Hey, so this is my first kurtofsky, and i am well aware that it isn't very good, however i have a plot bunny who just won't bugger off. I should warn you now, I love angst BUT i also adore and to be honest i'm not sure which this story is heading toward. This will be at least 2 chapters.

Disclaimer - If i owned Glee, rachel would not exist. And she does. Therefore these characters are clearly the work of ryan murphy and i'm just a 3 year old playing with dolls. Mmmk? Onward my good people!

Dave Karofsky woke with a start. He found himself gasping for air. He grabbed his blankets and pulled them around his chin as he recalled the dream he'd had.

He walked past Kurt Hummel in the corridor with Azimo. Suddenly everyone disappeared and he looked at Azimo, and saw him on the floor punching Hummel. Dave tried to pull him off Hummel but he was a ghost and could only stand and watch. Azimo disappeared and Dave tried to get Hummel to wake up, he wouldn't. "Kurt?" He whimpered as he clasped the smaller boy's hand.

Dave couldn't help but cry, it was the third night in a row that he'd had that dream. As much as he tried to externalise a "straight" image around his friends, when he was alone in his room at 2am and had just had a nightmare, possibly the worst in his life, he didn't care.

Dave knew he wouldn't sleep now, he got out of his bed and lightly fingered the scarf which hung on the end of his bed. He remembered how he got it.

He shoved Hummel into a locker as he walked past him, his hand getting caught in the silk scarf. He pulled it and was surprised to find it came easily. He thought it was funny, it probably had sentimental value to the queer. Now it was his, to burn, or throw in a dumpster, or cherish… He threw it in his bag and for some reason when he got home, hung it on his bedpost. He told himself it was to remind him of his mission, to make Hummel's life hell.

He sighed as he picked up the scarf and smelt it. It smelt like Kurt, or the distinct scent that always curled around him whenever he was near enough to Kurt, whenever he was lucky enough to be near Kurt.

He watched as Mercedes let Kurt loop his arm through hers. He had learnt all of the names of Kurt's friends on the off chance he was ever brave enough to tell him, he wanted to be able to show that he at least knew their names. He felt a surge of jealousy flow through him as he watched Kurt smile and laugh at something she said, his eyes lighting up. He forced the jealousy down, but as they walked past him it flared up enough for him to reluctantly shoulder bump Kurt as he walked past. He wondered briefly if the pain of coming out would be better than the burning guilt that ate at him every day.

Dave opened his laptop, the background used to be a picture of Kurt until Azimo had come around one day and Dave had panicked and deleted all his photos. He regretted it later. Dave sighed and started looking through all his favourite porn sites, he didn't mind when his imagination switched on.

"Dave!"

Dave looked up as he heard the voice of his best friend call him, he plastered on a fake smile and they went through their normal routine.

"Neanderthals." Dave had heard Kurt say to one of his friends one day, he looked it up when he got home and found himself quite hurt. He started to watch his and his friend's actions over the next few days and realised Kurt was right.

"Let's go kick some faggot ass!"

Dave had to stop himself wincing at his best friend, wondering how he could have ever genuinely been friends with this Neanderthal.

He wondered if Kurt noticed, if anyone noticed. Dave stopped hitting people as much, when he shoulder bumped someone it was softer. The pleasure Dave used to get from pain became guilt. Kurt didn't notice though, he knew he didn't. His best friend did though.

"Dude, did you hurt yourself at practice?" His best friend cornered him on their way to math.

"What? No?" Dave tried to keep walking but Azimo put his hand on his shoulder and forced him back.

"Dude, I've been trying to cover for you, but you got to push faggots hard, otherwise they'll never learn." Dave shook the hand off and tried to ignore him.

"Dude, we got to go to class." Azimo pushed him back again.

"No dude, we got to teach some faggots a lesson." Dave was seething, he was sick of Azimo's constant "lessons".

"What lesson? Dude we've been wailing on that Hummel kid since grade school and he's still a queer." Dave hoped his sudden bravery would confuse Azimo rather than anger him, his hopes were shattered.

"Are you sticking up for the faggot?"

"No I just…" He couldn't finish the sentence as a fist connected with his face.

"Stay away from me, faggot." For the first time Dave felt the hatred which he had been pouring into the world, being poured into him. He wanted to cry, but he dragged himself to the nurse instead.

It was later in Spanish that he realised nobody was looking at him strangely. Azimo hadn't told anybody yet. Until then Dave had wanted to wait at his ex-best friend's car after school and beat him to a bloody pulp. He then realised Azimo wasn't in class. He looked at one of the other football players sitting next to him and whispered "Where's Azimo?"

The other guy looked at him strangely, and replied. "Dude, you don't know? He got suspended this morning. He came into maths and started yelling at Miss Dunham and shit, 1 week suspension starting today."

Dave looked down at his work and mumbled a reply which might have been something along the lines of thanks. He wasn't really sure.

The guilt plagued him all day. That night he had the dream again, this time Kurt opened his eyes just before Dave woke up. He wasn't sure why, but that made him feel worse. Probably because Kurt's eyes were so scared, and hateful, as though Dave had been the one hurting him.

That day at school everyone scattered from him, his guilt turning him into some sort of monster. His mind focused on Kurt, and he repeatedly slammed him into lockers. His head was spinning and he couldn't shake the memory of when his life turned into this.

"Dave! I found one!" A small excited boy jumped up and down, he looked about five, although he was actually eight. A bigger boy bounded over to him, smiling.

"Wow Kurt! A unicorn! That's so cool!" The younger boy grinned up at him before frowning at something behind him.

Dave turned around and saw his teammates from the school junior baseball team which his dad had made him join.

"Hey, Dave!" The darker boy in front called out "Do you want to play some football? We're going to play."

Dave smiled and nodded, he liked football, he was good at it. "Kurt, do you want to play football?" The little boy shook his head, his eyes wide as he pleaded with his friend not to leave him.

"I'm going to go and play, I'll come see you later promise." He walked over to his teammates leaving Kurt at the trunk of the tree they had been playing around. Dave never went back to Kurt that day, or the next day. Kurt eventually made new friends, he joined choir and spent most of his lunches inside. If you asked Dave what had happened to his friend he'd have said he couldn't find him, when in actual fact, he never looked.

Dave snatched Kurt's phone out of his hand and dropped it to the floor, he was on his way to the locker room, to get his shoes for practice. He didn't expect Kurt to follow him.

"What is your problem?" Dave turned around as Kurt screamed at him. He heard himself make some jab at Kurt's gender refusing to register it in case it added to the piles of guilt he carried around.

"What are you so scared of?" Dave turned away and started fiddling with his shoes.

"Besides you coming in here and sneaking a look at my junk?" because if it was you in here, I would want to.

"Oh right, every straight guy's nightmare, that all us gay's guys are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well guess what Ham hock, you're not my type."

Dave refused to let that hurt him, he ignored the voice inside him that wanted to say "What is your type? I will become it." And the one that wanted to tell Kurt that his worst nightmare was not being able to protect him. Instead he came back with the only retort his brain could fathom. "Is that right?" he felt his body trying to intimidate Kurt. He tried to ignore the fact that he wanted to kiss Kurt so much that it hurt.

"Yeah. I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty." Dave couldn't help his voice wavering as he attempted to threaten Kurt, he was trying to hold back the tears which were threatening to fall. In the back of his mind he registered that Kurt was talking again.

"…You can't punch the gay outta me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you." Dave tried one more time to insist that Kurt leave him alone, he could feel his resistance faltering.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy, who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary, you are."

Dave kissed him. It was clumsy and he could feel the tears running between their lips. But it was Kurt. His Kurt. He pulled out from the kiss and he saw the same wide eyes looking at him, this time he decided he wasn't going to walk away. Then Kurt pushed him. It hurt. Dave hit the locker, then ran.