AN: Set during "Grilled Chesus" and inspired by lyrics from "I Hope You'll Meet Again" by The Saw Doctors
It was pleasant being back with Kathleen. Living in the love that the two of us created. The love that had created our little boy. The boy who may not have fulfilled my expectations but who was special to me anyway. Perhaps he hadn't embraced sports but he was special and I had enjoyed all the things we had done. I had enjoyed teaching him to ride a bike, building houses with Legos, reading him stories, and even participating in his tea parties. My favorite times though were playing with his toy train sets in the living room. That was back when he knew how to relate to his son. Back before the two of them started growing apart.
As happy as he was living in those happier times, other things kept intermingling with the experiences. He kept hearing voices that didn't belong. Some of the voices he didn't recognize and they were using terms that he didn't understand. Other voices were familiar but didn't fit with the experiences that he was currently having. It was like two worlds were mixing and perhaps in some way they were.
Something wasn't right with all of this. As happy as he was here, this wasn't right.
He was at the garage and he had started having pain. He remembered thinking it was just indigestion but it had only gotten worse. Had he had a heart attack? Was he dead?
But now he could hear Kurt's voice now, talking to him. Telling him about their first Friday night dinner after Kathleen died. But Kathleen wasn't dead. He had been dancing with her a short time ago, hadn't he? Except that Kurt's pleading voice seemed more real than everything else around him right now.
And then he remembered, he had buried Kathleen. It was just him and Kurt now. Which meant that if he stayed here, as peaceful as it was, Kurt would be alone. He couldn't leave his son alone.
Feeling the familiar smaller hand in his own, Burt tried to grasp it. Tried to let his son no that he wasn't alone.