Touch So Foreign, Part One
Pairing: Kurtofsky
Genre(s): Tragedy, Angst, Romance, Drama, Supernatural
Rating: PG-16
Disclaimer: Yeah, so I don't own shit.
Summary: "It's surprising (and just a tad bit disconcerting, possibly terrifying) how easy it is to forget someone when they're looking you straight in the face."
Part One
And I’m afraid to sleep
‘Cause if I do, I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
There’s a certain grotesque part of your brain that forces you to watch any type of disaster. The pickup truck’s tires squealed and thudded on the wet gravel, creating this horrible screech that Dave would have nightmares about for years to come. Kurt’s body hit the hood of a trunk with a terrible thud, bouncing off the windshield and over the roof.
Someone, a girl, screamed behind him. Dave’s mouth opened and he tried desperately to do something - to scream for help, to cry, or anything. His face was wet; had he stepped out in the rain? Dave raised a trembling hand to his face. Not rain, then.
Suddenly he was running down the steps down to the road. He dropped to his knees in front of Kurt. His eyes were open, but they weren’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.
“Kurt?” Dave whispered. More people were screaming. Someone was calling 911. Dave just reached down and nudged Kurt’s shoulder. “Kurt?” He shook the prone boy. “Kurt.”
The truck driver stumbled out, legs quivering. He had a crew cut and a baby face. “I-I-I’m so s-sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t-t see him, I couldn’t s-stop.”
“You’re sorry?” Dave repeated tonelessly. He stalked over, hands curling into fists. Dave punched the little snot in the face; the kid didn’t make any move to stop him. “You’re sorry? How the fuck you apologize for running somebody over, dumbass!?” Dave screeched, voice breaking. Karofsky hit him in the face and blood started gushing out of his nose. Dave just kept throwing punches and the boy just kept taking them, until an adult finally came out to see what the fuck was the matter.
Fucking figures it would be Sylvester.
“What the hell-” Coach Sylvester grabbed him and pinned Dave’s arms behind his back. “-do you think you’re doing, lurch?”
That was about the time that Hudson had practically flown out the doors, screaming bloody murder, the glee kids hot on his tail. Finn took one look at Sue holding Dave back and his face snarled into rage.
“What did you do, Karofsky?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Dave spat, struggling against the coach’s grasp. He lifted his leg up and kicked the truck in front of him as hard as he could physically manage before letting out another enraged scream. “Goddamnit!”
Hudson and the others finally managed to take in the scene at hand: the bloody teen, the cracked windshield, and the body of -
oh God
Coach Sylvester seemed to finally see it too, because she suddenly couldn’t throw Dave away fast enough. She got on the ground next to Kurt’s - Kurt, and moved to check for a pulse. “Porcelain...?” she whispered, nearly silent. Red and white and blue lights began flashing all around him. Coach Sylvester was barking at students left and right, trying to get them to clear the way.
“He’s still got a pulse!” she yelled at the paramedics, stepping back to let them gingerly slide him onto a stretcher. She looked down at her hands; they were covered in blood.
Someone set their hand on Dave’s shoulder and he flinched violently, moving to sock someone in the mouth.
“Easy there, son,” the officer soothed. “You alright?”
Dave opened his mouth to say Are you insane of course I’m not alright but all that came out was a terrified whine as his face crumpled and he began to cry.
“Caveman here probably broke his foot,” Sylvester commented, hands behind her back. “He should get that checked out. I’ll take him.”
When she said it, it didn’t sound like an offer.
“We have a few questions for him - he’s the witness -”
“He’s in shock you simple minded waste of my air. The boy just saw his classmate gunned down in front of his very own eyes and you want to question him?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him away. “Come on, let’s go see Pear Hips, okay?”
Dave couldn’t bring himself to do anything but nod.
It was the little details especially that Dave couldn’t erase from his mind. Like the way the raindrops slid across Kurt’s cheeks as he stood out in the parking lot. Or how Kurt’s mouth opened in shock as he hit the safety glass. The little speckle of blood on his lips. The one button that was missing from his vest.
“These x rays are pretty impressive, Mr. Karofsky. How did you manage to break your foot quite like this?”
“Can I see Kurt?” Dave asked, staring out the window at the rain drops hitting the window. pane
drip
drip
drip
“How about we get you in a cast first?” the doctor asked congenially, setting down his clipboard.
“I’d rather just go see Kurt first.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment,” the doctor apologized, letting out a low sigh.
“He’s still in surgery,” Paul Karofsky told Dave, looking at his cellphone screen with a pained expression.
“Then I will go wait in the ICU waiting room.”
“David...” Paul started. “Can you just give him the twenty minutes it takes to put the cast on? We can sit in the waiting room after, alright?”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Dave muttered.
The doctor smiled slightly and opened his mouth, but before he could speak Paul fixed him with a level glare. “Don’t you dare ask him about colors right now,” he mouthed.
The doctor held his hands up in surrender.
There were literally over twenty people in the ICU waiting room and all of them were for Kurt. Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson-Hummel were pacing every inch of the room, clinging to each other. Dave stood right at the entrance, frozen in fear. Should he go in? Dave wasn’t so sure. The glee kids all hated him, nobody would want him there nobody would-
A pale hand broke through the haze and Dave looked up from the ground and into the wide, shaken eyes of Brittany.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, interlacing her fingers. “I’m scared. Is Kurt going to die?”
“No,” Dave insisted adamantly, though whether he was trying to convince Brittany or himself, he wasn’t so sure. “Kurt’s strong; he’ll get through this...”
“He will?” Brittany’s eyes began to fill with liquid.
“He will,” Dave promised her. Then without another word he pulled her into a tight embrace and just stood there in the middle of the waiting room, hugging the only girl he’d ever really considered his friend.
About three hours later, Dave’s painkillers were starting to wear off and he could feel the bite of his broken foot again. Ignoring his crutches, he stood up and stretched his arms up above his head. Brittany had fallen asleep on Santana’s shoulder about half an hour ago.
“I’m going for a walk,” Dave told Santana quietly. “Will you call me if there’s any news?”
Santana nodded slowly, stroking Britt’s blonde hair back. “No problem, Karofsky.” She pressed her lips together tightly. “It’s just not right. Dumpster tosses are one thing, but an actual accident? I.” She stopped herself. “I’ll call you if we hear anything.”
“Thanks,” Dave exhaled, hobbling out towards the elevator. It seemed as though his entire body was just running on auto pilot and he couldn’t seem to snap himself out of it. Dave didn’t stop walking until he was outside in front of a little gazebo on the side of the hospital. He plopped down heavily on a stone bench. “This day sucks,” he groaned, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. His eyes began to shut of their own accord and Dave jerked himself upright. He smacked his face. “Wake up, damn it.”
The air suddenly began to crackle around him. The colors were muted and Dave couldn’t hear a sound. He opened his mouth to scream and discovered he couldn’t speak either. Dave’s world exploded all around him. ‘Ha! Talk about irony,’ Dave thought as his head nearly hit the concrete. Stars invaded his vision for a moment and the jock struggled to move into an upright position. When the floor stopped spinning, Dave peered up
and into the eyes of one Kurt Hummel.
Genre(s): Tragedy, Angst, Romance, Drama, Supernatural
Rating: PG-16
Disclaimer: Yeah, so I don't own shit.
Summary: "It's surprising (and just a tad bit disconcerting, possibly terrifying) how easy it is to forget someone when they're looking you straight in the face."
Part One
And I’m afraid to sleep
‘Cause if I do, I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
There’s a certain grotesque part of your brain that forces you to watch any type of disaster. The pickup truck’s tires squealed and thudded on the wet gravel, creating this horrible screech that Dave would have nightmares about for years to come. Kurt’s body hit the hood of a trunk with a terrible thud, bouncing off the windshield and over the roof.
Someone, a girl, screamed behind him. Dave’s mouth opened and he tried desperately to do something - to scream for help, to cry, or anything. His face was wet; had he stepped out in the rain? Dave raised a trembling hand to his face. Not rain, then.
Suddenly he was running down the steps down to the road. He dropped to his knees in front of Kurt. His eyes were open, but they weren’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.
“Kurt?” Dave whispered. More people were screaming. Someone was calling 911. Dave just reached down and nudged Kurt’s shoulder. “Kurt?” He shook the prone boy. “Kurt.”
The truck driver stumbled out, legs quivering. He had a crew cut and a baby face. “I-I-I’m so s-sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t-t see him, I couldn’t s-stop.”
“You’re sorry?” Dave repeated tonelessly. He stalked over, hands curling into fists. Dave punched the little snot in the face; the kid didn’t make any move to stop him. “You’re sorry? How the fuck you apologize for running somebody over, dumbass!?” Dave screeched, voice breaking. Karofsky hit him in the face and blood started gushing out of his nose. Dave just kept throwing punches and the boy just kept taking them, until an adult finally came out to see what the fuck was the matter.
Fucking figures it would be Sylvester.
“What the hell-” Coach Sylvester grabbed him and pinned Dave’s arms behind his back. “-do you think you’re doing, lurch?”
That was about the time that Hudson had practically flown out the doors, screaming bloody murder, the glee kids hot on his tail. Finn took one look at Sue holding Dave back and his face snarled into rage.
“What did you do, Karofsky?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Dave spat, struggling against the coach’s grasp. He lifted his leg up and kicked the truck in front of him as hard as he could physically manage before letting out another enraged scream. “Goddamnit!”
Hudson and the others finally managed to take in the scene at hand: the bloody teen, the cracked windshield, and the body of -
oh God
Coach Sylvester seemed to finally see it too, because she suddenly couldn’t throw Dave away fast enough. She got on the ground next to Kurt’s - Kurt, and moved to check for a pulse. “Porcelain...?” she whispered, nearly silent. Red and white and blue lights began flashing all around him. Coach Sylvester was barking at students left and right, trying to get them to clear the way.
“He’s still got a pulse!” she yelled at the paramedics, stepping back to let them gingerly slide him onto a stretcher. She looked down at her hands; they were covered in blood.
Someone set their hand on Dave’s shoulder and he flinched violently, moving to sock someone in the mouth.
“Easy there, son,” the officer soothed. “You alright?”
Dave opened his mouth to say Are you insane of course I’m not alright but all that came out was a terrified whine as his face crumpled and he began to cry.
“Caveman here probably broke his foot,” Sylvester commented, hands behind her back. “He should get that checked out. I’ll take him.”
When she said it, it didn’t sound like an offer.
“We have a few questions for him - he’s the witness -”
“He’s in shock you simple minded waste of my air. The boy just saw his classmate gunned down in front of his very own eyes and you want to question him?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him away. “Come on, let’s go see Pear Hips, okay?”
Dave couldn’t bring himself to do anything but nod.
It was the little details especially that Dave couldn’t erase from his mind. Like the way the raindrops slid across Kurt’s cheeks as he stood out in the parking lot. Or how Kurt’s mouth opened in shock as he hit the safety glass. The little speckle of blood on his lips. The one button that was missing from his vest.
“These x rays are pretty impressive, Mr. Karofsky. How did you manage to break your foot quite like this?”
“Can I see Kurt?” Dave asked, staring out the window at the rain drops hitting the window. pane
drip
drip
drip
“How about we get you in a cast first?” the doctor asked congenially, setting down his clipboard.
“I’d rather just go see Kurt first.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment,” the doctor apologized, letting out a low sigh.
“He’s still in surgery,” Paul Karofsky told Dave, looking at his cellphone screen with a pained expression.
“Then I will go wait in the ICU waiting room.”
“David...” Paul started. “Can you just give him the twenty minutes it takes to put the cast on? We can sit in the waiting room after, alright?”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Dave muttered.
The doctor smiled slightly and opened his mouth, but before he could speak Paul fixed him with a level glare. “Don’t you dare ask him about colors right now,” he mouthed.
The doctor held his hands up in surrender.
There were literally over twenty people in the ICU waiting room and all of them were for Kurt. Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson-Hummel were pacing every inch of the room, clinging to each other. Dave stood right at the entrance, frozen in fear. Should he go in? Dave wasn’t so sure. The glee kids all hated him, nobody would want him there nobody would-
A pale hand broke through the haze and Dave looked up from the ground and into the wide, shaken eyes of Brittany.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, interlacing her fingers. “I’m scared. Is Kurt going to die?”
“No,” Dave insisted adamantly, though whether he was trying to convince Brittany or himself, he wasn’t so sure. “Kurt’s strong; he’ll get through this...”
“He will?” Brittany’s eyes began to fill with liquid.
“He will,” Dave promised her. Then without another word he pulled her into a tight embrace and just stood there in the middle of the waiting room, hugging the only girl he’d ever really considered his friend.
About three hours later, Dave’s painkillers were starting to wear off and he could feel the bite of his broken foot again. Ignoring his crutches, he stood up and stretched his arms up above his head. Brittany had fallen asleep on Santana’s shoulder about half an hour ago.
“I’m going for a walk,” Dave told Santana quietly. “Will you call me if there’s any news?”
Santana nodded slowly, stroking Britt’s blonde hair back. “No problem, Karofsky.” She pressed her lips together tightly. “It’s just not right. Dumpster tosses are one thing, but an actual accident? I.” She stopped herself. “I’ll call you if we hear anything.”
“Thanks,” Dave exhaled, hobbling out towards the elevator. It seemed as though his entire body was just running on auto pilot and he couldn’t seem to snap himself out of it. Dave didn’t stop walking until he was outside in front of a little gazebo on the side of the hospital. He plopped down heavily on a stone bench. “This day sucks,” he groaned, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. His eyes began to shut of their own accord and Dave jerked himself upright. He smacked his face. “Wake up, damn it.”
The air suddenly began to crackle around him. The colors were muted and Dave couldn’t hear a sound. He opened his mouth to scream and discovered he couldn’t speak either. Dave’s world exploded all around him. ‘Ha! Talk about irony,’ Dave thought as his head nearly hit the concrete. Stars invaded his vision for a moment and the jock struggled to move into an upright position. When the floor stopped spinning, Dave peered up
and into the eyes of one Kurt Hummel.