WARNING: Vague reference to suicide.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

He pulls into the parking lot and spots his shadow in the car three down and sends him a little wave. A head ducks in answer and he grins to himself, because they have this silent way of communicating. He never wears his letterman jacket. He carries it over his arm though, and hangs it in his locker. It's almost like a shield, powerful in its own right and it's ridiculous how a bunch of fabric seems to have power over the other students. He doesn't want or need that power anymore, but he still carries it, because he knows he can only push things so far.

He gets out and heads for the building, there's a biting wind today, and he's wearing a thick woolen jumper, not wanting to get cold just because he doesn't want to wear his letterman. He glances back and his shadow is about ten paces behind him; his efforts to engage him in conversation have so far been fruitless. He turns his head back and almost jumps. She's part ninja, it's the only explanation. Honey.

"Hi Dave!"

"Uh, hi…" Still unable to say her name.

"Can I wear this?" She runs a finger coyly over his letterman jacket, where it's slung over his arm and hell no. He knows what it means, a girl wearing your jacket, and there's no way he's sending that message. He starts walking again, briskly.

"Uh, no. Just, no. Sorry." He feels like a jerk, but he doesn't need this right now. He hopes she's not going to start meeting him at his car every day, and he might need to be a bit more forceful about his just friends thing.

"Oh. That's okay," she shrugs good naturedly and tries to link her arm through his as he walks. He resists, pulling his arm tight to his body so she can't worm her hand around and she ends up just resting her hand on his arm, almost skipping beside him to keep up. He can't believe she's trying so hard, is so persistent. It's only Wednesday and she's already trying his patience.

Fortunately he has no classes with her, and he's only just thought that maybe she's not actually a senior. He has no idea and apart from the fact he's meant to be hanging out with her he really doesn't care. When he isn't in training he puts all his effort into his classes, he's quiet, doesn't draw attention to himself, although when the teachers call on him he always knows the answer. When the bell rings to signal the start of lunch he has plans to sit with the drama group, they're always kind of fun and distracting, and he needs that right now.

When he enters the canteen however Honey is waving her arm furiously, so he just does a one-eighty turn and heads in the opposite direction. He doesn't care what anyone thinks. He heads for his truck; he can hide out in there until the lunch period is over. Sure, it's the cowards way out, but the subtle approach is clearly not working. As he gets closer to where he parked he can see his shadow sitting in his car and heads there instead, wondering with the lack of people around he'll be able to get the guy to talk.

He knocks on the window softly, doesn't want to spook him, but has to knock a bit louder because the guy is listening to music, ear buds stuck firmly in his ears. He finally gets his attention and despite his best efforts the guy jumps a little. The window is wound down and he grins, trying to look friendly.

"Hey dude, you eat lunch in your car every day?"

He fully expects a silent nod, but he can see the guy's throat working and he waits. He's gotten three words out of the guy so far, 'Hey' and 'See ya'. And he doesn't know if he can really count 'see ya' as two words.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"You could eat with me you know…"

"Uh. That many people freak me out a bit."

Oh. Oh. Dave hadn't thought beyond the guy being painfully shy, but if the guy doesn't like crowds that kind of makes sense.

"What's your name man, I can't keep calling you Shadow in my head…"

He gets a little huff of amusement.

"Nathan. You're Dave. The other transfer kid."

"The other, oh, you transferred?"

He ends up standing there, hands in his armpits to keep them warm, leaning against the car and talking. He learns that the guy comes from New York but was homeschooled, because of anxiety in large crowds. He's been sent here of all places to live with an Aunt to remove him from the large crowds. The conversation is easy, the guy's a junior, and when he asks if Honey is his girlfriend he shakes his head and answers with a very emphatic no. They're talking about movies when movement in the corner of his eye makes him turn and Dave stiffens when he recognizes the other boy.

Blaine.

He looks terrible. He's clearly been crying, there are dark circles under his eyes and as much as he wants to punch him for what he's done to Kurt he's promised himself that sort of behavior isn't an option any longer. He excuses himself from Nathan and walks over to Blaine, who is studying his truck.

"What do you want?"

"Karofsky…I… Kurt's not talking to me. He hates me."

"I don't blame him. You're a douche."

"So it was you…"

"What? Was me what?"

"That drove us home." Dave shrugs, noncommittal, then nods. He has nothing to lose. "My mom said you were there… that you carried me inside. I… don't remember what happened. What did I do to him? Did I rape him? I just need to know and he isn't talking to me…"

He sounds broken, looks worse and Dave bites his lip. Truthfully he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't think so, only because he's pretty sure Kurt would have demanded a trip to the police station if that had been the case, but he can't be completely certain, because it's Kurt.

"Look, I don't know what you did exactly…but when I found Kurt, he was crying, shaking and had vomited everywhere…" All color drains out of Blaine's face, and Dave wants to hate him. Hate him, because Kurt loved him, trusted him, and he took that love and trust and betrayed it all. He just…can't. He hates what Blaine has done, but he can't look at Blaine and not know how fucked up the guy is right now. Doesn't mean he has to like him though. "I just thought that maybe it was alcohol at first, but then he kind of waved a hand at the car or something and I saw you, lying in the back of the car, on the floor, your dick was hanging out… Something happened, I just don't know anything more than that."

He shrugs again and notices then that Blaine is shaking, his hand curled tight around something and it's making a quiet but persistent rattling sound, one he recognizes from darker times and he takes a mental pause. Eyes closing. Deep breath. When he opens his eyes he jumps forward, hand encircling Blaine's wrist and when he startles, shocked, his hands open and he catches the small bottle. Sleeping pills. Thankfully the bottle still feels full but his stomach is roiling in fear anyway, not for himself but for Kurt.

"Oh for fucks sake…You'd seriously do this to Kurt as well? Make him feel guilty that he's made you feel so bad that you're going to kill yourself? No. No. You don't get to make that call. Come on. I'm taking you home. Again."

"I just thought maybe I could fix a problem caused by drugs…with drugs."

"What are you? An idiot? Seriously? What do you mean anyway? Were you high on Saturday night?" He opens the door to his truck and waits while Blaine buckles in. He's weirdly compliant and he's suddenly worried that maybe Blaine has taken some of the pills after all.

"Sebastian drugged me."

Oh shit. He inhales and exhales slowly, runs his hands through his hair and scrubs his face. This just got way more confusing and complicated and he's just become even more involved.

Fuck.