Thank you for reading this far. I will get to the AU divergence point in this chapter (I hope) as well as give an idea of how awesome a friend I think Azimio is.

I also won't be getting as... intimate with the characters in this chapter as I did the last one. And no, I don't think gay men have sex with women to "make sure" of their sexuality. Dylan did it simply because he was certain of who he was and honestly show Janet how a man should be able to please her.

For the inner struggle between David and Karofsky, I have decided to use the Cube constructs. To me it just makes sense, and gives some leeway for my lack of understanding individual psychology. Plus it adds the insanity that is David Karofsky's psyche.

With that said, please enjoy this chapter. And yes, the title is an allusion to Repo: The Genetic Opera.

Songs:

Sea of Cowboy Hats, Chely Wright, MCA Nashville (Dylan)

1000 no Kotoba, Koda Kumi, Rhythm Zone [Japan] (Dylan)

Rehab, Amy Winehouse, Island/Lioness/Universal (Vocal Adrenaline)

Lithium, Evanescence, Epic/Wind-up/EMI (David)


Let the Monster Rise

While Dylan was having an, interesting, week with Janet, Karofsky had spent it in silent horror. At least he thought he was silent about it. That Monday, at the end of classes, he saw him for the first time. He didn't know how he could've not seen him before. He was a physically masculine nymph with what looked like a decent body. At least, there weren't any bulges that indicated more than a little fat, but he was wearing a pink Marylyn Monroe women's sweater and calf-high boots (hidden under his slacks of course, and fortunately not heeled boots). Karofsky took a quick inventory of anyone who might have been left and saw only this queen and Mr. Schuester, his Spanish teacher, leaving the classroom but not locking it. He politely marched to this boy.

"Hi. I need to talk to you in private. I swear I am not going to hurt you," Karofsky said in a flat tone with a strong twang of honesty.

"I don't know you, so the answer's now. Especially in those bargain-basement Target-chic clothes."

Karofsky leans in quickly, forcing himself to ooze friendliness, not hostility. "Listen queenie, you gotta tone it down if you want to avoid jackasses like my friends."

Insult etched into his face the boy replies "I'm not gay, and I don't want any of your help." As he tries to walk away the jock gently grabs his arm and pulls him into the now-empty Spanish class.

"Look Fancy, be in the closet as much as you want, but at least look the part?" Karofsky states in perfect French, genuine concern taking over. I just need to hold it a little longer, keep him out of his way.

"It's nice that you speak French, even a little better than I do, but the answer's 'no.'" While he wants to leave, something in the back of his head's keeping him here.

"Guys don't dress like you do, not straight ones anyway. And guys NEVER wear women's clothes, unless they're VERY drunk."

"These aren't women's clothes. I'll have you know Charles David designed these boots!" the boy was genuinely insulted. Even more when he heard the reply.

"He designs women's clothes and specializes in leather accessories. I'm Karofsky, by the way."

"And Eric Gaskins made this sweater. It's okay for guys to wear it, and I'm Kurt Hummel," he was losing this fight again.

"Women's couture, and men's clothes button left on right. That sweater's a women's and buttons right on left. Why can't you understand that?"

"Whatever. We're done here," as Kurt tries to storm out. He's stopped by a strong grasp to his shoulder which is spun around.

"I'm trying to help you," Karofsky hisses. Just a little longer, you can do it David. "I'm giving you a week. One week to start at least dressing like a guy. If you don't, I won't stop other guys from making your days here a living hell. And dressing like this," he motions to Kurt's current choice of articles, "screams 'I'm a homo!'"

"Don't ever talk to me again Karofsky. You can't control me, and you can't shame me, you ignorant meat-head," Kurt spits out as he storms out of the room. He doesn't see the tear coming out of his 'attackers' eyes as he doesn't even look back, or bother to file what just happened into memory.

And now it's almost Tuesday the next week. I need to find the exact color choices for this, Karofsky thinks to himself as he works on a color wheel he found online. He had talked Z into going with the plan. I don't like in-your-face-flaming-homos either dude, Z had said. Karofsky didn't know that not only was Z ok with gays as a whole, but found the fashionable ones somewhat decent to be around. Z didn't, however, like walking window displays, as this Hummel kid insisted he was.

In school Tuesday they took note of what Kurt had chosen to wear: a teal knee-length sweater with Joan Crawford on the back, lace-up boots (a metro-style, fortunately), and a sea-foam green scarf. He was completely unaware of KZ approaching him until the blue and red slushees hit his face in unison. As they walked away tauntingly saying "Sorry Lady!" Kurt's only thoughts were that he would likely not be able to wear these $500 a piece items again and that the taller guy looked familiar.

Kurt would never notice that when he was wearing "women's" sweaters, they got ruined and was double slusheed by KZ, or that when he decided to be a one-man fashion review it was always Azimio who threw the slushee with that Karofsky guy insulting his gender identity. To keep his dad in the dark about what was going on Kurt began to offer services as a translator online and secretly tied a account to his bank card. That way he could replace the clothes he actually liked when those two Neanderthals decided he shouldn't wear them. Kurt never remembered his first encounter with David Karofsky, just that Karofsky was a jackass.

Meanwhile, Azimio had some hesitations about doing what he was doing to a kid that may have been able to comfort his closeted friend, but he only brought it up once. After a somewhat quiet scream-fest Z never brought it up again. The only thing that resembled an answer was that "gays were guys and if they want any respect they should act like it. Otherwise stay the hell away."

So, I'm here, playing CoD Modern Warfare 2 with my best friend, who's a super-closeted, possibly self-hating queer, Azimio thought to himself. As he tried to figure out how to reach out to his friend, he got fragged by a mine he should've been able to avoid.

"Got you you Commie bastard! AND you walked into it!" Karofsky cheered, slapping his friend on the back.

"Just you wait until I get a sniper rifle jackass!" Azimio spits out, punching his friend in the arm.

There's a soft knock on the door as someone opens it enough to chime in. Mary sternly tells the two boys "Keep it down please. We're trying to watch Paris Je T'Aime." The door closes and the sound of soft French dialogue can be heard through the door. Azimio decides to take his time in the game and sets his unit's AI to "Smart Charge." With that done he sees his friend's features become more and more pained. At some point the battlefield fades to the System Menu. Is Dave about to cry? wonders Azimio.

"I'm tired of Commies and Uber-Americans. Let's do zombies," as he puts CoD back in its case and pops in Left 4 Dead 2. It'll take my mind off that stupid voice that won't go away, the one that keeps saying 'be yourself.'

Azimio just nods and half-smiles. Making it look like he's looking up the different types of zombies, Z makes a note to himself:

- Watch Paris, Je T'Aime and find out was is said after 'blood red' and 'auto paint.'

He quickly recites the list of zombies and claims the rifle as his weapon. K agrees as he prefers the shotgun - he likes to get into the gritty of close-quarters combat. He's not expecting the next words to come out of K's mouth.

"I don't like that movie. It makes me cry," K says with a surprised look on his face. He quickly regains the stony look that's always plastered on it. Z catches it and also sees a few tears leak out.

"I won't tell bro. You can trust me," he replies putting up a fist for a bump. He gets it.

"Thanks man. You're a good bro," K replies, starting with a hint of hurt to marble smooth. Why did I just admit that?

After completing three chapters the two go to sleep. Tonight Z insists on taking the sleeping bag rather than have K on the floor. At about two in the morning he can tell his brother's asleep, so he sneaks downstairs and pops the movie Mr. & Mrs. K were watching into the DVD player he keeps in his backpack at all times. He gets to the scene that got to K and listens carefully. It's an Emo-looking guy talking about fate and destiny with a short-haired blonde kid just looking at him. When the scene ends Azimio gets why it hurt Dave to hear it. There's still a part of him, the real him, in there...

...

Freshman year's almost over and Karofsky can't wait for it to be over. He had to get a job as a fry cook with that smug player Puckerman to keep up with the number of slushees he and Z had to give that Hummel kid. And no matter how many they dished out, he kept up with the fashion shows and wearing of women's clothing. He wasn't a drag queen or anything, but men don't wear button sweaters, especially ones that go past the stomach.

Then there was the 'shopping' trip to Home Depot. He, Z, Alders, Strando, and Puckerman thought it would be funny to go to that Hummel kid's house and play a prank. They waited until about three in the morning, walked from around the corner, and nailed all the lawn furniture they could hoist to the roof. They got all of it in twenty minutes, but only because they had four nailguns. The look on Hummel's face the next day was priceless! For some reason it didn't set right with Karofsky though. Why won't this stupid voice in the back of my head shut UP?

Karofsky spent the summer working full-time and building his budget. He did so well that he even got a newer truck. Sure it was a '92 Suburban, but it was newer than the one he had. He had been teaching Azimio how to handle a manual transmission when he suddenly slammed the breaks.

"Dude what the fuck?" Karofsky screamed as he pulled his head off the dashboard.

"Janet Jeong," Azimio whispered, following her with his eyes. He looks like a stalker doing that Dave thought.

Then something struck him: that guy she was with felt familiar. He couldn't see what color his hair was, but when his face came into view he could see that he was sporting a goatee that was fiery copper. He was wearing an Air Force uniform, looked to be about twenty pounds lighter than he was, and was built! He must've been looking for too long because he heard Azimio calling to him.

"Earth to Karofsky, I repeat, Mission Control to Karofsky, come in?" he joked. He knew damn well that he was looking at that jackass that was with his girl. He played into his friend's fantasy though. "Are we gonna have to fight over the same girl bro?"

"Maybe," came the reply, but it was almost breathless. "C'mon, let's go. I need a cheeseburger. And some fries."

Accidently glancing down, Azimio was just a split-second late catching his mouth. "You gonna put that cheeseburger on top of that tent you're pitching like Dennis Leary?" He winced at what the likely response would be.

"Screw you dude. I'm driving now," he growled as he tried to pull Azimio over so he could scoot into the driver's seat.

"How about you untorque yourself first? I don't want that thing anywhere near any of my orifices." As he glanced for a reaction, he wish he hadn't said that. He's gonna go all Sin City on my ass for sure...

"You're right. Just don't pop the clutch." He was embarrassed. He can give me a run for my money there, if I'm right. Crap, don't think that! Don't wanna know! He got the truck moving again and headed to the nearest BK. He knew his friend preferred McDonalds, but offered to pay. The burgers at BK ain't dry dumbass he thinks as they walked in. Sneaking a quick glance as he went for his wallet, Azimio thought Damn, he's good at hiding. Can't tell a thing...

...

Dylan saw the two guys in the green truck. From Janet's description the driver must have been Azimio Adams. She just wouldn't shut up about him! She had already come up with their couple name - Jamio. Her nickname for him would be Ebony God and his for her would be Korean Princess. She was pratting on about how much of a bitch Coach Sylvester was so she was unaware of how distracted he was as he memorized every aspect of the other occupant. That must be Davy he thought as he suddenly pulled her from almost getting hit by someone in a Mustang.

"Thanks Dylan. That would've sucked," she cheerily said. "I think for my Senior prank I'm gonna just run up and kick her in the taco!"

"Sounds like Coach Sue's earned at least that," he replies, showing he had been paying attention. She hands him a WMHS water bottle and tells him to open it.

He has pretty much a titanium stomach, but this stuff makes even that squirm a little. "She really makes you girls drink this?" he asks, taking just a taste.

"Yep, twice a day," she winces as she sees Dylan spit for the first time ever. "I don't add the ipecac, but it still messes you up a little."

"No shit! All the pepper and maple syrup'd be enough to make even me barf. Which I won't though."

"So, what do you think? Winter Formal? I promise no more Flame Dame stuff."

"I'm so sorry, but I can't. I have to do a course outline for the summer. The 'Gon wants it early this year so they can plan their classes better."

"I still can't believe you can't drive yet but can teach at West Point."

"I'm just glad I got another promotion," he points to his lapel, which now has a single silver bar instead of a gold one.

"Congratulations First Lieutenant!" she coos as she gives him a hug. "So, this mean you'll be a Colonel by Senior year?"

"Maybe. Or not. I don't really know," he says, slipping. Damn! She knows me well enough to pick up on it. He opens the door to the chicken restaurant they were walking to.

"What's wrong?"

"I saw Davy and Azimio, in a truck, when we were walking across the street," he flatly mutters, not trying to hide anything.

"I see. Well, if you want to see more, some of us Cheerios are planning on making a peep-hole," she smiles coyly, knowing she has him in the palm of her hand.

Blushing, he replies "How much?"

"I dunno, dinner for a month?"

"Deal!" he almost shouts out. He regains himself. "Let me know if you need cameras..."

Janet smiles as she enthusiastically opens the menu.

Oh no, she's gonna get a Pie-on-the-Rocks... there's $20 I'll never see again.

When it comes time for lights out, Dylan thinks of how angry and closed off David seems to be now. He has a phone number, an address, and even knows that he plays Right Guard. Why am I thinking about him so much? I can't go and say 'Hi, I'm alive and really missed you guys, and Davy - out of the closet and let's catch a movie!'" Dylan turns off the lights, sets the remote down, and tries to sleep... and has the strangest dream ever.

...

That night he's restless. On the one hand, he wants to think about that flyboy he saw when teaching Z how to drive stick. On the other, it's wrong. That bitch-cunt fate couldn't be wrong about that. He peeked out of his door, sees that all the lights are out, and boots his iMac. He looks up videos on xtube and tries to 'enjoy' the ones with women. No luck. Before he can even think of looking at the ones with men, he closes Safari and turns his computer off. What was I thinking? I might as well be a monk!

As soon as his head hits the pillow again, he's out. He's now at the cemetery, watching his only trip there with his family. As he approaches them slowly, they move toward him and vanish into him. He looks around trying to see where they went, but sees no one else. Wait, that guy wasn't there before, or when we were there. Who is he?

"This is sooo surreal," the guy's saying as he approaches him. He doesn't disappear or vanish. He must have heard David coming because the guy from earlier is now facing him.

"Did you know her," David asks the flyboy.

"Actually, yes. Well, I was her," he replies, confusion evident. "Is this my grave?" he asks absently, like he doesn't expect a response.

"Don't EVER joke about something like that!" David screams as he grabs the lapels of the other young man's uniform and slams him into the granite monument. What's that smell? It's like, something. That stray thought leaves enough space for the 'imposter' to take David's hands off his lapels and into his own.

"I kept my promise, even if you, mama, and papa thought or believed otherwise," the flyboy replies in Japanese, perfectly enunciated.

David rips his hands out of the others' hands and stares blankly. What's going on?

"It's me Davy! I don't know how much you'll remember, or me for that matter. I'll see if I can explain," Dylan says, not sounding as confused as David. He offers his hand.

"You, know it's me? But you haven't... I haven't..." he tries to form a sentence, but it won't happen. He looks at how that once-small hand is so strong now, and feels himself being torn. He takes the hand. Then he feels a chill as he's pulled behind 'Dylan' and spins to find both of them looking at himself. The one he sees in the mirror since he moved to Ohio.

"So, looks like I'll have to bury you again Dave. After all, you're sloppy!" The other David Karofsky seethes, with no emotions other than rage and distain in his voice. He lunges toward the pair. Dylan grabs David and pushes them through the granite. They're now in a hospital.

"What just happened?" David asked. As he looked around he saw the Dylan he remembers on a bed behind a glass wall.

"I'm going to guess that you finally snapped and broke into two different people: Your persona, and the real you," Dylan, the grown one, replied.

"I meant about moving through a solid, stone object. That isn't possible within ANYONES lifetime," David said quietly, moving toward the friend he remembered.

After feeling myself fade from your arms, I don't remember anything, then I was here, Dylan thought, hoping their connection was restored.

... And I was prolly in Lima by then, or even done with fifth grade, David thought back. This felt right, for the first time in over five years he felt right.

From what I know, this was about five weeks after the last time you held me, Dylan replied, placing his hand on David's shoulder. Both young men felt a small jolt of excitement with the contact. With that the younger Dylan began to open his eyes, and shortly after the hospital faded to a dining room.

Is this Travis' house? Dylan asked.

I think so. This is where they... David was cut off as a wall had just been knocked down. Shattered by Karofsky.

"Don't think you can run again blabber-mouths!" He seethed as he ran to David. Without hesitation Dylan knocked David out of the way and shouldered the hulking embodiment of David's demented Super-Ego.

"I'm not gonna let you take him from me. I fucked Death up TWICE, I can handle you just as easily!" Dylan yelled, hoping that it would be enough. He felt someone grab his jaw and head from behind. There was a sharp pain mixed with screaming, and then he was jumping from his bed, sliding across his room. He stopped short of being brained by his desk.

"And now for YOU faggot! Your super-stud's gone and can't protect you anymore!" Karofsky began marching toward David with the embodiment of soullessness in his eyes. David fled out of the house and down the street, trying to figure out what happened. Dylan was there, then suddenly he was behind him and snapped his neck. But at the first crack, he disappeared.

He wasn't managing to keep much distance from his, whatever, it was. Dylan had said 'Super-Ego...' He had come to a ledge, one that he couldn't see the bottom of. He tossed a rock and didn't hear anything, except the huffing of the other him. He spun around, wondering if he could find a way out of this.

"End of the line homo," Karofsky panted evilly. He reached out and grabbed David by the jacket and tried to spin him around, likely to do to him what he did to Dylan. David sidestepped him and took a step closer to the ledge.

"Don't dare take a step closer to that ledge!" Karofsky bellowed. Was that a look of fear? David thought. It was! David jumped back and let himself fall. After what seemed like minutes he realized must be at terminal velocity. Then he slams into his bed and screams. Before stopping his bedroom door flies open.

"Are you ok David?" Mary asks as she moves to his bed, wondering how bad his dream must have been.

Regaining control, Karofsky replies "Yeah, I'm fine mom. I just had a nightmare that I fell out of a plane, that's all." Go away you monster! David screams, trying to talking to his mother.

"Are you sure that's all it was sweetie?" Mary asks, placing her hand on her son's back. Karofsky sees the look of genuine concern on her face and plays on it.

"Yeah. I guess I shouldn't be playing video games so close to bedtime, huh?" he replies, knowing that his false tone of insecurity would work.

"Let us know if you want, or need, anything to help you sleep, okay?" Mary says, wondering how her son had ever developed the ability to lie to her. She kisses his forehead, knowing that he's a bit old for that, and leaves, closing the door behind her. After a minute Karofsky locks the door and begins to plot how to rid himself of the weak one, once and for all, as he falls back to sleep.

Meanwhile, Mary can't control her tears anymore as Paul takes her in his arms. They aren't enough to protect me, to make me feel like the world's going to be ok, she thinks to herself. As Paul strokes her hair, holding her, she wonders if there was anything she could've done to make Diane and Adam change their minds, if they had any idea that David wouldn't be the one living after this.

"Mary, I've been thinking, and I have one possible solution." Paul says, with a very sinister-sounding edge to his voice.

As she looks up to his face, she knows that it's going to be something he has no desire to actually do. "What do you have in mind love?"

"We can both agree that the David in that room isn't the David we raised in Ann Harbor. It might be time to consider..." he trails off, obviously not wanting to finish the thought. "... committing him to a mental hospital," he finishes, shame dripping from his words.

"... Are you sure that would help Paul? They were... very close, almost like they were mentally linked. I know he doesn't want to talk about it, but maybe, maybe a part of him died too? Like how we lost a son?"

"I don't think we should do anything yet," he replies, giving his wife a kiss on her head. "We need David to give us a message, not this... other personality that's been created." He sighs and turns off the light. For the first time since that Halloween night, they cry themselves to sleep...

As he drifts off to sleep to stalk his 'prey,' Karofsky smiles at the tears he can hear his 'parents' shedding, not noticing the ones he's shedding himself. Remind me to kick that queer in the nuts for getting my pillow wet he thinks as sleep finally decides to embrace him.

...

"Man, you look like hell!" quips a slender brunette in the jROTC office. "Partying like there's no tomorrow?"

"Respect the Chain of Command, cadet!" Dylan sternly replies, tapping just below his rank insignia. He decided to wear his dress blues, and is glad he did as no one else seems to have been in the program before.

"Umm, sir, sorry, sir!" cries the brunette, forgetting that he just said that to someone who's in uniform. Hell, this guy could be the one who runs it!

"What's your name cadet?" Dylan asks with a respectful but commanding tone.

"James Underwood sir!" he replies, looking like he might die from strain any second.

"At ease cadet Underwood," Dylan replies with a smile. "When we're here, it's all formal. On campus, we can be a bit more... relaxed. Just remember, I'm a higher rank, so keep it semi-formal."

"Yes sir. Umm, sir? May I ask what rank you are, sir?"

Geez, this guy's gonna pop a carotid any minute, Dylan thought. He points to his lapel and responds "First Lieutenant. You can tell by the fact it's a silver bar and not gold."

"Right sir. I'll remember that sir," James stutters. Just then a blonde woman walks in, wearing dress blues. If not for the uniform she'd prolly have to deal with catcalls of 'Milf' and 'Sugar Tits.' Her expression said 'no nonsense' and her body language gave vibes of 'don't ever question me.'

"Cadets, I am Colonel Hallison. If any of you question any orders that you are given or have a tendency to talk back, get out of here now," as she addresses the group she stops at Dylan. After eyeing him and giving him a go over, she dresses him down.

"Lieutenant, your uniform is too tight and your boots are scuffed. Also, your facial hair violates standard dress regulation," she states calmly as she watches three guys walk away.

"Actually Colonel, my goatee's just fine as it's less than a quarter inch long, I can perform all duties in this uniform without malfunctions, and I misjudged how my new motorcycle would affect my boots. I'll have the boots re-polished by tomorrow." Dylan was expressionless with no hint that he had done anything even remotely wrong.

"It says here you not only went to West Point over the summer but you were a student teacher as well... Combat and Survival Skills. I'm marginally impressed. But you also questioned my conclusions. I don't take well to that even from a not-off-the-street recruit."

"I explained why what you correctly pointed out was not an issue sir. May we proceed to processing these recruits?" Dylan could feel that the crowd that remained was more scared than if they had been dropped into that remake of Dawn of the Dead.

"Fine. Let's move out to the football field. I'm going to challenge your skills as an educator Lieutenant Howard."

"Understood Colonel Hallison. I'll give you the full semester review."

Once outside the cheerleaders and the football team moved to the goal posts, looking slightly frightened. This hadn't happened before. For those who could read lips, like the Lieutenant and Colonel, people were saying "This doesn't happen," and "NO one ever questions her!" Someone even went as far to guess "We're gonna see our first ghetto sex-change."

Colonel Hallison quickly kicked off her dress shoes and came in for a sweep. Not wanting to really fight yet Dylan folded his hands behind his back and jumped over her. Each swing or kick was dodged by the Lieutenant, each time the tension of the crowd increased noticeably. After two minutes she came in for an uppercut - and missed horribly. Dylan head butted her square in the temple. Not enough to knock her out, but enough to knock her on her ass. She was visibly dazed.

"I win Colonel?" Dylan asked as he extended his left hand to help her up. She looked furious, like she was going to rip his arm off rather than accept help from someone who never even saw a bootcamp, much less attended one.

"Lucky shot," came her reply as she took the hand reluctantly.

"A knee to the jaw would have been lucky with the opening you left with the first strike ma'am," Dylan replied matter-of-factly, not expecting it to be insulting. For a brief second she was insulted.

"Your boots are exactly the same as when we started, and your uniform hasn't budged. How'd you do that?" she asked genuinely impressed.

"Probably the same way you can take a head butt to the temple and walk it off like nothing, ma'am," Dylan replied and fell in in front of the new recruits.

There were no further incidents or run-ins after that, and the Colonel even agreed to allow Dylan to audition for Vocal Adrenaline. He jogged to the choir room and knew Ms. Shelby Corcoran. He walked straight up to her as she had no one next to her and was simply holding a clipboard.

"Ms. Shelby? I didn't see a sign-up sheet for auditions. May I trouble you for one now?" Dylan asked. He had missed being able to perform last year, but Colonel Daniels was a hardass. 'All or nothing' he kept saying.

"I'm sorry but it's by invitation only..." she went silent as she saw who she was addressing. Her eyes lit up like sparklers as she closed the space between them and hugged this teenager in uniform.

"I'm so sorry Dylan! You look so... different! And you're so big now! Anyone who can finish right behind us one year and tie us the next..."

"Except that I don't get to claim a win since my school stopped operating that year," Dylan half-joked. This resulted in a frown from the stunning director.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'd like you to audition. And feel free to pick your own song."

"That might not be wise. I was thinking of doing Fuel by Metallica."

"You're right. Do you have another?"

"Sea of Cowboy Hats by Chely Wright?"

"That's fine. Metal and electronica aren't performance-worthy for a stage. And don't say it don't say it, my stage my rules!" she pitches as Dylan takes the stage.

Figures I'd rehearse the wrong number. I don't think anyone can sweetalk her, ever!

Once on the stage Ms. Corcoran called "You may start now Dylan."

He took a breath, cleared his mind, and began.

I've been out here seven dances in a row
Yeah the band's so hot they won't play nothin' slow
Stetsons and Wrangler jears are floodin' through the door
And it's sink or swim as soon as you hit the floor

I'm dancin' in a sea of cowboy hats
Shoulder to shoulder and back to back
Two steppin' fools as far as the eye can see
They're ridin' the wave on that sawdust floor
Rockin' the boat from shore to shore
So jump right in cause this is where it's at in the sea of cowboy hats

Feel free to scrape your boots til they've worn holes
You won't get too far in here with rubber soles
Yeah the place is packed and we're puttin' on a show
In over our heads and caught up in the flow

I'm dancin' in a sea of cowboy hats
Shoulder to shoulder and back to back
Two steppin' fools as far as the eye can see
They're ridin' the wave on that sawdust floor
Rockin' the boat from shore to shore
So jump right in cause this is where it's at in the sea of cowboy hats

I'm dancin' in a sea of cowboy hats
Shoulder to shoulder and back to back
Two steppin' fools as far as the eye can see
They're ridin' the wave on that sawdust floor
Rockin' the boat from shore to shore
So jump right in cause this is where it's at in the sea of cowboy hats

Dylan finished and was happy Colonel Hallison had come in. He knew that he had done a better job than Chely did. How can people not know she was a severely closeted lesbian and that's why there's no emotion in her music?

"Not bad Howard, not bad at all," Hallison said. Was that a trace of a smile? Dylan thought. Shelby's response was not as kind.

"While that was perfectly done Dylan, I didn't feel anything. I didn't see or hear the real you. I have time for another audition piece, if you have one."

"Do you want my style, or pouring out the real me?"

"I can tell you're in some kind of pain. I want to hear it flow through your performance."

"Very well. I'll need a minute to get the sheets," Dylan replies as he pulls a netbook and portable printer from his duty bag. After printing out enough copies for the band and the two ladies in the audience, he takes his mark. Both women are confused as they review the sheet music.

"Hit it!" I hope you're listening Ms. Kumi - this is how you sing this song on a stage!

Kimi no kotoba wa

Yume no yasashisa kana?

USO wo zenbu

Oikakushiteru

ZURUI yo ne

Tabidatsu kimi ni

Sameta senaka misete

Kiiteita yo

Hitori tatakau no?

ZURUI yo ne

"Kaettekuru kara"

Oikoshiteyuku kimi no koe

Iji hatte

Tsuyoi FURI

Toki wo modoshite

"Sakebeba yokatta?"

Ikanai de to namida koboshitara?

Ima wa dekiru

Donna koto mo

Ienakatta

Sen no kotoba wo

Haruka na

Kimi no senaka ni okuru yo

Tsubasa ni kaete

Ienakatta

Sen no kotoba wa

Kizutsuita

kimi no senaka ni yorisoi

dakishimeru

Yume no tsuduki wa

Kimi wo omoinagara

Ano hi no koto

Wasureta furishite

ZURUI yo ne

"Tegami wo kaku kara"

Shisen sorashita kimi no koe

iji hatte

Tsuyoi FURI

Toki wo modoshite

"Okoreba yokatta?"

Matenai yo to kata wo otoshitara?

Ima wa dekiru

Donna koto mo

Kikoeteru?

Sen no kotoba wo

Mienai

Kimi no senaka ni okuru yo

Tsubasa ni kaete

Kikoeteru?

Sen no kotoba wa

Tsukareta

Kimi no senaka ni yorisoi

Dakishimeru

Ienakatta

Sen no kotoba wo

Lalalala..

Kimi no senaka ni okuru yo

Tsubaksa ni kaete

Kikoeteru?

Sen no kotoba wa

Lalalala..

Kimi no senaka ni yorisoi

Lalalalala...

Dylan finishes the song and realizes that he's crying. He pulls out his pocket square and wipes his face, hoping that he hasn't been crying for too long. As he looks around he notices that everyone's teary-eyed, even the guy who must be Jessie Saint James. It seems that everyone who heard him sing knew the pain this song brought back to Dylan.

Partially composed Shelby begins to speak. "Dylan, that was... amazing! I can see why you were the lead vocalist for both clubs you were in. And this song works with a baritone register as well as the intended alto."

"Thank you Ms. Shelby," Dylan replies shakily. Why can't I compose myself? I'm supposed to be over this.

"You were singing this song to someone, weren't you Dylan?" Shelby asks as she blots her remaining tears.

"Yeah," he replies as he gazes at the ground, trying to find enough words to explain but not reveal the entire truth. "I... lost someone very close to me almost five years ago. My family thought it would keep him safe, but he isn't. And I can't fix what's wrong because it'll..." he trails off, unable to find a way to explain what happened in that nightmare.

"You don't need to explain Dylan, if it's something that personal," Jessie approaches the new member of his troupe. He extends his hand and is met with a strong, firm handshake.

"Welcome to Vocal Adrenaline Dylan Howard!" Shelby calls, smiling at how the Jessie Saint James she first saw three years ago has resurfaced. I can't start to second guess my plan. I have to stay distant...

"Thank you Ms. Shelby. I'm looking forward to our first rehearsal and performance," Dylan replies while pulling Jessie into a man-hug. He didn't flinch. That's a good sign.

"For you we can do Monday/Wednesday/Friday, but you have to also show up for Saturday rehearsals. Does that work ma'am?" as she turns her head to Colonel Hallison. The colonel simply nods her approval. When Dylan finds out that Chris is the only one who can do a triple flip, he strikes up a friendship and begins to work out a double routine for performances.

...

It was almost time for the performance when Dylan took a peek out of the curtains. The group that caught his attention was a young man with a chiseled jawline and a dimple-chin sitting next to a nervous-looking red-head. a Streisand-esque young woman sitting next to a lanky teen with black hair, an obviously gay, porcelain-skinned young man sitting with a big diva-in-waiting black girl. and a nerdy kid in a wheelchair with a goth girl, who must've been his girlfriend. Dylan grabbed Chris and Jessie and had them sneak a look.

"If that kid's in the closet, it must be made out of Saran Wrap!" Jessie quipped with a smirk.

"Does he even realize that if you don't have a trophy wife on your arm you can't wear scarves?" Chris pipped in, trying not to chuckle.

"Not everyone has the luxury of being as manly as we are guys," Dylan almost sang as he pulled his head back behind the curtain. "It's show time boys!"

Once on their marks, Jessie, Chris, Dylan, and Andrea looked at each other, nodded, and the curtains rose.

Ohio, Ohio, Ohiiiioooo.

They tried to make me go to rehab, and I said, "No, no, no"

Yes, I've been black but when I come back you'll know, know, know

I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine

He's tried to make me go to rehab, and I won't go, go, go

I'd rather be at home with Ray (with Ray)

I ain't got seventeen days

'Cause there's nothing, nothing, nothing you can teach me

That I can't learn from Mr. Hathaway

I didn't get a lot in class

But I know we don't come in a shot glass

They tried to make me go to rehab, and I said, "No, no, no"

Yes, I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know

I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine

He's tried to make me go to rehab, and I won't go, go, go

The man said, "Why do you think you're here?" (Why do you think you're here?)

I said, "I got no idea" (I got no idea)

I'm gonna, gonna, gonna lose my baby (gonna lose my baby)

So I always keep a bottle near

He said, "I just think you're depressed (just think you're depressed)

Kiss me (Kiss me), yeah baby and go rest"

They tried to make me go to rehab, and I said, "No, no, no"

Yes, I've been black but when I come back you'll know, know, know

I don't ever wanna drink again

I just, ooh, I just need a friend (I just need a friend)

I'm not gonna spend ten weeks (I'm not gonna spend it)

Have everyone think I'm on the mend

And it's not just my pride (just my pride)

It's just 'til these tears have dried

They tried to make me go to rehab,and I said, "No, no, no"

Yes, I've been black but when I come back you'll know (know), know (know), know

I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine

He's tried to make me go to rehab, I won't go, go, go

Dylan snuck a glance at the audience and felt a little guilty at the looks on the group who had stood out. It looked like someone had taken their dreams, made toilet paper, and used it in front of their children. He mentally shrugged and followed the troupe out to prep for the next number.

On Monday he got an offer to have someone else take his classes - Dylan declined the offer. Being the only member of Vocal Adrenaline to actually attend their classes themselves, he instantly gained popularity equal to the cheerleaders and footballers. If only I had someone to share this with...

Before Regionals he finds out about a plan to psyche out the New Directions. When he found out about some simple details, such as 1) Egging a vegan, who 2) is Ms. Shelby's daughter, lead to 3) Dylan quitting Vocal Adrenaline. He only looked back to Chris and nodded. They saw Dylan fire off a text as he stormed out, but ignored the fact Chris opened his phone right after:

D - Sry man, but u kno how it is. And don't wry, no1 finds out bout S.D., gr8 ksr. ;)

C - Thx! Cant 'ieve it hpned. Awsme tho! GL. Mandy says 'hi' :P

...

"There will be a mandatory assembly today at 11:30 before lunch. The New Directions will be performing a number before a lecture on inhalant abuse and its consequences." Principle Figgins voice came through the P.A. system. There wasn't much he did that made total sense.

Great, I have to see those losers do something from the Wicked or Disco Inferno catalogue. Mr. Scheuster's a moron that wouldn't know good music if it crawled up his ass and banged his hot wife, Karofsky thought as he sat in Geometry, wondering why he thought of music being able to bang anyone. He rushed his pop quiz and handed it in. With a quick glance Mrs. Dimalson scribbled '100%' and waved him to his desk.

After Spanish and Biology it was time for the assembly. He was certain those six losers would be performing Le Freak, which he was expecting. Azimio couldn't find a way to pull a Carrie on them, so they just took their seats. As soon as the first note rang, KZ looked at each other with their signature 'WTF?' look. They're gonna do Salt-'N'-Peppa's 'Push It?' Karofsky thought

While Z was staring at that Tina girl, Karofsky couldn't resist the urge David had to stare at Kurt. He wasn't sexy per se, and he wasn't even that good of a dancer. His slacks were tight enough to show his small but firm ass, and not too much imagining to figure out what he was packing. He was glad that no one was looking, because he was licking his lips while at the same time forcing away the tent his body was trying to pitch. Fortunately it ended soon and Karofsky was back in control.

Karofsky managed to fight David's control for a few weeks, but was caught off-guard when he found his hand taking some 'personal time' to thoughts of the Push It performance. He instinctively made sure the door was locked and tried to do it right to women's Cam4 broadcasts. Again, it didn't work, so he just finished up his World History homework, three days early, and went to sleep.

Karofsky and David were presented with identical rooms, but they weren't in the same one. Karofsky was annoyed because he needed to find the weak one and teach him a lesson in being a real person. Once he figured out how to open the doors he almost got pulled apart. What the hell's going on here? he thought as he pulled himself back into the room he was in.

David's first thought was I really gotta stop watching those Cube movies before bed. He tapped the door panel on the floor and decided that one wasn't one he wanted to go into: It was full of green water and had things floating in it. He opened the one that was behind him and saw a distorted, reflection? of himself from across this room. He ducked inside quickly and opened the door to his right.

The room was empty when he entered, but when he crossed to the portal on his right, a square, two-dimensional piece of glass appeared. Shit! Will it stay that way if I'm quiet and don't move? He froze in place and it did indeed stay a single piece of two-dimensional glass.

A quadrangular oscillation, how do I get past it? Dave thought as he tried to guess which door was least likely to be a trap. He heard someone screaming from the wall he had leaned against. It was him, and he was pissed. Dave slowly moved to the portal on the floor, glancing to make sure that thing wasn't growing... it was. Fed by that douche! He tried to open the portal but it didn't budge. He tapped it again while looking over his shoulder, and he saw the door he was running from trying to open. After several tries he got his to open. He dived head-first into the unknown room. Looking up he saw that the oscillation wasn't moving anymore, through the blur of him falling into the room. He checked all the numbers he could, found the right ones, and went through its door.

Arg! I am not happy about this! Dave thought as he waited for a room that was nothing. Once again, I'm waiting for literally nothing to appear...

...

This should show that bastard Hudson, Karofsky thought as he filled a cup with grape slushee. He didn't even bother with a lid. As he walked the halls he taunted the gleeks, enjoying every second. Target in sight, fire! He had barely gotten four steps away when he was spun around and shoved into a row of lockers.

"Karofsky what the hell?" Finn screamed through a now frozen face.

"I've been waiting since fifth grade to do that when you made fun of me for getting pubes!" Karofsky sneered, enjoying his handiwork. "Now that you've joined Lullaby Leads and insperminated the Queen of the Chastity Ball, you've fallen below the hockey team on the social ladder. And now it's open season," he finishes with a shove to Finn and a glare at Quinn as he saunters off (in a masculine way of course).

"He's such a douchebag," Quinn seethes as she pulls Finn to the choir room. Once on his own guidance she pulls a towel out of her duffle and begins to pat his face down. Great, I'm starting to lose everything... she sadly thinks to herself.

...

Everything's fine for a about four months, then a Gaga explosion hits. Karofsky hates to agree with David and even finds it disgusting, but this Lady Gaga's pretty good. The chicks are hot (You're lying to yourself, you know that right? David says. Fuck you queermo! Karofsky replies.). And you can dance to all of those songs except Alejandro. KZ's just doing their normal walk of the halls when they see... Gaga! All of the gleek girls and Hummel... who's wearing her silver dress from Bad Romance.

"Bro, we gotta do something," Karofsky quietly informs his friend.

"That Tina should not be flashing her body like that! She's nowhere near slutty enough to be doing that." I do have to admit that Hummel's pulling off that look well, and not looking like a drunken runway model. And I would totally sell myself to Tina, if she'd let me rip those bubbles off her.

"Time to step up our game Z. Locker checks."

"Wait, both of them?" Azimio can't believe what he's hearing. I could out him, but that'll take ten tazers and a dozen tranq darts to pull off. Damn it you closet fuck!

"Yeah, gotta problem?"

"Hummel, fine. Not Tina, got it?"

"Whatever." Karofsky takes off, mind on his 'mission.' Azimio falls behind. "You get Hummel."

Target in sight. Hummel, locker checked... with Tina?

What the fuck's your angle you fucking douche-nozzle! You don't do that to chicks! Azimio thinks to himself, trying to blast it into his friend's mind. For a brief second he thinks it worked. Nope. Time to handle this bitch-fit.

With it being handled, they part ways. After school Azimio lays into Karofsky about the rules with chicks and how slushees are the only allowed method of forcing order. His response of "Whatever dude," was the last straw and Z storms out of the Karofsky household.

A beatdown of Hummel, however, was somewhat justified, but he was uncomfortable because K wouldn't admit that it was 'cause Hummel was out and flaming, not for being a freak. Azimio wasn't Catholic, but he went to a confessional after the gleeks stopped them from administering a second beatdown.

David/Karofsky went to sleep that night and ended back in that Cube-thing, but Karofsky lucked out - Dylan was there, passed out. After some cajoling (and unadmitted feel-ups) he was awake - and fighting.

"Nice moves fag. How many times do I have to kill you anyway?"

"Looks like the magic number's 61," Dylan shouts as he jumps to the top panel and enters the portal.

This won't easy, Karofsky thinks as he climbs to follow. He's not there though. That's right, thing shifts on its own, huh?

Dylan doesn't even bother checking to see if there's traps, he just moves through rooms. He must have had some kind of beacon because after about 30 rooms, he finds David, crying in a corner.

Hey. What's wrong? Dylan asks.

What? Dylan? Izat really you? David stops sobbing and embraces his lost friend.

You, don't remember, last time? Dylan asks.

What do you mean 'last time?'

Oh. Well, I think I can help you, Dylan replies, pulling something out of his jacket.

You, think I can sing this? David asks as he takes the sheet music. Lithium?

You bet love! You can do it!

I'll give it a shot...

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside

Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...

Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.

Oh, but God, I want to let it go...

Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone,

Couldn't hide the emptiness, you let it show

Never wanted it to be so cold.

Just didn't drink enough to say you love me.

I can't hold on to me,

Wonder what's wrong with me

Karofsky finds his way into the room by falling through the ceiling. Keep singing! You need to do this! Dylan screams as he takes on Karofsky.

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside

Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...

Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.

"Shut UP!" Karofsky shrieks as he tries to get Dylan in a head lock. Anything that pisses him off has to be good for US! Dylan pleads.

Don't want to let it lay me down this time,

Drown my will to fly.

Here in the darkness I know myself,

Can't break free until I let it go,

Let me go...

Darling, I forgive you.. after all,

Anything is better than to be alone,

And in the end I guess I had to fall,

Always find my place among the ashes

I can't hold on to me,

Wonder what's wrong with me

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside

Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...

Lithium, I want to stay in love with you.

I'm gonna let it go

With the song done David feels a little stronger. He pauses for a second and barely catches Dylan as he's flung into him by Karofsky. He looks tired. Is it my singing?

You, have to fight him... yourself. You can do it.

How do I fight myself...

They are all saved by the bells of their respective alarm clocks. Another day at the grind. No one notices the smirk on Karofsky's face, or the fact that for the first time that year,Dylan's the quiet one.


"Season 2" begins with the next chapter. I'm still having trouble with getting MY formatting to work with this site. I may have to start using tabs, which EVERY computer and web design teacher I've ever had has said Hell to the Nah to.