Fulfilled 1/??
Response to this prompt:: in an alternate universe where slavery is perfectly normal, kurt who is opposed to the idea of owning another person walks by a slave market and sees a trader about to kill a boy his age (blaine), because he is too sick (nothing permanent, maybe pneumonia or something) and too bruised (from his past owner) and generally in ( Read more... )
"Wow. He looks really bad."
"You should have seen him before," Kurt answered, but gently.
"Somebody really cut him up."
Kurt reminded himself that Finn was probably processing things rather than trying to make observations, so he kept all the possible sarcastic replies unspoken. Finn took down a bowl for cereal but stared into it as though he was trying to read something in the bottom.
"No wonder Rachel helped you buy him." Still holding the empty bowl, he sat down at the table, looking up at Kurt, who poured himself coffee and sat down next to him.
"It's like...if anybody did that to your or me, I mean, they'd go to jail, probably everybody we know would want to beat them up, but because he's a slave, it's okay."
Kurt nodded. "That's how it is, all right."
"You know, Mom always said it was wrong and I got it, but it's like, say, the difference between knowing genocide is wrong and watching that movie with Forrest Whittaker."
"Last King of Scotland?"
"Yeah, that one."
"I don't know what to say to him, you know what I mean? Sucks that somebody didn't feed you? Sorry that somebody went all slasher movie on your face?"
"Well, for what it's worth, I think what you said was fine."
Finn got up and grabbed his brother from behind in a strangling hug.
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Burt didn't like his recent train of thoughts at all. Carole deserved to know. But then the less she knew the safer she'd be. Unless not knowing anything at all would put her in more danger. But, and he had to admit this consideration played a bigger role than he'd have liked, what if it meant that he lost her? He could have, barely, been able to stand losing her when it looked like Finn couldn't accept Kurt's being gay. But Kurt is his son and a man's children are his first responsibility. To lose Carole, who had brought so much warmth and laughter and passion back into his life? Then he wondered if he could really say that he loved Carole, if he was willing to hide this from her for his own sake, not hers. But what if he was wrong about his judgment of her, that she was a good and kind woman through and through? On the other hand, she might find out anyway, and better now than before he got any deeper into it.
Just as he made his mind up to tell her, Kurt came in, looking troubled.
"What's wrong?"
Kurt sighed. "I'm starting to feel guilty about keeping things from Finn. He's my brother, dammit, I should be able to tell him things."
Burt chuckled ruefully. "Great minds think alike. I was thinking about telling Carole."
"Are you serious?"
"I think I am. If I'm going to ask her to marry me, I've got to be honest with her."
Kurt's eyes widened and his hands flew up to his cheeks. "Did you just say 'marry?'"
Burt hadn't felt that sheepish in years. "Did I really say that?"
"You did and you can't get out of it now! Dad, this is so great!" Kurt was grinning all over his face. "You have GOT to let me help pick out the ring."
"I wouldn't dare," Burt laughed, feeling lighter than he had since Kurt first admitted that he'd bought a slave. He'd been more worried than he thought about Kurt's reaction, but here the kid looked as excited as if he'd just gotten a proposal himself. But once the relief ebbed away, it also left a new certainty in its place; he had to tell Carole.
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"How've my men been?" she asked after kissing Burt and giving Finn and Kurt quick hugs. "Anything destroyed? Any apologies to make to the neighbors?"
The three looked at one another and her eyes narrowed. "There's something you're not telling me and don't try to look innocent."
"Maybe I'd better get you settled with a beer," Burt intervened hastily.
"That's the only delay you're allowed." When Burt came back, she looked at Kurt and said, "For once, you're looking the guiltiest."
"I...I bought a slave," he started, and rushed to finish at her aghast look. "It was just to save his life, the dealer was going to kill him."
"Oh, Kurt..." She looked so distraught that Burt sat down next to her and grabbed her hand.
"Dad and I took him to the doctor, he'll be okay but it will take a long time."
"Where is he? Who is he?"
Burt answered that one. "He has a broken foot so we made the office into a bedroom for him. Carole, he's just a kid, our kids' age. His name is Blaine."
"He's so hurt and scared," Kurt said in a tiny voice and Burt could see the tears start to well in his eyes. Carole swallowed hard.
"Sweetheart, there's something I've got to tell you. You, too, Finn." Burt wanted to get it over with, one way or the other. "Let's go outside." He paused and added, "I want this to be just family time, so leave the cell phones here, okay?" Finn and Carole looked puzzled, but she shrugged, "Mine's in my purse," and Finn fished his out of his pocket and dropped it on the table. Kurt silently put his next to it.
Once outdoors, Burt felt all of his planned words disappear. He looked helplessly at Kurt, who gave him an equally helpless look. Not that he expectedh his kid to do the hard work here, but still, he could at least have looked like this was going to be easy.
"Uh, Carole? You know how Kurt and I talk about playing poker sometimes? Uh, we don't really play poker. Kurt and I, you see, well..." His look at Kurt was more of an SOS this time.
"We're part of a group that-"
"That helps to get slaves and wanted slave freers onto the Ohio River and out to the St. Lawrence," Burt finished rapidly. He was so determined to get the words out that he realized he sounded almost as precise as Kurt.
Carole and Finn both stared at them, slack-jawed. "Please, say something," Kurt pleaded, looking at both of them beseechingly.
"What...how..." Carole looked entirely lost.
"It was...it was Elizabeth who got me started. It meant so much to her. We nearly gave it up when Kurt was born, the stakes got so much higher then, but...we decided that we had to keep going, and then when she died, I nearly gave it up, but had to keep going for her sake. To keep doing this and keep taking care of Kurt."
Kurt smiled, shakily. "I found out when I hid in the back of Dad's car. I didn't know where he was going all those nights and got very nosy."
"He scared me to death when he popped up in the back seat in the way back. I asked him how much he'd seen and heard and he said, 'Precisely everything.'"
Carole laughed a little. "I can just see that. I don't know what to say, but...I am so proud of you both."
"You're, like, so much cooler than I thought!" Finn exclaimed. "You're like kind of badass!"
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As she thought about it, she wasn't even that surprised any more that they were helping to smuggle slave freers out to independent states. Once Burt committed himself to something, he was in it all the way. It was a bit harder for her to understand Kurt, but there was a lot of anger churning under his haughty exterior. This was another way that he could hit back at a society that wanted him to hide who he is.
She had to face her own reactions, though. She loved Burt beyond any kind of reason or sense. It wasn't only the teens that saw the entire world and half themselves swirl and dissolve into one other person when they fell in love. The idea that he was risking his life and freedom felt like somebody had slipped a knife between her ribs, aimed at her heart.
She could lose Burt to this. She knew that if she walked out now, she'd recover, some day. But if she stayed, and let love deepen and entangle itself into every part of her life even more than now, and then he were killed or caught, could she endure that?
She realized that her tea was room temperature now, but picked it up and drank it anyway. She just couldn't decide. She went over to the sink and rinsed her cut, looking outside to see Finn and Kurt and Burt still talking. Finn positively seemed to be glowing with excitement. The implications hadn't hit him yet, but she knew she had to be there for him when they did.
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More later, I've just got to run now!
Hey, OP, if you're reading, is it okay that this is turning into a Hudmel family story? There'll be much more Blaine next chapter and more bonding between Kurt and Blaine, too.
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She went into the living room and saw a dark-haired boy go into the office. "Hello, I'm-" She broke off at the immediately alarmed look on his face as he turned as quickly as he could to face her. Kurt and Burt had both warned her that he was still terrified, but somehow she'd thought it must mean only that he was jumpy or shy. "I'm Carole," she continued, warmly. "I'm Finn's mother."
He remained standing, looking at the floor. She couldn't see more of his bandaged face, but could see the casts on his foot and hand and the splinted fingers on the other hand. "Were you going back to bed?" she asked. "Do you need a hand with anything?" His confusion and hesitation were breaking her heart, especially when she saw that he momentarily looked at her and then away, as if he was afraid of making eye contact.
Well, Finn had gotten in more than enough childhood injuries for her to know how to help him physically. She pulled the sheet and blankets part way from the bed. "There, if you sit down, you can get your leg back up and then we can get you covered again." He did as instructed and she carefully tucked the covers over him.
"I'll bring you some tea, sweetheart, just a minute. Do you want sugar or milk?" He didn't answer, and she decided that given how underweight he looked, she'd put in both. She plugged in the electric kettle and made enough for two cups.
"Here you go, but be careful, it's hot." She cleared a corner of the desk near the bed and put both mugs there. He cautiously reached for the one nearest him, the one with the very wide, large handle that she thought would be easiest. "Do you want me to help you with that?" She had to stop asking questions, she told herself, holding the mug for him until he'd drunk enough that it was lighter.
He started coughing and she realized that there weren't any tissues in the room. "I hate to say it, but I will anyway. Men! I'll get you some tissues and a wastebasket." She retrieved them from the bathroom and pulled several tissues from the box to hand to him.
"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed as another coughing spate was so strong that it seemed too much for his frail body. "My poor baby," she murmured, smoothing the hair from his face. He still hadn't said a word to her, she realized. She adjusted the pillows behind him. "There, if you want to sit up, that will be more comfortable. Some more tea? That can't have made your throat feel good." He seemed to be letting down his guard a little and when she saw him steal another cautious glance at her, she smiled encouragingly. She helped him finish the tea and then she put an arm around him while lowering the pillows again so he could lie down.
"I'll stay here a little until you're asleep." She touched his hair lightly and as his breathing became heavier, she found an unhurt spot on his forehead to kiss. "Sleep well, sweetheart, you're safe here."
She got up after a few minutes and left. Burt was in the living room and without a word, held her tightly. "That poor boy, Burt. We'll never let anybody hurt him again."
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And then I read it, and now I'm convinced that in 3 weeks he'll be calling her mom, or at least thinking it. Go Carole!! \0/
Still loving this, and the whole world you're creating for the story. Keep it up!
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I'm getting so invested in this story. Fantastic job. Can't wait to read more!
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Tuesday night, though, the conversations were strained. They had agreed that Blaine didn't need to know about Burt and Kurt's “poker games,” but not being able to speak about tomorrow made everything awkward. Kurt could sense Carole's and Finn's worry and he also sensed something else from Finn that day, something that almost seemed like resentment, but Finn hadn't said anything, just shot both him and his father the occasional sullen and hurt look.
He hadn't had a chance to get Finn alone to ask him what was going on. Finn had football practice, he had come home right after school, and by the time Finn was back, Carole was already home and they were making dinner together. He'd even tried to catch Finn alone but Finn had avoided all of Kurt's probably unsubtle attempts to talk one on one. After they had finished eating, Burt gave Blaine the evening's dose of medications and gently shooed him back to bed, since the pain killers made him so drowsy.
Kurt volunteered himself and Finn to clear the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher. Once in the kitchen, he cornered his older brother, put his hand on his hips, and demanded to know what was wrong.
“I don't know, Kurt, why don't you tell me what's wrong with me?”
“What?”
“So you and Burt are going off tomorrow to help get slaves free and you don't even ask me?”
“Finn-”
“I said that I was going to be a real brother to you and keep you safe, remember?”
“So you're mad that Dad and I aren't asking you to put yourself in danger? Finn Hudson, that's very sweet and very disturbing.”
“Don't make a joke out of it. I know you think that I'm stupid but I still should get to help you.”
“Finn, look, it's not that anybody thinks you're stupid,” Kurt sighed, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down.
Finn pulled out the chair opposite. “So what is it, then?”
“It's your mom. If anything happens to Dad or me, or both of us, that's two people gone from her life. If anything happens to you...Finn, do you even know what happens to somebody who violates the Property Amendment?”
“You go to jail, right?”
Kurt shook his head. “Lethal force is legal, so anybody catching you, police or not, can kill you for it. If you're arrested and convicted, you get sold yourself.”
“No way.” Finn was immediately indignant. “They can do that?” He thought about it a moment and then added, “So that means that you and Burt could end up slaves? Why do you do it, then?”
“Because of Mom. She was politically well-connected, her family was really rich, and she was starting to get seriously involved in the opposition to the Amendment. Then she met Dad, and they got married. I was their little surprise, she didn't think that she could have children. She got out of politics for a while because I was premature and needed a lot of care for a while. She was worried about the death threats she'd gotten before, too, she was scared that something might happen to me, or that Dad would be left alone with an infant. She started getting back into it when I got older, the death threats picked up again, and then the car accident...the police said it was an accident, but...” Kurt swallowed. “It got personal for Dad after that, as the saying goes. And for me, too, once I asked him the same question you did.”
Finn sat quietly digesting all of this. “So that explains why your dad got so mad when you bought Blaine.”
“Yeah, handing money to the industry that probably killed my mom, but...” Kurt sighed. “Now you see why we didn't ask you to join us tomorrow.”
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He tried all of his usual methods of falling asleep, including deconstructing the knitting in Rachel's latest animal sweaters, which was usually the killer app for sleep, but nothing worked. He gave up and went upstairs for some warm milk. He hadn't heard Blaine coughing for a while so he crept up as quietly as he could, using his flashlight to avoid turning on a light and waking the other boy. He heard a tiny rustling noise in the kitchen and instinctively swung the flashlight to illuminate that corner of the kitchen. Blaine was crouching near the door, one hand in the wastebasket, and some scraps of leftover food in his lap. He looked up and froze as the light hit his face.
“Blaine? Were you taking food from the wastebasket?”
“I'm..I'm sorry, I woke up and I was hungry and...I didn't think it would be wrong!”
Kurt took several deep breaths, then realized that Blaine was still staring at him in alarm and that he'd better say something. “Blaine, don't you know by now that you don't have to do things like that any more? That if you want food, you should just help yourself? Or if you want, just ask me or Carole to make it for you?” Blaine's expression was definitely “I can understand the words but have no idea what you're saying” and so Kurt came closer, then got on the ground next to him.
“You're not a slave any more here and you're not even a guest any more, you're family now.” Blaine looked away swiftly, almost as if he were rejecting the notion and Kurt sighed. “I wish you would say what you're thinking.”
He barely heard the response. “What I'm thinking? That I don't deserve it. That it's wrong for me to be like this.” Kurt had never heard bitterness and self-loathing like that before, but his mind whipped back to Blaine's previous statement that he didn't deserve it.
“Why not? What could you have done to mean that you deserve to eat from a wastebasket?”
“I killed my father, for one.”
“What happened?”
Blaine spoke in a harsh, clipped voice. “I was nine. His enemies had set him up as having funneled money to terrorists. That was a family penalty, not just a personal penalty crime. They arrested us both. They kept us separate and told me that he wasn't going to confess and that that meant the death penalty for him. They said that I was too young for any serious penalty, that I would just get a year in custody and re-education but that if I testified against him, if I said at the trial everything that they told me to say, that he had friends who would get him off.” Blaine's voice changed and became young and vulnerable again. “They lied, Kurt. I testified against him and they gave him the death penalty. He was executed two days later. One of the guards let me see him. Oh, God, Kurt, he said that he understood what happened, that I had been tricked, that he loved me and would always love me...” Blaine buried his face in his hands and Kurt edged closer. “After he was executed, they sold me. I deserved it, I was the one who killed him, I let them trick me...”
“But Blaine, he forgave you...”
“I didn't deserve it, don't you see? Why can't you see that?”
“You were nine years old, you were scared and confused, people tricked you, and you think you deserve what happened? You don't, Blaine, you don't.” Cautiously, he pulled Blaine to his feet, letting the leftover food fall to the ground, and sat him at the table. “I'm going to have some warm milk, does that sound good to start?” Blaine didn't respond, so Kurt poured milk into two mugs and added several spoonfuls of honey. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and pulled out another mug. “Hello, Finn.”
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“Finn, nobody else in this household walks like you. I'm making Blaine and me some warm milk and then putting something else together for him. Blaine, I froze some of my famous pecan waffles last time I made them, how does that sound?”
“You really should try them, they're great,” Finn agreed enthusiastically. “If I'd known there were any in the freezer, I'd have eaten them.”
“That's why I didn't tell you,” Kurt said, tartly.
“You should totally put one of those almost runny eggs on top.”
“You are so good at making things sound appetizing, I don't know why restaurants don't hire you to write menus. Blaine, Finn means with a lightly poached egg.”
Kurt pulled an apron over his pajamas and put the mugs of milk in the microwave to heat as he pulled out another pan for the eggs and extracted the waffles from the freezer. “That is so not fair,” Finn complained as he saw that Kurt had written “Tofu” on the package.
“I wanted to save them in case we had a special occasion. The three of us on our first joint refrigerator raid counts. You getting hungry is a very ordinary occasion.”
Kurt carefully watched Blaine, who seemed to be relaxing slightly at the banter between the two of them. He was still thinking through what Blaine had told him. After Blaine's trauma and enslavement, it wouldn't take much to make him believe that it was all his fault and that he deserved whatever might happen to him. He swallowed hard at the thought that there was something bad enough to make even Blaine try to run away from the way an owner treated him. He put the mug of warm milk in front of Blaine with a gentle, “Here you go,” and cut the finished waffles and egg into slices that would be easy for him to pick up with a fork.
Finn kept chattering about his favorites among Kurt's recipes to Blaine, and even though Kurt was certain that Finn hadn't overheard the earlier conversation with Blaine, he was being absolutely perfect, saying things like, “You have got to have him make you that one,” or “If you want him to make that one, there's this one grocery store we've got to go to to get that lemony stuff. I kind of got kicked out of there for asking 'what's that' a few too many times, but they still like Kurt.”
“They didn't kick you out for asking what it was, they kicked you out for freaking when you found you sampled duck tongue and thought that you were cheating on Rachel with a duck by eating it.”
Kurt was certain that Blaine actually snickered at that.
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Carole knew in her head that there were all kinds of reasons why she wasn't out there with Burt and Kurt that night. She also knew that there were reasons for them not even to mention the specifics of what they would be doing or where or with whom.
But she had sent a man she loved with all her heart off to a war and he never returned. Burt had brought all that loving back but it seemed like he was bringing all the pain back, too. The waiting, the helplessness, the knowing that as close as they felt, she might never even be certain what happened to him.
He knew, too. His eyes apologized a million times as he showed her again where all the vital documents were. Now some of his decisions made sense. When they had bought the new house, he had insisted on putting it in her name, but giving him and Kurt the right to live there. He'd transferred accounts that were in his name alone to joint accounts. That way, if anything happened to him, she and Finn and Kurt would be taken care of.
Kurt had matter-of-factly done much the same. He'd filled out a form giving Blaine to her and to Finn, since he couldn't officially free him. It was amazing how little paperwork it took. She wasn't a angry person, but the little memo line that the instructions said could be used for notes or gift greetings rankled with her for hours.
The sound of the doorbell made her leap and it wasn't until she peered through the peephole and saw Puck there that she remembered Finn had mentioned that he was coming over for some practice. “Hi, Mrs. H., how're you doing?”
“Oh, I'm fine, Puck, thanks for asking. Finn's upstairs.”
“Thanks.” He flashed her a charming grin before heading upstairs, taking them two at a time.
She turned on the television, if only to have other voices and faces in the room with her. The first channel was some kind of football movie and she left it on. After a few minutes, Blaine emerged from his room and looked at her hesitantly.
“What is it, honey?”
“Is everything all right? Something, something feels off.” His voice trailed off and the worry on his face hit her hard. “And Kurt and Mr. Hummel aren't here.”
Carole had no idea what to say. She didn't want to lie, but then again, she didn't want to alarm him with the truth. In some ways, he seemed to have stopped growing up at the point when his childhood ended, as though enduring too much for his years had kept him caught there. “They have to be gone for a while,” she said, calmly. “Sit down, Blaine, and I'll make us some coffee.”
Instead of sitting, he followed her into the kitchen. Kurt had fussed so much over the layout and the appliances, incredulous when Burt asked if there was much of a difference among stoves other than electric or gas. It was so good that she could feel close to Kurt and that Finn could feel close to Burt, once Kurt got over over his jealousy. She reminded herself that they were bound to be all right, that Kurt and Burt had come back from several expeditions like this unscathed. The only difference now was that there were people waiting at home for them. By any common sense, that shouldn't make a difference, and part of her did believe that her quiet praying could actually help. But somehow it seemed to her as though fate reserved its harshest blows for those who could least withstand them and for those who could be hurt the most.
She poured the coffee into two mugs and passed behind Blaine to get sugar. As she passed back, she ran her fingers affectionately through his hair and he gasped and froze.
“Sweetie, I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?”
She watched as he made himself unclench his muscles and calm his breathing. “I, it's nothing, just...when he did this-,” he reached up to his face, “He held me by the hair. It...” He shivered. “Why can't I stop remembering everything?” he asked, in a tiny voice.
She bent over to hug him, “Give it time, sweetheart, give it time. There will be new memories, I promise.”
At that moment, the door opened and Burt and Kurt came home. She rushed to them and held them close.
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Later that night, a phone call:
“Sergeant? All set. Next move they make, we can bring in Codename Bear and Codename Bird.”
“Finally.”
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“Good. I don't want to drug a kid if we don't have to.”
“I gave Kurt the details on starting some gentle exercises now that the bones are starting to heal up. It can't hurt to give him some calcium pills, as well as making sure he's getting plenty in his food. Let's stop the oral antibiotics and use just the topical ones on those cuts. I've also cut down the strength of the pain killers, but call if it's not enough and I'll give you a stronger prescription.” He paused. “I hate to ask, but is he taken care of in case you ever lose a game?”
Burt nodded. “Kurt transferred ownership to Carole and her son. They're not gamblers and won't be.”
“Good.” The doctor nodded to himself and then looked sharply at Burt. “Have you thought again about what I said? It seems a lot more real and near now, that if Kurt ever loses a game and can't get away from the table, he could end up in trouble. Blaine's counting on him now. That's some real hero-worship there.”
Burt sighed. “I did talk to him. He gave me one of those Kurt looks and told me that he's not very big on compromise.”
“That he's not. Pig-headed's the word,” Bill chuckled affectionately. “But he could cut back for a while, even just a few weeks.”
“Well, next week he and I have an invite to the regional game. They want to talk to us especially. We might need to think about what kinds of stakes they'll ask us to play with.”
“Well, here they are now. But think about it.” Burt had lost track of some of the small changes in Blaine, but talking with his friend about how much better the kid was gave him new eyes for a moment. Blaine looked at them and met his eyes with a small smile, even though he was still walking awkwardly from the foot cast, he wasn't leaning on Kurt for support, and his bruises were fading, some entirely gone. His eyes were clear and though watchful, weren't afraid. Admittedly, the only people there were ones he knew, but Burt remembered his almost feral fear of any movement, even from those who had never harmed him.
At home, Blaine did seem emotionally dependent on Kurt, often following him with his eyes and trying to be close to him, but that was understandable enough and harmless, at least for now. He wasn't sure how to start introducing Blaine to the rest of the world since at some point, he'd want and need more than just the shelter of four walls, but time enough to think about that later.
“Your mom would be proud of you, Kurt.” He reached out and hugged his son, not even seeing the troubled look on Bill Cooper's face.
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