FicWad

Things don't get better after the confrontation. I never expected them to, but at least they become more bearable now that I have Blaine and Brendon to talk to in addition to Ryan. We all talk on a regular basis, usually going out to grab coffee after Glee or dinner at Breadstix. They even find other excuses to meet up on weekends, like going to see shows at the community theater.

When it starts to interfere with standing plans with the girls, namely Mercedes, suspicion arises. I tell her about Blaine and Brendon, silently hoping that she won't tell the others.

She doesn't.

She does, however, ask an awful lot of questions about the nature of my relationship to them.

"Are you going out with either of them? Because I think you need to come clean."

"What? No. Not another Jesse/Rachel traitor scenario to overcome." Not that I would have minded saying yes. To be honest, they are both very attractive. "Please, Mercedes, mum's the word."

The look she gives me suggests that I answered a little too quickly. "We'd be happy for you. I mean, we know how lonely you've been."

"Okay, we just hang out. Nothing about glee club even ever comes up," I say, cutting her off abruptly. "It's just nice having someone else to talk to."

"What is that supposed to mean? What about me? What about Ryan? I thought you talked to him about stuff," she says with a hurt expression.

"You know what I mean," I scowl. Someone who could potentially be a boyfriend. I allow a rain check on our standing bowling date for Friday night, and the subject is dropped until further notice.





Karofsky seems to get worse by the day.

The locker shoves don't stop, but by now it's nothing new. Those were never really the main issue, to be honest. Just another set of bruises to hide under my wardrobe and cover with makeup, just my problem to deal with.

But lately, he's becoming more and more difficult to confront.

"Question for you!" He slams my locker door shut when I'm finally alone at the end of the day. I flinch and turn to face him. The game has changed now that I know his secret. "You tell anyone else what happened? How you..." his voice trails down to almost a whisper, "kissed me?"

"You kissed me, Karofsky," I remind him, not bothering to reduce the volume of my voice. I probably shouldn't be getting as much satisfaction from the look of panic that flashes across his face again as he shushes me. I ignore it and continue. "And I understand how hard this is for you, so no, I haven't told anybody else. Neither has Ryan, and he won't.” He wants to, though.

“Good. You better keep it that way. Because if you don’t…”

I expect him to hit me in warning. Just the same things he usually does; shove me into the locker as roughly as possible, let the bruises remind me who’s “in charge”, put me in my place in the social hierarchy. I could roll my eyes and go on with my day because it’s nothing I haven’t been dealing with for the past two years anyway. But he doesn’t. He does something much worse, and I know he means business.

“I’m going to kill you.”




“You have to promise me that this won’t get out, Ryan.”

“Again?” he sighs. “Why not tell everybody? He deserves it after everything he’s done to us.”

“Just… just don’t, okay? He’s even more on edge now. Who knows what he will do if we push things too far.”

Ryan gives me a look that clearly asks what is going on. “Apparently you do.”

I’m just about to respond when I’m suddenly dragged away by my dad on my right and Carole Hudson on my left. They lead me to Finn’s locker, and both of us are beyond confused.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Finn asks. “Is this one of those interventions? Because…”

“If it is, it’s for the both of us,” I answer rapidly, even taking that idea as a plausible answer as to why our parents are here at school. “I was just talking to Ryan, but they bombarded me and forced me to bring them to you.”

And then they started to argue over which of them should tell us… something. Ryan walks past wearing an amused look while I silently beg him to magically turn them sane. As if that would ever happen, but there has to be something that makes sense here.

“Okay, so you know how I drive Carole to work on Tuesday mornings?” my dad launches into an explanation. At least, I think it is, because I don’t know what that fact has to do with them being here. “Well, today I took a little detour and took her into the classroom where Kurt introduced us—very romantic, if I might add—and I—“

“HE PROPOSED!” Carole practically shrieks at Finn and me. And my confusion fades to clarity.

This is probably the best thing I’ve heard all week—no, all month. I immediately take her hand to inspect the ring my dad gave her, beckoning Ryan over to look. For once, he had good taste. I would have thought he’d forgotten how to shop for jewelry after Mom died, but it’s actually a very nice cut.

“Wow, this just… happened?” Finn asks slowly, still in his (admittedly normal) state of confusion. I’m still cooing over Carole’s ring, which has just earned Ryan’s seal of approval.

“We wanted you to be the first to know,” Carole continues breathlessly.

“Well, after those kids in that homeroom,” my dad adds as an afterthought. “Family hug! Come on!” He pulls us all together somewhat awkwardly right in the middle of the hallway, Ryan opting to stand somewhere off to the side. He’s laughing at how silly the situation is, so I shoot him a glare over Carole’s shoulder. I love my family, and shamelessly so.

“I’m so excited! And nervous…” Carole says, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t be!” I assure her. “This is just what I needed. I will take care of it from here.” Ryan steps in next to me with a sigh.

“You’re going to make me your guinea pig, aren’t you?”

“Come on. I need you and your attention to detail to give me good feedback.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs.

“I have a trunk full of wedding magazines hidden under my bed. I’m thinking of a… russet and cognac theme?” I suggest for Ryan to consider. “Those are colors, Finn. Fall wedding colors,” I clarify for my future stepbrother’s benefit. Honestly, he could be so thick; sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in him in the first place. I can’t believe I used to find that charming.

“Alright, but nothing too extravagant, boys. We’re going to use whatever savings we have and we’re going to spend it on the honeymoon,” my dad announces. Beyond that, my mind is racing too fast to listen to anything else. There’s so much to do: the location, the date, the decorations, the catering, the entertainment at the reception, the speeches, the ceremony itself, not to mention the dresses. I have my work cut out for me. “Now listen, Kurt: as the wedding planner, I want you to take care of one thing. I don’t care about the food or the booze at this party, but I want one heck of a band. I’ve been exercising, eating right, and I want to boogie with Carole at this wedding. And I will boogie.”

Ryan actually snorts at that. “This is serious!” I hiss at him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “By all means, continue.” Boogie, really? he mouths at me, and I roll my eyes and concentrate on what my dad has asked me.

“Oh, I know! I’m going to hire the New Directions as the band! Right? It won’t cost you a cent. They’re cheap, they’re available… Long story short, you’re having a glee wedding.”

There is not a single disagreement to this. Yeah, I’m brilliant like that.




“Where on earth did you get those pictures?” Ryan asks, seeing the new addition to my collages in my locker.

I quickly glance at them before grabbing my books, both for class and planning the wedding. “Ask me no questions, and I will tell you no lies.” The internet is a wonderful thing, though, and Blaine and Brendon certainly don’t seem to mind sharing their school pictures with it.

“Yeah, sure. But that is the most stalker-ish thing I’ve ever seen you do, and I remember the Finn phase.”

“Please don’t bring that up. I was in a very dark place when that happened.” The last thing I take from my locker is the cake topper figurine that I was thinking of using. I hold it up to his face. “Thoughts?”

“Doesn’t really resemble the couple as much as it could,” he shrugs. “Dark place or no, it was too much fun to watch.”

“For you, maybe. The only real good thing that came out of that phase was this wedding.” I look again at the cake topper with a sigh. I’ll have to get another one. “He’s actually going to be my brother now, isn’t he?”

“Will the incest fetish rear its ugly head again?” Ryan grins wickedly.

“Oh god, you make it sound so wrong!” I laugh. “It was never like that! It made so much more sense in my head.”

“Sure it did.”

“Go to class!”

And as he walks away, I run into David Karofsky once again. The smile I had is immediately wiped from my face. It’s unfair how he just… towers over me, looking constantly angry at the world but at me with the greatest contempt, and I’m one of the very, very few who know why. Today, though, his expression turns gentle as he eyes the cake topper that’s still in my shaking hands. Somehow, it’s even worse than normal. Like if he tried, I wouldn’t be able to stop him from taking whatever he wanted from me.

“Can I have this?” he asks me, and even though he sounds polite enough I know he isn’t. I can’t even respond. Any sound I let out would come out as a whimper, which is equally unfair. “Thanks.”

Finally, he’s gone.




The next afternoon finds me in the choir room with Ryan, Finn, and my dad. “Hello, and welcome to the Kurt Hummel W--“

“And Ryan Ross,” Ryan interrupts right off the bat.

“Yes, the Kurt Hummel and Ryan Ross Wedding Dance Seminar,” I continue. “Dad: you’re going to have to pull off the first dance with Carole, and if Uncle Andy’s 40th birthday party was any indication, you’re going to need some work.”

“What are you talking about, my moves were great, okay?” he protests. “It was the damn sangria…”

“Right, of course it was,” I roll my eyes. “Remember, you dance to the beat, not the words. Ryan and I will demonstrate. Have you picked out a wedding song yet?”

“Uh… ‘Stairway’ or some Bublé.”

“Okay, so a simple 4.” I nod at Brad, the pianist, to start the music and carry on the instruction. “Gentlemen lead with the left, so watch my feet.”

“Why do I have to be the girl?” Ryan grumbles, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Because I’m the wedding planner and you’re the guinea pig, remember?”

He keeps complaining about it as I count off and we start, but at least he knows the steps well enough to execute them. Once we’re in the swing of it, I call my dad to cut in and pull Finn to his feet.

To say that it’s awkward would be an understatement.

I’m holding my arms up so he can take the leading steps, but he only shifts between his feet and asks, “Can we shut the door? I’m not really comfortable with people watching.”

“What are you talking about?” I frown, dropping my arms in frustration. “You danced in front of a thousand people at Regionals.” I try again.

This time, he reluctantly goes with it, but Karofsky passes by and stops at the doorway. Everyone stops dancing even though Brad admirably keeps playing while he makes an obnoxious and rude gesture and continues on his way. We all stare at the empty frame for a beat.

My dad is the first to actively respond. “What the hell was that?” he questions, as if it’s really that big of a shock that anyone would do something like that.

“It’s nothing, Dad,” I reply tiredly.

“No, he was making fun of you. What the hell is his name?”

“David Karofsky,” Ryan automatically answers. “He’s—“

“Don’t,” I cut him off warningly.

“Then you tell him! Aren’t you sick of this?”

“Tell me what, Kurt?” Dad asks, and I can practically hear his blood pressure rising.

I shake my head, about to tell him that it’s nothing, no big deal. I don’t want to worry him, because he could have another heart attack, and what if he doesn’t wake up this time? But Finn and Ryan leave me no choice.

“Tell him or I will.”

“He’s just been… harassing me for the past couple of weeks,” I allow slowly.

“Harassing you how?” Dad prompts.

“Just shoving me, you know. Giving me a hard time.” I swallow hard.

“There’s more. There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Ryan shoots me a look that clearly says, go ahead and tell him! I know what he means; about the kiss in the locker room and Karofsky’s conflicted emotions. That isn’t even what’s bothering me the most anymore.

But I have to say it. They’ll just keep asking about it if I don’t.

Come on, just like ripping off a band-aid. “He threatened to kill me.”

My dad is instantly out of the room while Finn and Ryan just stare at me in disbelief. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Finn says.

A second later, Ryan explodes. “What the fuck, Kurt! When did this happen?! Why didn’t you tell me, so I could go and fuck up that son of a bitch?!”

“Because that wouldn’t solve anything! Okay? Nothing’s changed!” I run after my dad to make sure he’s okay. He’s under too much stress, and if I don’t stop him from flying off the handle, this could only end badly.





Thankfully, we caught him before anyone got hurt. After we calm him down, it’s time for a meeting with Karofsky, his dad, and the principal. The meeting results in his expulsion, and once it’s in effect it’s like a fog has lifted. The danger isn’t completely gone, but he was by far the worst of all the bullies in this school and I can at least walk without jumping at every turn.

Now I can focus all my attention on what’s really important: the wedding. It’s going to take place this weekend, and I have to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect.





It’s Monday after the wedding, and everything was going well, until I had to meet with the principal again. I get told that apparently the school board doesn’t agree with Karofsky’s expulsion, just because no one can prove that he threatened me since there were no witnesses. He’s coming back tomorrow and it’ll be back to the same routine.

There’s nothing I can do about it.

Or so I think; Dad and Carole offer me a way out, and while I’m not proud of it, I accept it. They transfer me to Dalton Academy, effective immediately.





It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, telling New Directions that I was transferring to Dalton Academy. It was even harder telling Ryan, because I felt so bad doing that to him. Once I left, he would be alone to deal with everything. Now, I don't flatter myself and say that I'm his only friend (he has Spencer, and he's actually pretty nice), but I'm his only gay friend. I can't imagine how bad it would be to have to face everything without someone there who's been through it, too.

If I had a choice, I'd have taken him with me. But it wasn't my decision to make.

It's all I can think about when I walk through the ornate entrance to my new school for the second time, only this time I have the same navy blazer and standard-issue grey slacks as everyone else. I blend in with the crowd. None of the guys who pass me seem to have any inclination to injure me or shout random abuse, as was prone to happen back at McKinley. In fact, they smile at me, and not even in a pitying way. It's so... different. But in a good way.

I don't know whether or not I'm going to join the Warblers. I feel like it would be a betrayal somehow. But, since Blaine and Brendon are the only people I know here, perhaps that social circle would be a good place to start.