Chapter 4
An hour has passed since his surreal meeting with Puck in the choir room and Kurt has to admit he feels better. Well, not just better, pretty damn amazing actually. His feelings of hopelessness and exhaustion have been replaced by a kind of contained excitement and thoughts that race so fast through his mind that he can scarcely keep up with them.
His feelings of elation dim a little when he is making his way to the cafeteria and catches sight of his reflection in the sheet of glass separating the hallway from one of the offices.
The memo from his brain telling his body he feels fantastic has obviously been delayed in transit. His eyes are sunken and blood shot, his cheeks are flushed and his bangs are clinging unattractively to his sweaty brow.
Suddenly he realizes it is no longer his own morose reflection looking back at him but the face of Sue Sylvester, who is peering at him through the glass, an eyebrow raised. He yelps and jumps back.
She slams open the door open and peers at him.
"What are you looking at lady face?"
Kurt flinches, "Sorry Ms. Sylvester, I didn't mean to…"
"First of all," she prods him in the chest with a sharp finger, "nobody stares at Sue Sylvester without first getting permission. Secondly," another prod, "Sue Sylvester does not expect to see one of her front-line Cheerios wandering round the school looking like something a rabid dog coughed up. You better thank your lucky stars you aren't wearing your uniform kid or I'd be forced to reach inside my pants, take my sacrificial knife from it's sheath and slice those hallowed garments off your scrawny, undeserving little body immediately."
Kurt gulps and wraps his arms around himself protectively.
"I'm really sorry Coach, I didn't sleep too well last night and…"
"I haven't slept in twenty-five years," she interrupts him, "and you don't see Sue Sylvester shuffling around the school looking like some kind of diseased, 19th century Dickensian orphan. It's disgusting. I should have you suspended for spreading your repulsive plague around the school."
"But…"
"You want my advice kid? Go to the nurse, get sterilized, and by that I mean submerged in antiseptic until you are no longer carcinogenic, and then forced to remain in isolation until you look less like a depressing little puppy dog that needs to be put out of it's misery and more like a world class cheerleader."
Kurt looks down at his feet unhappily, "Ms. Sylvester, I honestly don't need to go to the nurse. I feel great, really. I've been… running out on the track. That's why I look bad. I forgot my gym stuff but I want to keep my fitness levels up for nationals so that I don't let you and the girls down and…"
"Let me stop you right there pasty face. Are you telling me that the reason your face is the same color as the snowy-white dandruff that falls from Will Schuester's head like some kind of repulsive blizzard is because you've been putting in extra work for Cheerios?"
"Uh, yes." Kurt lies, shifting uncomfortably under her penetrative gaze in the silence that follows.
"Do you know why I work you Cheerios until you sweat blood?" She asks and he shakes his head quickly, "It's because adversity is good for you. Do you think Sue Sylvester reached the lofty heights she's at today by skipping through life like some kind of deranged garden gnome? No. It's because she treats adversity as an ally. Clearly a little bit of Sue Sylvester is rubbing off on you kid and you know what? I approve."
Kurt relaxes a little and suppresses the sigh of relief that almost escapes him.
"Here's some advice for you kid, there's nothing in life that can't be solved with a little determination and the occasional dose of cosmetic enhancement. Remember that."
"I will Ms. Sylvester."
"Here," She says, and tosses him a flask. Kurt looks down at it puzzled. "It's Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse, made to my new improved formula. Drink it."
"Is it… safe?" He asks tentatively. He cringes at her glare, removes the cap and downs the bitter liquid, trying not to gag under her watchful gaze.
"I'm impressed buddy, you have a good swallow." She tells him with a slightly vindictive smile, "And to answer your previous question, I have no idea if it's safe. I finalized the recipe only this morning, so let me know how you get on with that."
Kurt watches her march down the corridor with a spring in her step.
LINE
Kurt's dad has given him a lot of advice over the years, some of it more welcome than others (the birds and the bees talk still makes Kurt cringe with embarrassment every time he thinks about it), but by far the most useful thing he ever taught his son was to Always Be Prepared.
True, at the time Burt was talking more about what to take on camping trips and hikes into the wilderness, rather than a need to ensure that a change of clothes and cosmetic bag were always within reach, but Kurt is grateful all the same.
He admires his reflection in the mirror, satisfied that his complexion is looking much rosier, and that he is now the very picture of health. And if he'd had to use a whole tube of concealer to get the job done then that was a price he was willing to pay to get everyone off his back. What was with that anyway? He was perfectly capable of looking after himself thank you very much. He'd been doing it since he was eight years old.
As he left the girls bathroom he swung his messenger bag over his shoulder and felt it connect with something at around the same moment that he heard a weird yelping noise.
He looked behind him to see Tina rubbing her shoulder, a pained expression on her face. Artie was close beside her, glaring at Kurt.
"Hey Tina! Artie!" Kurt falls into step beside them. "So, have you guys finished your Glee assignment yet? I was going to do a little Queen but now I'm wondering whether it's too depressing. I need something more upbeat, something I can really move to you know? I was thinking maybe I'd do a Michael Jackson number, I mean, his vocal range is very similar to mine and it's true I've never moonwalked before but how difficult can it be, right? Maybe Puck could show me a few moves because as improbable as it sounds, his footwork really is impeccable."
Kurt is puzzled by the silence that follows and turns to find that Artie and Tina have stopped and are looking at him strangely.
"Ah, Kurt – are you ok?" Artie asks him, sharing a look with Tina that Kurt can't quite read.
"I'm fine! Why do people keep asking me that?" Kurt snaps, crossing his arms and glaring at them. He feels his good mood fading away, quickly being replaced by a feeling of intense irritation. He taps his foot impatiently.
"Well, you just hit Tina with your bag and you didn't even notice." Artie told him, wheeling himself forward.
"Also, you have lipgloss on your teeth." Tina adds helpfully.
"But mostly because you're acting a little… wired." Artie tells him, glancing up at Tina again.
Kurt grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper under control, "Why is everyone on my back today?" He growls, "I am fine. No, I'm not fine, I'm fabulous. Fabulously fine." He glares at his friends, who look at him with an infuriating mixture of confusion and pity which just makes Kurt madder.
"Kurt, are you sure you should be at school?" Tina asks him gently.
Artie nods, "We were all worried about you after practice yesterday. Even Santana was asking us if you were ok this morning. And you don't look good. Maybe you should go home."
Kurt is sick of people criticizing his appearance today, like he's not the best dressed kid in the school. He's also sick of people telling him to go home. To leave.
And then suddenly it hits him. It's not just his dad that wants to be rid of him. It's everyone. Tina, Artie, Puck, Ms. Sylvester. Even Mr. Schuester had told him not to come into school today.
He feels sick.
Last night when he'd overheard his dad saying that they'd all be happier without him he'd assumed that he had been talking about himself, Carole and Finn. But now he realizes the truth: They would all be happier without him. His teachers, his friends, his family. Everyone.
"Kurt?"
He backs away from Artie and Tina slowly at first. He hears his heart pounding in his head, getting faster and faster as the truth sinks in.
"Kurt, are you ok?"
And then he is running as fast as he can, as if he can escape the dismal reality of his situation; as if he can run away from the feelings of growing panic that are making his heart hurt and his lungs ache.
He runs until his legs give out and he finds himself lying on the football field which is thankfully deserted, panting and staring up at the sky. His bag had burst open as it hit the ground next to him and its contents are strewn around him.
The pain is incredible, it's the worst he's ever felt. He is aching and empty and confused and he's never felt so alone. He lets his head fall to one side and sees a flask lying next to him.
It has rolled from his bag and for a moment he thinks that it's the one that April Rhodes had given him months before.
He scrambles into a sitting position, unscrewing the cap with a desperation he didn't know he felt, remembering how for a few short hours it had made him feel like he could be anything he wanted to be.
Kurt puts his nose into the flask and inhales deeply, not expecting the pungent fumes that fill his lungs. He chokes, fighting the sudden nausea that has overwhelmed him. That was no Chablis. And then he remembers; Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse.
Another memory tickles the back of his mind. Puck. The pills. He had felt better after taking the pills. He grasps around on the floor until he finds them hiding under some cleansing wipes. He pops two out and swallows them down with the remaining contents of the flask.
And then he lies back and watches the sky, waiting for the pain to go away.
A/N: I'm so sorry this update took so long. I've been having my own RL adventures and ended up in hospital! The next chapter is already half written and will be up asap. As always, thank you so incredibly much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters. I've been really overwhelmed by the response to this fic and am so grateful to everyone who took the time to review x