Chapter 2 Silly question, smart answer
Kurt sits on the cot in the nurse's office, staring at the full-sized mirror on the opposite wall.
He wonders why that thing is in here, what kinda purpose it serves. It's not like this is a dressing room. Then again, he doesn't really care, but it gives him something to do while he is waiting for his Dad to pick him up.
He doesn't want to be here. Of course, he doesn't. And after what he did, he feels like he doesn't deserve be cared for. But Nurse Walsh doesn't take no for an answer. Unlike Mr. Schuster's ex-wife she is a real nurse who takes her job very seriously. A simple "I'm fine" doesn't work on her.
Neither does the opposite.
Predictably, some students tried to test her in the beginning, without success. She isn't fooled easily, especially not by bad excuses. She does this weird thing, where she looks at you like she is reading your mind or something. Which is impossible, sure, but somehow she always seems to know if you are lying or not.
Under normal circumstances, Kurt wouldn't have put his theory to a test. But today all bets are off. He tries his best to convince her that he doesn't need rest or his father to come and pick him up, but he fails miserably. She insists in a firm tone that he has to stay in the office for her return or his father's arrival. Whichever comes first.
So Kurt just sits there, staring at himself in the mirror.
Sure, he always takes pride in his physical appearance. Some may say he is spending too much time and effort, not to mention too much money, on his looks. But hey, what's wrong about taking care of oneself? Just because he is a guy doesn't mean he has to be an unwashed, unkempt pig. The jocks may think it's an attractive look, but Kurt certainly disagrees. But that still doesn't mean he is obsessively vain.
Okay, maybe a little bit.
For the umpteenth time Kurt examines his reflection, still coming up with the same conclusion.
He looks like crab.
And he feels like it, too. But for some reason he is not hungry anymore. The physical weakness he felt the entire day, actually for the last two weeks, is gone. He feels strong and healthy. He wonders if it's just temporary. Or maybe a fluke. But for now he takes it for what it is. A blessing.
Nevertheless, he still thinks he looks terrible. His hair is disheveled and his clothes are wrinkled. On the other hand, he has to admit that his complexion has never been anywhere near this perfect. He is still pale but his skin certainly looks different. It seems to practically glow with health and vitality, like he just had one of those expensive treatments at the spa downtown, the ones he can only afford every once in a while.
Sure, he is pleasantly surprised. But he is also freaked, because he has no explanation for the sudden change. Well, at least, none that makes any sense. Just this morning he discovered a small pimple on his chin and now it's completely gone. Like it has never been there in the first place, or miraculously disappeared.
And there is more.
His eyes are different.
Depending on his mood, and the light, their color usually varies from murky blue to stormy grey. But right now they are bright blue. Almost luminescent. And he seems to be able see more clearly. Not that he's ever been in the need for glasses. But he is sitting a few feet away from the mirror, and he can see every detail so clearly like he was standing right in front of it.
It is strange and confusing.
What's happening to him? Are the sudden changes a result of the attack? Kurt doubts this was a normal reaction to a kiss. But what else could be the reason?
Suddenly Kurt is pulled out of his musing. Heavy footsteps, accompanied by lighter ones, echo through the hallway. They stop right in front of the nurse's office.
"What happened to my son?"
Kurt immediately recognizes the voice. It's loud and demanding, yet warm and full of concern. His Dad is here.
"I don't know for sure." Nurse Walsh replies. She sounds concerned too, but her voice is much more composed. She might be strict, but not heartless. In fact, her bed side manners are remarkable. She always seems to know what to say and how to say it. Never being too condescending, or too rude, simply adapting herself to the situation at hand. It's a remarkable gift.
Something is weird, though. His Dad and Nurse Walsh are still on the other side of the door, but Kurt can hear them perfectly. Maybe because all classes are still in session, and therefore it's quiet in the hallway. Or maybe something more than his outer appearance has changed. But for now he doesn't dwell on it. Instead he concentrates on listening in.
"All I know is that something went down in boys' locker room." She continues, quickly adding, "But they are both fine. Kurt and David."
"David, who?" Of course his father doesn't know the name. Kurt has never mentioned him or anybody else. Of course, he hasn't. His father has enough on his plate as it is. Like keeping his auto shop running, and making sure every bill gets paid on time. He doesn't need to know that his son gets bullied, even if it happens on a daily basis. Kurt can handle it. Well, kinda.
"David Karofsky. He is on the football team. Tall and burly, and as far as I know in perfect physical condition. But apparently I was wrong. But then again the flu is currently going around. Nothing serious, but it might explain why David suddenly fainted."
"What happened?" His father repeats his earlier question, sounding all different now. Still concerned, but somewhat apprehensive, almost like he knows something. But that can't be. Or can it?
"Maybe you'd better ask your son …" Nurse Walsh suggests, before pressing the handle and opening the door.
Kurt flinches. Not in pretence for hiding the fact that he has been in fact eavesdropping, but for real. Actually, he wants to run and hide, far away so he doesn't have to deal with the alarmed look on his father's face.
Sure, he has seen that look before. But that was a long time ago, and under completely different circumstances. Every kid probably knows this kind of look – that mix of shock, fear and realization. The last time Kurt was confronted with that look was when he was ten. He was playing dress up and his father caught him, wearing one of his late mother's dresses and far too much make-up. But instead of yelling at him, his father pulled him into a fierce hug. He reassured his son that he wasn't mad or disappointed. After that they had a long heart to heart, talking about Kurt's sexuality and what it meant.
His father is still somewhat afraid for him, but he long since accepted the fact that Kurt is gay.
The alarmed look his father is wearing now is a little different though. It's not mere worry about his son's wellbeing, but worry in general. Like Kurt's condition, or whatever it is, poses a threat or something to other people.
Kurt swallows hard. His stomach congeals like a frozen lump, and there is a ringing in his ears. Kurt knows the signs. He is close to having a panic attack. He should be used to them by now, having them for years, ever since his mother died. But they still scare the crap out of him.
His father knows. He knows what it is wrong with him. And he is afraid. Afraid of his own son.
Kurt feels dizzy, sick to his stomach, barely noticing that someone is talking to him. It's Nurse Walsh. She asks him if he is okay. Kurt nods numbly and gets on his feet, barely catching himself from stumbling. Once again he is trembling like a leaf. He mumbles a quick thank-you and goodbye to the nurse, grabs his bag and practically runs from the office.
His father catches up with him on the parking lot. Kurt hands him the keys to his Navigator without being asked. It's better this way. He is too anxious and far too unstable to drive himself.
His Dad doesn't comment. He simply takes the keys and gets behind the wheel, only waits until Kurt finishes fastening his seat belt, and then he starts the car.
The drive home is silent.
Silent and uncomfortable.
Kurt can tell that his father wants to say something, but going by the way he is shifting in his seat and glancing at him every now and then, it's obvious that he is struggling to find the right words. And since Kurt isn't in the mood to talk, he doesn't push his Dad, like he normally does, when he acts this way. Right now, for the first time ever, Kurt is afraid of what he might say or ask.
Traffic is light at this time of hour and they make it home in record time. As soon as his father parks his car in the driveway, Kurt is out, making a beeline for the house. All he wants right now is to escape, to get to his room, maybe throw up, and then crawl into his bed and never come out, ever again.
But his Dad manages to stop him just before he reaches the stairs.
"Stop it right there. We really need to talk, Son." His voice is calm and steady, but Kurt can still detect a slight tremor. It's hard to tell what's causing it. Shortness of breath, dread or simple determination to get to the bottom of things. Probably a combination of all three.
Even though he wants nothing more than to leave and hide in his room, Kurt knows his Dad won't let him go until he tells him something. And quite frankly, he can't just brush him off. He loves and respects his Dad too much to treat him this way. He owns him an answer, some sort of explanation. With a sigh he turns around, facing his Dad.
"Karofsky cornered me. We were … um … arguing. And then he …" Kurt stops midsentence. Well, more like mid sob. He can tell he is close to losing it. And sure, crying would be a relief, but also a clear sign of how much he is freaked out by all this. And he can't have that. And he can't tell his father the truth. He just can't. "… and then he just collapsed."
"But that's not all." It's a statement as well as an accusation. Clearly, his dad knows that he is keeping something important from him. He eyes him for a moment, or two, gaging his son's reaction. But Kurt stays silent. He can tell his Dad wants to push it, to make him talk, but then he simply concedes with a sigh. "Fine, if you don't want to talk to me, maybe you'll talk to somebody else. I'm going to call Eli."
Kurt is completely taken aback.
He hasn't seen his uncle in years. In fact, he hasn't seen or heard from him since his mother's funeral. Why does his Dad think he will talk to Eli but not to him? Sure, his uncle is a great guy. Smart and funny, and very insightful. And given that he is bisexual he is certainly someone who can relate to Kurt's issues. Well at least some of them. But this? How can he be of assistance with this? Dropping a guy with the touch of his lips? It's … freaky.
"Fine." Kurt agrees, but only to appease his Dad. "Can I go to my room now?"
"Sure. Go ahead."
Without another word Kurt turns and bolts.
As soon as the door to his room closes behind him, Kurt brakes down.
He starts crying, hard, his body shaking uncontrollably with tremors. Keeping his emotions bottled up never works for him. He always brakes down sooner or later, but only when he is alone. Letting people see how much things get to, how fragile he truly is – emotionally speaking – that's just something he tries to avoid at all costs. And mostly he succeeds.
Kurt knows his Dad would go after Karofsky if he knew that the jock practically forced himself on his son. But then again, maybe he would be the one in trouble if his Dad knew what happened afterwards. And it's not like he'd put up much of a fight. In fact, he'd enjoyed it. More than he likes to admit.
The thought makes him sick. How could he enjoy being kissed by the boy he hates? With a groan of self-disgust he gets on his feet, shedding his clothes as he goes into his bathroom.
He desperately needs a hot shower. He feels dirty. For more than one reason.
The shower doesn't really help, though. Kurt is still shaking when he leaves his bathroom to put on fresh underwear and a clean t-shirt. He is still feeling sick. And there are still tears running down his face. In one word – his emotions are still in turmoil. Sniffling, he crawls into his bed, pulling the thick blanket over his head.
Maybe, when he wakes up, this whole day will turn out to be nothing but a bad dream.
Maybe.
Kurt is woken from a light slumber by a soft knock on his door.
"Come in." He mumbles. His voice is hoarse from sleep and all the crying. He barely slept an hour.
The door opens and a dark haired guy pokes his head into the room. "Hey, gorgeous."
"Uncle Eli." Kurt greets back, rubbing his eyes. He slowly sits up in his bed, having no intention to leave it just yet.
"Please don't call me uncle. It sounds like I'm old and creepy. And I'm neither. Just call me Eli." His uncle insists, more or less playfully, stepping inside the room, closing the door behind him. And he has a point. Eli still looks like he was in his mid twenties, even though he has to be close to forty, considering his parents' age. Lucky guy.
"Okay. Eli." Kurt replies, grumpily.
Eli simply ignores his disrespectful behavior. Instead he saunters over to Kurt's desk, pulls the chair around to face the bed and takes a seat. "Wow, look at you. You've really grown into yourself."
"If you say so." Kurt shrugs.
"So your father tells me something happened in school today. Wanna talk about it?" Eli asks, getting right to the point. And why shouldn't he? After all, Kurt has made it very clear that he isn't in the mood for chitchat.
"Not really. But since I know he specifically called you to talk to me, I don't have another choice, do I?"
"You always have a choice. No one can force you to do anything." Eli states with utter conviction.
"Right." Kurt scoffs. "Like some jock, who successfully has been hiding his secret crush from me and everybody else by pushing me around, throwing slushies at me and calling me names, only to end up pressing me against a locker and kissing me against my will? Yeah, no one is forcing me to do anything."
"I'm sorry about that. I really am. But it makes sense."
"What makes sense?" Kurt frowns.
"Considering what you are, I'm surprised he didn't act on his feelings earlier. It was bound to happen sooner or later. This jock, whoever he is, didn't stand a chance."
"So, it's true then. I'm truly a freak." Kurt exclaims, throwing up his arms.
"You are not a freak." Eli retorts, passionately. "What you are is fae."
"Fae? As in fairy? How is that any better?" Kurt snaps back.
"Not a fairy." Eli says, rolling his eyes. "Fae. It's the name of our species. Like homo sapiens."
"So what, I'm not human?"
"No, you are not. You are a succubus. Like me." He states proudly, his eyes blazing bright blue.