Author's note: We are now on the brink of canon. I think if you remember this season, you will know what I'm talking about. If not, I think you need to work on your reading foreshadowing skills. I am truly sorry for the events that are about to take place, but I will make it up to you, I promise.

Chapter Seven

"You've been acting a little off tonight." Sebastian commented as he drove Dave back to his car.

"Just been a long day." He said softly. "Thanks for helping me with my homework."

"Any time, babe."

He stared out the window.

Sebastian reached over and caressed his cheek. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

Dave leaned into his touch. "I'm fine. I'm just tired, babe."

"You can tell me anything."

Dave caught his hand and kissed it without a word.

"If it's that dickhead on your team—"

"I can handle it, Sebastian."

He pulled into the parking lot beside Dave's car. "I just care about you, baby."

"I know. But I'm fine. I have this."

Sebastian nodded and then leaned over and kissed the other boy softly.

Dave kissed back almost desperately, cupping the back of Sebastian's head. He pulled back. "Call me when you make it home."

"Will do."

Dave sat in his car when he got home. He looked at his phone. He had not taken it off silent all day, but had felt it buzzing almost non-stop since that initial text. He hadn't wanted to deal with what nasty words might have been sent his way after the text that morning. He should have turned it off completely, but he knew if his dad called and he left it off, he might get in trouble.

There were a dozen texts from classmates. He opened up his inbox and deleted all of them except one from Sebastian saying, "Just a text to say hi. And that I really want to make out with you. Okay, it's actually just a text to tell you I want to make out with you. Call me when you can." It had been sent around lunch.

Dave smiled as he got out of his car. He punched in Sebastian's number as he headed inside. "I just now looked at my phone and saw your text."

"Yeah, I figured you would have said something."

"Sorry."

"Hey, it's okay, baby. I don't expect you to look at your phone every ten seconds waiting for my texts or calls."

"Yeah." He waved at his dad as he passed the living room.

"I'm kind of worried, Dave." Sebastian said softly.

"About what?"

"You. Did something happen today? And don't avoid the question."

Dave lay back on the bed. "Yeah." He said softly. "Brock started in first thing this morning. And he sent out a mass text saying 'Dave Karofsky likes cock.'"

"Baby." Sebastian said softly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to ruin the evening." He took a shaky breath. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I know some people who could teach that asshole a lesson."

"It's okay, Sebastian. I can handle it."

"If you need me…"

"I know."

"I'm pulling into my driveway."

"Good. It's late. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. I'm going to text you every hour." He chuckled. "And you better answer every one, you got it?"

Dave laughed softly, "Okay. Good night, babe."

"Good night."

After as he hung up the phone, he stared blankly at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

Dave had received more texts in the night and that morning. He'd read them, not thinking, and had been told by a couple people how "disgusting" and "vile" and "unnatural" he was for being gay. One text was from a boy who said he'd "make sure to say a few extra prayers" for him in the hopes that he would "see God's light."

He threw the phone across the room at that. The back popped off and the battery flew out, but they were easily repaired on his out-of-date phone. Sebastian's would have been broken to the point of needing repair. And his dad would have probably just bought him a new one. Dave's dad couldn't afford that. He could barely afford the plan as it was; much less purchase a new phone.

He turned it off after that and left it at home for the day. Of course he sent Sebastian a quick text to say his phone was acting up and not to freak out. "I'll see what's going on with it after work."

Dave dreaded school that day. He thought about pretending to be sick. But he knew his dad would see through him and make him go anyway. So he bid his father goodbye, telling him he was leaving his phone home because there was some crazy new rule at school about them. He drove as slowly as possible. He ended up getting to school just as the first bell rang. He paused at his locker to get a few things before heading to homeroom. He slid into his desk as the tardy bell tolled.

"Did loverboy have you up late, Karofsky?" Brock whispered in his ear.

Dave clinched his teeth and kept his face forward. Some in the class stared at him secretly and a few more blatantly. The teacher went on with the lecture, seemingly oblivious. It was like that the rest of the day.

Football practice that afternoon was the same as the day before. He was hit hard and knocked down. But he got back up every time, even when every bone in his body felt like it was bruised.

He stood in the shower a few seconds longer to try to ease the ache. The rest of the guys stayed as far away as they could, leaving the showers closest to Dave free. This meant several more of the guys than normal were waiting to shower.

Dave angrily turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. He went to his locker and stopped short. Someone had spray-painted "fag" across the door.

He swallowed and opened the door with shaky hands. He dressed just as unsteadily and then ran out of the building. He drove home and called in sick to work. Then he took a look at his phone. There were more texts. He ignored them and opened up one from Sebastian.

"Date tonight?"

He sent back, "Too much homework."

"You always have too much homework."

"Junior year, babe."

"Can I at least come over and keep you company?"

"I really can't be distracted."

"I'm sorry I'm such a distraction."

"You know what I mean."

The phone started ringing. He picked it up.

After the initial curt greetings, Dave said, "I'm sorry, babe. I need time to myself. We've been together a lot lately."

"So now I'm smothering you?" Sebastian accused.

"That's not what I said."

"It's what was implied."

"You know what, screw it, Sebastian. Yeah, I'm feeling a little smothered. It's like you're taking all the affection your dad didn't give you and you're over-compensating with me."

"Fine then, be that way, David. You know, I could have already fucked you by now if you were anyone else."

"I'm sorry I'm not as much of a slut as you. I thought you liked that about me."

"I lied." He snapped. "I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you? Yesterday you were depressed and now you want a fight?"

"I think I need a break."

"Yeah, sure, so you can hide even farther in your closet. You know what, maybe if you move a few coats around, you'll find Narnia." He hung up.

Dave looked at the phone. The text menu was back up. He saw all the texts from his classmates. There were dozens. He knew he shouldn't, but he read them all. They told him again in all the possible ways how wrong he was. There was one from a number he didn't recognize telling him that "queers didn't belong on football teams with good boys who are walking the right path."

Still trembling all over, he booted up his computer and opened Facebook. He had to see. One texter had told him it was all over his page and that there was no need to hide it anymore.

That person had been right. His wall was full of people saying even worse things. A few promised to pray. There were a couple trying to defend him, but they got lost in all the put-downs and taunts.

One person wrote, "'You should just kill yourself.'"

Tears streamed down his face. You're right. He thought. He opened up his texts once more and typed one out to Sebastian. His eyes were streaming so bad, it was hard to see what he was typing. But it had to be said.

He stared at it a long time before he finally pressed the Send button.

Sebastian sat with his father in the living room. They were trying some "togetherness time" that their therapist had suggested. Both were silent as they watched an old movie that they actually both liked: Gone with the Wind.

Scarlett was marrying Charles Hamilton when Sebastian's text tone for Dave went off. He was hoping maybe it was the other boy saying he was sorry or something. But it wasn't.

"I'm sorry I'm such a horrible boyfriend. I'm sorry I'm too scared to be out in the open with you. I'm sorry I won't put out to suit your standards. I'm sorry I don't scream from the rooftops that I'm dating you because obviously you're worth it. And I actually mean that. So once I'm out of the picture, maybe you can find a guy who doesn't hide who he is."

"What the hell?" He stood and punched in Dave's number. It went to voicemail, "Dave, what the fuck was that message?"

He tried a few more times with the same result.

Laird paused the movie and watched as his son pace and called his boyfriend a few more times.

After the fourth time, Sebastian stormed out of the room, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table by the door.

"Where are you going?" his father called after him.

"To Dave's." He said shortly, slamming out of the house.