Sep 09, 2011 22:33
CHAPTER 3. Back to school
The next morning, after a night of intermittent sleep plagued with nightmares and reviving himself with massive amounts of caffeine, Blaine stumbled to his locker way too early, only to fall into the waiting arms of his boyfriend.
“Kurt. You’re early.” The relief he felt to be in a presence of someone who accepted him, loved him, was overwhelming.
“So are you. I couldn’t wait to see you, what’s your excuse?”
“I had to get out of the house, I was suffocating there.”
“Your parents…?”
“They think I’m exaggerating and I should just withdraw the report and forget it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Oh my Gaga, it is worse than I thought.”
“I know. Me too.”
“What about therapy, did you talk to them about that?”
“Not yet. But it may be a problem. My father basically told me I’m on my own in this.”
“But Blaine, you need this!”
“I know. I’ll talk to them as soon as I’m sure I won’t just scream.”
They spent some time together before the classes began - time that let Blaine gather some strength. The day wasn’t going to be easy. Either this one, or any of the following.
Blaine knew returning to school would be a challenge. He expected to feel exposed in a large group of people. He knew it would be hard to avoid touch and sudden noises. He tried to prepare. But he never anticipated just how difficult it would all be.
Suddenly he couldn’t focus. He sat in class, his thoughts drifting away from the lesson as soon as he allowed himself the slightest distraction. It was not even that he flashed back - he’d known it would happen sometimes, but no, mostly he just found himself thinking about something, anything. Or nothing at all. True, there were moments when the assault came back to him, forcing him into panic mode. Once, he had to dash for the nearest bathroom after he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke through an open window where some of the boys hid to smoke sometimes. He took care never to go that way anymore. Then he almost flunked a History test because Ben, the guy sitting in front of him, looked very much like Eric from behind, especially when he turned his head just-so, and he needed twenty minutes to force this image out of his head, slow down his breathing and focus on the paper. There were dozens of little things like that - the way people high-fived him, like they always did, but suddenly it was not the same innocent gesture. The way everyone wanted to talk to him when all he tried to do was focus on keeping it all together. Once, when Wes came up to him, unnoticed, and patted his back from behind, Blaine almost punched him. But mostly, he was just distracted all the time, overwhelmed by the number of stimuli around him, things he couldn’t control.
And Blaine was used to being in control. He’d always worn a kind of a mask in Dalton to appear more composed, prim and proper than he really was, but it was not a problem, because it wasn’t out of character for him. He looked at it just as a simple enhancement of certain qualities he possessed that were valued at his school. The façade was easily kept during school hours, loosened in Warblers’ meetings and let go of as soon as he went home or met with friends outside school.
Except now keeping up the confident, smiling image became a full-time job, and a strenuous one. Blaine knew he had to pretend that nothing happened. He couldn’t bear telling everyone what he became. Not many people were as tolerant and accepting as the Hummels. And he was Blaine Anderson, one of Dalton’s best, the lead soloist and popular student. He couldn’t just break down and withdraw into himself, even if it was about the only thing he wanted to do now. He had responsibilities. But with so much energy required to just keep up the façade, the rest was crumbling around him. Within a week, his grades took a sharp decline and the teachers, one by one, started looking at him disapprovingly. At the Warblers’ practice, where he’d always been happiest, where it had been easy to lose himself in music and fully express himself through it, he just couldn’t give it his all anymore. It was a huge responsibility to lead the group, and right now he just wanted someone else to take his hand and lead him, show him what he needed to do and how, help him back to himself, to normal. He tried, so hard, for over a week. After all, he couldn’t disappoint them all, and right before Regionals. But finally, as much as he hated himself for it, he had to admit defeat. It was just too big a risk that he would crash before the competition or, even worse, in the middle of it. It was a responsible thing to do. He would sing in the background for now. Or maybe resign completely, and let someone else take his place, someone more worthy.
When he went to Wes to talk about it, he could see concern in his friend’s brown eyes, but didn’t explain his decision. He just said that he was tired and needed a break. He let himself be dissuaded from resigning, but insisted on taking as small a role as possible for the time being. Having one less thing on his shoulders helped, but not as much as he hoped. He was still coming apart at the seams. Damn, if he could only get himself together at last!
***
Kurt was spending as much time with his boyfriend as he could - they made it a habit to come to school early just so that they could have half an hour for themselves before classes to sit in a secluded corner, hold hands and talk. It seemed to help Blaine steel himself for the day, as much as possible. After school they went for coffee or drove to Kurt’s house and worked on their homework together. He was worried though. Blaine tried not to show it, but he was steadily getting worse. The circles under his eyes kept getting darker, his temper was shorter than ever and he got lost in thoughts more and more often, his eyes blank. He never smiled anymore and hardly ate anything if Kurt didn’t nag him, claiming to have no appetite. After a week of classes it was already evident that if nothing changes - and soon - he’s going to have trouble at school. Kurt hated the fact that he could do nothing about it - the only people who could change anything were Blaine’s parents, and they didn’t seem to be willing to work on their attitude anytime soon.
Wes approached Kurt halfway through the second week, as he was walking to class after lunch break. Blaine had already gone in the opposite direction, to his English classroom.
“Kurt, can we talk?”
The countertenor glanced at his watch. “Sure, but I’ve got French in five minutes, so walk with me. What’s up?”
Wes hesitated. “It’s about Blaine. I know you two are… dating?”
Kurt blushed. “Yes, we kind of are. Why? Is dating among the Warblers frowned upon?”
“No, not at all. In fact, most of us are happy you two finally stopped dancing around each other and got a move on.”
“Oh. So what’s the problem then?”
“It’s just… I figured you’d be the only one who may know: what’s going on with Blaine? He came back after the break with this bruise on his face and he said it was an accident, but… He’s changed - he’s silent, distracted. His singing is different, too. It’s like… I don’t know, like he lost the spark, haven’t you noticed? And yesterday he came and told me he couldn’t sing a solo for Regionals. He even wanted to resign altogether. It’s completely unlike him. I can see there’s something wrong with him. We all can and we’re really worried. Please, do you know anything? Maybe we can help somehow?”
The younger boy bit his lip, undecided. Blaine really could use a stronger support system right now. Sure, he had Kurt and the rest of the Hummel-Hudson family, but other than that, he never confided in anyone else. And Kurt couldn’t be there all the time, they had some classes separately, there were long periods every day when Blaine was basically alone among people, jumping at every louder noise, flinching whenever anyone brushed against him in passing. The constant stress was affecting him badly, he was already fraying at the edges, and as much as Kurt wanted to protect and soothe him, he was just one person. He knew that Warblers were like family. They took care of their own, closed their ranks around their wounded. He witnessed it just last month, when Kevin’s dad was in a hospital after a really bad accident. All the Warblers were there for the boy, discreetly taking care of him in small ways - there was always someone to talk to if he wanted, people helped him with his homework, made sure he ate, gave him rides to the hospital, talked to the teachers to lighten his work load for the time being. Blaine could use all that now, but…
“Wes, it’s really not my secret to tell, I’m sorry. You’re right, something is wrong and it’s bad. I’m sure you guys could help, but I’m just not at liberty to tell you.”
The older boy looked at him long and hard, and Kurt hoped he understood the unspoken plea in his eyes, Please, try to reach out to him, he needs it. It was all he could do. Finally, Wes nodded once, his face serious.
“I understand. Thank you. And since we’re talking, I may as well tell you - you get a solo for Regionals. It will be officially announced at the Warblers’ meeting, of course, but…”
“Me? Solo? For Regionals?” Kurt’s jaw almost hits the floor.
“Yes. You were our second choice after the auditions and since Blaine withdrew… We’ll have to find a song to make the best use of your range of voice, of course. I’m sure it will be something else. So, see you at the rehearsal.” And with a wave of his hand, Wes vanished around the corner.
Kurt stood there, blinking. He finally had his chance. But he couldn’t help thinking it would feel so much better if it wasn’t because of Blaine being too broken to perform.
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In the next chapter: Interventions
angst,
hurt/comfort,
learning to breathe again,
nc-17