All In the Family
McRaider
Summary; While looking through things in the attic, Kurt finds pictures of what he believes to be him, but as he starts to dig deeper…he learns that all families have some skeletons in their closet.
Author’s Note: Based on this prompt from glee_angst_meme…I started with this but then I realized that I had a story I wanted to tell as well, so I decided to add my story to this part of the story. I don’t know if this is actually what the prompter had in mind, but I find myself wondering…what if Mrs. Hummel wasn’t what everyone thought her to be. So this is actually based off two prompts.
2nd Author’s Note: I’m a psychology major and one of my promises to my favorite professor was that when I wrote I would display that it’s the disorder that causes a person to act different or out of character, rather than making the person themselves “bad”. While this is only fanfiction and she’ll never read it, I hope that I did said disorder justice.
Rated: PG-13 for language
Spoilers: First season, you really need to see the first season…otherwise you’re a bit behind, oh and Beiste will make an appearance because well…she’s a beast (awesome that is…)
Disclaimer: If I owned them not only would I be brilliant but I’d be rich. As I’m not much of either I clearly don’t own them.
Chapter One
Present Day 2010
Hummel House hold
“Here!” Kurt called as he climbed up the stairs to the attic, putting a hand on either side of the hole and pulling himself up the rest of the way. He stood up a moment later, wiping the dust from his favorite pair of jeans. He waited as Finn and Mercedes followed closely behind him, Mercedes waved her hand in front of her face, as if trying to fight the dust off. “Sorry about the dust, it’s been awhile since we’ve been up here,” somewhere in the back of Kurt’s mind it dawned on him that it was shortly after his mother’s passing.
“Why has your dad decided to have a garage sale now?” Mercedes questioned as she grimaced at the sight of cobwebs over by one box.
Finn rose his hand, “That’s my fault, mom and I have a lot of stuff and we need somewhere to put some of our keepsakes, so Kurt’s dad offered to sell some of the stuff up here and make the space.” He walked over to an old crib, “Was this yours?” Finn questioned, it was probably a stupid question.
Kurt smiled, “Yeah it was.” He grinned as he ran his hand along the railing. “There’s probably some pictures or something up here, if you’d all like to see.”
“Your dad doesn’t keep your pictures on display all over the house-must be nice, my mom does that just to embarrass me I swear,” joked Mercedes as she opened one box to find a plethora of various old awards.
Chuckling softly, Kurt nodded, “He does, but after mom died,” Kurt shrugged, “I don’t know I guess it’s pretty rough for him. So he put most of her stuff up here,” He reached down past the crib to a box that read ‘michelles’ in a scribbled and frantic note. “Here it is,” Kurt smiled as he popped the box open, on the very top stat a photo album. Kurt opened the album, smiling as he flipped through a couple pages. “That’s my mom,” Kurt offered pointing to the picture of the beautiful strawberry brunette with hazel eyes. She held in her arms a beautiful little infant. “That’s me,” he pointed as he grinned.
“She’s beautiful, I see where you get your good looks boy,” Mercedes chuckled.
Finn meanwhile had grabbed another box, finding more pictures he smiled. “Here’s some more,” Finn chuckled at a couple, seeing Burt in his younger days, “Hey who’s this guy beside him?” The other man in the picture was pretty burly like Burt, and looked very similar to the man.
Kurt smiled sadly, “That’s my Uncle Peter, he died in 1995 in a car accident.”
“That’s pretty rough, so you don’t even remember him?”
“No, dad talks about him a lot though. They were pretty tight I guess.”
Finn found one that surprised him, “Who’s the kid?” The boy, looked almost identical to Burt, he couldn’t have been more than two or three, he was clearly giggling at the camera as he cuddled between Burt and Peter.
Kurt looked at it, his eye brows furrowing, “Um…not really sure.”
“Did Peter have a son?”
“No, Dad was the first in the family to have a son,” he glanced at the back picture surprised to find it read 1992…two years prior to Kurt’s birth. “That’s interesting. Are there anymore of him?”
“Yeah a lot actually,” Finn handed him another one, “This one says Lucas and Uncle Peter, 1991. That’s definitely not you.”
Kurt shook his head, “No…it most certainly isn’t. He stopped and paled when he saw the next picture in the pile. “That’s the day I was born,” He whispered, it was a picture of him with the boy, his mother and his dad, “Me, mommy and big brother Peter with the newest addition.”
“Dude…” Finn whispered looking at him.
“I…I had a brother?” He was suddenly confused. He sat down heavily and looked at the box of his mother’s stuff. He didn’t remember a brother, he remembered his mother, some days he felt like he’d forgotten what she looked like, but he remembered her and he’d been five when she died. His eyes narrowed when he found a newspaper clipping. He read it out loud, as if trying to process it, “Local farmer and nephew die in fiery blaze of a car accident…1998.”
“I thought you said your uncle died in 95.” Mercedes whispered looking it over.
“That’s what dad’s always told me…I was four that’s two years before my mother died…why don’t I remember that?”
“Read the rest of the article,” Finn suggested.
Kurt looked up at him, feeling slightly unsure, but nodded and began, “On December 18th 1998 Farmer and local Engineer, Peter Hummel died in a tragic car accident, taking with him his seven year old nephew Lucas Hummel-son of mechanic and teacher Burt and Michelle Hummel. Neither were willing to comment on this tragic event, but some suspect foul…play.”
“Wow…” Mercedes whispered.
“Your dad…never mentioned any of this to you?” Finn questioned.
Kurt felt his world beginning to shake a little, he couldn’t remember any of this, by that time…he’d been four for awhile, he should remember this…shouldn’t he. He closed his eyes desperately trying to recall these things. “Kids?” He jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. He quickly wrapped up the box.
“Please…don’t tell him what we found,” Kurt offered, “I want to…I’ll ask him about it later,” He begged, pleased when his two friends gave a brief nod, just in time too.
Burt stuck his head up through the whole in the floor, “You guys comin’ down any time soon or have we cancelled this thing?”
“Sorry Mr. Hummel,” Both Finn and Mercedes chuckled as they headed down the stairs. Burt smiled, and waited, expecting to see his son. Noticing that he hadn’t come down after a few seconds, Burt headed up into the attic.
Kurt was seated on a old box, holding a picture in his hand. “Son?” He questioned moving towards his boy. He realized it was a picture of Kurt and Michelle. “Hey buddy, if you’re not up to this-“
“I’m fine,” He stated harshly.
Burt looked at his son, “Yeah, I always snap like that when I’m fine. What’s going on kiddo?”
Kurt closed his eyes feeling them well up with tears of both frustration and fear… “Nothing, I just…brought back some old memories.”
Burt nodded slowly, not really believing his child, “Okay, well if you need to talk, I’ll be outside.” Burt turned despite something telling him not to and began to head back down the stairs when his son’s voice stopped him.
“Dad.”
Eye level with the floor, Burt glanced up at Kurt, “Yeah kiddo?”
Kurt closed his eyes, not wanting to believe what he was about to hear, “What year did mom die?” He whispered.
Burt’s eyebrows inched together in concern, “1999, you know that, why, Kurt, buddy if something’s bother you-“
The kid chuckled, “It’s nothing dad,” He shook his head, “Really just struggling to remember some stuff.” He replied at least that part was true. Because for the life of him, after the age of six he didn’t recall ever seeing his mother, what was he forgetting or missing.
Burt glanced at his son one last time in concern before nodding, “All right, well you know where to find me if you change your mind. Love you kiddo.”
“Love you too dad.” He waited until his father was sure he was gone. Then he looked at the pictures again, he looked just like Lucas…and to come extent without realizing it, a lot like his dad. He took a slow shuddering breath, grabbing the box he headed downstairs, somehow making it to the basement without being seen.
TBC
Current Music: John Barrowman Tonight's the Night
grumpy
ecstatic
pissed off
sore
melancholy
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=92.1){kind=small}
cold