A/N: Hello, well I had a week of work/life imbalance and then finally I found myself typing at 2am again. So this afternoon, after I woke up, I spent the rest of my day off polishing this little thing as best I can. There are another two chapters in pieces at the moment - I think I might need to go get some scissors and some duct tape. Surgry might be required. One is all dry exposition and the other has lots of things happening in random order. So I need to sort out where they got muddled and fix it!
Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and messages people have been sending me - they really do make me feel like someone appreciates my feeble efforts.
A few people wanted to know if I was thinking of a specific piece of music for the beginning of the last chapter. The answer is yes. I was thinking of Bach's 'Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring' Try the link below for my favourite version, and imagine Kurt's voice.
ht tp: /w ww .youtube .com / watch?v = iPeVIuRjUi4 (remove the spaces)
Hope to post some updates soon. (and I hope that wish doesn't jinx it for me!)-ooo, and by the way, I think this could be the first chapter that doesn't end with a snappy one liner, hope no-one is too upset. :(
DISCLAIMER: I don't own or contribute officially to Glee, except as an avid audience member. Nor do I own a lake, or any local wildlife. I do own some throw pillows though (but not a slipcover)
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Brittany S. Pierce was crying.
Large wet tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes reddened and shimmered. Her shoulders shook with her repeated sobs and her long blond hair hung limply as she buried her face into the broad shoulder she was crying into. Across the room Santana Lopez hugged herself tightly and stared at the crying girl, her face a mixture of fear and sadness. Finally she could take no more and walked around the bed to wrap Brittany in her arms.
"Britt, honey, what's wrong? "She asked softly.
"Dave looked so sad, "Brittany gulped air in as she tried to stop her tears, "He just looked so lost and afraid."
Santana looked puzzled for a moment.
"Britt, Dave is right there. He's asleep. Honey, you're using his shoulder as a Kleenex right now. "
Brittany looked at the figure lying on the hospital bed in front of her. She looked into Santana's eyes.
"No, I mean the other Dave."
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Santana was even more confused now.
"You mean that Warbler guy, the hot one who is always attached at the hip to the cute uptight Asian, the one who's a friend of Frodo?"
Brittany's tears stopped gradually.
"Who's Frodo? "She asked nervously. "Have I forgotten one of our friends again? I mean, the name sounds really familiar but I can't..."
Santana mentally kicked herself. She was usually so careful about how she phrased things around Brittany.
"Sorry Britt, I was making a joke about how Blaine always reminds me of the hobbit from Lord of the Rings, you remember, that movie with all the elves and the talking trees?"
"I remember that movie! "Brittany seemed relieved, "But you know Santana, trees can't really talk."
Santana just smiled and nodded, crisis averted.
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"Well, I mean, they can, but not aloud like that. They sort of whisper in your head, "Brittany had turned back to Dave's unconscious body and was gently stroking his hair, "But it takes a really long time, because trees are like, really slow, and usually by the time they get to the end of the first sentence you've forgotten what they were talking about anyway. Usually it's not worth the effort, unless you're lost in a forest or really bored or the trees have some really juicy gossip to share. Trees don't move around much though, not in Ohio anyway, so they usually just want to talk about rainfall statistics or how annoying beavers can be. I made a joke once about 'dam beavers' and one tree laughed so hard a branch fell off and landed on my dad's car and we had to wait for hours for the auto-club to come and give us a tow and dad was really mad. Not at me, he was mad at Isaac Newton, which I didn't think was really fair because I was the one who had told the joke. Newton has been dead for centuries, and I think he only ever talked to apple trees anyway and this tree was a spruce."
Santana loved Brittany deeply, but she would never, ever understand her. She took the option most people familiar with the blond took.
"So Blaine's friend Dave looked sad huh? "Santana had heard nothing, she had heard NOTHING.
"No, Dave looked sad. "Brittany explained.
"...Dave ...Karofsky? "Santana indicated the figure in the bed.
"Yes, "Brittany nodded, relieved her best friend was finally on the same page as her. "Only the other Dave."
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Santana would never be able to laugh at Abbot and Costello again.
"Britt, sweetie, "she asked slowly, "when did you see this other Dave?" Perhaps, she thought, Brittany had gotten confused with Dave's dad, or... yeah, no.
"Last night, he was in the cafeteria when Kurt and I went to get Dave's dad a coffee."
"What was he doing?"
"He was sitting here talking to Dave and waiting for us to get back I guess."
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Santana closed her eyes for a few seconds... just a few...
Ok, better now.
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"What was the other Dave doing honey?"
"Oh, sorry. He was standing there looking at Kurt and looking so lost and lonely. I thought maybe he might be avoiding entanglements too."
Santana knew she would regret her next action, but it had to be taken.
"Britt, honey... sweetie ...what exactly do you mean by 'entanglements'?"
"Well Quinn told me she was avoiding boys because she needed to stay away from romantic entanglements for a while so she could find herself. Dave looked so lost, I thought that maybe he was trying to find himself too. I tried to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow, but I didn't have any breadcrumbs. I bought a croissant from the lady at the cafeteria, but I'm not sure if that counts as bread. I checked with Kurt and he said that it counts the same once it gets to your hips so I figured that was close enough. So anyway, I left a trail of croissant crumbs back to Dave's room but I think that some birds must have gotten into the hospital and eaten them because when I came in this afternoon they were gone. I asked Kurt about Dave avoiding boys and trying to find himself but he just..."
Santana reached out her arms and hugged Brittany tightly.
"Don't ever change sweet thing. "She murmured.
Brittany looked at Santana with wide, surprised eyes.
"Wow Santana, that's exactly what Kurt did last night. Were you there too? I'm sorry I didn't notice you, I was busy worrying about Dave. Other Dave. Other Dave who isn't Blaine's friend. Except I think Blaine likes this Dave too now so..."
Santana just sighed and hugged her again.
"Come on Brittany, let's sing this Dave something."
"Ok, but can we do Metallica again, the guy who dances in the corridors says his mop really likes Metallica. Or was it Justin Bieber? I get those two confused sometimes."
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Elaine Anderson watched her husband with amusement as he tried, unsuccessfully, to convince the duck to get out of the car.
It was a large duck, brown feathers edged with green, and it sat, stubbornly, on the passenger seat of the maroon Audi glaring out the open door. Elaine turned to her son and managed to stifle the chuckle she felt rising from her chest.
Blaine sat cross-legged on the grass of their front lawn staring into the eyes of an even larger duck which sat forlornly in front of him.
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"Well you need to apologise to her or she WILL leave you, "Blaine said softly to the duck, "I think you have to agree that she has a right to be upset, don't you?"
The duck quacked softly.
"No, you need to say it to her. Look at her, you know she's angry enough to stay in there till fall. Do you really want to force my Dad to have to DRIVE her south for the winter?"
The duck looked up and quacked loudly in the direction of the car. After a few seconds the female in the car hopped out and joined the pair sitting on the grass.
Elaine and John Anderson looked at each other.
"My son, marriage therapist to local wildlife, how could a father not be proud? "John Anderson joked to his wife.
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The female duck stretched out a wing and cuffed the larger male lightly across his head. Then the two ducks rubbed their necks against each other and thanked Blaine.
Blaine stood and watched as the ducks took off into the sky, heading in the direction of the local lake.
He called after them. "And no more decoys!"
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"Sorry Mom, Dad, I ran into them the other day when I was out jogging and when their argument got to the point where they needed an outside voice, they both thought of me. "
Elaine Anderson just smiled at him.
"Have you heard from Kurt today darling? "She asked. "How's your friend doing, any change in his condition?"
"Kurt is coming over soon Mom. He says Dave's breathing on his own now, thank goodness, "Blaine sighed, "But still no sign of when, or even IF he's going to wake up."
Blaine's mother nodded. "You said he was pretty badly injured, it's going to take some time to come back from that."
"Mom, he was dead. He wasn't breathing and I felt his heart stop. If Kurt hadn't wished..."
"Wait, "Elaine Anderson seemed shocked, "You used a Godmother wish to bring him back to life? But...that's not... I mean, nobody can..."
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Her voice trailed off as she saw her son's face go blank for a second. Then he smiled and murmured to the empty air.
"I love you too, see you soon."
Mrs Anderson took her son's hand and drew him into the house.
"Come on Blaine, we'd better get the kettle on and have a nice cup of tea ready for Kurt when he pulls up."
Blaine looked at his mother in confusion.
"Mom, there's no rush. He's only just leaving Lima now. It's going to take him at least ninety minutes to get here."
Blaine's mother gave him the same look she had earlier. Blaine continued.
"Your parents were Godmothers too weren't they? You must know the rings let you feel your partner's emotions, and sometimes even hear and speak to each other."
"Yes they do honey, "Elaine Anderson looked worried, "But only when you're close to each other. When my Dad broke his leg, my mother didn't even know about it until she got to about two blocks away from their house. Then she felt him and ran the rest of the way home. Blaine, Lima is over sixty miles away. I've never heard of a Godmother bond being able to allow feeling over that distance, let alone communication!"
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Blaine blinked.
"I guess we might have strengthened our bond a little when I lent Kurt my powers the other day."
Elaine paled and called for her husband.
"Blaine honey, come into the lounge, we need to talk about this."
Blaine's father came out from the kitchen where he had been preparing lunch.
"Something wrong? "He asked nervously.
"Our son, it seems, has been doing the impossible again. Family conference, in the lounge in two minutes. Kurt will be here soon, he can join us for lunch when he arrives. Can lunch be put on hold?"
Mr Anderson nodded, "It's just quiche and salad. I know Kurt likes to eat light and healthy, so I'm trying a new vegan recipe that uses egg replacement powder because it's lower in fat and cholesterol. He does like mushrooms doesn't he Blaine?"
Blaine smiled warmly at his Dad. From latent homophobe to fussing over his son's boyfriend, his Dad had grown so much.
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"He loves them. You really don't need to go to ..."
"He's part of our family now Blaine and I mean to make sure he knows he is going to be a valued part."
Elaine interrupted.
"Fine. You, go cook. You, go wash and change. We'll have the family conference after lunch then, when ALL the family can be present."
Blaine smiled at his mother's bossiness.
"And what are you going to be doing while we prepare? "He asked playfully.
"I'm going to be on the phone and the internet, "She replied, "Trying to see if I can track down your Grandpa Pang. I think we might need some expert guidance here."
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Paul Karofsky sat in the hospital issued armchair and stared at his son's still face.
The chairs, he noted absently, were remarkably comfortable.
Kurt had brought in some hypo-allergenic, washable throw cushions and had made matching slip covers (also washable) so that those sitting with Dave would have something 'comfortable and beautiful to keep their souls warm and their hearts light'.
('And their butts un-numb' Blaine had added)
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Paul shook his head gently. Kurt and Blaine, what a pair.
He had thought that he was a tolerant man, but when he had felt the slight feeling of shock and discomfort at seeing the two boys kissing or holding hands, he had the thought that perhaps society's prejudices had sunk further into his body and mind than he had realised.
Over the past days he had worked through his feelings. Neither of the boys ever made a show of their affection for the other, at least, not physically, or in front of strangers. But over the seemingly endless days and nights they had shared vigil with him, he had seen the little gestures, the touches and smiles, even surprised them kissing on a few occasions.
At first he had felt uncomfortable, but gradually the couple became normal to him.
Now ...now he smiled when he saw Kurt's foot slide next to Blaine's as they sat on Dave's bed and talked to him. Neither boy ever noticed what they were doing, it was an unconscious, an instinctive action and Paul Karofsky had decided that it was... beautiful.
When the two boys sang to his son, the look in their eyes... his heart ached with the joy he saw there.
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Also at first, Paul had watched the couple, trying to determine who the 'girl' in the relationship was. He may have previously prided himself on his tolerant views, but Paul realised quickly that he had never actually seen a gay couple together, in 'action' so to speak.
Certainly Kurt was the more effeminate of the pair. But the way his fierce anger and sharp tongue were so quick to defend Blaine, or Dave or Paul or any of his friends was more masculine than anything Paul had seen in any movie or television show.
Blaine was more masculine, but the sensitivity he displayed to others, the care and concern in his voice at times... Paul sighed, the two boys really were equals. Neither seemed to feel the need to conform to society's predetermined gender roles. They would be tough when they needed to be tough, and cry if they felt like crying. Neither was weaker or stronger than the other, they were... a partnership.
Paul recalled that petition he had signed months back about protesting the opposition to gay marriage. Perhaps signing a petition wasn't enough, he thought. Perhaps, after his son was better and his life was back on track, he would offer his help to such a cause.
Perhaps it would be some small way to repay Kurt and Blaine for all they were doing.
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As Paul sat, watching the monitors silently keeping track of his son's heartbeats he sensed someone standing in the doorway behind him and turned to look.
He stared at the figure who stood, looking at his shuffling feet, still in the doorway of the room.
"Come in son, "Paul said quietly.
The figure hesitated, then softly sighed and entered the room, letting the door close behind him.
"I was beginning to think you would never show up, "Paul said, his eyes trying to make contact with the boy's.
"I wasn't sure I would, "Azimio Adams said huskily. "I'm still not."
"What happened Azimio? "Paul asked, "Why did you do it?"
Azimio looked at Paul with horror on his face.
'I didn't... I... no, it wasn't..."
"I don't mean this attack son, I mean the one where Dave got arrested. What happened? Why did you hit him?"
Azimio sat in the other chair and thought for a long while. Paul waited patiently.
"I didn't hit him Mr Karofsky. I didn't... well, I guess I didn't really protect him either."
Paul nodded for the boy to continue.
"I just watched as Ross and Phillips laid into him. I stood there... then I ran. I... it was me who called the cops. I just couldn't... I don't know what I was thinking. I was so confused."
Paul could see genuine pain behind the well shielded eyes.
"Want to talk about it son?"
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Azimio looked at the older man, then his gaze darted to the still figure in the hospital bed. His eyes followed the sine wave of the heart monitor for a few minutes.
"I... I don't know if I can. I... "Azimio looked at Paul forcefully. "Has Dave talked to you recently? Since school ended I mean."
Paul sighed sadly.
"Dave hasn't really spoken to me for months, maybe even a couple of years. I mean, we have conversations, but he doesn't talk to me anymore. I wish I knew what the problem was. I wish I could figure out how to talk to my son. I miss him."
Azimio nodded.
"Is he... Is he going to be OK? Do they know?"
"No-one knows Azimio, but if Kurt and Blaine have anything to say about it, he will be fine."
"Kurt? "Azimio seemed more relieved than puzzled, "Kurt Hummel? The fair..."
"You will not use any insulting word like that in my presence or my son's presence ever! Do I make myself clear?"
Azimio nodded.
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"Sorry sir, force of habit I guess. Dave has been getting on my case about it too since he and Hummel started... well, since the Bullywhips thing got going."
"Dave has made some real progress in his life since that started. I'm beginning to recognise my son again."
Azimio kept nodding.
"So Dave hasn't... he hasn't said anything to you about ...about... "Azimio trailed off.
"...Hummel seems to have been getting a lot closer to him since he came back to McKinley. "He finally blurted out.
"Well, they could scarcely have gotten further apart, could they?"
"I mean, he's been spending a lot of time hanging around Dave and..."
"Kurt has been a very good friend to Dave in the past few weeks, perhaps his only good friend, and if you are trying to suggest some other motive, I have gotten to know Kurt and his boyfriend, Blaine, pretty well over the last week and not only are they are not only both wonderful and very special young men but they are very, very much in love, with each other! Was there something else you wanted to say Mr Adams?"
Paul's voice had not risen in volume, but it was certainly a lot more intense than it had been a few seconds before.
Azimio blinked and gulped noisily.
"I didn't mean, I mean, I wasn't trying to... I mean Dave isn't... um... that is I..."
Paul talked over him.
"If my son and Kurt, or my son and Blaine, or hell, my son and BOTH of them... If Dave was to become involved, as friends or even as a romance with either or both of those boys, I would be happy for him. He is my son, he deserves someone special."
Azimio seemed shocked. Paul kept talking.
"Dave has been your friend since second grade Azimio. He talks to you. Do you know anything? Is he...? Is my son...?"
"He's never talked to me about this sort of stuff Mr Karofsky, I swear."
"But you know him. Please, tell me. I think I'm beginning to suspect what it is he's been so afraid to talk to me about. Please tell me if you know anything. Please..."
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The well dressed older man had tears streaming down his face now.
Azimio watched. He had rarely seen a grown man crying before. He had never seen a man cry who seemed so unashamed and so... so free to express the love he felt for his son.
(Well, except maybe for Hummel's dad, and he was a scary man too, just like Paul Karofsky.)
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"I don't know Mr Karofsky. I really don't. He's never said... I mean, we've always been so mean to Hummel and... But, sir, I think... I think I might know the reason Dave was always so fixated on punishing Hummel for being a... for being... gay."
Paul picked up his son's limp hand and kissed it.
"I think I know too, "He whispered, "I just wish he would wake up so I could tell him it's OK. I wish I could tell him I love him."
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Azimio sighed, and a tension Paul hadn't noticed until it was gone seemed to leave the young man's large body.
"I wish he'd wake up too."