Dependable. Reliable. Chapter Three (part 2)
Title: Dependable. Reliable. Chapter 3(b)/?
Author: Pulpobsessed.
Pairing: Dave/OC. Eventually Dave/Kurt
Characters: This chapter: Dave Karofsky. Rachel Berry, Emma Pillsbury-Howell, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: 10 years after graduation. Dave is an openly gay man, living in Washington, DC, after a heartbreaking and soul crushing break up, he suddenly finds himself facing McKinley high and his past.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. Not me.
A/N. Ok - this chapter took me forever. Since i have not been a 17 year old boy in about 17 years! I found it really hard to write these scenes. But since I identify with Dave quite a lot, I found that once I remembered how I was at 17, the words just flowed. Yes, the Gleeks make an appearance here - in flashback. I hope I got Rachel's voice right. I'll be working on chapter four tonight. I have some rather interesting plans for it....I hope to include at least one more flashback in it too. Hope you enjoy this one, though.
Chapter 1 community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/239119.html#cutid1
Chapter 2 community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/242625.html#cutid1
Chapter 3(a) community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/245532.html#cutid1
Chapter 3 (b)
Hours later, after Jess had gone home, Dave was unloading the dishwasher. He had changed into a pair of sweat pants and a cut off t-shirt. In the background he had put on his favorite Snow Patrol album - A Hundred Million Stars. Dave felt kinda normal... although he was no where near normal, emotionally, at least he felt like he was doing something normal people do - tidying up after having their best friend over for dinner. Sure, he’d spent a couple hours of the evening in a near state of hysteria, but hey that’s how these things go...
But it felt nice to just be doing something that did not involve feeling crazy or tears or all those other things heartbreak brings.
Once the dishes were put away. Dave had poured himself a final glass of wine and had grand plans to watch some trashy late night movie on TV. As he passed the kitchen table, Dave stopped. The McKinley High yearbook. He must have put it back on the kitchen table after dinner. Without thinking about it, he grabbed it and took both the wine and book over to the couch.
The music had switched over to Billie Holliday. This was pretty good memory lane type music. He sipped at his wine and flipped through his year book. Smiling occasionally. Grimacing once or twice. Even laughing out loud. They were all there.
Hudson. Mercedes. Puck. Brittany. Santana. Rachel. Tina. Mike. Sam. Quinn. Lauren. Artie.
Az.
And Kurt.
Dave’s fingers ghosted over Kurt’s face. As it had been back then. Smiling. Happy. Kurt on stage... grinning. Grinning at him.
They were all there - on stage. Except Az. Of course.
Dave gripped the book. That last year at McKinley had been the best he’d had. He’d had real friends - not just Az and the other footballers by association. He flipped the page - there was a picture of him and Hudson, singing. The Killers. That had been a big day... so much had ridden on that performance. It had been his redeeming performance.
******
*Ten Years ago*
The choir room smelled. It smelled like piano - that distinctive woody lacquered smell. But underneath that, there was a hint of teenage sweat, perfume, and pine cleaning solution. After spending enough time in the room, you kinda got used to the smell. It just became part of your everyday experience.
The first time Dave had walked into the room...it had nearly over powered him. This time, however, he had been too nervous to even really notice it. Today he was doing his first big performance with the glee club. As an official member.
After resisting Finn’s attempts to get him to join for months after the half-time show extravaganza, he had one day been walking past the choir room and heard the glee club doing a Snow Patrol song. Snow Patrol was probably his favorite band of all time - he loved them. So, naturally, he stopped and listened. He could see through the window in the door. He watched Finn and Santana dance around each other belting out the lyrics to ‘You’re All I Have.’ He realized half way through that he was singing along with them - in his mind’s eye he was in Finn’s place. Belting out the lyrics and moving his body to the music. He realized he was swaying in time to the music. He was totally absorbed.
“You could come in and join us, you know.”
He spun around. His heart in his throat.
Rachel Berry stood there. A book clutched to her chest. Her dark hair was held back by a head band. She was wearing a bright red sweater over top a black button up shirt. She wore a pencil skirt that reached down to just about her knees. And on her feet she wore a simple pair of ballet flats. Dave never really got why people made fun of how she dressed, he always thought that she dressed quite nicely. At least she knew how to put together an outfit - which he could not exactly say the same for himself. And yeah... Dave noticed clothes. So fucking what?
“Whatever.” He mumbled.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?” Dave could actually feel his blood pressure rising. How dare this little shit talk back to him...
“Hide.”
“Huh?” He struggled with the urge to shove her - the urge to flatten her.
“I asked you a question. And it was as if you just put on a whole uniform of body armor. Like talking to me or even considering what I just said would cause you some kind of bodily harm. You hide behind your anger - like a forcefield. Being an angerball won’t make things better for you, David.”
“Look midget, I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”
“You were standing out here singing along and kinda dancing. Both of which you’re good at, by the way. Well... nothing close to my caliber, but then again, who is.”
“You’re a bitch, you know?”
“I am quite aware that my talents and status as a diva have meant that I can appear like a bitch. But I am just being honest. Both with you and myself. You have talent...I have more talent.”
“Why are you talking to me?”
“Because...well, because you looked like you really wanted to walk inside that room, I just thought that maybe I could give you the encouragement you need to do it.”
“I’m not joining your little faggy love in.”
“David, may I ask you a question?”
“Whatever.”
“There you go again, hiding. Putting your guard up.”
“What’s your question? Before I introduce you to the floor.”
“Do you think Puckerman is any less of a man?”
“Huh?”
“Is Puck a man?”
“Unless he’s not telling us something...yeah.”
“But he’s in glee, right?”
“Uh yeah.”
“And he can entice anyone he wants into bed, right? Which makes him pretty manly.”
“If you mean he can bang any girl he wants, then yeah, I guess so.”
“Wow, and answer longer then 3 syllables. So, how exactly does glee make him ‘faggy’?
Dave shrugged. She was giving him the argument he had trouble getting around every time he had this discussion with himself in his head.
“Dave. Joining glee and singing and dancing...it won’t make you any less of a man.”
Dave stood silently, glaring at her. Letting his anger radiate off of him. He was a man. And no, he thought, singing a fucking song won’t make him less of one... but it might mean that someone might see how much he likes it. Show off a crack in his skin... and the thing he tried so hard to hide would shine through. And that terrified him. He wanted to shove her away from him, he wanted to run. He wanted to punch a locker. His hands curled into tights fists. He was shaking.
“Dave. We accept anyone. Everyone. Even with the awful things you’ve done... we’d help you work out why you did that. Maybe having a creative outlet would help you deal. Would help you not be so angry. Please just...think about it. We’re here for you. No matter what, we’re here and we’ll accept you. Plus, you might help us win Regionals.”
With that Rachel brushed past him and walked into the choir room.
Dave watched the door close behind her. He was still shaking. He was breathing heavily. He could not see quite clearly - it was as if the whole hallway had become hazy. He needed to do something. Anything. He felt exactly like he had that day... in the locker room. His whole body was going to explode in a burst of frantic anger if he did not act. He spun around and slammed his fist into the nearest locker...”FUCK!”
As the pain of flesh slamming against metal shot up his arm and into his shoulder, the anger slowly dissipated. And his entire body sagged. The only thing keeping him upright was his extended arm pressing into the locker.
A noise behind him - fuck what was with people sneaking up on him today - brought him back to his senses. “Er. Um... Mr. Karofsky....David....may I talk to you for a moment?”
He turned around and was faced with the quiet, demure face of Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell. Uh oh.
“Uh. Sure. I guess.” He was too depleted to put up much of a fight.
“Do you often hit things? Well, by that, I...um...mean...do you often get angry and need to hit things to calm down?”
“I dunno.”
Dave stood there. Body trying to fold into itself. He had been caught in his most shameful act of self-preservation. The only way he knew to actually be normal was to hide everything about himself that he knew no one wanted to see behind this massive bulkhead of anger.
Shit. He really wanted to go home now.
“Dave. May I call you that?”
“Sure.”
Mrs. Pillsbury stepped forward, “I’m worried about you, Dave.” And with that she reached out and did something Dave was not expecting. Did not know how to handle. Did not how to compute. It was exactly what he didn’t need and it was exactly what he DID need. She touched his arm.
An adult had reached out and touched him. He was not being ignored. He was not being yelled at for letting his grades go. He was not being made fun of. Someone had expressed concern. Someone had said they care.
At that exact moment, the walls broke. The cracks in the armor became too much - and both the armor and he shattered.
And without meaning to - because Dave Karofsky would never let this happen if he had been in control - Dave started to cry. Big heavy tears slid silently down his face. And his body began to shake. It was too much... the anger. The hiding. The shame. It was too much... and all he needed was someone to honestly, without bias, express concern. He just let go. He finally just let go.
“Ok.” Mrs. Pillbury said in that soft comforting manner she was so good at. “Let’s go back to my office and talk.”
*******
The sessions started that week. They happened daily. At first, Dave and Emma would sit and stare silently at each other. Then an hour later, Dave would stand, mutter “Thanks.” and leave. The next day, at exactly Three fifteen, he would be back in that same chair. Staring at her.
She never got tired or irritated. She never forced him to say anything to her. She waited quietly for him to say something to her. Dozens of emotions would play over Dave’s features. Fear. Sadness. Angst. Grief. Anger...above all else, anger appeared the most on his face. But regardless of what Dave looked like, or did. Or how he acted... she sat quietly and waited for him to speak.
It took two weeks. Then one day, about twenty minutes after he had sat down, Dave said something. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, David?”
“Sorry for...everything.”
“May I ask you to be a little more specific?”
Dave’s face twisted itself into a look of anguish. As though there was a storm of emotions writhing beneath the surface. Emotions that threatened to over take him. That threatened to consume him. Emma was not sure if she was going to get a response or suddenly face an enraged boy who could not control his rage. Emma watched the internal battle that was happening in front of her.
“Will you tell anyone?”
“Dave, I promise that everything we say here will be completely confidential.”
“Ok.”
Dave stared at his hands again. Then he looked up. Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s wide open, generous eyes stared back at him. He suddenly started talking. It was as thought nothing was going to stop him.
He talked about how much he hated those in school who had ways of expressing themselves. He hated the other jocks in the school who made racist, homophobic jokes. How he hated having to come to school every day.
He talked about how much he hated himself.
It was with that statement that he left. Without another word. He just got up and left.
3:30 the next day... Dave knocked on Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s door. He walked in. Sat down. And looked at her.
“I’ve been worried about you since yesterday Dave.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing. Would you like to talk about what you said yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you hate yourself?”
“For being who I am.”
“And, what are you?”
“I... uh” Dave’s anger started to rise. Why couldn’t she see it. Why couldn’t she just understand what he was trying to say to her! He didn’t want to have to say it. He just wanted her to understand, to care about him. He started to close up. He wanted to lock himself up... Fuck her for not getting it. Fuck her for not just understanding what he was trying to tell her.
“Ok. Dave...I understand that this is hard. I want to help you. Why don’t I ask you some questions and you can just answer them?”
Dave looked up - he was trying to pull as much of himself into himself as he could. His entire body felt...tight.
“Ok.” It was barely audible.
“Do you like playing football?”
“Kinda. Yeah. I’m good at it.”
“Ok. That’s good. Do you like your friends?”
“Sometimes. They aren’t always very nice.”
“Do you like your family?”
“Yeah - but they are so busy, I never get to see my mom. She’s a doctor and is always working.”
“Do you like school?”
“I do. That’s the funny part - I’m good at school too. Until my grades went to shit. But I like it.”
“Good! Do you like to sing?”
“I think I sound stupid when I sing. But it feels good.”
“Did you enjoy dancing in Thriller?”
“Yeah. I did. I felt good.”
“Do you think you could express yourself by dancing?”
“Maybe.”
“Would you hate glee club less if you did?”
“Maybe.”
“Why did you bully Kurt?”
“Wha...!” She wasn’t supposed to ask about Kurt. She wasn’t supposed to bring that up. Dave’s face went red. He started to feel himself closing up...started to disappear into Karofsky. He felt that white hot rage starting to blind him again.
“Dave.” She reached out and touched him. It was a gamble, but one she was willing to take. “Take a deep breath. Try to calm down. I want you to breath in through your noise and out through your mouth. Just try, ok?”
Dave closed his eyes and did as she asked. He started to feel that blinding rage recede.
“I hate what I did to him.” Dave’s voice was low, it sounded like someone had reached into his throat and ripped the words from him. “I was... scared. I didn’t know...I tried not to.” Dave put his face into his hands.
“Why are you scared Dave?”
“Because of who I am.”
Emma said nothing in response. She just looked at him, willing him to meet her eyes. When she did, she understood. The guard had slipped. The cracks had opened enough to show her what she needed.
“Dave? May I give you something?”
“What?” His voice was utterly drained.
“A phone number. It’s like a help line, but not really. It’s more like a place where teenagers or young people can call and talk...about whatever they want. I would like to give you that number, ok? You don’t have to talk to them. But I want you to have the option, at least. Would that be ok, with you?”
Dave nodded. Emma slipped a piece of paper across the desk. It had a number on it the words Trevor Project. Dave took it and put it in his pocket. He was shaking. “May I go, Mrs. Pillsbury?”
“Yes, David. You may.”
Dave stood, picked up his backpack and walked out of her office.
Four weeks passed before she saw Dave again.
Dave opened her door - Emma sat alone in her office. She had reserved the same time every day, just in case - he walked in, and stook awkwardly in her doorway. Emma nodded at him. He sat down across from her and took a deep breath. “I called the number.”
“Do you feel comfortable talking to me about it?”
“I want to join glee.”
“Oh. Ok. Well we can make that happen...”
“I want to apologize to them. All of them.”
“Ok.”
“Mrs. Pillsbury...”
“Yes, Dave.”
“I’m...”
There was a heavy silence in the office. Emma did not want to break Dave out of his confessional state. Whatever had happened when he called that number had changed him. He was still closed off. Still pulled into himself, but he was trying to expose himself even just a little. All her training told her to stay silent and let him do this on his own.
“I’m...gay.”
He looked shocked. As thought he was totally unprepared for actually saying the word. Then a smile slowly spread over his face. A genuine smile.
“This was the first time you’ve said it to someone who was not on the other end of a phone wasn’t it?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Dave, I promise I will not say a word to anyone... the first rule in dealing with coming out is that it is your thing to do, you choose when and who to tell.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you like to still talk to me about things?”
“Yeah. I’m still scared.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Being bullied, I guess.”
“Who do you think will bully you?”
“The other guys on the football team. I guess I don’t want to get kicked off.”
“Do you think Coach Beiste will do that?”
“No, but the guys...”
“Well, Dave, no one needs to know. Only those you want to know.”
“I want to tell Kurt.”
“Ok. I think that will help the situation.”
“Will he still hate me?”
“I don’t know Dave. But I suspect he might be willing to talk to you. You telling him is a huge admission. He might come to understand some of what happened.”
“I want to try and be a better person.”
“And I think that you’ve made a really big step towards that. I’m proud of you Dave, you should be proud of yourself.”
“Thanks.” Dave blushed heavily. “Will you talk to Mr. Schue for me? I want to talk to Hudson - he said he would help me get into glee.”
“I promise that together we will help get you into glee.”
“Thanks.”
Dave just sat there for the next little while. As though he needed the sense of quiet to gather his thoughts and just deal with what had happened.
An hour later, he got his bag, stood up and muttered another “Thanks”, and he was gone.
Two weeks later... David entered the choir room for the first time - as a glee member.
***********
And here he was, a month later. Ready to perform. He was only mildly freaking out. Ok, maybe a bit more than mildly. He was really freaking out. He was about to perform a Killers song - ‘Smile Like You Mean It’ - a song that seemed to scream out to him. Dave realized that he had for a long time been smiling like he meant it... and now for the first time he was actually smiling, not pretending. Suddenly now he had a new way of expressing himself. He could get up on a stage and sing and dance. For the few moments that he was up there, he forgot he was David Karofsky at all. He forgot he was this closeted gay teen, who still did not have a sense of who he was in the world.
But today... well today... he was not just performing for the rest of the club. Today he was actually singing for the entire school. He was going to go stand out there in front of the whole football team - in front of Az - and he was going to sing. He was going to sing like he had never sung before. He was going to dance. Dance like he had never danced before.
And he was fucking scared out of his mind.
“You ready for this?”
He turned around to face Berry. The small girl had become his biggest supporter, his number one advocate in the club from the start. As soon as he had stepped into the choir room and told them that he wanted to join, she had jumped up and welcomed him with open arms. He was not exactly sure why - it must have had something to do with the talk they’d had almost two months earlier.
While the rest of the club - except for Finn - seemed to need a lot of time before they really accepted him, Rachel did not mind helping him work on his songs. Or on dancing - which he actually was a bit of a natural at. He had apologized to her right away.
And they had actually become something that could resemble friends... weird.
“No. I don’t think I’m ready for this at all.”
“Come on Dave. You’ve worked so hard the last month, you’re going to be great. We’ve performed this on the stage before, its just like the rehearsal, only with people there.”
“I know, Berry, but its just...different. It’s not the half-time show. Its a whole different thing.”
“Dave - I keep telling you, you have talent. So just go up there and show them how awesome you are.”
“You know a few months ago, your pep talks would have...”
“Turned you into an anger-ball?”
“Yeah. And what is an anger-ball anyways?”
“You should watch Playing By Heart... great movie.”
“Uh. Ok.”
“Now, come on - lets get out there and wow the untalented plebs of this school.”
“Careful - I used to be one of those plebs you know.”
She reached out and grab his forearm and pulled him forward.
Dave joined Puck and Finn and Sam, who were waiting to surge the stage and belt out the opening lines of the song. Finn turned to look at Dave, smiling. “You good, dude?”
“Yeah. Haven’t puked yet.”
“Sweet!”
“I think Finn is hoping that this song will up his sex appeal.” Puck muttered. “Like he doesn’t get enough tail as it is.”
“Dude, you’re just jealous cause Lauren still won’t putt out.” Finn shot back.
“Hudson!” Lauren roared at him from the line of girls behind him, “I will flatten you like a pancake if you don’t shut that enormous pitt of a boy hole.”
Finn mumbled something in response that Dave did not quite hear.
“Ok, guys!” Mr. Schue yelled, “Here we go!”
And suddenly Dave was on stage. Suddenly Dave’s body was moving. To a rhythm. Suddenly Dave was singing - and he could tell that they liked it.
“GO DAVE!” Someone yelled... he was not sure if it was Azimo or some other footballer or someone else... but he had a fan!
He worked it.
He rocked it.
And he had fun. He was totally loving it. There was nothing but the moment - the experience of being on stage. He was free to be whomever he wanted to be. He was Dave. Just Dave.
He glanced out at the audience once - Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell was smiling at him from the front row. He owed her big time. He could see Mr. Schue, also beaming at him, at his whole club.
He couldn’t see Az though. He wondered what his friend thought of him at this moment. The guy had not taken the news of his glee membership super well. But fuck him, right?
Suddenly it was over, and they were backstage again. Clapping each other on the back. Hugging. He hugged Berry.
“See! You were great!”
“Thanks Berry.” He smiled at her.
Finn came out of nowhere and hugged him tightly. Dave was not exactly used to being in such close proximity to another guy without football padding... he had to think very unsexy thoughts to contain his physical excitement at the sensation.
When Finn broke away, he grinned at Dave. “Man you were awesome out there. I am so glad that you did this. You’re good. Congrats man!” And with that the other boy wandered away.
Dave quickly changed out of his costume and left the auditorium. The hallway was empty. He made his way to his locker, he had to get to Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s office for their meeting that day. She wanted to talk to him about the performance, and make sure that he was doing ok after it.
Suddenly Az was there - standing in front of him. The two guys stared at each other. Az was the first to speak.
“I liked it.”
“Um, thanks man.”
“I don’t really get why you joined that faggy club.”
“It’s not faggy, ok. Its just a fun club. Ok?”
“Whatever. Dude. You looked good up there.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see ya.” And Dave found himself watching Azimo’s disappearing back.
Dave shook his head. Well that was... odd. He grabbed his bag and headed towards Mrs. Pillsbury. As he rounded the corner to her office. He was stopped by another voice.
“You did a great job, Dave.”
Kurt Hummel was standing behind him, clutching his bag in his usual stance. As though the bag could be used like some powerful weapon or shield against Dave’s evil forces.
Holy fuck. Kurt Hummel was standing there. Kurt Hummel was TALKING to him. Kurt was using his first name! Ok, Dave, calm down. Be cool Dave. Be Cool. Just focus. You’ve talked to Mrs. Pillsbury about this happening for weeks now. You’ve talked to Jeff at the Trevor Project about this - be cool. Be calm. Don’t get upset - angry or emotional. Just be normal.
And remember to breathe. But breathing when you are scared to death... not an easy thing to do.
Shit, he’s staring at me. Why is he staring at me. Right, I need to respond to him. I need to say something. Say something...anything.
“Um. Hi. Er....t-t-thanks.”
“I, uh, can’t stay long. Finn is waiting for me - we have to go meet my dad and Carol, but I came to see you perform. I really liked it. Wouldn’t have been my first choice. I’m not a big fan of new rock or whatever The Killers are... but you all looked good.”
“You came to see me?”
“I did. Finn’s told me all about the work you’ve been doing. I wanted to see what’s come of it. I mean I didn’t come to see you only... I wanted to see the whole gang perform. But...I dunno...it seemed kinda important that I see what you’ve done with yourself. It was good.”
“Kurt...I...I”
“I know you want to talk. I got your email. Its just that...”
“I still scare you.”
“You... make me hesitate.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“It means I just need...time.”
Tell him... TELL HIM....Dave’s voice dropped. To a near whisper. “I came out - to myself at least. And to Mrs. Pillsbury. And I’ve been calling The Trevor Project.”
The look on Kurt’s face was one of obvious shock and surprise - clearly he had not been expecting that. “Oh. Well. Wow. That’s fantastic. I’m glad to hear that. I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
“Yes, Dave. I am. Despite everything we’ve said and done to each other... I still want to see you be, well happy and healthy, I guess.”
“Thanks. But you never did anything to me - I was the one who...” There was an obvious hint of hard emotion in Dave’s voice, he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Look, Dave. I’m not ready to have this talk. I know you need to. But I just need to have a little more time. Can we take this thing slow?”
“Yeah.” Dave’s voice was starting to crack. “That sounds good. Thank you for not ignoring me. Thank you.”
Kurt smiled. “No one deserves to be ignored, David. I have to run. Maybe... maybe I’ll email tonight?”
“I’d like that. I have to go in and see Mrs. Pillsbury anyways.”
Kurt looked down at his shoes, then up at Dave again. Nodded. Simply said, “Bye Dave.” And turned sharply on his heel and walked away.
Dave watched him go, and said softly “Bye Kurt.”
*****************
*Present Day*
Dave rubbed his fingers along the stem of the long empty wine glass, caught up in his memories. He could still remember every single conversation he had with Jeff from the Trevor Project. He could still remember the many nights he had spent curled up on his bed crying because of those conversations. He remembered how hard it had been that first time on the phone to say the words, “I’m gay.” But once he had, it had been like a whole new vocabulary had opened up for him - and every word was made up of those syllables.
It had rocked him to the core.
He remembered the crazy questions he’d asked - questions he now hears on a daily basis from the kids he sees at the center. “Is it ok to be gay and not like clothes or musicals or stuff like that?” “Will people stop liking me?” “Will God hate me?” Hundreds of questions. Maybe thousands. All churning around in his head. All slowly breaking down the already leaky dam of his psyche.
Every conversation had been so scary. Every conversation had felt so good. He never wanted them to end. It had been those four weeks that had changed his life - during them he knew that he was going to help kids like him when he grew up. He was going to make a difference.
Because those phone calls changed him. And look at him now - he might not exactly be all there emotionally at the moment, but he was out. He hadn’t hidden who he was since ... well since the end of high school.
He could remember what it felt like to see Kurt that first time after the performance. The fear. The elation at the idea that he was talking to Dave. The idea that maybe it was fixable. He also remembered how he had been worried that he was going to vomit on Kurt’s shoes. He also remembered how excited he’d been in telling Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell about it afterwards.
Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell - he wondered if she was still married to that dentist dude - and the glee club had given him the strength to be someone who he was proud of. It was because of them that he found the Trevor Project, and it was because of them that he had a pretty good life. And he had ran out on them - he had hurt people, and then turned his back on them.
That final kiss... the one that sealed his fate had ruined someone he cared for so deeply. Had hurt so many.
Glee gave him the chance and ability to change once. It could do it again. Dave knew what he had to do. He had to go back - he had to face them. He had to deal with his past. He had to go to the reunion.
But before he did that, he had to try and deal with Adam. Dave had to understand why Adam left. Why Adam cheated. Dave had to find and meet Mr. Mike the Fucking Dentist.
“God,” he he muttered into the empty wineglass, “please don’t let this be a really really fucking bad mistake.”
Author: Pulpobsessed.
Pairing: Dave/OC. Eventually Dave/Kurt
Characters: This chapter: Dave Karofsky. Rachel Berry, Emma Pillsbury-Howell, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: 10 years after graduation. Dave is an openly gay man, living in Washington, DC, after a heartbreaking and soul crushing break up, he suddenly finds himself facing McKinley high and his past.
Genre: FutureFic
Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. Not me.
A/N. Ok - this chapter took me forever. Since i have not been a 17 year old boy in about 17 years! I found it really hard to write these scenes. But since I identify with Dave quite a lot, I found that once I remembered how I was at 17, the words just flowed. Yes, the Gleeks make an appearance here - in flashback. I hope I got Rachel's voice right. I'll be working on chapter four tonight. I have some rather interesting plans for it....I hope to include at least one more flashback in it too. Hope you enjoy this one, though.
Chapter 1 community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/239119.html#cutid1
Chapter 2 community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/242625.html#cutid1
Chapter 3(a) community.livejournal.com/karofsky_hummel/245532.html#cutid1
Chapter 3 (b)
Hours later, after Jess had gone home, Dave was unloading the dishwasher. He had changed into a pair of sweat pants and a cut off t-shirt. In the background he had put on his favorite Snow Patrol album - A Hundred Million Stars. Dave felt kinda normal... although he was no where near normal, emotionally, at least he felt like he was doing something normal people do - tidying up after having their best friend over for dinner. Sure, he’d spent a couple hours of the evening in a near state of hysteria, but hey that’s how these things go...
But it felt nice to just be doing something that did not involve feeling crazy or tears or all those other things heartbreak brings.
Once the dishes were put away. Dave had poured himself a final glass of wine and had grand plans to watch some trashy late night movie on TV. As he passed the kitchen table, Dave stopped. The McKinley High yearbook. He must have put it back on the kitchen table after dinner. Without thinking about it, he grabbed it and took both the wine and book over to the couch.
The music had switched over to Billie Holliday. This was pretty good memory lane type music. He sipped at his wine and flipped through his year book. Smiling occasionally. Grimacing once or twice. Even laughing out loud. They were all there.
Hudson. Mercedes. Puck. Brittany. Santana. Rachel. Tina. Mike. Sam. Quinn. Lauren. Artie.
Az.
And Kurt.
Dave’s fingers ghosted over Kurt’s face. As it had been back then. Smiling. Happy. Kurt on stage... grinning. Grinning at him.
They were all there - on stage. Except Az. Of course.
Dave gripped the book. That last year at McKinley had been the best he’d had. He’d had real friends - not just Az and the other footballers by association. He flipped the page - there was a picture of him and Hudson, singing. The Killers. That had been a big day... so much had ridden on that performance. It had been his redeeming performance.
******
*Ten Years ago*
The choir room smelled. It smelled like piano - that distinctive woody lacquered smell. But underneath that, there was a hint of teenage sweat, perfume, and pine cleaning solution. After spending enough time in the room, you kinda got used to the smell. It just became part of your everyday experience.
The first time Dave had walked into the room...it had nearly over powered him. This time, however, he had been too nervous to even really notice it. Today he was doing his first big performance with the glee club. As an official member.
After resisting Finn’s attempts to get him to join for months after the half-time show extravaganza, he had one day been walking past the choir room and heard the glee club doing a Snow Patrol song. Snow Patrol was probably his favorite band of all time - he loved them. So, naturally, he stopped and listened. He could see through the window in the door. He watched Finn and Santana dance around each other belting out the lyrics to ‘You’re All I Have.’ He realized half way through that he was singing along with them - in his mind’s eye he was in Finn’s place. Belting out the lyrics and moving his body to the music. He realized he was swaying in time to the music. He was totally absorbed.
“You could come in and join us, you know.”
He spun around. His heart in his throat.
Rachel Berry stood there. A book clutched to her chest. Her dark hair was held back by a head band. She was wearing a bright red sweater over top a black button up shirt. She wore a pencil skirt that reached down to just about her knees. And on her feet she wore a simple pair of ballet flats. Dave never really got why people made fun of how she dressed, he always thought that she dressed quite nicely. At least she knew how to put together an outfit - which he could not exactly say the same for himself. And yeah... Dave noticed clothes. So fucking what?
“Whatever.” He mumbled.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?” Dave could actually feel his blood pressure rising. How dare this little shit talk back to him...
“Hide.”
“Huh?” He struggled with the urge to shove her - the urge to flatten her.
“I asked you a question. And it was as if you just put on a whole uniform of body armor. Like talking to me or even considering what I just said would cause you some kind of bodily harm. You hide behind your anger - like a forcefield. Being an angerball won’t make things better for you, David.”
“Look midget, I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”
“You were standing out here singing along and kinda dancing. Both of which you’re good at, by the way. Well... nothing close to my caliber, but then again, who is.”
“You’re a bitch, you know?”
“I am quite aware that my talents and status as a diva have meant that I can appear like a bitch. But I am just being honest. Both with you and myself. You have talent...I have more talent.”
“Why are you talking to me?”
“Because...well, because you looked like you really wanted to walk inside that room, I just thought that maybe I could give you the encouragement you need to do it.”
“I’m not joining your little faggy love in.”
“David, may I ask you a question?”
“Whatever.”
“There you go again, hiding. Putting your guard up.”
“What’s your question? Before I introduce you to the floor.”
“Do you think Puckerman is any less of a man?”
“Huh?”
“Is Puck a man?”
“Unless he’s not telling us something...yeah.”
“But he’s in glee, right?”
“Uh yeah.”
“And he can entice anyone he wants into bed, right? Which makes him pretty manly.”
“If you mean he can bang any girl he wants, then yeah, I guess so.”
“Wow, and answer longer then 3 syllables. So, how exactly does glee make him ‘faggy’?
Dave shrugged. She was giving him the argument he had trouble getting around every time he had this discussion with himself in his head.
“Dave. Joining glee and singing and dancing...it won’t make you any less of a man.”
Dave stood silently, glaring at her. Letting his anger radiate off of him. He was a man. And no, he thought, singing a fucking song won’t make him less of one... but it might mean that someone might see how much he likes it. Show off a crack in his skin... and the thing he tried so hard to hide would shine through. And that terrified him. He wanted to shove her away from him, he wanted to run. He wanted to punch a locker. His hands curled into tights fists. He was shaking.
“Dave. We accept anyone. Everyone. Even with the awful things you’ve done... we’d help you work out why you did that. Maybe having a creative outlet would help you deal. Would help you not be so angry. Please just...think about it. We’re here for you. No matter what, we’re here and we’ll accept you. Plus, you might help us win Regionals.”
With that Rachel brushed past him and walked into the choir room.
Dave watched the door close behind her. He was still shaking. He was breathing heavily. He could not see quite clearly - it was as if the whole hallway had become hazy. He needed to do something. Anything. He felt exactly like he had that day... in the locker room. His whole body was going to explode in a burst of frantic anger if he did not act. He spun around and slammed his fist into the nearest locker...”FUCK!”
As the pain of flesh slamming against metal shot up his arm and into his shoulder, the anger slowly dissipated. And his entire body sagged. The only thing keeping him upright was his extended arm pressing into the locker.
A noise behind him - fuck what was with people sneaking up on him today - brought him back to his senses. “Er. Um... Mr. Karofsky....David....may I talk to you for a moment?”
He turned around and was faced with the quiet, demure face of Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell. Uh oh.
“Uh. Sure. I guess.” He was too depleted to put up much of a fight.
“Do you often hit things? Well, by that, I...um...mean...do you often get angry and need to hit things to calm down?”
“I dunno.”
Dave stood there. Body trying to fold into itself. He had been caught in his most shameful act of self-preservation. The only way he knew to actually be normal was to hide everything about himself that he knew no one wanted to see behind this massive bulkhead of anger.
Shit. He really wanted to go home now.
“Dave. May I call you that?”
“Sure.”
Mrs. Pillsbury stepped forward, “I’m worried about you, Dave.” And with that she reached out and did something Dave was not expecting. Did not know how to handle. Did not how to compute. It was exactly what he didn’t need and it was exactly what he DID need. She touched his arm.
An adult had reached out and touched him. He was not being ignored. He was not being yelled at for letting his grades go. He was not being made fun of. Someone had expressed concern. Someone had said they care.
At that exact moment, the walls broke. The cracks in the armor became too much - and both the armor and he shattered.
And without meaning to - because Dave Karofsky would never let this happen if he had been in control - Dave started to cry. Big heavy tears slid silently down his face. And his body began to shake. It was too much... the anger. The hiding. The shame. It was too much... and all he needed was someone to honestly, without bias, express concern. He just let go. He finally just let go.
“Ok.” Mrs. Pillbury said in that soft comforting manner she was so good at. “Let’s go back to my office and talk.”
*******
The sessions started that week. They happened daily. At first, Dave and Emma would sit and stare silently at each other. Then an hour later, Dave would stand, mutter “Thanks.” and leave. The next day, at exactly Three fifteen, he would be back in that same chair. Staring at her.
She never got tired or irritated. She never forced him to say anything to her. She waited quietly for him to say something to her. Dozens of emotions would play over Dave’s features. Fear. Sadness. Angst. Grief. Anger...above all else, anger appeared the most on his face. But regardless of what Dave looked like, or did. Or how he acted... she sat quietly and waited for him to speak.
It took two weeks. Then one day, about twenty minutes after he had sat down, Dave said something. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, David?”
“Sorry for...everything.”
“May I ask you to be a little more specific?”
Dave’s face twisted itself into a look of anguish. As though there was a storm of emotions writhing beneath the surface. Emotions that threatened to over take him. That threatened to consume him. Emma was not sure if she was going to get a response or suddenly face an enraged boy who could not control his rage. Emma watched the internal battle that was happening in front of her.
“Will you tell anyone?”
“Dave, I promise that everything we say here will be completely confidential.”
“Ok.”
Dave stared at his hands again. Then he looked up. Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s wide open, generous eyes stared back at him. He suddenly started talking. It was as thought nothing was going to stop him.
He talked about how much he hated those in school who had ways of expressing themselves. He hated the other jocks in the school who made racist, homophobic jokes. How he hated having to come to school every day.
He talked about how much he hated himself.
It was with that statement that he left. Without another word. He just got up and left.
3:30 the next day... Dave knocked on Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s door. He walked in. Sat down. And looked at her.
“I’ve been worried about you since yesterday Dave.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing. Would you like to talk about what you said yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you hate yourself?”
“For being who I am.”
“And, what are you?”
“I... uh” Dave’s anger started to rise. Why couldn’t she see it. Why couldn’t she just understand what he was trying to say to her! He didn’t want to have to say it. He just wanted her to understand, to care about him. He started to close up. He wanted to lock himself up... Fuck her for not getting it. Fuck her for not just understanding what he was trying to tell her.
“Ok. Dave...I understand that this is hard. I want to help you. Why don’t I ask you some questions and you can just answer them?”
Dave looked up - he was trying to pull as much of himself into himself as he could. His entire body felt...tight.
“Ok.” It was barely audible.
“Do you like playing football?”
“Kinda. Yeah. I’m good at it.”
“Ok. That’s good. Do you like your friends?”
“Sometimes. They aren’t always very nice.”
“Do you like your family?”
“Yeah - but they are so busy, I never get to see my mom. She’s a doctor and is always working.”
“Do you like school?”
“I do. That’s the funny part - I’m good at school too. Until my grades went to shit. But I like it.”
“Good! Do you like to sing?”
“I think I sound stupid when I sing. But it feels good.”
“Did you enjoy dancing in Thriller?”
“Yeah. I did. I felt good.”
“Do you think you could express yourself by dancing?”
“Maybe.”
“Would you hate glee club less if you did?”
“Maybe.”
“Why did you bully Kurt?”
“Wha...!” She wasn’t supposed to ask about Kurt. She wasn’t supposed to bring that up. Dave’s face went red. He started to feel himself closing up...started to disappear into Karofsky. He felt that white hot rage starting to blind him again.
“Dave.” She reached out and touched him. It was a gamble, but one she was willing to take. “Take a deep breath. Try to calm down. I want you to breath in through your noise and out through your mouth. Just try, ok?”
Dave closed his eyes and did as she asked. He started to feel that blinding rage recede.
“I hate what I did to him.” Dave’s voice was low, it sounded like someone had reached into his throat and ripped the words from him. “I was... scared. I didn’t know...I tried not to.” Dave put his face into his hands.
“Why are you scared Dave?”
“Because of who I am.”
Emma said nothing in response. She just looked at him, willing him to meet her eyes. When she did, she understood. The guard had slipped. The cracks had opened enough to show her what she needed.
“Dave? May I give you something?”
“What?” His voice was utterly drained.
“A phone number. It’s like a help line, but not really. It’s more like a place where teenagers or young people can call and talk...about whatever they want. I would like to give you that number, ok? You don’t have to talk to them. But I want you to have the option, at least. Would that be ok, with you?”
Dave nodded. Emma slipped a piece of paper across the desk. It had a number on it the words Trevor Project. Dave took it and put it in his pocket. He was shaking. “May I go, Mrs. Pillsbury?”
“Yes, David. You may.”
Dave stood, picked up his backpack and walked out of her office.
Four weeks passed before she saw Dave again.
Dave opened her door - Emma sat alone in her office. She had reserved the same time every day, just in case - he walked in, and stook awkwardly in her doorway. Emma nodded at him. He sat down across from her and took a deep breath. “I called the number.”
“Do you feel comfortable talking to me about it?”
“I want to join glee.”
“Oh. Ok. Well we can make that happen...”
“I want to apologize to them. All of them.”
“Ok.”
“Mrs. Pillsbury...”
“Yes, Dave.”
“I’m...”
There was a heavy silence in the office. Emma did not want to break Dave out of his confessional state. Whatever had happened when he called that number had changed him. He was still closed off. Still pulled into himself, but he was trying to expose himself even just a little. All her training told her to stay silent and let him do this on his own.
“I’m...gay.”
He looked shocked. As thought he was totally unprepared for actually saying the word. Then a smile slowly spread over his face. A genuine smile.
“This was the first time you’ve said it to someone who was not on the other end of a phone wasn’t it?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Dave, I promise I will not say a word to anyone... the first rule in dealing with coming out is that it is your thing to do, you choose when and who to tell.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you like to still talk to me about things?”
“Yeah. I’m still scared.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Being bullied, I guess.”
“Who do you think will bully you?”
“The other guys on the football team. I guess I don’t want to get kicked off.”
“Do you think Coach Beiste will do that?”
“No, but the guys...”
“Well, Dave, no one needs to know. Only those you want to know.”
“I want to tell Kurt.”
“Ok. I think that will help the situation.”
“Will he still hate me?”
“I don’t know Dave. But I suspect he might be willing to talk to you. You telling him is a huge admission. He might come to understand some of what happened.”
“I want to try and be a better person.”
“And I think that you’ve made a really big step towards that. I’m proud of you Dave, you should be proud of yourself.”
“Thanks.” Dave blushed heavily. “Will you talk to Mr. Schue for me? I want to talk to Hudson - he said he would help me get into glee.”
“I promise that together we will help get you into glee.”
“Thanks.”
Dave just sat there for the next little while. As though he needed the sense of quiet to gather his thoughts and just deal with what had happened.
An hour later, he got his bag, stood up and muttered another “Thanks”, and he was gone.
Two weeks later... David entered the choir room for the first time - as a glee member.
***********
And here he was, a month later. Ready to perform. He was only mildly freaking out. Ok, maybe a bit more than mildly. He was really freaking out. He was about to perform a Killers song - ‘Smile Like You Mean It’ - a song that seemed to scream out to him. Dave realized that he had for a long time been smiling like he meant it... and now for the first time he was actually smiling, not pretending. Suddenly now he had a new way of expressing himself. He could get up on a stage and sing and dance. For the few moments that he was up there, he forgot he was David Karofsky at all. He forgot he was this closeted gay teen, who still did not have a sense of who he was in the world.
But today... well today... he was not just performing for the rest of the club. Today he was actually singing for the entire school. He was going to go stand out there in front of the whole football team - in front of Az - and he was going to sing. He was going to sing like he had never sung before. He was going to dance. Dance like he had never danced before.
And he was fucking scared out of his mind.
“You ready for this?”
He turned around to face Berry. The small girl had become his biggest supporter, his number one advocate in the club from the start. As soon as he had stepped into the choir room and told them that he wanted to join, she had jumped up and welcomed him with open arms. He was not exactly sure why - it must have had something to do with the talk they’d had almost two months earlier.
While the rest of the club - except for Finn - seemed to need a lot of time before they really accepted him, Rachel did not mind helping him work on his songs. Or on dancing - which he actually was a bit of a natural at. He had apologized to her right away.
And they had actually become something that could resemble friends... weird.
“No. I don’t think I’m ready for this at all.”
“Come on Dave. You’ve worked so hard the last month, you’re going to be great. We’ve performed this on the stage before, its just like the rehearsal, only with people there.”
“I know, Berry, but its just...different. It’s not the half-time show. Its a whole different thing.”
“Dave - I keep telling you, you have talent. So just go up there and show them how awesome you are.”
“You know a few months ago, your pep talks would have...”
“Turned you into an anger-ball?”
“Yeah. And what is an anger-ball anyways?”
“You should watch Playing By Heart... great movie.”
“Uh. Ok.”
“Now, come on - lets get out there and wow the untalented plebs of this school.”
“Careful - I used to be one of those plebs you know.”
She reached out and grab his forearm and pulled him forward.
Dave joined Puck and Finn and Sam, who were waiting to surge the stage and belt out the opening lines of the song. Finn turned to look at Dave, smiling. “You good, dude?”
“Yeah. Haven’t puked yet.”
“Sweet!”
“I think Finn is hoping that this song will up his sex appeal.” Puck muttered. “Like he doesn’t get enough tail as it is.”
“Dude, you’re just jealous cause Lauren still won’t putt out.” Finn shot back.
“Hudson!” Lauren roared at him from the line of girls behind him, “I will flatten you like a pancake if you don’t shut that enormous pitt of a boy hole.”
Finn mumbled something in response that Dave did not quite hear.
“Ok, guys!” Mr. Schue yelled, “Here we go!”
And suddenly Dave was on stage. Suddenly Dave’s body was moving. To a rhythm. Suddenly Dave was singing - and he could tell that they liked it.
“GO DAVE!” Someone yelled... he was not sure if it was Azimo or some other footballer or someone else... but he had a fan!
He worked it.
He rocked it.
And he had fun. He was totally loving it. There was nothing but the moment - the experience of being on stage. He was free to be whomever he wanted to be. He was Dave. Just Dave.
He glanced out at the audience once - Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell was smiling at him from the front row. He owed her big time. He could see Mr. Schue, also beaming at him, at his whole club.
He couldn’t see Az though. He wondered what his friend thought of him at this moment. The guy had not taken the news of his glee membership super well. But fuck him, right?
Suddenly it was over, and they were backstage again. Clapping each other on the back. Hugging. He hugged Berry.
“See! You were great!”
“Thanks Berry.” He smiled at her.
Finn came out of nowhere and hugged him tightly. Dave was not exactly used to being in such close proximity to another guy without football padding... he had to think very unsexy thoughts to contain his physical excitement at the sensation.
When Finn broke away, he grinned at Dave. “Man you were awesome out there. I am so glad that you did this. You’re good. Congrats man!” And with that the other boy wandered away.
Dave quickly changed out of his costume and left the auditorium. The hallway was empty. He made his way to his locker, he had to get to Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell’s office for their meeting that day. She wanted to talk to him about the performance, and make sure that he was doing ok after it.
Suddenly Az was there - standing in front of him. The two guys stared at each other. Az was the first to speak.
“I liked it.”
“Um, thanks man.”
“I don’t really get why you joined that faggy club.”
“It’s not faggy, ok. Its just a fun club. Ok?”
“Whatever. Dude. You looked good up there.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see ya.” And Dave found himself watching Azimo’s disappearing back.
Dave shook his head. Well that was... odd. He grabbed his bag and headed towards Mrs. Pillsbury. As he rounded the corner to her office. He was stopped by another voice.
“You did a great job, Dave.”
Kurt Hummel was standing behind him, clutching his bag in his usual stance. As though the bag could be used like some powerful weapon or shield against Dave’s evil forces.
Holy fuck. Kurt Hummel was standing there. Kurt Hummel was TALKING to him. Kurt was using his first name! Ok, Dave, calm down. Be cool Dave. Be Cool. Just focus. You’ve talked to Mrs. Pillsbury about this happening for weeks now. You’ve talked to Jeff at the Trevor Project about this - be cool. Be calm. Don’t get upset - angry or emotional. Just be normal.
And remember to breathe. But breathing when you are scared to death... not an easy thing to do.
Shit, he’s staring at me. Why is he staring at me. Right, I need to respond to him. I need to say something. Say something...anything.
“Um. Hi. Er....t-t-thanks.”
“I, uh, can’t stay long. Finn is waiting for me - we have to go meet my dad and Carol, but I came to see you perform. I really liked it. Wouldn’t have been my first choice. I’m not a big fan of new rock or whatever The Killers are... but you all looked good.”
“You came to see me?”
“I did. Finn’s told me all about the work you’ve been doing. I wanted to see what’s come of it. I mean I didn’t come to see you only... I wanted to see the whole gang perform. But...I dunno...it seemed kinda important that I see what you’ve done with yourself. It was good.”
“Kurt...I...I”
“I know you want to talk. I got your email. Its just that...”
“I still scare you.”
“You... make me hesitate.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“It means I just need...time.”
Tell him... TELL HIM....Dave’s voice dropped. To a near whisper. “I came out - to myself at least. And to Mrs. Pillsbury. And I’ve been calling The Trevor Project.”
The look on Kurt’s face was one of obvious shock and surprise - clearly he had not been expecting that. “Oh. Well. Wow. That’s fantastic. I’m glad to hear that. I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
“Yes, Dave. I am. Despite everything we’ve said and done to each other... I still want to see you be, well happy and healthy, I guess.”
“Thanks. But you never did anything to me - I was the one who...” There was an obvious hint of hard emotion in Dave’s voice, he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Look, Dave. I’m not ready to have this talk. I know you need to. But I just need to have a little more time. Can we take this thing slow?”
“Yeah.” Dave’s voice was starting to crack. “That sounds good. Thank you for not ignoring me. Thank you.”
Kurt smiled. “No one deserves to be ignored, David. I have to run. Maybe... maybe I’ll email tonight?”
“I’d like that. I have to go in and see Mrs. Pillsbury anyways.”
Kurt looked down at his shoes, then up at Dave again. Nodded. Simply said, “Bye Dave.” And turned sharply on his heel and walked away.
Dave watched him go, and said softly “Bye Kurt.”
*****************
*Present Day*
Dave rubbed his fingers along the stem of the long empty wine glass, caught up in his memories. He could still remember every single conversation he had with Jeff from the Trevor Project. He could still remember the many nights he had spent curled up on his bed crying because of those conversations. He remembered how hard it had been that first time on the phone to say the words, “I’m gay.” But once he had, it had been like a whole new vocabulary had opened up for him - and every word was made up of those syllables.
It had rocked him to the core.
He remembered the crazy questions he’d asked - questions he now hears on a daily basis from the kids he sees at the center. “Is it ok to be gay and not like clothes or musicals or stuff like that?” “Will people stop liking me?” “Will God hate me?” Hundreds of questions. Maybe thousands. All churning around in his head. All slowly breaking down the already leaky dam of his psyche.
Every conversation had been so scary. Every conversation had felt so good. He never wanted them to end. It had been those four weeks that had changed his life - during them he knew that he was going to help kids like him when he grew up. He was going to make a difference.
Because those phone calls changed him. And look at him now - he might not exactly be all there emotionally at the moment, but he was out. He hadn’t hidden who he was since ... well since the end of high school.
He could remember what it felt like to see Kurt that first time after the performance. The fear. The elation at the idea that he was talking to Dave. The idea that maybe it was fixable. He also remembered how he had been worried that he was going to vomit on Kurt’s shoes. He also remembered how excited he’d been in telling Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell about it afterwards.
Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell - he wondered if she was still married to that dentist dude - and the glee club had given him the strength to be someone who he was proud of. It was because of them that he found the Trevor Project, and it was because of them that he had a pretty good life. And he had ran out on them - he had hurt people, and then turned his back on them.
That final kiss... the one that sealed his fate had ruined someone he cared for so deeply. Had hurt so many.
Glee gave him the chance and ability to change once. It could do it again. Dave knew what he had to do. He had to go back - he had to face them. He had to deal with his past. He had to go to the reunion.
But before he did that, he had to try and deal with Adam. Dave had to understand why Adam left. Why Adam cheated. Dave had to find and meet Mr. Mike the Fucking Dentist.
“God,” he he muttered into the empty wineglass, “please don’t let this be a really really fucking bad mistake.”