Chapter Nine: Daddy Burt
"Daddy." He whispered, his voice catching as tears slipped silently down his face, Burt looked at him, his face growing swiftly concerned, "Daddy, I have to tell you something."
Upon hearing his beloved son's voice quiver, Burt had turned off the television and was on his feet and wrapping Kurt in a bear hug, desperate to offer comfort. "What's wrong? What's happened?" He pulled back a little to cup Kurt's face in his hands, "Are you hurt?"
Kurt shook his head, swallowing and looking sick, "I don't know how to tell you..." He moaned, lower lip wobbling.
"Ok." The worst case scenarios were running rampant through Burt's mind. Is he sick? Has someone hurt him? Is he dying? Did he kill someone? On and on they went, torturing him. "Let's sit down. I'll get you one of those herbal tea things." Kurt nodded and mutely sank into the large, welcoming sofa, looking defeated.
He's going to be so disappointed in me.
Carole was standing at the sink when Burt entered. She took one look at him and asked, "What's happened to Kurt?"
Burt shook his head, "I don't know." He put the kettle on to boil as he took a couple of mugs from the side and, as he looked for Kurt's tea, Carole made a fresh batch of coffee.
"Is he hurt?" She asked, he mothering instinct quickly taking over.
"He said he isn't, but he looks... He looks sick Carole." Burt turned red rimmed eyes towards her and she came to hold him close as he sat down on a kitchen stool. Silently she held him, knowing from experience that nothing she could say would offer much comfort until Kurt told her husband what was wrong.
The kettle boiled and the coffee was done, so Burt finished up, kissing Carole lightly, and went back into the living room where his son was staring at his stomach with a mixture of awe and fear. Burt's heart jumped uncertainly.
"Here you go, son." He said, putting Kurt's tea in front of him on the table. They sat in relative silence for a moment, only the sound of them sipping their drinks and Kurt's sniffles filling the room. "Kurt, what happened?"
Kurt put his tea back down on the table, his hand shaking. "Have you heard of Carriers?" Kurt asked quietly, looking down at his hands. Burt swallowed and nodded, heart thumping wildly. When Lizzy had been carrying Kurt she had taken some of those drugs – the ones that the government had said could cause pregnancy in boys. "Ok... then that makes this a little easier." Kurt turned to look Burt in the face, his blue eyes watery and so much like his mothers. "Daddy, I'm pregnant..."
Burt didn't say anything, he was too shock. He wasn't sure what to think. On a primal level, he was over the moon to be expecting his first grandchild, despite his worry he couldn't help the growing excitement. On another level he was terrified for his only son to be going through this at such an early age. And then there was the disappointment that Kurt had got into a 'relationship' without telling Burt of the situation.
He was brought back to himself by the sound of Kurt sobbing.
"I'm so sorry daddy! I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm so sorry. I'll do anything, just please daddy, tell me it's gonna be alright! I'm so sorry, daddy, I didn't want to be any more of a disappointment..." Kurt was crying, curled into himself with his knees drawn up to his chin. Burt's heart broke for his son.
"Hey, Kurt." Burt gathered the countertenor close, rocking him gently, the same way he had in those months just after Lizzy's death. "Kurt, I love you, son. You don't disappoint me." The mechanic sighed, "I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me you were, you know, with someone, but nothing you could do could make you a disappointment." Kurt looked up at him and Burt smiled, "Kurt you mean the world to me. Whatever you decide, I'll be here for you." Kurt smiled shakily at him.
"Thanks dad." He whispered, curling into his father's side.
"But!" Kurt stiffened, "I want to know who the other dad is."
Kurt shook his head. "That won't be happening, dad. We're..." The countertenor looked away, "We're not really together."
Burt began to shake, "You mean he was using you?" He growled.
"No!" Kurt gasped, his hand gripping Burt's shirt, "No, dad... I was... I think I was actually using him. I'll tell him, but I don't want him as a part of this. It won't be healthy. For either of us."
Burt grumbled, but as he looked down at the top of Kurt's head he couldn't help feeling that maybe Kurt was being a little unfair. After all, this other boy had the right to know he was a father, although Burt knew that Kurt was probably in a really dark place for the time being.
"Actually." Kurt spoke again, a frown on his face, "That wouldn't be fair. If he wants to be a part of the... baby's life he can be. I don't want to be the monster who takes that away from him."
Burt's heart was overflowing with pride and he squeezed Kurt's shoulders tightly, kissing his forehead. "You're such a good boy, Kurt. You're just like your mum and I'm so proud of you son."
"Thanks daddy." Kurt said, tears choking his voice as he hugged his dad, "That means a lot to me." Burt smiled, feeling that he had done right by his son.
"Wanna watch Deadliest Catch?" Burt asked, comfortable with Kurt cuddling up to him. Carole popped her head around the door jamb and locked eyes with Burt who raised a thumb and nodded – All is well, talk later. Kurt nodded against his side, sighing at the relief of telling his dad and relaxing.
They were only half way through Deadliest Catch when Kurt let out a sleepy snuffle, having fallen asleep in his dad's arms and once again, Burt was transported back to those months just after Lizzy's death when Kurt simply wouldn't sleep. You'll always be my baby boy.
"Come on, Puck, for old time's sake?" Santana said, pouting in a way Noah supposed was meant to look innocent but the look was ruined by the leer in her eyes.
"Santana, I'm not interested. How many times do I have to say it?" Puck replied, shutting his locker and facing the Cheerio directly. "I don't wanna do that anymore."
Santana's eyes widened, "What? Seriously, Puckerman?" Noah nodded, raising an eyebrow in a tired manner, "Ok, who is she?" The girl growled, scowling aggressively and looking just about ready to kill someone.
"It's none of your business." He said, casting his eyes down the corridor. As yet he still wasn't quite sure what the fluttering in his stomach could mean whenever he spotted the countertenor, but he thought that, maybe, he really didn't want to mess up whatever it was they had going. And if there was one thing Noah knew about Kurt Hummel it was that, casual relationship (that was basically just sex) or not, 'cheating' would not be tolerated.
As of late, Puck had also found himself wanting to give Kurt what was in those cheesy chick-flicks he had been forced to watch on more than one occasion – 'You want my ass, Puck? You gotta work for it!' – he wanted to give Kurt that opportunity to walk down the halls with the person he was fucking and hold hands. He wanted to be able to claim Kurt in the corridors – don't think I haven't noticed the way Karofsky stares at your ass in those pants – and to take him out for dinner at least once in a while. With Kurt, Noah Puckerman was finding himself wanting a real, honest to God (Gaga) relationship and it terrified him. For starters he didn't even really know how he felt about the other boy. He did, however, know that being with Kurt in a way that was based on more than just sex, with actual feelings involved had the potential to make Puck better than himself and to make Kurt shine.
Just as he was about to turn back to Santana to make it clear that he wasn't going to have sex with her – she could be tenacious at the best of times – he noticed Kurt coming down the corridor and gave a second glance. There was a nervousness on his features but he strode up the hall with determination bright in his eyes right towards Noah. Puck smiled, unsure of the happiness that spread through him due to the knowledge that Kurt was looking specifically for him.
Santana clocked that his attention was elsewhere and craned her neck around to see who had put that stupid expression on Pucks face; the one which told of him reminiscing over a recent sexual experience. When she saw who it was, she growled inaudibly before throwing herself at Puck.
Before he knew what was happening he had an armful of horny Santana, her lips smashed to his and he found himself kissing back out of reflex. He didn't miss the look on Kurt's face, just before the Ice-Queen mask slipped into place. I'm so fucked.
Kurt didn't turn around and walk away as he'd expected, instead he marched straight up to the other two teens and stood, arms crossed, beside them as he cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, Santana, I need to talk to Puck about a project we're working on, so perhaps you could find it in yourself to exert some self-control and keep your legs shut?" Kurt smiled at the Cheerio sweetly although his voice was laced with venom.
Santana looked ready to cause havoc, but she visibly calmed herself and gave Kurt a sly look, "Alright, Faggot, but just remember, the Puckster will come crawling to me soon enough." The countertenor didn't appear to be surprised that she knew, after all, Kurt, himself, had told Mercedes (although she was sworn to secrecy and appropriately bribed with a mall shop A La Hummel) instead he raised his eyebrows boredly. The cheerio recognised that she wasn't going to rile Kurt and left allowing Kurt to talk to Puck.
Kurt looked up at Noah with a blank expression and he wasn't sure what was worse, the vacant look on Kurt's pretty features or the thinly veiled betrayal shining in his beautiful blue eyes.
"So..." Noah started awkwardly, Kurt shook his head.
"Not here."
They settled on Mrs. McGrath's empty classroom. Kurt perched himself delicately on the teachers desk and Noah stood in front of him. For a long time Kurt remained silent, breathing deeply as though he were trying to calm himself. Puck reached out to push back a stray lock of hair.
"Don't." The smaller boy hissed. "Don't touch me." Kurt inhaled before looking up at Noah, the hurt radiating from his eyes making Puck feel burned, "Why?"
"What?"
"Why did you have to go back to her?" Kurt growled, anger clouding over the pain.
"She's not that bad, Kurt." Noah reasoned, but he could feel his fight or flight kicking in. The relationship he had with Kurt was too tentative and Puck didn't know how he would be able to save it. Besides, why would someone like Kurt – who deserved so much more than Puck – believe that he wasn't the one to put on the moves?
"Oh, please." The countertenor snarled, "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me really."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Noah knew that he should just calmly try to explain, but even he couldn't stem the sting (or the anger) which bubbled at that statement.
"It means that I should have known that a man-whore, such as yourself, would not only be powerless, but also brainless, against Slutlana's whorish lure." Kurt said in a way that was supposed to seem indifferent.
It was then that Noah saw red. It was the same every time that someone took a stab at his worthlessness and he knew it had to be a genetic trait from his father to lash out without thinking, without damage control. He didn't think properly before he let the words loose and he knew he was going to regret them.
"Yeah? Well I only wanted in your virgin ass 'cause there's no possibility of you getting pregnant!" Puck almost screamed, he took in Kurt's shocked and suddenly listless features, but his father's blood wasn't finished yet. "Besides the fact that watching you crumble to the lowest of the low, giving your body to the pariah of the school, was beyond fun." He licked his lips lewdly in a poor semblance of a gesture he'd used many times to seduce the boy before him. "You're nothing to me Kurt, and you never will be. After all, you're not a woman, are you, Fag?"
He heard the slap before he felt it. It was a strong one too, good enough to even rival Santana's, and it snapped Noah out of the sort-of trance he was under. He looked to Kurt and felt that imploding feeling in his chest which he had felt once before on the day he gave up Beth when he saw hot tears slipping down Kurt's pale cheeks.
"Kurt, I..."
He tried to reach out to Kurt, wanting, needing to hold him close; to tell the boy he was sorry, so sorry, but Kurt punched him square on the nose before moving around him, his slim arms clutched around himself as if he were afraid that he may literally fall apart.
"If I ever see your face, Noah Puckerman, anywhere other than the choir room," Kurt's voice was deadly quiet and Puck actually felt a shiver of fear tingle down his spine, "I will not be held responsible for my actions. No-one, no-one fucks with a Hummel, Noah." And with that Kurt was gone.