CHAOS THEORY: Vibrato
Chapter 12- Boil pt. 1
"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."
-Chaos Theory
…
"There's a ripple effect in all that we do. What you do touches me; what I do touches you."
-Anonymous
p.s. I want to reiterate that there is a broad trigger warning for every single chapter of this story, just in case. If reading something is too much for you, and you want to know vaguely what happened without having to immerse yourself in a triggering passage, feel free to PM me. I will help.
David Karofsky was in the shower at school, completely absorbed in the water pounding down on him, and not at all thinking about Kurt Hummel's ass.
Really.
Well, maybe a little, to be honest. But it wasn't like it was his fault or anything; It was Hummel's.
Hummel with his tight red skinny jeans and dance moves, shaking his goddamn hips…
Images spun in the dark of his tightly clenched eyes, and he issued a soft groan, entire body tightening with lust, and then a surge of hate.
He was just frustrated, of course. Kurt had told him that Hudson and Puck were coming back before he'd left the evening before, which meant no alone time tonight. Of course, at the time he'd just figured he could drag Kurt into a few janitor's closets or some shit, but that plan had been killed today. Apparently, Kurt still had it in his head that he could do whatever he wanted, and that he didn't want to be with Dave, and Dave was starting to wonder why he bothered with the little bitch, but that ass just kept popping up in his head, moving along with the beat of a high-pitched voice dragged low with wanton lust, or anger, or exertion, and, well, despite himself, Dave couldn't help but think it was a damn good answer.
The jock ground his teeth, tongue tracing over their backs, and worked to focus on the unrelenting press of water coming down on him, lifting his face further, tilting it slightly back so that the water drilled into his now open eyes, making them drip as well of their own accord, pain filtering into his senses.
He heard Z in the background, calling out a "see you later" to him, the door to the locker-room slamming shut in his friend's wake, and clenched and unclenched his fists against his thighs twice, digging the knuckles into his flesh, shame creeping in to join with the rest of the emotions churning in his gut.
If Z could hear the things he kept thinking, or see the images contorting hotly in his mind, his best friend would probably hate him. He'd compare Dave to Hummel, call him a faggot.
It'd be even worse, he knew, if Z were to find out about his and Kurt's arrangement…
Dave knew he spent too much of his time lately thinking about how his friends and family would react if they knew the truth about everything, but he couldn't help it. They wouldn't understand, Dave thought again, the reminder bitter in his head. They wouldn't. He wasn't like Hummel, and these urges he'd had lately… they weren't his fault; they were Kurt's.
Unfortunately, Dave knew his Dad wouldn't buy that, and probably neither would Z.
If the truth ever got out…Dave swallowed and reached forward blindly to turn off the faucet, blinking the water from his eyes.
He just had to make sure that that didn't happen.
He didn't think Hummel was too much of a problem, but he felt like there was someone he was forgetting…
Dave wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped from the stall, turning the corner and immediately slamming into a hard chest.
"Karofsky," Puck practically rumbled. "We need to talk."
"We've got nothing to talk about," Dave scoffed, shoving past his teammate and going to his locker, pulling out his clothes and throwing them haphazardly to the floor.
"Oh, I think we do," he heard Finn say loudly from behind him.
Dave tensed, jerkily beginning to pull on his jeans as his thoughts began going at a million miles a minute, and his breath quietly hitched.
"That right?" he asked harshly, the words sounding oddly empty in his ears.
"We know what you're doing to Kurt," Puck said loudly, and first, holy shit he was a hell of a lot closer than Dave had thought, and, second: fuck. no.
Numbly, he pulled his shirt over his head, then slipped on his prized jacket.
"You need to leave my brother alone, man." Finn's voice was harder than Dave had ever heard it, and as he straightened, he subconsciously pulled himself taut as a bow, fingers flexing in the pockets of his letterman.
"I haven't touched his fairy ass, so don't worry," he sneered.
Abruptly both Hudson and Puckerman came at him, launching themselves forward and dragging all three of them to the concrete of the locker room's floor.
"What the fuck?" he asked furiously, jerking against the grip of their strong hands holding him down.
"Kurt came home last week with a bunch of bruises," Finn said angrily, and David exhaled deeply, his entire body relaxing for a split second as he thanked God that that was all, but then he remembered his position and tensed once more, struggling loose of his teammates' newly slackened hold.
"So?" he asked irritably as he pulled free and began rubbing at his arms, not bothering to stand.
"I know you did it," Finn growled, and Dave frowned.
"Oh, yeah? How do you know that? Fag tell you? If he did, he's lying."
Dave's stomach roiled a bit as he spoke, guilt making itself known, but he pushed it down. He had no reason to feel bad. Hell, Puck and Finn had both called Kurt a fag in the past. And they'd pushed him around, too, so it wasn't like either of them really had much room to talk, anyway.
"He didn't need to say anything," Puck snapped, and Dave rolled his eyes.
"Oh, just give it a rest," he jeered back at them.
"We've all seen how you've been picking on him," Puck replied darkly.
"Big deal," Dave scoffed. "Everyone does that. Hell. You've done that."
"You've been doing it more than anyone else, though," Finn exclaimed.
David groaned, pulling himself up.
"I'm out of here," he told them.
"No you're not," Finn roared back.
Dave was slammed forward into a locker, and cried out, jerking himself around and shoving back at Finn, sending the clumsier boy back into the bench, which he stumbled over, nearly falling. Puck surged forward, fist stretching out and careening into the air for a long second before it crashed into Dave's jaw.
Seeing red, he surged forward just the same, arms coming up and grabbing Puck's limbs firmly, swinging them both around, and then slamming his teammate back against the row of lockers behind them.
Puck's eyes were narrowed as they went head to head, and then he was suddenly talking, voice brimming with anger and disgust.
"It's more with you man. It's different from how everyone else at this school is with him, and you know it. It's like it's personal or some shit. You act like you're obsessed. So, what the fuck is it, man?"
Sometime when Puck had been delivering his monologue (probably at the sound of the word personal, and definitely with the pronunciation of that word- obsessed) Dave's entire body had fallen slack with shock, with horror, with…
Puck used his temporary state to shove him back down, and Dave felt Finn behind him.
"Seriously, man. What the fuck is your problem? Do you have some sort of weird crush on my boy or some shit? Are you confused?"
Dave reared back to his feet, hurling himself at Puck and sending the other boy hurtling backwards.
"I'm not a fucking homo," he bellowed. "I'm not a freak, like Hummel or the rest of you fucking Homo-Explosion fags! I'm not like that!"
"Then lay off," Puck snarled. "Or I will destroy you, Karofsky. That's a fucking promise."
"We'll go to Ben-Israel," Finn said quietly from beside him, and Dave's gaze slowly shifted to the gawky teen. He'd just about forgotten Hudson was even there. "You know if we even hinted you might have developed some psycho thing for Kurt, no matter how untrue that is, he'd find some way to put that out there and get people talking. It's your choice, man. Either way, you need to leave my brother alone."
David fumbled for a moment mentally. He didn't want to lose his deal with Kurt, it was the best thing he had right now, but he also couldn't let Puck even think about spreading any rumors.
"You do that," he said finally, forcing amusement, "it will only make all the guys on the team want to kick his ass."
"Yeah," Puck agreed. "But they'll also want to kick yours, just in case it's true. And who do you think we'll be protecting when that happens?"
David narrowed his eyes at the pair.
"You can't be with the fag all the time," he said, the words half threat, half warning.
"Just keep away from him, alright, Karofsky?" Hudson scowled.
"If you don't," Puck added, taking a step closer to Dave, who in turn only straightened, refusing to back down. "I will kick your ass, and then I will go to Israel, and I will tell him all sorts of shit. I'm talking bad shit, stuff that will take you from where you are now on the social ladder, and put you miles behind even the worst of the Gleeks. Hummel and Berry will be seen as fucking Homecoming King and Queen next to you. Got it?"
Dave clenched his fists, but nodded anyways, watching as they nodded and walked out of the locker room without another word.
As the door shut behind them with a bang, Dave finally let go, and, with a scream of rage, reeled back his fist and sent it crashing into a nearby locker.
Kurt stuck out his tongue slightly in concentration as he measured the span between the current edge of a patch of cloth, and where he needed to bring it in to, then carefully eased a pin he'd had in his mouth between two fingers and into the material.
He released a breath as he examined his work for a moment, then smirked and once more began to track a separate piece through the sewing machine, glancing up from time to time to glance over the pictures he'd printed out of the Prada garb he was working to imitate.
The door to his basement was slammed open, and he flinched, hissing as he managed to stick himself on a separate sewing needle he'd put up in the stand he had for necessary materials on any given project. Kurt winced, pulling the metal from his palm, grateful that it had only barely punctured his skin, and spun in his seat to fix a glower on Puckerman and his step-brother.
"You had to slam the door," he grumbled. "I was trying to get some work done on my newest ensem. Do you two Neandrathals understand the concentration these things take?"
Finn simply stared at him, while Puck groaned loudly, collapsing on the couch across the way.
"You're welcome, princess," he groused.
Kurt frowned at the pair, carefully setting his materials aside, officially abandoning his work for the moment in favor of focusing on the two boys in his company.
"And what exactly am I welcome for?" he queried wearily.
"We took care of Karofsky," Finn grinned at him, plopping down on his bed.
Kurt's eyes narrowed to slits.
"What," he said carefully, voice low, "do you mean by 'took care of him'?"
"It doesn't matter," Puck shrugged from the couch. Kurt's gaze swerved once more, back to the Jewish boy. "But he should leave you alone from now on. Mostly. He might talk a bit more shit than before, but I doubt," Puck allowed with a snicker, "that he'll want to lay a single hand on you after what we said."
Kurt's breath caught a bit, and his tounge pressed into the lower swell of his cheek, jaw contorting with exasperation and anger.
"Just what did you say to him?"
Puck just smirked.
Kurt turned back to his step-brother.
"Finn?" he asked, voice rising. "What did you guys say?"
Finn shrugged.
"We just told him to leave you alone and stuff," he shrugged. "Puck and I got some good hits in too," he looked proud. "The best part was when Puck started talking about Israel."
"Israel?" Kurt asked slowly, a look of disconcertion tugging down his brows.
"Oh for fuck's sake. I'll just give you the lowdown," Puck sighed. "Though I don't get why you really need to know…"
Kurt's face smoothed over, and a single brow arched up in question.
"Go on," he pronounced cooly.
"Your song the other day in Glee," Puck began, sounding bored and stretching out on the couch with his hands crossing behind his neck so that he was more talking to the ceiling than either of the two boys in the room with him.
"Finn was worried about it, or whatever, and he was telling me, and we figured we needed to do something to make Karofsky back off, so after practice we cornered him. Told him he needed to lay off you, that we knew what he'd done to you-"
"You what?" Kurt interrupted, sounding horrified. "Puck! What did you tell him exactly?"
Puck rolled his eyes at the feeling, and Kurt crooked his jaw even further to the side.
"It was nothing! We just told him we knew he beat you up last week."
"And we threatened him," Finn tacked on helpfully.
Kurt cocked his jaw, mouth open slightly, and tongued one of his teeth irritably.
"How," he asked finally, addressing Finn once more, "did you threaten him then?"
"We may have implied that he had some gay crush on you," Puck said nonchalantly from across the room.
"And that we'd go to Jacob Ben Israel and tell him all about it if he hurt you again. And kick his ass," Finn volunteered.
He and Puck exchanged air fives, as Kurt sputtered indignantly, horror descending on him.
"You idiots," he finally managed to get out, voice oddly choked and several octaves higher than usual.
"Hey! We were helping you," Puck exclaimed, outraged.
"Yeah, Kurt," Finn called out, looking more hurt than anything else. "You're my brother now. I had to stand up for you…Besides, you shoulda seen Karofsky's face. He looked so- Hey, hey, are you okay?"
Kurt didn't know. Maybe he wasn't. He couldn't be sure. All he knew was that he was so angry, and scared, and he couldn't seem to think straight, or get enough air. His throat kept tightening, and there was this weird buzzing in his ears. His vision was fuzzy and white around the edges, and everything seemed oddly dreamlike, except less like a dream and more like a nightmare. He lifted a hand to his closing throat, scrabbling at it a bit as he worked to drag in another breath. In his mind's eye, his encounters with Dave in the lockerroom and the janitors' closets waltzed loudly in a circle. He felt transported back in a strange way, as if those hands were on him all over again, and he heard the echo of Dave's voice in his ear.
"Maybe you are a girl. Is that it, Hummel? How about I check?"
"-You're making this so much harder than it has to be-"
"-And then I'll just kill you-"
"Don't push me Hummel!"
"Hummel," he heard as if from a distance. "What's going on?"
"Kurt?"
"-And then I'll just kill you-"
"He's going to seriously hurt himself, get his arm!"
No.
NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNonNoNonononononononono
A hand clamped onto his wrist, and a mangled scream tore from Kurt's throat.
He didn't understand why he was freaking out…He was just so scared.
The hand was back, and some part of him knew it was just Finn, and maybe Puck, but all he could see was David, who was probably so mad right now with Kurt. Who maybe had decided everything was more trouble than it was worth, and might decide to just go ahead and kill Kurt now and get it over with.
Might just kill Kurt…
The jock's hand on him tightened, a thumb sliding over his head
"If you tell anyone-"
"You want me and you need me-"
"-I'll kill you."
His own voice, confident and assuring, "Love is just around the corner." A wink.
Love is just around the corner.
Because, he wanted it, maybe?
Like Dave always said.
His throat was burning, tears brimming in his eyes, tremors gripping him as he rocked back on his heels, from a position on the floor he didn't even know how he'd gotten into, nails scratching uselessly over the tight plane of his neck, the bursting hollow of his clavicle.
"I told you. You wanted it."
His own cum smeared on the inside of his Dolce and Gabana jacket.
"Calm down, Hummel, come on. Breathe, Kurt! Finn, just call 911 or something!"
No, no. They couldn't do that.
He had to calm…He had to calm down.
If they called an ambulance, they would have to go to a hospital, and then his Dad would know…
He felt like he was dying.
He might as well be.
If Dave was angry enough, anything was possible, and Kurt knew from experience….
Right, no, calming down…
He worked to settle himself down, squeezing his eyes shut, and reaching out blindly, shuddering when his fingers touched on warm flesh, but forcing himself to focus on the feel.
Softer than Dave's.
Not Dave.
He was fine. He was fine.
"It's fine," he heard himself mutter weakly.
He was still trembling, and Dave was still leering at him behind his eyelids, but reality was starting to come clearer now, and Kurt anchored himself as best he could, willing himself to calm.
He was touching Finn, not Dave. He was not in a janitor's closet, or empty hallway, or boy's lockerroom, but his own basement, with Finn and Puck.
And he needed to calm down.
"Give him a minute," he heard Finn say loudly. "Kurt, come on man. You're scaring me, man. And Puck. And we, like, watch Saw. We're not the easiest to scare. Come on…"
Kurt took a shuddering breath, and felt the iron on his lungs loosen up, slowly beginning to crumble into nonexistence.
Minutes whittled away, and, finally, he could whisper, and he did exactly that, breathing quietly that no, he did not know what had just happened, but he hadn't been getting much sleep and he was exhausted and he'd actually been testing a new vitamin into his regimen over the past few days (Lie) , so maybe that was why whatever this had been had happened, and thanks for helping and everything, but he was really just tired and maybe he just needed a nap. No, he was not mad at either of them, just tired and irritable, and they could wake him up in a few hours and he'd be fine and he'd make them dinner and everything would be fine and they could go upstairs now, because he really just wanted to lay down and revel in solitudesilencequiet (not having to keep up this mask). Everything was fine. Absolutely under control.
The boys retreated, looking wary but scared enough that they went along with it, and Kurt went to his bed, curling up in a tight ball.
He didn't know who he was kidding anymore.
He wasn't okay. And he knew it was obvious.
Kurt didn't understand what was wrong with him, but he knew he was scared.
Not just of Dave anymore, but of what he was feeling himself turn into, and of the powerlessness that just seemed to absorb him all the time. Kurt kept trying to play his cards and do things on his own terms, even the things that weren't really on his own terms, but that feeling of having no real control was still there and it terrified him to his core.
Especially when it came to Dave. The older boy was powerful in a way, and unpredictable, and Kurt constantly felt off kilter around him.
He didn't know what to do anymore.
And if that weren't enough, there was one other thing terrifying him, perhaps more so than anything else.
When Finn and Puck had been telling him what they had done to Dave, he hadn't actually only been scared for himself…
Kurt understood how hard it could be, coming out and coming to terms with yourself, coming to terms with the fact that you were different from the norm in a way that was more beyond your control than virtually any other part of yourself. You could change your clothing style, or adapt to liking things you didn't think you would, or you could feign interest in a subject and force yourself. But with attraction, no matter how hard you worked to only like the sex you should, nature would win. Your body would take over, and that was that.
In some ways, Dave was fortunate. His interests and entire persona were so much more mainstream. He could fit in.
Kurt had always been different from the norm, and stuck out like a sore thumb.
However, Dave was also homophobic, and wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else. And now he was really realizing that there was a part of him that could never be that way.
Somehow, despite everything, Kurt was…concerned. He felt bad for David. He hated the other boy, and the things he had done, but Kurt also knew where they came from, and as much as he wished that it wouldn't matter to him because he knew, he knew, how dangerous the emotion could prove for himself, it did. And he couldn't seem to help the anxiety gnawing at his gut on behalf of the jock.
He was so sick, twisted. Fucked up, just like Dave had said.
A part of Kurt was glad, though, for all the emotions crowding his brain, the more powerful of which were thankfully distracting from slightly smaller but no less uncomfortable sensations, like that of humiliation at his weakness in front of the guys pooling a molten weight in his abdomen, or the spinning dizziness that still lingered around the edges of his vision.
He pulled his exhaustion over him, and burrowed his head into his pillow, working to fall asleep.
As he descended at last, one hand wormed down and wrapped around the warm metal of his cell phone in his pocket, tugging it out and bringing it up to rest next to his head.
He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he would surely be calling Dave sometime soon. That he would, against his will, want to make sure the jock was going to do nothing drastic, or at least find out whether or not David was angry with him (Kurt was leaning towards a "definitely" on that one, though he really couldn't be sure with Dave).
He didn't understand why he cared. He knew he should hate Dave, and he did, but for some reason he also pitied him, and wanted to be able to help him.
Kurt was so confused, but, he decided, that was fine for now, because he was also tired, and the boys upstairs were expecting him to be asleep and, well, he'd hate to disappoint.
Ding-Dong
Rachel eyed the door for a moment, then reached forward to press her fingers swiftly twice more to the doorbell.
"Alright, Berry, enough!"
She frowned at Puck.
"Why are you answering the door? Where's Finn?"
Puck sighed, shutting the door behind her as she shoved in.
"He's trying to erase the browser history on his computer before we use it."
Rachel nodded, setting aside her coat and moving into the kitchen to set her bag on the table.
"Kurt's still asleep?" she asked tentatively.
Puck nodded, his bored expression gaining an edge.
"You said you could probably figure out what was wrong with him?" he asked, brow wrinkling slightly.
Rachel nodded, unable to restain a smile.
"Yes, Noah…It's so funny."
"What is?" he asked lowly.
"This," Rachel said shortly. "Last year you hated both me and Kurt. You were throwing Kurt into the dumpsters almost every morning and slushying and locker checking him, and you were slushying me twice a day sometimes. And now, you actually care."
Puck's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not a pussy," he said defensively.
Rachel wrinkled her nose.
"No. You're just as…crude…as you've ever been, Puck."
He nodded sharply, flexing at her.
"You've seen my guns," he tossed out. "I'm the studliest of the studs. I'm awesome. You and Kurt…Hummel, I mean, are just my teammates, and you don't mess with teammates. It's the code, man. It's like not ratting a bro out, or giving a friend your weed half-off when they're down or some shit. …Besides, you're my ex, and you're Finn's girlfriend. So, as annoying as you can be, you're off limits."
Rachel nodded in understanding.
"There's supposed to be a similar code among girls, but I've never paid it too much attention. Such things simply can't be strictly adhered to on the road to stardom, sadly."
Finn meandered into the room, holding a laptop in his hands, large forehead wrinkled and eyes latched onto the screen. Rachel stood quickly and grabbed his upper arm just in time to prevent him from running into a chair.
"I'll take it," she sighed, taking the machine from her bofriend's arms and setting it on the table, then flouncing back to him and standing on her tip toes to kiss him.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, bending as well to deepen the kiss, as well as make it more comfortable.
Puck groaned and grabbed the laptop, sliding it over so that it was in front of him.
"Dude…" he said slowly. "You actually go on these stupid 'revenge on ex-girlfriend' sites? You do realize their total rip-offs for pictures that aren't actually that hot. Man, I thought I taught you better than that."
Finn reddened, and Rachel laughed, casting her boyfriend an amused look.
"Even I knew that," she chirped.
Finn groaned, throwing himself into the chair next to Puck, Rachel sliding into one across from him, then frowned slightly, and finally brightened.
"Wait! You look at porn?"
Rachel blushed.
"On occasion," she allowed. "For educational purposes only."
Puck snorted and she shot a glare at him.
"Anyway," Rachel exclaimed. "We have much more important matters at hand. Without a solo to practice for since Mr. Schue decided to play the 'everyone's special' and 'all that's important is that you've tried your best' game with our competition, I have been in dire need of a project to combat the gloom of contemplating our imminent mediocre set list. Unfotunately, all the volunteer-projects I've contacted with offers of my service and brilliant ideas have apparently been filled, or unable to work with my schedule for some reason. However, good for you, this leaves me absolutely free to help out with your Kurt-situation. Now, Noah, computer please."
Puck simply looked at her, and she narrowed her eyes at his apparent refusal to cooperate.
"You know, Noah, I-"
Puck groaned loudly, shoving the computer across the table at her with an annoyed, "Take it, fine, I don't care. Just stop talking."
Rachel made a sound of triumph and took the computer.
"Alright, so Finn, Puck, if we could go party line on speaker with the rest of the club?"
Puck pulled out his cell phone, motioning to Finn that he had things covered, and quickly sent a mass text informing Mike, Sam, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany that they needed to do a party line, and do the usual formation of tapping in. He considered including Kate, but decided not to. She was simply too new at the moment.
That and Rachel apparently hated her now, and they needed her focused on Kurt, not the threat to her performing status.
He then dialed Artie.
"Hey dawg," Artie answered after the second ring. "Why are we going party, and why aren't we including Kurt, Finn, and Rachel…Hold on, Brittany's calling in….Hey, Britt. You're on with Partie."
"Hi Artie. Hi Puck," Brittany said cheerily. "Santana says she'll listen from over here once she comes back from washing her mouth out."
They heard Santana call something out in the background, and Puck smirked, obviously picturing the two girls fooling around.
"Oh, and Sam's calling in," Britt informed them a moment later.
"Hey guys, SaTike here actually," Sam's voice informed the group. "So, what's- wait, hold on. Quinn's tapping in."
"How long is this going to take?" Quinn asked. "And, Sam, you're coming over soon aren't you? Are you guys almost done with whatever you're doing?"
"Don't worry, Quinn, I'm kicking him out of here soon," Tina reassured the girl from Sam's line. "I want some alone time with Mike before it's too late."
There was some laughing, and then a groan from Sam.
"World's most in love couple is making out again," he informed them. "The Tike affair is becoming too adorable for my eyes. Quinn, rescue me?"
"Only if you and I get a lot of work done on our duet tonight," Quinn said. Her voice was oddly clipped, while still sounding relatively fond. "Finally, Mercedes is tapping in. Hey, Mercy."
"Q," Mercedes replied. "Hey girl. Guys, what's going on? And why weren't we supposed to contact Kurt? If it's Finchel drama again, shouldn't he be included?"
"It's not Finchel drama," Rachel huffed loudly, and Puck laughed as everyone fell awkwardly silent.
"Oh…hi, Rachel," Tina said at last. "I…don't think any of us knew you were there. Um…"
"So, is it Furt drama again, then?" Mercedes asked. "If saquach called Kurt's stuff faggy again, I will-"
"Actually, I'm here too," Finn interrupted her. "And that wasn't my fault, Mercedes. We've covered it. I messed up and said the wrong thing, but it was Kurt's fault too. Besides that lamp was really…you know."
"No I don't," Mercedes told him, clearly annoyed. "And, you're lucky you got the chance to see a prime Kurt makeover, and live in it. I'd love to live with him."
"Me too," Tina giggled. "As amazing as Mike's abs are, no-one's ass is better than Kurt's, and living with him he'd probably change around you a lot…And he's willing to take us shopping for as long as we want. He'd be an awesome roommate."
"I'm so confused," Sam moaned.
"Goth-girl! You're more perverted than I thought! Me gusta, Katharine. Nice."
"Santana, I don't think that nickname's going to catch on. It's been half a year already since I tricked Figgins, if not more."
"Now, I'm confused," Finn said unhappily.
"It doesn't matter," Rachel sighed. "We're actually doing this because Kurt had a major freak out earlier today supposedly, and I thought it might be a good idea to make a list of anything any of us have noticed as being off about him."
"Why isn't the new girl on here too, then?" Mike asked.
Rachel scowled darkly at the phone.
"There is no need-"
"I didn't think we needed Berry throwing another hissy fit," Puck cut her off. "Hummel's freak out was enough for one day."
"What exactly happened?" Mercedes queried, sounding upset.
"Sounded like a panic attack to me, from the way they described it," Rachel replied. "I had one once the first time I got really bad laryngitis, and my therapist discussed them with me. Anyhow, it's already on the list. Now, can anybody think of anything? Mercedes, you spent some one on one time with Kurt recently, didn't you?"
"It's mostly what you said before the wedding, Rachel," Tina said at length. "Just, worse, somehow."
"What'd you say about Kurt before?" Artie wondered, frown plain in his voice. "All I heard was that you guys were worried about how focused Karofsky was on him."
"He's been losing weight," Rachel sighed. "In the bad way. It's even worse now than before."
"His hair's not as shiny, anymore," Brittany added, sounding sad. "And his skin's still soft, but not like a baby's. He seemed better when he was my baby boyfriend, and he wasn't even a happy dolphin, then."
"I'm so confused…" Sam repeated. "Kurt was Brittany's boyfriend?"
"We made out. It was super hot," Brittany said airily.
"But Kurt's gay…"
"He tried to be straight for a week last year though, DQ. Keep up," Santana quipped.
"You know that's alright," Sam hedged, "I don't think I even want to know."
"Okay," Rachel sighed. "So he's lost weight. His hair and skin isn't as well maintained as it usually is. What else?"
"He's sick too much," Puck shrugged. "I hear him throwing up all the time lately."
"He skipped dinner last time we were here, but I don't really know about the last few days," Finn said cautiously.
"And breakfast," Mercedes added. "When he and I hung out. Plus, he's usually in the auditorium during lunch lately."
"He's been baking more, though," Finn observed, looking confused.
"Kurt cooks and bakes more when he's stressed or something's wrong," Mercedes told him. "He's a stress-baker, but he usually won't touch what he makes. One of his weird things."
"He's lashing out all the time," Mike volunteered. "I heard Azimio Adams talking about him in the lockerroom the other day. He said something about Kurt being a bigger bitch than usual. His words not mine."
"I actually heard that too." Sam sounded concerned. "The guys were getting really pissed talking about it. They were saying they'd been laying off him because Karofsky was being so intense, but they're thinking of upping their game again to put him in his place or something."
"Dammit," Puck groaned, Finn joining in. "He's going to get himself in trouble if he keeps pulling this attitude crap."
"That's what I always say," Finn just sounded annoyed now. "If he'd just tone things down-"
"He doesn't need to tone things down," Mercedes said angrily.
"I'm with Mercedes," Rachel agreed. "What you're starting to do is called victim-blaming. Now, back to the matter at hand, please?"
"Fine," Finn grumbled. "He's been less Kurt-like lately. Like, when he was sick he kept not matching his clothes and stuff."
"He was probably just more focused on hiding those stupid bruises though," Puck countered.
"What bruises?" Artie was the one sounding pissed this time.
"Karofsky beat Kurt up or something last week," Finn told them. "I mean, he won't say it was Karofsky or anything, but still…"
"This is starting to sound really serious, you guys," Rachel said after a moment. "As in, tell the parents and an administrator and maybe go to the police, serious."
"Maybe," Quinn voiced, "we should just mind our own business, though. We've all got our own stuff, and Kurt's always been able to take it before. I'm sure he'll be fine in a few weeks. If he knew everyone was talking about his personal life and invading his privacy in this way, he'd be furious. I've been there. It might be better to just leave him alone."
"No," Rachel said passionately, "Kurt and I may not always get along or anything, but we understand each other. I get him, and he's always left alone. Always, guys. He might not like it, but Kurt needs us to interfere. I think the loneliness is actually the biggest problem for him, overall. He doesn't really have anyone like him at school, and I know what that's like.
"But it's even worse for him. Most people treat him like he's diseased or like he deserves pain or something, and he acts like he's used to it, but that sort of thing never stops hurting. Trust me. Remember, I have two gay dads. They've both talked about this sort of thing with me before, and I've seen the way stuff still affects them…and they're in their forties! Kurt's the youngest of all of us, and maybe that's the problem.
"Everything's become too much for him. I don't know what's pushing him over the edge or any of the exacts, but I do know that the last thing we need to do to Kurt is leave him alone…All these things we've been listing…they sound bad, guys. If anything happens to Kurt, and we didn't step in and help when we could? That's the sort of thing we'll regret for the rest of our lives."
There was a long silence, then Quinn sighed, and muttered her concession to Rachel's point.
Finally, Mercedes spoke up.
"I just keep thinking that Kurt's reminding me of the way he was last year when we were on Cheerios and trying to lose weight. He was obsessed with his goal, and he got meaner, and lashed out at me. Everyone else too, I think. What Coach Sylvester said got to him almost as much as what she said got to me."
"Why would she have anything to say to Kurt?" Artie asked, sounding confused. "He's been small for his age since we were kids. I should know."
"You knew Kurt when you were kids?" Sam asked.
"We met in kindergarten," Artie informed him. "We went to the same elementary school, along with Puck, Azimio, and Cooper on the hockey team, plus a few others floating around. Kurt and I almost always ended up in the same class. Back to my question, what would Sue have to say about Kurt's weight? He's smaller than most of the girls."
"Something about him having pear hips," Mercedes commented. "And you guys all know how Kurt is- He gets this one-track-mind about stuff and has trouble seeing beyond it. I love him, but boy's too damn stubborn for his own good."
"So…" Tina said slowly. "Taking all of this into account…are we talking about Kurt maybe having an eating disorder?"
Silence.
Rachel, Finn, and Puck simply stared at each other, the words hanging dangerously in the air.
After at least five minutes straight without a word spoken, Quinn finally broke through the lull-
"We can watch him for the next week. If we think he does have a-" she fumbled for a minute, trying to avoid saying the words before picking back up, "-a problem…we can do one of those intervention things. And Finn can talk to Kurt's dad and everything. But if we're wrong, I say we stop trying to pick up Kurt as some project or something, or drawing so much attention to him. He'd hate it if he knew we were talking about him like this, in the first place."
There was another silence, then everyone slowly began mubling their assent, then goodbyes.
Rachel ended the call for Puck, and they sat there for a long moment, the boys' gazes trained on the phone in the center of the kitchen table, Rachel's on the open document bearing the list they'd compiled. Once more, slowly, their eyes met.
"I really hope for all of our sakes, Berry," Puck said harshly, "that we're not making a big mistake trusting your call on this."
Rachel sighed.
"As much as I love drama," she pronounced with a studied frown, "this is starting to feel like a bit much. Finn? What did you guys want me to make for dinner?"
Kurt awoke to a stern prodding at his shoulder and the smell of tomato soup filling his nostrils.
"Rachel?" he asked wearily, rubbing at his eyes.
God, he was so tired.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her.
She smiled.
"I've been at a total loss since Mr. Schue robbed me of the chance to stun at sectionals," she confessed. "So, when Finn told me what happened, and asked if I could come over and cook a bit so he didn't have to wake you up, I jumped at the chance. Hungry?"
Kurt moaned deep in his throat, pulling himself up so he was sitting instead of laying down, and eyed the soup.
It smelled good, certainly, and a part of him, he supposed, was hungry, but lately his appetite had seemed simply…gone.
"Maybe later," he mused. "I'm not actually all that hungry. You know, you didn't have to do this, Rachel."
Rachel's eyes got an odd wet look, and Kurt recoiled a bit.
"I meant that in a nice way," he told her hesitantly, too tired at the moment to get his snaky side in proper working order.
"You're usually beyond irritating, but right now you're not all that bad to have around."
…Okay so maybe there was more snark in him than he'd realized.
Kurt winced inwardly, but heard himself go on.
"Then again, you have only been in here about three minutes, so I'm sure you'll be up to your usual standards quickly enough…Thank you for the thought, though. I'd have never thought you up to actual domestic activities like making someone a meal, or just generally contributing to them staying alive. It's pleasantly surprising to discover that your realm of thought goes beyond yourself from time to time. "
Her eyes were positively glistening now.
Kurt swallowed his heart, but felt it rise back up any way.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," he muttered belatedly. "I'm just tired is all. I'm usually so much better censored than this. I do appreciate the soup."
"Good," Rachel said, and her voice was somehow both firm and, contrarily, vulnerable. "Then eat it."
"I will," he smiled.
She stared at him, and he felt himself shrink slightly.
"When?" Her voice sounded…weird somehow..
What was going on with everyone today?
"Don't you want to join Finn and Puck?" he asked sharply. "Your fashion choices are beginning to offend me now that my eyes have adjusted and I'm fully awake, and compared to my décor they're even more alarming than usual, so I'd be absolutely fine with you rejoining your boyfriend right about now."
He couldn't seem to stop the words escaping, something he'd noticed happening a lot lately. Too often. Kurt hated it- hated this, really, this feeling as though his control over himself and his life was steadily slipping away.
Rachel simply withdrew her phone from her pocket and texted.
Not even a minute later, the door to the basement banged open, Kurt unable to suppress a flinch at the sound, and both boys bound down the stairs.
Now Kurt had three sets of eyes watching him, and he couldn't in the least fathom what was going on.
"Have I developed some sort of monster breakout or something over the past two hours?" he asked bitingly.
"You look great man," Finn said, his voice intense. Then: "…in the least gay way possible, y'know. Like…I'm not into you, but…Um, Tina likes your ass."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at his step-brother, then said slowly, "Finn…what's going on?"
"Nothing dude," Finn blustered. "You should eat. The soup. It's good."
Kurt sighed.
"Puckerman, did you dare him to drink Nyquil again or something?"
Puck simply shook his head, dark eyes fixed on Kurt.
"Do you not like tomato soup?" Rachel asked pointedly.
Kurt turned back to the girl reluctantly, feeling increasingly at a loss.
"I have no problems with tomato soup. Did Puck make his Nana Connie's brownies again? Because he made a double batch before they decided to leave me, and I gave some to our next door neighbors, who called the other day asking where I got the pot for them."
"I haven't made any brownies," Puck spoke up. "Dude, you know how easy you always were to throw in the dumpsters, right? You took the least effort out of all the nerds to toss last year."
Kurt scowled.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked irritably.
"Just, you weighed like nothing."
"Okay, I just woke up, and I do not need this," Kurt groaned. "I'm going to leave for awhile, alright? Get some air."
"Aren't you going to eat your dinner first?" Rachel asked, looking horrified.
"Finn, make your girlfriend take her crazy pills before she talks to me from now on," Kurt snapped. "I'll be back later."
He grabbed up his phone and a couture windbreaker from a hanger on his wall, then stormed up the stairs, taking his keys off the hook by the door and quickly going outside, eager to escape the insane asylum his house apparently was becoming.
The sad part was that he was probably becoming nutty enough to fit in, especially after earlier.
Speaking of which.
Kurt sighed, climbing into his Navigator and placed his key in the ignition, then pulled out his phone and reluctantly texted Dave, swiftly receiving a noncommittal response that only managed to make him more concerned, despite himself.
David was so unpredictable; Kurt couldn't help but be afraid of what the older boy could do if he was upset. He reacted to things so violently.
Dave could have decided to drink himself into oblivion or do drugs.
Both of which could result in fatal things like alcohol poisoning or overdose.
He could have hurt himself.
He could be planning to do worse to himself.
Or, with as old as he looked, he could probably get into a bar and get drunk, and if he didn't hurt himself, he could see someone gay and lash out.
If what the boys had said had gotten to Dave enough, the possibilities of what he could do were limitless, and, for the most part, very bad.
He sucked part of his bottom lip in and bit into the sensitive flesh, then, before he could change his mind, texted Dave to meet him.
He had his phone on him, and he'd dealt with Dave before, so he figured he'd be fine. He just wanted to know how the jock was handling his brother and Puck's threats. He wanted to take control this situation somehow, and to be sure of what he should be expecting.
Besides, he decided as he started his car and pulled out into the night, maybe this was the perfect time to convince Dave to drop their arrangement. He could maybe convince him that it would be in both of their best interest this time.
A/N-
Okay, first order of business, I am so grateful to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and who has put this story on alerts/favorites. You guys are all amazing, and the support I've received makes me so unbelievably happy. Thank you so much wordsthatrhyme, JasonDragon64, fuzzylogic82, Lycoris B, clovrboy,and FireApe.You guys are beyond words, my dears. Every one of you that's reviewed or in any way supported this, it's really just so appreciated, particularly with recent events. I should have replied to most, if not all, of you by the end of the hour. If I miss anyone, I sincerely apologize.
So! This chapter (and author's note…*sigh*)…very long. Very, very long. Now, originally this was going to include sectionals and all sorts of other fun stuff. I outline every chapter before I really get into writing it, and this chapter has about eight or nine bullets. Now, what you just read? That was around 24 pages…and only captured half of what I had planned, if that. I tried looking through for things to cut, in particular from the panic attack scene or the following bit involving the three way call. Unfortunately, though, the panic attack was incredibly necessary, and I didn't think it ultimately wise in a story this dark to eliminate any of the small comic relief bits I've been trying to include. A good portion of chapter 13 Boil part 2 has already been written and should be out by Friday at the very latest
I hope you guys didn't *hate* this chapter or anything…
A good portion of Kurt's thoughts on David are derived from the way he acted in Prom Queen and Born this Way, as well as The Substitute and Furt I suppose. I really wanted to show his tendency to try and turn the really serious things he deals with into less, as well as his more idealistic and caring side, which is a fun contrast with how much he lashes out when he's feeling vulnerable or when things go bad. Asshole!Kurt kinda made an appearance in that last scene with Rachel, which hopefully I explained well enough…*nervous* (if you couldn't tell…:P)
Next up! Kurt and Karofsky have a talk and Kurt falls even more into that natural idealism we've begun seeing more of recently, New Directions gets all up in Kurt's grill and gets seriously burned, A fight that's been simmering under the surface erupts, distracting all, and Sectionals (finally!), with a guest appearance by someone dapper and oblivious who may or may not strike an unusual friendship/alliance.
Lots of love you guys! Take care! :)
~LunalitSol~
