Title: The Bucket List
Author: pen_traveler
Fandom: Glee
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, Max Adler would be a regular by now.
Summary: In the days following On My Way, Dave and Kurt reevaluate the goals in their lives and vow to help each other achieve them. "Fancy, come on. We didn't come all the way to New York City for you to back out now. We're going to the top of the Empire State Building, whether it breaks off and we plunge to our deaths or not."
The most frustrating thing was that he couldn't stop thinking about it. The tortured pain in Mr. Shue's face as he gestured for Kurt to join him in the hall, the hand that rested consolingly on his shoulder, the compassion in the too-bright eyes as he slowly and carefully outlined what had happened. The speed with which Kurt had pulled out his cell phone and stared in disbelief at the nine calls he had deliberately ignored. Looking back, he knew that he shouldn't have checked Facebook so quickly after hearing the news, and when he read the comments, the cruel and twisted posts, on David's wall, for the entire world to see, for - no, no one could be that evil, right? - for David to see, he'd darted to the nearest restroom and slammed the door on the stall closed in just enough time for his lunch to find the toilet.
And, later, the tears. Gaga, he'd shed so many of them that his teachers had stopped addressing him at all, choosing to leave him to his black cloud in peace. Blaine found him at some point - during class? In between? He wasn't even sure. - and without saying a word, had drawn Kurt into a comforting and loving embrace. "It's okay," he'd whispered against Kurt's hair as the older boy had sobbed.
"It's not okay," Kurt had blubbered back. "He-he thought I was his friend."
"You are his friend," Blaine had assured him quietly. "You are. Kurt, he . . . It's not too late to fix it. He didn't die."
Kurt blinked against the onslaught of memories. It would do no good to obsess about something that he couldn't change, and no matter how often those nine ignored calls crossed his thoughts, it still didn't change the past - he hadn't answered. But, it was like Blaine had said - Dave's suicide attempt had been a failed suicide attempt, and by the grace of whatever Fates existed in the world, Kurt wouldn't have to live with Dave dying, thinking he was alone. Kurt had been given a chance to set it right and he would. He would help David however he could, and he'd be the best fucking friend the jock could imagine. He'd be . . . more than he'd been in the days following Valentine's Day.
He rolled over in bed, and checked the digital time on his phone again. One fourteen in the morning - exactly two minutes since he'd last looked. If he couldn't turn all these awful thoughts off and get some sleep he'd be in big trouble when he faced his Physics test in the morning. He debated calling Blaine, but Blaine got a little bitchy if he didn't get in his full eight hours and Kurt was pretty sure his nerves couldn't handle a fight with his boyfriend at this time of night.
He scrolled though his contacts, not sure exactly who he was looking for, but when his eyes located on the name Dave (promoted from David Karofsky because the minute Kurt had entered his hospital room things had shifted for them somehow) he hesitated for only a moment before gently pressing it to make the call. He felt a shot of nervousness pierce the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it impatiently. Yes, there was a slight chance that Dave would be none too thrilled to be woken at one in the morning, but as far as Kurt knew he hadn't made a decision about where he was going to finish his studies, so he allowed himself to hope that Dave wouldn't be asleep yet.
The phone rang once, twice, and just as Kurt decided he'd have to make another attempt at counting sheep, a deep voice answered. "Kurt? Is everything okay?"
Well he didn't sound as if Kurt had yanked him away from Dreamland, which was a good sign. Nevertheless, "Did I wake you?"
Dave let out a low chuckle. "Definitely not."
Kurt was silent for a moment, contemplating. He was the one that had called Dave, but now that he had him on the line, his voice was having a hard time forming the words. But he'd never get to sleep if he didn't get this out, so he took a deep breath. "Dave, can I ask you something?"
"Well, my therapist says I need to be more open. You know, break down boundaries or some shit. So shoot."
"Didyouhateme?" He spit out the words so quickly he wasn't sure they translated to English, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Did you hate me?" Tears immediately formed in the corners of his eyes and he had to roll his eyes at himself. Honestly.
"Hate you," Dave repeated, and the tone in his voice said he'd never heard anything more ludicrous. The knot in the pit of Kurt's stomach lessened slightly. "What, when I was looping the belt around my neck?"
Kurt flinched against the icy-cold feeling that surrounded his heart at the mere mention of what happened that week. It reminded him of the cold of a slushie facial. He licked his lips. "Yes."
"No," Dave answered, the smallest amount of anger filtering into his voice. "Kurt, I've told you, you can't feel bad about what I chose to do!"
"I know." But he couldn't find it in himself to be more convincing with his lie. If he'd just answered the phone one fucking time. If he hadn't been so scared that Dave would - what? Beg Kurt to date him until he agreed? If he hadn't been so self-absorbed, if he'd thought to himself well, I did just tell Dave that we could be friends. Maybe he has problems that have nothing to do with me he could have saved himself all this guilt. He could have saved Dave 72 hours in a hospital to make sure he didn't make another attempt on his own life and an ugly red burn across his neck that still hadn't completely faded when Kurt had visited him.
And the worst 'If' of all: if Mr. Karofsky hadn't found him in time . . .
"Kurt!" Dave's sharp voice snapped Kurt out of his tortuous thoughts and yanked him back into the present. "Kurt, listen to me. Are you listening?"
Kurt sighed. "Yes, I'm listening."
"Do you know what I was thinking about when I stepped up on that chair?"
He was almost too scared to ask. "What?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I was thinking that I'd never get to go to a Panthers' game."
It was just about the last answer Kurt was expecting, and he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from tilting up the tiniest bit. "Really?"
"Yep. See, my grandfather has a small place in the mountains in North Carolina." Kurt could hear the smile in Dave's voice and it inexplicably relaxed him. "And for as long as I can remember, every single time we crossed the state lines I'd start. 'Daaaaaad. Can we please go see the Panthers? Pleeeease.' And he always told me the same thing." He paused for dramatic effect. "'The Panthers suck.'"
Kurt couldn't fight a laugh as Dave continued.
"The year my grandfather bought me a Panthers' blanket for Christmas my dad didn't speak to him for a week. His loyalty for Dallas runs deep, I guess. It's where he was born. Anyway, that's what I was thinking about. If you've got it in your head that I was spending what I thought were my last few minutes on Earth being pissed at the bravest guy I've ever met, then you need to let that go If I'm supposed to put the stuff I did to you behind me, then I think it's okay for you let go of not answering a phone call."
"Nine. Nine phone calls."
Dave sighed, and Kurt listened to him shift on his bed. "Kurt, let me ask you. Did you know what I was planning to do?"
"What? Of course not!"
"Did you know what Nick did?"
"Well, no, but-"
"No," Dave cut him off. "No buts. If you'd known what was going on, then, yeah, that would make you an asshole. But you didn't."
Kurt laid back against his pillow and silently took in Dave's words. It seemed much too easy to gain Dave's forgiveness after what had almost happened. But. But Dave didn't seem to be even close to angry with him, and he was talking like maybe he never was.
"Kurt," Dave said suddenly. "I really need to go. I can hear my dad up, and he won't be too thrilled if he comes in and catches me on the phone this late. And I'm trying to give the man's heart a break for a while."
Kurt nodded, then, realizing Dave couldn't see him, said, "It's okay. I'm glad I called you." He was. He felt a lot better than before he'd dialed the number. "I'll talk to you later, Dave."
"Goodnight, Fancy."
He grinned. "Night, Dave."