Will watched from behind the cameras as Sue addressed her viewers. "I'm going to talk about failure today. I'm not even talking about the people who fail to meet even one of the criteria that would make them even deserve to breathe the air I exhale—and really, people, can't you all try harder?-but about how we talk about being more competitive and about rewarding success but we fail to make it possible. That's even more pathetic than people who overload on the hair gel.
"The focus of my bile and vitriol today is a school. It's the school where I teach. As a very rare exception, I'm going to allow other people to speak on my show. It will disappoint the people who only want to see me, but you can't always get what you want. Jennifer, start."
The camera switched to a high school student. "I'm Jennifer. My grades started falling after Kelly Ferrars started bullying me right in the classroom in the classes we shared, right in front of the teachers. I couldn't concentrate any more. The principal said we had to settle our disputes ourselves." Another student. "I'm Artie. Bullies locked me in porta-potties and messed with my chair. I missed a lot of classes because of that. I was told I had to learn to stand up for myself." Another. "I'm Rachel Berry. I've missed classes, too, because I had to clean up and change my clothing after bullies threw slushies all over me. It's important that I have perfect grades so that I can enter the most competitive school of my choice." Another. "I'm Puck. I've done a lot of bullying and I've been bullied, a little. Just a little. I got to mess in serious ways with people's lives. I know there were kids who ditched school because they wanted to avoid me. Nobody in the school administration ever did anything to stop me from bullying people. I had to stop myself. And that's not right."
The camera returned to Sue. "I know a lot of you will say that you were bullied in school and you came out just fine. Ever think about how much better you'd have been if you hadn't been bullied? You might say that it taught you to stand up for yourself. Ever think about how you should have learned that from standing up for more than the freedom to live your life? That's what our schools should do, it's what McKinley should do, and it's what it fails to do. Watch the news tomorrow for more. And that's how Sue sees it."
Sue wore her usual Sue smirk as she walked over to Will. "If Figgins doesn't like this, let's just see how he reacts to tomorrow's little event." She looked at him again. "I've got to admit, Will, sometimes you do have an acceptable idea or two."
Blaine woke up again early that Saturday morning and decided that he might as well get up. He'd not slept more than a few hours total and what sleep he had gotten was restless, but getting up was better than lying in bed feeling groggy but anxious and, despite himself, still jealous. He was willing to let David find whatever consolation he could in Kurt, and sincerely hoped that he would, but it didn't mean that he wasn't still sick with jealousy. The mental image of the two of them having sex made him want to scream with frustration. As if that weren't enough, he already simply missed his Kurt's company, chatting about music or fashion or movies. He missed how easy it was to trigger Kurt into singing all out, full-throated and full-hearted.
Aside from all that, he was still troubled by how Kurt had taken things last night. Maybe he should have found a way to build up to the idea, or, better yet, see if he could find a way to make Kurt think the idea was partly his. He probably had been too abrupt, but, then, when David was in so much pain, it was hard to focus on anything but that. Kurt would understand that Blaine's first priority had to be David, who had been like an older brother to him from the first day he set foot on the Dalton campus, and who had just had his heart ripped out and apart by a pair of perfectly manicured little hands. But still, it was a shock for Kurt. Plus, Kurt didn't know David as well as Blaine did, didn't know that he would never be brutish about it.
Probably, too, Kurt's perceptions of how people would treat him had been colored, perhaps permanently, by being bullied. He'd picked up enough from Mr. Schuester and from Kurt himself to know that the bullying had been vicious and terrifying. All the more reason to find a way to keep him at Dalton, where he would be safe and cherished. In a way, it was a shame that David was graduating, since David had already been fond of Kurt before and now would be even more attached to him. It would be another person there to make Kurt feel as though he belonged.
On the other hand, Blaine admitted to himself, David's graduating meant that he wouldn't be competing with Blaine for Kurt. As much as Blaine hoped that having Kurt would give David pleasure and consolation, he also hoped that it would be the quickest emotional recovery on record. Maybe if he even started looking around for somebody who actually deserved David, that is, if the Warblers weren't already starting a task force to do just that. He could see that happening, since the Warblers tended to be very organized about things.
But in the meantime, back to Kurt. It had been a shock and even downright painful for him. Blaine hadn't dared to let it show how much Kurt's tears had gotten to him, how much he wanted to give in, to hold Kurt and tell him that he couldn't do it, not even for David's sake, then lovingly lead him to the bed and show him just how passionately desired he was. He'd have to find a way to make up for it to Kurt, something that would really please him. A trip to New York some long weekend to enjoy orchestra seats for a few of his favorite shows? He could imagine Kurt's face when he offered that, the wide grin that he'd seen in those videos. For somebody with such strong opinions on fashion, Kurt didn't seem to get very enthusiastic about shopping, but Blaine would treat himself to renewing Kurt's wardrobe with the best that Madison and Fifth Avenue could offer. Maybe he essentially had a fetish, he decided bemusedly, putting clothing on Kurt during the day and taking it off again, well, as soon as possible.
He got some coffee from the kitchen and sat at his laptop to look at what shows would be available for any of the upcoming long weekends. Spending time on that and otherwise planning the trip would keep him well-distracted from any jealous thoughts of how this morning, it was David waking up with Kurt in his arms. Maybe. At least he'd try.
Hamza was ready to avenge the watering hole incident. He and Daisuke had an ongoing vendetta and he'd made it far too easy for Isamu last time. He never, ever should have fallen asleep during DVD night, especially because he knew he often slept with his mouth wide open. It was simply inviting Daisuke to demonstrate his origami skills by folding tiny giraffes, ostriches, and elephants and carefully balancing them on his face so that it looked like they were peering into his mouth. Replacing all the photographs in the online student newspaper was the pictures Daisuke had captioned "At the Watering Hole" the only logical next step for Daisuke. But tonight, revenge would be his. He'd found and repaired a discarded wall sconce from Daisuke's dorm building. Merely building a fake wall over Daisuke's room was basic, but adding an operating light sconce and electric outlet, complete with an ice machine that would get to enjoy a vacation, well, at least a working vacation, from its usual home on the third floor, would add some flair, as would setting it in at the depth of a door, in the hope that Daisuke would automatically pull out his key and try to unlock it. The web camera hidden in the door, of course, was mandatory.
Hamza caught sight of the textbooks he'd put out to give to Kurt. He'd better do that before he left for the library. Scooping them up, he knocked on Blaine's door.
Blaine opened up, looking less than his usual polished self, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair unkempt.
"Sorry, did I wake you up?"
"No, I was awake."
"I came to give these to Kurt, but I can leave them if he's not here."
Blaine blinked, distractedly. "Sure, I'll see that they get to him."
Hamza felt a twinge of uneasiness. "Get to him? Is he not here?" A sudden, happier thought came to him. Had Kurt somehow been able to go home?
"No...he's with David..."
Hamza nodded. "Of course, Kurt's gone through so many ordeals lately." He looked sharply at Blaine and felt his disgust return full force when Blaine didn't even seem to notice, let alone feel a twinge of his conscience. "I'm sure he's a good confidant for David now."
Blaine still looked distracted. "I'm packing a bag for him, I'll put the books in."
"Packing a bag?" That didn't make sense and Hamza's earlier unease returned as full-force worry.
"Yeah, David...it was such a blow to him, so I felt that-" Blaine paused and swallowed hard as Hamza thought fiercely to himself that this couldn't mean what he thought it might, but why else would Blaine look strained and why else would Kurt need a bag? "I felt that the least I could do was...share Kurt, just for a while."
Hamza dropped the books and had to force his now-free arms behind his back to keep from physically attacking Blaine. His mouth opened but it was suddenly as though he were back in his own past, just after he saw the mortar shell hit and obliterate Hussain's building. It was just the same, too many emotions, too much bursting inside, but nothing able to come through as words. He knew only one thing to do, and turned and ran towards David's dorm to try whatever he could.
As he ran, he found himself praying, invoking Allah's names. Compassionate one, Source of Peace, Guardian, protect him, help him, Forgiver, Provider, Utterly Just, please, help him, don't let him be hurt. He prayed that he'd not find Kurt as he feared he would, numb or broken. David would have been angry and humiliated last night, and Kurt, depersonalized both as the trophy and as a gift from Blaine, was there and available as a target for that anger and humiliation...if Kurt had refused to be used, it could have provoked even worse anger, and if he'd instead yielded, that surrender could have provoked abuse of that power, to avenge the humiliation.
He'd never seen reason to suspect David of cruelty, but even if David hadn't been abusive, if he'd simply been hungry for sex, Kurt would still have endured another ordeal, being given away like an object, what would that have done to him? Pure one, Creator, Loving one, All Powerful, help him.
He raced up the steps of the dorm and stopped at the directory to identify David's room number. Tearing up to the second floor, he oriented himself and forced himself to take several deep breaths and calm himself as much as he could. He had to be steady enough to find a way to help Kurt, and as much as his instincts demanded it, bursting in as an aggressor wouldn't be the best opening. No, he'd have to assess the situation and hope that somehow, someway, he had inherited enough diplomatic or bargaining skills to be of use. At least he'd been able to push the tumult of emotions down enough to be able to speak.
He knocked at the door instead of pounding. After nothing happened, he pressed an ear to the door, hoping that wouldn't be the moment David opened it. Silence inside. He mentally debated the next step and then tried the door handle very gingerly. It was open, which was a surprise. He knocked again and then opened the door just a crack. Not hearing anything, he opened it further, finally opening it enough to stick his head in. The first thing he saw was David, a towel around his waist, drying his hair vigorously with another towel, and looking at him in confusion.
"Uh, come in?" David asked, then raised his fingers to his mouth in a "hush" gesture, jerking his head towards the bed where Kurt lay, just the top of his head showing, sound asleep. Hamza then noticed that the sofa bed was open and felt a tiny surge of hope. Could it mean what he thought it might? "On the other hand, give me a second to get dressed and I'll come out."
Hamza leaned against the wall to wait as patiently as he could. That had been a very awkward moment when he and David were peering at one another in confusion. His thoughts kept returning to the open sofa bed. Perhaps all it meant was that afterward, they hadn't shared a bed, but then David's seeming to have forgotten that Kurt was in the room when Hamza opened the door, would that have happened if he had slept with Kurt? The door opened quietly and David stepped out into the hall.
Hamza couldn't think of anything more diplomatic to say than, "Is Kurt all right?"
David nodded. "He's fine. Just sleeping. So what exactly are you..."
He decided to put it simply. "Blaine told me what he had told Kurt to do. I was afraid for him."
David heaved a long sigh. "To clear up any doubt, no, I did not make him sleep with me." He paused and took another deep breath. "I couldn't do it." Seeming to realize the possible implication, he added, hastily, "No, I mean I could have, that would not have been a problem, but the moment I started, I could tell that he really didn't want it. If he'd been just shy or whatever, that would have been one thing, but it was so obvious he...it would have felt like I was raping the poor guy, so I backed off."
Hamza took a deep breath of relief. "That was, that was incredibly generous of you. Especially after what happened to you."
"Yeah," David breathed. He shrugged with one shoulder. "Maybe that was in the back of my head, that I wasn't going to put somebody else through pain, especially not somebody I like."
"Or maybe you should just take the credit for being a good guy."
"Anybody would have, come on."
Hamza raised an eyebrow. "You really think so? You really think that anybody else who had been treated the way you had and was presented with a sex object, depersonalized as 'the trophy,' wouldn't have come up with some excuse to brush away any moral discomfort and gone right ahead? When according to every single social signal here, you were entirely entitled to take what you wanted? Think about it, David," he urged, and David looked away in clear discomfort. Hamza took another deep breath and mentally asked for help. "David, this has to end now."
Nodding slowly, David said, "I'm going to talk with Blaine today. He meant well, God knows, and I appreciate what it must have taken for him to offer to share Kurt. He's even admitted a few times when we were talking that he knows he's possessive of him, that part of him doesn't like it when Kurt is even talking to somebody else. It was huge for him to make the offer, but he should have made sure Kurt was okay with it, not just assumed he was."
Every word, every syllable counts, and I'm afraid I'm going to fail. Or maybe I have already, if that's what he thinks I meant. And even if this succeeds, how do I know it won't fail when...please, I'm not up to this! Why can't it be somebody who actually knows what they're doing? Hamza surreptitiously wiped the sweat from his palms. "That's...that's not quite what I meant. It all has to end. Blaine has to give him up completely."
David frowned in utter perplexity. "You mean to me? But Kurt doesn't want that."
If that's all that he can see, there's not a chance. Hamza was ready to give up, to shake his head and say, "Of course, you're right, sorry," find a way to back out without further embarrassing himself, further exposing himself and his convictions, and possibly making things worse for Kurt. He didn't know if it was an unexpected quixotic streak, perhaps a sudden rise in his embarrassment tolerance, or the hope that the help would come if he had enough faith to take the risk, but he found what he needed to speak out. "No. I mean that he has to give his freedom back to Kurt. To let him go home."
David stared as though Hamza had suggested that they relocate the school on the moon.
AN: I'm not a Muslim myself, so I just hope that I got the way that Hamza would pray with some of the 99 Names right. I'm fairly sure it is, but if I got it wrong, apologies in advance for a mistake made in lack of knowledge, not in disrespect, and I'd appreciate any corrections.
Reviews are like whiskers on kittens. Except they don't occasionally get shed. And kittens can't use them to tell how narrow a space is. And they don't tickle your hand. But aside from all that, they're virtually identical!