Chasing Dreams - Chapter 2
Title: Chasing Dreams
Author: raven_kerry
Beta-reader: onthaedge
Artist: marsmaywander
Word-count: 44’038
Rating: M
Summary: Growing up as a psychic in Ohio is difficult. Throw in being gay and a dream-boyfriend and it’s that much more difficult.
Kurt has always been able to see things through other people’s eyes, hear their thoughts and feel their pain and emotions as if they were his own. It’s difficult to go on when you literally feel how much people hate you. This is his story.
Pairing: Kadam
Warnings: suicide attempt and ideation, mentioned non-con towards adults and children, violence, pagan beliefs
Author’s Note: A thousand thanks to my beta and artist for choosing to work with me. It’s been amazing. :)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Epilogue | Excerpt: Of Meetings
Chapter 2
Burt gathered Kurt into his arms as his boy whimpered in his sleep. A few years had passed now, since Kurt had first told him of the visions and Burt cursed the ability he’d unknowingly given his son.
Kurt would tell him of the things he saw. Some of them were fairly innocent. He remembered how wistful Kurt had been when describing a dream of two brothers playing together. Sometimes it would be watching the weather on some distant parts of the globe, where people were trying to get their belongings into safety before the storm hit. Sometimes he’d see people buried under the mud and feel their panic of trying to survive. Those were worse. Still, the worst were when he witnessed the atrocities that humans would inflict on one another - and feel it too.
Burt could still remember the first time that Kurt had woken him up in the middle of the night to cuddle, telling him about how the father of a girl, he knew at school, had raped her for the first time that night.
As soon as he’d gotten Kurt to sleep, he’d given an anonymous call to the police to inform them. It was all over the newspapers the next day. The girl had been put into psychiatric and foster care and Kurt had never seen her again.
At least that time though, Kurt had known the identity of the victim. It was happening more and more often now, that Kurt didn’t know the identity. He didn’t see anything that could help identify them at all - so there was nothing they could do. Burt wouldn’t - couldn’t - tell the police that his son was having these visions. They’d either put him in an insane asylum or use him. Burt didn’t want that to happen. Kurt wasn’t even a pre-teen yet.
Still, the worst thing for Burt was the helplessness. All he could do was watch. Some days, like today, he would wake to the sound of Kurt screaming and do all he could to comfort him, though. He couldn’t wake him up. He’d tried before, but it was as if Kurt wasn’t actually in his body at that point in time.
He wondered how long Kurt would be able to deal with this. Already Kurt was trying to find ways to deal with it. Sometimes he’d sing, sometimes he’d play the piano. When it got really bad, though, he’d write up what he’d seen and save it in a special directory on their computer that was password protected. When Burt saw Kurt take up drawing outside of school, he knew that something had to be done. The drawings were morbid and dark. Scenes that came directly out of the visions. At first they were fairly obscure, seeing as Kurt wasn’t that good at drawing. They quickly grew more and more detailed as time went on. Seeing some of those pictures sent shivers up Burt’s spine.
Still, the question remained - what could be done? Burt wanted to protect Kurt more than anything in the world, but he didn’t know how. He tried getting sleeping aids, but those did nothing against the visions. Kurt was constantly tired and crabby, afraid to sleep but still sleeping. Burt always felt guilty when he came home from the shop to see that Kurt had made supper for them and was dozing at his place at the table, waiting for Burt to get home.
Burt noted that Kurt had stopped whimpering. Soon after, he felt the flutter of eyelashes opening against the exposed skin of his collar bone. He asked, “What was it this time?”
“Some robbers invaded Miss Peterson’s house. The dog tried to stop them, but they killed it. Luckily she was at her lover’s tonight, since his wife is out of town.
Burt blinked. “And how do you know that?”
Kurt shrugged sluggishly. “She was thinking about it very loudly in class the other day. She thinks that she can still lure him away from his wife. She doesn’t know that his wife is pregnant and just hasn’t told her husband yet. Though, to be honest, she’s not entirely sure if it’s her husband’s child or the child of one of her many affairs. They’re a good match if you ask me.”
Burt frowned and asked dismayed, “What?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Mr. Johnston is having an affair with Miss Peterson. Mrs. Johnston is having more than one affair and is pregnant. She’s going to pass it off as Mr. Johnston’s child, but doesn’t really know if it is.”
Burt blinked again. “But they just got married last year. And they seem to be happy,” he commented, shocked at this new discovery.
Kurt shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he’s having more than one affair too and it’s part of their agreement. I just overheard Miss Peterson at school, and Mrs. Johnston at the supermarket.”
Burt commented, “You know, Kurt, you’re growing up way too fast with these visions. Even I have difficulty wrapping my head around this and for you it’s just a matter of fact.”
Kurt frowned slightly. “It is a matter of fact. I wouldn’t want that for my life. I don’t want to have someone who sleeps with other people. But they’re happy with it, I guess.”
Burt ruffled Kurt’s hair. “That’s good at least. Keep your own priorities straight. Just because everyone else around you doesn’t have their priorities straight doesn’t mean you should follow suit.”
“You and mom taught me better than that, dad.”
Burt rubbed his slowly balding hear, a slightly embarrassed smiled on his lips. “Whatever. It’s still early. Do you want to try and sleep some more?”
Kurt nodded. “Yeah. But, dad?”
“Yes, Kurt?”
“Do you think you could stay? I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Burt smiled softly and slid further onto the bed. “Sure, kid. Anything you need.”
“Thanks.” Kurt smiled as his breath evened out and Burt felt like crying. Instead, he protectively held his son as sleep took him.
With concern Burt watched as Kurt grew more and more despondent as time passed. He did everything he could think of to help him. On one of the days he stayed home from work sick, he noticed how it seemed to always be worse when Kurt had just gotten home from school. The day he found their lawn furniture nailed to their roof he thought he might understand why. Still, there was unfortunately nothing he could do unless Kurt actually talked to him. Burt waited and waited, but all he heard of from Kurt were the visions and nightmares he had at night.
One day during Kurt’s freshman year in high school, Burt was at the shop doing an oil change when he felt a familiar sense of dread come over him. He cleaned his hands and addressed one of his senior workers, Joey, “Hey, Joey. I just remembered that I promised Kurt to pick him up from school today. Could you close down the shop tonight?”
Joey shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like you to forget something related to Kurt, though, boss.”
“Yeah, well, it was sudden. Thanks for jumping in. If I can, I’ll come back, but don’t count on it.”
“Sure, boss. You can count on me.”
Burt didn’t even bother to change out of his work clothes. He jumped into his truck and drove home, hoping that Kurt had made it home at least. If not, he’d check everywhere on his usual route home.
Burt sighed in relief when he found the door to the house unlocked. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t have to look very far for Kurt. And, who knows, maybe it wasn’t Kurt. Maybe it was someone else who was in trouble. Burt silently promised himself that for Kurt’s birthday he was getting him that IPhone he’d been wanting for ages. The shop was doing better all the time, so he could easily afford it.
He went downstairs into Kurt’s bedroom and saw a note on the table. With dread he picked it up and read:
Hi dad
I’m so sorry. I tried. I tried so hard to be strong for you. But everywhere I go is hate and dislike. Most of it aimed towards me, because I’m different. I just I can’t handle it anymore. Not with the visions on top of that.
I love you dad. I’m so sorry for leaving you. But it’s so painful feeling and hearing everything people are thinking of and feeling for me. I’m sorry to leave you alone. I’m sorry that I’m following in my great-grandmother’s footsteps.
I’m just out of options. I’ve seen too much, felt too much and heard too much. Anymore of this and I fear I’ll go insane. Maybe I already am. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this.
Goodbye dad. I love you.
Much love
Kurt
Burt stood there staring at the letter for a moment before the contents sunk in. He felt his heart pounding and his throat close up. Still, he knew he couldn’t surrender to the feeling. Maybe he was early enough. He knew his son. Kurt cared way too much about his clothes, skin and looks to actually go about one of the ways where his death would be instant. That left ingesting some type of pill, like the various sleeping pills he’d gotten to see if they helped Kurt with the visions. Burt’s eyes widened in fear as he came to this realization.
He wrenched open the door to Kurt’s ensuite frantically, where Kurt was passed out on the floor. True enough, a bottle of sleeping pills lay empty on the floor next to Kurt’s unconscious form. Burt didn’t need to check if Kurt was alive. He could still feel him there. He knew that his son was still whole, unlike Elizabeth when he saw her after her death. She’d been so empty afterwards. He picked Kurt and the pill-bottle up and carried them upstairs to the ground floor, where he laid him on the couch and the bottle on the table.
Kurt muttered, “Daddy?” He opened his dilated eyes wearily.
“Yes, Kurt?” Burt patted his cheek.
“I’m sorry for being weak.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, Kurt. I’m going to call the ambulance, okay? Then they can fix you up.”
Kurt slowly shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”
But struggled not to cry. “I know, kiddo. I know. But I can’t let you go. I love you too much, okay?”
“Your love feels nice,” Kurt muttered. “So much nicer than hate. Love is warm and hate is so cold. Almost as cold as indifference. School is so cold.”
Burt said, “And I’ll love you always. Now, hold on for me, okay? So I can continue to give you that love.”
“But everything else is so cold.”
“I’ll get you the iPhone you wanted,” Burt pleaded.
Kurt smiled softly. “Doesn’t matter now.”
Finally Burt just gave up talking to his delirious son and called 911. He told them the medication Kurt had taken and soon enough they had gotten there. Burt went with them in the ambulance, praying to a god he’d long since ceased to believe in, to save his son.
One of the EMTs asked, “You say he was delirious but still responsive when you found him, right?”
Burt nodded. “Yeah.”
The EMT inquired further, “When did he stop being responsive altogether?”
Burt swallowed, his voice tightening as he replied, “Shortly before you arrived.”
The paramedic replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “That’s good.”
Burt looked at him aghast and demanded, “How could anything be good right now?”
The EMT shrugged. “He isn’t dead. That’s good.”
Burt snapped, “Excuse me if that isn’t all that big of a comfort.”
“It never is. There isn’t that much we can do until we get to the hospital and can pump his stomach. He isn’t critical yet. Usually it takes longer for suicide attempts to be found when they’re somewhere that isn’t public. The attempter usually tries at a time when he knows no one else is going to be around. ”
Burt remained silent.
The EMT shrugged, “If all of the cases I’ve seen had been found as quickly as this one, I’m sure we’d have a lot less successful suicides around here. Well, as long as they don’t go the instant route, like putting a bullet through their heads. Isn’t much you can do there except pick up the pieces.”
Burt glared at the man. “That does not make me feel better about this.”
A female EMT smiled at Burt and told him sadly, “Don’t mind him. He’s been doing this so long he’s become desensitized to a lot of this. Still, he’s one of our best and if he thinks you found your son in time, then that means he’s probably going to survive.”
Suddenly the machines started acting strange. The paramedic Burt had been talking to cursed as he tried to figure out what was going on, while Burt let himself cry for his kid. The emergency team might not recognize what they were seeing, but Burt knew what it was. It was the first time he’d seen it registered on medical machines, but his son had left. Burt silently cursed. Couldn’t Kurt get a break from the visions for once?
When they arrived at the hospital, they left Burt in the waiting room while they went to pump Kurt’s stomach and try to figure out what the heck was going on with the teenager and why he seemed to be in a coma, when there was no medical reason for it at all and no warning signs.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Author: raven_kerry
Beta-reader: onthaedge
Artist: marsmaywander
Word-count: 44’038
Rating: M
Summary: Growing up as a psychic in Ohio is difficult. Throw in being gay and a dream-boyfriend and it’s that much more difficult.
Kurt has always been able to see things through other people’s eyes, hear their thoughts and feel their pain and emotions as if they were his own. It’s difficult to go on when you literally feel how much people hate you. This is his story.
Pairing: Kadam
Warnings: suicide attempt and ideation, mentioned non-con towards adults and children, violence, pagan beliefs
Author’s Note: A thousand thanks to my beta and artist for choosing to work with me. It’s been amazing. :)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Epilogue | Excerpt: Of Meetings
Chapter 2
Burt gathered Kurt into his arms as his boy whimpered in his sleep. A few years had passed now, since Kurt had first told him of the visions and Burt cursed the ability he’d unknowingly given his son.
Kurt would tell him of the things he saw. Some of them were fairly innocent. He remembered how wistful Kurt had been when describing a dream of two brothers playing together. Sometimes it would be watching the weather on some distant parts of the globe, where people were trying to get their belongings into safety before the storm hit. Sometimes he’d see people buried under the mud and feel their panic of trying to survive. Those were worse. Still, the worst were when he witnessed the atrocities that humans would inflict on one another - and feel it too.
Burt could still remember the first time that Kurt had woken him up in the middle of the night to cuddle, telling him about how the father of a girl, he knew at school, had raped her for the first time that night.
As soon as he’d gotten Kurt to sleep, he’d given an anonymous call to the police to inform them. It was all over the newspapers the next day. The girl had been put into psychiatric and foster care and Kurt had never seen her again.
At least that time though, Kurt had known the identity of the victim. It was happening more and more often now, that Kurt didn’t know the identity. He didn’t see anything that could help identify them at all - so there was nothing they could do. Burt wouldn’t - couldn’t - tell the police that his son was having these visions. They’d either put him in an insane asylum or use him. Burt didn’t want that to happen. Kurt wasn’t even a pre-teen yet.
Still, the worst thing for Burt was the helplessness. All he could do was watch. Some days, like today, he would wake to the sound of Kurt screaming and do all he could to comfort him, though. He couldn’t wake him up. He’d tried before, but it was as if Kurt wasn’t actually in his body at that point in time.
He wondered how long Kurt would be able to deal with this. Already Kurt was trying to find ways to deal with it. Sometimes he’d sing, sometimes he’d play the piano. When it got really bad, though, he’d write up what he’d seen and save it in a special directory on their computer that was password protected. When Burt saw Kurt take up drawing outside of school, he knew that something had to be done. The drawings were morbid and dark. Scenes that came directly out of the visions. At first they were fairly obscure, seeing as Kurt wasn’t that good at drawing. They quickly grew more and more detailed as time went on. Seeing some of those pictures sent shivers up Burt’s spine.
Still, the question remained - what could be done? Burt wanted to protect Kurt more than anything in the world, but he didn’t know how. He tried getting sleeping aids, but those did nothing against the visions. Kurt was constantly tired and crabby, afraid to sleep but still sleeping. Burt always felt guilty when he came home from the shop to see that Kurt had made supper for them and was dozing at his place at the table, waiting for Burt to get home.
Burt noted that Kurt had stopped whimpering. Soon after, he felt the flutter of eyelashes opening against the exposed skin of his collar bone. He asked, “What was it this time?”
“Some robbers invaded Miss Peterson’s house. The dog tried to stop them, but they killed it. Luckily she was at her lover’s tonight, since his wife is out of town.
Burt blinked. “And how do you know that?”
Kurt shrugged sluggishly. “She was thinking about it very loudly in class the other day. She thinks that she can still lure him away from his wife. She doesn’t know that his wife is pregnant and just hasn’t told her husband yet. Though, to be honest, she’s not entirely sure if it’s her husband’s child or the child of one of her many affairs. They’re a good match if you ask me.”
Burt frowned and asked dismayed, “What?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Mr. Johnston is having an affair with Miss Peterson. Mrs. Johnston is having more than one affair and is pregnant. She’s going to pass it off as Mr. Johnston’s child, but doesn’t really know if it is.”
Burt blinked again. “But they just got married last year. And they seem to be happy,” he commented, shocked at this new discovery.
Kurt shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he’s having more than one affair too and it’s part of their agreement. I just overheard Miss Peterson at school, and Mrs. Johnston at the supermarket.”
Burt commented, “You know, Kurt, you’re growing up way too fast with these visions. Even I have difficulty wrapping my head around this and for you it’s just a matter of fact.”
Kurt frowned slightly. “It is a matter of fact. I wouldn’t want that for my life. I don’t want to have someone who sleeps with other people. But they’re happy with it, I guess.”
Burt ruffled Kurt’s hair. “That’s good at least. Keep your own priorities straight. Just because everyone else around you doesn’t have their priorities straight doesn’t mean you should follow suit.”
“You and mom taught me better than that, dad.”
Burt rubbed his slowly balding hear, a slightly embarrassed smiled on his lips. “Whatever. It’s still early. Do you want to try and sleep some more?”
Kurt nodded. “Yeah. But, dad?”
“Yes, Kurt?”
“Do you think you could stay? I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Burt smiled softly and slid further onto the bed. “Sure, kid. Anything you need.”
“Thanks.” Kurt smiled as his breath evened out and Burt felt like crying. Instead, he protectively held his son as sleep took him.
With concern Burt watched as Kurt grew more and more despondent as time passed. He did everything he could think of to help him. On one of the days he stayed home from work sick, he noticed how it seemed to always be worse when Kurt had just gotten home from school. The day he found their lawn furniture nailed to their roof he thought he might understand why. Still, there was unfortunately nothing he could do unless Kurt actually talked to him. Burt waited and waited, but all he heard of from Kurt were the visions and nightmares he had at night.
One day during Kurt’s freshman year in high school, Burt was at the shop doing an oil change when he felt a familiar sense of dread come over him. He cleaned his hands and addressed one of his senior workers, Joey, “Hey, Joey. I just remembered that I promised Kurt to pick him up from school today. Could you close down the shop tonight?”
Joey shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like you to forget something related to Kurt, though, boss.”
“Yeah, well, it was sudden. Thanks for jumping in. If I can, I’ll come back, but don’t count on it.”
“Sure, boss. You can count on me.”
Burt didn’t even bother to change out of his work clothes. He jumped into his truck and drove home, hoping that Kurt had made it home at least. If not, he’d check everywhere on his usual route home.
Burt sighed in relief when he found the door to the house unlocked. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t have to look very far for Kurt. And, who knows, maybe it wasn’t Kurt. Maybe it was someone else who was in trouble. Burt silently promised himself that for Kurt’s birthday he was getting him that IPhone he’d been wanting for ages. The shop was doing better all the time, so he could easily afford it.
He went downstairs into Kurt’s bedroom and saw a note on the table. With dread he picked it up and read:
Hi dad
I’m so sorry. I tried. I tried so hard to be strong for you. But everywhere I go is hate and dislike. Most of it aimed towards me, because I’m different. I just I can’t handle it anymore. Not with the visions on top of that.
I love you dad. I’m so sorry for leaving you. But it’s so painful feeling and hearing everything people are thinking of and feeling for me. I’m sorry to leave you alone. I’m sorry that I’m following in my great-grandmother’s footsteps.
I’m just out of options. I’ve seen too much, felt too much and heard too much. Anymore of this and I fear I’ll go insane. Maybe I already am. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this.
Goodbye dad. I love you.
Much love
Kurt
Burt stood there staring at the letter for a moment before the contents sunk in. He felt his heart pounding and his throat close up. Still, he knew he couldn’t surrender to the feeling. Maybe he was early enough. He knew his son. Kurt cared way too much about his clothes, skin and looks to actually go about one of the ways where his death would be instant. That left ingesting some type of pill, like the various sleeping pills he’d gotten to see if they helped Kurt with the visions. Burt’s eyes widened in fear as he came to this realization.
He wrenched open the door to Kurt’s ensuite frantically, where Kurt was passed out on the floor. True enough, a bottle of sleeping pills lay empty on the floor next to Kurt’s unconscious form. Burt didn’t need to check if Kurt was alive. He could still feel him there. He knew that his son was still whole, unlike Elizabeth when he saw her after her death. She’d been so empty afterwards. He picked Kurt and the pill-bottle up and carried them upstairs to the ground floor, where he laid him on the couch and the bottle on the table.
Kurt muttered, “Daddy?” He opened his dilated eyes wearily.
“Yes, Kurt?” Burt patted his cheek.
“I’m sorry for being weak.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, Kurt. I’m going to call the ambulance, okay? Then they can fix you up.”
Kurt slowly shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”
But struggled not to cry. “I know, kiddo. I know. But I can’t let you go. I love you too much, okay?”
“Your love feels nice,” Kurt muttered. “So much nicer than hate. Love is warm and hate is so cold. Almost as cold as indifference. School is so cold.”
Burt said, “And I’ll love you always. Now, hold on for me, okay? So I can continue to give you that love.”
“But everything else is so cold.”
“I’ll get you the iPhone you wanted,” Burt pleaded.
Kurt smiled softly. “Doesn’t matter now.”
Finally Burt just gave up talking to his delirious son and called 911. He told them the medication Kurt had taken and soon enough they had gotten there. Burt went with them in the ambulance, praying to a god he’d long since ceased to believe in, to save his son.
One of the EMTs asked, “You say he was delirious but still responsive when you found him, right?”
Burt nodded. “Yeah.”
The EMT inquired further, “When did he stop being responsive altogether?”
Burt swallowed, his voice tightening as he replied, “Shortly before you arrived.”
The paramedic replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “That’s good.”
Burt looked at him aghast and demanded, “How could anything be good right now?”
The EMT shrugged. “He isn’t dead. That’s good.”
Burt snapped, “Excuse me if that isn’t all that big of a comfort.”
“It never is. There isn’t that much we can do until we get to the hospital and can pump his stomach. He isn’t critical yet. Usually it takes longer for suicide attempts to be found when they’re somewhere that isn’t public. The attempter usually tries at a time when he knows no one else is going to be around. ”
Burt remained silent.
The EMT shrugged, “If all of the cases I’ve seen had been found as quickly as this one, I’m sure we’d have a lot less successful suicides around here. Well, as long as they don’t go the instant route, like putting a bullet through their heads. Isn’t much you can do there except pick up the pieces.”
Burt glared at the man. “That does not make me feel better about this.”
A female EMT smiled at Burt and told him sadly, “Don’t mind him. He’s been doing this so long he’s become desensitized to a lot of this. Still, he’s one of our best and if he thinks you found your son in time, then that means he’s probably going to survive.”
Suddenly the machines started acting strange. The paramedic Burt had been talking to cursed as he tried to figure out what was going on, while Burt let himself cry for his kid. The emergency team might not recognize what they were seeing, but Burt knew what it was. It was the first time he’d seen it registered on medical machines, but his son had left. Burt silently cursed. Couldn’t Kurt get a break from the visions for once?
When they arrived at the hospital, they left Burt in the waiting room while they went to pump Kurt’s stomach and try to figure out what the heck was going on with the teenager and why he seemed to be in a coma, when there was no medical reason for it at all and no warning signs.
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