(Author's note: this chapter is so short because that which follows might stand alone.)
Mercedes and Artie sounded really good, thought Kurt, and that was about the kindest thing he could think as the song ground through to its inevitable conclusion. Judging by the looks on the faces of the students from the Haverbrook School for the Deaf, they were having trouble finding something charitable to say, too.
"It didn't work at all, did it," he heard Rachel say to Mr. Schue, as they picked up their wigs and made room for the students in red blazers on the risers.
"It was just the rehearsal," said Mr. Schue. "It's a little rough, but I think we're onto something." And even he wasn't telling the truth.
"I wish we could have done the Gaga song," said Rachel to Kurt as they walked to their seats.
"We're going to have to figure out something," he agreed. "I hope tomorrow Mr. Schue will see what we're missing."
But it became glaringly, eye-stabbingly obvious, at least to Kurt, what had been missing from the New Directions' performance when he watched the Haverbrook students sing John Lennon's masterpiece. Honesty. He swallowed. When did we become the glee club that had to pretend to be something other than what we are?
Mercedes felt it, too. He could tell by the look she shot him down the row, as she started to sing along, and joined the deaf students on the risers.
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
They welcomed them, with smiles and generous arms, and showed them how to make the signs to say, however clumsily, the lyrics' dreams and wishes for a better world. He watched Puck barely holding back tears, and was glad he was in the back row.
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
Kurt remembered Sarah's game, in which they imagined their future one, five and ten years hence. Suddenly, so many of the dreams they'd named seemed trite and unimportant. If I'm going to dream big, he thought, I should make it count. It's not about winning Tonys or making musicals, as thrilling as those things would be. It's about the people I love, and the world we live in, making it a better place.
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
And, at last, he saw that Mr. Schue got it. He looked directly at Kurt and smiled ruefully as they gave the group an honest round of applause in ASL.
"Hey, Puck?" Darlene Cho paused on her way down the hall and leaned on the locker next to his. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"Uh," he said. "I'm not sure I'm really up for that stuff anymore... see, I'm kind of seeing somebody..."
"No," she said, making a dismissive gesture. "Not that kind of favor. It's about your dates."
My dates? His heart gave an extra skip. "How did you find out about them?"
"Santana," she said, smiling slyly. "She told me how awesome they were."
He gave Darlene a weak smile. That little bitch. She said she wouldn't say anything. And - wait, how did she find out about both of them? "What else did she say?"
"Well, how good they taste, for one. The sweet and salty - she said it's pretty intense. Can I get the recipe?"
"Sure," he said, smiling for real now, feeling the blood drain back into his face. "Yeah, I can email it to you -" And suddenly, there was Quinn, reaching around him and grabbing his cell phone from his locker. Ah. Check. Darlene drifted quickly away, not wanting to incur the wrath of a clearly pissed Quinn Fabray.
"Hey, babe," he said. "Um, you really don't want to do that."
She browsed through the texts from "Santana" and her face went from thunderstorm watch to impending gale. "You lied to me," she snapped.
"I'm sorry," he said, trying to make it sound real. "I tried to resist Santana, I did, but girls have this... power over me. But it's all good."
"It's definitely not all good," she protested. "I thought you wanted to be with me."
"I do," he said. "Like, a lot." That sounded weak, even to himself, but he pressed on. "But you haven't given it up to me since the night I knocked you up. Babe, I'm a dude. I have needs."
Quinn raised an outraged eyebrow. "And you expect to raise a baby with me and take care of it, while sending dirty messages to every other girl at this school, if I don't give it up to you every day?"
"No," he scoffed. "Just the hot girls." He saw the resolve in her face as she strode away. Check - and mate.
I'm going to be a good dad, he thought. But I'm not going to stop being me to do it. He watched Finn stride down the hallway, slip into the bathroom across the hall, and shoot him a smile on the way. You're not part of my future family, Quinn. I'm going to make sure of it.