Fifth Prompt Post
Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer
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“David!” Mrs. Karofsky shouted and, without thinking, her hand shot out to connect sharply with the boy's cheek. “You do not speak that way in this house!” Her voice clearly portrayed her disgust. “I really don't know who you are any more, David. I really don't.” Tears started filling her eyes. “Why would you do something like this, David? I just don't understand! Help me understand!”
His mom, in all honesty, was beginning to freak him out. Tears never set well with him- period. But tears on his mom's face was purely disturbing. He awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot as he searched for the correct answer, rubbing his sore cheek- but he wasn't about to start crying like a baby because his mom slapped him.
"Now, honey-"
Mrs. Karofsky cut her husband off, her eyes flashing with anger. "Don't 'now, honey' me, Paul! Didn't you watch the same video I did?! How can you expect me to be calm!" she ranted.
"Linda," he put his hands on her upper arms in a soothing manner, "I know that you're upset and, yes, I am too, but Dave is just a kid and kids sometimes do things that they don't know are wrong." He paused. "We never did really teach him to accept homosexuality, sweetheart."
Mrs. Karofsky gaped at her husband for a minute, growing angrier by the second and Dave wasn't sure if he wanted to stick around and find out what was about to happen. “Do not make me out to be the bad guy, Paul Dan Karofsky,” she seethed, poking a finger into the larger man's chest. “Are son has committed a crime and you're taking his side?!” Disbelief colored her tone.
“No-”
“Wait- what? I haven't committed a crime!” Dave intervened, confused and defiant. He hadn't done anything wrong and he was certain of it!
“Go to your room!” his mother shouted, pointing in the general direction of David's room. “I really don't want to see you right now,” she said, her voice tight to keep herself from yelling anymore.
Still confused and becoming increasingly angry and a little bit sad, Dave did as he was told, rushing into his room. He paused before shutting his door completely and pressed his ear to the crack in an attempt to catch what his parents were talking about. It ended up not being that difficult, considering how loud his mom was being and, since she was being so loud, his dad had to make his voice louder in order to be heard.
Glass shattered and Dave winced before shutting the door.
On his bed, lying face down, deciding that he really didn't mind the fact that it was difficult to breath, he pondered if all that he'd done was really wrong- wrong enough to be called a crime, anyways. No, he didn't think so, but his parents seemed to think it was.
And they wanted him to apologize to the fag's face. That was completely unfair! Being grounded, he could deal with, but he shouldn't have to talk civilized with the gay kid. It was that girl's fault for infecting him with his gayness.
In all actuality, Dave knew that Kurt hadn't infected him with anything, it just felt good to blame it on someone. Why did that stupid kid have to be so attractive?!
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Neither man was certain as to where the woman of the house was. Linda had walked out last night, saying she needed a break, and yet to have returned.
“Do I have to do this?” the teenager whined when the car was parked in the Hudmel's driveway.
“Yes, David,” his dad snapped, not looking at him. He exited the car.
He groaned, exiting the car more slowly and following behind him, looking oddly like a kicked puppy. He hung back as his dad rung the doorbell.
Burt, who had just about to doze off during a rerun of Deadliest Catch, was startled awake. He glanced around then grumbled as the doorbell went off again and stood up; he assumed that Kurt had forgotten his keys at home again. Opening the door, he was surprised to see two men he'd never seen before in his life.
“Erm, hello.” His expression showed his confused. “Can I help you?” He carefully examined the short, older man and what might be the man's son, both looked like they'd rather be anywhere other than the Hudmel's front door.
“Hello, are you Kurt Hummel's father?” the older man asked, scratching his head uncomfortably.
“Yes, but-”
“Burt, honey?” Carole called, walking towards her fiance from upstairs. “Who's at the door?” She paused beside him, glancing at the two men.
“I'm Paul Karofsky and this is my son, David,” he explained, gesturing to the kid behind him. “Dave would like to apologize to your son.”
Carole frowned suddenly, glancing at her lover.
“Apologize?” Burt frowned as well, but a glint of a murderous look entered his eyes as he stared down this 'David' kid. “What did you do to my son?”
“It's nothing really, my dad's-”
“Hush, David,” Paul commanded, glancing warningly at his son. “He wants to apologize personally for the bullying he has done.”
Burt suddenly looked prepared to kill. “Really now? Well, I'm sure Kurt doesn't want to see you if you're one of the assholes that puts him through hell every day. So, we can say apology not accepted.” He was breathing heavier than usual and his vision was tinted red. “Now, if you'd be so kind as to get off my property before I call the cops- and you'd better stay the hell away from my son or I'll bring the school into this and get you into some deep shit.”
“Honey, remember your heart,” his fiance murmured warningly, placing a soft hand on his forearm and the other around the front of his waist.
“We just want-”
“Get off of my property.” His voice was only slightly calmer as he switched his glare to the father.
With that the Karofskys left, Dave feeling triumphant and his dad just feeling rather put out.
Later that night, when Kurt came home from his shopping trip with Mercedes, loaded down with five bags on one arm and the girl hanging onto his other, Burt requested that he speak to his son alone. Kurt, curious, requested the Mercedes go on downstairs and try on her first outfit that they would model for Carole and sat down on the end of the couch nearest to his dad.
“What's up, Dad? Is something wrong?” he asked, looking over his father's face apprehensively, trying to figure out if he'd done something wrong before going out with Mercedes. “Did I do something?” He hated having his father upset with him and tried to do everything exactly right.
“No, you haven't done anything,” Burt immediately replied, shaking his head. “Do you know a Dave Karofsky?” he inquired.
Eyes widening, the teenage boy glanced nervously at the muted television. “Hey, is this a new 'Pickers'?” he abruptly changed the subject, his mind frantically searching through reasons as to why his dad would even know of the name Dave Karofsky.
“Kurt...” Burt said warningly, switching off the television all-together. “What are you keeping from me?”
He sighed, forcing his icy facade out to cover up the tears he felt inside. “Nothing, dad. He's just a kid from my school,” he explained, sounding exasperated. “Can I go?”
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Suddenly angered, Kurt jumped to his feet and spun around to face his dad. “Were you not just having an honest conversation when you had that heart attack?! An honest conversation almost killed you! It doesn't matter what's going on, you just need a little stress put on your heart to make it stop- and you don't even have the slightest idea how-” he was beginning to choke on the sobs he was trying to keep down, “-how scared I was, thinking I had lost you forever...” the energy in his voice was dying down from a semi-scream to a small whimper. “I c-can't live through that again.” He turned away from his dad, ashamed that he was crying.
“I'm... sorry,” he finally managed in a semi-calm voice. “Dave Karofsky is a jock at my school. He occasionally... bullies the Glee Club... but it's nothing worse than a slushie to the face or a locker-check.” He still didn't look at his dad.
Burt, trying to compose himself from what his son had just revealed, cleared his throat and reached out to grab the boy's hand. “Kurt... please sit down and look at me.”
Reluctantly, Kurt did so, plopping down on the end of the couch and looking at him with watery eyes.
“Tell me the truth, kiddo. I need to know what he's done to you...”
Swallowing with much difficulty, he looked down at the floor, shame written on his face. “He... he k-kissed me then threatened to kill me,” he mumbled, his voice just high enough for Burt to catch every word.
“What the hell!” Burt yelled suddenly, disappointed that he'd missed a perfect chance to kick that son of a bitch's ass. “Why-” He cut himself off when he realized his son was cowering away from him, muttering repetitive “I'm sorry”s, tears running down his face.
“K-Kurt... kiddo,” his voice had softened and he sank slowly down onto the couch by him. “I'm... I'm not mad at you... I'm mad at that Karofsky kid. You don't have anything to be sorry for.” He placed a soothing hand on his son's head and suddenly had an armful of his clinging boy. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around him, but his hold was tight and he muttered reassuringly it's okay, it's okay, everything's going to be okay, I'll make it okay, you have Carole and me and Finn and all of your friends to help you through this, we'll get that kid expelled, it's going to be okay.
“I'm going to go up to your school Monday morning, okay?” Kurt nodded. “Now, I don't want you to be afraid to come to me about something as serious as this, alright?” He nodded again. “Please look at me, Kurt.”
Slowly, Kurt raised his head and looked at Burt, tears drying on his cheeks.
“Promise me that you won't keep anymore secrets to yourself. I'm your dad. I'm here to help you through anything and everything and love you no matter what.”
“I p-promise.”
That night, after the teenager had pulled himself together and gone down to put on a quasi-fashion show with Mercedes, Kurt found himself sucked into a terrible nightmare.
(My apologies, but I think I must intrude here. Now, what was seen by Dave Karofsky and his parents was not the extent of the sexual harassment caught on camera. It is directly after the kiss that Jacob Ben Israel came across a few technical difficulties when trying to put the footage on disc- his computer shut down completely and this extra footage was lost. So, you must be warned that what you are about to read goes beyond a forceful kiss.)
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“You promised daddy no more secrets,” a voice whispered in his ear, a sweaty hand clasped firmly over his mouth. The side of his face smashed against the rough locker, silent sobs shaking his body.
Pain... pain everywhere. He felt like he was being ripped open as Dave continued to thrust and thrust and thrust...
“You'd better keep this a secret or I will kill you... Daddy can't protect you from everything...” He was panting and groaning and moaning and biting into his shoulder and sucking and sucking and he took his hand away and muttered, “I wanna hear you beg for me to stop- beg me to stop fucking your little ass, you cock slut.”
Kurt wouldn't give him that satisfaction. He'd taken too much already and he was not about to give up his strength. He was strong. He would get through this. His body may be too weak for him to fight off his attacker, but his mind won't allow him access.
“You'll be sorry,” Karofsky whispered harshly as his voice faded away and Kurt awoke with a start.
He gripped his sheets, trying to calm his breathing, as he looked around the too-dark room. When he had calmed down a little, he turned on the lamp sitting upon his bedside table and sighed with relief when he saw that Karofsky wasn't actually there.
One last tear fell down his cheek and he finally decided that it was time to take hold of his strength and tell. Obviously he wasn't strong enough to deal with this on his own like he'd hoped. But he was still a little scared of Karofsky
Kurt slipped out of bed and tip-toed up the stairs. He walked down the hallway past the living room and down another that led to his dad's room. Deep breath in, slow exhale, and open the door. He peered inside, glancing around in the darkness, his eyes landing on his father's snoozing body, butterflies erupting in his stomach.
“Dad?” he whispered, hesitant, knowing it wasn't nearly loud enough to wake Burt, still unsure if he should actually do this. His resolve soon settle and, “Dad?” he asked, a little louder, stepping inside of the room and up to his bed. “Dad? Wake up, please.” He set a soft hand on his shoulder, so as not to frighten him.
Burt gave one final snort before jerking awake. “Huh?” he mumbled sleepily, blinking up at his son through the darkness. “Kurt, what's going on?” he grumbled, still half-asleep.
His resolve shook a little and he stumbled through the next sentence. “Um, w-well... I had a really, really bad dream.” He knew he would sound childish, but he was getting tired of always being the strong one, even when he had every reason to break down.
“You had a bad dream?” This was something new coming from his baby boy, which sparked an alarm signal inside of Burt. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and turned on the lamp sitting on his bedside table. Kurt blinked at the sudden light, hurriedly looking down at his bare feet to avoid his dad's searching eyes. “Uh, yeah...” he felt a little silly now. What had he expected his father to do?
“Want some warm milk?” he asked, reaching out to put a hand on Kurt's shoulder.
The thought of warm milk suddenly brought an intense feeling of comfort, which he could not explain, so he nodded, glancing shyly up to meet his dad's eyes.
A few minutes later, sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of warm milk sat careful between two hands. Kurt stared into the white liquid, hoping for answers, and Burt gazed curiously at his son.
“You ready to tell me what's got you so scared?”
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Glad to see you are updating this again!
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Glad that I'm updating too! Hopefully will have more soon.
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“What happened in the nightmare?” he prodded, folding his arms across his chest.
He sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Dad... I have to tell you something... but please don't freak out too much, okay?” he replied dejectedly, giving in to the fact that he had to tell his dad.
Burt frowned, his eyebrows pulling down in confusion. “Kurt...” he warned, unsure of what his son was about to say.
“Just let me talk. It's a long story and it's hard for me to say,” he requested, wrapping his arms protectively around himself. “Okay... well... erm... you know that guy who came over yesterday... and I told you that he bullied the Glee Club and he well... k-kissed me?”
Burt nodded, resisting the urge, once again, to go and kick that kid's ass.
“Well... h-he... he did... well, he did more than... that,” he admitted uneloquently, feeling awkward and self-conscious, sudden images of that moment popping into his mind but he forced them back, shutting his eyes tight.
Still slightly confused, the mechanics of his brain moving slow, almost as if he was unwilling to fully understand what his son had just told him. “What are you saying, Kurt?”
“He-He raped me, Dad... David Karofsky rapped me.”
Late that Sunday afternoon, back at the Karofsky Residence once again, Mrs. Karofsky still hadn't shown up and it was tense between father and son. The doorbell rang and Mr. Karofsky almost considered ignoring it, but then the soft buzzing went off a good ten times and he decided that it must me urgent. He stood, tied up his rob, and reluctantly gazed through the small peep-hole to see blue-uniformed police officers.
Now, he rushed through unlocking the door, fumbling with the keys, and threw it open. “May I help you?” he asked, trying not to seem as on-edge as he'd felt the past two days for fear of him seeming guilty.
“We're here for a David Anthony Karofsky. He's under arrest, charged with the rape, threatening, and harassment of Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.”
One month later, after all of the legalities was finished, Kurt could breathe a little easier, knowing that Dave Karofsky was in jail for a long time and had a restraining order so he could not come within one mile of Kurt. He finally felt... “Safe,” he concluded, smiling at his therapist, Donna O'Neil. “I feel safe.”
Donna smiled. “Good, Kurt. I'm glad that everything went smoothly.” She scribbled something down on her notepad. “Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about today?”
Kurt thought for a moment. “Well... alright, I always hear sexual assault stories where the victim is scared of the same sex as their attacker... is that true for all cases?” he asked, curious, and blushing a little from embarrassment.
“It is common, says statistics, but there are the few lucky victims that are strong-minded and refuse to be broken down. Do you feel scared of men?” she explained, only kindness in her eyes.
“No... I don't. It's just David.” He shook his head, thinking about all of the other men in his life, who had all been supportive and loving while the trial had been going on- even Finn, his soon-to-be step-brother, had stepped up to the plate and been there for Kurt whatever way possible.
Then he thought about Blaine. Oh, Blaine...
“I know that look,” Donna said knowingly, smiling. “Is there a special someone?” she asked and in faux-gossipy voice, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped together.
Kurt blushed a deeper shade of red, smiling, shyly looking down at his lap. “There might be... Is it strange that I'm moving on so quickly? Shouldn't I be dwelling, still, in what happened to me?” he asked, confused, feeling slightly like he was out of the norm of things.
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“Not every sexual assault case takes the same road. We've been working on this for a month and you've show great improvement. Also, from what I've heard, you were quite the fighter before- and I see a lot of that shining through now.” She smiled. “You're strong, Kurt. You're very strong.”
~The end!~
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