Hey! This is StarShinobi! I decided to join the amazing club that is the Glee fic writers. I absolutely love the Kurt story line. I have to say it is about time someone addressed these issues. Anyway, I came up with this story while watching a YouTube video (heck if I can find it again) with the song in this story. Read and review! Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Warnings: bullying, angst, and Santana bitchiness
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of the characters.
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear"
-Ambrose Redmoon
"I'm just saying that we should try some more Bon Jovi," said Sam. "If Mr. Schue wants us to do older stuff we could at least do some good old stuff."
"Please, make me gag," said Santana, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Where's Mr. Schue?" asked Finn. "He's hardly ever late."
"Well, that is very unprofessional," said Rachel. "I will just have to take over the rehearsal."
"Sit down, Prima Dona," called Mercedes. "You ain't in charge."
"Well, for your information, I assume leadership when Mr. Schuester is absent…"
"Oh thank God, there he is," said Tina, falling against Mike's shoulder in mock relief.
Everyone's attention was brought to the door as it was pushed open by the Glee club teacher, his hand on the shoulder of the club's small male soprano. "Are you sure?" he asked, dipping his head in an attempt to look the younger man, who was staring at the floor, in the eye.
Kurt's head rose up in an obvious attempt to show his pride was not broken. "Yes," he said confidently. "As I have told you before, Mr. Schue, this is my hill. It just keeps getting higher and steeper."
The young boy pulled away from the teacher and moved toward his seat. "Kurt…" Will said, failing to pull the boy's attention. He waited until the boy sat in a seat next to Mercedes who gave him a concerned look. "Stay after class, Kurt. We're going to talk about this."
Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "Cant wait," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice and causing Will to sigh in exasperation.
"What's wrong with you, Princess?" asked Puck. Everyone knew Puck meant nothing by using the nickname, but Will saw a flash of hurt show on the countertenor's face. Something that obviously didn't go unnoticed by Mercedes.
"Yo, why you gotta call my boy that?" she yelled, catching everyone by surprise. "Can't you see it's disrespectful?"
"Mercedes, really, its fine," said Kurt quietly, trying to stop a potential fight like he always did. "He didn't mean anything by it."
"Yeah, calm down, Aretha," said Puck, leaning back in his chair. "If he wanted me to stop, all he'd have to do is ask."
"Ok, set list for sectionals…" said Will, trying to stop the argument.
"Yeah, because you make that easy," said Tina. "How many times did he ask you to stop throwing him in the dumpster and you didn't."
"Come on, Tina," said Mike, "that was a long time ago."
"Only because you helped him, football boy," said Mercedes.
"Come on guys, enough," called Mr. Schuester.
"Kind of holding on to that a little long, aren't you?" asked Santana. "Petty much?"
"Well it's kind of hard to get over it when someone terrorizes you like that," said Artie. "You ever been locked in a porta-potty?"
"Just forget it you guys," said Finn. "What's done is done."
"I can't believe you would say that about what happened to your own brother," said Rachel.
"Oh, get off your high horse, Mother Theresa," said Santana.
"ENOUGH!" yelled Mr. Schuester, effectively silencing the argument. "Sit down!" Those that had stood during the fight fell into their seats. "What are you guys doing? We're supposed to be a family, watching out for each other. Instead, you're at each other's throats. We have to stick together, that's the only way we're going to win sectionals."
A silence filled the room for a few agonizing moments. "You guys have to see eye to eye again," he said, an idea popping into his head causing him to grin evilly. "I was struggling with what your assignment would be, but thanks to you all, I think I got it. We're going to have a heart to heart week."
The students looked at each other, confused by Mr. Schue's words. The group let out a collective groan as he brought out the dreaded top hat they always used to pick names form assignments. "Please, Mr. Schuester, can't we just sing Kumbaya or something?" asked Quinn.
"You are each going to pick a name from the hat," smiled Mr. Schue, "and on Friday, you will perform a song that you think describes them; fits their personality. For the rest of the week, I want you to really think about this because this week you have to really see someone."
"Does it have to be a nice song?" asked Puck as he glared at Mercedes.
"I guess not," said Mr. Schue. "It needs to be about how that person appears to you, how they make you feel. That's why I want you to study them so you aren't just responding to the fight you just had. Maybe you'll find out something that explains what your friend is going through right now that is making them fight with you. I want you guys to find some understanding here."
"Mr. Schuester, I…" began Rachel.
"Come pick a name, Rachel," he said holding out the hat and cutting off the petition he was sure was going to come from the girl.
Rachel approached the hat and stuck her hand in, pulling out a piece of paper. "Finn," she read aloud with a saddened voice. She went back to her seat and sat with her hands on her lap, eyes on the floor.
Mr. Schuester allowed a sad smile to cross his lips. He knew what had happened between the two and that they were no longer together. "Kurt, why don't you go next?"
The boy pushed himself from his chair and took a name from the hat. "Rachel."
Mr. Schue saw the girl smile slightly. Lately the two had become closer friends and Will was glad for it. Too bad the situation had to get this bad for them to finally see the support they could receive from each other.
"Puck," called Will.
"Fine," he said and followed the suit of the other two. "Alright, Santana!"
Sam went up next and chose Quinn. "Oh now that's just not fair," said Mercedes.
"Guess that is just how destiny has decided it to be. Santana, why don't you choose next?"
Santana pulled the paper from the hat and an angry look plastered itself on her face. "Oh, come on! What the hell, I never even talk to this guy. I want a different pick." The students looked around, worried about who she had chosen.
"The fates have spoken, Santana," said Mr. Schuester, upset about her reaction over her pick. He pitied whoever's name she drew. "Who did you draw?"
"I got the Princess, that's who. I got Kurt!" She threw the paper down. Will saw the hurt spread over Kurt's face. Mercedes tried to put her arm around him, to comfort him, and it broke the teacher's heart to watch the boy move away from her. Santana was causing him to push those around him away yet another inch.
"Enough, Santana!" yelled the Glee coach. "You will do this assignment or you are off the team. Do I make myself clear?" What was he doing? He knew Kurt needed some kind of pick-me-up and the Latina girl obviously was not willing to give him one.
Santana let out a frustrated huff and crossed her arms over her chest again. "Whatever," she said angrily, stomping back to her chair next to Brittany.
"It's ok," said Brittany. "He's a really good kisser." She patted Santana's knee in an attempt to console her as Artie went up. Puck attempted to hold back his laughter.
"He's gay, you dumb blonde," responded Santana.
"And last but not least, Mercedes," said Will. "Looks like you get to sing to Mike. Alright guys, one week."
The group of students grumbled and groaned s they left the practice room. Mercedes was complaining to Kurt and asking him why he was late as they walked toward the door. "Kurt," called Mr. Schuester, "I believe we were going to talk."
Kurt let out another sigh. "I'll meet you by my locker, ok Mercedes?"
"Yeah, ok Kurt." And with that, the students left for their cars, complaining about their new assignment.
"Shit," said Santana, startling Quinn and Brittany. "I forgot my purse in the choir room. I have to go back and get it. I'll catch up with you."
"Okay," said Quinn and she and Brittany headed to Cheerio practice.
Santana returned to find the choir room still occupied by Mr. Schue and Kurt, but rather than enter, something caused her to stop. The door was open slightly so she listened in, peeking in the room through the slightly ajar door. Maybe she could get some juicy gossip out of this.
"I said I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"I think I would know if I wasn't." Kurt's voice was arrogant, snobby. In other words, thought Santana, it sounded like Kurt. To her, he was just like Rachel, but not as demanding or a bully. He just though he was the shit, and that was what bothered her about him.
A hiss of pain pulled the girl away from her thoughts as her eyes shot toward the pair. Kurt had his hand on his shoulder, having dropped his bag to the ground. Mr. Schuester was at his side, a comforting hand on his other shoulder. "Are you sure about that?" The young man shot a glare at the teacher as he straightened back up. "Come on, let's take a look."
Kurt hesitated before unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt and pulled his collar over his arm to expose his obviously bruised shoulder. "It's fine."
"No, its not, Kurt. Did Karofsky do this?" Kurt simply looked away, wincing as the teacher prodded the injury. "We have to tell Figgins."
"Because that worked so well last time," said Kurt, pulling his shirt back up, buttoning it again.
"He's been back three days, Kurt. It's only going to…"
"I can take care of it, thank you," said Kurt. "They obviously won't expel him, so I'm going to have to deal with him. I might as well not make him any angrier."
"It looks like he pushed you pretty hard."
"I said I'll deal," he retorted before picking up his bag. Kurt inspected the piece for a moment before putting it on his other shoulder.
"Kurt…"
"This is my problem, Mr. Schuester, but thank you for your concern."
And with that, Kurt headed for the door. Santana panicked for a moment; she was going to be caught eavesdropping. She quickly hid behind the door as Kurt came out and headed down the hall. He stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall. Santana watched as a shudder visibly ran through his body before continuing down the empty hall.
"He doesn't want anyone to know," came Mr. Schuester's voice causing Santana to jump. She turned to find the glee teacher holding out her purse. "I expect that you will respect his wishes." His eyes were full of concern, but darkened with the utmost seriousness.
"Yeah, yeah," said Santana as she took the purse from him. "Whatever." With that, she walked down the hall, disturbed by images of the tears she caught in Kurt's eyes as he suffered alone.
It was Thursday and the glee club was meeting in the practice room despite the fact that Mr. Schue had told them that they wouldn't meet until Friday for their performances. The group had decided to use this time to look for music for their assignments as Mr. Schue had decided to extend his threat of kicking Santana out of Glee if she didn't do the assignment to all of the Glee kids. Santana, however, was busy studying for her math test.
"This assignment is just stupid," said Puck as he plopped down in the chair next to Santana. "Understanding my ass."
"Oh, be quiet, Puck," said Quinn as she grabbed another book of sheet music. "I think Mr. Schuester might have a point as much as I hate this assignment."
"No, it's just dumb," said Puck. "Now I have to spend an entire Friday afternoon listening to twelve people sing fake songs to each other about how much we like each other. No one is going to be honest. If we were, at least one of these songs would be someone telling someone else to go screw themselves. I know there are a couple people here I wouldn't mind if I didn't see for a few days." Mercedes shot him a glare which he easily returned. The two had been continuing their fight ever since Glee a few days before.
"What?" asked Santana, closing her book. She hated math and welcomed the distraction. "You don't want to sing to me?"
Puck let a mischievous smile cross his lips. "I already picked out the song that reminds me of you. Wasn't hard at all."
"Oh really," said Rachel from the piano where she was working with Kurt to pick out a song for Finn. "And what song would that be?"
"Livin' La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin of course," he said winking at the Latina.
"Appropriate," said Santana with a smile as Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes before she turned back to work with Kurt. Santana couldn't help but notice how quiet the guy had been since she saw him at the last Glee meeting, but she shook it off. She didn't even like Kurt.
Definitely didn't care what was going on with him.
"What about you, Santana?" asked Puck.
"What about me?"
"What song you gonna sing for the Pr… for Hummel?" Santana couldn't help but notice how he caught himself. Did it really bother him that he might offend the kid?
"I don't know," she said opening her book again. "He's gay. Maybe I'll sing YMCA." She let out a chuckle at her own joke.
Everybody in the room jumped in surprise as the loud, hollow sound of a large book hitting the piano rang throughout the acoustic room. Everyone's eyes immediately found the well dressed boy standing at the glossy instrument, his hands pushing down on a heavy book so hard his knuckles were turning white. Rachel retreated back a few steps as she stared at the young man in shock. Kurt's eyes were locked on the book in his hands, and if looked could kill, though Santana, the piece of literature would be on fire, as well as the piano.
She was just able to keep her face calm as the angry teen turned his glare on her, his eyes ablaze in anger. Now she was nervous. "You know what, Santana," he said, his voice dark and threatening. Ok, now she was scared. Was Hummel capable of physical violence because she definitely hoped not. "Everybody gets it, I'm gay."
Santana found herself wishing she could get out of the room. All eyes were watching her and Kurt as if they were watching a tennis match, shifting from him to her and back again, judging their reactions. She was able to keep her 'I don't care' demeanor in tact, but it was taking everything she had. "At least I'm not afraid to be different, to show who I am rather than what people want me to be. Can you say the same thing? I'm different, I know that, but what is wrong with being different? "
He stopped for moment as if he was actually looking for an answer from her. She didn't know if she didn't want to answer him or if she couldn't, either way she remained silent. She didn't break eye contact with him though, which was quickly making her uncomfortable. "I get enough crap, everyday, from people in this school; I don't need it from you too. So shove it, Santana."
With that, Kurt grabbed his shoulder bag and started to throw it over his shoulder before hesitating. It was not lost on Santana that he ended up throwing the bag onto the opposite shoulder that he usually did, the one that hadn't been black and blue. He then stormed from the room, slamming the door open and exiting into the torrent of students on their way to their cars, practices, and lockers.
The room was silent for a few moments before a few students left to get away from the uncomfortable atmosphere. "What is wrong with you?" asked Rachel as she left to find Kurt. She was quickly followed by Mercedes who chastely growled a profanity at the Cheerio before her exit.
Artie could only shake his head at Santana as he and Brittany left. "I don't get it, what's wrong with YMCA?" asked Brittany as they left, Artie promising to explain it to her when she gets older.
Soon it was only Santana and Puck left in the room, both of them still too much in shock to move. Santana couldn't help but feel…guilty? Angry? Offended? She wasn't sure.
"What were you thinking?" came Puck's voice, bringing her back into the real world.
"What?" she said sassily. No one could know what was going through her head.
"Santana, how could you do that? You know as well as I do that Kurt is having a hard time right now."
Santana could feel her walls coming up to defend her. She could feel her tongue sharpen as it always did when she felt attacked. She couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth as much as she didn't want to say them. "I don't know about you, but I haven't seen any of this crap happen to him. Besides, he so fricken flamboyant about it all, he should know its coming. I'm not the only one who does it!"
But that doesn't make it right! she thought. Why couldn't she say that instead?
She saw Puck's eyes darken and he got up from his chair. "Yeah, he is flamboyant about it, but that doesn't give you the right to make him feel bad. I learned my lesson about that Monday even though I didn't mean for the name to make him feel bad." He headed for the door and stopped before leaving, speaking to the Cheerio over his shoulder. "You know what, Santana? You need to put the bitchiness away for a minute and really think about this. I don't know exactly what is happening, it's like the guy is trying to do this all alone, but Kurt is really hurting right now whether or not you want to believe it. That guy did threaten his life. Glee is probably the only place he feels safe right now."
There was a silence that encompassed the room again. Santana wanted so much to say something, to let Puck know that she knew she was wrong, that she knew what was happening to Kurt, but her damn pride. So, she remained silent, her face fixed in a pissed off grimace. "Santana, Kurt's my boy now and he needs us more than ever. Even you."
With that, the Mohawked teen left the room leaving Santana alone in the silence. She thought about everything that Puck had said, everything that Kurt had said and everything that she had seen. Puck was right, but Kurt wasn't just Puck's boy, he was hers too. She had to make this right. After Cheerio practice, she had something important to do.
Santana found herself walking down the empty halls of McKinley after Cheerio practice. Sue Sylvester had made a few of the cheerleaders stay late as they had been having troubles with their back handsprings. Santana was forced to stay because she had been acting distracted and Coach Sylvester wanted her to know that was not acceptable. Now it was getting late and she still had to figure out a song for Friday.
Just as she got to her locker, she heard a loud BANG from the next hall over accompanied by a pained grunt. The interest of the gossip girl in her peaked and she couldn't help herself. She hurried as quietly as she could in the direction of the noise and peaked around the corner. Unfortunately, the scene before her wasn't interesting anymore, but she still couldn't look away.
Before her, Dave Karofsky had Kurt Hummel shoved up against his locker, the collar of the small boy's shirt tightly grasped in his fist. Santana felt herself sink back a little; crouching down so neither teen would see her. She could hardly believe what she was seeing, and dare she admit it? She was scared. Dave's face was twisted up in anger as he took a quick look around to see if anyone was around to see what was happening.
Kurt, despite being greatly and obviously overpowered by the large boy, glared back at the jock with distain. "I don't want you near me," he said venomously, his voice darker than Santana had ever heard.
"You talkin' back to me, Ladyface?" said Karofky darkly, pushing closer to Kurt. Santana was disgusted to see the jock's body pushed flush against the young teen.
"Get away from me!" yelled Kurt angrily, his eyes becoming wide as he started to squirm. Santana had to cover her mouth to not make a sound as she watched a smile spread across the larger boy's lips as he watched Kurt struggle. "Get off me!" he yelled as loud as he could, yet refusing to lose eye contact with his tormentor.
"You better be quiet, homo, before I make you," he said almost gleefully, clearly enjoying this Kurt's obvious pain, but that didn't stop the countertenor's struggles.
"Get off! GET OFF!" screamed Kurt, his angry façade starting to drop and the fear becoming more and more evident.
"Guess I'm gonna have to make you," said the bully. He started to lean farther toward Kurt despite the fact that Santana thought there was no space left between the boys to fill.
"No, no, no!" yelled Kurt, his struggles becoming even more frantic as the jock leaned closer and closer. He began shaking his head from side to side. The anger returned to Karofsky's face and he removed one hand from Kurt's collar only to roughly grab his chin. Santana could only watch in horror as Kurt put his hands on Karofsky's shoulders, pushing for all he was worth as the jock moved his head closer. "Stop, please stop," begged Kurt, fear fully encompassing his features.
Karofsky put his forehead against Kurt's, pushing the boy completely against the cold lockers. Kurt couldn't hold the eye contact any longer and squeezed his eyes shut as if willing this whole run-in to be over. Santana couldn't help but wish the same thing as she watched Kurt's hands start to shake against the large boy' shoulders. The smile on Karofsky's face widened as he spoke. "That's more like it," he said, pushing closer so that his nose touched Kurt's.
Tears began cascading down the soprano's porcelain cheeks, heavy, sob-like breaths escaping his lips. "Please," he said.
"You just remember your place, Lady-boy," said Karofsky, his voice harsh and angry. "You ratted me out. You got me expelled."
"But I didn't tell," said Kurt breathlessly, his eyes remaining shut in fear, "not about that."
"I don't give a damn!" yelled the jock, shaking the boy and causing Kurt to whimper slightly. Karofsky pulled his face away from Kurt's and put his mouth right next to his ear. "I can keep my promise to you, anytime, anywhere," he said quietly but loud enough for Santana to hear from her hiding place. "Just like tonight, you won't always have your Glee club body guards to protect you. You belong to me, Hummel."
"No," said Kurt, his eyes opening again, "no I don't."
Karofsky removed his hand from Kurt's chin and instead pushed his forearm into his throat. Kurt's hands instantly left the jock's shoulders and grabbed his arm, trying to relieve some of the pressure. "Do not talk back to me, homo!" yelled Karofsky, spit flying from his mouth and mixing with the tears pouring down his face.
Kurt closed his eyes again as he fought his assaulter. "Dave, I can't breath," he choked out, strength failing as he continued to try to push Karofsky's arm away.
"I'm sorry," the bully replied, "did you say something?"
"Kar..of…sky…"
Dave continued to hold his arm firm, the evil smile remaining on his face. Santana got to her feet, ready to run to Kurt's aid. You should have done that when you first found them! she thought, but she knew why she didn't move to help him right away. Though she wouldn't admit it to anyone, the jock scared her unlike anyone else could. Just as she started forward, Dave released his hold on Kurt's neck and returned it to his shoulders.
Kurt began to cough as the fresh air hit his lungs again. Santana could see that his knees were weak, the only thing holding him up was Karofsky's hands. Santana watched as Kurt's eyes opened once again, but the fear was replaced by defiance. "Closet case."
Santana couldn't hold back the gasp as Karofsky drove his fist into Kurt's gut, but luckily it was masked by Kurt's pain filled grunt. Karofsky slammed the small soprano into the lockers once more, the sound of the impact causing Santana to jump. The hockey player released the teen and allowed him to fall to the floor in a ball of pain. "Don't you for a minute think this is over, Hummel," said the large boy as he stared down at his victim as he coughed on the floor. Karofsky knelt next to Kurt who unconsciously moved away from his assaulter. "Oh, and this never happened, understand, otherwise I might just have to pay that black girl you hang out with a visit?"
Kurt just continued to cough as he lay on his side on the ground. Dave grabbed his now messy hair and forced the boy to look at him. "Understand?" he asked more harshly.
Kurt could only nod, his eyes wide in terror, before the jock let him go and walked off as if the encounter had never occurred. Santana watched, grounded as if she had grown roots, as Kurt pulled himself into a sitting position and finally let the sobs escape him. Santana put her hand over her mouth, knowing that she couldn't give herself away now. She knew Kurt hated to let people see him this way. If she couldn't have helped him when Karofsky was there, she wouldn't put him through the humiliation of her seeing him this way.
She pulled her hand away from her face when she felt the wetness on her cheeks. When did she start crying? Why didn't she help him? She was brought back from her thoughts as the sobs she heard began to die away. She got up, wiped the tears away from her eyes, and adjusted her uniform so it looked as though she had just come from practice before walking away, Kurt's soft sobs echoing in her head.
Who are you? she thought. You aren't even strong enough to go console him. What is wrong with you? You might not be the best of friends with him, but he would have helped you and you know it. How could you just sit there and watch that? How can you just walk away?
But no matter what she thought, she just couldn't make herself turn around. Nonetheless, she knew, now more than ever, Kurt needed to know that someone was on his side.
Mercedes was startled when there was a pounding on her door. She looked up from her homework and checked the clock beside her desk. 10:00 pm. Who would be at her house this late? The pounding sounded through her house once more and Mercedes found herself racing to get to the front door. The only person she could think of that would come this late would be Kurt and her parents would not be happy to be woken up by one of her friends.
Mercedes got the door and ripped it open angrily. "Kurt, you should call me rather than going all diva and trying to wake …" she said, stopping when she looked at her visitor. Before her stood a very frazzled looking Latina. "Santana?" said Mercedes in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Look, Aretha," said Santana, her usual edge missing from her insults, "I need your help."
"Why should I help you?" she asked, her diva coming out instantly. "After what you said to Kurt…"
"That's kind of why I'm here," Santana interrupted. "Look, I still need to find a song for Kurt and I obviously need some help with that. I have no idea what to do and I don't want to make a fool out of myself tomorrow."
"Well, I'm not interested in saving your dignity."
"Then save Kurt's," said Santana hotly. "His dignity and mine go hand-in-hand for this one and I'm not willing to disgrace myself over some stupid glee assignment."
Mercedes glared at the girl in front of her but she couldn't help but see her point. Kurt was becoming distant. He needed to hear something positive and know that he wasn't alone. Santana may only be looking out for herself, but in order to save Kurt from being humiliated, to get that positive message, she was going to have to help Santana save her dignity. "Fine, but I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for my boy."
"Whatever," said Santana as she pushed past Mercedes and entered the house. The young diva couldn't help but notice the lack of bite in the Latina's sassy insults.
Mercedes led Santana to her bedroom where they could talk without waking her parents. "Alright, what songs are you thinking about?" Santana mumbled a few unintelligible words. "I'm sorry."
"I said I haven't even chosen any songs yet," she said almost sounding ashamed of herself.
"You mean it's late, the night before you are supposed to perform and you don't even have an idea of what you could sing?" started the diva.
"That's why I'm here!" yelled Santana.
"Shhhh!" hushed Mercedes. "My parents are sleeping."
"This was a waste of time," sighed Santana, obviously exasperated. "I'm outta here."
Mercedes could see that there was something more to this than Santana was letting on. She looked genuinely angry, and not in her usual way. Something else was bothering her. "Santana, wait," called Mercedes as the Cheerio started to exit her bedroom. Santana stopped and turned around, her hands on her hips. "What's going on? What's bothering you?"
"Nothing," she said crossing her arms over her chest.
"I don't believe that for a second. Just a few days ago, you were yelling insults at my boy. This afternoon, you made him more angry than I have ever seen before. It didn't bother you then, but something is bothering you now. So, I'll ask again, what…is…wrong?"
"Look, I followed Mr. Schue's instructions. Between that and what you guys have been yelling at me about, I finally got it, ok? So can you just leave it alone and help me?"
Mercedes could hear Santana becoming more and more frustrated and decided to drop it. No matter what Santana's reasons were, they both had the same goal: to have an appropriate song for Kurt. "Alright, alright. I'll drop it."
"Thank you," sighed Santana, softness finding its way into her voice. "Now, where do we start?"
"Ok, um… I guess we start with what you know about Kurt."
"He's gay."
A grimace found its way onto Mercedes' face. "Knock it off, Santana. We all know he's gay, but that isn't all he is. What else? What do you like or admire about him?"
"I don't know," she said angrily as she started pacing the bedroom floor. "I don't talk with him. We aren't friends. We used to talk a little when he was a Cheerio, but nothing substantial. We talked about routines, music choices, how insane Coach Sylvester is, but not about him. So excuse me if all I know about the kid is that he's gay. Honestly, how much do you know about me? We don't talk either. I bet you would say that I am a bitch. It's accurate but it isn't all I am!"
"Ok, ok," said Mercedes, understanding where the Latina was coming from but honestly not liking what she was saying, however true it was. "Alright, let's try something different. You know more about Kurt than you think, you just have to jog your memory a little. You remember when we did the Jesus tribute?"
"Yeah, Kurt sang that song I Want To Hold Your Hand. It was about his dad wasn't it? Something had happened with his heart, he was in the hospital, and Kurt told us about…about when his mom died."
"Yeah," said Mercedes, deciding to fill in some blanks for the Cheerio to make her job a little easier. "Kurt's dad is his entire world. Ever since his arrhythmia, Kurt has taken care of his dad: cooking his meals, cleaning the house, even taking care of the books once in a while at the garage. Now that his dad married Finn's mom, his job has gotten a little easier."
"Wow," said Santana, sitting on the bed next to Mercedes and looking at the floor.
"I know," said Mercedes with a smile, "he's quite the guy. He'd do anything for his dad. Did you know that he threw the diva-off with Rachel for the Defying Gravity solo last year to protect his dad?"
"How does throwing a solo help save his dad?"
"The song is traditionally sung by a girl even though the message isn't exactly feminine. The day before the competition, somebody called Kurt's dad. When he answered, the guy said 'Your son is a fag' and hung up. It really rattled his dad and Kurt decided to throw the competition. He told me that if he sang that song in front of the school, his dad would get more of those calls."
"But Kurt goes through that all of the time," said Santana confused.
"But Burt, Kurt's dad, doesn't. Kurt saw how much it bothered him. He told me that he threw it to protect his father from the cruelty of the world he lives in."
"Why?" asked Santana as she stared at her hands that sat in her lap. "Why would he do that? He is always looking for a solo, to be in the spotlight."
"Because he loves his dad more than he loves being a star. He found that he could hit that high F before the competition, but decided that if he missed that note, it would look like he couldn't, rather that wouldn't, do it."
"I didn't know."
"He doesn't tell anyone because he doesn't want anyone to know. He has this weird thing about not being a burden on people," Mercedes said with a sad yet proud smile.
Santana couldn't help but hear the similar words from her conversation with Mr. Schuester a few days before…
He doesn't want anyone to know. I expect that you will respect his wishes.
No one knew the extent of what he was hiding to protect everyone…
Oh, and this never happened, understand, otherwise I might just have to pay that black girl you hang out with a visit?
He was doing this all alone. It was stupid because he didn't have to, but she could also see how this seemed like the only option. He was so brave to go through all of this and still be true to himself; the amazing person that she saw everyday. He protected his dad from the cruelty the world held for Kurt. He protected his friends from the threats of a terrible bully. And he did it all without asking anyone to protect him.
She suddenly remembered looking into Kurt's locker a few days ago seeing a single word below the picture of a very attractive boy. It encompassed everything she had seen over the past few days and ultimately everything she ever knew about the flamboyant fashionado.
"Santana, you alright?" said Mercedes, awakening Santana from her thoughts.
"Yeah," she said happily as she rose from the bed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think I have it all figured out. Thanks for all of your help, Mercedes, but I should get going. I have a lot of work to do before tomorrow."
Santana ran out the door and Mercedes heard the front door close quietly in the background. "No problem," she said to the empty space with a smile. She looked over at her picture of the glee club that sat on her nightstand. She smiled as she found the countertenor smiling playfully in the picture. She wished Kurt would still smile like that, but she hadn't seen it in a long time. Maybe Santana's song and her newfound appreciation of the boy would help him.
Her eyes traveled a couple inches to the left of the picture. She cursed inwardly as the time on the clock registered in her head. 11:00 pm. She sat back down at her desk and reopened her algebra book. She really hated homework.
The club sat in the practice room, each person taking their turn singing their dedication to their fellow gleeks. True to his word, Puck had sung Livin' La Vida Loca for Santana soon followed by several other performances. Each song was lighthearted, making each person feel a little better about themselves as the listened to their song.
Santana knew she was last to go and she became more and more nervous as each song passed. She looked over at the countertenor who was sitting next to Mercedes on the complete other side of the room. His eyes were unfocused as he stared at the floor, the tip of his thumb caught between his teeth. He had completely checked out after he sang to Rachel. Something was bothering him, but whether it was due to the fact that Santana would be singing to him or the events of the previous evening with Karofsky she was unsure. She really hoped it wasn't her though. He shouldn't have to worry about her on top of everything else.
"Santana," said Mr. Schuester, pulling her from her thoughts. "You're up."
Santana hesitated before pushing herself up from her seat and heading to the front of the room. She could see the reluctance in the faces of her fellow glee clubbers and the wariness emanating from Kurt's now focused eyes, wondering what monstrosity she was about to sing. It made her heart beat even faster. The only thing that kept her from running from the room was her own stubbornness and the encouraging smile being presented to her from Mercedes.
She could feel herself shaking as she opened her mouth to speak. "Ok, so I know all of you are waiting for me to sing something totally offensive and make Kurt cry but you are just going to have to wait because I have a little something to say first. I know I'm not supposed to say anything, but I just can't keep what I know a secret. I followed Mr. Schue's instructions this past week and followed my assigned person once. And once was all it took for me to see true bravery."
She saw everyone's heads perk up at these words. Did they really think that she was going to say something offensive again? "In two days I have learned more about Kurt than I have learned about him in the past two years. Kurt, you took care of your sick dad all by yourself, even throwing a competition so that he wouldn't be taunted by the homophobic pricks of the world."
"What?" yelled Rachel causing some of the people around her to jump.
"Just listen, Hobbit, this isn't about you," said Santana a little more hotly than she had intended, but it was true, this wasn't about Rachel. Santana finally rounded up enough courage to look at the male soprano and couldn't help but smile at the mildly surprised look on his face. She was glad to see that there was a hint of happiness in his eyes however. "Kurt, you face a bully everyday that doesn't only threaten you, but those you care about." And with that, the joy in his face completely vanished and Kurt began to turn pale. She looked away from the boy, but continued. "But despite everything you go through, despite all the people you protect, you have never placed any of that burden on anyone and you still manage to find the courage to continue being true to yourself.
"I saw what happened to you last night, and yet here you are, going on as if nothing happened to protect those around you. I wish I was brave as you, Kurt. I really do. It took me a while but I think I finally found the perfect song for you. I hope you like it."
She looked back at Kurt to see him hesitantly looking back at her. She gave him a small smile and he returned a forced smile to her. She felt her heart break a little bit at that forced smile, but she hoped her song could make him smile for real.
She nodded to the piano player. After a few measures of opening music, she began to sing, softly and with true sincerity in her voice.
Take all my vicious words
And turn them into something good
Take all my preconceptions
And let the truth be understood
Take all my prized possessions
Leave only what I need
Take all my pieces of doubt
And let me be what's underneath
Courage is when you're afraid,
But you keep on moving anyway
Courage is when you're in pain,
But you keep on living anyway
She saw the countertenor's eyes start to fill with tears as a sad, yet happy smile began to spread across his face. That was enough to give Santana the strength to finish. Seeing how her words could make the struggling teen smile made her feel…worthwhile.
We all have excuses why
Living in fear something in us dies
Like a bird with broken wings
It's not how high he flies,
But the song he sings
Courage is when you're afraid,
But you keep on moving anyway
Courage is when you're in pain,
But you keep on living anyway
You keep on living anyway
It's not how many times you've been knocked down
It's how many times you get back up
Santana looked directly at Kurt with these words, making eye contact. She could tell that these words had hit home, addressing how Karofsky constantly threw him to the ground. She wanted him to know that she admired that despite the pain the bully put him through, he always got back up.
Courage is when you've lost your way,
But you find your strength anyway
Courage is when you're afraid
Courage is when it all seems grey
Courage is when you make a change,
And you keep on living anyway
You keep on moving anyway
You keep on giving anyway
You keep on loving anyway
Santana finished her song and allowed the silence to resonate throughout the room. She sought out the face of the countertenor and couldn't help but smile. Though tears were streaming down the young man's cheeks, a genuine smile was spread across his face. Mercedes had her arm around his shoulders in comfort, an approving smile on her face as well as she covertly gave her a thumbs-up.
"Santana, that was beautiful," said Mr. Schuester as he got up from his chair. "I am really proud of you," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "of all of you. You proved that even though you have all been fighting for the past week, you are still a team. You are still a family."
There was another silence in the room as the message sank in. Suddenly, Rachel's hand shot up into the air. "Mr. Schuester," she said placing her hands in her lap, "now that we have completed our assignment, I think we should discuss our set list for sectionals…"
"That will be for next week," said Mr. Schuester cutting her off before the argument even started. "So, everybody enjoy their weekend and we'll start fresh on Monday."
"But Mr. Schue…"
"Have a good weekend, Rachel," he emphasized before grabbing his briefcase and heading toward the door. Rachel got up to follow Will out of the room yelling more about the sectionals set list and was quickly followed by several of the glee clubbers who wished to escape in case she brought the teacher back. Soon, Santana found herself alone in the room with Kurt, who was obviously taking his time collecting his things.
Courage, she thought, remembering the sign in Kurt's locker. She looked down and adjusted her Cheerio uniform nervously. Just go talk to him. She let out a breath and looked up, but before she could move, she found herself enveloped in a hug, small arms around her waste. She hesitated for a moment before returning the soprano's embrace. "Thank you," she heard him say with a sincere yet shaky voice before he pulled back and started to head for the door.
She watched him for a moment, contemplating if she should say anything, but decided now was the only time she would be brave enough to do it. "I meant what I said, you know."
Kurt stopped and slowly turned to face her, tear tracks still present on his face as if he couldn't get them to disappear. She watched as he wiped his face again in another attempt to hide the evidence of his emotions. "What?"
"I meant what I said about wishing I was as brave as you."
"If you really saw what happened yesterday, then you know I'm not brave," he said a little darkly.
"That's where you're wrong," she said honestly, crossing the room so that they weren't worlds away from each other. "Kurt, you were right about me. I'm afraid to be what I want to be. I act like a bitch and keep everyone at arm's length because then no one can hurt me, but you… You show who you are everyday and despite the crap you get for it, you never try to hide your true self."
"Santana…"
"And I was telling the truth, I did see what Karofsky did to you yesterday," she said, another crack appearing in her heart at the pain in his eyes. "I'm still angry with myself that I didn't help you. I should have stepped forward and stopped him but I didn't and I will have to live with that. Kurt, I know we're not that great of friends, or friends at all really, and I know you don't like to burden people with your problems, but you shouldn't have to do this alone." She say the tears start to fall down his face again as he forced another smile. It took everything she had to hold hers back. "So, I guess what I am trying to say is, if you ever need anybody to talk to, or maybe even just someone to walk with you so he doesn't find you alone, I can be here for you."
Santana approached Kurt and grabbed his phone from his hands, halting his protest by putting up her index finger. She pressed some buttons and gave the phone back to the boy who now stood staring at her with his mouth agape. "That is my number. Feel free to text me anytime you need me."
Kurt looked down at his phone as the tears fell from his eyes again. "Thank you, Santana. I really do appreciate it, but I can take care of myself."
"I know you can, but if you ever decide to take the world off your shoulders for a minute or you just need time to bitch, I'm here."
"This doesn't make us friends you know."
"Are you kidding? You cramp my style too much," she said jokingly, a smile on both their faces. "I figure it's a start."
"Yeah," said Kurt wiping the tears from his cheeks once more, "it's a start." He turned and started to head for the door again but stopped before he exited. "Thank you again, Santana. I did need that."
"No problem, Princess."
A genuine smile spread across his face as he turned the door handle. "Anytime then?"
"Anytime, but not during Cheerio practice. Coach Sylvester would have my hide."
Kurt let out a small chuckle. "That she would. Have a good weekend."
"You too, Kurt," and with that, the boy left Santana alone with her thoughts. She thought about everything that had happened this week and couldn't help but smile. Things would get better for Kurt, they just had to. She grabbed her bag and headed toward the hall containing the throng of students. As she approached she saw the face of Karofsky walking quickly in Kurt's direction and acted impulsively. When he was finally close enough, she swung the door open as hard as she could, the resulting crack resonating through the busy hall as said door collided with the bully's face, sending him to the floor.
"Watch where I'm going," she yelled at the jock as he stared up at her from the floor holding his forehead. She could see the fear in his eyes. Good, he's just as afraid of me as I am of him, she thought as she quickly turned, flipping her hair behind her as she went. As she passed the student's staring at the injured boy she caught Kurt's eye and gave him a subtle smile which he covertly returned before he started toward the parking lot. At least he couldn't escape today without dealing with his bully's wrath.
She looked down at her watch and cringed. Too bad she wouldn't have the same luxury. She was late for Cheerio practice…
Thanks for reading. I used the song Courage Is… by The Strange Familiar for this fic but I honestly considered using Pink's F**Kin' Perfect. I thought it was more Santana's speed but decided against it A) because I started writing this fic based on Courage Is… before I even heard F**Kin' Perfect and B) let's be honest, what teacher would let Santana get away with singing the F-word in a high school. I feel like I made her a little OOC so please don't berate me with reviews on that. Otherwise, let me know what you think! I love to hear from my readers whether it is encouragement or constructive criticism! Thanks again!
Also, I always put quotes at the beginning of my stories. I had quite a few that I thought about using but they just didn't work as well. So, here were some other choices.
"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" -Mary Anne Radmacher
"Be strong. Live honorably and with dignity. When you don't think you can, hold on." –Unknown
"Do one thing everyday that scares you." -Unknown