one day we'll fly away
title: one day we'll fly away
summary: nobody in new directions -- kurt included -- can be there for blaine. except for brittany, because she and him are special together.
rating: T
pairing: klaine & ust brittana
genre: gen/angst
warnings: adhd, dubious medical decisions with pills
notes: written for a prompt over at the glee_angst_meme
It took three years for Blaine's parents to admit he was different. It took them two years to get him fully diagnosed. It took another year before they began to talk about it. That was okay though. It wasn't like him being gay; at least with his ADHD they cared somewhat.
***
Brittany's parents had this thing they said a lot. "She's just got an imagination. There's nothing wrong with that." So Brittany made a collage that said imagination (like with Spongebob) but at some point she lost it. It made her cry for days, until her parents were defending her again to some teacher -- she's just got an imagination -- and she realized she hadn't lost it at all. That was nice. She didn't like the idea of being lost.
Blaine seemed lost. She didn't know if it was because he hopped out of his cage and flapped his wings (he had very pretty wings, you should see them) and realized he didn't know how to fly or if he just had a lot of imagination like her. Blaine was always looking away, tapping his fingers, bouncing in his seat, and Brittany totally knew this had something to do with the sort of things you saw and knew when you were different like him and her.
***
"Coffee?" Blaine chirped, bounding over to Kurt's side. He felt like the world around his was buzzing, so much energy wasted on just sitting back while other people sang. Blaine knew he had some egotism problems and he remembered Kurt's scolding, so he had backed off asking for solos but it was so hard to do nothing. The only thing that could make up for another frustrating glee practice was Kurt.
"I think the last thing the spaz needs is coffee," Santana muttered from somewhere behind them, and Blaine flushed. Nobody at McKinley knew he had ADHD, not even Kurt, because Blaine really didn't want that to excuse any socially unacceptable behaviour ... which he had a lot of. Time to reign it in, especially since Kurt was frowning at him.
"Sorry Blaine, but me, 'Cedes and Rachel are going shopping." Kurt's said, reaching over to stroke Blaine's arm apologetically. "Girl time and all that. Skype you later tonight?"
Great. More sitting and doing nothing -- but it was Kurt asking, so Blaine forced a smile. "Sure. We'll get coffee some other day."
"Of course. Kiss?" Kurt asked, still looking unsure, and Blaine kissed him as sweetly as he could. None of this was really Kurt's fault -- he hadn't wanted to leave McKinley and his friends and it only made sense that he was out catching up with his friends. Instead of getting clingy, Blaine should be trying to form some friendships of his own. It was just ... weirdly, unexpectedly hard. After he had been diagnosed and medicated, and stopped jumping around and getting angry and distracted all the time, Blaine had discovered he was quite good at making friends. But he couldn't do it at McKinley, not even with the glee club, and Blaine really didn't know what the problem was.
Maybe he needed to up his medication -- but he wouldn't, because he hated it, resented having to take it and one of the main reasons his parents had started talking about his disorder was because they needed to get him to take his pills. Blaine was a big kid now and he took them on his own, but he didn't have to like it and he wasn't going to go on more. He just needed some other way to release this fizzing, mind-blurring energy. He just needed a new hobby was all.
***
Brittany watched Blaine, and she felt sorry for him -- nobody should try that hard and have nothing happen, because Brittany remembered grade school and Mrs Lietman saying "effort counts!" Blaine deserved a gold star.
***
One day after glee, when Tina, Mercedes and Kurt had gone out for mani-pedis Blaine asked Mike to teach him some dance moves. Mike had been very nice about it, but Blaine couldn't control the track his attention took that easily and he ended up so absorbed in the fluid movement of limbs that he completely tuned out Mike's words. An offended Mike had blustered some excuse about dim sum with his grandmother and taken off, and when Blaine tried to apologize the next day Mike had brushed him off awkwardly and a sympathetic but confused Kurt had suggested Blaine and Mercedes hang out.
Blaine jiggled his leg so much through a friendly ice cream date with Mercedes while Kurt did his usual friday family time that Mercedes eventually pinned his feet down with her own. It stopped Blaine's foot from tapping but he still bounced in his seat, absolutely delighted in the flavour and texture of his sorbet. Blaine searched for a way to describe how delightful it was, but the words slipped away from his jumpy thoughts. Mercedes ended up leaving early with advice to cut the caffeine from his diet, and Blaine obeyed out of a desperate attempt to fix things.
It didn't help though, because even on decaf Blaine was too excitable for others to handle. He tried to play a game of pick-up with Finn and Puck one day, which they probably only agreed to because the idea of Blaine playing basketball was too hilarious to deny. First he got a little too excited dribbling and ended up bouncing the ball so hard it richoched and slammed Puck in the face. After apologies were out of the way and a threat to see Blaine dunked through the net, Blaine got so caught up in the thump-thump-thump of the ball and swish of the net that he ended up drifting off to the side of the court, singing to himself and putting on an impromptu performance for disinterested pigeons and a confused Puck and Finn. They didn't play pick-up again, and the next time he was over at the Hummel-Hudson house (in what seemed like the first time in forever) he overheard Finn telling Kurt that Blaine was freaking him out.
So Blaine tried and failed with various members of the group, and it seemed he just freaked everyone out. It made him alternate between coiling anger, that he was never good enough for anyone and that Kurt couldn't just be there for him, creeping sadness and self-doubt because he was being selfish and he couldn't blame others for not getting along with him when he was being annoying. When you acted weird, when your poorly thought-out comments made everyone around you uncomfortable and your hyperactivity tired everyone out and made others ashamed to be seen with you in public, you got used to and understood why people wouldn't want to bother.
Strangely, Blaine discovered that the only person who did want to bother was Brittany. Somewhere between trying to socialize with Artie and Tina, he found a gold star stuck to his locker and Brittany had waved at him when he looked around confused. The gesture baffled him and gave him hope, so he waved back.
***
"You have very pretty eyes." Brittany said, taking a seat next to Blaine. He was sitting alone on the steps of the courtyard, wings drooping as he stared at his Kurt. Kurt was performing with the rest of New Directions to raise money and Blaine wasn't allowed to sing because he had thrown a chair during practice. The noise had scared Brittany and she'd had to squeeze Santana's hand, but she understood why Blaine had done it. People weren't being very nice to him, and it made Brittany want to cheer him up.
"Hm? Thank you, Brittany." Blaine smiled, and it made Brittany smile back. He had a very pretty smile too, and if she didn't know he liked the feel of boy hands best she would touch him, try and catch that smile. "You're pretty all over," Blaine added with a wink.
Brittany giggled, and decided to touch him anyways, dropping a hand on his back where his wings sprouted. "You're the nicest boy I've ever met. If you ever stop liking boy hands, we could totally date."
"I would count myself lucky," Blaine laughed, leaning back into her hand. She began to pet right where the wing was and he sighed, relaxing a little. Brittany was very good at getting boys -- and Santana -- to relax. "Why aren't you performing?" Blaine was still staring at his Kurt. They were finishing up, and the song they were singing hit some final notes that made Brittany's toes wiggle and colours swarm the air. She began to tap the beat against his back and Blaine's bouncing foot picked up the rhythm.
"I told Mr Schuester that I wouldn't sing when he was being mean to you." Brittany nodded seriously. "Everyone gets angry because you don't act like how they want, and that's stupid. I like how you act. It's like that sparkling water and pop rocks."
Blaine's wings lifted a little and tickled her palm. Brittany hummed in the quiet of a finished New Directions while Blaine stared at her, all shocked like she had popped a balloon in his face. "Brittany ..." he whispered, throat bobbing like a boat at sea and eyes warm. "Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"We're both really nice," Brittany pointed out. "Too bad about boy hands."
"Too bad indeed," Blaine laughed, before he jumped to his feet, curling a hand around her arm to pull her up with him. "C'mon, let's go sing nicely by ourselves."
"Okay." Brittany grabbed hold of his hand as it fell down and the moment their palms touched Brittany knew that she and Blaine just fit. They weren't just special, they were special together.
***
Blaine frowned at Kurt, who glared back. They were having something of a standoff in the choir room, the rest of New Directions watching their oncoming fight with bated breath. Blaine wished they would at least pretend they weren't eavesdropping, and that Kurt hadn't had such an issue with Blaine messing up their duet. What did he expect, when he hadn't had the time to even practice with Blaine? When Blaine pointed this out, Kurt's gaze got even chillier.
"I didn't realize you needed help with a song we've sung before!" Kurt snapped. "Honestly Blaine, what's gotten into you these past weeks? Do you just hate McKinley? Is this glee club not good enough for you? Am I not good enough for you? Everyone's noticed how off you've been."
Blaine flinched back, fingers twitching. For a second he wished he could throw another chair. Last time, it was because the whole club had banded together to teasingly steal his coffee and throw it out, claiming he needed to lay off the caffeine. One minute Blaine was staring at the milky coffee flooding the garbage pail, next he had crossed the room and calmly flipped a chair. Mr Schuester had given him a time out for that though, and Blaine rather shamefully knew he deserved it, so now he focused on deep breaths. "I'm sorry if the transition hasn't been easy, but it's a lot harder for me than it is for you. I'm not built for public school, and none of you understand why I'm ... excitable."
"Then tell me! What is it? What's the issue?" Kurt held his hands up in defeat, and Blaine felt a surge of guilt. He really was so difficult, him and his stupid condition. It was already driving a wedge between them. Maybe Blaine should tell him ... and get treated differently as a result. It was the same story, time and time again. Blaine would tell someone he had ADHD and they acted like he was a toddler on sugar all the time. Blaine knew he could be difficult, and he had been getting worse, but he hated condescension and pity. So far only Brittany had spoken to him like his defuncts didn't make him deficient.
"Maybe it really is too much coffee," Blaine said evasively, waving away Kurt's disbelieving look. "I've got to use the washroom." Without waiting for Kurt to say something else Blaine strode out of the room, listening to the whispers that erupted behind him as he shut the door. Deciding not to wait, in case Kurt came after him, Blaine strode off down the hall and began to wander aimlessly. Blaine felt pretty shitty overall. His parents had always congratulated him on learning to control his temper, like it hadn't been the result of being diagonosed, medicated and understood for the first time in his life. Maybe that was the problem here. He just wasn't being understood.
"You left your bag," a voice called, and Blaine turned to see Brittany. He was startled to see that he had ended up outside, near the football field. That wasn't paying attention, even for him. What if he had wandered out into the street? Shaking off those worries, Blaine moved closer to Brittany, who immediately placed a hand on his back. They had started to hang out quite a bit recently, and she seemed to have an odd fixation with putting her hands there that she didn't have with anyone else. Blaine just chalked it up to her being her and didn't question it.
"But you didn't bring it," Blaine stated in amusement, and Brittany gave him a sad look.
"I was going to, but I had to make up a reason to leave too and I forgot."
"It's okay, don't worry." Blaine began to stroll again and Brittany kept up with him, hand slipping down his back to tuck into the back pocket of his jeans. He imagined that to an outside observer they looked like any straight highschool couple, and that was comforting in a way Blaine wasn't planning on confronting any time soon. "Want to get ice cream?" Blaine had really liked that place he and Mercedes had gone to on their failed outing, and he figured Brittany would be the type to enjoy sharing the gummy worm and sprinkle-coated special sunday the parlour had.
"Yeah. Should we get your bag? The janitor might sell it to the trolls under the bridge, and they'll get your ID and housekeys." Brittany blinked, eyes sincere as they always were. Blaine loved that about her. "That's a bad thing."
Truthfully, Blaine had already forgotten about that, but Brittany had a point. Still, he wasn't interested in facing the rest of New Directions at the moment. "Kurt will get it for me."
"Kurtie's mad," Brittany whispered like she was telling him a deep dark secret. "You should have more sex with him, that normally works for me when a boy's mad."
Blaine gave a startled laugh, sliding a friendly arm around Brittany's waist and tugging her closer. "I'll propose it at our next Sexual Progress meeting."
Brittany beamed. "Remember to make a graph. That's way important."
"I will," Blaine promised.
***
Brittany licked her spoon slowly, staring at Blaine intently. "I'm sure that would drive any other man wild, but I am gay Brittany," Blaine's wings ruffled a little so Brittany could tell he wasn't mad, so she smiled as she dug her spoon back into the half-eaten sundae which sort of tasted like Santana's mouth and Lord Tubbington's favourite vanilla ice cream.
"I'm practing. Santana lets me practice on her all the time, though she isn't the same gay as you." Brittany replied, cutting a gummi worm in half and pushing it toward Blaine's spoon. His spoon stilled in scooping it up as he gaped at her.
"Santana? You and Santana?" Blaine shook his head as he tapped the sundae dish thoughtfully, the clear noise it gave off reminding Brittany of Kurt and fresh snow. She mimicked the noise, and Blaine replied, and soon they were tapping out a beat on the dish. Brittany didn't really want to talk about Santana, because of how confusing it was due to not being confusing at all. Brittany loved Santana and Santana loved Brittany, and Brittany and Artie had broken up so why weren't they dating? Brittany didn't get it.
Brittany began to sing, the words coming from deep inside of her awesome talent and spilling out to paint the air. Blaine joined in, bouncing in his seat. Halfway through the song he started singing something else and it was so cool, like a mash up. Just as they were getting really into it and totally rocking things some frowny lady came over and told them they were disturbing the other customers.
"But we're awesome." Brittany pointed out fairly. This lady needed her ears cleaned, and Brittany would help but Santana's dad said only a professional could do that. Brittany had had to throw out all her Q-tips because they were amateurs. Her mom hadn't gotten mad. You're so intuitive baby.
Brittany had missed out on some of the conversation, which happened when she got stuck in her thoughts. They were like that scary forest Snow White ran through, grabbing her and tearing at her concentration. Blaine was standing up, wings stiff. "We'll be leaving then. I'll pay at the register?"
"Yes. Your spacey friend can wait outside." Wow, this lady was really rude. That was racist against aliens or something. Blaine looked like he wanted to say something, wings flaring angrily, but then something sad went through his eyes and his wings drooped as low as they had been before Brittany started hanging out with him. Her heart hurt, because she knew Blaine was upset because this lady was being rude to her, even if she didn't understand the lady completely.
"It's okay. I like the sun, and the lady's boring." Brittany jumped to her feet, kissing Blaine good luck on the cheek before skipping out. Looking happy even when she was sad was something Santana taught her, and Brittany trusted Santana, even if faking happiness hurt a lot more than just being honestly sad.
After a little while Blaine came back out, eyes angry. "That woman was the devil!" He hissed, and Brittany threw a worried look back at the shop. "I mean honestly! You're not spacey, or-- or, challenged. Who says that?! Brittany, you just --"
"Have a lot of imagination?" Brittany asked, walking over and sliding her arms around him. She liked hugging Blaine almost as much as hugging Santana so she held him tight, and he relaxed into her arms. She began to rub at the base of his wings and he smiled into her ear.
"You're something else," Blaine murmured. His wings were starting to raise up again and Brittany smiled right back into his ear.
"Better than being someone else." Brittany couldn't imagine how weird that would be, because she loved herself even if people thought she was stupid or too loud or whatever. She hoped Blaine felt the same way, but she was pretty sure he didn't. That was okay -- it just gave her a chance to teach him how to feel like that. If anyone deserved to be able to think back on their day and be happy with how they acted, it was Blaine. He was the greatest guy she knew and she knew a lot of guys.
"Truer words ... truer words."
Brittany frowned.
"I don't think I have anything truer than that."
"Why don't I explain it to you over more ice cream at my place?" Blaine asked sweetly, and Brittany felt like she was shooting sunbeams with her smile. People didn't offer to explain things to her when she got them wrong most of the time. They just called her stupid and let her keep on making mistakes -- but didn't she already known Blaine was different?
They held hands all the way back to his house.
***
Three days later, Brittany led Blaine through the exacting process of making matching locker collages. They spread themselves out on her bedroom floor between construction paper, magazines, glue sticks, scissors, markers and glitter, elbows bumping as they crafted. After careful deliberation Blaine decided to make his simply say: Be True. To himself, to the illness that didn't seem quite so embarassing or daunting anymore; or just plain honesty, because honesty had gotten him a friend where it lost others so it would always be worth it. He added the gold star Brittany had given him ages ago, which had been living on his cell phone as a permanent brightness to his day.
Brittany's said Wings. When he asked why she crawled onto his back like a cat -- she seemed to emulate Lord Tubbington on occasion, something Blaine only half-understood. Half, since Lord Tubbington was easily Blaine's favourite animal ever. So the climbing he got, mostly, but her simple announcement of because I want to help you fly confused him greatly. Blaine chose to just file it away on that long, long list of spectacular things that made Brittany Brittany and let it rest.
The next day Blaine put his collage up and stared at it for a very long time. The sounds of the school faded away and he considered that he and Kurt hadn't shared more than three words since their fight. He remembered the way New Directions continued to get uncomfortable at his attempts to socialize. He thought of the Warblers, and how he could skip days of medicating with them and not worry because he knew they had him. New Directions didn't have him, but Brittany did -- and Brittany wanted to see him fly.
Blaine didn't throw out the pills, but instead of taking two he only took one. The world seemed immediately brighter as a result, almost too much so, and Blaine laughed himself silly at it. He didn't really care about the looks he got, cackling mindlessly at his locker. He didn't really care about anything that people thought. Be true, no matter what.
Blaine intended to follow his own advice for once.
***
Brittany smiled, fingers getting all tangled up in Blaine's. Santana was glaring at them -- she was so confusing -- and Kurt looked upset -- but he ignored Blaine -- and the rest of the their friends looked weirded out. Brittany ignored them, wriggling the toe nails Blaine had half-painted before he started drawing swirls on his skin with the polish. She knew they all thought Blaine was crazy, but with his wings all wide he had never looked happier.
Maybe one day Blaine would fly too, when he didn't call Brittany up yelling and crying because his parents didn't believe he just had an imagination or because Kurt didn't talk to him anymore. She didn't know if those things would get better but she did know that she believed in Blaine, and if he whispered to her very late at night that he would fly soon she knew she would be coming with.
It would be fun.
end
summary: nobody in new directions -- kurt included -- can be there for blaine. except for brittany, because she and him are special together.
rating: T
pairing: klaine & ust brittana
genre: gen/angst
warnings: adhd, dubious medical decisions with pills
notes: written for a prompt over at the glee_angst_meme
It took three years for Blaine's parents to admit he was different. It took them two years to get him fully diagnosed. It took another year before they began to talk about it. That was okay though. It wasn't like him being gay; at least with his ADHD they cared somewhat.
***
Brittany's parents had this thing they said a lot. "She's just got an imagination. There's nothing wrong with that." So Brittany made a collage that said imagination (like with Spongebob) but at some point she lost it. It made her cry for days, until her parents were defending her again to some teacher -- she's just got an imagination -- and she realized she hadn't lost it at all. That was nice. She didn't like the idea of being lost.
Blaine seemed lost. She didn't know if it was because he hopped out of his cage and flapped his wings (he had very pretty wings, you should see them) and realized he didn't know how to fly or if he just had a lot of imagination like her. Blaine was always looking away, tapping his fingers, bouncing in his seat, and Brittany totally knew this had something to do with the sort of things you saw and knew when you were different like him and her.
***
"Coffee?" Blaine chirped, bounding over to Kurt's side. He felt like the world around his was buzzing, so much energy wasted on just sitting back while other people sang. Blaine knew he had some egotism problems and he remembered Kurt's scolding, so he had backed off asking for solos but it was so hard to do nothing. The only thing that could make up for another frustrating glee practice was Kurt.
"I think the last thing the spaz needs is coffee," Santana muttered from somewhere behind them, and Blaine flushed. Nobody at McKinley knew he had ADHD, not even Kurt, because Blaine really didn't want that to excuse any socially unacceptable behaviour ... which he had a lot of. Time to reign it in, especially since Kurt was frowning at him.
"Sorry Blaine, but me, 'Cedes and Rachel are going shopping." Kurt's said, reaching over to stroke Blaine's arm apologetically. "Girl time and all that. Skype you later tonight?"
Great. More sitting and doing nothing -- but it was Kurt asking, so Blaine forced a smile. "Sure. We'll get coffee some other day."
"Of course. Kiss?" Kurt asked, still looking unsure, and Blaine kissed him as sweetly as he could. None of this was really Kurt's fault -- he hadn't wanted to leave McKinley and his friends and it only made sense that he was out catching up with his friends. Instead of getting clingy, Blaine should be trying to form some friendships of his own. It was just ... weirdly, unexpectedly hard. After he had been diagnosed and medicated, and stopped jumping around and getting angry and distracted all the time, Blaine had discovered he was quite good at making friends. But he couldn't do it at McKinley, not even with the glee club, and Blaine really didn't know what the problem was.
Maybe he needed to up his medication -- but he wouldn't, because he hated it, resented having to take it and one of the main reasons his parents had started talking about his disorder was because they needed to get him to take his pills. Blaine was a big kid now and he took them on his own, but he didn't have to like it and he wasn't going to go on more. He just needed some other way to release this fizzing, mind-blurring energy. He just needed a new hobby was all.
***
Brittany watched Blaine, and she felt sorry for him -- nobody should try that hard and have nothing happen, because Brittany remembered grade school and Mrs Lietman saying "effort counts!" Blaine deserved a gold star.
***
One day after glee, when Tina, Mercedes and Kurt had gone out for mani-pedis Blaine asked Mike to teach him some dance moves. Mike had been very nice about it, but Blaine couldn't control the track his attention took that easily and he ended up so absorbed in the fluid movement of limbs that he completely tuned out Mike's words. An offended Mike had blustered some excuse about dim sum with his grandmother and taken off, and when Blaine tried to apologize the next day Mike had brushed him off awkwardly and a sympathetic but confused Kurt had suggested Blaine and Mercedes hang out.
Blaine jiggled his leg so much through a friendly ice cream date with Mercedes while Kurt did his usual friday family time that Mercedes eventually pinned his feet down with her own. It stopped Blaine's foot from tapping but he still bounced in his seat, absolutely delighted in the flavour and texture of his sorbet. Blaine searched for a way to describe how delightful it was, but the words slipped away from his jumpy thoughts. Mercedes ended up leaving early with advice to cut the caffeine from his diet, and Blaine obeyed out of a desperate attempt to fix things.
It didn't help though, because even on decaf Blaine was too excitable for others to handle. He tried to play a game of pick-up with Finn and Puck one day, which they probably only agreed to because the idea of Blaine playing basketball was too hilarious to deny. First he got a little too excited dribbling and ended up bouncing the ball so hard it richoched and slammed Puck in the face. After apologies were out of the way and a threat to see Blaine dunked through the net, Blaine got so caught up in the thump-thump-thump of the ball and swish of the net that he ended up drifting off to the side of the court, singing to himself and putting on an impromptu performance for disinterested pigeons and a confused Puck and Finn. They didn't play pick-up again, and the next time he was over at the Hummel-Hudson house (in what seemed like the first time in forever) he overheard Finn telling Kurt that Blaine was freaking him out.
So Blaine tried and failed with various members of the group, and it seemed he just freaked everyone out. It made him alternate between coiling anger, that he was never good enough for anyone and that Kurt couldn't just be there for him, creeping sadness and self-doubt because he was being selfish and he couldn't blame others for not getting along with him when he was being annoying. When you acted weird, when your poorly thought-out comments made everyone around you uncomfortable and your hyperactivity tired everyone out and made others ashamed to be seen with you in public, you got used to and understood why people wouldn't want to bother.
Strangely, Blaine discovered that the only person who did want to bother was Brittany. Somewhere between trying to socialize with Artie and Tina, he found a gold star stuck to his locker and Brittany had waved at him when he looked around confused. The gesture baffled him and gave him hope, so he waved back.
***
"You have very pretty eyes." Brittany said, taking a seat next to Blaine. He was sitting alone on the steps of the courtyard, wings drooping as he stared at his Kurt. Kurt was performing with the rest of New Directions to raise money and Blaine wasn't allowed to sing because he had thrown a chair during practice. The noise had scared Brittany and she'd had to squeeze Santana's hand, but she understood why Blaine had done it. People weren't being very nice to him, and it made Brittany want to cheer him up.
"Hm? Thank you, Brittany." Blaine smiled, and it made Brittany smile back. He had a very pretty smile too, and if she didn't know he liked the feel of boy hands best she would touch him, try and catch that smile. "You're pretty all over," Blaine added with a wink.
Brittany giggled, and decided to touch him anyways, dropping a hand on his back where his wings sprouted. "You're the nicest boy I've ever met. If you ever stop liking boy hands, we could totally date."
"I would count myself lucky," Blaine laughed, leaning back into her hand. She began to pet right where the wing was and he sighed, relaxing a little. Brittany was very good at getting boys -- and Santana -- to relax. "Why aren't you performing?" Blaine was still staring at his Kurt. They were finishing up, and the song they were singing hit some final notes that made Brittany's toes wiggle and colours swarm the air. She began to tap the beat against his back and Blaine's bouncing foot picked up the rhythm.
"I told Mr Schuester that I wouldn't sing when he was being mean to you." Brittany nodded seriously. "Everyone gets angry because you don't act like how they want, and that's stupid. I like how you act. It's like that sparkling water and pop rocks."
Blaine's wings lifted a little and tickled her palm. Brittany hummed in the quiet of a finished New Directions while Blaine stared at her, all shocked like she had popped a balloon in his face. "Brittany ..." he whispered, throat bobbing like a boat at sea and eyes warm. "Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"We're both really nice," Brittany pointed out. "Too bad about boy hands."
"Too bad indeed," Blaine laughed, before he jumped to his feet, curling a hand around her arm to pull her up with him. "C'mon, let's go sing nicely by ourselves."
"Okay." Brittany grabbed hold of his hand as it fell down and the moment their palms touched Brittany knew that she and Blaine just fit. They weren't just special, they were special together.
***
Blaine frowned at Kurt, who glared back. They were having something of a standoff in the choir room, the rest of New Directions watching their oncoming fight with bated breath. Blaine wished they would at least pretend they weren't eavesdropping, and that Kurt hadn't had such an issue with Blaine messing up their duet. What did he expect, when he hadn't had the time to even practice with Blaine? When Blaine pointed this out, Kurt's gaze got even chillier.
"I didn't realize you needed help with a song we've sung before!" Kurt snapped. "Honestly Blaine, what's gotten into you these past weeks? Do you just hate McKinley? Is this glee club not good enough for you? Am I not good enough for you? Everyone's noticed how off you've been."
Blaine flinched back, fingers twitching. For a second he wished he could throw another chair. Last time, it was because the whole club had banded together to teasingly steal his coffee and throw it out, claiming he needed to lay off the caffeine. One minute Blaine was staring at the milky coffee flooding the garbage pail, next he had crossed the room and calmly flipped a chair. Mr Schuester had given him a time out for that though, and Blaine rather shamefully knew he deserved it, so now he focused on deep breaths. "I'm sorry if the transition hasn't been easy, but it's a lot harder for me than it is for you. I'm not built for public school, and none of you understand why I'm ... excitable."
"Then tell me! What is it? What's the issue?" Kurt held his hands up in defeat, and Blaine felt a surge of guilt. He really was so difficult, him and his stupid condition. It was already driving a wedge between them. Maybe Blaine should tell him ... and get treated differently as a result. It was the same story, time and time again. Blaine would tell someone he had ADHD and they acted like he was a toddler on sugar all the time. Blaine knew he could be difficult, and he had been getting worse, but he hated condescension and pity. So far only Brittany had spoken to him like his defuncts didn't make him deficient.
"Maybe it really is too much coffee," Blaine said evasively, waving away Kurt's disbelieving look. "I've got to use the washroom." Without waiting for Kurt to say something else Blaine strode out of the room, listening to the whispers that erupted behind him as he shut the door. Deciding not to wait, in case Kurt came after him, Blaine strode off down the hall and began to wander aimlessly. Blaine felt pretty shitty overall. His parents had always congratulated him on learning to control his temper, like it hadn't been the result of being diagonosed, medicated and understood for the first time in his life. Maybe that was the problem here. He just wasn't being understood.
"You left your bag," a voice called, and Blaine turned to see Brittany. He was startled to see that he had ended up outside, near the football field. That wasn't paying attention, even for him. What if he had wandered out into the street? Shaking off those worries, Blaine moved closer to Brittany, who immediately placed a hand on his back. They had started to hang out quite a bit recently, and she seemed to have an odd fixation with putting her hands there that she didn't have with anyone else. Blaine just chalked it up to her being her and didn't question it.
"But you didn't bring it," Blaine stated in amusement, and Brittany gave him a sad look.
"I was going to, but I had to make up a reason to leave too and I forgot."
"It's okay, don't worry." Blaine began to stroll again and Brittany kept up with him, hand slipping down his back to tuck into the back pocket of his jeans. He imagined that to an outside observer they looked like any straight highschool couple, and that was comforting in a way Blaine wasn't planning on confronting any time soon. "Want to get ice cream?" Blaine had really liked that place he and Mercedes had gone to on their failed outing, and he figured Brittany would be the type to enjoy sharing the gummy worm and sprinkle-coated special sunday the parlour had.
"Yeah. Should we get your bag? The janitor might sell it to the trolls under the bridge, and they'll get your ID and housekeys." Brittany blinked, eyes sincere as they always were. Blaine loved that about her. "That's a bad thing."
Truthfully, Blaine had already forgotten about that, but Brittany had a point. Still, he wasn't interested in facing the rest of New Directions at the moment. "Kurt will get it for me."
"Kurtie's mad," Brittany whispered like she was telling him a deep dark secret. "You should have more sex with him, that normally works for me when a boy's mad."
Blaine gave a startled laugh, sliding a friendly arm around Brittany's waist and tugging her closer. "I'll propose it at our next Sexual Progress meeting."
Brittany beamed. "Remember to make a graph. That's way important."
"I will," Blaine promised.
***
Brittany licked her spoon slowly, staring at Blaine intently. "I'm sure that would drive any other man wild, but I am gay Brittany," Blaine's wings ruffled a little so Brittany could tell he wasn't mad, so she smiled as she dug her spoon back into the half-eaten sundae which sort of tasted like Santana's mouth and Lord Tubbington's favourite vanilla ice cream.
"I'm practing. Santana lets me practice on her all the time, though she isn't the same gay as you." Brittany replied, cutting a gummi worm in half and pushing it toward Blaine's spoon. His spoon stilled in scooping it up as he gaped at her.
"Santana? You and Santana?" Blaine shook his head as he tapped the sundae dish thoughtfully, the clear noise it gave off reminding Brittany of Kurt and fresh snow. She mimicked the noise, and Blaine replied, and soon they were tapping out a beat on the dish. Brittany didn't really want to talk about Santana, because of how confusing it was due to not being confusing at all. Brittany loved Santana and Santana loved Brittany, and Brittany and Artie had broken up so why weren't they dating? Brittany didn't get it.
Brittany began to sing, the words coming from deep inside of her awesome talent and spilling out to paint the air. Blaine joined in, bouncing in his seat. Halfway through the song he started singing something else and it was so cool, like a mash up. Just as they were getting really into it and totally rocking things some frowny lady came over and told them they were disturbing the other customers.
"But we're awesome." Brittany pointed out fairly. This lady needed her ears cleaned, and Brittany would help but Santana's dad said only a professional could do that. Brittany had had to throw out all her Q-tips because they were amateurs. Her mom hadn't gotten mad. You're so intuitive baby.
Brittany had missed out on some of the conversation, which happened when she got stuck in her thoughts. They were like that scary forest Snow White ran through, grabbing her and tearing at her concentration. Blaine was standing up, wings stiff. "We'll be leaving then. I'll pay at the register?"
"Yes. Your spacey friend can wait outside." Wow, this lady was really rude. That was racist against aliens or something. Blaine looked like he wanted to say something, wings flaring angrily, but then something sad went through his eyes and his wings drooped as low as they had been before Brittany started hanging out with him. Her heart hurt, because she knew Blaine was upset because this lady was being rude to her, even if she didn't understand the lady completely.
"It's okay. I like the sun, and the lady's boring." Brittany jumped to her feet, kissing Blaine good luck on the cheek before skipping out. Looking happy even when she was sad was something Santana taught her, and Brittany trusted Santana, even if faking happiness hurt a lot more than just being honestly sad.
After a little while Blaine came back out, eyes angry. "That woman was the devil!" He hissed, and Brittany threw a worried look back at the shop. "I mean honestly! You're not spacey, or-- or, challenged. Who says that?! Brittany, you just --"
"Have a lot of imagination?" Brittany asked, walking over and sliding her arms around him. She liked hugging Blaine almost as much as hugging Santana so she held him tight, and he relaxed into her arms. She began to rub at the base of his wings and he smiled into her ear.
"You're something else," Blaine murmured. His wings were starting to raise up again and Brittany smiled right back into his ear.
"Better than being someone else." Brittany couldn't imagine how weird that would be, because she loved herself even if people thought she was stupid or too loud or whatever. She hoped Blaine felt the same way, but she was pretty sure he didn't. That was okay -- it just gave her a chance to teach him how to feel like that. If anyone deserved to be able to think back on their day and be happy with how they acted, it was Blaine. He was the greatest guy she knew and she knew a lot of guys.
"Truer words ... truer words."
Brittany frowned.
"I don't think I have anything truer than that."
"Why don't I explain it to you over more ice cream at my place?" Blaine asked sweetly, and Brittany felt like she was shooting sunbeams with her smile. People didn't offer to explain things to her when she got them wrong most of the time. They just called her stupid and let her keep on making mistakes -- but didn't she already known Blaine was different?
They held hands all the way back to his house.
***
Three days later, Brittany led Blaine through the exacting process of making matching locker collages. They spread themselves out on her bedroom floor between construction paper, magazines, glue sticks, scissors, markers and glitter, elbows bumping as they crafted. After careful deliberation Blaine decided to make his simply say: Be True. To himself, to the illness that didn't seem quite so embarassing or daunting anymore; or just plain honesty, because honesty had gotten him a friend where it lost others so it would always be worth it. He added the gold star Brittany had given him ages ago, which had been living on his cell phone as a permanent brightness to his day.
Brittany's said Wings. When he asked why she crawled onto his back like a cat -- she seemed to emulate Lord Tubbington on occasion, something Blaine only half-understood. Half, since Lord Tubbington was easily Blaine's favourite animal ever. So the climbing he got, mostly, but her simple announcement of because I want to help you fly confused him greatly. Blaine chose to just file it away on that long, long list of spectacular things that made Brittany Brittany and let it rest.
The next day Blaine put his collage up and stared at it for a very long time. The sounds of the school faded away and he considered that he and Kurt hadn't shared more than three words since their fight. He remembered the way New Directions continued to get uncomfortable at his attempts to socialize. He thought of the Warblers, and how he could skip days of medicating with them and not worry because he knew they had him. New Directions didn't have him, but Brittany did -- and Brittany wanted to see him fly.
Blaine didn't throw out the pills, but instead of taking two he only took one. The world seemed immediately brighter as a result, almost too much so, and Blaine laughed himself silly at it. He didn't really care about the looks he got, cackling mindlessly at his locker. He didn't really care about anything that people thought. Be true, no matter what.
Blaine intended to follow his own advice for once.
***
Brittany smiled, fingers getting all tangled up in Blaine's. Santana was glaring at them -- she was so confusing -- and Kurt looked upset -- but he ignored Blaine -- and the rest of the their friends looked weirded out. Brittany ignored them, wriggling the toe nails Blaine had half-painted before he started drawing swirls on his skin with the polish. She knew they all thought Blaine was crazy, but with his wings all wide he had never looked happier.
Maybe one day Blaine would fly too, when he didn't call Brittany up yelling and crying because his parents didn't believe he just had an imagination or because Kurt didn't talk to him anymore. She didn't know if those things would get better but she did know that she believed in Blaine, and if he whispered to her very late at night that he would fly soon she knew she would be coming with.
It would be fun.
end