AN: I meant to have this up earlier this afternoon, but really a night owl is what I am. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for ALL of the wonderful feedback! You all are completely wonderful. :) Just to touch on a common theme I saw: there will definitely be apologies and things will get figured out on both sides in the near future. :) Here is a chapter that is a bit longer than the recent ones! A new chapter will come by Wednesday at the latest. Any grammar or spelling mistakes are my own.
Warning: There are bullying and homophobic situations in this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Ch 16: Halfway there.
Halfway back to Lima, Kurt's day went from bad to worse. He knew it almost a full minute before it happened, too many years of working with cars and with his dad left him capable of having what some might call foresight. His tire blew and he was stuck in the middle of freaking nowhere with a flat tire. To make things even better (worse) the sky was beginning to darken with the rolling clouds stretching forth to cover up the blue sky. He could hear thunder rolling in the distance like a beating drum and the tell-tale sign of the occasional droplet hitting his windshield signaled him that not even the weather was on his side today.
Ignoring the urge to just keep driving anyway and see if he could make it back (a really really bad idea), he pulled off to the side of the road and put the Navigator in park. He just sat there for a moment, in complete silence as the sound of his engine competed with the tink tink tink of the coming rain against his windshield.
Taking a deep breath he tried to calm himself enough to think rationally, but moments later he lost the fight. Kurt screamed savagely and beat the steering wheel with his fists, and then chocked on a sob. There was no one here to listen to him cry, so he did. He just cried and cried for what seemed like an hour grateful that no one was here to give him scathing or sympathetic looks. When he finally managed to pull himself together he got out of the car to take a look at the flat. The rain was coming down enough now to almost immediately plaster his hair to his forehead and he couldn't bring himself to care. He also didn't care that the light jacket he was wearing was definitely not enough to keep him warm. The tire was well on its way to being completely flat and he could see the nail that had been the cause of his misfortune. He shared a few choice curse words with the open space around him and wiped agitatedly at the mix of rainwater and tears as he tried to think.
He didn't have a spare on him at the moment – he'd left it out after changing his tire the last time he'd had a flat – something his dad would kill him for later. Sinking down to the ground and not giving a damn about the dirt or grime that would soak into his jeans, he just sat there against his car, knees to his chest, head lying crookedly on his arms.
He didn't really know what to do. His mind immediately jumped to Blaine, but he couldn't call Blaine now. Maybe never again. How long did it take for someone to stop being mad over something like this?
And the angrier part of his mind begged the question: what right did Blaine have to say that to him? Absolutely none. He had no clue what Kurt went through every day. Wes either. Wes should have said something to Blaine. They shouldn't have cared so much about stupid glee.
Except he knew that if it had been him, he probably would have been mad too. Right? Rachel would have, for sure. Maybe it was that he would have been mad about the lying more than the glee thing. He bit his lip and wiped at his stinging eyes and pushed these thoughts away. He couldn't deal with this right now.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts while wearily dragging himself off the ground and back into the car. Hesitating only for a moment, he pressed send.
"Hey" he croaked. "I… can you come get me? I'm halfway between Lima and Westerville and I got a flat, and I am just really not okay right now."
By the time the headlights cut through the encompassing gray around him his windows had begun to fog with rain, and he was shivering madly. The rapping on his window startled him for a moment, before he saw the person on the other side of the door. Carole.
He opened the door and threw himself at his stepmother. She caught him around the waist and held him tightly, despite the difficulty this caused for holding the umbrella and saying nothing that they were both getting drenched regardless. Her hand rubbed soothingly up and down his spine as he sobbed miserably into her shoulder.
"Shhh," she hummed into his shoulder. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."
"Dad is going to be really pissed about the stupid tire," he whimpered.
"No, baby," she said gently. "Don't worry about your Dad. He's in Columbus today with Finn for the game. I had Jim from the shop follow me with the tow truck. He'll tow it back to the shop and fix the tire, good as new."
He sucked in a breath and felt his heart thrum vaguely with life from the bottomless pit he'd thought it'd fallen into.
"Let's go home before you catch a cold," she said, unwrapping him from her warm embrace. He nodded numbly and followed her to the car.
All the way home she said nothing, only running the heat on high and turning on an oldies station that was playing jazzy big band songs that lulled him into a half shivering/half dozing state.
When they did make it home, Carole pulled him into the house and told him immediately to go get changed and get into bed. He did so with little thought and shoved himself under the covers with no intention of ever coming out again.
"I brought you some soup and one of my favorite movies," Carole said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and trying to pull the covers away from his face.
He peaked out and gave her a withering smile.
"Thanks," he croaked.
She nodded and set the soup on the side table, and motioned for him to sit up against the wall. She fluffed up the pillows and pushed him back and tucked the blankets around him again.
"Here," she said softly, handing the bowl. "Broccoli cheese- low sodium."
He swallowed thickly and took it from her.
"Thank you," he said again.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, reaching out a hand to smooth down his mussed up hair.
He stared at the yellowish orange color of the cheese mixed in with the tree-like green pieces that stuck out.
"I messed up."
She climbed into the bed and sat beside him, close enough that their thighs were touching.
"How so?" she asked.
"Remember when I went to Dalton to see them a couple weeks ago?"
She nodded.
"I went because Puck was being a jerk and he told me to go spy on the Warblers. Well, I never told them that I was there to spy. I lied. And now they're pissed," he whispered.
Why did you lie?" Carole asked in a knowing voice.
"I just… I don't know. I just didn't want them to be mad that that was the reason I was there."
"Sounds like that's what happened anyway," she commented vaguely, "but is that the only reason you're upset?"
He looked over at her, and the tears began to well up again.
"I…Blaine said some really aw-awful stuff," he whispered. "and all Wes was worried about was how I'd ruined their glee club's chances at sectionals. It was awful, and… I know I should have told them the truth right away, but I just was afraid they wouldn't want to be friends again if they knew."
He left out the whole bullying issue and keeping Blaine's comments vague. He wasn't even close to being in a state rational enough to telling Carole about his daily troubles with bullying and his actual desire to go to Dalton.
"What if," he looked up at her, watery vision blurring her gentle features, "what if they hate me forever? What if they never talk to me again?" he questioned anxiously, feeling all of six years old.
Oh sweetheart," Carole murmured, reaching over to wrap an arm around him. "This is just a little spilt milk. If they're really your friends they'll get over it, and they'll apologize to you for what they did. That's how this is supposed to work."
He lay his head on her shoulder.
"Do you really think they'll get over it?"
"I hope so," she answered honestly.
"Me too," he said closing his eyes and focusing on the slow comforting rhythm of her heartbeat and trying to ground himself.
The week that followed was worse than the one following what they'd deemed club-wide as the Jeeremiah Incident. Kurt felt miserable and anxious all the time, and never in all the years he'd been at McKinley had he ever felt like such a failure. He didn't really participate in Glee club all that much, and that was the most concerning thing, according to Rachel. It didn't matter though. Glee club and solos didn't matter. It didn't matter at all, not when Blaine and Wes weren't speaking to him and thought he was a lying, spying cheater.
So he kept his head down and made his way through the days like he was an observer in his own life. Of course, as always, just like Rachel, the rest of his friends had opinions on the matter as well. And it warmed his heart and made him smile a fractured version of his normal smile, because almost everyone threatened physical harm on the two boys whose names were not to be mentioned.
"Dude, tell me which room they're in and I'll make them wish they'd never even heard of you," Puck said, cracking his knuckles.
Kurt sighed and patted him on the shoulder.
"Please don't. The last time you tried to get revenge on the competition you ended up slashing the tires of all of the members of vocal adrenaline's cars. And plus you just got out of Juvie. Go to class."
Coach Sylvester had left his cheerleading uniform in his locker, as if he hadn't known it was her. He tossed it onto the floor next to his locker and walked over it on his way to class.
Finn was trying very hard to be a supportive brother. He alternated between angry and comforting and it confused him, but damn it all if he wasn't giving it his best. It made Kurt cry, and for once that week they weren't tears of depression.
"I'll get the guys and we'll go down there and we'll like fucking bust their windows or something. Mercedes can help with that, right Mercedes?"
"Hell to the yes!"
"Guys, remember the last time you defaced the cars of an opposing glee club?" he reminded them in a manner much like he had with Puck the day before.
There were deflated sighs and further brainstorming.
"So… what you did was wrong, right? But what they did was wrong too. That doesn't mean it's the end of the world. You can go apologize or something, right? I mean, you shouldn't have to apologize first, but sometime you have to be the bigger man. Mr. Schue taught me that."
Kurt had tried. Really tried. He'd called, left messages. Nada. There'd been a total of four days radio silence s far and he was beginning to go crazy.
"Kurt?" a voice called to him on Thursday from across the hall.
He looked up and saw Mr. Schue waving at him to join him in his office.
He followed quietly and sat down.
"What's up Mr. Schue?"
"Kurt, I've noticed that you've been a little down lately," he started. "Is there something you need to talk about? Is it the bullying again?"
"No," he answered automatically, and then, "well, yes, but no at the same time. I don't know if that makes sense at all but…outside of the bullying I'm having some personal problems. That's all."
The teacher nodded at him as though he understood, and Kurt wondered if he was answering with the socially correct queues or if he really did empathize.
"Well is there anything I can do to help out, in either realm?" he said after a drawn out pause.
Kurt gave him a small, calculating smile.
"Mr. Schue I appreciate your concern. I really do. I just don't think this is something you can help me with."
"Try me."
Kurt bit his lip and then took a deep breath. Why not?
As it turned out, Mr. Schue had really come through for him in a very unexpected way. This week's assignment was: apology.
He was sure that after his recent behavior that everyone knew whom the assignment was for, but that didn't mean it wasn't a useful assignment for everyone. He was pleased to find his fellow Glee-clubbers embracing the assignment with a passion. He had, of course, only one obstacle; and that was what song would he sing? And if he could come up with the right song with the right meaning, could he sing it to his friends?
The hazy cloud of depression that seemed to form a raging storm cloud above his head was only slightly diminished by the time he made it home, and so he was so entirely focused on finding a song and a way to fix things that he walked straight into the house without realizing that there were three very familiar cars parked on the curb. Needless to say, he was shocked to walk into his kitchen to find all six of his glee girls lounging around baking cookies.
It was like entering the twighlight zone.
"Kurt!" Rachel said excitedly as he walked through the door. "Oh, good, there you are. We were beginning to think that you were never coming home."
"Or that you'd made a pit stop in the dumpsters," Santana added with a smirk.
"Santana that's not funny!" Tina said sharply from the where she was peering into the oven at the cookies.
He shot her a look and was glad that his father was not in the room.
"Who let you guys in? Don't you have your own families to smother?"
"Oh Finn did, but he's over at Puck's playing Call of Duty or something, and Burt gave us full permission to be here. He and Carole are at a Buckeye's game," Mercedes informed him.
Well, his friends knew more about the whereabouts of his family than he did. Wonderful.
"Now, Kurt, just because you are being such a Debbie Downer that I actually want to throw myself in front of a bus this week doesn't mean that we have to be," Santana sneered back at him in retaliation for his death glare.
"What Santana is trying to say," Tina quickly interrupted, "is that we think you need a girls night. And as it is Monday, and we have until Thursday to finish our assignments, we thought we'd help you out with yours if you still needed help. Also that we'd veg out and watch some movies."
"But no romantic comedies, we've already decided that it has to be a really freaky slasher flick," Quinn said with a grin as Kurt gave her a horrified look.
"Can I veto the slasher idea?"
"No way," Mercedes said with a triumphant grin. "Being scared out of your wits is a fantastic way to forget about your friend drama."
"Yes, now make me some dinner while I eat these cookies that man-hands made," Santana said.
Kurt and Rachel both shot her their best glares, but despite it all Kurt found himself smiling a smile that wasn't restrained by guilt.
"Alright, alright, but no painting my nails."
The girls grinned and began doing various forms of the happy dance as Kurt began to pull out ingredients for dinner.
It was as they were watching "Scream" and Kurt found that he wasn't at all interested in the movie because it was freaking him out a bit that he tried to make contact with his Dalton friends again.
To: Blaine
-I'm sorry. Really really sorry. :/
To: Wes
-Please give me a chance to make it up to you?
There was no response, and he was again torn between being angry and being tired.
He spent the next half hour alternating between checking his phone, googling "apology songs" and hiding his face in Mercedes' shoulder whenever someone died. Brittany was curled up on his other side, head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, spooning his back. There was a blanket thrown over the three of them, and Santana sat on the floor in front of the couch so that she was close to Brittany should the need arise to comfort her. Tina, Quinn and Rachel sat on the opposite couch, equally snuggled, and munching on the remaining cookies from the earlier batch.
If he weren't so anxious Kurt would probably be having a truly fantastic time, but he did have to admit that he felt better. That was something, at least.
As the girls were getting changed into their PJs before the next movie he snagged Santana and Mercedes.
"Hey, I have an idea that I need your help with."
The next day at school there had still been no answer from Blaine or Wes and so he tried very hard to put it to the back of his mind and focus on his schoolwork and what he was calling Operation Forgiveness. Santana told him that it was a lame name, but he ignored her. There were still some kinks that he needed to work out, like how to get into Dalton and get the equipment set up, but he wasn't concerned just yet. He trusted Santana and her lock picking skills.
Throughout the day he also tried desperately to avoid Karofsky because the boy was trying very hard to catch him between every class and shove him into whatever hard surface happened to be nearby. It was an exhausting feat, because all he wanted to do was be left alone and allowed to enjoy high school for once. But luck was, as always, not in his favor. The older jock had cornered him with his band of idiots after school was out and everyone was leaving. The really unlucky part was that his locker was in one of the more deserted hallways and that Finn's or any of his other friends' were all in other hallways. He was alone; and anyone who was in the hallway took one look at their faces and took off in the other direction.
"Please just leave me alone," he said in a hoarse whisper.
"Aw, looks like he's going to cry," sneered one of the bullies.
"I didn't do anything to you," he hissed back angrily. "Go away."
He should have been expecting the shove, but he wasn't. He stumbled back and smacked into the lockers, hard, before sprawling on the floor and dropping all of the papers and books he'd been holding.
"You walk around this school acting like you're normal and that people should actually like you," Bradley snapped.
He was trying to understand their words, but he was mostly feeling nauseous.
"No one wants you. No one wants to be around your… sickness. You should be normal," Karofsky said to him, looking straight at him and making him shiver from his spot on the ground.
"It's who I am," he said wearily. "I can't be someone I'm not."
He was furious, so furious. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He didn't want to take this laying down anymore? He wanted to take Blaine's advice and stand up for himself. But how could he do that when his tormenters were more than twice his size and often came in packs?
"Well who you are is an abomination and a sin," the boy said, and he moved to kick Kurt.
Kurt closed his eyes tightly and waited for the pain. Only it didn't come. Instead he heard a jerking sound and then a fist smacking flesh.
"What is your problem man?"
He knew that voice. David… but what was he doing at McKinley? He opened his eyes and stared dazedly out at the scene.
Bradley had obviously been on the receiving end of David's fist because he was rubbing his mouth and looking angry. David was standing between him and the bullies, looking tense and the tautness of his shoulder muscles told Kurt that he was angry too.
"Whose this Hummel? Your boyfriend?" Karofsky jeered.
If Kurt weren't so tired he probably would find it funny that this was the second time someone had assumed David was his boyfriend. It was also ironic because as much as the boy claimed to dislike him, he sure defended Kurt a lot.
"What if I was?" David said, in a tone so disgusted that Kurt himself felt ashamed. "Is that what this is about? You're bullying Kurt because he's gay? You know, that is just so wrong, and disappointing. It's people like you that give Ohio a bad name."
Karofsky launched himself at David and Kurt let out a surprised cry of warning. He watched fearfully as the two grappled and shoved each other around the hallway.
"Hey!"
He had never been more relieved to hear Coach Bieste's voice.
She was roaring at the boys like a wild bear, and shoving them back away from David, who had to be held back by someone else. He wasn't sure when other people had joined them in the hallway.
"Kurt! Santana something's wrong with Kurt."
It was Brittany, and she sounded very worried. There was a string of Spanish cursing and more voices joined them. He blinked his eyes rapidly to try and bring them into focus. Sam was there, jaw set, but holding Santana back. Finn was there too, shouting furiously around Bieste at Karofsky and the other boys.
"Kurt," a voice from his left said, as hands shook him gently. "Kurt I need you to look at me."
He swiveled his gaze around and saw David staring at him worriedly.
"Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"
He had to take a moment to think about that one.
"No I didn't hit my head, but I don't feel very good. I think… I think I might throw up."
"Okay, come on, stand up. We're going to take you to the nurse."
"Is he okay?" Finn asked anxiously.
"Does he look okay?" David snapped back as he carefully pulled him up to his feet. "I'm taking him to the nurse. Finn can come along and show me the way, but everyone else needs to back off."
Finn came to his other side and drew him away from David by wrapping an arm around his waist and letting him lean heavily on him.
"Thanks Finn," he whispered.
"No problem champ," he said with a worried smile. "Let's go to the nurse and then I'll take you home."
"I don't think you driving the Navigator will make me feel better," he tried to tease, but the effect was lost slightly as he set his foot down again and a sharp pain shot its way through his nerves and made him whimper.
"Is it your foot?" David asked.
"Yeah," he rasped. "David…thank you."
"It was nothing," the other boy said shortly and Kurt tried not to frown. He felt Finn's hand tighten slightly as they rounded the corner to the nurse's office.
David was leaning up against the wall as the nurse checked him over, and he felt particularly self-conscious. He could hear Finn calling their Dad out in the hall and he winced to think of the shouting that would be coming.
The nurse checked him out as okay, barring a few nasty bruises and a twisted ankle.
David surprised him by questioning the nurse regarding his nausea and the dizziness, and the woman said that it was more than likely due to the trauma and stress he'd gone through and not a concussion, but to keep an eye on it. She'd left them alone as she went into the next room to get some ice for his ankle.
"David…" Kurt started.
"I already told you it was nothing," the boy said bitterly.
Kurt was starting to get annoyed. Like really annoyed. He couldn't understand why this guy who knew nothing about him was so angry with him. He hadn't done anything to him. Well… aside from trying to spy on his glee club and making his best friends angry. But it didn't justify him being such a jerk all the time.
"Why are you even here?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even and not sounding like he was seconds away from angry tears.
David looked over at him and he saw something akin to remorse surface.
"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you- I'm just really pissed off with those guys. Does that happen a lot here, Kurt?"
As usual when he was asked that question, he flicked his eyes down to the ground.
"Too much."
"Pardon me, but where the fuck are your friends? Or the teachers?"
"This is public school. Things don't really work that way here. The teachers care, some of them anyway, but they can't be everywhere. And the ones who don't care make sure to look the other way or not be around. The principal could care less unless someone comes to him directly threatening consequences to the school. It's not right, and it's not okay, but it's the way it is."
"Well that's bullshit!"
"Yeah, it is."
There was a slight awkward silence.
"I came to tell you that I think Blaine and Wes were a little harsh. I know I haven't been very welcoming and that actually I've been a bit pretentious. Wes and Blaine actually sat me down and gave me a good talking to. Which is wholly ironic now considering I think that they themselves need a talking too."
Kurt gave him a surprised look as he trailed off.
"Listen, I get why they're upset. I do, but really? On the scale of important things in life, glee club doesn't even make the top ten. Friendships do. So, I think they were out of line. I think they owe you an apology just as much or maybe more than you do them. I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay. It's been a few days and they've cooled down, but they're pretty miserable and acting like giant babies. As we both know, they're incredibly slow sometimes and require a bit of a shove in the right direction."
Oh yes, Kurt knew this. He felt his heart start to lighten, and he smiled to himself because just maybe his plan might work.
"I'm one step ahead of you, but I could use a little help."
Up Next: A little mash-up can go a long way. With David's help, Kurt makes a visit to Dalton and initiates the steps to getting past this whole situation.