Wrong. Chapter 2
A/N: If at any point of this story you need a hug (I strongly suspect there may be a few chapters like this), and don't have anyone or anything to cuddle with right there with you, go to punkkitten2113 LJ - there are penguin stuffies left there by her for this particular reason :)
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2.
The phone rings right as the professor starts his lecture, earning Kurt an irritated glare. Apologizing, he fishes it out from his pocket, noticing Dad flashing on the display before switching it off. He told his father he’d call him about his Christmas flight plans this evening, why does he have to be so impatient? Sighing, Kurt turns his mind back to the droning voice of the old man talking about the history of theater; professor Donnaby is known for his impossibly detailed exam questions - neglecting taking notes in his class is not an option.
By the time Kurt remembers about his phone, it’s been over three hours. He’s sitting in a campus coffeehouse with a bunch of other freshmen - relaxing after his last classes for the day, drinking excellent mocha and talking animatedly with his roommate, Danny, and his girlfriend Emily. It’s amazing how much fun school can be when you’re accepted and liked for a change.
For the first time in his life Kurt is popular. His impeccable taste in fashion and all things aesthetic, undeniable musical talent and snarky wit are appreciated, not laughed at. Here at NYADA he found a group of friends - intelligent, talented people who like him for who he is, not in spite of it. They have most of their classes together and often meet for coffee afterwards. There’s always someone to go shopping or sightseeing with - with so much to see in New York, even after three months Kurt spends his every free hour roaming the city. He’s even had a boy from his class crush on him and he can’t deny it’s flattering, even if uncomfortable, because come on, he’s taken.
Kurt is pulling out his phone to show a picture of Blaine to Emily when he realizes he’s never called his dad back. Hell, he hasn’t even switched his phone back on yet. Not that it’s anything important, probably. All his father calls about recently is Christmas planning; Kurt suspects he just misses him. After all, they’ve never been apart for so long before.
Except… from the moment his phone lights up with a familiar picture of Blaine and him, it keeps beeping - 11 missed calls, all from his dad. The first tremors of anxiety shake Kurt’s suddenly icy-cold hands and when he opens the first of two texts his father sent him, his heart rate rises sharply.
Pick up, it’s urgent
The second one looks innocent, but scares him even more.
Call me. Now.
Kurt’s just about to press the call button when the phone lights up with an incoming call from his dad, and he picks up with trembling fingers. Around him, life goes on as if nothing happened - Danny and Emily are engaged in a friendly banter with Alexander, Kathy and Michelle are looking through a new issue of Vogue together, Victor’s watching him again, trying to be subtle with his infatuation. Everything looks completely normal. But Kurt knows it isn’t, that his world is about to change somehow, he just doesn’t know how much yet. Something happened. Something bad.
The second between accepting the call and pressing the phone to his ear stretches impossibly, and Kurt’s maneuvering his way out of the café, the bag on his shoulder, even as he asks breathlessly,
“Dad, what happened?”
The fact that his father doesn’t even ask what took him so long speaks volumes of the state of his mind and oh, it must be bad. Kurt braces himself for the worst; is it Carole? Finn? The voice in the speaker is serious.
“Kurt, I think you should try to get on the earliest plane back here.”
He’s almost in a full panic by now, breath coming fast and shallow, legs feeling like jelly as he runs toward his dorm.
“Dad, what is it?”
“Blaine’s in the hospital.” And Kurt gasps; he hasn’t even considered a blow from this direction. But it gets worse when his dad speaks on. “He tried to take his life.”
The earliest possible flight Kurt can get on isn’t until 5 am, so he spends some of the longest hours of his life, pacing the small dorm room back and forth, crying, panicking and raging in turns, while Danny is being a good friend trying to get him to calm down and think rationally. Of course, Kurt knows he can’t do anything more from here or speed up time, but nothing can turn down his mind, spinning with questions, memories and images.
Blaine. His beloved, beautiful Blaine, always smiling, singing, so full of energy. Blaine wanted to kill himself. No, not just wanted. Tried. And Kurt knew nothing. He had no idea.
He’s gathered all the information he could since the first conversation with his dad. As soon as he found the flight and bought the ticket with his “emergencies only” credit card, he called his father back and demanded to know everything. There wasn’t much. Apparently, Mr. Schuester started the rehearsal today with news that they were one man down for Sectionals. Blaine’s parents had called the school this morning to say that he was in the hospital after a suicide attempt. Of course, good old Schue considered it all right to reveal this to the students, so by tomorrow it would be a number one gossip. Kurt saw red just thinking about such indiscretion. How was Blaine supposed to go back there after something like this?
That is… if he comes back at all. If he’s even able to come back. The thought results in another bout of crying so heavy that Danny calls for reinforcements and soon Emily is there, hugging Kurt and not saying it would be all right, just letting him soak the shoulder of her sweater with tears. Because really, it may not be all right at all. He doesn’t even know what Blaine did; how bad it was; how fast he was found and in what condition. He just knows he’s alive. Or, he was, this morning.
When he called Tina earlier tonight, she was in tears. She tried to go see Blaine after school, driven by an overwhelming guilt that she hadn’t seen it coming when she was right there, in classes and Glee with him, but they said it was family only. They wouldn’t even tell her how he was, nothing. But she told Kurt one thing his father hadn’t. It didn’t just happen. Not this morning or last night. Blaine did whatever he did on Wednesday evening. Two days ago. Two. Whole. Days. This was the last straw that broke Kurt entirely.
He spent the next hour on the floor in a fetal position, bawling. This was how Danny found him when he came back to their room. After a long while of trying - unsuccessfully - to get Kurt to calm down even the slightest bit, he went to his medicine cabinet and came back with some kind of pills, smelling strongly of valerian root. After a while, Kurt felt marginally calmer, enough to explain what happened and pack his bag. Danny was sincerely shocked and sympathetic, and has been trying his very best to help in every possible way since then, but Kurt knows he doesn’t get it, not fully.
It’s not just the fact that the boy he loves tried to commit suicide and Kurt doesn’t even know if he’s fine right now, at least physically, or maybe dying. As crushing as these facts alone are, they are only the beginning of Kurt’s torment. Because on top of it, there’s guilt.
Kurt is blaming himself for what happened. For never realizing that anything was wrong with Blaine. For having less and less time for him, skipping their Skype dates to go out with friends or to see a show. For forgetting to text him goodnight a handful of times. For not trying harder to make enough money at the coffeeshop to be able to go home for Thanksgiving after all.
Thanksgiving. The word alone makes him feel like throwing up. The last time he spoke with Blaine, Kurt told him he wouldn’t come home then. Regretfully, but calmly, he informed his boyfriend that he’d have to wait another month to see him. And Blaine seemed all right with it, he was smiling and joking. They talked about Christmas, planned the time they’d get to spend together then. And Kurt should have known something was wrong, should have realized that such a reaction couldn’t be genuine, that Blaine was pretending to be fine just to make him feel good. Because he wasn’t fine. Because minutes or at most hours after this conversation, Blaine decided he didn’t want to live anymore. Decided to die.