CHAOS THEORY: Vibrato

Chapter 4- Cause and Effect

"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."

-Chaos Theory

…

"There's a ripple effect in all that we do. What you do touches me;what I do touches you."

-Anonymous

Puck tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel of Kurt's car in time with the beat.

School hadn't yet ended, but after Puck had gotten back to the Hudmel house and Kurt had retreated downstairs, he'd texted Finn how he'd gone with Kurt and would be returning to pick Finn up, and how the countertenor had looked really beaten up. He'd figured Finn would be upset, but he hadn't expected Finn to immediately reply that he wanted Puck to come pick him up now, and that he'd be out soon. Supposedly, Finn planned to fake sick with the school nurse Miss Clemens.

Normally, that sort of thing wouldn't work and Puck would tell Finn not to even bother trying, but the Nurse was extremely lenient, favoring the jocks and other students high on the high school food chain in particular.

Still, Finn was taking practically forever.

Puck groaned and leaned forward to fiddle with the knob of the radio. Kurt usually kept his iPod in here, and while Puck was so not into Hummel's usual type of music, he'd evidently already started to become accustomed to it, thus his current musical-related restlessness.

As he was spinning the dial, a knock sounded on the window of the passenger side, and he looked over, rolling his eyes at Finn's dopey face pressed up against the window, reaching over to unlock the door.

The taller boy clambered in hastily, pulling his backpack in with him.

"Hey, man."

"You took forever," Puck replied with no small degree of irritation as he started the car.

Finn shrugged, snapping his seatbelt into place as Puck pulled out of the parking lot.

"Sorry. The attendance lady was busy talking with Rosdale about some janitor-situation thing…How bad did he look?"

"He was pretty beat up," Puck told him through gritted teeth. Neither one of them was pleased with this latest development.

"I can't believe Karofsky! I thought for sure he'd back off after Sam and the guys went after him."

"Karofsky sucks," Puck stated agreeably, "but we don't know for sure it was him."

Finn snorted, as did Puck after a moment.

"Okay, so, it probably was," Puck admitted. "But, dude, no offense or anything cause Kurt's totally like my boy now, but dude's a complete flamer. He's gotta attract a lot of this shit."

"I never thought of that," Finn sighed. "It's not fair."

Puck rolled his eyes at that, but didn't bother to reply.

Finn watched out the window for a few minutes, thinking, then asked, "What do you think we should do?"

Puck's lip curled with amusement and a vague disdain.

"We?"

Finn gave him a hard look and Puck nodded resignedly after a moment.

"Ask him I guess. Get a rundown."

"I'm not sure I want to," Finn frowned. "What if it's really bad?"

Puck shrugged half-heartedly, eyes on the road. They were only a couple minutes away now.

"I'm his brother now, Puck," Finn burst out. "And it's like, I was one of them once, y'know? I feel like I've already failed at my job as an older brother or whatever. I don't like letting people down, dude."

Puck pulled into the driveway and turned off the car.

"I know. I was too. Look, dude, you gotta stop being such a drama queen! That stuff's the past. None of it matters anymore. It's not like we're still hurting Hummel or anything, man. Chill." When Finn didn'r look convinced, he continued: "We're just a couple of teenagers now, right?"

Finn nodded and Puck grinned at him.

"And that means, unless you like kill somebody or-"

"Get your best friend's girl pregnant?"

Puck faltered for a second, but quickly regained stride, though the hand that had found his Mohawk spoke to the contrary of his words and general demeanor.

"Any Life and death stuff aside, dude. That's it. Everything else you do. It maybe has a little effect if it's grades or screwin' around or stealing shit, you know? But otherwise, it's like…nothing you do when you're a kid really matters. There was nothing you could do or could not do to change the way things are. Even if you don't do anything your entire life, shit will still happen. That's it. That's life. And, once you're an adult I guess, everything starts to count, but when you're still just a kid? Nah."

The pair of them simply sat there for the next five or so minutes, letting Puck's words slowly sink in. Then, Finn abruptly laughed.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Puck asked defensively.

Finn laughed harder and clutched at his stomach.

"That sounds like what you would say when you're high!"

Puck scowled at him.

"That's my philosophy you're talking about, Gigantor. It's called the meaning of life, not that you'd know anything about that kind of deep thought," he said sharply.

"Whatever, man," Finn chuckled in response, shaking his head back and forth with mirth.

The taller boy unlocked his door and opened it, leaping out easily and slamming the door shut. Puck followed his lead, hitting the lock-button twice to lock up as he headed towards the front door. Finn had already gone in and, when he entered, the basement door was wide open.

Puck shrugged inwardly and tossed the keys on the counter, then headed downstairs.

Finn had been running on something almost like adrenapheline or whatever it was that made you feel like you were naturally high after hearing Puck's "philosophy" when he made his way downstairs, crying out, "Kurt!"

There was no-one there.

…

What the hell?

He heard footsteps behind him and slowly turned to see Puck. Puck was looking around the basement, one hand jumping to his Mohawk when he realized its emptiness.

"Um…"

"He was here right?" Finn found himself asking. "Like…for real? Are you sure you didn't get high and make all this up?"

Puck glowered at him.

"Lay off dude! Besides, you and me both got a text from Kurt saying he was going home. And that black diva chick I dated last year got one too."

"Mercedes," Finn supplied, frowning. "He's not here though. And we had his car, so… Shit! If he was kidnapped or something Burt's gonna kill me," he groaned.

"I'm sure he wasn't kidnapped," Puck rolled his eyes. "He's around here somewhere. Prolly just workin at his dad's shop or something. You," Puck enunciated, pointing at Finn whose leg was jumping with anxiety, "need. to. chill."

Finn went around and slumped on his bed.

"I guess you're right," he said doubtfully.

Puck went over and turned on the game system, grabbing two controllers.

"'Course I am. I'm a stud."

"And that means you're always right?" Finn asked, smirking crookedly. Puck almost laughed when he spotted the barely-there glint of actual question in his friend's eyes.

"Hell yeah."

"Whatever man," Frankenteen chuckled.

Puck smirked in response and punched a button on his controller.

"C'mon, Let's just play some Grand Theft Auto Four. I call first play."

"Fine," Finn replied. "But that means I get first play on Black Ops."

"Deal."

Kurt stroked his fingers over the aged wood of his mom's old dresser, delicately lifting a perfume out of one of the drawers. He removed the lid and pressed his fingers, neverminding that one bore an open, still bleeding, cut, to the metal opening thoughtfully. As if in a dream, he found himself unscrewing the sprayer and placing his fingers over the top before turning it over and hissing automatically as the liquid lapped at his injury with ravenous ferocity.

Instead of jerking away, Kurt pressed his broken flesh closer still, relishing in the heat and the smell as it attacked him, washing away all the rest of his senses.

It felt almost as if he were purging away the sick from his blood, getting rid of everything wrong and transforming it right, purifying himself of his every flaw, letting them ebb away in the perfume flood.

Kurt's hand trembled a bit, and he took a shaky breath, turning the bottle upright once more and releasing it. He then lay down beside it, and the dresser, his injured hand curled around the base of the perfume bottle, whilst the other wandered up to wind around the lowermost drawer-handle, holding it as tightly as he could.

He stayed like this for some time, gaze utterly transfixed, both focused and not, as he saw only wood and let the wood morph into a blurry nonentity of brown and black and darkness and light quietly obscured. He moved once only, to pull his mom's old quilt about and over him in a swift, jerky motion, before resuming his position, though the blanket tucked over his head of course altered the sight.

Kurt wanted nothing more than to stay here forever, and let the blanket and the wood and his mother's smell become his whole world. There was no higher priority for him at the moment really, not within this stretch of different space and time, this oddly parallel universe branch of life.

His hand ceased to burn and it was as if there was absolutely nothing but the warm aroma of his mom shrouding him, obfuscating the rest of the world until it faded out of existence completely.

The Earth he knew felt an alien planet in contrast to the universe he was now absorbed in.

Kurt found that he didn't miss it. In fact, he doubted it was even possible to do so.

Well…he doubted it as much as one could doubt anything on this atypical plane of existence, in a distant, muffled sort of way.

Kurt was soon enwrapped in Hypnos's tender embrace, his mother's ghost closed around him in the darkness.

"I'm starving," Puck groaned, tossing aside the controller.

Finn tossed his to the side as well, hands retreating to his grumbling stomach.

"Yeah, well so am I," he retorted irritably.

Puck heaved a sigh and stretched his cramping muscles.

"It might be time to start searching for your brother," he admitted reluctantly.

Finn nodded his agreement, once more looking worried.

"I hope he's not hurt or anything," he said quietly. "Burt would kill me."

"Everyone would kill you," Puck corrected with a yawn.

Finn pulled a face at that and stood as well, starting up the stairs to the main floor.

"They'd kill you too, though," he said over his shoulder once he'd reached the top.

Puck jogged and jumped his way up to where Finn stood and snorted derisively at the other boy's statement.

"Nah. I'm too much of a badass, man. They can't take me worth shit. You, on the other hand…"

Finn glared and socked him in the shoulder.

"I'm stronger than you think. I punched you out at least three or four times last year, remember?"

Puck "pshhh"-ed at him, but didn't bother trying to formulate any actual retort, instead opening the front door and venturing out onto the patio. Finn followed, glancing around haphazardly.

"Kurt?" Finn asked the empty air around him. Then, louder and longer, "Kur-rt."

"C'mon Hummel," Puck called to the sky, then the trees. "We're hungry and we need your fairy ass to make us some food! Come on Hummel! Hummel! Kurt!"

"He's not coming," Finn frowned.

"No shit, Sherlock," Puck spat, combing his fingers through his Mohawk. "Uch. I'm starved."

"Me too. Faymished."

Puck nodded his agreement.

"He's your brother," Puck said pointedly after a long pause of just staring into the empty night. "Don't you know anywhere he'd go?"

Finn scowled.

"He's not my real brother. It's not like I've been around him forever or anything."

"Yeah, but you've spent more time with him than me. And, I thought you, like, bonded or whatever during that ballad assignment that year."

"We did," Finn admitted. "But I don't think…wait a second…There was a conversation, I remember, and we were talking about our parents and stuff, like his mom and my dad... And he said something about a…dresser, I think."

"Okay, I'm gonna pretend that that's totally not gay, because the Puckster's in dire need of some fuel, but I'm gonna need you to repeat that for me later, 'cause I can't not make fun of that. That's hilarious, dude."

"Whatever," Finn muttered in return, his crimson face making his humiliation and annoyance incredibly obvious.

Puck smirked, and followed Finn back inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Do you know where the dresser is?"

"Attic, I think…"

Puck nodded.

"Lead the way then."

"That's the problem," Finn informed him glumly. "I don't actually know where it is."

Puck grimaced.

"Great…" he paused, and then added resignedly. "If you prep the George Foreman, I'll grab the grilled cheese stuff out of the fridge."

"Cool. But what do we do about Kurt?" Finn asked anxiously.

Puck shrugged nonchalantly, already at the fridge and pulling out the butter and cheese

"Nothing. When Hummel's hungry or whatever he'll come down."

Finn frowned, beginning to pull out plates as Puck slathered butter on bread.

"I guess."

Puck was right. Kurt did come down.

At around three am to use the facilities.

And then, he went right back upstairs.

And curled up exactly where he'd been before.

And fell right back asleep.

Only this time, he made sure to lock the attic door behind him.

Saturday morning found Finn Hudson-Hummel and Noah Puckerman sitting at the kitchen table and staring forlornly at the stove.

"This is so not cool, dude," Puck told Finn irritably.

Finn sighed heavily.

"I know…Grilled cheese?"

Puck frowned for a long time before groaning and replying with an affirmative nod and "grilled cheese".

The pair went to work, and eventually brought their finished sandwiches downstairs. Mere moments later, Kurt emerged from the attic like the living dead. He went to the bathroom and glanced briefly around the kitchen before once more going upstairs without anything to eat.

The process repeated twice more that day, and by nightfall Puck and Finn were sick of it. Both teens went to bed that night with murder on their minds.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Kurt Hummel jerked awake from yet another nightmare and clutched feverishly at his sweaty hair in the darkness, a single word ringing in his ears.

'Choice…'

Sunday morning slid into place with a grim finality, the sky looking morose as Puck thundered about the house in search of the elusive attic door. Finn was hot on his heels with fists clenching and unclenching, the motion one of both immense anger and incredible nervousness.

At length, Puck approached the master bedroom that he and Finn had avoided on every other search around the house, and this time Puck wrenched the door open and stormed inside.

He and Finn spotted the dusty white steps leading up to a small platform and alcove right away and began to climb them, halfway up catching sight of a small rounded door.

Puck swung himself up onto the platform with experienced ease and strode to the door, grabbing hold of the handle and pulling hard.

Nothing. Not a budge. Not a squeak. Not even the click most knobs made when they were turned.

Puck scowled ferociously and slammed a fist onto the door.

"Get your fucking fairy ass out here, Hummel!"

"Come on, Kurt, this isn't cool," Finn yelled beseechingly.

When nothing happened, Puck snarled, took a few steps back, and launched himself at the smooth wood.

A thunk sounded with the impact, but nothing more.

Puck released a scream of pure rage and slammed his fists against the wood once more.

"I'm gonna break down this door, Hummel! Get out here! Goddammit! Come on! Get out here Fag!

Puck never saw Finn's fist coming. He only felt it slam into his jaw. He was knocked off the landing, thankfully falling onto the bed and bouncing to the floor from there instead of anything else. Finn descended upon him and within seconds the friends were engaged in an all out brawl.

Kurt shivered in the dank closet.

"Please…"

"Shut up faggot! God, you're such a girl," Karofsky proclaimed irritably.

Kurt's jaw tightened but he didn't reply. He was tied to a bucket in the janitor's closet and for some reason it felt as though his entire body was aflame. Every time he pissed Karofsky off too much the other boy would pull out a long, curved knife and slash at him so that the point dug into a few centimeters worth of Kurt's flesh before it was ripped out, chunks of skin pulling to the side with it.

Kurt was growing sick of fighting.

"Such a girl…Maybe I should check?"

Karofsky's speech was oddly disjointed, but Kurt noticed not, despite the words having caught his attention.

He flinched violently away from the jock, spikes digging into his back.

Karofsky was suddenly on top of him, one hand on Kurt's thigh, the other wrapped around his throat.

But this time the hand on his thigh didn't stop there.

Kurt froze as Karofsky's fingers crept beneath the waist line of his jeans, going down to grip him. The bully smirked and leaned in close.

"You need to make a choice, don't you? Tell me what to do. You know you like this. You know it could be easier for you."

Kurt swung his head back and forth fiercely.

"No!"

Karofsky's hold on both his throat and his privates tightened and Kurt whined slightly with pain.

"You have a choice to make…" Karofsky grinned abruptly and Kurt's entire body tightened at the look.

"Seems like your body's made it for you doesn't it fairy? Fairy ass. Hummel. God, Hummel, you're such a Fag!"

Kurt jerked awake with a violent cry just in time to hear a crash outside. He stood, trembling, and went to the door, unlocking it and staring down at the chaos that reigned below.

He clambered down the stairs, neither of the jocks paying him any mind, and walked slowly to the basement bedroom and his own bed. He wasn't eager to sleep or anything like that, but his iPod was down here, and he figured he could use the distraction from what he knew tomorrow would bring.

It was fine though.

Kurt Hummel had made his choice.

A/N-

Don't hate me? Lol. And let's not hate on Puck either. He was kinda a jerk this chapter, but in his defense, after having Kurt's amazing (I'm guessing) food, having Finn's shoe-ish grilled cheese for every meal would really suck. I'm thinking it made him a little crazy. :P Not that there's really an excuse... *sigh* Just to make sure everyone knows, this fic is *not* intended to bash on *any* characters. Puck's a jerk here, as is Finn, but...well...they're actually pretty damn jerky in canon so...lol.

Sorry this is so filler-ish, but it kinda had to be done. :/ I'm not as confident about this chapter really, since it covers so much time and…gah. I feel like it's maybe a bit boring, though I tried to action things up as much as possible.

HUGE thanks to my precious reviewers, FireApe (you're basically my favorite person right now, FYI. Lol. Nah, Finn's not completely dense. However, he does have a slightly short attention span and is slowly getting caught up in his own web of drama. I completely agree with you about Karofsky. He both fascinates and repulses me, really. It's definitely great writing him. I hope you enjoy this chapter. ^^) and Lycoris B (I'm glad you're enjoying it! XD Your comments made me ridiculously happy. Lol). Thanks also to everyone who's added this to alerts/favorites.

Please review! People who I see frequently reviewing may just end up privy to previews of new chapters and the like, so….

Lots of love everyone! Be safe and take care of yourselves.

~LunalitSol~