The first appointment Burt could book at the Doctor’s Office had been mid afternoon on Monday; however, the receptionist called them back to reschedule both Hummel men for the last appointments of the day.  Dr. Gregory Williams, who had been the Hummel family Doctor since before Kurt was born, had decided that he’d kill two birds with one stone and get both Burt and Kurt in for a medical at the same time. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Burt had known Greg, his wife Jenny, and their cars for over twenty years, he’d have suspected it was just an excuse to poke at them and then bill them double.

“I book an appointment for you, and he wants to see me!” Burt muttered, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room.  Kurt had pulled an emergency copy of Vogue from his messenger bag and was flicking through it.

“Dad, you haven’t seen him since before the heart attack – getting checked more often is probably a good idea. And how often have you taken one look at something wrong Dr. Williams’s car, only to tell him he’d better send Mrs. Williams’s car in too, knowing that there will probably be an issue on her’s? You do the same thing to him.” Kurt replied, intently studying the lines of a Ralph Lauren jacket, contemplating how he’d construct the pattern himself and then re-make it in a fabric he actually liked.

“Hey, you didn’t have to bring your own Vogue – there’s the same one over there on the table!” Burt commented.

“Yes, and GaGa-knows-who, contagious with GaGa-knows-what have handled it, or coughed over it or sneezed over it. Eww. No thanks.” Kurt replied, taking a little notebook and pencil from his bag and beginning to make notes on the jacket.  The shoulder padding would have to go; the neckline would sit so much better if the collar was smaller; the buttons could be made into such a feature with this piece; and don’t get him started on that particular shade of green…

“Kurt, put the pencil down a moment… look, I’m not gonna go in with you – I think you’ll probably tell the Doc more if I’m not there.  I’m trusting that you’ll then tell me everything, and that I won’t have to go behind your back and ask Greg for the truth.” Burt said, meeting Kurt’s eyes and seeing the instant relief.

“Thanks, Dad – but I’m trusting you to do the same! No hiding any recommendations from either Carole or me! If something has to be cut or introduced into your diet, we will do it.” Kurt paused, twirling the pencil absently as he looked at his Dad.  His Dad who could have died because of the heart attack; the Dad who would be taking medication for the rest of his life. “Dad, you have to keep up with appointments now – its better that you bother Dr. Williams more and he tells you that you’re fine, rather than…”

“You don’t need to say it, kiddo, I know what you mean; I’ve been taking better care of myself… though what a heart attack has to do with Greg needing to shove his fingers up my…”

“DAD! I. Do. Not. Want. To. Know.” Kurt whimpered, shuddering, dropping his copy of Vogue and the little notebook on the floor in surprise.

“Yeah, well I don’t get why you gay guys, you know, like it – feels damned strange to me.” Burt whispered, looking confused.  Kurt refrained from sticking his fingers in his ears and singing only because the receptionist was giving them odd looks from behind the desk. Kurt considered himself an ocean of calm, even if at that precise moment he’d like to sink to the bottom of it to avoid this conversation – but his Dad was looking at him as if he had all the answers.

“I don’t really know either, I’m so not ready for anything like that… but not being in the doctor’s office probably makes things better.” Kurt whispered, praying to any deity, lightning-breasted dwarf in a teapot or something-that-considered-themselves-an-influence-on-the-universe that his Dad would take a hint and nix the conversation!

“Hummel? Burt and Kurt?” The receptionist called, “Dr. Williams will see you both now.”

“We’d like to go in separately, Ma’am, if that’s okay?” Burt asked politely.

“I’ll check with Dr. Williams.” She said, only to be cut off by the man himself.

“Katy, Burt Hummel has just not groused about a physical – I don’t care if I see them one at a time, or both together – just get ‘em in here before they change their damned minds!” the Doctor, a greying man around the same age as Burt stood in the doorway to his office wearing a chocolate brown suit, burgundy button down shirt and an electric blue bow tie. Kurt debated the man’s eyesight, because he would bet that even his Dad could tell that everything Dr. Williams was wearing was a giant clash.

“I’m guessing Jenny is away?” Burt commented, shaking the Doctor’s hand.

“Yes – visiting her sister – how did you know?”

“Greg, it looks like you dressed in the dark, even your socks are different colours. Jenny has picked out your clothes for you every day since before you were married because you're useless at it on your own.” Burt said with a friendly chuckle.

“I asked you if I looked okay this morning, and you said I did!” the doctor said said, turning to his receptionist.

“I thought you meant your health, not your wardrobe!” Katy said, laughing.

“Right, come on, stop laughing at me and let’s have a look at you.” Dr. Williams said, opening his door and ushering Burt in.

“If all you did was look, Greg, then I’d come here more often, you like to poke at me too much…” Burt began, but was thankfully cut off by the closing of the door.

“I didn't think telling my boss that he looked a complete ass first thing on a Monday morning was a good idea.” Katie said, winking at Kurt.  He’d put away his magazine and notebook, suddenly unable to concentrate.

“Yeah, probably not good work-place etiquette, even if you were telling the truth.” He agreed, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as he waited for his turn.

Both Hummels had been pronounced ‘as healthy as I’d expect, considering the circumstances’ by the Doctor – but both had to watch their diet.  Burt had to keep his cholesterol down and remember to take in the right sorts of food; and Kurt had been instructed to increase his calorie intake as he was approaching the too thin area of the BMI chart.

Dr. Williams was horrified by the bruising on Kurt’s back, but announced that they were just bruises and nothing more sinister.

He’d asked the younger of the pair to complete several questionnaires, and found that Kurt had developed a mild case of anxiety and depression, it was clinical, but not too drastic. Rather than jumping straight in with drugs, the Doctor had recommended that Kurt see a counsellor and take up more exercise activities that would get his brain pumping out more of the ‘happy chemicals’, the exercise would also increase his appetite, a win-win scenario.

“I’m not a gym bunny, Dr. Williams, I’d rather run away from a treadmill than run on it; I’d probably need training wheels on an exercise bike! And the only iron I like pumping has steam in it and is for pressing clothes!” Kurt had said, understanding what the doctor was saying, and understanding why he’d have to work out more, but not remotely liking it.

“I didn’t say you had to join a gym, it was just one suggestion, Kurt.  What about the school sports teams? That new school of yours has a good reputation; your Dad was telling me all about it. He’s looking forward to watching the games of two schools now.”

“I don’t think I’m good enough to get on the school teams at Dalton.  I only played in one game of Football at McKinley and we won – but I was only really doing anything for a few seconds.  My only training involved teaching the rest of the team how to do the Beyonce ‘Single Ladies’ Dance so that they could put off their opponents; and kicking the ball between the white pole-things at the end of the pitch.  I did a bit of cheerleading for McKinley, but Coach Sylvester was more interested in my vocal talent than my physical abilities; it was quite aerobic, but not as strenuous as she put the rest of them through.”

“How about swimming?” The Doctor prompted.

“Not until the bruises have gone – not unless I got one of those shark suits that they wear at the Olympics.” Kurt had replied honestly.

“I understand... but the longer you put this off, the more excuses you’ll find to avoid it, and the longer it will take to recover.  I don’t want you getting worse, I don’t want to have to put you on anti-depressants.”

“I’m not avoiding anything, you yourself said it had to be something I’d enjoy doing! Sports are something I tolerate because my Dad likes them – I usually read Vogue while a game is on.”

The doctor paused, remembering looking over a much younger Kurt’s sprained ankle, “Your Mom used to take you to dance lessons, I remember you spraining your ankle when you were a kid – why don’t you do that again? And I mean the dancing, not spraining your ankle. Proper classes, something with some focus and drive.”

“I like that idea – but I haven’t danced properly since Mom died. It wasn’t Dad’s fault, but he couldn’t run the shop and take me to the classes… I’ll see what I can find close to my new school.” Kurt said, hoping that Dalton’s library might have the answers, or at least a map of the local area.

“There are other things too – my wife swears by yoga; and I like Tai Chi. You get quite a workout from those!  Don’t forget going for a walk or a jog, all those will cost you is a decent pair of sneakers so that you don’t damage your ankles and other leg joints.”

“You have a scary fixation on my ankles; you know that, Dr. Williams?” Kurt replied with a small smile.

“Well, your dad has an obsession with my parking brake, so consider us square.” He laughed.

“Okay. I’ll get on the exercise – I haven’t done Yoga in ages, and hopefully I can find a dance school that accepts older students and has boys-only classes. If all fails I’ll fill my i-pod with the bouncier Broadway numbers and go running.” Kurt said, nodding his head with a new determination.

“Aaaaand…” the Doctor prompted.

“And I won’t intentionally sprain my ankle?” Kurt replied.

“Yes, but what else did I tell you to do?”

“Get proper sports sneakers, not the fashionable ones?” Kurt knew he hadn’t given the right answer when the Doctor leaned in, resting both hands on Kurt’s knees and looking him straight in the eye from six inches away.

“Eat properly.  For your age you need over three-thousand calories a day to fuel both growth and activity. I know you’ve been off your food because of what you’ve been dealing with, but now you’re out of such an awful environment you have the time and opportunity to look after yourself properly. You can look to your own needs, rather than looking over your shoulder.  You have the pamphlet there telling you about what proportions of each food group you need to be aiming to consume each day…” the doctor paused for a moment, watching as Kurt opened the tri-fold coloured piece of paper, “… keep a food diary – either write it down or use one of those phone apps that you kids like these days – make sure you’re getting the nutrients you need!”

“I hadn’t thought about using an app. I like that idea – and I can get my Dad to do the same so that he eats what he should too!” Kurt said, nodding and looking at his phone.

“I think your Dad might be better off with a diary, because I don’t think he actually knows how to turn your cell on.” The Doctor said with a wink, causing the teen to laugh.

“What about gym class?” Kurt asked, back to being serious once more.

“There isn’t anything stopping you doing it, you’ll know if you’ve gone too far – pain is a message to stop whatever the Hell you’re doing because your body doesn’t like it… but I understand that you’re nervous about your new peers getting an eye-full of the bruises, and asking questions you’re not comfortable answering.  I’ll write a letter to your school, explaining the situation – I think they’ll be understanding enough to let you change in privacy and sit out when you feel you need to.”

“You can email it, if you like. Dalton might be made up of antiquated buildings, but they’re very big on technology.” Kurt said, handing Dr. Williams one of the Dalton business cards that the Dean had given him.

“Oooh, isn’t that different. I’ve never had a business card from a school before… I’ll email it as well as giving you the paper copy to hand to your teachers.  If you wait for ten minutes, I’ll put something together and get Katy to put it on the headed paper so its all proper, and I’ll make sure all of your medical history gets sent to them too; they’re very thorough!”

“Yeah, well, they’re two hours away from here – and they’d rather have too much information and never need it than not have enough information and something tragic happen. There’s a Doctor living at the school, I haven’t met him yet. I think the Dalton guidance counsellor is a proper counsellor too.” Kurt said, digging back into his bag for the pack given to new students, all of it in colour printed on glossy paper.  McKinley, in contrast, gave out a two-page photocopy that had been duplicated so many times that the writing was blurred.

“Wow, very fancy! I bet you’ll do well there, lots of opportunities for such a smart kid like yourself.” The Doctor said, glancing at the pack before returning his attention to the letter he was composing.  After a few moments he spoke again, “Now, I’ve sent that to your Dean and Katy will print it out… one last thing – don’t worry so much. You’re  a teenager, enjoy still being a kid before the adult world comes along and spoils everything. You’re not Atlas – the world isn’t on your shoulders.”

“But my Dad…”

“…Let other people be concerned about your Dad – it’s what I bill your insurance company for! Do you remember what I said about pain being your body’s way of telling you it doesn’t like something earlier?”  Kurt nodded, “Well your Dad is definitely listening to his body now, and what’s more he’s paying attention and changing where he needs to so that he doesn’t have to go through that again.  So he doesn’t put you through that again. You hear me? He told me how you’d kept all this mess to yourself because you were frightened you’d make him relapse!”

“I was so scared.” Kurt whispered.

“And you handled everything so well – but you need to let other people handle it now.  Be young! Be happy! Do typical teenage things – whatever’s cool these days!” The Doctor said with a grimace, “But don’t do drugs, or knives or guns or anything else stupid – even if they are cool.”

“I’ll pass on the dangerous things, thanks.” Kurt said, shaking his head.

“Right, well go tell your Dad everything – make sure he tells you the same.  Heck, just swap pamphlets and read each other’s.” The Doctor said, rising to shake Kurt’s hand before he left the room.

“Thanks Dr. Williams – and remember to come into the shop before Winter hits to make sure all your fluids are topped up and everything’s working properly, I know you get more house calls as the weather gets bad.”

“Thanks for reminding me, Kurt.  I’ll make a note in the schedule.”

“Are we good to go, Doc? I’ve handled the paperwork with Katy here.” Burt said as the doctor and his son came back into the waiting room.

“Yes – and I’ll see you both in three months – sooner if either of you feel you need it… Take care, both of you; I’d love to only see you back here for routine checks in the future.”

“Bye Greg – remember to book your cars in soon, winter’s not far away…”

“For goodness sake! There’s an echo in this place!” the Doctor said, grinning as the Hummel men looked at each other and grinned the exact same smile.