'I've Got To Go, It's Starting To Rain' Part Two
Part Two
Kurt’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, picking out shapes in the gloom. He had been awake for about an hour, mildly nauseous and with a deep ache in his side. Slowly his memories returned and his hand flew to his hip, and feeling under the baggy shirt he found a line of raised stitches a couple of inches long. He retched violently, choking on sobs that he’d been holding back since he’d regained consciousness.
"Kuuurt!" The Man’s voice came out of nowhere and Kurt shrieked, scrabbling back into a corner.
"Oh, come on, don’t be scared." There was a crackling sound whenever The Man spoke, like his voice was coming through a speaker. Kurt relaxed slightly as he realised it was just that- he was speaking to him from outside of the room.
"I’m not scared, you just made me jump," he growled, wobbling to his feet. His side ached in protest.
"I hope you’re not moving around too much down there," The Man warned, "those stitches are good, but you must do as the doctor said…"
"You took me to a doctor?" Kurt asked, trying to dredge up fuzzy memories, but not finding any.
"Oh, please," The Man sniffed, "what d’you think I am, crazy? I am a doctor."
"What are you going to do to me?" Kurt said quietly, throat becoming painfully dry as he remembered news reports and newspaper articles about kids who’d been kidnapped.
"Kurt, you’re my pet. I’m going to look after you down there. What did you think I would do? I’m not sick, you know." There was a click as the speaker switched off and Kurt stared up at the ceiling incredulously.
"You could have fooled me."
Assuming that The Man was feeding him three times a day, Kurt had been down in what he’d decided was a basement for five days. He’d gone through the terrified phase in the first couple of days, then moved swiftly on through angry, despairing and defiance. Now, he was just bored.
Ignoring the painful tugging in his side he felt his way over to the door and rattled the handle half-heartedly. It was becoming a routine, check the door, shout, pace. He thought he’d go mad if he did this much longer.
* * * *
Day 360
Crash.
Daylight flooded in.
Kurt sat up, blinking at the figure in the doorway.
"Finn?"
"I’m here. I’m taking you home. I love you."
Day 361
Bang.
The Man’s body crumpled and Finn stepped over him. He scooped Kurt up in his arms.
Day 362
Kurt woke up.
"Hey." Mercedes smiled down at him. "It’ okay, Finn got you out. You’re safe now."
Day 363
Kurt ran his hands over the piano keys and smirked as he felt Finn’s lips brush the back of his neck.
Day 364
Kurt clung to Finn and decided that he would never let go.
"It’s lucky you didn’t get here any later, or I’d have been here for a year."
365
Maybe he’d miscounted?
366
"What are you doing? Let me go!"
Thump. Thud.
"Hello?" Kurt stared into the darkness.
"Who’s there? Why am I in here?" Someone replied, sounding confused and familiar.
"Finn?"
"Kurt, you’re here?"
"Did he get you too?" Kurt’s hand found Finn’s.
"Yeah. But I’m glad I know where you are now."
367
"We’re so pleased to have you back, Kurt. I think you should have this solo."
Finn’s proud smile lit up the room.
368
"Finn?" Do you mind if I keep the light on tonight?"
"Of course I don’t mind. I love you"
* * * *
Day 730
The Man forgot to feed him for the first time.
Day 1095
Kurt wondered if he was still alive.
Day 1825
Five years. Half a decade.
"Sorry I took so long." Finn whispered.
Day 2188
In two days he would have been in the basement for six years. Or at least, he thought he would. Kurt wasn’t always sure what was real anymore.
Routine time. Kurt didn’t do the shouting part anymore, but he still paced. He needed to get his exercise to keep his weight down, or coach Sylvester would kick him out of the Cheerios for sure.
Check the door. Kurt knew every inch of his prison now and didn’t need to feel his way around anymore. He found the handle, twisted.
Click.
That was new. Kurt’s heart started pounding, something new.
The door swung open.
Kurt stared at where he knew the door was, felt it carefully. Yes, it was definitely open. He crept back to his corner and curled up, thinking hard. The door was open. Why?
In his imagination, he walked out of the door and into sunlight. It was warm on his skin. Finn was waiting for him and they ran, escaping The Man together.
Kurt uncurled cautiously and walked back over to the door. His fingers danced along the edge, feeling cold, heavy metal. He could smell fresh air. He stepped forward and tripped as his feet met concrete stairs and froze, waiting for a moment before moving forward on his hands and knees like a child, crawling up. At what he assumed was the top he found another door. This one was older, made of wood that let tiny trickles of light through, making Kurt’s eyes ache. When he touched it, he could feel that the wood was rotten and slimy, so he gave a weak push and it fell away.
Summer sunlight flooded in and Kurt’s eyes burned.
He stumbled out, feeling grass under his bare feet, clutching at his face. The light pierced his eyes like a thousand hot needles, he couldn’t see, couldn’t think past the pain.
The Man. The Man could see, would see him escaping. Kurt tried to run, but he crashed into something that clattered and clanged loudly when he knocked it over. He lurched the other way and tried again, this time miraculously finding a path that had fewer such obstacles.
He kept running, sobbing as the pain in his eyes increased, tears running down his face. Suddenly the ground vanished beneath him and he dropped, falling, hitting things. His head collided with a rock, making a sharp cracking noise that-
Part IV
There was a small thump, then the sound of cascading magazines. Finn groaned sleepily, forcing his eyes open and reluctantly pulling himself into a sort-of-upright position.
"Kurt?" Kurt was fumbling around the room, confused and blinking rapidly. Finn, suddenly feeling far more awake at the sight of his friend, climbed out of bed and made his way carefully across the cluttered floor.
"Hey, slow down." He put a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.
Kurt stopped, looking in Finn’s direction. "I-I can’t see you." He sounded lost.
Finn put a hand under his chin and tilted his head up and a little to the left. "There. Looking right at me." He smiled.
"You’re smiling." Kurt said quietly. "I can hear it."
"Where were you?"
"I don’t want to talk about it." Kurt was blinking fast again and Finn realised that he was trying to clear his eyes.
"Kurt, you were gone for six years-"
"Exactly six. Yesterday. I counted." His hand wandered across Finn’s chest from shoulder to shoulder.
"And you turned up on my doorstep at six years and three hours. I counted too. That’s my point- You were gone. No one knew where you were, I didn’t know, your dad didn’t know-"
"Don’t tell him." Kurt said suddenly, flinching at the mention of his father. "Don’t tell him I’m back."
"Why not?" Finn knew that he shouldn’t be angry, or at least, not with Kurt, but frustration was overwhelming his rational thoughts. "When you went, Kurt it was like he went too. He was so distant. He shut down the shop and just stopped…"
Kurt turned, twisting away and felt for the bed before dropping onto it. "I-I’m sorry," he whispered. "Sorry. Sorry…" He didn’t seem to know what to say and Finn felt a lurch of guilt in his stomach. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault.
"It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you." He sank down on the bed with a sigh.
"A basement. I-in Lima." Kurt’s voice was so quiet that Finn almost missed it.
"Lima? You…all along you were there…"
"I really don’t want to talk about it." Kurt said, his voice muffled by the bedcovers. Finn swallowed and nodded. He wouldn’t talk about it, but he was worried he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Kurt, alone, underground and somewhere that he could have- probably had- walked right past. What if it was one of the houses he’d called at with the missing posters?
"Excuse me Sir, have you seen this boy?"
"No, sorry, Son." He shuts his door, then goes downstairs into the cold and damp to do-
Finn froze up at the thought. What had he done to Kurt?
But he couldn’t ask, and instead just lied down next to him, stroking his hair like his mom had done when he was ill as a child. He hoped Kurt liked it.
"I just want everything to go back to normal," Kurt said quietly.
"Then, I think we should go to a doctor about your eyes." Finn suggested carefully, remembering Kurt’s distaste for hospitals and expecting a refusal from the smaller man.
"They do hurt.” Kurt admitted.
"Right. ER it is." Finn sat up and Kurt struggled upright beside him.
"I need clothes." Kurt announced and for the first time, Finn felt a flicker of hope that they might eventually have something that resembled normality.
"Right, well, you’ll have to borrow something of mine, so I’ll just get-"
"No, no no no. You won’t ‘just get something,’ Finn. I do not wear ‘just got.'" Kurt shuffled to look in Finn’s general direction. "Tell me colours. I would ask for brands, but I don’t think you have any worth requesting, unless your tastes have miraculously improved." Finn couldn’t help but grin. A small smile graced Kurt’s lips for a moment.
"Okay, uhm…I have a blue shirt, a red one…"
"Wait, wait. What type of red?"
"Uhh…dark?"
Kurt groaned, presumably, Finn thought, at his lack of precise colour names.
"Give it to me?" Kurt reached out a hand in the wrong direction.
"Here." Finn handed him the shirt and watched with some amusement as Kurt felt the material, felt around the edges to work out the size and finally sniffed it.
"Well, at least it’s clean," he said with a small sigh. He paused suddenly, cheeks flushing red.
"Kurt, are you okay?" Finn rushed to his side.
"I’m not…not wearing pants," Kurt mumbled, "or underwear."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. You were asleep and…yeah." They were both blushing now and Finn quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants. "Sorry, I know you hate them but there’s no way my jeans would fit you." Kurt nodded in agreement, face still red.
Finn turned away until he’d dressed, thoughts flying in his head like a whirlwind. He’d always thought that if Kurt hadn’t disappeared, something would have eventually happened between them. Kurt had liked him and he, eventually, had liked Kurt. But now…Who knew what Kurt had been through? What had happened while he was down in that cellar? So, Finn would be a good no-longer-almost-stepbrother, and nothing more.
"Use the eye drops for the next few days, wear sunglasses and take the painkillers if you need them," the doctor instructed, hurrying them out the door. "Your eyes will be fine, Mr. Hummel. Give it a week. Maybe two."
"He couldn’t wait to get rid of you," Finn said with a small smile. Kurt clung to his arm, the other hand following the wall as they made their way through the hospital corridors and out into the parking lot. "I’m not really surprised, after the way you behaved in there." Finn teased gently, and Kurt stuck out his tongue childishly, earning a glare from a woman parking her car.
"Kurt, I’m over here." Finn chuckled.
"I’ve just humiliated myself by unintentionally insulting someone, haven’t I?"
"Yup. If looks could kill…" Finn opened the car door and went straight to the glove compartment.
"Here you are, sunglasses." He put them on gently, hooking the arms over Kurt’s ears and almost-accidentally letting his thumb brush his cheek. "There."
"Thank you."
Finn helped him into the car.
"I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll drop you back at my place first, yeah? The doctor said you need to stay in a dark room…"
"Okay." Kurt’s voice was a little quiet.
"You sure you’ll be alright? It’s just that, although Figgins will employ anyone, I don’t want to be taking the day off on my second day."
"Sure, I’ll be fine." His voice was still quiet. Finn had been getting used to seeing him smile and talk normally and the sudden change was making him feel…uneasy. But if Kurt gripped his arm a little tighter on the way up to his apartment, he didn’t say anything.
A/N: Sorry for the short chapters, but LJ doesn't seem to let me put more than 3000 words in a post these days...
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