AN: I am gonna try to keep this AN short as possible. First thing let me just get this out of the way. I don't Own Glee or THE Cranberries. Or "Zombie". Or Dianna Ross or the Supremes or "Someday We'll Be Together.
Here is the chapter that inspired this fic in the first place. ;) And "Someday We'll Be Together" actually inspired this whole story.
I want to take this time to say A HUGE THANK YOU! To my friend umbrella0326. Thank you again for helping co-write this chapter with me. It came out so much better with your help! :D Guys, this chapter was really a team effort. So thanks for also helping me with the ending. You are amazing! :) *hugs*
On to the story, i hope you enjoy! Please review. Please be kind.
Chapter 3
Football bag over his shoulder, Dave strode with a false air of confidence towards the choir room to meet Kurt. He was grateful for Kurt to meet him so quickly. Those pesky texts Dave rapidly sent could've easily gotten on Kurt's nerves. But they didn't. Instead, Kurt recognized how scared Dave really was and felt that it was important to help a fellow gay guy.
But as Dave approached the choir room, a soft voice could be heard, accompanied by a piano. Rounding the corner and stopping just a foot away from the door, Dave came to a complete stop. Inside, Kurt was at the piano, softly singing "Zombie" by The Cranberries. Kurt's voice could've reached Heaven in Dave's opinion. The soft arc of the melody and aching loneliness reached Dave's heart, freezing him in his spot. He simply enjoyed the mezzo-soprano's voice, singing away. Kurt's voice was marvelous.
Kurt:
Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such silence.
Who are we mistaken?
Kurtsings this choice of song because he thinks this how Dave feels about everything going on in his life right now. This song in Kurt's mind fits his friend in so many ways. Not the whole song but some of the lyrics are perfect for Dave Karofsky. This is one Kurt's favorite songs by a band he just discovered not too long ago. It's so beautiful and raw; he can't help but love this song.
But you see, it's not me, it's not my family.
In your head, in your head they are fighting,
with their tanks and their bombs,
and their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are crying…
In your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey.
What's in your head,
in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, Dou, Dou, Dou, Dou, Dou...
Dave goes closer to the door, slightly leaning on the frame. Kurt's angelic voice smashes his brain. The lyrics and Kurt's voice are so poignant that Dave can't move. Oh, the ache in the right guard's heart in that moment! Nothing could've taken his focus away from Kurt Hummel. The stinging song continued...
Another mother's breakin'
Heart is taking over
when the violence causes silence,
we must be mistaken.
It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen.
In your head, in your head they're still fighting,
with their tanks and their bombs,
and their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are dying...
The next part of this song brought out so many questions as to what is going inside Dave's mind. Kurt sang with passion imaging Dave sitting across from him. Kurt stared ahead wanting to say these words to the very guy that trusts him with everything that Kurt had. Kurt is unaware that Dave is just a few feet away outside listening in.
In your head
In your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey.
What's in your head,
in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, hey, oh, ya, ya-a...
The song ended, piano notes slowly ebbing away. Dave still couldn't move, mesmerized by the lyrics, the song choice, Kurt's voice, Kurt's tender piano playing, Kurt's command of the song...Kurt.
Kurt didn't move. Eyes closed, fingers still hovering over keys, he internalized the passionate song to the core of his heart.
But the moment turned into tension when Dave realized he had tears in his eyes, threatening to fall. He didn't understand. He wasn't sad. No. David Karofsky, proud right guard and reformed bully, was MOVED by the song, Moved by Kurt Hummel.
Dave shook his head. He had a job to do.
Dave could barely focus. Lyrics bouncing around in his head sung beautifully became a jumbled mess of angst and passion. Very slowly, Dave pushed off the door's frame and stood erect. Kurt, still meditating after the song came to an end, finally raised his head. His eyes were glazed over, hypnotized.
Finally, reality asserted itself. Just as Dave was about to say something, Kurt jumped a little at seeing Dave standing in the doorway.
"Dave! I didn't know you'd come in."
Kurt shakily said, wiping his face. Kurt wasn't crying, but Dave wondered if he was crying before he arrived.
"Kurt, that was beautiful….."
Dave softly declared. Dave wasn't even bothering to try to hide that he watched Kurt's moving performance. Dave steps slowly inside the choir room stopping by the door hypnotized by the performance, he wasn't aware his feet were moving. He couldn't hide; he always knew Kurt was a wonderful singer but that performance….. It touched something deep within him. He didn't understand why he was so drawn but it didn't matter because this is Kurt Hummel. His voice could do no wrong.
Kurt, hand over his own heart, was so touched by Dave's words the he couldn't help but allow one single tear to fall from his eyes. Embarrassed, Kurt quickly swipes the tear with his quick, angry hands.
He wondered how long Dave had been standing there. Kurt studied Dave over and by the football player's trance like state Kurt knew that Dave had seen enough or maybe the whole performance. Who knew?
Kurt didn't ask. He was too embarrassed to ask. He didn't have to. All Kurt knew was that he could turn into ten different shades of red right now.
Dave wasn't supposed to see this. No one was, Especially Dave. Kurt loves performing in front of a crowed, but this was considered private for Kurt. No one knows that Kurt and Dave are now friends. Good friends.
Dave wasn't imagining it like he thought before-Kurt had definitely been crying. He felt bad and wanted nothing more than to wipe that tear- all tears from this young boy's eyes.
"Thank you"
Kurt bashfully says as he tries to collect himself turning his attention away from Dave heading toward the row of chairs that were perfectly placed for them to sit. Dave hesitates for a moment before he slowly follows Kurt to the row of chairs. He smiles behind Kurt so Kurt couldn't see how that 'thank you' made him truly feel.
The late afternoon sun was the only light in the slightly darkened choir room. Three chair rows adorned the right side of the room and Kurt and Dave were seated in the first row, side-by-side. Nobody was saying anything. Kurt was sitting patiently while Dave twirled his football gear bag in his hand. Pensive thoughts stayed in their minds while words were trying to be found, in their minds.
Kurt chanced a sideways glance at Dave. He didn't like what he saw. Dave looked lost in thought, a frown enveloping his round, full face. Kurt looked back down, still waiting patiently. Finally, Dave spoke.
"He knows…."
Dave said quietly. Kurt turned in his chair to study Dave. Dave's freshly showered face simply looked pale and his damp hair hung heavily.
"Who?"
Kurt asked, concerned.
"Who do you think?"
Dave asked, a little perturbed.
"I'm sorry, Dave. I don't know."
Kurt replied gently.
Dave sighed. He didn't want to say the name out loud, but he knew Kurt was either confused or coaxing Dave to talk. Regardless, Dave was annoyed.
"Az!" Dave exclaimed. "Az knows that I'm….."
Kurt took another moment to study Dave. Suddenly, he came to a conclusion.
"Dave."
Kurt said with authority. Dave turned his head and looked at Kurt.
"Have you even said it to yourself?"
Dave looked at him, confused momentarily. Then, he knew where Kurt was going with this.
"No. Why would I?"
"You'd be surprised how that can help. It…..verifies who you are. It's important, Dave. Trust me."
Kurt twitched his hand, like he wanted to reach over and hold Dave's hand. But he held back. He wasn't sure how to talk to Dave and didn't want to impose of Dave's comfort level. Although they were in a relatively private location, there was a possibility they weren't alone.
"I…." Then, Dave stopped talking. He knew what he wanted to say, what he should say. Kurt egged him on.
"I…."
"Go on, Dave."
Kurt urged, quietly.
Dave looked down at his hands for a moment, so lost in thought.
"Can we change the subject?"
Dave desperately asked.
Suddenly, Kurt shot up out of his chair and marched right up to Dave.
"You say it David Karofsky or so help me God I'll…."
Dave looked up at him defiantly.
"You'll what, Kurt? Stop talking to me?"
Kurt retreated back to his chair and sat down, never taking his eyes off Dave.
"That's not fair, Dave."
"Well, it's not fair to force me to say that I'm gay before I'm ready!" Dave fired back.
A moment passed at they looked angrily at each other. Suddenly, it dawned on them at the same time. Dave had admitted it. Both boys' eyes shot up in surprise and elation. Even from Dave!
Dave smiled. Kurt smiled. Soon, smiles broadened followed by giggles. Uncontrollable laughter filled the air as both boys struggled to not fall on the floor. Waves of relaxation flowed towards Dave and Kurt continued to laugh and laugh.
Dave stopped laughing and watched Kurt.
Kurt had his hand on the floor to prevent his enormous bursts of laughter from forcing him to the floor. Dave found he loved being able to make somebody laugh – especially Kurt. Dave watched Kurt. Gradually, Kurt's laughs came under control and soon, the two boys were just looking at each other, little smiles adorning their faces.
"Dave Karofsky,"
Kurt began, a little grin still on his face,
"I knew you could do it."
Dave just smiled.
But soon, Dave's smile faded. Kurt's did too. They had something important to talk about and Kurt knew it wasn't only the nerve-wracking texts.
"Kurt," Dave gently began, "I'm scared."
Kurt knew this feeling all too well. Lately, his fear had come at the hands of school bullies, but he remembered what it was like to be closeted. He hated it. He couldn't live. Knowing Dave is clearly not ready to come out, he quickly thought of what he should say.
"Why?" Kurt gently began. "The texts?"
Dave sighed before he quietly answered, "Yes."
Kurt reached for his cell phone, reading the anxious texts from Dave again. When he finished the third text, he put his phone in his bag and resolutely turned towards Dave.
"You have nothing to worry about."
Dave's head shot up at Kurt, in absolute disbelief.
"I'm serious, Dave!"
Kurt said, complete with his hand over his heart.
"Azimio knows something is seriously wrong, but doesn't know you're gay."
Dave shook his head.
"Kurt, you don't know him. You don't know him."
Kurt was slightly annoyed.
"OK, enlighten me."
Dave looked at Kurt. He'd never been able to trust anyone with this part of his life until now. He couldn't help but quickly admire Kurt – his meticulous hair, his outrageous fashion sense, his prissy manners and posture. Dave quickly hid a smirk before coming back to reality.
"I just know him, Kurt." Dave began with a heavy sigh.
"He knows. I just know it."
Kurt shifted a little in his seat. He knew he was going to be there a while.
"Dave, this is your anxiety talking."
Dave's eyes narrowed a little, mulling over Kurt's simple statement.
"Dave," Kurt gently began, "Yes, you're scared. And you're scared of anybody else finding out about you. But, in anything I've heard from what happened last Saturday in your basement, Azimio knows nothing."
Dave was silent. He hadn't considered his fears overtaking his rationality. He urged Kurt to continue.
"That's it, Dave."
Kurt said, sitting back confidently.
"He knows something's wrong. That's it."
"That's it, huh?"
Dave replied, looking away, thinking Kurt's words over.
"That's it."
Kurt confirmed, with a cocky smile.
Dave snorted.
"I hope so."
Kurt was annoyed again. "Dave, he's supposed to be your best friend. Would it be so terrible if he fou-"
"Yes!" Dave exclaimed. "It would be a…..disaster."
Kurt just watched Dave. Kurt rotated his hands until they became fists. He didn't know he'd be frustrated with Dave, but completely understood Dave's fears. If it hadn't been for an understanding best friend like Mercedes Jones, Kurt would've struggled coming out. He knew that. But Dave's best friend would turn his back. At a time when Dave needed him, too. Kurt snorted in disgust.
That got Dave's attention. And, unfortunately, Dave misunderstood it.
"I'm sorry, Kurt."
Dave whispered.
"I don't want to disappoint you."
"Dave, you're not."
And this time, Kurt chose to finally close the gap between them and placed his hand on top of Dave's. Dave looked down at Kurt's hand, simply sitting on top of Dave's. He looked up at Kurt, a kind of pride in his eyes, but he wasn't smiling.
"You haven't disappointed me, Dave. If you're right about how Azimio will react, I'm disappointed in him."
Kurt smiled, reassuringly. Dave couldn't have been more grateful.
"It's not…"
Dave began, "It's not that I'm never going to come out." He looked up at Kurt to make sure he still had Kurt's support, which he did, of course. "I just can't do it now."
"Of course, Dave."
And then, Kurt decided to stroke the back of Dave's hand with his thumb. Dave gratefully took Kurt's hand in his and held it. It seemed to help Dave find his inner strength – strength to continue.
"My Dad has been so depressed lately."
Dave said, abruptly changing the subject. Kurt's eyebrows furrowed.
Meanwhile outside a few short miles to McKinley there Paul was driving in his grey car to pick up his son from football practice. He made sure to take time off work to give Dave a ride home. It was the least he could do since his job as a lawyer requires him to be in his office most of his days. Paul doesn't know how he does it? He goes to work and tries to do his best with raising his son on his own. All with a smile on his face or what looks like a smile on the outside.
"Have you talked to your Dad?"
"No."
"Well, will you talk to-"
"I don't know, Kurt."
Dave answered exasperatedly. He turned his head completely away from Kurt. He just didn't know how to talk about what was happening to him, to his Dad, to his…life.
Paul is happy. At least that is what he tries to tell himself. Truth is Paul pretends to be happy. He's been so depressed- for years now. He can't explain, Paul thinks he knows why he's depressed but he can't admit to what that is now, or ever. No one knew this about Paul Karofsky but he used to drink- heavily. He couldn't even get out of bed a lot of the time and acting that way nearly cost him his job once.
"Kurt it's my entire fault…" Dave agonizingly whispered.
Dave is barely audible with his head down as he takes a trip down memory lane. What he remembers is not good. No kid should have to witness what he did.
Kurt still has his hand on Dave's hand comforting Dave. He waits patiently until finally asking.
"What is your fault Dave?" Kurt leans in whispering.
For a while Paul couldn't handle what he's been trying to avoid for years now. But one day when Dave was very young he decided he needed to get his shit together and raise his son. Since the divorce Dave's mother Sarah was no longer in the picture. It was just him and Dave. Dave was so young Paul isn't even sure if Dave remembers him being a drunk. He's hoping he doesn't.
"The divorce Kurt….. My parents split when I was thirteen. I did something wrong, I remember I was being a terrible child- a real brat and then the next day mom splits leaving me and dad alone. It's my entire fault. It's the reason dad is so depressed. She left because of me. I know it Kurt, no use in saying it's not my fault."
Dave admitted to Kurt with a tear rolling down his eye. That is the first time he ever said that to anyone. He's shocked he's even admitting it to Kurt. They hadn't been friends very long and Dave didn't want Kurt to judge him.
Dave had been carrying the shame of what happened between his parents since he was thirteen. No one knew of this inner turmoil that Dave carried with him. Azimio knew his parents were divorced but he had no idea why.
Dave couldn't tell him. He just couldn't.
Kurt hadn't said anything. He just stayed frozen unable to speak, wanting to wipe Dave's misery away. Kurt was stunned at Dave confession. Kurt had no clue he was going through more than Kurt could ever imagine.
Even though Paul has been struggling with his thoughts and emotions with his past through it all he couldn't let Dave down by being drunk every evening. He had to change and he did. For a while his life seemed to improve but now things are different and Paul still can't bring himself to say why out loud.
"Dave,"
Kurt gently began, his thumb stroking more intensely in Dave's hand, "I'm going to say it anyway."
Dave turned his head and looked at Kurt. Kurt winced at how sad Dave looked. Dave was no longer trying to hide his tears as he looked at Kurt like a lost little boy at the Lima Mall. Kurt focused on his words.
"It was not your fault."
Dave looked away.
"Please, Dave." Kurt gently yet firmly implored, "Look at me."
Dave surprised himself with how quickly he looked back at Kurt, giving Kurt's hand a stronger grip. Kurt mused that Dave seemed to be hanging on for dear life. His selfish side wanted to believe this and it may have been true.
"Your parents had troubles way before you were allegedly 'bad' when you were thirteen. Whatever the cause of the end of their marriage, it had to be them.
Were they arguing before you turned thirteen?"
Dave thought for a minute, looking away. He knew whatever answer he provided would only encourage Kurt. And, for some reason, Dave dreaded telling Kurt the truth. But he had to.
"Yeah. Some."
"I'll bet there were arguments you weren't even aware of."
Dave stared at Kurt's hand in his, loving how soft and firm Kurt's had was. He didn't want to let go. Kurt's strength was immeasurable then.
"I guess."
Dave's phone buzzed. Reluctantly, Dave leaned over, releasing Kurt's hand. He hated how that hand was suddenly so cold.
"Dad's here." Dave's announced. "I have to go."
"OK."
The boys stood then, wiping their faces and grabbing their respective bags. Although little had been resolved, they felt better. Dave felt stronger. Kurt even felt stronger. Sometimes, there's nothing like a united front.
They just looked at each other. No real thoughts were present, but there was a mutual respect in their eyes that told the truth.
"Thank you, Kurt. Good night."
And before Kurt could respond, Dave briskly left the choir room. Kurt, stunned, simply grabbed his bag, strolling towards the choir room doors. He had a better understanding of what Dave was going through. He hated how Dave still hated being vulnerable, but completely understood. Dave and his dad Paul were struggling to be happy. Who doesn't?
Despite the conditioning he underwent in football, Dave was nearly out of breath running away from the choir room. Things were way too intense and Dave did what he did best – he ran. But he didn't feel the crushing despair he usually felt when the pressure to bolt hit him. That night, Dave was feeling a little lighter in his step as he approached the school's doors.
Suddenly, it occurred to Dave that his Dad would try to pick him up near the stadium. Dave fired off a text, telling his Dad that he was in the student parking lot section of the school. He waited about a half a minute before he received a text back, acknowledging his location.
Paul's grey sedan was soon seen, rounding the corner of the lot. Dave half smiled and walked towards the car. Paul came to a stop just a few feet from Dave. He rounded the front of the car, opened the passenger door and sat down.
"What are you doing over here?" Paul asked. "Why aren't you at the stadium?"
Dave's face fell and he turned facing the window. He couldn't reveal to his Dad that he was meeting in the choir room with the only openly gay student at McKinley High School. So, Dave did another thing he was good at – he lied.
"I had to go to my locker. I forgot my chemistry book."
Paul nodded. It was a good lie. Dave threw his big football bag in the backseat and situated himself as Paul drove off.
The pair pulled out of the student parking lot in silence. This had become a normal routine to them. With Paul picking up Dave three times a week in the evening, no words were necessary between father and son. But silence has its own noise and even introverts need the distraction of noise from time to time.
Dave casually reached over for the radio and switched it on. He flipped through the channels with annoying speed, giving each station maybe five or seven seconds before switching to something else.
You're far away
from me my love
Paul's eyes widened. That song, Paul thought. There was something very
familiar about that song, but couldn't place it. The soft, amber tones struck something inside Paul, but he couldn't put his finger on the slightly stinging memory. Quite suddenly, Dave changed the channel.
"No!" Paul yelled.
Dave jumped a little, startled at his Dad's reaction. He stared at his dad in wonder.
"Put it back to that slower song just now." Paul said, only a little calmer.
Dave did as he was told and the moving, emotional song could be heard. Dave sat back and stared out his window. However, Paul was fast becoming lost in thought.
….day we'll be together
Yes we will, yes we will
That song, that damn song. Paul narrowed his eyes a little. There was something so poignant touching his heart. He knew that song was associated with a painful and wonderful memory, but he couldn't remember. He just listened and fell into Ms. Ross' words….
Long time ago
My, my sweet thing
I made a big mistake, honey
I said, I said goodbye
Oh, oh baby
Ever, ever, ever since that day
Now, now all I wanna do is cry, cry
Paul suddenly pulled the car back in the lane. He hadn't realized he was so lost in thought that he drifted over the yellow line. Dave momentarily looked at his dad, making sure he was OK to drive. Once confirmed, Dave resumed looking out the passenger door window.
But Paul was lost.
Lost in thought. Lost in memories. Lost in sudden breathtaking sadness.
With a slightly trembling lower lip, Paul couldn't help but look out the driver's side window suddenly. He now knew the ache in Ms. Ross' voice. He knew of the lost love of his life. Tears threatened to fall down his strong face. Without even realizing it, he spoke aloud…..
"Jack…."
Paul Karofsky whispered.
Dave and his dad Paul soon arrived back at the Karofsky house. The men got out of the car at the same time, slamming their doors shut. Dave fiddled with his football bag while Paul wrestled with his house keys. Both guys were too absorbed in their thoughts to even notice each other. If they had, they would've seen how pensive and sad they looked. Paul and Dave were way too much alike. Like father, like son, as the cliché-ridden phrase goes. It couldn't apply even more.
Paul unlocked the door and bolted into the house with as much gusto has his aging frame allowed. Dave followed, but turned the other direction.
"Dad?"
Paul abruptly came to a halt hearing his name called.
"Yeah?"
Paul responded. Both men were out of each other's sight, but could clearly still hear each other. Regardless, Paul swiped at his face, making sure there were no tears. Even though Dave didn't see him, Paul didn't want Dave to see his face.
"I got my homework done at school." Dave hollered.
"I'm gonna work on the basement."
Paul hesitated. He asked Dave to clean the basement out as the last project of spring cleaning. Of course, it was autumn. The guys weren't exactly punctual when it came to house cleaning.
"OK."
Paul replied, slightly subdued.
"I'll let you know when dinner's ready."
"OK."
The men separated – Dave to the basement and Paul to his own private hell.
Dave was perplexed. If Kurt was right about Dave's fear and anxiety speaking for him, he had to get that under control. Azimio deserved to be relieved of his own anxiety and an apology. And Dave was troubled by his dad's depression, which seemed to worsen in the last twenty minutes.
Dave's mind became a whirlwind of these kinds of thoughts, as he rummaged through old equipment, boxes, and toys from his childhood, baby supplies, and other items. Mindless work was the perfect tool to use for Dave to help sort his thoughts. Dave found his first computer and smiled. He knew it was a piece of junk, but this very PC led Dave to his favorite video game – Resident Evil.
Smiling, Dave resumed rummaging, sweeping up dust from time to time, and sorting. A quiet sneeze escaped his nose.
He couldn't help but chuckle from time to time. Soon, trash bags filled with dust and junk were ready to be transported to the curb for trash pickup. One bag was already sealed while a second was almost ready to be sealed.
Kneeling, Dave quickly rummaged through baby supplies, Kurt's hair, photo albums, Kurt's clothes, useless computer equipment, Kurt's quick wit, old childhood toys, and, finally, Kurt's smile. Dave found he loved doing mindless tasks if Kurt could remain in his thoughts. Kurt simply calmed Dave.
Dave even managed a little smile, not having any clue where his thoughts about Kurt were taking him.
Dave emerged with one hand filled with photo albums and the other with a dustpan. As he turned towards the second garbage bag, he heard a flat, smacking sound. Looking down, he saw a page from a photo album had slipped out of the black three–ring binder. Dave quickly threw the dust into the bag and turned to grab the page.
But as he grabbed it to place it back in its binder, the page caught Dave's attention. There were only two photographs on this page. Normally, each page could easily hold six photographs. Dave quickly wondered why this page seemed to stand out. He shrugged the thought off as insignificant. He had other, more important thoughts to tend to.
When he opened the photo album and placed page on top, he couldn't help but see the photographs. Something stirred inside Dave in that moment. He studied the photographs.
The first photograph was a Polaroid that was an attempted selfie. Two boys were smiling at the camera, arms around each other's shoulders. Dave flipped the photo. In black handwritten ink, somebody wrote "1984" – but no names. Turning the photo back, he stopped. He realized that one of the boys was a teenage version of his father. Dave hadn't seen his dad smile in so long he almost forgot what it looked like.
And his dad looked so happy! But when Dave looked at his dad's companion, he had no idea who this other kid was. The kid was cute – black hair just below the ear, a gorgeous smile, soft green eyes…..
Dave had no idea what he was seeing. His dad had his arm around another boy and he looked so damned happy!
But Dave had no idea who this other kid was – and it bothered him for some reason. The boys looked so happy. Instantly, curiosity won over and he switched his attention to the second photo.
Dave's jaw dropped. There was his dad again as a teenager. But this time, this same boy was facing his dad with a football that appeared to be suddenly thrust between them. And when he looked closer at his dad, he started shaking. There was a phrase at the bottom of the Polaroid in Russian. But the photograph itself consumed Dave!
His dad's lips were puckered like he was anticipating a kiss! From this boy!
Trembling with unknown feelings, Dave couldn't believe his eyes. He had to take a deep breath and relax before he could study the photograph further. This Polaroid seemed so much more personal, more…..loving?
Enraged, Dave turned and marched up the steps, pounding his feet up the staircase. He emerged into the kitchen, his head immediately doing flips in a frantic attempt to locate his father.
"Dad!"
Dave called out.
"Dad!"
"In here." Dave heard his Dad call out.
Dave's head spun in the direction of his dad's bedroom. Dave marched out of the kitchen, down the hall, and stopped at his dad's bedroom.
"Dad!"
Paul whirled around, completely confused at his son's enraged face.
"What the hell-"
"I should be saying that to you, Dad!"
A moment passed between the two men.
Paul was suddenly filled with dread. He looked down and saw Dave had what appeared to be a page from a photo album in his hand. Paul looked even more confused.
"What….who….?"
Dave stammered.
The page shook in his hand. Paul watched his proud, troubled son tremble, unable and unwilling to do anything about it. Confused, Paul slowly walked up to his angered son. When he was standing eye-to-eye in front of him, he looked down at what Dave had found. Paul angrily snatched it from Dave's hand as Dave continued to glare at his father.
Horror. Fear. Anger. Humility.
All of these feelings overwhelmed Paul as his eyes widened at the photographs. He could see himself and somebody else in the photographs. He knew these photos all too well.
Paul took a step back to steady himself. Dave just stood there, rage blasting from his eyes. But Paul was transported to the past, to a past that he held in his hand.
A past that resembled the only time in Paul's entire life that he was happy.
"Love?"
Dave suddenly interrupted.
"I know the Russian word for 'love', Dad."
But Paul barely registered what his son was saying. He stood stoically, lost in the long forgotten photographs. Paul swallowed.
"Sit down, Dave."
Paul said quietly.
"I have something I want to tell you."
AN: Uh oh… This is not good for Paul. What did you guys think? I know there are other stories with Paul that are like this but this is my take on this whole situation. :) Let me know if you guys liked by leaving a review. :) Please be kind. As always constructive criticisms are always welcomed. Oh just one more thing next chapter will be a flash back to the past. I won't say more but I just thought I would let you guys know. ;)
Until Next time…. Have a GOOD DAY!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEE. X3
