History always repeats itself.

Title: History always repeats it’s self.
Author: tash1021
Rating: R-ish (due to language)
Pairing: Kurt/Puck, Burt/Carol, Finn/Rachel
Genre: Fluff
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: (From Burt’s P.O.V.) It’s funny how history always repeats itself.
Warning: Crazy Quinn
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters.
Word Count: 1,635
Betaed: By fabulously, wonderful and very understanding [info]militantstemmed( claps like a maniac ,while tossing roses.)
Author Notes: I’m reposting this because the first time was a complete disaster. so here is the new and improved bated version. Hope everyone enjoys



Burt Hummel knew what kind of man he was. He was the kind of man that liked his steak well done, his beer ice cold and horny little teenage boys away from his son (sure the gay thing was awkward and hard to understand, but he wasn’t about to let some punk destroy his baby boy’s virtue).
He also knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, but he wasn’t the dullest one either. It might take him a while, but he usually got to the finish line before the rest of the meat heads.

Which is probably why he didn’t see the signs sooner.
When Finn had brought the Mohawk kid over for the first time, he couldn’t help but smile as the kid shook his hand. He knew the type, the local badass jock who had every woman in a five mile radius dropping their panties before he even knew their name.
That had been him once upon a time. Before he had met his darling Kate.
Head cheerleader and resident ice-queen. She knew what she wanted, and she knew she was going to get it.
Just like his Kurt.

He really should have seen the signs.
It had started out innocently enough, Finn would bring the kid over and they all would watch sports or play a bit of football in the backyard, have a good time. It was a bit weird when Kurt had started to join them, but he couldn’t have been more proud when his little boy received a full out tackle from Finn and had reciprocated by knocking the over grown giant flat on his ass.

He really should have seen the sly glances Mohawk would give his boy, the way he licked his lips when he thought Burt wasn’t looking or how he would constantly ruffle Kurt hair and tug on his scarves to get the boy riled up.
The warning bells really should have gone off when the kid had willingly volunteered to be Kurt’s beauty product guinea pig. When he started spending his weekends watching musicales and trailing after Kurt at the mall like a lost puppy, carrying his bags around with only the promise of a cinnamon pretzel to get him through the day.
But it really wasn’t until he heard Mohawk call his baby boy ‘princess’ that everything clicked into place.
‘Princess’ was what he would call his Darling Kate.

After that, he started watching.
How Mohawk would rub the back of their hands together when he thought no one was looking, how Kurt would patch the kid back up when he showed up to the house all beat up and bruised, how Mohawk would take off his shirt and set it down on the chair next to his when they went to a game so Kurt wouldn’t get his outfit dirty, how Kurt would find healthily alternatives for pucks favorite meals.
It wasn’t until a month later after he watched Mohawks bare ass wiggle out of his son’s bedroom window as pulled up the driveway earlier than usual. And found his baby boy in the kitchen pale as a sheet, mouth red and swollen with is designer jeans rumpled and undone while he tried to make a salad with his shaking hands. Then he realized history was repeating itself.
The hotshot jock and the ice princess. Two complete opposites that wouldn’t, couldn’t be complete without each other. It was Burt and Kate’s story all over again. Only now the roles belong to his Kurt and the Mohawk.

The next morning him and Finn welded bars onto Kurt windows.
A week later Mohawk sat down with Burt at the kitchen table and had confessed to how much he loved his son and that he would do anything and everything to take care of him and protect him. And he didn’t give a shit if Burt, God or the whole fucking town disagreed. He was in love with his boy, and he was going to be his boyfriend. There was nothing he could do about it.
Burt had to admit. He liked the little son of a bitch. The kid had balls to talk to Burt like that. Even more guts, since he had given Burt his little speech while Burt was cleaning his shot gun. When he shook the Kids hand as he gave him his blessing, he half expected to see a big wet spot on the front of his jeans. There was none. Points for Mohawk.

The months that followed went pretty smooth after that. The Mohawk treated his boy right; he was a good friend to Finn. Burt doubted he had ever had a more dedicated worker in the garage, and even though the kid was lazy in school, he still made the honor roll with Kurt.
At the weekly Hummel-Hudson family outing, Burt smiled as he watched Kurt and Mo- no, Noah, argued over the menu. While Finn made googly eyes at the loud girl he brought to the restaurant with them. Burt smiled as he wrapped his arm around Carol.
His two boys were happy.

So what if history was repeating itself? At least his little boy couldn’t get pregnant like Kate and him had.
He should have known if you’re not careful history always, always repeats it’s self.
A few month later he opened the door to a soaked Noah holding a screaming pink bundle trying his best to keep the poor thing dry.
Kurt immediately pushed his father out of the way, took the screaming baby into his arms, and rushed into his basement.
It had taken a good half hour to get everyone calm enough for Mohawk to explain what the fuck was going on.
Mohawk sat at the opposite side of the coffee table while the whole Hudson-Hummel clan sat on the sofa watching him like a firing squad. While Kurt rocked the baby girl to sleep, nestled in one of his super-soft sweaters.
Mohawk explained that Shelby had landed a big part on Broadway and had to back out of the deal. Quinn had freaked out and called him. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she didn’t want her little girl and had dumped the baby off at the door of some church. Noah had rushed over and taken his baby back before any priest or nuns could find her. He couldn’t let his baby fall into the system.
When his mother had found out what he had done she had thrown him out and disowned him. She didn’t want his shame darkening her doorstep.
Burt shook his head and stared down at his baby boy. Kurt was already head over heels. Cooing at the tiny human being that rested in his arms. When Burt he leaned over to get a closer look the tiny girl, she grabbed his finger and looked at him with cloudy sage eyes.
Shit.
Burt stood up and announced that in his home he had four mouths to feed and he could still afford two more. And Noah would sleep on the couch.

Clarisse was a happy and spoiled baby. Having Kurt, Mercedes and Carole to tend to her every need. Whether it was physical or fashionable. He nearly got his head ripped off when he dressed his new granddaughter in a Cleveland Browns football jersey.
The jersey was only allowed in the garage now when Clarisse was helping her grandpa fixes cars (the sweet little girl distracted the costumers while she showed them their estimate). Kurt argued that he didn’t want his little girl around all those tools and cars when she couldn’t even sit up by herself. Burt was about to argue that Kurt had done just fine being around all those tools and car parts until Noah tossed his arm over Kurt and kissed cheek, telling Kurt ‘Babe, Clarisse being raised as a Hummel, and all Hummel are into cars. She would be fine. Trust Burt. I do.’
Burt never realized how much such a simple sentence could affect him.

@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_

Three years later Burt was sitting next Carol in a crowd of parents as they watched their sons and son-in-law (Kurt made sure they got hitched as soon as they were legal) accept their diplomas.
Clarisse was the picture of a proper little lady dressed to the nines in her powder purple dress and sparkling barrettes in her curly brown hair. She bounced up and down and squealed when she saw her daddies up on the stage.
The longing look of pale blond a few rows ahead of them was kind of creepy so Burt shuffled his family into the car as soon as the ceremony was over.

@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_

Five years later Burt was seated in Milan next to Carole, Finn, and Noah while Kurt’s friend Mercedes and Finn’s fiancée Rachel strutted down the catwalk in Kurt’s latest designs next to various models of all shapes and sizes.
At the end of the show Kurt walked down the catwalk with Clarisse little hand in his, taking a bow and smiling beautifully as Noah handed him a bouquet of yellow roses.
Burt Hummel knew what kind of man he was. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box but he wasn’t the dullest one either.
He knew that if you weren’t careful history would always end up repeating itself.
As he watched Noah kiss his son and his granddaughter swing on their joined hands, he was glad he was a bit dull at times.
Fin