Hi! This is actually my first fanfic. I love Kurtofsky and in this one there is no Blaine. I love Blaine when I saw a few episodes, but now I'm not the biggest fan. Maybe I'll get back into him, but right now there is no Klaine, that's a whole mess I DO not want to get into . So if you have any suggestion, question, or comment, lemme know! I'm a pretty screwed up insomniac so expect weird updates. I'm hoping to get the first few chapters up in the next couple days. However I don't make any promises.
Warning: MxM, mentions of suicide/self-inflicted pain, some violence, profanity, some grammar and spelling mistakes. Also I'm from the USA so my English is going to be different than you darling British and Australians and such. I apologize for any confusion ahead of time!
I don't own glee, but I wouldn't mind a Kurtofsky pillow one day 3
A Broken Rope
Sweet Prada,Kurt thought as he stared at the ashen form of Dave Karofsky staring blankly into the final dredges of the sunset. The larger boy still had his hospital wrist band on, and looked like all kinds of hell. Obviously hearing Kurt's approaching footsteps Dave's head turned and Kurt froze midstep. Dave's eyes hadn't been empty, but he was obviously not trying to feel anything.
"Hello Fancy," Karofsky, Dave now, Kurt thought, said. He attempted a small smile, and Kurt felt his stomach bottom out and his eyes fill again.
"You've scared us absolutely silly sneaking out of the hospital. You were getting checked out in an hour, couldn't you have waited?" Kurt said brokenly. The whole hospital was in a panic, both of their fathers were currently running around searching for him and Kurt found the other boy sitting on a park bench three blocks away staring out into the horizon looking apprehensive and lost. Reaching the other boy in three sharp steps he gripped his shoulders, forced him to fully face him, and shook Dave back and forth. "Why the hell did you go out here, and why didn't you tell us?"
"I wanted to confirm that I lived another day." Dave said simply. His large, calloused hands gently gripped Kurt's and removed them from his shoulders. His smile was rather absent, as he said, "the drugs keep me rather loopy. I can't always tell if its night or day. There isn't a clock in room, since they're afraid it'll trigger something, and I don't have a watch or my cellphone. I didn't want someone else with me for the first time." Kurt's fists loosened, but he didn't let go.
"Why couldn't you look out your window?" Kurt demanded.
"I didn't want to see the bars." Dave said pulling Kurt's hands off. He simply held them in one hand and petted them with the other. He seemed distracted by this, and it allowed Kurt time to marshal his thoughts. He had said...
"Bars?" Kurt nearly screeched. What the hell did he mean by bars, Kurt thought.
"The policy at this hospital is to put all suicidal patients in a room that is constantly supervised and has bars over the windows to prevent patients attempting to jump." Dave said releasing Kurt's hands in favor for standing and moving around Kurt to simply return to staring at the sunset. Kurt felt his stomach squeeze painfully. He didn't like the contemplation of Dave's death or the quiet, friendly overtones Dave spoke of it.Studying the other boy's set figure he silently pulled out his phone and texted his father and then Dave's. Putting the phone on vibrate, he tucked it away and went to stand next to Dave. They stared at the sunset together. After a few moments Kurt repeated what he'd said a few days earlier, "imagine what'll be like in ten years. Just keep thinking about that." Silently Dave took Kurt's hand as sobs broke through, and Kurt held Dave when he collapsed to the ground. As the darkness finally started to set in Kurt Hummel vowed to be there every single step of the recovery process and stay friends with this broken boy no matter what happened, or what stupid people said. He was the Gay Ice Bitch Prom Queen after all. He had to look after his king.
Dave sat on his parent's living room couch staring blankly at the wall. He could hear his father arguing with his mother in another room.
"He doesn't need a damn doctor to cure his fucking sexuality!" He heard his father say.
"Yes he does! He would never have attempted to commit suicide if he had! He'll end up in hell for either of those sins unless he REPENTS and gets help Paul!" His mother cried back. Picking up his bedroom pillow he covered his face and tried to drown out the misery that was suffocating this hell of a home.
"Fuck you, you stupid woman!" His father snarled. "He's not fucking going to a damn doctor who will try to fix what doesn't need to be fixed. He's gay. He was born that way. He'll stay that way. What he needs right now is support, love, and fucking guidance. So he doesn't end up..." His father's voice broke at that. Sighing into the pillow, Dave threw it aside. Dragging himself up, he walked down the hall, passed his parents who didn't see him, and out the front door letting it slam shut. Settling on the front porch swing, he pushed himself back and forth on it, staring out at the cookie cutter houses, the manicure green lawns, and the shiny suburban soccer mom cars. Why the hell am I even here? He wondered. Shouldn't I be attending some fashion show, or something gayish like that? Admittedly he didn't understand fashion past white and colors don't go together in the washer, and if it's comfortable, wear it. Rubbing his neck absently, his throat suddenly seized and he was suddenly back in his room kicking the chair away letting the noose tighten and choke away all his air. Squeezing his eyes shut, he smacked his forehead a few times, and then scrubbed his eyes with his fists.
No no no no no no no nooooo... He wasn't going back there. He'd promised himself, he'd promised his parents, hell he'd promised the only person he'd ever come out to. Pausing at the thought of Kurt he almost jumped when he felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. Pulling it out he almost cried at the message. It was a new number and phone, and only four people knew it, his parents, his psychologist and Kurt.
Hey, how you holding up?-K. Dave stared at that message, his fingers rubbing over the message screen tiredly. He wasn't holding up, he was stuffing things into boxes in his minds and trying to fucking no walk back into that closet or pulling out that bottle of pills he'd been saving for months, for years.
I'm not dead. Let's say its been a good day and call it quits before I end up going insane.- Dave He replied stiffly after ten minutes of typing and retyping. The phone buzzed almost immediately after he hit send.
Tell me what I can do so you actually feel better.-K. Dave read the seriousness. The compassion. He just stared at it. Deciding he didn't want to respond he locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. Thirty minutes later it rang. Glancing at the screen he saw Kurt's name flash and he hit ignore. He stuffed it back in. Two seconds later it rang again. He hit ignore again. This continued for the next thirty minutes. Giving up, Dave finally hit the green answer button and said quite angrily into the phone,
"WHAT HUMMEL?"
"Tell me if I can help Dave," Kurt said softly. Scrubbing his face, Dave tried to ignore the flood of warmth. Get over yourself Dave, he thought, Kurt's only talking to you because he feels guilty about you trying to off yourself and him not picking up when you wanted to tell him good bye and sorry again.
"That's just it Hummel, there's no fucking way to fucking help." Dave growled into the phone. He stood up and paced back and forth. Studying the sturdy wood beneath his feet he almost missed what Kurt said next.
"Do you want me to come over? I don't know... Watch the sunset or whatever?" Kurt asked. He was obviously referencing back to what Dave had run off to do last week when he'd been released from the hospital. Every day since then Dave had lived in a semi-emotionless hell except for at sunset where he cried, surprised and oddly grateful that he'd made it through another day. He slept on the couch because being in his room caused him to scream uncontrollably. He spent days drinking only water or broth since his throat hurt too much and he didn't feel motivated to eat anyway. He didn't watch television, he didn't go on the internet, he didn't do jack shit. Scrubbing his face he looked back at his house. He didn't want to be here. No matter how much he wanted to comfort his parents, he really didn't have the energy or motivation to deal with all their emotions as well. He couldn't fucking cope with his parents fucking feelings, he just fucking couldn't.
"I'd rather you picked me up and then drop me off at a park where I could just escape for a few fucking hours." Dave said slowly, the words almost painfully coming out. "I can't stand being in this house any longer. It feels like it's suffocating me. I don't want to deal with all the emotions, the arguments, the decisions that should be fucking mine but that I don't care about." Dave's voice broke at the end. "I don't feel anything Kurt, what the hell is wrong with me. Did I kill my soul and my body is just stuck waiting for me to die? What the fucking hell do I do?" He started crying, he curled up into a ball at the far corner of the porch, out of sight of the big picture windows looking into the living room and dinning room. He didn't want his parents to see, actually he didn't fucking know what he wanted, but he didn't want them to do anything. He heard Kurt's soft breaths, then he heard him say.
"Tell your parents you're going out for the night. You can crash at my place. I'll ask my dad. Okay Dave?" Dave started sobbing harder. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Ju-just wait for me, okay Dave?" Sobbing all the harder Dave barely made out the assent. Twenty minutes later Dave had a bag packed up and his mother was trying to force him to stay in the house.
"Dave you cannot go over there! You'll just be reinforcing the gay lifestyle. You have to stay here and let me call the doctor to fix you." His mother tried to stop him. His father was merely standing silently, watching the whole debacle his mouth pinched and unhappy.
"Mom, let me go." Dave said quietly. Both parents froze. This was the first coherent sentence Dave had spoken to them in the last week. Most of the time he just say or laid there blankly and tired. "I'm not gay because I chose to be. I would never chose to be gay with all the stuff I like. Let me go."
"No Dave," his mother continued weakly, "you're just confused, you just need to talk to this man-"
"For goodness sakes, Marian," his father finally broke in. "How many damn times do I have to tell you? Being homosexual is a product of physical chemistry in the brain. God made it so he'd be this way. Why God decided Dave should have this trial is between Dave and God, so you need to fucking let the boy go for today. You also need to shut the hell up about that phony doctor. Dave isn't going to get better with your narrow-minded bullshit!" The last few sentences were yells accompanied by his father prying his mother off of him and him shaking her hard. Her body went limp, and she collapsed into Dave's father, weakly clutching at his shirt. Dave and his father exchanged a look, a sharp nod accompanied by two equally sad faces. His father didn't want him to go, but both Dave and his mother were at their breaking points. Some distance would let them feel better. Dave's father had talked to Kurt's and they agreed to let Dave stay a couple nights. Walking out the door Dave went to the edge of the drive and climbed into the waiting passenger seat of Kurt's Navigator. Buckling in after he shoved his bags into the back Kurt puts the car in drive and they leave Dave's definition of hell on Earth. Dropping his head into his hands he let out a tired, relieved sigh. That went a hell of a lot fucking easier than I thought it would, he thought.
"So..." Kurt started, making Dave's head snap up. "Do you want to go directly back to my place or... Hit the park for some sunset watching?" Dave glanced at the radio clock, it was barely three o'clock and at this time of year sunset was several hours off. Shaking his head Dave tried to figure out what the hell to do.
"It's the weekend right?" Dave asked. Kurt nodded. "Then can we go to the high school. I kinda just want to sit in the bleachers and stare blankly out at the woods. You can drop me off if you have shit to do. I just... I just need time to space out. Go somewhere there's no one trying to fix me." Kurt flushes at this.
"Uh..." He starts out. Dave snorts humorlessly.
"I know you want to help me Kurt, but the difference is you want me to fix myself, while everyone else in the damn world thinks they can find someone to do it for me or do it themselves." Kurt looks startled at this observation and Dave actually laughs, a rusty sound that's almost mocking itself for existing. "You're the only one who's told me to look forward. The doctors, the teachers, my fucking parents... They all want to focus on now, or who's to blame, or, hell, what's already over with. You're the only one who talked me into thinking I might actually have something after all of this is over." Dave silent for a few minutes trying to summarize all the emotions that had brought forth, all the relief and such. He wiped his eyes with the edge of his thin, long sleeved shirt.
"You fucking gave me my future and my hope."
"You fucking gave me my future and my hope." Is still ringing in Kurt's brain, ears, and heart thirty minutes later. They'd pulled up to the high school and driven around back to the soccer bleachers. They were far from any houses or people. Something that would have made Kurt nervous around his former bully. Yet with broken Dave it seemed almost inevitable. Sitting under the bleachers, an older blanket spread out, Dave was dead asleep. Exhaustion, pain, and depression finally accumulating in a cocktail of bleak sleep. His face looked more relaxed, but lines of worry and pain were still etched around his mouth, eyes, and nose. Opening up his laptop Kurt was glad he had the foresight to bring it. With a battery life of six hours Kurt figured he could do college applications, essays, and Facebook without having to wake up Dave.
Opening his internet his Facebook homepage popped up. Checking his message and notification he opens his college applications and FAFSA just to check that everything is clear and done. Frowning at a few discrepancies and changes he click and starts working. After getting started on an essay for English he hears Dave cry out. Shutting the top down he quickly puts it aside and turns to Dave. The other boy is curled up in a fetal position, his face dead white, and eyes wildly searching without being able to stop and focus.
"Dave!" Kurt says shaking the other boy gently. "Dave it's okay!" The other boy is lost, trapped in his mind, trapped in a loop of his noose. Scrabbling at his neck the boy vainly attempts to pull of metaphysical nightmare. Kurt shakes him harder, he tries slapping the boy's arms, shoving at his check, yelling. Nothing works. Nearly out of his mind with worry, Kurt finally acts on complete impulse and kisses Dave hard on the mouth.
