With You I Am Free (a Kurt Hummel Big Bang Fic) pt3

[kurtswish]

The next morning when Kurt came down the stairs, he was surprised to find his father waiting for him at the table.



"Dad, what are you doing still home?" He asked as he made his way to the coffee pot, wanting to rid himself of the last vestiges of morning drowsiness.

For his part, Burt folded the paper he had been pretending to read while he waited for his son to wake. "I've been thinking, about what you told me last night," Kurt froze at the counter, afraid he would tell him to break off communication with Blaine. Now that he was determined to open up more with Blaine, to work toward maybe, eventually sharing the things he had been holding back, he didn't want to cut him out of his life anymore. Kurt turned slowly to his dad, the silence weighing around them, to see determination and concern clearly etched on his prematurely aged face. "I think you need more help than I can give you. I called Dr. Fitzhammond's office this morning. I told him how you have been feeling, and he agrees that medication can probably help, but he wants to hear from you first."

"Dad..." Kurt began. Drugs scared him, he had heard too many stories about people losing themselves, losing all range of emotions trying to end the cycle of depression. He didn't want that, even as many times as he wished for everything to end, he still wanted to feel.

"I know you Kurt, I know you're worried, and I was too at first; but Dr. Fitzhammond says that there are options out there to help you with the anxiety and they can start you on the lowest dose and see how you do. He says that drugs have come a long way in the last few years. I think we ought to try." Burt had such a hopeful expression on his face that Kurt couldn't do anything but agree.

He was dubious at first when Carole brought home the small white bag, but dutifully took his doses each morning. The change was small, nothing Kurt immediately noticed. His days still followed the same pattern, school work, talking to Blaine, chores, still never leaving the safety of his house. It wasn't until later when he was talking to his doctor again on the phone, answering questions, that Kurt realized he felt less on edge, less on the precipice of panic. The idea swirled around his mind all morning, school work lay abandoned to his thoughts. With a new determination Kurt stood up so abruptly his chair crashed to the ground. Without turning to pick it up, he hurried out his room, down the stairs and headed straight to the front door. Not giving himself a moment to think about what he was doing, Kurt flung the door open and stepped out onto the front lawn. The cold February breeze erupted goose flesh on his bare chest and on instinct his wings spread as it ruffled his feathers. Unmindful of his bare feet he stepped lightly into the melting snow. He fought the squint of his eyes, no longer familiar with the unfiltered light of day, trying to take in all of his surroundings at once. He spun in a slow circle, his wings fluttering, a smile on his face, and for the first time looked upon their yard without the barrier of a window in the full light of day. When they had moved, Kurt was insistent it be at night, and he only exited the car once the garage door had been shut behind them. He walked slowly around the house, his smile building at the even pace of his heart. He knew he was protected from prying eyes by the mass of trees and the high stone walls, he was safe.

He took account of the rest of his body. The cold sent shivers up and down his cold bare chest. His toes were numb from the icy ground and pinpricks of pain tingled in the joints. He could feel the wind rustle his feathers, acutely aware of each one. He had noticed it before, while showering or laying in bed. His feathers weren’t like the hairs on his head; he could feel each movement, each flutter. For the first time he didn’t resent that fact, but relished in the way his wings opened, testing the breeze.

Kurt didn't realize how late it was until his phone rang from its place in his pocket, sending his heart racing. He didn't have to look at the caller ID to know it was Blaine.

"I'm outside," he said in breathless greeting.

"Oh, do you need me to let you go?" Blaine asked, in obvious confusion.

"No, you don't understand. Blaine, I'm outside, I'm not in my house." His voice came out small in wonder, "I haven't been outside in over a year Blaine. It's been over two since I actually stood in the sun, when I haven't just been shuttled from one building to the other in the back of the car. " He could feel tears welling in his eyes and he didn't care. He wasn't sad, not really. He wished he could have had that time back, but that wasn't the cause for his tears. He felt... accomplished , like he was breaking himself out of a prison.

He was jolted out of his revelry by a quiet voice in his ear, "I didn't know it was so bad."

He couldn't help a joyful chuckle, it had been bad, but it was getting better. "I'll tell you about it, if you want." He wanted to tell Blaine, at least how it had begun, and that knowledge gave him a new resolve.

"As much as you want to tell me," Blaine answered.

"Alright," Kurt told him, "just let me get inside first, my feet are freezing. I really should have put my boots on first."

"Kurt, you'll get sick," Blaine reprimanded.

"It was worth it."


Once inside, his feet in warm fuzzy sock, a blanket haphazardly slung over his shoulders, a mug of steaming hot chocolate in one hand, his phone in the other Kurt finally told Blaine he was ready.

"School was never great for me. I mean I guess kindergarten was alright, but the older I got, the meaner my peers became. I had always heard that middle school was the worst, but high school... it was a nightmare. Things were still bearable before I joined glee, I mean I did start school every morning being thrown in a dumpster, but for the most part they left me alone once that was done. But then I joined glee club, and the football team, I guess they noticed me more."

"What did..." Blaine began to ask but trailed off.

"Slushies to the face mostly... but then junior year happened. There was this one guy, " Kurt could still not say his name, it was like he choked on it when he tried to spit it out. "I think he made it his mission to make me try and kill myself. Once he started it became unrelenting. He would shove me, call me every name you could think of, he... he even kissed me once. "

Kurt' s heart nearly broke at Blaine's compassionate, "oh, Kurt."

"That's when it got really, really bad. He threatened to kill me if I told and... any moment he saw me in the halls, he would do whatever he could to break me. I think the worst thing was when he would back me into a locker... And he wouldn't always say anything just... just run a finger down my chest or... lean in real close. Sometimes he would smell my neck. I couldn't move... I was just frozen there." Kurt stopped talking;, just telling Blaine about it brought back the feeling of helplessness that he had felt. He slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm himself, trying to keep the tears at bay; he was stronger than the memories, he told himself.

"Is that when you left?" Blaine asked eventually.

"No... I should have, I probably should have told my dad or someone, anyone then, but I was worried about how my dad would take it. He had had a heart attack earlier in the year, and I just, I couldn't risk his health. Um... One day after school, I was alone and he beat the shit out of me. I haven't been back to school since."

He wanted to go on and tell the rest of the story, tell him everything, but Kurt couldn't. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Blaine muttered, "thanks for telling me Kurt for trusting me."

"I'm on medication now," Kurt blurted, not sure why he felt he had to tell Blaine that.

"I was bullied before I came to Dalton, oh shit, I wasn't supposed to say that, but that's the name of my school. It's okay, I trust you... completely. Anyway, I had problems with anxiety and depression, my doctors said it was a form of PTSD from being beaten up. I was on medicine for almost a year before they started weaning me off. It' s okay Kurt, I understand. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

When Burt found out about  Kurt's newest adventure, he was more reticent in his praise than  Blaine. He was afraid to hope that Kurt would want to actually venture out in the world at large. He knew Kurt's fears and shared many of them. He was not blind to the speculations at just who the angel was, ; he had seen the hate as well. Not everyone thought a human with wings was a welcome addition to the world. Once again his son was being named an abomination by some. He had tried to shield Kurt from the greater part of this, but his son wasn't blind.

That isn't to say he had agreed with Kurt when he all but begged to shut himself off from the world. When Kurt was small his wife and he had tried not to just give into his every whim. They had wanted to raise a son who knew that the world wouldn’t always cater to him. Kurt was never a spoiled child, he knew how to work for what he wanted. But as his child sat in his basement room crying, almost screaming in desperation for them to find a somewhere where he could be safe; Burt couldn’t tell him no. He would have done anything in his power never to see Kurt in such a state again. They bought the house not just for Kurt’s safety, but Burt knew, also in a desperate attempt to not lose him forever.

Burt had gotten used to coming home to Kurt on the phone laughing and moving around the kitchen as he put the finishing touches on a meal. Since first finding Kurt in this position, only by luck and a dead battery in the garage door opener, it had become a normal occurrence. It had become so commonplace that one fateful Monday when he entered his quiet house a feeling of dread washed over him. In just over six weeks, what used to be the norm made ice run through his veins. The kitchen was empty and cold, no meal lay waiting on the stove, his heart quickened. He calmly tried the living room, then the whole downstairs. Coming up empty handed, his heart sped again until it was racing. Burt hurried upstairs, all was still quiet, the noiselessness eerie and disconcerting. He pushed open Kurt's door, long since fixed, without even the thought of a knock. He let out a sigh of relief at finding Kurt safe and unharmed staring at himself in the mirror over his vanity.

Kurt stood in the mirror lost in thought and the sight of his own body. He had removed the scarves that normally hid the glass with numb hands and without much thought. He took in his features. Before him was a body that, if his head wasn't attached to it, Kurt wouldn't know was his. It scarcely resembled the body he had grown accustom to over the years. His shoulders were broad, and his chest defined in a way it hadn't been two years ago. His pecs now bulged with muscles from the weight of the wings on his back. His stomach was flat, lean muscles stretched under pale skin. Gone was the softening left behind with the last vestiges of baby fat. His waist was trim and  his arms  well defined. Kurt couldn't rectify his memories with what stared back at him from the mirror. Never would his old self walk around shirtless; but that had become the norm after the wings had began to emerge.

After an age of just looking at himself, taking inventory of his body and the changes, he willed himself to take the next step. He spread his wings wide, unconscious of the audience that had just entered his room, he was so lost in himself. He couldn't see the wing tips in the mirror, only about two feet on each side was reflected back to him.  The white opalescent feathers caught the light and shimmered as he slowly moved them, tested them. A soft gasp from behind finally broke through his thoughts. He knew immediately that it was his father. He slowly lowered his wings and turned to the man.

"You okay bud?" Burt asked, his voice smaller than either had ever heard it. Seeing Kurt actually spread his wings on purpose had caught him by surprise.

"I don't know," answered Kurt in the same manner, looking at Burt like he was lost.

Mr. Hummel slowly approached his son, not sure if he would be receptive to the gesture. "You want to talk about it?"

Kurt was silent for a moment, trying to figure out his words and where to begin. He was in shock and quite frankly had no idea what to think in the moment. "Um... Blaine, he asked... um, he wants to see me. I mean, he said he wanted to put a face to the voice and asked... he wants to Skype."

He looked to his father with those lost eyes, and Burt barely resisted pulling him to himself. "Skype, that's that video chat thing right?" He asked trying to get Kurt to talk, unsure what Kurt needed at the moment but wanting to give it to him if he could.

"Yeah, and I don't know. I mean I'm not ready to tell him about this," he said raising his wings once more in emphasis. "But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to know what he looked like too, if I said I didn't wonder..."

Burt eyed his son closely before sitting on the bed and gesturing for Kurt to sit across from him. He waited until Kurt had arranged himself, his wings on either side of the stool in front of the vanity facing him. "You know I trust your judgment right? So whatever you decide to do, I am behind you one hundred percent. So talk to me."

"I just, I don't know what to do. I..." Kurt didn't know if he could tell his father all he was feeling. For months now, he had been talking to Blaine, getting to know him. The more he learned, the more he knew, the closer they had become. For months he had forced himself to ignore the flutter in his stomach, and the ache in his heart; only to have them intensify in the last month. He wasn't sure if it was the depression loosening it's its hold on him, or Blaine's understanding and empathy for everything he had shared. Blaine made him laugh, made him feel so much, and Kurt was terrified to look at what all of this might mean, or worse what he might have made up with his lonely confused heart.

"Tell me more about Blaine," his father prompted.

"He's the best. I've told you, he makes me laugh, he seems to understand, at least partially, what I'm going through." Kurt began slowly, rehashing things he had already told Burt in their more frequent talks. He took a deep breath and said, "hHe makes me feel connected and safe. I just... what if he doesn't feel the same, what if he can't handle the fact that I'm a freak?"

Burt leveled him with a stern gaze, "what have I told you Kurt; you are no freak.  And from everything you have told me about Blaine, he seems to really care. Now I don't know how you feel about him, or he about you, that is between the two of you, not that I don't want to hear about it, I just can't tell you that. Besides, he didn't run when you told him about the depression or the anxiety, so..."

"But having wings growing out of your back is different," Kurt cut him off.

Burt shook his head at his son, "I don't see that they are that much different. With both, your body decided to do something to work in a different way than most people. The only real difference is that you can kinda hide what you're feeling, you can take medicine to try and control that part of you, and you can't do that with your wings. But Kurt, your wings, they are beautiful and amazing; they set you apart, but they don't take anything away from you if you don't let them."

Kurt had tears in his eyes, he hadn't ever thought about his wings that way. To him they were never amazing or things of beauty, they were something that happened to him, not really a part of him. He had let them take so much away from him already; was he ready to lose something special because of them? "But I'm not ready to tell him yet," Kurt told his father. He knew he wasn't ready to tell his whole story;, he just couldn't face that yet, no matter how much he trusted Blaine now.

"Don't you have control over what Blaine sees through that thing," he asked pointing to the sleeping computer on the desk. He let Kurt think on that before adding, "if Blaine makes you feel connected and safe like you say he does; something that your friends and family couldn't even do for you; shouldn't you at least try and figure out a way to make it work?"

"Dad," Kurt began, obvious to the both of them he was going to protest his father' statement.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing Kurt, that he makes you feel that way. Hell, I'm grateful he could help you when none of us could. Why don't you think on it?, I'm going to see if Carole still has time to pick us up something before she gets home. Why don't you think about this some, okay?"

Kurt just had time to nod before Burt was out the door. He looked around his room for a moment, hoping it would have answers. Looking at the window he got inspiration. He rushed to his phone and quickly punched in a message.



A reply came quickly, though he knew Blaine must already be down at dinner.



Another text followed quickly.
Kurt stared at the name, feeling so much trust with it. That gave him new determination. He turned to his closet and began rifling through the clothes that hung there.

By the time Carole came home with Chinese food, Kurt had picked out what he was going to work with and had quickly sketched what he was going to do. He hurried through his meal, barely listening to the conversation around the table. His father kept shooting him looks, but never asked what he had decided. He was just about to rush back upstairs when Burt stopped him. “Don’t forget Bud, that tomorrow Carole and I are going out for Valentine’s day; so don’t worry about dinner for us.”

“Oh, right!” Finn added, “I won’t be home either, Rachel wants to go to some new Vegan place that opened up.” Kurt wanted to laugh at the disgruntled face Finn was making, but the date was finally hitting him. He pulled his phone out and texted Blaine again.



He nervously paced the floor waiting for a reply, not noticing the amused look on his father’s face. When his phone chimed, he held his breath.



Kurt couldn’t help the shy giggle that erupted out of him and ran towards the stairs. Only as his foot hit the third step did he remember that he needed some help.

“Hey Finn, could you get my sewing stuff down from the attic? I would but I won’t fit.” he said indicating to the wings on his back.

If Finn was surprised by the request he didn’t show it, he just asked where it was before going to help.

It had been so long since Kurt had created anything with his machine, he missed it. However, there were only so many pairs of pants you could make and only so much altering that could be done to them. It wasn’t like anyone really saw him anyways, only his family and occasionally members of the glee club. The longer he stayed at home though, the less frequent their visits became. Most of them were finishing their senior years; busy with college applications and the competition season.

When Finn set the box down in his room, he quickly set up the machine on his desk, before taking a seam ripper to a shirt and vest. He worked deconstruction the clothes until his fingers ached with the now unfamiliar movements. By the time they lay in pieces over the desk, the rest of the house was asleep.

The next day Kurt spent hours reworking the fabric to fit his frame and accommodate his wings.  When the shirt was finished most of the back was gone, and it now slipped over his head, then tied at the waist. From the front, it simply looked like a standard button up, but the changes meant that Kurt could actually put it on. With the vest he was more adventurous, transforming it completely. He added zipper embellishments and ties  over the front, while making it snap behind his neck and lower back. He stood in front of the mirror once again, taking in his new clothes. From the front you could not see his bare back peeking through; it was perfect.

Kurt looked at the clock and realized he only had an hour to perfect the second, and really most important part of the plan. He quickly turned his desk around, his chair now sitting in front of the window. He The back had been removed from the chair long ago, it only getting in the way when Kurt tried to use it. Kurt grabbed the end of the heavy black curtain, bought to keep out the sun in the hopes that Kurt would sleep longer after a night of insomnia. He ran them through the machine attaching Velcro as he went. .  As quickly as he could he whipped the other side to the bottom of the chair. He did the same where the curtains met in the middle Once that was done, he sat in the chair and powered up his laptop. As he waited for the computer to boot, he slipped his wings through the gap in the curtains before hooking the Velcro together by feel.

Kurt sat staring at his image staring back at him from his webcam. For the first time in two years, he could look at himself without the wings distracting him. He looked just like any other teenage boy, if better dressed than most. Looking at himself, he felt like he could be normal again.

Glancing down he saw the time. 3:58. He grabbed his phone and texted his email address to Blaine with only a smiley face to accompany it. In moments his computer was ringing; with a deep breath he hit accept.

After a second of distorted images, the picture on his monitor became clear. Sitting in a chair, his black hair slicked down, a neat uniform showing on his shoulders, sat Blaine. Kurt could feel a smile, a genuine smile bloom on his face. “Why hello there Blaine D. Anderson.” he said taking in all of Blaine’s features at once.

He was handsome;, reminiscent of movie stars of old; but what got to Kurt the most was his eyes crinkle in mirth and his beautiful smile.

Blaine laughed, and it was a sound that Kurt knew well after so many months. Hearing that familiar noise coming out of the face before him, made everything seem suddenly real in a way it hadn’t before. Blaine was a real person, he was whole and probably flawed, but that made him even more perfect to Kurt because it made him real.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sounding as if he was coming to the same revelation that Kurt was. He laughed again and the sound sent Kurt’s heart thrumming pleasantly. “You have me at a distinct disadvantage sir, you now know my last name, but I am still at a loss for yours.” He would have looked stern or upset if not for the crinkles still playing around his eyes.

“Well, I guess that is what you get for sending me your school address.” Kurt told him playfully. Blaine’s laughter in answer loosened the last nerves from Kurt. “Hummel,” he said when Blaine was smiling again at him, “My name is Kurt Hummel.”

“Well, it is nice to finally be able to put a face and full name to you.” Blaine said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Kurt breathed, feeling his heart pitter patter.

After that, they talked like they had almost every afternoon, but being able to see each other, to see the reactions instantaneously, made the whole thing so much better. Occasionally Kurt would glance at the little window showing his picture back at him to make sure his wings were still covered, but for the most part he just talked, taking in Blaine as he did. If Blaine thought it odd that Kurt had curtains behind him, he neither said anything nor did his face show it. Hours later, when Kurt closed the lid on his laptop, he couldn’t control his grin to himself. Not only had he actually let Blaine see him, if not in his entirety, but it had been as if nothing had changed.

He wanted to relish this small victory, so he ignored all the feelings seeing Blaine had brought up. He determinedly focused on the interactions, and not what they made him feel like. He wasn’t ready to burst his own bubble with the harshness that reality would bring. Not tonight anyway.  He did let himself replay they way Blaine whispered ‘Happy Valentine’s day Kurt,” just before they disconnected. He let those words play over and over in his mind the rest of the night.

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