When Dave was five or six and they lived in Middletown, he and Izzy spent four days out of their week at Happy Kids Daycare. Iz was a mature, older woman of eight still dealing with the embarrassment of being deposited at a care environment that smelled of diaper rash cream and pureed bananas ("I can be Davey's babysitter, mom!") – she couldn't bear that shame along with having her little brother following her around looking for golden opportunities to wrestle her to the ground in order to fart on her head, so every day they were there, Izzy would plop down in front of a Magic Schoolbus episode and refuse to move until April or Paul Karofsky appeared. Every day they were there, Izzy would give Dave strict instructions to "stay the hell away". Every day they were there, Dave spent his banishment on the monkey bars at the far corner of the playground.

(He can no longer remember the day or the month he met that kid, but he knows it was early autumn because his mom was okay with him leaving in just a hoodie, and he knows it was the early evening because his shadow stretched long against the sawdust.)

The day they met, Dave hung upside down on the monkey bars letting the blood rush to his head. The kid didn't say anything as he approached. Dave didn't say anything as the kid gripped a bar and pulled his legs over it, and they hung in companionable silence until the kid announced he had a headache before awkwardly landing on the ground.

He hadn't wanted to make friends (Izzy's idea that daycare was somehow below their station rubbed off), but that boy kept coming over and hanging upside down, and by the end of the week Dave had a reason to bring his Pokémon deck.

They were discussing the awesomeness of Snorlax when that boy kissed Dave. He just grabbed hold of the swing's chains, pulled Dave close and planted a quick one on his lips like it was nothing.

"I hope our parents don't come because I want to stay here with you."

It's been so long, but Dave still remembers sitting on those swings, and hearing that, and wishing for the same. He never saw the kid again – Paul got a job in Lima and April quit her own in order to stay home and prepare for the move – but occasionally he wonders what happened to him. Does he still like Snorlax a lot? Did he get out of Ohio? Is he happy?

Dr. Costil wants him to write down his favorite memory, and Dave can't stop thinking about the boy at Happy Kids Daycare who gave him his first kiss, but he writes about catching big mouth bass with his grandpa instead.


"I'm letting you know now, that I'm not going to talk. I mean, I filled out your papers and stuff, but I think therapy is pretty gay and I'm not gonna sit here and cry with a stranger."

Dr. Costil's beard is so blonde that it looks flesh colored. His glasses are thick, black-rimmed and he adjusts them on his face every couple of minutes. He can't be more than forty, and Dave questions his degree of professionalism because the dude is wearing a T-shirt with a blazer over it.

"What makes you think we'll cry together?" he says adjusting his glasses.

Dave hesitates. "I dunno…"

"Do you have something to cry about?"

"I'm not a whiner," Dave says with a frown. "I've seen the way this works on TV – I've never been molested so you can put the dolls away, I love my mom but I don't want to love my mom, and my dad spent enough time with me playing catch and shit – I'm normal, we've got nothing to talk about."

Dr. Castil nods with a slight smile, and scribbles on his notepad. "So, how'd you break hand?" he asks.

Dave grits his teeth. "Car window."

"Why did you put your hand through a car window?"

"I was pissed off, and did something stupid." He shrugs. "It's not a big deal."

More scribbles on that notepad, and Dave bites at the inside of his cheek. "What pissed you off?"

He can see that stupid email and hear Hummel's high-pitched yelling, and Dave shuts his eyes and breathes through his nostrils very slowly. "Nothing – somebody's idea of a joke. Look, I don't wanna talk about it."

Dr. Costil puts his pen down and adjusts his glasses. "That's fine, David. We can talk or not talk about anything you want. This is your time to use however you see fit."

"Okay."

They talk about the Steelers for thirty minutes, and when Dave leaves the office he wants to bitch about how dumb all of this is, but he knows Azimio will accuse him of having grown a vagina just for deigning to show up.

He messages Kurt instead.


Notes: Took a break, wrote some other things, and now I'm back to this. Hope you're all still with me. I'll be putting up the next chapter as well as a Kurt/Dave one-shot soon.