Xра́брость (Courage) Pt 3/(?)
Title: Xра́брость (Courage)
Rating: PG-13
Status: Pt 3/(?)
Author Notes: I take Citalopram, so I'm simply repeating what my doctor was telling me. Also, what is mentioned at the end of the story, I've done as well. Most of this is from past experience, minus what happened to Mika.
Kurt was slightly intimidated, and to put it bluntly, creepily aroused. He had never seen Blaine so…wild? Unkempt? Emotional? All of the above? He was playing something thumping and electronic, something that seemed to be blocking out whatever he was thinking, or matching his frantic features, whichever worked. Kurt grabbed the iPod, and looked to see "Daft Punk - Rollin' & Scratchin'" flash on the screen. Kurt decided to scroll through his music, taking this moment to learn some more about Blaine while it was still allowed. Band names that he had heard of in passing from Tina showed up: Einsturzende Neubauten, Nine Inch Nails, ohGr, and some more electronic stuff, mainly deadmau5 and a conglomerate of something called "dubstep." What the…here was a boy who had sung Katy Perry to him. Here was someone who wore hot pink sunglasses and loved the Marion Cotillard Vogue cover. And he listened to this stuff?
Blaine looked over, realizing that maybe Kurt isn't scared. Maybe things could work. All of a sudden Kurt changed the iPod. Ah nice, at least he's willing to give ohGr a try. Wes and David wouldn't even humor me. "maJik" by ohGr came on, and the bass in the car started rattling, making Kurt slightly skittish. "Now, I'm used to Mother Monster doing some weird shit in her music, but this is strange even for me, Blaine. What's up with this?"
Blaine shrugged. "Oh, it's ohGr, a side band off of Skinny Puppy-" Blaine looked over at Kurt, and realized that Kurt was looking at him like he was speaking another language. As soon as that thought ran through his head, there was Mika. Mika, beautiful angles and an infectious laugh and chestnut eyes that still managed to glisten with stars. His straight brown hair that would just graze his eyelashes, those lips…
"No, Blaine. What's up. Why are you all of a sudden playing music that would come out of a Hot Topic circa 1999, when you are this pop-loving, dignified person at Dalton. You're not a schizo, right? Like, you're not going to murder me and chop me into bits and leave me in capital cities of different states?"
Blaine looked over at Kurt, now giving him the look of what the actual fuck did you just say. "Kurt. I'm not a psycho…well, at least not to most people."
"Blaine, dear, that's not exactly a convincing argument for you."
Blaine sighed, and looked back at the highway. Two more exits.
---
Kurt continued in the car ride in silence, wanting to text Mercedes so badly about this situation, but not even knowing where to start. He knew she would yell at him for going through his things, and he knew he deserved it, but just…ugh, why does he always get the complicated ones?
Blaine was almost shaking, Kurt could see his hands trembling on the wheel as he started to go over to the exit leading to Columbus. What had happened back in Columbus that had affected Blaine like this? Was it his old school, that he mentioned in passing to console Kurt about his own drama at McKinley?
Blaine, after 20 minutes of maneuvering streets that he hadn't seen in ages, pulled into a cemetery. Oh great, not only did I get the basket case, but he has a fetish for death. Awesome. Way to go Kurt. You're just 2 for 2 tonight, huh.
Kurt grew silent as Blaine stopped the car and looked over to one tombstone. A simple grey stone with the Russian Orthodox cross engraved in the top, but the words, he couldn't make out. Blaine looked over at Kurt, sadness starting to creep out of those hazel eyes that usually held back laughter. "Kurt, meet Mika."
---
Mika. Who the hell was Mika to Blaine, to make him feel this way?
Kurt sat in silence, unaware of what to say or do, except listen.
---
"Mika was my first, well, everything. His full name was actually Mikhail Pyotr Korolev, but he told me to call him Mika. He was a sophomore when I was a freshman, and he was a foreign exchange student from Rostov-na-Dony, Russia. He taught me a lot, and he is the reason why I came to Dalton.
"Mikhail was very open about his sexuality, and I was still newly out of the closet. Mika guided me, let me know that it was ok to be who I was, and I think that's why I fell in love with him. He was the only one who really accepted that I was gay. I watched how Mika got teased for being Russian, how his accent sometimes made things hard to understand, and as you and I both know, kids are cruel. That's not why it got so bad. It was because he was my boyfriend.
"It was a week or so after I had lost my virginity. Mika and I were in one of the piano rooms at the school, practicing a piece for class the next day, when all of a sudden, these kids just appeared out of nowhere. One of them had a knife. They threatened me, and Mika stood up for me, protecting me. They turned on him, beat him within an inch of his life, and one…asshole, tried to put a Chelsea Grin on him. I was so upset that I was sick. I don't remember what happened after that, or why I was 'spared,' if you could call it that, but I know that my throat was raw, that I was screaming, and someone was trying to calm me, but all I could see was Mika, laying there, bleeding. Next thing I know, I was at the hospital, next to him, listening to the machines beeping, trying to keep him alive in vain. He was brain dead. The assholes kept kicking him in the head enough that there was no way he would get out of that. His foster parents, of sorts, had to pull the plug because his grandmother wouldn't acknowledge him for being gay. And it was all my fault."
---
Kurt watched as Blaine broke down, crying to the point of ugly tears, hiccuping through his words, trying so hard to let Kurt know why he was like this. Kurt pulled out a package of tissues from his jacket pocket and handed them to Blaine. A few sniffles later, Blaine looked up, eyes puffy and face red.
"Baby…why didn't you tell me this before hand?"
Blaine blinked. He just called me baby. "Because…I wasn't sure if my therapist would want me to."
Therapist. He has a therapist. Then, those Citalopram…
"Kurt, I've had depression for 3 years now. Citalopram is the generic of Celexa, which is an anti-anxiety and anti-depressant. Seeing Mika beaten to an inch of his life gave me nightmares, anxiety attacks, and well, things that stereotypically go with depression." Blaine was rolling up his sleeve.
Oh god no, please no, please do not have there what I am thinking you have there.
Scars. Not a lot, but a few that were obviously not going to leave with time.
Rating: PG-13
Status: Pt 3/(?)
Author Notes: I take Citalopram, so I'm simply repeating what my doctor was telling me. Also, what is mentioned at the end of the story, I've done as well. Most of this is from past experience, minus what happened to Mika.
Kurt was slightly intimidated, and to put it bluntly, creepily aroused. He had never seen Blaine so…wild? Unkempt? Emotional? All of the above? He was playing something thumping and electronic, something that seemed to be blocking out whatever he was thinking, or matching his frantic features, whichever worked. Kurt grabbed the iPod, and looked to see "Daft Punk - Rollin' & Scratchin'" flash on the screen. Kurt decided to scroll through his music, taking this moment to learn some more about Blaine while it was still allowed. Band names that he had heard of in passing from Tina showed up: Einsturzende Neubauten, Nine Inch Nails, ohGr, and some more electronic stuff, mainly deadmau5 and a conglomerate of something called "dubstep." What the…here was a boy who had sung Katy Perry to him. Here was someone who wore hot pink sunglasses and loved the Marion Cotillard Vogue cover. And he listened to this stuff?
Blaine looked over, realizing that maybe Kurt isn't scared. Maybe things could work. All of a sudden Kurt changed the iPod. Ah nice, at least he's willing to give ohGr a try. Wes and David wouldn't even humor me. "maJik" by ohGr came on, and the bass in the car started rattling, making Kurt slightly skittish. "Now, I'm used to Mother Monster doing some weird shit in her music, but this is strange even for me, Blaine. What's up with this?"
Blaine shrugged. "Oh, it's ohGr, a side band off of Skinny Puppy-" Blaine looked over at Kurt, and realized that Kurt was looking at him like he was speaking another language. As soon as that thought ran through his head, there was Mika. Mika, beautiful angles and an infectious laugh and chestnut eyes that still managed to glisten with stars. His straight brown hair that would just graze his eyelashes, those lips…
"No, Blaine. What's up. Why are you all of a sudden playing music that would come out of a Hot Topic circa 1999, when you are this pop-loving, dignified person at Dalton. You're not a schizo, right? Like, you're not going to murder me and chop me into bits and leave me in capital cities of different states?"
Blaine looked over at Kurt, now giving him the look of what the actual fuck did you just say. "Kurt. I'm not a psycho…well, at least not to most people."
"Blaine, dear, that's not exactly a convincing argument for you."
Blaine sighed, and looked back at the highway. Two more exits.
---
Kurt continued in the car ride in silence, wanting to text Mercedes so badly about this situation, but not even knowing where to start. He knew she would yell at him for going through his things, and he knew he deserved it, but just…ugh, why does he always get the complicated ones?
Blaine was almost shaking, Kurt could see his hands trembling on the wheel as he started to go over to the exit leading to Columbus. What had happened back in Columbus that had affected Blaine like this? Was it his old school, that he mentioned in passing to console Kurt about his own drama at McKinley?
Blaine, after 20 minutes of maneuvering streets that he hadn't seen in ages, pulled into a cemetery. Oh great, not only did I get the basket case, but he has a fetish for death. Awesome. Way to go Kurt. You're just 2 for 2 tonight, huh.
Kurt grew silent as Blaine stopped the car and looked over to one tombstone. A simple grey stone with the Russian Orthodox cross engraved in the top, but the words, he couldn't make out. Blaine looked over at Kurt, sadness starting to creep out of those hazel eyes that usually held back laughter. "Kurt, meet Mika."
---
Mika. Who the hell was Mika to Blaine, to make him feel this way?
Kurt sat in silence, unaware of what to say or do, except listen.
---
"Mika was my first, well, everything. His full name was actually Mikhail Pyotr Korolev, but he told me to call him Mika. He was a sophomore when I was a freshman, and he was a foreign exchange student from Rostov-na-Dony, Russia. He taught me a lot, and he is the reason why I came to Dalton.
"Mikhail was very open about his sexuality, and I was still newly out of the closet. Mika guided me, let me know that it was ok to be who I was, and I think that's why I fell in love with him. He was the only one who really accepted that I was gay. I watched how Mika got teased for being Russian, how his accent sometimes made things hard to understand, and as you and I both know, kids are cruel. That's not why it got so bad. It was because he was my boyfriend.
"It was a week or so after I had lost my virginity. Mika and I were in one of the piano rooms at the school, practicing a piece for class the next day, when all of a sudden, these kids just appeared out of nowhere. One of them had a knife. They threatened me, and Mika stood up for me, protecting me. They turned on him, beat him within an inch of his life, and one…asshole, tried to put a Chelsea Grin on him. I was so upset that I was sick. I don't remember what happened after that, or why I was 'spared,' if you could call it that, but I know that my throat was raw, that I was screaming, and someone was trying to calm me, but all I could see was Mika, laying there, bleeding. Next thing I know, I was at the hospital, next to him, listening to the machines beeping, trying to keep him alive in vain. He was brain dead. The assholes kept kicking him in the head enough that there was no way he would get out of that. His foster parents, of sorts, had to pull the plug because his grandmother wouldn't acknowledge him for being gay. And it was all my fault."
---
Kurt watched as Blaine broke down, crying to the point of ugly tears, hiccuping through his words, trying so hard to let Kurt know why he was like this. Kurt pulled out a package of tissues from his jacket pocket and handed them to Blaine. A few sniffles later, Blaine looked up, eyes puffy and face red.
"Baby…why didn't you tell me this before hand?"
Blaine blinked. He just called me baby. "Because…I wasn't sure if my therapist would want me to."
Therapist. He has a therapist. Then, those Citalopram…
"Kurt, I've had depression for 3 years now. Citalopram is the generic of Celexa, which is an anti-anxiety and anti-depressant. Seeing Mika beaten to an inch of his life gave me nightmares, anxiety attacks, and well, things that stereotypically go with depression." Blaine was rolling up his sleeve.
Oh god no, please no, please do not have there what I am thinking you have there.
Scars. Not a lot, but a few that were obviously not going to leave with time.