Out (Episode 3.09) (1/2)
Title: Out (Episode 3.09)
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Ensemble, emphasis on Finn, Santana, and Karofsky
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~9,500
Warnings: There's a lot of Karofsky in this. So, y'know, discussion of all the things that could go along with that.
Spoilers: Through 2.22 "New York" NO SEASON 3 SPOILERS. On the off-chance that something on the show ends up at all like anything that ends up in this series, it's completely coincidental.
Summary: Finchel and Klaine go on a double date, Santana makes an important decision, and Karofsky does, too.
Author's Note: This is written like it's an episode of the show, so I mostly deal with outward reactions, rather than the characters inner thoughts and feelings. Part of my Fantasy Season 3 series. And if you've been following along, no, you didn't miss any chapters. I'm doing select episodes, so I skipped from episode 7 to episode 9.
Episode 1: Magic Kingdom
Episode 2: What You Want
Episode 5: Past, Present, and Future Tense
Episode 7: Comfort Zone
So, here's what you missed on Glee. There are some new kids, Karofsky joined glee club, and Sam's around because I love him. In Closet News, Kurt and Blaine are out of it, Santana's in it but peeking her head out to sneak glances at Jen, her girlfriend who goes to a different school, and Karofky's not just in it, but hiding under a pile of dirty clothes, as well. Brittany's not really in the closet, per se; it's more like she's in the wardrobe, having tea with Mr. Tumnus, but she's left the door open so she can keep an eye on Lord Tubbington. He's been getting into those Twilight books again, and Britt-Britt thinks they're a bad influence on him.
. . . And that's you missed, on Glee!
Out (3.09)
The Hudson-Hummel family was assembled in their kitchen cooking dinner. To be more accurate, Carole and Kurt were preparing dinner while Burt and Finn occasionally snuck their fingers into bowls to snag little bits of whatever was being cut up. Rachel stood off to the side, soaking in the family atmosphere.
“I really appreciate that you're making vegan lasagna,” she said to Carole.
“Oh, it's no problem,” Carole said cheerfully. “After all, it wouldn't hurt some of us to eat healthier.” She looked pointedly at Burt.
“One steak,” he said. “One steak, which the doctor said was fine, and suddenly I'm the 600-pound man over here.”
“You did what?” Kurt suddenly stopped chopping vegetables. Finn and Rachel exchanged looks.
“You know who I haven't seen in a while?” Rachel said, trying to derail the conversation.
“I don't know,” Finn said flatly. “Please, tell us more.”
“Blaine Warbler,” Rachel said.
Kurt snorted and went back to slicing zucchini. “You know very well that's not his real name.”
“It's still pretty funny, though,” Finn said. “Why hasn't he been around lately, anyway?”
“Dalton has the most insane ACT/SAT combo prep class,” Kurt said. “It's basically eating up all of his time. I barely see him. I mostly just get sleepy texts where he tries to use his new vocab words on me.”
“I just got the best idea,” Rachel said. “We should go on a double date!” At Finn's apprehensive look, she clarified. “Finn and me, and Kurt and Blaine! That would be so fun!”
“That sounds like a great idea!” Carole said from her saucepan. “The poor boy could probably use a study break.”
“And I approve of anything that involves an extra layer of supervision,” Burt said. He glanced meaningfully at Finn and Kurt. “For both of you.”
“It's settled, then!” Kurt said. “I'll call Blaine tonight and make him carve out some time in his schedule.” He looked at Rachel and they both squeed at each other in excitement.
Finn picked up a slice of green pepper and took a bite out of it, looking a little worried at the prospect of a double date.
* * *
“Okay, guys,” Will said as the bell rang and the glee kids made their way to their seats. “It's that time of year again.” He reached into a box, pulled out a rhyming dictionary, and tossed it to Finn.
“Original songs!” Rachel squealed, catching the next one he threw.
“Wait, you guys write music?” Luke asked. He caught the next dictionary and eyed it suspiciously.
“For competitions,” Finn explained.
“Then . . .” Luke furrowed his brow. “Why do we spend all of our time practicing covers?”
The rest of the group just looked at him like he was stupid.
“. . . nevermind, then,” he muttered.
“Anyway,” Will said, continuing to pass out books, “with Sectionals only two weeks away, we need to get working on our songs. Especially when we have such stiff competition this year from the Warblers and the Humane Society Singers.”
“I still can't believe they taught those dogs to bark on pitch,” Artie said.
“Cute animals? That's gonna be way worse than adorable old people,” Mercedes said. “If any of those dogs is missing a leg, we'll be goners for sure.”
“Well, we just have to write some songs that will make the judges forget all about loveable puppies,” Will said. “Now go ahead and get into groups. By the end of the week, I want every group to have a song ready for consideration.”
The members of New Directions began to split off. Tina, Mike, and Brittany drifted into the corner, Finn, Rachel, and Kurt asked to go to the auditorium, the new kids gathered around the piano, and a super-group of Puck, Lauren, Artie, Sam, and Mercedes formed in the center of the room. Quinn sat awkwardly by herself until Mercedes dragged her to join them. That left Santana and Karofsky to work together.
“I guess we're partners,” Santana smirked at him. “In one sense of the word, anyway.”
“Could you not?” Karofsky asked. His eyes darted around the room to make sure they weren't being overheard, and he added in a low voice, “It's been, like, 24/7 gay jokes from Azimio since I joined glee, okay? And my dad keeps making me watch every sport that's on ESPN just to stop me from 'going soft.' I had to watch soccer last night. It was horrible.”
Santana rolled her eyes. “Fine.” They looked at each other. “So . . . what do you want to write about?”
Karofsky shrugged. “I dunno. Have you ever written a song before?”
“Once,” Santana said. “It was about Sam's enormous mouth. It was pretty much the best song ever.” At the look Karofsky was giving her, she sighed. “Gender non-specific love song?”
“Remember that one time we fake-dated and it was super-awkward? That's how I would feel writing a love song with you.”
“Fine.” Santana thought for a second. “What if . . . I mean, there's one thing we have in common, Dave, and we could definitely write a song about it.”
Karofsky shot upright in his chair. “Do you have a head injury?” he hissed.
“I've just been thinking--”
“Clearly, you haven't.” Karofsky stood up, ready to storm out. Before he left, he leaned over and muttered in Santana's ear. “If you want to declare open season on yourself, that's your business, but don't drag me down with you.”
He stomped out of the choir room. As heads turned to look at her, Santana covered up her surprise at his outburst with a bitchy huff.
* * *
“Wait, what's so bad about a double date?” Puck asked. Finn balked at him.
“Are you serious, dude?”
“Rachel's awesome, Kurt's awesome, Blaine's awesome. I'm not really seeing the problem here.” They stopped walking so Puck could open his locker.
“Do you remember when I dated Quinn the first time,” Finn said, “when we would sit around talking about which Super Mario game was the best until she called me a thick-headed ignorant moose?”
“Moose? I don't remember a moose.”
“Whatever, the point is, imagine that conversation, except you're Quinn, and we're talking about the 1964 Tony Awards.”
It took a second for Puck's brain to figure out the metaphor, but as soon as it clicked, his eyes grew wide.
“That's rough, man.” He put his backpack in his locker and shut it again. They continued walking.
“So how do you deal with it when Lauren gets all crazy about Twilight and stuff?” Finn asked.
“I look at her boobs,” Puck said. When Finn stopped to consider it, Puck smacked him in the arm. “Dude, I was kidding. She would smother me with them if she caught me doing that. Which, I mean, best way to die ever, but still.”
“Okay, well, what do you do, then?”
“It doesn't really come up that often,” Puck said. “I mean, we mostly talk about stuff we both like, y'know? I guess when it does, I just think it's pretty cool that there's something that makes my girl that happy. And,” he lowered his voice, “okay, sometimes I look at her boobs. But respectfully. And mostly because she gets all hot and bothered when she talks about Edward Cullen and I know that--”
“Right,” Finn cut him off. The bell rang and Puck slapped him on the back before heading off to class. Finn looked just as confused about everything as ever.
* * *
Azimio stared down a freshman who dared to be in his and Karofsky's path. “Writing a song?” he said once the kid was appropriately cowering. “That is--”
“--the gayest thing you've ever heard of in your life, yeah, I know,” Karofsky groaned. “Seriously, do you know any other words? Can't something just be dumb for once?”
“If it wasn't so homosexual, it could be,” Azimio shot back.
“You need to knock it off with the gay jokes,” Karofsky said.
Azimio stopped walking. “Why? Just because you're in glee with a bunch of fancy-pants guys-who-kiss-guys?”
“Because it's not funny,” Karofsky said.
“I think it's pretty funny.”
“It's not.” Karofsky narrowed his eyes. “It's just a thing. I don't know why we ever made a big deal about it.”
Azimio just stared at him. “Oh my god. You were abducted by aliens. You were abducted by gay aliens, and they plugged your head into their big gay computer like in The Matrix. That's the only explanation for all of this.”
“Dude,” Karofsky rolled his eyes, “I've grown. I got educated. You should probably do the same.”
“I wanna still pee standing up, thanks,” Azimio said.
Karofsky shook his head angrily, slammed the nearest locker with his hand, and stormed off.
* * *
The next day, Puck, Lauren, Artie, Sam, Quinn, and Mercedes gathered in the choir room to work on their song. Sam sat with his guitar in his lap and read his rhyming dictionary.
“What about, 'I love you as you are, don't get hit by a car' . . .”
“That's awful,” Quinn said. She was sitting at the piano, and she absently plunked a few notes before adding, “Besides, if Finn ends up singing it, we don't want to bring up his complex and have him screw up the performance.”
“It might keep him from kissing anyone onstage again,” Sam pointed out.
Mercedes threw her dictionary to the ground. “This is so much harder than last time.”
Lauren had been pacing back and forth behind Puck, but now she wandered over and sat at the drum set. “Last time we had New York for inspiration.” She paused. “Even if nothing we wrote actually had anything to do with New York.”
“I think we should just do a mash-up of 'Trouty Mouth,' 'Big-Ass Heart,' 'Hell to the No,' and 'My Cup,'” Artie said.
Mercedes looked at him. “So, like, 'Hell to My Big-Ass Trouty Mouth'?”
“That's genius,” Puck said. “Sam can sing it. It would seriously sell a hundred million copies on i-Tunes. What's the next step up from platinum?”
“Adamantium?” Sam ventured.
“You are so lucky I find your nerdiness endearing,” Mercedes said.
“Hey, you got the reference,” Sam said. “That means--” he switched to his Darth Vader voice, “--I'm turning you to the Dark Side.”
She giggled and smacked him on the arm. Quinn good-naturedly rolled her eyes at both of them.
“What if we just tried improvising something?” Lauren asked. “Like, over a beat.” She began to hit the bass drum pedal in a steady quarter note rhythm. Artie nodded his head along and started drumming on the arms of his wheelchair. The others started joining in, each adding their own part.
“I know this doesn't help at all,” Artie said, “but this really sounds like the began of 'Cecilia' by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Yeah, it totally does,” Puck agreed.
“What song?” Sam said.
“Dude, you've never listened to Simon and Garfunkel?”
“You listen to Simon and Garfunkel?” Mercedes asked.
“Yeah, I discovered them when I was trying to get into your pants sophomore year.”
“When you were what now?” Sam asked. Mercedes just patted him on the head as Puck plowed on.
“Yeah, it turns out that Art Garfunkel? Not black.” He held out his hands to Sam. “Anyway, give me your guitar and we'll sing it for you.”
Reluctantly, Sam handed over his instrument. Puck put the strap over his shoulder and looked back at Lauren, who was now shaking a shaker in addition to playing the bass drum.
“Think you can hold us down, babe?”
“You got it, Puckerman,” Lauren said back. Puck turned to the others and nodded at them to come in.
“Celia, you're breakin' my heart,” they sang. “You're shaking my confidence daily.” Puck picked up the guitar part. “Oh, Cecilia, I'm down on my knees. I'm beggin' you please to come home. Come on home.”
Sam walked over to the drum set and picked up a set of sticks, which he used to start playing both the floor tom and a nearby music stand. This freed up the rest of the group to dance around the room a little bit without losing the beat, but they still clapped their hands or slapped their thighs (or sometimes, each others' thighs and other body parts).
“Makin' love in the afternoon
with Cecilia, up in my bedroom.
I got up to wash my face,
when I come back to bed,
someone's taken my place.
Celia,
you're breakin' my heart.
You're shaking my confidence daily.
Oh, Cecilia,
I'm down on my knees.
I'm beggin' you please to come home.
Come on home.
Jubilation,
she loves me again.
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing.
Jubilation,
she loves me again.
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing.”
By the end of the song, Sam was joining in on the singing, and they all finished with a post-performance glow.
Their happiness was short-lived, however.
“So, about that original song . . .” Quinn sighed, and they dejectedly picked up their rhyming dictionaries and pads of paper to go back to work.
* * *
“Thanks for letting me sit up front,” Finn looked over his shoulder to the backseat, where Blaine was sitting with Rachel.
“No problem,” Blaine said. “You need the leg room.”
Kurt's eyes flicked up off the road to look at his boyfriend in the rear view mirror. “Yes, that's something less of a concern for Blaine.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“You guys,” Rachel cut in, “we're going out for a night on the town!”
“We're going to Breadstix,” Kurt said derisively.
“That's on the town for Lima,” Rachel pointed out. “Anyway, if we're going out, I think we need appropriate music.”
“Very true,” Blaine said. He leaned as far forward as he could with his seat belt on and grabbed Kurt's i-Pod. “Let's give this sound system a workout.”
A brief intro played, and the rest of the people in the car grinned as they realized what song Blaine had picked.
“I came to dance, dance, dance, dance,” Blaine sang. “I hit the floor 'cause that's my plans, plans, plans, plans.” He leaned forward and sang directly in Kurt's ear. “I'm wearing all my favorite brands, brands, brands, brands.”
One hand on the wheel, Kurt tugged at his shirt in time with the repeated words and put on his best swagger face.
“Give me some space for both my hands, hands, hands, hands. You, you.”
Finn took up the melody next, chair-dancing as enthusiastically as the confines of the car (and his own talent) would let him.
“'Cause it goes on and on and on.
And it goes on and on and on, yeah.”
Kurt sang lead on the chorus, with the rest of his companions providing appropriate backup. As everyone else lifted their hands up, Kurt again made sure to keep one of his on the wheel, but driving didn't get in the way of his dancing.
“I throw my hand up in the air sometimes,
sayin' ay-oh,
gotta let go.
I wanna celebrate and live my life,
sayin' ay-oh,
baby, let's go.”
Lead vocals passed back over to Blaine.
“'Cause we gon' rock this club.
We gon' go all night.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.
'Cause I told you once,
now I told you twice.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.”
Rachel cut in to sing the bridge, grabbing Blaine's hands and over-emoting at him.
“I'm gonna take it all out.
I'm gonna be the last one standing.
Higher over all, I,
I'm gonna be the last one landing.
'Cause I, I, I believe it,
and I, I, I,
I just want it all.
I just want it all.
I'm gonna put my hands in the air, now.
Ha-hands in the air.
Put your hands in the air, air, air, air, ai-ai-ai-ai-air.”
Kurt drove on, and they all continued to dance in their seats with wild, dorky abandon.
“I throw my hand up in the air sometimes,
sayin' ay-oh,
gotta let go.
I wanna celebrate and live my life,
sayin' ay-oh,
baby, let's go.
'Cause we gon' rock this club.
We gon' go all night.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.
'Cause I told you once,
now I told you twice.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.”
* * *
Once they were inside Breadstix, though, the double date left something to be desired for Finn.
“You have to give credit to the originator,” Rachel said.
“But I think you're forgetting: it's Patti LuPone,” Kurt said.
“C'mon, now,” Blaine cut in. “We can't have this conversation without bringing up Bette. We just can't.”
Over Blaine's shoulder, Finn spotted Mike and Tina being seated at a table. “I need to use the bathroom,” he said suddenly, earning him weird looks from the rest of the table. “I'll be right back.”
Finn walked across the restaurant and, after looking back to make Rachel was once again embroiled in a Broadway debate, he slid himself into Mike and Tina's booth.
“Oh man, it's so good to see you guys,” he said. He grabbed a breadstick out of their container and chomped down on it. Mike side-eyed him while Tina looked back at rest of Finn's group.
“Isn't there somewhere else you should be?” she asked. “Like, with your girlfriend?”
“You don't understand,” Finn said. “When she starts talking about Broadway, it's like, tunnel-vision. Like those holes they cut through redwoods, or whatever.”
Mike and Tina exchanged a look. “What do you and Rachel talk about, anyway?” Mike asked.
Finn shrugged. “I dunno. Glee, mostly.” He thought about it. “College. Our relationship. Sometimes she talks about musicals and I zone out.”
“That's . . . not a very wide range of topics,” Tina said. Mike nodded in agreement.
“Well, what do you guys talk about?” Finn asked defensively.
“Everything,” Mike said simply.
“Movies, books, gaming, dance, our families,” Tina explained. “A lot of stuff. We don't have to duck out of conversations with each other because we're not interested in what the other person has to say.” She paused. “Why do you?”
“I don't,” Finn said. Mike raised his eyebrows. “Usually. Look, I'm not saying it's easy to date Rachel. But I love her.” He glanced over at his table, where Rachel was laughing at something Kurt had said. “I just don't get her all the time.”
Mike and Tina exchanged another look. “Okay, dude,” Mike said. “But if you sit here any longer, she's gonna wonder where you went.”
“Yeah,” Finn said. “You guys have a good night, all right?” He got up from the table.
“You, too,” Tina said. She smiled at Finn as he walked away and then looked at Mike. “I say they break up by Sectionals.”
“I give them at least 'til Spring Break,” Mike replied.
Back at his table, Finn sat down.
“You ran into Mike and Tina?” Rachel said, reaching over and grabbing his hand.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, a little abashed to be called out on it. “I guess they're celebrating Date Night, too.”
“Well, I think we've talked enough about Broadway,” Rachel said. “Blaine, do you want to discuss football with Finn while Kurt and I admire how handsome our boyfriends are?”
“Uh, I guess,” Blaine said. He glanced over at Finn. “So, the Packers are looking pretty good again, huh?”
“Aaron Rodgers is kind of a bad ass,” Finn said.
Kurt leaned over and stole a fry off of Blaine's plate. “He's pretty cute, too.”
“That's true,” Blaine said.
“He's a good-looking dude,” Finn agreed. When the others stared at him, he said, “What? I'm straight, not blind.”
“I guess I'll have to look this guy up if you think so highly of him,” Rachel smirked, and she rested her head on Finn's shoulder as he continued to chat with Blaine about the Superbowl.
* * *
Karofsky walked past the auditorium, but he stopped when he heard music coming from it. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then he slipped inside.
Brittany, Mike, and Tina were onstage, ostensibly working on their original song, but they seemed to have gotten distracted. A karaoke track blared out of a boombox that was sitting on the piano. Karofksy leaned against the back wall of the auditorium and watched as Mike pulled Brittany into a ballroom-dance hold.
“Clock strikes upon the hour,” Brittany sang, and she and Mike began to dance together. “And the sun begins to fade.”
“Still enough time to figure out
how to chase my blues away.
I've done all right up 'til now.
It's the light of day that shows me how,
and when the night falls
the loneliness calls.”
Mike spun her across the stage to Tina, who caught her. They changed grip so that Brittany was the one who was leading, and then they launched into the chorus while doing choreography similar to what she had been doing with Mike.
“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.”
They switched roles again and Tina gave Brittany a twirl back over to Mike.
“I've been in love and lost my senses,
spinning through the town.”
Brittany let go of Mike and turned back to dance with Tina for the next two lines.
“Sooner or later, the feeling ends,
and I wind up feeling down.”
Mike came up behind Brittany and reached around her to grab Tina's hand and waist, effectively sandwiching Brittany in the middle while the other two danced.
“I need someone who'll take a chance
on a love that burns hot enough to last.
And when the night falls--”
Mike adjusted so that he had Tina's hand in one hand and Brittany's hand in the other before spinning them out so he had a girl on either side of him.
“--my lonely heart calls.”
Mike let go of Brittany's hand and turned to Tina. They began to do the same dance Tina and Brittany had done during the first chorus. This time, Brittany was left to sing by herself on the side of the stage.
“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.”
The song ended, and Mike and Tina were left panting. Even so, they pulled Brittany into a three-way hug.
Karofsky still stood at the back of the auditorium, his arms folded across his chest. Scowling, he turned and left.
* * *
“We need to talk,” Karofsky said, approaching Santana's locker.
“Then talk,” she said. She pulled a folder out of her backpack and put it in her locker.
“Not here,” he said. When Santana rolled her eyes at him, he shut her locker door on her.
“Excuse you!” she said, but Karofsky was already pulling her down the hall.
And into the janitor's closet.
“Really?” Santana said as Karofsky pulled the chain to turn on the light. “The only thing this room is good for is sex, and that's about as likely to happen between us as it is between Michele and Marcus Bachmann.”
“I saw Brittany performing in the auditorium,” Karofsky said.
Santana's expression softened at the mention of Brittany, but she didn't acknowledge it. “So? How is this news?”
“She was dancing with Mike and Tina and singing some song about wanting to dance with somebody who loves her and she's clearly still into you,” Karofsky said. “You're being kind of a bitch by going around with that other chick.”
“What?” Santana's jaw dropped. “Okay, so one: how are you the Lez Whisperer, all of a sudden, and two: since when is it your business who I date? And since when do you care?”
“You're the one who wants to come out,” Karofsky said. “And I heard what she sang to you before. It'll be a pretty crappy move if you come out and still won't date with her.”
“If I come out, it's going to be for me, not for anyone else,” Santana snapped. “And I'm still failing to see what damn you have to give about all this.”
“Maybe I just want to be a better person, okay?” Karofksy said. “Maybe I want to stop being a dick and start caring about other people's feelings. Maybe that's something you should think about doing, too.”
Santana sneered at him. “That's tough talk coming from the guy who called me drunk at the three in the morning to tell me about the time he almost hate-kissed Kurt Hummel.”
Karofsky winced, but he recovered quickly. “You don't know how good you've got it, Lopez,” he said. “You've got friends who'll accept you. You've got two people who are in love with you. I'm never gonna have any of that.”
“So it's a jealousy thing? Sweetie, you're gonna have to take it down a notch.” Santana's voice dripped with fake-sincerity. “Green is not your color. As a gay man, you should already know that.”
“People need to stop telling me what gay men are supposed to know,” Karofsky glowered. “Fine, do what you want. I don't care anyway.”
“Good,” Santana said, a little louder than she needed to.
“Good!” Karofsky shouted back, and he slammed the door of the janitor's closet behind him.
Outside, he looked to his left and saw Kurt casually leaning against the lockers, Mercedes with her arm hooked around his. Finn was talking to them, and something Kurt said made him laugh and lean over to playfully knock shoulders with his step-brother.
Turning to his right, Karofsky saw Brittany walking down the hallway with Quinn. Quinn was showing her something on a pad of paper, and the easy way they walked together in spite of Brittany's sexuality, the way Brittany's hand rested on Quinn's shoulder as their faces hovered less than an inch apart--it triggered something in him.
“When there's nowhere else to run,” he found himself singing in his head as he fumed his way toward the exit, “is there room for one more son? One more son?”
At his house, Karofsky shut the door to his room and shoved his i-Pod into its dock. There was no mirror in his room, but he stared at his reflection in the glass of his old boxy television set.
“I wanna stand up,” he sang out loud along to the recording.
“I wanna let go.
You know, you know, no, you don't, you don't.
I wanna shine on
in the hearts of men.
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand.
Another head aches,
another heart breaks.
I'm so much older than I can take.
And my affection,
well, it comes and goes.
I need direction to perfection,
no no no no--”
“Help me out.” He closed his eyes and imagined all the people he could have leaned on for support if he had lived his life differently--Kurt, Finn, Santana--he could hear them singing along with him.
“Yeah, you know you got to help me out.
Yeah, oh, don't you put me on the back burner.
You know you got to help me out, yeah.”
Karofsky opened his eyes and he was back alone in his room.
“And when there's nowhere else to run,
is there room for one more son?
These changes, ain't changin' me,
the cold-hearted boy I used to be.”
He closed his eyes again, and this time he imagined himself onstage with the rest of New Directions. The beat dropped out, and he stepped forward.
“I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.”
Finn and Kurt stepped forward to join him on the next line.
“I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.”
Then Santana and Brittany.
“I got soul, but I'm not not a soldier.”
And then Puck and Sam, Mike and Tina, and more and more members of glee stepped forward to the front of the stage on every subsequent line. By the time Mercedes was wailing on the high notes, the whole club was standing with him.
He squinted through the stage lights and into the audience. He swore he could see Azimio out there watching.
“Over and in,” Karofsky sang, “last call for sin. While everyone's lost, the battle is won. With all these things that I've done.”
Once more, he opened his eyes and returned to reality. The music started to fade out, and he softly whispered the last lines:
“If you can hold on.
If you can hold on.”
The emotional exertion caused him to slump down on his bed in a daze. He'd sat there for less than a second before there was a pounding on his door.
“Turn that racket down, David!” his father yelled.
Karofsky fought back his tears and let himself collapse the rest of the way onto his bed.
Part 2
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Ensemble, emphasis on Finn, Santana, and Karofsky
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~9,500
Warnings: There's a lot of Karofsky in this. So, y'know, discussion of all the things that could go along with that.
Spoilers: Through 2.22 "New York" NO SEASON 3 SPOILERS. On the off-chance that something on the show ends up at all like anything that ends up in this series, it's completely coincidental.
Summary: Finchel and Klaine go on a double date, Santana makes an important decision, and Karofsky does, too.
Author's Note: This is written like it's an episode of the show, so I mostly deal with outward reactions, rather than the characters inner thoughts and feelings. Part of my Fantasy Season 3 series. And if you've been following along, no, you didn't miss any chapters. I'm doing select episodes, so I skipped from episode 7 to episode 9.
Episode 1: Magic Kingdom
Episode 2: What You Want
Episode 5: Past, Present, and Future Tense
Episode 7: Comfort Zone
So, here's what you missed on Glee. There are some new kids, Karofsky joined glee club, and Sam's around because I love him. In Closet News, Kurt and Blaine are out of it, Santana's in it but peeking her head out to sneak glances at Jen, her girlfriend who goes to a different school, and Karofky's not just in it, but hiding under a pile of dirty clothes, as well. Brittany's not really in the closet, per se; it's more like she's in the wardrobe, having tea with Mr. Tumnus, but she's left the door open so she can keep an eye on Lord Tubbington. He's been getting into those Twilight books again, and Britt-Britt thinks they're a bad influence on him.
. . . And that's you missed, on Glee!
Out (3.09)
The Hudson-Hummel family was assembled in their kitchen cooking dinner. To be more accurate, Carole and Kurt were preparing dinner while Burt and Finn occasionally snuck their fingers into bowls to snag little bits of whatever was being cut up. Rachel stood off to the side, soaking in the family atmosphere.
“I really appreciate that you're making vegan lasagna,” she said to Carole.
“Oh, it's no problem,” Carole said cheerfully. “After all, it wouldn't hurt some of us to eat healthier.” She looked pointedly at Burt.
“One steak,” he said. “One steak, which the doctor said was fine, and suddenly I'm the 600-pound man over here.”
“You did what?” Kurt suddenly stopped chopping vegetables. Finn and Rachel exchanged looks.
“You know who I haven't seen in a while?” Rachel said, trying to derail the conversation.
“I don't know,” Finn said flatly. “Please, tell us more.”
“Blaine Warbler,” Rachel said.
Kurt snorted and went back to slicing zucchini. “You know very well that's not his real name.”
“It's still pretty funny, though,” Finn said. “Why hasn't he been around lately, anyway?”
“Dalton has the most insane ACT/SAT combo prep class,” Kurt said. “It's basically eating up all of his time. I barely see him. I mostly just get sleepy texts where he tries to use his new vocab words on me.”
“I just got the best idea,” Rachel said. “We should go on a double date!” At Finn's apprehensive look, she clarified. “Finn and me, and Kurt and Blaine! That would be so fun!”
“That sounds like a great idea!” Carole said from her saucepan. “The poor boy could probably use a study break.”
“And I approve of anything that involves an extra layer of supervision,” Burt said. He glanced meaningfully at Finn and Kurt. “For both of you.”
“It's settled, then!” Kurt said. “I'll call Blaine tonight and make him carve out some time in his schedule.” He looked at Rachel and they both squeed at each other in excitement.
Finn picked up a slice of green pepper and took a bite out of it, looking a little worried at the prospect of a double date.
* * *
“Okay, guys,” Will said as the bell rang and the glee kids made their way to their seats. “It's that time of year again.” He reached into a box, pulled out a rhyming dictionary, and tossed it to Finn.
“Original songs!” Rachel squealed, catching the next one he threw.
“Wait, you guys write music?” Luke asked. He caught the next dictionary and eyed it suspiciously.
“For competitions,” Finn explained.
“Then . . .” Luke furrowed his brow. “Why do we spend all of our time practicing covers?”
The rest of the group just looked at him like he was stupid.
“. . . nevermind, then,” he muttered.
“Anyway,” Will said, continuing to pass out books, “with Sectionals only two weeks away, we need to get working on our songs. Especially when we have such stiff competition this year from the Warblers and the Humane Society Singers.”
“I still can't believe they taught those dogs to bark on pitch,” Artie said.
“Cute animals? That's gonna be way worse than adorable old people,” Mercedes said. “If any of those dogs is missing a leg, we'll be goners for sure.”
“Well, we just have to write some songs that will make the judges forget all about loveable puppies,” Will said. “Now go ahead and get into groups. By the end of the week, I want every group to have a song ready for consideration.”
The members of New Directions began to split off. Tina, Mike, and Brittany drifted into the corner, Finn, Rachel, and Kurt asked to go to the auditorium, the new kids gathered around the piano, and a super-group of Puck, Lauren, Artie, Sam, and Mercedes formed in the center of the room. Quinn sat awkwardly by herself until Mercedes dragged her to join them. That left Santana and Karofsky to work together.
“I guess we're partners,” Santana smirked at him. “In one sense of the word, anyway.”
“Could you not?” Karofsky asked. His eyes darted around the room to make sure they weren't being overheard, and he added in a low voice, “It's been, like, 24/7 gay jokes from Azimio since I joined glee, okay? And my dad keeps making me watch every sport that's on ESPN just to stop me from 'going soft.' I had to watch soccer last night. It was horrible.”
Santana rolled her eyes. “Fine.” They looked at each other. “So . . . what do you want to write about?”
Karofsky shrugged. “I dunno. Have you ever written a song before?”
“Once,” Santana said. “It was about Sam's enormous mouth. It was pretty much the best song ever.” At the look Karofsky was giving her, she sighed. “Gender non-specific love song?”
“Remember that one time we fake-dated and it was super-awkward? That's how I would feel writing a love song with you.”
“Fine.” Santana thought for a second. “What if . . . I mean, there's one thing we have in common, Dave, and we could definitely write a song about it.”
Karofsky shot upright in his chair. “Do you have a head injury?” he hissed.
“I've just been thinking--”
“Clearly, you haven't.” Karofsky stood up, ready to storm out. Before he left, he leaned over and muttered in Santana's ear. “If you want to declare open season on yourself, that's your business, but don't drag me down with you.”
He stomped out of the choir room. As heads turned to look at her, Santana covered up her surprise at his outburst with a bitchy huff.
* * *
“Wait, what's so bad about a double date?” Puck asked. Finn balked at him.
“Are you serious, dude?”
“Rachel's awesome, Kurt's awesome, Blaine's awesome. I'm not really seeing the problem here.” They stopped walking so Puck could open his locker.
“Do you remember when I dated Quinn the first time,” Finn said, “when we would sit around talking about which Super Mario game was the best until she called me a thick-headed ignorant moose?”
“Moose? I don't remember a moose.”
“Whatever, the point is, imagine that conversation, except you're Quinn, and we're talking about the 1964 Tony Awards.”
It took a second for Puck's brain to figure out the metaphor, but as soon as it clicked, his eyes grew wide.
“That's rough, man.” He put his backpack in his locker and shut it again. They continued walking.
“So how do you deal with it when Lauren gets all crazy about Twilight and stuff?” Finn asked.
“I look at her boobs,” Puck said. When Finn stopped to consider it, Puck smacked him in the arm. “Dude, I was kidding. She would smother me with them if she caught me doing that. Which, I mean, best way to die ever, but still.”
“Okay, well, what do you do, then?”
“It doesn't really come up that often,” Puck said. “I mean, we mostly talk about stuff we both like, y'know? I guess when it does, I just think it's pretty cool that there's something that makes my girl that happy. And,” he lowered his voice, “okay, sometimes I look at her boobs. But respectfully. And mostly because she gets all hot and bothered when she talks about Edward Cullen and I know that--”
“Right,” Finn cut him off. The bell rang and Puck slapped him on the back before heading off to class. Finn looked just as confused about everything as ever.
* * *
Azimio stared down a freshman who dared to be in his and Karofsky's path. “Writing a song?” he said once the kid was appropriately cowering. “That is--”
“--the gayest thing you've ever heard of in your life, yeah, I know,” Karofsky groaned. “Seriously, do you know any other words? Can't something just be dumb for once?”
“If it wasn't so homosexual, it could be,” Azimio shot back.
“You need to knock it off with the gay jokes,” Karofsky said.
Azimio stopped walking. “Why? Just because you're in glee with a bunch of fancy-pants guys-who-kiss-guys?”
“Because it's not funny,” Karofsky said.
“I think it's pretty funny.”
“It's not.” Karofsky narrowed his eyes. “It's just a thing. I don't know why we ever made a big deal about it.”
Azimio just stared at him. “Oh my god. You were abducted by aliens. You were abducted by gay aliens, and they plugged your head into their big gay computer like in The Matrix. That's the only explanation for all of this.”
“Dude,” Karofsky rolled his eyes, “I've grown. I got educated. You should probably do the same.”
“I wanna still pee standing up, thanks,” Azimio said.
Karofsky shook his head angrily, slammed the nearest locker with his hand, and stormed off.
* * *
The next day, Puck, Lauren, Artie, Sam, Quinn, and Mercedes gathered in the choir room to work on their song. Sam sat with his guitar in his lap and read his rhyming dictionary.
“What about, 'I love you as you are, don't get hit by a car' . . .”
“That's awful,” Quinn said. She was sitting at the piano, and she absently plunked a few notes before adding, “Besides, if Finn ends up singing it, we don't want to bring up his complex and have him screw up the performance.”
“It might keep him from kissing anyone onstage again,” Sam pointed out.
Mercedes threw her dictionary to the ground. “This is so much harder than last time.”
Lauren had been pacing back and forth behind Puck, but now she wandered over and sat at the drum set. “Last time we had New York for inspiration.” She paused. “Even if nothing we wrote actually had anything to do with New York.”
“I think we should just do a mash-up of 'Trouty Mouth,' 'Big-Ass Heart,' 'Hell to the No,' and 'My Cup,'” Artie said.
Mercedes looked at him. “So, like, 'Hell to My Big-Ass Trouty Mouth'?”
“That's genius,” Puck said. “Sam can sing it. It would seriously sell a hundred million copies on i-Tunes. What's the next step up from platinum?”
“Adamantium?” Sam ventured.
“You are so lucky I find your nerdiness endearing,” Mercedes said.
“Hey, you got the reference,” Sam said. “That means--” he switched to his Darth Vader voice, “--I'm turning you to the Dark Side.”
She giggled and smacked him on the arm. Quinn good-naturedly rolled her eyes at both of them.
“What if we just tried improvising something?” Lauren asked. “Like, over a beat.” She began to hit the bass drum pedal in a steady quarter note rhythm. Artie nodded his head along and started drumming on the arms of his wheelchair. The others started joining in, each adding their own part.
“I know this doesn't help at all,” Artie said, “but this really sounds like the began of 'Cecilia' by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Yeah, it totally does,” Puck agreed.
“What song?” Sam said.
“Dude, you've never listened to Simon and Garfunkel?”
“You listen to Simon and Garfunkel?” Mercedes asked.
“Yeah, I discovered them when I was trying to get into your pants sophomore year.”
“When you were what now?” Sam asked. Mercedes just patted him on the head as Puck plowed on.
“Yeah, it turns out that Art Garfunkel? Not black.” He held out his hands to Sam. “Anyway, give me your guitar and we'll sing it for you.”
Reluctantly, Sam handed over his instrument. Puck put the strap over his shoulder and looked back at Lauren, who was now shaking a shaker in addition to playing the bass drum.
“Think you can hold us down, babe?”
“You got it, Puckerman,” Lauren said back. Puck turned to the others and nodded at them to come in.
“Celia, you're breakin' my heart,” they sang. “You're shaking my confidence daily.” Puck picked up the guitar part. “Oh, Cecilia, I'm down on my knees. I'm beggin' you please to come home. Come on home.”
Sam walked over to the drum set and picked up a set of sticks, which he used to start playing both the floor tom and a nearby music stand. This freed up the rest of the group to dance around the room a little bit without losing the beat, but they still clapped their hands or slapped their thighs (or sometimes, each others' thighs and other body parts).
“Makin' love in the afternoon
with Cecilia, up in my bedroom.
I got up to wash my face,
when I come back to bed,
someone's taken my place.
Celia,
you're breakin' my heart.
You're shaking my confidence daily.
Oh, Cecilia,
I'm down on my knees.
I'm beggin' you please to come home.
Come on home.
Jubilation,
she loves me again.
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing.
Jubilation,
she loves me again.
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing.”
By the end of the song, Sam was joining in on the singing, and they all finished with a post-performance glow.
Their happiness was short-lived, however.
“So, about that original song . . .” Quinn sighed, and they dejectedly picked up their rhyming dictionaries and pads of paper to go back to work.
* * *
“Thanks for letting me sit up front,” Finn looked over his shoulder to the backseat, where Blaine was sitting with Rachel.
“No problem,” Blaine said. “You need the leg room.”
Kurt's eyes flicked up off the road to look at his boyfriend in the rear view mirror. “Yes, that's something less of a concern for Blaine.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“You guys,” Rachel cut in, “we're going out for a night on the town!”
“We're going to Breadstix,” Kurt said derisively.
“That's on the town for Lima,” Rachel pointed out. “Anyway, if we're going out, I think we need appropriate music.”
“Very true,” Blaine said. He leaned as far forward as he could with his seat belt on and grabbed Kurt's i-Pod. “Let's give this sound system a workout.”
A brief intro played, and the rest of the people in the car grinned as they realized what song Blaine had picked.
“I came to dance, dance, dance, dance,” Blaine sang. “I hit the floor 'cause that's my plans, plans, plans, plans.” He leaned forward and sang directly in Kurt's ear. “I'm wearing all my favorite brands, brands, brands, brands.”
One hand on the wheel, Kurt tugged at his shirt in time with the repeated words and put on his best swagger face.
“Give me some space for both my hands, hands, hands, hands. You, you.”
Finn took up the melody next, chair-dancing as enthusiastically as the confines of the car (and his own talent) would let him.
“'Cause it goes on and on and on.
And it goes on and on and on, yeah.”
Kurt sang lead on the chorus, with the rest of his companions providing appropriate backup. As everyone else lifted their hands up, Kurt again made sure to keep one of his on the wheel, but driving didn't get in the way of his dancing.
“I throw my hand up in the air sometimes,
sayin' ay-oh,
gotta let go.
I wanna celebrate and live my life,
sayin' ay-oh,
baby, let's go.”
Lead vocals passed back over to Blaine.
“'Cause we gon' rock this club.
We gon' go all night.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.
'Cause I told you once,
now I told you twice.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.”
Rachel cut in to sing the bridge, grabbing Blaine's hands and over-emoting at him.
“I'm gonna take it all out.
I'm gonna be the last one standing.
Higher over all, I,
I'm gonna be the last one landing.
'Cause I, I, I believe it,
and I, I, I,
I just want it all.
I just want it all.
I'm gonna put my hands in the air, now.
Ha-hands in the air.
Put your hands in the air, air, air, air, ai-ai-ai-ai-air.”
Kurt drove on, and they all continued to dance in their seats with wild, dorky abandon.
“I throw my hand up in the air sometimes,
sayin' ay-oh,
gotta let go.
I wanna celebrate and live my life,
sayin' ay-oh,
baby, let's go.
'Cause we gon' rock this club.
We gon' go all night.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.
'Cause I told you once,
now I told you twice.
We gon' light it up
like it's dynamite.”
* * *
Once they were inside Breadstix, though, the double date left something to be desired for Finn.
“You have to give credit to the originator,” Rachel said.
“But I think you're forgetting: it's Patti LuPone,” Kurt said.
“C'mon, now,” Blaine cut in. “We can't have this conversation without bringing up Bette. We just can't.”
Over Blaine's shoulder, Finn spotted Mike and Tina being seated at a table. “I need to use the bathroom,” he said suddenly, earning him weird looks from the rest of the table. “I'll be right back.”
Finn walked across the restaurant and, after looking back to make Rachel was once again embroiled in a Broadway debate, he slid himself into Mike and Tina's booth.
“Oh man, it's so good to see you guys,” he said. He grabbed a breadstick out of their container and chomped down on it. Mike side-eyed him while Tina looked back at rest of Finn's group.
“Isn't there somewhere else you should be?” she asked. “Like, with your girlfriend?”
“You don't understand,” Finn said. “When she starts talking about Broadway, it's like, tunnel-vision. Like those holes they cut through redwoods, or whatever.”
Mike and Tina exchanged a look. “What do you and Rachel talk about, anyway?” Mike asked.
Finn shrugged. “I dunno. Glee, mostly.” He thought about it. “College. Our relationship. Sometimes she talks about musicals and I zone out.”
“That's . . . not a very wide range of topics,” Tina said. Mike nodded in agreement.
“Well, what do you guys talk about?” Finn asked defensively.
“Everything,” Mike said simply.
“Movies, books, gaming, dance, our families,” Tina explained. “A lot of stuff. We don't have to duck out of conversations with each other because we're not interested in what the other person has to say.” She paused. “Why do you?”
“I don't,” Finn said. Mike raised his eyebrows. “Usually. Look, I'm not saying it's easy to date Rachel. But I love her.” He glanced over at his table, where Rachel was laughing at something Kurt had said. “I just don't get her all the time.”
Mike and Tina exchanged another look. “Okay, dude,” Mike said. “But if you sit here any longer, she's gonna wonder where you went.”
“Yeah,” Finn said. “You guys have a good night, all right?” He got up from the table.
“You, too,” Tina said. She smiled at Finn as he walked away and then looked at Mike. “I say they break up by Sectionals.”
“I give them at least 'til Spring Break,” Mike replied.
Back at his table, Finn sat down.
“You ran into Mike and Tina?” Rachel said, reaching over and grabbing his hand.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, a little abashed to be called out on it. “I guess they're celebrating Date Night, too.”
“Well, I think we've talked enough about Broadway,” Rachel said. “Blaine, do you want to discuss football with Finn while Kurt and I admire how handsome our boyfriends are?”
“Uh, I guess,” Blaine said. He glanced over at Finn. “So, the Packers are looking pretty good again, huh?”
“Aaron Rodgers is kind of a bad ass,” Finn said.
Kurt leaned over and stole a fry off of Blaine's plate. “He's pretty cute, too.”
“That's true,” Blaine said.
“He's a good-looking dude,” Finn agreed. When the others stared at him, he said, “What? I'm straight, not blind.”
“I guess I'll have to look this guy up if you think so highly of him,” Rachel smirked, and she rested her head on Finn's shoulder as he continued to chat with Blaine about the Superbowl.
* * *
Karofsky walked past the auditorium, but he stopped when he heard music coming from it. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then he slipped inside.
Brittany, Mike, and Tina were onstage, ostensibly working on their original song, but they seemed to have gotten distracted. A karaoke track blared out of a boombox that was sitting on the piano. Karofksy leaned against the back wall of the auditorium and watched as Mike pulled Brittany into a ballroom-dance hold.
“Clock strikes upon the hour,” Brittany sang, and she and Mike began to dance together. “And the sun begins to fade.”
“Still enough time to figure out
how to chase my blues away.
I've done all right up 'til now.
It's the light of day that shows me how,
and when the night falls
the loneliness calls.”
Mike spun her across the stage to Tina, who caught her. They changed grip so that Brittany was the one who was leading, and then they launched into the chorus while doing choreography similar to what she had been doing with Mike.
“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.”
They switched roles again and Tina gave Brittany a twirl back over to Mike.
“I've been in love and lost my senses,
spinning through the town.”
Brittany let go of Mike and turned back to dance with Tina for the next two lines.
“Sooner or later, the feeling ends,
and I wind up feeling down.”
Mike came up behind Brittany and reached around her to grab Tina's hand and waist, effectively sandwiching Brittany in the middle while the other two danced.
“I need someone who'll take a chance
on a love that burns hot enough to last.
And when the night falls--”
Mike adjusted so that he had Tina's hand in one hand and Brittany's hand in the other before spinning them out so he had a girl on either side of him.
“--my lonely heart calls.”
Mike let go of Brittany's hand and turned to Tina. They began to do the same dance Tina and Brittany had done during the first chorus. This time, Brittany was left to sing by herself on the side of the stage.
“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody,
I wanna feel the heat with somebody.
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody,
with somebody who loves me.”
The song ended, and Mike and Tina were left panting. Even so, they pulled Brittany into a three-way hug.
Karofsky still stood at the back of the auditorium, his arms folded across his chest. Scowling, he turned and left.
* * *
“We need to talk,” Karofsky said, approaching Santana's locker.
“Then talk,” she said. She pulled a folder out of her backpack and put it in her locker.
“Not here,” he said. When Santana rolled her eyes at him, he shut her locker door on her.
“Excuse you!” she said, but Karofsky was already pulling her down the hall.
And into the janitor's closet.
“Really?” Santana said as Karofsky pulled the chain to turn on the light. “The only thing this room is good for is sex, and that's about as likely to happen between us as it is between Michele and Marcus Bachmann.”
“I saw Brittany performing in the auditorium,” Karofsky said.
Santana's expression softened at the mention of Brittany, but she didn't acknowledge it. “So? How is this news?”
“She was dancing with Mike and Tina and singing some song about wanting to dance with somebody who loves her and she's clearly still into you,” Karofsky said. “You're being kind of a bitch by going around with that other chick.”
“What?” Santana's jaw dropped. “Okay, so one: how are you the Lez Whisperer, all of a sudden, and two: since when is it your business who I date? And since when do you care?”
“You're the one who wants to come out,” Karofsky said. “And I heard what she sang to you before. It'll be a pretty crappy move if you come out and still won't date with her.”
“If I come out, it's going to be for me, not for anyone else,” Santana snapped. “And I'm still failing to see what damn you have to give about all this.”
“Maybe I just want to be a better person, okay?” Karofksy said. “Maybe I want to stop being a dick and start caring about other people's feelings. Maybe that's something you should think about doing, too.”
Santana sneered at him. “That's tough talk coming from the guy who called me drunk at the three in the morning to tell me about the time he almost hate-kissed Kurt Hummel.”
Karofsky winced, but he recovered quickly. “You don't know how good you've got it, Lopez,” he said. “You've got friends who'll accept you. You've got two people who are in love with you. I'm never gonna have any of that.”
“So it's a jealousy thing? Sweetie, you're gonna have to take it down a notch.” Santana's voice dripped with fake-sincerity. “Green is not your color. As a gay man, you should already know that.”
“People need to stop telling me what gay men are supposed to know,” Karofsky glowered. “Fine, do what you want. I don't care anyway.”
“Good,” Santana said, a little louder than she needed to.
“Good!” Karofsky shouted back, and he slammed the door of the janitor's closet behind him.
Outside, he looked to his left and saw Kurt casually leaning against the lockers, Mercedes with her arm hooked around his. Finn was talking to them, and something Kurt said made him laugh and lean over to playfully knock shoulders with his step-brother.
Turning to his right, Karofsky saw Brittany walking down the hallway with Quinn. Quinn was showing her something on a pad of paper, and the easy way they walked together in spite of Brittany's sexuality, the way Brittany's hand rested on Quinn's shoulder as their faces hovered less than an inch apart--it triggered something in him.
“When there's nowhere else to run,” he found himself singing in his head as he fumed his way toward the exit, “is there room for one more son? One more son?”
At his house, Karofsky shut the door to his room and shoved his i-Pod into its dock. There was no mirror in his room, but he stared at his reflection in the glass of his old boxy television set.
“I wanna stand up,” he sang out loud along to the recording.
“I wanna let go.
You know, you know, no, you don't, you don't.
I wanna shine on
in the hearts of men.
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand.
Another head aches,
another heart breaks.
I'm so much older than I can take.
And my affection,
well, it comes and goes.
I need direction to perfection,
no no no no--”
“Help me out.” He closed his eyes and imagined all the people he could have leaned on for support if he had lived his life differently--Kurt, Finn, Santana--he could hear them singing along with him.
“Yeah, you know you got to help me out.
Yeah, oh, don't you put me on the back burner.
You know you got to help me out, yeah.”
Karofsky opened his eyes and he was back alone in his room.
“And when there's nowhere else to run,
is there room for one more son?
These changes, ain't changin' me,
the cold-hearted boy I used to be.”
He closed his eyes again, and this time he imagined himself onstage with the rest of New Directions. The beat dropped out, and he stepped forward.
“I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.”
Finn and Kurt stepped forward to join him on the next line.
“I got soul, but I'm not a soldier.”
Then Santana and Brittany.
“I got soul, but I'm not not a soldier.”
And then Puck and Sam, Mike and Tina, and more and more members of glee stepped forward to the front of the stage on every subsequent line. By the time Mercedes was wailing on the high notes, the whole club was standing with him.
He squinted through the stage lights and into the audience. He swore he could see Azimio out there watching.
“Over and in,” Karofsky sang, “last call for sin. While everyone's lost, the battle is won. With all these things that I've done.”
Once more, he opened his eyes and returned to reality. The music started to fade out, and he softly whispered the last lines:
“If you can hold on.
If you can hold on.”
The emotional exertion caused him to slump down on his bed in a daze. He'd sat there for less than a second before there was a pounding on his door.
“Turn that racket down, David!” his father yelled.
Karofsky fought back his tears and let himself collapse the rest of the way onto his bed.
Part 2