The plastic chair was hard, the room smelled like antiseptic, and some old episode of Pokemon was playing on Cartoon Network.

It had been only half an hour, and Dave was beginning to understand why emergency rooms were considered hell-holes by most sane human beings. Despite his hockey and football team memberships, Dave hadn't been to the hospital since his appendectomy in the seventh grade.

"You're tapping your feet again."

Dave jumped and looked up. Santana shot him an annoyed look before returning to her magazine.

"Sorry," he grunted. He peered over her head to where Kurt sat slumped in his seat, eyes trained on his iPhone screen. "…Kurt?"

The smaller boy looked up. "Yeah?"

"Do you, um, need anything?"

Kurt shook his head, returning to his phone, and Dave tried not to let his disappointment show. The entrance doors hissed open. Dave didn't pay much attention, but Kurt perked up immediately.

"Blaine!"

Dave did look up then, as a semi-familiar figure crossed the threshold and made a beeline for Kurt. The guy's handsome face was contorted with anxiety and his preppy suit was wrinkled. Dave felt a stab of jealousy as Prep Boy gently cupped Kurt's face in his hands.

"What happened?" he asked, thumb ghosting over a mark on Kurt's prominent cheekbone.

"I'm fine," Kurt murmured, taking his boyfriend's hand and squeezing it.

Dave stood abruptly. "Bathroom," he grunted, and took off down the hall.

The cracked mirror over the sink dutifully showed Dave a haggard face and shadow-rimmed eyes. He held on to the porcelain and squeezed, shutting his eyes and rocking gently back and forth.

It was times like these Dave really hated himself. Both parts of himself; his metaphorical "angel" and "devil" halves.

Karofsky hated the feelings he had for the smaller boy. Dave hated looking at Kurt and remembering everything he'd done wrong. It was like the physical marks from today were just a visible manifestation of all the emotional pain Dave had caused Kurt. It wasn't fair.

When Dave returned to the waiting room, he was surprised to see Santana sitting by herself, nose buried in a different celebrity gossip rag.

"The nurse just took Kurt back," she explained without looking up. "Blaine went with him."

"Good," Dave grunted.

Santana folded the magazine and smirked. "Be a little more obvious."

Dave frowned and looked away. "Can we go?"

"I told Kurt we'd wait for his dad to get here."

"…were you born this evil or do you take lessons?"

:

"Should I go ask for some ice? Do you need another pillow? Some water?" Blaine bounced on his feet and peered anxiously down at Kurt, who was lying back on a bed in the inner area of the ER.

Kurt shook his head dully. "Blaine, I'm okay. The nurse will be back any minute."

Blaine sighed and sat in a chair crammed between Kurt and the wall.

"I'm sorry. I'm just—I spent all this time trying to convince myself you'd be okay, and then…"

"Can we not talk about this anymore right now?" Kurt whispered.

"Oh, honey." Blaine leaned forward and pressed his forehead against his boyfriend's.

Hurried footsteps thwacked on the linoleum floor, interrupting the moment.

The nurse sounded annoyed. "Sir, you can't just run in here—"

"Kurt?"

Blaine straightened and pulled the curtain out of the way.

"In here, Mr. Hummel."

Burt took the last few steps to his son's side, wringing his hands. "What happened?"

Kurt shrugged wearily. "I got beat up."

Burt clenched his jaw. "And what does Dave Karofsky have to do with this?"

"He and Santana scared the other guys away. Didn't you see them in the waiting room?"

"When I didn't see you, I kinda—"

"He burst right through the door," the nurse finished. She was shaking her head but the soft smile on her face betrayed her amusement as she set a handful of items on a cart.

"Dad…" Kurt smiled despite himself.

"I was worried about you! I get a call from a guy you used to be terrified of, telling me I need to get to the hospital 'cuz some punks attacked you? What am I supposed to think?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "Should I go tell the others they can leave?"

Kurt's hand shot out and grasped Blaine's hand. "No!" He blushed. "I mean, please stay. Dad can go."

"Huh?"

"Yes. And please tell them—tell David—thank you." Kurt tilted his head meaningfully.

Burt scratched his head. "Is this supposed to be some kind of lesson? That I owe this guy because he helped instead of hurt you for once?"

"Please just do this for me?"

"…I'll be right back."

:

Dave and Santana both stood as Burt came back into the waiting room and headed their way.

"I think Kurt's gonna be okay."

Santana pulled at her ponytail and grinned. "Great. Excuse me a sec, I need to call Brittany." She moved a few feet away, leaving her boyfriend alone with the father of the boy he'd once tormented.

That bitch, Dave thought admiringly.

Burt stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and fixed Dave with a solemn stare.

"So, uh, Kurt told me what you did for him. He—uh—I wanted to say…thanks."

Dave shrugged uncomfortably. "I just did what any decent person would have done…"

Mr. Hummel regarded him for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I guess you did."

Santana interrupted with a half sigh.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel, but Dave needs to take me home now. Brittany's kind of flipping out."

Dave silently thanked the smaller girl, as Kurt's dad broke his intense stare to smile at Santana.

"Sure. Thank you, again."

"Do you want me to drive Kurt's car home?" she asked, juggling the keys in her hand.

One plaid-covered shoulder lifted and fell. "If you don't mind…"

"Course not. Come on, Dave. It's past your bedtime." And with a swish of her black ponytail, Santana sashayed toward the door.

Dave cast Kurt's dad one final, sheepish look, and was surprised to be met with a half smile.

"Bye," he said lamely, backing away.

Mr. Hummel nodded again—sheesh, the guy could be one of the Men in Black with that poker face—and Dave practically fled for the automatic doors.

As he followed his pseudo-girlfriend to the parking lot, Dave thought about the evening's events and wondered if this would change anything. Could he and Kurt be friends? Was being friends enough?