Yay! It's opposite day! I hereby claim Glee for my very own! Will that work? No? Didn't think so…

Oh. My. Word. You know how sometimes you're watching a movie that was made a while ago and you suddenly choke because you recognize an actor that's only recently become well-known? Well, I just had one of those moments. Disney's Once Upon a Mattress costars one Matthew Morrison – the actor who plays Will Schuester – as a young knight - Sir Harry the Immaculate. Weird, huh?

All random musings aside, I have to extend a special Thank You to for her comment about Dave's younger sister. That review sparked Karis into being, and she thanks you from the bottom of her newly-written heart.


"I knew you weren't queer." Azimio wiped a splash of tomato sauce off his chin as he reached for his carton of milk.

Dave poked at his slice, too sick to his stomach to eat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Azimio continued, oblivious to Karofsky's quelling tone. "Though you didn't make it easy. I mean, damn it, you were slinking around like a pussy for months. I'd expected you to come back more bluster and swagger than ever. Even I was starting to believe it when people said you were gay. I defended you, man. 'No way is he-man Karofsky on the faggot-train,' I told 'em. Glad to see you prove me right."

Then where were you when I needed a friend? If we're such good buddies, how is it that Kurt was the one who visited me in the hospital, that Kurt is the one that saved my life, that it never mattered to Kurt how down-and-out I was? How come I had to become the worst part of myself before you ever said a word to me? "Yeah. Thanks… You know what, Z? I'm just not feelin' it right now. I gotta go clear my head. See you around." He rose.

Azimio waved, the half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand, sending little globules of sauce flying. One of the girls he hit turned around and glared at the pair. Azimio ignored her. "See you later, man."

~~~glee~~~

He stared out the windows at the trees. Little kids, they drew trees like big green marshmallows on sticks. He could use some of those right now. Well, not the marshmallows, so much, but the sticks… He really felt like hitting something right now, wailing on it until he collapsed in a shivering puddle of sweat and tears.

Kurt didn't rat me out.

He knew that. If he'd stopped for thirty consecutive seconds and actually used the brain he'd been born with, he would have realized it. Kurt was the only person he could trust with his secret. And what's more, he knew that, even now, Kurt wouldn't tell. It wasn't in his character.

He huffed, smacking the steering wheel. I am such an asshole.

What's more, he had no idea how to go about making things right.

Well… maybe, possibly, yes he did.

The thought scared the hell out of him. It would mean the end of everything. His life as he knew it. His family. His reputation. His friends – what few he had. Azimio… oh, screw Azimio. Dave hated the person he was around him, hated who he became in his company. I may be a tough guy, Dave thought, but that doesn't have to make me a bully. I'm better than that.

But, oh God hear my prayer, this was going to hurt…

He turned the engine over and kicked the truck into reverse. It was only at that moment that he realized that he'd been parked in the exact place where he'd tried to kill himself, the place where Kurt had saved his life.

Apropos, then, that here would be the place he would make the decision to set his life straight.

Or not, as the case may be.

~~~glee~~~

"Dad," Dave said.

His father looked up from his book. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Something in Dave's expression must have alerted Paul to his son's seriousness. "Sure. Come in, close the door." He shut his book on his finger, marking his place.

Dave stepped inside the library cum study, his father's haven and one of Dave's favorite places as a child. The smell of paper and ink and leather was balm to him, and his racing heart slowed just a bit as he breathed in the comforting odor. He sank into one of the overstuffed, green leather chairs, across from his father, who sat at his ease in the other. Dave was too tense to sprawl like he usually did, and instead just perched on the edge. Finally understanding the gravity of the situation, the elder Karofsky picked up a piece of paper from nearby – it looked like a bill, Dave hoped his father wouldn't forget it later – and tucked it between the pages of his book as a bookmark, setting the novel aside and giving Dave his full attention. "Dave? Is everything alright?"

The intensity of those eyes was unnerving. Dave shifted, uncomfortably. "Uh…um…" Damn it, he'd practiced his lines, he'd worked out a half-dozen different ways to start. Problem was, he couldn't remember any of them right now… "It's, uh… something I need to tell you, um…"

Paul assayed a few openers. "You're thinking about the military? I'll admit, we don't have much of a military tradition in our family, but it's an honorable career."

Huh? Oh… His dad was reading another WWII history novel; he could just make out enough of the cover to read The Longest Winter. No wonder that was the first place his mind jumped to. Dave shook his head. "No. I mean, um… I've never thought about the military, sir, no."

"You're not in any more trouble in school, are you? Dave, you promised-"

Oh, he was in trouble all right, but not in the way his dad meant. "No, Dad. Besides, Figgins would have called, wouldn't he?"

His father nodded slowly, mind visibly ratcheting down the list of possible serious issues a teenage boy could get into. "A girl then? You've gotten her pregnant?"

Dave closed his eyes. This was making it so much harder, playing twenty-questions with his dad. Time to short-circuit things. "No, Dad. I'm never going to get a girl pregnant." He swallowed hard, watching his dad's brain assimilate this information, coming to the logical conclusion…

"Dad. I'm gay."

There. He'd said it. He'd finally said it out loud, to the one person whose good opinion of him mattered extremely. He watched his father's face, looking for his expression, watching for some clue as to what he should do next. Run? Fight? Hide? He eyed the door. He could beat his old man to it, but could he slam it behind himself fast enough to make good his getaway…?

Paul's face was blank, giving nothing away as he absorbed the news, chose his own reaction. Dave saw his lips twitching as he recited some internal mantra, similar to his own anger-management tools. He mentally cringed. If he'd used those tools rather than going off half-cocked this morning, he'd never have… no, no, focus on the now.

Paul Karofsky blew out his breath. Good sign, a very good sign. "Are you sure?" he asked, at last. Dave was shocked at how calm his dad seemed… until he remembered that the elder Karofsky had been attending therapy sessions himself, off and on, ever since his son's little hospital-stint. I guess therapy has been good for both of us.

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I haven't experimented or anything!" he was quick to reassure his father, "but, yeah, I'm sure. This… isn't something you can exactly have doubts about." Well… he was pretty sure that some people did, but he wasn't one of them. He'd known from the first time he couldn't get excited with a half-naked cheerleader breathing on his neck in the backseat of the car, from the first time he'd had his breath taken away by the sight of Kurt, walking down the hallway. It had been a long and painful road from there to here. And here was, potentially, the highest mountain he'd have to face. He watched his dad carefully. The initial shock was over…what would he do now?

With a very-controlled breath, Paul reached over and picked up his book. Opening it to his spot, he began reading. "…Dad?"

"Mm," he grunted. "Thanks for telling me, Davey."

Taking that for a dismissal, he left his father to his thoughts. It was a sure thing he wasn't actually reading. Dave wondered how long it would take for his dad to notice that he was holding his book upside-down.

~~~glee~~~

It was later that evening when his sister knocked on his door. "Dave? Can I come in?"

Dave set down his pencil and rubbed his face. "Sure, Karis, come on in." To some guys, their younger siblings were the bane of their existence. But for all that his little sister annoyed him to death sometimes, he absolutely doted on her. No one picked on his baby sister and lived to tell the tale. And she adored her big brother. Dave mentally winced, realizing just how long it had been since they'd had one of their brother-sister talks. He'd been out of it for longer than he'd realized. His big funk had robbed more than just him; he'd been hurting her too. Well. No more.

Karis came in and sat down on his bed. "You okay, Davey?"

He blinked. That wasn't the opener he'd expected. "Yeah. Fine. Why do you ask?"

She picked at a loose thread in the quilt. Dave would die before he admitted it, but he loved that quilt and would never get rid of it, no matter how old-fashioned it seemed. His grandmother had made it for him, almost the last project she'd completed before the Parkinsons stole the use of her hands. "It's just – well, you didn't look at Dad once tonight, and he wasn't looking at you, either. Did you guys have a fight?"

Why couldn't Karis be a typical, oblivious thirteen-year old? She saw too darn much… "Not…exactly. No. I…" He took a deep breath. "I just… told him I was – I am… gay." There. Out. Was it just him, or was this getting easier with practice? Or…not. He watched his sister's face for her reaction. Much as he had feared disappointing his father, Karis was right up there on the list of people he didn't want to hurt with his news.

But she didn't look surprised. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that all?"

Now it was Dave's turn to be shocked. "What do you mean, 'is that all'?"

She rolled her eyes. As a teenager, she had the knack, but the expression still looked a bit practiced. Huh, well, give it a few years; she'll get the hang of it. "Of course you're gay. I could tell, even if Mom and Dad couldn't. Or wouldn't. I've been waiting for you to tell me for months now."

He gaped at her. "What do you mean, 'months'? You've known about it that long?"

She shrugged. "Duh. It's not like it was that hard to figure out."

He thought about shaking her down for details, then thought better of it. "And you haven't told anybody?"

"Heck, I wasn't even sure you knew. So no, I didn't tell anyone." She got up and gave him an impulsive hug around his shoulders. "You're my big brother, Davey. Someone's got to look out for you, and I nominate me for the job."

It was a phrase she'd used ever since she'd learned the word 'nominate,' her way of saying both, 'thank you,' and 'I love you.' He smiled, and hugged her back. "You're gonna make a great woman someday," he told her.

"Duh," she answered, grinning. "But not half as good a man as you're gonna be."

After today's debacle, that was debatable. But he maybe stood a better chance of it if he could pull off this half-formed plan in the back of his mind. And then he had a brilliant brainstorm. "Hey, Karis, have you still got that Moulin Rouge soundtrack?"

She thought for a minute. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the CD's floating around here somewhere. Why?"

"Could I borrow it for a few days? And the DVD?" If he was going to do this, by God, he was going to do it right.

His little sister nodded. "Yeah. I'll go grab it."

Dave flipped through the school events calendar the school department provided every family every year, finding today's date and dragging it along the week. There. Friday. He'd have barely enough time to pull this off.

He hoped…