Alright, peeps. This is the point in the story where my muse and I had a showdown. I wanted to have the story go in one direction, and she was pushing me in another. I thought I was winning; but then the sneaky bitch sent some images to my brain that were so vivid, I had no choice but to write them. I hope that this part doesn't turn anyone off, but I do understand if it's not your cup of tea anymore. Please do try to make it to the end of the chapter, though, if you can.

*deep breath*

Chapter 10

Kurt was standing in the door of Dave's bedroom, unable to believe that there was a gun pointed at him. Crap, what had he gotten himself into?

"Kurt? Is that you?" Dave said, pitifully.

"Uh huh. You called me, right?" he said, moving a little closer despite the gun trained on him. He didn't know the first thing about guns, but this one was big, black, and looked deadly as shit. Being Kurt, he nearly rolled his eyes at the thought of what the jocks would think of the "cowardly little faggot" moving towards what he could only assume was a loaded firearm. "You scared me." he told Dave. "And you're still scaring me, to be perfectly honest. How about you put that thing down, and we can talk about this."

Dave blinked and pulled the gun back. At first, it looked like he was going to keep a hold of it, but he finally put it on the ground. Kurt hesitated to move any closer, because Dave still had his hand on the damn thing. Suddenly, he slid the gun across the room forcefully, and Kurt jumped slightly at the noise it made when it hit the opposite wall. Dave put his face in his hands and began sobbing sorrowfully, and Kurt couldn't help the sympathy that filled him. Yes, Dave had been a monster, and done some terrible things to Kurt. But nothing was worth him killing himself over. Nothing.

He made his way over to Dave, amazed to realize he felt no fear towards the other boy for the first time ever. How could you be scared of someone so broken, so pitiful? He kneeled in front of Dave. "Dave, it's okay. You're all right now. We're going to get you some help." He tried for a smile. "It sure seems like you need it."

Dave took his hands away from his face, and looked at Kurt with a mixture of misery and confusion. "Why?" he asked. "Why would you stop me, after everything I've done to you?"

"Because you don't deserve this. No one does, to feel so hopeless and lost that you'd take your own life. The last thing this world needs is another gay kid killing himself because he can't see any other way out."

"I can't do this." said Dave.

Kurt found himself taking Dave's larger hands in his own. They didn't seem so furious right now, he thought. They looked weak and limp, almost like they belonged to someone else. "Yes you can." responded Kurt. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but you can get through this. There are people who can help you." Without realizing the words were going to come out of his mouth, he said, "I'll help you, Dave."

Dave's appeared awed by Kurt's words. Kurt wasn't surprised; he was pretty shocked he'd uttered them too. His eyes were wide, and Kurt found himself weirdly mesmerized by how…pretty they were, for lack of a better term. They were a medium hazel color with a darker ring on the outside of the iris, and fringed with short dark lashes that were currently spiky with tears. His eyebrows were nicely shaped too, as neat as Kurt's own, though he didn't picture Dave as the type of guy who even owned a pair of tweezers. The spell was broken when he felt Dave lifting their connected hands. Kurt watched, unbelieving, as Dave brought Kurt's fingers to his mouth and kissed them gently. He then laid his cheek on their joined hands. "Thank you, Kurt." he said. Thank you so much."

Kurt felt his hands tingle, and it spread up his arms. His mouth hung slightly open, and he felt like he was engulfed in a cottony fog. Dave lifted his head and let go of one of Kurt's hands. He reached towards Kurt, fingers shaking, and threaded them through Kurt's soft hair. Kurt was amazed at how pleasurable the sensation was, and rubbed slightly into the stroking, like a cat being scratched on the chin. The hand trailed down to Kurt's soft cheek and cupped it. Dave licked his lips, his gaze zeroed in on Kurt's plump lips. Slowly, he brought his head closer, and Kurt found himself dazedly following suit.

Their lips met, at first just resting together, savoring the moment. But then they began to move, the tilt of their heads changing slightly as they explored different angles, and levels of pressure. Dave drew the very tip of his tongue almost hesitantly along Kurt's lower lip, causing the smaller boy to moan softly. Dave took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Kurt's mouth, brushing tentatively against Kurt's. Helplessly, Kurt responded, twining his tongue with Dave's in his first (and he assumed Dave's) French kiss. It was sublime, and sensual beyond anything he could have imagined.

Dave's mouth left his, and began to trail soft, sweet kisses over Kurt's cheek and over to the shell of his ear. His tongue traced the outside, down to the lobe, which was delicately sucked into Dave's mouth for a brief moment. Kurt let out a quiet cry at the feel, and Dave continued pressing butterfly-light kisses down the side of his face and into his neck. Kurt's hands found Dave's hair and his fingers wove through the short strands. He could hear Dave making soft mewling sounds, and they ratcheted his desire even higher. Oh God, he never imagined it could feel so good, and opened his mouth to tell Dave so…

Kurt awoke with a gasp, hands twisted into the bed sheets. Gasping harshly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, still trying to shake off the lingering sensations from the dream. He flipped on the light and rested back against the headboard, closing his eyes. His nightmares about that night had never taken that turn before, but it was no less disturbing. In fact, you couldn't really call it a nightmare at all, it was really just a dream. A really fucking twisted dream. He opened his eyes, about 50 different emotions rolling through him. He opened his eyes and looked down the bed, freezing suddenly. Holy shit, he had a fucking erection, and a pretty solid one based on how visible it was through his pajamas and a couple layers of bedding.

Kurt leaped out of bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, feeling his stomach lurch and wanting desperately to vomit all of the turmoil out of his body. Nothing would come up though, so after a few dry heaves he gave up. He rose on shaky legs and stumbled over to the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He thought about taking a shower, but realized there probably wasn't enough water on the planet to make him feel clean. He left the bathroom and walked woodenly back to his room, closing the door.

Kurt walked over to his desk and picked up his cell phone, flipping it over and over nervously in his hands. About 4 months after he started seeing Dr. Vetter, she gave him her cell phone number. She told him she only offered it to a minority of patients, the ones who she was confident wouldn't call her every night with non-emergencies. She told Kurt that it was always on, except when she was in session, and that he could call if he needed her help urgently. Kurt had never called the number before. But if this wasn't a fucking emergency, he didn't know what was. Bringing up his contacts list, he pressed his thumb on Dr Vetter Cell.

After 3 rings, he heard her voice. "Kurt, is that you?" she said, sounding a little sleepy. He looked at the clock for the first time. Shit, it was nearly 3:30 in the morning. He closed his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me." he said quietly. He didn't want to wake up his parents or Finn. "I'm sorry to call so late. Or early. Whatever." He gave a short, despondent laugh.

When Dr. Vetter responded, her voice was much clearer. "I gave you this number in case you needed it, and I can't imagine you'd use it unless you really needed it." He heard rustling noises on her end, and the murmur of another voice. "Just give me a minute. Don't hang up; I just need to get my robe on and walk down the hall into my study." While waiting, Kurt wondered if Dr. Vetter was married. She didn't wear a ring, but not everyone did.

"Okay," came the brisk voice out of the phone. "I'm all set. Thanks for waiting." Her tone turned softer. "What is it, Kurt? What happened?"

"I had another dream. About that night."

"You've had a lot of dreams about it. What made this one powerful enough that you needed me tonight?"

"It started out the same. I walk in, Dave pulls the gun on me, and I nearly shit my pants. I ask him to put it down, so we can talk. And he does. Throws it across the room, in fact."

"And then?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "I go over to him, kneel down. That's when it got weird."

"What was weird about it?"

"I wasn't afraid of him, not at all. I've never had a dream about it where I wasn't petrified the entire time. But he was different in this one. Sad, but not scary or creepy at all. He asked me why I saved him, and I said something about how no one deserved to feel suicidal, no matter what they'd done."

"Did he respond?"

Kurt was silent. As usual, Dr. Vetter let it go on as long as Kurt needed it to. He sighed, hating how hard this was to say. "He said thank you, but not at first. First he…he kissed my hands."

"How did that make you feel, in your dream?"

"It felt…good. Nice." He shuddered. "But it didn't stop there. He started touching my face, and then he kissed me. A lot." Damn it, here came the tears. "I kissed him back. We were making out like crazy, and if felt amazing."

"Dave was gentle, in the dream?" she said.

Kurt's face burned, glad they were having this conversation on the phone instead of in person. He knew Dr. Vetter had probably heard far more vulgar things in her practice, but it was still embarrassing to talk about the sexual details of the dream. Still, he had to do it. He knew getting it all out was the only way to get some relief from his torment, and since he'd woken his therapist up in the middle of the night, he needed to go through with it. "Yeah, he was gentle. It was all so soft, and perfect. And it felt so good. I was really…getting turned on."

"That seems like a perfectly natural reaction, when someone's doing something pleasurable to you."

"I woke up before we got too far. But I had a..." he stopped, and tried again. "I was hard, when I woke up." The shame was overwhelming.

"It's not unusual for one's body to react physically to a dream like that. In fact, it would be more unusual if you didn't find yourself like that upon waking."

Kurt snapped, going from weepy and embarrassed to furious in less than a second. He hissed into the phone, still mindful of his sleeping family. "Not unusual? To get a fucking boner because I dreamed about my tongue down the throat of a person who said they wanted to rape me?" He scoffed. "I know you've probably seen some really strange shit in your day, but it sounds pretty fucking unusual to me."

"Did Dave mention his thoughts about raping you, in the dream?" she asked, cool as a cucumber.

"No. What difference does that make?" Kurt asked in a pissy tone.

"Dreams aren't real life, Kurt. They're an alternate reality unto themselves. Haven't you ever had a dream before where people from different parts of your life, who have never met, know each other? Or it's taking place somewhere that it couldn't possibly, like something today taking place at a house you haven't lived in for years."

Kurt felt himself calm slightly. "Yeah, sure. Everyone does. I once dreamed my mom was driving me to Sectionals, and it didn't even occur to me that she shouldn't have been there."

"Kurt, if Dave didn't mention rape in the dream, than for the purposes of the dream, he never said it, or even wanted to do it."

Kurt started to argue, but came up blank. He pondered Dr. Vetter's words for a minute. It made sense, and it also made him feel a lot less disgusting. He couldn't let himself off the hook entirely, though. "But I know it in reality. How could I dream about something like that, after everything he's done to me?"

"Kurt, people have sexual dreams about partners who would be inappropriate in real life all the time. Sometimes our subconsciouses throw us a curve ball, and we'll dream about having sex with people we're not attracted to, or even people we're related to. It's uncomfortable and embarrassing when it happens, but it's really not that unusual. People just don't talk about it very much, for obvious reasons." She paused a moment, letting her words sink in. It was unusual for her to do so much of the talking with a patient, but she knew that what Kurt needed more than anything right now was reassurance that he wasn't sick or perverted. And since he certainly wasn't either, she went for more of an informational approach. "You've been talking and thinking about Dave for a long time. You have strong emotions associated with him, and a history of dreaming about him frequently. Lately, your feelings towards him have changed substantially. You don't fear him anymore, and you empathize with him greatly because you've traveled near parallel paths. On top of all of that, Kurt, you're still in adolescence, and your hormones are all over the place. To be perfectly frank, I've been expecting you to have a dream like this for a while now. Clinically, it was hardly unforeseeable."

Kurt was silent for a moment. Then in a small voice, he said, "Really?"

"Yes. You've been through a lot Kurt, more than most people 3 times your age have been. Whatever dreams you have, or thoughts you have, they're not wrong or shameful. You need to feel how you need to feel, and do whatever you need to do to get through the day. As long as you're not hurting yourself, or anyone else, it's all good."

Kurt realized that he was no longer shaking, or angry or crying. In fact, he felt very calm - peaceful, even. "Thank you so much, Dr. Vetter. I feel a lot better now." The words were completely inadequate, but he hoped she could sense even a little bit of his gratefulness.

"I'm glad, Kurt. Do you think maybe you could get some sleep now?" she asked.

"Yeah, definitely." He smiled a little, something he wouldn't have believed possible at the beginning of their conversation. "I'm glad you gave me your cell number. I hope I won't need to use it again, though."

"Me too, Kurt. Try to get some rest, and I'll see you at session on Tuesday. And if you need me before then, well, you know how to get a hold of me. Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Dr. Vetter." He replied, and disconnected.

Exhausted from the interrupted sleep and the stress of the past hour, Kurt fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

I thought I was nervous about posting the last chapter, but I'm really freaking over this one. I know having Kurt and Dave in any type of a sexual situation after what he confessed to Kurt might squick some people out, even if it is just in a dream. I hope that through Kurt's conversation with Dr. Vetter, I've been able to communicate why I needed to include it. It just felt honest and real to me, and I hope nobody hates me for it.