Chapter 2

Kurt was sitting in the living room reading a book when the doorbell rang. He was annoyed; it was a lot harder to get some quiet time alone in the house now that Carole and Finn were in residence. He knew he was being a brat about it, since the good things about their new family situation well outweighed the bad. But he'd been an indulged only child for almost 17 years, and sometimes it was hard for him to adjust. At least he knew Finn felt the same way too, sometimes.

Burt and Carole were at their bowling league, and Finn was at Rachel's, presumably doing that thing he wasn't able to do in his own bedroom anymore (the new slipcovers were actually a very nice dark burgundy). Kurt put his book down and went to answer the door, mentally cursing whoever it was on the other side. If it was those damn door-to-door Bible thumpers again…

He whipped open the door to see the one person on the face of the earth he'd never expect. Dave Karofsky stood there on his porch, head turning from side to side as if trying to gauge if he was being seen. The blood drained out of Kurt's face - he hadn't seen Karofsky in a couple of months, not since he'd dropped out of McKinley to avoid having his brains turned into oatmeal by the twice daily locker slammings. Terrified, he tried to close the door, only to be blocked by Karofsky's giant sneaker. Oh God, did he know Kurt was all alone in the house?

"C'mon Hummel, let me in. I need to talk to you!" His voice was slightly muffled by the door.

Kurt was pushing against the door with all his might. He was surprisingly strong; all that dancing built plenty of muscle, even if it wasn't the kind you got from lifting weights or playing football. Still, Karofsky was much broader and heavier than Kurt, and he didn't doubt for a minute how easily he could be overpowered by the larger boy.

"You must think I'm an idiot! I'm not letting you in here! Fuck off!" he cried.

"Kurt, please. I really need to talk to you." Kurt was taken aback by several things. Karofsky had called him by his first name. He'd said please. And strangest of all, his voice sounded completely sincere. Kurt was still scared as shit, but he had to admit he didn't think Karofsky was that good of an actor. He also realized that there was no counter-pressure coming from the other side of the door.

"Take your foot out of the door. I need a minute." he said shakily. He let up on the door a little, and Karofsky's shoe slid out. Kurt closed the door and locked it, leaning his back against it for support as his breathing returned to normal. He took his cell phone out of his pocket, dialed 911, and stuck it back in his pants. If things went bad, all he would have to do was hit the send button. Cautiously, he unlocked and opened the door.

Karofsky stood there looking worried and a little embarrassed. "I wasn't sure you were going to open that door again." he said quietly.

"Me either. Kurt gestured for Karofsky to cross the threshold. "Okay, start talking."

"Can we maybe sit down?" Karofsky asked.

Jesus, thought Kurt, next he'll want me to bring out tea and sandwiches. "I guess so." He led the way into the living room, touching the phone in his pocket to remind himself of its presence. He sat on the couch, and Karofsky proceeded to sit at the other end, as far away as he could be while sharing the same piece of furniture. "Okay, we're sitting. Could you please get to the point already?" he said in a snotty tone.

Karofsky looked down at his clasped hands, then back up at Kurt. "I need your help." he said.

Kurt barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes dramatically. "What could you possibly need my help with? And why would I even want to help you in the first place?"

"I think I want to come out of the closet, Kurt." His voice somehow managed to communicate fear, sadness and excitement all at once. His eyes never left Kurt's.

Kurt's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He was entirely speechless. Apparently, Dave Karofsky had quite the talent for rendering him so. He swallowed, and tried again. "You what?"

"I want to come out. I'm sick of hiding who I am! I hate taking out Cheerios and resisting the urge to throw up when we make out. And most of all, I'm tired of pretending I haven't felt like crying every day since you left school." To Kurt's amazement, Karofsky's eyes became shiny with tears. "I don't blame you. I was fucking awful to you, shoving you around like that. I was just so pissed off and scared every time I saw you, so worried that everyone could tell what I was really feeling when I saw you in the halls. I had to make sure they never suspected. I had to."

Kurt was not only surprised by the content of the words, but the sheer number of them. He didn't think he'd heard Karofsky say that many words total, let alone all at once.

"And then you had to come running after me, and then I had to kiss you, like a goddammned idiot. I can't believe I thought you'd kiss me back. I could see how grossed out you were, and it killed me. I'd been dreaming about kissing you for 2 years, and then I had to go fuck it all up." He put his head in his hands briefly. "But even then, I couldn't keep from pushing you into the lockers. No, I had to keep making it worse, like the fuckup I am. I kept thinking that at least I got to touch you that way. How frigging sick is that?"

Kurt stayed silent, figuring it was a rhetorical question.

"And then you were gone. I had driven away the only person who might have actually accepted me the way I am. So I realized something had to change. Something had to change," he repeated, "or I was going to eat the barrel of my dad's hunting rifle." His eyes were haunted, and Kurt could tell he wasn't being melodramatic. It's not like he himself wasn't familiar with the urge, although it had thankfully been both rare and fleeting.

Karofsky continued, "I stopped pushing people into lockers, giving slushie facials, that kind of shit. Azimio gave me all sorts of crap over it, until I slammed him up against a locker, and told him I wasn't interested in beating up on people any more unless they gave me grief. He called me a fag, and I said I didn't care what he thought I was, as long as he stayed out of my way and out of my face."

Kurt could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You really did that?" he breathed.

"Yup. I'm telling you, I've changed. I had to." He looked across the room for a minute, like he was trying to nerve himself up to confess something. After what he'd just heard, Kurt wasn't going to even try to guess what Karofsky would come out with next. He looked back at Kurt. "I always hoped you'd come back. That your dad would run out of tuition money, or you'd have a fight with that pretty boy, something. You'd have to come back to McKinley, and I needed to be a different person when you did. So I could…" he trailed off.

"So you could…" surely this wasn't going where Kurt thought it was going? No way.

"So I could ask you for another chance. A chance to start over again. I know you probably hate me for bullying you, but that wasn't really me, Kurt. Not the real me, the person I really am inside." He looked at Kurt pleadingly, and Kurt felt his stomach do a tiny little jump at the emotion in Karofsky's hazel eyes. "I couldn't wait any longer, and started thinking you might never come back, that I'd never see you again. So I had to come to you. I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just want a chance for you to get to know me again, without the bullshit manly-man act. You still might not like me, but at least you'll be rejecting the real Dave Karofsky this time around."

Kurt didn't know what to say, so he just sat there, totally nonplussed. Dave (he somehow was finding it hard to think of him as Karofsky after all of this) slid closer on the couch, slowly and carefully, so as not to startle Kurt. He gently raised his hand to Kurt's face, cupping his baby-soft cheek. Kurt was distantly surprised to realize he had no desire to flinch, or pull away from Dave's hand. In fact, it felt kind of…nice?

" Just give me a chance to make it all up to you, Kurt. Please, I promise I'll never hurt you again. And I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you, too. Just give me a chance…" he closed his eyes and brought his lips gently to Kurt's.

So Kurt closed his eyes, and gave Dave Karofsky his chance.