~VioletCherry342~
The minute that freaking perfect door closes and Kurt goes to have a freaking perfect dinner with his freaking perfect dad, David begins cursing under his breath as he walks back to his truck. What is he cursing out? Himself, of course. The big fucking asshole who was screwing around with the kid he'd SOMEHOW managed to fall for.
Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit dammit DAMMIT!
I mean, was he out of line? Not with the bet, he knew that was just low, but with being in..love with him? For wanting this whole thing to go away? For wishing he had the balls to stand up and tell Grayson to, "Fuck off and die" followed by, "I love that 'Fairy'."
Probably not the safest move, but he slams his head into the wheel while driving in attempt to shut up his mind whilst driving. It takes him a few moments to look up again, and he straightens his car out before he rolls down the hill and kills himself..
On second thought...
No. He sees the way Kurt looks at him. Finding out it started as a bet is not enough to wish him dead..Right?
And it's true! This did start as a bet, but this was the shit! This was real! He loved that kid, so freakin' much it made his head spin and his heart pound and his stomach flutter (Yes, apparently that does happen..) and he can't get Kurt out of his mind. Seriously. He nearly lost his mind when he had some fluff-tastic little dream about Fancy..And no, not that kind of dream, pervs. A light and airy little dream with a happy little apartment in New York because David had every intent of following his Star to college, and Kurt was rolled up in his arms, forcing him to watch some movie because, "You cannot be gay and not know who Rhett Butler is.."
Mind you, Kurt has never said that, and David had never heard the name before until he Googled it and tah-dah. It's that Gone With The Wind mustache man who is smart enough to run like his tail was caught on fire from that snotty little oh-so-charming Scarlet O'Hara.
Again, he does not really know how he remembers something from thirteen years ago.
.~.*.~.*.~.*.~.
He'd waddled his way down the stairs after figuring out how to open yet another baby gate. It was around ten at night, and he'd had yet another nightmare about his evil daddy, and wanted to be with his mother. She was curled up in a ball on the couch, sipping something from her coffee mug, watching some man tie something around a horses eyes, leading him through a big slew of fire.
"Mommy?" He cooed.
Immediately, Veronica Karofsky grabbed the remote and paused her movie, setting her glass on the table in front of her and pushing the blanket off before standing. "Hey, sweetie. What are you doing up?"
His large brown eyes fluttered up at his mom, and she saw the tear stains on his plump cheeks.
"Aw, baby," She said when he didn't seem to be able to get the words out, leaning down and scooping her tiny boy into her arms. "You have another nightmare?"
He nodded, lying his head on his mom's shoulder, snuggling closer when she sat back down. "He hit me again, Mommy.."
Veronica stiffened and scowled, but didn't say what she'd like to, instead kissing her baby's fluffy head of hair and pulling the blankets over the both. "I'm sorry.."
He swallowed, but didn't comment, closing his eyes.
"You wanna watch my movie with me?" She asked, knowing he'd probably fall asleep anyway. He nodded, and she hugged him again, turning the movie back on. And sure enough, David eventually closed his eyes and snuggled into his mom, falling asleep with her shoulder as a pillow.
.~.*.~.*.~.*.~.
Veronica Genevieve Lewis-Karofsky
Beloved Mother
Cherished Sister
Adored Daughter
June 5th, 1974 - December 8th, 2000
David's not sure how he got there, at his mom's grave, but he's there, reading the stone over and over and over as if it will make the sick feeling in his stomach go away. He just wanted to talk to someone..someone who wasn't going to cuss him out or call him a faggot or become crushed because of some stupid game..
"I'm sorry," He whimpered, wiping his eyes. "I'm so sorry. You would be...so disappointed in what your son has turned into.. A homophobic homosexual who's trying to steal something so important from someone so..innocent.. And I...Hell, I'm not even ready to lose that.. At least you know I won't be getting anyone pregnant, right?"
He laughed weakly, feebly, his eyes releasing the tears he hasn't shed since his dad through her down the stairs. He didn't go prison for this, because "She easily could have tripped" and "Who are they gonna believe? The grieving adult, or the whiny little boy who is traumatized by watching his mom snap her neck down a flight? Hmm?"
"I wish you were here.." He continued after a moment. "You would've liked Kurt, I think.. Unless you were secretly like Dad.."
David could never imagine his mom condemning anyone..She wasn't exactly religious, and she didn't even hate her abusive husband.. Maybe she did, but David really didn't think he could handle having the thought that his mother would hate him because of who he loves.. He just couldn't take that.
"He's sweet.. And he's trusting, and unscarred and.. God.. He's just.. Amazing. He's a little insane when it comes to insulting Hudson's girlfriend's clothing, but.." He chuckled. "It's cute.. And he has a really good laugh, and he's actually..a good singer. Mom, I love him.."
Beep.
"Hold on.." David takes his phone out of his pocket, seeing the text from Kurt.
Dad's watching a rerun of a game, I'll call you when he's done =)
David grinned, texting back a "K :]" before closing his phone and sighing.
"I can't do this.." He was wrapping up. "I can't hurt him like this.. I just.. What am I supposed to do, Mom? I'm lost, and I'm scared, and...I just wish you were here."
.~.*.~.*.~.*.~.
"Dad?" David called as he walked into his house, closing the door behind him. "I'm home."
"Mehhhhhhhh-urrggggggg..."
David huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It stunk of vodka, now that he inhaled, and he knew his dad had missed work again, and was sitting drunkly in the chair watching That 70's show or the Brady Bunch or something from the old bastard's timeline.
"Dad!" He growls, moving over to the front room. And good God, if he's not blind it'll be a miracle. Paul lay there, crushed barbecue chips covering his gray-supposed-to-be-white wife-beater, one sock on, the other off, his white underwear stained from where he was too lazy to get up and go to the bathroom. "Jesus Christ, it smells like someone died in here!"
"Shutsh you 'outh..." He fumbled, glaring daggers at his son. "Where'dve you been..?"
"School," He hissed through his hand, covering his nose and mouth in hopes he wouldn't have to smell him. "I a-assume you missed work again."
"Who cares?" He growled.
"I do!" David hissed. "Look, despite the little issue of YOU, I like living here.."
I like being in the last place my mom was with me, happy..
"Fack," He said. Not Fuck, not Frick, Fack. "Goes to sleep.. I don' wan' talk to you and you should go to school anyway."
"I'm going to Kurt's.."
"Who?"
"Hummel?" He tried. "The kid I got suspended for? You remember that, right? I was here for months in a row and you finally hired a lawyer?"
"OH!" He cried. "Yes..That fag.."
See, Paul was very polite and non-homophobic and sober when he had to meet Principle Figgins and Burt and, for some reason, Sue Sylvester. At home? Ha..
"I don' unda-stand that.. I mean.. Why would you want anal? A dick anal! It's disgusting. And feminine.. Little twirp. I wish you ha' killed him.."
"Shut the fuck up," David snarled.
"Coulda gotcha outta that.. Hinthint. Go for it. I beg of you."
"Suck yourself." David's eyes narrowed viciously. "Don't talk about him like that."
"Why?" Paul stood, seeming agitated. "You never cared befo'."
"Yeah, I did," He spat. "I always did. I just am not in the mood to hear you bitch out Fancy."
Paul hesitated at 'Fancy', and then burst out laughing. Something in David went awol, his sanity, and he saw Grayson and Az laughing at Kurt about this whole bet and he grit his teeth, and punched his father in the jaw.
The old man drunkenly stumbled back, and David immediately stiffened when he turned his gaze to him.
"I-I didn't mean t-to," He stuttered, trying to back away, but Paul was pissed now, and David got a smash in the jaw and tripped back, his bad ankle giving out and he fell to the ground.
He felt his phone buzz, which was Kurt telling him it was okay to come over now, and he yelped when there was a sharp kick to his ribs. "Dad..."
"You really wanna fight with me, boy?" He yelled, sending another stab to his sons stomach, laughing at him when he whimpered.
"Stop," He groaned, trying not to sound insanely weak as he tried to curl away from the offense. "Please.. I'm sorry.."
His dad kept screaming, however, and he couldn't help but wonder..
Did I ever terrify Kurt like this?..
! I broke 50! :D My wittle stowy is all gwown up. *insert sniffling sound here*
You guys are so cool! :D
OKAY! Thought I'd go in David's head for a while, because everyone appears to be asking what he's thinking.. So! Tah-dah! Did you cry? Don't lie, you did. You felt bad for David Karofsky in THIS story ;) Hahaha
Anyway.. This is also a little barrier I've got up, because some of y'all might HATE him here pretty soon. :/
And how's this for a little angst, lovelies? ;)
