I don't own Glee.
Didn't See That Coming: Chapter 4
Dave rolled his eyes when he heard the squeaky shoes come towards his room. Soon after, Dave's day nurse Josh appeared in his line of sight with a huge smile on his face.
"Good Morning David!" He said cheerfully as he began to fluff Dave's pillows and move him around to prevent Dave from getting bed sores. Josh was humming some song under his breath and looked all around happy; just like every day when he came in to wake Dave up. Dave hated him with a fiery passion. But of course Dave didn't tell him that; in fact Dave didn't say anything. He hadn't for at least the past week and a half.
Dave let out a groan as the bed sheets were changed underneath him. The doctors continued to tell him that he was healing nicely but he thought they were on crack. How could they say he was healing nicely when he was never going to walk again? How could they say he was healing nicely when a fucking nurse had to feed him because he couldn't get his fingers to hold the spoon right? And there was still the low throb that made its way up his body every time he moved even the slightest bit. This wasn't supposed to be how Dave spent his junior year.
Josh appeared in his line of sight again, tilting the small plastic cup that held two small pain pills into Dave's mouth, followed shortly with a cup of water with a straw. Josh repeated the process with an anti-depressant the doctor had decided to start Dave on. Dave didn't know what the point was, though; he felt worse on the anti-depressants than he did before. Josh then left the room momentarily and returned with a breakfast tray that he sat on the bedside table. He grabbed the spoon and started feeding Dave.
At first Dave had been embarrassed at that thought of someone feeding him. He was 17 for Christ's sake; no one had had to feed him since he was at least three. That and there was the fact that Josh was extremely attractive; a fact that made it hard for Dave to keep focused and to deny that he was checking out another guy. But Josh was always cool about it, making small talk that he knew Dave would never answer.
"So David, how are you feeling today?" Nothing. Dave rolled his eyes and focused on forcing his fingers to curl into a fist as he slowly chewed his food.
"The doctors are going to take the back brace off soon," Josh said cheerfully, wiping a bit of spilled food off Dave's face. Again, nothing. Dave didn't care about the stupid back brace. He could die in this bed for all he cared; his life was over anyway.
Josh stayed quiet during the rest of the meal, slowly feeding Dave so he'd have a chance to chew. Finally he let out a sigh and sat the plate to the side and trained his gaze on Dave. Dave rolled his eyes and inverted his gaze, wishing the stupid neck brace was gone so he could turn completely away.
"Look Dave," Josh began, sounding conflicted. "I understand that you're upset. Trust me, dude, I get it. If I was in your position I'd be a mess. But you can't keep shutting everyone out. You haven't talked in days, and everyone's starting to get worried." Dave let out a deep breath, but didn't answer. "They're probably going to make you see a therapist soon, David. I'm not sure how that's going to work since you refuse to talk to even your family, but I think it'll be good for you."
Josh stood by the bed for a few more moments, almost as if he hoped to break Dave down with his stern, worried gaze. But Dave never spoke and finally Josh gave up, heaving another deep sigh as he went.
"And then, you're never going to believe it man, but then Coach Sue actually freaking hugged her! She hugged Quinn Fabray! I mean when have you ever seen Sue be nice to someone? Hell when have you seen Fabray be nice to someone since she popped that kid out?" Azimio sat back with his feet propped up on Dave's bed, telling him about all the happenings of McKinley. Dave didn't talk to him, either, but Azimio didn't seem to mind. Well, at least not for the most part.
"…And then Hudson and Puckerman wore tutu's and held hands and skipped down the hallway singing 'twinkle twinkle little star' at the top of their lungs!" Nothing. Dave didn't even flinch. Azimio let out a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. "Come one, man. You gotta talk to me. Just say something! Anything! It's been weeks, man. You're scaring me." Dave blinks once and then shuts his eyes, blocking out all the sounds as he falls asleep.
"We miss you out there, buddy," Coach Beiste says gently as she sits next to Dave's bed. Dave lets out a deep breath, but as always he doesn't answer. "We got Strando filling your spot during post season practice, but between you and me? That boy's lucky to be able to even put his pads on right or know which way the goal post is, let alone get a good block." Dave rolls his eyes and works on trying to get his hand into a fist again.
"I don't know what happened out their kid," Beiste said, her eyes filling with tears. "You of all people knew that damn head up speech. What were you thinking? You could have been killed! Damn it, Karofsky, talk to me!" Even Coach Beiste's angry voice, while scary, wasn't enough to pull Dave out of his funk.
He just wanted everyone to leave him alone. He wanted to die; what was the use of living if he knew he was never going to get back out on the field again. Or that he was never going to skate again; feel the sting as he slammed some other guy into the glass wall. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, it felt like his body just ended right below his waist. The doctors claimed that they were confident that he still had the use of his penis, but Dave didn't even care. He was going to be in a wheelchair the rest of his life, he was gay, and he lived in Lima, Ohio. What kind of action was he going to get other than his hand? And hell, even his hand didn't want to cooperate.
Dave thought that maybe if he was quiet long enough, everyone would forget him. He thought that they'd just leave him there to die alone so he wouldn't have to experience "the wonders of learning to live again," as Josh so cheerfully put it. He was glad that they doctors had finally taken the neck brace off of him, but that meant he was just one step closer to being moved to Otterbein, a rehab facility on the other side of town, just on the edge of Elida. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to learn how to use a wheelchair. He didn't want to learn how to dress himself or how to fucking go to the bathroom when he couldn't walk there himself. He didn't want to talk to his mom, even though that probably meant she'd stop crying at him. Dave just wanted to rewind the past month and a half and go back to the way things were; to times where he had the perfect motion down to slushie someone who didn't expect it, and he always had football and hockey to look forward to. True, at that time he missed Kurt and hated himself for forcing the boy to transfer schools. But watching Kurt had kind of gotten him into this mess, hadn't it?
Coach Beiste was crying harder at this point, and her anger had seemed to evaporate. But Dave couldn't tell you a thing she had just yelled at him. He didn't like making Coach cry; hell they'd done that enough the first couple weeks she was there. But instead of offering a kind word-or any word at all- Dave turned his head and busied himself with watching the rains drops race down the window.
Kurt rushed home from Westerville as soon as Warbler practice let out. He sped the entire way home, thankful that Burt had installed a radar detector so that Kurt could know if a cop was near. Kurt's Navigator practically slid into the parking lot of William McKinley, and he let out a groan when he realized that pretty much everyone was gone. But then he saw it-Puck's beaten up old truck, parked in the back of the parking lot near the dumpsters. Kurt had made it on time.
He jumped out of his car and ran inside, cursing Ohio weather since the day before it had been 50 degrees and sunny and now it was just above freezing and raining. He made his way down the hallway, hearing the tell-tale sound of a basketball being dribbled. When Kurt pushed open the gym door, Puck was at the foul line, shooting ball after ball into the basket. Kurt picked up a stray ball that had rolled to a stop at his feet and began dribbling as he crossed the court, moving to stand next to Puck.
"Hummel," Puck said without a hint of malice in his voice and Kurt gave him a small smile.
"Is he…Can I…I want…Can I go talk to Dave, I mean Karofksy! Can I go talk to Karofsky now?" Kurt said, cursing himself for being so nervous. Puck took one last shot before he started walking around the gym, picking up the basketballs and throwing them into the ball cart. Kurt didn't want to push so he started to help, and soon all the balls were picked up. Puck sighed and leaned his weight on the cart. Finally he looked up with a sad look on his face.
"Look Hummel…" Puck began, searching for the right words.
"I swear I won't upset him!" Kurt said, misinterpreting what Puck was trying to say.
"Kurt…you can go to the hospital if you want, but don't expect him to say anything. Karofsky has said jack shit to anyone since about a week after the accident. Hell, even Azimio can't get him to talk. He's only going to be at the hospital a couple more days and then his parents are moving him out to that rehab place in Elida. What's it called? Otterbein? God only knows how long he'll be there; Dave won't even listen so I don't see how they're going to get him to learn how to use a fucking wheelchair."
Puck's was still mumbling to himself but Kurt didn't care. Instead the Warbler turned and ran across the gym, yelling out a quick "Thanks, Puck!" before making his way back into the rain. Kurt made it to the hospital faster than he'd ever thought possible, and he soon found himself standing outside Dave Karofsky's room. Before he could get nervous, he pushed open the door. Kurt sat down stiffly in the chair next to Dave's bed and furrowed a brow when the boy didn't even look at him.
"Karofsky?" He asked quietly but Dave gave no response. Kurt bit his lip as he stood and slowly perched on the edge of the bed. He reached out and placed a shaking hand on Dave's forearm and swallowed thickly. "Dave?"
Kurt let out a relieved sigh as a moment of clarity passed Dave's bleary eyes. The larger boy shifted as if he was uncomfortable and Kurt immediately pulled his hand back. But as he was pulling away, Dave's bulky hand landed on his arm, the fingers struggling to grasp it.
"Fancy," Dave whimpered, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He looked up at Kurt's face, his hazel eyes filling with tears. As Kurt pulled the larger boy into a hug, Dave whispered "I'm sorry" through his tears, and Kurt continued to respond with "shh, it's okay. I'm sorry too" as he rubbed his back.
For the first time in over a month Dave Karofsky showed some kind of emotion. He wasn't just staring at a wall or pretending to be asleep. He was sobbing into the shoulders of the boy that he blamed for the whole mess happening in the first place, and he didn't even care.
Two days later when he was moved to Otterbein, Dave was back to his walking zombie routine. Kurt hadn't been back to see him, and Dave's pretty sure even if he had been it wouldn't have the same effect on him. He was fitted in a wheelchair the day before he was moved out of the hospital and he was sitting in it staring out the large bay window at the snow falling down. Dave gave no indication that he was listening, but he heard every word that his father and the administrator of Otterbein said.
"He's been…unresponsive lately, sir," Paul explained, his eyes flicking to Dave and back. "He's been refusing to talk to anyone, refuses to do the exercises they showed him in the hospital. I know he needs this, but I'm not sure how much help staying here is going to bring if he won't help himself."
"Don't worry, Mr. Karofsky. Dave will be here as long as he needs until he feels comfortable and that you and I believe he's ready." Dave sighed but didn't turn his head as his father started to push him back to his room. He had a feeling like he was going to be here for a long time.
AN: I hope you liked it! Please review.