We All Fall Down Sometimes
Summary: It just takes a well-placed thermos of alcohol for Kurt to let go completely.
Notes: Well, it's my first Glee fanfiction :). What can I say, I watched an episode on a plane coming home from Newfoundland, and I was hooked ;). Later on while I was watching 'The Rhodes Not Taken' all I could think was 'well, what happened after Kurt puked all over Emma?' And so, this fanfic was born :P. Hope you enjoy, and I really do hope I kept the characters, well, in character! And so, without further ado, I presend to you We All Fall Down Sometimes.
Disclaimer: Even if it would be amazing, I don't own Glee.
Chapter 1:
Mercedes was having a good day. Actually, it was better than a good day – it was a damn good day. She'd managed to make it to school car-accident-free, been able to avoid all slushies thrown at her, and had just seen Rachel getting a royal bitching-out from Sandy about the musical. Nothing like seeing miss Too-Good-For-Glee get what was coming to her.
Plus, the compliments she was getting on her new necklace (courtesy of April) didn't exactly dampen the mood, either.
In fact, Mercedes didn't even register that something serious was up when Kurt shuffled past her, mumbling something about Disney movies. After all, she thought as she waved an absent-minded goodbye, who ever knew exactly what was going on in that boy's head, anyways? Not her, or anyone else for that matter.
Still, Mercedes couldn't get Kurt out of her head all morning. He'd looked so out of it, like he was sick, but not. Sure enough, when she looked up to see Mr. Schuester making a B-line towards where she was standing at her locker after second period, Mercedes couldn't help feeling a quick twinge of dread.
"What's up, Mr. Shu?" she asked as he came to a halt in front of her. After a quick one-over, Mercedes decided that he looked nervous. His hair, usually gelled to perfection, was slightly out of place, and his tie was crooked, subtle indicators that any Glee kid knew to take as a warning sigh. Looking down at her, he shifted anxiously from one foot to the other.
"Mercedes, it's about Kurt," the minute the words tumbled out of his mouth, Mercedes slammed her locker door, effectively cutting him off.
"Mr. Shu, you better be about to tell me what is up with my man. I saw him earlier, and he was straight tripping! Is he ok?" she asked, hardening her stance and staring the Spanish teacher down. Mr Schuester, on the other hand, only sighed.
"Don't worry Mercedes, he's fine. Just in Emma – I mean, Miss Pillsbury's – office...drunk," he tried in vain to placate her, knowing it was a wasted effort. When it came to Kurt, Mercedes took no prisoners. Sure enough, the diva was gone before he could finish his sentence.
With a sigh Will turned towards the locker, resting his forehead against the cool metal. Emma had warned him that she thought it was April. He couldn't lie that the thermos Emma had found in Kurt's bag – after coming back from the ER, that is – looked exactly like April's. Still, he thought, April wouldn't do something like that. She wouldn't try to win Kurt over with alcohol, that wasn't like her at all.
Right?
Kurt felt like he was in hell. Literally. His sweater must have suddenly become a much heavier weave than it had when he'd put it on that morning, because Kurt was fairly sure if he kept it on any longer he'd be reduced to nothing more than a fashion-conscious pile of goo.
Then again, he thought as he shrugged it off, slouching farther into the corner he was curled up in, perhaps taking it off was for the best. Now that he had the chance to look himself over Kurt wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to match his outfit. It looked like something Mr. Shu would wear – completely unfashionable!
Then again, with his blurry vision, pounding headache and roiling insides, fashion was – for the first time he could remember – at the bottom of Kurt's list of concerns.
With a low groan Kurt felt the now-familiar burning rising in his throat quickly, and he barely had time to think before pulling the trash can next to him down so he could vomit...again. With his head so far down the garbage, Kurt didn't hear the pounding footsteps drawing closer to the guidance councillor's office, or the loud voice accompanying them.
He did notice the slam as the door was thrown open, though. Wincing as the sound reverberated around his skull, Kurt looked up to the sigh of a slightly blurry Mercedes storming towards him. Behind her he recognized the unmistakable figure of Miss. Pillsbury teetering awkwardly, eyes wide and darting around nervously.
If he hadn't been so drunk, Kurt might have noticed that she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Kurt, baby, what happened to you? You look terrible, and you never look any worse than fabulous!" Mercedes exclaimed – still much too loudly, his brain told him angrily – bending down and smoothing his hair out of his face before resting her hand on his cheek. Swallowing down any remaining vomit, Kurt looked down at the floor. He couldn't help but lean into her hand – it was so nice and cool on his burning skin, and so soft, too...
"Kurt, look at me," hearing the tone of her voice – the one she only used when she was worried and didn't want to show it – Kurt tried to look up, meet her eyes. Show her he was fine, just a little loopy from whatever was in that thermos. But her hand was so nice on his hot skin, he couldn't concentrate on anything else. Even his stomach and headache were starting to quieten down. Before long, the only thing in his mind was that hand on his face.
It was so nice, he couldn't help but let his eyes close...
"Come on Kurt, you're scaring me. Look up!" looking down at her best friend, Mercedes could feel the panic rising in her throat like acid. Here was Kurt – the strong one of the two, the one she could always lean on whenever she had a problem, her rock – slumped in a corner, right in the middle of she could tell as being out-of-his-mind drunk.
His eyes were dropping fast, and Mercedes could feel the pressure on her hand as Kurt started to drop forwards. Without thinking she leaned forwards, letting her friend fall onto her, head falling onto her shoulder. This really was terrible, Mercedes couldn't help but think as she adjusted Kurt so that he'd be near the garbage can if he needed to throw up. If she ever figured out who gave him alcohol...
"'Cedes, I gotta ask you something," hearing the quiet mumble, Mercedes couldn't help the way her eyes started to sting. He sounded so vulnerable, none of the usual confident armour he usually wore in place.
"Anything in the world baby, ask away," she mumbled back, vaguely aware of Miss Pillsbury babbling something about calling parents. Right now, what mattered was Kurt.
"Where'd you get that necklace? It's fabulous," he flew away from her shoulder – almost hitting his head on the wall behind him – before letting out a loud, belting laugh that would suit anyone else but him. Mercedes couldn't help but feel shocked, not to mention a little wary. Drunk people usually got manic before something really bad happened...
"Oh, uh, April. She helped me get it," she told him hesitantly, feeling a slight pang of guilt. Mercedes didn't want to admit to Kurt she'd stolen it, but she couldn't lie about how she'd gotten it. Hey, the half-truth wouldn't hurt anyone, especially when that someone probably wouldn't remember anything in a couple of hours.
At the name 'April' Kurt's eyes suddenly darkened. Leaning forwards, he grabbed Mercedes by the shoulders, and she couldn't help but flinch. Kurt was moody at the best of times, but this, this was almost bipolar. Plus, his fingers were sharp, and digging into her painfully.
"She's the one who gave me that thermos. And those magazines... they make me feel so dirty 'Cedes, so dirty!" And just like that Kurt was sobbing, loud drunk tears, the sort you heard from guys in bars at 3 in the morning, escaping from a loveless marriage and a screaming kid. Wide eyed, Mercedes held him closer to her, rubbing his back as soothingly as she could.
"Oh Kurt, you aren't dirty at all. You're an amazing person who shouldn't be ashamed to be who they are," she told him quickly, wrapping her arms around him as if they could hold Kurt together if she squeezed tightly enough. Hearing all his defences crumble, even if it was from the alcohol, felt like a knife slowly being twisted into her heart. Other people's pain usually didn't affect her so much, but this was a special case.
This was Kurt, who Mercedes would gladly take a bullet for.
"I am dirty 'Cedes, everyone tells me so, every day! My dad's gotta be so ashamed to have me as a son...," wide eyed, Mercedes could only pat Kurt's shaking back. She had known for a long time that Kurt was still (even if he tried so hard to hide it) ashamed to be gay. It was hard to hide, when they could read each other so easily. Still, Mercedes hoped that the alcohol in his system was making things seem worse than they were.
Letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding Mercedes squared her shoulders, and decided she needed to snap Kurt out of it, before he said something he'd regret.
"Hell to the no, Kurt! You are the best damn person I know, and anyone who thinks you're less than amazing needs a serious reality check. And your dad loves you just the way you are, you know that," she told him, pushing him back gently to look in his eyes. This time, Kurt didn't look away, only stared back with still watering eyes.
"Mercedes, you're amazing. Really amazing," was all Kurt managed to squeeze out of his tight throat, before his eyes closed and he flopped forwards, landing with a light snore on her shoulder. With a light sigh, Mercedes nodded into his hair.
"Damn straight," she muttered, before gathering Kurt into her lap, turning so that she could lean comfortably against the wall. Most days Kurt was the strong one between them, with Mercedes spilling her insecurities to him. It was always Kurt who said the words she needed to hear, linking their arms and walking off as if neither of them had any problems. You didn't have problems when you were on top of the world, after all.
Shaking her head slightly Mercedes shifted herself to get comfortable, lowering Kurt's sleeping form into her lap. Everyone fell down sometimes, and she knew well enough that it helped to have someone else around when it happened, to help pick you back up again. Looking down at her sleeping friend, mouth hanging open slightly, a thin line of drool already coming out of his mouth, Mercedes decided Kurt needed to relax more. That way, he'd be able to fall healthily, without a thermos full of alcohol forcing it out.
Speaking of thermoses, Mercedes thought, she'd need to catch up with April later, show her that messing with Kurt was about the last thing she wanted to do, unless she wanted Mercedes Jones on her tail.
Still, revenge could wait until Kurt's dad came to pick him up.
Well, that's the end! Hopefully it's alright ;). I'm not quite sure wether I should leave this as a one-shot, or add on another chapter I had in mind - with *cue dramatic music* Kurt and his dad. Well, you'll all have to tell me what you prefer, when you review!
Hopefully I'll be writing more Glee soon,
StarsAndSparks44