Pairing, Character(s): Kurt, Finn, Puck, Sam, Artie, Matt, Will, Mercedes, Glee Girls, Burt, Carole, OMCs, OFCs, Kurt-Centric. Matt/Kurt
Rating: R
Word Count: 7,000 or so
Spoilers: All of season one, season two up to episode 2.04. Probably AU after that.
Summary: Every year, the football team has annual party where every member of the team participates in a bonding exercise. Usually, it's just a night of drinking and an epic, creative prank. This year, it's something different.
Warnings: Violence, language, adult themes, sex (nothing graphic).
A/N: Okay, so I totally forgot to post the last chapters since I had it over on my Livejournal account. In any event, here's the rest of the story. :) Warning: possible trigger with the Karfosky part.
Part Four
There were drawbacks to being a guest instead of a hostess at a slumber party. For one thing, no one remembered Rachel Berry was a dedicated vegan. Pizza and non-vegan cupcakes were completely unappealing to her, and Tess Jones had no idea what a vegan even was. Mercedes apologized for it and ended up driving her over to the nearest health food store in Columbus. It was a headache for everyone involved, but Rachel wasn't giving up her dietary needs for anyone, not even an eighty year old woman who had marched with Dr. King.
Tina and Britney rolled their eyes at her selectiveness. Mercedes turned out to be a gracious hostess, however, and made sure her guests were comfortable. An entire weekend in Columbus wasn't a rare treat for Rachel, since her fathers had lots of friends and family that lived here, but no one invited her to birthday parties or sleepovers. Mercedes and her Great Aunt were celebrating their birthdays together this year since they happened to share the same birthday. They were sixty-three years apart, but that didn't stop them from being incredibly close.
Rachel thought their relationship was very sweet; it was clear they adored one another. Tess was a fierce, proud woman that welcomed every girl into her home with open arms. Mercedes' father had driven them down from Lima and dropped them off with little fanfare. Their first night in Columbus was uneventful. They flipped through old photo albums, watched movies, and made their way up to the guest bedroom, where they shared secrets and details about their love lives.
It was late, but they were still going strong on unhealthy amounts of soda and tea. Rachel sat atop her oversized sleeping bag, listening to Britney's incoherent story about her summer vacation in the sewers. It was difficult to follow the ditzy blonde's thoughts on the best days, and practically impossible when she was sleep deprived and over caffeinated.
"So I got my dad's magic key to the city and took the treasure hunters in there," Britney said lightly.
"-And we got lost in the sewers, because Rochelle has no sense of direction. We were there forever and then Nick found a way out, but it didn't lead us to the buried treasure, just the old steel factory. It was really dusty in there and Rochelle called their boss from a telephone pole. I didn't know you could call people from the telephone pole—did you guys know that? Mr. Snow came and picked us up in his limo—he bought me some clothes and a new computer and I promised not tell anyone what we found in the sewers the next day."
Rachel blinked at her in confusion, wondering why anyone would want to poke around Lima's sewer system.
"What did you find?" Tina asked, obviously following the story better than anyone else.
"It sounds like this Snow guy bribed you," Mercedes frowned. "That's not right; you shouldn't keep secrets for people you don't know."
"But I know them," Britney protested. "And Connie knows them-she was looking for the buried treasure too. They're nice—except for Mr. Dryer-he's only nice to Nick."
"Wait," Rachel demanded. "Connie Voss? The girl that once kicked Karfosky in the balls?"
Britney nodded. "Yeah—she's my friend. I made out with Greg for her-but I really wanted to kiss her, but we were really spying on his family—we spied on other people too—I wasn't supposed to tell you guys that part. I totally didn't spy on the Thorne's this summer."
"Hold up," Mercedes tugged a large, frilly pink pillow to her chest. "You're telling me that you hung out with Connie Voss, crawled around the sewers with treasure hunters—who bribed you for some reason—and spied on some people this summer. It sounds like you've gotten yourself mixed up in something. I bet they only wanted your help because your father's the mayor."
Journey's Don't Stop Believing' interrupted Britney's thoughtful answer. Rachel crawled over to small purple suitcase. Finn was probably calling to wish her goodnight; he liked wishing her sweat dreams before he turned in. They had only been apart for a few hours, but she already missed him. It was nice to have such a thoughtful boyfriend.
"Finn," She smiled, "I'm glad you called."
Finn sniffled on the other end. Something was wrong; Rachel could feel it in her bones.
"Rachel?" Finn's voice was raw, cracked, and uncharacteristically small.
"What's wrong?"
Cleveland was nothing like Lima. There were good neighborhoods and bad neighborhoods. Matt Rutherford currently lived in a mid-sized three bedroom condo with his Uncle Nathan in a questionable area. It was a far cry from the nice, spacious five bedroom house he had in Lima, but he didn't mind the trade-off. Even though Uncle Nathan was taciturn and somewhat hostile towards Matt, he had never hit him.
For the first time in years, the bruises were fading without being replaced by new ones. There was no need to sleep in his car, the school (when it was cold), or crawl through Kurt's basement window when things got rough at home. Lincoln West High was very different from West McKinley High. There was no Glee Club, the football team actually won games (and cut him the third week), and the cheerleaders weren't the main attraction at games.
The school's population was pretty diverse. Cleveland wasn't exactly a liberal paradise, but it was much more accepting than Lima. There were several openly out gay teens and more minorities than you could shake a stick at. Matt didn't really have any friends at Lincoln yet; he was still trying to deal with being abandoned by his mother after his stepfather had overdosed on cocaine. It hurt like hell, even if she was a barely functioning alcoholic. She never cared about the bruises Matt received from his stepfather, but she always warned him when Stephen was in a sour mood and itching for a fight. Sometimes, she came up to his room and rubbed ointment into his wounds. It wasn't always bad.
Matt drifted between classes and barely spoke at school. Lincoln High was big and everyone already had their cliques and own friends. It didn't really matter, anyways, since Mike and Kurt were the only people he talked to on a regular basis. Mike knew things were bad at home, but he never knew about all of the bruises. Kurt had found out by sheer accident; the soprano had seen them one afternoon when they were in the showers. Matt always showered last to avoid any questions. Kurt did the same once he joined the football team last year, afraid that the other boys would harass him if he attempted to shower with them.
They became fast friends after that rainy afternoon and Matt developed feelings for the smaller teen. Their clandestine relationship had come to a screeching halt when his stepfather died and he moved to Cleveland. Kurt had promised to visit one of these weekends, but his father had a heart attack, putting a hold on any plans they had to actually see one another. Burt was in Florida this weekend, but Matt made Kurt promise to do nothing but rest for a few days.
Matt spent Friday night watching a Brady Bunch marathon and eating a gigantic bag of M&Ms. it wasn't exactly thrilling, but he liked the downtime. Uncle Nathan was playing a gig with his blues bland downtown. It was nice, being able to do something so domestic without fear or worry. There was no need to crawl out his bedroom window or hide in the park because of his stepfather. It was probably bad to admit it, but he was glad the bastard was dead.
The cell phone sitting on top of the dresser rang, interrupting a particularly sappy moment between Jan Brady and the maid, Alice. Matt glanced at the alarm clock on his dresser and frowned. 3.20 am. He rolled off the large king bed and grabbed the phone, surprised at the name flashing across the screen. Finn Hudson. Why was the popular jock calling this late on a Friday night? They were friends, but they weren't close by any means.
"Hello?"
"Matt?" Finn hoarsely whispered. "I—I think you should know what happened tonight, since you and Kurt—well, you know, were together."
Matt would have rolled his eyes at Finn's sudden awkwardness with him, but he heard the underlying concern in his friend's voice.
"Did something happen to Kurt?"
He dreaded the response, remembering the bruises Kurt had shown him last year. The hockey, football, and basketball teams constantly harassed the soprano. They shoved him into lockers, threw slushies, and tossed him into dumpsters. Sometimes, Kurt's tormentors got a little more physical and hit him. Matt knew those ones by name: Thorne, Karfosky, Azimio, Russell and had spent a great deal of his time protecting Kurt from them last year. It wasn't easy, but he stealthily managed to trick Mike and Finn (even though they never realized it) into helping him. School got easier for his friend. He wondered if things had gone back to the way they were before, now that he wasn't around to look out for his friend.
"Yeah," Finn answered grimly, "Kurt's in the hospital."
Matt closed his eyes and just tried to breathe through the sudden pain in his chest. Finn sounded drained and exhausted as he haltingly told Matt what had happened to Kurt a few hours before.
A quiet, relaxing trip to Florida quickly turned into a nightmare. Burt and Carole had an expensive dinner and took a long walk down the beach. The light rain was pleasantly warm. Dark waves broke noisily against the soft, white sand. Their romantic interlude was cut short by Finn's frantic phone call. Kurt's been hurt—he's in the hospital drowned out everything else Carole's son was trying to say. Burt's blood pressure rose, heart pounding against his chest.
They shouldn't have left Lima—not so soon after the heart attack. Between the strict diet regimen and the blatant clinginess, Kurt was driving him insane. Burt needed some time away from the house. Florida wasn't that far from Ohio, but at the moment, he felt like he was on another planet. Kurt was lying in a hospital room after without his father.
Carole was already on the phone with the airline, demanding to be put on the first flight out of Florida. The beachfront hotel loomed in the distance. Burt worried after Kurt as they hurried towards the luxurious resort, feeling guilty for snapping at his son the other night.
Kurt smiled tiredly as he placed the plate in front his father. "It's quinoa, green beans, beets, black beans, tomatoes, honey, and cinnamon." Burt glared at the funny looking round things that resembled rice—he thought that must be the quinoa stuff.
"I passed the stress test," Burt protested, "I think I'd rather have something with a little more flavor."
"This does have flavor, Dad," Kurt glared, "you're just so used to all that processed food. Your taste buds will change their preference, if you give it some time."
"I think I'll have a beer." Burt announced, getting up from the sofa and shuffling over to the fridge. Kurt stood in front of the big refrigerator, refusing to budge.
"I can't believe you're doing this," his voice cracked, "Dad, haven't you heard what the doctors have been telling you? You know what they said—you have got to change your lifestyle."
"You can't expect me to change overnight, Kurt," Burt spat, "I'm a grown man. I'm having a beer."
Kurt defiantly crossed his arms, looking angry and hurt. The kid didn't understand everything he'd been through; the heart attack, the coma, a long, exhausting stay in a hospital, an endless parade of doctors, tests, and brutal physical therapy sessions. Everyone told him what he could and couldn't do. The garage was off limits until further notice. Weston was managing things there for now, though he occasionally called when he had questions. The calls were few and far between. Burt knew the burly mechanic could handle the garage.
"It's been a long month, kid," He stressed, "Quit smothering me! I'm sick of your constant hovering."
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Kurt stepped away from the fridge, bottom lip quivering like he might cry. A part of him wanted to apologize for saying that, but he didn't. Burt retrieved his beer as Kurt disappeared down the stairs.
Things had been tense between them ever since. Burt didn't mean to be short tempered with his son, but it was difficult to control his impulses these days. The emotional imbalance was a side effect of the coma. At least, that's what the doctors said. Fear and regret replaced the anger and frustration he felt towards Kurt. Burt wiped a clammy hand over his face, wishing he was at his son's bedside. It was going to be a long, sleepless night.
The waiting room became chaotic once the faculty and students at McKinley found out what happened. Coach Sylvester, Coach Bestie, and Principal Figgins all trickled into the hospital at different times. Finn Hudson didn't tell them anything, though, because Sheriff Ford had given him strict orders not to say anything to anyone that wasn't immediate family. After a round of heart wrenching phone calls and a brief visit with Kurt, Finn found a deserted lounge area on the second floor and settled onto a soft leather couch.
Daybreak was only an hour away. His mother and Burt were on a six am flight out of the Tampa airport; they'd land in Columbus at nine and drive the rest of the way home. Finn didn't know what to do until they got here. Rachel promised to return to Lima as fast as she could. Mercedes, Tina, and Britney would certainly follow her. Artie had texted throughout the night, informing Finn that he'd be back sometime tomorrow. Mike wasn't answering any texts. Puck was still unconscious. Quinn was home with the flu. Santana's perfect brown feet rested in his lap and her head rested on the other end of the sofa.
I used to bully him too, just like Puck and all the other guys on the sports team. Finn sipped at the coke Santana had brought him, wondering what Burt would think if he knew he had thrown pee balloons at Kurt and helped Puck nail the lawn furniture to their roof. Then there were times he had watched Puck shove Kurt against the lockers and throw him into a dumpster. Why did he like me so much last year? Finn didn't understand Kurt's crush now that he was thinking about it. It's not like he ever stopped any of those guys from doing all that stuff to him.
His cell buzzed inside his pocket, alerting him to a new text message. Finn was grateful for the distraction. Where r u? It was from Matt. Finn shifted uncomfortably. The idea of Matt and Kurt together kind of freaked him out. I used to shower with that guy. How many times had Matt checked him out in the showers, or stared at his ass when they played video games together? Finn quickly typed out: At the hospital. I know that, Matt replied, I don't see you downstairs in the waiting room. You're here?
Finn gently removed Santana's feet from his lap and stood up, letting the other boy know he was upstairs. I'll be down in a second. Finn felt awkward and unsettled as he left the lounge. Matt should have told me he was gay!
Part Five
The hospital grew quiet again once Matt and Finn left the waiting room. They walked down the long, winding hallway towards room 117. Finn kept staring at him. Matt didn't know what to think about that, but he didn't really care at the moment. A petite nurse was leaving Kurt's room, who took in their ragged appearance. Finn wasn't crying anymore, but his eyes were still bloodshot and he was wearing a baggy t-shirt that had some Spanish words on it. Matt had cried during the entire drive. The tears had only subsided once he finally made into Lima city limits.
A hospital security officer stood outside Kurt's room. This isn't happening. Matt gave the nurse a grim smile, hoping she wouldn't kick them out. I need to see him and hold his hand, make sure he feels safe again.
"Due to the events surrounding Mr. Hummel's injuries," the nurse began, "we have placed strict security policy on any visitors. You must get approval from the patient or immediate family to visit."
"It's all right, Leanne," Mr. Schuester leaned tiredly against the doorway, smiling warmly at his students. "Finn's practically family and Matt here is good friends with Kurt."
Matt audibly sighed when Leanne stepped aside and let them pass, grateful that his former teacher understood.
"It's good to see you again, Matt." Mr. Schuester smiled again, squeezing his shoulder. "Kurt asked for you earlier."
Matt didn't hear a word the man said; he was too focused on the pale, injured boy lying in the bed. The thick gauze wrapped around Kurt's head caught his attention first, and then Matt saw the casts on his ankle and one on his wrist. Bruises marred his friend's face. Gripping Kurt's good hand, Matt brushed it against his lips. Tears trickled down his cheeks. Kurt looked broken and small. Finn openly gaped at the tender gesture, but Mr. Schuester saved them from any awkward and (possibly) angry conversations.
"Finn, why don't we go see if we can find a fresh pot of coffee?" Mr. Schuester yanked Finn towards the hallway. "And maybe some breakfast. I bet the cafeteria is opening soon."
As they disappeared around the corner, Matt kept a firm grip on Kurt's hand and plopped down into the armchair Mr. Schuester had just occupied. An oxygen tube snaked around Kurt's head, letting him breathe easier. He could have died tonight. Matt didn't think he could handle losing Kurt—the boy that had stolen his heart last year.
Snow whirled furiously to the ground. Strong, frigid wind gusts nipped at Matt's skin. It was well below freezing. No person in their right mind ventured outside into the middle of a Midwestern blizzard. Most people stocked up on supplies, hunkered down with their pets and sweaters, and rode out the storm until it passed. School was already canceled for tomorrow. Every student in Lima was probably thanking whatever deity they believed in and celebrating an unexpected day off.
Matt wasn't so lucky. The storm made it impossible for Jake Rieff to leave town on an important business trip-which made life at home hell. Jake lasted two days before he needed a high: the drugs made him irritable and he ended up punching Matt in the kidneys. It had hurt like a bitch. Once he recovered enough to walk again, he high tailed it out the front door and climbed into his Honda Civic. It was way too cold to sleep in the car. The school was a possibility, but he'd rather not spend the next day sleeping in the choir room. There was a good chance Mike would entertain him all day, but spending the night there was risky. Mike's parents would ask too many questions since he stayed over there all the time anyways. They were starting to get suspicious. Kurt was a better choice tonight, even if Finn was there. Matt knew Finn was having a hard time adjusting to life at the Hummel residence, but it would be easy enough to fool Finn.
The lights were still on in the basement. Matt crouched down next to the window and peered inside, looking for Finn. The tall teen was nowhere in sight. The soft, colorful decorations were strewn haphazardly around the floor. Matt lightly tapped the window, knowing something had gone wrong. Maybe they had another fight. It was too bad. He'd thought the room looked warm and inviting—but he liked soft tones and the feel of silk between his fingers. In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to let Kurt talk him into skipping school so they could decorate. It was creative and fun, but he figured a guy like Finn would never appreciate fine décor. None of the football players had ever commented on the elaborate decorations in Matt's room, not even Finn.
Kurt suddenly appeared, peering up at the window. Matt saw his red rimmed eyes and messy hair, frowning at his unkempt state. Kurt was the cleanest and neatest boy he'd ever met. The smaller boy opened the window and removed the screen. Matt climbed through the window.
"Thanks," he smiled, "What's wrong?"
Kurt replaced the screen and closed the window, sniffling at the question.
"Finn didn't like our decorations."
"Where is Finn?" Matt sat down on the silver couch in the middle of the large room and motioned for Kurt to sit beside him.
"My dad kicked him out," Kurt stepped over a discarded tapestry and joined him on the sofa. "For calling me a-a—f-fag."
Tears leaked out of his eyes. Christ. Matt knew Kurt had feelings for Finn. It was a given that Finn would never reciprocate those feelings for Kurt, but he had no right to call him ugly names. Rage flared in his veins. Matt was tempted to march right over to Hudson's house in the middle of a blizzard and punch the living daylights out of him. No one should half to hear awful slurs thrown at them, regardless of their race or sexual orientation.
"I know he'll never like me back," Kurt cried, "I told him I had accepted that—but he didn't believe me."
"Kurt."
Matt locked eyes with the other boy. The rage simmered down, replaced by love and sorrow. Overwhelmed with emotion, Matt leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kurt's. He gasped in surprise, but he didn't push him away. His lips tasted like salt and chocolate flavored lip gloss. After a brief moment, Kurt started kissing him back.
The memory brought a paper thin smile to Matt's lips. Their first kiss had been something special. Matt kissed Kurt's hand again.
"Kurt," he whispered to the sleeping boy, "I think I might love you."
Reporters and camera crews had congregated outside the hospital from every major network in Ohio. There were journalists from CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, PBS, and NPR. The media wasn't allowed to use Kurt Hummel's name since he was a minor, but once they learned a professional football player was involved in his brutal beating, they flocked to Lima like flies. It was all over the news.
Gay teen beaten by drunken NFL star Derek Thorne. West McKinley High School football team brutally beats gay teen, cheered on by Dallas Cowboy quarterback Derek Thorne. Derek Thorne arrested for assaulting gay teen in his hometown. Lima, Ohio suddenly has a terrifying resemblance to Laramie, Wyoming: gay teen kidnapped and assaulted by an entire football team. Promiscuous gay teen provokes NFL player Derek Throne into physical violence. We have an eye witness that claims the teen sexually harassed Mr. Thorne. Was Derek Thorne justified in his actions? How would you react to this situation?
Finn Hudson stared at the televisions in the cafeteria, horrified at the headline on Fox News. Picking up a chair, he threw it with all his might at the offensive sentence. The television flickered off as the chair flew into it. Glass shattered, spreading across the floor in smithereens. Everyone in the room stopped talking, turning their heads so they could stare at him.
"He's my brother!" Finn shouted, glaring at them, "They can't say those things about him! He didn't do anything to deserve this!"
Mr. Schuester abandoned their table, placing his hands on Finn's shoulders. "It's all right, Finn. I think you need to calm down."
An older, balding man wearing a white doctor's coat slowly approached them. "My name is Walter Padilla," he glanced at the glass on the floor, "I'm in charge of this hospital. You have to leave the property. I also expect you to replace that television."
"That won't be necessary." Sue Sylvester abruptly interrupted. The cheerleading coach held a cup of coffee and a water bottle in her hand. She scowled at Doctor Padilla. "You see, Mr. Hudson is just expressing his feelings, which I think is completely healthy in this situation. After all, no one likes liars."
"Aren't you the woman from Sue Sees It?" Doctor Padilla asked, exasperated. "I don't know what you're doing here, but this is none of your concern. I want this boy out of my building. Now. I'll press charges if necessary."
Finn took a step backwards when he saw the look on Coach Sylvester's face. She looked furious. Things never ended well when Coach was pissed.
"Not so face, Homer," She glared, "I think everyone's too focused on what happened to one of my students last night. I bet our ratings would double if we played that little tape of you watching your wife screw a certain pool boy-one that's a minor, no less."
Doctor Padilla's face paled. "H-how do you know about that?"
"I've got cameras everywhere," Sue deadpanned, "But you don't have to worry about that, since you're being such a great host."
Finn stared at her in muted shock, wondering how she could possibly know something like that. Maybe she did really have the entire town bugged. Mr. Schuester just raised his eyebrows at his colleague, clearly unsurprised by the strange turn of events.
"You can stay as long as you like," The doctor glared, "The hospital will replace the television."
He hurried off, ignoring the curious stares from the people in the cafeteria. No one had heard their conversation, but they could tell something had rattled the older gentleman. Finn smiled tentatively at Coach Sylvester, grateful he was on her good side.
Sunlight streamed through the window and warmed Kurt Hummel's face. A clear, cloudless blue sky eased some of the fear and pain lurking under the drug induced haze. Kurt felt large fingers entwined with his own. Dad. Relief flooded him. While he was grateful for Mr. Schuester's presence during the night, no one made him feel safer than his father. Kurt opened his eyes, surprised when he saw dark skin instead of white.
"Morning," Matt smiled, "Want some ice chips? The doctor said it was okay."
Kurt blinked at the unexpected visitor, upset his father wasn't there yet. Then he processed Matt's question, suddenly aware of his aching and dry throat. The Black teen pressed a Dixie cup against his lips. Kurt spooned the ice onto his tongue, sighing with happiness as the cool cubes slid down his esophagus. Matt kissed him on the cheek when he was done, settling back into the recliner.
Deep bone-jarring pain nagged at the edges of Kurt's mind. The cast on his ankle itched and his ribs ached with every shallow breath. The bandage wrapped around his head felt awkward and uncomfortable. Even his lips ached from Dave Karfosky's unwanted kisses.
They jumped him in the parking lot of Home Depot and shoved him into an ugly, ancient brown van. Kurt had fought them with everything he had, but it was three against one. Greg Thorne, Richard Azimio, and Dave Karfosky. Eventually, they got tired holding him down and Greg hit him in the head with a two-by-four. The sun had set by the time he woke up—tied up on a twin bed in someone's basement. His head ached terribly. It felt like someone was pounding a nail into his skull, fear and panic blending with the pain.
"Want some water?" The voice startled Kurt and his stomach churned dangerously. He nodded anyway, recognizing Dave Karfosky's Midwestern drawl. The chubby jock shoved the water bottle towards his mouth. Kurt downed half the bottle without taking a break. There was no telling how long he'd been down here, or what they were planning to do with him. It couldn't be anything good. Karfosky took the bottle away and stared at him with dark, unreadable eyes. Kurt shrieked in horror when the hockey player leaned forward and kissed him.
"Don't worry," Dave reassured him, "I won't let them kill you. Greg was up for that-but I know Rick's not. They just want to scare you-beat you up a little. I'm gonna make sure that the whole teams there-including Abrams. I'm sure they won't let anyone hurt you too badly."
Kurt sobbed, unsure how to handle that information—or the fact that Karfosky was kissing him again. The bigger teen's hands pushed his shirt up, rubbing his fingers over Kurt's nipples. This wasn't happening. He couldn't handle the unwanted advances. It made him sick. Kurt's stomach churned, and he promptly threw up all over Karfosky's shirt.
"God Damn it!" The jock made a disgusted face and instantly shot off the bed. "That's fucking disgusting." Karfosky darted up the stairs, swearing at the smell.
Kurt flinched at the memory and wished for another sedative. No one had come down again until Greg's older brother arrived. The gigantic football player had been incredibly pleased when he found out what Greg had in store that night. Derek had crushed the bones in Kurt's ankle when tried to run away as they hauled him into the barn. Only a powerful sedative could keep the memories at bay.
"What's wrong?" Matt asked with a slight hint of panic in his voice. "Do you need me to get a nurse?"
"Yes," Kurt muttered, gripping Matt's hand, "It hurts."
Matt pushed a button on the bed, alerting the front desk that their patient needed them.
Santana Lopez's father was a surgeon at St. Rita's. They had gone to see the symphony in Columbus when his phone rang in the middle of the performance. Enrique ended the call in a few minutes and announced they were driving back to Lima. Our mechanic's son has been hurt. Kurt Hummel. Don't you go to school with him? She didn't hear any of the details until she found Finn crying in the waiting room.
Saturday mornings were meant for sleeping in and pigging out on mouth-watering huevos rancheros. She wasn't supposed to be at the hospital with her father, staring at an unconscious Noah Puckerman. He had a massive bandage around his head and a heart monitor beeped monotonously beside the bed. Elevated intracranial pressure. Coma. Brain damage likely. The words ran around Santana's head on an endless loop. Puck was so still and lifeless; he looked nothing like the boy she had dated and slept with on and off since freshman year. She thought it was incredibly ironic that Puck was in a coma because of Kurt fucking Hummel. It was fucking hilarious. Karma's a bitch. She didn't want to be here anymore. Brittany was on her way back to Lima, but she couldn't get here fast enough. Santana needed her right fucking now.
A line of reporters stood outside St. Rita's Hospital. Burt Hummel shot them a furious glare as he hurried past. Carole clutched his hand and quietly reminded him not to overdo it with the stress—but it was damn near impossible with a kid like Kurt. The flight had been hell. A two hour plane ride had felt like a lifetime. And I cannot believe the media mecca, they're only trying to peddle reality, catch it on prime time, story at nine, the whole world's going insane. Burt grunted, realizing that punk band his head mechanic constantly listened to actually had a point. He heard that damned song at least once a week and always complained to Weston that shit depressed him. That's the thing about punk music-real punk music—they tell it like it really is. Plus, Greg Graffin is a genius. Burt shook his head as he recalled the conversation, hating the fact that those so called journalists standing outside were making a buck off his son. The blatant exploitation made him sick.
The head nurse greeted them at the front desk and gave an updated report on Kurt's condition. Burt felt a little relieved when she led them to his son's room. As long as Kurt continued to do well without any further complications, they would move him out of isolation and onto a more secluded floor. The sight of the security guard standing outside Kurt's door made Burt see red. Damn those assholes-hurting my son like that. I want to kill them. I still might. Then he heard it: singing.
A familiar baritone accompanied a well-polished, higher tenor, followed by a deep alto voice. Burt instantly recognized Finn's voice in the mixture. The song was one of his favorites; Kurt loved it just as much as his old man did. There are stars in a Southern sky, Southward as you go, there is moonlight and moss in the trees, Down the Seven Bridges Road. The harmonizing was beautiful. Burt was crying by the time he entered the room, touched that Finn, Schuester, and Matt were singing to his boy while he dozed.
Part Six
"It seems there's a lot more to Quarterback Derek Thorne than meets the eye," Anderson Cooper intoned thoughtfully, "It seems the Thorne family has deep connections with the Ku Klux Klan-except the white supremacist group they belong to splintered off the KKK nearly ninety years ago. What could be more shocking than Derek Thorne's brutal beating of a gay teenager in Lima, Ohio? The gravesite discovered in Lima's long abandoned aluminum plant. There's documented evidence that the Thorne family has been murdering minorities for decades. Join us for an in-depth investigation into the Thorne's disturbing heritage and the hidden racism lurking under Lima's small town charm."
"Why are you watching this?" Matt grimaced as he stepped into the room.
"It makes me feel better," Kurt answered, eyeing the Tupperware in his friend's hands. "I like knowing what's going on in world-more importantly; I like the fact that the news has forgotten me, thanks to the Voss's."
Kurt meant that. It was easier dealing with the attack when it wasn't plastered all the news. The reporters had moved onto the investigation into the Thorne family and the bodies buried all over the aluminum plant. They were also obsessed with trailing every minority they could find in Lima and asking them about their feelings on discrimination and racism in small towns. The national media attention put everyone on edge; easily breaking apart the paper thin civility that existed before hand.
It made Lima more exhausting than usual. Kurt wasn't going back to McKinley; he didn't object. You can just go to an online high school, if you have to. Burt was pretty adamant about it. During a particularly incoherent moment a few days ago, Kurt had accidentally revealed some of the things he'd been through at McKinley, and named names. It was probably a good thing that Puck was in a coma-he was fairly certain Burt would have hunted him down with a flamethrower if he wasn't. At the moment, Burt wasn't even speaking to Finn, despite Kurt's protests.
Finn visited when Burt was gone, begging him to get ask his dad for forgiveness. Kurt tried—he really did—but Burt was furious. Carole was just as mad, upset that her son had participated in bullying. I raised him better than that, she informed Kurt during a long visit. It had been an incredibly bizarre conversation, and a draining one at that. The last six days were the most tiring in his life, but it helped having friends and family close by.
Matt had been there through everything, missing an entire week of school so he could stay by his side. The other glee club members had all been to visit multiple times, bringing various gifts. Rachel brought three dozen vegan cookies and stuffed animals from her closet, insisting they were excellent sleeping companions. Mercedes brought an armload of fashion magazines, Quinn brought plants, Brittany and Santana brought Becky, and Tina gave him a Taser. Artie came every day and loaned Kurt his beloved Wii and video games to go with it. Mike brought obnoxious techno CDs and danced around the room to cheer him up.
Sam stopped by less frequently than everyone else and brought his big black Labrador retriever along for "petting therapy," as he put it, and they usually ended up not talking and playing Artie's video games. It was very strange, but Kurt didn't mind. Not having to talk about anything for a while was kind of nice. Finn stuck to his side like glue and hovered with Matt when Burt wasn't around. Kurt thought it was sort of endearing and appreciated his almost-stepbrother's genuine affection.
The doctors were finally releasing him tomorrow. The pain wasn't completely gone yet, but it was much more tolerable than before. The anti-anxiety medications and daily therapy sessions made it easier to handle the fear and tension that constantly nagged him. Kurt couldn't wait to go home and sleep in his bed. More importantly, Kurt really needed the calming, soothing nightly moisturizing routine. Acne was starting to develop on the bottom of his chin.
Watching Kurt slowly heal was a little surreal when Puck was lying comatose two floors up, because he definitely wasn't healing. Finn sat beside Puck's bed and watched a machine breathed for his friend. Apparently, not waking up for six days was really bad. Santana and Quinn had gone over the proper medical terms with Finn, but he got lost after brain damage. The doctors said Puck wasn't going to wake up, ever. Various members of Puck's family visited regularly. Mrs. Puckerman refused to let the doctors shut those machines off, insisting her son would wake up one day.
Somehow, the flowers and plants cluttered around Puck's room seemed less cheerful than the ones in Kurt's. Finn alternated his time between the two rooms. Santana, Brittany, and Quinn visited nearly every day. Mike and Sam made frequent trips upstairs to visit after they spent time with Kurt downstairs. Artie was the only one that never came upstairs, claiming he didn't want to remember Puck like that. I want to remember him throwing slushies at me. Finn understood: it was hard seeing the egotistical crooner so still and lifeless.
Someone had placed a radio near Puck's head and put his Ipod on a continuous loop, hoping he could hear his favorite songs while he slept. An upbeat guitar riff and drums started playing, making Finn jump in his seat.
It was a cloudy night, or so it looked to me,
I felt so lost, I couldn't say why.
I needed strength to change my mind
but those ghosts stick to me like glue, hating life,
believing I was no good
It was a darkness all my own
a song played on the radio,
but it went straight to my heart
I carried it with me
until the darkness was gone...
It was a cloudy night,
or so it looked to me,
I felt so lost,
I couldn't say why
I built this cloud to live in,
It was a bunch of lies in my mind.
the world wants me to believe it
so I had to change my mind.
It was a darkness all my own
a song played on the radio,
but it went straight to my heart
I carried it with me
until the darkness was gone...
I built this cloud I can break it
The world can't change how I feel
Because I know it's a lie
My heart is real
Finn had tears in his eyes when the song ended. Music had gotten him through hard times before. The last week was no exception-and it had been the hardest week of his life. Burt wasn't speaking to him and his mom barely said anything at all. Somehow, Rachel had become his rock. She was there for him in ways Quinn never had been. He was incredibly lucky to have her in his life. Getting through the last week would have been impossible without her.
"I brought you a chicken sandwich," Matt walked into the room, holding out a paper plate, "I figured you're probably ready for dinner by now."
"Thanks," Finn grabbed the sandwich and tore into it, "Who's downstairs with Kurt?"
"Artie," Matt said with a mouth full of food, "They're trying to make it to the next level of Halo before Kurt nods off for the night."
"They've been on level two since Wednesday," Finn laughed, "Kurt sleeps a lot."
"Yeah." Matt smiled, a wistful look on his face.
Finn fiddled with his sandwich, wondering how he could have missed the budding romance between Kurt and Matt last year. Now that he thought about it, he should have noticed how friendly Matt was towards the soprano.
"I'm happy that you two are close," Finn said sincerely, "I wish that I would have helped Kurt more at school-like you did after he started tutoring you. Burt probably wouldn't be so pissed at me if I had."
Matt frowned. "After who tutored me?"
"Kurt," Finn answered, "Artie said he was tutoring you last year."
"Finn," Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, "Every class I take is an AP course-and I take college courses. I've never needed a tutor."
"Then why did Kurt tell that to Artie?"
"Probably to stop anyone from asking questions," Matt sighed, "We started hanging out once he joined the football team. Kurt probably lied so no one would start any rumors about me."
"He was protecting you," Finn surmised, "Just like you tried to protect him."
"I did my best," Matt admitted, "but I couldn't always be there."
"You did more than anyone else," Finn said somberly, "I didn't really like doing all those things to Kurt-but everyone else seemed to like it."
"And you wanted them to like you," Matt remarked sourly, "I remember hearing about the things you guys did to him."
"You never participated," Finn realized, "Or called him names-you even talked Puck out of vandalizing Burt's garage one year when we were drunk."
"I don't like bullies," Matt muttered, "I don't think anyone really knew how hard it was for Kurt at McKinley. When I found out-I was pretty upset. No one should have to suffer what they are—who they are."
"No, they shouldn't," Finn agreed, "I wish Kurt was going back to McKinley—that way I could prove to him that I don't care what anyone else thinks—except my friends—at least, not anymore. I'd stand up for him."
"There's still something you can do to show him that you understand how bad it is to let homophobia—hate—just slide."
Finn stared at Matt, hoping he had the solution to his problems with Burt and Kurt. "What?"
"When you do go back to school, you can stop someone else from being picked on-it doesn't have to be someone like Kurt. There are lots of other students that are bullied at McKinley."
"That sounds like a good idea," Finn said, "Maybe if I do that, Burt will start talking to me again."
"I'm sure he will," Matt answered, "I know your heart's in the right place, Finn. It'll just take some time."
Will Schuester eyed Rochelle's long, sexy legs as she set two boxes on the floor. Every chair in the choir room was full. Rachel, Finn, Mike, Artie, Tina, Quinn, Santana, and Brittney all sat together in the front of the classroom. Fifteen other students had recently joined the Glee Club after Kurt's public beating in a rare display of compassion and understanding. There were a few football players, some more Cheerios, Jacob Ben Israel, Lauren, Connie Voss, and Brett. The new additions had some interesting talents. Connie was a skilled break dancer, Lauren knew everything about sound boards and acoustics, and Brett was surprisingly good at beat boxing.
Brittney had arrived exactly five minutes ago, hauling in boxes with Rochelle and some guy named Nick. Apparently, the blond cheerleader had helped them during their investigation into the Thorne's sordid family history and earned the Glee Club some new sponsors in return. They would never have to worry about paying for costumes or transportation costs again. The three were handing out some flashy costumes for the group.
Things at McKinley were changing. The school board had gotten extremely upset at all of the bad press the school was getting. They fired Figgins and put Sue in charge, knowing the tough cheerleading coach would handle bullies and unruly students much better than the former principal. Sue disqualified the football team from playing the rest of the season and created inventive, strict anti-bullying measures. She fired half the faculty and replaced them just as quickly.
Will was surprised she kept him on, but the stern woman had just looked at him and said, your students convinced me. It touched him, knowing his kids had wanted him to stay. Will smiled at Rochelle and Nick, happy that things were turning around for McKinley. The sad thing was; it took a boy being beaten by a celebrity for anyone to care.
FINIS