Corresponding episode: A Night of Neglect

Mildly graphic (medical, not sexual)

xoxoxo

It was Monday morning and David was still feeling queasy. His dad, usually a stickler for attendance and punctuality had even let him take the day off from school. After listening to David empty his stomach every hour or so over the weekend, Paul couldn't deny that David truly wasn't feeling well, even if he didn't have a temperature. David lay in bed watching some inane morning news program where the two anchors tried to sound cute and funny as they bickered back and forth. If was pissing David off to no end. News shows were for news, not for comedy. If he wanted funny news, he'd watch John Stewart or the Colbert Report. Hearing a buzzing on the nightstand next to him, David muted the television and leaned over to grab his cell phone.

You Home? – Kurt

David sent off a quick "yes" before returning to the TV. A moment later, the phone, now in his lap, buzzed again.

Alone?

Furrowing his brow, David responded affirmatively again. A moment later he heard the downstairs door open and Kurt's beautiful voice called out his name. "What the hell, Hummel?"

He could hear Kurt bounding up the stairs and couldn't help feeling mildly violated as Kurt opened his door without so much as knocking. "I was worried about you. You looked out of it all last week and then you got sick in glee club. Are you okay?"

Dave shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. I just have a bug or something."

Kurt kneeled on the bed next to Dave, making him feel self-conscious about his shirt-less state. Kurt placed his hand on David's forehead and then his cheek. "You don't have a temperature, you aren't clammy, you aren't pale or flushed. I don't think you have a cold or the flu."

"Well, then it's food poisoning. All I know is I feel lousy."

Kurt shook his head as he looked David over. "No…you would know if it was food poisoning. I got it a few times, as did my father, before I forbade him from cooking any kinds of meats, poultries, or fish without my direct supervision."

David pulled his comforter up over his chest, not liking having his chubbiness exposed to Kurt's scrutiny. "I don't know what to tell you. I can't keep any food down. The smell of my shampoo makes me want to puke and I have a constant feeling of nausea."

It didn't go unnoticed by Kurt that David covered himself up. He was used to it. Years of being forced to use the same locker room as his straight male counterparts had made him acutely aware of people's discomfort around him. "Think maybe it's stress related?"

"I'm not stressed."

Kurt raised his eyebrows at David. "Bull. You've been stressed for weeks and I think we both know why."

David pouted and looked away from Kurt. "If I didn't get sick right away, why would I get sick over it now?"

Kurt thought about that for a few minutes. It sucked that David wouldn't speak to a professional. Kurt wasn't sure how much longer he could find all the answers for David. "Maybe it's been steadily eating away at you? Maybe the feeling of being sick over this has just…built up into…well, this." Kurt gestured to David in his bed, likely alluding to his current state of distress. Picking up David's cell phone, Kurt flicked his thumb across the screen, unlocking it. "Do you have your general practitioner's number in here?"

"Yeah…why?"

Kurt opened up David's phone app and began scrolling through his contacts. "Because as soon as we figure out why you're sick, the sooner we can make you better. I'm going to see if I can get you an appointment today."

Kurt could hear David let out a little growl under his breath. "It's under 'Amber.' Amber is my doctor."

Kurt quickly found the name, had the phone dial the number and awaited the receptionists. When they answered, Kurt was quick to tell them David's symptoms and was lucky enough to get an appointment in the next hour.

xoxoxo

"You're like my mom…but worse. My mom just tells me to put on my big-boy panties and get over it."

They sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office, Kurt reading old issues of Cosmo while David stared, dead-eyed, at the old covers of The Saturday Evening Post decorating the walls. He fucking hated Norman Rockwell paintings. "Yes, well, I'd be inclined to agree with her if I didn't know what I do, if you were just mildly ill, and if it hadn't been going on for a week." They continued to sit in silence for the next few minutes. Suddenly, David's eyes went wide. Kurt watched as David shot, like a rocket, out of his seat and towards a door across the room. Almost as soon as the door was closed, Kurt could hear David retching. A young nurse came into the waiting room and looked around, "David Karsosy?"

"It's Karofsky. And he's in the bathroom…dying."

Having heard his name, David came back out, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. "I'm not dying. I just feel like it."

The nurse held the door open, "Come on back, Mr. Karofsky. Let's check you out." Putting the Cosmo aside, Kurt got up and followed them, unbidden.

xoxoxo

After the nurse took David's pulse (normal), blood pressure (normal), and temperature (normal), she gave him a paper gown to change into and handed him a plastic cup. "Could you please go into that room right there, change and provide a urine sample."

David looked at the cup, then Kurt. Blushing, he replied meekly, "sure."

After David went into the adjoining bathroom, the nurse left Kurt alone in the examination room. The doctor, Amber, came in before David had finished. "Hello, I'm doctor Amber Rhys. And you are not David."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm just here for support."

Amber cocked her head at that, but decided not to question it. Little kids often had their parents with them at the doctors for support. Victims of assault sometimes had someone for support. Those suffering from serious diseases very frequently brought someone for support. Rarely did people coming in for a minor cold or flu bring support. "I've been David's doctor since he was about eight."

"He and I have been good friends for…years." Kurt stalled as he lied about the length of time they had been friends. It would be very odd for him to be there if he told the truth about how long they'd been friends.

Kurt could tell from the way Amber looked at him that she thought something was off. But she didn't voice any concerns, for that, Kurt was grateful. David came back out, trying to hold the gown closed in the back, while presenting the plastic cup to Dr. Rhys. "Sorry, there isn't a whole lot. I haven't been able to keep anything down long enough for it to pass my stomach."

Amber looked over the sample and set it aside. "That should be fine, David. So tell me, how are you feeling?"

David sat on the end of the examination bed, crinkling the paper liner as he did so. "I've been really nauseated for like, a week or so. I can't eat anything except rice, bread, and dry cereal. And even that usually comes back up after a while."

Amber began feeling around David's face, first his forehead, then his cheeks, then under his jaw. "No temperature, no swollen glands. Open up and say 'ahhh…'" Sticking a tongue depressor and flashlight in David's mouth, Amber made a low humming noise. "Your throat is fine. A bit red, but that's probably from throwing up so often. No scratches in there from fingernails, so that's good."

David glared at her. "I'm not bulimic and I'm not faking."

"Dave, I've been your doctor for ages. I know how you are about your weight. I'm just ruling out any possibilities."

Kurt felt slightly startled at that. David was sensitive about his weight? Now Kurt felt bad for all the times he had called David "chubby" or something similar. He knew he didn't like Puck and Finn teasing him in middle school, but had they actually caused the poor boy to have body-image issues?

Taking out her stethoscope, Amber listened to David's lungs, prompting him to breath deeply, hold his breath, release his breath, and breath normally as necessary for her examination. "Lungs sound fine. Okay, talking time."

Amber began asking David loads of questions, mostly repeating the ones he had filled out on a form when they first got to the waiting room. This continued on for a while. David appeared to be in peak physical condition based on his responses.

"Allergies?"

"Nope"

"Are you on any medications?"

"Nope"

"Are you sexually active?"

"Nope"

"Do you have any history of dizziness?"

"Nope"

"Wait, wait a minute. David, tell her the truth."

David turned to face Kurt, genuine confusion on his face. "The only time I get dizzy is when I don't get enough fluids at practice."

Kurt shook his head. "No, not that question, the one before it."

"Are you sexually active?" Amber prompted the question again.

Dave shook his head. "I'm not."

"David" Kurt said it in his best mother hen voice.

In a low, threatening growl, Kurt could hear David reply, "That doesn't count."

Amber adjusted herself so that she was between David and Kurt. "I'm sure whatever it is, it does count."

David didn't look at either of them and stared, instead, at the floor. "David, please. She's a professional. She'll understand."

Amber placed her hand over David's. "Honey, I've been your doctor for almost ten years. Have I ever given you a reason to think you can't trust me? The law demands that you be able to trust me one hundred percent…If it makes you more comfortable, I can send Kurt out."

"He already knows." Amber waited patiently for David to go on. David sucked in his breath and expelled it, taking repetitive deep breaths, trying to compose himself. "I…there was this party. And there was this guy. Things happened and he…I didn't want to." David was trying not to cry at this point. His eyes and cheeks were red from fighting back the tears.

"Davey, honey. Were you raped?" David just nodded. "David, there's no reason to be ashamed. Who knows?"

When David didn't respond, Kurt answered her. "You, me, a couple of police officers, a few doctors and nurses at the hospital, the one that did it…and that's it."

Amber nodded. "David, I know this must be really hard for you to deal with. But you aren't alone. They have support groups and hotlines and psychiatrists that all specialize in rape. As much as I hate it, rape is more common in the United States than most developed countries. One in six women report that someone either attempted or succeeded in raping them. Many rapes go unreported, however, so some estimates put that as high as 1 in 4."

David kept staring at the floor, a little pool of tears forming on the white tiles directly below his nose. "But I'm not a chick."

"One in ten reported rapes are rapes that happened to males." David looked up at that, a tear dangling from his chin. "And men are less likely to report being raped for the same reasons you don't want to talk about it. So they're probably a lot more common than statistics suggest. There's a popular misconception that it's only weak or loose woman that get raped. But that isn't true at all."

"Weak and loose woman, weak and loose men," was David's response.

Amber shook her head. "No, honey. Anyone can be raped. No matter how strong they are. There's currently an investigation going on in the military because there have been so many reports of male on male rape. There are so many lies and myths about rape out there. Anyone can be a victim of rape: men, woman, adults, children, those who can't defend themselves as well as those who identify themselves as 'tough,' married people, single people. In fact, spousal rape is one of the most under-reported rape circumstances because many people refuse to even acknowledge it as rape." David was listening quietly, watching Amber talk. "No matter who you are, any time you don't want it, even if you did initially, it's rape. Two people can be in the middle of consensual sex and the second one of them says 'no,' if the other doesn't comply, it's rape."

David looked down again and sniffled. He was quite for a long while as Kurt rubbed soothing circles on his back. The clock on the wall ticked away incessantly until David was finally able to speak. "I was at this party. Kurt was there too, but I didn't see him. Not until later. It was a big house. I was hanging out on the back porch. A bunch of guys were back there drinking and smoking. Most of them didn't even look gay, even though I knew the party was specifically for people who are gay. There was this guy there, we sat next to each other on the couch, just shooting the bull for a while. He was wearing a hockey jersey. A local or school one, not NHL or anything, so I figured he must play. He did play, and we talked for a long time. I never figured there would be other gay athletes out there, other guys like me." David paused, smiling weakly at the memory of how relieved he had been to find out not all gay guys were fashionable, theatre-afficionadoes."I figured they were all like Kurt.

"He was the same age as me, but he was like, I dunno, six inches taller than me. And built. I think he was a goalie. That would make sense. We talked and drank for a while. After a long time, I realized he was flirting with me. It was weird; no one…guys or girls ever really flirted with me. I don't exactly come off as 'approachable.' I wasn't interested though. I told him I was just there to try and figure things out. Even if I was comfortable and ready to date, I wasn't interested in him. He was nice, but not, like… sexy or anything." David wrapped his arms around his middle and hugged himself tightly.

"I'd totally want to play ball with him or something, but not date him. I didn't tell him all that, though. Just that I wasn't ready to date and was just trying to figure myself out. He acted like that was cool and whatever. When we ran out of booze on the porch, he went out to the kitchen and came back with a few Coors. I don't like Coors, much, but you know, once you're drunk, beer is beer. Sometime after I started drinking it, things started getting…fuzzy. My head felt light and fluffy, but my body felt heavy. I told him I didn't feel too good. He told me he'd help me find someplace to lie down until I was feeling better. I trusted him. He took me upstairs and sat me down on the bed. He told me he was going to take off my shoes and my pants so I could get comfortable. I knew something was wrong with that, but I couldn't really think straight. I tried pushing him away, but it was like my arm was numb." David held his arm out and looked at it accusatory, like it was his arm's fault he couldn't defend himself.

"I knew it was there, I could feel it, but it was heavy and I couldn't really control my movements. The rest of my body kind of went like that. I ended up rolling off the bed and onto the floor. He shoved my face into the carpet and just…"

David stopped talking then, instead waving his hand absently through the air as though the rest were self-explanatory. It was the most Kurt had ever heard David talk about the rape. Even talking to the doctors at Lima Memorial his story was maybe a quarter that length. David was eerily calm, but at least he seemed better than when he had been crying before. He seemed a little relieved, even. Amber stayed with them for another five minutes, quietly watching David. When it didn't look as though her presence was either helping or hindering David, she announced, "I don't think your symptoms fall in line with any STDs I'm familiar with, but I'm going to check your urine and see if that gives us any ideas. Okay?" Dave nodded and gave her a small smile when she squeezed his hand.

After Amber left, Kurt wrapped his arms around David's shoulders and gave him a tight hug. He pet Dave's curls softly. "I told you so."

David looked over his shoulder to see Kurt. "What do you mean?"

Rubbing his hand up and down David's arm, Kurt responded "I told you that you would feel better if you talked to someone, a professional."

David shrugged Kurt's arm off his shoulders, but Kurt could see a little smirk on his lips even as David turned away and sniffled. "You say "I told you so" to me ever again and I'm giving you a titty-twister."

Kurt tucked his hands under his armpits, his pecks protected by his arms. "You leave my boobies alone."

David nudged Kurt playfully with his elbow, feeling far better about himself than he had in weeks. "You don't even have any boobs. Me? I'm probably a B-cup."

Kurt wrapped his arms around David's shoulders again and leaned his chin on David's shoulder. "I think you have lovely man-boobies."

David blushed. "You got to see mine this morning, my turn." Kurt just chuckled softly. "Seriously, tits or get the fuck out."

Both of them laughed at that. David placed one of his hands over Kurt's and began rubbing it softly. Kurt nuzzled the side of his head against David's. "What are we?"

David returned his nuzzling before responding to his question, "What do you mean?"

He could feel Kurt shrug behind him. "I dunno. We're friends, obviously. But sometimes, I wonder; if things had been different between us…what comes after this? If we could fast-forward, where are we going to be?"

David closed his eyes and tried to picture what Kurt was suggesting. He was pretty okay with Kurt touching him. Kurt was always so delicate and sweet and gentle: so much the opposite of the thing that haunted his nightmares. But what would he be comfortable with? Where could he comfortably draw the line? He decided to just be honest with Kurt. "I think…what we do now, what we're doing now, that's as far as I can go right now. I really like you, Kurt. I mean, I really like you. But…even if things hadn't happened the way they had, I don't think I would be ready for anything."

Kurt nodded. "I understand. I promised you I'd stick by you and I'm holding myself to that. I'm going to stick by you until you're ready...for whatever comes." David could feel his heart flutter as Kurt placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

xoxoxo

When Amber returned, Kurt still had his arms wrapped around David's shoulders. "David, I'd like to take a blood sample to verify my hypothesis." David nodded his consent. After Amber took the sample, she left and didn't return for nearly forty-five minutes. When she did come back her expression was unreadable. "I've contacted a specialist at Lima Memorial. He'd like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

David frowned. "What the hell is it? The plague?"

Amber shook her head. "Not quite. What I believe it to be is very curable. However, I don't have the available tools to confirm my hypothesis, although your blood sample did support it. Dr. Novak can confirm or deny it and if he does confirm my suspicions, he'll be the one to treat you."

David pulled himself away from Kurt. "This isn't contagious, is it?"

Amber shook her head. "No. If it's what I believe it is, it's…it would likely be classified as a genetic disorder or developmental disorder."

"So this is something he's had his whole life? Why is he just now showing symptoms?" David nodded, wondering the same thing Kurt had just asked.

"If it's what I think it is, you've been displaying small symptoms your whole life; however, the rape aggravated some aspects of the disorder to the point that it's readily visible. You should really talk to Dr. Novak, David, he can help you far more than I can." Dr. Rhys looked flustered, like she wanted to tell them more, but wasn't certain if it was a good idea.

"Is he available today?"

"He's available now."