fic: the closest to heaven (5b/12)
Title: The Closest to Heaven
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: R (see warnings, also - sexual situations in later chapters)
Word Count: 3,660 for this part; 14,908 overall
Warnings: character death, depression, self-harm, suicide attempts, psychiatric hospitalization, hospitalization for heart issues, bullying, gay-bashing, homophobia, talk of drug and alcohol abuse, talk of involvement with gangs, talk of ocd
Summary: Confined to the walls of the UC Neuroscience Institute, Blaine Anderson has completely given up on life. But when he meets Kurt Hummel - a boy who’s remaining strong even though his own life is falling apart, Blaine begins to realize that maybe he doesn’t have to give up just yet. Maybe he’s strong enough to keep fighting.
Thankfully, therapy doesn’t quite go the way it did in his dream.
He goes early in the morning, right before breakfast. Emma’s at his door at seven AM, waiting patiently for him to finish getting ready. He joins her nervously, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
“It won’t be that bad,” Emma promises. “I know Marianne. In fact, she was my therapist for quite awhile.”
Blaine looks up at her, and she smiles at him, giving him a pat on the back.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay, but I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. I promise, you’re going to do just fine.”
The door is open when they reach it, and unlike the room in Blaine’s dream, it’s large and spacious with wide bay windows and plenty of comfortable furniture. And instead of Andrew, a woman who appears to be somewhere in her forties is sitting behind the desk. She’s small and rather plump, with light brown hair, and warm, brown eyes behind her glasses.
“Hello, Marianne,” Emma says brightly. “How are you today?”
“Quite well, actually,” Marianne says, standing up. “My son finally went back home last night. It’s been a week since I slept that well. I love that boy, but he really puts a strain on my nerves.”
Emma lets out a laugh, and Blaine breathes out a sigh of relief. She seems nice enough.
“And you must be Blaine,” she says, turning towards him. “I’m Marianne, your therapist. And I know you probably don’t like the sound of that word, but it sounds a lot better than shrink, I like to believe. I feel like if people called me that, they’d just be making fun of me.” She holds out her hand.
Blaine forces a small smile as he shakes her hand gently. “I can relate.”
Marianne chuckles, letting go. “Well, Emma,” she says. “I’ll see you in forty-five minutes then. I think it’s time Blaine and I get acquainted.”
Emma gives Blaine a squeeze on the shoulder as she leaves the room, closing the door carefully behind her.
“Well,” Marianne says, turning back to him. “Why don’t you take a seat over on that couch. I’ve just got to grab my clipboard, and then we can get started.”
He nods, walking over to the couch and carefully sitting down.
“Please don’t mind the notes I take,” Marianne says, sitting down in the chair across from him. “It’s just for reference because I have a horrible memory.”
Blaine nods again, relaxing a little into the cushions.
“Now, Blaine,” Marianne says, looking up at him. “Why don’t we just start with the basics - how old are you, where are you from, where do you go to school? Just anything general you want to tell me.”
“Well,” he sighs, beating a hand against his thigh. “I’m sixteen. I live in Westerville, and I go to school at Dalton Academy.”
“What’s it like at Dalton Academy?”
“Nice,” Blaine replies simply. “Everyone there’s really friendly - especially the guys in the Warblers.”
“The Warblers?”
“The glee club. We’re an a capella group,” Blaine explains. “I was their sort of . . . leader, I guess. We lost at Sectionals, however, and so we didn’t have much to do for the rest of the year besides our spring concert.”
“And you like singing?” Marianne asks.
“I love singing,” Blaine replies, letting a small, sincere smile grace his lips. “I love acting. I just love performing. The stage has always been my home.”
Marianne nods, pressing her tongue against her cheek. “I’m guessing you haven’t always gone to Dalton Academy,” she says, raising her eyebrows.
Blaine shakes his head, swallowing hard. “I transferred in the middle of my freshman year.”
“Why?”
“I - I got beaten,” he says quietly. “There were these - these three guys, and they - “ He breaks off, closing his eyes and bending forward. He takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his panic.
“Blaine?” Marianne asks. “It’s okay. You’re right here with me. No one’s going to hurt you. If - if you’re comfortable, would you mind telling me what those three guys did, exactly? How did they hurt you? Why did they do it?”
Blaine takes another deep breath, calming himself. He straightens up, but continues looking at his lap. “I went to the school dance,” he says slowly. “With - with one of my friends. He was a guy. I - I’m - I’m gay, and he was too, and we just - we wanted to have some fun. So we went. And it was fun. Until afterward.” He closes his eyes, fighting dizziness. “We - we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, and they just - they came out of nowhere. Before I knew what was happening, they were punching me, kicking me. Jason was ripped away from me, and I could hear him fighting them off. He only lasted a few seconds though, and I heard him drop to the ground somewhere beside me.”
He breaks off, and his voice begins to waver, sobs blocking his throat. “There was blood,” he says quietly. He swallows hard, but it doesn’t help. The sobs are starting to break through, and he can’t stop them. “There was so much blood, and I knew it was mine. It was Jason’s too, and it was everywhere. All around me, and I just - I didn’t think anyone could have that much blood inside of them, let alone bleed that much and stay conscious. But it wasn’t for long. I was in a coma for three days, and I - I stayed in the hospital for another two weeks after that. And that’s when my parents decided to pull me out of that school and they transferred me to Dalton Academy. That’s - that’s where my brother, Cooper, had gone to school.”
“Now, Blaine,” Marianne starts. “I’m going to be very cliché here and ask you - how did that make you feel? What were thinking when you started at Dalton? Anything specific about those boys, about your family, about the sudden change?”
Blaine runs a shaky hand over his face, exhaling roughly. “I was in shock mostly, at first,” he starts. “I really couldn’t believe what had happened. Dalton, it - it was safer. And that’s why I thought my parents sent me there at first, but - “ He breaks off, putting his face in his hands.
“But what, Blaine?”
He lifts his head ever so slightly, just enough that he can get the words out, “But I was wrong. They - they just wanted to get rid of me. They didn’t want to deal with me anymore. They didn’t even care about me. These kids had beaten the shit out of me and my dad still looked at me with disgust. He - he probably would’ve rather had those kids kill me, like - ”
He stops mid-sentence and takes one last deep breath in a ditch attempt to calm himself. He fails miserably. He doubles over, wrapping his arms around his torso as he sobs hard. Within seconds, Marianne is sitting next to him, rubbing her hand up and down his arm.
“Let it out, Blaine,” she says quietly. “Just let it out; you’ll feel better.”
He shies away from her touch, curling up into himself a little more. Memories are flashing through his mind, bursting through the wall he’s put up over the past few years. After all of this time of feeling numb, of living through random bouts of pain that he’s quick to cover up, he’s stopped pushing everything back. He’s let the numbness slip away and he’s finally letting himself feel.
And the first thing to come rushing back is the pain.
The hurt, the fear, the anger, the anxiety. More intense than ever before. All of this time he’s only felt the dulled sensations of those emotions, but now he’s letting them back in full force. He knows that happiness and joy and contentment are all somewhere there too, but they’re buried a long way under, and now all he can hope for is to get it all back.
Therapy’s supposed to help him find it. Anti-depressants are supposed to help him find it. And hell, Kurt’s already helping him to find it.
It’s going to be a long journey, but Blaine’s ready to start. That’s why he’s here, that’s why he’s sitting in the middle of his therapist’s office crying his eyes out. That’s why he’s allowing all of these memories to come back - so he can deal with them. So he can work through all the pain and anxiety that comes with them.
This is what he has to do if he’s ever going to find peace.
.
.
Blaine’s slumped forward onto their usual table when Kurt enters the café, his bag across his shoulder. He’s smiling, walking with a skip in his step, but as soon as he sees Blaine, he falters.
“You look exhausted,” he remarks, sitting down and pulling his bag off. “Are you okay?”
Blaine sighs heavily, lifting himself up and sitting straight. “I had my first private therapy session this morning,” he says quietly.
“How did that go?” Kurt asks nervously.
Blaine shrugs, resting his cheek in his hand. “Draining, mostly. I know it’s supposed to help me, but I don’t feel much better. Everything just hurts worse.”
Kurt reaches out, taking Blaine’s hand in his. He rubs his thumb gently over the tops of Blaine’s fingers. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and then pauses. “Will you let me try to cheer you up?”
The frown on Blaine’s face lifts slightly. “Are you going to take me to see your dad again?” he asks teasingly.
Kurt hangs his head, laughing slightly. “No,” he says, looking back at him. “I want to help you, not trigger you.”
“Then give me your best shot,” Blaine replies.
Kurt smiles, giving Blaine’s hand a squeeze. “Well, come on,” he says softly. “We can’t do it in here.” He stands up, putting his bag back on his shoulders and beckoning Blaine to follow him.
“Wait - do what?” Blaine asks as they exit the cafeteria.
“You told me you were in glee club,” Kurt says, walking swiftly down the hall.
“And?”
“And you know I am too,” Kurt says. He turns a sharp right and goes out into the courtyard. The very same one Blaine had been in with Cooper and the Warblers. “Well,” he says, stopping. He turns around, putting a hand is pocket. “At McKinley, we have weekly glee assignments, and this week, it’s inspirational and hopeful songs. I figured both of us could really use a little inspiration and hope.”
Blaine nods, and this time, the small grin that graces his lips isn’t forced. “And what song are you doing?”
“’Here Comes the Sun’,” Kurt replies. “I’m singing it with my brother, but he refuses to practice right now. So . . . will you do the honor of singing it with me?”
Blaine chuckles nervously, looking down at his feet for a moment. “Kurt, it’s been months since I last sang.” He looks up, biting his lip.
“Well, don’t you think you should be getting back to it then?” Kurt asks with a smirk. His eyes are bright, his expression filled with nothing but hope and eagerness, and he’s practically bouncing up and down on his feet. Blaine doesn’t have the heart to ruin that.
“Fine,” Blaine says with an eyeroll. “I’ll sing it with you.”
“Good,” Kurt replies. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a folder. Inside is sheet music, and he hands a copy to Blaine. “You’ll start on harmony, but we’ll switch quite a bit.”
Blaine nods, looking it over. It seems easy enough, but the thought of act actually opening his mouth and belting out the lyrics, letting himself get lost in the music and possibly enjoying himself - it’s incredibly nerve-wracking.
“So,” he says swallowing hard. “You - you go ahead, then. I come in after you.”
Kurt stares at him for a second, then laughs. “Loosen up, Blaine,” he says. “Relax. Singing is going to help you, I promise.”
Blaine nods, breathing deep.
Kurt’s smile fades to a smirk, looking down at his music. Softly, he begins to sing. “Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo. Here comes the sun, and I say it’s alright.”
Blaine joins on the harmony, stepping over so he’s standing beside Kurt. “Little darling, it’s been a long, cold lonely winter. Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here. Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo. Here comes the sun, and I say it’s alright.”
Kurt grins widely and gives Blaine’s shoulder a nudge. Carefully, Blaine takes the lead. “Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces. Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here.”
Kurt steps around Blaine, looking over his shoulder as he does so, smirking. “Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo.” He leans in, singing right into Blaine’s face. “Here comes the sun, and I say, it’s alright.”
Blaine leans back, replying with, “Sun, sun, sun, here it comes.”
Kurt shoots right back, “Sun, sun, sun, here it comes.”
They skirt around each other, walking down the path and stepping around the fountain, singing. “Sun, sun, sun, here it comes. Sun, sun, sun here it comes. Sun, sun, sun here it comes.”
Kurt stops on the beat, spinning swiftly around. Blaine steps right up to him, matching his quiet melodies. “Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting. Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear. Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo. Here comes the sun, and I say it’s alright.”
Kurt leans against the fountain, and moving slowly, Blaine joins him as they sing, “Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo. Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo. It’s alright. It’s alriiiiight.” They hold the last note, sliding into a decrescendo. They finish on an almost whispered note, staring right at each other. They’re quiet for a moment, catching their breath.
“You’re really good,” Kurt breathes.
Blaine smiles, real and honest. “Thank you,” he says shyly, and he can feel the blush in his cheeks. “You are too.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“You’re amazing,” Blaine insists.
Kurt presses his lips together, trying to hide his grin. Quickly changing the subject, he asks. “So, do you feel better?”
Blaine contemplates it for a moment, and after a second, with the easy smile still on his face, he replies. “Yeah - yeah, I do. Thank you.”
And for one, he’s not lying. He can’t even remember the last time he sang and actually enjoyed it. He can’t remember the last time smiling and laughing came so easily.
He can’t remember the last time he felt this happy.
.
.
chapter 6a