Guilt consumed Sebastian about what he had said to Dave at the club. He had been in Dave's position once, and he wanted to tell him what he wished some of the people that had demeaned him had said to him – an apology. He knew that it wouldn't do anything really. But he wanted Dave to understand that he wasn't alone. Ever.
TRIGGER WARNING. MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND SELF-HARM.
The choir room filled with silence as Jeff broke the news that shocked everyone.
"I've just spoken to Blaine. Dave Karofsky - the boy that bullied Kurt, he's in the hospital, he attempted suicide." No one said anything; they all did the same thing though. They stood up as the news was broken and touched their hearts.
All except Sebastian.
A look of confusion passed his face, then shock, followed by fear, guilt and sadness. He walked out of the rehearsal room in a daze. His legs carrying him to the parking lot, and to his car. He turned the engine on as the tears started to flow. He hit the steering wheel; he couldn't comprehend what Jeff had said to them, said to him. He let out a hard sob and fished in his pockets for his phone; he pressed Blaine's number and held it to his ear. He hadn't expected him to answer, after everything he had said and done to him over the last month or so. He hated the person he had become, hated him with every piece of his being.
When the silky smooth voice that he had begun to get attracted to. It was different this time: filled with sadness, his voice was cracked, emotion seeping through the phone.
"What is it, Sebastian?" He sounded drained, that only heightened Sebastian's ever growing anxiety.
"Tell me it isn't true?" He said, his voice pleading.
"Why should I tell you anything? After everything you've done, why?"
"Please," he breathed, desperation and agony filling him.
"It's true," he uttered, the despair in Sebastian's voice too grave for him to ignore.
"He's in the hospital; he's not to see anyone for a few hours. His parents are with him, waiting for him to wake up."
"When will he be allowed visitors?" Apprehension flowing through his voice.
"Not for a few days, Sebastian, why do you care about a boy whom you've never met?"
"I... I don't. I..." Sebastian ended the call; he turned the phone off and let out a ragged breath. He drove to the hospital, and walked in slowly. His jaw tense, he found himself going to a nurse and asking where Dave's room was, fighting back a torrent of emotion.
"Are you family?"
"I'm his brother," it slipped out so quickly and so easily that Sebastian hadn't realised it had. The nurse nodded and directed him the way, he slowly walked through the wards and upstairs until he found the room. The boy was awake, tears streaming down his face. The door was ajar, and Sebastian felt himself crumbling as he heard words so familiar to him.
"You're diseased. We'll get that illness out of you soon enough. Won't be like that boy at McKinley," Sebastian looked through the glass, the words pained him as well as they did Dave. He didn't want to listen anymore, he wanted them to go, and he'd wait until they did.
He didn't have to wait long. After a thirty minute long lecture, they left, his dad silent, looking away from his mom who was still talking about finding a cure for her son.
Dave had turned from the door, sobs wracking his body. Sebastian knew he should go in now, before somebody came and checked on him and told Sebastian to leave.
What was he to say? He had no idea. Sebastian took a deep breath and walked into the room quietly; he sat down next to him and looked down. Everything stuck in his throat, he stared at the boy in front of him and looked down, he could see the ligature mark, he willed himself not to leave.
"I'm sorry for everything I've said to you," Dave turned quickly in surprise that someone was there. He looked down.
"Please leave," he said quietly, no strength in his voice, he sounded so weak.
"What I said, all of it, I didn't... I shouldn't have said any of it. I've been in this position before, Dave. Being scared, alone, feeling so vulnerable. Feeling as though, it's your only option, but it really isn't,"
"You can't know any of that. Not really. You have the perfect life, you've got friends that don't care if you're gay, and your mom doesn't think there's some vile disease inside you..."
"She does," Sebastian says before Dave can say another word. "Two years ago, she walked into my bedroom and found me... With a guy," he looked down. "She screamed at him to leave, and I never saw him again. She told me I was a disgrace, she hit me, tried to beat it out of me, then told me that I should have never been born," he looked down, fighting back the waves of emotion that were hitting him.
Dave watched Sebastian intently, shocked at what he was saying, but after listening to what Kurt had said to him once about the young Warbler in front of him, and took it with a pinch of salt.
"I remember everything about it: the anger inside of her, the confusion, the pain that my mother had rejected me. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong, I'd just discovered how to make myself feel good, and what I was into. I was exploring," Sebastian fiddled with the bed sheet, not looking up at the young man. "She told me I was a parasite, and shouldn't be near her or her family. I was her own flesh and blood and she was telling me that she didn't want to ever see me again. It would be better off if I was dead." The last sentence rang through the room louder than any other thing Sebastian had said.
"To me, that sounded like an invitation – sounded as though she wanted me to do it myself. And I tried." He looked down, ashamed. David reached out for his hand, trying to comfort the scared and frightened boy in front of him – this was a side that David had never thought he could possibly see in the boy who told him to stay in the closet. The boy that, in essence, had been doing the same thing to him as he had done to Kurt. Sebastian quickly pulled his hand away and stood up. He took a shaky breath and took his blazer off slowly; he undid the buttons at his sleeves and slowly rolled up the crisp white shirt to his elbows. He looked at Dave slowly and blinked away tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. He showed the underside of his wrists; deep, hideous white scars down his vein. He showed him for all of five seconds before rolling his sleeves down and letting a single tear fall from his eyes.
"My dad likes to hunt – he had rope, guns, and knives. There was a knife that he used not very often because it always cut too deep into his kill. It would ruin the animal that he was trying to skin. So, I picked it up, took it to the bathroom, and ran a bath." He pulled his blazer on and looked up at Dave slowly. "My dad had seen me take the knife – it was one of the rare occasions when he was actually home. My mom hadn't told him what she had said to me. He heard me crying, and thought the worst – which was, well, right. He broke down the door. The bath was red, and I passed out." He wiped his eyes furiously as tears fell from his eyes. "I woke up in hospital. I'd lost a lot of blood already. They had to give me a blood transfusion. I was lucky apparently." He looked down and picked at the sleeves to his blazer.
"All the things I have said to you, you have no idea how sorry I feel about those,"
Dave stared at the boy, dumbfounded for a while and nodded. "I know why you said them, Sebastian. I'm just sorry that you had to say them." Sebastian looked up slowly, confusion filling his features. Dave was apologising to him?
"Sebastian, why are you so heartless?" He asked gently, sitting up slowly, watching the confusion spread further on the young boy's face.
"I guess it's because it's easy than getting hurt every day." He said simply, looking down at his feet. "I do want to change," he breathed.
"We can change together," Dave breathed and took his hand hesitantly again. Sebastian looked up and smiled weakly.
"Why would you help me?"
"So we don't have to suffer alone. Teach me how to make the words not hurt and I'll teach you how to let people in."
Sebastian nodded. "Okay," he whispered and squeezed his hand lightly.
"You should go because someone is going to come in soon to check on me again," Dave sighed, looking at their hands.
"I'll bring you some ice cream. How's butterscotch? It's better than cookie dough for when you're feeling... You know," Dave smiled shyly, looking down with a bashful look on his face.
"It's my favourite."
"Excellent," he chuckled and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles before walking towards the door.
"Thank you," they both breathed in unison and shared one final look before Sebastian walked out of the room.
Sebastian would make sure that Dave was okay, he could lend a helping hand to make his life easier, he could get him a place at Dalton and try and erase all the demons from his life like Sebastian was trying to do himself. He couldn't promise Dave that he could bring the boy happiness; he couldn't promise that escaping would be easy. Though, he would try and take away the nightmares, take away the fear that he knew he was going to. Sebastian could try and give him a happier life.
A smile touched his lips, a proper smile for the first time in however long he could remember; and Sebastian knew that he – they - wouldn't be alone ever again.