IOICF Sequel: And The World Spins Madly On
God, I'm so sorry! I haven't posted in forever! So much went crazy all at once.
Long story short I left the school I was at because of harassment issues, got a job, got a second job, quit the second job because they treated me like crap, and am trying to go back to school. And here we are.
Gah... the response was bigger than I expected for "If Only I Could Forget". Between LJ and FF, I got over 50 responses, the majority asking for a sequel, so here we go.
Read IOICF first if you haven't. It can stand alone, but to read the sequel you have to know what's going on.
Here we go.
Why did he bother?
Faggy… queer…
His father's words rang in his head again and again. He pulled himself into a tighter ball under his blankets, tears coming to his eyes.
Cry… that's all you ever do.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cry. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how he was feeling, no matter how much he wanted nothing more than to just break down and never leave his room again.
He had tried. God, he had tried. He had tried so hard to make his father proud… his mother proud…More than anything I wish your mother was here…
He pulled his pillow over his head, choking on a shuddering breath. If only he had taken the damn pill. His whole life, he had wanted nothing more than to make his parents proud of him, and he'd thought he was doing a pretty good job. Sure, there were the rough times, but he and his dad had always been so close, and so in tune with each other. His father had always been so supportive of him. But he had still failed. Kurt had failed his father. That much was evident.
And if his father was so ashamed of him… what would his mother think? He had tried so hard, but he had failed. He had failed everyone.
Now there was nothing left to do but to try to fix it.
Steeling himself, he rolled out of bed, and over to his mirror.
Finn blasted away at a few more aliens, but something was nagging at his mind. Something had been… off about Kurt and Burt at breakfast. Burt had been weird and Kurt had been extremely quiet… very disturbing. He hadn't been paying too much attention, because it was morning and he was tired and there was food, but even he had sensed the tension.
And then everyone had gone their separate ways and Kurt had seemed upset. Burt didn't even try to follow him. Which meant… which meant Burt probably knew why Kurt was upset… but then why didn't he go talk to him?
Confused and still feeling that nagging feeling, he paused his game and sighed. He reluctantly stood up and made his way back upstairs. Burt was still sitting in the kitchen, his head in his hands.
"Hey, uh, Burt?" Finn said.
Burt's head shot up and he looked at Finn, startled.
"Um… are… do… is Kurt ok?" Finn stammered.
"He's… yeah, buddy, he's ok." Burt said, a small smile forming on his face. "I think just… missing his meds for a night made him a little headachy and grumpy."
"Oh… ok." Finn said. He should have known it was something simple like that. Kurt was always sensitive to these things. "I'm gonna go see if he needs anything."
"Thanks, Finn." Burt stood up and streched a little. "I think I'm gonna head in to the shop… finish up a few jobs."
Finn went upstairs to Kurt's room and knocked on the door.
"Yeah?" was the muffled response from within the room.
"Uhh hey, you ok? Do you need anything? Burt said you might have a headache."
"He said… no. No, I'm fine… thanks."
"Ok… are you su-"
"I'm sure. Thanks though."
Finn shrugged and wandered back downstairs, resuming his alien blasting.
With a sigh, he opened the bottle and poured the pills into his hand.
I can do this… I can do this… I will make him proud.
He looked in the mirror again. It would be hard. It would be a long, painful process, but it was a small price to pay.
He checked his list again. Hair. Clothes. Voice. Blaine. Oh, god, Blaine… that would be the hardest. Glee?
5 things. 5 things that, for the most part, weren't even really that influential on his life, if he really sat back and thought about it. Except Blaine… oh god, Blaine.
It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt so, so bad. And he might never be able to forgive himself… but it was for his dad…
He rolled the pill between his fingers. Just because this was happening didn't mean he had to remember. He would know soon enough. He would see the results… but he didn't want to remember. He never wanted to remember that it was all because of him. There were some things he would never forget, like the talk with his dad… but he didn't have to remember this. He didn't have to remember any of it.
He swallowed the pill and took one last look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair. He brushed it. And then he grabbed the scissors of his vanity, and he started cutting it.
Rated T for homophobic language and angst.
Enjoy!
Treenbeen
Long story short I left the school I was at because of harassment issues, got a job, got a second job, quit the second job because they treated me like crap, and am trying to go back to school. And here we are.
Gah... the response was bigger than I expected for "If Only I Could Forget". Between LJ and FF, I got over 50 responses, the majority asking for a sequel, so here we go.
Read IOICF first if you haven't. It can stand alone, but to read the sequel you have to know what's going on.
Here we go.
Why did he bother?
Faggy… queer…
His father's words rang in his head again and again. He pulled himself into a tighter ball under his blankets, tears coming to his eyes.
Cry… that's all you ever do.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cry. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how he was feeling, no matter how much he wanted nothing more than to just break down and never leave his room again.
He had tried. God, he had tried. He had tried so hard to make his father proud… his mother proud…More than anything I wish your mother was here…
He pulled his pillow over his head, choking on a shuddering breath. If only he had taken the damn pill. His whole life, he had wanted nothing more than to make his parents proud of him, and he'd thought he was doing a pretty good job. Sure, there were the rough times, but he and his dad had always been so close, and so in tune with each other. His father had always been so supportive of him. But he had still failed. Kurt had failed his father. That much was evident.
And if his father was so ashamed of him… what would his mother think? He had tried so hard, but he had failed. He had failed everyone.
Now there was nothing left to do but to try to fix it.
Steeling himself, he rolled out of bed, and over to his mirror.
Finn blasted away at a few more aliens, but something was nagging at his mind. Something had been… off about Kurt and Burt at breakfast. Burt had been weird and Kurt had been extremely quiet… very disturbing. He hadn't been paying too much attention, because it was morning and he was tired and there was food, but even he had sensed the tension.
And then everyone had gone their separate ways and Kurt had seemed upset. Burt didn't even try to follow him. Which meant… which meant Burt probably knew why Kurt was upset… but then why didn't he go talk to him?
Confused and still feeling that nagging feeling, he paused his game and sighed. He reluctantly stood up and made his way back upstairs. Burt was still sitting in the kitchen, his head in his hands.
"Hey, uh, Burt?" Finn said.
Burt's head shot up and he looked at Finn, startled.
"Um… are… do… is Kurt ok?" Finn stammered.
"He's… yeah, buddy, he's ok." Burt said, a small smile forming on his face. "I think just… missing his meds for a night made him a little headachy and grumpy."
"Oh… ok." Finn said. He should have known it was something simple like that. Kurt was always sensitive to these things. "I'm gonna go see if he needs anything."
"Thanks, Finn." Burt stood up and streched a little. "I think I'm gonna head in to the shop… finish up a few jobs."
Finn went upstairs to Kurt's room and knocked on the door.
"Yeah?" was the muffled response from within the room.
"Uhh hey, you ok? Do you need anything? Burt said you might have a headache."
"He said… no. No, I'm fine… thanks."
"Ok… are you su-"
"I'm sure. Thanks though."
Finn shrugged and wandered back downstairs, resuming his alien blasting.
With a sigh, he opened the bottle and poured the pills into his hand.
I can do this… I can do this… I will make him proud.
He looked in the mirror again. It would be hard. It would be a long, painful process, but it was a small price to pay.
He checked his list again. Hair. Clothes. Voice. Blaine. Oh, god, Blaine… that would be the hardest. Glee?
5 things. 5 things that, for the most part, weren't even really that influential on his life, if he really sat back and thought about it. Except Blaine… oh god, Blaine.
It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt so, so bad. And he might never be able to forgive himself… but it was for his dad…
He rolled the pill between his fingers. Just because this was happening didn't mean he had to remember. He would know soon enough. He would see the results… but he didn't want to remember. He never wanted to remember that it was all because of him. There were some things he would never forget, like the talk with his dad… but he didn't have to remember this. He didn't have to remember any of it.
He swallowed the pill and took one last look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair. He brushed it. And then he grabbed the scissors of his vanity, and he started cutting it.
Rated T for homophobic language and angst.
Enjoy!
Treenbeen