blanket disclaimer: No, I do not own Glee, though it would make a fantastic present *hint, hint*. Please refrain from suing me? Thanks. :)

CHAOS THEORY: Vibrato

Chapter 1- A Butterfly Effect

"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."

-Chaos Theory

…

"There's a ripple effect in all that we do. What you do touches me; what I do touches you."

-Anonymous

He hoped they could help.

He hoped it could be simple.

And, maybe, just maybe, he could have gained a friend, an ally at school among all the masses of rough, homophobic jocks and cold, cruel stoners and snotty, condescending Bible-thumpers. Once he'd allowed himself to calm down from the failed closeted-bully-intervention, his despair had been somewhat alleviated by time. He'd dared to hope that perhaps all of this would get Karofsky to slowly but surely back off, and, eventually, the whole ordeal would just serve as a good catalyst to make the other boy emerge from the enormous closet he'd locked himself in.

And he could just pretend Karofsky hadn't winked at him that day at lunch and wasn't terrifying the living hell out of him.

He could do that.

Really he could.

It wouldn't be too hard or anything. At least- he didn't think it would be.

But then….but-

"Cause if you do"

Then-

"I'll Kill You."

The words slamming into him. The cold chill of absolute terror. The hot throb of tears behind his eyes.

People said shit like that all the time. Just Joking.

But then.

This. Karofsky.

The words had been said with such conviction. Such finality, such resolution.

It wasn't a joke. It really wasn't. He could feel it deep in his bones, in the pit of his chest, in his marrow and his blood. His whole body just knew.

It wasn't a joke.

Kurt was sure of that, and he knew Karofsky was too, but he felt like…well, like laughing, really. He felt like laughing, and crying and falling over and sobbing and screaming and hurling objects at walls and maybe, just maybe, hurling his guts out at them, too. He felt like he was dying already, as he stood there, paralyzed in the bustling hall where no one ever cared, and no one ever noticed. And, perhaps, more than any thing else, Kurt felt alone, so secluded and so isolated and so desperately, painfully singular that it crushed him.

Kurt Hummel was Atlas, the world perched on his shoulders, folding him into a helpless, very much solitary, ball of a boy, with his shaking, aching, arms the only thing preventing the Earth from crashing down upon him.

Atlas was strong, and so was Kurt Hummel, but he was beginning to feel tiredness overwhelm his body and soon enough he just knew he would give out. It was inevitable, all just a matter of time…

Oh God...

Had Karofsky forgotten that Blaine knew? He…He might have…Oh, shit… And Kurt had sworn he hadn't told anyone. It hadn't occurred to him that Blaine…And if Karofsky had forgotten, and if he then remembered, no, no, when Karofsky then remembered, he would come after Kurt. He'd come after him with the intent to kill him. And what then?

Well nothing, of course. He'd just be dead.

Kurt had told his friends a few months ago that he didn't believe in God. And he didn't, dammit, he couldn't! What kind of God did this to people? Just no. Logic inconsistencies aside, it was so wrong. Kurt couldn't believe in something that would do this, create things and then basically just constantly psychologically torture them. What? It wasn't okay for abusers and serial killers and all that, but if you were God, if you were the creator, it was perfectly alright? Hell, it was more than alright, it was…like a gift of some kind. And they were all just supposed to take it? Fuck no. Kurt Hummel was so not cool with that.

But.

But…

Still, he almost…wished…that he could believe in it, if only to escape the idea that if things went wrong, if Karofsky did kill him or Gaga-forbid some other pathetic bashers did, that would be it. He'd just be gone, evaporated into nothing but a cold shell body. And even that would eventually just disintegrate away. Kurt desperately wanted to believe that there was more, that he wasn't as temporary and breakable as he knew himself scientifically to be, and, yet, he also knew that there wasn't a prayer for him in that way, if the pun could be forgiven. Kurt placed his faith in the solid, in the there, always had, always would, and as much as it would be comforting to believe otherwise, he simply couldn't.

How easily all he held close to him, how easily his life, could just be snapped away from him. Just. Like. That. He could feel it now. His mortality. His fragility.

He'd never felt anything so scary.

But Hummels didn't let anybody push them around, so Kurt took a deep, shaky breath and stuffed his hands into the surprisingly deep pockets of his charcoal jacket and moved himself stiffly forward. He was Kurt Hummel and maybe right now he felt a little…cracked….like when a porcelain doll fell and gathered little spider-webbing breaks upon it's crème, perfect flesh, but that was okay, because cracks like those were easily covered up and, with a bit of time and superglue, everything always ended up fine.

Of course, if it didn't, well…

Kurt purposefully neglected to remember that those cracks were almost always a prelude to shatter, and that if the proper care didn't come on time, something almost always happened to make the situation worse.

But all that was OK, as long as he didn't think about it too much. So, Kurt walked down the now empty hallway towards his last class of the day, making sure to only think in terms of fashion and song. It helped him feel a little more in control…and a little less alone.

Finn had been feeling a bit…off all day, but the sensation didn't really, clearly hit him until he entered the choir room with Burt and they took their places on the stools at the front of the room. Kurt smiled at them from next to the piano, and placed his hands on his hips.

"Thank you both for attending the Kurt Hummel wedding-dance seminar."

Finn was quietly amused by how young Kurt looked when he said that.

"Dad, you're going to have to pull off the first dance with Carole. And if Uncle Andy's 40th birthday party was any indication, you're going to need some work."

"What are you talking about? My moves were great okay? It was the damn sangria…affected my coordination." Burt defended himself good-naturedly as he stood and made his way towards his son.

"Okay, We dance to the beat, not the words. Stand right here. Have you guys chosen a-no- a wedding song?"

"Uh, yes, we're thinking "Stairway" or some Bublé."

"Okay, great. So, it's basically one-two-three-four."

They moved into position and Finn had to shove down his instinctive reaction of discomfort. Even he knew that now wasn't the time.

"Alright, gentleman leads on the left. Right. Opposite of me. Okay? Get Ready. One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four."

And they were off. Finn picked at his shirt a bit. Now, this was both awkward and...kinda boring.

Finn just barely restrained a yawn. He had to do this for his mom, if anything. The four of them were going to be a family soon, and that meant he'd probably be putting up with Kurt's..well…Kurt-ness (and gay-ness…), for a really long time. He looked up as Burt exclaimed, "Look at me: I'm dancing!"

"Yeah," Kurt replied enthusiastically. "Okay, come over here and dance with yourself. Practice."

And that was his cue, he gathered. Nonetheless, he remained slumped on the stool, reluctant to actually stand up and dance with Kurt, like he was supposed to. Finn was totally cool with the gay-thing now, but actually dancing with Kurt, who was like the fairy queen of Narnia or whatever, was just too weird. Not that that would matter, he realized, to his mom, who had looked so proud when he agreed to do this thing in the first place.

Dammit, Finn groaned inwardly. There was no way he was going to be able to get out of this.

"Okay, Finn, no chickening out. I did it. You gotta do it too." Kurt jerked his head slightly as his father spoke, beckoning the taller boy to the floor.

Finn exhaled out an awkward okay, and stood, dragging his feet a bit as he went to where Kurt stood expectantly.

"Alright. Position."

Finn shuffled a bit, eyes darting towards the open door and the fairly empty expanse of McKinley hall beyond. Nervousness pooled in his stomach, and lumped in his throat.

"Uh…Can- can we like…shut the door?"

Kurt gave him a patented Kurt-look that said plainly how ridiculous he thought that was.

"What are you talking about? You danced in front of a thousand people at Regionals."

The feeling of discomfort grew, though, and Finn found himself walking towards the door anyways, tossing an "It'll only take a sec," over his shoulder at Kurt's incredulous face.

Finn reached the door in a few quick strides, closing it as he caught a glimpse of Karofsky approaching. It was probably a good thing, really, he figured. Who knew what Karofsky might have done or said if he'd seen them…? Finn automatically went over and shut the other door as well.

"See?" he said to Kurt's annoyed frame. "It only took a few seconds."

Burt shot Finn a mild look of warning mixed with amusement as he continued to dance with himself.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you need, Finn," he sighed. Then, he jerked his head again, a little harder than before, his movements and expression somehow exasperated, patient, and resigned all at once, and this time when Finn joined him it was with absolutely no protest.

It was odd, really. After he'd closed both doors, Finn had gotten this really funny feeling, like time had slowed down for a moment then rapidly sped up. It had been a little dizzying really, like the head rush you got from standing too quickly. And there'd also been this feeling, in his chest, like…like relief, almost. Now, though, the odd feelings were forgotten as he focused on his almost-step-brother, and learning how to properly dance.

A/N-

I hope you all caught the minor change that was made. :P Fair warning, this fic is headed toward a really dark place. Yes, Blaine will be involved. Obviously, Karofsky will be, too. Honestly, you can expect everyone introduced by Furt, and maybe some others to be in here, in some way or another. I'm wary about giving warnings, because I like to have my readers adjust naturally to the story, without expectation. Therefore, the most I will really do on the story itself is let you know that there are dark themes ahead. If you want more at some point, you can just let me know in a PM or something, and I will address the matter privately. There is a definite trigger warning here, as well, by the way. I'm writing pieces of this based on personal experience, both real and potential. If you have any personal experiences in anything addressed, or anything like that, feel free to contact me and chide me, advise me, whatever. As a final note, please no Flames. If you have any problems whatsoever with homosexuality, I have no idea why you are on this story, in the Kurt section. Kurt is a gay character, and, so, the logical-conclusion is that if he is heavily involved in a story there will be some measures of slash. Homophobia is not logical, nor welcome here.

Please review. It would make me super happy. :D

~LunalitSol~