a/n This fic has two other stories that come before it. They are titled "22 Calls and a Hospital" and "22 Letters and Notes, and a Song".
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Prologue - Initial Therapy Session
Kurt Hummel, gifted countertenor, exceptional dresser and diva extraordinaire, studied the two women who had emerged from the office.
He was seated in a small, comfortable waiting room, with a couch and armchairs, rather than the hard plastic seats found in hospitals and dentists' offices. His father was beside him, and the boy knew the man was restraining himself from the urge to pull his son into his lap, keep him safe from the world, and never let him go.
While Kurt appreciated his father's love and comfort, and was secretly very grateful of how protective the mechanic could be, he also knew that now was not the appropriate time to be coddled.
Looking back towards the two who had exited the office, Kurt felt anxious and hopeful.
The women were markedly different.
One looked only a few years older than Kurt, with short, dark hair and too much make-up. She wore blue jeans and a hideous sweater circa the 1980's in dirt brown, honey gold and a deep red. The outfit was completed with a pair of black Doc Martens and the mascara running down her cheeks from her tears.
In comparison, the second female wore a lovely, navy blue, Chanel halter-dress that fell just below her knees, and a matching pair of Jimmy Choos that caused her legs to seem incredibly long. The dress was paired with a three-quarter sleeve, knit, white cardigan overtop, and basic, lovely earrings - small, dark blue topaz on a golden backing. The earrings were complimented by the thin bracelet around one wrist made of the same components, and a well-loved set of three rings on her left hand, consisting on a golden wedding band, an engagement ring of the same metal and several tiny diamonds surrounding a deep green, round-cut emerald, and another basic band with diamonds all down the center of the ring.
The woman had aged gracefully, and Kurt would guess her to be somewhere in her mid-40's. Long, dark blonde hair pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder, a face whose minimal make-up drew focus to kind green eyes, and lightly tanned skin all added up to an individual who was aware of her years, and more concerned with owning that number than denying it.
One hand softly touched the other woman's arm, and when she spoke, it was with a quiet confidence. "I'll see you next week. And, Lisa, don't forget that you can call if you need to talk sooner."
The fashionless female nodded, and though the tears and muffled gasps continued, her back straightened and she squared her shoulder before stepping away from the touch and walking steadily towards the building's front doors.
Turning, the blonde smiled at the Hummel men in welcome. Manners kicked in, bringing both men to their feet, and Kurt politely extended the hand not currently in a cast and sling. "Hello, Doctor Cleary."
"Mandy, please," she responded, catching his fingers in a grip that was equal parts gentle and firm. "And you must be Kurt Hummel, is that correct?"
His answer was a tight smile and a nod. Withdrawing his hand, he gestured to his right. "This is my father, Burt Hummel."
Rubbing a hand over his bare head (Kurt had insisted that the baseball cap remain at home.), the man nodded. "Pleasure to meet you."
"And you," she returned. Her attention went back to Kurt, and she asked, "Would you like your father to join us, or would you prefer that you and I speak one-on-one?"
Kurt instinctively glanced over at Burt, who looked less concerned with whether he would come along, and more troubled by whether his stubborn son would refuse to share anything with the woman.
He wasn't sure what the doctor would ask, but Kurt was sure of one thing - he didn't want to worry his father any more than he already had. "Just you and me, please."
A quick nod, and she waved him towards the door. "This way."
As they walked in, Doctor Cleary mentioned, "I normally tape my sessions, then transcribe them later. The tapes are kept in a closet safe here in the office, to ensure that no one can tamper with them or listen to them. But I never record a session without the individual's permission. Is that alright, Kurt?"
He silently swallowed, then nodded, before doing his best to get comfortable in the padded chair she offered.
Sitting in her own chair, she reached over to the nearby desk and clicked on a tape recorder, before taking a pad of paper and pen in hand.
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First Session with Kurt Hummel; Wednesday the 3rd at 4:30 p.m.
MC: For the first session, I'd like to just ask you to tell me about yourself. Nothing intrusive, and you don't have to share anything you feel uncomfortable sharing. It's simply a chance for me to learn about you, so that I can better understand whatever you do choose to share. Likewise, if there's anything about me you'd like to know, go right ahead and ask.
KH: That (pause) seems reasonable. Where should I start?
MC: Well, what do you enjoy doing? Do you have friends or family that you like to spend time with? Do you have plans for your future, or a favorite class in school?
KH: I love to sing and dance and act. I was in the glee club at my old school, and joined the Dalton Warblers when I transferred. I live with my father, step-mother and step-brother, Finn, who's my age and was actually in my old glee club. I have a group of friends who I love like family, and my boyfriend, Blaine. He's (pause). He's wonderful. And in the future I plan to be a star on Broadway. As for my classes, they're all going well. I had to do some makeup work recently, but it's finished and turned in, and my current grade point average is 3.9. My favorite classes are AP French and European History.
MC: Let me ask, why did you decide to come in and talk to me?
KH: Doctor Lydia Lopez of Lima Memorial Hospital suggested you.
MC: And how do you know Dr. Lopez?
KH: I'm a friend of her daughter's. And Dr. Lopez was my mother's doctor.
MC: Your mother?
KH: Yes. She died when I was eight. She was in the hospital on and off throughout most of that year, so I became very familiar with the hospital staff, Dr. Lopez among them.
MC: I'm sorry for your loss.
KH: Thank you. It was more than half a lifetime ago. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to, but I still miss her. And Carol tries, but she's not my mother.
MC: And who is Carol?
KH: My step-mother. My dad just recently remarried. Carol is (pause). She's a wonderful woman, and I do love her and know that I could think of her as a mother. She makes my father so happy.
MC: But?
KH: But what?
MC: It sounded like you were listing good things, in an attempt to soften whatever you were about to say. That generally precludes a 'but'.
KH: Yes, well (pause). I just (pause) worry that Dad will forget Mom, that I'll forget her. And I know that Carol isn't trying to replace her. She lost her husband years ago, and we have pictures up of my parents on their wedding day, and Carol and her first husband on theirs, as well as pictures from Carol and my father's marriage. Neither of them would ever try to replace those they lost. It's just that they're so caught up in one another, and how happy they are right now. I could never be angry at them for finding that happiness.
MC: But you're afraid of what the cost for that happiness might be?
KH: I don't want to forget my mother. She was the most wonderful, kind woman I ever knew. I think she suspected, long before I ever knew, that I was gay. My father certainly knew.
MC: How?
KH: He told me he's known since I asked for a "sensible pair of heels" for my third birthday.
MC: Have you shared any of these fears with your father?
KH: No. That's (pause). He had a heart attack a few months ago, and with Carol, he's happier than I've seen him in years. I don't want to destroy that.
MC: Kurt, if he brought you in to see me, wouldn't it be more likely that what he's most worried about, right now, is you? Would you ever consider sharing more about your life and feelings with him?
KH: No, he has enough to worry about right now.
MC: Like what?
KH: (long pause) Me. I already gave him enough to worry about that I shouldn't add anything else. I only got out of the hospital in the past week.
MC: What were you in the hospital for?
KH: Being an idiot.
MC: As far as I know, that's not something an attending nurse or doctor can help with.
KH: (chuckles) I was feeling depressed and betrayed by my friends. So I went out and got excessively drunk. I don't remember much about that night, apparently I drunk dialed just about everyone I know, but I ended up in the river by the I-90. I almost died, broke my wrist and ended up in a coma for two weeks. Also, the last call before I went into the water was to Dad. He already spent the money he and Carol had saved for their honeymoon to transfer me to a private school in Westerville that has a zero-tolerance bullying policy, after I received death threats at my old school. He's dealt with enough. I don't want to add to that.
MH: So, allow me to clarify: You are worried your father's health will deteriorate again because of his worry for you. Is that right?
KH: Yes.
MC: And prior to the heart attack, did your father eat healthy, keep his cholesterol levels low, exercise daily?
KH: (pause) No.
MC: What did the doctors say was the greatest cause of his condition?
KH: Poor diet and minimal exercise. But (pause).
MC: And has he changed those things since he was released?
KH: Yes. Carol and I have made sure that there's nothing greasy, fatty or sugar-filled available in the house, and we monitor everything he decides to eat when he's at the garage or we go out to eat.
MC: So, between yourself and your stepmother, you've helped you father to change the circumstances that caused his heart attack? The issues brought up by the doctors are no longer a problem?
KH: I (pause). No, he (pause).
MC: According to the prognosis of the doctors, did stress have anything to do with the heart attack?
KH: Well, no.
MC: Then, may I ask why it sounds as though you blame yourself?
KH: (long pause) I (pause). I never (pause) thought about it that way.
MC: From all you've told me, your father has been dealing with sufficient stress lately that, if that were the cause of his condition, surely he would have been hospitalized again with the same problem. Yet, when I met him outside, he appeared fine, besides his worry for you. Do you not trust him?
KH: Of course I trust him! He's the best father in the world.
MC: Then why does it seem as though you are adamant about not trusting him? Is there another reason that you would wish not to talk with him about the stressors in your own life?
KH: I (pause). I need to think about this. How long was this session scheduled to go?
MC: An hour.
KH: I think, if it's alright, I'd like to end early today.
MC: Of course.
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Lying in his bed that night, and using tacky glue to add some basic glitter and sparkle to his woefully boring cast, Kurt thought over the discussion he had had with Doctor Cleary. As the Judy Garland song "Faraway Voice" began playing, he sighed and paused in his work.
She was right. He had distanced himself from his father. Despite Burt's wholehearted acceptance of his son's sexuality, there was still a small, bitter part of him that believed his father would one day realize just how very gay Kurt was and reveal powerful homophobic beliefs
He had denied his dad full involvement in his life because of that irrational fear, and that wasn't fair. Kurt had no reason to think his father would ever act that way. And going through life, avoiding any kind of argument with Burt to decrease the chance that the man might strike out at him, expecting him to react like Finn had during the room debacle, was not only absurd, it was completely without precedent. He had used the heart attack as an excuse, and made it an additional reason not to share his weakness and fear with the man who he should trust more than any other. It had merely been the newest in a long line of excuses regarding sharing his anxiety and circumstances with Burt.
Kurt was judging his father on something which Burt had proven over and over would never happen. And in that moment, Kurt felt more idiotic than he ever had in his life.
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Realization: My father is not as fragile as I have treated him. I owe it to him to tell him the truth of how I feel.
This does not, however, mean he gets to start eating pizza or Big Macs again.
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a/n Revised 12/19, reposted 12/21