Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I make no profit off of this. I've actually lost things to it, like sleep, bodily comforts, and possibly a piece of my soul. Nevermind that...
Dave knocked on the hospital door, pushing it open when no one responded.
After Sonia had reminded him that she had class on Tuesdays, which was why they were meeting tomorrow, he'd sat in front of the TV trying very hard to focus on James Dean. His fingers kept strumming against his thigh, and after his father asked him to stop tapping his foot for the fifth time Dave had popped up and thrown on his shoes. When his dad first opened his mouth Dave knew he was going to ask where he planned on going and he had no answer to give. But after his father had posed the question Dave had immediately answered, "To the hospital, to visit Quinn," like his body had known where he was going all along.
His dad had waved him off (with a raised eyebrow but no comment) and then he was an auto pilot driving to the hospital, trying not to think about how the last time he'd taken this route he'd been in an ambulance.
The beeping of the machines was only lending to Dave's morose thoughts when a quiet, flat voice said, "Hello."
The young man startled and stared for a moment, taking in the usually pristine girl's haggard appearance; gauze taped to the newly grown hair on left side of her head where Dave knew the skull fragment had been removed, the hair not shaved off pulled back in a careless, limp bun. Her hand was still covered in pins, and although her ribs were unwrapped almost totally healed she had be wary of her collarbone which still shot off lightning bolts of pain so strong they made her head spin. Dave kept himself updated through Ms. Pillsbury, whom he'd been meeting with once a week.
Dave blinked twice before remembering to speak. "Um, hey. Know it's kinda weird, me coming here but uh, I wanted to see how you were... er, that is, I just-"
"Never seen you nervous before," Quinn observed, and Dave grimaced at the statement, mostly because of the monotone voice that delivered it.
"Yeah," he agreed, and was again saved from his own awkwardness by Quinn looking away from him towards the door, before turning her head slowly towards the window.
Dave had heard them all talking about Quinn's unresponsiveness behavior and was almost glad for it. He took a seat in the chair by her bed, trying to figure out what had brought him here in the first place when she surprised him by speaking. Even more surprising, it sounded as if she were on the verge of tears.
"Can you tell Kurt that I was wrong, and I'm sorry? I really can't understand."
Dave stared at the right side of her head, but the small amount of her face he could see (and he was afraid to move lest it break the spell that was cast by revealing vulnerabilities, even ones that confused the witness- understand what?) looked as blank as it had been before she spoke.
"Why can't you tell him yourself?" he asked softly. It was the only thing he could think to say and he tried not to expect an answer.
"He doesn't visit me," she said, the tears gone from her once again detached tone.
Dave sat, nonplussed, his mouth forming a silent 'Oh?'
But he said nothing and they sat in a calm semi-silence (MTV was on, and even though it was low enough that the white noise was almost louder than the volume, every once in a while he'd hear Snooki's annoying ass voice) until Quinn fell asleep and Dave's stomach rumbled for a good thirty seconds. He checked his watch, saw that it was ten after 7, and decided to head home.
"I'm gonna go Quinn," he whispered to the sleeping young woman. "You have too much good in your life to give up, okay? ...We all do." He wondered if he'd said that for her benefit, his, or both, and tried to stifle the sob that wracked his frame, composing himself before he headed out.
As he walked, downcast and thoughts racing, through the parking lot he heard Puck's voice, which wasn't surprising considering the guy was yelling in to his cell phone.
"Damnit! She doesn't have another two weeks! ... HA! YOU are calling ME dramatic?!... She starts physical therapy as soon as they take out the screws but she barely even EATS, no way in hell do I see her actually giving a fuck about - ... She can't HEAR me! ... Then take me off speakerphone woman, I can't control what comes outta my mouth when I'm being faced with downright horseshit! ... That's why I told you about this right away! ... Screw your - Hi baby girl. Tell your ma that that was cold..."
Dave continued to his car, wondering what Puck was up to and quite glad for the distraction. Puck's yelling faded as he moved further away unnoticed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and noticed texts from his dad ('chicken piccatta for dinner, done by 7'), Santana ('how come ur not whining to me non-stop about how awesome and untouchable loverboy is- did he tie u up? wankyyyy') and Kurt ('Sorry about this evening, but if Bieste corners me tomorrow I'm telling her it was your fault :P').
He responded to each ('hope you put a plate in the oven, be home soon'; 'hardy har, he had to reschedule, but thanks Satan. i really needed more ideas -_-'; 'Feeding me to the wolves already, Fancy? shoulda known better than to trust a guy who dislikes silent films') respectively, feeling better with every foot of space that separated him the hospital, starting his car before driving off.
He wasn't sure if that visit had been a good or bad idea, but he figured if he could manage a blush at Santana's non-so-subtle suggestion and a chuckle at Kurt's playful turn coating he must be alright. The memories may always hurt, and so will all of the future struggles he was sure to face, but like Jason Lee's character says in "Vanilla Sky" (his favorite modern film), you can't appreciate the sweet without the sour.
He definitely had some sweet in his life. Like butterscotch and brandy, or something.
He stared at himself in the rearview while at the longest red light in town, surprised that he still looked the same (not necessarily true- he'd been speed walking, now jogging, in the morning before school since his second day back and it was beginning to show; he felt healthier) when he felt as if his whole perspective had shifted. Turning up the tunes to ward off more introspection Dave waited out the mother of all red lights (with no intersection to turn off of, bastards) and sang along to "Thunder Road" at the top of his lungs.
Luckily for both boys Bieste didn't seek them out at all on Wednesday.
They'd skipped their meeting with her during their free period, instead meeting up to hide out in the library. Just as they had begun whispering ideas about which two days of the week had seemed best, trying to sort through their lists of who had and hadn't given them their availability, Rachel appeared from behind one of the bookshelves. Her claws sank into Dave's forearm before she pulled him up with surprising strength.
"I'll just be borrowing him, then," she said, and Kurt would have protested if it wasn't for a gleam in her eyes and secret little smile on her face. He'd only seen her look like this lately when she was singing in practice for their closing number for the benefit (which was the only song they'd yet to decide on... sometimes Kurt wondered how they'd ever gotten anything done, they were all dirty rotten procrastinators; even he hadn't figured out what solo he wanted to perform, felt more than a little selfish at singing for Quinn when he couldn't even look her in the (cold, ice cold) eyes).
Kurt watch the odd pair shuffle towards door, Rachel pulling David down to whisper something to him, and tried not to overthink his disappointment at losing time with the young man.
Dave didn't protest due to the fact that the knowledge that he'd be singing AND dancing in front of the Glee club (read: KURT) in a day and a half had left a perpetual sheen of sweat on his forehead all day, niggling in the back of his mind since he'd woken up.
Rachel informed him in a whisper, as soon as they were out of earshot of Kurt, that she wanted him to be comfortable performing in the auditorium and they would be rehearsing in there this period. Kurt still didn't know she and the dancing duo had been helping him prepare, so he tossed an, "I'll text you later," over his shoulder, a confused look plastered onto his face as he followed Rachel out of the library.
Dave and Kurt met up at The Lima Bean later that afternoon because the benefit slash Nationals rehearsals had been put on hiatus until Dave's audition Friday, after Rachel (quite adamantly, much to everyone's surprise) declared they'd have to wait to practice until Dave was there regularly so he wouldn't feel even more out of the loop. She then proceeded to demanded they all have their various solos and duets figured out by next Monday. The group had grumbled about how she was the captain, not the boss, but Mr. Schuester agreed with her and that was that.
"What did she want earlier?" Kurt inquired, curious beyond belief about what was going on with Rachel and Dave.
"She, er," Dave paused, hating that he was lying to Kurt, "wanted to interrogate me about my performance." There. That was a truth. "Make sure I actually had a song picked out and all." A half-truth, yes, and judging from Kurt's raised eyebrow he seemed to pick up on it not being the whole story.
But he let it drop with a simple 'hmmm' before pulling out the GSA contact list, a red dot next to everyone they already had availabilities for. Only three people's names remained, so they sipped on their coffees and made the calls, and after an hour and a half had nailed down a first meeting date.
"Alright, so 3:30-4:25 on Thursdays starting next week, and if Mr. Schuester wants to have Glee practice on Thursdays we can start at 4:45, which give us time for cleanup and such."
"Yep, sounds perfect. The Cheerios practice 5-7:70 on Thursdays 'cause of Coach Sylvester, erm, hormone treatments?" Dave clarified, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Oh you haven't heard? Guess it went on the backburner but still, absolutely devastating gossip; Sue Sylvester is having a baby!"
Dave's eyes widened comically and Kurt had to hold back a snort, waiting patiently for Dave's reaction which took about 1.7 seconds.
"With whose vagina?!"
Kurt absolutely did not giggle at Dave's face or the strange looks sent their way. "That seems to be a popular question," he replied solemnly.
"Huh," Dave let out. "Did not see that one coming."
"Really? You haven't you noticed the change in her? I guess I didn't get to appreciate the pregnancy glow when Qui-" Kurt cut himself off, changing directions. "But if pregnancy mellows Coach Sylvester, I wouldn't question it."
Dave thought about the conversation he'd had with Quinn; he still hadn't brought it up to Kurt. He wasn't sure if he was the right person for Kurt to talk to about not seeing Quinn, figured that's what Blaine was for. Dave was for GSA/PFLAG, and outside of that, talking about impersonal, light hearted things. Maybe Dave would mention it to Blaine, see if the kid could help.
Dave didn't notice that Kurt had fallen in to silence while his thoughts wandered, but Kurt was sipping his coffee and looked to be doing his own thinking.
When Kurt caught David watching him he smiled shyly before hiding it behind another sip of coffee and looking away (but not before he caught the blush on David's cheeks and the 'I think I love you' in his eyes).
They informed Bieste on Thursday that they would be having the meetings on Thursdays beginning March 29th. They informed everyone on the contact list and Kurt woke up the Friday of Dave's upcoming performance feeling accomplished, buzzing with tempered excitement about the soon-to-be-Gleek's "audition".
After school Kurt arrived at the choir room just as Blaine was walking up and they both looked at a sign saying, "Auditorium, Please" (in Rachel's handwriting with gold star, music note, and football stickers decorating the sheet) with raised eyebrows.
Kurt and Blaine gave each other a look, both of them sensing they were missing something.
"This, my dear friend, just became exponentially more intriguing," Blaine said, doing his best Robert-Downey-Jr-as-Sherlock-Holmes impression.
Kurt just took off towards the auditorium, the puzzle pieces all fitting together. He knew David and Rachel were up to something.
Most of New Directions were there, although Rachel (of course) but also, Mike, and Brittany were still missing when the house lights blacked out and the stage lights turned up.
Brad was playing the piano, what sounded like a vaguely familiar old jazz/swing song (no surprise there, it is David, Kurt thought), and was he wearing a fedora? And then - a voice rang out.
"Fly me to the moon, let me swing among the stars..."
Kurt sat transfixed as David & Rachel and Mike & Brittany danced out onto the stage, the boys wearing dashing dark grey suits and matching brimmed hats, the girls with old fashioned up-do's and retro black dresses with white polka dots. Their movements looked effortless, flowing so naturally, Dave's smooth baritone creating goose bumps along Kurt's arms.
Kurt watched with an almost painful smile as David spun Rachel out before pulling her against his chest.
"Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more.
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.
In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you."
The band played and the boys switched partners, David seeming totally at ease keeping up with Brittany, a smile stretched across his face (had he lost weight, Kurt wondered, as he admired the way David's body moved) as he laughed and danced with the blonde, looking like a character out of one of his favorite films.
As he sang the chorus one final time, the four did a wild flourish together that ended with the boys dipping the girls on the final 'you' and the girls tapping their outstretched foot to the final notes of the piano.
Everyone stood up and started applauding, allowing the four a bow, and then David one on his own, his cheeks a-glow, before they rushed the stage.
"That was great, man!"
"Thanks Sam."
"The only good part was Brittany's dancing. Can we go?"
"Aw Santana, that warms my heart, really. You are too kind."
"Was that really David Karofsky up there?" Artie wondered with a high five and grin.
"Nope, that was Rachel Berry's plotting come to fruition."
"I knew you could dance since last year but damn, white boy, you were pretty smooth up there."
"Thank you, Mercedes," Dave smiled kindly, glad that both of Kurt's best friend's didn't seem to harbor any anger towards him "Means a lot."
"Thanks dude," Finn said as he patted Dave on the back.
Dave quirked an eyebrow at him, the smile immovable from his face.
"I knew Rach was up to something, but it was making her so happy and she promised I'd find out soon enough... anyway, it's made her feel a lot better. She's visiting Quinn almost every night and comes home so sad. So thanks."
"Anytime," he said quietly, offering out his fist which Finn met swiftly.
"Your performance was great, by the way. Wouldn'ta guessed it was your first time on stage," Finn continued, all the while Kurt stood chatting with Rachel as she finally told him all about the secret Thursday rehearsals and David's (mostly) unwavering commitment and effort.
Kurt watched with new eyes while David and Finn, and then Puck, Sam, Mike, and Artie all fell into conversation about dancing and music, and then suddenly sports and school, and Kurt allowed them a few minutes as he basked in warmth at the sight of David integrating into their little group.
Just as he was about to approach them all to give his personal validations to David Blaine walked up to the ex-football player, saying something with a kind smile on his face. They shook hands and Blaine patted him on the back before commending the other performers.
Kurt was pretending to watch Brittany try to cajole Brad into modeling his hat when he caught David following and saying something to Blaine. Blaine answered before shaking his head and Dave looked between Kurt and Blaine before it seemed like he registered something (they'd been broken up for four days and nothing had really changed, except the handholding and sporadic kisses disappearing to be replaced by random shoulder bumps and once, in Glee, a head-on-shoulder moment) before he blinked it away and approached Kurt.
"So..." he began, and Kurt felt his stomach flutter in response to the nervous look on David's face. "What'd you think?" And if the gravelly, vulnerable tone was followed by the color rising on Kurt's cheeks, well, the stage lights were still shining on them, bright and hot. It's called a coincidence.
"It was beautiful, David. I'm really proud that you shared it with me- with us. It means a lot," Kurt spoke quietly, his voice drifting at the end as David looked earnestly into his eyes.
"Couldn'ta done it without you," Dave replied, voice still slightly husky and nervous. Kurt felt his eyes flutter.
"Excuse me, credit where it is due, please," Rachel interrupted, and with her voice came a flood of noise that had faded to a faint background buzz as Kurt had looked at David.
"You're right, sorry. I owe you, Rachel," Dave said sincerely, but Rachel shook her head with a beaming smile.
"Nope, I think we worked in trade," she replied in a quiet, serious, but happy tone. "You're quite the gentleman, Mr. Karofsky," she said, and curtsied to him cheekily before practically skipping over to Finn.
As they all slowly drifted towards the hallway, Kurt got an idea in his head and left David with a, "You really were amazing today. I'll see you on Sunday," and a squeeze to his hand.
Kurt was then off to the booth in the mall that sold bootleg movies if you knew the right password - more evidence that the people in Lima had no life and were nutballs crazy.
On Sunday Kurt changed things up and had asked Dave to come to his house instead. When Dave got to the Hudmel residence he was greeted by Finn.
"What's up man, where's the little woman?" Dave asked, not even trying to mask the affection in his tone. Rachel really grows on a person, like mold that cures a disease or something.
"Nicole just got back so all the girls went to the hospital," Finn explained. "But I'm goin' to Puck's to play COD 'cause Kurt took over the TV and silent films aren't my thing."
Dave gave Finn a strange look before he heard an indignant noise from the stairs.
"You've been with Rachel far too long and picked up the awful habit of spoiling things," Kurt said with a pout.
"Spoiling what? Are we watching a silent film about like, homoeroticism in the days of old?" Dave inquired, since their Sunday meetings were usually all business.
Finn made his signature scrunched up face, saying, "Uh yeah, I'm gonna get ready to go," before darting up the stairs, a pink hue on his cheeks.
Kurt was still chuckling and Dave let out an evil smirk before he gestured for Kurt to elaborate.
"So what is it?" he asked eagerly. He loved silent films. They were wonderous to him.
Kurt let out a long suffering sigh. "If you must know, I happened to purchase an illegal but quite stunning copy of "The Artist" and it, along with a bowl of popcorn and pretzels, are awaiting us in the TV room."
Dave's mouth dropped open before he tore off his sneakers, dropped his backpack and jetted into said room.
Kurt followed with an affectionate shake of his head and upward tilt of lips.
"I read up a little on this and tried not to spoil it for myself but there might be a couple, uhm, sensitive scenes in it for you?" Kurt wanted to make sure this didn't get ruined by the potentially triggering scenes. "Apparently the main character is a bit self-destructive," he emphasized.
"Really?" David queried. "All the previews made it look so happy."
Kurt shook his head with a smirk. "It's French, David. They don't really do perky."
Dave laughed and nodded.
"Go ahead and put it on. I think I'll be okay, thanks for the warning. I just can't believe you're about to watch a silent film."
"Yes well, the sacrifices we make for friends, right?" Kurt said with a soft smile, and didn't notice when Dave's own smile tightened imperceptibly at the 'f' word.
It was forgotten as Kurt and David shared a tissue box during the climax of the film, and when their hands met on the couch neither of them moved until the film had ended.
Kurt had even laid his hand on Dave's thigh during the more emotional scenes and it squelched most of the thoughts that had begun racing through his head.
It hit him when he got home and his cheeks ached from smiling while his balls ached from one too many aborted boners; he was really in way too deep.
Somewhere between leaving Kurt's house on Sunday and walking in to his first Glee rehearsal on Monday, Dave had agreed to perform a song for the benefit (texting Kurt when he's tired was a bad idea - after Kurt had countered Dave's 'I'm not comfortable singing a solo' with, 'I'll sing back up, it will be good practice for my range.' Dave couldn't think of a reason not to... but Dave had managed to sneak in a condition of his own, of course; couldn't sacrifice all of the power.)
The benefit was on SATURDAY. As in only five days away. Is this how they always functioned, Dave wondered aloud.
Finn's weak, "We perform better when we're loose," sounded like a bad idea to Dave, who was used to practicing things consistently.
Kurt nudged David softly. "It's not about the quality of the performance, ("Which will inevitably be great because we're all very talented. I should know," Rachel piped in) it's about the feeling behind it. You'll do wonderfully, David. I believe in you."
Dave snuck a glance at Blaine when Santana said, "God, you're making my teeth rot," but he seemed distracted by his phone, and Kurt merely rolled his eyes and directed David to a seat.
Everyone revealed their different performance ideas and they settled on an order before doing vocal warm ups.
They were going to open with a group performance of "Keep Holding On" and decided to practice that song today. Most of them still knew the words and were quick to remember the choreography. Brittany, Mike, Tina, and Rachel helped Dave, Sugar, and Rory after they'd run through it as a group a few times. Everyone else drifted to do their own thing; Finn was practicing a dance behind the closed office door while Puck sat in a corner, practicing the guitar chords and quietly singing the song Dave had suggest for him. Guy had been pretty withdrawn recently and Dave figured he'd sing the hell out of the song.
Artie was talking to Lauren Zizes in the hallway, who was going to be setting up cameras to film the show from a few different angles so they could make a nice video for Quinn.
As he watched the organized chaos around him Dave felt, for a moment, like he may never feel sad again as long as he had this. Rachel was infuriatingly correct: being a part of something special made him feel special. It was like for once he finally belonged, fit in somewhere, warts and all.
When he confided this in Santana as everyone was leaving, her saccharine response of, "If anyone belongs on the island of misfit toys it's you, big foot," does nothing to dull the light in his eyes. Then she pulled a sneak attack and smacked a kiss onto his cheek before wandering off to find Brittany. He really would never understand chicks.
The middle of the week got a little bumpy when the group was informed that on Tuesday evening the doctors had removed the pins from Quinn's left hand, and on Wednesday she was brought to her first session of physical therapy. Her leg was healed enough that she would be walk on a crutches soon but THAT couldn't happen until her hand was working better. As it was her collarbone was still healing as well, so they were relying on the wheelchair and flexing her legs the best they could every few times a day.
Dr. Swanson had informed a listless Quinn that her hand was healing well and that, aside from her physical therapist massaging and manually manipulating it (mindful of Quinn's still healing collarbone that made attempting to grab her own hand, not that she had, dangerous to it's still fragile state) her therapy would, at first, include her attempting to pick up blocks, before she could move on to a ball. Once she could grip the ball she would squeeze it to gain strength and dexterity. She was also looking forward to various other exercises in which she'd be picking up items of random size and texture.
"She's not doing it, though," Tina told them on Friday. She'd volunteered to miss the first GSA the day before to keep Quinn company and get an update from Judy and Nikky.
The turnout for the GSA had been even better than Kurt had expected, the tone of the group inquisitive and, if a little skeptical, completely open. Kurt wanted to avoid being long winded and instead they'd done some ice breaking exercises (that some people had mocked, at first, but ended up enjoying) to try to evoke a shared sense of trust and safety.
The biggest shock of the evening hadn't been Puck's teary eyes at a sophomore girl's recitation of her gay cousin's bashing, or Dave actually opening up about his suicide attempt, but the long embrace at the end of the evening on Kurt's doorstep.
"I must say, that was amazing. You were amazing," he'd summed up to David, those blue green, beautiful and haunting eyes shining up at the built boy, the streetlight gleaming in the corners of both. Dave had nodded with a wide smile in agreement, feeling so proud of what they'd accomplished. "You've grown so much David. I'm so, so happy you didn't-" Kurt choked up and practically dive bombed into Dave's arms where he'd been tightly embraced, breathing in David's oak and pine scent, until his father had swung the door open.
They'd pulled apart and Dave grunted out a, "'Night Kurt, Mr. Hummel," before taking off towards his car.
Burt, for his part, looked completely nonplussed before asking, "How was the meeting?"
Kurt sat in the choir room and forced himself to listen as Tina described the way Quinn would sit there and allow the physical therapist to massage and stretch out her hand, but when she was called upon to make an attempt with the blocks she would either bat them away or simply lay her scarred hand in her lap and go into ignore mode. Kurt wasn't sure how anyone else was handling things, but for his part he found himself either distracting from, or recklessly indulging in, the hub bub of emotions rattling around inside of him. They shifted day to day but they were always there, in some form, blaringly loud and dysfunctional.
Between worrying about Quinn, feeling guilty for neglecting visits to her, and trying to keep David compartmentalized as 'friend/teammate/fellow GSA student advisor', Kurt was having a hard time recognizing his life. He struggled most with the last task, especially when they were rehearing for the benefit and he would catch himself staring at David's arms, or his lips as they formed the lyrics, or his hand wrapped around the microphone...
It was all very distracting and Kurt was glad he'd chosen to stay home tonight so he could work on organizing his thoughts and feelings (either in to 'TO DEAL WITH' box or the 'IGNORE - DANGER' box) and rehearse his own solo for the benefit one more time. He couldn't believe David had talked him into singing it, but at the same time now that he thought about it, it was the only song that would have fit.
It was the fact that David seemed to know that that left him slightly breathless. Blaine used to suggest songs for Kurt to perform all of the time but they were always predictable, never songs that would force Kurt to break out of his box. The younger performer usually saved those sort of ideas for himself, Kurt thought, not unkindly. David seemed to cancel out Kurt's own ego, while his and Blaine's had seemed to rub against each other in an uncomfortable way, like bad fabric against sensitive skin.
Kurt chastised himself for comparing them (again; it kept happening) because there was no need for a comparison because David was just his friend.
Kurt wrapped up that thought bubble and stuffed it in the Ignore box, but it was a wriggling, stubborn thing. He knew it would get out again.
Saturday came quickly and the McKinley kids were beside themselves with the turnout. They'd charged $8 a head and every seat was filled. They'd advertised for it on Facebook and Twitter and people from every surrounding county had come out to support the young girl whose accident had broken the heart of a small town.
Lauren had agreed to sit with Quinn that night as everyone else was performing, and between her and Santana, Judy and Nikky had been convinced to go. (They later found out that the wrestler and Quinn had held a five minute long conversation about the hazards of Glee for your social standing, and Lauren even caught a hint of irony in the blonde's otherwise still empty tone, before she'd asked Lauren if she regretted leaving Glee. When Lauren had answered with a halting, "No... and yes," Quinn had nodded and ended the conversation by closing her eyes.)
Mr. Schuester announced the commencement of the production before the houselights slowly dimmed and blue and white lights lit the stage.
From the first note of "Keep Holding on" the audience was hooked. When that led in to "Shake It Out", Tina singing lead with nary a tremor of nerves, a number of audience members were on their feet, dancing, singing, and clapping along.
As the song faded the stage darkened before a lone spotlight landed on Sam with a guitar, whose acoustic rendition of "Simple Man" brought prickles of tears to many eyes. By the time Rory, Sam, Finn and Artie finished their accapella performance of "Danny Boy" there were tissues in most hands, including the awaiting performers backstage.
The hues of blue lighting changed to green as Puck approached the microphone, the spotlights disappearing and stage lights glowing to reveal the band and each male New Directions member behind him on stage.
As they performed "Running Up That Hill", Puck's voiced filled with obvious emotion, a light show danced with them, even further entrancing the audience so that by the time the applause for their spectacular number had simmered down there was an almost reverent hush as they waited for more.
"That's our cue," Kurt whispered to a slightly trembling David, who forced his feet to walk out to his mark. He couldn't really see the crowd over the spotlights that popped onto he and Kurt, but he could sense Kurt next to him and as the music of "Dust In The Wind" began to drift around him he allowed himself to get lost in the poignant song.
Dave was so focused on the swell of feeling that had built in him he didn't register the applause. Only Kurt's hand in his jarred him out of his haze and he bowed quickly, not even caring that he was wearing a dopey grin for all to see.
Kurt pulled him off the stage as Mr. Schuester took the mic to announced that the TroubleTones would be performing (to give New Directions a water/bathroom break) before they were to be treated with the dance styling of Brittany S. Pierce and Mike Chang.
Dave sipped his water as everyone chattered around him, Sugar's voice belting out the chorus of "Ironic" floating softly into the room when Mr. Schuester opened the door.
"Great news guys; between the ticket profits and donations we've collected, we've raised almost $2000. And we're only halfway through the donation envelopes, which keep coming in. I'm so proud of you guys! But I gotta go!" And he sped off back to the auditorium.
Before Dave knew what was going on everyone was huddled into a group hug, Rachel's stage makeup covered face pressed into Dave's back (good thing he had taken his jacket off) while Dave wrapped his arms around Santana's middle and squeezed, eliciting a squawk from the girl and earning himself a punch in the arm.
After they released one another Kurt drifted to the door where he was chatting with Mike and Brittany as they loosened up when Mr. Schue's head peeked back in. "You're on in 30," he said briskly to the dancers, and Kurt rolled his eyes at his teacher's dramatics before he told them to break a leg. The loss of chatter allowed the constricting tendrils of anxiety to creep up. Again. This was worse than the "Defying Gravity" drama.
"Would you stop, you look like you have ants in your pants," Dave spoke from his right, making him jump. "Still don't get why you're so worked up. You won't even tell anyone what you're performing. Even the programs say "A Surprise Performance by Kurt E. Hummel". I mean I knew you were a diva but-"
"Uh! It's a lot of pressure! This song is something of reverence, quite a lot to live up to. Maybe you don't realize quite how talented Jeff Buckley was," Kurt responded, going for condescending and landing closer to panicked.
"I may not know a lot but I know you always seem to supercede expectations, and I expect later you'll be trying to remain modest when everyone tells you how talented you are... not that they didn't know already. I mean aren't all those Broadway songs you sing classics? You never have a problem with them."
Kurt rolled his eyes to cover up the heat in his cheeks.
"C'mon, I sang Frank Sinatra, Fancy (the first time David had called him that during a good natured debate he'd instantly apologized, but he'd said it with blatant affection and Kurt had preened and instantly made him take back the apology; 'You think I'm fancy, David. It's an observation, not an insult.'). Ol' Blue Eyes is a lot to live up to, but I did it. And I'm not near as talented as you," Dave continued, and Kurt would have told him to stop sucking up if he didn't know that David really thought that to be one of life's rules; the Super Bowl was on a Sunday, watching Grey's Anatomy lost you an eyebrow (shoulda known then, yeah?), and Kurt Hummel sang better than any Broadway singer David had ever heard.
And then Rachel pulled her ninja routine of popping in out of nowhere. "Kurt, you're in charge. Finn's still a bit pouty on losing the solo in a Queen song so I'm trusting you to organize everyone. I'm on next, so you guys have two and a half minutes," she let out in one breath, nodding to herself before taking off out of the door just as the last beats of "Teardrop" echoed, clashing with the sound of her heels, down the hallway.
Kurt turned to David's flushed face and put a hand on the other boy's arm. The 'IGNORE – DANGER' box flew open and Kurt was hit with the memory of how nice it'd felt, being held in David's strong arms...
"I want to watch her sing so I'm gonna - " Kurt got his mind back to the task at hand and drifted to the group to get everyone moving, running about to check that they were all accounted for. But once they were backstage he couldn't help but drift over to David.
"Thank you," he whispered and, without overthinking, softly joined their hands together, interlacing their fingers while trying to slow his speeding heart.
Dave looked at Kurt with the same tenderness that was in Rachel's voice as she sang out "Keep Breathing", both of them finally looking away as the song built and then faded, tears twinkling on Rachel's cheeks like stars as she bowed before moving back to allow Santana to take center stage, joining the rest of New Directions as they got into position.
Finn had excitedly brought up "You're My Best Friend" as they'd tried to think of a cheerful group song and there'd been no objections until Finn had assumed he'd be singing lead. Santana had scoffed in his face, or like more accurately his chest. "I was her first friend when she transferred here. No one else gets to sing this song."
Kurt watched Santana sing as if Quinn was right in front of her, just shy of being vulnerable, and reminded himself he wasn't the only one stepping out of his comfort zone tonight.
They transitioned smoothly in to "Kings and Queens", a song Rachel thought up for Finn to sing lead on. He'd been mostly disappointed because Quinn had always referred to Queen songs as 'crowd favorites', but once he'd heard the lyrics he'd realized this song fit him and his ex-girlfriend much better.
Once again most of New Directions disappeared offstage and left Artie with the band as Brittany, Tina, and Rachel sang back up to his rendition of "I Don't Want to Be."
"I'm nervous, Kurt," Mercedes confided in a shaky whisper, already in place behind the curtain, waiting for her cue.
"You're going to kill it, 'Cedes," Kurt reassured.
"Yeah, if I don't start crying like a baby," she admitted, hugging Kurt before he wandered off to do some breathing exercises.
When she stepped on to the stage and belted out "Hero" Kurt lost count of his breaths as he watched in awe, crying the tears 'Cedes held back until David tugged on his arm.
"You're on in twenty," he nudged expectantly. Kurt collected himself, dabbing softly at his cheeks and checking his clothes before moving behind the curtain to take his place to enter the stage.
As Mercedes passed him she squeezed his elbow and gave him an encouraging smile. "You were great," he whispered, before grabbing up a stool and walking into the spotlight. He sat himself daintily on it as the mournful guitar riffs of "Hallelujah" began.
He sang the song with his eyes closed, wishing Quinn was in front of him, hoping that when (if) she watches the video she'll be able to see everything Kurt's trying to say, everything he was sure she wouldn't actually hear if he said it to her, anyway.
As he sang out the last 'hallelujah' Kurt was able to make out Dave's face between the curtains of left stage and he took in the open wonder on the other boy's face before his training kicked in and he got up to bow, beckoning Rachel out to join him as they gave their all to "For Good". As they hit the last harmonizing notes they looked at each other and knew that singing it here and now was more meaningful than any performance on a Broadway stage could ever be.
The final curtain call was a blur of everyone involved coming on stage for a final bow, and the members of New Directions were finally able to slip off stage as Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury, and Coach Bieste thanked the audience for coming.
"The Mighty Quinn" played just above the low hum of conversation as the audience trickled out, and it seemed to top off the production perfectly.
"I told you-" Dave began once they were back in the choir room, but was cut off by everyone clambering on all side. There were so many voices, some of them aimed at Kurt, and he felt slightly like he'd had a triple shot espresso after shot gunning a Red Bull.
"I'm going to have "Hero" stuck in my head for a MONTH!"
"I still have goose bumps!"
"Better watch out Satan, you looked almost warm and fuzzy when you sang that song."
"You should ask Davey what sort of tricks I have in my weave, Puckerman."
"You can never tell Rachel I said this, but you and she would make a wicked Glinda and Elphaba. Heh. Get it?"
"What happened to, 'Jeff Buckley's music isn't theatrical enough'?"
"It was really great bro, but I still don't get the big deal about everyone know what you were singing."
"Frankenteen, I used to think your cluelessness was due to a backup of manjuice but your IQ just might have gotten worse since you started boning Berry. It's ridiculous."
And so it continued, the room filling up more than it emptied as family members arrived and no one seemed inclined to leave. Kurt, for his part, didn't particularly want the night to end. He knew the novelty of being surrounded by the people he loved would be sorely missed when he was going to school in NYC.
In all of the commotion Kurt got a final glimpse of David waving goodbye, Paul shouting something that Kurt couldn't make out before they disappeared.
As Kurt poured himself into bed later night his phone chirped, alerting him to a new text.
'you made Jeff proud tonight. dad said a lady next to him kept saying "an angel, he sings like an angel" lol. i THINK that's a good thing ;P. night, see ya tmrw.'
'Couldn'ta done it without you. Good night, David.'
He smiled to himself as he repeated the words David had said to Kurt after his Glee audition. His head sunk into the pillow and he drifted off quickly, "Fly Me To The Moon" his lullaby.
Kurt prepared the information he had compiled for PFLAG (they'd given most of their attention to the GSA to get it up and running as soon as possible) and headed down the stairs to the front door where his dad seemed to be waiting for him.
"I'll be eating at David's tonight so don't worry about me. I've finally convinced him to watch a musical and I landed on "West Side Story". Can you believe he's never seen it? Rachel about had a conniption," Kurt said, laughing airily as he slipped on his boots and grabbed up his coat.
"You think that's such a good idea, kiddo?" Burt asked in his 'we're-about-to-have-a-conversation-neither-of-us-will-enjoy' voice.
"Watching a movie with David? Been there, done that Dad. No biggie."
"Yeah, but this is different," Burt insisted, with a hint of question to his voice.
"How, pray tell?" Kurt asked, apprehension at where this may be going washing over him. He couldn't ignore things once his dad acknowledged them and he had been doing so well (mostly).
"It's a love story Kurt. Don't tell me you don't see how obviously in lo-"
"David only thinks he... It's only because he didn't know anyone else who was gay and formed a weird attachment. But we've moved past that and we're friends."
Kurt didn't mention how now, though, David knew more gay people than he did with how often he'd frequented Scandals. Or how he'd told Kurt, 'Meh, they're not my type' before blushing and changing the subject when Kurt had asked about any possible romantic interests.
"Ya don't think you're projecting there a little?" his dad asked, and seriously, how did his dad know him so well? "Like, ya know, with you and Blaine..."
"I understood your allusion, thanks," he snapped, then mumbled, "Sorry," at his father's pointed look.
"No one's ever been able to tell you anything you didn't want to hear," Kurt opened his mouth to object but snapped it shut at another look from Burt, who continued patiently. "That's the Hummel in you and usually it warms me, but Dave turned out to be an alright kid and I'd hate to see him get hurt. 'specially if you're the one doin' the hurting."
Kurt gaped openly, and he'd swear he meant to guffaw and make a pithy comment about how much things had turned around (his DAD was worrying about DAVID KAROFSKY), but he ended up whispering, "I don't want to hurt him." A beat passed. "But you need to stop worrying. Your heart - "
"Is fine." Burt walked over and clapped his hand on Kurt's shoulder, looking at him softly before walking away, muttering about it not being his heart he was worried about and star crossed love.
Kurt hastily threw on his jacket and decided to push the conversation to the back of his mind, lest he allow it to color his time with David.
When Kurt arrived at the Karofsky's twenty minutes early (Had he been that eager? Good thing his father had stopped him to talk about - nope, never mind) he saw a woman leaving whom he recognized from photographs. It was David's mother.
David had shared, during the first GSA meeting, that he'd chosen the night of The Incident because Wednesday nights used to be the night once a week (or month, or whenever she deigned them worthy of her time) that his mother came by for a 'family dinner'. The distraught teen had figured it'd be better if his Dad wasn't alone when he found his son.
Those random dinners had ended, of course, as soon as his mother had reacted to her son's attempt on his own life with damnation and the solution of brainwashing.
Kurt wondered what she was doing there and was extremely grateful that he had tinted windows, just in case she knew about him; he didn't want to make it worse for David if she saw him there. Kurt waited a full ten minutes after she drove off to exit his vehicle and approach the door, the movie clenched tighter than necessary in his hand as he used the other to ring the bell.
"Hey," David greeted with a smile that managed to reach his bloodshot eyes.
Kurt felt the concern flutter in his chest.
"You alright?" slipped out, even though Kurt had decided waiting to come in made it seem creepy to know that David's mom had been there. Hopefully David just thought Kurt could read him that well.
"Yeah," Dave answered slowly, eyeing Kurt strangely. "Katrina just left, probably won't be seeing her again unless her cult leader, sorry, I mean pastor, decides that homos AREN'T going to eviscerate the world, but whatever." He let out a bark of a laugh that made Kurt cringle before shrugging his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance. "But on to better things - whatcha got for me?" he motioned eagerly to the movie and the bag slung over Kurt's shoulder. Kurt decided to let it drop, for now.
"Some PFLAG information and a timeless film that seems to have escaped your repertoire. So, work or play?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows, but the heated look on David's face made Kurt's mouth go dry and he forced out a cough before averting his eyes, shrugging out of his jacket and sitting down to remove his boots.
"Work first and, uh," this time it was David who coughed, "play later."
"I love a man with his priorities straight, no pun intended," Kurt said lightly before turning to walk into the kitchen, cursing himself for the (not exactly subtle) flirting. It'd just... slipped out! And if it was any other friend it would have come out as a light hearted joke but now...
It was his dad's fault, Kurt decided, for putting those thoughts into Kurt's head in the first place. He and David were just friends! Kurt had forgiven him for the past, David had forgiven Kurt for being absent in his time of need, and they'd moved forward. And that. was. that. Kurt sat at the kitchen table and distracted himself with the printouts of suggested starter kits for new chapters.
Meanwhile Dave stood in the foyer, dumbstruck, before picking up a pillow from the cushioned window seat and screaming in to it. It did not help that Kurt had just sat next to the pillow and it had picked up his scent.
"David?" Kurt called out, and Dave adjusted his pants and walked in to the kitchen, hoping the lighting in the kitchen didn't highlight his blush.
Twenty minutes later Kurt caught Dave fidgeting for the third time and asked if he wanted to take a break.
Dave decided it was now or never, screwed his courage up, and dove in head first.
"Can I ask you two questions?"
"Shoot."
"One, why haven't you gone to see Quinn again, and two, what's going on with you and Bland - er, Blaine?" Dave really hoped Kurt didn't catch that slip.
"Oh."
No answer was forthcoming from the countertenor; the silence started to stretch on, Kurt's eyes moving about the room.
"Sorry, that was personal," Dave began, voice slicing through the silence like a hot knife through butter. His words seemed to ground Kurt.
"I always ask you personal questions and you answer with no qualms, each and every time."
"'s different, I get why you don't trust me-"
"What?" Kurt gave David's dejected look a stern glare. "I do trust you, David." His glare disappeared. "The reason I hesitated... it wasn't you being the one asking, it was the questions themselves." Dave remained quiet, waiting and hoping for Kurt to continue. After taking a few soothing breaths, he did.
"The first question is complicated, so I'll answer the second one first. Did that sentence make sense?" A deep breath. "Anyway. Blaine." He gave David a look that let him know his little slip had been noticed, but the twitching corner of Kurt's lip told him he wasn't in trouble. "We broke up almost 2 weeks ago," he answered like it was no big deal, and Dave looked like Kurt'd just told him that the guy who wore the Barney suit was a kid killing cannibal.
"What?! But he's, like, perfect? And you guys are still, like, attached at the hip. What happened? Or ya know, if you don't wanna tell me it's okay."
"We've remained friends because we figured out that's what we were meant to be," Kurt answered, short and sweet. It really had been so simple, but being an observer Kurt understood why David found it so unbelievable. Everyone seemed to think he and Blaine were the quintessential example of young gay love. That had been a big part of the problem.
"As for him being 'perfect', that doesn't exist," Kurt continued. "Or, he may very well be perfect for someone else, say Sebastian-"
"Wha?!"
"Mm, there's no accounting for taste, but yes. To me, Blaine was... he like a space heater. Reliable, comforting... but I think I want someone who's an inferno. Much more risk is involved, yes, but surviving the flames would be so rewarding," Kurt opened his eyes, not knowing when they'd closed. "Blaine and I couldn't find that together."
Kurt didn't mention that sometimes he remembers (albeit wrongly channeled but still) fiery passion and a kiss in a locker room. In another world...
"So I guess that's what he meant," Dave said mostly to himself, but Kurt caught it.
"What who meant?" he asked, hoping his face didn't betray the thoughts running through his mind; what if, what if...
"Blaine. After my audition I asked him if you were okay, if he knew what was up with you and Quinn, and he said not really, and that I'd have better luck asking Rachel or Finn, but I never got around to it." Dave didn't say that he'd already known, from simple observation, that Kurt didn't talk about Quinn to anyone. Except, maybe now, him.
"Which brings us to your first question. Quinn."
There was a short silence again before Kurt spoke slowly, a pained expression on his face.
"It's hard to explain, but seeing her like that... the last time we spoke, before the accident, we were civil at best because we'd disagreed about something-"
"Oh yeah, um, I have a message from her."
"You've seen her? She spoke to you?" Kurt asked, stunned.
"Yeah, the day you rain checked our meeting-"
"That was the day Blaine and I..."
"Oh." Explained a lot, Dave thought. "So yeah, I was feeling restless and before I knew it I was in her hospital room. And she said," he closed his eyes, wanting to remember the exact words. "She said she was wrong, she was sorry, and she really can't understand. I didn't tell you 'cause you, ya know, never talk about her."
Kurt felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Did she think he wasn't visiting her because of the disagreement? Of course he was, in a roundabout way, but only because he figured she may not want to see him, and she had enough on her plate as it was.
"Oh god, I'm an idiot," he whispered harshly, his voice croaking as his throat clogged and tears sprang to his eyes. His hand automatically reached for Dave's while Dave surreptitiously moved his chair so he was angled close enough to put an arm around Kurt.
"No you're not, you had your reasons," Dave soothed quietly.
"It's no excuse; I've been a horrible friend. No, I have! I just... I couldn't see her like that. She used to have an icy veneer but not around us, not anymore. The night she woke up she looked right through all of us. Even when she spoke, it was like we weren't there. Like she wasn't there. Rachel cries all of the time because she never lets herself do it when she's with Quinn, but I'm not sure I could keep my composure." His voice got small. "I've never done so well in hospitals."
"I could go with you," Dave offered automatically.
"David, I couldn't ask you," he said, pulling away to dry his face.
'You could ask anything of me', was on the tip of Dave's tongue when Kurt's phone chirped.
"I'm going with you," Dave said firmly instead, and Kurt searched his face. "Whenever you're ready, I'm there." He knew it wasn't much, since Kurt would never have had to go alone anyway, but it was all he could think to offer.
Kurt gave him a pitiful smile.
"So then never, yes?" he suggested, ignoring Dave's stern look as he reached for his phone.
"Mr. Schue has news for us, told us to be there 'with bells on' tomorrow," Kurt relayed before tucking the phone away and letting out a deep sigh. "I need to watch fake people be miserable, can we save this stuff for another time and put the movie on?"
"Great idea," David agreed.
"They're the only kind I have," Kurt attempted humor and Dave picked it up and ran with, laying over exaggerated praises on Kurt so that he was bowing as Kurt took a seat, laughing at the other teen's antics.
When the movie ended Kurt sniffled and looked down to see Dave's reaction but the other boy was asleep, sprawled out on the couch, his head precariously close to resting on Kurt's thigh.
"Are you serious?" he whisper-yelled, startling Dave awake. The other boy popped up, looking groggily from the scrolling credits to Kurt's perturbed countenance before chuckling and rubbing his eyes.
"Sorry," he yawned out and chuckled a little more before asking, "How'd it end?"