It's My Turn
In a world where, in Theatricality, Burt didn't come down the stairs. Kurt's sick of hearing Finn insult him, he wants to put his own opinion in.
"It's just a room, Finn! We can redecorate it if you want to!"
"Okay, good, well then the first thing that needs to go, is that faggy lamp, and then, we need to get rid of this faggy couch blanket, and then this faggy privacy partitioner, and the faggy cloth hanging everywhere!" Finn was breathing heavily, short breaths and waiting for a reaction. He knew, as soon as he'd said it, it was wrong, but Kurt was getting on his last nerve. He wasn't gay, dammit!
"Are you finished?" Kurt asked quietly. Finn nodded quickly.
"Good. Then I want to explain some things." Kurt hadn't looked up since Finn first said faggy. He looked up, tears threatening to spill over.
"I'm gay, okay Finn? I'm gay, I've always known I'm gay, I'm never going to be ashamed that I'm gay, and I will never put anyone else down for being gay.
It's not a choice, Finn. Do you not think if I could choose who I love, I would? Do you think, if I wasn't gay, I'd let people call me faggy without so much as a second glance?"
One tear spilled over Kurt's cheek, making a wet trail down his cheek. He didn't bother to try and conceal it.
Kurt walked over to the lamp, his so-called-step-brother had pointed out. He picked it up, and surveyed it.
"So you think this is faggy...right?" At that moment, he dropped the ceramic lamp by his feet, making it shatter. "And this is faggy too...right?" He pointed over to the privacy partitioner. He held one hand over it's frame, stroked it with his thumb, before throwing the offending item across the room.
"Kurt..."
"Are these faggy? And this?" He held the drapes in his hands before yanking them from the ceiling, tearing them like sugar paper. He held up the couch blanket. "Too faggy for you, Finn? Too gay? Too much like me?"
He walked to his vanity, and opened a drawer. He pulled out some scissors, and stabbed a hole in the blanket, and dropped it to the floor like it'd burnt him. The scissors remained in his hand. He put the blade to his palm, but it didn't penetrate the skin.
"I've heard so many stories, of gay people being thrown out of their family, just because of loving the same sex. So many stories of those same people commiting suicide because their own family hates them," Kurt pressed the scissors into the skin of his wrist, "would this make it easier for you, Finn? I wouldn't be here for you to feel ashamed anymore. Wouldn't be here to make you feel uncomfortable anymore, would I, Finn?"
Finn was dumbstruck. He couldn't think of what to say to his on the verge of insane step-brother.
"Kurt...listen to me, I..."
"No Finn, you listen." He took the scissors away from his wrist and dropped them on the floor. Finn could see that thankfully, he had not cut himself in his rage. "You've said your piece, now I want to say mine.
This is my house, Finn. This is my room. I was here first. And you, have the arrogance to say that this is, YOUR room? What do you think I do in my room Finn, spy on you? Do you think I have some webcams hidden in the bathroom? Do I repulse you that much?"
Kurt's tears were free falling now. He wiped away the first few but they kept falling down his porcelain cheeks. That's exactly what he was right now. A porcelain doll, that was just waiting to be broken.
"You don't repulse me Kurt, I was just saying, I'm not like you..."
"Of course you're not. You're on the football team," Kurt chuckled to himself, "you're the quaterback, the star. You're the cute one that every girl falls for, but only one is allowed you. You're the one, who is always sweet to people, who could never do wrong to his friends."
Finn's eyes were widening by the second. He hated himself for drawing himself into this in the first place, calling Kurt's stuff faggy. Now, Kurt's room was strewn across the floor angrily, and Kurt's words were crushing his heart every second.
"It doesn't matter, Finn. Because I will always be the fag, falling for guys I can't have. So called perving on my own step brother. You think that whilst you were here, I tried to look at you when you were less than decent?"
"I'm in Lima Ohio, I'm not trying to get into anyones pants. I'm trying to feel loved by someone who isn't my dad or Mercedes. Trying to be accepted anywhere in this god-forsaken town. I thought I had found that in you, Finn. I thought I could become friends with you, someone who stood up for me against his own best friend, when you probably didn't know my name. I just want to feel like I'm wanted here. Like I'm loved."
Here it goes, Kurt thought. He took a deep, shaky breath, and forced himself onwards.
"Because that's what it was, Finn. I love you, okay? I never expected to escalate from friendship, I never wanted it to. But whenever I was with you, I felt so alive, so amazing, so...loved. Like I meant something to someone, to anyone, who would listen." He laughed whilst letting out a sob. "And you listened. You listened better than Mercedes, than Tina or Artie, listened better than my Dad. And I felt loved."
Finn was dumbstruck, once again. He looked at his shoes. Kurt saw his discomfort.
"And I'm sorry, if I ever made you feel uncomfortable. If I ever made you feel, I don't know, loved?" The bitterness in Kurt's voice was present and thriving on his rant.
"Call me a fag all you want, Finn. Put me in dumpsters, throw pee balloons at me. You remember them times, right? And still, I find it safer near you than in my own home. I trusted you, Finn, not to say it. But I suppose you're right."
Kurt's legs gave way as he fell to the ground on his knees, letting ceramic pieces cut into his knees and palms.
"I guess I belong on the ground with the rest of these faggy things, just waiting to get stomped on and broken once more."
"Kurt, I..." Finn reached out a hand, but Kurt cowered away from him.
"Don't touch me."
"Kurt..."
"I said don't touch me!" Kurt screamed across the room. Finn retreated his hand to his side, hurt playing on his face.
"Just go Finn."
"Kurt, I'm..."
"Just go. Leave me here with the rest of the fags, like you and your cronies have done time and time again. Just leave me alone!"
Kurt was full-time sobbing right now, his hands covered with cuts and blood from the broken lamp, his fingers smearing blood on his cheeks when he wiped his tears. He heard Finn's footsteps step around him to go towards the stairs.
"I'm so sorry, Kurt."
He bit his lip. His sobs were getting hysterical, he just wanted Finn to leave so he could cry on his own. He heard Finn's footsteps treading onto the stairs, and he heard Finn close the door behind him. Kurt bit his lip to stop the tears falling for at least a minute. He heard voices upstairs.
"Mom?"
"Yes honey?"
"I can't stay here."
"What? Why not?"
"...Kurt doesn't want me around."
"What do you mean?"
"I screwed up, Mom."
Kurt's tears failed to retreat. They spilled down his cheeks as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, grinding his hands into the carpet as pieces of ceramic went further into his palms. He cried out as he heard voices upstairs become louder and more threatening. He needed the noise to stop, it was just so loud. He just needed to hear himself think.
He lifted his fingers to his face, and pressed them on his cheeks, lifted his knees and stood, walking limply to his bathroom. He closed the door silently and locked it.
Kurt dropped to the bathroom floor, smearing blood over the tiles. His head leaned against the bath, where he proceded to close his eyes. He was exhausted, and he let a darkness envelop him.
"I screwed up, Mom."
"What did you do, Finn?"
"I...I called Kurt a fag. But I didn't mean it like that, I called the blanket faggy, not him. He got pissed, starting trashing his room. Saying stuff like maybe if he cut his wrists, killed himself, I would feel better about myself. Mom, he's so hurt. I can't do anything about it, and I'm so sorry Mom, I will make this better, I'm sorry..." Finn hugged his mother and cried into her shoulder.
Carole could not believe what she was hearing. Using that word, against someone who would be his step-brother?
"You will go down there, and sort this out. Right now. Right now, Finn Hudson!" Carole yelled at her son. She'd knew he was the most popular kid in school, and she knew most popular kids were jerks. She just didn't believe Finn would be one of those jerks, hurting his friends.
"Mom...I...Could you go down there first? Check if he's okay? Because if he's done anything stupid and I see it first...I won't be able to live with myself Mom. Please, Mom."
Carole stepped away from her son, and headed towards the basement door. She knocked, and when she heard no reply, she barged in.
"Kurt?"
She scoured his room with a glance, and realised that yes, her son had been telling the truth when he said Kurt trashed the room. Carole tore the covers from the bed, finding no 16 year old beneath them. She glanced over the room with confusion, until she saw the closed bathroom door.
"Kurt? Are you in here?"
There was no answer. She knocked on the door, louder with each rap of her knuckles, and there was still no answer.
"Kurt, I'm coming in there!"
Carole twisted the door handle, to find it was locked. She called up to her son on the floor above.
"Finn! Get down here! Help me get the door open!"
They pushed and pulled the door, jimmying the lock until it sprang open, to reveal a state of the bathroom floor, surrounding a very unconcious 16 year old.
"Oh my god..."
Blood was surrounding Kurt's waist and head area, blood over his fingers and his face. Pieces of ceramic clattered on the floor as Carole picked up Kurt's lifeless hand to find a pulse.
She waited and waited and waited, trying to find even the faintest quiver of blood circulating.
Carole was beside herself. Desperately trying to find even a slither of life in the boy before her. She smiled a sad grin when she found the pulse, beating rapidly under her fingertips.
"Kurt...please wake up. Stay with me. Please. Finn...call 911, he may be okay but the amount of blood here is...not good."
Finn whimpered, then made a mad dash up the stairs to the phone, and started describing what had happened, perhaps in a little bit less detail. He ran back downstairs but stayed silent as he looked upon his mother and step-brother. Well, hopefully his step-brother.
"Kurt...you're gonna be okay. We just want to check you're okay. We'll get you help."
She overturned his hand in hers, looking for the source of blood. She gasped as she saw deeps cuts all over his palms and fingers. There were too many to count, and even some white ceramic still stuck inside the wounds.
"Finn...get be a clean towel. And how did he get these cuts?"
Finn found a towel from his closet and rushed to Carole's side. She wrapped the towel around Kurt's wrist and gently around his hand. Finn gulped, and opened his mouth.
"He...he dropped the lamp. T-Then, he dropped to the floor, saying he belongs on the floor, with the rest of the, the f-fags. He was grinding his hands into the lamp." Finn shed a tear. "I'm sorry, Mom." He gasped out.
"Call Burt. You can explain to him once he's here, and then we'll get our stuff, and go back to our house. You're not staying here when Kurt feels so bad with you around."
Finn sobbed next to her. Carole looked at her son in confusion.
"He didn't f-feel bad with me a-around. He...he loved me. He was in l-love with me. It was me who felt bad. A-and I lashed out." Finn buried his face in his hand and cried hysterically. He mumbled over and over, "I'm sorry Kurt, I'm sorry" to himself as they heard the ambulance sirens getting louder.
Carole looked in shock at the boy sobbing next to her. She turned to look at the unconcious boy lying on the floor of his bathroom. Kurt was supposed to feel safe in his own room, not like he wasn't worth anything. He was just looking for someone who loved him.
Carole shed her own tear.
"Call Burt, Finn. Tell him Kurt's hurt, and we'll meet him at the hospital."
Finn gasped his tears aside, looking up at his mother with red-rimmed eyes. He looked down and nodded. Shakily rising to his feet, he walked up the steps to the ground floor, just as the ambulance arrived.
Carole felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned around to see the paramedics behind her, trying to get to Kurt. She moved back slowly, letting the EMT's do their job. Kurt was put on a stretcher quickly and hurried up the stairs to the ambulance. Carole followed, shouting for a hysterical Finn, gasping down the phone "I'm sorry Burt".
"Finn, say to Burt we'll meet him at the hospital, we have to get going!"
Finn spoke, nodded and put the phone down, following his mother to the ambulance.
Mother and son sat by Kurt's stretcher, waiting for when the doctors would take Kurt away to have stitches, x-rays or whatever else they were going to do to him.
Finn kept his eyes on Kurt the entire ride. He desperately wanted to apologise to Kurt, but he knew that the soprano would probably never forgive him. Finn didn't deserve forgiveness after this. He deserved to be thrown out to the kerb, sleeping in a bus shelter for at least the next 10 years. The taller boy felt terrible, tears dripping down his cheeks painfully slowly. He couldn't believe that he would drive someone to this much hurt, let alone someone like Kurt. Finn wanted to curl up and die.
Carole kept watch on both the boys. She saw the tears running down Finn's cheeks, how her son kept looking at Kurt's bloodied hands and his blood stained face. Carole had earlier worked out that he wasn't actually bleeding from his face, thank god. She smiled sadly at how irritated Kurt would be if he got a scar on his pale face. Her sad smile died just as her tears were born.
The ambulance came to a stop and the paramedics took Kurt out before running him through to the wards.
Burt was waiting anxiously in the parking lot, looking around for his girlfriend, her son and his own, injured son. He saw a boy being taken out of an ambulance and rushed through the hospital doors. A teary eyed pair followed out of the ambulance soon after. He realised who the pair were, and rushed over.
"What's going on? Why is Kurt hurt? What happened?"
Burt was franticly waiting for answers, but the reply was just a crying Finn, and then his crying mother collapsing into his arms.
"I'm sorry Burt, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Burt, I'm sorry..."
Her mantra was cut off as Burt pulled back, looking at her questioningly.
"Finn...he...they had an argument. Finn said a bad thing about Kurt. Kurt went off the deep end. He smashed up his room, cutting his hands badly. He collapsed in his bathroom." Carole's eyes teared up as she whispered to Burt, "I'm so sorry."
Burt's eyes widened throughout the story. Looking up at Finn as if someone had just kicked his puppy, which metaphorically, had just happened. Finn silently sobbed behind his mother's back, refusing to look into Burt's eyes. He knew he would be faced with an angry, red-faced Burt. He whispered after his mother.
"I'm sorry Burt, I'm so sorry."
Burt shook his head tearily. He didn't want to know about what Finn had said earlier.
"I just want to find my son right now. We'll talk later."
The trio found their way to Kurt's room after quarter of an hour after getting lost because of the state of panic, rushing through the hallways until they came to a stop outside room 231. They saw Kurt, still unconcious, with a Doctor at his side and with a Nurse taking blood from out his arm. The doctor had bandages next to him as he was cleaning up the wounds, removing any more ceramic from the slices through Kurt's hand.
Finn still sobbed silently behind the mechanic. Burt knocked the door and stepped inside the room, looking at his son before explaining who he was and what the hell he was doing in this room.
"He's my son."
Kurt looked like he was sound asleep, apart from the wires heading to his heart and a blood pressure gauge attached around his bicep. He was shirtless but still had his pants on, flinching a little when the needle went through the muscle in his arm, although he was still unconcious. The doctor finished pulling out pieces of broken lamp, and started to bandage up the wounds. There was no need for stitches in his left hand, the doctor observed, before he started on the bandages. He gently wrapped the cotton fibres around Kurt's pale palm.
"He's still unconcious Mr...Hummel? He hasn't had a serious allergic reaction or a heart malfunction, he has just passed out, his heart rate is normal, pulse is high. We're taking some blood tests to see if we know why. Do you know if he has a phobia of blood, that could have caused him to faint?"
Burt looked at the doctor incredulously. He shook his head.
The doctor nodded before looking at the blood pressure gauge. He sighed.
"His blood pressure is high. It's most likely he was suffering from stress at the time. Is there anything stressful going on in his life right now?"
"He's a teenager, that whole period of time is stressful."
"True, but Mr Hummel, there must have been something that has recently happened that has caused this. It could be the reasons for the wounds on his hands." The doctor stood and went to the other side of the bed, ready to clean up and bandage Kurt's right hand.
"These aren't accidental cuts, Mr Hummel. They look like they've been forced in and twisted whilst they're there. They haven't severed anything critical except muscle, and they won't need stitches now, they're already clotting. Why would pieces of ceramic end in your son's fingers?"
Burt glared at the doctor. Frickin' know it all, Burt thought venomously.
"He had an argument with his stepbrother. My son got angry and broke a lamp, and he must have fallen or dropped to the ground. Finn wouldn't hurt Kurt like this, he never would. And I'm not going to press charges or anything against my step-son, I just want my son to be awake, to tell me he's feeling amazing, so we can go home and sort it out ourselves, got it?"
The doctors eyes widened and he nodded quickly before going back to his work on the male diva's hands.
"Will Kurt be okay, Mom?"
"I hope so, Finn, I hope so."
another chapter after this one. i hate writing sad fics, but it seems to be the only fic i can write at the moment.
but at the moment, my life is far from sad. i don't even know what's up with my brain. maybe if i'm really sad i'll write a happy fic, i don't know.
i'm writing the next chapter whilst waiting for RHGS to air. it's been too long between episodes! rocky horror glee show, here we come!
