Mah Lovies!
How I've missed you so. .3. I know this is a couple days old, but I've been fighting a war and a half getting to an accessible computer nowadays, and, of course, with like two chapters left, updates might be coming in slower. BUT I SHALL FIGHT THE POWER. .V.
Okay, who saw Laryngitis? Uh-MAYZEZING. I laughed, I teared up, I thought it was superspecialawesome. I'd say it earned its rightful part of fourth favorite eppy, after Ballads, Wheels, and Preggers. I also found out that it's springtime in Lima.
Damn them.
But, enough about me. Let's get to the story, shall we? I really felt comfortable with Kurt this chapter, and I really think it's one of my better ones. I hope you all feel the same!
Lessthanthree, Rhapshody.
Kurt watched as Finn went up the stairs, each footstep sounding like a sonic boom. Why was that always how these things ended? With one boy unable, or unwilling, to go after the person who was, as always, running from their problems. This morning, if Finn had only gone after Kurt, stopped him before he got in the car, before Puck caught him like a stray animal and tossed him so easily in the dumpster, then laughed as Kurt slipped on ice and hit the back of his head on the dumpster side…
Kurt swallowed hard. He'd wanted Finn to be there so bad. To protect him. But that was never going to happen now.
Inside the basement, the little soprano was finding it hard to stand. This wasn't what he'd wanted. He'd wanted to make things better. His legs were weak, and as Kurt collapsed into the small chair, he had to wonder if he was going to have to barf in his hat. Hands shaking, he took the hat off, clutching it against his face, if only for the comfort of something that was stable. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt so stupid for crying. They hadn't even been going out, but it was now clear that Finn wanted nothing to do with him. They were just done now. Whatever the past couple of weeks were, it was all done.
Kurt caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a mess, strands of his hair falling all over the place, his eyes that gaudy red that came with crying like an idiot, he could see how his nose was running, and how the hat was pressed against all of it. He'd have to burn that hat. He'd have to burn this whole outfit. Kurt attempted to make himself look human, to compose his self.
'You got what you wanted, you little bitch!'
It was like hitting a physical wall of pain, the words ricocheting around in his skull. The truth of the situation and the reality set in, and Kurt felt his throat close and his body heave. He didn't even care. His lips were surrounded with soft material as he gagged up bile, then inched over to the trash can, where he sighed as he tossed the hat away. A weak gag reflex was not going to fix his problems.
Shivering, Kurt crawled over to his couch and lay down.
That happened. That just happened. That just fucking happened.
The strange thing was, even though a few seconds earlier he'd felt totally in the right, now all he wanted was to speak with Finn. To apologize for what he'd said, to say he'd been wrong. Looking at the stairs though, he knew he wouldn't. He'd fought with his dad like this before, where they'd just had screaming matches because nothing was right in the world. And Kurt knew his place in these fights. If he went up there and told Finn how he really felt, nothing would be solved. He was in a deep enough hole already.
He painfully went over the fight in his mind. Even as he sniffled on his couch, though, Kurt knew that he hadn't been all wrong. Finn was a jerk for being ashamed of him. But at the same time, he knew, it wasn't the same for Finn, who Kurt couldn't expect to be totally okay with everything just because Finn had admitted to liking him. Kurt rolled over, hugging a couch cushion. He had to let things simmer down. He and Finn would talk it out, he knew. Things couldn't stay this bad forever. Breathing deeply into the cushions, he considered calling Mercedes for help. Calling anyone, just so someone could tell him he wasn't in the wrong. It was okay for Kurt to expect Finn to love him, wasn't it? Or was it just as Finn had said, that Kurt was just another clingy relationship that ended before it had a chance to start? Kurt had no idea, but he figured Mercedes or Tina wouldn't know either. So he instead stared at the gray wall in front of him, hoping for peace.
He must've dozed off, because when he blinked back to consciousness the world was bathed in a glow of shadows and streetlights. Kurt, painfully stiff, rolled over with a choked cry of pain. Oh, his neck, ow. Ouch, ouch, the back of his head from this morning. Thankfully, he wasn't like Puck with his near-baldness. His thick hair would hide the softball sized bruise on the back of his head perfectly.
He should show Finn that bruise. Finn would get so pissed, he'd go right off and punch Puck in the jaw, cracking it in two. Then he'd walk over to Kurt and embrace him, lifting him off his feet and holding him close. And then he'd whisper-
'I never cared about you at all.'
Kurt, along with his various other pains, felt the impact of the insult like a smack on his bruise. He had to cough quietly to fight back the fresh waves of tears. Hand reaching for a lamp, he tried to figure out what time it was. Darkness came as quick as 4:30 in Lima during the cold months. According to the clock, though, it was six thirty. His father would be home in half an hour. Carol should have already arrived. Kurt almost had to smile when he realized there would be no way their little family would find out about all this drama.
Upstairs, Kurt could hear the distinctive clacking of Carol's boots against the floor. He flinched for a second as the door above opened.
"Kurt, are you down here? I've got dinner."
Kurt forced a light 'Yeah', out of his throat before standing, balking at the idea of facing Finn. If he was still mad, Kurt knew he didn't want to face any more arguments. And odds were, with Finn's track record of decisions based off anger, there was at least one chair kicked down upstairs and Finn was still steaming.
Getting to his legs, Kurt checked his reflection in the mirror, held back a gag, and did everything possible to look human. His eyes were beyond help, they always looked like crap after he cried, but after a quick clean up session with his clothes, a trip to the bathroom to get the taste of sic out of his mouth, and far too much struggle with a hairbrush, Kurt deemed himself presentable enough to be seen by others.
Still, seeing Finn seated at the kitchen table with half an egg roll in his mouth made Kurt want to run downstairs and repeat the sobbing process all over again.
Finn's eyes were cold as Kurt sat across from him, and deciding to be boring and using a fork to dig into his Orange Chicken, Kurt could almost feel the waves of anger still coming off of Finn. Perhaps this was why Finn was one of the few highlights of the Titans. Football was about his only release for rage.
And it was basketball season. Shit.
Kurt forced down the food, mostly staring at the table as Carol sat opposite him and tried to make conversation. It wasn't normal that they all sat down family dinner style, but Kurt had followed Finn's lead and so on, so there they were.
Carol, aware of the tension but apparently in no mood to address it, cracked open a fortune cookie. As was customary, the actual 'cookie' bits went into an empty salted pork container, and she unrolled the small piece of paper.
"Hm," she sighed, breaking the silence. Kurt looked up, trying to act interested, while Finn just glanced out of the corner of his eyes.
"Love is forgiveness." Carol read, then went on to lucky numbers and the website that printed the paper. Kurt couldn't help but look at Finn as the words registered, but his only reaction was a snort. Kurt decided to take the tone and go with it, and stood up from the table to make his way downstairs. He checked his phone, had a boring conversation with Tina about arm warmers, and went to bed absolutely miserable.
Finn never came down, and Kurt safely assumed he wouldn't be doing it any time soon.
xXx
When Kurt came around again, it was morning and he felt considerably less like crap. He had taken enough pain medicine to scare him a little, his wound was no longer swollen, and even though he woke up this time with the knowledge that Finn didn't love him, it was almost like old times. Yes, yes, there would be no Finn. What else was new.
He made considerable strides in looking like a human again, nice big sunglasses to hide his still swollen eyes, hair fixed in position, a new outfit from Christmas splurging hidden away to be worn after any dumpstering. Yes, as Kurt took a deep breath and readied himself to face Tuesday morning, he really thought he was ready.
Finn cornered him upstairs and Kurt tried not to cry.
Finn, too, looked considerably less like a dragon. His eyes were still dark and unhappy and he made no moves to show affection, but he wasn't screaming or being deadly silent, so it was an improvement. He made a point of staring at Kurt through the dark glasses, and as Kurt cocked his head in a question, Finn let out a rush of words in an exasperated sentence.
"It's over. I just thought you should know that. I know you liked what we had and all, but I didn't and I'm done. Sorry for making you cry. Oh, and stay away from Puck. I won't be protecting you anymore."
And then he turned and abruptly left the house, keys in hand.
Kurt managed to not break down, only nodding into thin air as he heard Finn's car pull down the street. So that was that then. It was over. Done with. The end.
Alright. It could have been worse.
Kurt ignored the fact that his stomach was in knots as he pulled into the parking lot, looking immediately for Mercedes or Tina. Or Artie. Or anyone that wasn't Finn or Puck. No dice, as Kurt saw the be-mohawked behemoth approaching him from the south side. This time, Kurt made no attempt to not bolt out of sight, hoping that if he at least made it to the doors then some of the apparently blind faculty would help him.
Of course, though, that was not about to happen. As Kurt tried to make it to the doors, there was Puck, and in one incredibly awkward motion Kurt felt his body become weightless, then land on Puck's shoulder. Kurt wanted to scream, be he had a feeling his cries would fall on deaf ears.
And so it went. It was strange, really, how Kurt was able to feel absolutely nothing but the uncomfortable pricking of a pen cap in his back. No sadness, no rage. Like a cloud of melancholy acceptance had come over him. He waited until Puck walked away, giving someone a high-five in the process, then crawled out to find Mercedes waiting for him by the door.
"So how'd it go?" she asked, choosing to ignore the fact that he smelled like old school-brand macaroni and cheese with a hint of mold.
"How does it look? These pants are going to stain. I'm honestly petitioning to get the color red removed as a flavor of anything. Blue, I can sometimes work with, but nothing stains like red."
"Not the dumpster," Mercedes said, rolling her eyes. "Finn. I just saw him. He looked so…normal."
"As normal as he did before he decided to make me his, I assume." Kurt said, picking up his pace and making his way into the girl's room. There had stopped being drama about that long ago. Most of the girl's had the usual mindset about Kurt. He was the cute lil' gay kid that they wanted to carry around like a Chihuahua. They weren't going to be sexually harassed, so they didn't care.
"So things are bad then?" Mercedes asked. Kurt made his way into a stall.
"Not as bad as…bad. We had a huge fight yesterday and everything went to hell. I feel terrible about it, but apparently Finn never actually liked me at all, and all his care was really guilt about the shirt."
Mercedes had known about the shirt incident for some time, but didn't know Finn's half of it. Kurt spared her the details.
"So he says he doesn't care about you?"
"Yep."
"Bull."
Kurt rolled his eyes, moving quickly to remove his decoy outfit and hand it out to Mercedes, who in turn handed him his other clothes. After two incidences of a sleeve or a pant leg getting dipped in a toilet, this became their routine.
"Finn cares about you, Kurt. Somewhere in that tiny head of his. Maybe it just takes longer to register all over 'cause he's so tall."
Kurt smiled, wrinkling his nose.
"If only. But if Finn has decided he's done with me, I've decided I'm done with the plots."
"You're still head over heels with him?"
"Never stopped."
"You, boy, are hopeless."
"Especially now without Finn to keep Puck off me. Ever since the first dumpster dip, Finn's been on Puck like a hawk, trying to keep him off of me, but this morning Finn politely informed me that he was done with that too. So now I've lost my Finn-surance. I'm doomed."
"You just need a distraction." Mercedes said kindly, facing him. "You've been gaga over Finn for too long now. You need a new beau, someone who appreciates you. You may be the only gay kid here, but you never let that stop you before. Why not Jesse? He's an airhead, but he and Rachel are on the rocks right now. Sounds just like your type."
Kurt laughed. Leave it to her to make his day brighter. "Thanks but no thanks. I'm done with the love stuff for now."
Mercedes shrugged, smiling at him.
"Just don't get too down, okay? Finn's in the wrong here, not you."
Kurt nodded, smiling back. Maybe things weren't going to be so bad. This wasn't the end of the world. Once day the pain would stop and Kurt could be happy again. He turned, ready to face the world with a flourish.
And promptly got an icy blue slushie to the face.
Damn it.
xXx
Finn stomped up the stairs, blood practically on full boil. His teeth were slicing into his bottom lip and he was fairly sure he couldn't feel his left thumb. Finn knew he got angry too easily, it was a curse. But it was a curse he carried well, slamming not one, but both doors on his way outside. He revved the engine in his car and prepared to pull out, before realizing he really had nowhere to go. He was in no mood to see Brittany or Santana, the only two people who wouldn't question his motives, Puck would be with Quinn and things were still a mess with him, and for the life of him he couldn't think of a person he could go to.
'Oh, you know Artie, just relationship trouble with my boyfriend. Lah dee da.'
No. He decided he was perfectly content with sitting in his car and letting the radio drown out his anger.
What the hell was wrong with Kurt? Why didn't he understand that, as much as Finn cared about him, he still had boundaries and he still had lines he couldn't cross. Who's fault was that? And why was it so stupid for him wanting to care about a baby? Or not tell his mother he was dating his near-step-brother? Oh yes, Finn truly was the bad guy here.
'Here's to all the Broken hearts tonight!
Here's to all the far apart's tonight!
Here's to all the girls and boys who lost their joy…
They let it get away, You know it's never too late,
Get up and start all over-'
The lyrics on the speakers made Finn want to smack something. So he smacked the volume button and the radio quieted down. His mind was pulsing and he had a bitch of a headache. He knew he'd left Kurt in a very bad place, but told himself not to care. Kurt was the enemy. Kurt had insulted him, yelled at him, made him feel like shit. He had no sympathy towards the tiny brunette at the moment.
That got his mind going. All the things Kurt had put him through. The embarrassment, the confusion, the shame. Finn had never felt anything towards another guy before. Had Kurt even made him think he was gay?
Finn sighed. It was freezing in the car and he was getting nowhere. Not knowing what else to do, he turned on the signal and pressed his foot to the pedal. Where he was headed, he didn't know. But he needed to think.
There were few places in Lima where one could go to think, but one of the few was a small gas station in the middle of what some could consider the main 'town' parts. This was where Finn pulled in, planning to refill on gas and get a slushie. As he walked in, though, he found himself face to face with the sparkling hazel eyes of Quinn Fabray.
Finn wasn't sure to think when he saw Quinn. Part of him still loved her, or at least had a connection to the parts of her he didn't hate, and as she gave him a look that was of subtle recognition and little more, Finn had to fight the urge not to grab her in a tight hug.
"H-hey, Quinn." He said, his tongue dry. His anger at Kurt was replaced with the usual feelings of hurt he got when he saw the ever-forming baby-bump.
"Hi." She said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She was waiting patiently as the guy behind the counter grabbed a hot-dog and slipped it into a bun. Finn raised an eyebrow but she shook it off.
"Cravings." She said, paying slowly. She took a second look at him.
"You look like shit." She said conclusively.
"I feel like shit."
"What's wrong?"
Finn stopped himself. He wanted to talk, he really did, but he didn't know how he would say it to Quinn. Or if Quinn would tell Puck. He wanted to trust her, but after what had happened before, he wasn't about to let his guard down.
"Something happen at home? Your mom and Kurt's dad? You can tell me, I'm used to fighting parent stories."
Finn tried not to laugh.
"Nope. Everything between those two is perfect. "
"What then?"
"It's personal."
"Personal."
"Very personal. Not something I'd want going around the school. Sorry."
"I'm not the gossip, Finn. That's Brittany and Santana. And you look absolutely miserable."
"It's…" Why was he spewing this? Why couldn't he stop himself from talking? He didn't want this information out, so why was he opening up to Quinn, Puck's girlfriend, enemy A-1? He didn't know. He stared at his lap and tried to stop himself, but his jaw wouldn't shut.
"K-k-kurt and me…had something going…but…it didn't go right and now everything's wrong."
He covered his mouth, literally covered his mouth, trying to stop the words. But boom. They were out. Finn wanted to cry.
"Please don't tell Puck. He'd kill me."
He forced himself to look at Quinn whose face was of sheer shock. Without pausing, she grabbed Finn's hand and dragged him out of the store, towards her car. She practically tossed him in the passenger seat before getting in the driver's side. Her car was warm and smelled like vanilla.
"What." She said as she blasted the heat "The hell."
"I don't know." Again! Word vomit! "Like, we talked this out, there was all this drama, and suddenly I feel like I'm in love with him. But not anymore. Like, I don't know. There was so much wrong with everything."
"You." Quinn said, looking unusually slow, "And Kurt?"
"Yes, okay? We thought we had something. But we, we broke up before anything happened. Like I said. Drama. And now we just had this huge screaming match, I don't know Quinn. Maybe it was just me on the rebound."
"Don't even try and make this about me." Quinn quipped. "But, I'm sorry, it's still not registering. How did you…fall in…have something…Kurt?"
Finn looked at her. He wanted to keep talking, keep word vomiting, but he was distracted by a small picture of Puck on the dash. As Finn's eyes hit it, he locked up.
"You don't have to worry about Puck." Quinn said, taking the picture and turning it over. "I still love him, but I know what would happen if I told him. I know you're gonna think this is bull, but you can trust me."
Finn sighed, defeated. He needed this, a confidant, someone on his team. He looked out the window at the freezing outside and just let the words go.
"I don't even know what the past few weeks were with us. But, I guess, ever since I first saw Kurt, I wanted to protect him, help…"
And so it went, Finn told Quinn everything he had inside of him. The shirt, the protectiveness, how he was now thinking it was all fake, and how Kurt had ruined it all.
"So," Quinn said, "He just expected you to come right out and be all…oh hay, I'm suddenly so…open? In School? Our School? "
"Right?" Finn exclaimed. It was freeing, just getting it all out. And even if he did have some doubts about Quinn, this was the girl who planned on letting him father a baby that wasn't his based on who she loved more. Somewhere, that counted as a plus for her. Better yet, she was agreeing with him.
"That's ridiculous! Doesn't he know what would happen to you? You've worked very hard on your social status, Finn. That would kill you."
"I know! So now I'm thinking that maybe…maybe I was kind of manipulated into it. I mean, yeah, I like Kurt, he's a nice guy. But I really have to wonder how much I really, really…like him. You know?"
"Yeah," Quinn said, nodding. "Well, I think you did the right thing. That kind of pressure on you is unfair. You shouldn't look so beaten up about it. You're in the right, here."
Finn exhaled. In the past half hour, he'd gone through enough emotions to power Houston. But now that things were simmering down, he finally felt human again. He still didn't know how he was going to face Kurt without having another episode, but he figured he was better off than before.
"Thanks Quinn. It was really great talking to you."
"Yeah, it was…I still like you, Finn. You know that. Puck's my boyfriend and all, but you're still important to me."
There was a brief moment of happiness, an exhalation, and Finn was on his way back to his car, then home.
Things were going to get better. Finn would go back to the way things were. He still had friends, he still had a life. This little incident didn't have to put a dent in anything. Finn smiled as he settled into the house, just a few minutes before his mom got home with dinner. Finn happily munched the food, wondering how to say something cheerful. Things were good.
Until Kurt came upstairs looking like he'd been hit by a truck.
Damn it.
