~VioletCherry342~
Day 3: Kurtofsky as Kids
The room held an air of awkward, once you dug past the fog of pity and misery. At eight, David Karofsky hadn't been to many funerals. His grandfathers, and his cousins. That was it. His grandfather, he was three. And for his cousin, he was 5 and a half. He wasn't really sure how to act at these things; he wasn't even surrounded by family this time.
No, he was there because Elizabeth Hummel was in his moms book club.
Or...well, she had been.
All David knew was that he had never seen Kurt Hummel look so upset.
And believe you me, David knew Kurt's face pretty well.
He knew it from the boy yelling words David didn't understand at that age, because when Dave was being "malicious" and "coarse", Kurt liked to scream. It's not like David was as terrible as the other boys- he never called Kurt a "girl" and he never threw things he knew would hurt too badly; like rocks and stuff. He hadn't reached that stage, and he didn't want to.
He'd never seen Kurt sit, quietly, staring at the floor, his hands folded in his lap and his brows drawn in so tight little lines creased his forehead. Slouched over and with shimmering eyelashes, his lips pressed in a tight line. He didn't speak once - not once. This was Kurt Hummel; he couldn't go ten minutes without inputting his opinion in some way. David kept stealing glances at the other boy, hoping, just hoping, he might catch his lips move just once.
He doesn't.
It appeared he wasn't the only one who was gunning for Kurt to speak. During his little looks, David would catch Burt leaning over a lot, asking something, and Kurt would either nod or shake his head, sometimes glance at the coffin in the room before looking at the floor again. Burt would nod and offer Kurt his hand, which Kurt would take swiftly, and then it was over.
"Come on, Dave," His mom said suddenly, waving for Paul and him to follow. Paul shook his head and clapped his hand on David's back as they, indeed, followed her to wherever she was wandering.
...3...
It's not that Kurt didn't want to talk.
Really. He wanted to talk. He wanted to ask so many questions. He wanted to ask why. And he wanted to ask what he did wrong. He wanted to ask if he had been better, quieter, anything, if his mom would've stayed. He wanted to ask if it was him, or if it was Daddy, or if it was something else entirely. He wanted to ask what he had to do to make her come back, because he didn't want her to be gone forever.
But he didn't want to ask his dad these things. Daddy looked so sad, now. And Kurt had come in on him crying more than once in the past few days, and he let his dad scoop him up and squeeze him and hug him, and Kurt would bury his face in Burt's shirt and cry along with him, sometimes, just because he didn't know what else to do. Daddy was hurt and Mommy was gone and he couldn't do anything about it.
He noticed Dad was about to lean down and try to pry words from Kurt's dry and closed throat again, but he stopped when a females voice (not his moms...never his moms...) said, "Mr. Hummel," and he was forced into an uncomfortable looking hug. Kurt found himself looking at her shoes - black, with red soles, which Kurt didn't find appropriate - too tired to look up and see who it was. He barely noticed that his dad never let go of his hand, in fact, the grip got tighter, but he was relieved for it.
"I'm so very sorry about Eliza," She said. Another thing Kurt was silently realizing was that his mother had many names. Eliza, Bethy, Elizabeth, Z-Z...and then, his dads name for her; Lizzy. His mothers name was Lizzy. Not what these others were saying. "It's such a tragedy. And Kurt, you must be devastated."
'Devastated is just a big word grown-ups use for "sad",' He remembered his mom teaching him. 'It makes us sound smarter than we really are.'
Kurt's eyes fluttered up to the dark haired woman for a moment before he took a side step further behind Burt's leg, squeezing the hand still in his grasp as if he were begging, 'Please don't make me talk to her...'
"Kurt's having a hard time," Burt said, squeezing Kurt's hand back as if to reply, 'Of course'.
"He might need therapy," The woman said matter-of-factly.
Burt grunted. "He isn't in a talking mood, I didn't say he couldn't hear."
"Oh, he-"
"Kristen," Paul said, a warning dancing in his eyes. She huffed and shook her head, looking down at Kurt, and suddenly her words became slower, as if Kurt were mentally handicapped and she'd never spoken to someone who was.
"God. Took. Your. Mommy. To. A. Better. Place," She said, her voice ringing throughout the room like an incredibly irritating bell.
"We try not to shove God down his throat, okay?" Burt spat suddenly, pulling Kurt farther behind him. He glanced up, not sure why his dad was getting mad, and noticed then. David. He hadn't seen him before, but he was just staring at Kurt like he thought something terrible would happen if he didn't. Kurt felt his head tilting a little, the crease in his brow gentling as they shot up in curiosity. He knew who David was - not many kids forget someone who typically shoved them off the swings every day - but he'd never seen that look on his face. This look of interest and worry and searching and Kurt almost was able to find a word, or two, "Are you okay?" but he couldn't...His lips parted slightly, but his lungs wouldn't allow it, so he just gave a tiny smile that didn't reach his eyes and looked back at the floor.
"That is exposing him to Satanic things," Kristen spat with disdain laced in the words. "What if he turned out to be..." She scowled down at Kurt and waved her hand. "...you know."
Burt glared. "No, no I don't think I know what you mean. But you know, I don't think I care, either."
David shrunk back a little at the tone Burt used, and Kurt tugged at his hand, trying to distract him. He hated it when Daddy got upset...
Burt paused, looking down at Kurt as if remembered his seven-year-old son was in the room still and he slipped down to his knee and mumbled, "You okay?"
Kurt shook his head this time. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't, his throat constricting. Burt's eyes softened more, obviously seeing something Kurt didn't know was there, and he just nodded. "C'mere."
Kurt hugged his arms around Daddy's neck and hid his face in his shoulder as Burt picked him up, ignored the life out of Kristen and offered his hand to Paul, who shook it and mouthed, 'I'm so sorry' to him. Burt nodded and walked out. It didn't matter if the viewing was still going on- there were two more days of this- his son was about to break, even if he didn't appear to notice. He was taking his son home.
Briefly, eye contact was made with David and Kurt as the younger boy was carried out. Paul was whisper-yelling at Kristen, who was trying to defend her perspective, but David didn't hear.
He just saw the broken glasz eyes as they vanished around the corner, the color burning itself into the back of his eyelids.
...3...
David hadn't seen Kurt at the actual funeral. Well, he'd seen the back of his head for a moment, before he slipped and fell against Burt and David's tiny viewing of him disappeared. He didn't see him scurry out after the coffin, and he got the briefest glance of him holding a white rose before throwing it shakily down into the hole the coffin was sunk in. That was all David had seen.
He hadn't seen Kurt again until late in the week, when Kurt returned to school on Thursday. It startled David immensely when Kurt didn't offer the answer to a question once, nor did he ask the teacher to restate the question. He just sat, slowly writing things down in his notebook with his lips forming a small frown. David hated this.
It was recess that things got messy...
...3...
Kurt hadn't even been listening in class that day. He was writing, yes, but not notes on the history he was supposed to be learning. No. He was writing a note to his mom, hoping somehow he'd be able to get it to her.
When the bell rang to announce that it was time to go outside, Kurt almost wanted to ask if he had to. He knew what would happen. The girls, Lauren, Lucy and Mercedes, would ask if he wanted to play. Rachel and Tina would start yelling at each other over who could sing better, and then someone (probably Lauren) would pipe up and say Kurt was the best singer in that group. Which would immediately spark Rachel to crack and say that they must have a sing-off and decide who was the best that way. Kurt didn't think he could sing, or even handle them, right now.
If he didn't go sit with them, he had to risk being bullied. By Azimio Adams, Chris Strando, David Karofsky, Noah Puckerman, and/or Finn Hudson. He didn't feel like getting shoved and picked on today...he just wanted to stay inside and keep writing and hoping...
But he didn't. Because that would involve talking. And he hadn't spoken since he found out she was gone. The only thing close to 'talking' he'd done was cry into his dad's shirt or into the pillow, and even then, he didn't sob out any words.
So he decided he'd risk the bullies, rather than risk the girls. He wandered over to the one, lonely lunch table in the shade, hopped onto the bench, put his notebook on the table and continued writing.
...3...
Noah was the one who saw him first. Well, he was the one who saw him and pointed him out. David had seen him come out of the school, the way he looked around like a caged animal, before finally trudging over to the shady spot and sitting down, back in his book. He looked worse every time David saw him.
"What a dork," Noah said, making all but one of the boys laugh.
That one boy was David. "Leave him alone," He said.
"Why?" Azimio asked, looking at David strangely. David opened his mouth to explain, but just ended up shaking his head.
"I say we go see what he's doing," Noah offered, an evil smile contorting his face.
"Guys..." David tried.
"Come on!" Chris said, beaming from ear to ear and gesturing for the others to follow him as he began charging Kurt. David almost wanted to go tell on a teacher, but who knew what damage could be done by then? He bit his lip and grabbed the first person he saw, which happened to be Rachel Berry. Goodie.
"Unhand me this instant!" She cried, wiggling free and shooting a death glare at David.
David shook his head. "I don't like you, just-"
She gasped, as if shocked whatever theory her fathers had told her about bullies liking who they picked on was true. "What?"
"Go get Mrs. Kingsley," David continued. "Please."
"What for?" She asked.
"Kurt," David said, then he rushed over to catch up with them.
...3...
"Hey, Hummel," Noah said. Kurt's shoulders tensed visibly and he cradled his book to his chest, looking up, but still not talking. "Cat got your tongue?"
Kurt swallowed and ducked his head, silently willing them to go away, especially as David, Finn and Chris all caught up.
"What's this?" Azimio, who had somehow gotten behind him, asked, snaking his hand around Kurt and ripping the book from his hands. Kurt gasped as the paper and cardboard sliced his palms, curling them into fists and whimpering before looking back at Az, who was flipping through the pages.
Just get the word out, Kurt, he instructed himself. But even as he opened his mouth to speak, he knew he wouldn't be able to.
When Az snickered was when Kurt realized his eyes were stinging already.
"Lookie here," Az said, passing it off to Noah, right over Kurt's head. Kurt grabbed for it, but missed, his hands shaking.
Noah did the same chuckle. " 'Mommy'? Wow, uh-"
"Stop it!"
They just exploded from his throat when he realized Noah was mean enough to read the whole thing aloud to the group. It shocked Kurt he could even get the words out, and it appeared to shock the others, too. Kurt threw himself at Noah and snatched the book back, holding it insanely close and backing away. Noah, angered that he was so easily defeated, glared at Kurt and said without thinking, "Your mom isn't coming back!"
Kurt blanched, the tears in his eyes burning with more fury as he quickly looked away. "I..." His voice sounded like someone creaking a door open, dry and rough from not using it for a while. A long while.
"She doesn't wanna," Noah continued, even as David shoved him from behind in some attempt to stop him. "If I were your mommy, I wouldn't want to come back to you, anyway."
...3...
David felt his jaw go slack at the coldness of that one sentence, and before he could even get out a scolding, "Puck!" Kurt let out the most miserable sound, a sob following shortly after it.
"Mr. Puckerman," Said Mrs. Kingsley, who had only heard the last bit. Noah turned, the color draining from his face, but she was too late anyway.
"Kurt..." David said quietly.
Kurt shook his head, his eyes never leaving the ground as he spun and his heal and sprinted in the other direction, stumbling only slightly. David didn't even think about it, he just followed after him, even as the teacher cried out for them to come back.
He found Kurt curled up on the side of the school, notebook thrown thoughtlessly to the side, his head buried behind his arms and between his knees. His sobs were loud, rough and almost painful and they made a pain bloom in David's chest. He frowned and sat down next to him, tapping his shoulder gently. Kurt startled, throwing himself away from the other boy with a look of horror on his face.
"I'm sorry," David said. And he meant it. More for Noah's words than for appearing so suddenly, but he still meant it with his whole heart. Kurt swallowed and stared at him a moment, before he choked out, "I didn't mean to..."
It took a moment for David to translate the words in his head, but he furrowed his brows and asked, "What?"
"I didn't mean to send her away," Kurt sobbed.
There was something in the way he said it, the way he looked so helplessly apologetic and sincerely broken, the light completely gone from his eyes, made David want to cry along with him. He shook his head, but Kurt kept going.
"I-I didn't know it was so...incontestable." Yet another word David didn't know. "Wh-What did I do?"
"Kurt..."
"I-If Noah could see, y-you surely could," Kurt cried, looking at David like he was either stupid or just plain rude. "What did I do..."
"You didn't do anything," David said without thinking about it. "You did nothing wrong...She was sick, right?"
Kurt nodded grimly.
"Then she was just sick," David said. "She didn't mean to...She didn't want to leave."
"How would you know?" Kurt asked, his voice becoming cold and hurt. "How do you know she didn't want to get away from me?"
David sighed. "My mom used to invite her over after book club meetings... She always was talking about you."
Kurt swallowed.
"She loved you," David continued. "All she ever did was say that, and how proud she is of you..."
"...Are you genuine?"
David nodded, hoping the definition that popped into his head was the right one.
Before he even realized what was happening, Kurt had thrown himself at him, gripping on for dear life. It took half a second of thinking, but David hugged him back.
Kurt huffed out a little sigh against David's shoulder, and David nervously rubbed his hand up and down Kurt's spine. He wasn't sure how to hug Kurt Hummel, but he didn't appear to be doing it wrong, if they way Kurt's hand kept gripping at the back of his shirt was anything to go by. "Thank you..." It was barely a whisper, but it was words, and that's all David could really ask for.
"You're welcome," David replied, not sure what Kurt was thanking him for, but that was just the proper response. "Thank you, too."
Kurt pulled back a little to look at him questioningly, but as he opened his mouth to ask 'What for?' a different voice interrupted them.
"Kurt?"
David looked over his shoulder and Kurt let out a shocked, "Daddy?"
The relief that washed over Burt's entire body was almost stunning, and David found himself blinking at him even as the other man got on his knees and hugged Kurt, apparently not even noticing the other boy there. "Jesus. Are you okay?" He asked, letting Kurt go to hold his face in his hands, checking for injuries. "Did someone hurt you?"
"No," Kurt said, shaking his head. "No, what are you doing here?"
"Your teacher called me," He said. "Christ, what happened to your hands?"
David craned his neck to see what Burt was talking about, wincing at the red marks marring Kurt's tiny hands from when Az stole his notebook. Kurt closed his hands into fists again. "It was an accident..."
No, it wasn't, David almost said. But Kurt sounded so small, like he was so scared of what might happen if Burt knew the truth, David bit his tongue and let it be.
Burt sighed. "Um...it's three, so, we can head home now, okay?"
Kurt nodded. "Okay..."
Burt mirrored the nod and offered Kurt his hand, which Kurt took, and he waved shortly at David before falling in step with Burt.
David sighed quietly, looking down at the spot where Kurt just was, and he gasped. "Kurt!"
Kurt stopped, which in turn made Burt stop, and turned around as David rushed over to them both. "You...um...you forgot your-"
"Oh!" Kurt said, taking the notebook from David and nodding. "...Thanks."
David nodded awkwardly and gave a sheepish smile. Kurt paused before giving him another quick hug. "Friends?"
David was a little shocked, but he nodded, and repeated, "Friends."
Kurt smiled - a real, genuine smile - and scampered back over by Burt, who smiled down at David in gratitude. David returned it, timidly, unsure of the look, before he looked down again as the two of them walked away.
...3...
They didn't talk again until high school, and that was with a slushy between them. David wasn't even sure if he mentioned it, the other boy would remember. He'd like to believe he would, if just for the sake of his sanity.
Just because they didn't speak again, though, didn't mean David didn't notice things. The way Kurt started laughing again, about a week after they spoke. The way he was back to fighting with Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones about who was the best singer. The way he was singing and smiling again.
David saw it all.
And not one day went by that he didn't wonder how things might've been, if he and Kurt had spoken just one time after their hug...just one time before that slushy.
ANGST dear God how I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! Ahhhhhh...Ahem. But yes. Eternal creys because this still isn't canon and I want to know why... -.-
Anyhow, this is late...and I am very sorry...but dumb computer is still broken and parents are possessive of their own computer...this must be resolved... *sniffles*
Anyway... Happy Kurtofsky Week! xoxo