Pride, Privilege, and Predators
Title: Pride, Privilege, and Predators
Warnings: NonCon, Language, Violence
Fill for Glee Angst Meme
Chapter Six
Burt watches his only son struggle. Everyday, he sits in a hospital
room and tries to comfort his broken boyfriend. Blaine cannot see out of
his bad eye; his good one tears up all of the time. He cries when the
doctors touch him and he squirms with the nurses. Nightmares capture his
mind at night. The hospital becomes a trap. He sees his attacker in his
dreams---he screams his name in quiet, rasping breaths.
The wheezing bugs him the most. He visits them after work. The work
never stops. A file full of telephone numbers waits for him in the car.
He spends little time in the hospital room he hates more than the one he
slept in for weeks. When he leaves Blaine’s room, he’ll call those
numbers and beg for campaign donations. The sponsors are wealthy and
willing to help him campaign for union rights.
He shuffles into the room with two bags of spaghetti and sub
sandwiches. The noise startles Blaine. He gasps and wakes up, arms
flailing over his head. Lifting his head up from Blaine’s lap, Kurt
winces when he gets slapped in the face. He reaches for Blaine’s hand
and brings it down to his stomach. Their fingers entwine: their hands
fall onto the blankets.
Blaine murmurs something under his breath. Kurt calms him with a soft, kind reassurance.
“You’re here with me,” Kurt says, “and my dad just brought us a feast.”
Turning his head towards Burt, Blaine blinks at him with one eye. He
sets down the fast food from down the street and he approaches the bed.
Blaine startles and cringes away from him. Burt glances at the trembling
boy and takes evasive action. Pushing away the sliding table tray, he
looks down and smiles.
“Hey Blaine,” he says, “I brought you some real steak.”
Blaine peers at him in silence from the bed. Oxygen tubes hang from his
nose. He wheezes. The wet cough makes him uncomfortable. He coughed
like that in his own hospital bed last year. Kurt untangles his
hand--Blaine drops his hand into his lap and wheezes.
“Broken ribs,” Kurt says as he leaves the armchair and walks over to the
sliding tray table, “anything we feed him needs to be in small
portions--they did put an ungodly amount of stitches in his stomach.”
“Smells good,” Blaine mutters, “it smells homemade.”
“It’s authentic,” Burt replies, “maybe you should stick to the soup selection.”
He watches Kurt feed him. Blaine eats with shaky hands and slow
coordination. Kurt keeps him calm. Blaine cries during the entire meal.
Kurt cries with him. Dark circles surround his son’s blue eyes. Their
soft cries crawl under his skin.
He hates this hospital room---for what it did to his son. Kurt looks just
as battered and broken as Blaine. He wants to send him home for some sleep (on something beside a cot). Kurt will not go.
He knows the answer without asking. Kurt will never leave the hospital room as long as Blaine keeps begging him to stay (so he can chase away nightmares). His son needs to rest and he needs to leave the hospital room for a little while.
“Kurt, I was thinking,” Burt says as he sets out take out dishes, “you need to
rest--and Blaine wants some company. I can stay here with him while you
go home and shower--and eat something beside cafeteria food.”
His son frowns, turning his lips into a pensive red line. Blaine keeps his
silence, but he sees the desperation in his good eye as he reaches for
Kurt’s shirt.
“Go,” Blaine says, “I’ll be sleeping in an hour---you can come back in the morning. You’re tired.”
The wheezing words make his heart clench. Kurt shakes his head.
“I’ll sleep here,” he replies, “I’m awake---I couldn’t sleep right now if I wanted to.”
Looking into his son’s eyes, he sees determination and fear. He feels
guilty for bringing up the subject. Kurt refuses the food he offers him.
He made a mistake somehow, when all he intended was to offer support.
The silence stifles the flare of anger in his belly. He loves his son,
but he has this stubborn streak that drives him crazy. The war of wills
never stops.
He loves and hates this aspect of their relationship, because he always
loses. Kurt gets under his skin. The cutting wounds burn him every time
his son becomes a callous teenager. Today proves his inadequacy as a
parent. He cannot talk his son into leaving the hospital room. Kurt
spends too much time here, just like he did last year after his father
had a heart attack. They finish their meal in silence.
Blaine falls asleep after he finishes his soup. Kurt lies on his blue
cot, but he does not sleep. He listens to the oxygen tank and takes his
leave with a simple goodbye. Turning towards the door, he pauses when he
sees Cooper Anderson standing under the pale hallway lights. The actor
looks at the bed and he lets the sleeping tigers lie. They look peaceful
for a moment. He wonders how long it will last.
“It’s personal,” Cooper says, “my brother never asks me to stay and he barely touches the food, but he sent our dad away yesterday.”
nbsp; Anger burns in his brown eyes.
“Did my son have anything to do with it?” He asks, afraid of the answer.
“No,”
he replies, “they want to stay together. My brother and my dad--they
never see things the same way. Blaine refused his company and now our
dad is sitting down in the lounge, waiting for an apology I doubt will
happen anytime soon.”
He remembers his son mentioning the unhappy dynamics between the
various family members of the Anderson Family during one of their Friday
night dinners. Blaine spent a lot of time at his house. Once he
explained the house rules to him, he let the kid sleepover on school
nights even because he knew his family lived scattered lives. Finn
complained about his constant presence. He presumed his stepson bitched
because Rachel did not have the same privilege, a rule that belonged to
his mother rather than him. They applied separate parenting techniques
and accepted it without a fight. Carole did fight with his son.
Kurt had a tendency to skirt her rules and Burt let it slide; his kid had enough to deal with during his nineteen years on earth. Finn needs structure. They live in two very different worlds as teenagers. Kurt matured young. Finn was maturing. Their house remained overall happy; they merely experience growing pains. What happened to Blaine raises endless questions in him. Kurt remains by his side.
They all have to live with this now. He has the sinking feeling that
Blaine will be spending more time at his house. Carole will be furious
if he lets his son’s boyfriend move in with them. She thinks his son
needs more structure in his life. He thinks his son needs more love.
That wheeze will fill his living room; he can already smell the hair
gel. Cooper nods as he takes a sip of coffee.
“He needs a quiet place to recover,” he admits, “I’ll pay for all of his care.”
He has little choice in the matter. Nodding in agreement, he puts his
son first, ignoring the voice in his head that says he should heed
Carole’s temper and tell Cooper Anderson to take a hike, that this kid
is not his problem. Kurt needs Blaine. He sees it in the looks they give each other. They will
last through high school if they survive it. They will sleep in his
house for as long as they need to.
Carole would do the same thing for Rachel if she had been raped and
thrown against a car, he knows she would ultimately accept his decision
to house Blaine Anderson until further notice. He can hear the awful
wheeze inside the hospital room. At least he’s out of the Intensive Care
Unit. He stares as Cooper write him an enormous check and he slips it
into his pocket. Blaine would live well under his brother’s caring
effort to ensure his comfort as he grew stronger. Cooper gives him
instructions. He signs a legal document. Blaine becomes his newest
problem. Kurt never has to ask; he receives love from his father.
Cooper folds his arms across his chest as he continues his instructions.
“My brother has issues,” he says, “he was attacked in the ninth grade. This--this is so personal--this thing with Sebastian. He doesn’t need a jury deciding damages. What he needs is a quiet place. I’ve agreed to arbitration.”
The news surprises him. He expected a lawsuit, given the attack, but
this seems like an excuse. Cooper passed him responsibility and now he
has to deal with emotional issues.
He has no idea what the elder Anderson meant by that statement. Blaine
deserves justice, because he survived a second attack. Kurt deserves
peace. He can see the relief on Cooper’s handsome face and he hates this
sudden imbalance of power.
“Sebastian wants a plea deal. The press hasn’t released my brother’s
name to the public since he’s a minor. People are speculating. I don’t
like it.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he replies, “The news showed the victim’s face. Finn knows.
He always wears his heart on his sleeve, but it goes to say that all of
his peers know by now.”
Sighing in contempt, Cooper turns the coffee cup between his hands.
“It’s not hard to put them together,” he says, “Sebastian’s lawyer won’t
wait. I’d prefer to settle this as quietly as possible, for all our
sakes.”
Cooper worries about his career. He worries about his son’s friends,
classmates, and teachers. A personal attack made public. He knows it’s a
pack of worms.
Warnings: NonCon, Language, Violence
Fill for Glee Angst Meme
Chapter Six
Burt watches his only son struggle. Everyday, he sits in a hospital
room and tries to comfort his broken boyfriend. Blaine cannot see out of
his bad eye; his good one tears up all of the time. He cries when the
doctors touch him and he squirms with the nurses. Nightmares capture his
mind at night. The hospital becomes a trap. He sees his attacker in his
dreams---he screams his name in quiet, rasping breaths.
The wheezing bugs him the most. He visits them after work. The work
never stops. A file full of telephone numbers waits for him in the car.
He spends little time in the hospital room he hates more than the one he
slept in for weeks. When he leaves Blaine’s room, he’ll call those
numbers and beg for campaign donations. The sponsors are wealthy and
willing to help him campaign for union rights.
He shuffles into the room with two bags of spaghetti and sub
sandwiches. The noise startles Blaine. He gasps and wakes up, arms
flailing over his head. Lifting his head up from Blaine’s lap, Kurt
winces when he gets slapped in the face. He reaches for Blaine’s hand
and brings it down to his stomach. Their fingers entwine: their hands
fall onto the blankets.
Blaine murmurs something under his breath. Kurt calms him with a soft, kind reassurance.
“You’re here with me,” Kurt says, “and my dad just brought us a feast.”
Turning his head towards Burt, Blaine blinks at him with one eye. He
sets down the fast food from down the street and he approaches the bed.
Blaine startles and cringes away from him. Burt glances at the trembling
boy and takes evasive action. Pushing away the sliding table tray, he
looks down and smiles.
“Hey Blaine,” he says, “I brought you some real steak.”
Blaine peers at him in silence from the bed. Oxygen tubes hang from his
nose. He wheezes. The wet cough makes him uncomfortable. He coughed
like that in his own hospital bed last year. Kurt untangles his
hand--Blaine drops his hand into his lap and wheezes.
“Broken ribs,” Kurt says as he leaves the armchair and walks over to the
sliding tray table, “anything we feed him needs to be in small
portions--they did put an ungodly amount of stitches in his stomach.”
“Smells good,” Blaine mutters, “it smells homemade.”
“It’s authentic,” Burt replies, “maybe you should stick to the soup selection.”
He watches Kurt feed him. Blaine eats with shaky hands and slow
coordination. Kurt keeps him calm. Blaine cries during the entire meal.
Kurt cries with him. Dark circles surround his son’s blue eyes. Their
soft cries crawl under his skin.
He hates this hospital room---for what it did to his son. Kurt looks just
as battered and broken as Blaine. He wants to send him home for some sleep (on something beside a cot). Kurt will not go.
He knows the answer without asking. Kurt will never leave the hospital room as long as Blaine keeps begging him to stay (so he can chase away nightmares). His son needs to rest and he needs to leave the hospital room for a little while.
“Kurt, I was thinking,” Burt says as he sets out take out dishes, “you need to
rest--and Blaine wants some company. I can stay here with him while you
go home and shower--and eat something beside cafeteria food.”
His son frowns, turning his lips into a pensive red line. Blaine keeps his
silence, but he sees the desperation in his good eye as he reaches for
Kurt’s shirt.
“Go,” Blaine says, “I’ll be sleeping in an hour---you can come back in the morning. You’re tired.”
The wheezing words make his heart clench. Kurt shakes his head.
“I’ll sleep here,” he replies, “I’m awake---I couldn’t sleep right now if I wanted to.”
Looking into his son’s eyes, he sees determination and fear. He feels
guilty for bringing up the subject. Kurt refuses the food he offers him.
He made a mistake somehow, when all he intended was to offer support.
The silence stifles the flare of anger in his belly. He loves his son,
but he has this stubborn streak that drives him crazy. The war of wills
never stops.
He loves and hates this aspect of their relationship, because he always
loses. Kurt gets under his skin. The cutting wounds burn him every time
his son becomes a callous teenager. Today proves his inadequacy as a
parent. He cannot talk his son into leaving the hospital room. Kurt
spends too much time here, just like he did last year after his father
had a heart attack. They finish their meal in silence.
Blaine falls asleep after he finishes his soup. Kurt lies on his blue
cot, but he does not sleep. He listens to the oxygen tank and takes his
leave with a simple goodbye. Turning towards the door, he pauses when he
sees Cooper Anderson standing under the pale hallway lights. The actor
looks at the bed and he lets the sleeping tigers lie. They look peaceful
for a moment. He wonders how long it will last.
“It’s personal,” Cooper says, “my brother never asks me to stay and he barely touches the food, but he sent our dad away yesterday.”
nbsp; Anger burns in his brown eyes.
“Did my son have anything to do with it?” He asks, afraid of the answer.
“No,”
he replies, “they want to stay together. My brother and my dad--they
never see things the same way. Blaine refused his company and now our
dad is sitting down in the lounge, waiting for an apology I doubt will
happen anytime soon.”
He remembers his son mentioning the unhappy dynamics between the
various family members of the Anderson Family during one of their Friday
night dinners. Blaine spent a lot of time at his house. Once he
explained the house rules to him, he let the kid sleepover on school
nights even because he knew his family lived scattered lives. Finn
complained about his constant presence. He presumed his stepson bitched
because Rachel did not have the same privilege, a rule that belonged to
his mother rather than him. They applied separate parenting techniques
and accepted it without a fight. Carole did fight with his son.
Kurt had a tendency to skirt her rules and Burt let it slide; his kid had enough to deal with during his nineteen years on earth. Finn needs structure. They live in two very different worlds as teenagers. Kurt matured young. Finn was maturing. Their house remained overall happy; they merely experience growing pains. What happened to Blaine raises endless questions in him. Kurt remains by his side.
They all have to live with this now. He has the sinking feeling that
Blaine will be spending more time at his house. Carole will be furious
if he lets his son’s boyfriend move in with them. She thinks his son
needs more structure in his life. He thinks his son needs more love.
That wheeze will fill his living room; he can already smell the hair
gel. Cooper nods as he takes a sip of coffee.
“He needs a quiet place to recover,” he admits, “I’ll pay for all of his care.”
He has little choice in the matter. Nodding in agreement, he puts his
son first, ignoring the voice in his head that says he should heed
Carole’s temper and tell Cooper Anderson to take a hike, that this kid
is not his problem. Kurt needs Blaine. He sees it in the looks they give each other. They will
last through high school if they survive it. They will sleep in his
house for as long as they need to.
Carole would do the same thing for Rachel if she had been raped and
thrown against a car, he knows she would ultimately accept his decision
to house Blaine Anderson until further notice. He can hear the awful
wheeze inside the hospital room. At least he’s out of the Intensive Care
Unit. He stares as Cooper write him an enormous check and he slips it
into his pocket. Blaine would live well under his brother’s caring
effort to ensure his comfort as he grew stronger. Cooper gives him
instructions. He signs a legal document. Blaine becomes his newest
problem. Kurt never has to ask; he receives love from his father.
Cooper folds his arms across his chest as he continues his instructions.
“My brother has issues,” he says, “he was attacked in the ninth grade. This--this is so personal--this thing with Sebastian. He doesn’t need a jury deciding damages. What he needs is a quiet place. I’ve agreed to arbitration.”
The news surprises him. He expected a lawsuit, given the attack, but
this seems like an excuse. Cooper passed him responsibility and now he
has to deal with emotional issues.
He has no idea what the elder Anderson meant by that statement. Blaine
deserves justice, because he survived a second attack. Kurt deserves
peace. He can see the relief on Cooper’s handsome face and he hates this
sudden imbalance of power.
“Sebastian wants a plea deal. The press hasn’t released my brother’s
name to the public since he’s a minor. People are speculating. I don’t
like it.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he replies, “The news showed the victim’s face. Finn knows.
He always wears his heart on his sleeve, but it goes to say that all of
his peers know by now.”
Sighing in contempt, Cooper turns the coffee cup between his hands.
“It’s not hard to put them together,” he says, “Sebastian’s lawyer won’t
wait. I’d prefer to settle this as quietly as possible, for all our
sakes.”
Cooper worries about his career. He worries about his son’s friends,
classmates, and teachers. A personal attack made public. He knows it’s a
pack of worms.