The Next Time I See You

Summary: The anger, pain, and fears that have plagued Karofsky for eight years are finally released in one night. Face to face with the ones who ruined him, can he forgive? Or is vengeance too much to turn down? A different angle on why Dave acts the way he does. Features Klaine.

A/N: Giving a shot at this writing thing. I'm a new Gleek and I have to say that Karofsky's storyline is the one I watch out for the most in the series. So until we get a full explanation, this is my take on why he acts the way he does. Hopefully this hasn't been done before, I really tried to make it unique. Any help or advice is appreciated :) All of this is in my head, and I don't own Glee or anything related to it. Contains Klaine and hopes for Kurofsky.

*Takes place after the Christmas Episode.*

Glee freaks. Their smug, stupid faces flashed across my mind. There was something about their arrogant dancing and singing that made my blood burn. I saw red every fucking time they flaunted themselves in front of the school, preaching about self-acceptance and friendship and all that other crap. As if they were proud of being hypocritical, self-righteous little punks.

Especially Hummel. God damn it.

The boy's face wouldn't leave me alone. Once I started to think about him, the image stuck like bolted statue in my mind. Stupid Hummel, with his swagger and smile, strutting around like some queen bee. I thought I could ignore it, just let it go. There were other kids out there for me to torment, to seal my place among the top dogs of the school. But when Kurt finally confirmed what everyone already knew, he became my favorite target. And it thrilled me, even if it was for a few brief moment, to see his face filled with fear and anger. It thrilled me to have that power over him. At least until he found out...

I drove my boots into the snow as a lame way to distract myself. No way was I letting that Hummel kid have something over me. He was nothing. Gone. Ran away just like all the other fags in this fucking world.

So why did I come here tonight? Why did I drive all the way to this frozen lake infested with lights and happy, oblivious families just to see the god-annoying Glee club sing?

We can watch the snow fall forever and ever! Step into Christmas, Step into Christmas, the admission's free!

I watched from the side of the tiny stand that sold over priced apple cider. There was a decent crowd huddled in front of a wooden stage. And on the stage, New Directions thumped, jumped, and screamed their way through song after song. Only this time Hummel wasn't there. I imagined he would pop out of nowhere and take over the solo, dancing and belting out the melody til it drowned out everything else. But he never did. Of course he wouldn't. I chased him out.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, the stage, the song, hell even the night felt empty without Hummel. I cursed myself for thinking about him again. It was getting harder not to. Since he left I thought that would be it, I'd be free. Free of my constant thoughts of him. Free of my fears, of how I hated and thrilled to be around him at the same time. But instead of enjoying that freedom I was here, sitting through one fucking number after another all for the chance that he might show up. After four songs, I gave up hope. They were taking their bows while two new people came up to replace them.

The girl I'd never seen before. But the boy caught my attention right away. My fists clenched, suddenly burning in spite of the chill.

I wish you could stay

Baby it's cold outside

I've got to go away

Baby it's cold outside

The welcome has been so very nice

Talk about a perfect combination. That curly haired fag was singing a song I'd hated ever since that Christmas eight years ago when I wondered alone door to door, trying to find my pathetic excuse for a father. Fucking perfect.

Remembering my Dad after all these years and listening to the sick swooning of that song was too much. I couldn't stay. Not even for the chance to see Kurt again.

I stopped suddenly, realizing that it was happening again. I was running away from the past, from a fucking song and all the bitter memories that came with it. How many times did those memories stop me from moving on? I couldn't let them get to me again. I wasn't going to be a scared little boy anymore.

I would stay. Not just because I wanted to see Kurt again. It was more than that. I turned to face the stage, still a good distance off, watching as the awkward duet went on. Eight damn years since I last heard my Dad. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine the scene unfold.

Me, a desperate nine year old kid seeing his Dad at the piano. Dad was singing a long with the tune, a huge silly smile on his gruff face, more happy and content that he'd ever been in his life.

It was my worst memory.

But I stood there and held my ground. I was tired of letting this song get to me every time it played. Like every other pain in my life, I'd bear it til it didn't hurt anymore. It was like training for football or hockey, after awhile you just brush it off the pain.

I glanced around. Not much changed in Lima, especially when Christmas rolled around. The lake looked the same as it always did during this time, like an arts and crafts store exploded and created this big mess. The lake and park choked with red, white, and green, tinsel, gigantic snowflakes, and a web of blinking Christmas lights. Off to the side, not too far from the stage, there was a huge line of kids waiting to take a picture with Santa.

I laughed at how cliché it all was. Hell, that was probably the exact same guy who put on the Santa suit on all those years ago when Robbie and I were still kids.

"Hey Davey, whatcha gonna ask Santa for?"

"It's a secret."

"Huh? Why? Is it bad?"

"No...Well, what about you? What do you want for Christmas?"

"I want Daddy back."

My face tightened remembering Robbie. I guess I was always jealous of him. He was Mom's favorite, but it was okay because he had everyone wrapped around his finger, especially me. Robbie was stupidly optimistic, overly cheerful, and he had this crooked smile that could make the sun melt. And as his older brother, he was pretty much my world. And I was his. He idolized me. As if anyone could ever idolize Dave Karofsky, the pushy, pompous jock who would be a Lima loser the rest of his life. But he did. That was one of great things about him, he had this strange way of being close to the toughest of people. He could tear down their walls if given the time to smile and charm them.

Even now I can't understand why he was so determined to be my shadow. He wanted to do everything I did, be anywhere I was. And I spoiled that little monster every chance I got. He was my best friend, the one who I admired for being so bright and happy regardless of what happened, the kind who always saw the best in people. He was such an amazing kid. Too good to be my brother. I promised him so much stuff, like teaching him how to play football, helping him ride a bike, tying his shoes for him when he was lazy. I promised him so many things. And I never got to keep them.

The song ended and another one began. And yet I remained there. There were so many other things I could be doing right now, like visiting Robbie. But instead I was here, alone and cold with nothing but my memories to warm me.

Robbie would have loved Glee. As distressing as that thought was, it was true. The kid loved to sing. The first thing I'd hear coming home from school would be Dad and Robbie singing at the top of their lungs to show tune favorites. Hell, if he'd been given the chance he would have been the star. No more solos for that big mouth Berry chick and Hudson. And at each performance, I'd be front row and center, cheering for him. But it would never happen.

I made up my mind to visit Robbie later. Not that there was much point in going. Nothing would change. But still, it would be nice to just talk things out. Even if he couldn't respond.

A riot of laughs broke out in the crowd. The sound interrupted my thoughts. I lifted my eyes from the snow-laden street. I saw him then. Both of them actually. Together. Holding hands. In front of all these people.

But I didn't expect this. At least, I didn't want this. Come to think of it, I hadn't really given a thought about what I'd do if he actually saw me.

Now that Kurt was within reach, I found myself backing away before he noticed me. I spent the entire night waiting for a chance to see him and I didn't even have the nerve to show him I was there. What did I have to be afraid of? Fine. Let him strut around like a fucking queen with that curly-haired fag's arms wrapped around him. Like I had any right to be mad. Why should I?

As I watched them laugh, touch and stare at each other, a heavy, twisted feeling fell on me. It was the same terrible feeling I had the moment I realized that Dad wouldn't be coming back, or when it hit me that Robbie would never sing again, or when Hummel pushed me away.

It felt like sinking, falling so far and deep that I was losing everything I once knew about myself. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn't escape that horrible feeling of helplessness and hurt.

And all because I saw Hummel...

"Oh my god,"

It was a soft whisper. Every word filled with dread and disbelief. I turned around. My eyes burned at the sight of the man standing before me, his blue eyes wide and watery, full lips open with shock. The years hadn't changed him at all. His small, lean body was untouched by the struggles of life, as if he'd been treated like fine porcelain all this life. His face was still young, fair, and impossibly flawless.

I wanted to break it. My fingers drew up tightly, my throat clenching back the frosted air.

"Oh my god," He took a step forward, his polished face unsure of how to react, " Dave. Is that really you? Wh-What are you doing here?"

The feelings of hurt and helplessness I had moments before melted. All my sheltered hatred threatened to explode. If I stayed there a second longer I would have done something I'd regret. So I left. I nearly ran away from the crowds til I reached the empty parking lot. The three old street lamps flickered sickly over the lot, casting a grim spotlight on me.

"Dave wait! Please."

"Stay away from me." I warned. I could feel him gaining up on me, the rushed steps of his boots smacking quickly on the snow.

I felt his sleek, gloved hand brush my arm.

"I said to back off you fucking faggot!"

I turned and grabbed him by the collar, my fists gripping him so tightly that it hurt even me. His bright blue eyes were incredibly wide now, like a doll's, his cheeks flushed red from both fright and cold. His terrified face made my heart stop.

For a second, I swore it was Kurt in his place. My hands loosened, ashamed at how much power Hummel held over me. How many years did I dream of beating this fag to the ground just to be stopped by the memory of Kurt's face? Why should it matter if he looked like Kurt? They were all the same anyways. Every single last one of them...

I threw him violently to the icy street. His tiny body bounced off the pavement with a distinct click and snap. But it wasn't enough. Broken bones weren't enough to pay back eight years of my life, and it certainly wasn't enough to bring my family back together. No. This little fag had much more to pay. And it would start today.

I didn't know how many times I kicked him. But every time he'd crawl back up I'd move and he would be writhing in pain again. And I reveled in it. It was evil yes, but right now I didn't care. Every kick, scream, and curse flying between us gave me a sickening satisfaction. This fucking homo destroyed my life. No amount of his begging or crying would stop me now.

He yelped pathetically as I kicked him again, this time his hands were over his face, protecting the fresh gash he received after his latest fall. I braced myself and bore all my weight on one final swing. Right where I could shatter his porcelain face.

"Get off of him!"

The world spun and I was slammed to the pavement, the ice biting my face like fire. My neck was caught in a vice-like grip. My eyes wandered open, my vision fading in and out til I saw the face of the fag's rescuer.

"I'll kill you," His voice was gruff, heavy, and tight, and I knew he meant every word of his threat.

My vision cleared. His eyes were fierce and dark, just as I had remembered them. His face, although older and more rugged, could have been borrowed from mine. Recognition filled his eyes, then suddenly he released me. He backed away. His eyes never left me for a second. Had anyone seen us, they would have sworn we were replicas of each other. Only he was taller, older, with a cut over his left eye.

He leaned over me, daring to draw closer. I couldn't tell if that frantic heartbeat was mine or his. Maybe it was both.

"Son?"

There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to scream and curse at him til my voice ran out. I wanted to slam my fist into his face. Maybe smash his head into the pavement. God knows how much time I'd spent imagining this moment when I could finally show him that he was wrong for leaving. I wanted him to regret his decisions, to realize that he was the loser and not me!

Now that the chance was here, I couldn't move. Seeing him was like a premonition. As if I was seeing a future image of me. I thought living with that rich twink would have changed him, softened him up a bit.

Instead he was towering over me, ready to kill me just seconds ago. All because I gave his precious boy toy exactly what he deserved.

"Son I—"

"Don't call me that!" I pushed him off me and scrambled to stand, nearly slipping.

"Dave. Will you hear me out? Can we talk?"

"Why? Don't you have something better to do? Like take care of your little sex puppet? God fucking knows that's what you've been doing all these years."

His face darkened. And it irked me to see just how much that little slut meant to him. He didn't act that way when I got hurt as a kid. He told me to rough it up, to not let pain get to me. And here he was, ready for bloodshed because I insulted his precious boy toy.

I rushed past him, brushing against him roughly for good measure. He pulled me back so violently that my jacket tore.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you young man. I'm still your father!"

Anyone would have sank away in sheer terror of him. He was furious, his eyes blazing and hands shaking with rage. But I laughed. Loud and painfully. It was hysterical.

"Who the fuck did you say you were?" I asked, barely suppressing my laughter, "Or how about this...Who do you think I am? Well, I'm sure as hell not some stupid kid you can push around. I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

"You're going to stay here until we talk this out! Damn it Dave, it's been years since I last saw you. Will you stop being so god-damn angry and just listen to me?"

"Why don't you listen to yourself? Do you even hear what you're fucking saying? You left me, Robbie, and Mom to run off with that—that cock whore!" I spat the words out, glaring at the twink as he got to his feet. His blue eyes met mine. Even with the bruises he was still beautiful. Like Kurt. He looked too much like Kurt.

My father went to him, took him by the hand and helped him up. It was disgusting to watch, and I hated myself for the envy creeping through my spine. They were so different, yet watching them there was no denying that they were in love. The way my father held out his hand, gentle yet strong. And the look the other guy gave him, full of gratitude and assurance that he was safe. It was sick. But I craved what they had. I wanted to be just as sure and brave. I wanted someone to look at me that way instead of rejecting me after I placed my heart in their hands.

"It's not what you think," My father said, tired and hoarse from the fight, "Your Mom...I tried to contact you but she threatened to move you out of state if I tried."

"Wonderful! Do you really think I'd buy that lame excuse? You could have talked to me if you tried. If you messed with that tramp behind Mom's back you can get away with anything!"

"Your mother took you away from me. I didn't want to leave you Dave. That was the last thing I wanted. You've listened to her side long enough. Won't you listen to what I have to say?"

The air between us felt like poison.

"How the hell did you find me here? Don't fucking lie and say it was a coincidence. Never thought you'd have the nerve to show your face in town again."

"I was here for someone else." He answered, "But I'm staying for you. Dave this has to stop. Your uncle told me about what happened at school—"

"He what?" I snapped, threw my hands up in the air and cursed to the sky. Even Uncle Paul was turning against me. Damn it! I thought I could trust him after he covered for me at that meeting. Guess not.

"He thought it was time we just put this behind us. The stuff he tells me you get into... You've been acting out, snapping whenever someone tries to help you. You were expelled for god's sake! Dave, that's not you. You're a better kid than that."

"I'm not a kid anymore! When are you going to get that through your dense head?" It took a lot of restraint to not scream any louder. People from the park were just coming into the lot, their heads turning towards us.

"Sweetie," The other guy's soft voice floated gently. His slender arm snaked around my father, a gloved hand brushing against the bruise on his face. The coward couldn't even look at me, "Sweetie we should go."

"Dylan I can't just leave him here."

The smaller man drew closer to my father, resting his head against my father's chest. He did it to spite me. There was no other reason for it.

"Please love, I don't want any trouble."

"Like hell you do," I snapped, "That's all you've caused ever since you hopped into my Dad's pants knowing he had a wife and two kids to look after! One of them was sick and instead of being there for him Dad was gone because he was too busy fucking you."

The blue eyes met mine. He wasn't the innocent, defenseless twink anymore. There was a hint of defiance in him, a challenge in his gaze. If he was going to play the innocent martyr then so be it. I knew the truth, and no amount of his pouting or manipulation would ever blind me of that.

"It was nothing like that. You don't know what happened." My father said, placing himself between me and Dylan.

"Neither do you! You don't know how Robbie spent the last weeks of his life asking us where you were. You didn't have to lie to his face. You don't know what it was like to watch him die. And you certainly weren't there to see Mom hating the fact that her baby was gone and all she had left was this—this reminder of you!"

I bit back the sob threatening to escape. I couldn't break down now. Not when I had the courage to tell him everything I kept back for so long.

"I tried to find you Dad. I was fucking nine years old. I needed you. When I found you...you were happier than you'd ever been." I tried to get it the picture out of my head. But like what usually happens when your trying to avoid a bad memory, it just returns as vivid and full as the time it happened.

It was snowing that time. I remembered because I nearly froze. After searching all day with Uncle Paul we finally found Dad. He was at Westerville. And not just any place in Westerville, he was at some high-class upscale division that looked like it was plucked straight out of a magazine. I remember standing outside a gigantic mansion made of marble and glass. I felt so out of place, like I was some dirty spot messing up the perfect scene. I was about to ring the door bell when I heard music.

I've got to go home

Oh, baby you'll freeze out there

I turned to the sound coming from the window right by the door. I saw my Dad at the piano, playing brightly and smiling like he'd never known happiness before.

Say, lend me your coat

It's up to your knees out there

Beside him, a beautiful young man sang along. He was fair, with dark brown hair that framed his sculpted face. There was something strange about him, he was too pretty. And it wasn't normal for any guy to walk and move like he did, all flowy and girl-like.

You've really been grand

I thrill when you touch my hand

It also wasn't normal how he wrapped his arms around my Dad. Or that he played with Dad's ears. Or how Dad didn't stop him and just laughed along with it.

But don't you see

How can you do this thing to me?

Dad pulled the guy to his lap and kept singing. The other man lifted his face up and shook his head playfully. This couldn't be real. My Dad wouldn't even do that with Mom. How could he let this...guy touch him? But nothing could prepare me for what I saw next.

Dad leaned down and kissed him full on the lips. The song stopped. Dad's calloused hands were cupping the other man's face gently. They looked so content, so lost within their warm cozy moment while I was left alone outside in the cold. They kissed again. And again. Every time my Father would return his kisses I felt the world collapsing into me.

They pulled away briefly, just long enough for the other man to rest his head on Dad's shoulders. Slender fingers stroked the piano and they began to sing again.

There's bound to be talk tomorrow

Think about my life long sorrow

A chaotic chorus of thumping and jumping interrupted their song. A small kid ran into the room with dark blue pajamas, his wild unkempt hair sticking up like cardboard.

At least there will be plenty implied!

The kid sang along to the latest verse and twirled, collapsing on the floor when he lost his balance. He jumped back up and bowed, a silly grin on his chubby face. Dad and the other guy laughed and clapped. The beautiful man held open his arms and the kid ran into them, flipping through the music sheets at the piano for another song to sing. Soon they were all singing again. I didn't stay. I'd seen enough. And the sight burned itself deep into my memory.

"Robbie was dying and you were happy." The pain overpowered my bitterness so much I couldn't get the words out, "You didn't care. Not when you were with him."

"I never wanted that to happen. Believe it or not." The other man spoke up, his blue eyes blazing. There wasn't a hint of sincerity in his voice. If there was I ignored it. Anything that came from him was poison to me. Liars. That's what they were. All those fags were nothing but selfish, manipulative skanks who didn't care who they hurt as long as they got what they want.

"Ever since I saw you that day all over him I wanted to make your life a living hell. But you ran away. Both of you did, like the god-damn cunts you are!"

Dylan trembled. My father held him close. Was he trying to provoke me? Maybe that's what he wanted, for me to do something so I could get arrested so they wouldn't have to deal with a messed up reject like me. Sorry. Not falling for it.

I stared them down, especially Dylan. Sooner or later he would falter...But instead of backing down Dylan stepped forward. Although he was hurt and bruised he held his head high and looked at me defiantly, as if he had nothing to be ashamed of. His face was tight and tense, and I could tell he was restraining himself from crying. He was shaking, but he had this strange assurance and confidence that fueled my anger. Frustration came over me. Only one other person had the guts to look at me like that.

My heart sank when I realized why I hated Kurt so much. At first he was just another target but the more I felt drawn towards him the more violent I became, as if I couldn't bear the thought of even being civil to him. It scared me. It was terrifying to not fully understand why I could hate someone so much. But now I knew. Kurt reminded me of him...

Both of them were beautiful, talented, lively, and self-assured. They had the same kind of walk, the same confident air about them. They even sounded the same. I remembered how I would watch Kurt, seeing images of the man who stole my father away. I remember how I compared them, hoping to find something, any reason for me not to lash out at Kurt for simply resembling a man I hated. I wanted to find an excuse to spare Kurt the blunt of my suppressed anger. Why? I wasn't even sure...or maybe I'm just to afraid to confess the answer.

I tried to think of Kurt as a better person, I really did. But it was all ruined when I saw how he was all over Finn Hudson. Quin was supposedly with Finn's kid and Kurt still had the nerve to chase after him like a lost puppy. If anything, Kurt was worse than Dylan. Kurt didn't even wait for the kid to come out before he tried to get into Finn's sheets. It was pathetic and sick. And it was too similar to what happened to me. I was determined to hate Kurt from then on. And why not? If he was willing to take a man from his responsibilities and family in the past, of course he'd do it again. If Kurt thought he could spin around people's emotions like that, then damn him! That little fag could screw up other people's lives but not mine. I will never make my father's mistake. I can't bring back that pain. I can't fall in love with Kurt. Even if it was too late.

Watching my Father and Dylan together kept the fire boiling beneath my skin. But at the same time I kept seeing myself and Kurt standing in their places. Why? Of the damn people in this fucking world did Kurt have to look like him so much? Why do I still have this desire to be near Kurt even though I know he'll be nothing but trouble in the end? How come I can't stop looking at every door at the fucking school, hoping that Kurt would step through them? How can I hate him and still feel so...so ashamed about what I've done? Why does he make me want to forget what happened about the past and finally take a chance?

My breath was caught in my throat. The feelings I had for Kurt, both the hate, disgust, and desire frightened me. I can't fall for him. I can't end up like Dad. And I wasn't about to admit that I took after his sick defect!

The world blurred. My eyes were hot and wet.

"Davey—"

"Don't call me that!" I snapped. My fist were tight and ready to strike. A group of people were coming towards us. Fine. Let them see what happens to fathers who break their families and the boy whores that steal them.

"Son—"

"You really want to go through this again? I'm not your son anymore. And you know what? I bet you didn't even care what the fuck happened to us. All those things you said about loving Robbie and me...bet all that was a lie, just like everything else in your god damn life. You probably just dealt with us the same way you dealt with Mom. We were just props to cover your dirty little secret. Just something to hide behind. You never loved us. And that was some grade-A bullshit you said about Robbie and me being your favorite guys in the world. Your own sons weren't enough to make you stay. Congrats on finding replacements though. Bet it's a fucking wonderful life. And I have no part in it so get the fuck out of my face!"

"Dave—"

"And this time stay out! Don't you ever come near me again. The next time I see you I'll kill you. And him. And all the rest of you god damn freaks!"

I felt possessed, as if my body had suddenly acted on it's own. I leapt for Dylan, my arm drawn back to strike him across the face. Reason had completely left me. I didn't care where I ended up. I was a total wreck anyways. It would always be that way. And it wasn't fair. Someone had to share my pain.

I threw my body forward, smashing my fist right at Dylan's jaw. I almost had him too but I was tackled from the side. I didn't fall to the ground, but I stumbled enough to miss my mark. The intruder pushed me away with surprising strength. It wasn't my father. This one was strong but smaller and faster, and ready for a fight.

The salty sting of blood trickled down my mouth. The bastard managed to punch me. My eyes narrowed. I began to lunge when my feet froze in place. This isn't real. No fucking way.

"Get away from him!" Dylan grabbed the kid's blue blazer, pulling him back from me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The short kid wasn't so polite this time. Last time he was a calm little know-it-all who acted like he had all of life's answers. Now he was roughed up, his cheek grazed with ice from his attempted fight. Dylan reached up and touched the cut. He turned the kid's face towards him.

"What were you thinking?" Dylan demanded, "You know better than to get into a fight!"

"He's not getting away with this Dad. I won't let him."

"No. I'm okay." Dylan said, brushing back his son's curly hair, "I'm alright baby, I swear. Just calm down. Okay Blaine? Are you listening to me? Blaine!"

People had started to pour into the scene now, and I had to get out before anyone recognized me. I turned to dash for my truck when a pair of terrified bright eyes met mine.

Kurt.

What was he doing standing here in front of me? He couldn't stop me from leaving. A simple push and I could make a straight run for the truck. But his gaze held me still. I found myself drifting into his stare, as if he was searching for something. Or rather we were both searching for something in each other. He opened his mouth slightly, but whatever he wanted to say vanished before it left his lips.

Blaine called out his name and the trance was broken. Terror seized him when he realized I was so close. He trembled and I swore that tears were slipping down his flawless face.

"Leave," He whispered, his voice breaking. "Never come near me again."

His words were all it took to make me go. He never pushed me or threw a fit. He ran to Blaine as I ran for my truck. I didn't look back to see them when I drove off. Kurt's face was still etched in my mind. He was terrified of me. But through the anger and fear I saw something more in the way he looked at me...like he was sad for me, like he pitied me.

And why wouldn't he? I had absolutely nothing. Dylan and Blaine had everything. They were wealthy, good looking, talented, with the world and a million possibilities laid out at their feet. After all this they would return to their marble and glass home with all the comforts that go with being rich and successful. Instead, I would be stuck in the same broken down house with a heap of problems waiting at the doorstep. And I would face those problems alone. Unlike Dylan and Blaine. They had my father to depend on. They had Kurt.

Instead of going home to face the drunken cries of my mother, I turned to the road that lead to the cementery. It wouldn't change anything, but right now I had no one else to talk to. I needed to be close to Robbie again.

Thinking of Robbie, I began to hum one of his favorite songs. Stupid move. I had to pull over. There was no way I would get to the cementery like this. I pounded my fists at the steering wheel, raging and cursing til I began to cry. I bit back another sob. My breath left me so harshly it burned.

I started the car again and slowly made my way to the part of the cementery where Robbie rested. I would tell him of the past eight years, and I'll tell him only the good things, like how I made the football team just like he said I would. Or how I had a shot at a sports scholarship. Or how Christmas at the park was pretty much the same, almost exactly how he left it and that he didn't miss anything too exciting.

I thought about the other things I'd say to him. But always, only the good stuff. Even in death I spared him the bad news. That was left for me.

I knew that after this night, I'd be the same place I've always been.

I'd fall asleep after hours of frustrated crying and dream about how things could have been.

Sometimes I would dream that my family was still intact, happy, and complete. And the world was filled with Robbie's songs.

But I would always, always dream of Kurt. I could follow him in my dreams without seeing any fear or hate in his eyes. In my dreams we could be free, and no one would need to be hurt. It didn't matter who he looked like, or what happened in the past. I could love him without any shame. And the best part of it was that he would love me too. Completely.

And I wanted to stay in that dream. I never wanted to wake up and face the harsh truth that the ones I love would always choose someone else.

And no amount of songs or dreaming could change that.

A/N: So how did it go? I know, I know, the guy during the "Furt" episode really is Dave's Dad, but this is fanfiction right? I would like to hear your thoughts. Any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for reading :)