Because You Left, Chapter Nineteen
Title: Because You Left, Chapter Nineteen: Furt
Pairing/Character(s): Ben Linus Anderson, Blaine Anderson, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Artie Abrams, Brittany S. Pierce, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang (Santana Lopez and Will Schuester briefly).
Rating: PG (for this chapter)
Warnings: Finn logic.
Word Count: A little over 7,000
Spoilers: Potential spoilers (kind of) for all six seasons of LOST, and up to and through Glee 2X08, "Furt."
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee or LOST, I make no claims to such, and I am not profiting from this. The song referenced in this chapter is "Tennessee Waltz," by Patti Page (although Ben's favorite is, of course, the Patsy Cline version.)
Summary: In which Finn explains his decision with some help from Tobey Maguire and Marvel Comics (and Kurt), and Ben and Blaine do a few things that they have never done before.
Author's Notes: This is a Glee/LOST AU crossover. Fic is a work in progress, but I do have a substantial backlog of chapters to post while I work on the newest ones. I hope to post once a week, on Sundays, barring fire, flood, corset-related disasters, and/or LJ outages. NOTE: This fic will be going on a four-week hiatus after Chapter 20, so I can get a good head-start on the more LOST-centric second section. There will be NO new chapters posted April 15 - May 6. After that, posting will resume on Sundays as normal.
Previous chapters and supplemental materials can be found on the masterpost (which has finally been updated. Sorry I'm a slacker).
I do realize that this is a shift in tone from the last two chapters, and it is April 1st in my time zone, but I swear to God this is not a prank. I swear to God.
now
Blaine fidgets on the sofa, adjusts his suit coat, smooths down his trousers, drums his hands against his uninjured thigh, glances back over his shoulder in the general direction of his father's room.
"Dad?" he calls.
"In a second," his father replies, voice a little quiet, a little distant. Preoccupied.
Blaine sighs, reaches up to make sure his collar hasn't flipped up since the last time he checked it (it hasn't), runs his hands over his hair to make sure it's in place (it is). "Dad, we're going to be late!"
"I said just a second, Blaine!"
Blaine sighs again.
It's not just that he hasn't really been out of the house for a week (although he hasn't, really, apart from trips out to see his physical therapist, which aren't exactly fun.) It's just... He's never been to a wedding before, is the thing, and although Kurt's told him time and time again that the most important thing is that he shows up at all... He really, really doesn't want to be late.
"Dad, just let me do it for you," he calls out, his voice sounding a little more pleading, a little less nonchalant, than he wants it to. But maybe that's for the best, because after a few seconds, his father finally emerges from his bedroom, in his nice suit, with his nice new tie hanging loosely around his neck.
"Is this the part where I remind you that I spent most of my life on a tropical island in the South Pacific?" his dad asks, crouching obediently by the sofa. "One, I might add, that didn't have any particular dress code."
Blaine tsks at him a little bit, reaching out to adjust the tie, pulling the wide end down. His dad never pulls the wide end down far enough; that's half the problem. "We've been back on the mainland for ten years, Dad," he points out. "Plenty of time to learn how to tie a tie."
His father rolls his eyes as Blaine leans in. Cross the wide end in front, then wrap it around and behind... "Yes," he says, dryly, holding still and letting Blaine work. "Because it's not like I've had any other priorities."
"Don't be that way," Blaine scolds, and wraps the wide end around again, bringing it up to finish off the last loop. "Anyway, it's easy. You could learn it in like, ten minutes. If you wanted to."
"Well, that's just the thing, Blaine," his father says, mildly; Blaine finishes the knot and tightens it carefully, leaving it a little looser than he would if it was for himself. His dad tends to get cranky when his ties are too tight. "Apparently I can't." But he smiles as Blaine pulls back, studying him critically. "I guess you're just smarter than me."
Blaine reaches up and pats his dad's freshly-shaven cheek. "Well," he says. "At least you look good. And that's the important thing."
His father raises an eyebrow at him. "You'll be the brains, and I'll be the beauty?" he asks.
Blaine's grin widens. "Something like that," he says. His grin only falters a little bit as his dad rocks back on his heels, reaching out for the arm of the sofa and using it to very, very carefully lever himself up to standing. Blaine's not totally sure, but it seems like every time, it's a little bit harder for his dad to push himself back up to his feet again. He thinks that, more than anything, that's why he changed his mind. Because it's getting harder for his dad.
But he doesn't say anything about it, just stands up, most of his weight on his good leg, and reaches out for his crutches. His dad passes them over, watching him intently, and doesn't interfere. "Okay," Blaine says, getting himself settled and stable on his crutches. "Are we ready?"
"Yes," his father says, quietly. "Yes, I think so."
*
then
Finn Hudson knocks on Ben's door a little bit after eleven am on Saturday morning. It isn't shocking, not exactly, but it does leave Ben a little nonplussed. Particularly when he looks past Finn's shoulder and realizes that Kurt is nowhere in sight.
"I... uh... I kind of asked Kurt to stay home," Finn says, sheepishly. "I mean, he wanted to come, and I actually kind of felt bad asking him to stay and everything, because he really did want to, but I... um... I dunno, it's just... It seemed important, I guess. That it was just me, and not... you know. That I'm doing this for me, and not, like, just going along with whatever he says. Because I wouldn't do that. I mean, I guess sometimes I kind of would, if it's, like, clothes or stuff, but... this is, like, important, and I just... It's just really important that I... um, that I do this. For me."
"Oh," Ben says, bemused. Then, remembering his manners, he adds, "Won't you come in."
Finn shuffles into the house, pausing just inside the door to set down the plastic grocery bag he's carrying and kick off his sneakers. Ben glances over at his son, once again ensconced on the couch -- he's wearing his own Dalton Warblers sweatshirt, but the snap-up pants are still Finn's; they've been awfully convenient when it's time for bandage changes, and at the moment, convenience trumps nearly everything else. "Um," Blaine says, openly staring as Finn shrugs off his jacket. "Hi. Finn."
"Hey, Blaine," Finn says, and picks up his bag again. "I. Um. My girlfriend, Rachel, she... She made these, for you." He reaches into the bag and holds out a plastic container. "They're 'Get Well' cookies? She said that they were kind of the same as her 'I'm Sorry' cookies, only with more flaxseed oil. So they're... you know. Healthier."
"Great," Blaine manages, after a few seconds. He reaches out, and Finn passes the cookies over into his hands. "Thanks, Finn. And... you know, if you could thank your girlfriend for me, that would --"
"Oh, yeah," Finn says, quickly. "Yeah, no, sure. Totally."
"Thanks," Blaine says again. There is a long, incredibly awkward pause, and then Blaine tips his head to the side and asks, "So... is that... Is that what you needed to do? Just... the cookies?"
"No," Finn says. "Well, I mean, yes and then no? Because, I mean, obviously, Rachel asked me to bring the cookies, so... Um... But then I was also... See Kurt and I were talking, last night, about... about everything, and I kind of started to wonder if... um... See, the thing is, I..." Finn gnaws on his lip for a second, shifts his plastic bag from one hand to the other. "Did you guys... Did you guys ever watch the... um... Did you ever watch the Spider-Man movies?"
Ben looks at his son, bewildered, and Blaine stares back at him, and for several long seconds, neither of them can say anything at all.
"It's..." Blaine says, eyebrows still drawn together. "It's been a while." His voice goes up at the end, almost like it's a question. Ben supposes that it probably is.
"Okay," Finn says, and holds up the bag, shaking it. The plastic is thin enough that Ben can see the outline of two DVD cases through it. It's enough to let him know where this is going, but the why of it all continues to elude him. "Okay, cool, because I have them, so we can... You know. We can refresh your memory."
Blaine just blinks at him. "And this is... This is why you're here," he says, voice still questioning. "Without Kurt. To remind me of Spiderman."
Finn nods eagerly. "Yeah," he says, sounding peculiarly thrilled by that. "Yeah, exactly. See, I knew you'd get it."
"I..." Blaine looks at his father, his face almost cartoonishly bewildered. All Ben can do is sigh.
"Have a seat, Finn," he says, gesturing at the couch. "I'll get you something to drink."
*
now
Kurt offered them seats in the very front, with his aunt and Finn's grandparents, but Blaine insisted on the back row. Mostly because it's awkward, with the crutches, and he knows how much running around the New Directions are going to be doing in their first song ("the processional," Kurt calls it), and he doesn't want to trip anyone. But also because... Just because.
Because some of the Glee kids (no one he knows, just some of them) were hanging around outside the chapel before he entered, and they looked at him, and no one did more than wave at him or smile, but still, it was weird. Because Mr. Schuester was glancing over his shoulder at the doors as Blaine and his father were ushered to their seats, and the moment he saw them, he stood up, made his way over to where they were sitting, gave Blaine's father an "It's so good to see you again," and gave Blaine an "I'm glad to finally meet you under... under better circumstances." Because as Mr. Schuester talked, Blaine looked past him and saw even more people, people he didn't know and couldn't place, watching them curiously.
Because Blaine saw his own picture in the Saturday paper -- just a little one, last year's yearbook photo with his Dalton blazer on and his hair slicked down and the sort of tense smile he always had back then -- next to an article about the shooting at McKinley. It wasn't on the front page, at least, but it wasn't on the last, either -- it was on the third, underneath the headline New Details Emerge About McKinley High Shooting, captioned Blaine Anderson, 16, was injured while trying to disarm the gunman. And while it was a small picture, and at least it wasn't on the front page (or worse, on the Channel 8 news), it's still attention, and not the right kind. He hasn't been out of the house a whole lot since the shooting -- just for physical therapy, really -- but he can still see the effect that it's had. People look at him: when his dad helps him out of the car, when they make their way into the hospital, even when he's in the PT room going through another endless, painful set of lunges. They notice him, now. They see.
And maybe it's not that much different from the Warblers, but then again, it kind of is. Because yes, he's been up front and at center, out where people could see him. But at the same time, there were still the Warblers behind him, all in their identical blazers and ties and khakis, and he always knew that if he wanted to, he could step back into the crowd on the risers, and blend in, and become invisible.
He can't do that now, and it scares him. It makes him want to hide his face in his father's shoulder; it makes him want to run away and never come back. It makes him want to leave -- not just the church, but the city, the state. Maybe even the country, if it comes to that. He wants to go somewhere where no one knows who he is, somewhere where he's invisible. Somewhere where he's safe.
But then someone's hissing at him from the chapel doors, and when he looks back, he sees Kurt, beaming at him. And just like that, his face lightens -- he doesn't even think about it, it just happens, like if Kurt's smiling then he has to smile too. Like he doesn't even really know how to do otherwise. And then Finn is leaning over Kurt's shoulder, and he waves, and Blaine waves back. And he doesn't want to run anymore, not really. He wants to stay. He really does.
It's just...
It's so strange, actually being here. This is the hall he helped Kurt pick out (Unitarian Universalist, because they figured it'd either make everyone happy or make them all mad, but either way, everyone would feel the same about it). These are the flowers they decided on, together. And when the music starts, and the members of New Directions start dancing their way down the aisles, Blaine realizes that even if Kurt wasn't able to get all the girls into the same dress, they're all at least wearing the same color, and what's most amazing is that it flatters all of them. And Kurt did that. Somehow, he did that.
(And if it makes Blaine think about the McKinley home ec room, and the wall of fabric, and one particular bolt of red calico sticking out a little further than the rest, if it makes him remember a different shade of red, one that stained his hands and stained the tiles and stained Kurt's jeans and Santana's white Nikes, if it makes him remember --)
It's only for a moment, and then Kurt's friend Mercedes is patting him fondly on the cheek before Kurt starts twirling her up the aisle, and then Santana hesitates for just a second and gives him the smallest of smiles before chasing after the boy with the mohawk, and it's not like he forgets again, because he doesn't. Because he can't. But at the same time, there's something... There's something different. Something he's never really felt before, and doesn't have a name for.
But he likes it. He thinks.
Then Burt appears, dancing his way up the aisle in the most amazingly ridiculous manner ever. And Carole follows after, in a dress that's not quite the one he and Kurt would have chosen, but is as close as they could come in such a limited timeframe, and she's so beautiful -- no glitter, no rhinestones, no shiny embroidery, just her. And then they're together at the pulpit, with Kurt and Finn on either side of them, and the members of Kurt's glee club lined up on the steps, and for some reason, Blaine is blinking back tears before the pastor even says a word. He's not entirely sure just why. It's just... he's never seen anything like this before. And he doesn't even know what it is, not really, but whatever it is, it takes his breath away.
The pastor makes a joke about young wedding planners and people falling asleep, and people laugh. Even Blaine's father chuckles, but Blaine can't; he's too busy trying not to cry. And then the pastor says something else, says that Burt and Carole are going to explain why everyone's here, and when Burt turns to face the audience, his eyes focus on Ben and Blaine, safely hidden in the back, and Blaine's breath catches in his throat, because he's not totally sure what Burt's going to say and he's a little scared of it.
"So, I don't know if any of you guys heard about this," Burt says, "but... uh... But we've had kind of a rough week, here, actually. With Kurt, and what happened at the school, and everything... Well. Like I said, it's been a little rough."
There's a pause, and Blaine sees his father reach for something in his inside jacket pocket; he's not surprised when it turns out to be a small packet of tissues. His father holds it out, and he takes it, and when his father leaves his hand outstretched, Blaine takes that too, squeezing tightly.
(it always helps, holding his father's hand.)
"The thing is," Burt says, and reaches out, and Carole wraps both her small hands around one of his, "when you think about starting a new family, you don't always think about how hard it's going to be. You think about the joy, and the celebration, but you never think about all the things you're gonna go through after that, and whether you're gonna be able to trust this person, and whether they're gonna be able to carry you through. And... And the way it worked out, with us, I don't have to wonder anymore. I know.
"I have struggled more in this last week than I have..." He shakes his head, and Blaine fumbles one of the tissues out of the packet, because that's his fault; he's made them struggle, and it just feels -- "More than I have for a long time. And I have had so many questions and so many doubts, and every single time I thought that I just... Every time I thought I couldn't, I looked to Carole, and I realized that I could. Because she was with me.
"You are..." He turns to face her, and Blaine wipes at his eyes, still clinging tightly to his father's hand, because even underneath the guilt, there's still that feeling. Like there's more than just dread, this time, more than just fear and mistrust. That there's something else, and maybe it's not there because of him, but it's there for him. If he wants it to be. "You are everything, Carole. You are so smart, and so strong, and so... so loving, and you just... You are everything, Carole, and I will love you until the day I die."
There's a little pause, and Blaine looks over at his father, sees him smiling, just a little bit. And that something else that Blaine is feeling, that he's been feeling since Kurt smiled and Finn waved and Mercedes patted him on the cheek -- It's in his father's smile, somehow. And Blaine still doesn't really have a name for it, but when he scoots closer to his father, leans his head on his father's shoulder and feels his father's arm settling around him, it's there, right there, close enough that he can feel the warmth of it.
(sometimes he thinks that was the hardest thing -- when he was with tom and his father was in that room, when his father was gone. blaine could see him, he could be with him, but he couldn't touch him.)
(he couldn't hold his father's hand.)
"When I met Burt," Carole says, smiling up at him, still holding one of his big hands with both of hers. "I remember a few of my co-workers told me to be careful, because I wasn't just getting a man, I was getting... Getting his family, too. And I remember thinking Good, because that was exactly what I wanted." She turns her head, just for a second, and smiles at Ben and Blaine all the way in the back row, and Blaine thinks, Oh. "And it still is. And I am so proud to be a part of this family."
Family. Blaine repeats the word in his head, over and over again. Family. Family. Family.
Carole lets go of Burt's hand with one of hers, reaches out for Finn's; he reaches back, holds on tightly. "Finn, you are... You really are a man, now, and you have been so... wonderful, through all of this, and such a good brother to Kurt. And Kurt --" Burt and Finn reach out simultaneously, the four of them linking up like a chain, and Blaine's chest is so tight, watching them, the lump in his throat is just so big. Family. "You could not be any braver or more compassionate, and I am so lucky to get to call you my son, and I am so lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with the man who taught you how to be that compassionate, to get to love someone with... with such a big, warm, strong heart. I am just so... I am so lucky that you are my family. You are exactly what I wanted, and I am just so... so grateful. To have all of you in my life."
She looks up again, at Ben and Blaine, and then Finn looks over too, and then if anyone else does Blaine can't see it, because he tucks his head into his father's shoulder, overwhelmed. Because this is what he's feeling; he gets it now, and it's so -- He can't understand it, how this could be for him, how he could have this.
So he hides his face until the priest tries to read the vows, and Burt and Carole both interrupt him, and then he glances up just in time to see them kissing, and they look so happy, and then everyone's standing up and cheering, but his dad stays sitting right next to him, one arm wrapped around him, the other patting at his thigh in a sort of approximation of applause.
And Blaine claps too, as hard as he can, the packet of Kleenex dropping to the floor at his feet even though he's vaguely aware that he's still crying.
Family, he thinks again, for no real reason, and when he sees Kurt looking at him, he keeps his head up and looks right back.
(and when he finally got to see his father again, when his father had eaten all of the banana and blaine had praised him and his father had actually smiled -- his lips so dry and cracked that they bled, a little, when he stretched them upwards -- blaine dropped the banana peel to the floor and reached out and clung to his father's hand with both of his own.)
(and his father squeezed his hand, and kept smiling.)
(and it didn't matter where they were, because they were together, and blaine could hold his father's hand again, and he knew that he was home.)
*
then
Kurt shows up at the end of the first movie, while Peter and Mary Jane are still in the cemetary, talking. "Mr. Anderson," he says, almost as soon as the door is opened. "Hi. I was wondering if..."
"Kurt!" Blaine calls happily, from the couch. Ben turns and sees his son peering eagerly at the door, his face alight, even as Finn slouches into himself. "Finn said you weren't coming."
"Well," Kurt says, lightly; Ben steps out of the way without a word, and Kurt slips into the house. "I don't think Finn realizes just how much I like Spiderman. Besides, I heard that he brought cookies, so."
Blaine holds up the plastic container, shakes it in what might possibly be some kind of invitation; Ben can't help but notice that it's still mostly full. "They have flaxseed oil," Blaine says, because apparently that's as close as he can come to a compliment. "It's... It's healthy."
"I'll bet it is," Kurt says, sliding out of his loafers and padding over to the sofa. Finn slinks down the cushions without being asked, leaving Kurt with enough room to slip in between them, a little closer to Blaine than he is to Finn. Almost as soon as he's settled, Blaine is shifting closer.
"I didn't think you would come," Blaine says again, a little more subdued, but still happy in a way that he usually isn't, and Ben is torn between a sort of pleased recognition and then a sort of alarm as well. He prides himself on his ability to prepare for all outcomes, but this... He has no idea how to deal with this. He supposes that, to a certain extent, he's meant to just let it happen.
Kurt just shrugs, his shoulder brushing against Blaine's. "Well," he says again. "I mean, I wasn't going to, because I really don't want to steal Finn's thunder, or anything, and it was his idea. But I guess..." He tears his eyes away from Blaine and glances at Finn, still huddled in on himself at the end of the couch. "I guess it's just such a good idea that I couldn't resist, in the end."
Finn doesn't say anything to that, but he straightens up a little in his seat, and while Ben still isn't ready for any of this, he's a little comforted to remember just how kind Kurt can be. Not, of course, that he can say that out loud. So he slips into the kitchen instead -- there's Diet Coke in the fridge, has been since the first time Kurt visited them. And if nothing else, it'll be something for Kurt to hold in his hands when he's nervous.
Not that he has a particular reason to believe that Kurt's going to be nervous, but. Well.
When he comes back out, Kurt and Blaine are talking in low voices. "I don't understand," Blaine murmurs. "How is this a metaphor?"
The tips of Finn's ears are bright red; his arms are folded, and Ben can't help but feel a little bad for him. Whatever the boys are talking about, it's obviously made him defensive again. "You'll see," Kurt says. "Just remember. You're Peter Parker, and I'm Mary Jane."
"You're Mary Jane?" Blaine repeats, bewildered. "But Kurt, you're not..."
Kurt shrugs. "It's not the most literally accurate of metaphors," he admits. "But I think I'm warming up to it. And admittedly, I would probably look good as a redhead."
Blaine studies him for a second, until Ben reaches over the back of the couch and passes Kurt his drink. Then he looks up at his father, tilts his head to the side, and grins. "So, if I'm Peter Parker," he says, something a little mischievous in his eyes, "would that make my dad Aunt May?"
"Watch it," Ben says, chiding, but there's no heat behind it, and he's still smiling a little bit too as he returns to his seat.
It doesn't last long.
They restart the movie -- Peter leaves Mary Jane in the cemetary, and Ben thinks about what Kurt said, You're Peter Parker and I'm Mary Jane, and he glances over at Blaine. His eyebrows are drawn together again, and there's something... something almost hurt in his expression. "Kurt," he says, wounded, and Kurt shakes his head, shushing him.
"We have to watch the second movie," he says. "It all hinges on the second movie."
Finn watches the two of them as the credits start to roll; he waits until Blaine nods and sinks back into the couch cushions, leaning into Kurt a little bit more. Then and only then does he go to change the DVD.
*
now
They're still in the back for the reception, still a little hidden, and Blaine almost wishes he hadn't insisted quite so hard that Kurt keep them out of sight, but it doesn't really matter. Once the formal dinner is over and the dancing has started, people start drifting over to them -- first the boy in the wheelchair (Mr. Abrams, his dad calls him, but he tells Blaine that his name is Artie), then the blonde girl who'd twirled ribbons with Santana during Kurt's processional (she introduces herself as Brittany S. Pierce, then knocks on Blaine's hair and asks him if it's plastic), then a tall boy named Mike and a girl named Tina. They're not really there for Blaine; they're there for his dad, who looks simultaneously baffled and pleased in a way that makes something warm spread all through Blaine's chest. His dad's always been a little self-conscious as a teacher; it's just good to see his students flock to him, tell him that he's missed, that they can't wait until he's back, that they worked out a secret handshake while he was gone and they need him to see it right now. It's just... It's good.
And he's leaning back in his chair, watching his father obediently clap his hands, cross his arms, pat his elbows, and then push his glasses up his nose ("Not bad," Artie tells him, "but you gotta get a little more funk into it,") when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looks up, and sees Mercedes smiling at him.
"Hey," he says, grinning up at her. "You were... You guys were great up there. All of you. Really, I... I wish I could have been up there with you." Because he does, kind of -- he's been singing a little bit, mostly when he and Kurt were working out the set list for the reception (Kurt was having a hard time thinking of any waltzes; Blaine knows dozens), but it's not the same. He misses it, not just the singing but the dancing, too, and the being part of a group, and... All of it. He misses all of it.
"You still could," Mercedes says, holding out her hand. "If you wanted."
Blaine glances up at the stage, where Finn's girlfriend is currently belting out a stunning rendition of "My Heart Will Go On," and even though part of him is tempted, there's a sudden coldness in the pit of his stomach. "I..." he says, palms sweating, and quickly shakes his head. "No, I couldn't... Kurt spent ages on the set list; I wouldn't want to mess it up, he..."
"He wouldn't mind," Mercedes says, but when Blaine doesn't answer, she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But you will dance with me. No arguing."
"But I --" Blaine glances down at his leg, and then back up at her.
Artie makes a disdainful noise behind his back. "Please," he says. "Like you need two legs to dance."
"Coach Sylvester wanted us to do an entire routine on our hands once," Brittany chimes in. "But everyone got a headrush like thirty seconds in, and we all fainted. The nurse thought I had a concussion, but Coach Sylvester told her that was just how I always talk."
Blaine's father raises his eyebrow, but says nothing.
Mercedes clears her throat; when Blaine looks back at her, she crooks her fingers in a beckoning gesture. "Look," she says, glancing over her shoulder at the dance floor. Finn's holding his mom's hands and sort of swaying back and forth -- it's weird how he manages to make even that look awkward, but somehow he does. "You can't be any worse than that. So. Come on. No excuses, and no arguing."
"I..." Blaine glances down at his injured leg one more time, then takes a deep breath and reaches out for Mercedes's hand. "Okay," he says. "Um. Help me up?"
They make their slow, unsteady way towards the dance floor, Blaine trying not to lean too heavily on Mercedes and utterly failing; fortunately for the both of them, she's kind of ridiculously strong. Even so, the song is over by the time they're actually in front of the stage, and there's an awkward moment where they just stand there, looking at each other. But then the band strikes up another tune (a country waltz, complete with slide guitar intro), and Blaine rests his hands on Mercedes's shoulders; she grips his waist, holding him steady, and they sway together, gently. It's... It's nice, in a way Blaine wasn't expecting, and he can't help the smile that breaks across his face, wide and unfamiliar and good.
Mercedes smiles back at him. "I wanted to thank you," she says, leaning in a little, raising her voice so she can be heard over the music. "Not just for... Well, you know, but for... For everything, I guess."
Blaine flushes, ducks his head; he knows what she's getting at, or he thinks he does, and he's not totally sure he should be praised for it. After all, nothing would have happened to Kurt at all if he hadn't --
"Look, just hear me out," she says, and her voice is just commanding enough that Blaine has to look at her. "I don't think you know... I mean, obviously you knew a little bit, or you wouldn't have been there for Kurt the way you were, but... He was struggling. Really struggling. And he had been for a long time. Way before you met him. And then there you were, and then there he was. Smiling again. Like he's supposed to. I don't know what you did, but... you helped him. You really did."
"And then I almost got him killed," Blaine murmurs, turning away to glance up at the stage, where Santana is crooning into the microphone, her eyes on him the entire time.
Only you know how much I have lost, she sings, and Blaine wonders why, out of all the waltzes he sang for Kurt, Kurt had to choose this one.
"Karofsky almost got him killed," Mercedes says, squeezing his sides a little bit. "You saved him. That's what you did. And don't you dare feel bad about it, or I will let you fall right here in the middle of this dance floor."
"I..." Blaine looks up again, just in time to see his father sweeping onto the dance floor with Carole, and that's why Kurt chose this song, he realizes. Because Blaine mentioned that it was his father's favorite, and Kurt remembered, because Kurt always remembers things like that. And because Kurt thinks that Blaine saved him, too, and so he does these things for him, and even if Blaine doesn't always think he deserves them, well. It doesn't help him to argue, it just upsets Kurt even more, and so he's learning to be grateful. Or, at least, he's trying.
"Okay," he says, again, and smiles at Mercedes. "I'll try."
She squeezes his sides a little, playfully. "You'd better do more than try," she tells him, reaching up with one hand to press her finger against his nose, and she laughs, and she doesn't drop him.
And he doesn't argue anymore, just lets her support him, and watches his father waltz across the floor with Carole, and lets the feeling of family wash over him again.
*
then
Ben retreats to the kitchen shortly before the end of the second movie; he is somewhat less than surprised when Finn joins him only minutes later, standing awkwardly in the doorway and watching him with wide, fearful eyes. Ben has to wonder what Finn would have done if Kurt hadn't shown up, how he would have handled Blaine then. He's relatively certain that With great power comes great responsibility would have been interestingly mangled, and he can't help but be simultaneously relieved and disappointed that that won't be necessary.
Kurt's voice drifts out from the living room, quiet but intense. "You saved my life, Blaine."
"But I -- I wouldn't have had to if I hadn't --"
Finn's voice, soft as it is, drowns out Blaine's stammering. "Can I ask you something?" When Ben glances up from his tea, he sees Finn creeping a little further into the kitchen, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Were you in love? You and Kurt's mom, I mean," he adds, after a second. "Were you in love with her?"
It's nothing Ben hasn't asked himself a thousand times, but that doesn't mean it's anything he can really answer. "We were very young, Finn," he explains, swirling the strainer in his mug, watching the water inside darken. "Younger than you boys are now. I don't think we were... I don't think we were ready for that sort of thing. Not at that age."
Finn blinks at him, looking perplexed. "Wait, how old were you?" he asks. "You never said, before."
"Didn't I?" Ben shrugs, swirls the strainer a little more. "I was twelve. When my father... when he sent me to live with the Hostiles."
It hits Finn harder than he would have expected; the boy goes a little pale, mutters "Jesus," under his breath, and shuffles over to the table to sink into a chair like he's not sure how much longer he can hold up his own weight.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," Blaine says, his voice a little plaintive. "Or your family -- I don't want them to --"
"I don't want them to either," Kurt replies, somehow almost cheerful. "Which is why I'm asking you to --"
"She looked for you, you know," Finn says, abruptly; Ben considers this, then quietly takes the strainer out of his mug, sets it on the saucer, and folds his hands, listening. "Kurt's mom. See, I heard Burt and my mom talking, this morning, and Burt was saying how she told him once that she went looking for you, once you disappeared. And he was saying that he guesses we finally found you. But I don't think that's true." He bites his lip, stares down at the table, then meets Ben's eyes squarely. "I think you found us."
Ben tips his head to the side, studying Finn -- he's surprisingly difficult to read. Admittedly, he does seem to function in a slightly different way than other people do; not unintelligent, just... a different kind of intelligence, perhaps. "I'm not sure I follow," Ben admits.
Finn takes a deep breath. "Look, I don't know if anyone told you, but this Karofsky thing..." He shakes his head. "It started way back, only no one really paid attention. I mean, Miss Pillsbury didn't, Mr. Schue didn't... I didn't, not really. And I think Burt would've, if he'd known, but Kurt doesn't really talk about these things, so he didn't -- But Kurt talks to Blaine. And Blaine talks to you. And you... You paid attention. And you helped him. You really did. And I don't even know if you knew who he was."
"That's --" Ben waves it off, shaking his head. "I can't take credit for that. If Kurt hadn't gone to Dalton, if Coach Sylvester hadn't told me that he was --"
"But that's just it," Finn says, leaning in. "Coach Sylvester knew, but she didn't do anything. You did. And, yeah, Kurt went to Dalton, but I don't think -- I think Blaine had to ask him. About what was happening. About Karofsky. And just... you guys... You really helped him. And I just think that you still could. But you have to be here, and we have to be here, or it won't work. Like Spiderman and M.J., you know?"
Ben studies Finn's earnest, innocent face a little bit longer, then sighs, sinks back in his chair, and watches steam rise from his mug.
"We're not the only ones in danger, you know," Kurt says, his voice just barely audible. "And I... I know you don't want to see me get hurt, Blaine. I just... I want to know why you think it'd be any easier for me if anything happened to you."
Ben swallows hard. She looked for you, he thinks. Kurt is a good deal like his mother, after all. But he's also a good deal like his father; he has the same impulsiveness, the same tenacity. And he's older than Annie was -- he has a car, and access to a great many things that she never had. He might very well succeed where she had failed, given the opportunity.
"I still have to talk to your parents," Ben reminds Finn, a little sternly. "And in the end, it's... I told Blaine it would be his choice, and I'm going to keep that promise."
Finn nods solemnly, but he's smiling, just a little bit. "I wouldn't worry about my parents," he says. "I think they... And, I mean, I know I don't know Blaine all that well, but I also know... You would have stayed for her, if you could. Kurt's mom, I mean. You would have stayed for her, so."
There is nothing Ben can say to that; he watches the steam rise from his tea, and he hears Kurt's voice, soft and a little choked with tears, saying "Please, Blaine," and he doesn't hear Blaine's answer, but he supposes it doesn't really matter.
Were you in love? Finn asked. And, truthfully, he doesn't think he was. He was very fond of Annie, and she was fond of him, and it could have been a certain, childish kind of love. But Blaine and Kurt are older. They feel things differently. It could be...
It very well could be.
He sighs and takes a sip of his tea. "Well," he says, quietly. "Out of curiosity, Finn, have you ever even held a gun?"
*
now
He sits in his bed, propped up on a stack of pillows, and watches Kurt fuss with the sheets on the air mattress by the dresser, getting them just so. "You really don't have to --" he says, and Kurt waves his hand dismissively.
"We've been over this, Blaine," he says, with a sigh. "You're not sleeping on the floor. Your father is not sleeping on the floor. And Finn has to stay on the pull-out couch in the living room, because he snores and I'm not subjecting either of you to that." He shrugs, the faintest of smiles playing across his face. "And I'm not subjecting myself to it, either. Trust me. I just organized a very successful wedding, and a small-scale honeymoon for the newleyweds. I think I can handle a sleepover."
Blaine smiles at him; he can't help it. There's just... having Kurt there, there's something about it that makes him feel... He's not totally sure what, yet. It's a little like that family feeling from the wedding, that home feeling, but a little different, too. A little nervous and fizzy and excited, but still sort of safe. "Kurt?" he asks, and waits for Kurt to finish straightening his pillow and actually look at him before he meets Kurt's eyes and says "Thank you."
Kurt tilts his head to the side, curiously, watching Blaine like he doesn't quite understand. "Thank you for what?" he asks.
Blaine just shrugs. "Everything."
The little shocked, pleased expression on Kurt's face is something Blaine wants to see forever. Then it settles into a smile, something soft and contemplative, and Kurt pushes himself up off the floor, crosses over to Blaine's bed, sits down next to him. "You're welcome," he says, quietly, and pats Blaine's hand. When he goes to pull away again, Blaine catches his fingers and holds on.
"Just..." he whispers, and doesn't look at Kurt, but doesn't let go of him, either. "Just for a second."
"Okay," Kurt says, quietly, and settles in a little closer, close enough that if he wanted to, Blaine could rest his head on Kurt's shoulder. He feels like that's maybe too much for right now, so he doesn't, but it's nice to know that he could. If he wanted to. "Blaine?" Kurt asks.
"Yeah?"
Kurt sighs and squeezes his hand. "I'm really glad you're staying. I know that you're scared, and I know it's hard, and I just -- I'm really glad that you decided to do this. To stay."
Blaine nods, biting his lip. "Yeah," he says again. "Yeah, I am too."
And the thing is, he almost feels as though he shouldn't want it to be true, because he still thinks it's selfish and he still thinks that it could -- But he is glad, even if he shouldn't be. Here, in this moment, he is so, so glad.
Kurt shifts even closer and rests his head on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine swallows hard, feeling that fizzy nervousness growing in his stomach. "I have to brush my teeth," Kurt murmurs, snuggling in a little bit. "And I've got my skincare routine. Don't let me forget it."
"I won't," Blaine promises, and tips his head down so that his temple is pressed against the softness of Kurt's hair, and closes his eyes.
Needless to say, he doesn't remind Kurt to go brush his teeth.
NOTE: For those unfamiliar with the Spider-Man films (or for those not well-versed in Finn Logic), Finn was trying to make a point about what would and would not keep Kurt safe. At the end of the first Spider-Man, Peter (who is Blaine) leaves his girlfriend Mary Jane (who is Kurt), believing that she will be in danger as long as he's around. By the end of the second film, however, he's realized that she'll be in danger no matter what, and that if he's around, he can at least try to protect her, instead of leaving her at perpetual risk of being kidnapped by super-villains with absolutely no way to defend herself. Blaine believes that staying in Kurt's life will put him in danger; Finn's argument is that Kurt was already in danger, and Blaine's (and Ben's) continued presence is the only thing that will keep him safe.
Kurt calls this "The Spiderman Paradox."
Pairing/Character(s): Ben Linus Anderson, Blaine Anderson, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Artie Abrams, Brittany S. Pierce, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang (Santana Lopez and Will Schuester briefly).
Rating: PG (for this chapter)
Warnings: Finn logic.
Word Count: A little over 7,000
Spoilers: Potential spoilers (kind of) for all six seasons of LOST, and up to and through Glee 2X08, "Furt."
Standard-Issue Short-Form Disclaimer: I do not hold copyright to Glee or LOST, I make no claims to such, and I am not profiting from this. The song referenced in this chapter is "Tennessee Waltz," by Patti Page (although Ben's favorite is, of course, the Patsy Cline version.)
Summary: In which Finn explains his decision with some help from Tobey Maguire and Marvel Comics (and Kurt), and Ben and Blaine do a few things that they have never done before.
Author's Notes: This is a Glee/LOST AU crossover. Fic is a work in progress, but I do have a substantial backlog of chapters to post while I work on the newest ones. I hope to post once a week, on Sundays, barring fire, flood, corset-related disasters, and/or LJ outages. NOTE: This fic will be going on a four-week hiatus after Chapter 20, so I can get a good head-start on the more LOST-centric second section. There will be NO new chapters posted April 15 - May 6. After that, posting will resume on Sundays as normal.
Previous chapters and supplemental materials can be found on the masterpost (which has finally been updated. Sorry I'm a slacker).
I do realize that this is a shift in tone from the last two chapters, and it is April 1st in my time zone, but I swear to God this is not a prank. I swear to God.
now
Blaine fidgets on the sofa, adjusts his suit coat, smooths down his trousers, drums his hands against his uninjured thigh, glances back over his shoulder in the general direction of his father's room.
"Dad?" he calls.
"In a second," his father replies, voice a little quiet, a little distant. Preoccupied.
Blaine sighs, reaches up to make sure his collar hasn't flipped up since the last time he checked it (it hasn't), runs his hands over his hair to make sure it's in place (it is). "Dad, we're going to be late!"
"I said just a second, Blaine!"
Blaine sighs again.
It's not just that he hasn't really been out of the house for a week (although he hasn't, really, apart from trips out to see his physical therapist, which aren't exactly fun.) It's just... He's never been to a wedding before, is the thing, and although Kurt's told him time and time again that the most important thing is that he shows up at all... He really, really doesn't want to be late.
"Dad, just let me do it for you," he calls out, his voice sounding a little more pleading, a little less nonchalant, than he wants it to. But maybe that's for the best, because after a few seconds, his father finally emerges from his bedroom, in his nice suit, with his nice new tie hanging loosely around his neck.
"Is this the part where I remind you that I spent most of my life on a tropical island in the South Pacific?" his dad asks, crouching obediently by the sofa. "One, I might add, that didn't have any particular dress code."
Blaine tsks at him a little bit, reaching out to adjust the tie, pulling the wide end down. His dad never pulls the wide end down far enough; that's half the problem. "We've been back on the mainland for ten years, Dad," he points out. "Plenty of time to learn how to tie a tie."
His father rolls his eyes as Blaine leans in. Cross the wide end in front, then wrap it around and behind... "Yes," he says, dryly, holding still and letting Blaine work. "Because it's not like I've had any other priorities."
"Don't be that way," Blaine scolds, and wraps the wide end around again, bringing it up to finish off the last loop. "Anyway, it's easy. You could learn it in like, ten minutes. If you wanted to."
"Well, that's just the thing, Blaine," his father says, mildly; Blaine finishes the knot and tightens it carefully, leaving it a little looser than he would if it was for himself. His dad tends to get cranky when his ties are too tight. "Apparently I can't." But he smiles as Blaine pulls back, studying him critically. "I guess you're just smarter than me."
Blaine reaches up and pats his dad's freshly-shaven cheek. "Well," he says. "At least you look good. And that's the important thing."
His father raises an eyebrow at him. "You'll be the brains, and I'll be the beauty?" he asks.
Blaine's grin widens. "Something like that," he says. His grin only falters a little bit as his dad rocks back on his heels, reaching out for the arm of the sofa and using it to very, very carefully lever himself up to standing. Blaine's not totally sure, but it seems like every time, it's a little bit harder for his dad to push himself back up to his feet again. He thinks that, more than anything, that's why he changed his mind. Because it's getting harder for his dad.
But he doesn't say anything about it, just stands up, most of his weight on his good leg, and reaches out for his crutches. His dad passes them over, watching him intently, and doesn't interfere. "Okay," Blaine says, getting himself settled and stable on his crutches. "Are we ready?"
"Yes," his father says, quietly. "Yes, I think so."
*
then
Finn Hudson knocks on Ben's door a little bit after eleven am on Saturday morning. It isn't shocking, not exactly, but it does leave Ben a little nonplussed. Particularly when he looks past Finn's shoulder and realizes that Kurt is nowhere in sight.
"I... uh... I kind of asked Kurt to stay home," Finn says, sheepishly. "I mean, he wanted to come, and I actually kind of felt bad asking him to stay and everything, because he really did want to, but I... um... I dunno, it's just... It seemed important, I guess. That it was just me, and not... you know. That I'm doing this for me, and not, like, just going along with whatever he says. Because I wouldn't do that. I mean, I guess sometimes I kind of would, if it's, like, clothes or stuff, but... this is, like, important, and I just... It's just really important that I... um, that I do this. For me."
"Oh," Ben says, bemused. Then, remembering his manners, he adds, "Won't you come in."
Finn shuffles into the house, pausing just inside the door to set down the plastic grocery bag he's carrying and kick off his sneakers. Ben glances over at his son, once again ensconced on the couch -- he's wearing his own Dalton Warblers sweatshirt, but the snap-up pants are still Finn's; they've been awfully convenient when it's time for bandage changes, and at the moment, convenience trumps nearly everything else. "Um," Blaine says, openly staring as Finn shrugs off his jacket. "Hi. Finn."
"Hey, Blaine," Finn says, and picks up his bag again. "I. Um. My girlfriend, Rachel, she... She made these, for you." He reaches into the bag and holds out a plastic container. "They're 'Get Well' cookies? She said that they were kind of the same as her 'I'm Sorry' cookies, only with more flaxseed oil. So they're... you know. Healthier."
"Great," Blaine manages, after a few seconds. He reaches out, and Finn passes the cookies over into his hands. "Thanks, Finn. And... you know, if you could thank your girlfriend for me, that would --"
"Oh, yeah," Finn says, quickly. "Yeah, no, sure. Totally."
"Thanks," Blaine says again. There is a long, incredibly awkward pause, and then Blaine tips his head to the side and asks, "So... is that... Is that what you needed to do? Just... the cookies?"
"No," Finn says. "Well, I mean, yes and then no? Because, I mean, obviously, Rachel asked me to bring the cookies, so... Um... But then I was also... See Kurt and I were talking, last night, about... about everything, and I kind of started to wonder if... um... See, the thing is, I..." Finn gnaws on his lip for a second, shifts his plastic bag from one hand to the other. "Did you guys... Did you guys ever watch the... um... Did you ever watch the Spider-Man movies?"
Ben looks at his son, bewildered, and Blaine stares back at him, and for several long seconds, neither of them can say anything at all.
"It's..." Blaine says, eyebrows still drawn together. "It's been a while." His voice goes up at the end, almost like it's a question. Ben supposes that it probably is.
"Okay," Finn says, and holds up the bag, shaking it. The plastic is thin enough that Ben can see the outline of two DVD cases through it. It's enough to let him know where this is going, but the why of it all continues to elude him. "Okay, cool, because I have them, so we can... You know. We can refresh your memory."
Blaine just blinks at him. "And this is... This is why you're here," he says, voice still questioning. "Without Kurt. To remind me of Spiderman."
Finn nods eagerly. "Yeah," he says, sounding peculiarly thrilled by that. "Yeah, exactly. See, I knew you'd get it."
"I..." Blaine looks at his father, his face almost cartoonishly bewildered. All Ben can do is sigh.
"Have a seat, Finn," he says, gesturing at the couch. "I'll get you something to drink."
*
now
Kurt offered them seats in the very front, with his aunt and Finn's grandparents, but Blaine insisted on the back row. Mostly because it's awkward, with the crutches, and he knows how much running around the New Directions are going to be doing in their first song ("the processional," Kurt calls it), and he doesn't want to trip anyone. But also because... Just because.
Because some of the Glee kids (no one he knows, just some of them) were hanging around outside the chapel before he entered, and they looked at him, and no one did more than wave at him or smile, but still, it was weird. Because Mr. Schuester was glancing over his shoulder at the doors as Blaine and his father were ushered to their seats, and the moment he saw them, he stood up, made his way over to where they were sitting, gave Blaine's father an "It's so good to see you again," and gave Blaine an "I'm glad to finally meet you under... under better circumstances." Because as Mr. Schuester talked, Blaine looked past him and saw even more people, people he didn't know and couldn't place, watching them curiously.
Because Blaine saw his own picture in the Saturday paper -- just a little one, last year's yearbook photo with his Dalton blazer on and his hair slicked down and the sort of tense smile he always had back then -- next to an article about the shooting at McKinley. It wasn't on the front page, at least, but it wasn't on the last, either -- it was on the third, underneath the headline New Details Emerge About McKinley High Shooting, captioned Blaine Anderson, 16, was injured while trying to disarm the gunman. And while it was a small picture, and at least it wasn't on the front page (or worse, on the Channel 8 news), it's still attention, and not the right kind. He hasn't been out of the house a whole lot since the shooting -- just for physical therapy, really -- but he can still see the effect that it's had. People look at him: when his dad helps him out of the car, when they make their way into the hospital, even when he's in the PT room going through another endless, painful set of lunges. They notice him, now. They see.
And maybe it's not that much different from the Warblers, but then again, it kind of is. Because yes, he's been up front and at center, out where people could see him. But at the same time, there were still the Warblers behind him, all in their identical blazers and ties and khakis, and he always knew that if he wanted to, he could step back into the crowd on the risers, and blend in, and become invisible.
He can't do that now, and it scares him. It makes him want to hide his face in his father's shoulder; it makes him want to run away and never come back. It makes him want to leave -- not just the church, but the city, the state. Maybe even the country, if it comes to that. He wants to go somewhere where no one knows who he is, somewhere where he's invisible. Somewhere where he's safe.
But then someone's hissing at him from the chapel doors, and when he looks back, he sees Kurt, beaming at him. And just like that, his face lightens -- he doesn't even think about it, it just happens, like if Kurt's smiling then he has to smile too. Like he doesn't even really know how to do otherwise. And then Finn is leaning over Kurt's shoulder, and he waves, and Blaine waves back. And he doesn't want to run anymore, not really. He wants to stay. He really does.
It's just...
It's so strange, actually being here. This is the hall he helped Kurt pick out (Unitarian Universalist, because they figured it'd either make everyone happy or make them all mad, but either way, everyone would feel the same about it). These are the flowers they decided on, together. And when the music starts, and the members of New Directions start dancing their way down the aisles, Blaine realizes that even if Kurt wasn't able to get all the girls into the same dress, they're all at least wearing the same color, and what's most amazing is that it flatters all of them. And Kurt did that. Somehow, he did that.
(And if it makes Blaine think about the McKinley home ec room, and the wall of fabric, and one particular bolt of red calico sticking out a little further than the rest, if it makes him remember a different shade of red, one that stained his hands and stained the tiles and stained Kurt's jeans and Santana's white Nikes, if it makes him remember --)
It's only for a moment, and then Kurt's friend Mercedes is patting him fondly on the cheek before Kurt starts twirling her up the aisle, and then Santana hesitates for just a second and gives him the smallest of smiles before chasing after the boy with the mohawk, and it's not like he forgets again, because he doesn't. Because he can't. But at the same time, there's something... There's something different. Something he's never really felt before, and doesn't have a name for.
But he likes it. He thinks.
Then Burt appears, dancing his way up the aisle in the most amazingly ridiculous manner ever. And Carole follows after, in a dress that's not quite the one he and Kurt would have chosen, but is as close as they could come in such a limited timeframe, and she's so beautiful -- no glitter, no rhinestones, no shiny embroidery, just her. And then they're together at the pulpit, with Kurt and Finn on either side of them, and the members of Kurt's glee club lined up on the steps, and for some reason, Blaine is blinking back tears before the pastor even says a word. He's not entirely sure just why. It's just... he's never seen anything like this before. And he doesn't even know what it is, not really, but whatever it is, it takes his breath away.
The pastor makes a joke about young wedding planners and people falling asleep, and people laugh. Even Blaine's father chuckles, but Blaine can't; he's too busy trying not to cry. And then the pastor says something else, says that Burt and Carole are going to explain why everyone's here, and when Burt turns to face the audience, his eyes focus on Ben and Blaine, safely hidden in the back, and Blaine's breath catches in his throat, because he's not totally sure what Burt's going to say and he's a little scared of it.
"So, I don't know if any of you guys heard about this," Burt says, "but... uh... But we've had kind of a rough week, here, actually. With Kurt, and what happened at the school, and everything... Well. Like I said, it's been a little rough."
There's a pause, and Blaine sees his father reach for something in his inside jacket pocket; he's not surprised when it turns out to be a small packet of tissues. His father holds it out, and he takes it, and when his father leaves his hand outstretched, Blaine takes that too, squeezing tightly.
(it always helps, holding his father's hand.)
"The thing is," Burt says, and reaches out, and Carole wraps both her small hands around one of his, "when you think about starting a new family, you don't always think about how hard it's going to be. You think about the joy, and the celebration, but you never think about all the things you're gonna go through after that, and whether you're gonna be able to trust this person, and whether they're gonna be able to carry you through. And... And the way it worked out, with us, I don't have to wonder anymore. I know.
"I have struggled more in this last week than I have..." He shakes his head, and Blaine fumbles one of the tissues out of the packet, because that's his fault; he's made them struggle, and it just feels -- "More than I have for a long time. And I have had so many questions and so many doubts, and every single time I thought that I just... Every time I thought I couldn't, I looked to Carole, and I realized that I could. Because she was with me.
"You are..." He turns to face her, and Blaine wipes at his eyes, still clinging tightly to his father's hand, because even underneath the guilt, there's still that feeling. Like there's more than just dread, this time, more than just fear and mistrust. That there's something else, and maybe it's not there because of him, but it's there for him. If he wants it to be. "You are everything, Carole. You are so smart, and so strong, and so... so loving, and you just... You are everything, Carole, and I will love you until the day I die."
There's a little pause, and Blaine looks over at his father, sees him smiling, just a little bit. And that something else that Blaine is feeling, that he's been feeling since Kurt smiled and Finn waved and Mercedes patted him on the cheek -- It's in his father's smile, somehow. And Blaine still doesn't really have a name for it, but when he scoots closer to his father, leans his head on his father's shoulder and feels his father's arm settling around him, it's there, right there, close enough that he can feel the warmth of it.
(sometimes he thinks that was the hardest thing -- when he was with tom and his father was in that room, when his father was gone. blaine could see him, he could be with him, but he couldn't touch him.)
(he couldn't hold his father's hand.)
"When I met Burt," Carole says, smiling up at him, still holding one of his big hands with both of hers. "I remember a few of my co-workers told me to be careful, because I wasn't just getting a man, I was getting... Getting his family, too. And I remember thinking Good, because that was exactly what I wanted." She turns her head, just for a second, and smiles at Ben and Blaine all the way in the back row, and Blaine thinks, Oh. "And it still is. And I am so proud to be a part of this family."
Family. Blaine repeats the word in his head, over and over again. Family. Family. Family.
Carole lets go of Burt's hand with one of hers, reaches out for Finn's; he reaches back, holds on tightly. "Finn, you are... You really are a man, now, and you have been so... wonderful, through all of this, and such a good brother to Kurt. And Kurt --" Burt and Finn reach out simultaneously, the four of them linking up like a chain, and Blaine's chest is so tight, watching them, the lump in his throat is just so big. Family. "You could not be any braver or more compassionate, and I am so lucky to get to call you my son, and I am so lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with the man who taught you how to be that compassionate, to get to love someone with... with such a big, warm, strong heart. I am just so... I am so lucky that you are my family. You are exactly what I wanted, and I am just so... so grateful. To have all of you in my life."
She looks up again, at Ben and Blaine, and then Finn looks over too, and then if anyone else does Blaine can't see it, because he tucks his head into his father's shoulder, overwhelmed. Because this is what he's feeling; he gets it now, and it's so -- He can't understand it, how this could be for him, how he could have this.
So he hides his face until the priest tries to read the vows, and Burt and Carole both interrupt him, and then he glances up just in time to see them kissing, and they look so happy, and then everyone's standing up and cheering, but his dad stays sitting right next to him, one arm wrapped around him, the other patting at his thigh in a sort of approximation of applause.
And Blaine claps too, as hard as he can, the packet of Kleenex dropping to the floor at his feet even though he's vaguely aware that he's still crying.
Family, he thinks again, for no real reason, and when he sees Kurt looking at him, he keeps his head up and looks right back.
(and when he finally got to see his father again, when his father had eaten all of the banana and blaine had praised him and his father had actually smiled -- his lips so dry and cracked that they bled, a little, when he stretched them upwards -- blaine dropped the banana peel to the floor and reached out and clung to his father's hand with both of his own.)
(and his father squeezed his hand, and kept smiling.)
(and it didn't matter where they were, because they were together, and blaine could hold his father's hand again, and he knew that he was home.)
*
then
Kurt shows up at the end of the first movie, while Peter and Mary Jane are still in the cemetary, talking. "Mr. Anderson," he says, almost as soon as the door is opened. "Hi. I was wondering if..."
"Kurt!" Blaine calls happily, from the couch. Ben turns and sees his son peering eagerly at the door, his face alight, even as Finn slouches into himself. "Finn said you weren't coming."
"Well," Kurt says, lightly; Ben steps out of the way without a word, and Kurt slips into the house. "I don't think Finn realizes just how much I like Spiderman. Besides, I heard that he brought cookies, so."
Blaine holds up the plastic container, shakes it in what might possibly be some kind of invitation; Ben can't help but notice that it's still mostly full. "They have flaxseed oil," Blaine says, because apparently that's as close as he can come to a compliment. "It's... It's healthy."
"I'll bet it is," Kurt says, sliding out of his loafers and padding over to the sofa. Finn slinks down the cushions without being asked, leaving Kurt with enough room to slip in between them, a little closer to Blaine than he is to Finn. Almost as soon as he's settled, Blaine is shifting closer.
"I didn't think you would come," Blaine says again, a little more subdued, but still happy in a way that he usually isn't, and Ben is torn between a sort of pleased recognition and then a sort of alarm as well. He prides himself on his ability to prepare for all outcomes, but this... He has no idea how to deal with this. He supposes that, to a certain extent, he's meant to just let it happen.
Kurt just shrugs, his shoulder brushing against Blaine's. "Well," he says again. "I mean, I wasn't going to, because I really don't want to steal Finn's thunder, or anything, and it was his idea. But I guess..." He tears his eyes away from Blaine and glances at Finn, still huddled in on himself at the end of the couch. "I guess it's just such a good idea that I couldn't resist, in the end."
Finn doesn't say anything to that, but he straightens up a little in his seat, and while Ben still isn't ready for any of this, he's a little comforted to remember just how kind Kurt can be. Not, of course, that he can say that out loud. So he slips into the kitchen instead -- there's Diet Coke in the fridge, has been since the first time Kurt visited them. And if nothing else, it'll be something for Kurt to hold in his hands when he's nervous.
Not that he has a particular reason to believe that Kurt's going to be nervous, but. Well.
When he comes back out, Kurt and Blaine are talking in low voices. "I don't understand," Blaine murmurs. "How is this a metaphor?"
The tips of Finn's ears are bright red; his arms are folded, and Ben can't help but feel a little bad for him. Whatever the boys are talking about, it's obviously made him defensive again. "You'll see," Kurt says. "Just remember. You're Peter Parker, and I'm Mary Jane."
"You're Mary Jane?" Blaine repeats, bewildered. "But Kurt, you're not..."
Kurt shrugs. "It's not the most literally accurate of metaphors," he admits. "But I think I'm warming up to it. And admittedly, I would probably look good as a redhead."
Blaine studies him for a second, until Ben reaches over the back of the couch and passes Kurt his drink. Then he looks up at his father, tilts his head to the side, and grins. "So, if I'm Peter Parker," he says, something a little mischievous in his eyes, "would that make my dad Aunt May?"
"Watch it," Ben says, chiding, but there's no heat behind it, and he's still smiling a little bit too as he returns to his seat.
It doesn't last long.
They restart the movie -- Peter leaves Mary Jane in the cemetary, and Ben thinks about what Kurt said, You're Peter Parker and I'm Mary Jane, and he glances over at Blaine. His eyebrows are drawn together again, and there's something... something almost hurt in his expression. "Kurt," he says, wounded, and Kurt shakes his head, shushing him.
"We have to watch the second movie," he says. "It all hinges on the second movie."
Finn watches the two of them as the credits start to roll; he waits until Blaine nods and sinks back into the couch cushions, leaning into Kurt a little bit more. Then and only then does he go to change the DVD.
*
now
They're still in the back for the reception, still a little hidden, and Blaine almost wishes he hadn't insisted quite so hard that Kurt keep them out of sight, but it doesn't really matter. Once the formal dinner is over and the dancing has started, people start drifting over to them -- first the boy in the wheelchair (Mr. Abrams, his dad calls him, but he tells Blaine that his name is Artie), then the blonde girl who'd twirled ribbons with Santana during Kurt's processional (she introduces herself as Brittany S. Pierce, then knocks on Blaine's hair and asks him if it's plastic), then a tall boy named Mike and a girl named Tina. They're not really there for Blaine; they're there for his dad, who looks simultaneously baffled and pleased in a way that makes something warm spread all through Blaine's chest. His dad's always been a little self-conscious as a teacher; it's just good to see his students flock to him, tell him that he's missed, that they can't wait until he's back, that they worked out a secret handshake while he was gone and they need him to see it right now. It's just... It's good.
And he's leaning back in his chair, watching his father obediently clap his hands, cross his arms, pat his elbows, and then push his glasses up his nose ("Not bad," Artie tells him, "but you gotta get a little more funk into it,") when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looks up, and sees Mercedes smiling at him.
"Hey," he says, grinning up at her. "You were... You guys were great up there. All of you. Really, I... I wish I could have been up there with you." Because he does, kind of -- he's been singing a little bit, mostly when he and Kurt were working out the set list for the reception (Kurt was having a hard time thinking of any waltzes; Blaine knows dozens), but it's not the same. He misses it, not just the singing but the dancing, too, and the being part of a group, and... All of it. He misses all of it.
"You still could," Mercedes says, holding out her hand. "If you wanted."
Blaine glances up at the stage, where Finn's girlfriend is currently belting out a stunning rendition of "My Heart Will Go On," and even though part of him is tempted, there's a sudden coldness in the pit of his stomach. "I..." he says, palms sweating, and quickly shakes his head. "No, I couldn't... Kurt spent ages on the set list; I wouldn't want to mess it up, he..."
"He wouldn't mind," Mercedes says, but when Blaine doesn't answer, she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But you will dance with me. No arguing."
"But I --" Blaine glances down at his leg, and then back up at her.
Artie makes a disdainful noise behind his back. "Please," he says. "Like you need two legs to dance."
"Coach Sylvester wanted us to do an entire routine on our hands once," Brittany chimes in. "But everyone got a headrush like thirty seconds in, and we all fainted. The nurse thought I had a concussion, but Coach Sylvester told her that was just how I always talk."
Blaine's father raises his eyebrow, but says nothing.
Mercedes clears her throat; when Blaine looks back at her, she crooks her fingers in a beckoning gesture. "Look," she says, glancing over her shoulder at the dance floor. Finn's holding his mom's hands and sort of swaying back and forth -- it's weird how he manages to make even that look awkward, but somehow he does. "You can't be any worse than that. So. Come on. No excuses, and no arguing."
"I..." Blaine glances down at his injured leg one more time, then takes a deep breath and reaches out for Mercedes's hand. "Okay," he says. "Um. Help me up?"
They make their slow, unsteady way towards the dance floor, Blaine trying not to lean too heavily on Mercedes and utterly failing; fortunately for the both of them, she's kind of ridiculously strong. Even so, the song is over by the time they're actually in front of the stage, and there's an awkward moment where they just stand there, looking at each other. But then the band strikes up another tune (a country waltz, complete with slide guitar intro), and Blaine rests his hands on Mercedes's shoulders; she grips his waist, holding him steady, and they sway together, gently. It's... It's nice, in a way Blaine wasn't expecting, and he can't help the smile that breaks across his face, wide and unfamiliar and good.
Mercedes smiles back at him. "I wanted to thank you," she says, leaning in a little, raising her voice so she can be heard over the music. "Not just for... Well, you know, but for... For everything, I guess."
Blaine flushes, ducks his head; he knows what she's getting at, or he thinks he does, and he's not totally sure he should be praised for it. After all, nothing would have happened to Kurt at all if he hadn't --
"Look, just hear me out," she says, and her voice is just commanding enough that Blaine has to look at her. "I don't think you know... I mean, obviously you knew a little bit, or you wouldn't have been there for Kurt the way you were, but... He was struggling. Really struggling. And he had been for a long time. Way before you met him. And then there you were, and then there he was. Smiling again. Like he's supposed to. I don't know what you did, but... you helped him. You really did."
"And then I almost got him killed," Blaine murmurs, turning away to glance up at the stage, where Santana is crooning into the microphone, her eyes on him the entire time.
Only you know how much I have lost, she sings, and Blaine wonders why, out of all the waltzes he sang for Kurt, Kurt had to choose this one.
"Karofsky almost got him killed," Mercedes says, squeezing his sides a little bit. "You saved him. That's what you did. And don't you dare feel bad about it, or I will let you fall right here in the middle of this dance floor."
"I..." Blaine looks up again, just in time to see his father sweeping onto the dance floor with Carole, and that's why Kurt chose this song, he realizes. Because Blaine mentioned that it was his father's favorite, and Kurt remembered, because Kurt always remembers things like that. And because Kurt thinks that Blaine saved him, too, and so he does these things for him, and even if Blaine doesn't always think he deserves them, well. It doesn't help him to argue, it just upsets Kurt even more, and so he's learning to be grateful. Or, at least, he's trying.
"Okay," he says, again, and smiles at Mercedes. "I'll try."
She squeezes his sides a little, playfully. "You'd better do more than try," she tells him, reaching up with one hand to press her finger against his nose, and she laughs, and she doesn't drop him.
And he doesn't argue anymore, just lets her support him, and watches his father waltz across the floor with Carole, and lets the feeling of family wash over him again.
*
then
Ben retreats to the kitchen shortly before the end of the second movie; he is somewhat less than surprised when Finn joins him only minutes later, standing awkwardly in the doorway and watching him with wide, fearful eyes. Ben has to wonder what Finn would have done if Kurt hadn't shown up, how he would have handled Blaine then. He's relatively certain that With great power comes great responsibility would have been interestingly mangled, and he can't help but be simultaneously relieved and disappointed that that won't be necessary.
Kurt's voice drifts out from the living room, quiet but intense. "You saved my life, Blaine."
"But I -- I wouldn't have had to if I hadn't --"
Finn's voice, soft as it is, drowns out Blaine's stammering. "Can I ask you something?" When Ben glances up from his tea, he sees Finn creeping a little further into the kitchen, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Were you in love? You and Kurt's mom, I mean," he adds, after a second. "Were you in love with her?"
It's nothing Ben hasn't asked himself a thousand times, but that doesn't mean it's anything he can really answer. "We were very young, Finn," he explains, swirling the strainer in his mug, watching the water inside darken. "Younger than you boys are now. I don't think we were... I don't think we were ready for that sort of thing. Not at that age."
Finn blinks at him, looking perplexed. "Wait, how old were you?" he asks. "You never said, before."
"Didn't I?" Ben shrugs, swirls the strainer a little more. "I was twelve. When my father... when he sent me to live with the Hostiles."
It hits Finn harder than he would have expected; the boy goes a little pale, mutters "Jesus," under his breath, and shuffles over to the table to sink into a chair like he's not sure how much longer he can hold up his own weight.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," Blaine says, his voice a little plaintive. "Or your family -- I don't want them to --"
"I don't want them to either," Kurt replies, somehow almost cheerful. "Which is why I'm asking you to --"
"She looked for you, you know," Finn says, abruptly; Ben considers this, then quietly takes the strainer out of his mug, sets it on the saucer, and folds his hands, listening. "Kurt's mom. See, I heard Burt and my mom talking, this morning, and Burt was saying how she told him once that she went looking for you, once you disappeared. And he was saying that he guesses we finally found you. But I don't think that's true." He bites his lip, stares down at the table, then meets Ben's eyes squarely. "I think you found us."
Ben tips his head to the side, studying Finn -- he's surprisingly difficult to read. Admittedly, he does seem to function in a slightly different way than other people do; not unintelligent, just... a different kind of intelligence, perhaps. "I'm not sure I follow," Ben admits.
Finn takes a deep breath. "Look, I don't know if anyone told you, but this Karofsky thing..." He shakes his head. "It started way back, only no one really paid attention. I mean, Miss Pillsbury didn't, Mr. Schue didn't... I didn't, not really. And I think Burt would've, if he'd known, but Kurt doesn't really talk about these things, so he didn't -- But Kurt talks to Blaine. And Blaine talks to you. And you... You paid attention. And you helped him. You really did. And I don't even know if you knew who he was."
"That's --" Ben waves it off, shaking his head. "I can't take credit for that. If Kurt hadn't gone to Dalton, if Coach Sylvester hadn't told me that he was --"
"But that's just it," Finn says, leaning in. "Coach Sylvester knew, but she didn't do anything. You did. And, yeah, Kurt went to Dalton, but I don't think -- I think Blaine had to ask him. About what was happening. About Karofsky. And just... you guys... You really helped him. And I just think that you still could. But you have to be here, and we have to be here, or it won't work. Like Spiderman and M.J., you know?"
Ben studies Finn's earnest, innocent face a little bit longer, then sighs, sinks back in his chair, and watches steam rise from his mug.
"We're not the only ones in danger, you know," Kurt says, his voice just barely audible. "And I... I know you don't want to see me get hurt, Blaine. I just... I want to know why you think it'd be any easier for me if anything happened to you."
Ben swallows hard. She looked for you, he thinks. Kurt is a good deal like his mother, after all. But he's also a good deal like his father; he has the same impulsiveness, the same tenacity. And he's older than Annie was -- he has a car, and access to a great many things that she never had. He might very well succeed where she had failed, given the opportunity.
"I still have to talk to your parents," Ben reminds Finn, a little sternly. "And in the end, it's... I told Blaine it would be his choice, and I'm going to keep that promise."
Finn nods solemnly, but he's smiling, just a little bit. "I wouldn't worry about my parents," he says. "I think they... And, I mean, I know I don't know Blaine all that well, but I also know... You would have stayed for her, if you could. Kurt's mom, I mean. You would have stayed for her, so."
There is nothing Ben can say to that; he watches the steam rise from his tea, and he hears Kurt's voice, soft and a little choked with tears, saying "Please, Blaine," and he doesn't hear Blaine's answer, but he supposes it doesn't really matter.
Were you in love? Finn asked. And, truthfully, he doesn't think he was. He was very fond of Annie, and she was fond of him, and it could have been a certain, childish kind of love. But Blaine and Kurt are older. They feel things differently. It could be...
It very well could be.
He sighs and takes a sip of his tea. "Well," he says, quietly. "Out of curiosity, Finn, have you ever even held a gun?"
*
now
He sits in his bed, propped up on a stack of pillows, and watches Kurt fuss with the sheets on the air mattress by the dresser, getting them just so. "You really don't have to --" he says, and Kurt waves his hand dismissively.
"We've been over this, Blaine," he says, with a sigh. "You're not sleeping on the floor. Your father is not sleeping on the floor. And Finn has to stay on the pull-out couch in the living room, because he snores and I'm not subjecting either of you to that." He shrugs, the faintest of smiles playing across his face. "And I'm not subjecting myself to it, either. Trust me. I just organized a very successful wedding, and a small-scale honeymoon for the newleyweds. I think I can handle a sleepover."
Blaine smiles at him; he can't help it. There's just... having Kurt there, there's something about it that makes him feel... He's not totally sure what, yet. It's a little like that family feeling from the wedding, that home feeling, but a little different, too. A little nervous and fizzy and excited, but still sort of safe. "Kurt?" he asks, and waits for Kurt to finish straightening his pillow and actually look at him before he meets Kurt's eyes and says "Thank you."
Kurt tilts his head to the side, curiously, watching Blaine like he doesn't quite understand. "Thank you for what?" he asks.
Blaine just shrugs. "Everything."
The little shocked, pleased expression on Kurt's face is something Blaine wants to see forever. Then it settles into a smile, something soft and contemplative, and Kurt pushes himself up off the floor, crosses over to Blaine's bed, sits down next to him. "You're welcome," he says, quietly, and pats Blaine's hand. When he goes to pull away again, Blaine catches his fingers and holds on.
"Just..." he whispers, and doesn't look at Kurt, but doesn't let go of him, either. "Just for a second."
"Okay," Kurt says, quietly, and settles in a little closer, close enough that if he wanted to, Blaine could rest his head on Kurt's shoulder. He feels like that's maybe too much for right now, so he doesn't, but it's nice to know that he could. If he wanted to. "Blaine?" Kurt asks.
"Yeah?"
Kurt sighs and squeezes his hand. "I'm really glad you're staying. I know that you're scared, and I know it's hard, and I just -- I'm really glad that you decided to do this. To stay."
Blaine nods, biting his lip. "Yeah," he says again. "Yeah, I am too."
And the thing is, he almost feels as though he shouldn't want it to be true, because he still thinks it's selfish and he still thinks that it could -- But he is glad, even if he shouldn't be. Here, in this moment, he is so, so glad.
Kurt shifts even closer and rests his head on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine swallows hard, feeling that fizzy nervousness growing in his stomach. "I have to brush my teeth," Kurt murmurs, snuggling in a little bit. "And I've got my skincare routine. Don't let me forget it."
"I won't," Blaine promises, and tips his head down so that his temple is pressed against the softness of Kurt's hair, and closes his eyes.
Needless to say, he doesn't remind Kurt to go brush his teeth.
NOTE: For those unfamiliar with the Spider-Man films (or for those not well-versed in Finn Logic), Finn was trying to make a point about what would and would not keep Kurt safe. At the end of the first Spider-Man, Peter (who is Blaine) leaves his girlfriend Mary Jane (who is Kurt), believing that she will be in danger as long as he's around. By the end of the second film, however, he's realized that she'll be in danger no matter what, and that if he's around, he can at least try to protect her, instead of leaving her at perpetual risk of being kidnapped by super-villains with absolutely no way to defend herself. Blaine believes that staying in Kurt's life will put him in danger; Finn's argument is that Kurt was already in danger, and Blaine's (and Ben's) continued presence is the only thing that will keep him safe.
Kurt calls this "The Spiderman Paradox."