Author's note: So, these chapters are tiny (~1,000 words each), but I'm writing TWB and this page for page now, so it's helping me actually get it out. Also, this is clearly an AU now, splitting off from "The First Time" – I probably should have warned for spoilers huh?

Warning/s: Mention of non-con (i.e. the prologue). Likely to have more mature themes along the lines of depression, suicide, etc. Not in this part, but definitely the story overall.

CHAPTER TWO

Dave's eyes snap open. He can hear his dad fumbling around underneath the stairs, in the deliberate way of someone trying to be quiet he's making a lot of noise. He knows what he's doing. It's his Sunday morning ritual. Not every Sunday, but most of them. His dad is a bird watcher. He'll get in his car and drive out, sometimes as far away as two hours, and then walk until all you can hear is nature. Nothingness. He used to go with him. Hasn't been though for years now, hasn't seen the point. He doesn't like birds. But right now he can't think of a better way to spend his Sunday. He makes a snap decision, swinging his legs out of bed and staggering to the door. Today. It's going to be today.

"Hey dad, where're you going?"

"Oh, David. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, I uh, was kind of thinking I could come with you."

His dad stops rummaging around at that, turning to face him, and he looks pleased. He feels like an A-grade douche, that such a small thing can make his dad look so ridiculously happy, and he feels a little pang of unease that he's probably going to ruin his dad's peaceful Sunday excursion, but he's filled with confidence. Purpose. He wants to tell him.

"Well, I'd love to have you along. You know that."

The car ride is silent, giving him plenty of time to think. His dad doesn't talk a lot, but generally when he does talk he's worth listening to, and the way he keeps shooting the occasional glance at him he knows his dad is waiting for him to talk. Not yet. He needs to sort out some things in his head. Last night has a sense of surreal-ness about it. He'd never expected to see Kurt in Scandals, never been able to imagine him there until he was actually there. He took two openly gay guys home last night. He turns that sentence over in his head a couple of times, and while it's true, it could be construed so differently. And he really wishes the night had ended differently. Especially for Kurt. If he had Kurt's number he'd text him to see how he is, but maybe it's better that he doesn't have a way of contacting Kurt.

He doesn't know exactly what happened last night, but he knows Blaine did something, because Kurt's strong. Kurt's the strongest person he knows, and last night he had been broken. He doesn't like seeing Kurt like that, it reminds him too much of the times he tried to break Kurt himself, and ever since then he's worked hard at making sure that in ten years when he looks back, he will have done nothing he'll be ashamed about. Not anymore. While he wants his dad to be proud of him, he wants to be proud of himself.

His dad pulls into the Van Buren State Park and gets out, wordlessly handing him his own pack with supplies for a short day-walk. He outlines the track he'd planned on taking and Dave nods in understanding. They strike out, and it feels good to be out in the open, to be stretching his legs and suddenly feel all the space around and above him. He's felt so boxed in for so long he feels he can finally move forward. His dad stops often, pausing to peer at birds with his binoculars and pointing them out to him. He still doesn't care about the birds, but the sense of freedom more than makes up for it. It's not a nice day, overcast and the clouds look heavy, but it means they're alone.

"I have to tell you something."

His voice sounds loud and unnatural in the quiet of the park and his dad turns back to face him, keeping quiet but nodding encouragingly. He takes a deep breath, exhaling and lets the words flow out.

"I'm gay."

Silence.

Then his dad moves forward a few steps and a pair of arms circle around him and just hug him tightly. He feels jittery, because he'd expected surprise, or shock, or…something. Anything.

"You've struggled with this."

"Well yeah. Wouldn't you?"

"I don't know. Yes. I would." His dad pauses, considering something. "You didn't worry about my reaction did you?"

"No dad. No. I just…kept kind of hoping I wasn't. Now I've kind of finally accepted that I am."

"Going to the bar helped then?"

"What? How do you…"

"Lima's a small town David. I have a photo of you on my desk. A friend of mine recognized you your first night. They've been keeping an eye on you."

He doesn't know what to say. His dad has known all along. It's embarrassing to be caught out in such a massive lie, to realize his dad probably knew that every time he said he was going to visit Az his dad knew his true destination.

"Thank you for finally telling me the truth. I appreciate it. And I won't ask where you got the fake ID from."

"I…sure. Okay."

"You don't need to lie to me okay? Ever."

"Okay dad."

They lapse back into silence and Dave can't help grinning. Even with the whole lying thing he feels fantastic. He's come out. Sure, it's only is dad, but he's the first person he's said the words to. He's glad it's him. They don't talk much after that, his dad slipping back in to customary silence so as not to scare the birds and he follows along. When they get into the car and his dad gives his shoulder a quick squeeze he feels reassured. He has his dad on his side. One down, one to go. Though when they get home his dad is looking a bit less calm and his heart sinks, immediately worried that this is his fault.

"I'm still your son you know. I haven't changed or anything."

"Oh David. I know that. I just worry. I'm allowed to worry you know. It's a job requirement."

"I…sure. I just wish you didn't have to worry."

"I'll always worry. Always."

"Okay."

"Go finish your homework or play games…it's not your job to worry about me."

"Yeah well, sometimes I can't help it."

His dad rolls his eyes and Dave heads to his room, laughing. He needs a shower, sweaty from the walk despite the cool temperature. He turns on his computer and has a shower while it loads up. It has to be the oldest and slowest machine in all of Lima. When he comes back, still patting his chest dry and tugging on an old pair of sweat pants he loads up his favorite web pages and logs in to his e-mails. With his dad knowing he can probably take off all the passwords he has in place. He opens is e-mail, something he checks almost obsessively, and his hand freezes on the mouse as his eyes are drawn to one name.

Kurt Hummel.