Stealth. (FtM Karl)

Ready

Recap: Karl answers the call and his dad is the one who called. His dad begs him to return home whilst also insulting him, saying that his transition is a way of getting attention and acting out because of his mother.
Karl snaps back and stands up for himself, only for his dad to hang up half way through.
*insert paragraphs about internalised toxic masculinity created by emotional abuse* (u get it)

Karl was interrupted by a knock at the door. He quickly dried his tears but stayed silent, hoping maybe the person at the door would leave.
"Karl?" It was George, "you in here?"

He didn't respond.
And George left just as he had hoped.
'Why is he looking for me?' I asked myself, assuming he was just worried, but of course my brain just wouldn't allow that to be the case and escalated it, 'what if there's a problem and he was going to ask for my help? Is bad even home? What if they broke something? What if they think I left and panic?'

Eventually, I was convinced that they needed me, and I worked up the courage to leave the room. It was silent.
This worried me.

I walked over to Dreams room again, I knocked on the door, "come in?" Someone chuckled.
I opened the door and poked my head in, "hey... where's George?" I asked, my voice still a bit off but hopefully not a noticeable amount.
"He's looking for you? We heard yelling and when you didn't come back after it had stopped, he wanted to check on you." Dream explained, sounding very sympathetic, "we didn't hear any of it, by the way, we couldn't make out any words from down the hall, don't worry." He informed, noticing my scared expression.

"Ah. Thanks."

"No problem, is everything alright?" He asked, Wilbur and Sapnap watching, also waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, everything is fine" I lied. That many people looking at me made me feel like a burden. I don't know why they would be worried about me anyway, they hardly know me.

And after that I left, closing the door behind me.

I walked down the stairs to look for George, as I passed the front door I heard it click and open. For a split second, I was terrified that maybe, somehow, my father had found me. But I quickly discarded the idea, knowing that it wasn't possible.
I turned to see who it was, Bad entered with a couple bags of shopping.

"Oh, hey Karl" he greeted.
"Hi"
"You busy?"
I thought for a moment, surely George will find me at some point right? The house isn't that big.
"No. Why? Need some help?" I asked, gesturing to the bags.
"If you wouldn't mind" he asked sheepishly.

I nodded and took two of the 4 bags from him and helped carry them to the kitchen, "I was wondering where you had gone." I stated, trying to start a conversation.
"Yeah, sorry I didn't leave a note or anything, I realised that we didn't have much left, and since you've moved in I thought we might need some more stuff."
"Oh. Right, I can pay you back. Like... rent I guess? ...somehow..." I reminded, I didn't have job yet, I didn't have the confidence to apply for one nor did I believe I would be able to meet their standard of work.

"Oh! No don't worry about it. It's technically my parents money anyway." He confessed.
"But I still feel bad for-"
"Nono, we can talk about this another time okay? Try not to worry about it, you don't owe anyone anything, okay?" He interrupted.
I reluctantly agreed.
He smiled, "great. Now take this." He passed one of the bags, not one of the small, cheap, plastic ones, one of the larger re-usable, foldable ones.

"Wait... is this mine? Like... all of it?" I asked, hoping the answer was no.
"Yeah."
"Baaaddddd!" I whined, "Whyyyy???"
"I know I know, there's quite a bit in there, I may have gotten a little carried away when I shopped for you" he admitted, "but. It's all... it's MOSTLY essentials." He corrected, "no take backs. I threw away the receipt."

I rummaged through the bag slightly, "Bad, there are clothes in here. Why would you throw away the receipt?"

"Well obviously because I was 90% sure they would fit. Plus I bought them oversized, AND they look very comfy, I doubt you will want to return them." He answered.

I sighed in defeat, "Fine. Thank you, Bad. I really appreciate it." I smiled.

"And you, my friend, are very welcome." He beamed, "it's mostly just clothes and some toiletries like a toothbrush. Oh, I wasn't sure is you brought any and I am sure you didn't want to buy them yourself as Fundy has told me it isn't great for his dysphoria" he rambled, "but I bought you some other toiletries, I'm sorry I probably should've asked first, but they were there and I already had a bag of stuff for you and I didn't want to make you embarrassed by calling or something and-"

"No! Bad! It's fine really!" I denied, "that's actually really helpful, it didn't really cross my mind when I was packing and... well yeah, buying them does make me dysphoric... but just call next time, please? I will be alright buying them myself."

"Okay, that's fine. Sorry again, I'll remember that next time..." he took a mental note, "oh! There's 5 hoodies in a different bag, but I can't give them to you yet." He grinned.

"Huh why not?" I asked.

"You'll find out." He stated, proudly, 'what is he planning?'

"Karl?" I heard George's voice, "oh, there you are!" He noticed I was with Bad, "uhhh can I talk to you real quick?" He asked.

"Yeah sure" I took the bag and left, "sorry Bad, I'll help in a sec, thanks again for the stuff." I apologised.
"Nah it's fine, I didn't need help I just wanted to give you the bag, go." He insisted.

I followed George out the kitchen, "If this is about the call, I'm fine." I told him.
"Are you sure? I've never heard you yell before... well, except for that time we were on a call..." He frowned.

I chuckled slightly, "you worry too much about me."

I thought for a moment. George was clearly worried, and I didn't blame him. He'd witnessed the fight, the collapse, he heard me yell over the phone, and yet he hadn't at all been informed on the situation.
'Should I tell him?' I wondered, it wouldn't hurt to tell one more person, and I believe 'George deserved an explanation, he'd probably worry less? And I doubt he's transphobic, he's way too nice. And we're friends right? ... he'll understand, or at least try to I suppose.'

"Hey George, I'm ready to explain everything to you now. As long as you don't mind me stealing you from your friends for a while."