November 26, 2010
Santana was a bitch. She knew it and reveled in the fact. She actually got off on being so quick-tempered and sarcastic and nonchalant. It was her gift, and her power. Well, that and a rocking body and a sweet face and a kick-ass singing voice. Stick that in your pipe, Quinnie. I can sing better than you. And I'm hotter than Rachel. And I'm slimmer than Mercedes. And even though Brittany was after Artie now, well, at least they were still sorta cool. She knew all the boys lusted after her too. Well, all but Kurt.
Kurt. Ok, she hated, HATED to admit it. Because that was like being weak. But she missed him too. She'd never admit to how awful she felt that she hadn't done anything, couldn't really do anything to help Kurt or protect him from that psycho Karofsky. Ugh, to think he'd been on her list to get with this year! Kurt was so funny and sweet and yet fierce and talented as all hell. But that damn ogre wouldn't leave him alone. So now he's gone. And the only good thing that came out of it was that Santana got a solo for Sectionals, finally. But it's a hollow victory and she hates it.
It can only be wondered at why the fates throw people bones sometimes. Give them a chance to undo and fix. Of all people, Santana was the one who stumbled across the secret. And the one who moved to right the wrong. Who'd have thought it possible? Not even herself. She even shocked herself by her actions. And it had started, typically for her, in such a sully way…
She was looking for Puck. One guess why. They had football practice and the locker room would be empty for a few hours. So dangerous and dirty and perfect. They'd been together there dozens of times before. The whole team knew it went on and didn't care. She had just locked the heavy door and pulled out her phone to text Puck when she heard the sound. Water. A shower was on, and…was that someone crying? Gnawed by curiosity, she strolled slowly and quietly around the corner into the shower room.
She had to go fully in, since the sounds were coming from a concealed shower behind the privacy wall. Dave Karofsky, of all people, was sitting in his full football outfit, drenched under a shower, bawling his eyes out. Ten million things went off in Santana's head in rapid fire. Run, scream, bash his head in, comfort him…what? Comfort this lunatic? It was then that she made her decision. This was her chance. Everyone was terrified of this guy, especially after he ran Kurt out of the school.
But people were afraid of Santana too. She hadn't worked so hard to be top bitch for nothing. She had always been fearless. And it hit her that, as a girl, and a strong, fearless girl, she was the only one who could do something about this. And so, squaring her shoulders she stormed in and faced the large sobbing mess crumpling in the puddle on the floor.
"Well, well, this is pathetic." Dave looked up quickly, panicked, eyes wide. My God, he is nuts, Santana thought. He stumbled to his feet and whirled around looking furious, but Santana stuck her ground, glaring at him, hands on her hips. He flared his nostrils and made to move at her, but then his eyes fell on her Cheerios uniform. He stared for a full 30 seconds, and then sniffled loudly and slid down the wall to a sitting position again. Hanging his large head.
Santana may have been a bitch, and a slut, but she wasn't stupid. And something had just clicked in her head about Karofsky. And Kurt. She came to stand right as his feet and he slowly looked up at her. "What do you want bitch? Wanna make fun of me for crying, tell everyone what a pansy I am? Wanna flirt with me and pick on me? Wanna make me mad and get me in trouble all over again so they REALLY expel my sorry ass? Go for it, I don't fucking care anymore." "I don't get you, troll. Mr. Tough Guy, Mr. Big Bad Scary Guy who picks on the fairies. The bully to end all bullies. I don't get it."
"I don't car what you get and don't cheerleader! Get away from me!" He made to move but she shoved him back to the wall. Cheerios were strong too. "Look, Karofsky, I can scream and have the whole team here in five minutes, or you can tell me the truth. The truth that no one, except for one I'll bet, knows." His eyes met hers in terror. "You made him leave. You drove him away. You scared him so bad he couldn't eat or sleep. He never did ANYTHING to you. He avoided you if he could. But you wouldn't leave him alone. Why? Tell me." "I…I'm..I'm not telling you anything."
"Well, have it your way. But I'm the only one who can help you, when you come down to it. You're on everyone's radars now, bucko. Even people who didn't like Kurt before are on his side in this. But here's the deal…I want to know why you did this. And why the hell you're in here, crying, alone, instead of out celebrating with your cretin buddies for picking on a kid who couldn't defend himself. Who never hurt anyone…Who…"
"He HURT me" Karofsky wailed. "He was so much himself and so perfect and so comfortable and had a great family and great friends and he was so goddamned…he was so…" Dave was convulsing. Santana tapped her foot impatiently, but remained silent while he regained composure. "He was everything I…couldn't be. He was so…beautiful. I couldn't be around him without wanting to…without…" "Hurting him?" she fired back. "NO dammit, without wanting him, OK? I'm fucking GAY, Santana!"
"I know Dave" she said quietly. He looked at her in shock. "And see? I'm not laughing. I'm not running. I'm not telling anyone." He continued to stare and pant. "How could you know…" he stammered. "Oh please, you're the only guy on the team I haven't at least made out with. How far a jump is that? Seriously." She almost smirked, but his hurt eyes struck her. She kneeled down in front of him. "I want you to listen to me jockboy. No one hates you as much as you hate yourself. And for good reason. You picked on Kurt, obviously not only because you liked him a lot, which is what stupid boys in love do…" "I'm not in love…" he tried to say. "Shut up, yes you are. Look at you. Anyway, and you picked on him because you were jealous."
"He was so…strong. And he was mooning over Hudson…and then that damn prep boy who came with him to talk to me because Kurt was so scared…Kurt was…" He was losing it again. "He and Finn are brothers now, and I know for a fact that Finn's not gay. I don't know about any prep boy, but then again, Kurt did transfer to…" She stopped. "Where?" Karofsky demanded. "Santana, please tell me where. I have to find him. I have to apologize, I have to…I want to…I…" "Slow down, closet case, you're gonna kill yourself with a panic attack." "I want to die. I deserve to die. I told him I'd kill him Santana and I would never, I just want to…No one will tell me where he went. They think I'm gonna hurt him. I promise, I swear, I just want to see him, try to talk to him." He was crying, yet again.
Later, she didn't know what craziness or brilliance overtook her, but Santana knew how she could finally help. "Kurt doesn't want to see you, David. He's terrified of you. For God's sake, he left the school and his friends and his beloved Glee club because of you! You can't just barge in and bum rush him. He'll have your ass in jail. Or his father will kill you." "Yeah, his Dad was pretty mad. Had every right to be…" "Listen, Karofsky, I don't know why I'm doing this, but well, you need help. And well, I'm here…and I want to help Kurt since no one would let me."
"Will you help me fix this?" He was begging again. "I don't have anyone to talk to. I miss him so much. I think I might love him…" That did it, she decided. "Ok, meatstick here's what I can do…" She hesitated just briefly. This could get deep, but she knew, for once, that it was right. "I'm not telling you where Kurt is. But I will give you my father's number. He's a doctor. A real one. And he can probably recommend a good shrink or two. If not, you need to talk to Miss Pillsbury, or Mr. Schuester, or someone who is in a position to listen and get you some help."
"My Dad won't go for this…he's so angry at me still…" "But think what it'll mean, you saying you want help, after he got you back in school. Hell, he fought to get you back in. He wants you to get help numbnuts. " "I do…need to talk…to someone. I'm so tired of being angry all the time. I'm tired of being afraid and lonely…I miss him so much…" "Waah, waah, we're not there yet. In the meantime, I can, through the incestuous Glee grapevine, get word to him that you're getting help and being normal and stuff…well a better version of your normal self…" "You'd do that? Why? After what I did…"
"I don't know why Karofsky. You don't deserve it, you should be beaten to a pulp, but then…none of us would be any better than you if that happened, would we?" He almost laughed at that. "You've gotta start being honest. And you've gotta get some help. Kurt is…amazing. Yes, I know that doesn't sound like me, but he is. And if you really care about him, you've got to show him, prove it to him. But more than that, to yourself." "He'll never forgive me…he said I wasn't his type, that I was…chubby and…sweaty…"
"Well, duh, you are!" She laughed and he finally did chuckle. "This isn't gonna happen overnight Dave, so accept that much. You've got time. Fix things if you want to. For yourself, for him. But listen up, he's probably with that Prep boy you mentioned right now. And I bet that guy won't have the hang-ups you have. So, you need to get moving if you want to…win him. God that sounded so much cheesier than I meant to." Before she could stop him, Karofsky was bear-hugging her. "You rock, Santana!" he yelled swinging her around. She smiled and laughed painfully, he was strong after all. "Put me down gridiron." Once planted again, she reached into her pocked and pulled out her wallet and then her father's business card. "Make the call, Karofsky. You might still have a chance, not that you deserve it." "I know, but I want it. Thank you, thank you, I don't know what to…" "Oh please, let go of me and clean yourself up. You think that chic little ladyboy is gonna go for you looking like that?" His stunned look melted when he saw her smiling. He ran out to grab his stuff and find his cellphone. He bolted towards the door.
"Hey Scary!" she called out. He stopped and looked back. "Don't tell anyone other than my Dad about me helping you, alright. I have my reputation to think of." Dave smiled his biggest smile yet. "Deal, if you won't tell anyone…" He looked petrified again. "I won't. That's your job." He actually laughed now and dashed out. Santana perched on the bench between some lockers. Not entirely sure what she'd gotten herself into, she still felt…good. Really good. Better than sex and singing good. So, as she texted Puck to come meet her, she set about thinking about how to put Operation Kurt in motion.