Reversebang: All Along (Part Two)
Title: All Along
Artist: dreamingpartone
Author: mismatch_me
Rating (art/fic if different): PG/13
Word Count: ~11,000
Warnings (if any): Mentions of abortion (non-graphic) (Part One)
Fic Summary: The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.
-Rumi
Link to Art: Here and Here
Link to Fic:
Art Thumbnail:
Part One
Gramma and Grampa looked worried, sitting on the chairs they so often manifested in Blaine’s dreams. They surprised Blaine. He didn’t expect them at such an early hour, but it soon twisted to anxiety when he saw the looks on their faces.
“We’ve been taking shifts, love.” Gramma started quietly, standing up and walking toward Blaine a couple steps. She raised a hand as though to comfort her grandson, but aborted the motion halfway, letting the arm fall to her side. Then the ramble started.
“We knew that today wasn’t going to be easy for you. Not easy for either of you, but you’re only half-Avian so it only makes the process worse. This isn’t going to be simple. Not after meeting Kurt yesterday. We knew that there were things to be done. We should have been more careful and checked on the both of you and just... dammit, Jorge, why didn’t we? Why weren't we more careful?” Gramma never babbled like that, so Blaine really started to worry when she stopped, breathing heavily and eyeing Grampa like he was the reason all of this was happening.
Blaine still had no idea what was going on with him, but he stood, not daring to move and watched as Gramma and Grampa stared at each other and exchanged meaningful glances. He sat on his chair, wooden with a comfortable cushion, and tried to keep out of the conversation while carefully hiding the- holy shit, what is happening? What about Kurt? Is he okay? What’s wrong?- panic that rose in his throat. He couldn’t hide it all, repressing too many emotions overwhelmed him. His breath began to rush out of his lungs, making him lightheaded. A passing thought, silly, oxygen deprived brain, thought asked how he could be hyperventilating in his own subconscious.
“Guys.” Blaine gasped out, momentarily knocking them of their silent correspondence.
“Blaine, oh, love.” Gramma kneeled in front of Blaine’s chair and cupped his face. He looked into her eyes and they worked to steady him, calm his breathing, settle his thoughts.
“What the hell?” he whispered into her palm. She smiled, a tight, pained gesture, and stood up.
“This, well.” Grampa cleared his throat and began to speak.
“You remember when we talked about how we were training Aurora, Westley’s younger sister?” Blaine nodded, grasping Gramma’s hand with both of his and holding them together tightly.
“Kurt is like Aurora. He is behind, of course, because... of, well, let’s just say ‘complications’ arose,” the air quotes let Blaine relax a little, even with such an important and stressful topic, Grampa seemed to know exactly how to take the edge off.
“In any case, Kurt was training with your grandmother, which explains her being gone for such a long time. When she wasn’t busy with him, she would trade with me and work with Aurora. Avians need training, Blaine. Not just training, but education. Since we have been in your life for such a long time, I’d hoped that we could educate you as well. We did. However,-” Gramma patted his knee softly and Blaine looked up from the floor to watch Grampa’s face as he spoke.
“However, we haven’t exactly taught you enough. There are a lot of things that...” He rubbed a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that Blaine picked up on early and started finding himself doing.
“Blaine, you’re so young. So full of life and compassion and everything that is good in this world. But, not to sound too frank, this is the time where things get serious because, now, you’ve met him and you two have a lot of things you must work through.” The anxiety Blaine had felt turned swiftly to irritation.
“Grampa, what are you talking about? Please, will one of you explain to me what the hell is going on?” Blaine extracted his hand from Gramma’s, the grip having turned to her grasping tightly at his fingers.
“Love.” She sighed, obviously tired. Blaine wanted to feel something other than the fire that was smoldering in his chest. Tell me, god dammit, I’m not a child.
“Blaine, watch your language. We can hear into your thoughts right now. You know how this works. We are inside your head.” Gramma sighed again, but no one said anything for several long moments.
“What does this all have to do with Kurt?” Blaine finally said, his voice low, the anger now fizzled out.
“He’s what we call your...” Gramma gave Grampa a meaningful look, the same one he’d seen them exchange before. Remember when this was us? It said. Remember what we were? Remember how much we loved each other? How much we still love each other?
Blaine knew that look.
“He’s your soulmate.” A sledgehammer struck through his body and Blaine lost his breath again. What?
Gramma pulled her grandson’s suddenly loose body toward hers. He sat at her side and felt the warmth of a wing wrap around his shoulder.
“But... I’ve just met him. How can he... how... was it in your Scope?” Sense having slowly returned into his curly head, Blaine glanced up at Gramma. She had tears rimming her eyes, but she was smiling when she nodded.
“Does he have any idea?”
They both shook their heads, but Grampa spoke.
“He doesn’t even know that we’re related. We do need to talk to him about it, though. Soon. What you felt today will keep happening to the both of you until you start to see each other more. The stigma in our society is a little skewed. The soulmate name is sort of silly to try and describe. He’s, if we go back to where we all began, what you call your ‘twin soul.’ The two of you are two halves of a whole. You’re able to function separately, of course, but not at all as well as if you were together. Distance will make it worse until you complete the process.” Blaine nuzzled his face into Gramma’s neck and wrapped his arms around her, touching the wings on her back softly.
“How do we do that?” came the muffled question. Blaine couldn’t see Grampa’s eyes fall to the ground or sense his arm crossing across his chest.
“No one really knows. It’s a process, a lot like falling in love. It’s almost exactly like falling in love, actually. You’ll both come to a point and then...” Grampa shrugged, “everything makes sense. Right, Anna?” Blaine felt Gramma nod, and noticed how damp the collar of his shirt had gotten; she was crying.
“What’s wrong, Gramma?” He pulled his head up and looked at Gramma’s face carefully.
“This is such a big time for you, love. You have no idea how much this will affect you, really, really deep down. You’re not going to be you anymore, Blaine. You’re going to be a part of a whole, one half of a pair and that changes you. It’s a soul-deep, overwhelming change. You’re never going to be the same, Blaine.”
“Why would that change me? How could being in love change me? Gramma, I’m always going to be me, no matter who I’m with or to whom I belong.” Confusion knitted his eyebrows together, as it often did and Gramma read the expression quickly, explanation already on her lips.
“You didn’t know your mother before she fell in love with your father. She was... different. Not a very tolerant person, no, but she wasn’t always so rigid. She disliked our open relationships and how easily we took to people and never, never told anyone her parents were different. She didn’t want to be cast out as a freak, which, honestly, I think I understand. She was a difficult girl to talk to sometimes, but she didn’t hate us. We were her parents and we had raised her; she didn’t have it in her to hate us. She wasn’t the best person, especially living in somewhere so expressive as California, to live with. Don’t get me wrong, we love your mother. Lauren is my only child and she will always be in my heart, no matter where hers has taken her. Once she met your father, though. Goodness, that man... I’m sorry, Blaine.” Gramma stroked a hand through Blaine’s hair, apologizing for something that she needn’t.
“He’s never been my Dad, Gramma. They are blood, but you’re my family. I’m not...” he shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts, “what you’re saying, I understand.”
Gramma and Grampa sat with him after that. Not much was said, a little more about what Blaine would have to do to talk to Kurt, how to handle the exhaustion as well as the eventual pain that would ensue as they worked through their process.
“You need to go to him,” Blaine didn’t ask as they were leaving him to his actual dreams, where, no doubt, his brain would conjure the Avian’s beautiful form.
“We will.”
“Tell him, please. I know I need to, but... a lot of things are easier coming from a grandmother.”
Gramma nodded with an understanding look and a small lift to her lips and Blaine sank into dreams.
He was woken up by Wes shaking him softly. His limbs felt lighter, but he was still drowsy.
“Blainers... Blaine... B, get your-” There was a huff and then, “Anderson, come on, man. Wake up.”
“Merrg.” Blaine was very articulate in the morning, even after so much sleep.
“You have a visitor. Normally Chad wouldn’t let someone in this early, but this guy insisted you would be okay with it and then gave him a look. You know Chad, the ol’ softy for a pair of blue eyes.” With that particular piece of identifying information, Blaine shot up, rummaging through his clothes for something. I slept in these? God.
“Let him come up. I’ll be just a minute.” Wes smirked at his frantic friend and left the room, door open, to get Blaine’s visitor.
He threw a shirt on after pulling the wrinkled, sleep-worn one off his shoulders. He debated the jeans for too long because there was knock on his door before he could pull off the pair on his legs.
“Hi.” Kurt said, standing in his doorway, light surrounding his features from the windows in the hall. Blaine’s breath caught.
“Hi.” They started at each other for some time, probably only a few seconds, but Blaine felt the weight of the moment. They both knew the effect they would have on the other’s life. All was out in the air and neither of the boys had any fucking clue what to do.
Blaine sniffled and wiped his eyes, pulling the sleep out of the corners.
Kurt shuffled his boots on the wooden floor.
“We should-” Blaine started right as Kurt’s “Maybe we-” escaped his mouth.
Wes groaned from the door. “Will you two just talk, good god.” Blaine sent him a look and glared until the door was shut firmly with his friend on the other side.
“Sit?” Kurt nodded and sat down on the offered sofa, straight-backed and uncomfortable. Blaine ran a hand through his hair. He sat on his bed and stared at the other boy, mesmerized and still a little sleep-weary.
“Staring is uncouth, Blaine.” Kurt drawled after a few minutes, startling Blaine out of his stupor. Kurt’s... everything was right there and he couldn’t help but want to soak him in; all the light and the grace that he exuded with every breath. Kurt was there, Blaine was in awe of his ethereal beauty. The white feathers of his wings were flat against his vest covered shoulders, standing stark against the dark cloth. He played with his long, soft-looking hands, fiddling with the manicured fingers nervously. While his eyes weren’t on him, Blaine could see they shone a bright, clear blue in the room’s light, but knew that they would change, like fresh lake water, into a earthy green-blue when Kurt tilted his head just right.
Blaine had trouble breathing correctly. It seemed to be an ongoing problem.
“You’re beautiful,” came out before Blaine had spared any thought toward a filter. Kurt’s answering blush revoked some of his embarrassment.
“I met your grandparents.” There was a pause as though Kurt was measuring the words on his tongue before speaking them aloud.
“Annette and Jorge are really very kind.” Looking up, Blaine caught the earnest, hopeful look in the other boy’s eyes. “You’re lucky to have them, you know?”
Blaine choked on the air he had inhaled to speak, but nodded to convey his agreement. They fell into small talk, albeit stilted. Blaine mentioned how Gramma and Grampa had taught him piano and touched lightly on what they had taught him about the dreamspace.
“I feel like this is all just stupid, Blaine.” Kurt blurted suddenly. “Who says we have to be anything to one another? Who says we have to go past being friends?” Kurt said the words and it felt like a knife had twisted in Blaine’s gut, and his head felt heavier. He was glad the bed was behind him, as he fell into the pillows, suddenly exhausted and sick.
“Well, that’s something...” he mumbled quietly.
Kurt rushed over, frantically flailing his hands over Blaine’s body, not knowing what was wrong but willing to fix whatever he could.
“Blaine, Blaine, god, what happened? We were just talking and you fell over and... was it something I said?” Kurt’s voice was high, hitting notes in a register that almost hurt Blaine’s head to listen to. He closed his eyes against the sound.
“No, stop. I’m...” A hand appeared on his forehead and, as swiftly as it came, the uneasiness subsided. Blaine opened his eyes wide, saw the worry lines on Kurt’s forehead, the tight line of his lips pressed together and leaned forward to hug him. The slim arms of his supposed soulmate wrapped, automatically, around Blaine’s shoulders and hung on tightly, pressing Blaine closer.
“I feel perfect,” he said into Kurt’s shoulder.
------------------------------------------------------------
After Blaine’s fainting incident, which he refused to call that, but Kurt still refers to it as, they resolved to see each other after school at the Lima Bean everyday. Blaine’s feelings for Kurt deepened with time. At first he was just in awe of Kurt’s outward appearance. Now that some time had passed, however, Blaine knew it was more than that. Kurt meant so much more than anyone he had ever met and he brought out the best in Blaine; had him smile, laugh and break out of his shell more. Kurt was evolving into a different person, too. He was less reserved, talked more and more about his friends in glee club and how much like a family they had all become, and laid his heart out by talking about his mother.
The coffee house became a safe haven for both of the boys, but only when the other was present. The phone calls started on weekends, followed closely by invitations to hang out or to dinner.
Blaine always accepted, Kurt’s cooking was phenomenal and the Hummel house was an actual home. He was warm there, the same warmth that came with spending an evening dreaming with Gramma and Grampa. Mister Hummel welcomed him and Carole always opened the door with a motherly smile and a hug, which, truth be told, almost had Blaine tearing up the first time it happened. He never really had a mother that would be a Mom for him. He never really had a flesh and blood woman care for him so thoughtfully without batting an eye.
Finn had shrugged when they finally met, two weeks into Kurt and Blaine’s friendship, offered Blaine the chance to watch the football game with he and Burt, not expecting him to say yes to the invitation.
“What,” Blaine had handed the last of the dishes to Kurt to dry and smirked at the tall boy’s expression, “I like football.”
“Yes, Anderson, you break all the stereotypes.” Kurt had said with an eyeroll.
A month in, they finally discussed the topic they had been avoiding.
“I don’t know what to do, Blaine.” Kurt picked at the straw wrapper in front of him. “Anna and Jorge aren’t pushing anything right now, even though I can tell they want to talk to me about it in between lessons. Anna was halfway through singing my dreamspace praises the other day when she stopped dead and turned to stare at me, not saying a word.”
“They haven’t said anything to me, either, Kurt. But, really...” Blaine couldn’t say what he was feeling, not truthfully. He couldn’t tell Kurt that going home every night was a battle, the tired sickness clung to him like a sticky paste and he couldn’t shake it off. Even if Kurt couldn’t see inside his head, the darkness under his eyes or his unkempt hair should have tipped the boy off.
Apparently not. Blaine was getting sicker and increasingly exhausted each passing day, Gramma had almost called him out on it the night before, but she held her tongue, seeing the way Blaine’s eyes glazed over. Even in his sleep, he was too tired to focus on an actual conversation for very long. Even around Kurt, which, in the beginning, had helped by just being around, Blaine had started dozing off, out of focus.
Kurt didn’t seem to notice, which hurt Blaine more than the torture of leaving his side.
“How’s the training going?” Blaine asked-sighed, actually, his vocal cords having apparently left the building.
“It’s progress, if anything. I can hold a dream for almost an entire night now. My flying is improving, too, but that’s mainly from what Anna can see through the memories I have. Overall, in such a short time, I feel like I have really excelled. I’m excited, you know? To go to sleep every night and see them. They’re so supportive. It’s not like I don’t have that at home, of course,” Kurt scoffed as though he couldn’t think of any other household but one that cares. Blaine scowled at the thought.
He doesn’t know about Dad or Mom or Cooper’s being gone. He’s not being mean, he’s just ignorant of the situation. Calm down.
The rest of Kurt’s words muddled together and Blaine only half listened to him, trying to collect his own thoughts and emotions and focusing on the now blurring image of a lukewarm coffee in his hands.
“Blaine...?” He pulled his head up at the mention of his name and hummed.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“‘m just...” Exhausted, depleted of energy, completely melted of all brain matter...“ tired.” With a lazy smile, the worry lines that had creased Kurt’s face faded, but he stood up, anyway, grabbing his coffee cup.
“I’m taking you home. You’re obviously in no shape to be out. From what Anna said, you should be marginally tired,” Blaine snorted, effectively cutting Kurt’s speech off. It didn’t stop the taller boy from gently pulling on Blaine’s elbow toward his car.
“Okay, really freaking tired is what Jorge said, but I don’t know any of this because you never really talk to me about it.” If Kurt opened the door with a little too much force, Blaine was so far out of it her didn’t notice.
Without the major filters in place, the words flowed out of his mouth before he had the chance to catch them. “I don’t wanna worry you. Y’re busy, Kurt. ‘m not gonna make it harder on you than it needs to be.”
“I’m going to be around for a while, Blaine. You need to open the hell up to me.” At the car, Kurt slammed Blaine’s door loudly before walking around to the driver’s seat. The scowl on his face clenched Blaine’s heart. I put that there. What is wrong with me?
The drive to Dalton was quiet, but far from comfortable. Blaine faded in and out, not truly able to concentrate on the road for more than a few seconds. It was a wonder he had even thought of driving home alone that night. Could’ve died doing this, dumbass. He pulled a hand down his face at the thought. He could barely function, let alone operate a motor vehicle.
After parking in the lot, Kurt pulled Blaine carefully to his dorm room, with a side-eyed look from Wes and a tall ginger-haired man Kurt could only guess was Chad.
“Be careful with him, Elfie. He’s been really sick lately coming home. Must be something in the coffee he gets after school, I swear.” Might-Be-Chad shook his head and retreated back into his room.
Kurt gave Blaine a withering look. “You didn’t tell me it was getting worse. God, Blaine.” He huffed dramatically and pulled Blaine along as quickly as possible.
The bed had become Blaine’s best friend after school, more so for the reprieve of a dreamless, solid night of sleep than of going and visiting Gramma and Grampa.
“If you don’t tell me these things, then how am I ever going to be able to help you...” Kurt had started the rant when he slipped off Blaine’s shoes. Once the Dalton boy was in his undershirt and a pair of red sweats, the words came rolling out of his mouth like film reel. Blaine was feeling chastised, but oddly soothed by his constant stream of dialogue.
“Come’re.” Blaine mumbled, rolling toward the wall so Kurt could sit on his bed properly.
“You need to sleep and I’m not going to stay here one more minute if I’m going to make it worse.” Despite the harsh words and his narrowed eyes, Blaine heard what must have been hesitation in his tone. So he patted the bed again, intent on having the other boy close before he slept.
Kurt relented.
Part Three
Artist: dreamingpartone
Author: mismatch_me
Rating (art/fic if different): PG/13
Word Count: ~11,000
Warnings (if any): Mentions of abortion (non-graphic) (Part One)
Fic Summary: The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.
-Rumi
Link to Art: Here and Here
Link to Fic:
Art Thumbnail:
Part One
Gramma and Grampa looked worried, sitting on the chairs they so often manifested in Blaine’s dreams. They surprised Blaine. He didn’t expect them at such an early hour, but it soon twisted to anxiety when he saw the looks on their faces.
“We’ve been taking shifts, love.” Gramma started quietly, standing up and walking toward Blaine a couple steps. She raised a hand as though to comfort her grandson, but aborted the motion halfway, letting the arm fall to her side. Then the ramble started.
“We knew that today wasn’t going to be easy for you. Not easy for either of you, but you’re only half-Avian so it only makes the process worse. This isn’t going to be simple. Not after meeting Kurt yesterday. We knew that there were things to be done. We should have been more careful and checked on the both of you and just... dammit, Jorge, why didn’t we? Why weren't we more careful?” Gramma never babbled like that, so Blaine really started to worry when she stopped, breathing heavily and eyeing Grampa like he was the reason all of this was happening.
Blaine still had no idea what was going on with him, but he stood, not daring to move and watched as Gramma and Grampa stared at each other and exchanged meaningful glances. He sat on his chair, wooden with a comfortable cushion, and tried to keep out of the conversation while carefully hiding the- holy shit, what is happening? What about Kurt? Is he okay? What’s wrong?- panic that rose in his throat. He couldn’t hide it all, repressing too many emotions overwhelmed him. His breath began to rush out of his lungs, making him lightheaded. A passing thought, silly, oxygen deprived brain, thought asked how he could be hyperventilating in his own subconscious.
“Guys.” Blaine gasped out, momentarily knocking them of their silent correspondence.
“Blaine, oh, love.” Gramma kneeled in front of Blaine’s chair and cupped his face. He looked into her eyes and they worked to steady him, calm his breathing, settle his thoughts.
“What the hell?” he whispered into her palm. She smiled, a tight, pained gesture, and stood up.
“This, well.” Grampa cleared his throat and began to speak.
“You remember when we talked about how we were training Aurora, Westley’s younger sister?” Blaine nodded, grasping Gramma’s hand with both of his and holding them together tightly.
“Kurt is like Aurora. He is behind, of course, because... of, well, let’s just say ‘complications’ arose,” the air quotes let Blaine relax a little, even with such an important and stressful topic, Grampa seemed to know exactly how to take the edge off.
“In any case, Kurt was training with your grandmother, which explains her being gone for such a long time. When she wasn’t busy with him, she would trade with me and work with Aurora. Avians need training, Blaine. Not just training, but education. Since we have been in your life for such a long time, I’d hoped that we could educate you as well. We did. However,-” Gramma patted his knee softly and Blaine looked up from the floor to watch Grampa’s face as he spoke.
“However, we haven’t exactly taught you enough. There are a lot of things that...” He rubbed a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that Blaine picked up on early and started finding himself doing.
“Blaine, you’re so young. So full of life and compassion and everything that is good in this world. But, not to sound too frank, this is the time where things get serious because, now, you’ve met him and you two have a lot of things you must work through.” The anxiety Blaine had felt turned swiftly to irritation.
“Grampa, what are you talking about? Please, will one of you explain to me what the hell is going on?” Blaine extracted his hand from Gramma’s, the grip having turned to her grasping tightly at his fingers.
“Love.” She sighed, obviously tired. Blaine wanted to feel something other than the fire that was smoldering in his chest. Tell me, god dammit, I’m not a child.
“Blaine, watch your language. We can hear into your thoughts right now. You know how this works. We are inside your head.” Gramma sighed again, but no one said anything for several long moments.
“What does this all have to do with Kurt?” Blaine finally said, his voice low, the anger now fizzled out.
“He’s what we call your...” Gramma gave Grampa a meaningful look, the same one he’d seen them exchange before. Remember when this was us? It said. Remember what we were? Remember how much we loved each other? How much we still love each other?
Blaine knew that look.
“He’s your soulmate.” A sledgehammer struck through his body and Blaine lost his breath again. What?
Gramma pulled her grandson’s suddenly loose body toward hers. He sat at her side and felt the warmth of a wing wrap around his shoulder.
“But... I’ve just met him. How can he... how... was it in your Scope?” Sense having slowly returned into his curly head, Blaine glanced up at Gramma. She had tears rimming her eyes, but she was smiling when she nodded.
“Does he have any idea?”
They both shook their heads, but Grampa spoke.
“He doesn’t even know that we’re related. We do need to talk to him about it, though. Soon. What you felt today will keep happening to the both of you until you start to see each other more. The stigma in our society is a little skewed. The soulmate name is sort of silly to try and describe. He’s, if we go back to where we all began, what you call your ‘twin soul.’ The two of you are two halves of a whole. You’re able to function separately, of course, but not at all as well as if you were together. Distance will make it worse until you complete the process.” Blaine nuzzled his face into Gramma’s neck and wrapped his arms around her, touching the wings on her back softly.
“How do we do that?” came the muffled question. Blaine couldn’t see Grampa’s eyes fall to the ground or sense his arm crossing across his chest.
“No one really knows. It’s a process, a lot like falling in love. It’s almost exactly like falling in love, actually. You’ll both come to a point and then...” Grampa shrugged, “everything makes sense. Right, Anna?” Blaine felt Gramma nod, and noticed how damp the collar of his shirt had gotten; she was crying.
“What’s wrong, Gramma?” He pulled his head up and looked at Gramma’s face carefully.
“This is such a big time for you, love. You have no idea how much this will affect you, really, really deep down. You’re not going to be you anymore, Blaine. You’re going to be a part of a whole, one half of a pair and that changes you. It’s a soul-deep, overwhelming change. You’re never going to be the same, Blaine.”
“Why would that change me? How could being in love change me? Gramma, I’m always going to be me, no matter who I’m with or to whom I belong.” Confusion knitted his eyebrows together, as it often did and Gramma read the expression quickly, explanation already on her lips.
“You didn’t know your mother before she fell in love with your father. She was... different. Not a very tolerant person, no, but she wasn’t always so rigid. She disliked our open relationships and how easily we took to people and never, never told anyone her parents were different. She didn’t want to be cast out as a freak, which, honestly, I think I understand. She was a difficult girl to talk to sometimes, but she didn’t hate us. We were her parents and we had raised her; she didn’t have it in her to hate us. She wasn’t the best person, especially living in somewhere so expressive as California, to live with. Don’t get me wrong, we love your mother. Lauren is my only child and she will always be in my heart, no matter where hers has taken her. Once she met your father, though. Goodness, that man... I’m sorry, Blaine.” Gramma stroked a hand through Blaine’s hair, apologizing for something that she needn’t.
“He’s never been my Dad, Gramma. They are blood, but you’re my family. I’m not...” he shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts, “what you’re saying, I understand.”
Gramma and Grampa sat with him after that. Not much was said, a little more about what Blaine would have to do to talk to Kurt, how to handle the exhaustion as well as the eventual pain that would ensue as they worked through their process.
“You need to go to him,” Blaine didn’t ask as they were leaving him to his actual dreams, where, no doubt, his brain would conjure the Avian’s beautiful form.
“We will.”
“Tell him, please. I know I need to, but... a lot of things are easier coming from a grandmother.”
Gramma nodded with an understanding look and a small lift to her lips and Blaine sank into dreams.
He was woken up by Wes shaking him softly. His limbs felt lighter, but he was still drowsy.
“Blainers... Blaine... B, get your-” There was a huff and then, “Anderson, come on, man. Wake up.”
“Merrg.” Blaine was very articulate in the morning, even after so much sleep.
“You have a visitor. Normally Chad wouldn’t let someone in this early, but this guy insisted you would be okay with it and then gave him a look. You know Chad, the ol’ softy for a pair of blue eyes.” With that particular piece of identifying information, Blaine shot up, rummaging through his clothes for something. I slept in these? God.
“Let him come up. I’ll be just a minute.” Wes smirked at his frantic friend and left the room, door open, to get Blaine’s visitor.
He threw a shirt on after pulling the wrinkled, sleep-worn one off his shoulders. He debated the jeans for too long because there was knock on his door before he could pull off the pair on his legs.
“Hi.” Kurt said, standing in his doorway, light surrounding his features from the windows in the hall. Blaine’s breath caught.
“Hi.” They started at each other for some time, probably only a few seconds, but Blaine felt the weight of the moment. They both knew the effect they would have on the other’s life. All was out in the air and neither of the boys had any fucking clue what to do.
Blaine sniffled and wiped his eyes, pulling the sleep out of the corners.
Kurt shuffled his boots on the wooden floor.
“We should-” Blaine started right as Kurt’s “Maybe we-” escaped his mouth.
Wes groaned from the door. “Will you two just talk, good god.” Blaine sent him a look and glared until the door was shut firmly with his friend on the other side.
“Sit?” Kurt nodded and sat down on the offered sofa, straight-backed and uncomfortable. Blaine ran a hand through his hair. He sat on his bed and stared at the other boy, mesmerized and still a little sleep-weary.
“Staring is uncouth, Blaine.” Kurt drawled after a few minutes, startling Blaine out of his stupor. Kurt’s... everything was right there and he couldn’t help but want to soak him in; all the light and the grace that he exuded with every breath. Kurt was there, Blaine was in awe of his ethereal beauty. The white feathers of his wings were flat against his vest covered shoulders, standing stark against the dark cloth. He played with his long, soft-looking hands, fiddling with the manicured fingers nervously. While his eyes weren’t on him, Blaine could see they shone a bright, clear blue in the room’s light, but knew that they would change, like fresh lake water, into a earthy green-blue when Kurt tilted his head just right.
Blaine had trouble breathing correctly. It seemed to be an ongoing problem.
“You’re beautiful,” came out before Blaine had spared any thought toward a filter. Kurt’s answering blush revoked some of his embarrassment.
“I met your grandparents.” There was a pause as though Kurt was measuring the words on his tongue before speaking them aloud.
“Annette and Jorge are really very kind.” Looking up, Blaine caught the earnest, hopeful look in the other boy’s eyes. “You’re lucky to have them, you know?”
Blaine choked on the air he had inhaled to speak, but nodded to convey his agreement. They fell into small talk, albeit stilted. Blaine mentioned how Gramma and Grampa had taught him piano and touched lightly on what they had taught him about the dreamspace.
“I feel like this is all just stupid, Blaine.” Kurt blurted suddenly. “Who says we have to be anything to one another? Who says we have to go past being friends?” Kurt said the words and it felt like a knife had twisted in Blaine’s gut, and his head felt heavier. He was glad the bed was behind him, as he fell into the pillows, suddenly exhausted and sick.
“Well, that’s something...” he mumbled quietly.
Kurt rushed over, frantically flailing his hands over Blaine’s body, not knowing what was wrong but willing to fix whatever he could.
“Blaine, Blaine, god, what happened? We were just talking and you fell over and... was it something I said?” Kurt’s voice was high, hitting notes in a register that almost hurt Blaine’s head to listen to. He closed his eyes against the sound.
“No, stop. I’m...” A hand appeared on his forehead and, as swiftly as it came, the uneasiness subsided. Blaine opened his eyes wide, saw the worry lines on Kurt’s forehead, the tight line of his lips pressed together and leaned forward to hug him. The slim arms of his supposed soulmate wrapped, automatically, around Blaine’s shoulders and hung on tightly, pressing Blaine closer.
“I feel perfect,” he said into Kurt’s shoulder.
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After Blaine’s fainting incident, which he refused to call that, but Kurt still refers to it as, they resolved to see each other after school at the Lima Bean everyday. Blaine’s feelings for Kurt deepened with time. At first he was just in awe of Kurt’s outward appearance. Now that some time had passed, however, Blaine knew it was more than that. Kurt meant so much more than anyone he had ever met and he brought out the best in Blaine; had him smile, laugh and break out of his shell more. Kurt was evolving into a different person, too. He was less reserved, talked more and more about his friends in glee club and how much like a family they had all become, and laid his heart out by talking about his mother.
The coffee house became a safe haven for both of the boys, but only when the other was present. The phone calls started on weekends, followed closely by invitations to hang out or to dinner.
Blaine always accepted, Kurt’s cooking was phenomenal and the Hummel house was an actual home. He was warm there, the same warmth that came with spending an evening dreaming with Gramma and Grampa. Mister Hummel welcomed him and Carole always opened the door with a motherly smile and a hug, which, truth be told, almost had Blaine tearing up the first time it happened. He never really had a mother that would be a Mom for him. He never really had a flesh and blood woman care for him so thoughtfully without batting an eye.
Finn had shrugged when they finally met, two weeks into Kurt and Blaine’s friendship, offered Blaine the chance to watch the football game with he and Burt, not expecting him to say yes to the invitation.
“What,” Blaine had handed the last of the dishes to Kurt to dry and smirked at the tall boy’s expression, “I like football.”
“Yes, Anderson, you break all the stereotypes.” Kurt had said with an eyeroll.
A month in, they finally discussed the topic they had been avoiding.
“I don’t know what to do, Blaine.” Kurt picked at the straw wrapper in front of him. “Anna and Jorge aren’t pushing anything right now, even though I can tell they want to talk to me about it in between lessons. Anna was halfway through singing my dreamspace praises the other day when she stopped dead and turned to stare at me, not saying a word.”
“They haven’t said anything to me, either, Kurt. But, really...” Blaine couldn’t say what he was feeling, not truthfully. He couldn’t tell Kurt that going home every night was a battle, the tired sickness clung to him like a sticky paste and he couldn’t shake it off. Even if Kurt couldn’t see inside his head, the darkness under his eyes or his unkempt hair should have tipped the boy off.
Apparently not. Blaine was getting sicker and increasingly exhausted each passing day, Gramma had almost called him out on it the night before, but she held her tongue, seeing the way Blaine’s eyes glazed over. Even in his sleep, he was too tired to focus on an actual conversation for very long. Even around Kurt, which, in the beginning, had helped by just being around, Blaine had started dozing off, out of focus.
Kurt didn’t seem to notice, which hurt Blaine more than the torture of leaving his side.
“How’s the training going?” Blaine asked-sighed, actually, his vocal cords having apparently left the building.
“It’s progress, if anything. I can hold a dream for almost an entire night now. My flying is improving, too, but that’s mainly from what Anna can see through the memories I have. Overall, in such a short time, I feel like I have really excelled. I’m excited, you know? To go to sleep every night and see them. They’re so supportive. It’s not like I don’t have that at home, of course,” Kurt scoffed as though he couldn’t think of any other household but one that cares. Blaine scowled at the thought.
He doesn’t know about Dad or Mom or Cooper’s being gone. He’s not being mean, he’s just ignorant of the situation. Calm down.
The rest of Kurt’s words muddled together and Blaine only half listened to him, trying to collect his own thoughts and emotions and focusing on the now blurring image of a lukewarm coffee in his hands.
“Blaine...?” He pulled his head up at the mention of his name and hummed.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“‘m just...” Exhausted, depleted of energy, completely melted of all brain matter...“ tired.” With a lazy smile, the worry lines that had creased Kurt’s face faded, but he stood up, anyway, grabbing his coffee cup.
“I’m taking you home. You’re obviously in no shape to be out. From what Anna said, you should be marginally tired,” Blaine snorted, effectively cutting Kurt’s speech off. It didn’t stop the taller boy from gently pulling on Blaine’s elbow toward his car.
“Okay, really freaking tired is what Jorge said, but I don’t know any of this because you never really talk to me about it.” If Kurt opened the door with a little too much force, Blaine was so far out of it her didn’t notice.
Without the major filters in place, the words flowed out of his mouth before he had the chance to catch them. “I don’t wanna worry you. Y’re busy, Kurt. ‘m not gonna make it harder on you than it needs to be.”
“I’m going to be around for a while, Blaine. You need to open the hell up to me.” At the car, Kurt slammed Blaine’s door loudly before walking around to the driver’s seat. The scowl on his face clenched Blaine’s heart. I put that there. What is wrong with me?
The drive to Dalton was quiet, but far from comfortable. Blaine faded in and out, not truly able to concentrate on the road for more than a few seconds. It was a wonder he had even thought of driving home alone that night. Could’ve died doing this, dumbass. He pulled a hand down his face at the thought. He could barely function, let alone operate a motor vehicle.
After parking in the lot, Kurt pulled Blaine carefully to his dorm room, with a side-eyed look from Wes and a tall ginger-haired man Kurt could only guess was Chad.
“Be careful with him, Elfie. He’s been really sick lately coming home. Must be something in the coffee he gets after school, I swear.” Might-Be-Chad shook his head and retreated back into his room.
Kurt gave Blaine a withering look. “You didn’t tell me it was getting worse. God, Blaine.” He huffed dramatically and pulled Blaine along as quickly as possible.
The bed had become Blaine’s best friend after school, more so for the reprieve of a dreamless, solid night of sleep than of going and visiting Gramma and Grampa.
“If you don’t tell me these things, then how am I ever going to be able to help you...” Kurt had started the rant when he slipped off Blaine’s shoes. Once the Dalton boy was in his undershirt and a pair of red sweats, the words came rolling out of his mouth like film reel. Blaine was feeling chastised, but oddly soothed by his constant stream of dialogue.
“Come’re.” Blaine mumbled, rolling toward the wall so Kurt could sit on his bed properly.
“You need to sleep and I’m not going to stay here one more minute if I’m going to make it worse.” Despite the harsh words and his narrowed eyes, Blaine heard what must have been hesitation in his tone. So he patted the bed again, intent on having the other boy close before he slept.
Kurt relented.
Part Three