Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.
A/N: Another one-shot with Jack in the lead. I guess this is how I would've handled Kurt's coldness in Grilled Cheesus. Some of it was warranted, his dad did have a heart attack and was in coma, but to reject something your friends were trying to do to help was harsh, even if you don't believe. So, I came up with this little piece.
Jack watched from the outside of Burt Hummel's hospital room, the older man still unresponsive to any sort of stimulation, spiritual, medical, or otherwise. Jack bit his lip, this took him back, but that wasn't the point of his visit. He wasn't sure what the point was, but he knew that this was something he had to do for his own peace of mind.
He opened the door to the room, which roused Kurt from his state of half-life. The smaller boy rose to his feet, as if ready to throwdown with Jack if it came down to such an event.
"What're you doing here?" Kurt demanded. 'Can't they take a hint?'
"Don't bite my head, Hummer," Jack growled, "I'm not here to start a fight."
Kurt opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn't have the energy to exchange insults with the taller boy. Kurt simply nodded and sat down again.
"You're not here to fight with me," Kurt repeated, "why are you here?"
"Well," Jack began, "I've been doing some thinking-"
"You're capable of thinking?" Guess there was one in the chamber.
"Just because I don't have a filter that censors me doesn't mean I don't think, Queer-Tron 5000."
Jack turned his attention to Burt. Nothing. Jack took a breath, taking a seat in an empty chair.
"As I was saying, I was thinking of what you said about not wanting the prayers of the others. And I just wanted to tell you I think you're wrong for not taking them."
Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Jack anticipated this.
"I know you don't believe in God," he said. "I, personally, don't believe that prayers are actually effective in any case even though I do believe in God. That's not the point."
Jack looked over at Burt; Kurt could see something behind the younger boy's eyes, something that bonded them together. Not that they would ever acknowledge such a bond.
"The point is whenever something bad happens, people want to help. And since we're not doctors or medical experts, we try other ways of helping. Get what I'm saying?"
"That all being said, how's the, uh, acupuncture thing going?"
"They just left," Kurt said.
"You know, I think it's a bad idea to have people poking around inside of his head, but if it works, it works."
Kurt watched Jack as he readjusted himself in his seat.
"I wasn't here just to lecture you, Kurt," Jack said.
The sound of his nemesis saying his name stunned Kurt, the situation had to be bad for the automaton known as Jack Harmon to remember the name of the gay kid.
"I'm here because, until today, I never realized how much we are alike," Jack confessed. "All our lives, our father is all we've ever had. Mine because he chose to be the only parent in my life, yours because of-you've never said what your mother died of..."
"I guess it's not important. And, I was a little younger when it happened, but my father had a heart attack too."
"He did?" Kurt asked.
"Yeah," Jack said, chuckling. "Though you barely tell now," his laughter died down. "I was about five years old when it happened. I knew when I was little that my dad was older than most of the dads of the kids in my classes, but it never made a difference to me, he was strong and had more energy than me. Still does actually. But, he had a heart attack."
"I didn't know," Kurt scrambled to find the right words.
"Of course you didn't, I don't tell anyone these things," Jack said. "When he had it, I had two conflicting ideas of what should've done. I have an aunt who's an ordained minister and an uncle who's an avowed atheist and scientist. The fights between them, it was too much stress. So, that's why I exploded at you and Finn over this debacle."
"Are you sure we're not in some alternate universe?" Kurt asked. "Because the Jack Harmon I know doesn't interact with people emotionally."
"And the Kurt Hummel I know doesn't turn away from his friends," Jack countered. "I'm not saying you have to believe in God, Kurt, but it shouldn't stop others from believing."
Jack reclined in the chair.
"Strangely, I come here to comfort you and make it all about me," he said. "I am gifted."
"You shouldn't feel bad about it," Kurt said. "I'm surprised you'd share this with me."
"I just wanted you to know that you aren't the only person to go through something like this and that he's got a great chance at getting better. My dad wasn't found until the flow of oxygen was blocked for about 20 minutes. Your dad got help like that. So, if anyone is gonna make through this it's him. If he's anything like you, he can fall in shit and walk away from smelling like roses."
"Come up with that yourself?" Kurt asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
"Surprisingly, Puckerman gave it to me," Jack admitted, laughing. "Just don't tell him I used it."
"Does mean I have blackmail information on you, at last?" the fashion-conscious diva prodded the always offensive singer.
"So long as you don't want this picture released," the ego with legs countered, holding up his cell phone and revealing a picture of Kurt, three days without his facial treatments.
Kurt's mouth went oval when he saw the picture. "Admit that you're evil incarnate and we'll leave it that."
Jack nodded. "We've reached a standstill. Good. I don't want our showdown to end at the moment."
The taller boy stood up, stretching before turning to the door.
"I'm gonna go get something to drink, want anything?"
"If they have any tea, that'll be fine," Kurt said. "Just don't pee in it."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Kurt rolled his eyes at Jack's statement. "Doesn't mean you wouldn't think about it."
Jack smiled. "You are good, Hummel."
He was about to leave when Kurt called out to him.
"Jack," the contralto said, "thanks for-acting like everything is fine."
"That's what my grandparents did for me."
Jack stepped out of the door and disappeared from sight. Kurt turned to his comatose father.
"Who was that nutbag?" he said as if repeating his father. "That was Jack Harmon. He's the one glee kid you're not allowed to meet because I don't want you go to prison when he starts talking."
Kurt slipped his hand onto his father's, hoping this would jar him back to the land of the conscious. Still, as before, there was nothing.
A/N: And that is, how shall we say, that. I remember watching Grilled Cheesus, thinking "why doesn't someone give Kurt a piece of their mind in a manner that wasn't preachy?" then it hit me, "Hey, fanfic time!" and this story was born as the end result.
So, feel free to tell me if you liked it, didn't like it, whatever. Remember, one can never hear enough from their readers, so let me hear you.