Wallet: Chapter One Outtake

Kurt heard the rapping on the apartment door and jolted awake. He placed a hand on his forehead, willing the pounding to stop. After a moment of silence, the knocking returned and Kurt pulled himself out of bed, grabbing his robe and pulling it on over his pajamas.

"Daddy?" He turned at the tiny voice, looking at his son apologetically. "Wha's so loud?"

"I don't know, A," he sighed, scooping up the three-year-old in his arms and making his way to the door. He glanced out the peephole, his breath hitching slightly as he saw two police officers outside in the hallway. He swallowed thickly, sliding open the two locks before opening the door.

"Mr. Hummel?" one of them, the man, asked.

Kurt looked at them nervously, and nodded shortly. "Can I help you?" he responded.

The female officer glanced at her partner before looking at Kurt once again. "Could we come in?" she asked him gently.

Kurt stared at them blankly for a moment before stepping back. "Of course," he said shakily, allowing the cops to enter. He slowly set Aiden down on the floor, pushing softly against his back. "Go back to bed, sweetheart," he murmured.

Aiden pouted. "But Daddy—"

"Bed," Kurt told him forcefully. "If I go in to check on you and you're not sleeping, you'll be in big trouble."

Aiden continued to frown, but shuffled off back into his bedroom. Kurt quickly followed, pulling his door shut tight behind him before returning to the living room where the two officers were standing.

"You can sit, if you like," Kurt told them, still apprehensive about their presence. "Can I—would you like some coffee or—?"

"No thank you, Mr. Hummel," the woman said kindly.

Kurt nodded vaguely. "So what is it that I can help you with?" he asked carefully.

The woman glanced at her partner again, who sighed. She nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Mr. Hummel, we're here about your husband Alexander—"

"What about him?" Kurt asked quickly, his throat feeling painfully tight. "What—what about Alex?"

The woman looked at him sadly. "Mr. Hummel, we found your husband on a side street near his work..."

"What do you mean you 'found him'?" Kurt asked in a low, shaky voice. He sucked in a breath, willing himself to keep his composure. It was nothing. Surely they couldn't mean...

Again the woman looked to the other officer. "Mr. Hummel, Alex was found with serious head trauma," he said. "He was pronounced dead on the scene."

Kurt clenched his jaw. "No," he said simply. "You're wrong. It's not him—it's not—"

"Mr. Hummel, we found his wallet and identification on him," the female officer told him gently. The man pulled the familiar black leather wallet from his pocket, holding it out to Kurt. The brunette stared at it for a moment, recognizing the completely worn-through corner and the v-shaped tear on its surface. Hesitantly, Kurt took it from the officer, opening it up to see his husband's photo on his ID staring at him, smiling behind the clear plastic, a wallet-size print of him and Alex and Aiden on the other side, from over a year before.

Kurt felt his chest constrict painfully. "No," he murmured quickly, sinking onto the couch a little less than gracefully. "No," he repeated, "there's been a mistake." He looked at the officers pleadingly. "Please, there must be a mistake."

The woman sat in the chair across from him, looking at him sympathetically and placing a hand on his knee. "I am so sorry, Mr. Hummel," she told him softly.

Kurt quickly shook his head, placing a hand to his mouth as he snapped the wallet shut, clutching it tightly against his other palm. "But—but why—?" He broke off, unable to finish his sentence. He didn't blink too hard, afraid of letting the tears that were forming in his eyes actually fall. He glanced up at the ceiling, hoping that perhaps he could at least postpone the crying until he was alone again.

He heard as the man in the room took a deep breath. "We're investigating," he assured him. "But... as we found his wallet, we obviously don't believe it was a robbery." He paused heavily. "We believe he was purposefully targeted."

"Why?" Kurt asked again, and he looked to the man, who was suddenly directing his attention away, and then to the woman, who was looking at him with an even worse expression of sadness. "No," he muttered, shaking his head violently. "No, you can't think it was—not because he's—he's gay?"

The female officer licked her lips, still looking at Kurt with a heart-broken expression. "Mr. Hummel—"

"No!" Kurt shouted. "No, no. This was—this was one of the reasons I came here!" he told them desperately, as though it would somehow make a difference. "This isn't Lima. This—this wasn't—this isn't supposed to happen."

"I'm so sorry—"

"Stop," Kurt snapped. "I just—I can't. This isn't—this isn't right." He shook his head again, putting a shaking hand to his forehead. "Please, I—I need to be alone."

The woman nodded, standing up and returning to her partner. "We'll call the moment we find anything, Mr. Hummel," he said, and Kurt nodded absently, unable to look at the officers again, listening for the door to close behind them.

The moment he heard the familiar sound, he rose his hand clutching the wallet to his chest, taking in a breath as deep as he could, though it felt as though no oxygen was filling his lungs. He gasped for air again before a broken sob escaped his lips, and he placed his other hand on top of the wallet, as though his husband's heart was beating inside the leather, desperate to just feel some part of him.

"Daddy?"

Kurt forced his eyes up, placing a hand over his mouth as he tried to steady his breathing. Aiden quickly made it to the man's side, climbing onto the couch and weaving his tiny arms around the man's middle.

Kurt forced himself to breathe deeply, to try to regain his composure for his son, the wallet still in one hand, the other still ghosting over his lips.

"Dada's not coming home, is he?" came Aiden's tiny voice again, and if Kurt's heart wasn't already shattered into a million pieces, it definitely was then. He swallowed thickly, willing himself not to break again for the sake of his son. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, pulling him onto his lap.

Aiden moved his arms up, hugging his father's neck tightly, hiding his face in the man's shoulder. Kurt's hand jumped up to quickly smooth the boy's hair, running over the back of his head comfortingly. He found himself unable to answer the question. Instead, he swallowed thickly and took a deep shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry, Aiden," he whispered in a tight voice.