Keeping Courageous & Carrying On - Part 14
Title: Keeping Courageous & Carrying On - Part 14
Rating (overall): NC-17
Pairings: Pre Blaine/Kurt. Blaine centric.
Spoilers: Aired episodes.
Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Alcoholism, PTSD.
Word Count: 4,104
Notes: Inspired by this angst meme prompt. I'm back! This is really rusty, I'm sorry, but the next part is much better. If you've been waiting for this, well, this is for you. I hope you don't actually hate it. <3
Summary: Blaine’s father is abusive but he refuses to be brought down by it all. He knows that one day he’s going to make something of his life. He can cope as long as he believes in himself.
Previous:
|| Part 01 || Part 02 || Part 03 || Part 04 || Part 05 || Part 06 || Part 07 || Part 08 || Part 09 ||
|| Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 ||
o~o~o
We're completely alone now, Kurt and I, and we're sitting somewhat awkwardly in his living room. There's a cold, thunderous air of silence looming over us, which is more than a little foreboding, and I'm feeling absolutely suffocated by the quietness that surrounds us, by the tension that slips nervously between us and by the overpowering fear of the end that I now have dwelling deep inside my chest. There's a cruel, familiar voice in my head too, but it's not my father's voice, it's mine, and it just keeps screaming and screaming at me, the same bitter words repeated mockingly, over and over again. It's saying: You ruin everything, Blaine, this is the end of you and Kurt. You did this to yourself.
I'm still shaking, my hands are still trembling, but they've been like this since it happened, since Burt helped me off the floor with his careful, calloused hands and moved me onto the sofa.He sat me down when we got in here and he told me that it was okay, that it's not my fault, but I don't know how this can't be my fault. I don't know how long ago that was but I know it's been a long time. Too long. But the fact that I have a tremor, that wont stop, the fact that I have no sense of time, or place, those things are the least of my problems right now, and the last of my concerns. I'm more overwhelmed by the fact that I feel like I could just curl up into the plush cushions that surround me and cry and cry and cry until I drown because I've really messed up here. I've really, really messed up.And my head, it still isn't right, and the only thing I can feel for certain is guilt and the sun is starting to lose it's shine and I don't think I can just sit here until the darkness smothers me because darkness is still making me so nervy. And I just can't do this. I can't.
I look at the door then. I need Burt, I need him to tell me that I'm okay, one more time. I'm not brave or strong or any of those other words that I used to pretend I was and I need Kurt's dad, I need him so damn much that I could cry. I need him to hold me, to tell me that it's okay, because Kurt can't do that for me right now; I can't see the forest for the trees. I'm too confused and I'm too lost and I feel like a monster. I look at Kurt then, his eyes are focused aimlessly on a spot on the carpet. He's being so shy, Kurt's never been like this around me, so self-conscious and careful and it's just another sign that we're broken. Whatever we had, that trust, it's gone. And that's all I can see.
The air is hanging so heavily across the room and Kurt hasn't even said a single word to me since we've been in here alone, by ourselves, without Burt, and I don't know what I can do to make any of this any better. This feeling between us, this sinking feeling, is so painfully unfamiliar to me, in relation to Kurt, and I just don't know what to do, what I can do, if I can do anything because maybe I can't fix this. Our relationship, our friendship, is about trust and love and a calm, unspoken understanding and that isn't here, not now. Now there is nothing between us but my guilt and his fear.
It's overwhelmingly obvious that Kurt is nervous about being alone with me and I can't blame him for that, not after I shouted at him like I did in his kitchen. I saw how scared he was, I saw how ready to run away from me he was, I saw the conflict in his eyes, I saw him make the choice to stay anyway and I worry about that decision more than I worry about anything. I worry because if we had been alone, if I had freaked out in his room, if I had started shouting at him, scaring him, if I had been about to do something awful he'd have just stood there and taken it. That completely terrifies me because, in that moment, he chose me over his own safety and that's just not right. It's not. And if he thinks that okay, if he thinks that's right, i don't know what else I can do other than leave because I need him to be safe, I want him to be brave, and Kurt's so far from being okay right now.
He's not okay with being in here, like this, with me, shut away and abandoned by his dad. He's pressed tightly into the back of an armchair on the other side of the room, which I know isn't a coincidence, and I'm sitting awkwardly on his sofa with my hands pressed tightly around the caps of my knees. My wrists are starting to ache from the angle of it all and I want to wrap my hands around myself and hide but I can't because every time I so much as breathe audibly Kurt shifts uncomfortably and it's breaking my heart. He's scared of me, he's truly scared of me, of my unpredictability, of my outburst, of my flashback, because that's what Burt had called it, and I have never regretting anything more in my entire life. I have never wanted to go back and change something as badly as I want to change this because Kurt, the only person I unwaveringly care about on this planet, can't even look at me right now. The courage that I worked so hard on helping him find is gone. Just like that. And I did that to him. Me.
I've dragged Kurt down with me.
I know then. I know that I need to get out of here, I can't just sit here, silently, hoping that this will be okay because it can't be okay and I can't stand making Kurt feel like this, especially not in his own home, because I know exactly what that feels like. Maybe it's not quite the same, maybe the situation is a little different but Kurt's still jumpy, he' still guarded, he's still afraid and that's because of me and I cannot do that to him. I cannot become my father. I don't want him to skirt around me, to fear saying the wrong thing, to filter himself. I just want him to be who he is, I want him to be unafraid, I want him to be Kurt Hummel. I don't want his help, not at the cost of himself.
And I know, I know, that this decision could destroy me because I don't have anywhere else to live and now all I can think about is how badly my father is going to react when I come home after a week of vanishing. I wonder how much it's going to hurt, if there'll be blood, if he'll finally just kill me and take away my misery. The misery I'm dirtying other people with.
I take a deep breath.
This could be the end of everything.
I'm doing this for Kurt, I remind myself then, he deserves to live without fear.
"I'm so sorry, Kurt." I say eventually, forcing the words out of my mouth, and my voice is already shaking. You're so pathetic, Blaine. I watch as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably and my heart starts to pound as guilt rushes through me. Look what you've done to him.
I watch him patiently then, as he wordlessly draws his lower lip between his teeth and nods his head softly. He's accepting my apology, after everything, but he still can't look at me and that hurts. It just hurts so damn much.
This is it, it's over.
"I just--" I begin slowly, distantly, trying to remember exactly what I need to tell him, I need to tell him that I'm sorry, that I wish today had never happened, I take a deep breath, "I just-- I want you to know that if I could go back there... I'd do it, Kurt. I'd go back to my house, in a second, if it meant I'd never have scared you, do you understand? I'd never.. I'd never have phoned Puck. I'd never have come here. I'd never have come home with you if I'd have known that we'd end up here, if I'd known you'd be afraid of me."
"W-what?" Kurt breathes out shakily then and his voice is too similar to mine.
When our eyes finally meet I feel like my heart has stopped beating altogether. When those eyes look into mine I see nothing but pain and I can't stop the sob that bursts out of my throat. This is too much, staring into those red, hurt eyes. I want to pull my eyes away. Look at him.
"I'd go back for you." I whisper again, and I squeeze my eyes tightly together, because it's true. It really is. For him I'd do anything. I'd do what it takes. You owe him his life back.
"No." He says unsteadily then, in a quiet desperation, and the room is suddenly sweltering, "Please, Blaine, don't say that." I stare at him for a while then, I just look, I try to remember him, the shape of his eyes, the line of his jaw, the way his lips part. After this, I may never get to see him again and I just want to remember. I want to remember what I loved, what made him so damn perfect, what makes him so good, what makes him too good for me.
"I just wanted you to know that, okay?" I say eventually and he just shakes his head. His face collapsing instantaneously as he places one of his beautiful hands over his mouth. I smile softly at the sight of his hands, I've always liked them, they've always been there for me, never afraid to reach out, until now. Saying goodbye hurts.
"Please--" he starts, bitter tears swimming in his eyes now, "Please, don't say you'd go back to that house, Blaine. He-- your father, he hurt you. He abused you. W-why would you even say--" My eyes follow a tear as it spills out of his eye and runs down his face. That's all it takes and then tears are absolutely pouring out of his eyes. Please, don't cry for me, I think, I still can't cry and you shouldn't be crying alone.
"It--it wasn't always so bad, Kurt." I offer gently, trying to comfort him but it has the opposite effect on him and his eyes fly open.
"Blaine." he whispers harshly then, disgust laced in his voice, he looks absolutely horrified, "Don't defend him!"
"I-- I'm not. I don't mean to. It just didn't always hurt as much." I try and he's shaking his head again, his brow furrowed tightly. His determination is back and I'm almost relieved, I almost want to stand up and scream Thank you! because I haven't broken him forever. He's not like me, he's much stronger, I should have remembered that.
"I don't understand why a father would do this to his own son." Kurt says quietly, tears still shining on his cheeks, he doesn't even try to wipe them away. It's okay to cry, I told him that once, when I was myself, I mean.
"I don't understand why he wouldn't." I reply honestly, because that's the truth of it, and he cringes a strangled noise escaping past his lips.
"Those things, the things you were saying, Blaine." Kurt starts before he falls into a whisper, "I wonder about my dad, I think, what if he hurt me? What if he threw me around and said those things and I--"
"Stop it." I say then, firmly, cutting him off, "I should never have said that, Kurt. Burt's not like my father. He's a good man. Please, never doubt that. He's tried so hard for me." I'll never forget that.
"I--I know... but what if he was like that?" Kurt asks quietly, his eyes glued to mine, his hands softly touching his neck, "W-what if he choked me, what if he left a trail of bruises on my body, I--"
"Kurt, just stop it!" I snap quickly and then I wince, I'm snapping at him again, "I'm.. I'm just too confused right now, Kurt, and I can't... I just can't imagine Burt like that. I-- I need him too much. I can't imagine him putting his hands on you like that. I can't, okay? I-- I can't let that image into my head because I'm lost Kurt, I'm so fucking lost and I need someone to show me what to do here. I don't.. I don't know who I am anymore and I need him. I need him so much. S-so ... please.. just let me trust him. I can't trust him, not if I think it's even possible that he'd hurt--"
"Blaine. I'm so sorry." Kurt says carefully then and I take another deep breath, "I can't stay here anymore, Kurt."
"W-what? Why?" he whispers.
"I scared you earlier, and--" he opens his mouth to disagree, "Don't try and say that I didn't because I did, Kurt. I know that I did. I saw that look on your face, I know that look."
"I-- I'm not scared of you, Blaine." he promises but to prove my point I raise my hand quickly and he flinches. That's all the proof I'll ever need.
"I'm not scared of you." He repeats firmly and I just shake my head.
"You are and I can't put you through that because.. I know how that feels, Kurt." I offer sincerely and he frowns.
"I'll prove it to you, please, just tell me how?" he begs and I shake my head.
"Kurt, I saw your face after my freak out." I remind him because I'm not letting him choose me over himself again.
"After your flashback, Blaine." he corrects softly and I nod. After my flashback.
"You looked absolutely terrified, Kurt." I offer dejectedly and he frowns, "So did you."
"I'm sorry." I say automatically and he closes his eyes before he takes a deep breath and stands up.
Composing himself for a second before he walks over to me and stretches out a hand, I hesitate. I hesitate because this has obviously taken him a lot of courage and his hand is exactly what I need right now and he knows that, I'm sure he does, because Kurt has always known what I need from him. I'm just scared that I need too much from him. I'm not in control of myself, I don't want to hurt him.
"I can't, Kurt." I whisper then, even though it breaks my heart, and he just nods, never dropping his hand.
He waves it in front of me and I look up at him then. He doesn't look scared anymore, there's something else there now, lingering in his eyes, and I don't know what it is but it isn't fear.
"I'm not afraid of you, Blaine. I'm afraid of your father, just like you are, but I'm not scared of you." he says quietly and I nod before I make a choice I really hope I don't regret.
I wrap my hand around his and I pray I don't hurt him. I pray I never hurt him again.
He squeezes my hand tightly and my eyes fill automatically.
I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
"Kurt, I thought... I thought he was really here." I confess uncertainly, weakly, and he just nods.
"Me too." he shares and then he sits down next to me. His hand still in mine, our thighs softly touching, his head resting lightly on my shoulder and I'm totally overwhelmed as I cling to his shirt, breathing in his comforting scent, his breath ghosting gently over my neck, "When I said I'd be here for you, Blaine, I meant it. I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you."
o~o~o
I wake up sobbing, my cheeks are damp and sore and I can barely breathe. My chest is rising and falling far too fast for me to cope with, and my neck is absolutely stinging. It's burning from the pressure my father has just been forcing onto it with hard, steadfast fingers. My head is throbbing too and I'm terrified, I'm searching the darkness for him but he's not here. He's not here. This isn't my house, this isn't my house, I'm okay. It's okay. Breathe.
I look down at Kurt then, sleeping so softly next to me and that sends a new surge of emotion coursing through me. My eyes start to fill and I tug a hand through my hair to stop myself from crying. I feel so alone in this darkness, I feel so alone when I wake up petrified, with all of this fear eating away at me, and I don't know how to stop it. I wonder how long it's going to take for my body to close itself down tonight because I wont be able to sleep now, I just have to wait until I'm so tired that my body shuts itself down. I just have to wait until I'm so tired that I loose control of my consciousness.
I gulp down the hot air that surrounds me and I know that if I close my eyes, just for a second, I'll hear him, I can hear now, stalking around outside Kurt's bedroom door. I can hear his heavy feet, the breaking bottles, I can hear it all. My brain remembers everything so damn perfectly and it uses it all against me. I'm feeling scared and my brain is mocking me, it mocks me every time it betrays me like this. Every single time it lets him exist around me, in my darkness, it betrays me. I betray myself. I wish I could wake Kurt up. I wish I could shake him awake and beg him to help me but I can't because this is my problem. This will always be my problem. I need to get used to that.
I stare at the darkened ceiling then, my head cradled softly in the pillows that lie under it and I just wait, I wait and I hope that I'll fall asleep soon; that he wont be there this time. All I want is an hour's worth of sleep, just an hour. I'd even take half an hour, just something. Anything.
Kurt shifts next to me then and I bite my lip, I try to stop the tears from spilling over my eyelids.
"Blaine." he whispers softly in his sleep and his hand searches under the covers for mine. He finds it eventually but he doesn't feel the tears on my fingertips and he settles back down.
"Kurt." I whisper into the darkness and he squeezes my hand, his heavy breathing comforting me.
Tempting me back to sleep.
o~o~o
The next time I wake up I jump straight out of bed, I fling the covers off my body and I run across the room because he's chasing me. He's coming for me. He's coming here again. Oh, God. I look up at Kurt's door, I look at all of the stairs in my way. I can't do it, it's impossible. I can't build my barricade and if I don't do that he's going to hurt me. He's going to make me--
I--
I can smell him.
Oh, God. He's already here.
Why wont he just leave me alone?
I run back across the room then, knocking things over as I go but I cant stop, I know Kurt hates the mess but I can't stop to pick things up because he's coming down here and he's going to hurt me. He's going to hurt me.
I run into Kurt's bathroom then, I slam the door shut, I turn the light on and I crouch down on the floor.
Stay away, please, just stay away.
I'm about to slide Kurt's laundry basket across the floor and pull it in front of the door when the door bursts open.
I jump violently and press myself into the floor; my heart is thundering in my chest.
"No." I gasp.
"Blaine?"
"K-kurt?" I whisper and he nods.
"What's happening?" He asks quickly, seriously, like he understands the urgency I feel in my chest.
"He's coming down here." I whisper before I realise how stupid that must seem to him.
He just nods.
"Okay. What should we do?" He asks then and I understand exactly what he's saying between the lines. He's saying he's not going anywhere. But it's too dangerous, I'm too dangerous.
"You can't stay in here, Kurt." I say quickly and he frowns.
"I am staying, Blaine. So, please, just tell me what we're doing here." he says firmly and I don't have time to argue with him.
"Close the door." I say quickly and he does, flicking the lock across before he comes he sit next to me, sleep still controlling his limbs, his shoulder bumps into mine.
"Do you feel safe now?" He asks softly and I shake my head.
"What do we need to do?" he asks seriously and I don't even have the ability to describe how much that means to me.
"Build a barricade." I mutter sheepishly and he nods. Instantly sliding his laundry basket across the floor, lining it up perfectly with the door. He spins around then and I watch as he searches through his cupboards, grabs anything remotely box shaped and piles it onto the laundry basket.
"You sort that out." he says, "I'll find more things, okay?"
I nod and start lining the boxes up and by the time I'm done, and he's given my everything he possibly can, the room seems so much lighter.
"Is that ... good enough?" He asks carefully but I understand exactly what he means, he's asking me if it's enough to keep a flashback away, he's asking me if he's going to be trapped in his bathroom while me father beats me.
"I-- I think so." I say, listening for footsteps but I can hear them. I look at Kurt then.
Kurt's just helped me keep my father away.
He's just kept me safe and that is utterly mind blowing.
This feels like such a milestone.
"T-thank you. I.. I know it's crazy." I say and he shakes his head, quickly.
"No, it's not crazy, Blaine, and I don't mind helping, okay? Come here." he says and I move closer to him then, I let him wrap an arm across my shoulders.
"Can you sleep?" He asks and I shake my head, "No."
"Try." he says, "I'm right here, Blaine, I'm not going anywhere... and we have that too." He whispers as he points to our barricade.
I know that, realistically, a laundry basket, a box of tissues and a make-up bag can't save me but I feel like they can, in this moment they can, and that's what matters.
"Do you want me to sing to you?" He asks gently and I nod.
"Only if you want to, though. It is two in the morning, Kurt." I reason and he just smiles knowingly at me.
"You know me, Blaine, every moment is an opportunity for song."
I smile at that.
He uses his free hand to settle my head on his chest then, "Just close your eyes, for me, okay?"
I nod and push my face into his chest.
I listen to him sing then, as I sit with his safe, warm arms wrapped tightly around me. Kurt's voice is full of tenderness, full of sadness, full of love but we're both still staring at the door. We're both still wondering if he's really gone. If he ever will be. And I don't know the answer to that. I just don't. So, I force myself to focus on Kurt's voice. I let him keep me safe behind our barricade.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.
Here they talked of revolution.
Here it was they lit the flame.
Here they sang about `tomorrow'
And tomorrow never came.
From the table in the corner,
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now!
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion.
On the lonely barricade, at dawn.
o~o~o
Part 15.
Rating (overall): NC-17
Pairings: Pre Blaine/Kurt. Blaine centric.
Spoilers: Aired episodes.
Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Alcoholism, PTSD.
Word Count: 4,104
Notes: Inspired by this angst meme prompt. I'm back! This is really rusty, I'm sorry, but the next part is much better. If you've been waiting for this, well, this is for you. I hope you don't actually hate it. <3
Summary: Blaine’s father is abusive but he refuses to be brought down by it all. He knows that one day he’s going to make something of his life. He can cope as long as he believes in himself.
Previous:
|| Part 01 || Part 02 || Part 03 || Part 04 || Part 05 || Part 06 || Part 07 || Part 08 || Part 09 ||
|| Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 ||
o~o~o
We're completely alone now, Kurt and I, and we're sitting somewhat awkwardly in his living room. There's a cold, thunderous air of silence looming over us, which is more than a little foreboding, and I'm feeling absolutely suffocated by the quietness that surrounds us, by the tension that slips nervously between us and by the overpowering fear of the end that I now have dwelling deep inside my chest. There's a cruel, familiar voice in my head too, but it's not my father's voice, it's mine, and it just keeps screaming and screaming at me, the same bitter words repeated mockingly, over and over again. It's saying: You ruin everything, Blaine, this is the end of you and Kurt. You did this to yourself.
I'm still shaking, my hands are still trembling, but they've been like this since it happened, since Burt helped me off the floor with his careful, calloused hands and moved me onto the sofa.He sat me down when we got in here and he told me that it was okay, that it's not my fault, but I don't know how this can't be my fault. I don't know how long ago that was but I know it's been a long time. Too long. But the fact that I have a tremor, that wont stop, the fact that I have no sense of time, or place, those things are the least of my problems right now, and the last of my concerns. I'm more overwhelmed by the fact that I feel like I could just curl up into the plush cushions that surround me and cry and cry and cry until I drown because I've really messed up here. I've really, really messed up.And my head, it still isn't right, and the only thing I can feel for certain is guilt and the sun is starting to lose it's shine and I don't think I can just sit here until the darkness smothers me because darkness is still making me so nervy. And I just can't do this. I can't.
I look at the door then. I need Burt, I need him to tell me that I'm okay, one more time. I'm not brave or strong or any of those other words that I used to pretend I was and I need Kurt's dad, I need him so damn much that I could cry. I need him to hold me, to tell me that it's okay, because Kurt can't do that for me right now; I can't see the forest for the trees. I'm too confused and I'm too lost and I feel like a monster. I look at Kurt then, his eyes are focused aimlessly on a spot on the carpet. He's being so shy, Kurt's never been like this around me, so self-conscious and careful and it's just another sign that we're broken. Whatever we had, that trust, it's gone. And that's all I can see.
The air is hanging so heavily across the room and Kurt hasn't even said a single word to me since we've been in here alone, by ourselves, without Burt, and I don't know what I can do to make any of this any better. This feeling between us, this sinking feeling, is so painfully unfamiliar to me, in relation to Kurt, and I just don't know what to do, what I can do, if I can do anything because maybe I can't fix this. Our relationship, our friendship, is about trust and love and a calm, unspoken understanding and that isn't here, not now. Now there is nothing between us but my guilt and his fear.
It's overwhelmingly obvious that Kurt is nervous about being alone with me and I can't blame him for that, not after I shouted at him like I did in his kitchen. I saw how scared he was, I saw how ready to run away from me he was, I saw the conflict in his eyes, I saw him make the choice to stay anyway and I worry about that decision more than I worry about anything. I worry because if we had been alone, if I had freaked out in his room, if I had started shouting at him, scaring him, if I had been about to do something awful he'd have just stood there and taken it. That completely terrifies me because, in that moment, he chose me over his own safety and that's just not right. It's not. And if he thinks that okay, if he thinks that's right, i don't know what else I can do other than leave because I need him to be safe, I want him to be brave, and Kurt's so far from being okay right now.
He's not okay with being in here, like this, with me, shut away and abandoned by his dad. He's pressed tightly into the back of an armchair on the other side of the room, which I know isn't a coincidence, and I'm sitting awkwardly on his sofa with my hands pressed tightly around the caps of my knees. My wrists are starting to ache from the angle of it all and I want to wrap my hands around myself and hide but I can't because every time I so much as breathe audibly Kurt shifts uncomfortably and it's breaking my heart. He's scared of me, he's truly scared of me, of my unpredictability, of my outburst, of my flashback, because that's what Burt had called it, and I have never regretting anything more in my entire life. I have never wanted to go back and change something as badly as I want to change this because Kurt, the only person I unwaveringly care about on this planet, can't even look at me right now. The courage that I worked so hard on helping him find is gone. Just like that. And I did that to him. Me.
I've dragged Kurt down with me.
I know then. I know that I need to get out of here, I can't just sit here, silently, hoping that this will be okay because it can't be okay and I can't stand making Kurt feel like this, especially not in his own home, because I know exactly what that feels like. Maybe it's not quite the same, maybe the situation is a little different but Kurt's still jumpy, he' still guarded, he's still afraid and that's because of me and I cannot do that to him. I cannot become my father. I don't want him to skirt around me, to fear saying the wrong thing, to filter himself. I just want him to be who he is, I want him to be unafraid, I want him to be Kurt Hummel. I don't want his help, not at the cost of himself.
And I know, I know, that this decision could destroy me because I don't have anywhere else to live and now all I can think about is how badly my father is going to react when I come home after a week of vanishing. I wonder how much it's going to hurt, if there'll be blood, if he'll finally just kill me and take away my misery. The misery I'm dirtying other people with.
I take a deep breath.
This could be the end of everything.
I'm doing this for Kurt, I remind myself then, he deserves to live without fear.
"I'm so sorry, Kurt." I say eventually, forcing the words out of my mouth, and my voice is already shaking. You're so pathetic, Blaine. I watch as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably and my heart starts to pound as guilt rushes through me. Look what you've done to him.
I watch him patiently then, as he wordlessly draws his lower lip between his teeth and nods his head softly. He's accepting my apology, after everything, but he still can't look at me and that hurts. It just hurts so damn much.
This is it, it's over.
"I just--" I begin slowly, distantly, trying to remember exactly what I need to tell him, I need to tell him that I'm sorry, that I wish today had never happened, I take a deep breath, "I just-- I want you to know that if I could go back there... I'd do it, Kurt. I'd go back to my house, in a second, if it meant I'd never have scared you, do you understand? I'd never.. I'd never have phoned Puck. I'd never have come here. I'd never have come home with you if I'd have known that we'd end up here, if I'd known you'd be afraid of me."
"W-what?" Kurt breathes out shakily then and his voice is too similar to mine.
When our eyes finally meet I feel like my heart has stopped beating altogether. When those eyes look into mine I see nothing but pain and I can't stop the sob that bursts out of my throat. This is too much, staring into those red, hurt eyes. I want to pull my eyes away. Look at him.
"I'd go back for you." I whisper again, and I squeeze my eyes tightly together, because it's true. It really is. For him I'd do anything. I'd do what it takes. You owe him his life back.
"No." He says unsteadily then, in a quiet desperation, and the room is suddenly sweltering, "Please, Blaine, don't say that." I stare at him for a while then, I just look, I try to remember him, the shape of his eyes, the line of his jaw, the way his lips part. After this, I may never get to see him again and I just want to remember. I want to remember what I loved, what made him so damn perfect, what makes him so good, what makes him too good for me.
"I just wanted you to know that, okay?" I say eventually and he just shakes his head. His face collapsing instantaneously as he places one of his beautiful hands over his mouth. I smile softly at the sight of his hands, I've always liked them, they've always been there for me, never afraid to reach out, until now. Saying goodbye hurts.
"Please--" he starts, bitter tears swimming in his eyes now, "Please, don't say you'd go back to that house, Blaine. He-- your father, he hurt you. He abused you. W-why would you even say--" My eyes follow a tear as it spills out of his eye and runs down his face. That's all it takes and then tears are absolutely pouring out of his eyes. Please, don't cry for me, I think, I still can't cry and you shouldn't be crying alone.
"It--it wasn't always so bad, Kurt." I offer gently, trying to comfort him but it has the opposite effect on him and his eyes fly open.
"Blaine." he whispers harshly then, disgust laced in his voice, he looks absolutely horrified, "Don't defend him!"
"I-- I'm not. I don't mean to. It just didn't always hurt as much." I try and he's shaking his head again, his brow furrowed tightly. His determination is back and I'm almost relieved, I almost want to stand up and scream Thank you! because I haven't broken him forever. He's not like me, he's much stronger, I should have remembered that.
"I don't understand why a father would do this to his own son." Kurt says quietly, tears still shining on his cheeks, he doesn't even try to wipe them away. It's okay to cry, I told him that once, when I was myself, I mean.
"I don't understand why he wouldn't." I reply honestly, because that's the truth of it, and he cringes a strangled noise escaping past his lips.
"Those things, the things you were saying, Blaine." Kurt starts before he falls into a whisper, "I wonder about my dad, I think, what if he hurt me? What if he threw me around and said those things and I--"
"Stop it." I say then, firmly, cutting him off, "I should never have said that, Kurt. Burt's not like my father. He's a good man. Please, never doubt that. He's tried so hard for me." I'll never forget that.
"I--I know... but what if he was like that?" Kurt asks quietly, his eyes glued to mine, his hands softly touching his neck, "W-what if he choked me, what if he left a trail of bruises on my body, I--"
"Kurt, just stop it!" I snap quickly and then I wince, I'm snapping at him again, "I'm.. I'm just too confused right now, Kurt, and I can't... I just can't imagine Burt like that. I-- I need him too much. I can't imagine him putting his hands on you like that. I can't, okay? I-- I can't let that image into my head because I'm lost Kurt, I'm so fucking lost and I need someone to show me what to do here. I don't.. I don't know who I am anymore and I need him. I need him so much. S-so ... please.. just let me trust him. I can't trust him, not if I think it's even possible that he'd hurt--"
"Blaine. I'm so sorry." Kurt says carefully then and I take another deep breath, "I can't stay here anymore, Kurt."
"W-what? Why?" he whispers.
"I scared you earlier, and--" he opens his mouth to disagree, "Don't try and say that I didn't because I did, Kurt. I know that I did. I saw that look on your face, I know that look."
"I-- I'm not scared of you, Blaine." he promises but to prove my point I raise my hand quickly and he flinches. That's all the proof I'll ever need.
"I'm not scared of you." He repeats firmly and I just shake my head.
"You are and I can't put you through that because.. I know how that feels, Kurt." I offer sincerely and he frowns.
"I'll prove it to you, please, just tell me how?" he begs and I shake my head.
"Kurt, I saw your face after my freak out." I remind him because I'm not letting him choose me over himself again.
"After your flashback, Blaine." he corrects softly and I nod. After my flashback.
"You looked absolutely terrified, Kurt." I offer dejectedly and he frowns, "So did you."
"I'm sorry." I say automatically and he closes his eyes before he takes a deep breath and stands up.
Composing himself for a second before he walks over to me and stretches out a hand, I hesitate. I hesitate because this has obviously taken him a lot of courage and his hand is exactly what I need right now and he knows that, I'm sure he does, because Kurt has always known what I need from him. I'm just scared that I need too much from him. I'm not in control of myself, I don't want to hurt him.
"I can't, Kurt." I whisper then, even though it breaks my heart, and he just nods, never dropping his hand.
He waves it in front of me and I look up at him then. He doesn't look scared anymore, there's something else there now, lingering in his eyes, and I don't know what it is but it isn't fear.
"I'm not afraid of you, Blaine. I'm afraid of your father, just like you are, but I'm not scared of you." he says quietly and I nod before I make a choice I really hope I don't regret.
I wrap my hand around his and I pray I don't hurt him. I pray I never hurt him again.
He squeezes my hand tightly and my eyes fill automatically.
I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
"Kurt, I thought... I thought he was really here." I confess uncertainly, weakly, and he just nods.
"Me too." he shares and then he sits down next to me. His hand still in mine, our thighs softly touching, his head resting lightly on my shoulder and I'm totally overwhelmed as I cling to his shirt, breathing in his comforting scent, his breath ghosting gently over my neck, "When I said I'd be here for you, Blaine, I meant it. I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you."
o~o~o
I wake up sobbing, my cheeks are damp and sore and I can barely breathe. My chest is rising and falling far too fast for me to cope with, and my neck is absolutely stinging. It's burning from the pressure my father has just been forcing onto it with hard, steadfast fingers. My head is throbbing too and I'm terrified, I'm searching the darkness for him but he's not here. He's not here. This isn't my house, this isn't my house, I'm okay. It's okay. Breathe.
I look down at Kurt then, sleeping so softly next to me and that sends a new surge of emotion coursing through me. My eyes start to fill and I tug a hand through my hair to stop myself from crying. I feel so alone in this darkness, I feel so alone when I wake up petrified, with all of this fear eating away at me, and I don't know how to stop it. I wonder how long it's going to take for my body to close itself down tonight because I wont be able to sleep now, I just have to wait until I'm so tired that my body shuts itself down. I just have to wait until I'm so tired that I loose control of my consciousness.
I gulp down the hot air that surrounds me and I know that if I close my eyes, just for a second, I'll hear him, I can hear now, stalking around outside Kurt's bedroom door. I can hear his heavy feet, the breaking bottles, I can hear it all. My brain remembers everything so damn perfectly and it uses it all against me. I'm feeling scared and my brain is mocking me, it mocks me every time it betrays me like this. Every single time it lets him exist around me, in my darkness, it betrays me. I betray myself. I wish I could wake Kurt up. I wish I could shake him awake and beg him to help me but I can't because this is my problem. This will always be my problem. I need to get used to that.
I stare at the darkened ceiling then, my head cradled softly in the pillows that lie under it and I just wait, I wait and I hope that I'll fall asleep soon; that he wont be there this time. All I want is an hour's worth of sleep, just an hour. I'd even take half an hour, just something. Anything.
Kurt shifts next to me then and I bite my lip, I try to stop the tears from spilling over my eyelids.
"Blaine." he whispers softly in his sleep and his hand searches under the covers for mine. He finds it eventually but he doesn't feel the tears on my fingertips and he settles back down.
"Kurt." I whisper into the darkness and he squeezes my hand, his heavy breathing comforting me.
Tempting me back to sleep.
o~o~o
The next time I wake up I jump straight out of bed, I fling the covers off my body and I run across the room because he's chasing me. He's coming for me. He's coming here again. Oh, God. I look up at Kurt's door, I look at all of the stairs in my way. I can't do it, it's impossible. I can't build my barricade and if I don't do that he's going to hurt me. He's going to make me--
I--
I can smell him.
Oh, God. He's already here.
Why wont he just leave me alone?
I run back across the room then, knocking things over as I go but I cant stop, I know Kurt hates the mess but I can't stop to pick things up because he's coming down here and he's going to hurt me. He's going to hurt me.
I run into Kurt's bathroom then, I slam the door shut, I turn the light on and I crouch down on the floor.
Stay away, please, just stay away.
I'm about to slide Kurt's laundry basket across the floor and pull it in front of the door when the door bursts open.
I jump violently and press myself into the floor; my heart is thundering in my chest.
"No." I gasp.
"Blaine?"
"K-kurt?" I whisper and he nods.
"What's happening?" He asks quickly, seriously, like he understands the urgency I feel in my chest.
"He's coming down here." I whisper before I realise how stupid that must seem to him.
He just nods.
"Okay. What should we do?" He asks then and I understand exactly what he's saying between the lines. He's saying he's not going anywhere. But it's too dangerous, I'm too dangerous.
"You can't stay in here, Kurt." I say quickly and he frowns.
"I am staying, Blaine. So, please, just tell me what we're doing here." he says firmly and I don't have time to argue with him.
"Close the door." I say quickly and he does, flicking the lock across before he comes he sit next to me, sleep still controlling his limbs, his shoulder bumps into mine.
"Do you feel safe now?" He asks softly and I shake my head.
"What do we need to do?" he asks seriously and I don't even have the ability to describe how much that means to me.
"Build a barricade." I mutter sheepishly and he nods. Instantly sliding his laundry basket across the floor, lining it up perfectly with the door. He spins around then and I watch as he searches through his cupboards, grabs anything remotely box shaped and piles it onto the laundry basket.
"You sort that out." he says, "I'll find more things, okay?"
I nod and start lining the boxes up and by the time I'm done, and he's given my everything he possibly can, the room seems so much lighter.
"Is that ... good enough?" He asks carefully but I understand exactly what he means, he's asking me if it's enough to keep a flashback away, he's asking me if he's going to be trapped in his bathroom while me father beats me.
"I-- I think so." I say, listening for footsteps but I can hear them. I look at Kurt then.
Kurt's just helped me keep my father away.
He's just kept me safe and that is utterly mind blowing.
This feels like such a milestone.
"T-thank you. I.. I know it's crazy." I say and he shakes his head, quickly.
"No, it's not crazy, Blaine, and I don't mind helping, okay? Come here." he says and I move closer to him then, I let him wrap an arm across my shoulders.
"Can you sleep?" He asks and I shake my head, "No."
"Try." he says, "I'm right here, Blaine, I'm not going anywhere... and we have that too." He whispers as he points to our barricade.
I know that, realistically, a laundry basket, a box of tissues and a make-up bag can't save me but I feel like they can, in this moment they can, and that's what matters.
"Do you want me to sing to you?" He asks gently and I nod.
"Only if you want to, though. It is two in the morning, Kurt." I reason and he just smiles knowingly at me.
"You know me, Blaine, every moment is an opportunity for song."
I smile at that.
He uses his free hand to settle my head on his chest then, "Just close your eyes, for me, okay?"
I nod and push my face into his chest.
I listen to him sing then, as I sit with his safe, warm arms wrapped tightly around me. Kurt's voice is full of tenderness, full of sadness, full of love but we're both still staring at the door. We're both still wondering if he's really gone. If he ever will be. And I don't know the answer to that. I just don't. So, I force myself to focus on Kurt's voice. I let him keep me safe behind our barricade.
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.
Here they talked of revolution.
Here it was they lit the flame.
Here they sang about `tomorrow'
And tomorrow never came.
From the table in the corner,
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now!
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion.
On the lonely barricade, at dawn.
o~o~o
Part 15.