I'd brush the Summer by 2/2 - Glee fic - Kurt/Blaine, PG13
Title: If you were coming in the Fall, I'd brush the Summer by
Fandom: Glee
Disclaimer: not my characters; all of the songs mentioned belong to whoever wrote them; title from Dickinson
Warnings: mental illness; child abuse; mentions of violence/homophobia; slightly AUish; takes place in senior year; a possibly fatal amount of fluff
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, mentions of unrequited Karofsky/Kurt, Burt/Carole, Mr. Anderson/Mrs. Anderson
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 14100
Point of view: third
Prompt:
Blaine is an incredible singer. He loves doing it and he knows that he is amazing. His love of singing stems from the fact that when he performs, he can forget the pressures and abuse of his home and just lose himself in the music. That's why he sings cutesy, fun songs that really don't have much emotional investment.
Then he comes to McKinley and really enjoys singing with New Directions but doesn't know how to react to the homework individual assignments. Mr. Schue assigns some personal topic like "Vulnerability" "Home" "Family".
Blaine has no idea how to really react to the assignment and performs for the group. Mr. Schue pulls him aside and tells him that he really didn't get the assignment and that there was no real emotion in the performance. He asks Blaine to do it again and after a few days he performs again.
This time Blaine throws in all of his anger and resentment towards his family's intolerance of him (maybe even abuse if you want to go there) and gives the best performance of his life. The rest of the Glee Club is stunned by his emotions and suddenly realize that there is a lot more to Blaine than they originally thought.
part 1
Wednesday, Blaine wakes up happy. He kisses Kurt at his locker, offers answers in class, babbles about Pink's latest album, and bounces into glee ready to perform. He fidgets in the seat next to Kurt all through Santana's song, and then when Mr. Schue calls his name, he hops up and hurries to the front for his turn.
This is what he loves, almost as much as he loves Kurt. He can lose himself in the song, sing someone else's story and forget his own.
So he nods his head along to the beat as the music starts and sings, "Well, I remember it all very well lookin' back; it was the summer I turned eighteen…"
Mr. Schuester's expression is hilarious. Everyone else looks shocked, and Puck raises a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing.
Blaine sings the entire song, even the 'controversial' verse that makes clear exactly what Fancy was. He ends with a smile, bowing to his audience.
"Um," Mr. Schue says when the music fades away. "Blaine. That was… unexpected."
Blaine grins and goes back to Kurt's side. Kurt stares at him for a moment, lips pursed, but then he shrugs and grabs Blaine's hand.
"I must admit," he says, "you sang a song about a child being sold into prostitution very well."
"Thanks!" Blaine says. Puck slaps him on the back, still silently laughing.
Mr. Schue continues class, but as everyone gets up to leave, he calls, "Blaine, wait a minute."
"I'll see you at lunch," Kurt murmurs as he heads out.
Mr. Schue gives Blaine a long, searching look as he waits for the room to empty. The last is Mercedes, who shoots Blaine a little wave. He blows her a kiss.
"Blaine," Mr. Schuester says. "You performed your song very well. It was a nice show - but that's all it was. A show."
"What?" Blaine asks.
Mr. Schue shakes his head. "The assignment was to say something you want about your relationship with your parents. Everyone else was honest, but you were performing for us."
Blaine blinks, asking, "But… wasn't that the assignment?"
"No, Blaine." Mr. Schue shakes his head again. "You've been doing it all year: putting on a show. All the emotion is an act and you're a consummate performer."
Blaine opens his mouth, but Mr. Schue says, "I've been waiting for something more from you. Even Santana and Lauren showed more honesty than you today."
He hadn't thought of it as lying. He wanted a song that showed endurance. "Fancy was a survivor, Mr. Schue. She overcame everything."
Mr. Schue looks at him. "That was your message? Overcoming parents who may or may not have done their best?" Blaine nods. "That's not the message I got, Blaine."
Blaine goes to say something, but Mr. Schue holds up his hand. "I want honesty from you. Next Monday, you'll sing again. You won't be performing, you won't be putting on a show. Okay? Just you, singing from the heart."
"Yes, Mr. Schuester," Blaine murmurs, walking out without another word.
0o0
Blaine knows that what happened to him after the Sadie Hawkins dance was horrible; he spent four days in the hospital, then a week at home: broken wrist, bruised and cracked ribs, and a fairly bad concussion that left him with a lingering headache. The anti-psychotic medication his mother gave him only made things worse.
Despite the pain, despite the fear, Blaine would take what happened to him over what happened to Kurt. Blaine's bullying was always straightforward - taunts, property damage and defacing, a few shoves, and then the dance. It only happened for a year, after he came out at the beginning of ninth grade. Middle school had been fine.
But Kurt? He was thrown into dumpsters and against lockers and stalked and kissed and threatened with worse - any day of the week, Blaine would take broken ribs over what Karofsky did in those last few weeks before Kurt's transfer.
Two days after they met, after Blaine flirted through song and gave Kurt advice he'd have never worked up the courage to follow himself, Kurt called. Blaine was in class, so he didn't answer. But right after, he called back and said, "Hey, Kurt. What's up?"
Kurt sounded calm. He also sounded brittle. There was a tiny tremor in the words when he said, "Hi, Blaine."
"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine demanded, pausing mid-step.
"I know why Karofsky hates me so much," Kurt said, voice small. "I wish… I wish I didn't know, Blaine."
"Kurt, where are you? I'll be there soon, I promise. Are you safe?" Blaine hurried towards the front hall; he didn't even think about going to the office to check out, and he'd just deal with the demerits or reprimand later.
"Blaine, I'm fine. I'm home. But…" Kurt's voice trailed off. "Blaine? Would you… tomorrow? Would you help me talk to him?"
"Kurt, what happened?" Blaine asked, leaning against the wall. "Please, just tell me. I'm really worried here."
The calm shattered; he heard what sounded like a muffled sob and closed his eyes. "Kurt," he said softly.
"He kissed me, Blaine," Kurt said. "I confronted him, and he grabbed my face, and he kissed me."
Blaine's mouth dropped open. "What?" He went to say about a dozen things and finally settled on, "I am so sorry, Kurt. I don't… I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Kurt whispered, voice less shaky. "Me, too."
"I'll be there," Blaine vowed. "Tomorrow. I'll help you."
He straightened up and turned, heading to his room instead of the parking lot. "Tell me your favorite song," he suggested. "Or anything you want. Just talk to me."
"At the moment," Kurt said, laughing slightly, "it's 'Teenage Dream'. Katy Perry's got nothing on you, Blaine."
Blaine chuckled, carrying the conversation forward.
It'd be half a year before he realized he'd fallen in love.
0o0
Blaine doesn't focus on his next two classes. He replays his performance, wondering where he went wrong. He thought he'd done well, but apparently it was a lie. How could it be a lie? He picked a song conveying strength and endurance, overcoming hardship. A story where the child succeeds despite the mother. Where the child ends up at the top.
And Blaine always puts on a show. Loses himself in the music, pretends to be someone else. But Mr. Schue wants something different. Something 'real.' Whatever that means.
"Blaine?" Kurt says as he drops into his chair. "Is something wrong?"
Blaine shrugs, leaning against Kurt, burying his face in Kurt's shoulder. "Mr. Schue called me a liar," he mutters. "I have to sing the truth next week."
"Schue called you what?" Kurt hisses, his arm coming up around Blaine's shoulder.
Sighing, Blaine sits up, glancing into Kurt's eyes before looking away. "A liar," he repeats ignoring everyone at the table: Mercedes, Tina, Artie, and Rachel. "And I am one. Every time I sing, it's not me singing. It's someone else's story. That's why I like singing."
Kurt gapes at him. "Blaine, you're not a liar."
He shrugs. "Compared to everyone else, I am."
"So, what are you singing next week?" Mercedes asks.
"He's not singing anything next week," Kurt snaps. "Because Schue is being unreasonable."
"I don't think he is," Mercedes says. "Blaine, you did a good job… but it wasn't you singing, you know?"
"What are you talking about?" Kurt demands. "He sang like he always does and it was wonderful like it always is."
"Kurt," Blaine says softly, grabbing his hand. "It's okay. I'll come up with a song for Monday, and I'll sing it, and Mr. Schue will either like it or he won't." He shrugs again. "Not much I can do about it."
"But you shouldn't have to," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's hand.
"I don't want to be a liar, Kurt." Blaine uses his free hand to snag a chip from Kurt's tray since he'd forgotten to grab any food on his way to the table. "So even if I have to write a song, I'll convince Mr. Schuester that I can do more than perform."
Lyrics pop into his head then, so he quickly pulls away from Kurt's hand and grabs the first notebook he touches, jotting down
Your meds don't work for me
My hands are still burning
And my arm, it aches
Shouldn't you love me?
I don't know what's so wrong with meThat you don't
What's so wrong with me?
I'm your son
Your burden
Blaine drops the pen, slamming the notebook shut. No way he could sing that in a room full of people he barely knew, and definitely not in front of anyone he knew well.
He has to find a song. He isn't much of a lyricist, and he simply can't bare so much.
"Blaine," Kurt says.
"Don't worry," Blaine murmurs. "I'll tell you. Next week. After I sing. I'll tell you."
Kurt presses a quick kiss to the side of Blaine's head. "I love you," he whispers.
Puck plops down on Blaine's other side, slinging an arm across his shoulders. "'s'up, dude," he greets Blaine, not sparing anyone else a look. "Tell me about the climax of Jane Eyre." He imbues 'climax' with the dirtiest connotation Blaine has ever heard, leering.
Blaine laughs, settling into his grip, and asks, "How far did you get?"
0o0
Mom played the piano, violin, and cello. Dad knew the drums, though he didn't play anymore. Blaine learned piano basics from his mom, in the golden years before the fire. He taught himself the guitar later.
He never plays the piano in the den. It had been his mother's, moved in from her parents' house, and every time he sat on the bench, he felt her judging him. He was always wanting in her eyes. Blaine knows it was her illness, and not her fault, but that never makes the hurt any less.
0o0
Blaine feels better for his afternoon classes, participating and taking notes. He smiles and jokes, and asks Dave how his day is going when they pass in the hall.
Dave gives him a wide-eyed look, mutters, "Fine," and hurries away.
Kurt meets him as he puts his history book in his locker. "Follow me home?" Kurt murmurs, leaning against the locker and trying to look at Blaine through his lashes.
Blaine laughs. "That'd work better if you weren't three inches taller than me."
Kurt huffs, straightening up to his full height. "Well, fine," he says, attempting a haughty look, but a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
Blaine nods. "I am," he says.
At Kurt's house, he asks, "Wanna help me make cookies?"
"Sure," Blaine says. "I won't be any better than last time, though." Blaine can throw together a meal, but he's not much of a baker.
Kurt smiles, pulling Blaine in for a simple kiss that quickly becomes more complicated.
Twenty minutes pass before they start the dough. Kurt lets Blaine break both the eggs and dump in the chocolate chips. Only half the dough ends up as cookies - the other half is shared between Kurt and Blaine as they cuddle on the couch.
Just before Blaine heads home, Kurt says, "You don't have to sing on Monday, Blaine."
Blaine replies, "Yes, I do."
0o0
The first Halloween Blaine can remember, he went trick-or-treating as Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty. He memorized all the songs from the movie and sang lines from them instead of saying, "Trick or treat!" at every house.
Up until he discovered Pink, 'I Wonder' was his favorite song.
0o0
On Thursday and Friday, Blaine tutors Puck about how to spiff himself up for college admissions and they hammer out where Puck will apply. Blaine also teaches him about critical reading and how to remember all the boring history facts that go in one ear and out the other.
Blaine and Kurt go out for ice cream Friday night, after the Hudmel dinner, and they discuss which Disney prince is the best while sharing a hot fudge sundae.
Blaine ardently defends Phillip, of course. Kurt raises a spirited argument in favor of Eric from The Little Mermaid. Eventually, they decide to concede that Flynn Rider is the coolest, though he isn't an actual prince.
On the way back to Kurt's house, Blaine queues up his Disney playlist and they sing along.
"You do admit Ursula still has the best villain song?" Kurt asks as Blaine walks him to the door.
"Well, of course," Blaine says. "The Shadow Man comes close, and Scar's amazing, but Ursula… she's in a league all her own."
"Good," Kurt says, lacing his fingers together on the back of Blaine's neck and pulling him in.
Blaine's still grinning when he gets back in his car. He hums along to the music but doesn't really listen until he hears, "Me? I'm just your mother - what do I know? I only bathed and changed and nursed you."
"Oh," he breathes, playing the song over. He repeats it all the way home.
Yes. Definitely. He'll sing this song.
0o0
After the fire, Dad trusted Mom less, but still left her and Blaine alone a lot. Mom was actually around less than Dad knew, so Blaine had time to himself. He focused on reading and music, and found the History channel fascinating.
Mom never seemed to realize she did anything wrong. Blaine left her alone as much as he could, but sometimes she wanted to hang out, watch movies or cook with him. The first time she held his hand to a lit candle was when he was nine and refused to watch Psycho with her. (Much later, he'd realize the irony.)
He didn't see Dad for a week, so his hand barely even hurt when he finally told, and Dad didn't believe him. Dad didn't have time to believe him, so Blaine didn't mention anything else for a long while.
0o0
On Saturday, Kurt has plans with Mercedes, Dad's meeting a client for a takeover, and the Warblers are practicing for Sectionals, so Blaine doesn't leave the house. He watches Tangled on his laptop three times in a row, transcribes the lyrics and music to Mother Gothel's villain song, and rearranges it to fit him. A few things need to be dropped and tweaked for it to work, he decides.
He stops for a late lunch/early supper, playing the song on repeat on his phone. It hurts each time through.
After he eats, Blaine plays the music on his guitar without singing the words, then plays it again, humming along. Finally, he sings and plays together. Then, he sings it without music.
Yes. No music. Just him and the shade of his mother.
He goes to bed at nine, turning off the light and texting Kurt I love you.
Blaine dreams about flames and a dance and Kurt. In his dream, the gym is on fire, Kurt's screaming, and Blaine dies trying to reach him.
0o0
On Sunday, a week after Blaine came out to his dad, three days after he came out to his mom, Dad asked, "What happened to your hand?"
"Nothing," Blaine said, covering the hurt one with his other hand and hiding both beneath the table. "I burned myself on the stove."
Dad frowned at him. "Why were you using the stove?"
Blaine looked at Mom. She daintily cut up her Salisbury Steak and didn't even glance his way. "I always cook supper," Blaine said.
Dad put down his fork. "How long have you been cooking, Blaine?" he asked quietly.
"Just… just a few years," Blaine stammered out. "Mom runs errands in the evening, so I throw something simple together." Dad turned his frown on Mom and Blaine panicked because Mom met Dad's gaze and she looked angry. "It's not a big deal!" he said. "I don't mind!"
"Don't give me that look, Robert," Mom said. "I'm busy, you know that. Blaine's a good cook."
"Blaine, "Dad said. "Show me your hand."
He looked at Mom. She smiled; he shuddered, shoved his chair back from the table, and ran upstairs.
0o0
"Finn and the boys are having a wii marathon," Kurt says, sounding annoyed. "I promised to invite you. Would you like to come over and squish mushrooms?"
Blaine laughs. "Don't act like you don't love it," he replies. "Who always pushes everyone off cliffs or into lava pits?"
"Well, fine," Kurt says. "They're just very… loud. I was hoping for a quiet morning, but apparently when there's a day-long Mario game waiting, they're all up at the crack of dawn."
Pushing his cereal around in the bowl, Blaine asks, "Did you have anything in mind for the day? My schedule is wide open until three, when I promised to go listen to the Warblers."
"I hear the Gap is having a sale," Kurt teases.
"Guess I'll be playing Mario, then," Blaine shoots back, letting the spoon fall. "And after we kill everyone off, we can go celebrate in your room." He pauses. "Are your parents home?"
"Nope." Kurt draws the word out, popping the 'p.' "They'll be back from Columbus late. Your dad?"
"A major client had some sort of crisis. He'll be home early tomorrow morning, if he comes home at all." Blaine stands and, leaving the bowl on the table, heads upstairs. "So, Mario or a completely empty house?"
"I have an idea," Kurt says, using his low voice. Blaine really likes that voice. "I'll be there soon."
Blaine's saying, "Kurt, what-" when Kurt hangs up. He pouts at his phone for a minute and then hurries to his room. If he derails Kurt's train of thought with a laughable outfit, it'll suck. He snorts at the thought, muttering, "No pun intended."
0o0
Blaine could hear yelling, when he crept out of his room to go shower. His hand hurt; after he finished, he bandaged it and tried to sneak back to his room, but Mom caught him.
"Blaine," she called. Dad's country playlist filled the first floor, so Blaine barely heard her, but he couldn't pretend he hadn't. He didn't want to trigger a rage.
"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, walking to her. He carefully stayed out of reach. Her smile was gentle and it terrified him.
"You are such a good boy," Mom told him. "The best of all boys. I just wish you were more like me, but there's so much of your father in you. You shouldn't be serious all the time, sweetie." She stepped forward, putting her hands on his shoulders. They were the same height, and had the same eyes, and Blaine felt trapped by her firm grip.
"Mom, I should go to sleep," he said, trying to pull away. Her hands latched onto his right arm. His right hand throbbed.
"Blaine," she murmured, hands tightening. "Blaine, you have to try to be better." She pulled him forward; he jerked back, lost his footing, and his arm twisted. He gasped at the pain, and Mom let him go, and he hit the floor with a muffled thump, cradling his arm against his chest. He looked up at Mom.
He couldn't hide this. He didn't want to hide this. He was so tired.
Mom stalked past him and slammed her bedroom door.
"Dad!" Blaine yelled. "Dad, I need help!"
Blaine scooted backwards until he hit the wall. He let his head thump against it and closed his eyes and tried not to pass out, but his arm really hurt.
He never did remember much more from that night. But when he went home from the hospital, Mom wasn't there. He didn't see her for a week.
Dad made excuses, and she did come home eventually, but Blaine was icily polite, when he acknowledged her at all.
0o0
Kurt's idea involves Elphaba, Fiyero, and 'As Long As You're Mine." There is no fade to black.
After they catch their breath, Blaine serenades Kurt with 'Dancing Through Life,' spinning him around the den, and Kurt absolutely kills 'No Good Deed.'
Kurt collapses on the couch, and he is breathtakingly beautiful. Blaine tells him to wait and hurries to the kitchen to throw together some sandwiches. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed while they reenacted Wicked.
"We should have a soundtrack day in glee," Blaine muses, walking back into the den and sitting next to Kurt, handing him one of the sandwiches. He smiles , watching Kurt inhale it, eating his own in four bites. "Or a theater day. Definitely a Disney day."
"You suggest it," Kurt says, "and I'll second it. Rachel will third it, for sure."
Blaine chuckles. "I doubt Mr. Schuester would go for it, even if Finn was the first to bring it up."
"Yeah," Kurt says. "Saddening though it is." He leans over, tucking his head under Blaine's chin, stretching out on the couch.
A few minutes pass in comfortable silence until Kurt asks quietly, "What will you sing tomorrow?"
"It's a surprise," Blaine says, equally quietly. "And… it'll be as honest and emotional as Schue could ever want."
Kurt sits up, tightening his grip on Blaine's hand. Blaine looks at him for just a moment before averting his glance. He didn't mean to sound that bitter, or that angry. "Blaine, you don't have to sing."
Blaine sits up, too, stroking Kurt's fingers with his own. "Come with me to see the Warblers," he says. "Thad took over for Wes; I'm sure he'd love to hear your thoughts about their performance."
Kurt just looks at him, but Blaine waits in silence. Finally, Kurt lets him have his out and nods. "If you're quite certain I won't be accused of spying."
As they're going out the door, Blaine uses their linked hands to pull Kurt back to face him. "Come home with me tomorrow," he says. "I'll tell you everything."
Nodding again, Kurt embraces him. "Everything will be fine," Kurt promises.
Blaine can only hope.
0o0
Dad seemed far more hesitant to leave Mom in charge after the arm incident. Blaine was just glad he hit a growth spurt and grew three inches so that he was bigger than Mom.
Mom acted better for a few months, long enough for Dad to lower his guard. Not Blaine, though. He'd lived through her good patches before. The plunge she took was always worse than he could imagine.
Blaine asked his friend Marty to the Sadie Hawkins dance. They were both freshmen, gay, and out. He and Marty were just friends, though they'd experimented a little. Marty was a few inches taller than Blaine and interested in science, computers, and special effects.
After the dance, a group of upperclassmen jocks waited in the parking lot. Blaine fared better than Marty because Marty tried fighting back. Blaine just protected his head and middle, trying to survive.
Marty was sent to live with his grandparents in California as soon as he healed enough to fly. Blaine was transferred to Dalton.
But while he was still laid up, Mom gave him her meds instead of his, and he didn't realize that until a day later, after he'd been rushed back to the hospital.
0o0
The Warblers perform well, as always. Their harmonies are pitch-perfect; Kurt offers minor critique that has Thad nodding and promising to consider.
After they leave, Blaine takes Kurt to an early supper at a little-known Italian place. It completely blows Breadstix out of the water and Kurt waxes poetic about his chicken alfredo. Blaine watches Kurt for a minutes as he segues into his mother's cooking and how he can't equal her chicken marsala, though he's tried. "Dad tells me that it's the same, but I can taste the difference," he says. "I've tried, like, half a dozen times. It's not the same."
"You'll get it one day," Blaine assures him. Kurt smiles, reaching across the table to take his hand. That smile gives him the courage to say, "My song tomorrow… it's for my mom. To my mom."
Kurt's smile turns quizzical, but he squeezes Blaine's hand.
"She's… not like your mom was," Blaine adds, staring at their clasped hands.
"Are your parents divorced?" Kurt asks gently.
"No." Blaine shakes his head. He licks his lips, darting a glance at Kurt before looking around for their server. "I want a piece of that fudge cake," he says. "What about you?"
Kurt says, "I'll share yours," stroking Blaine's fingers before pulling his hand back. He waits until the dessert order is in before asking, "Why don't we call soccer 'football' like everyone else?"
It's a blatantly obvious subject change, to a topic he doesn't care about, just so Blaine can think about something else. Every day, Kurt gives Blaine more reasons to love him.
So he explains. They share the cake, split the bill, and Kurt spends the ride back to Blaine's house talking about his latest playwriting attempt: a bullied drama nerd who falls in love with the most popular boy in school and woos him with a baseball game.
"Isn't that the plot of High School Musical 2?" Blaine asks as he pulls into the driveway.
"Not exactly," Kurt says. "There are similarities, though."
Blaine laughs. Kurt leans over to kiss him. "Don't stay here alone tonight," he murmurs into Blaine's mouth. "Dad will understand."
Bringing a hand up to Kurt's face, Blaine shifts his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder, wishing with all his might he could just crawl into Kurt and be safe and warm forever.
"I can't," he says.
He walks Kurt to his car, kisses him goodnight, and trudges into his empty, dark house, up the stairs, and to the bathroom. He showers in water as hot as he can stand, towels off with rough, hard strokes, and trudges into his empty, dark room.
The sun has barely begun to set. He texts Kurt I love you. See you tomorrow. and curls up under the covers.
That night, Blaine dreams of his mother and candles and Kurt turning away because of Blaine's ghosts.
0o0
Mom never came home. Dad told Blaine that she had to stay at the hospital for a little while. Blaine spent a week in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom or grab a new book. He finished his freshmen year as a correspondence student, something his dad arranged, and went to Dalton in the fall.
Blaine washed his hands of his mother during the break between semesters his sophomore year. He didn't tell anyone for a long time (not till Kurt); he only told his father he never wanted to see her again.
(He kept his word - he never even saw her once after that cold, bright winter day.)
0o0
On Monday, Blaine wakes an hour early but stays in bed until his alarm shrieks. He takes a very hot shower and, as he's staring at himself in the mirror, decides to forego his usual hair gel. So he dries off and lets his hair do whatever it wants.
For breakfast, he has applesauce, bacon, and peanut butter toast. He drinks a glass of chocolate milk, texts Kurt a good morning, and calls a goodbye to his dad's bedroom door.
Kurt meets him in McKinley's parking lot, with a soft kiss and big hug. "I like your hair," he says, threading his left hand through it. "It's very bouncy."
Kurt's seen his hair wild before, but it's getting long again, and he usually had other things to focus on. Blaine laughs. "My hair's a mess. That's why I always gel it, ever since Dalton." He smiles at Kurt, letting go of his apprehension, focusing on his boyfriend's voice and eyes and hands.
"Tell me I can sing," he says, stepping in close. Finn and Puck are loitering near, so Blaine ignores everything but Kurt.
And Kurt puts both his hands on Blaine's face, meets his eyes and tells him, "You can sing, Blaine. You will sing. And Schue'll eat his words."
Blaine smiles again. Puck and Finn saunter - well, Puck saunters. Finn stumbles when he tries - over, flanking them. Blaine tucks himself under Kurt's arm and they walk together. Puck asks about literary language, Finn provides half-remembered (and wrong) examples from Rachel, and Kurt sets them straight, asiding to Blaine about silly boys. Blaine just listens, letting the banality calm him.
Kurt believes in him. Kurt doesn't think he's a liar. Kurt loves him.
So Blaine leaves Kurt when the warning bell rings, going to physics. Puck lightly slaps his shoulder as he passes, going to his own physics class.
Two hours until he sings. Blaine takes his notes in those classes longhand, writing down everything his teachers say.
And then he walks into the choir room. Kurt hurries to him, takes his hand, leads him to their chairs. Puck's already sprawled in one, holding Jane Eyre.
Blaine pauses, looking at him. Puck smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Rochester's wife sounds cool. Why isn't the book about her?"
"Because the title is Jane Eyre," Blaine says dryly, sitting next to him. Kurt settles on Blaine's other side.
Kurt says, "There is a book about Rochester's wife. I can't remember what it's called…" He pulls out his iPhone as Mr. Schuester calls them to order.
Blaine's calm vanishes. He takes a deep breath. He wasn't this nervous for his Warbler audition or his New Directions audition or his first day at either school. He wasn't this nervous when he danced with Marty or his appointments with Dr. Fresan.
"Now," Mr. Schuester says, "Blaine will sing for us."
Oh, crap.
Kurt leans in and whispers, "Knock 'em dead, babe."
Yes. It'll be so emotional Schue won't be able to stop weeping.
So Blaine stands and slowly walks down the riser. "No music," he tells Mr. Brad.
He meets Kurt's eyes, then looks past him, back at his seven-year-old, tear-stained face, at his burned hand and broken arm.
"You want to go outside?" he asks. "Oh, my darling, why?" He slows the tempo down, singing the talking parts, injecting a laughing tone, "Look at you, as fragile as a flower. Still a little sapling, just a sprout. You know why we stay up in this tower - that's right: to keep you safe and sound, dear."
Blaine lets his eyes run over all of them. They're listening, but don't know the song yet. It sounds rough. Painful. It is. His heart aches, and he keeps singing, throwing every scar, every bruise and burn, every last tear into the song.
"Guess I always knew this day was coming," he bites out, glancing at Schue and then away. "Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest. Soon, but not yet. Shh, trust me, pet," he cajoles. "Mother knows best."
This is as honest as he's ever been.
"Mother knows best," he sings softly, gently, then hardening the words to add, "Listen to your mother; it's a scary world out there. Mother knows best. One way or another, something will go wrong, I swear."
The first list is reeled off viciously, Blaine flinging the words like stones, watching with a dark sort of delight as they hit Mr. Schuester. "Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy," he sings, "Quicksand, cannibals, and snakes - the plague! Also, large bugs, men with pointy teeth - and, stop, no more, you'll just upset me."
Gentle again comes, "Mother's right here, Mother will protect you." And then, Blaine infuses the next part with a bitter twist of irony, "Darling, here's what I suggest: Skip the drama, stay with Mama. Mother knows best."
He pauses, picturing Mom's face as he starts the next part softly, working his way up to shouting the last two lines: "Go ahead, get trampled by a rhino. Go ahead, get mugged and left for dead. Me, I'm just your mother, what do I know? I only bathed and changed and nursed you." A deep breath, another glance at Kurt - tears on his cheeks, one hand covering his mouth, the other clenched in a fist.
Blaine sings, almost gently, "Go ahead and leave me, I deserve it. Let me die alone here, be my guest. When it's too late, you'll see, just wait: Mother knows best." Another laugh infused in the words, he's nearly smiling when he continues, "Mother knows best. Take it from your mumsy - On your own you won't survive."
His voice breaks on the second list; only looking at Kurt gives him the push to finish it. "Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy. Please, they'll eat you up alive. Gullible, naïve, positively grubby, ditzy and a bit...well, vague. Plus I believe you're getting kind of chubby."
He feels Mom's hand on his arm, fire on his palm, and her voice is loud in his mind when he sings, "I'm just saying cause I wuv you." He even uses the cutesy voice from the movie, and it hurts. Of course it does. But he powers through it, and his voice is strong on, "Mother understands, Mother's here to help you - All I have is one request."
The end is so close. A miniscule pause, a quick breath, and he practically screams, "Don't ever ask to leave this tower again."
He's gentle again, murmuring, "Oh, I love you very much, dear. I know you love me more, but I love you the most."
Mom's face, the last time he saw her. The last time he'll ever see her. Wild dark hair, his own eyes - the eyes he sees in the mirror every goddamned day. He finishes softly, with a broken little sigh. "Don't forget it. You'll regret it. Mother knows best."
There are tears on his face. He doesn't look at anyone. He stands there, eyes closed, listening to the silence, and then he spins in place, rushing from the room.
"Wait, Blaine," Schue calls, but Blaine ignores him. He hears Kurt say something, in a cold, low voice, and then he's too far away to hear anything else.
He's in the locker room, the next time he notices where he is, doubled over. And Kurt is standing in the doorway, looking at him. Blaine stands up, arms still wrapped around himself.
"Schue will apologize, the next time he sees you," Kurt says, sounding normal. "I'm here to take you home. We'll cut school for the rest of the day. I think we should go home and watch both Princess Diaries movies and eat ice-cream drowning in chocolate sauce and cuddle."
"That… that sounds nice," Blaine admits, rubbing at his face. "I'm sorry I freaked out."
Kurt gives him the you're so adorable and I love you and you're an idiot but I love you anyway smile. "Don't be sorry, Blaine. You didn't do anything wrong."
Mr. Schue can't say that was acting. Nothing in that song was a performance. Blaine's heart still aches, and his eyes are burning - fuck, he's crying again.
Hurrying over, Kurt says, "Blaine, Blaine, it's okay."
"My mom," Blaine says desperately, unable to keep it in anymore. "She, she's like Gothel, okay? But she's sick, so it's not her fault. It's not her fault, the things she did, the things she said-she's sick. It didn't matter what I did, it was never good enough, but it wasn't her fault." He collapses against the wall, sinking down to the ground. "It wasn't her fault."
"Blaine," Kurt says gently, kneeling next to him. "Blaine, if it wasn't her fault… it wasn't yours, either." He pulls Blaine to him; Blaine is pliant in his grip, letting Kurt arrange him however he likes. Blaine just focuses on Kurt's breath, trying to match it. Slowly, the tears lessen. Finally, the tears stop.
"Take me home," Blaine whispers.
He doesn't even think about his house. He wants Kurt's bed and his soft sheets and the muted colors of his walls, every single decoration and piece of furniture picked with care.
"C'mon," Kurt says, pulling Blaine to his feet on his way up. "Let's go home."
0o0
Blaine's dad is a nice guy. He's always known that. He's still not entirely sure what his dad does - definitely some kind of lawyer, but beyond that? He's asked, but what Dad explained made no sense.
Mom had a job before she had Blaine. She was a baker. She used to talk about teaching Blaine some of her recipes, the ones with secret ingredients.
Needless to say, that didn't exactly work out.
0o0
Blaine spends the night in Kurt's bed. He doesn't leave Kurt's room, not even to use the bathroom. He overhears a hushed, hurried conversation with Mr. Hummel, and then Finn, but Kurt is the only person to go in or out of the room until the next morning.
"Do you want to go to school?" Kurt asks softly, his fingers warm around Blaine's, his lips next to Blaine's ear.
Blaine shakes his head, burrowing further under the blankets, eyes still closed.
"I'll tell Dad," Kurt says, gently pulling away.
A few minutes later, as Blaine's almost asleep, Kurt slips back into bed and pulls him close.
"School?" Blaine mumbles.
Kurt murmurs, "I'm horribly ill. Vomiting everywhere. And what do you know? I'm so contagious my boyfriend's infected, too. Maybe we'll be well enough tomorrow."
Blaine loves this boy. So much.
0o0
Mom has a Bachelor's in music. What she ever intended to do with it, Blaine doesn't know. But she moved to Ohio with Dad, began baking, gave birth to her only child, and suffered some sort of mental break - or maybe, problems she'd always had simply surfaced and Blaine was the only available target.
Dad has a law degree, a seven-days-a-week job, and enough money that paying medical bills and Dalton's tuition was pocket-change.
Blaine has never wanted in a physical sense. His weekly allowance is enough to buy books, music, clothes, and videogames. He has a nice house, a nice car, nice clothes, the newest iPhone, the coolest NOOK. Until he came out, he was fairly well-liked. At Dalton, he was popular. At McKinley, he's a gleek and a fairy (no one has the courage to say worse things in his hearing since Karofsky began protecting Kurt).
Blaine will apply to a dozen colleges on the east and west coasts. He knows that Kurt has his heart set on New York, but they haven't worked up the nerve for that conversation yet.
0o0
Blaine and Kurt crawl out of bed around noon. They shower together; Kurt gently washes Blaine's hair and kisses his shoulder after the conditioner is all out.
"I love you," he whispers into Blaine's skin, pulling Blaine into his arms, chest to back, lacing his fingers on Blaine's stomach.
Blaine turns in his hold, looking up at him. Kurt has tears trailing down his cheeks; Blaine kisses them away.
They go back to bed. Lunch doesn't happen for two more hours.
0o0
The first time he ever saw Kurt, Blaine was running late. He wasn't' nervous about the performance; since his first audition for the Warblers, Blaine felt completely at ease within Dalton's walls. Even competitions and shows performed in Dalton's uniform were no problem.
He is nervous at McKinley. There are no uniforms, no armor beyond Kurt's smile.
It's enough.
0o0
"What did you tell your dad?" Blaine asks while Briar Rose dances with Phillip.
Kurt kisses his hair and says, "That the man I love needed me and nothing would move me from his side."
Blaine burrows further into Kurt. Sometimes he wishes he were the larger one so he could hold Kurt and protect him. More than once, he's wished he were Puck or Finn or even Karofsky's size. But this, being surrounded by Kurt, it is wonderful. He feels safe and warm and so very loved.
"You amaze me," he says. "Every day, it's like I never saw you before."
"You're so silly." Kurt chuckles; Blaine can hear the blush in his voice.
Maleficent stalks across the screen. Blaine sighs - she is his favorite Disney villain. Everything about her is extraordinary. "Her voice," he murmurs. "Sometimes I want to crawl into it so I can be that awesome."
Kurt laughs. "She's Cinderella's stepmom, you know."
"And her voice was awesome then, too," Blaine replies, shifting around to get a better view as Maleficent taunts Phillip. "I wish she had a villain song."
"We should write one," Kurt says. "Surely our voices together are almost as awesome."
"No," Blaine says. "Together our voices are totally awesome, even awesomer than Maleficent's."
A small break for kissing later, Kurt says, "'Awesomer' is a not a word, Blaine."
"Sure it is," Blaine retorts, pulling back so he can stand. He holds out a hand and Kurt gives him the oh, I love you, breathtaking smile as he lets Blaine pull him to his feet. "The definition of 'awesomer' is you," Blaine says, and they dance with Aurora and Phillip until Finn comes home.
Fandom: Glee
Disclaimer: not my characters; all of the songs mentioned belong to whoever wrote them; title from Dickinson
Warnings: mental illness; child abuse; mentions of violence/homophobia; slightly AUish; takes place in senior year; a possibly fatal amount of fluff
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, mentions of unrequited Karofsky/Kurt, Burt/Carole, Mr. Anderson/Mrs. Anderson
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 14100
Point of view: third
Prompt:
Blaine is an incredible singer. He loves doing it and he knows that he is amazing. His love of singing stems from the fact that when he performs, he can forget the pressures and abuse of his home and just lose himself in the music. That's why he sings cutesy, fun songs that really don't have much emotional investment.
Then he comes to McKinley and really enjoys singing with New Directions but doesn't know how to react to the homework individual assignments. Mr. Schue assigns some personal topic like "Vulnerability" "Home" "Family".
Blaine has no idea how to really react to the assignment and performs for the group. Mr. Schue pulls him aside and tells him that he really didn't get the assignment and that there was no real emotion in the performance. He asks Blaine to do it again and after a few days he performs again.
This time Blaine throws in all of his anger and resentment towards his family's intolerance of him (maybe even abuse if you want to go there) and gives the best performance of his life. The rest of the Glee Club is stunned by his emotions and suddenly realize that there is a lot more to Blaine than they originally thought.
part 1
Wednesday, Blaine wakes up happy. He kisses Kurt at his locker, offers answers in class, babbles about Pink's latest album, and bounces into glee ready to perform. He fidgets in the seat next to Kurt all through Santana's song, and then when Mr. Schue calls his name, he hops up and hurries to the front for his turn.
This is what he loves, almost as much as he loves Kurt. He can lose himself in the song, sing someone else's story and forget his own.
So he nods his head along to the beat as the music starts and sings, "Well, I remember it all very well lookin' back; it was the summer I turned eighteen…"
Mr. Schuester's expression is hilarious. Everyone else looks shocked, and Puck raises a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing.
Blaine sings the entire song, even the 'controversial' verse that makes clear exactly what Fancy was. He ends with a smile, bowing to his audience.
"Um," Mr. Schue says when the music fades away. "Blaine. That was… unexpected."
Blaine grins and goes back to Kurt's side. Kurt stares at him for a moment, lips pursed, but then he shrugs and grabs Blaine's hand.
"I must admit," he says, "you sang a song about a child being sold into prostitution very well."
"Thanks!" Blaine says. Puck slaps him on the back, still silently laughing.
Mr. Schue continues class, but as everyone gets up to leave, he calls, "Blaine, wait a minute."
"I'll see you at lunch," Kurt murmurs as he heads out.
Mr. Schue gives Blaine a long, searching look as he waits for the room to empty. The last is Mercedes, who shoots Blaine a little wave. He blows her a kiss.
"Blaine," Mr. Schuester says. "You performed your song very well. It was a nice show - but that's all it was. A show."
"What?" Blaine asks.
Mr. Schue shakes his head. "The assignment was to say something you want about your relationship with your parents. Everyone else was honest, but you were performing for us."
Blaine blinks, asking, "But… wasn't that the assignment?"
"No, Blaine." Mr. Schue shakes his head again. "You've been doing it all year: putting on a show. All the emotion is an act and you're a consummate performer."
Blaine opens his mouth, but Mr. Schue says, "I've been waiting for something more from you. Even Santana and Lauren showed more honesty than you today."
He hadn't thought of it as lying. He wanted a song that showed endurance. "Fancy was a survivor, Mr. Schue. She overcame everything."
Mr. Schue looks at him. "That was your message? Overcoming parents who may or may not have done their best?" Blaine nods. "That's not the message I got, Blaine."
Blaine goes to say something, but Mr. Schue holds up his hand. "I want honesty from you. Next Monday, you'll sing again. You won't be performing, you won't be putting on a show. Okay? Just you, singing from the heart."
"Yes, Mr. Schuester," Blaine murmurs, walking out without another word.
0o0
Blaine knows that what happened to him after the Sadie Hawkins dance was horrible; he spent four days in the hospital, then a week at home: broken wrist, bruised and cracked ribs, and a fairly bad concussion that left him with a lingering headache. The anti-psychotic medication his mother gave him only made things worse.
Despite the pain, despite the fear, Blaine would take what happened to him over what happened to Kurt. Blaine's bullying was always straightforward - taunts, property damage and defacing, a few shoves, and then the dance. It only happened for a year, after he came out at the beginning of ninth grade. Middle school had been fine.
But Kurt? He was thrown into dumpsters and against lockers and stalked and kissed and threatened with worse - any day of the week, Blaine would take broken ribs over what Karofsky did in those last few weeks before Kurt's transfer.
Two days after they met, after Blaine flirted through song and gave Kurt advice he'd have never worked up the courage to follow himself, Kurt called. Blaine was in class, so he didn't answer. But right after, he called back and said, "Hey, Kurt. What's up?"
Kurt sounded calm. He also sounded brittle. There was a tiny tremor in the words when he said, "Hi, Blaine."
"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine demanded, pausing mid-step.
"I know why Karofsky hates me so much," Kurt said, voice small. "I wish… I wish I didn't know, Blaine."
"Kurt, where are you? I'll be there soon, I promise. Are you safe?" Blaine hurried towards the front hall; he didn't even think about going to the office to check out, and he'd just deal with the demerits or reprimand later.
"Blaine, I'm fine. I'm home. But…" Kurt's voice trailed off. "Blaine? Would you… tomorrow? Would you help me talk to him?"
"Kurt, what happened?" Blaine asked, leaning against the wall. "Please, just tell me. I'm really worried here."
The calm shattered; he heard what sounded like a muffled sob and closed his eyes. "Kurt," he said softly.
"He kissed me, Blaine," Kurt said. "I confronted him, and he grabbed my face, and he kissed me."
Blaine's mouth dropped open. "What?" He went to say about a dozen things and finally settled on, "I am so sorry, Kurt. I don't… I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Kurt whispered, voice less shaky. "Me, too."
"I'll be there," Blaine vowed. "Tomorrow. I'll help you."
He straightened up and turned, heading to his room instead of the parking lot. "Tell me your favorite song," he suggested. "Or anything you want. Just talk to me."
"At the moment," Kurt said, laughing slightly, "it's 'Teenage Dream'. Katy Perry's got nothing on you, Blaine."
Blaine chuckled, carrying the conversation forward.
It'd be half a year before he realized he'd fallen in love.
0o0
Blaine doesn't focus on his next two classes. He replays his performance, wondering where he went wrong. He thought he'd done well, but apparently it was a lie. How could it be a lie? He picked a song conveying strength and endurance, overcoming hardship. A story where the child succeeds despite the mother. Where the child ends up at the top.
And Blaine always puts on a show. Loses himself in the music, pretends to be someone else. But Mr. Schue wants something different. Something 'real.' Whatever that means.
"Blaine?" Kurt says as he drops into his chair. "Is something wrong?"
Blaine shrugs, leaning against Kurt, burying his face in Kurt's shoulder. "Mr. Schue called me a liar," he mutters. "I have to sing the truth next week."
"Schue called you what?" Kurt hisses, his arm coming up around Blaine's shoulder.
Sighing, Blaine sits up, glancing into Kurt's eyes before looking away. "A liar," he repeats ignoring everyone at the table: Mercedes, Tina, Artie, and Rachel. "And I am one. Every time I sing, it's not me singing. It's someone else's story. That's why I like singing."
Kurt gapes at him. "Blaine, you're not a liar."
He shrugs. "Compared to everyone else, I am."
"So, what are you singing next week?" Mercedes asks.
"He's not singing anything next week," Kurt snaps. "Because Schue is being unreasonable."
"I don't think he is," Mercedes says. "Blaine, you did a good job… but it wasn't you singing, you know?"
"What are you talking about?" Kurt demands. "He sang like he always does and it was wonderful like it always is."
"Kurt," Blaine says softly, grabbing his hand. "It's okay. I'll come up with a song for Monday, and I'll sing it, and Mr. Schue will either like it or he won't." He shrugs again. "Not much I can do about it."
"But you shouldn't have to," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's hand.
"I don't want to be a liar, Kurt." Blaine uses his free hand to snag a chip from Kurt's tray since he'd forgotten to grab any food on his way to the table. "So even if I have to write a song, I'll convince Mr. Schuester that I can do more than perform."
Lyrics pop into his head then, so he quickly pulls away from Kurt's hand and grabs the first notebook he touches, jotting down
Your meds don't work for me
My hands are still burning
And my arm, it aches
Shouldn't you love me?
I don't know what's so wrong with meThat you don't
What's so wrong with me?
I'm your son
Your burden
Blaine drops the pen, slamming the notebook shut. No way he could sing that in a room full of people he barely knew, and definitely not in front of anyone he knew well.
He has to find a song. He isn't much of a lyricist, and he simply can't bare so much.
"Blaine," Kurt says.
"Don't worry," Blaine murmurs. "I'll tell you. Next week. After I sing. I'll tell you."
Kurt presses a quick kiss to the side of Blaine's head. "I love you," he whispers.
Puck plops down on Blaine's other side, slinging an arm across his shoulders. "'s'up, dude," he greets Blaine, not sparing anyone else a look. "Tell me about the climax of Jane Eyre." He imbues 'climax' with the dirtiest connotation Blaine has ever heard, leering.
Blaine laughs, settling into his grip, and asks, "How far did you get?"
0o0
Mom played the piano, violin, and cello. Dad knew the drums, though he didn't play anymore. Blaine learned piano basics from his mom, in the golden years before the fire. He taught himself the guitar later.
He never plays the piano in the den. It had been his mother's, moved in from her parents' house, and every time he sat on the bench, he felt her judging him. He was always wanting in her eyes. Blaine knows it was her illness, and not her fault, but that never makes the hurt any less.
0o0
Blaine feels better for his afternoon classes, participating and taking notes. He smiles and jokes, and asks Dave how his day is going when they pass in the hall.
Dave gives him a wide-eyed look, mutters, "Fine," and hurries away.
Kurt meets him as he puts his history book in his locker. "Follow me home?" Kurt murmurs, leaning against the locker and trying to look at Blaine through his lashes.
Blaine laughs. "That'd work better if you weren't three inches taller than me."
Kurt huffs, straightening up to his full height. "Well, fine," he says, attempting a haughty look, but a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
Blaine nods. "I am," he says.
At Kurt's house, he asks, "Wanna help me make cookies?"
"Sure," Blaine says. "I won't be any better than last time, though." Blaine can throw together a meal, but he's not much of a baker.
Kurt smiles, pulling Blaine in for a simple kiss that quickly becomes more complicated.
Twenty minutes pass before they start the dough. Kurt lets Blaine break both the eggs and dump in the chocolate chips. Only half the dough ends up as cookies - the other half is shared between Kurt and Blaine as they cuddle on the couch.
Just before Blaine heads home, Kurt says, "You don't have to sing on Monday, Blaine."
Blaine replies, "Yes, I do."
0o0
The first Halloween Blaine can remember, he went trick-or-treating as Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty. He memorized all the songs from the movie and sang lines from them instead of saying, "Trick or treat!" at every house.
Up until he discovered Pink, 'I Wonder' was his favorite song.
0o0
On Thursday and Friday, Blaine tutors Puck about how to spiff himself up for college admissions and they hammer out where Puck will apply. Blaine also teaches him about critical reading and how to remember all the boring history facts that go in one ear and out the other.
Blaine and Kurt go out for ice cream Friday night, after the Hudmel dinner, and they discuss which Disney prince is the best while sharing a hot fudge sundae.
Blaine ardently defends Phillip, of course. Kurt raises a spirited argument in favor of Eric from The Little Mermaid. Eventually, they decide to concede that Flynn Rider is the coolest, though he isn't an actual prince.
On the way back to Kurt's house, Blaine queues up his Disney playlist and they sing along.
"You do admit Ursula still has the best villain song?" Kurt asks as Blaine walks him to the door.
"Well, of course," Blaine says. "The Shadow Man comes close, and Scar's amazing, but Ursula… she's in a league all her own."
"Good," Kurt says, lacing his fingers together on the back of Blaine's neck and pulling him in.
Blaine's still grinning when he gets back in his car. He hums along to the music but doesn't really listen until he hears, "Me? I'm just your mother - what do I know? I only bathed and changed and nursed you."
"Oh," he breathes, playing the song over. He repeats it all the way home.
Yes. Definitely. He'll sing this song.
0o0
After the fire, Dad trusted Mom less, but still left her and Blaine alone a lot. Mom was actually around less than Dad knew, so Blaine had time to himself. He focused on reading and music, and found the History channel fascinating.
Mom never seemed to realize she did anything wrong. Blaine left her alone as much as he could, but sometimes she wanted to hang out, watch movies or cook with him. The first time she held his hand to a lit candle was when he was nine and refused to watch Psycho with her. (Much later, he'd realize the irony.)
He didn't see Dad for a week, so his hand barely even hurt when he finally told, and Dad didn't believe him. Dad didn't have time to believe him, so Blaine didn't mention anything else for a long while.
0o0
On Saturday, Kurt has plans with Mercedes, Dad's meeting a client for a takeover, and the Warblers are practicing for Sectionals, so Blaine doesn't leave the house. He watches Tangled on his laptop three times in a row, transcribes the lyrics and music to Mother Gothel's villain song, and rearranges it to fit him. A few things need to be dropped and tweaked for it to work, he decides.
He stops for a late lunch/early supper, playing the song on repeat on his phone. It hurts each time through.
After he eats, Blaine plays the music on his guitar without singing the words, then plays it again, humming along. Finally, he sings and plays together. Then, he sings it without music.
Yes. No music. Just him and the shade of his mother.
He goes to bed at nine, turning off the light and texting Kurt I love you.
Blaine dreams about flames and a dance and Kurt. In his dream, the gym is on fire, Kurt's screaming, and Blaine dies trying to reach him.
0o0
On Sunday, a week after Blaine came out to his dad, three days after he came out to his mom, Dad asked, "What happened to your hand?"
"Nothing," Blaine said, covering the hurt one with his other hand and hiding both beneath the table. "I burned myself on the stove."
Dad frowned at him. "Why were you using the stove?"
Blaine looked at Mom. She daintily cut up her Salisbury Steak and didn't even glance his way. "I always cook supper," Blaine said.
Dad put down his fork. "How long have you been cooking, Blaine?" he asked quietly.
"Just… just a few years," Blaine stammered out. "Mom runs errands in the evening, so I throw something simple together." Dad turned his frown on Mom and Blaine panicked because Mom met Dad's gaze and she looked angry. "It's not a big deal!" he said. "I don't mind!"
"Don't give me that look, Robert," Mom said. "I'm busy, you know that. Blaine's a good cook."
"Blaine, "Dad said. "Show me your hand."
He looked at Mom. She smiled; he shuddered, shoved his chair back from the table, and ran upstairs.
0o0
"Finn and the boys are having a wii marathon," Kurt says, sounding annoyed. "I promised to invite you. Would you like to come over and squish mushrooms?"
Blaine laughs. "Don't act like you don't love it," he replies. "Who always pushes everyone off cliffs or into lava pits?"
"Well, fine," Kurt says. "They're just very… loud. I was hoping for a quiet morning, but apparently when there's a day-long Mario game waiting, they're all up at the crack of dawn."
Pushing his cereal around in the bowl, Blaine asks, "Did you have anything in mind for the day? My schedule is wide open until three, when I promised to go listen to the Warblers."
"I hear the Gap is having a sale," Kurt teases.
"Guess I'll be playing Mario, then," Blaine shoots back, letting the spoon fall. "And after we kill everyone off, we can go celebrate in your room." He pauses. "Are your parents home?"
"Nope." Kurt draws the word out, popping the 'p.' "They'll be back from Columbus late. Your dad?"
"A major client had some sort of crisis. He'll be home early tomorrow morning, if he comes home at all." Blaine stands and, leaving the bowl on the table, heads upstairs. "So, Mario or a completely empty house?"
"I have an idea," Kurt says, using his low voice. Blaine really likes that voice. "I'll be there soon."
Blaine's saying, "Kurt, what-" when Kurt hangs up. He pouts at his phone for a minute and then hurries to his room. If he derails Kurt's train of thought with a laughable outfit, it'll suck. He snorts at the thought, muttering, "No pun intended."
0o0
Blaine could hear yelling, when he crept out of his room to go shower. His hand hurt; after he finished, he bandaged it and tried to sneak back to his room, but Mom caught him.
"Blaine," she called. Dad's country playlist filled the first floor, so Blaine barely heard her, but he couldn't pretend he hadn't. He didn't want to trigger a rage.
"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, walking to her. He carefully stayed out of reach. Her smile was gentle and it terrified him.
"You are such a good boy," Mom told him. "The best of all boys. I just wish you were more like me, but there's so much of your father in you. You shouldn't be serious all the time, sweetie." She stepped forward, putting her hands on his shoulders. They were the same height, and had the same eyes, and Blaine felt trapped by her firm grip.
"Mom, I should go to sleep," he said, trying to pull away. Her hands latched onto his right arm. His right hand throbbed.
"Blaine," she murmured, hands tightening. "Blaine, you have to try to be better." She pulled him forward; he jerked back, lost his footing, and his arm twisted. He gasped at the pain, and Mom let him go, and he hit the floor with a muffled thump, cradling his arm against his chest. He looked up at Mom.
He couldn't hide this. He didn't want to hide this. He was so tired.
Mom stalked past him and slammed her bedroom door.
"Dad!" Blaine yelled. "Dad, I need help!"
Blaine scooted backwards until he hit the wall. He let his head thump against it and closed his eyes and tried not to pass out, but his arm really hurt.
He never did remember much more from that night. But when he went home from the hospital, Mom wasn't there. He didn't see her for a week.
Dad made excuses, and she did come home eventually, but Blaine was icily polite, when he acknowledged her at all.
0o0
Kurt's idea involves Elphaba, Fiyero, and 'As Long As You're Mine." There is no fade to black.
After they catch their breath, Blaine serenades Kurt with 'Dancing Through Life,' spinning him around the den, and Kurt absolutely kills 'No Good Deed.'
Kurt collapses on the couch, and he is breathtakingly beautiful. Blaine tells him to wait and hurries to the kitchen to throw together some sandwiches. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed while they reenacted Wicked.
"We should have a soundtrack day in glee," Blaine muses, walking back into the den and sitting next to Kurt, handing him one of the sandwiches. He smiles , watching Kurt inhale it, eating his own in four bites. "Or a theater day. Definitely a Disney day."
"You suggest it," Kurt says, "and I'll second it. Rachel will third it, for sure."
Blaine chuckles. "I doubt Mr. Schuester would go for it, even if Finn was the first to bring it up."
"Yeah," Kurt says. "Saddening though it is." He leans over, tucking his head under Blaine's chin, stretching out on the couch.
A few minutes pass in comfortable silence until Kurt asks quietly, "What will you sing tomorrow?"
"It's a surprise," Blaine says, equally quietly. "And… it'll be as honest and emotional as Schue could ever want."
Kurt sits up, tightening his grip on Blaine's hand. Blaine looks at him for just a moment before averting his glance. He didn't mean to sound that bitter, or that angry. "Blaine, you don't have to sing."
Blaine sits up, too, stroking Kurt's fingers with his own. "Come with me to see the Warblers," he says. "Thad took over for Wes; I'm sure he'd love to hear your thoughts about their performance."
Kurt just looks at him, but Blaine waits in silence. Finally, Kurt lets him have his out and nods. "If you're quite certain I won't be accused of spying."
As they're going out the door, Blaine uses their linked hands to pull Kurt back to face him. "Come home with me tomorrow," he says. "I'll tell you everything."
Nodding again, Kurt embraces him. "Everything will be fine," Kurt promises.
Blaine can only hope.
0o0
Dad seemed far more hesitant to leave Mom in charge after the arm incident. Blaine was just glad he hit a growth spurt and grew three inches so that he was bigger than Mom.
Mom acted better for a few months, long enough for Dad to lower his guard. Not Blaine, though. He'd lived through her good patches before. The plunge she took was always worse than he could imagine.
Blaine asked his friend Marty to the Sadie Hawkins dance. They were both freshmen, gay, and out. He and Marty were just friends, though they'd experimented a little. Marty was a few inches taller than Blaine and interested in science, computers, and special effects.
After the dance, a group of upperclassmen jocks waited in the parking lot. Blaine fared better than Marty because Marty tried fighting back. Blaine just protected his head and middle, trying to survive.
Marty was sent to live with his grandparents in California as soon as he healed enough to fly. Blaine was transferred to Dalton.
But while he was still laid up, Mom gave him her meds instead of his, and he didn't realize that until a day later, after he'd been rushed back to the hospital.
0o0
The Warblers perform well, as always. Their harmonies are pitch-perfect; Kurt offers minor critique that has Thad nodding and promising to consider.
After they leave, Blaine takes Kurt to an early supper at a little-known Italian place. It completely blows Breadstix out of the water and Kurt waxes poetic about his chicken alfredo. Blaine watches Kurt for a minutes as he segues into his mother's cooking and how he can't equal her chicken marsala, though he's tried. "Dad tells me that it's the same, but I can taste the difference," he says. "I've tried, like, half a dozen times. It's not the same."
"You'll get it one day," Blaine assures him. Kurt smiles, reaching across the table to take his hand. That smile gives him the courage to say, "My song tomorrow… it's for my mom. To my mom."
Kurt's smile turns quizzical, but he squeezes Blaine's hand.
"She's… not like your mom was," Blaine adds, staring at their clasped hands.
"Are your parents divorced?" Kurt asks gently.
"No." Blaine shakes his head. He licks his lips, darting a glance at Kurt before looking around for their server. "I want a piece of that fudge cake," he says. "What about you?"
Kurt says, "I'll share yours," stroking Blaine's fingers before pulling his hand back. He waits until the dessert order is in before asking, "Why don't we call soccer 'football' like everyone else?"
It's a blatantly obvious subject change, to a topic he doesn't care about, just so Blaine can think about something else. Every day, Kurt gives Blaine more reasons to love him.
So he explains. They share the cake, split the bill, and Kurt spends the ride back to Blaine's house talking about his latest playwriting attempt: a bullied drama nerd who falls in love with the most popular boy in school and woos him with a baseball game.
"Isn't that the plot of High School Musical 2?" Blaine asks as he pulls into the driveway.
"Not exactly," Kurt says. "There are similarities, though."
Blaine laughs. Kurt leans over to kiss him. "Don't stay here alone tonight," he murmurs into Blaine's mouth. "Dad will understand."
Bringing a hand up to Kurt's face, Blaine shifts his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder, wishing with all his might he could just crawl into Kurt and be safe and warm forever.
"I can't," he says.
He walks Kurt to his car, kisses him goodnight, and trudges into his empty, dark house, up the stairs, and to the bathroom. He showers in water as hot as he can stand, towels off with rough, hard strokes, and trudges into his empty, dark room.
The sun has barely begun to set. He texts Kurt I love you. See you tomorrow. and curls up under the covers.
That night, Blaine dreams of his mother and candles and Kurt turning away because of Blaine's ghosts.
0o0
Mom never came home. Dad told Blaine that she had to stay at the hospital for a little while. Blaine spent a week in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom or grab a new book. He finished his freshmen year as a correspondence student, something his dad arranged, and went to Dalton in the fall.
Blaine washed his hands of his mother during the break between semesters his sophomore year. He didn't tell anyone for a long time (not till Kurt); he only told his father he never wanted to see her again.
(He kept his word - he never even saw her once after that cold, bright winter day.)
0o0
On Monday, Blaine wakes an hour early but stays in bed until his alarm shrieks. He takes a very hot shower and, as he's staring at himself in the mirror, decides to forego his usual hair gel. So he dries off and lets his hair do whatever it wants.
For breakfast, he has applesauce, bacon, and peanut butter toast. He drinks a glass of chocolate milk, texts Kurt a good morning, and calls a goodbye to his dad's bedroom door.
Kurt meets him in McKinley's parking lot, with a soft kiss and big hug. "I like your hair," he says, threading his left hand through it. "It's very bouncy."
Kurt's seen his hair wild before, but it's getting long again, and he usually had other things to focus on. Blaine laughs. "My hair's a mess. That's why I always gel it, ever since Dalton." He smiles at Kurt, letting go of his apprehension, focusing on his boyfriend's voice and eyes and hands.
"Tell me I can sing," he says, stepping in close. Finn and Puck are loitering near, so Blaine ignores everything but Kurt.
And Kurt puts both his hands on Blaine's face, meets his eyes and tells him, "You can sing, Blaine. You will sing. And Schue'll eat his words."
Blaine smiles again. Puck and Finn saunter - well, Puck saunters. Finn stumbles when he tries - over, flanking them. Blaine tucks himself under Kurt's arm and they walk together. Puck asks about literary language, Finn provides half-remembered (and wrong) examples from Rachel, and Kurt sets them straight, asiding to Blaine about silly boys. Blaine just listens, letting the banality calm him.
Kurt believes in him. Kurt doesn't think he's a liar. Kurt loves him.
So Blaine leaves Kurt when the warning bell rings, going to physics. Puck lightly slaps his shoulder as he passes, going to his own physics class.
Two hours until he sings. Blaine takes his notes in those classes longhand, writing down everything his teachers say.
And then he walks into the choir room. Kurt hurries to him, takes his hand, leads him to their chairs. Puck's already sprawled in one, holding Jane Eyre.
Blaine pauses, looking at him. Puck smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Rochester's wife sounds cool. Why isn't the book about her?"
"Because the title is Jane Eyre," Blaine says dryly, sitting next to him. Kurt settles on Blaine's other side.
Kurt says, "There is a book about Rochester's wife. I can't remember what it's called…" He pulls out his iPhone as Mr. Schuester calls them to order.
Blaine's calm vanishes. He takes a deep breath. He wasn't this nervous for his Warbler audition or his New Directions audition or his first day at either school. He wasn't this nervous when he danced with Marty or his appointments with Dr. Fresan.
"Now," Mr. Schuester says, "Blaine will sing for us."
Oh, crap.
Kurt leans in and whispers, "Knock 'em dead, babe."
Yes. It'll be so emotional Schue won't be able to stop weeping.
So Blaine stands and slowly walks down the riser. "No music," he tells Mr. Brad.
He meets Kurt's eyes, then looks past him, back at his seven-year-old, tear-stained face, at his burned hand and broken arm.
"You want to go outside?" he asks. "Oh, my darling, why?" He slows the tempo down, singing the talking parts, injecting a laughing tone, "Look at you, as fragile as a flower. Still a little sapling, just a sprout. You know why we stay up in this tower - that's right: to keep you safe and sound, dear."
Blaine lets his eyes run over all of them. They're listening, but don't know the song yet. It sounds rough. Painful. It is. His heart aches, and he keeps singing, throwing every scar, every bruise and burn, every last tear into the song.
"Guess I always knew this day was coming," he bites out, glancing at Schue and then away. "Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest. Soon, but not yet. Shh, trust me, pet," he cajoles. "Mother knows best."
This is as honest as he's ever been.
"Mother knows best," he sings softly, gently, then hardening the words to add, "Listen to your mother; it's a scary world out there. Mother knows best. One way or another, something will go wrong, I swear."
The first list is reeled off viciously, Blaine flinging the words like stones, watching with a dark sort of delight as they hit Mr. Schuester. "Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy," he sings, "Quicksand, cannibals, and snakes - the plague! Also, large bugs, men with pointy teeth - and, stop, no more, you'll just upset me."
Gentle again comes, "Mother's right here, Mother will protect you." And then, Blaine infuses the next part with a bitter twist of irony, "Darling, here's what I suggest: Skip the drama, stay with Mama. Mother knows best."
He pauses, picturing Mom's face as he starts the next part softly, working his way up to shouting the last two lines: "Go ahead, get trampled by a rhino. Go ahead, get mugged and left for dead. Me, I'm just your mother, what do I know? I only bathed and changed and nursed you." A deep breath, another glance at Kurt - tears on his cheeks, one hand covering his mouth, the other clenched in a fist.
Blaine sings, almost gently, "Go ahead and leave me, I deserve it. Let me die alone here, be my guest. When it's too late, you'll see, just wait: Mother knows best." Another laugh infused in the words, he's nearly smiling when he continues, "Mother knows best. Take it from your mumsy - On your own you won't survive."
His voice breaks on the second list; only looking at Kurt gives him the push to finish it. "Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy. Please, they'll eat you up alive. Gullible, naïve, positively grubby, ditzy and a bit...well, vague. Plus I believe you're getting kind of chubby."
He feels Mom's hand on his arm, fire on his palm, and her voice is loud in his mind when he sings, "I'm just saying cause I wuv you." He even uses the cutesy voice from the movie, and it hurts. Of course it does. But he powers through it, and his voice is strong on, "Mother understands, Mother's here to help you - All I have is one request."
The end is so close. A miniscule pause, a quick breath, and he practically screams, "Don't ever ask to leave this tower again."
He's gentle again, murmuring, "Oh, I love you very much, dear. I know you love me more, but I love you the most."
Mom's face, the last time he saw her. The last time he'll ever see her. Wild dark hair, his own eyes - the eyes he sees in the mirror every goddamned day. He finishes softly, with a broken little sigh. "Don't forget it. You'll regret it. Mother knows best."
There are tears on his face. He doesn't look at anyone. He stands there, eyes closed, listening to the silence, and then he spins in place, rushing from the room.
"Wait, Blaine," Schue calls, but Blaine ignores him. He hears Kurt say something, in a cold, low voice, and then he's too far away to hear anything else.
He's in the locker room, the next time he notices where he is, doubled over. And Kurt is standing in the doorway, looking at him. Blaine stands up, arms still wrapped around himself.
"Schue will apologize, the next time he sees you," Kurt says, sounding normal. "I'm here to take you home. We'll cut school for the rest of the day. I think we should go home and watch both Princess Diaries movies and eat ice-cream drowning in chocolate sauce and cuddle."
"That… that sounds nice," Blaine admits, rubbing at his face. "I'm sorry I freaked out."
Kurt gives him the you're so adorable and I love you and you're an idiot but I love you anyway smile. "Don't be sorry, Blaine. You didn't do anything wrong."
Mr. Schue can't say that was acting. Nothing in that song was a performance. Blaine's heart still aches, and his eyes are burning - fuck, he's crying again.
Hurrying over, Kurt says, "Blaine, Blaine, it's okay."
"My mom," Blaine says desperately, unable to keep it in anymore. "She, she's like Gothel, okay? But she's sick, so it's not her fault. It's not her fault, the things she did, the things she said-she's sick. It didn't matter what I did, it was never good enough, but it wasn't her fault." He collapses against the wall, sinking down to the ground. "It wasn't her fault."
"Blaine," Kurt says gently, kneeling next to him. "Blaine, if it wasn't her fault… it wasn't yours, either." He pulls Blaine to him; Blaine is pliant in his grip, letting Kurt arrange him however he likes. Blaine just focuses on Kurt's breath, trying to match it. Slowly, the tears lessen. Finally, the tears stop.
"Take me home," Blaine whispers.
He doesn't even think about his house. He wants Kurt's bed and his soft sheets and the muted colors of his walls, every single decoration and piece of furniture picked with care.
"C'mon," Kurt says, pulling Blaine to his feet on his way up. "Let's go home."
0o0
Blaine's dad is a nice guy. He's always known that. He's still not entirely sure what his dad does - definitely some kind of lawyer, but beyond that? He's asked, but what Dad explained made no sense.
Mom had a job before she had Blaine. She was a baker. She used to talk about teaching Blaine some of her recipes, the ones with secret ingredients.
Needless to say, that didn't exactly work out.
0o0
Blaine spends the night in Kurt's bed. He doesn't leave Kurt's room, not even to use the bathroom. He overhears a hushed, hurried conversation with Mr. Hummel, and then Finn, but Kurt is the only person to go in or out of the room until the next morning.
"Do you want to go to school?" Kurt asks softly, his fingers warm around Blaine's, his lips next to Blaine's ear.
Blaine shakes his head, burrowing further under the blankets, eyes still closed.
"I'll tell Dad," Kurt says, gently pulling away.
A few minutes later, as Blaine's almost asleep, Kurt slips back into bed and pulls him close.
"School?" Blaine mumbles.
Kurt murmurs, "I'm horribly ill. Vomiting everywhere. And what do you know? I'm so contagious my boyfriend's infected, too. Maybe we'll be well enough tomorrow."
Blaine loves this boy. So much.
0o0
Mom has a Bachelor's in music. What she ever intended to do with it, Blaine doesn't know. But she moved to Ohio with Dad, began baking, gave birth to her only child, and suffered some sort of mental break - or maybe, problems she'd always had simply surfaced and Blaine was the only available target.
Dad has a law degree, a seven-days-a-week job, and enough money that paying medical bills and Dalton's tuition was pocket-change.
Blaine has never wanted in a physical sense. His weekly allowance is enough to buy books, music, clothes, and videogames. He has a nice house, a nice car, nice clothes, the newest iPhone, the coolest NOOK. Until he came out, he was fairly well-liked. At Dalton, he was popular. At McKinley, he's a gleek and a fairy (no one has the courage to say worse things in his hearing since Karofsky began protecting Kurt).
Blaine will apply to a dozen colleges on the east and west coasts. He knows that Kurt has his heart set on New York, but they haven't worked up the nerve for that conversation yet.
0o0
Blaine and Kurt crawl out of bed around noon. They shower together; Kurt gently washes Blaine's hair and kisses his shoulder after the conditioner is all out.
"I love you," he whispers into Blaine's skin, pulling Blaine into his arms, chest to back, lacing his fingers on Blaine's stomach.
Blaine turns in his hold, looking up at him. Kurt has tears trailing down his cheeks; Blaine kisses them away.
They go back to bed. Lunch doesn't happen for two more hours.
0o0
The first time he ever saw Kurt, Blaine was running late. He wasn't' nervous about the performance; since his first audition for the Warblers, Blaine felt completely at ease within Dalton's walls. Even competitions and shows performed in Dalton's uniform were no problem.
He is nervous at McKinley. There are no uniforms, no armor beyond Kurt's smile.
It's enough.
0o0
"What did you tell your dad?" Blaine asks while Briar Rose dances with Phillip.
Kurt kisses his hair and says, "That the man I love needed me and nothing would move me from his side."
Blaine burrows further into Kurt. Sometimes he wishes he were the larger one so he could hold Kurt and protect him. More than once, he's wished he were Puck or Finn or even Karofsky's size. But this, being surrounded by Kurt, it is wonderful. He feels safe and warm and so very loved.
"You amaze me," he says. "Every day, it's like I never saw you before."
"You're so silly." Kurt chuckles; Blaine can hear the blush in his voice.
Maleficent stalks across the screen. Blaine sighs - she is his favorite Disney villain. Everything about her is extraordinary. "Her voice," he murmurs. "Sometimes I want to crawl into it so I can be that awesome."
Kurt laughs. "She's Cinderella's stepmom, you know."
"And her voice was awesome then, too," Blaine replies, shifting around to get a better view as Maleficent taunts Phillip. "I wish she had a villain song."
"We should write one," Kurt says. "Surely our voices together are almost as awesome."
"No," Blaine says. "Together our voices are totally awesome, even awesomer than Maleficent's."
A small break for kissing later, Kurt says, "'Awesomer' is a not a word, Blaine."
"Sure it is," Blaine retorts, pulling back so he can stand. He holds out a hand and Kurt gives him the oh, I love you, breathtaking smile as he lets Blaine pull him to his feet. "The definition of 'awesomer' is you," Blaine says, and they dance with Aurora and Phillip until Finn comes home.