Apparently, the lack of Dave on Glee has turned my muse into a total emo teenager, because she's refusing to send anything fluffy or Kurtofsky-romance related to my brain. I'm certainly hoping for some encouraging spoilers or maybe some good stuff when the show comes back, so she'll get out of this funk. In the meantime, have some angst. It's obviously all she's good for these days :P Just a warning that Kurt is downright cruel to Dave in this story (though not, I think, undeservedly so), so if that sort of thing isn't your cup of tea, you might want to turn back now. And Dave's no hero in this one either. And to make it a triple cluster-f*ck, there's mild Klaine in here too. What is my life?

I don't like to torture my boys, I swear, and I hope that I'll be back to writing non-stop smut and lovely-dovey Kurtofsky as soon as possible. It's not exactly wonderful seeing all this stuff in my head, believe me. :(

This story is based on the spoiler that Dave will slushy Santana at some point, and the following spoiler from an interview with Corey (Finn) about the upcoming Born This Way episode:

TV Guide Magazine: Judging by the title, I'm guessing this is the episode in which homophobic Karofsky finally comes to terms with who he is?
Cory: For sure, and there's a little blackmail involved. It gets kind of heavy.

On his first day back at McKinley, Kurt told himself that he was ready for anything. He didn't want to be there, but sadly, the amount of money one put away for a Hawaiian honeymoon turned out to not quite be enough for even a full year's tuition at Dalton. His mom and dad had just taken out a new mortgage for the larger house, and while Burt's garage wasn't exactly struggling, he wasn't making nearly the kind of income required to send your kid to Kurt's former school. He knew they felt terrible about him having to go back into the lion's den, but there was no other choice, and Kurt wasn't going to make them feel guilty or bad about something that couldn't be helped.

Although one would think running into Dave Karofsky again might be his biggest worry, he wasn't nearly as terrified as he thought he'd be. For one thing, his confidence had been soaring since he and Blaine had started dating. He felt loved and appreciated, and it gave him a little warm bubble of contentment that he carried around with himself constantly. And everyone knew bullies preyed the most viciously on those who wore their vulnerability and fear on their sleeve. So there was that. But mostly, it was because his dad had taken it upon himself to call Paul Karofsky last week and have a little chat about what would be expected of Karofsky upon Kurt's return to school. Burt had informed Paul that if Kurt came home with so much as one tiny bruise, or tale of being terrorized by Karofsky, he was going beyond the school to the police and having a restraining order taken out on Paul's son. Burt shared his feelings that any colleges scouting Karofsky might not be that excited about finding out that the kid had a violent history. Paul had agreed; even though he and his wife had gotten Dave's's expulsion reversed, his dad had never been convinced that he'd gotten anything approaching the whole story from his son. So he promised Burt that he would talk to Dave, and make it clear that he was expected to stay as far away from Kurt as humanly possible. Kurt didn't fool himself that it would be anything that would last, but he figured it might be enough to get Karofsky to lay off him for a while. There were only 10 weeks left in the school year, so maybe the threat, combined with his own attempts to avoid running into his bully, could see him through without any major physical or emotional trauma. He was sure he'd take some abuse and plenty of slushying from the other jocks, but he figured if he could go home at the end of the day and cuddle with Blaine it would be somehow tolerable in the short term.

But what Kurt didn't realize was that, due to events that had transpired overnight, Kurt was the last person on any McKinley bully's radar that day. This became clear to him when he came across Santana sobbing her eyes out in a remote janitor's closet, covered with slushy residue. Kurt had only come across her because he was trying to take the most roundabout way to his classes, in case Burt's threat hadn't worked and Karofsky started stalking him again. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He hadn't been aware that Santana was even capable of tears, let alone the gut-wrenching ones tearing out of her chest. Kurt approached her gently, not wanting to startle her. She'd never been one of his favorite people, and had been downright mean about his sexuality and effeminate qualities plenty of times. But this broken girl didn't even seem like the same person, so he decided it was worth blowing off his Trig class to try and help her. He kneeled close and spoke softly. "Santana? Are you okay?"

She opened up her eyes and Kurt blanched at the misery and fear in them. He'd seen that same look in his own mirror way too many times to count earlier in the school year, and it made his chest ache with empathy. Santana tried to answer him, tears streaming from her wide eyes, but couldn't seem to make any words come out. Kurt edged closer and took her hand with his, reaching into his messenger bag with the other for the starched handkerchiefs he always carried. He offered her a couple, making soothing noises, and she began to calm a little as she wiped her face. "Thanks," she managed to choke out.

"What happened?" he asked. When she rolled her teary eyes at him, he continued. "I mean, I can see you got slushied. But why? Even though you're in glee, they never went after you before. Is it because you're not a Cheerio anymore?"

Santana looked at him in disbelief. "You mean you don't know? It's all over the school," she said in a voice made gravely from crying.

"No, I've been trying to lay low and keep moving. What happened, Santana?" he asked again.

Her pretty face crumpled. "They found out about me. Everyone did. I wrote Brittany a letter, but she must have dropped it. Or someone must have stolen it from her."

The hair on the back of Kurt's neck stood up. He'd sometimes gotten a vibe from Brittany and Santana when they were together, but always in a Katy Perry or Girls Gone Wild kind of way. Certainly nothing serious. But it sure as hell looked serious at the moment. "What…" Kurt cleared the lump that had suddenly settled in his throat, and tried again. "What did the letter say, Santana?"

"What do you think?" she burst out. "You, Kurt, of all people should know. Aren't other gays supposed to have the best gaydar?" Santana gave a wet , humorless laugh. "I wrote that I loved her. That I wanted to be with her, and that if she would just leave Artie we could be together. I wrote that she was the most beautiful thing in my life, and that she's the only one out of everyone I've fucked that I've actually had a real orgasm with. Shit, I don't even have to tell you about it. Just take out your iPhone and bring up that fucker Ben-Israel's blog."

Kurt stared at Santana as she continued, having no idea what to say. What had happened to him was terrible, but this was beyond his worst imaginings. Being outed like that had to be the most awful thing that he could imagine, and he felt tears prick his own eyes at the girl's anguish. "I don't even care that they know we had sex. It's no big deal, I mean, most guys get off on that shit. Two hot cheerleaders scissoring and eating each other's pussies? It's what the porn industry was built on, for Christ's sake. But that's not what I wrote about, Kurt. I wrote about what I was feeling with my heart, not my body. We could sell out the auditorium if we sold tickets for people to watch Britt and I fuck each other. But the minute they know it's more than that, it's not so fucking hot anymore, I guess. It's disgusting, and perverted." She barked out a sob. "And wrong."

"It's not-" started Kurt, but she cut him off sharply.

"It is to them, Kurt," she said. "We're wrong, because of who we love. And they hate us for it." She took a deep breath. "Right before that fuckwad Karofsky slushied me, I could see it in his eyes. How much he hated me."

The minute the name came out of Santana's mouth, Kurt felt like someone had doused him with an ice cold slushy. But it was quickly replaced by a burning in his stomach that soon radiated to every corner of his being. The rage was so intense, it was as if he was seeing things through a haze of red for the moment. In a deadly quiet voice, he said, "Karofsky was the one who threw the slushy?"

"Yeah," Santana sniffed. "He said, 'Let's see if this gets you as wet as fucking another girl does, dyke'. Then he tossed it in my face and walked off, laughing."

"He wasn't in a group?" asked Kurt. "It was just him?"

Santana looked at him funny, as if she couldn't figure out what difference that made. She shrugged. "Just him. One single giant, homophobic asshole."

It had been one thing when Kurt thought Karofsky's more vicious, independent bullying was just against him. Sure, a lot of it was because he was gay and Karofsky was so horribly closeted and filled with self-loathing. But he also figured it had a lot to do with the fact that the other boy was attracted to him, and probably hated that more than anything. Targeting Santana the same way he'd done with Kurt, though? That was just…so fucked up there were no words for it. He had to put a stop to this; he simply could not live in a world where Dave Karofsky abused every other gay kid he came across, just because he couldn't handle the fact that he found penis compelling. Just because you're gay yourself, doesn't mean it's not a hate crime, thought Kurt.

Before he could figure out what to do about Karofsky, though, he wanted to make sure Santana was okay. So he put his anger aside for the moment and focused on her. Smiling, and wiping at one of her fresh tears, he began to sing. Every day is so wonderful. And suddenly, it's hard to breathe. Now and then, I get insecure from all the pain. I'm so ashamed…

Santana smiled back at him. Just a little, but it was there. She started to sing too. I am beautiful, no matter what they say. Words can't bring me down…

By the time they finished the song, Santana had stopped crying, and was ready to try and wash the red dye out of her blouse and hair. And Kurt Hummel had a plan for stopping Dave Karofsky's homophobic bullshit once and for all.