Kurt is my favorite character on Glee. And I just recently watched 'Furt', and burst into tears. I must have cried for about twenty minutes. I guess this sort of came from that. Don't worry, not depressing (I don't think.)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Glee belongs to the gods Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan, and the Fox channel.
someday
by shu of the wind
I.
Someday, things will be different.
He hopes for this. Wishes for it. (He doesn't pray for it because no matter what Mercedes says, he doesn't and will never believe in a god that says it's right to hunt someone down for their proven genetics, call them freak for being different, call them homo and lady and freak and trash.) He's holding out for that day because the day when he knows he won't be insulted for something he is will be the day when he will finally feel safe.
Because even though he's not at McKinley anymore, he can't always feel safe. Karofsky has broken him. Innocence isn't part of him anymore, not really. Before Karofsky, he knew that being the only openly gay kid in school was going to be hard; after Karofsky, he knows that the rest of the world is going to be that way, and someday, no matter how hard he tries, he's going to meet another Karofsky.
Courage, Blaine says.
I'll be there for you, Finn says, after Kurt has transferred and they're living in the same house (and it reminds him a little of the opening to Friends, and how could Jennifer Aniston have fallen so low as The Switch after such a start) but he knows that Finn's not always going to be there, and neither is the rest of New Directions, or even the Warblers eventually.
High school is a dry run for life, his dad says, and if this is a dry run for life in Ohio then he knows he's going to be leaving as soon as he graduates and he won't feel guilty about abandoning his father for New York City (not San Francisco, because that's clichéd, and besides, Broadway.)
But sometimes he wanders around town (mostly to Starbucks, because it's sinful and sometimes he wants to be a bit sinful, and not for his 'life choices', either, thank you, dwarf in a teapot) and he hears other kids, not from McKinley, from other high schools, laugh and say 'but that's so gay!' like it's an insult, and he knows to them it is an insult.
And of course, what else is he really expecting in a school (city) (world) like this one, but it stings deep down and what's the point of it anymore?
II.
Nothing in his life is going to be the same, now that his family isn't just Burt and Kurt, it's Furt and Barrel and Karol and Binn and every single name combo in the book that he can think of and write down and doodle randomly when he's bored in math class. It's no longer Kurt with the dead mom, but Kurt with a stepmom and stepbrother-he-used-to-like-and-secretly-still-kind-of-does and that's just a bit strange considering they now share a shower (and Finn cannot keep his hands off of the silky-smooth, melon-scented shampoo, but whatever, that's why he makes Finn buy it now).
He still hears things about New Directions from Finn, like if Finn is complaining about someone not hitting the right note in practice (though that's more of a Berry thing to complain about, and since they've broken up Kurt isn't sure what's going on at all, and he's not a good spy, as shown by the Dalton School Infiltration Fiasco), and it makes him sad because even though he doesn't like the sweaty-sock smell and cramped halls of McKinley, he misses glee club with Mercedes and everyone else.
He still hangs out with Mercedes. She shows up every Friday evening, after the Friday Night Dinner, for a movie marathon because neither of them have school until Monday, and even though Dalton has a huge homework load it doesn't really matter because he never goes to church on Sunday, unlike the rest of his family. Or Mercedes. Neither ever mention glee club, not really, though they do talk about songs that they could duet someday.
Sometimes they do duet, in the park or something, and once Mercedes set out a can – as a joke – but they get like four hundred bucks and go to the mall with it.
(They do better than Puck and he's pleased about that, because Puck is a jackass.)
(Even if he's kind of hot.)
III.
He doesn't like making lists. Burt thinks it's weird that he doesn't, because he's organized and tapes up pads of paper so people can write down grocery lists (Carol loves this idea and doesn't understand why she never thought of it in the first place) and folds the laundry because his dad folds it wrong. But he doesn't like lists because that's something his mom used to do.
She would have loved Dalton, and not because Dalton has fancy uniforms. He knows it, because he loves it, and she would have been happy for him to go there.
Dalton is different from McKinley, and not just because of the zero-tolerance bullying policy. It's different in a hundred different tiny ways that smack him in the face every time he turns the corner, but there are five that really count.
Dalton smells like a thousand different kinds of cologne and aftershave and he breathes it in because it's different and it's clean and it's nothing like McKinley. (In fact, the only place that the two smell any way similar is the locker room, and he has a sneaking suspicion that all high school locker rooms smell the same.)
Dalton is all wood and uniforms, and it's like the uniforms unlock a barrier that he wasn't even aware of. Nobody is staring at him for his outfits anymore. Nobody cares. It's almost a delicious feeling, though the loss of individuality is a bit of a bitch. Uniform amendments are a no-no. He has to decorate his cabinet instead.
(They're called cabinets at Dalton, not lockers. It's kind of awesome. Also kind of English. But yeah. Again, whatever.)
Dalton has two hundred students. McKinley has two thousand. Two. Thousand. People. Out of two thousand people there were only eleven others who could accept who he was. At Dalton, there are a little less than two hundred, and that little less keep it way quiet if they don't.
Dalton challenges him in a way that McKinley never could. Dalton has better classes and better teachers – teachers who care way more about the students than the ones at McKinley ever did, except for Mr. Schue.
And Dalton has Blaine.
Not that he likes making lists.
IV.
Once he runs into Quinn in the crappy mall that Lima has to offer. He gets a flashback of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, with her hair ginger and in a frizz of an afro (not a good look for her).
She's wearing a ring and he sees it immediately, and quirks an eyebrow. Bleached-blonde moves fast, doesn't he?
She blushes. Quinn Fabray blushes pink, like the Catholic schoolgirl she's really not, and she fiddles with the ring like Carol did when she and Burt broke the news. Just for a second, though. Then she gives him a sideways look and flicks through a few gorgeous jackets.
It doesn't bother you?
He knows exactly what she's talking about but he doesn't bite. Why would it bother me?
Well…Pause. He's promised to marry me someday.
And why would it bother me that he did that?
Because gay marriage isn't legal in the state of Ohio.
She says it quite blandly for someone who always wears a little gold cross around her neck and goes to church every Sunday and whose daddy kicked her out for having sex with a boy and getting pregnant by accident.
He pauses and checks another coat, a pea coat in teal. And what do you care if gay marriage is legal in the state of Ohio?
It's bitchy of him to say it in that tone, and she gives him a slant-eyed look so that she knows he knows it's bitchy.
Don't play coy with me, Kurt. Her fingers go to the ring again, twisting away. Twist twist twist, like it's a noose and it's strangling her. It's hard for you. I know it is.
And what do you care?
I care, Kurt. We all care.
Your people have taught you for years that people like me are sick deviants. He flicks through another coat and watches her twist the ring out of the corner of his eye, twist twist twist. That's what the church teaches, right? That we choose to live this way?
Who would ever choose a life where they're hated? He knows he's asked that question before, and she knows it because she suddenly can't meet his gaze. She's silent for a long time.
You know, in Native American cultures those who were homosexual were regarded as blessed. She fingers a scarf. Two-spirits. They said they were had both a male and female spirit in their bodies. In a lot of tribes, they were greatly respected. They were the healers, they foretold the future.
I've heard that before. Kurt says lightly.
Quinn takes her fingers away from the ring and looks at him. Just because I'm religious doesn't mean I don't look at other religions. And it doesn't mean that I think they're wrong.
I don't think any of them are right.
That's your option. She lifts one shoulder. But it's still better than the rest of the world, right?
He doesn't speak. Doesn't hook up. There's no real point. She's going to go down the God path now, he can feel it.
You always pushed us away. She says. All of us. There were some things you would never mention. You never complained, but you always pushed us away. Even Mercedes. You never trusted us enough to really let us help you.
What's the point of this? Are you trying to make me horrible? I know I made mistakes. There's no point in going all over it again because I have, believe me. He should step back from the racks and leave her there, but he doesn't want to move, because she's a link to the old world that he still kind of misses. But it was my problem and I was going to deal with it.
You act like a man at the weirdest times.
I'm a man, Quinn. Deal with it.
She ignores him. You pushed us away because none of us could really understand, and I get that. I pushed everyone away when I was… She doesn't say it. Pregnant. It's like she can't. I couldn't deal with it and I knew none of you would understand, and I pushed you all away. You could have helped me and I pushed you away anyway, because I wanted to…She waves a hand. Whatever. But it's different for me now. Is it different for you?
He thinks of Dalton, and he thinks of the Warblers. He thinks of Furt and wood paneling and Blaine. Almost.
And almost is far closer to better than it ever was before. Almost means everything.
So does it bother you? She flashes a hand at him, the ring a glint of metal. The promise ring.
Kurt thinks about it, honestly, for a second. Then he takes a scarf off of the hanger and drapes it around her neck. It's green and it looks nice against her hair and eyes. (Brown-eyed blonde. Bitch gets all the luck.)
A ring doesn't bother me, Quinn. You holding hands with a boy, that doesn't bother me. You kissing a boy, that doesn't bother me. And someday you marrying someone you care about, that doesn't bother me either. He shrugs. All I really want is to be able to do the same thing.
She looks down at the scarf, and then grabs one for him and puts it around his neck. It's a mild pewter blue, not something he would have picked himself, but when he tries to take it off she smacks his hand. Then she takes it in hers and squeezes it. It's the first time she's really willingly touched him. It shocks him like static.
I want that for you too, Kurt.
Then Quinn Fabray walks away, and when he checks out the scarf in the mirror, it's not half bad. He decides to buy it, and wears it to school the next day. Blaine asks him where he bought it, and he says that a friend gave it to him.
He wonders if Quinn bought the green scarf.
V.
Someday, things will be different.
He hopes for this. Wishes for it. He's holding out for that day because the day when he knows he won't be insulted for something he is will be the day when he will finally feel safe.
Innocence isn't a part of him anymore, not really.
But he's starting to trust that maybe – he hopes – he wishes – things can change.
Someday.
iStat: WARNING: There's some language.
Story title: Someday
Story word count: 1,733
Story rating: Meh, T.