Chapter 34: Why?

"No!" The word burst out of Kurt, coloured with protest and disbelief. "I just spoke to him Friday night." Kurt turned in his seat, to see the faces of the other Glee kids. "He was okay." Kurt waved a hand negating that last word. "I mean okay considering. He was going to Scandals Saturday night. His mother asked him to go to church with her on Sunday. He was okay." Kurt's eyes were pleading as he turned to Mr. Schue.

"I don't know, Kurt. Principal Higgins announced it to the teachers this morning. All I know is that his father found him in time, and he's in Lima Memorial."

Finn moved to stand behind Kurt, his hand on his step-brother's shoulder. Blaine took Kurt's hand. Mercedes, in the seat beside him, patted his leg, small ineffectual circles. Kurt stood. "Excuse me." No one said anything as he left the room. What could they say?

Santana glared at the floor. "Fuck high school!"

Mr. Schue wasn't supposed to allow profanity in the classroom, but he let it slide because they were all upset, and really, today he agreed with Santana.

Quinn sighed quietly. "Amen, sister."

Kurt sagged against the wall in the girl's washroom. He didn't understand it. Dave had been coping. He wasn't happy but he hadn't seemed suicidal. Had he missed something? He slid down the wall till he was sitting on the floor. His hands weren't steady as he pulled out his phone. His hesitated over the keys. He usually texted his boyfriend but he really needed to hear Nigel's voice right now.

Nigel was editing a paper on his laptop when his phone flashed red. He checked the screen to find a call from Kurt. A call? Nigel grabbed the phone and hurried out of the library.

"Kurt? What's wrong?"

"It's Dave." Kurt almost whispered the next words. "He tried to commit suicide last night."

"Tried?"

"His dad found him in time."

"You okay?"

"No." Kurt took a deep breath. "Yes, of course." Kurt stood and turned the taps on at the sink. He held the phone in one hand and splashed water on his face with the other. He grabbed some paper towels and scrubbed at his face.

"Kurt?"

"I'm going to see Dave. He's a Lima Memorial."

"No. You're not driving like this. Give Finn your keys. I'll pick you up."

Kurt nodded. "Okay." Kurt closed his eyes in relief. "Nigel, thank you." But Nigel had already disconnected.

Nigel tugged Kurt's hand, and brought them to a stop, just outside Dave's hospital room. "You go in alone. He probably doesn't need to see a stranger right now. I'll wait for you here."

Kurt nodded, and pushed the door open. The room was silent, the lights dim. Dave was asleep. Kurt pulled a chair up to the bed, and sat quietly watching his friend. When, exactly, did they become friends? Kurt couldn't remember.

Dave's face twitched, and he tossed his head on the pillow, as if he was having a bad dream. His eyes shot open.

"Hey." Kurt smiled.

"Hey, Kurt." Dave's voice was scratchy, and his throat was bruised.

"How are you?" Kurt cringed at the inanity of the question.

"Not dead." Dave didn't sound happy about that.

"Do you want to be?"

Dave's eyes slipped away from Kurt's. His right hand, the one without the intravenous drip, twisted into the sheets. "Maybe."

Kurt took Dave's hand in his. "Tell me."

Dave gripped Kurt's hand, and words erupted in a free-fall. "I went to Scandals Saturday. I feel okay there, like I belong. I thought, okay, I can do this. Just get through senior year. I can do this." Dave looked at Kurt, and tears clouded his eyes. "Sunday, after the service was over, we talked privately with the minister in his office. He said I had a disease that needed to be cured. He had pamphlets, some place in Utah." Dave wiped his eyes. "My mother just sat there smiling, as if they were talking about sending me off to camp!"

Dave should have been indignant, bitter, furious. But he wasn't. He was wounded, exhausted, defeated. "She hadn't said a word to me in three days, but she talked the whole drive home. She made plans as if I was going on vacation. She went on and on about which clothes I should take, which suitcase would be large enough, what the weather was going to be like. She said it was wonderful that they had places like this. It was expensive but if they could help me than it was worth it."

Dave closed his eyes, seeing his mother behind his eyelids. "She left the pamphlets in my room, and told me to read them over while she got dinner ready. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see a way out. My father found me when he came up to call me for dinner."

Kurt was trying to decide what he could possibly say to make this better for Dave, when the door opened. Dave's father looked wrecked. He smiled when he saw that his son was awake. "I talked to the doctor. They're going to let you come home tomorrow." He stood by the bed and finally seemed to notice that Dave wasn't alone. He made no comment on the fact that his son was holding hands with another boy. He looked at Kurt. "I remember you, Kurt wasn't it?"

Kurt stood, and letting go of Dave's hand, he offered his chair to Dave's father. "Yes, Kurt Hummel."

Mr. Karofsky sat. "The principal's office, with your father, last year." He clearly wondered what Kurt was doing here.

"He's my friend now, dad."

Mr. Karofsky looked at Kurt, and nodded. "Okay."

Kurt looked at Dave. "Call me when you get home tomorrow."

"Yeah, thanks for coming Kurt."

Dave watched Kurt leave, and then very carefully did not look at his father. He didn't know what to say. Both father and son were silent; the hum of the various electronic monitors the only sound in the room.

"Dave, I owe you an apology."

Dave's eyes jumped to his father, startled. He had not expected an apology.

"I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing. Your mother didn't tell me about the 'camp', but I know her church, I wasn't surprised." Mr. Karofsky rubbed his hand over his face. "I guess a part of me hoped that you would go along with it, and we could go back to the way it was before." Mr. Karofsky looked at his son. "I'm sorry, I was a coward. Please forgive me, and come home." He shook his head. "No Utah, you don't have to worry about that, ever. The staff here at the hospital, they told me about a group called PFLAG. I went last night, and I'm taking your mother tonight. I don't know what to do, but I'll learn. I promise." He reached over and awkwardly took his son's hand. "Please forgive me."

"Can you believe that? What kind of mother would do something like that?" Kurt sat in the passenger seat, furious on Dave's behalf.

"A mother who loves her son." Nigel switched lanes as he approached the off ramp.

"What?" Kurt turned to face his boyfriend, the seat belt cutting into his chest. "How can you say that?"

"Kurt, she thinks her son is going to hell, of course, she's going to do anything to prevent that."

Kurt snorted. "No one really believes that!"

"Some people do."

"I don't get it. Mercedes goes to church, she believes in God, but she doesn't think I'm going to hell."

"Everybody interprets God differently."

Kurt stared out the passenger window, not seeing the surrounding cars. He was an atheist. He didn't spend any time worrying about whether God approved of him or not. But, if you were a believer…

Kurt turned, and held out his hand across the gear shift to Nigel. "Well then, we're going to have to work on her interpretation."

Nigel took Kurt's hand, and grinned. "Ah, I love a man with a plan."