With You I Am Free (a Kurt Hummel Big Bang Fic) pt2

[kurtswish]

Kurt was sitting at his desk, school work long finished for the week with the help of a sleepless night two nights previously. He was sketching another idea for an outfit, trying to get the fastenings just right reading yet another random Wikipedia article when his phone dinged with an incoming text.




Without thinking Kurt called Blaine's number.

"You're sick?" Kurt asked before Blaine had a chance to properly answer the phone.

"Unfortunately. But what is your excuse Kurt for not being in class?”

Kurt's concern for Blaine was quickly taken over by a feeing a dread. He glanced at the clock, only 10 and even if it was later he knew his room was too quiet to pass as anything inside a high school. He knew that he had to come clean - at least partially. "Didn't I ever tell you? I'm homeschooled."

Blaine coughed before answering. "No, I'm sure I would have remembered that, Kurt." He didn't sound upset, in fact he sounded mildly amused. "But you know Kurt," his voice becoming serious. "You know you can tell me anything right? It's just that you keep telling me these stories about your glee club and your friends, and now you tell me that you don't go to school. I have been nothing but open and honest with you and I would hope you would do the same."

Kurt felt awful. Blaine had been open with him, not holding back details as they talked or wrote to each other. Yes, Kurt had been scared of letting someone in. But this was Blaine, a boy who while he didn't know him, was quickly coming to mean so much to him. Kurt wanted to trust him;, he needed to be able to find the strength to trust him. Something always held him back though. Kurt was tired of always being afraid. He was tired of the trapped feeling that permeates permeated everything he did. He swallowed and listened to Blaine breathing, a cough interrupting the steady rhythm. Moments passed and still Blaine waited patiently.

Kurt counted slowly to one hundred, calming the panicky feeling before speaking. "I know Blaine and I'm truly sorry. I um... It's not that I don't trust you... Well not you specifically, I just don't trust... uUm anything?" Kurt heard Blaine start to speak but spoke over him. "I haven't been to my high school in almost two years. I have been homeschooled since the beginning of this year. I promise I will try and explain one day, but I just can't today. I haven't really had to tell anyone, and it's hard to even..." The panic was building again as his words rushed out of him. He wanted to explain but there was no way he could, not without risking everything, every ounce of safety he felt rested in this secret. His breathe picked up and he could feel the prickle at his eyes. He didn’t want to lose control, but he could feel the small thread that seemed to stitch him together popping. His heart thudded in his chest, beginning to fill his ears.

"Hey hey, Kurt. It's okay, I promise it's okay." Blaine’,s worse voice cut through the haze his mind was caught in. Kurt focused on the comforting words coming through the phone. He let them penetrate the swirl of anxiety surrounding him until his breathing evened and his heart beat slowed. Finally he listened to what Blaine was actually saying. "It’s okay, I'm not really upset with you. Just breathe, Kurt please."

He finally felt the vice grip in his heart lessen. Blaine wasn't mad, everything could be fine. When he finally felt under control, except for the embarrassment he always felt in the aftermath of a panic attack, he spoke again.  "Thank you Blaine for understanding. I promise I will tell you one day, I... I just can't promise it will be soon. Alright?"

Over the line, Kurt could hear Blaine let out a breath, he sounded relieved when he said, "alright."

Silence hung over the line, Kurt unsure what to say following that moment. When Blaine still didn’t pick up the conversation, Kurt decided that it was up to him to do it. After another moment he asked, “So, you’re home sick, what’s wrong?”

Blaine gave a breathy laugh that turned into a cough. “Not home sick, more like stuck in the dorms sick. It’s not too bad, just a sinus infection, but I’m running a fever, the nurse sent me to my room.”

“They don’t send you home for that?” Kurt couldn’t help asking.

“No, she sent for the doctor, and I have meds and everything; but they don’t send us home unless the doctor tells them to or the fever lasts more than three days. It’s just easier that way. I mean my parents only live a couple of hours away but a lot of these guys are from out of state or their families are abroad.” Blaine sighed once more, “It isn’t too bad, but it sucks when you feel like crap and no one is there to take care of you. Do I lose coolness points if I admit I miss my mom?”

Though Blaine laughed Kurt couldn’t muster one in return. He knew well enough what it felt like to miss your mom. “Not at all,” he told Blaine,  “I understand.” He hesitated for a moment, and Blaine seemed to know that Kurt was on the precipice of sharing something more with him and kept quiet. “My mom, she died when I was 8, and… I mean I missed her every day, still do… but I think it is always hardest when I was am sick. I remember, when I was sick, she used to lay my head in her lap and scratch my back. Her only real indulgence she had was, she used to go once a month and get her nails done… and she… I don’t know, I just loved the way they felt when she would scratch up and down my spine. Even when I felt the worst,  having her do that would relax me and lull me to sleep better than anything. I remember the first time I got sick after she died, my dad… he tried, she had told him enough times how I would beg for her to scratch my back. so he ...and it just wasn’t the same. I remember he held me as I cried. There are still times I would give anything for her to be here and scratch my back just one more time.”

“Geez Kurt, now I feel bad…” Blaine started.

Kurt’s heart clenched at the thought that he cause Blaine any undue stress. “Don’t feel bad. I didn’t tell you to win pity points. I told you because…I know how it feels.”

“Thank you for trusting me enough to share,” he whispered down the phone line.

“So Blaine, what does your mom do when you are sick to make you feel better?” Kurt asked, an odd feeling stealing over him. He blinked in amazement when he realized it was confidence.

Blaine’s voice was quiet when he answered, “ She would tuck me into my bed and sit beside me and… well, she would sing this one song. It’s silly… I always loved horses and from the time I could talk I would beg her to sing this one song. It was my favorite;, it kind of became our song you know?”

“I think I do,” Kurt whispered before letting that spark of confidence take over, “Alright, are you in bed?”

“Yeah.” Blaine said confusion coloring his voice.

“Are you all tucked in snug, like she used to?” He continued.

“Uh huh”

“Perfect.” Then Kurt went with his gut feeling and sang, “Hush a bye don’t you cry, go to sleep little baby…” He let his high, clear voice carry through his room and over the connection to Blaine. He could hear Blaine’s breath hitch before settling into a steady rhythm.

When Kurt had finished the first refrain Blaine spoke up. “How did you know?”

“It was one of my favorites growing up too, and you said you loved horses so I thought maybe… is it helping?” Kurt said, feeling doubt creep in once more.

“A lot actually,” Blaine said before the feeling could fully take hold again. “Will you… will you keep singing?”

Hearing Blaine sound so small and vulnerable made something like protectiveness clench in his chest. “Of course,” he told him before beginning again.

After a few more rounds of the song he heard Blaine’s sleepy voice whisper, “You sound just like an angel Kurt.” Ice filled Kurt’s veins and his voice caught in his throat. He had just enough forethought to whisper, “Go to sleep Blaine,” before hanging up the phone. He tried to assure himself that Blaine couldn’t know, he couldn’t possibly know what those words meant to Kurt. He was trying to be sweet, or was delirious and didn’t know what he was saying. No matter how much he told himself that, he couldn’t keep the fear away. He raced into his en suite bathroom just in time to rid his body of the little breakfast he had eaten that morning. His eyes watered as his stomach clenched again and again producing nothing. When it was all over he leaned over the sink to rinse his mouth out, only to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face was ashen and his eyes bloodshot, but neither of these features held his attention for long. His eyes were drawn behind him where opalescent feathers arched up behind him peaking high over his head. He wanted to rip them out, be rid of them once and for all but knew from past experience it would do no good; he would pass out from the pain long before he made a dent in the wings. Instead he collapsed on the floor and drew himself into a ball, and cried as he remembered just why he could never let Blaine in fully.

Hours passed on that cold hard floor. Lunch was forgotten and dinner preparation as well as he sat body curled around his knees while his large, white wings unbidden enveloped his body. As much as Kurt loathed  them, the feel of them wrapped around, shielding him from the world made him feel safe. He hated it. He didn’t want this;, he just wanted to be normal. He laughed at himself at the thought; he had never been what anyone would consider normal in his life.

By the time he emerged from upstairs, both his father and Carole were home from work. Carole was cooking dinner, but made no comment to Kurt about his slacking in his duty. It wasn’t the first time they had come home from work to find the house quiet and the kitchen cold. They had learned long ago, that at times like those Kurt just needed to be left alone, to work through whatever had upset him without being made to feel exposed in his vulnerability. As he passed Kurt going into the living room, Burt squeezed Kurt’s bare shoulder tightly in comfort. Kurt’s heart squeezed at the action. He wanted to yell at his father that he missed his touch, he yearned for a body aching hug; but as the wings had grown touches from his family had shrunk, leaving Kurt feeling more alone than he could express.

It wasn’t until after  a quiet dinner with the four of them pushing food around on their plates that Burt finally broached the subject at all. “What’s got you down, bud?”  He asked when Kurt entered the living room, intent on heading back upstairs once more.

Kurt hated that question. His dad didn’t seem to realize that nothing had to happen for Kurt to feel like the world was a bleak, unfriendly place. More often in the last year, Kurt felt like he was trying desperately to dig himself out of a hole just for a glimpse of light and warmth. He longed for the days when he could freely laugh and enjoy life; even when things we not perfect, feeling like he was in control and things could get better. He hated that his father didn’t understand. “Nothing’s got me down,” he lied, admitting there was a cause this time would do nothing to make his father understand that it wasn’t always this way.

“Come on, Kurt, the last few weeks you seemed to be happier. You have been smiling more, and I even caught you singing the other day. I didn’t say anything, I guess because I didn’t want to jinx it. But then today I come home and all that seems to have vanished. So what happened?” Burt Hummel was leveling him with that piercing stare that used to always make Kurt ready to spout out the truth or run for cover. He would not back down this time.

“Nothing happened. I guess for a few days I forgot what my life is… and now I remember.” Kurt spat the words out, the taste of them reminding him of the bile that burned up his throat just hours before. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to his room and curl up on his bed. Maybe in sleep he could disappear from this world for a few hours.

His dad wouldn’t let him though, “And what is your life Kurt?” he asked his voice so damned soft and gentle, Kurt wanted to hurtle things across the room. He missed the gruff talks they used to have before he truly became a freak. There was a glimpse of that earlier but all that vanished in an instant.

Tears prickled at Kurt’s eyes, and he tried to stomp them down. They would not be held back though and as he spoke a few fell tracing his features like a lover’s caress. “Everything I dreamed of, everything I planned for, will never happen, not for me. I used to want to get away from Lima, I wanted to go to New York, study theatre or Fashion…” his voiced hitched when he admitted, “fall in love. But none of that will ever happen. I am going to die… alone… in this house, all because I am a freak of nature.”

“Now Kurt,” Burt tried only to be cut off before he could speak further.

“You know it’s true!” Kurt couldn’t deal with it anymore and fled to his room. His door slammed shut behind him before his dad could even think of moving an inch to comfort his son. As soon as the door banged shut behind him, Kurt couldn’t fight the anger welling up inside of him. It was all so unfair. Why shouldn’t he be able to live his dream? Why couldn’t he just be happy? Was it all too much to ask; a little bit of happiness? He wanted to lash out at whatever led him to this cruel fate. He could deal with everything else, his slightly more feminine looks, his high voice, being gay; he had embraced those things long ago; but why had nature, or god, or whatever twisted entity decided to make him a creature out of some long ago laughed at myth. Why was he the one to have papers written about him, not because of his talents, or his achievements, but because of growths that some deemed pretty, or majestic, or the dawn of a new subspecies of human beings, but most would call abominations?

With nothing concrete to focus his anger on, Kurt turned to his closet. Inside hung a daily reminder of one of the things he had lost. He flung shirts out of his closet by the handful, not caring the state they ended up in; he would never be able to wear them again anyhow. Plastic hangers snapped in his fury, fabric ripped and buttons popped flinging themselves across the room and all the while an unearthly scream rent the air muffling hurried footsteps on the stairs, raised voices in a panic and a shoulder banging against a door willing the lock to give out. The long rod devoid of shirts and jackets, only stray hooks and hangers adorning it, Kurt released his ire on the wall behind until strong hands clutched at his wrist. On instinct the powerful wings opened releasing him from the unseen danger trying to still his arms from behind. It wasn’t until the other rod crashed to the ground behind him bracketed by hurt moans, that Kurt realized what he had done. He turned around to see Finn sprawled on top of his shoes, pants draped over him and a bruise already forming on his forehead from the rod, staring at him in disbelief. Any lingering fight left him. “I’m… I’m sorry.” he said his voice hitching.

“Dude, what the hell?” Finn groaned.

Kurt looked behind him to see their parents standing in the doorway with twin looks of shock on their faces. “I just…” He didn’t know what to say, he looked between the three of them, wanting someone to understand. “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered.

His dad eased forward as if he was a wounded animal, Kurt bitterly thought that might be an apt description. “You’re not alone Kurt, not if you don’t let yourself be.”

“But no one understands…” he said, because they didn’t, they couldn’t, not really.

Burt cupped his face with rough work worn hands, “Then you have to make us understand. We want to understand and make this better for you. I just want you to be happy again.”

Kurt nodded, but didn’t offer anything to try and explain how he felt trapped by his body, but also trapped by his fears. He just didn’t have the strength to try, not tonight.

“Why don’t I help you clean this up?” Carole offered, a gentle hand on his arm as his dad helped Finn up off the floor.

“No, I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” he told her. Seeing her crestfallen face he went on to explain, “I think I just want to go to bed now… I just… I’m tired.”

He apologized again as they left his room, the door popping open once he tried to shut it with the now broken latch. Alone, he changed into a pair of pajama pants and crawled into bed. His phone lay discarded by his pillow, several missed calls and a text waiting for him. He wasn’t surprised to see they were all from Blaine. He thumbed through to the text and read,

Kurt stared at his phone for a moment fear and hope warring inside of him. Maybe he didn’t have to be alone;, maybe he could let Blaine in a little, his family too. If that was ever going to happen he would have to just start small, trust a little, confide. He made himself as comfortable as he could before typing out a reply.

Only seconds passed before his phone beeps again,

A small laugh escaped unbidden,







Kurt’s heart hammered in his chest at the words on his screen. He willed his mind not to run away with him. Blaine was just a good friend, nothing more. After bidding each other goodnight, Kurt let his exhaustion take over him and drift away from this confusing world he found himself in.

Kurt began talking more. That next day, he told Blaine that he had fought with his dad, a partial truth, but it was as close as he could get without touching closer to Kurt’s big secret. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t talk about what really made Kurt’s day so awful, because Kurt talked. He shared stories of his now mundane life. He skirted around his anxiety but didn’t hide it. For the first time in what felt like forever, Kurt felt free. He could feel a change coming over him, and it took him a while to see he was happy. It wasn’t the all- encompassing joy he dreamed of, but rather a contentment that he didn’t think he would ever feel again. It reminded him of the days before in the choir room; even with the unrelenting harassment in the halls, Kurt had felt like he belonged in that room. Kurt felt like he belonged connected to Blaine if only through the phone or computer.

New habits formed, instead of talking until the moment he absolutely had to go downstairs to prepare supper he continued to chat as he cooked. Kurt caught himself dancing around the kitchen, gesticulating with a spoon or knife or what ever he had in his free hand more than once. He only laughed at himself before delving back into the conversation. Even with this freer feeling, he always made sure he let Blaine go to dinner before his own family began arriving. The Hudson-Hummel household was one of  predictability and order. He knew what time Finn would amble in from practice. Carole always arrived at the same time as well. For his father, he never allowed his employees to close up shop, feeling it was his duty as boss and owner to open and close each day. Kurt knew just when to expect everyone, he depended on it.

Kurt was once in the kitchen, his phone lying on the counter to the side, as he chopped vegetables, dancing all the while to the music Blaine was playing for him drifting out through his speakers. He was focused on the song and Blaine’s quiet laughter so he didn’t hear the car crunching up the driveway outside. The song ended, he was enthusing with Blaine over the virtues of the song. He was too focused to hear the keys in the door or the quiet swear over Blaine’s voice.

“Isn’t Roxy music the best?. If I could I would build a time machine and go back to the ‘70’s and high five Bryan Ferry.”

“What’s going on Kurt?” the voice startled him out of a reply. Kurt spun around to see his dad staring at him as if he was something he had never seen before. Over the line Blaine was oblivious to Kurt’s shock and terror.

“Is that your dad Kurt? Hey Mr…. um hello sir.”

Burt Hummel furrowed his brow in confusion.

Kurt unstuck himself just enough to grab his phone, and say, “I have to go Blaine, I’ll talk to you later.”

He vaguely heard Blaine start to reply before he hit end and met his father’s eyes once more.

“What’s going on Kurt?” he asked once again.

Kurt could feel that vice grip once more around his heart. He tried to tell himself that it was just his father, his dad who loved him more than anything, that it would be okay; but it didn’t help. He could feel his breath leaving him in puffs but not able to pull enough back in. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the words choked him. Tears pricked in his eyes and he could feel his skin crawl and tingle as if thousands of bugs were crawling over his flesh.

Burt’s confused face morphed into one of concern and he rushed to Kurt’s side. “Breathe buddy, it’s okay. It’s just me. I need you to breathe.” Burt said as he grabbed Kurt by the shoulders acting as the anchor his son needed. Kurt tried to hold his dad’s gaze as he tried to match him breath for breath. It wasn’t working;, he could still feel the panic attack tearing all sanity away. He wanted to rip at his skin, he wanted to pull his hair, just to make it all stop. He wanted control back and the more he fought the more it was taken away.

“Kurt!” Burt finally yelled, and Kurt’s eyes snapped up meeting his again. “Breathe, I’ve got you, you are safe.” In that moment, without Kurt having to utter a word, Burt Hummel’s arms wrapped around his son’s shoulders. It was more tentative than ever before and not the instinctual way he once had, but it was a hug. His arms barely skimmed the wings, and the hold was limited to the small space above where they protruded out of Kurt’s bare back; but he was being held. And like the wind was being knocked out of him, Kurt let out a painful sob of relief at the touch. He clutched back at his father, holding desperately to him, in equal parts relief and terror. He knew he would have to talk to his dad, he knew he would have to tell the truth; but for the first time since the wings had begun to spring from his back he was being held and comforted by the one constant in Kurt’s life.

Burt only gave him until his breathing evened to a manageable pitch before pulling back enough to see Kurt’s face, though he did not release him from his hold. “I need you to talk to me Kurt. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

Kurt nodded as he tried to form words in the hurricane that was his mind. “I know, dad, and I’ll try… it’s just that…”

“What Kurt?” Burt urged.

“I just need you to hold me.” Kurt blurted.

His dad’s grip on him doubled and Kurt’s bones ached with the joy of it. “Oh Kurt,” Mr. Hummel sighed, “I haven’t done this lately have I, hug you?”

Kurt could only shake his head. “How long? Has it been that long?”

Kurt’s voice hitched as he said, “Since the day we knew what they were.”

“I haven’t made this any easier have I?” He asked.

“I just… I needed my dad, and you were there, you were always there… but I felt like I was dirty or unworthy or something, because you would never touch me. I… it was… why wouldn't you touch me?”

Kurt could feel a new wetness in his hair where his dad’s cheek pressed against it. His own tears, slid down his face faster knowing he had made his own father cry. “When they ran those tests, you said that it hurt. You yelled at them not to touch them… I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to touch you if it would cause you pain.”

“I was scared, I didn’t know what they were going to do I just wanted them to stop. I didn’t know what else to do. It doesn’t hurt to touch them. I hate them, but you don’t have to be afraid of them.”

They stood in the middle of the kitchen, just holding each other after that. Kurt wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but his breathing had eased and his tears had dried up when his father suggested he call Carol to pick something up for supper. “We need to talk Kurt,” he said when he made to protest. “This food will keep ‘til tomorrow, but you and I we need to really talk.”

Kurt went and washed his face while Burt called his wife and put up the half chopped veggies. Kurt took as much time as he dared, not really ready to answer the questions he knew his dad had. When he knew he could stall no longer, he braced himself and made his way to the living room.

Burt sat uneasily on the couch, his elbows were propped on his knees and his head was in his hands. Kurt sat gingerly down beside on the ottoman in front of him, bracing himself for the look his father would give him. He expected hurt, or anger or even disappointment, but his father’s eyes looked tired but supportive.

“Are you going to tell me what’s been going on? I’ve seen the changes in you, seen the way you have been more… more you, the old you. I know that you still have a lot on your plate. But… I just need you to explain to me.”

Kurt knew his father meant well, he knew he couldn’t understand that it wasn’t that things were better; they may never be better. He was managing. He knew though that his father could never understand if he didn’t tell him. “I was lonely.” he said, not knowing where else to start. His dad just nodded, clearly this not coming as a surprise. “Everyone… everyone was so busy, they had their own lives and things to do, and…” He paused, took a deep breath before continuing. “I just wanted someone to talk to, someone who didn’t know I guess. Someone who didn’t think I was a freak.”

“Hey, you aren’t a freak.” Burt cut him off. “Has anyone said anything, Puck, Finn?”

“No dad, no one had to say anything to me. I know I’m  a freak just look at me.” he said exasperated, spreading his arms wide as if his father couldn’t see the huge wings mirroring the action behind him. “I have freaking wings and no one can tell me exactly why; that is not normal!”

Burt shook his head as if Kurt were a particularly slow child. “Wasn’t it you who used to tell me that being different was what made you special, yay, you got freakin wings, but that don’t change who you are.”

Kurt could feel the tears welling, “But don’t you see dad, everything else I could hide I could choose to show people or not. I can’t just throw on a coat and cover these up, no matter how much I may want to.”

He nodded slowly, “Okay I can see that. But just for the record I don’t think you have anything you need to hide Kurt.”

Kurt decided to just let that point rest for a moment. “Anyway, I was lonely, none of my friends were around, and you and Carole were working, and Finn… and I understood I did, I do. I just wanted someone to talk to, so I signed up for a website.”

“Kurt…” Burt said in warning.

“I was safe,” Kurt assured, “as safe as you can get anyway. They check to make sure you are who you say you are. It’s was for gay teens, and they make sure that it is a safe place. I didn’t go there to hook up, obviously, I was just curious.”

“Is that where you met that Blake guy?”

Kurt was amazed that he got the name that close. “Blaine, and yeah. I didn’t… once I got accepted to the site, I chickened out, but later Blaine messaged me. He… we’re friends.”

“But how did that happen? I mean you hardly talk to me or your friends, so how did you two get on good enough terms that I find you laughing on the phone with him in the kitchen.” Before Kurt could speak, Burt quickly went to add, “Not that I mind, to be honest I don’t think I have been so happy as to see you laugh again Kurt. I just want to understand.”

Like a damn, Kurt told him everything, the progression from messages, to tentative calls and texts to long wonderful conversations. Kurt could feel himself smiling and didn’t shy away from them. When he didn’t think he could talk more he launched into all the feelings he’d been having since everything had begun. For the first time he really told his dad about the panic attack, the depression, his fear of ever leaving the house again, complicated by the fear of never leaving it. He didn’t notice Carole come home, or Finn; didn’t pay them any heed as they glanced in only to retreat seeing the scene before them. He let it all out barely stopping for a breath, not taking his eyes off his dad, but not letting the emotions on his face stop him from speaking. His words spent, he fell into the same position he had found his father in earlier.

A warm hand on his bare shoulder, made him lift his head once more. “Kurt I think you need to talk to someone, not just me, or this Blaine guy. I think what you are going through, what you are telling me, it’s more than either of us know how to handle.”

“I can’t go to a shrink,” Kurt said. His father must be crazy, to think that he could leave the house once a week to meet with some doctor to talk out his feelings. The thought of seeing someone knew, that was terrifying.

“We need to do something though, I can’t lose you Kurt, and I’m afraid if we don’t do something… I don’t want to regret not doing something before it’s too late.”

They let those words hang in the air between them, neither wanting to think further on what Burt meant, but not able to ignore the cold hard truth of it.

Later that night, Kurt sat on his bed, waiting for Blaine to pick up his phone. After only half a ring, Blaine’s voice filled his ear. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course.”

“You just, you hung up so quickly and I haven’t heard from you in hours… did I do something wrong?” Blaine asked his voice small.

Kurt was quick to reassure him, “No, you were wonderful. I just… I hadn’t told my dad about you, and… we got to talking… really talking, for the first time in forever. It was something we needed to do”

Blaine sighed in relief, “As long as everything is good.”

Kurt smiled at that, “I think things are going to be okay.”

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