A/N: chapter 2. Enjoy. :) I will be rewriting a lot of series 2 so there will be a lot that follows canon, however, and it's an important note, this is an AU fic, so you need to know that not everything will play out the same. Just some stuff. Other than that, er, happy reading I guess! :) Oh, and thanks to Ylenia (as usual)
Kurt was only in third period and was already wishing he was somewhere else. The jocks had tried to push him into a locker twice already, the slushy had made his shirt sticky and it was clinging to his body, he was bored out of his mind with the incessant, mind-numbing chatter the kids around him spewed and not to mention the fact he'd already completed all his homework. Mind dragging back to the French room, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on Maths.
"And so, by substituting these numbers into your equation..." The math teacher, a balding man in his mid forties with a voice as monotonous and droning as an android who was running low on power, explained slowly, whilst Kurt rolled his eyes in frustration, tapping his foot against his table leg angrily. He eyed his classmates with disdain. At least he had a reason for being haughty, he conceded as he eyed Rachel Berry sat at the front of the class. She had no excuse. The only thing that made her above anyone else was her giant overinflated head.
Egotistical snob... He couldn't help but think. Staring around the classroom, he felt his eyes land on a girl seated in the corner, calm, smiling, and looking at him. She gave him a tiny wave as their eyes met before jerking her head at the teacher and rolling his eyes. He nodded sympathetically, before eyeing Rachel and miming a gun to his head, causing the girl to stifle laughter. Her friend in the seat behind her smacked her shoulder, berating her, but the girl hushed the other one, smiling at Kurt again who returned it. So they weren't all bad. It was moments like that that reminded him how his life was bearable. Then he noticed Rachel was glaring at him angrily. She pointed at the board sternly before turning back in her seat to face the front, peering at the teacher with rapt attention. Kurt really found she was starting to irritate him. Smirking, he caught sight of her pencil in hand and eyed her grip. It was tight. Perfect. Grinning to himself, he ducked his head down and glanced at the piece of stationary, eyes flashing a brighter blue momentarily. Rachel's squeal cut through the class, even causing their teacher to pause, as the pencil splintered in her grip. Kurt rested his head on his hand and suppressed a snigger. A foot connected with the back of his chair, knocking the wind out of him as he was shoved forwards into the edge of his desk. A jock, big and hulking, walked past with a satisfied smile. Kurt growled under his breath until his phone buzzed. Brittany.
Whatever you're thinking of doing- don't.
How did you know?
Connected to you, dumbo. Good thing we stuck in that measure too. It's not hard to feel your frustration- it's practically a luminescent sign, not that I blame you. My ENGLISH teacher has just written weird on the board as wierd. I'm not even joking.
Remind me why we put up with these people again?
Because if we didn't they'd all end up dead or enslaved and your guilt complex would grow too big for any of us to handle.
Kurt pouted at his phone, hating how his friend was right. But, as he put it away again, he did concede she had a point: Revealing what he was wouldn't help anyone. Especially not him. He'd probably end up as a lab rat, considering what he'd seen of most of these people. "Animals..." He grumbled as the jock smirked at him with superiority, going back to his seat and shoving his trainers onto the back of Kurt's chair. Kurt hunched forwards. He spent the rest of the lesson being kicked in the back and plotting murder schemes in his head.
Lunch came around and Kurt slipped under the bleachers, waiting for Santana and Brittany. They showed up, albeit looking rather rumpled and a little ashamed. He raised an eyebrow at the pair in a manner he'd inherited from his mother. "Do I want to know?" He asked dryly.
"Probably not." Santana admitted. Kurt nodded knowingly.
"Well then, let's get this sorted and you can go do...whatever you were doing before you showed up." He muttered, feeling a little ill.
"So, what was the second part?" Santana asked, eager to gloss over her activities with Brittany.
"We need to find his recruiters." Kurt decided, leaning back thoughtfully, chewing on his lip. The girls looked confused. He sighed. "Look, he's going to be trying to recruit new men. The more he leaves in each of those checkpoints, the more vulnerable he's going to be. So he'll be bringing new humans into his fold. Whether he's enchanting them or they're just bastards. Point is, if we catch the recruiters and stop them, it means he can't bring in new men. And no new troops leaves him vulnerable, which means..."
"We have a better chance of finishing him off." Santana breathed. Kurt smirked.
"So, here's what's going to happen. You and Brit start trying to scope out each checkpoint. Find the ones you can get into and take a look, see how he's working this. If my theory's wrong, then this will all be for nothing so we have to be careful. You need to find out if he really is trying to turn Ohio into his little sheep pen." He explained. "Find out what he's doing in the checkpoints. Work out that and we can plot our next move from there." He finished, pushing off the wall. "Now, I'm going to go so you guys can get back to...well, being you." He finished, turning to move.
"Kurt, wait!" Brittany called, causing the boy to turn on his heel. She walked over and touched his arm. "How are you coping?"
He blinked at her. "What do you mean?"
"Kurt...the lack of respect you get makes me pissed." Brittany reminded him. "It must be a thousand times worse for you."
"Brit, just...just leave it." He brushed off her hand. "I'll survive. Besides, once we find Aladorn I'll have bigger things to worry about."
"What about Glee?" Santana called.
"I'll see you there." He rolled his eyes. "Like that club matters." He muttered, stalking off again. "Idiots..." He groused to himself as he walked over the seats, looking out at the students. "Stupid, filthy, idiots. They're worse than animals. Not really human. Not the humans I know." He complained under his breath as he went to his locker to retrieve more books. He sighed, letting his head fall against the metal. As much as he hated to admit it, he was...lonely. It wasn't like Mercedes could sympathise with his problems, and the plan to keep them all safe meant he could rarely socialise with Brit or Santana, and definitely never in public. He had no one.
Not really.
He felt a hand connect with his back, shoving him headfirst into the locker and having the metal cut into him. With an angry huff, he pushed away from the metal to confront the bully only to have various colours of ice thrown in his face. Laughter echoed down the hall as he stood in a slowly forming puddle of slushy. Scooping it out of his eyes, he threw it on the floor. "Again!?" He demanded aloud. "Seriously?" He snapped. With an angry sigh he grabbed his emergency slushy kit and stomped to the bathroom.
Screw the rules; he was cleaning himself up before Glee.
Once in Glee Kurt's bad mood escalated as he folded his arms, staring petulantly at the kids around him, his sour face only lifting slightly as his two real friends walked in. Once seated, he tapped into the three-way mental link they'd set up since arriving.
How boring do you reckon it will be this time?
Do you think there's actually a serious answer I can give to that? Let's be serious, we'll be lucky if we don't die within the first few minutes from sheer lack of interest. Kurt retorted to Brittany, hearing their giggles echo in his mind. Hey, I have an idea.
If magic is involved, the answer's no Kurt. You know that. Santana chided.
Look, you guys are fine with that, but I need to use my magic, at least a little. You both know this. He reminded them, as they grudgingly acknowledged it. He hated the fact too, the fact it could be his fault they were rumbled but he absolutely had no control over it. All I'm doing is tapping into their heads. You know how fun it is.
Okay, this, this I can go along with. Santana agreed. I really want to know what these guys are thinking.
I'm not sure...
Please Brit!
Pleeeease? The two of them begged.
Brittany hesitated. Oh fine! She relented eventually. With a grin, Kurt sent a wave of love to her, watching as she smiled warmly and held hands surreptitiously with Santana. Honing in on Artie, he tapped into his thoughts.
Stupid Chang...his abs aren't even that good...He was muttering to himself, and Kurt had to stifle laughter when he realised Artie was trying to, and failing, subtly stare daggers into Mike Chang's side. Curious, he chose to have a peek into Mike's head next.
How did Artie let her go? She's so wonderful. Plus, she likes my abs. Who doesn't like my abs? Kurt fought down a smile. Looks like there was a little love triangle emerging. He then chose to peer inside Rachel's head next.
This year, the club will be mine. Absolutely. I will have so many friends, be the lead singer and soloist for us all, not to mention have Finn all to myself, and it will all be perfect. Nothing is going to go wrong. Kurt sighed internally. A hobbit with a superiority complex. Napoleon was getting a run for his money in Rachel Berry. He leant back in his chair, skimming Finn's brain and shuddering at the thoughts he found- he wasn't stupid, but seriously, how dense could a person be?- before he found Mercedes and gingerly picked her brain.
I really want to win. I really want to win. I really want to show the world I can be a star, that I am a star. That I'm not just some nobody destined to never make anything of herself. I need to win this year. We have to. She glanced at Kurt who, unable to stop himself, reached over and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. Kurt's so great. I kinda wish he wasn't gay. I'd have loved to have had him as a boyfriend. He's sweet, and understanding, and so strong against the jocks. I hate that they give him grief. I mean sure, he dresses a little differently, but it's not like he walks around throwing glitter everywhere and even if he did, it shouldn't matter. Life sucks sometimes. She mused and Kurt withdrew, surprised by what he'd heard. When Brittany leant back, faking a vapid moment of staring at the ceiling, she shot him a curious expression when he made a cutting motion with his hand.
After school.
She nodded and they both returned their focus to the teacher who was, after welcoming them all back warmly, telling them what people were saying about them on Jacob Ben Israel's blog.
"We get it Mr. Schue," Kurt cut in, suppressing a sigh as he overrode the teacher. "Everyone still hates us." Of course if they knew who I was they'd at least offer me some respect, though they'd still hate the club as a whole. He thought to himself. "So what?" He went on, staying in character. "So we're plankton on the high school food chain," Out of the corner of his eye he saw Santana looking surprised at his reference. "The only difference now is that none of us really care." Kurt admitted, dejection seeping into his voice.
"Yeah, Kurt's right, we're family. None of it is going to break us." Mercedes agreed. Santana held down a wince as Kurt slumped imperceptibly. Their eyes met.
You still have us. She promised, and he looked down at his lap, smiling a little so she could see he did believe her. Satisfied, she went back to her pretence. They listened as Mr. Schuester went on about the club- Kurt barely holding back his annoyance as the Hobbit and the Giant stepped forwards. As the teacher mentioned New York, Kurt forced some excitement on his face. Then he kept going, and as the teacher pulled a pose, Kurt couldn't do it anymore, ducking his face behind his hand.
This was not going to go well.
He was right. As much as he liked singing (and really, he did. It was the one thing that calmed him during and after the nightmares) he just couldn't bring himself to think this performance was a clever idea. Antagonising people who already hated them? He just didn't see how good factored into the equation. Still, he smiled, and put on a show. Once their music started, and the first note left his mouth, he found himself begin to enjoy what they were doing, and was once more reminded that even in this world, there were still good people. He just didn't see them very often. But, he danced along, sharing a smile with Mercedes and even Finn, going to the steps and singing his heart out.
And when they didn't get any response at all, he tried not to be disappointed. He tried not to look just as lost as the others sat beside him, all confused how no one even looked at them twice even though they'd put in so much time and hard work and had mustered their courage and got nothing in return. He tried not to let sadness grip him over something so trivial. He tried so hard. But it happened anyway. He was so disappointed. But, then again:
Disappointment and sadness were emotions he'd carried a long time.
Of course, his masquerade involved making friends. It had been something he'd grown to accept, even if he really wasn't comfortable with the idea. He hated the idea of growing attached only to leave and never even have the slightest bit of contact with them. However, he conceded as he was pulled into the choir room by Mercedes, that she was nice, really. If he'd been from this world, he was sure they'd have been really great friends. But he wasn't, and he couldn't bring himself to be. He just wasn't sure he was capable of hurting himself in such a way.
Especially after she'd put a rock through his car window. He'd put a little more distance between them after that. Just a fraction.
So, when he let his fingers plink across the ivories of the choir room piano as they took seats side by side on the piano bench, he found it was a lot easier to smile to her than it was with the other students of McKinley. They chatted calmly, discussing music and boys and other topics he knew he was supposed to find interesting. He found himself relaxing into character, actually smiling on a couple of occasions.
"So, how was your summer? I didn't see you that often." Mercedes commented.
"Oh yeah," Kurt shrugged, going back to playing a melody. "I was very busy over the summer. I went shopping a lot and travelled a bit." As well as spent time trying to foil an evil warlord who was a former part of my family's government and ended up in several serious battles where my life could have actually ended. He smiled. "It was alright. I missed you." He promised, nudging her side.
"I missed you too. Just, you know, not like last year." She grinned and he chuckled. That had been amusing, once he'd got over the horror and shock. "So, is that a woman's sweater you're wearing?"
"Fashion has no gender." He replied confidently. Until the Hobbit slammed the cover over the keys, nearly trapping his fingers had he not withdrawn them in time.
"Ladies, we have a problem." She stated. Kurt glanced at Mercedes, who also looked annoyed. Rachel began rambling and Kurt zoned out for a second. Thinking of the battles he'd had over the summer left him a little down, purely because he'd been able to be himself, but then Mercedes squeezed his hand comfortingly and he pulled himself back to reality. With every word Rachel spewed he found himself growing more irritable. When she mentioned slushies he'd had about enough when Mercedes stepped in.
"That's awful. You're awful." She snapped, eyeing Rachel with disdain. Kurt agreed whole heartedly, eyeing Rachel with shock.
"But solos-!" Rachel protested.
"No, Rachel." Kurt snapped, standing and going by Mercedes. "What you're trying to do is wrong. You're not only manipulating someone who's never done you any wrong, apart from perhaps made you feel a little threatened, but you didn't even check if we were okay with this. What makes you think I want to have a slushy thrown in my face?" He demanded.
"Kurt's right Rachel." Mercedes agreed. "You know how humiliating that is. Why the hell would we want to willingly put ourselves through it? Make ourselves the laughing stock of the school- again?" She demanded, hands on hips.
"Listen, Mercedes and I are about as self involved as they come," Kurt admitted, the meaning true for him as he realised he'd, once again, been being unfair to all the people of this planet due to his poor treatment by some. Because I'm an awful person, clearly. And obviously still not ready for any real leadership. "But more than anything we want to beat Vocal Adrenaline." He reminded her. "And if there's someone at this school who can help us do that? They're in." He stated. Rachel smiled at them, and he knew something was up. However, he didn't pry into her head as she did a total U-turn in her attitude, although afterwards when chatting to Mercedes they both agreed that whatever she was doing, it probably wasn't good.
"Maybe we should get Mike and Tina onto it. After all, hasn't Tina always said the Asian community is extremely close knit?" Mercedes reasoned.
Kurt smiled. "Indeed she has. So, it's decided. We warn our Asian fusion couple." He decided, linking arms with Mercedes and falling into a cheery conversation. He grinned as Mercedes delved into a conversation about how her dream man would be and what their first date would be as they settled down in the choir room. He had to admit, although most of the humans on the planet ticked me off, he could be certain they weren't all bad.
It was just hard to remember when the amoebas took it upon themselves to plague him.
However, as he sat with Mercedes, he felt guilty, and for the first time it wasn't about Aladorn or his world. Instead, he acknowledged that, save for the occasional thought, he'd been grouping them all under the same label. Judging them all as pathetic and beneath him. He was doing what he'd promised he'd never do, and that was something he needed to change. Being away from the Glee club had made him forget. But, as Mercedes smiled at him and ranted about how Rachel had absolutely no right to call him a Lady, he couldn't help but let a genuine smile light up his face.
Sometimes, the masquerade wasn't all that terrible.
Just sometimes, he could feel that glimmer of happiness that he'd forgotten could actually be caused by anyone other than Santana or Brittany.
And really? That was the only thing he needed to keep going.