One.

It never failed to amuse Kurt when Krist was in one of his moods. Sprawled on the couch, his legs crossed in front of him and a cigarette lightly sitting between his fingers, Kurt grinned a little as Krist continued his dialect. Dave didn’t even know what was going on – he’d been outside talking to an old friend, coming back to find Kurt smirking and Krist ranting. He wasn’t even ranting to anyone in particular. It was just a general rambling of his annoyances. Dave joined Kurt and looked to him.

“Did you make him do this?” Kurt’s smile widened.

“No. No one has to make Krist do it. He’s pissed at his mom. He’s pissed at his guitar. His pissed that the shower was cold and he’s pissed that he’s run out of beer. He’s pissed that the van almost ran out of gas and he’s pissed that…”

Kurt became aware of Dave really staring at him. “You do care!” Dave mocked, looking shocked. “You know all of Krist’s problems. I’m impressed.”

Shaking his head, Kurt stood up and was about to leave, as Krist turned. “And don’t think I’m finished being angry with you!” he spat.

Kurt looked confused. He stood there for a few moments wondering what he’d done. Krist always had these vents. It was as common as Dave trying to belch the alphabet and Kurt smoking a whole pack of twenty in two hours. As far as he was aware, he hadn’t done anything. Dave sat forwards, seeing Kurt’s face change and his body tense. He wasn’t aware of Kurt doing anything, either, but watched as Krist suddenly turned very angry.

“Excuse me?” Kurt asked, facing Krist completely now, crossing his arms and looking up to Krist’s face. “You’re not done for being angry with me?”

Krist nodded. “I’m so fucking pissed at you, Kurt. Every fucking time you do this, every fucking time, you make me so fucking pissed!”

Still confused over the strange behaviour, Kurt lent back and let himself relax slightly, against the door-frame. “Are you high?” Kurt asked, genuinely, although his face looked anything but.

This only enraged Krist even more and suddenly, the giant of a man was hulling Kurt up by the neck of his t-shit, his feet barely on the ground. Kurt wrestled with Krist’s hands on him, stuttering and spluttering for him to let go. Dave got to his feet, going behind Krist and trying to pull him off, but the man was too strong for either of them in his current state.

“Fuck, man! What’s your problem?!” Kurt screamed a Krist slammed his head against the door – his anger was increasing and he threw Kurt down to the floor.

Dave was still trying to separate them, pull them apart and stop the brawl, but Krist was bigger than them both, in weight and height and could be exceptionally strong when he needed or wanted to be. Krist’ hands were wrangled around Kurt’s neck now, tightening as Kurt tried to protest and writhe around.

“Krist! Fucking hell! Let go! You’re going to fucking kill him! Krist!” Dave shouted, as Kurt’s face began to drain of colour.

And suddenly, as if something washed over him, Krist stopped. He was calm again, as though his moment of anger was never even there. He let go and Kurt drew in a deep, hard breath. Krist stood, glanced at Dave and left – no word of explanation or apology. He left and closed the door behind him.

Dave went to Kurt, sitting him against him – holding him up. “Are you okay?!” He asked, shocked and concerned. Kurt barely nodded and concentrated on getting his breath back. He calmed and looked to Dave and nodded again. “I need some water,” he said, softly. Dave nodded, eager to help his friend, and got some from the water-dispenser by the wall.

Taking small sips, Kurt’s face flushed and the colour returned. He looked much better. Still not leaving his side, Dave moved down in front of him and sat cross-legged. “Did you do anything to him?” He asked, once Kurt had finished drinking. Kurt placed the plastic cup down and shook his head.

“Seriously. I don’t fucking know. I don’t remember doing anything – I don’t recall doing anything and I haven’t done anything for a week now…” his voice trailed off.

Dave knew by that last comment, Kurt was referring to his drug-use. A perfectly reasonable response, considering the amount of things Kurt had done, under the influence, and not remembered afterwards. But Dave agreed – this fit from Krist had seemingly come from no-where.

***

The next day, Dave was dreading the rehearsal. It was meant to be a seven-hour session, in preparation for a few shows they had coming up. Between working on their new album and rehearsing, Kurt had been writing new songs and illustrating covers. They had a number of interviews lined up and some more promotional work set out for them, so things had been tense. Although it didn’t really justify what Krist had done, Dave considered that to be the reason of his behaviour.

Kurt wasn’t there when he arrived, but Krist had already set up the equipment and seemed his usual, happy, self. “Hey man,” Krist smiled, as Dave came in. Dave returned the welcome but with a wary tone. He went straight to his drum-kit and sat down, eyeing Krist and wondering where Kurt was.

“Are you okay?” Dave asked, softly.

Krist turned and nodded. “Sure, man – why?” he asked, sounding almost surprised.

“Are you and Kurt okay?” Dave continued, holding his drumsticks tightly together.

Krist nodded. “I assume so. I’ve not heard otherwise, so yeah – why? What’s with all the questions, Dave?” Krist turned to him and Dave didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

The door opened and Kurt walked in, his hair covering his eyes and his clothes far to big for his size. He shuffled in and eyed Dave before turning slightly to Krist.

“Fuck, man! Where’d you get those bruises on your neck?!” Krist asked, surprised, shocked even. “Did someone attack you? Are you okay?!” Krist went over to Kurt, trying to move Kurt’s hair away, trying to see if he was okay. Kurt backed away from him and blocked his attempts, batting Krist’s hands away. Krist continued, ignoring Kurt’s protests, trying to see the marks, moving Kurt's hair, trying to examine his friend. "Kurt, let me see! What happened?" Krist repeated.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Krist?!” Kurt suddenly shouted. “You fucking did this to me! I was up all night thinking I wouldn’t be able to rehearse because you fucking strangled me! Don’t fucking act like nothing happened. You fucking know what happened! You fucking pinned me to the fucking wall, slammed my fucking head against the door and threw me down like a fucking piece of shit! Then you did this!” He screamed, pointing to his neck. He continued: “And I swear, Krist, if it fucks up my vocals I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Dave didn’t speak – he knew better than to try and intervene when Kurt was angry. At least not at this stage. Kurt wasn’t ready for a fight, he was just being vocal. Silence fell over all of them and Krist looked at Kurt for a long time.

He gave a small sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kurt. But I don’t remember doing that to you.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes and almost smirked. “So you were fucking high?” He retorted, standing back.

Krist shook his head quickly, almost defensively. “No!” he said. “No, I wasn’t – I didn’t smoke anything yesterday, I didn’t do anything like -”

Dave interrupted. “How do you know, Krist? You don’t remember what you did to Kurt, but you’re telling us you can suddenly remember if you took shit or not?”

Krist looked defeated and shook his head, backing down and sat down on the stool. Dave stayed where he was, behind his drums, and Kurt stood forwards slightly.

“You wanna tell us what’s going on?” Kurt asked - his voice was annoyed and angry.

Krist was silent for a long time. He looked to the ground and didn’t say or do anything.

Suddenly he jumped as Kurt slammed his foot into the wall, which made a dent and he screamed: “Fucking answer me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Dave stood now, moving to Kurt and pulling him back slightly. It seemed to be Dave’s additional job in the band – he was the only one who could tell when Kurt was going to get violent.

He knew just the right time to pull him back out. “C’mon man, don’t – not like this. Let’s go outside and smoke. C’mon Kurt.”

With some protest, Kurt allowed Dave to pull him out of the room and they went outside, leaving Krist on his own.

Dave lit up and passed it to Kurt before lighting his own cigarette and he leaned back against the wall, inhaling the smoke and watching Kurt carefully.

“Obviously he’s on drugs – he has no memory of anything.” Dave commented, flicking the ash away.

“Why doesn’t he just admit it? It’s not like no-one knows about you taking heroin…” Dave mentioned.

Kurt’s eyes flashed at Dave for nothing more than seconds and drew in on his cigarette in a deep breath. He nodded but didn’t speak and Dave sensed there was little use in continuing the conversation. Kurt didn’t want to talk anymore.