Kurt could only see a jumble of things. Harsh, fluorescent lights, a red coat, hardwood floors, more bright lights, a worried face. He was just slightly bouncing up and down, but only gradually realized he was being carried diagonally across a gymnasium. He didn't know who was carrying him or where he was going. But Kurt was beyond fear, beyond terror, beyond anything to make him feel anymore. It had been slammed out of him.
.
Karofsky was scared. Kurt had his arm around Karofsky's neck, limply, barely hanging on. Kurt wasn't very heavy as Karofsky carried him across the gymnasium.
Kurt, please, snap out of it!
Karofsky held onto Kurt even tighter, not caring if it hurt Kurt. He was in protector mode and was determined to fix this situation. He knew the locker room had what he needed and was heading right towards the place with Kurt that haunted his memories. But Kurt needed help. Memories be damned.
.
Kurt's head fell against whoever or whatever had possession of him.
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Karofsky noticed that Kurt's head fell limply along Dave's broad chest. It made Dave feel good on the one hand, but bad on the other. Kurt had resigned to Dave's care, and it felt good to have the beautiful boy in his arms, with his head on his chest. But, Kurt was in trouble and it was all caused by Karofsky.
What have I done?
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Kurt saw out of the corner of his eye that they were approaching a brown door. His body was shifted a little as his possessor opened the door and entered into another dimly lit hallway. The shift from bright lights to much lowered lights confused him, but didn't scare him. Kurt was numb. Way, way too numb.
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Karofsky entered the locker room. Rows and rows of ordinary, red lockers with narrow wooden benches occupied the room. They were completely alone. He carried Kurt to the far end of the locker room, where the injury benches were located. The injury benches were the same height as the other benches, but were much wider. One could easily lie down and stretch out on these injury benches and Kurt was definitely injured.
Karofsky walked over to one and gently placed Kurt down, cradling his head. Kurt simply looked broken as Karofsky towered over him. Karofsky was worried….and fighting off tears.
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Kurt was now staring at a ceiling. He didn't know where he was or why he was there. Ordinary, incandescent bulbs hung from the ceiling and red occupied his peripheral vision. But to his right, he began to recognize a tall, very large figure. The figure wore red and a black "M", but he still couldn't make out who or what it was.
Kurt wriggled a little under the hard wood, but otherwise made no move to sit up, get up, or protect himself in any way. Bluntly put, he was at the mercy of whoever carried him here. He now realized he was carried wherever he was, but didn't know why.
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Karofsky nervously looked around. He didn't know what to do. Kurt's normally meticulous self was a mess – delicate white shirt untucked, pants hiked up to his calves, his eyes staring up and absolutely nothing, mouth closed. Sympathy and guilt nearly bowled Karofsky over.
I bet he's thirsty.
Karofsky left.
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Kurt was still dazed and he made no effort to right himself. His head began to slowly flop from one side to the other. He didn't know why. It just flopped of its own accord, apparently. When he had completed about four revolutions of his head, he saw that same red large presence sit down near his right arm, a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. Kurt stopped, looking at the figure. It was a man.
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Karofsky was sitting down right beside Kurt. He took another look at Kurt but found it was getting harder and harder to look at Kurt right now. This wasn't the Kurt Hummel that he had grown to admire, hate, lust after, and finally, envy. He couldn't stand seeing Kurt like this and needed to help any way he could. He lowered his right hand to Kurt's face.
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Kurt felt a hand cradle the back of his head. Slowly, gently, his head was being raised. Automatically, he pulled his arms back and was able to prop himself on his elbows. He looked forward, but not at the red man. He then felt something hard on his lips. A cup.
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Karofsky put a plastic cup filled with water to Kurt's lips, a quiet suggestion to drink. Kurt kept his eyes forward, but slightly opened his mouth to accept the water. Kurt finally did. Karofsky smiled just a bit.
Please come back, Kurt.
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Kurt felt cold liquid on his lips and finally, his tongue. Water. He drank and drank until the cup was empty. The water felt good. He felt the cup being pulled away. He wanted more.
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Karofsky set the cup aside, but still cradled Kurt's head. Kurt very slowly turned his head, still cradled by Karofsky, towards him. Kurt's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus. For the first time in several minutes, he heard Kurt speak.
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"Kuuuurosskyyy…" Kurt muttered.
Dave's heart was breaking.
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Kurt finally recognized who was taking care of him. It was his nemesis, David Karofsky. But, he wasn't terrified or grateful or anything. He was…nothing.
.
Karofsky smiled a little at Kurt.
"Kurt?" Karofsky asked. "Kurt?"
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Kurt heard his name being called. The words invaded his brain and he saw Karofsky's lips move, but didn't make the connection that the words were coming from Karofsky's lips. Gradually, he did recognize them and responded.
"Kuurskyyyy." Kurt mumbled. "Karofsky." Kurt said, a little stronger.
.
Finally, it was time for normal conversation to take place. Kurt had recovered enough and Dave's anxiousness began to subside.
.
"Kurt? Do you want more water?" Dave asked protectively.
Kurt regarded him for a moment, before responding by nodding. Karofsky gently led Kurt's head back down to the injury bench and ran off to get a refill.
Karofsky was back in record time. He cradled Kurt's head to an upward position and found it a little easier to pull Kurt's head up. Kurt propped himself up on his elbows a little easier and tried to pull his hand up to handle the cup. But his hand wasn't quite reaching the cup.
Karofsky simply ignored Kurt's attempts and held the glass to Kurt's lips. Kurt nearly drank all of the water in one gulp before closing his lips off and pulling his head to the side, a sign that he'd had enough water. Karofsky set the cup down to the side, still cradling Kurt's head.
Kurt finally looked up and was better able to focus on his protector.
"Karofsky." Kurt said.
"Yeah, it's me." Karofsky replied, sheepishly, "You couldn't get up out there in the hallway. So, I carried you into the boy's locker room and let you rest a little before I gave you some water."
Kurt mulled these words over in his brain before saying the words that could break David Karofsky's heart….
"I thought you wanted to kill me."
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