I own nothing. It's sad, really.

"Who is it?"

"Wes."

"Who?"

"One of the Warblers."

Both boys had sat up in the bed but still close enough that their shoulders touched. Dave thought for a moment, he looked at the smaller boy's tear stained face then placed a hand on his forearm.

"Put it on speaker phone."

Dave knew he was gambling on Kurt's being able to tap that cold, icy place he carried in his heart just as he'd been tapping into his own dark and empty place since Thursday night, but he thought it would be worth the risk. They needed all the information they could get right now, if they could do a little damage control of their own that would just be a bonus.

Kurt pressed a button on the phone, "Hello, Wes?"

Dave quickly cupped his hands around Kurt's ear and whispered, "You're sick, you have a stomach flu."

"Good morning Kurt! How are you?"

"I'm a little under the weather Wes, it seems there's a stomach virus going around. How are you doing?"

"I'm sorry to hear it Kurt, hope you feel better soon. I'm fine, just busy getting prepped for finals and all."

"Thanks Wes, I appreciate it. How are the Warblers?"

If Dave hadn't been so proud of Kurt right then he'd have been staring at him like he'd grown two heads. Was this really how those preppy fucks talked all the time? No wonder Blaine went nuts.

"Warblers are… good, as well as can be expected, considering.

Dave whispered again, "Don't ask, let him talk."

There was a long pause, Dave had a feral grin. Sorry bub, we got the high ground now and we're not into polite fucking banter.

"Um, Kurt I actually called to talk with you about Blaine. He…ah, didn't go to class yesterday. When I spoke to him in the afternoon it was apparent he was intoxicated. He said he'd gone to see you Thursday and the two of you had argued."

Wes' voice sounded mildly curious with a note of concern. Dave rolled his eyes extra hard. What a fucking ass.

"Yes, that's right."

"Yes we did argue on Thursday, Wes."

God damn, his boy deserved a fucking Academy Award for this performance.

"Well I was wondering if you could talk to him, maybe patch things up? I'm a bit worried by his behavior."

"He did seem a bit off on Thursday."

"He's upset you're seeing someone else."

Kurt's eyes widened at Dave but he went with it.

"I'm not sure about patching things up, though, I told him I'd been seeing someone else."

"Oh? He didn't mention."

"You'll call, make sure he's okay."

"I have to say, he didn't really take it well. I was planning to give him a call later this morning, just to check in, but if he's really that upset…"

Dave had the predator-smile back; Kurt was playing this dumb-ass like a fucking violin.

"I think it might be good for him to hear from you. Help him get past this, you know.""Be there for him, wuss."

"Try to be there for him Wu- Wes," Kurt shot Dave a glare, "I'm sure he needs a friend right now."

"You gotta go, breakfast."

"Listen Wes, I need to get off the phone, my dad just called me for breakfast," he tried for a pitiful voice, "Maybe I can keep some toast down."

"Oh, hey sure Kurt, take care."

"You too, good luck with finals."

When Kurt got off the phone Dave was so damn happy he didn't know whether to howl like a fucking wolf or do some lunatic dance of joy. I've got you now motherfucker He settled for a double fist pump and a growl. Kurt was still in the cold place though, so his voice came out like a hiss when he turned to look at Dave.

"Would you mind telling me what that was all about?"

"Look, Blaine's already acting like enough of a weirdo that this kid's calling you up about it. His depression over you dumping him for me is going to explain why his drunk ass was wondering around Stephen's Park in the middle of the night."

"Stephen's Park?"

The playground at Stephen's Park is where you two shared your first kiss."

"No it's not!"

"It is now."

"I don't get it David."

Dave was so fucking excited; he knew how this was all going to play out now.

"Here's how it's gonna go down. You'll call him today and make it quick; you don't feel like talking too long. Tomorrow you'll call him back and make plans to meet him on Monday."

Kurt started to shake his head.

"Don't worry, you're gonna cancel - school took a lot out of you, you're not feeling as well as you thought, blah, blah, blah. It'll keep him off balance and give me time to get shit together. You'll promise to meet him Tuesday at Breadstix, but what you won't tell him is that I'll be there with you. As far as anyone else can see we're just two new acquaintances getting to know each other; if we're lucky Blaine will make a scene on his own, but if not we'll help him with that. I'll storm out, you'll leave, he'll come after you, it's just the way that piece of shit is programmed. When you get to the parking lot you'll tell him to follow you to Stephen's Park, when we get there we'll all go out to the playground then I'm going to beat him to death."

Kurt grew still, Dave waited while the silence stretched out. The pale, frail looking boy's voice came out as rough as gravel, "I'm going to help you."

Dave rolled his eyes, "Do you think I'm stupid Kurt? Of course you are."

ooooo

Dave hadn't told Kurt every little detail of the plan, he didn't want to overwhelm him, but he had no doubt that Kurt would be totally satisfied with how this played out. He turned his attention to Blaine. He didn't trust speaker phone whispers this time, Kurt was far too apt to get upset talking to the little douchebag and Blaine might be wily, even if he was hung over. No need to put their scent in the air just yet. Dave asked Kurt for a pen and note pad then actually wrote out a script for him to say to Prep-fuck. Short and sweet. But he still made Kurt put the phone on speaker, just in case.

"Kurt, I'm so glad you called!"

Damn preppy voices, Dave couldn't tell if he was still fucked up or not.

"Why is that, Blaine?"

Dave glared and mouthed to him 'stick to the script'. He tapped the note pad for emphasis.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't angry with me."

"I'm not angry Blaine, I'm just really not feeling well, stomach flu, I'm sorry I don't feel like talking today. I'll call you back tomorrow."

"Can I come see you?" His voice was a mixture of hopeful and desperate.

"I don't feel like having anyone over. Sorry. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Kurt, please! I need you!"

"I'll talk to you tomorrow Blaine."

Dave's heart went out to Kurt. He had to hand it to him; he'd kept it together. If they survived this he didn't have a doubt he'd end up with one of those sidewalk stars in Hollywood someday. Hell, with balls like that he could probably be a fucking gay Navy SEAL. Now he just looked care-worn, exhausted. Dave took their script to the bathroom and flushed it then came back to see to Kurt.

"Listen Kurt, is your dad going to be home the rest of the day?"

"As far as I know."

Dave hated him like this with his zombie-ness{flat affect} He shook his head, he wasn't even sure where the word had come from. Kurt looked ready to drop but Dave pressed on, anxious to get out of here so Kurt could get some sleep.

"Tomorrow?"

"I think so, I'm not sure."

"Okay. I don't want you to be alone at all this weekend, do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"If he goes anywhere, even to the corner for a gallon of milk, you call me, okay?"

"I will."

"Why don't you take a nap? You should try and rest as much as possible; we've got a big day coming up soon."

"Will you come back again tomorrow?"

"Of course I will Kurt, of course."

"David could you… I mean, could I hug you?"

Dave shrugged, "Sure."

"I want to just hug you, don't hug me, okay?"

Hold back the tears, hold back the tears, they won't help him. "Anything you want Kurt."

They both stoop up; Dave kept his arms at his sides while Kurt gave him a brief but very tight hug. He let go and sat on the bed again.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Kurt nodded, "Tomorrow."

Even though it had kind of gone bad there at the end Dave was on cloud nine when he left Kurt's. He was so full of energy he felt like he was high on fucking drugs. It was a beautiful day, eighty-nine degrees. He wondered if Az was doing anything, maybe he wanted to go hang out at the pool or something. Then Dave groaned as he remembered. Shit! Shit! Shit! He had to go home and mow the fucking lawn.