Waiting for a Happy Ending - Part Five B
Title: Waiting for a Happy Ending
Author:
firefly_ca
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Stevie and the Evans family, the Andersons, and large swaths of Glee clubbers (New Directions and Warblers)
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing themes, scenes, etc.
Word Count: 104K - this section is around 20K
Spoilers: All of S2 and up to around 3x12
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson lived under another name for almost nine years with an abusive man he was forced to pretend was his father. He always thought his own family had given up on him, but now that he's found out the majority of his life was spent believing a lie, he has to try to reconcile the life he had with the life that was taken away from him. Sequel to Looking for a Happy Ending.
Note: Huge thanks to my betas LoonyLevicorpus and callmerayray for taking the fic and trying to help me avoid stupid typos and things that make no sense this time around. Any mistakes you find are all from last-minute edits I made before I posted. Because sometimes I can't leave good enough alone.
A/N: I've never watched an episode of second generation Skins in my life (I could never get past not seeing first generation anymore), but everything in this section about Naomi and Emily comes from the ever-helpful LoonyLevicorpus.
Christmas is very nearly the death of Blaine. The problem is that, while he is mentally prepared to deal with the emotion of his first Christmas back home, he isn't expecting to have to deal with all the Christmases he missed at the same time. In the days leading up to the 25th of December, he watches the living room fill up with more and more presents labelled for him with growing alarm.
"Why are there so many?" He asks. His mom rubs him on the shoulder happily.
"You were gone a long time," she says simply.
"You bought me presents every year?" Blaine is a little terrified when he starts to think of everything he'll be forced to sit down and open Christmas morning. All the eyes that will be watching him as he exhumes the childhood he never got, trying not to look as devastated as he's sure he'll feel.
"Blaine?" Mom is starting to look worried. "Are you okay? I know there's a lot, but it's not so bad. We scaled back a lot after that first year you were gone. The first year Dad and I went all out and bought you absolutely everything you had been asking for. We were convinced that we would find you by Christmas morning and wanted to show you how badly you'd been missed. But you didn't come home, and soon we were more worried about putting money into finding you than buying presents, so we limited it to one gift a year after that, from each of us - and from Cynthia too, when she came along. But your grandparents all gave you things each year, too, and some family friends. It adds up."
"There's so much," is all Blaine can manage to say as the sinking feeling inside of him gets worse and harder to ignore. Opening a ridiculous amount of new presents would be hard enough, but something about digging through piles of gifts in front of an audience, opening memories that aren't his, makes him want to ask Kurt if he can hide at his house for the holidays.
Mom tries to make it better when she realizes how badly it's bothering him, offering that they just keep the important presents for Christmas morning and open the smaller things now. Except everything is an important present. One is the gift his grandmother gave to him the first year he was gone, and another is the last present his best friend in elementary school bought for him before he moved to Columbus. Everything carries a value for his mother that makes everything too important to open before everyone is there to watch. Blaine starts to feel like there are bugs crawling around inside his chest whenever he walks past the tree. He tries not to let his anxiety show, but sometimes he can't help it.
When Lola arrives two days before Christmas with Blaine's other grandparents, she realizes what his problem is almost immediately, after just two minutes of listening to Mom's plans and honest-to-God printed-out schedule for Christmas morning.
"Really Diane," she says, in a tone that even Blaine has to admit is pretty condescending, despite the fact that she's taking his side. "If he says he doesn't want to open them, why should he? He's not a little boy. What's he going to do with a little boy's presents?"
Mom's response is a little less than gracious,
"You can't just come in here and start telling me what to do anymore, Mother. This isn't your house and he's not your son."
Lola almost looks contrite, but when Blaine apologises for getting her into trouble later on, she waves him off unconcernedly.
"Your mother has always been crazy around holidays," she says. "She likes to throw a party but panics when it doesn't go the way she pictures it. She'll get over it, she always does."
"You fight a lot?" Blaine asks, and Lola pats him on the cheek.
"Always," she says. "One day you'll get used to having her back and start fighting with her just as much as I do. It's how we show affection in this family."
"Mom says you always say that so you don't have to make yourself a better person," Cynthia says from where she has been glued to Lola's side ever since the woman walked into the house.
"Hmmm," says Lola, her eyes flashing just a little as she mulls the comment over. She seems calm enough, but Blaine considers driving out to Lima for the evening, just in case.
It's the concentrated efforts of Dad and all his grandparents combined that end up saving him from the Christmas from Hell. They team up to talk to Mom and convince her that in this scenario, giving back might be better than "ruining Blaine's first Christmas home with a selfish and immature attitude." That last bit had been Lola's contribution, and had almost ruined the entire mission until Dad got things back on track. As a result of his efforts, on Christmas Eve he and Blaine are able to load up the car with the countless boxes and drive them over to a local homeless shelter. Blaine even spots his dad sneaking in the odd present with birthday paper on it but wisely chooses not to mention it.
"Is Mom really angry?" Blaine asks before they leave. Lola makes a noise of derision.
"You mother is always angry at Christmas," she says. "I told you. Even before you left. It hardly counts anymore. These presents are yours and if you don't want them, that's up to you. I mostly bought you underwear anyhow. You can't use any of it. I'll open a nice bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet to go with dinner and pretend I brought it as a gift. She'll forgive us all. You'll see."
She's not wrong.
"Your grandmother is so cool," Kurt says that night as they talk over Skype, his eyes lighting up like someone's just told him Taylor Lautner came out of the closet especially to woo him.
"I know, I know," Blaine says, rolling his eyes a little. It's not that he doesn't agree, but since she's shown up for the holidays, Lola has quickly become the only thing his friends talk about. Everyone's a fan. Even David has called up to chat and wish him season's greetings only to not-so-subtly suggest that Lola "might want to try using Skype for the first time. She'd love it. Put her on."
It all starts not long after his grandparents arrive, when some crazy Bible-thumping evangelist with his own network comes under fire in the mainstream media for using pictures of Blaine and Kurt hugging at Sectionals for a segment on his show called "The Sickness of Sodom: Protecting Our Children." Blaine, in his newfound cynicism towards the media, doesn't see how mainstream news is treating him any better than the crazy pastor, but they evidently think otherwise, probably because the story coincides with a newly released report on teen suicide in the queer community, making everyone want to look as supportive and opposed to homophobia as possible. The day after the story breaks Rachel shows up on his doorstep with trays full of vegan cupcakes and a pinched expression on her face. Lola is in the kitchen with a matching expression, trying to impress upon his other grandparents lessons about equality they already know. The two of them bond instantly over furtive plans to rope the senior's lodge and the Lima chapter of PFLAG into a massive letter-writing campaign to promote education and awareness.
"Your dads can explain why the people with the Jesus theme parks are destroying America," Lola says happily, as Blaine tries to ignore the rapt expressions on Kurt's and Rachel's faces as they listen. "And the ladies in our quilting circle will write about how everyone knows the gay-hating Christians are only like that because they know no gay man would have them. They want anal sex and they are not getting it. Someone needs to tell them they're not fooling us before they embarrass themselves even more."
"I don't know if that's true," Rachel says, cautiously. Lola just smiles at her.
"Of course it's true, sweetie. You ask your daddies. No one thinks about gay sex that much unless they want it. Or want to watch. Sometimes what you really want is to watch."
"I thought you just did a miscellaneous craft night, I didn't know you were part of a quilting circle," Kurt comments, in an attempt to steer the conversation towards less mentally-scarring waters. Blaine wants to know why his boyfriend knows so much about his grandmother's social life.
"That's on Thursdays," Lola says dismissively. "On Tuesdays we quilt and talk about the new show Agnes's granddaughter lent to us. It's lovely. Young people make appalling life choices that I wish had been available to me."
She breaks off and laughs loudly, in a way that is at once both terrifying and hypnotic.
"There are two girls on it who are just precious. Such a nice-looking pair. It's a shame they can't get each other pregnant, because their children would be lovely. We're making a commemorative quilt for them with a moped and empty liquor bottles on it. Gay people are much better with British accents. Blaine, I think if you started using one, people would stop having issues with you. But I suppose that's not the point. You shouldn't have to be foreign to find acceptance."
The next day, Rachel comes back and brings her fathers with her. They don't leave for four hours.
From that point on, the Legend of Lola is something Blaine just has to resign himself to. Where ever Lola goes, crowds of admirers seem to follow. Neighbours pop over for unexpected visits at least twice a day. Warblers show up for impromptu performances on the front lawn. Mercedes invites herself over to have tea like it's an everyday occurrence. It's hilarious and exhausting, but in the end Blaine thinks that maybe anything that gets some of the attention off of him is the best present he could ever be given.
When it finally arrives, Christmas is a mostly relaxed affair, with his friends' focus mostly landing on Lola, and his family's focus going to Cynthia, who has so much sugar in her body by the time they're ready to open gifts she requires six pairs of eyes on her at all times to make sure she doesn't burn the house down. On the occasions when he starts to feel like people are staring at him a little too long, or talking about him when he's out of the room, he tries to offset the feeling by imagining what his Christmases will be like when it's just him and Kurt, and no one's treating him like he's been missing and they can't believe he's back. When it's just him and Kurt, everything will be new without any ugly history getting in the way. He doesn't even realize the implications of dreaming about a future with Kurt until well after the fact and when he does, he can't bring himself to worry about it much.
***
It would be nice if Christmas marked the end of Blaine's issues with being watched by people. His life would be so much easier if he just taught himself not to care, but as soon as the decorations have been put back into their boxes, the talk almost immediately shifts to his birthday. Combined with all the media attention suddenly being focused on him again, the effect is stifling. He didn't know he'd been born in February, hasn't even thought about his birthday since his return back home, and now people are asking him what he wants, and how it feels to be almost 17.
"I'm younger than I thought," he manages when Dad asks the question.
"What?" Dad smiles, cautiously, like he knows he won't like the answer but is pretending things are alright anyway. "Did you think we'd missed it? You had to have known that we wouldn't let your birthday go by uncelebrated, right?"
"I thought you had," Blaine says, helplessly. "I don't remember any of my birthdays. I didn't know it was in February."
"You forgot your own birthday?" Cynthia sounds horrified. "How did you know when to have parties?"
"I didn't," Blaine says. "We didn't do stuff like that. How am I not 17 yet?"
He feels panicked.
"I'm supposed to be a senior this year. February is past the age cut-off."
"They bumped you up a year in the first grade," Dad says, gently, trying not to let the worry show on his face. "You really don't remember? I can't believe you never asked."
"If you didn't have parties when did you have cake and presents?" Cynthia demands, her voice shaking a little.
"I never got cakes," Blaine says, and a corner of his mind wishes he was able to find the humour in each person in the room having his or her own individual crisis over this newest twist to the soap opera that is Blaine's life, but as it is, he's just glad his mother is out grocery shopping and won't be contributing until later on.
"He never gave you presents?" Cynthia repeats, and it's strange that this is the first time she's ever fully registered that Blaine has had a shitty life, despite the fact that he knows his parents have talked to her repeatedly about what's happened to him on at least a general level. He's even seen his old Stranger Danger books in her room, but this seems to be the first piece of information she's been given that she's been able to relate to on any level and suddenly she's staring at him like she's going to burst into tears.
"He gave me things," Blaine says, quickly in an attempt to avoid the waterworks. "Just not for birthdays."
It's not a lie. Tom spoiled him rotten when it came to giving Blaine toys and, when he got older, the latest technology and video games.
"You got presents for nothing?" Cynthia asks, trying to process what he's telling her, trying to find a silver lining.
"No," Blaine says, evasively. "I had to work for it."
"Like chores?" Cynthia asks, getting over her near-brush with hysteria and firing off questions like he's under interrogation. He has no idea what to say to her and he's so uncomfortable about the possibility of having to explain things, he wants to find the nearest cliff and throw himself off of it. Fortunately Dad finally comes out of his shocked daze to pick up on what's going on and save him the trouble of answering.
"Not like chores, Cynthia. Blaine means that he felt like he had to do things that made him uncomfortable every time Brenner gave him anything."
"Like take a bath?" Cynthia asks, so quickly it almost sounds like she's trying to trick him into revealing something with about as much tact and finesse as he's come to expect from her. Which is when Blaine figures out the little shit is trying to make him uneasy on purpose, like some twisted sort of payback for making her feel pity for once in her self-centered little life.
"Enough Cynthia," Dad says. "You know what I mean. We've talked about this. Quit bothering your brother and go play in your room."
Cynthia shoots both of them a baleful look before getting up and slowly walking out with an air of injured dignity that could only have been learned from the cat.
"She's gotten so nosey," Mom frowns later on that evening when she finds out about what happened. "I don't know what her problem is."
Blaine is feeling more gracious towards his sister now that some time has passed and offers a conciliatory,
"Maybe it's just a phase? Kurt said that a couple days ago Stacey asked Sam's girlfriend why she was so fat."
Mom winces a little but admits,
"It shouldn't make me feel better to know that she's not the only one testing boundaries this way, but-"
"Oh no, she is," Blaine interrupts, because he's not feeling that gracious yet. "Stacey got an hour long lecture in front of a Vogue magazine from Quinn and Mercedes about body types in the media. Now they're just trying to stop her from going up to overweight people in the supermarket to tell them it's okay because big is beautiful. Everyone's still embarrassed but she's not doing it to make people feel bad anymore. Cynthia just likes trying to bully people."
"But moving on from sisters," Mom says pointedly, "what do you want to do for your birthday? Lola told me she'd have my head on a platter if she heard that I pulled the same thing I did for Christmas, but it is your first one back with us. We've been waiting for it for a long time."
"Do we have to do anything?" Blaine asks quietly, forcing himself to ignore the way her face falls and concentrating on keeping his voice from wavering. "I don't mean - I know it's important to you, but I don't really want anything. I want to stay home with all of you and maybe Kurt and just... hide. I don't want... sometimes I feel like I'm all anyone talks about and I hate it. I don't need anything for my birthday, but what I want is to spend one day where it feels like not everything is about me and my life."
Mom pulls him into a hug and holds him until he assumes she starts to feel a little better before finally saying,
"I think we can work something out."
Blaine's birthday is perfect when it arrives: a little sad, but non-descript, low-key, and he doesn't leave the house or turn on the television once the entire time. Even though Kurt complains somewhat loudly about empty calories when Cynthia drags him out to the nearest Dairy Queen for an ice cream cake after it comes out that Blaine can't remember even trying one before, it ends up being one of the best days Blaine's had since Jacob posted the video.
***
Kurt gets his acceptance letter to NYU in the beginning of March, just when he'd morosely given up on hearing back from anyone. The trial is scheduled to start in a couple months and if it were anything else distracting him from the panic and fear that stops him cold whenever he thinks about seeing Tom again and testifying, Blaine would have welcomed it with open arms. Now he's just struck with the horrifying realization that just because his life is so abnormal, it doesn't stop him from having normal problems along with all the other ones. Suddenly their plans for the future are more than just unattainable possibilities, they're actually happening. Kurt's really leaving next fall to go live in New York, and if everything works the way they assume it will, Blaine will eventually join him. Even when the trial is over now, his life still won't be what he wants it to be and it makes Blaine want to hide under a blanket with all the lights out. He just wants his life to slow down while the people he loves all stay in the same place. Still, he tries his hardest to be happy for Kurt and when that fails, he settles for trying to at least act like he's happy. Kurt's so elated it takes a while for him to notice.
"It's your second choice," Blaine smiles. "That's really good, Kurt."
"It's almost like a first choice," Kurt admits, taking out the letter to look at it again for the fourth time since he walked into the room. He holds it like it's made of gold. "I never had enough extracirriculars my senior year to make NYADA happen anyhow."
"Sorry about that," Blaine mutters, trying not to let too much guilt show in his voice.
"Enough," Kurt says in a warning voice, because this is a fight they've had before. "I already told you, what I did with my time this year was my decision and I don't regret any of it. The Dalton drama department doesn't believe in giving out lead roles to students who haven't worked their way through the system the entire four years anyhow. I wasn't even expecting to get into the NYU drama program, so can we focus on that, please?"
Blaine feels a little better when Kurt promises him this is the way it would have been anyhow, like he always does, but it doesn't make him feel better about the larger issues. Kurt evidently knows that too, because he finally looks at Blaine a little sadly as he pulls him into a one-armed hug and sighs,
"It's only going to be a semester, Blaine. Then you'll be coming up to join me for the Winter semester. We've managed long distance so far, right?"
"Lima isn't New York, Kurt," Blaine says. "You go to school here. I see you every day."
He looks at Kurt a little helplessly.
"One semester feels like it could be a long time."
"But we'll get through it," Kurt says, confidently.
"And when we've gotten through it, it means I have to leave them again," Blaine says, gesturing vaguely to his bedroom as Kurt's face softens in comprehension. "They just got me back. It doesn't seem fair."
"Blaine," Kurt says, slowly. "You know it's okay if you don't want to go to NYU with me, right? You shouldn't move away from your family if you don't want to. Long distance relationships are hard, but they're still better than you doing something for me you don't want to do. I don't want you to end up resenting me for anything."
"I don't know what I want," Blaine says, after a long pause. "I want to go to New York, and it's not just something I want to do for you. I love the idea of a place where people won't notice me the same way. I don't want to hide exactly, but I'm so tired of people staring at me where ever I go. So many people in New York get to be famous for what they've done, what they want to be known for. There are so many other people to look at there, I wouldn't be as big of a deal."
"Don't try to decide right now," Kurt says. "Everything that's happening to you here is still so new to you, Blaine. Spend some time getting used to that before you start planning the next four years of your life for real, okay? Don't worry about any of us. Just find out what's right for you."
"I know," Blaine says. "But whatever I do, it doesn't change the fact that for at least one semester, I'm going to be stuck missing you."
"I'm still here right now," Kurt offers, uncertain. "Do you - do you want to go do something? Like the movies?"
"Really Kurt?" Blaine says, smirking. "That's how you're going to help me solve this? 21 Jump Street. Again?"
"Blaine," Kurt's voice is clipped and unimpressed. "For the last time, I said Channing Tatum is cute, not that I want to marry him. Besides, if you want good, solid advice about the future, you could do a lot worse than the good people at 21 Jump Street. They care about the youth of America."
Blaine throws a pillow in Kurt's face, who retaliates by tackling him to the bed and tickling his sides. They never make it to the movie, but neither of them are too upset.
***
The media interest only intensifies now as the trial gets closer, syncing up nicely with his anxiety about the trial. He starts leaving the room when the TV gets turned on and looking the other direction when he sees a newspaper for fear he'll see his or Tom's face looking back at him. The breaking point finally comes after a meeting with the prosecution when they remind him about using his medical history to corroborate testimony.
"I'm really sorry, Blaine," the lawyer says, even though Blaine doesn't think he sounds nearly sorry enough. "But you won't be the one who has to talk about it, and we have to present it in court. It's almost impossible for you to have contracted it in any other situation but the one Brenner is on trial for. It's one of the only damning pieces of evidence we have. It's circumstantial, but there's very little he can do to defend himself against it."
Blaine spends the rest of the day hardly talking to anyone and unable to look Kurt in the eye.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he keeps asking. Blaine just smiles vaguely in his direction and nods reassuringly, even though Kurt never looks reassured. Blaine knows his boyfriend is only worried, but he can't talk about this right now, not without crying, and he can't look upset or angry, like this is all too much for him in case someone starts fucking blogging about how he's unstable and could be an unreliable witness. Kurt thinks he's being paranoid, but Blaine doesn't want anything to go wrong. He has nightmares about getting on the stand and hurting the case more than he helps it, because the defence makes him look violent, or like a liar, or a slut, or delinquent.
By the time he gets to his next session with Dr. Hong he's exhausted from trying to act like he's okay with where his life is going. He ends up hunched in on himself with his hands over his face, crying the entire hour as she rubs his shoulder and makes him cup after cup of fresh tea that goes completely untouched. He still hasn't managed to get a single word out by the end of the session, so Dr. Hong marches him to the front desk as soon as the hour is up to schedule an emergency appointment . He's in slightly better shape when he's sitting in her office again that Saturday, leaning back in his chair and staring at the patterns on the ceiling as he talks.
"I need to hide and there's nowhere I can go," he says.
"What do you want to hide from?" she asks.
"Everything. I want to be in control of my own life, and that still isn't happening. Things were supposed to be better now that I've gotten away from him, but they're not."
"Why do you feel you're not in control, Blaine?"
Blaine snorts.
"Because I'm not? They're going to be talking about my fucking herpes on the witness stand. I have to talk to everyone about all the things he used to do to me - things I never wanted anyone to find out about, and then when I'm finished, some shithead lawyer is going to start trying to make me look like a sociopath who can't be trusted just to save Tom from getting into as much trouble as he deserves. It's not my fault but he's still making sure I'm the one who's getting punished. He's still in charge of everything."
"Our legal system has a lot of flaws," Dr. Hong admits. "It's not right that you're the one who feels like you're being put on trial, but as terrible as that is, Tom can't control you. Not in the court and certainly not outside of it."
"He can just get the lawyers and the journalists to do it for him," Blaine says. "Ever since that video got leaked, people keep trying to make me look like I'm a spoiled little brat doing this for the attention, and whenever I go outside, all I can think is, 'God I hope no one's watching me today.' I didn't want attention. I wanted to feel like there was more to my life than what he's made of it. I wanted to take control back and now I've got less than ever."
"Do you ever talk to anyone else about this?" Dr. Hong asks. "Like your family or your friends?"
Blaine only shakes his head.
"Not much," he answers. "I have trouble explaining the way I'm feeling at the best of times, and everything about how I feel about Tom lately is such a mess. Everyone's upset right now, waiting for something to happen. I don't want to make them feel any worse than I normally do."
"You think you make your family feel bad?"
"I think they don't know me," Blaine says. "I don't mean like they hate me or anything. Most days I know they love me, but they don't know me either. They're always going to be disappointed that I wasn't found when I was seven and that I grew up without them. Sometimes I can't handle looking at them because all I want to do is apologize for not finding them sooner. Then I feel like banging my head against the wall because I'm supposed to be past all of that now."
"But they don't hold it against you," Dr. Hong says. "You've told me before you've sorted that out."
"But I hold it against me," Blaine says. "And I don't understand how they can't. I'm the one whose thrown their world into chaos. It's all I've ever done to them. The more the trial fucks up their life, the worse I feel about what I've done to them. They try to hide how bad it is, and how worried they are, but you can't hide something like that. Even if Tom rots in jail until the day he dies, they're still going to be waiting for me to disappear again, like I'm not real, or it can't last. And the really shitty thing is they're right. My friends who are graduating on time are all planning their futures around me and are getting ready to go to university or travel and I'm stuck in Westerville trying to decide if I should start doing the same or just stay here for the next four years because I broke my parents so much they have to watch me walk down the sidewalk to make sure I reach my car okay."
"Blaine," Dr. Hong starts, but Blaine cuts her off.
"I know," he says. "Okay? I know. I'm not the one who did anything wrong, but it's still how I feel. I feel like I should have tried harder to get out, and sooner. Everyone keeps saying they understand why I didn't, but I wish someone would explain it to me. I don't blame the papers for not getting it. I don't get it, either."
"Would you like to talk about that right now?" Dr. Hong suggests. "What you want to do after high school?"
Blaine shrugs. It sounds better than wasting yet another session of talking himself in circles about his guilt complex.
"What do your friends think you should do about college?" She asks. "Have you asked any of them for advice?"
"I can't really talk about it to Kurt," Blaine admits. "I mean, I try to change the subject when he starts talking about it. He's trying really hard to give me space to make my own decisions, but I know what he wants and I don't know if I can give that to him. I'm scared that whatever I do will destroy what we have, because none of my options are going to make either one of us completely happy. It's like once we leave this bubble we're in right now, where all the shitty things we're dealing with are things no normal couple has to work through, any real relationship problem is going to blow us out of the water."
"No couple is completely happy, Blaine," Dr. Hong says. "Everyone fights, everyone has at least one blowout where someone sleeps on the couch for a few nights, no matter how well they work together. You and Kurt will have a lot of problems once the trial is over, but just keep doing what you do with your problems now: talk. The main reason normal couples fall apart is because communication stops. God knows it's why I got divorced."
"Should you be admitting that to me?" Blaine asks, but Dr. Hong seems unconcerned.
"I'm a child psychologist, not a marriage counsellor," she says, before persevering with the main subject. "Blaine, if you're really worried about what you should do for college, talk to some of your friends about it, not just Kurt. Get some ideas and advice from people who aren't as close the situation as the two of you and your family are. Everyone has to leave home sometime, Blaine. Believe it or not, the anxiety you're feeling right now would still be there if you had never been taken. Advice from people with emotional distance can really help put things in perspective."
"You have emotional distance," Blaine says. "You give good advice. Can't you just tell me what I should do with the rest of my life?"
"My advice is to talk to other friends," Dr. Hong shoots back. "I already got your boyfriend into bed with you Blaine. If I keep dictating your life for you, this relationship will devolve into a Dr. Frankenstein and his monster scenario. Believe, we don't want to go there."
"I ask for help and you're throwing last night's horror marathon in my face?" Blaine asks, incredulously.
"Did you watch it, too?" She asks, completely unashamed.
"Kurt tried to make me," Blaine says. "But watching horror movies with him and Finn is exhausting. They always spend hours afterwards perfecting their zombie defense plans, and if I'm not going to get any sleep I'd prefer it be for better reasons."
"You're welcome," Dr. Hong smirks, before sobering up slightly to add, "Seriously Blaine. Talk to some people. Your friends, and maybe the counsellor at your school. Your future needs to be your decision, but it shouldn't be something you decide all by yourself."
To Part Five C
Author:
firefly_ca
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt/Blaine, with appearances by Stevie and the Evans family, the Andersons, and large swaths of Glee clubbers (New Directions and Warblers)
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing themes, scenes, etc.
Word Count: 104K - this section is around 20K
Spoilers: All of S2 and up to around 3x12
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson lived under another name for almost nine years with an abusive man he was forced to pretend was his father. He always thought his own family had given up on him, but now that he's found out the majority of his life was spent believing a lie, he has to try to reconcile the life he had with the life that was taken away from him. Sequel to Looking for a Happy Ending.
Note: Huge thanks to my betas LoonyLevicorpus and callmerayray for taking the fic and trying to help me avoid stupid typos and things that make no sense this time around. Any mistakes you find are all from last-minute edits I made before I posted. Because sometimes I can't leave good enough alone.
A/N: I've never watched an episode of second generation Skins in my life (I could never get past not seeing first generation anymore), but everything in this section about Naomi and Emily comes from the ever-helpful LoonyLevicorpus.
Christmas is very nearly the death of Blaine. The problem is that, while he is mentally prepared to deal with the emotion of his first Christmas back home, he isn't expecting to have to deal with all the Christmases he missed at the same time. In the days leading up to the 25th of December, he watches the living room fill up with more and more presents labelled for him with growing alarm.
"Why are there so many?" He asks. His mom rubs him on the shoulder happily.
"You were gone a long time," she says simply.
"You bought me presents every year?" Blaine is a little terrified when he starts to think of everything he'll be forced to sit down and open Christmas morning. All the eyes that will be watching him as he exhumes the childhood he never got, trying not to look as devastated as he's sure he'll feel.
"Blaine?" Mom is starting to look worried. "Are you okay? I know there's a lot, but it's not so bad. We scaled back a lot after that first year you were gone. The first year Dad and I went all out and bought you absolutely everything you had been asking for. We were convinced that we would find you by Christmas morning and wanted to show you how badly you'd been missed. But you didn't come home, and soon we were more worried about putting money into finding you than buying presents, so we limited it to one gift a year after that, from each of us - and from Cynthia too, when she came along. But your grandparents all gave you things each year, too, and some family friends. It adds up."
"There's so much," is all Blaine can manage to say as the sinking feeling inside of him gets worse and harder to ignore. Opening a ridiculous amount of new presents would be hard enough, but something about digging through piles of gifts in front of an audience, opening memories that aren't his, makes him want to ask Kurt if he can hide at his house for the holidays.
Mom tries to make it better when she realizes how badly it's bothering him, offering that they just keep the important presents for Christmas morning and open the smaller things now. Except everything is an important present. One is the gift his grandmother gave to him the first year he was gone, and another is the last present his best friend in elementary school bought for him before he moved to Columbus. Everything carries a value for his mother that makes everything too important to open before everyone is there to watch. Blaine starts to feel like there are bugs crawling around inside his chest whenever he walks past the tree. He tries not to let his anxiety show, but sometimes he can't help it.
When Lola arrives two days before Christmas with Blaine's other grandparents, she realizes what his problem is almost immediately, after just two minutes of listening to Mom's plans and honest-to-God printed-out schedule for Christmas morning.
"Really Diane," she says, in a tone that even Blaine has to admit is pretty condescending, despite the fact that she's taking his side. "If he says he doesn't want to open them, why should he? He's not a little boy. What's he going to do with a little boy's presents?"
Mom's response is a little less than gracious,
"You can't just come in here and start telling me what to do anymore, Mother. This isn't your house and he's not your son."
Lola almost looks contrite, but when Blaine apologises for getting her into trouble later on, she waves him off unconcernedly.
"Your mother has always been crazy around holidays," she says. "She likes to throw a party but panics when it doesn't go the way she pictures it. She'll get over it, she always does."
"You fight a lot?" Blaine asks, and Lola pats him on the cheek.
"Always," she says. "One day you'll get used to having her back and start fighting with her just as much as I do. It's how we show affection in this family."
"Mom says you always say that so you don't have to make yourself a better person," Cynthia says from where she has been glued to Lola's side ever since the woman walked into the house.
"Hmmm," says Lola, her eyes flashing just a little as she mulls the comment over. She seems calm enough, but Blaine considers driving out to Lima for the evening, just in case.
It's the concentrated efforts of Dad and all his grandparents combined that end up saving him from the Christmas from Hell. They team up to talk to Mom and convince her that in this scenario, giving back might be better than "ruining Blaine's first Christmas home with a selfish and immature attitude." That last bit had been Lola's contribution, and had almost ruined the entire mission until Dad got things back on track. As a result of his efforts, on Christmas Eve he and Blaine are able to load up the car with the countless boxes and drive them over to a local homeless shelter. Blaine even spots his dad sneaking in the odd present with birthday paper on it but wisely chooses not to mention it.
"Is Mom really angry?" Blaine asks before they leave. Lola makes a noise of derision.
"You mother is always angry at Christmas," she says. "I told you. Even before you left. It hardly counts anymore. These presents are yours and if you don't want them, that's up to you. I mostly bought you underwear anyhow. You can't use any of it. I'll open a nice bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet to go with dinner and pretend I brought it as a gift. She'll forgive us all. You'll see."
She's not wrong.
"Your grandmother is so cool," Kurt says that night as they talk over Skype, his eyes lighting up like someone's just told him Taylor Lautner came out of the closet especially to woo him.
"I know, I know," Blaine says, rolling his eyes a little. It's not that he doesn't agree, but since she's shown up for the holidays, Lola has quickly become the only thing his friends talk about. Everyone's a fan. Even David has called up to chat and wish him season's greetings only to not-so-subtly suggest that Lola "might want to try using Skype for the first time. She'd love it. Put her on."
It all starts not long after his grandparents arrive, when some crazy Bible-thumping evangelist with his own network comes under fire in the mainstream media for using pictures of Blaine and Kurt hugging at Sectionals for a segment on his show called "The Sickness of Sodom: Protecting Our Children." Blaine, in his newfound cynicism towards the media, doesn't see how mainstream news is treating him any better than the crazy pastor, but they evidently think otherwise, probably because the story coincides with a newly released report on teen suicide in the queer community, making everyone want to look as supportive and opposed to homophobia as possible. The day after the story breaks Rachel shows up on his doorstep with trays full of vegan cupcakes and a pinched expression on her face. Lola is in the kitchen with a matching expression, trying to impress upon his other grandparents lessons about equality they already know. The two of them bond instantly over furtive plans to rope the senior's lodge and the Lima chapter of PFLAG into a massive letter-writing campaign to promote education and awareness.
"Your dads can explain why the people with the Jesus theme parks are destroying America," Lola says happily, as Blaine tries to ignore the rapt expressions on Kurt's and Rachel's faces as they listen. "And the ladies in our quilting circle will write about how everyone knows the gay-hating Christians are only like that because they know no gay man would have them. They want anal sex and they are not getting it. Someone needs to tell them they're not fooling us before they embarrass themselves even more."
"I don't know if that's true," Rachel says, cautiously. Lola just smiles at her.
"Of course it's true, sweetie. You ask your daddies. No one thinks about gay sex that much unless they want it. Or want to watch. Sometimes what you really want is to watch."
"I thought you just did a miscellaneous craft night, I didn't know you were part of a quilting circle," Kurt comments, in an attempt to steer the conversation towards less mentally-scarring waters. Blaine wants to know why his boyfriend knows so much about his grandmother's social life.
"That's on Thursdays," Lola says dismissively. "On Tuesdays we quilt and talk about the new show Agnes's granddaughter lent to us. It's lovely. Young people make appalling life choices that I wish had been available to me."
She breaks off and laughs loudly, in a way that is at once both terrifying and hypnotic.
"There are two girls on it who are just precious. Such a nice-looking pair. It's a shame they can't get each other pregnant, because their children would be lovely. We're making a commemorative quilt for them with a moped and empty liquor bottles on it. Gay people are much better with British accents. Blaine, I think if you started using one, people would stop having issues with you. But I suppose that's not the point. You shouldn't have to be foreign to find acceptance."
The next day, Rachel comes back and brings her fathers with her. They don't leave for four hours.
From that point on, the Legend of Lola is something Blaine just has to resign himself to. Where ever Lola goes, crowds of admirers seem to follow. Neighbours pop over for unexpected visits at least twice a day. Warblers show up for impromptu performances on the front lawn. Mercedes invites herself over to have tea like it's an everyday occurrence. It's hilarious and exhausting, but in the end Blaine thinks that maybe anything that gets some of the attention off of him is the best present he could ever be given.
When it finally arrives, Christmas is a mostly relaxed affair, with his friends' focus mostly landing on Lola, and his family's focus going to Cynthia, who has so much sugar in her body by the time they're ready to open gifts she requires six pairs of eyes on her at all times to make sure she doesn't burn the house down. On the occasions when he starts to feel like people are staring at him a little too long, or talking about him when he's out of the room, he tries to offset the feeling by imagining what his Christmases will be like when it's just him and Kurt, and no one's treating him like he's been missing and they can't believe he's back. When it's just him and Kurt, everything will be new without any ugly history getting in the way. He doesn't even realize the implications of dreaming about a future with Kurt until well after the fact and when he does, he can't bring himself to worry about it much.
***
It would be nice if Christmas marked the end of Blaine's issues with being watched by people. His life would be so much easier if he just taught himself not to care, but as soon as the decorations have been put back into their boxes, the talk almost immediately shifts to his birthday. Combined with all the media attention suddenly being focused on him again, the effect is stifling. He didn't know he'd been born in February, hasn't even thought about his birthday since his return back home, and now people are asking him what he wants, and how it feels to be almost 17.
"I'm younger than I thought," he manages when Dad asks the question.
"What?" Dad smiles, cautiously, like he knows he won't like the answer but is pretending things are alright anyway. "Did you think we'd missed it? You had to have known that we wouldn't let your birthday go by uncelebrated, right?"
"I thought you had," Blaine says, helplessly. "I don't remember any of my birthdays. I didn't know it was in February."
"You forgot your own birthday?" Cynthia sounds horrified. "How did you know when to have parties?"
"I didn't," Blaine says. "We didn't do stuff like that. How am I not 17 yet?"
He feels panicked.
"I'm supposed to be a senior this year. February is past the age cut-off."
"They bumped you up a year in the first grade," Dad says, gently, trying not to let the worry show on his face. "You really don't remember? I can't believe you never asked."
"If you didn't have parties when did you have cake and presents?" Cynthia demands, her voice shaking a little.
"I never got cakes," Blaine says, and a corner of his mind wishes he was able to find the humour in each person in the room having his or her own individual crisis over this newest twist to the soap opera that is Blaine's life, but as it is, he's just glad his mother is out grocery shopping and won't be contributing until later on.
"He never gave you presents?" Cynthia repeats, and it's strange that this is the first time she's ever fully registered that Blaine has had a shitty life, despite the fact that he knows his parents have talked to her repeatedly about what's happened to him on at least a general level. He's even seen his old Stranger Danger books in her room, but this seems to be the first piece of information she's been given that she's been able to relate to on any level and suddenly she's staring at him like she's going to burst into tears.
"He gave me things," Blaine says, quickly in an attempt to avoid the waterworks. "Just not for birthdays."
It's not a lie. Tom spoiled him rotten when it came to giving Blaine toys and, when he got older, the latest technology and video games.
"You got presents for nothing?" Cynthia asks, trying to process what he's telling her, trying to find a silver lining.
"No," Blaine says, evasively. "I had to work for it."
"Like chores?" Cynthia asks, getting over her near-brush with hysteria and firing off questions like he's under interrogation. He has no idea what to say to her and he's so uncomfortable about the possibility of having to explain things, he wants to find the nearest cliff and throw himself off of it. Fortunately Dad finally comes out of his shocked daze to pick up on what's going on and save him the trouble of answering.
"Not like chores, Cynthia. Blaine means that he felt like he had to do things that made him uncomfortable every time Brenner gave him anything."
"Like take a bath?" Cynthia asks, so quickly it almost sounds like she's trying to trick him into revealing something with about as much tact and finesse as he's come to expect from her. Which is when Blaine figures out the little shit is trying to make him uneasy on purpose, like some twisted sort of payback for making her feel pity for once in her self-centered little life.
"Enough Cynthia," Dad says. "You know what I mean. We've talked about this. Quit bothering your brother and go play in your room."
Cynthia shoots both of them a baleful look before getting up and slowly walking out with an air of injured dignity that could only have been learned from the cat.
"She's gotten so nosey," Mom frowns later on that evening when she finds out about what happened. "I don't know what her problem is."
Blaine is feeling more gracious towards his sister now that some time has passed and offers a conciliatory,
"Maybe it's just a phase? Kurt said that a couple days ago Stacey asked Sam's girlfriend why she was so fat."
Mom winces a little but admits,
"It shouldn't make me feel better to know that she's not the only one testing boundaries this way, but-"
"Oh no, she is," Blaine interrupts, because he's not feeling that gracious yet. "Stacey got an hour long lecture in front of a Vogue magazine from Quinn and Mercedes about body types in the media. Now they're just trying to stop her from going up to overweight people in the supermarket to tell them it's okay because big is beautiful. Everyone's still embarrassed but she's not doing it to make people feel bad anymore. Cynthia just likes trying to bully people."
"But moving on from sisters," Mom says pointedly, "what do you want to do for your birthday? Lola told me she'd have my head on a platter if she heard that I pulled the same thing I did for Christmas, but it is your first one back with us. We've been waiting for it for a long time."
"Do we have to do anything?" Blaine asks quietly, forcing himself to ignore the way her face falls and concentrating on keeping his voice from wavering. "I don't mean - I know it's important to you, but I don't really want anything. I want to stay home with all of you and maybe Kurt and just... hide. I don't want... sometimes I feel like I'm all anyone talks about and I hate it. I don't need anything for my birthday, but what I want is to spend one day where it feels like not everything is about me and my life."
Mom pulls him into a hug and holds him until he assumes she starts to feel a little better before finally saying,
"I think we can work something out."
Blaine's birthday is perfect when it arrives: a little sad, but non-descript, low-key, and he doesn't leave the house or turn on the television once the entire time. Even though Kurt complains somewhat loudly about empty calories when Cynthia drags him out to the nearest Dairy Queen for an ice cream cake after it comes out that Blaine can't remember even trying one before, it ends up being one of the best days Blaine's had since Jacob posted the video.
***
Kurt gets his acceptance letter to NYU in the beginning of March, just when he'd morosely given up on hearing back from anyone. The trial is scheduled to start in a couple months and if it were anything else distracting him from the panic and fear that stops him cold whenever he thinks about seeing Tom again and testifying, Blaine would have welcomed it with open arms. Now he's just struck with the horrifying realization that just because his life is so abnormal, it doesn't stop him from having normal problems along with all the other ones. Suddenly their plans for the future are more than just unattainable possibilities, they're actually happening. Kurt's really leaving next fall to go live in New York, and if everything works the way they assume it will, Blaine will eventually join him. Even when the trial is over now, his life still won't be what he wants it to be and it makes Blaine want to hide under a blanket with all the lights out. He just wants his life to slow down while the people he loves all stay in the same place. Still, he tries his hardest to be happy for Kurt and when that fails, he settles for trying to at least act like he's happy. Kurt's so elated it takes a while for him to notice.
"It's your second choice," Blaine smiles. "That's really good, Kurt."
"It's almost like a first choice," Kurt admits, taking out the letter to look at it again for the fourth time since he walked into the room. He holds it like it's made of gold. "I never had enough extracirriculars my senior year to make NYADA happen anyhow."
"Sorry about that," Blaine mutters, trying not to let too much guilt show in his voice.
"Enough," Kurt says in a warning voice, because this is a fight they've had before. "I already told you, what I did with my time this year was my decision and I don't regret any of it. The Dalton drama department doesn't believe in giving out lead roles to students who haven't worked their way through the system the entire four years anyhow. I wasn't even expecting to get into the NYU drama program, so can we focus on that, please?"
Blaine feels a little better when Kurt promises him this is the way it would have been anyhow, like he always does, but it doesn't make him feel better about the larger issues. Kurt evidently knows that too, because he finally looks at Blaine a little sadly as he pulls him into a one-armed hug and sighs,
"It's only going to be a semester, Blaine. Then you'll be coming up to join me for the Winter semester. We've managed long distance so far, right?"
"Lima isn't New York, Kurt," Blaine says. "You go to school here. I see you every day."
He looks at Kurt a little helplessly.
"One semester feels like it could be a long time."
"But we'll get through it," Kurt says, confidently.
"And when we've gotten through it, it means I have to leave them again," Blaine says, gesturing vaguely to his bedroom as Kurt's face softens in comprehension. "They just got me back. It doesn't seem fair."
"Blaine," Kurt says, slowly. "You know it's okay if you don't want to go to NYU with me, right? You shouldn't move away from your family if you don't want to. Long distance relationships are hard, but they're still better than you doing something for me you don't want to do. I don't want you to end up resenting me for anything."
"I don't know what I want," Blaine says, after a long pause. "I want to go to New York, and it's not just something I want to do for you. I love the idea of a place where people won't notice me the same way. I don't want to hide exactly, but I'm so tired of people staring at me where ever I go. So many people in New York get to be famous for what they've done, what they want to be known for. There are so many other people to look at there, I wouldn't be as big of a deal."
"Don't try to decide right now," Kurt says. "Everything that's happening to you here is still so new to you, Blaine. Spend some time getting used to that before you start planning the next four years of your life for real, okay? Don't worry about any of us. Just find out what's right for you."
"I know," Blaine says. "But whatever I do, it doesn't change the fact that for at least one semester, I'm going to be stuck missing you."
"I'm still here right now," Kurt offers, uncertain. "Do you - do you want to go do something? Like the movies?"
"Really Kurt?" Blaine says, smirking. "That's how you're going to help me solve this? 21 Jump Street. Again?"
"Blaine," Kurt's voice is clipped and unimpressed. "For the last time, I said Channing Tatum is cute, not that I want to marry him. Besides, if you want good, solid advice about the future, you could do a lot worse than the good people at 21 Jump Street. They care about the youth of America."
Blaine throws a pillow in Kurt's face, who retaliates by tackling him to the bed and tickling his sides. They never make it to the movie, but neither of them are too upset.
***
The media interest only intensifies now as the trial gets closer, syncing up nicely with his anxiety about the trial. He starts leaving the room when the TV gets turned on and looking the other direction when he sees a newspaper for fear he'll see his or Tom's face looking back at him. The breaking point finally comes after a meeting with the prosecution when they remind him about using his medical history to corroborate testimony.
"I'm really sorry, Blaine," the lawyer says, even though Blaine doesn't think he sounds nearly sorry enough. "But you won't be the one who has to talk about it, and we have to present it in court. It's almost impossible for you to have contracted it in any other situation but the one Brenner is on trial for. It's one of the only damning pieces of evidence we have. It's circumstantial, but there's very little he can do to defend himself against it."
Blaine spends the rest of the day hardly talking to anyone and unable to look Kurt in the eye.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he keeps asking. Blaine just smiles vaguely in his direction and nods reassuringly, even though Kurt never looks reassured. Blaine knows his boyfriend is only worried, but he can't talk about this right now, not without crying, and he can't look upset or angry, like this is all too much for him in case someone starts fucking blogging about how he's unstable and could be an unreliable witness. Kurt thinks he's being paranoid, but Blaine doesn't want anything to go wrong. He has nightmares about getting on the stand and hurting the case more than he helps it, because the defence makes him look violent, or like a liar, or a slut, or delinquent.
By the time he gets to his next session with Dr. Hong he's exhausted from trying to act like he's okay with where his life is going. He ends up hunched in on himself with his hands over his face, crying the entire hour as she rubs his shoulder and makes him cup after cup of fresh tea that goes completely untouched. He still hasn't managed to get a single word out by the end of the session, so Dr. Hong marches him to the front desk as soon as the hour is up to schedule an emergency appointment . He's in slightly better shape when he's sitting in her office again that Saturday, leaning back in his chair and staring at the patterns on the ceiling as he talks.
"I need to hide and there's nowhere I can go," he says.
"What do you want to hide from?" she asks.
"Everything. I want to be in control of my own life, and that still isn't happening. Things were supposed to be better now that I've gotten away from him, but they're not."
"Why do you feel you're not in control, Blaine?"
Blaine snorts.
"Because I'm not? They're going to be talking about my fucking herpes on the witness stand. I have to talk to everyone about all the things he used to do to me - things I never wanted anyone to find out about, and then when I'm finished, some shithead lawyer is going to start trying to make me look like a sociopath who can't be trusted just to save Tom from getting into as much trouble as he deserves. It's not my fault but he's still making sure I'm the one who's getting punished. He's still in charge of everything."
"Our legal system has a lot of flaws," Dr. Hong admits. "It's not right that you're the one who feels like you're being put on trial, but as terrible as that is, Tom can't control you. Not in the court and certainly not outside of it."
"He can just get the lawyers and the journalists to do it for him," Blaine says. "Ever since that video got leaked, people keep trying to make me look like I'm a spoiled little brat doing this for the attention, and whenever I go outside, all I can think is, 'God I hope no one's watching me today.' I didn't want attention. I wanted to feel like there was more to my life than what he's made of it. I wanted to take control back and now I've got less than ever."
"Do you ever talk to anyone else about this?" Dr. Hong asks. "Like your family or your friends?"
Blaine only shakes his head.
"Not much," he answers. "I have trouble explaining the way I'm feeling at the best of times, and everything about how I feel about Tom lately is such a mess. Everyone's upset right now, waiting for something to happen. I don't want to make them feel any worse than I normally do."
"You think you make your family feel bad?"
"I think they don't know me," Blaine says. "I don't mean like they hate me or anything. Most days I know they love me, but they don't know me either. They're always going to be disappointed that I wasn't found when I was seven and that I grew up without them. Sometimes I can't handle looking at them because all I want to do is apologize for not finding them sooner. Then I feel like banging my head against the wall because I'm supposed to be past all of that now."
"But they don't hold it against you," Dr. Hong says. "You've told me before you've sorted that out."
"But I hold it against me," Blaine says. "And I don't understand how they can't. I'm the one whose thrown their world into chaos. It's all I've ever done to them. The more the trial fucks up their life, the worse I feel about what I've done to them. They try to hide how bad it is, and how worried they are, but you can't hide something like that. Even if Tom rots in jail until the day he dies, they're still going to be waiting for me to disappear again, like I'm not real, or it can't last. And the really shitty thing is they're right. My friends who are graduating on time are all planning their futures around me and are getting ready to go to university or travel and I'm stuck in Westerville trying to decide if I should start doing the same or just stay here for the next four years because I broke my parents so much they have to watch me walk down the sidewalk to make sure I reach my car okay."
"Blaine," Dr. Hong starts, but Blaine cuts her off.
"I know," he says. "Okay? I know. I'm not the one who did anything wrong, but it's still how I feel. I feel like I should have tried harder to get out, and sooner. Everyone keeps saying they understand why I didn't, but I wish someone would explain it to me. I don't blame the papers for not getting it. I don't get it, either."
"Would you like to talk about that right now?" Dr. Hong suggests. "What you want to do after high school?"
Blaine shrugs. It sounds better than wasting yet another session of talking himself in circles about his guilt complex.
"What do your friends think you should do about college?" She asks. "Have you asked any of them for advice?"
"I can't really talk about it to Kurt," Blaine admits. "I mean, I try to change the subject when he starts talking about it. He's trying really hard to give me space to make my own decisions, but I know what he wants and I don't know if I can give that to him. I'm scared that whatever I do will destroy what we have, because none of my options are going to make either one of us completely happy. It's like once we leave this bubble we're in right now, where all the shitty things we're dealing with are things no normal couple has to work through, any real relationship problem is going to blow us out of the water."
"No couple is completely happy, Blaine," Dr. Hong says. "Everyone fights, everyone has at least one blowout where someone sleeps on the couch for a few nights, no matter how well they work together. You and Kurt will have a lot of problems once the trial is over, but just keep doing what you do with your problems now: talk. The main reason normal couples fall apart is because communication stops. God knows it's why I got divorced."
"Should you be admitting that to me?" Blaine asks, but Dr. Hong seems unconcerned.
"I'm a child psychologist, not a marriage counsellor," she says, before persevering with the main subject. "Blaine, if you're really worried about what you should do for college, talk to some of your friends about it, not just Kurt. Get some ideas and advice from people who aren't as close the situation as the two of you and your family are. Everyone has to leave home sometime, Blaine. Believe it or not, the anxiety you're feeling right now would still be there if you had never been taken. Advice from people with emotional distance can really help put things in perspective."
"You have emotional distance," Blaine says. "You give good advice. Can't you just tell me what I should do with the rest of my life?"
"My advice is to talk to other friends," Dr. Hong shoots back. "I already got your boyfriend into bed with you Blaine. If I keep dictating your life for you, this relationship will devolve into a Dr. Frankenstein and his monster scenario. Believe, we don't want to go there."
"I ask for help and you're throwing last night's horror marathon in my face?" Blaine asks, incredulously.
"Did you watch it, too?" She asks, completely unashamed.
"Kurt tried to make me," Blaine says. "But watching horror movies with him and Finn is exhausting. They always spend hours afterwards perfecting their zombie defense plans, and if I'm not going to get any sleep I'd prefer it be for better reasons."
"You're welcome," Dr. Hong smirks, before sobering up slightly to add, "Seriously Blaine. Talk to some people. Your friends, and maybe the counsellor at your school. Your future needs to be your decision, but it shouldn't be something you decide all by yourself."
To Part Five C