AN: thank you all for the kind reviews! It's funny, I got absolutely no replies on the Kurtofsky_fic community on LJ... Anyway, you guys are awesome :3
Disclaimer: 'You Raise Me Up' is © of Rolf Løvland and Brendan Graham. I'm basing this mostly on the Josh Groban version.
Chapter Two
Glee club that day was... interesting, to say the least. Mr. Shuester opened the class by welcoming Kurt back to school.
"Guys, let's all give Kurt a warm round of welcome-back applause," he smiled, "and let's hope his arm heals well and that nothing like this ever happens again."
"I heard they expelled Karofsky," Tina said, leaning over Mike's lap to sign Kurt's cast.
"No, he's back at school," Finn said, anger evident in his voice. "They only suspended him for like, two days. I don't know why they let him back, he could have killed Kurt. We really should –"
"Calm down, Finn," Kurt said, trying not to move too much as Brittany leaned in over his shoulder to add her drawings to his cast. "Karofsky actually isn't to blame this particular time. He really didn't push me that hard. It was the open locker door that caused my radius bone to snap like a matchstick. You guys all know I'm light-boned. And Karofsky's making up for it now by driving me around and carrying my bag and everything. Brittany, why are you drawing wings on that dog?"
"It's not a dog, it's a unicorn," Brittany said brightly, adding a horn next. "San, where's my pink glitter pen?"
"You mean you now have Karofsky as your personal slave until your arm is better?" Santana laughed, handing Brittany her pencil case so the blonde could dig out her sparkly pens.
"Not his personal slave, Santana," Mr. Shuester said, looking amused, "but certainly he's going to help Kurt. And while the faculty will be watching him, I'd like all you guys," he included the whole Glee club in his hand gesture, "to feel free to keep your eyes open for Kurt's benefit as well. We don't think Karofsky is going to try anything, but it never hurts to have extra eyes."
Kurt flushed, unused to being under such close scrutiny. "You guys don't have to –"
"You're our boy, though," Puck said in his usual overconfident manner, sitting sprawled half-out of a chair with his hands behind his head. "We gotta look out for you.
"Puck's right," Rachel said, and Finn nodded next to her. "Karofsky could take advantage of having you alone, Kurt."
"I don't know 'bout you guys," Mercedes said, draping her arm around Kurt's uninjured shoulder, "but if that beef-bag hurts my boy again, I'm gonna lay the smack down on him, jock or no jock."
"Good," Mr. Shuester smiled shamelessly as everyone laughed. "Now, what are we doing today?"
"Mr. Shue," Tina stepped forward. "We all put together a number while Kurt was at the hospital. We'd like to perform it for him now."
"Awesome, you guys." Mr. Shuester smiled, vacating the floor. "Take it away."
Everyone stood up and arranged themselves at the front of the class, leaving Kurt sitting shocked in his seat. Mr. Shuester sat next to him as the violin and strings began, followed by the piano.
Artie sang first:
"When we are down, and oh, our souls so weary
When troubles come, and our hearts burdened be
Then we are still, and wait here in the silence
Until you come, and sit awhile with us."
Rachel sang the first chorus:
"You raise us up, so we can stand on mountains
You raise us up, to walk on stormy seas
We are strong, when we are on your shoulders
You raise us up, to more than we can be."
Kurt's eyes began to shine as the strings and piano continued the traditional Irish tune, with Puck on guitar. He'd always loved this song, in all its versions.
Santana took center stage this time, singing more affectionately than Kurt had ever heard her:
"You raise us up, so we can stand on mountains
You raise us up, to walk on stormy seas
We are strong, when we are on your shoulders
You raise us up, to more than we can be."
A moment of silence; Kurt held his breath for the crescendo when they all sang:
"You raise us up, so we can stand on mountains
You raise us up, to walk on stormy seas
We are strong, when we are on your shoulders
You raise us up, to more than we can be."
Mercedes took the higher lines:
"You raise us up, so we can stand on mountains
You raise us up, to walk on stormy seas."
And Finn sang the last solo:
"We are strong, when we are on your shoulders.
You raise us up, to more than we can be."
Together, the whole Glee club sang the last line to Kurt, accompanied by the quiet piano:
"You raise us up ... to more than we ... can be."
Kurt let his tears fall freely as the violin finished the haunting tune. He wished he could applaud the touching performance, but he couldn't clap with his still-tender arm. Mr. Shuester did it for him, praising the Glee club on their choice of song. "Amazing job, guys, very well done. I'm proud of you."
"Kurt," Quinn came forward to put her hands gently on Kurt's shaking shoulders. "You are an inspiration to us all, standing up to the world and always being unafraid to show who you are. You raise us up. We all love you."
"Yeah, you're also pretty awesome for letting Karofsky redeem himself," Artie said, wheeling forward to lightly punch Kurt in the shoulder. "Not everyone would have the decency to give him another chance."
"We're still gonna look out for you, though," Sam grinned as he and Quinn sat down.
"Thanks, you guys," Kurt smiled tearfully as everyone resumed their seats. "Thank you."
-:-
Standing just outside the choir room, Dave Karofsky had to agree that Kurt really was pretty decent for giving him a second chance. And that the Gleeks were pretty awesome singers. The song had moved him more than he'd care to admit, as had Kurt's emotional reaction. He resolved to look that song up and maybe listen to it again sometime.
Meanwhile, he shook himself and set off for the boys' locker room gym, where he proceeded to work out and lift weights until his mind was pleasantly empty.
Kurt left the choir room with Mercedes hot on his heels, eager to have a chat with Karofsky before she left Kurt alone with him. Kurt wanted to roll his eyes at her over-protectiveness, but he had to admit that it was nice to have her looking out for him.
Karofsky was leaning against Kurt's locker with his jacket slung over one shoulder and his backpack sitting on the floor. Kurt opened his mouth to say "Hi," but Mercedes moved to stand before him, between Karofsky and himself. Karofsky raised his eyebrows at her, undaunted. And then Mercedes opened her mouth.
"So you better treat my boy right," she finished after a five-minute-long rant about all the wrongs Karofsky and the rest of the jocks had ever done Kurt and the members of the Glee club, "because if you don't, I'm only gonna be the first of ten people coming to beat the crap outta you." She snapped her fingers and nodded with finality, then turned to leave. "Seeya tomorrow, Kurt!"
Karofsky looked like he was torn between being scared and amused as Mercedes walked away. He turned to Kurt and jerked his thumb at Mercedes' retreating back. "Is she for real?"
Kurt chuckled as he opened his locker to deposit a few books. He wondered at how unafraid he suddenly was with Karofsky. "Mercedes is a diva, but she did mean that last part. The whole Glee club now has my back, and you never know what kind of illegal shenanigans Puck might pull. Rachel can be pretty scary too, but in a crazy way rather than anything particularly badass."
Karofsky huffed as he took Kurt's bookbag, looking almost offended as they walked out to the parking lot. "They can all back off, you know," he said sullenly as they climbed into his truck. "I'm not gonna do anything to you. I said I'd help, and throwing you in dumpsters is kinda the exact opposite, isn't it?" He backed out of the parking space and drove out of the school campus. "Throwing you into lockers has also kinda lost its appeal now," he added quietly.
"I'm glad to hear that," Kurt said bluntly. He was about to point out that just because Karofsky had suddenly had a change of heart, didn't mean his friends would stop looking out for him, when the truck's engine emitted a strange, shuddering noise.
"Damnit," Karofsky cursed. "It's been making that noise for a couple of weeks now, my dad and I have no idea what's causing it. It's not handling uphills too good, either."
"It sounds like the gearbox," Kurt said instantly and with authority, making Karofsky turn to look at him in surprise. "Seriously, the ECM might be off; you should take it to be reprogrammed."
"The what?"
"ECM," Kurt explained, "the engine control module. It's the computer that determines the amount of fuel, ignition timing, and other parameters an internal combustion engine needs to keep running."
"Right," Karofsky snorted. "And what would you know about car engines, Fancy?"
"Don't call me that," Kurt snapped. "I'll have you know that my father owns a mechanic shop. And I've been working in it since I was nine, so be careful who you judge, Karofsky. I could take an engine apart and put it back together faster than you could finish a can of root beer," he finished savagely.
Karofsky laughed then. "Seriously, man? I can't imagine you as a grease monkey."
"Well, there's more to me than meets the eye, you know," Kurt huffed. He was strangely proud of his mechanic skills, almost as proud as he was of his vocal range or his extensive knowledge of musicals and show tunes. "Schedule an appointment at my dad's shop sometime and you might even get to see me in action," he said haughtily, taking a business card – he'd designed them himself, very elegant and even manly enough that his father had been impressed – out of his wallet and sticking it into one of the air conditioning vents on the dashboard.
They arrived at the Hummels' house then, so Kurt got out of the truck (a 2005 Toyota Tacoma, he was sure of it now) and closed the door with somewhat more force than was strictly necessary.
"Hey, Hummel," Karofsky had rolled down the passenger side window to shout after him. Kurt turned back silently, one eyebrow raised. "I've got something to do at school tomorrow morning – I'll pick you up at 7:30. Just telling you now, in case you need an extra hour to do your hair and make-up in the morning."
"Fine," Kurt snarled, turning back to step inside his house. He closed the door and leaned against it, sighing tiredly. Why was he letting Karofsky get to him? Well, to be honest, Karofsky had always gotten to him. All the things the high-school bullies did and said got to him – he just never showed it. He hid behind his flamboyant clothes and his 'I'm better than you' attitude just as much as Karofsky hid behind his bullying and supposed homophobia and his letterman jacket.
It was startling to realize, but the two of them had more in common than anyone would have thought.
"Aaaand, on that disturbing thought..." Kurt shook himself and made his way down to his basement bedroom, hoping that Biology homework would distract him from Karofsky and all the ways in which he now complicated Kurt's life.
Kurt got into Karofsky's truck at 7:30 the next morning, still annoyed with him for yesterday's comments. Karofsky seemed to have grown a few perceptive brain cells overnight, though, since he said nothing but "Morning" as they left Kurt's neighborhood and drove to school. Kurt didn't even spare him a glance as he got out of the car and made his way to homeroom to wait until the first bell. Karofsky looked like he wanted to call something out after him, but stopped at the last second. Kurt tried not to think of what that might mean. Hopefully everything would go back to normal – as normal as things between Karofsky and himself could now be, at least – by the time they drove home after school.
Tina and Mercedes arrived at homeroom ten minutes after him, so Kurt sat chatting with them about P!nk's new single and the latest sales at Macy's and H&M until the first bell rang. Then he realized he'd forgotten to take his Math workbook out of his locker, and made a wild dash for the hallway. He was about to reach for his combination lock when something white caught his eye.
Shoved into one of the slots at the top of his locker was a tiny bouquet of daisies. It was just a few flowers, five or six of them at most, and bound with a rubber band. He looked around the emptying hallways as he took them down, eyes wide in shock. Who on earth would give him flowers? Well, his friends and family had gotten him flowers on the day he'd broken his arm, but who would wait until school to give him fresh-picked flowers? And anonymously, too?
Could I ... maybe ... have a secret admirer? Kurt thought. The silence of the school halls brought him out of his romantic reverie, and he hurriedly grabbed the workbook, shoving the daisies into his locker for now. He'd wonder about them later.
