Aug 17, 2011 20:22
A/N: Now we finally move to the comfort part. This chapter is sort of an in-between, not much
happens, my favorite part begins with the next one.
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CHAPTER 4
It was still early morning when they got home
from the hospital. Blaine’s parents haven’t called or answered their phone yet.
As they were driving, Burt considered their options and finally decided to put the
boy in Kurt’s bedroom - the bed was comfortable, the room quiet and the
familiarity of it would give Blaine at least a minimum of comfort. Besides,
Kurt was away until Wednesday anyway.
This kept bothering Burt actually. Maybe he
should contact his son, tell him about the attack? But… what was the point of
disturbing him if he wasn’t here anyway? He knew Kurt, knew how deep he felt things, how hard it would be for
him to hear what happened to his friend, the boy he was probably in love with
if Burt read the signs correctly. No, he decided, they would tell him after he
comes back, when it isn’t so fresh and raw anymore, and Blaine is better and at
home with his parents, just as he should be.
Carole greeted them by the door and if she was
shocked by Blaine’s state, she didn’t show it. She moved to hug the boy, but
noticed her husband’s frantic gestures behind him just in time to stop herself.
She just smiled at him instead. The kid seemed not to notice anyway. He could
barely keep his eyes open anymore and his legs refused to support him fully.
Burt led him upstairs, dug in the closet for some sweats Kurt never wore and a loose
T-shirt, and helped him change. It should be weird, but it wasn’t. It felt as
natural as the last time he had to help his own son change into fresh pajamas when
he had the flu last year. The only difference was that Blaine didn’t complain
feverishly about the color not matching his sheets. Burt put their guest to bed
then, closed the curtains and told him to try to sleep. He couldn’t help
worrying about how silent and apathetic the kid was since they left the
hospital, his eyes blank and absent, his moves automatic. He was shutting down,
rising walls, closing himself in. He shouldn’t be alone with strangers, dammit.
Where were his parents?
He felt drained as he went back downstairs,
right into his wife’s comforting embrace. He clung to her silently for a long
while, letting her warmth seep into his body, wash over him in waves of calm. Then
they sat together at the kitchen table, with cups of steaming coffee in hand, cold
sunlight of a winter morning streaming through the windows, and he told her
everything. Carole cried. Then they cried together, feeling helpless and angry and
terrified of the world where children could be hurt like this. And then they
finished their coffee and held hands and put their brave faces back on, because
that’s what parents do.
***
Blaine was drowning. Dread kept coursing
through his veins, panic bubbled in his mind, fed with memories that flashed
before his eyes with terrible clarity. Dizziness, stuffy room spinning around
him. Kisses, wet and forceful. Hands, groping, scratching, violating. Cold
touch of metal on wrists. Pain in his shoulder, his sides, everywhere. Moans
and whispers. Terror and shame and… No, he couldn’t think about it. He wanted
the memories to stop, his mind to just go blank, stop, stop, just make it stop, please.
He hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings
since that dreadful examination ended, barely registering being in a car, then
a house, going up some steps, someone helping him change into something warm
and soft (he flinched at first, but the hands and the voice were somehow
familiar, safe, and that was okay). Then he was lying, comfortable and warm in
semi-darkness, and doors were closing quietly, and there was a sense of
familiarity to this place, reaching him even through all the dread, a feeling
of safe, and he inhaled deeply and
the blankets smelled like safety, like peacefulness, like Kurt, and he understood where he was. Gathering the familiar smell
around him like a shield, he thought of his friend - his angelic face, his
clear eyes, his voice, soft and strong and beautiful. Finally his mind shut
down and he fell into the black, dreamless abyss of sleep.
***
The scream woke Burt up from a nap six hours
later. He’d had a difficult conversation with Blaine’s father earlier and when
he’d gone up to check on the boy after that, he’d found him asleep, looking
quite peaceful, and felt a twinge in his chest at how young and vulnerable he was.
He couldn’t shake a sudden, terrifying vision of Kurt lying there like that,
broken and hurt.
He trotted upstairs now to find Blaine still
asleep, but clearly in a grip of a nightmare. All peacefulness was gone. The
boy was tangled in the blanket, tossing his head violently, gasping for breath.
Sweat was rolling off his forehead and his face was contorted with pain, but it
was his voice that shot through Burt like lightening - broken and terrified, sobbing
Kurt’s name over and over again, pleading for help. That’s when he made the
only decision that made sense. Years later he would still recall it as one of
the best decisions of his life.
Sitting down on the bed, he woke Blaine gently,
talking to him soothingly, careful not to touch him, not to scare him further.
When the boy was finally awake and somewhat calmer, he looked at him imploringly.
“How do you feel?”
“Shaken. Weak. Weird. Everything seems unreal.”
Blaine’s voice was distant, monotone.
“Do you want to stay in bed for now? You haven’t
slept too long.”
“Would you mind if I did?”
“Of course not. I’ll go get you lunch, okay? I’ll
be back in a moment.”
Ten minutes and one phone call later Burt was
back with a bowl of soup and some fresh bread on a tray. He made sure Blaine
sat comfortably against the pillows and let him eat in silence before he spoke.
“Blaine, your father called after you fell
asleep,” he tried very hard not to let anger show in his voice at the memory of
this earlier conversation. “He told me they can’t change their plans and will come
back next Sunday morning. He asked me to take you home, said he’d tell his
secretary to bring you meals and groceries every day.”
Blaine shrugged. His eyes, clear a moment ago, were
getting clouded and distant again. Burt could practically see the walls coming
up.
“We won’t do that.”
That snapped Blaine from the stupor. He looked
at Burt, stunned.
“I will refrain from expressing opinions about
your parents. Sorry, I might have shouted at your father a bit.” He might have
been embarrassed if he wasn’t so angry. “What I know for certain is that you
shouldn’t be alone right now. You will stay here with us for the week.” Blaine
tried to protest, but Burt wouldn’t let him. “Now, both me and Carole have to
work and anyway, you need a friend, not just a guardian. That’s why I’m bringing
Kurt home early - so that he can be here for you.”
Blaine’s eyes grew wide, incredulous. His voice
trembled when he spoke.
“Thank you. For everything. I really don’t want
to be any trouble.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Burt answered
sincerely. He felt responsible for this boy now, as if he was his second
step-son. “I like to think someone would do the same for my boys if they needed
it.”
“But…” regret sounded clearly in Blaine’s voice,
“Kurt may not even want to see me. I was terrible to him these past couple of
days. I don’t think he will want to be my friend anymore.” His voice broke. “And
he was just trying to protect me. He was right all along.”
“What was he right about?”
“Eric.” The name was spat with disgust. “I
introduced them a couple of days ago, when we started dating. Kurt absolutely
hated him on first sight and didn’t even try to hide it, you know how he can be.
He insulted him repeatedly in this witty way of his, insinuating that he was creepy,
fake and predatory. I don’t think Eric understood half of it, but he got the gist
and demanded we ‘leave this jealous kid and go somewhere else’. And I agreed,
even though Kurt was my best friend in the whole world. Before I went, he begged
me to be careful, said there was something that worried him about this guy. I
just snorted. I haven’t talked to him since, ignored his calls and messages. If
I’d only listened… But no, I had to go and get myself into this mess. I should
have known all along…” He sounded bitter now.
“Hey, no! Don’t even think about blaming yourself for this. So you were naïve - yes, but
that’s what you are when you’re a teenager. Naïve and idealistic and trusting.
It doesn’t mean you did anything wrong - you met a really bad guy on your way,
it was his fault that he hurt you and
he needs to be arrested and punished for it. Yes, you could have used better judgment.
Yes, ideally you shouldn’t sneak out at night or drink alcohol. But everyone
does that once or twice when they are teens, it doesn’t mean they deserve to be
abused! It was not your fault, do you
understand?”
Blaine just shrugged weakly. Burt put his heavy
hand on his shoulder.
“And don’t doubt Kurt’s friendship, kid. He is
one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known. And he really cares about you.
I’ve just called him, he’s packing already. I’m going to get him right now.
We’ll be back before dinner.”
He smiled, seeing just a bit of light return to
Blaine’s eyes. Yes, that was the right thing to do.
angst,
hurt/comfort,
with you i can breathe,
nc-17