AN: Welcome, folks. This is the sequel to a previous story of mine, "A World Apart." If you haven't read it yet, I suggest you start there; I'm not going to spend any time recapping or going over the main premise/diversion from canon.
I just hope I don't disappoint with this sequel; I want to tell a good story, one that hangs together well and addresses some points and storylines in canon that I thought deserved more/better. (That also means backgrounding or cutting off some that seemed pointless or insulting. Hey, if I didn't at least try to focus, we'd be here all year!) This is especially a concern considering there's obviously a subset of characters I'm focusing on here, as I did in the previous installment, for reasons which I think are already clear. Hopefully, these changes arise organically from character and divergences that already happened in "A World Apart."
Okay, enough talk. We're all in for quite a ride, I hope, so let's get started...
Kurt Hummel was in another world. Maybe even another universe.
Yet everything seemed to be the same. It was still McKinley High School looming on front of him. It was still Lima, Ohio in which he was living. None of that had changed in the slightest.
But his life had changed, drastically, since this time last year. He had changed. That one little fact altered everything.
As he emerged from his car, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Two keystrokes dialed a particular number, one he'd called many times. One ring. Two. Three. Four. Kurt frowned; usually someone answered long before this. He was about to resign himself to voice mail when the ringing abruptly stopped.
"Hey, Kurt!"
Just the sound of the voice on the other end brought a smile to his face. "Hello, David."
"What's up? I, uh, didn't think you'd be calling right now..."
"I decided to get to school a little early for the first day. Did you need to go...?"
"No, no! I was just surprised, is all. You ready for your senior year?" Dave Karofsky's voice carried the slightest hint of mischief, which was puzzling, since there didn't seem to be any reason for it.
Kurt turned it over in his mind for a moment, then promptly dismissed it. He leaned against his car, not even thinking about how dusty it might have been making the back of his long gray coat. "Definitely. How about you? Everything going well at Dalton?"
"Uh... I'm doing okay. Just getting some things rolling."
Kurt nodded, forgetting for a moment that the gesture couldn't be seen. "Well, you get back to whatever you were doing. I just wanted to say hi before the school day started."
"Sure! I'll see you soon, okay?"
"I look forward to it! Love you!" The words were easy, casual yet not perfunctory, as if they expressed something that was so evident that speaking them was a mere formality.
"Love you too." The call cut off, and Kurt beamed, staring at the phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket and cutting across the McKinley parking lot in long strides. The day had definitely started the right way. Nothing could break his good mood.
No, not even the sight of Jacob ben Israel charging towards him, mike outstretched and cameraman jogging closely behind. Kurt had gotten used to this beginning-of-the-year rite of passage to begin with, and that short phone call with Dave seemed to put him into this bubble of contentment (and in less than three minutes!) Jacob couldn't possibly prick.
"Kurt Hummel!" the erstwhile gossip reporter yelled, waggling his microphone in Kurt's face like a phallus (and God, was that a mental image he did not need). "What have you been up to this summer? Started any more orgies? Planning a future that probably involves competing in a pathetic RuPaul's Drag Race knockoff?"
Kurt shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. "Oh, Jacob, you pasty little troll doll, I missed you too."
But still... summer... Now that was something worth remembering...
June 3
Dave's hand slipped around his almost casually. The warmth and roughness startled Kurt; at once, it seemed like the entire mall had emptied of people, of sights, of sounds. He stopped dead in the middle of the doorway, earning him annoyed glances he didn't even notice.
Dave, however, did notice, especially when he almost pulled Kurt off his feet, having not realized his companion's sudden stop. "Uh, Kurt? You okay?"
Kurt blinked. "I... uh..."
Dave looked down at their linked hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you not want to...?" He flushed. "Christ, I'm an idiot. I'm taking this way too fast, aren't I? I just thought, even if our relationship was just probationary, maybe we could..." He started to let go.
"No, no!" Kurt leaped forward, squeezing Dave's hand even tighter. "I was just startled! And... I've never actually held a guy's hand in public before."
Dave blinked and looked around a little, as if he were just realizing the stares they were getting from passers-by. "You haven't? Really?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "David, I've never actually been with anyone. Who would I have held hands with?"
"Oh. Right." He took a breath, looking down at their joined hands once again. "So you don't mind...?"
"Mind? Are you kidding? It's kind of liberating, actually, when you think about how many straight couples take gestures like this for granted. I'm glad you didn't even think twice about it." Kurt began to walk again, confident; Dave actually had to scramble to catch up. "Anyway, if we're going to have a proper probationary relationship, we need to do what we'd do if we actually were together. And holding hands? Most definitely part of it."
"Sounds good." Dave paused, a grin coming over his face that Kurt didn't like. "So, when you said we needed to do what we'd do if we were actually together...?"
Kurt laughed. "Except that! God!" He whacked Dave square in the chest with his free hand; the other winced in surprise. "Nice try, Mister, but we have a long ways to go before I'll even think about that!"
"Ehh, no hurry. You're worth waiting for." He continued on, that silly grin still on his face. Kurt was half-conscious of the stares they were still getting, but as far as he was concerned, they could all go to hell.
June 11
"No!" Rachel gasped.
"He teaches at NYADA?" Kurt asked, a hand brushing his chin in shock.
"One class a year," Gavroche said with a smile, sipping his latte. "Not only that, there's a core group of professionals who attend every performance there, including..."
Dave approached the table, coffee in hand. "Hey, guys. Still talking about NYADA?"
"That really happened?" Rachel's eyes grew as big as dinner plates.
"Hold me," Kurt said to her as he clutched her arm. "I think I'm going to faint."
"And that's not all!" Gavroche continued. "I hear that after the performance, they actually invited him to..."
"I guess so," Dave said, chuckling. "So if none of you mind, I'm gonna go back to the bookstore...?"
"Oh my God, oh my God..." Rachel seemed to have gone into some kind of catatonic state of bliss.
"Please tell me you're not making this up," Kurt begged. "I couldn't take it if you were."
Gavroche crossed his heart solemnly. "It's true, every word. When they met, the first thing Barbra said was, 'Kid, I think you've got a lot of talent...'"
Dave nodded, mostly to himself. "Yeah. So I'll be back in about half an hour." He waited for a brief second for an acknowledgment. As he predicted, none came. Shaking his head in bemusement, he walked off, leaving the other three teenagers to their discussion.
"Shut UP!"
"I swear! He got the script in front of the producers, who said..."
June 19
"Remember, Kurt, if I fuck this up all to hell, it's your fault."
"My fault?" Kurt repeated in mock outrage.
"Yeah. You were the one who insisted we do everything we'd usually do if we really were together. And you were dumb enough to trust me to plan our first 'date'." Kurt could hear the quote marks Dave put around the last word. He felt a little hurt, despite the fact that they'd both agreed, and insisted on, the point: this was all only probationary. They were free to stop at any time, and they were taking things slow. So why couldn't the rest of his brain get with the program?
Kurt soldiered on, question still unanswered. "Well, as you once said, I have very specific ideas of what a good date is like. But I don't have much of an idea of what yours are. I was curious."
Dave grinned lopsidedly. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats."
Kurt chuckled, shifting slightly in his seat. He took another glance out the window of Dave's car, trying to figure out where they were going. But no, his knowledge of Westerville was still too limited. He gave up, instead turning over the single rose in his hand. "It's lovely," he muttered, sniffing at it.
"Yeah, you are," Dave replied with a smile.
"Flatterer." Kurt almost hit him with the rose before catching himself. "You know, Dave, I never thought you were this type..."
"And what type is that?"
"The mushy romantic. I thought I was the only one left. I mean, sometimes I feel like Mercedes and I are the only two people in Glee Club who don't ride the dating merry-go-round for all it's worth."
Dave chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea how mushy I can be. My dad's the same way. Mom used to say that he could flip a switch: roaring drunk frat boy one minute and Casanova the next. I want to be like that myself; it's an underrated skill." He looked up. "Oh, here we are."
They pulled up to a familiar building. "Your house?" Kurt asked.
"Restaurants have you at their mercy. I don't like being at anyone's mercy. Plus, I'm cheap." Dave hopped out of the driver's seat and jogged to the other side, opening Kurt's door for him before he could. "Hope you're not one of those liberated types who thinks this is an insult," he said with a smirk. "I know you're a badass, stone cold SOB who doesn't need anyone coddling him."
"Damn right. I'll let it go this time." The two entered the Karofsky home. Kurt hadn't been there since the Warbler party, but even his limited exposure told him that things were very different this time: the curtains were pulled against the summer evening sun, the lights dimmed, the air smelled of flowers. They entered the dining room, and Kurt's jaw dropped. The table was set with glimmering silverware, actual china, a floral centerpiece bursting with a dizzying array of colors, a pair of candelabras (who owned those anymore?) standing by. Dave hurried forward, picked up a pilot lighter, and lit the candles; the room now flickered in a soft, cheerful glow. "Dave..." Kurt finally managed to spit out, "how...?"
Dave shrugged modestly. "My folks had a lot of this stuff packed away - never really used it." He pulled out a chair; Kurt dropped into it, as if dizzy. "Just a sec." He almost ran into the kitchen, and returned before Kurt could even take in anything more about his surroundings, carrying a pot and ladle. He spooned out the pot's contents into the bowl in front of Kurt before serving himself, sitting in the chair opposite his date. Kurt reflexively sniffed at the bowl; Dave snorted. "No, I'm not trying to poison you."
"No, no! I was just... Oh, hell." Kurt picked up a spoon (the soup spoon, on the outside where it should be) and dipped it into the bowl. One sip, and... His eyebrows rose. "Gazpacho," he said.
"Yeah. I figured it's hot enough outside as it is. Plus, no one has to babysit it on the stove or anything."
"You cooked all this?"
"You don't have to sound so surprised; I can read a cookbook. But my dad did help."
"Speaking of which... Where is your dad?"
"Out. For at least an hour. I made sure of that." He had his spoon in his mouth when his eyes widened; Kurt stifled a laugh. "Almost forgot!" He leaped to his feet and half-leaned into the living room. A moment later, soft violin music filled the room. Dave returned to his chair sheepishly. "Yeah, it's all fucking cliche, I know."
"Well," Kurt said softly, "some things are cliche because they work."
Dave beamed - there was no other word for it. It was as though his entire face was haloed by a Klieg light. "Cool." He took a sip of his soup. "After this, I got some salad, beef carpaccio, and ice cream for dessert. That I didn't make."
"Beef carpaccio... Isn't that raw meat?"
"Think of it like sushi," Dave chuckled, "only more manly." A moment of silence passed where only Vivaldi was heard. "So... how am I doing?"
"So far?" Kurt smiled. "Not bad." He returned his gaze to his soup as a silly, almost punch-drunk grin passed over Dave's face. "Not bad at all," he repeated under his breath.
June 24
"So, David..." Kurt began, trying to cram as much "casual" into his voice as possible, "where're you working this summer?"
Dave nearly choked on his pizza. "Oh, uh..." Finn cast a curious look at them for a moment before returning his eyes to his own rolled up slice.
Kurt sometimes wondered if he should just tell Dave the truth: that he knew about what Dave had done over the past several months to redeem himself, to make Ohio a better place for gay kids like them, to truly express those wonderful qualities of his that he used to deny existed. But no, not yet - that could put too much pressure on him, on their "probationary relationship." Better to take that slow (despite the fact, Kurt ruefully acknowledged, that he wasn't taking much else slow, so far).
Besides, getting these reactions from Dave and his friends still hadn't lost its fun.
"Well, my dad offered me a job at his office. Y'know, filing, answering phones, copying, shit like that." Dave shrugged.
"Ah." Kurt was far from a stupid person, and he knew Dave very well from their long association with each other. So it was very easy to notice that Dave only said that his father "offered" this job. He never said that he actually took it.
Another reason why he hadn't told Dave what he knew was that he was having a little too much fun with the spying. He realized at the same time that it really was kind of creepy, but still, something about the thrill of the chase was oddly exciting. In this case, the breakthrough came completely by accident; on one visit to Westerville, he forgot his cell phone at home, and asked to borrow Dave's. While trying to bring up Finn's cell number in the contact list (he was one of those who never bothered to - horrors - memorize phone numbers), his finger slipped, and the autocomplete suggested the number of "Ferrell Youth Center."
Kurt quickly erased the errant "e," but the name stuck with him. That night, he looked into Google. Yes, Ferrell Youth Center was a Westerville institution, whose website advertised "an inclusive, welcoming community for children, teenagers, and young adults of all races, creeds, religions, and sexual orientations." It was this last that particularly piqued his interest.
He sat on his new potential knowledge for about a week. Today, he decided, was the perfect day to finish his little investigation; after all, he knew Dave wouldn't be working (because at that moment, he was downstairs, with Finn, playing some post-pizza Team Fortress 2). The woman who answered was exactly the kind of person Kurt was hoping for: friendly, knowledgeable, and talkative.
"Oh, David! Of course I know him! He's been such a help here!"
"Yeah," Kurt said casually, "he told me about the program he's been participating in...?"
The prod worked better than he could've hoped. "Yes, the Gay Youth Mentor program! We're always so short of peer counselors - mostly because the demand isn't as high as with our more general programs - but the ones we have work so hard. David especially. He's so driven, I get concerned sometimes..."
"I see." There was a warm glow in Kurt's chest. "So what is it exactly he does? He wasn't really clear on that..."
"Well, there's the peer counseling, of course. But he's also been helping us organize activities and outreach, newsletters, classes... Some of his friends from Dalton Academy have been dropping by too, helping us out. I swear, in my eight years working here, I've never had so many volunteers! It's just so wonderful!"
"Yes. It is."
"I'm so sorry you didn't catch him while he was here. Did you want me to give him a message?"
"Oh, no, that's fine. In fact, please don't tell him I called. I want to surprise him."
"My lips are sealed. Oh, I have to go; you have a nice day, hon!"
"You too." Kurt turned off his phone and walked to the second floor landing. He looked down at the living room, where Dave and Finn were yelling and pounding at their controllers and jamming their elbows into each other's chests. He's still trying, Kurt thought. He's trying so hard to be a better person... He wondered if he would've ever thought of this "probationary relationship" business if he hadn't known this. Maybe. Maybe not.
He felt a little selfish, thinking that this was somehow all for him; thanks to his little espionage (though he still mostly blamed Santana for that), and Dave's still consistent refusal to spill the beans, he knew it wasn't. This was for himself, for others... yet Kurt couldn't help that little part of him that declared that everything that Dave was doing was all for the love of Kurt Hummel... and enjoyed it.
He shook his head, sighing. Oh, well; no one could be selfless all the time, right? Not even Dave. So maybe, deep down where he wouldn't admit it, this at least partially was for...
No. No. That way lay madness. For God's sake, let Dave do this at his own speed. Let him reveal all when he felt comfortable doing so. And for the love of all that's holy, stop thinking you're the center of Dave's universe!
Yet when he went downstairs and said hello, when he saw Dave's face as he looked up in greeting... Kurt couldn't help but think that, at least to Dave, he was.
July 4
Kurt wouldn't remember the food, when all was said and done (fried chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, and peach cobbler, all packed into a huge picnic basket by Carole in fit of old-fashioned domesticity).
He wouldn't remember who else was there (his father, Carole, Finn, and Rachel - who actually brought her own vegan-friendly fare, including a tofu casserole that was surprisingly good).
He wouldn't remember the conversation (the heat, the Reds, snarky comments directed at the guys nearby drunkenly chanting "USA!" at the top of their lungs - Kurt suggested counter-chanting "Afghanistan!" or something of that nature).
He wouldn't remember the fireworks themselves (besides the usual explosions and "weeping willows," Dave pointed out some of his favorite shapes: the cubes, the smiley faces, the ones that burst into a series of little comets flying every which way).
What he would remember, always remember, was lying on a blanket, the grass cool on his back, his head resting on the crook of Dave's shoulder, Dave's arm around him, watching the night sky light up with dazzling colors that played upon both their faces.
As far as he would remember, they were all alone: at the park, in Ohio, in the world.
July 15
"Would you like some more mashed potatoes, Dave?"
"Please! Thanks, Mrs. Hummel."
Burt couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle. "Dave, don't get me wrong - you're always welcome here - but between you and Finn, I might have to start raising prices at the shop to pay for all the food you two eat."
Dave's fork froze halfway between the plate and his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry..."
"Don't worry about it. I meant it; you're always welcome. I remember what it was like being a hungry teenager." He looked sorrowfully down at his plate of rabbit food and the compost hockey pucks that Kurt claimed "tasted just like meat." Like hell they did. "I wish I could eat like that again."
"Dad!" Kurt scolded. "You know what the doctor said! You need to stick to your diet!"
"Dr. Powell is practically a stick figure," Burt whined. "You can't tell me he actually knows what it's like to eat like a human being..."
"So, uh, Kurt..." Dave began, obviously trying to steer the topic away from food, even as he put down his fork. "How are you, Rachel, and Gav doing with the NYADA thing?"
Kurt's eyes lit up; Burt smiled. He loved seeing that enthusiasm, that love, in his son's eyes. There was a long time when he despaired of ever seeing it again. "Oh, it's going great! Rachel and I are already planning out our audition pieces! I'm assigned to researching Carmen Tibideaux to figure out what she'd like to hear..."
"Who?" Burt asked.
"The dean of NYADA. She has quite the impressive career. Anyway, Rachel's keeping an eye on blogs for plans our rivals may have..."
"I assume Gav's been tight-lipped?" Dave chuckled.
"Very. He's been sweet to us, but I understand; I haven't said anything to him about our plans either." Kurt stared at Dave for a moment. "I hate to make you choose between me and one of your friends, but..."
Dave held up his hands. "Don't worry, I am NOT getting involved. I am Swiss. I am neutral. I'd be safer getting between a shark and a bucketful of chum than interfering with you guys."
Burt smiled as he chewed his way through his baby spinach (thank God for low-fat ranch and successful begging of his own son). "Sounds like you guys are pretty busy with NYADA." Kurt nodded firmly in reply. "Hope you're keeping up with your applications to other schools."
Kurt blinked. "Other... schools...?"
The table fell silent. Finn had actually frozen halfway through drinking his milk; it was pooling over his upper lip, threatening to dribble out of the glass. Dave looked a little stricken on Kurt's behalf. Finally, Burt rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I'm glad I heard about this before I got too busy. Kurt, I've been trusting you to make your own decisions about your future, but I gotta tell you..."
"Dad, I have to get into NYADA," Kurt said with a note of pleading in his voice. "It's perfect for me. I have to focus on..."
"Focus, sure, but not like that. What if you don't get in?"
"I will! I have to!"
"But what if you don't? What good will it do your dreams to run out of options and have to stay in Lima?" There was no answer from Kurt to this. What answer was there? Burt sighed again. "Look, kid, I know this school's important to you. But it's not going to make or break your future. If you want this - and I know you do - you'll make it with or without NYADA. But you have to be prepared for whatever happens, and that means applying to other schools."
Kurt stared for a moment, as if absorbing the words. Burt could tell he was getting through, but there were still threads of resistance. Kurt turned towards his boyfriend (sort of boyfriend? Burt couldn't quite tell just what was going on there) with a hint of desperation. "Dave...?"
Dave shrugged. "Sorry, Kurt, I think your dad's right," he said with a tinge of misplaced shame in his voice. "'Course, that's probably because my own dad's been pounding the same thing into my head since last year."
"Kurt," Burt began gently, "I support whatever you want to do with your life. I want you to succeed, no matter what it is you succeed at. But that means putting in the work. And that means not boxing yourself into one plan. You gotta have options, Kurt. Don't put all your eggs in one basket. I know that you'll achieve everything you want to do, even if things don't work out exactly the way you want, as long as you let yourself look at the big picture. NYADA can be part of it, but it can't be all of it." He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Okay?"
After a long moment, Kurt nodded. "Okay," he replied hoarsely. "I guess... I can look into other colleges." He swallowed audibly. "But it feels like I'm setting myself up for a fall..."
"Dude, don't worry about it," Finn said cheerfully. "You'll kill your audition. And then we can all go down and see you on Broadway!"
Kurt smiled gratefully at him. For a moment, the meal continued, only the sound of clinking glass and silverware filling the room. "So, Dave..." Kurt looked up with an impish grin. "What colleges have you applied to?"
Dave paused. "Uh... A few places... NYU... Hofstra... Vassar..."
Kurt nearly cackled. "Aren't those schools in New York? Why, you'd think you were trying to follow someone up there!"
Dave turned beet red. "Hey, not all of my schools are in New York! I'm applying to U Mass, where my dad went, and Virginia Tech..."
"But they're still on the East Coast. Wasn't a single Midwest or West Coast school worth your time? You hypocrite!" Kurt's voice was not at all annoyed or angry - only laughing and triumphant. "Talk about boxing yourself into one plan! No wonder you have my best interests at heart!"
"Hey, I wanted to go to New York even before I met you. Besides... it's a big place," Dave said weakly. "I thought... it'd be easier for both of us with a friend around."
"Uh huh. Right." Kurt's voice was joking, but Burt could see it: the gleam in his eye, the blush on his cheeks. He liked Dave's determination, all right. "Oh, I'm just teasing, Dave. But I'm sure when it comes time to choose, you'll be perfectly objective and consider only what's best for you."
"You know it." Burt didn't know Dave as well as he knew his son, but that look on the kid's face... It was almost as though he wanted to say "being near you is what's best for me."
But what did he know? He was just a mechanic making his way through life as best he could.
"Vassar?" he heard Finn whisper. "Isn't that, like, a girl's school?"
"It's been coed for years, Finn," Dave growl-whispered back. "Just for that, you're going DOWN in TF2."
"In your dreams, dude."
Burt shook his head, smiling as he sipped at his beer.
August 13
Nobody on the road...
Nobody on the beach...
New Directions parties were usually barely controlled chaos, and this one was no exception. Rachel was in a corner seat blabbering about NYADA to a clearly bored Mercedes and a not-quite-following-the-conversation Brittany. Sam and Artie were arguing over whether the first or second X-Men movie was better. Mike and Tina were in their own little world, cooing and cuddling so much that even the romantically minded Kurt was a little nauseous. Santana was flitting from group to group, activity to activity, as if working off nervous energy. Lauren was unusually quiet, sipping at her drink and absorbing the goings-on around her, as if deep in thought.
I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun...
Kurt's attention was mostly drawn to one particular side of the room. Finn was quietly singing with Puck on guitar and guest Dave Karofsky on harmony, providing a pleasing background-level musical ambiance to the whole proceeding. Still, looking over the room, he could tell: New Directions was a close-knit group, much closer than ever before. This evening was just one of a series of gatherings that had taken place throughout the summer months; rarely did a week go by when they wouldn't all get together, and willingly. Even as individuals, they had changed. Artie, never really a shrinking violet, was even more confident. Santana was much more mellow (although Kurt had the feeling there was a lot more behind that than he knew; she seemed to be considering something important - what it was, she wouldn't say, as was typical for her). Puck was smiling, genuinely, a lot more often. And while he wasn't entirely sure, even Rachel seemed to be regarding her fellow Glee Club members in a new light; perhaps she was actually starting to see them even more as friends, and less as potential rivals and backup singers. Kurt hoped so.
I will never forget those nights... I wonder if it was a dream...
Either way, he knew exactly what had brought this about: the Bully Whips. Working together for a common cause, seeing the positive effect they were having on other people, earning respect and gratitude, expressing their inner badass selves... It had done them all a world of good, and all were eager to continue in the upcoming year.
Out on the road today, I saw a Black Flag sticker on a Cadillac...
Perhaps not all; that was the only shadow over the gathering. Quinn was conspicuously absent. She had attended all the parties and get-togethers at first, but had become more and more noticeably withdrawn with each one, until she stopped showing up altogether. Phone calls, e-mails, texts, and even the occasional home visit failed to turn up more than a glimpse of her, let alone an explanation. Puck was especially worried; it seemed that a history like the one he had with her, no matter how painful or ill-fated, was hard to ignore. When Kurt asked him about it earlier, he'd just muttered "nothin' yet." But there was promise in his eyes; there would be something. He'd make sure of that.
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong...
Gently cradling his cup of Diet Coke, Kurt got up from his seat and made his way to Dave, Finn, and Puck. Dave's smooth baritone wove around Finn's voice as the two finished up the final repetition of the chorus. He patted Dave on the shoulder, a prearranged signal between the two. Dave nodded and rose. "I'm gonna get some air, guys." He stepped out of the room.
Though Dave didn't see it, couldn't know it, his departure had a somewhat odd impact; every eye in the room turned to Rachel. Then slowly, one by one, the others began to step out, one or two at a time, as if on a schedule. Rachel was surprisingly oblivious to this, so deep was she in her paean to NYADA. "I've looked up the campus on the Internet, and God, it's beautiful! I can just imagine myself in the fall, when the leaves are turning brown, walking to class..."
Finn was on his feet, uncomfortable. "Kurt, are you sure...?"
"I think this is something we have to talk about," Kurt whispered back. "As friends. If we let this go, it'll just fester. You know that." In his mind, he breathed a prayer of thanks to powers he didn't believe in for the Bully Whips. If it weren't for that, he'd be afraid that what he, what they, were about to do would tear the Glee Club apart. But with the bonds the group had made over the past few months, there was a chance...
"Yeah, but... I dunno if I should be here. I don't want to look like I'm..." His breath caught in his throat. "At the same time, if I leave, maybe she'll think I'm abandoning her..."
"It's up to you, Finn." He didn't wait for his stepbrother to make a decision. Kurt approached Rachel, whose topic of conversation (monologue?) had, appropriately enough, turned towards the upcoming year's Glee Club schedule.
"... already decided what I'm going to do for my first solos. Got to keep up my training if I want to get into NYADA... Oh, Kurt, come join us! I was just talking about my suggestions for Sectionals, and what I could..." When Mercedes and Brittany rose as one and left, she blinked, startled. It was only then that she looked about her at the oddly empty and quiet room. "Kurt...?" Her eyes were searching, probably for Finn. Kurt gently knelt in front of his friend and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Rach... We need to talk."
August 19
"So have you heard from her yet?" Dave was sprawled across the Hudson-Hummels' front porch, sipping at a glass of lemonade. The glass was covered in condensation, cold and clammy in his hand.
Kurt shook his head. "Not yet. Finn's been calling her every day. She only answers him half the time. When she does, she refuses to talk about it. But... I think it went well. Better than I thought it would. I'd like to think she's actually thinking about what I said..." He sighed. "I'm still not sure it was the right thing to do. I mean, I agree with the others, but..."
"But she's still a friend."
"Yeah. I think we'll get through this. It's certainly a lot more likely than if we just held things back until it turned into a screaming match. But..."
"Gotta rip off the Band-Aid, huh?"
"In a manner of speaking." Kurt fell silent for a long moment. He felt, rather than saw, Dave scoot closer to where he was sitting. He definitely felt the warmth and weight of Dave's arm over his shoulder.
"Hey, how's Blaine doing?"
Kurt couldn't help but grin. No longer was he "Anderson" to Dave, spoken with a sneer and a dark look. "Last I heard from him, he's fine. He'll be back from Europe in a couple of weeks. I'll find him the first day of school to discuss the GSA. We've already gotten a lot rolling, but there's really nothing that can replace a face-to-face meeting..."
"Sounds like you have a lot planned."
"I do. This is going to be a busy and interesting year." Kurt nudged Dave in the side. "What about you? Think you can lead the Warblers to victory this year?"
Dave shrugged. "I have plans of my own..." Kurt waited for him to continue, but he didn't.
"So..." Kurt drank from his own glass of lemonade, thoughtfully provided by Carole. "The summer's almost over."
"Yep."
"So about our 'probationary' relationship..."
Kurt could almost see Dave's ears perk. "Yes...?"
"I think... I think it's gone pretty well so far."
"You're just saying that because I pay for your water park tickets." The joke was weak, told weakly, and they both knew it. There was too much here for levity.
"That's just one reason. I think... I think we've made a lot of progress. I think you've made a lot of progress."
"Thanks." Dave took a deep swig of his lemonade, as if trying to find something stronger at the bottom of the glass to steady his nerves. "So does that mean...?"
"We're off probation? I... I don't know. There's just too much going on right now to think properly. I feel like I'm being pulled in a dozen different directions..."
"Then the answer is no," Dave said firmly. "I don't want to be any more of a complication to you than I have to. I'm sick of doing that." He licked his lips, then continued. "Just... don't worry about me. I'm your friend. I'll be here, no matter what. Concentrate on yourself. Then we can talk about us."
"Thanks." Kurt leaned his head against Dave's shoulder, staring up at the cloud-streaked sky. "This is nice, though."
"Yeah."
"This isn't so bad."
"Nope."
And so the summer passed...
Kurt nodded, both to the camera and himself. "Now," he said to Jacob, "if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do." He strode away, ignoring Jacob yelling after him. He'd find someone else to pester soon enough anyway.
As he approached the front doors of McKinley, he saw Artie and Finn waiting for him, each with that grin on his face. It was a suspicious smile that Kurt had seen quite a bit of in his household of late: goofy, sly, and always directed at him for some reason. When asked, Finn's response was always an overly and unbelievably innocent "I just remembered a good joke" or "what're you talking about? I'm not smiling at anything." After a while, Kurt had just given up, assuming it was just Finn being Finn. But seeing that same grin now on Artie... His suspicions deepened.
"Hey, Kurt," Finn said with a cheery wave.
"Hello..." he replied slowly. "Artie." He nodded towards his fellow Glee Club member, who was looking like he was just barely able to keep himself contained.
"Hey, Kurt," Artie said. "As Bully Whips coordinator, I wanted to be on hand to make sure you met your first escort of the year."
"Look, guys, I appreciate what you've been doing, but I don't think I need an escort anymore. Just treat me like anyone else, and..."
"Oh, no," Finn interrupted, his toothy grin growing even wider. "You want an escort."
"Oooookay... I'm just going to go in now, and you can tell whoever's escorting me that he or she can just find someone who really needs to..."
"No, wait!" Finn's desperate insistence brought him up short. "Just... wait a second, okay?"
Kurt huffed. "All right, what's going on? You two are acting like you're sneaking around behind my back, and I'm not sure I like it! Either you tell me what you're planning right now, or I'm going to..."
"He's here!" Finn cried, seemingly appropos of nothing.
"Kurt..." Artie said with a flourish, pointing behind Kurt. "Your escort." Kurt turned. A teenager in sunglasses and a black designer suit was approaching him, with a grin similar to those worn by Finn and Artie. That fact alone was not a surprise. But the who of it was... "Our newest Bully Whip," Artie continued with a sly smile. "Treat him right, okay?"
Kurt gaped. "D-Dave...?"
AN: And we're off! This may go quite a bit slower than the previous installment, since I'm still getting back into the groove and working out some of the details of how I want all these doggone plotlines to go.
As for the conversation between Kurt and Rachel, I'll return to it and revise if it turns out my instincts are wrong. But given the different circumstances from canon, I can't help but believe that it's an issue that would be put on the table directly, and before the school year begins. It'll be explained fully as time passes.
Now, according to my plotting, there's one character in particular who's a major impetus for change in this 'fic, one that I think/hope is in character based on existing canon. Despite what you may think, it is not Dave (although he did start the factor that led to this character becoming the impetus for change). You'll find out who in the next chapter...
