Fic: When You Hold A Flame (Vol 3: Track 1)
Series: When You Hold A Flame
Title: She’s Not There
Author: dawncrow
Pairing,Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Azimio Adams, Finn Hudson, Paul Karofsky, Nick Olson (OC-ish)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Ficmix
Word Count: 3,691
Spoilers: Through 2x11.
Warnings: Lots of swearing and homophobic language
Previous Chapters: HERE
A/N: I can’t believe I thought I could do this episode in one chapter. What the hell was I thinking? I’m splitting in it half and it’s still really freaking long.
Summary: On the day he got back from his suspension, the harsher-than-usual looks Dave got from all the Gleeks told him that something was definitely wrong.
But it's too late to say you're sorry.
How would I know? Why should I care?
Please don't bother tryin' to find her,
She's not there…
News that his expulsion had been reversed came on Monday, and it was probably the most welcome thing that Dave had heard in weeks. He wouldn’t have to graduate late, or get shipped off to some school for delinquents or worse, go to Temple. He wouldn’t have to miss the rest of football, or the hockey season. He would be able to go back the next day, having already served the suspension that the school board deemed was appropriate for his offense. He could go back, and he could apologize to Kurt and this whole thing could be over. Well, no, it wouldn’t be over, he had come to accept that much. It would probably never be over. But at least maybe he could start to make things better.
But when he got back to McKinley and took his normal route in past Hummel’s locker, he didn’t see Hummel there, and his lock was gone. And the harsher-than-usual looks he got from all the Gleeks told him that something was definitely wrong. As he was getting his book out of his locker for pre-calc, though, he felt a hand slap him heavily on the back, and turned to see Azimio, all smiles and holding two green apple slushies.
“Welcome back and congratulations, my friend, you did it!” he said, holding out one slushie towards him, which Dave took reflexively.
“Did what?” he asked, and Az raised an eyebrow, his smile growing.
“You haven’t heard? Thanks to you, William McKinley High School is now a fag-free zone!” Dave’s jaw fell slowly open as Azimio raised his slushie cup and clearly waited for him to say something. When Dave didn’t respond except to furrow his eyebrows in confusion, Az shook his head, and laughed as he explained. “The homo transferred when he heard you weren’t gonna be expelled anymore. Went to some fancypants private school down in Columbus someplace. So? Eh?” He grinned, and gestured with the slushie cup again, and finally Dave snapped out of it long enough to bump his own cup against Azimio’s and paste a grin on his face. Looking satisfied, Az slapped his shoulder again and headed off down the hall, and Dave just stared in disbelief before looking down at the slushie in his hand.
He hadn’t meant for this to happen. Kurt wasn’t supposed to leave. Kurt was the strong one, the brave one. If he’d scared that out of him…if he’d turned perfect, courageous, amazing Kurt into a scared little boy like him…god, he was even more of a fuckup than he’d thought. The halls started to thin out, and as the last few students filtered into their classes, Dave let the anger well through him as he threw the slushie hard against the wall above the trash can and watched the sticky green liquid drip down to the floor.
He shouldn’t be so goddamn upset about this. Fancy was gone. If he knew what was best for him, he’d consider that a good thing.
But Dave Karofsky was never very good at doing what was best for him.
***
He tried to shrug it off, to let things go back to normal, cause he figured if Kurt had transferred to an expensive private school to avoid him, he probably didn’t want Dave calling him up or anything. He picked up again with the slushies, and threw himself harder into football. The team was doing really well this year under the Beast, and they were looking good to make the championship game, which was just unbelievable. Maybe it was for the best, right? Maybe now that Kurt was gone he would stop thinking about him all the time, maybe he’d start noticing girls, maybe he’d be able to be normal after all. But underneath it all, he knew it wasn’t true. He’d told himself that same shit a million times and it hadn’t worked, why the hell should it work now? They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and Dave had always thought that was just stupid sentimental bullshit, but he found his heart sinking every time he turned the corner by Hummel’s locker and he wasn’t there.
Christmas break came, and being away from McKinley didn’t help like he’d hoped it would. His family came into town, and his grandfather got to complaining about the fag couple that had moved in down the street from them, and how sick it was, how they had a house together and a dog and they even wore wedding rings, it was such a disgrace, and then even the pastor somehow managed to work a line about the sinful homosexuals of today’s secular society into the fucking Christmas Eve service. And then on Christmas after dinner Aunt Lauren started asking if there were any girls he had his eye on, and he tried to dance around the question because there weren’t any girls and there had never been any girls but of course he couldn’t say that and she kept fucking asking so finally he made up a beautiful Cheerio named Courtney who had the most intoxicating laugh and the most incredible smile and the most beautiful eyes that changed color in different lights, who wore fancy clothes and sometimes high heels and liked to sing, and that got her off his back for the rest of their visit.
He couldn’t have been more relieved when they finally left and school started back up. And even though he’d had to clear missing some hockey practices with Coach Larsen, it felt fucking amazing that the football team was doing so well, and that was enough to keep his head above water. Hell, there were days when he didn’t think about Hummel for two, even three straight hours. And then it was the last game of the regular season, and they didn’t even have to win to go to the championship. It was happening. Something good was finally happening in his life.
And then that last game was going great, and they were up ahead with only five seconds left. They didn’t even need to win, and they were going to. That’s how fucking awesome they were. But of course, like all the good things in Dave’s life, it had to go to shit.
Hudson gathered them up in a huddle, and Dave didn’t know why. What was there to talk about? There were five seconds left, he could just take a knee and it would be over. But he huddled up with everyone else and Hudson started to speak. “All right, I just wanna take a minute to tell you guys how proud of you I am. We didn’t even have to win this game to go to championship next week but none of you took it off. When we take a knee, we’re gonna finish first in conference for the first time in McKinley history.”
A pep talk? Seriously? He shook his head; he didn’t need this fluffy shit. This wasn’t Rudy or Remember the Titans or some shit, let’s just win the game and stop being so sappy about it. “Football is back, bitches!” Puckerman yelled, and everyone cheered and Dave thought that was more like it, but he couldn’t help the comment that slipped out next.
“Maybe we should all break out into a song after we win.”
Hudson frowned. “Hey, shut it, Karofsky,” he said, and suddenly things were way too damn serious, and nobody told him to shut it.
“No freakin’ way. I figure if I stay on you you’ll run away like your little butt-buddy Hummel.”
…what the FUCK was that? Much as Hudson was a stick up his ass sometimes (and not in the good way either…shit, did he seriously just think that?), he knew that there was no reason to say shit like that. Kurt might have pined after Hudson once upon a time but they were brothers now. Even if Hudson was still somehow Kurt’s type while Dave wasn’t, which he didn’t care about at all.
But it didn’t get a rise out of Hudson. “That’s funny, Karofsky, how you’re callin’ everybody gay all the time, but…you never seem to have a girlfriend.”
And then game or no game it was on, bitch, and Az had to pull him back from taking the fucker down right then and there. He sneered. This conversation was getting way too close for comfort. “I really hope that linebacker doesn’t get the jump on me. I bet it would hurt like hell to get sacked by him.” Hudson followed his gaze to number 58 on the other team, and Dave caught a hint of nervousness in the quarterback’s eyes as he clapped his hands and brought the huddle in again.
“Slide left on one. Ready? Break!”
They lined up, and okay, Dave wasn’t actually going to let 58 through, because that would be too much even for him. But somehow Hudson dropped the fucking snap, and when 58 saw it he just went for it and Dave couldn’t stop him. It was the most ridiculous loss of his life. He sneered at Hudson as he walked past. “Nice hands,” he said, shoulder-checking him and not meeting his eyes as he headed for the lockers.
The Beast was not going to be pleased.
***
Well. That had gone just about as well as could be expected. Wasn’t his fault Hudson suddenly got butterfingers just cause he couldn’t take a joke about the glee club. At least Strando and some of the other guys had backed him up. As he pulled into the garage and stepped out of the car, he rolled his left shoulder around where Puckerman had slammed him back into the locker. That was gonna hurt in the morning.
He opened the door into the house, and his father was sitting on the couch in the living room. Facing the door. With a beer in his hand. Great. “Uh, hey Pop, ‘m home,” he said, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder and heading towards the stairs, not letting himself meet his father’s eyes.
“So what the hell happened out there?”
Oh come on, he was not going to have to rehash the whole locker room argument with his Pop. He turned around and sighed, and Pop had stood and was walking towards him. “I dunno, we were doing great until Hudson dropped the ball on the last play.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “I saw that linebacker run right around you.”
“It’s not like I meant him to! He just got around me, okay? Shit happens.”
“Hey!” his father yelled, and his hand began to raise into the air. Dave flinched, then realized his dad was only pointing at him. Pop hadn’t hit him since his last growth spurt, but old habits die hard. “Watch your mouth when you’re talking to me!”
Dave realized his jaw had gone slack. He fumbled for words, and he awkwardly shifted the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder. “I, uh, sorry sir.” He looked down. He could feel his father’s gaze hardening on him.
“You know, if you don’t start bringing your grades back up, sports may be your only chance of getting into college.” Dave frowned…his grades had come back up a bit since Kurt had left, but his dad was right, they still weren’t what they used to be. “Don’t fuck it up.” Dave just nodded, and his father walked past him, past the stairs back to his parents’ bedroom. For a minute Dave didn’t move, then he turned around again and walked up the stairs and into his room. He let the gym bag fall to the floor, and his hands clenched tightly into fists. But he took a deep breath, having the presence of mind not to punch a hole in his bedroom wall, and instead just kicked the bag across the floor and half-under his bed before heading off to shower.
Fucking Hudson.
***
The next week…well, that’s when it all really went to shit. It started when Az decided he had to slushie Wheels, and as weird as it felt to Dave to pick on the kid in the wheelchair (and weirder still when Wheels brought that up in his own defense) he had to stick by his main man. The Beast hunted them down at lunch and told them to meet in the choir room after school. Which sounded kind of ominous but Dave figured how bad could it be?
Of course it was as ominous as it sounded. The Beast was making them join Glee Club. For an entire fucking week. Their reps would never hear the end of this. Olson would have a goddamn field day.
Berry called him a homophobe. And that hurt. Not that it wasn’t true. But in that moment he almost wished that she knew.
The next time the club met, things just got better and better. Not only did they have to be in Glee Club, they had to sing a song at the fucking halftime show of their own fucking championship game. In front of the whole damn school.
Az was right. This was a crazy town.
Although he had to admit that if they had to get up and sing in front of everybody like a bunch of queers…well, Thriller wasn’t a bad song to have to do.
***
“Zombie camp” was probably the weirdest shit that Dave had ever done in his life. There was some red-headed dude with glasses and a beard who was playing the piano, and they had to somehow walk around in time to the music while putting a little “afterlife” into their performance. It was fuckin’ strange. But it was kinda…he hated to admit it, but kinda fun. He’d nearly lost it laughing when he saw Chang trying to choke himself with his own hand coming up through his shirt. And, once he let his inhibitions go a little bit, he actually…okay, fuck it, he liked this. Even if he did probably kinda suck at it.
Their coach, the Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester, gave them a break to go get zombiefied, but he called Dave over. Shit. He was probably gonna tell Dave how much he sucked and how he needed to work on that afterlife crap. He awkwardly walked over. “Look, I know I’m bad. Can you just…spare me, so we can get through this?”
Schuester shook his head. “That’s not what I was gonna say at all. You’re actually really good.”
Wait, what? He was…he was good? Dave was confused, and yet he felt this sort of swelling up in his chest. It felt like a hat trick. Well, not quite that good. But pretty damn good. And suddenly, Dave was even more confused. But he couldn’t help the tiny smile that played at his lips.
“If you took that energy you use bullying people and put it into this? You’d be one of the most talented guys in the school.”
Okay, better than a hat trick now. What the hell? It should not feel this good to be told you were good at gay shit like this. But…well, it did.
“Just, think about it.” Schuester said, and patted him on the shoulder. Dave just nodded, speechless, as Schuester walked away. The thought of actually joining Homo Explosion for real was just…well, it wasn’t an option. At all. It was social suicide and everybody knew it.
But maybe he could stretch a little bit more out of this “punishment.” After all, he was starting to realize what those guys saw in it all. Singing really felt good, and he couldn’t even imagine how amazing it must feel to sing about something that really meant something to you, instead of just singing about monsters, as awesome as that was. Maybe he could suggest a warmup song, something he could sing from the heart, cause as gay and cheesy as that sounded it would be cheaper than therapy. But he’d have to pick something the other guys would like.
But it had to be…it needed to be…a song that meant something to him. Something that he could sing and know that he was feeling it. Something where the words could speak to him.
He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and started scrolling through it, trying to get an idea. But nothing seemed quite right. Nothing fit. He was getting down to the end of the alphabetical list of artists, and he was starting to think that maybe this was a stupid idea and he should just forget it, but then he saw a name and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of them before. He sang this one song of theirs in the car sometimes. And that song, from this band, was fucking perfect for the show. They had to do it.
But the idea couldn’t come from him. Hudson, he could suggest it, and he could sing the lead, cause no matter what Mr. Schuester said about his talent he knew Hudson was way better than he was at this stuff. And he had to come up with a legit reason to want to do it, not just cause he liked singing…that was just way too gay. His brain was spinning as he headed backstage to get his zombie makeup on. The ideas were coming. They were coming. Now he just had to get Hudson on board.
***
The next day, after a quick rehearsal and some zombie makeup, they were ready for the first full run-through of their warmup piece. Dave’s heart pounded in his chest. It felt like getting ready to run out onto the field or skate out onto the rink, those last few seconds before the game started. He could hear his own breathing, feel the arteries in his head expanding and contracting, and he focused in on the sound of the piano as he turned to face the back wall of the auditorium. He was ready for this shit.
Hudson started to sing, and Dave moved through his parts. He tried to get into the character, to be the zombie as he danced. Before he knew it, the chorus had come around, and he started to sing, imagining that he was in his car, and that he was the only one who could hear.
“Now let me tell you ‘bout the way she looked, the way she’d act and the color of her hair!” he sang, and the dancing seemed to just flow with it. It felt natural, it felt easy, it felt incredible. “Her voice was soft and cool, her eyes were clear and bright, but she’s not thereeeeeeee!” And he couldn’t help but think of Kurt, but for once, he didn’t mind that he was thinking of him. For once in his life, it felt right.
As the song went on, he had to look around a couple of times to remember the steps, but soon he had them down again, and by the time the chorus rolled around again he stopped worrying about how it looked and he just sang. The song ended, and the silence hung heavy in the air as they waited for Schuester’s verdict.
When he said it was awesome, Dave felt like he was flying.
***
For the first time in, he couldn’t even remember how long, Dave was on top of the world.
They decided not to take their makeup off for the rest of the day. Just to see the looks on the faces of the rest of the students as they walked around all zombiefied. And it was totally worth it. He and Az and Wheels led the team through the halls, and people shrank away from them, people stared, but Dave didn’t even care because he felt like such a fucking badass. But then, they were there.
The hockey guys. And they were all holding slushies.
Goddammit.
Olson was standing in the front. The center had always been one of his primary rivals on the team, and the fact that he was usually a complete asshole didn’t help his opinion of the guy. He had a smirk on his face that Dave did his best to match. “Appropriate outfits. They represent the death of your guys’s reign at this school.” Dave shook his head in disbelief, and at Olson trying to act like he’d come up with this deep symbolic connection, the douchenozzle. They were gods right now, and as much as he loved hockey, he knew that it was football that kept him on top, makeup or no makeup.
Hudson piped up behind him. “How many times do we have to put you puckheads in your place before you realize that football rules this school?” Dave looked back at him, feeling caught in between two worlds, but eventually looked back at the hockey guys and nodded. It was the truth, and he knew the team wouldn’t hold it against him forever. They needed him too damn much.
Olson quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe. But not after you make dancin’ fools of yourselves at that halftime show. You know it, we know it,” he shrugged and looked at McNeil, “the whole school knows it.”
Dave’s temper and his pride got the better of him, and he leaned forward threateningly as he spoke. “They’ll think different after they see it. It’s gonna be awesome!” And he knew he believed it. Fuck the other puckheads, he liked this shit, and the show was gonna be fuckin’ awesome, and they’d realize it when they saw.
Olson laughed, and so did the other guys behind him. “Holy crap, they turned Karofsky gay!”
And just like that, with six words, the fantasy world that he’d been building cracked, crumbled, and shattered into a million tiny shards as it hit the ground.
He heard a voice behind him but it was just muffled noise as Olson’s words echoed in his head. They turned Karofsky gay. Gay.
Gay.
That word seemed to echo in his head for hours.
Then a wall of cherry-flavored ice hit him straight in the face.
Title: She’s Not There
Author: dawncrow
Pairing,Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Azimio Adams, Finn Hudson, Paul Karofsky, Nick Olson (OC-ish)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Ficmix
Word Count: 3,691
Spoilers: Through 2x11.
Warnings: Lots of swearing and homophobic language
Previous Chapters: HERE
A/N: I can’t believe I thought I could do this episode in one chapter. What the hell was I thinking? I’m splitting in it half and it’s still really freaking long.
Summary: On the day he got back from his suspension, the harsher-than-usual looks Dave got from all the Gleeks told him that something was definitely wrong.
But it's too late to say you're sorry.
How would I know? Why should I care?
Please don't bother tryin' to find her,
She's not there…
News that his expulsion had been reversed came on Monday, and it was probably the most welcome thing that Dave had heard in weeks. He wouldn’t have to graduate late, or get shipped off to some school for delinquents or worse, go to Temple. He wouldn’t have to miss the rest of football, or the hockey season. He would be able to go back the next day, having already served the suspension that the school board deemed was appropriate for his offense. He could go back, and he could apologize to Kurt and this whole thing could be over. Well, no, it wouldn’t be over, he had come to accept that much. It would probably never be over. But at least maybe he could start to make things better.
But when he got back to McKinley and took his normal route in past Hummel’s locker, he didn’t see Hummel there, and his lock was gone. And the harsher-than-usual looks he got from all the Gleeks told him that something was definitely wrong. As he was getting his book out of his locker for pre-calc, though, he felt a hand slap him heavily on the back, and turned to see Azimio, all smiles and holding two green apple slushies.
“Welcome back and congratulations, my friend, you did it!” he said, holding out one slushie towards him, which Dave took reflexively.
“Did what?” he asked, and Az raised an eyebrow, his smile growing.
“You haven’t heard? Thanks to you, William McKinley High School is now a fag-free zone!” Dave’s jaw fell slowly open as Azimio raised his slushie cup and clearly waited for him to say something. When Dave didn’t respond except to furrow his eyebrows in confusion, Az shook his head, and laughed as he explained. “The homo transferred when he heard you weren’t gonna be expelled anymore. Went to some fancypants private school down in Columbus someplace. So? Eh?” He grinned, and gestured with the slushie cup again, and finally Dave snapped out of it long enough to bump his own cup against Azimio’s and paste a grin on his face. Looking satisfied, Az slapped his shoulder again and headed off down the hall, and Dave just stared in disbelief before looking down at the slushie in his hand.
He hadn’t meant for this to happen. Kurt wasn’t supposed to leave. Kurt was the strong one, the brave one. If he’d scared that out of him…if he’d turned perfect, courageous, amazing Kurt into a scared little boy like him…god, he was even more of a fuckup than he’d thought. The halls started to thin out, and as the last few students filtered into their classes, Dave let the anger well through him as he threw the slushie hard against the wall above the trash can and watched the sticky green liquid drip down to the floor.
He shouldn’t be so goddamn upset about this. Fancy was gone. If he knew what was best for him, he’d consider that a good thing.
But Dave Karofsky was never very good at doing what was best for him.
***
He tried to shrug it off, to let things go back to normal, cause he figured if Kurt had transferred to an expensive private school to avoid him, he probably didn’t want Dave calling him up or anything. He picked up again with the slushies, and threw himself harder into football. The team was doing really well this year under the Beast, and they were looking good to make the championship game, which was just unbelievable. Maybe it was for the best, right? Maybe now that Kurt was gone he would stop thinking about him all the time, maybe he’d start noticing girls, maybe he’d be able to be normal after all. But underneath it all, he knew it wasn’t true. He’d told himself that same shit a million times and it hadn’t worked, why the hell should it work now? They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and Dave had always thought that was just stupid sentimental bullshit, but he found his heart sinking every time he turned the corner by Hummel’s locker and he wasn’t there.
Christmas break came, and being away from McKinley didn’t help like he’d hoped it would. His family came into town, and his grandfather got to complaining about the fag couple that had moved in down the street from them, and how sick it was, how they had a house together and a dog and they even wore wedding rings, it was such a disgrace, and then even the pastor somehow managed to work a line about the sinful homosexuals of today’s secular society into the fucking Christmas Eve service. And then on Christmas after dinner Aunt Lauren started asking if there were any girls he had his eye on, and he tried to dance around the question because there weren’t any girls and there had never been any girls but of course he couldn’t say that and she kept fucking asking so finally he made up a beautiful Cheerio named Courtney who had the most intoxicating laugh and the most incredible smile and the most beautiful eyes that changed color in different lights, who wore fancy clothes and sometimes high heels and liked to sing, and that got her off his back for the rest of their visit.
He couldn’t have been more relieved when they finally left and school started back up. And even though he’d had to clear missing some hockey practices with Coach Larsen, it felt fucking amazing that the football team was doing so well, and that was enough to keep his head above water. Hell, there were days when he didn’t think about Hummel for two, even three straight hours. And then it was the last game of the regular season, and they didn’t even have to win to go to the championship. It was happening. Something good was finally happening in his life.
And then that last game was going great, and they were up ahead with only five seconds left. They didn’t even need to win, and they were going to. That’s how fucking awesome they were. But of course, like all the good things in Dave’s life, it had to go to shit.
Hudson gathered them up in a huddle, and Dave didn’t know why. What was there to talk about? There were five seconds left, he could just take a knee and it would be over. But he huddled up with everyone else and Hudson started to speak. “All right, I just wanna take a minute to tell you guys how proud of you I am. We didn’t even have to win this game to go to championship next week but none of you took it off. When we take a knee, we’re gonna finish first in conference for the first time in McKinley history.”
A pep talk? Seriously? He shook his head; he didn’t need this fluffy shit. This wasn’t Rudy or Remember the Titans or some shit, let’s just win the game and stop being so sappy about it. “Football is back, bitches!” Puckerman yelled, and everyone cheered and Dave thought that was more like it, but he couldn’t help the comment that slipped out next.
“Maybe we should all break out into a song after we win.”
Hudson frowned. “Hey, shut it, Karofsky,” he said, and suddenly things were way too damn serious, and nobody told him to shut it.
“No freakin’ way. I figure if I stay on you you’ll run away like your little butt-buddy Hummel.”
…what the FUCK was that? Much as Hudson was a stick up his ass sometimes (and not in the good way either…shit, did he seriously just think that?), he knew that there was no reason to say shit like that. Kurt might have pined after Hudson once upon a time but they were brothers now. Even if Hudson was still somehow Kurt’s type while Dave wasn’t, which he didn’t care about at all.
But it didn’t get a rise out of Hudson. “That’s funny, Karofsky, how you’re callin’ everybody gay all the time, but…you never seem to have a girlfriend.”
And then game or no game it was on, bitch, and Az had to pull him back from taking the fucker down right then and there. He sneered. This conversation was getting way too close for comfort. “I really hope that linebacker doesn’t get the jump on me. I bet it would hurt like hell to get sacked by him.” Hudson followed his gaze to number 58 on the other team, and Dave caught a hint of nervousness in the quarterback’s eyes as he clapped his hands and brought the huddle in again.
“Slide left on one. Ready? Break!”
They lined up, and okay, Dave wasn’t actually going to let 58 through, because that would be too much even for him. But somehow Hudson dropped the fucking snap, and when 58 saw it he just went for it and Dave couldn’t stop him. It was the most ridiculous loss of his life. He sneered at Hudson as he walked past. “Nice hands,” he said, shoulder-checking him and not meeting his eyes as he headed for the lockers.
The Beast was not going to be pleased.
***
Well. That had gone just about as well as could be expected. Wasn’t his fault Hudson suddenly got butterfingers just cause he couldn’t take a joke about the glee club. At least Strando and some of the other guys had backed him up. As he pulled into the garage and stepped out of the car, he rolled his left shoulder around where Puckerman had slammed him back into the locker. That was gonna hurt in the morning.
He opened the door into the house, and his father was sitting on the couch in the living room. Facing the door. With a beer in his hand. Great. “Uh, hey Pop, ‘m home,” he said, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder and heading towards the stairs, not letting himself meet his father’s eyes.
“So what the hell happened out there?”
Oh come on, he was not going to have to rehash the whole locker room argument with his Pop. He turned around and sighed, and Pop had stood and was walking towards him. “I dunno, we were doing great until Hudson dropped the ball on the last play.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “I saw that linebacker run right around you.”
“It’s not like I meant him to! He just got around me, okay? Shit happens.”
“Hey!” his father yelled, and his hand began to raise into the air. Dave flinched, then realized his dad was only pointing at him. Pop hadn’t hit him since his last growth spurt, but old habits die hard. “Watch your mouth when you’re talking to me!”
Dave realized his jaw had gone slack. He fumbled for words, and he awkwardly shifted the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder. “I, uh, sorry sir.” He looked down. He could feel his father’s gaze hardening on him.
“You know, if you don’t start bringing your grades back up, sports may be your only chance of getting into college.” Dave frowned…his grades had come back up a bit since Kurt had left, but his dad was right, they still weren’t what they used to be. “Don’t fuck it up.” Dave just nodded, and his father walked past him, past the stairs back to his parents’ bedroom. For a minute Dave didn’t move, then he turned around again and walked up the stairs and into his room. He let the gym bag fall to the floor, and his hands clenched tightly into fists. But he took a deep breath, having the presence of mind not to punch a hole in his bedroom wall, and instead just kicked the bag across the floor and half-under his bed before heading off to shower.
Fucking Hudson.
***
The next week…well, that’s when it all really went to shit. It started when Az decided he had to slushie Wheels, and as weird as it felt to Dave to pick on the kid in the wheelchair (and weirder still when Wheels brought that up in his own defense) he had to stick by his main man. The Beast hunted them down at lunch and told them to meet in the choir room after school. Which sounded kind of ominous but Dave figured how bad could it be?
Of course it was as ominous as it sounded. The Beast was making them join Glee Club. For an entire fucking week. Their reps would never hear the end of this. Olson would have a goddamn field day.
Berry called him a homophobe. And that hurt. Not that it wasn’t true. But in that moment he almost wished that she knew.
The next time the club met, things just got better and better. Not only did they have to be in Glee Club, they had to sing a song at the fucking halftime show of their own fucking championship game. In front of the whole damn school.
Az was right. This was a crazy town.
Although he had to admit that if they had to get up and sing in front of everybody like a bunch of queers…well, Thriller wasn’t a bad song to have to do.
***
“Zombie camp” was probably the weirdest shit that Dave had ever done in his life. There was some red-headed dude with glasses and a beard who was playing the piano, and they had to somehow walk around in time to the music while putting a little “afterlife” into their performance. It was fuckin’ strange. But it was kinda…he hated to admit it, but kinda fun. He’d nearly lost it laughing when he saw Chang trying to choke himself with his own hand coming up through his shirt. And, once he let his inhibitions go a little bit, he actually…okay, fuck it, he liked this. Even if he did probably kinda suck at it.
Their coach, the Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester, gave them a break to go get zombiefied, but he called Dave over. Shit. He was probably gonna tell Dave how much he sucked and how he needed to work on that afterlife crap. He awkwardly walked over. “Look, I know I’m bad. Can you just…spare me, so we can get through this?”
Schuester shook his head. “That’s not what I was gonna say at all. You’re actually really good.”
Wait, what? He was…he was good? Dave was confused, and yet he felt this sort of swelling up in his chest. It felt like a hat trick. Well, not quite that good. But pretty damn good. And suddenly, Dave was even more confused. But he couldn’t help the tiny smile that played at his lips.
“If you took that energy you use bullying people and put it into this? You’d be one of the most talented guys in the school.”
Okay, better than a hat trick now. What the hell? It should not feel this good to be told you were good at gay shit like this. But…well, it did.
“Just, think about it.” Schuester said, and patted him on the shoulder. Dave just nodded, speechless, as Schuester walked away. The thought of actually joining Homo Explosion for real was just…well, it wasn’t an option. At all. It was social suicide and everybody knew it.
But maybe he could stretch a little bit more out of this “punishment.” After all, he was starting to realize what those guys saw in it all. Singing really felt good, and he couldn’t even imagine how amazing it must feel to sing about something that really meant something to you, instead of just singing about monsters, as awesome as that was. Maybe he could suggest a warmup song, something he could sing from the heart, cause as gay and cheesy as that sounded it would be cheaper than therapy. But he’d have to pick something the other guys would like.
But it had to be…it needed to be…a song that meant something to him. Something that he could sing and know that he was feeling it. Something where the words could speak to him.
He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and started scrolling through it, trying to get an idea. But nothing seemed quite right. Nothing fit. He was getting down to the end of the alphabetical list of artists, and he was starting to think that maybe this was a stupid idea and he should just forget it, but then he saw a name and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of them before. He sang this one song of theirs in the car sometimes. And that song, from this band, was fucking perfect for the show. They had to do it.
But the idea couldn’t come from him. Hudson, he could suggest it, and he could sing the lead, cause no matter what Mr. Schuester said about his talent he knew Hudson was way better than he was at this stuff. And he had to come up with a legit reason to want to do it, not just cause he liked singing…that was just way too gay. His brain was spinning as he headed backstage to get his zombie makeup on. The ideas were coming. They were coming. Now he just had to get Hudson on board.
***
The next day, after a quick rehearsal and some zombie makeup, they were ready for the first full run-through of their warmup piece. Dave’s heart pounded in his chest. It felt like getting ready to run out onto the field or skate out onto the rink, those last few seconds before the game started. He could hear his own breathing, feel the arteries in his head expanding and contracting, and he focused in on the sound of the piano as he turned to face the back wall of the auditorium. He was ready for this shit.
Hudson started to sing, and Dave moved through his parts. He tried to get into the character, to be the zombie as he danced. Before he knew it, the chorus had come around, and he started to sing, imagining that he was in his car, and that he was the only one who could hear.
“Now let me tell you ‘bout the way she looked, the way she’d act and the color of her hair!” he sang, and the dancing seemed to just flow with it. It felt natural, it felt easy, it felt incredible. “Her voice was soft and cool, her eyes were clear and bright, but she’s not thereeeeeeee!” And he couldn’t help but think of Kurt, but for once, he didn’t mind that he was thinking of him. For once in his life, it felt right.
As the song went on, he had to look around a couple of times to remember the steps, but soon he had them down again, and by the time the chorus rolled around again he stopped worrying about how it looked and he just sang. The song ended, and the silence hung heavy in the air as they waited for Schuester’s verdict.
When he said it was awesome, Dave felt like he was flying.
***
For the first time in, he couldn’t even remember how long, Dave was on top of the world.
They decided not to take their makeup off for the rest of the day. Just to see the looks on the faces of the rest of the students as they walked around all zombiefied. And it was totally worth it. He and Az and Wheels led the team through the halls, and people shrank away from them, people stared, but Dave didn’t even care because he felt like such a fucking badass. But then, they were there.
The hockey guys. And they were all holding slushies.
Goddammit.
Olson was standing in the front. The center had always been one of his primary rivals on the team, and the fact that he was usually a complete asshole didn’t help his opinion of the guy. He had a smirk on his face that Dave did his best to match. “Appropriate outfits. They represent the death of your guys’s reign at this school.” Dave shook his head in disbelief, and at Olson trying to act like he’d come up with this deep symbolic connection, the douchenozzle. They were gods right now, and as much as he loved hockey, he knew that it was football that kept him on top, makeup or no makeup.
Hudson piped up behind him. “How many times do we have to put you puckheads in your place before you realize that football rules this school?” Dave looked back at him, feeling caught in between two worlds, but eventually looked back at the hockey guys and nodded. It was the truth, and he knew the team wouldn’t hold it against him forever. They needed him too damn much.
Olson quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe. But not after you make dancin’ fools of yourselves at that halftime show. You know it, we know it,” he shrugged and looked at McNeil, “the whole school knows it.”
Dave’s temper and his pride got the better of him, and he leaned forward threateningly as he spoke. “They’ll think different after they see it. It’s gonna be awesome!” And he knew he believed it. Fuck the other puckheads, he liked this shit, and the show was gonna be fuckin’ awesome, and they’d realize it when they saw.
Olson laughed, and so did the other guys behind him. “Holy crap, they turned Karofsky gay!”
And just like that, with six words, the fantasy world that he’d been building cracked, crumbled, and shattered into a million tiny shards as it hit the ground.
He heard a voice behind him but it was just muffled noise as Olson’s words echoed in his head. They turned Karofsky gay. Gay.
Gay.
That word seemed to echo in his head for hours.
Then a wall of cherry-flavored ice hit him straight in the face.