Give Me Love: Part 6/6
Title: Give Me Love
Author: glitterbomb15
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings (if any): Some descriptions of blood/injury
Total Word Count: 19,159
Summary: Kurt Hummel is stuck in the monotony of his life, completely alone and unsatisfied. Until he wakes up one morning to find that he’s grown a pair of wings and been gifted a bow. Destined to give love to other people, Kurt finds himself at a loss, never having experienced love himself. Until he meets Blaine, a paramedic who saves him in more ways than one. Based on the music video for the song "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran.
Masterpost Fic Art
… … …
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
… … …
The smokey atmosphere made it hard for Kurt to see, but then, so did the darkness. His only lights were flashing, cool, fluorescents, providing just enough for people to see each other but not nearly enough to see well.
Kurt had found it. The rumoured abandoned warehouse. There had been talk of it among his friend circle at Vogue. They said if you were lucky enough to find it, there was always a party in the underground basement there.
They were right.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
Kurt walked lazily through the crowd, allowing the atmosphere to consume him. The steady bass line and minor chords of whatever song was playing carried him through. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to just feel.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
When he opened his eyes, he stopped cold. He saw someone he didn’t think he would ever see again after high school.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
David Karofsky. He was up against the wall, talking intimately with some guy. That feeling Kurt got when he saw a couple he was meant to give love to washed over him.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
He choked it down resolutely. No. He would not give love to David Karofsky. Not after everything he did. Not after everything Kurt suffered because of him.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
Kurt stared, transfixed. He was lucky that everyone there was so out of their minds they didn’t pay any attention to a guy with a bow and arrows.
Against the wall, Dave kept leaning into this guy, who kept leaning away. They knew each other well. Kurt didn’t know how, but he could tell. He could feel their history.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
They met in college. They became best friends quickly. This guy helped Dave, helped him to become more brave, more sure of himself.
Dave had fallen in love with him.
The other guy had no idea.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
Kurt tilted his head up and closed his eyes.
What gave them the right? Why did it have to be them? Him? This guy who had tortured Kurt for four years, who had-who had abused him, physically and emotionally-even sexually. Why did Dave deserve love?
Why was Dave worthy of love, and Kurt wasn’t?
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
Kurt felt tears sting his eyes as he lifted his bow, aiming the arrow for the guy next to Dave.
(love me, love me, love me)
He shook his head, allowing a couple tears to fall. It wasn’t fair.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
When Kurt released the arrow, he felt it tug at his own chest. His torso hunched over, and he clenched his chest. He didn’t see it, but he knew the arrow had done its work.
(give me love)
He couldn’t bear it. There was a pain in his chest that rivaled that of the pain he felt the night his wings grew.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
With closed eyes, Kurt began walking again, taking one slow step in front of the other.
He allowed the music to wash over him, to overtake him.
Kurt couldn’t stand to think about what he’d done, about the love he’d given. In his heart, the heart he wasn’t even sure he had anymore, he knew Dave didn’t deserve love.
But who was he to make that call?
(give me love)
If David Karofsky was deemed worthy of love by whoever was making him do this, then wasn’t everybody?
With that idea in mind, Kurt dropped his bow to the floor, clutching his one arrow in his other hand. It was his last arrow of the night.
In a daze, Kurt lifted the arrow and turned to the person on his left, stabbing them in the back. A puff of pink smoke emitted from it, but the arrow didn’t disappear like it usually did. The person immediately started kissing the other person they were talking to.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
Kurt let himself be carried through the crowd by the smoke and the music, the low thrumming in his ears and the bass that matched his pulse.
No one noticed him as he went through, stabbing random people as he went with the same arrow as before.
Fuck the rules. Fuck aiming well. Dave Karofsky deserved love and Kurt didn’t.
Kurt would give love to whoever the fuck he wanted.
(give me love, love me)
Couple after couple, Kurt made his way through. The pink smoke he created was mixing with the regular smoke that already hung in the air. The atmosphere was growing warmer each time Kurt jammed his arrow into someone’s back.
Still, he went on, dragging the arrow across people’s stomaches, their backs, their arms. No one noticed. No one noticed him.
M-my my, m-my my, m-my my, give me love, lover
The buzz he’d gotten from environment and what’d he’d been doing was fading. His daze was waning.
The reality of his situation, of what he’d done, of Dave, of Blaine, it all came crashing down on him.
(give me love)
He had to leave. He had to escape this place. He couldn’t stand to be among all of the love he created, unable to feel it for himself.
Kurt shoved through the crowd, pushing people away and trying to make it out of there.
He just had to get out of there.
… … …
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
… … …
Back at his apartment, Kurt stared at his arrow, the last arrow he’d made. The arrow he’d used to give love to all those people.
He turned it over in his hands, allowing the weight of it to become familiar to him.
Was the love in the arrows? Or was it in Kurt? Each time Kurt released one, was he releasing a part of his heart?
Maybe that’s why he felt so empty. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t allowed to have love. He gave all of his to others.
It wasn’t fair. Kurt deserved love too. Whether it was with Blaine or some other guy, Kurt deserved to have love.
He deserved to be loved.
Kurt knew what he wanted to do. He sat on his mattress, staring at the arrow, considering the ramifications, what might happen. It was risky, it wasn’t guaranteed, but he had to try it.
He shut his eyes and tilted his head up, raising his hand holding the arrow to point the sharp tip of it at his neck.
Without another second of hesitation, he plunged the arrow into his throat.
… … …
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
… … …
Blaine hadn’t been sleeping well. The fight with Kurt earlier was getting to him more than he thought it would.
He liked him. He liked Kurt. He wanted them to be something, to be more, but his past was too much. It overwhelmed him to think about.
That night, the night he came to New York. It was the reason he became a paramedic. It was the reason he didn’t drink. It was the reason he was who he was.
Blaine’s father was an alcoholic. If Mr. Anderson was black-out drunk, it was just another day in the Anderson household. Blaine would’ve accepted this-he would’ve just ignored it-had it not been for the fact that when his dad was wasted, he became violent.
He hit his wife.
One December night when Blaine was 17 years old, his father got wasted and started beating Blaine’s mother. Blaine came downstairs just in time to stop his father from kicking her in the stomache again. When he tried to intervene, his father smashed the whiskey bottle on Blaine’s head, knocking him unconscious.
When he awoke, his mother was being whisked away on a gurney and his father was being handcuffed.
A paramedic was kneeling next to him, helping him. Blaine tried to sit up, but the paramedic urged him back down, telling him that they had another gurney for him. When Blaine asked about his mother, the paramedic informed him that she’d been beaten within inches of her life, but the 911 call had come just in time for them to arrive on the scene and save her.
The paramedics saved his mother’s life and his own.
The paramedic who had been working on him told him to stay put while he got the gurney, because it was likely Blaine had a concussion. The second the paramedic turned his back, Blaine bolted.
He used the last money he had in his wallet to buy a plane ticket to New York and never looked back.
Blaine worried about his mom every day, but he didn’t know what he’d say to her. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible, that if she had made their father go to rehab, things would’ve been different. Instead, she let him drink. She even bought his liquor when he was too drunk to go out and buy it himself.
How was he supposed to explain all of that to Kurt?
The call came in at 1:30am and brought Blaine out of the past to present day.
“Hello?”
The voice of his partner, Brady, came in through the speaker on his phone. “Sorry to call you in so late, but we need you. Lauren called in sick. Think you can cover?”
“Sure,” Blaine said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed. “I’ll be at the hospital in 10 minutes.”
“No time. There’s an emergency not far from your apartment. Bring your kit and meet me there.”
“Alright. What’s the address?”
The address his Brady gave him sounded awfully familiar.
Blaine hung up and threw on his uniform, grabbed his kit, and headed out the door. The closer he got to the address, the faster his heart raced, because he recognized this block. He recognized this apartment complex.
Kurt.
Blaine slowed as he reached the stairs. It was stupid, but he thought that maybe if he took his time, things would change. He would wake up. This wouldn’t be real. This would all be a dream.
But it wasn’t. Brady was already there, trying to explain the situation, but Blaine didn’t hear a word he said. All of the sound left the room and all he could hear was his own pulse thumping against the walls of his skull. He stepped further into the apartment, one foot at a time, prolonging what he knew to be inevitable. Then he reached the bed and saw it.
Kurt’s body lying, right next to a pool of blood.
No.
Blaine got closer and knelt down, staring. There was an arrow in Kurt’s throat, blood still trickling out of the wound. Blaine choked back a sob and reached out a hand, laying it on Kurt’s arm.
He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry.
All of the things Blaine had wanted for them, all of the things he wished he’d said, the potential future of their tentative relationship, it all raced through his mind. He felt stupid for feeling so heartbroken by a man he’d barely known, but there was an undeniable connection between them that would never get the chance to develop now. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t-
“Oh, my god.”
Blaine opened his eyes at Brady’s gasp to see the arrow gone. The arrow that was just lodged in Kurt’s throat not two seconds ago was now gone. The pool of blood was still stained into the white mattress, but the wound was closed.
“Kurt?” Blaine whispered.
Blaine watched as slowly, Kurt’s eyes opened. “Blaine?”
Blaine choked out a sob, the tears he’d been holding back finally escaping. He leaned forward fully, allowing his body to fall on Kurt’s, his forehead resting against Kurt’s temple.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Blaine gasped, struggling to speak as his body was wracked with sobs. “You were gone and there’s so much blood and-and-I just-Kurt.”
Kurt lifted a hand, cupping Blaine’s face. “I’m here. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gone. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
… … …
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
… … …
“So you don’t remember anything?”
Kurt shrugged. “No.”
“The bow, the arrows, the invisible wings, Cupid? Nothing?”
“No.”
Santana leaned back on her hands on Kurt’s bed. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember meeting Blaine, and thinking he was crazy, but then liking him. I remember seeing you again and visiting you at the bar. I remember fighting with Blaine, seeing him at Murphy’s, and then it all just gets kind of…hazy. And the next thing I remember is waking up to Blaine sobbing over me, telling me I had an arrow lodged in my throat.”
“Yet here you are.”
Kurt shrugged again. “Here I am.”
“Weird.”
“I know.”
They were quiet for a moment before Santana asked, “You really don’t remember?”
Kurt laughed and shoved her back. “No! I told you! I don’t remember anything!”
“But you remember Blaine and me.”
“Yeah. I remember you guys.”
There was a knock on the door that made them both turn their heads.
“Your boyfriend’s here for your date.”
“Yep.”
Kurt stood up and headed for the door, opening it to reveal Blaine. “Hey, you,” Blaine smiled.
“Hi.”
They smiled dopily at each other in the doorway before Santana sighed and ruined the moment. “I guess that means I’m out.”
“Unless you want to hang around my dingy apartment staring at the wall.”
“I think I’ll take a raincheck. See you later.”
She squeezed past them and left.
“So, where to tonight?” Kurt asked.
Blaine inhaled deeply and said, “I thought I’d take you over to my place and cook dinner for you.”
Kurt’s eyes widened. “Really? I get to see where you live?”
Blaine nodded. “Yes sir. And there is a conversation I’d like to have with you that’s long overdue.”
Kurt could tell from the way he said it that Blaine was finally going to open up, finally going to tell Kurt about his past. Kurt refrained from squealing his delight. Instead, he took his boyfriend’s hand and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.
“Lead the way,” Kurt smiled.
Blaine tugged on his hand to stop him. “Wait. There’s something I want to tell you first.”
“Before we have our other conversation?”
Blaine smiled softly at Kurt’s confused expression. “Yes. There’s a question you asked me a while ago, at Central Park. You asked me why I wanted to talk to you, why I came over to you that night at Murphy’s.”
“Oh.”
Blaine pulled Kurt into him, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist. “I came over to you because you looked like the loneliest, saddest person I’d ever seen. I saw you over there at your table, just people watching, and I thought how familiar you looked. I tried to place it, and then I realized, you reminded me of myself. I looked at you and I saw myself when I first came to the city. You broke my heart that night, Kurt.”
Kurt frowned and brought his hands up to cup Blaine’s face, kissing him softly. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you were gone. I thought I’d lost you forever, yet here you are. And I don’t want to hold back anymore. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid.”
Kurt tilted his head and smiled softly, bringing one hand down and laying it over Blaine’s chest. “How’s your heart now?”
Blaine smiled and stared into Kurt’s eyes. “Fully mended. And how is your heart?”
Kurt paused and thought for a moment. He thought of the time he took getting to know Blaine, of that awful night that almost ripped them apart before they were even together. He thought of how desperate he used to be, how lonely he was. He thought of the first night he’d spoken to Blaine, and the couple he’d seen flirting playfully against the wall. He thought of all the dates he’d been on with Blaine since then, how each one of them felt like they gave him a little bit more hope.
Love was something Kurt never dreamed he’d achieve. Now it seemed possible. Now it felt real.
“Full of love,” Kurt replied, leaning in for a kiss.
… … …
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
My, my, my, my, oh give me love
… … …