Fic: When Fears Are Realized (5/?)
Title: When Fears Are Realized (5/?)
Characters / Pairings: Vague Kurt/Blaine. Burt, Carole, Finn.
Rating: R (to be safe)
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for 2.15
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Summary: Burt's worried and Kurt doesn't understand why. Then Blaine shows up on their doorstep.
A/N: I should have the next chapter of Taking the Time done tomorrow. I'm so sorry for the delay on that, it just doesn't want to cooperate with me right now.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Carson Anderson didn’t hate Yale. That didn’t mean that she liked it either. She honestly didn’t care where she’d ended up at, she just knew that she wanted to get out of Ohio and away from the crap that was her home life.
‘And with good reason,’ she thinks. ‘If this is the way they’re going to treat us.’
Haphazardly throwing some clothes into a suitcase, she grabs her cell phone from where she’d thrown it and runs out of her dorm room and through the hallways until she’s outside. She quickly finds her car and tears out of her parking spot, heading towards the interstate and home.
Last night had been carefree and fun. Filled with friends and food and alcohol and Carson felt sick when she thought about how she’d been laughing and drinking while her brother was waiting in limbo for god knows what to happen to him.
Blaine. He didn’t deserve any of the shit he’d been put through. She couldn’t help but picture him as the nervous 12 year-old who’d come into her room one night, face drenched in tears, and crawled into bed with her. She was 16, and fiercely independent, but could never say no to her baby brother. That night had been long, and she thought back to the moments when they’d grown so much closer.
“Lollipop?” Carson asked, turning over to see her little brother shuffling his feet awkwardly beside her bed. He had one hand fisted in his pajama bottoms, keeping them up and allowing him to walk without tripping and the other was out in front of him, silently asking her permission to climb in.
She lifted the covers wordlessly, and he squeezed in next to her, wrapping his think arms around her torso and burying his head in her chest. She felt him shaking as he tried to hold back his sobs and she held him close to her, carding her fingers through his soft curls.
“What’s up, Lollipop?”
“Don’t call me that,” he murmured into her shirt. As much as he complained about the nickname, she knew he loved it.
“Why not? That’s all I ever see.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
He huffed, hot breath seeping through the think cotton and into her skin. She giggled, burying her face in his hair and breathing in his shampoo.
“You gonna tell me why you’re crying?” she asked.
“Dad won’t stop talking about girls.”
“And this is reason for a meltdown?”
“No, Carson. I just... I don’t want to talk about girls.” Carson frowned. She’d thought for a while that Blaine was different, but hearing him almost confirm it made her pause. Was he?
“So talk about boys,” she said, voice soft.
He tensed, shoulders shaking and breath coming in short gasps and she closed her eyes as he spluttered for an answer.
“Blaine.”
“Car... Carson, I can’t do this.” He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t talk about giving up and letting things be because he was just a kid and kids don’t talk like that.
“Blaine, look at me.” It had taken him a minute to compose himself and then he was pulling away and wiping at his face and blinking up at her, rosy cheeks and red rimmed eyes and glistening tears. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He nodded, lips trembling.
“Then you know that I will love you whether you like girls, boys, or Mr. Chamber’s cat from next door.”
“Carson, don’t be gross.” The shared a quiet laugh.
“But seriously,” she said, quietly. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
He curled back into her and she let him lay quietly, his even breathing soothing her into a light doze. She started when he spoke again.
“I don’t really like Carly,” he said, referring to the most popular girl in his class. “But her brother Josh is kind of cute.” With that the tears began anew, and she pulled him as close to her as she could, clinging to his innocence when he was shoving it away. She soothed him, running a flat palm up and down his back as he sobbed into her.
“It’s going to be hard, Blaine. So hard to be you.”
Blinking harshly, Carson looked out at the traffic in front of her, letting the memory fade into the back of her mind. They’d fallen asleep soon after that, and when he’d come home the next week with a bruise on his cheek and tears in his eyes, she’d let him curl up on her lap and watch Disney movies.
She hadn’t been there when he’d told their parents, but their conversation that night had been a myriad of tears and anger and him feeling like his whole world had come crashing down around him. She ached for him, wanting to be touch him and hold him and comfort him and cursed the eleven hours that separated her from her brother.
And then this morning, she’d checked her voicemail to hear the drunken slur of her father telling her that the freak was gone. That he’d taken care of the problem and they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Thinking the worst, she’d dialed Blaine’s number and was met with his voicemail, which sent her into a frenzy and she dialed any number she had for someone who might have had contact with Blaine.
Wes was the one to set her fears aside, slurring a tired greeting into his phone before telling her that Blaine was fine and staying with Kurt and his family in Lima. She’d let him go and started packing, only to be startled by the sharp ring of her cell phone, and she glances at the screen before letting her bluetooth take over and answering it.
“Hello?”
“Carson? This is Cora from Jameson and Taylor.”
“Hi, Cora. Is something wrong?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip. She’d known Cora for many years, but knew that hearing from their law firm was never a good thing.
“For you, no. For your brother, yes.”
“What about Blaine?”
“Your father filed for removal of parental rights yesterday. We’ve called your mother, but she informed us that “whatever Bradley wanted to do was fine with her.” Now, since you are his next of kin we’re informing you that if you are willing you have the option of obtaining those rights.”
“What does that mean? He has to live with me?” Co-habitation in dorm room is strictly forbidden, she’d have to look for an apartment.
“Not necessarily. You would have complete control over any medical concerns and be solely responsible for him until he reaches the legal age of 18.”
“Cora..”
“Carson, you don’t have to give us an answer right away. You should know, however, that if you decide to pass on this that we’ll be forced to put him into the foster system.”
“Cora, there is no way I’m letting him end up there. Of course I’ll take him, but I need to see him and talk to him first, okay? Can I call you back when I’ve done that.”
“Of course you can. You have a week before the state takes over his case.”
“I won’t need that long.”
They’d said their goodbyes after that and Carson had made her way from the school shortly after. Which is why she’s now speeding down the interstate, traveling the 12 hours between New Haven and Lima and silently wishing for her baby brother to just be okay.
She’s exhausted by the time she reaches Ohio, and she pulls into the nearest Starbucks to grab some food and caffeine before continuing on. She takes the time to call her professors and counselor, letting them know that she’s had a family emergency and that she was needed back in Ohio. They’re all very understanding once she explains, and while she doesn’t go into details, she knows she’ll have no problems when she gets back to classes.
When she’s back on the road the trip passes in a haze of cities, Akron and Mansfield and Upper Sandusky until she finally sees signs for Lima. Not long after that she’s once again calling Wes and asking for an address to plug into her GPS and then she’s there, climbing from her car and staring up at a large, two story home on the outskirts of Lima, OH.
Breathing deeply, she walks up the steps onto the porch and reaches out a hand to knock on the door. There’s muffled voices coming from inside, and she closes her eyes and tries to pick out the one she desperately wants to hear.
“Can I help you?” She hadn’t noticed the door open and pries her eyes open to stare into warm green eyes. The woman standing at the door is middle aged and staring at her curiously. She must make a sight with her frizzy hair and sunken eyes, but she can’t bring herself to care.
“Hi. My name is Carson Anderson. Is my brother still here?” She leans against the porch railing, exhaustion filling her body as the woman stares at her.
“Your broth... ? Blaine? Yes. Yes, he’s here. Come on inside.”
“Thank you.” Pulling her body up takes away the last of her energy and she stumbles through the doorway, but the woman places a steadying hand on her arm and she regathers herself.
“My name is Carole. It’s nice to meet you, even if the circumstances are less than desired.” She turns suddenly, alarmed. “You did hear about..”
Carson interrupts Carole, telling her that yes, she did hear, and yes, she is angry at her father. Carole just nods, leading her further into the house and up the stairs. She pauses outside of a mostly closed door, opening it a little and peeking inside.
“He developed a bit of a cold a couple days ago, but he’s mostly gotten over it. He’s sleeping now, though, if you’d like to go on in.”
“Thank you, Carole. If you don’t mind, I may sleep a bit as well. I just drove 12 hours and I’m exhausted. I promise, I’ll explain when I wake up.”
“Of course. That’s just fine, dear. You go on in with your brother.”
Carson stares at her for a minute, then unexpectedly throws her arms around Carole in a tight hug. Carole jumps a bit, but hugs her back just as tightly.
“Thank you,” Carson whispers in her ear. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Carole shushes her and pushes the door open a little wider. She guides her to the bed and watches as she crawls in next to Blaine, pulling him to her and wrapping her arms around him. He snuggles into the sudden warmth, body melting into the familiar embrace of his sister. She smiles and closes the door completely, leaving the siblings alone and going back downstairs to wait on Burt.
She doesn’t have to wait long before he comes through the door, boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor.
“Hey, Carole,” he says, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek as he makes his way into the kitchen. “Do you know whose car that is outside?”
“Sure do,” she says, flicking through a magazine. He looks at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Blaine’s sister is here. We seem to be collecting Andersons.”
Part Six
Characters / Pairings: Vague Kurt/Blaine. Burt, Carole, Finn.
Rating: R (to be safe)
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for 2.15
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Summary: Burt's worried and Kurt doesn't understand why. Then Blaine shows up on their doorstep.
A/N: I should have the next chapter of Taking the Time done tomorrow. I'm so sorry for the delay on that, it just doesn't want to cooperate with me right now.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Carson Anderson didn’t hate Yale. That didn’t mean that she liked it either. She honestly didn’t care where she’d ended up at, she just knew that she wanted to get out of Ohio and away from the crap that was her home life.
‘And with good reason,’ she thinks. ‘If this is the way they’re going to treat us.’
Haphazardly throwing some clothes into a suitcase, she grabs her cell phone from where she’d thrown it and runs out of her dorm room and through the hallways until she’s outside. She quickly finds her car and tears out of her parking spot, heading towards the interstate and home.
Last night had been carefree and fun. Filled with friends and food and alcohol and Carson felt sick when she thought about how she’d been laughing and drinking while her brother was waiting in limbo for god knows what to happen to him.
Blaine. He didn’t deserve any of the shit he’d been put through. She couldn’t help but picture him as the nervous 12 year-old who’d come into her room one night, face drenched in tears, and crawled into bed with her. She was 16, and fiercely independent, but could never say no to her baby brother. That night had been long, and she thought back to the moments when they’d grown so much closer.
“Lollipop?” Carson asked, turning over to see her little brother shuffling his feet awkwardly beside her bed. He had one hand fisted in his pajama bottoms, keeping them up and allowing him to walk without tripping and the other was out in front of him, silently asking her permission to climb in.
She lifted the covers wordlessly, and he squeezed in next to her, wrapping his think arms around her torso and burying his head in her chest. She felt him shaking as he tried to hold back his sobs and she held him close to her, carding her fingers through his soft curls.
“What’s up, Lollipop?”
“Don’t call me that,” he murmured into her shirt. As much as he complained about the nickname, she knew he loved it.
“Why not? That’s all I ever see.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
He huffed, hot breath seeping through the think cotton and into her skin. She giggled, burying her face in his hair and breathing in his shampoo.
“You gonna tell me why you’re crying?” she asked.
“Dad won’t stop talking about girls.”
“And this is reason for a meltdown?”
“No, Carson. I just... I don’t want to talk about girls.” Carson frowned. She’d thought for a while that Blaine was different, but hearing him almost confirm it made her pause. Was he?
“So talk about boys,” she said, voice soft.
He tensed, shoulders shaking and breath coming in short gasps and she closed her eyes as he spluttered for an answer.
“Blaine.”
“Car... Carson, I can’t do this.” He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t talk about giving up and letting things be because he was just a kid and kids don’t talk like that.
“Blaine, look at me.” It had taken him a minute to compose himself and then he was pulling away and wiping at his face and blinking up at her, rosy cheeks and red rimmed eyes and glistening tears. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He nodded, lips trembling.
“Then you know that I will love you whether you like girls, boys, or Mr. Chamber’s cat from next door.”
“Carson, don’t be gross.” The shared a quiet laugh.
“But seriously,” she said, quietly. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
He curled back into her and she let him lay quietly, his even breathing soothing her into a light doze. She started when he spoke again.
“I don’t really like Carly,” he said, referring to the most popular girl in his class. “But her brother Josh is kind of cute.” With that the tears began anew, and she pulled him as close to her as she could, clinging to his innocence when he was shoving it away. She soothed him, running a flat palm up and down his back as he sobbed into her.
“It’s going to be hard, Blaine. So hard to be you.”
Blinking harshly, Carson looked out at the traffic in front of her, letting the memory fade into the back of her mind. They’d fallen asleep soon after that, and when he’d come home the next week with a bruise on his cheek and tears in his eyes, she’d let him curl up on her lap and watch Disney movies.
She hadn’t been there when he’d told their parents, but their conversation that night had been a myriad of tears and anger and him feeling like his whole world had come crashing down around him. She ached for him, wanting to be touch him and hold him and comfort him and cursed the eleven hours that separated her from her brother.
And then this morning, she’d checked her voicemail to hear the drunken slur of her father telling her that the freak was gone. That he’d taken care of the problem and they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Thinking the worst, she’d dialed Blaine’s number and was met with his voicemail, which sent her into a frenzy and she dialed any number she had for someone who might have had contact with Blaine.
Wes was the one to set her fears aside, slurring a tired greeting into his phone before telling her that Blaine was fine and staying with Kurt and his family in Lima. She’d let him go and started packing, only to be startled by the sharp ring of her cell phone, and she glances at the screen before letting her bluetooth take over and answering it.
“Hello?”
“Carson? This is Cora from Jameson and Taylor.”
“Hi, Cora. Is something wrong?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip. She’d known Cora for many years, but knew that hearing from their law firm was never a good thing.
“For you, no. For your brother, yes.”
“What about Blaine?”
“Your father filed for removal of parental rights yesterday. We’ve called your mother, but she informed us that “whatever Bradley wanted to do was fine with her.” Now, since you are his next of kin we’re informing you that if you are willing you have the option of obtaining those rights.”
“What does that mean? He has to live with me?” Co-habitation in dorm room is strictly forbidden, she’d have to look for an apartment.
“Not necessarily. You would have complete control over any medical concerns and be solely responsible for him until he reaches the legal age of 18.”
“Cora..”
“Carson, you don’t have to give us an answer right away. You should know, however, that if you decide to pass on this that we’ll be forced to put him into the foster system.”
“Cora, there is no way I’m letting him end up there. Of course I’ll take him, but I need to see him and talk to him first, okay? Can I call you back when I’ve done that.”
“Of course you can. You have a week before the state takes over his case.”
“I won’t need that long.”
They’d said their goodbyes after that and Carson had made her way from the school shortly after. Which is why she’s now speeding down the interstate, traveling the 12 hours between New Haven and Lima and silently wishing for her baby brother to just be okay.
She’s exhausted by the time she reaches Ohio, and she pulls into the nearest Starbucks to grab some food and caffeine before continuing on. She takes the time to call her professors and counselor, letting them know that she’s had a family emergency and that she was needed back in Ohio. They’re all very understanding once she explains, and while she doesn’t go into details, she knows she’ll have no problems when she gets back to classes.
When she’s back on the road the trip passes in a haze of cities, Akron and Mansfield and Upper Sandusky until she finally sees signs for Lima. Not long after that she’s once again calling Wes and asking for an address to plug into her GPS and then she’s there, climbing from her car and staring up at a large, two story home on the outskirts of Lima, OH.
Breathing deeply, she walks up the steps onto the porch and reaches out a hand to knock on the door. There’s muffled voices coming from inside, and she closes her eyes and tries to pick out the one she desperately wants to hear.
“Can I help you?” She hadn’t noticed the door open and pries her eyes open to stare into warm green eyes. The woman standing at the door is middle aged and staring at her curiously. She must make a sight with her frizzy hair and sunken eyes, but she can’t bring herself to care.
“Hi. My name is Carson Anderson. Is my brother still here?” She leans against the porch railing, exhaustion filling her body as the woman stares at her.
“Your broth... ? Blaine? Yes. Yes, he’s here. Come on inside.”
“Thank you.” Pulling her body up takes away the last of her energy and she stumbles through the doorway, but the woman places a steadying hand on her arm and she regathers herself.
“My name is Carole. It’s nice to meet you, even if the circumstances are less than desired.” She turns suddenly, alarmed. “You did hear about..”
Carson interrupts Carole, telling her that yes, she did hear, and yes, she is angry at her father. Carole just nods, leading her further into the house and up the stairs. She pauses outside of a mostly closed door, opening it a little and peeking inside.
“He developed a bit of a cold a couple days ago, but he’s mostly gotten over it. He’s sleeping now, though, if you’d like to go on in.”
“Thank you, Carole. If you don’t mind, I may sleep a bit as well. I just drove 12 hours and I’m exhausted. I promise, I’ll explain when I wake up.”
“Of course. That’s just fine, dear. You go on in with your brother.”
Carson stares at her for a minute, then unexpectedly throws her arms around Carole in a tight hug. Carole jumps a bit, but hugs her back just as tightly.
“Thank you,” Carson whispers in her ear. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Carole shushes her and pushes the door open a little wider. She guides her to the bed and watches as she crawls in next to Blaine, pulling him to her and wrapping her arms around him. He snuggles into the sudden warmth, body melting into the familiar embrace of his sister. She smiles and closes the door completely, leaving the siblings alone and going back downstairs to wait on Burt.
She doesn’t have to wait long before he comes through the door, boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor.
“Hey, Carole,” he says, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek as he makes his way into the kitchen. “Do you know whose car that is outside?”
“Sure do,” she says, flicking through a magazine. He looks at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Blaine’s sister is here. We seem to be collecting Andersons.”
Part Six