Looking for a Happy Ending - Part 4B
Title: Looking for a Happy Ending
Author: firefly_ca
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt/Blaine, with eventual appearances from pretty much everyone
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing themes, scenes, etc.
Word Count: Part four is 18K. Um, new record?
Spoilers: All of S2
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson hasn't been Blaine Anderson for 8 years. He doesn't remember much about his old family and his life before he moved in with the man he calls his father. Together they move from town to town, always drifting before Blaine can get too familiar with his surroundings. Then one day they end up in Lima, Ohio, and Blaine finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew.
A/N: Another just for the record regarding song selection. In case it is not obvious by the mention of Johnny Cash, the U2 song Blaine is referring to is this one. So far as this AU's Kurt and Blaine go, I'm pretty sure it is "Their Song" because it fits them beautifully. However, I realized while I was editing that it almost sounds like I'm describing another U2 song (sadly lacking in Johnny Cash, who makes everything better). If you want to pretend that's the song they're listening to, I don't mind. It suits them just as well :)
It's a long and exhausting week for Blaine. Most of the glee club has downgraded defence of Kurt's honour from targeted attacks to ignoring Blaine and pretending he's not there, like they're acting like the bigger people on Kurt's behalf or something. Only Sam and Brittany ever acknowledge him now, Brittany waving at him animatedly while Artie or Santana try to stop her, and Sam smiling amiably and noncommittally when they pass in the halls, same as ever.
Blaine hates that he's making other people so disappointed, and he hates knowing that he's letting people down, so he supposes he should feel relief by the switch in tactics. Instead he barely notices there's been a difference. He feels as heavy and weighed down as ever, the only thing really registering for him is the fact that he's completely destroyed the only good thing he's ever had. Kurt must hate him know and even if he hadn't gone and fallen for the guy, knowing that he's hurt the one person who really means something to him would make him feel like absolute crap.
Since not even the actions of Finn or Mercedes have much bearing on the base level of shitty Blaine feels, the sense of relief that comes with the weekend doesn't have as much to do with the chance to escape New Directions as it does with the fact that he can now drink enough alcohol to kill an elephant. Even though he can't forgive himself for bailing on Kurt, he can always drink so much that he passes out and doesn't need to think about anything anymore.
There are a lot of parties in the works when he leaves the school on Friday. He's biding his time at the mall, sitting in the food court waiting for the first party at Anthony Rashad's house to really get going before he crashes it, when he gets a text from his father.
Dad: Sent 7:08 PM
Come home now. Need to talk. Important.
Blaine groans. Normally he never disobeys Tom, does everything he's told without hesitating. Tom is never too demanding and Blaine has learned the hard way that his methods of discipline are unpredictable and frighteningly imaginative at best. But no matter how many times he looks at the text and tells himself, I need to go home, he doesn't move. He just sits there and waits for 9 o'clock to roll around and the stores to start closing their doors before dragging himself to his feet and making his way to Anthony's.
***
When Blaine gets to Anthony's house he doesn't waste any time making small talk and pretending like he's supposed to be there, which is his usual strategy. Instead he makes his way to the first source of open alcohol he can find and starts in drinking. He still makes a bit of an effort to smile at people and ask how it's going, just in case sullenly downing shot after shot of alcohol before finally giving up on dignity and switching to drinking straight out of the bottle without so much as saying a word to another person pisses Anthony off enough to throw him out.
Blaine feels vibrations from his phone periodically, alerting him to new text messages arriving, but he ignores all of them. Whatever his dad needs to tell him can wait. The asshole ruined his life, after all. Blaine can't bring himself to care if he ruins the evening in return.
As the hard liquor starts to seep into his system, Blaine begins to wonder if he's made the right choice by coming here. He doesn't feel very distracted, if anything he only fixates on his problems more now. He feels more depressed than he's felt all week. Early he had the blinding terror of what was happening to him keeping him from thinking about it too closely. Blaine guesses that makes sense, because if you're running away from an angry bear or something, you don't take the time to turn around to get a better look. Right now though, all that terror has faded away into the dull ache of inevitability. He wants another boy so far it doesn't seem like any amount of running is going to change that.
Tom always told him this would happen one day.
"One day this will feel so good."
"You'll learn to love this."
"One day you'll be such a slut for me that you'll beg me for it."
Blaine blinks hard, trying to force the voices out of his head. Tom always wanted someone who would want him back, he didn't want someone who would go off and find someone else to perve on. He wonders if Tom saw him the way Blaine sees Kurt: perfect and untouched, something to be explored and discovered. He drinks some more from the bottle in his hand. He's not even sure what it is. Whiskey maybe. He just needs to stop thinking the things he's thinking.
For the last seven years Blaine has been slowly turning into a monster, evil and destructive. Every time Tom touches him, the more like Tom he becomes. Blaine doesn't even know if he can stop it, even if he can't change what's already been done. Maybe he's not too late to at least keep things from getting worse. He wonders if his parents would have sent him away if they knew what it would turn him into. Or maybe he was always this way and they didn't want to see him grow into the part. Maybe Tom had nothing to do with it, and Blaine's just always been wrong - a lost cause his own family didn't see as worth saving.
A tear splashes onto his cheek. Blaine hastily wipes it away before anyone notices and has another drink. He wonders if he could find enough half-filled bottles to keep drinking until his body gives up on him too. He thinks about dying a lot as a way to escape Tom, but until now he's never thought of it as a way to escape himself. Blaine wonders if it's a mercy killing if it's suicide, if he deserves mercy at all. But he's not the only person to think about in all this, either. He may be undeserving but there's Kurt who needs saving from him, too. Kurt who is so open and accepting he probably wouldn't turn Blaine away until it's too late.
Anthony and some of the other jocks have started to give him some really strange looks, and Blaine sort of remembers he'd been trying to not get drunk off in the corner without interacting with anyone else. He staggers to his feet, wondering if he should try to rectify this, or just steal another bottle of something and leave. He's weaving his way over to a rapidly disappearing bottle of vodka when he hears the back door open and several new voices, talking excitedly all at once.
They sound familiar and Blaine squints across the room for a while before it registers that he's looking at the glee club, all very loud and all very drunk, except perhaps for Finn, who Blaine notes is the only one not hanging on to someone else to stay upright. He wonders where they'd been hiding since he hadn't remembered seeing any of them here earlier when he hears Mike happily talking to one of the other jocks,
"Puck's texting machine said Anthony's party could only be better if it wasn't already low on beverages."
He carefully enunciates "bev-er-AUGH-ges" and seems pleased when it comes out properly.
"So I said to Puck, 'Puck! If the Muppets always taught me to share, just like Whoever Jewish Jesus Is taught you to share, then maybe we should fucking share. If we took our drinks to share at their party, our parties would merge to form a super party that would be the best of all parties. Just like on Power Rangers."
Blaine had never known that New Directions were prone to throwing big parties for themselves where they got drunk and talked about children's television or whatever. He also didn't know that Jewish Jesus wasn't regular Jesus, but both of these issues are secondary to making sure Kurt isn't hanging out somewhere with the rest of his old friends.
He doesn't know what the best way is to deal with this. Kurt's friends haven't been as hard on him for the last couple days, but he still knows they won't respond well if he casually asks them if Kurt is around when he goes up and asks one of them. He's just deciding that maybe it would be better if he sticks with his original plan and leaves before anyone notices him when a voice from behind says,
"Don't worry. He's not here."
Blaine turns around and Sam is standing there, looking drunk and relaxed, but still aware enough his surroundings to have noticed Blaine looking.
"Rachel threw a party at her house tonight," Sam says. "All of glee club came. She invited Kurt too, but he had other plans. Something about an after school meeting with the Warblers. They still haven't found a good enough lead singer for the competitions next year and the council is panicking."
"Seems a little early for them to do that," Blaine says, but he's not really thinking about what Sam is saying, too busy trying to decide if he's sad Kurt isn't there or relieved. He doesn't notice Sam watching him.
"Kurt's a really good guy, you know?" Sam says finally, and here it comes. Blaine had been wondering why Sam has been holding back when everyone else was more than happy to have a go at him. He turns to leave abruptly and almost falls over when Sam grabs onto his arm.
"No don't leave," Sam says. "I don't want to tell you you suck or anything like that. I just wanted to say that if something's bothering you, you can talk to Kurt about it. He's a really understanding person. If you have a problem he might be able to help you."
Blaine squints at him suspiciously.
"How do you know?" He asks. "When have you ever told Kurt one of your secrets?"
Sam shrugs, a little uncomfortable now.
"We've just been talking a lot more lately," he says, vaguely. "Kurt's a good friend to have, if you give him the chance."
"I don't need any friends," Blaine says, and this bottle of vodka isn't as full as he thought. It won't even last for half an hour once Blaine is gone, so he heads back to the liquor cabinet to see what else is left. Somewhere along the way he bumps into Rachel, who seems to have forgotten she's angry with him, if the way she clings at him and rubs against him is any indicator.
"Oh Blaine," she says. "I've missed you! We never talk anymore and you still won't sing with us and you make me sad. That's very uncool, Blaine."
"Uh, hi Rachel," he says, trying to pull her off of him so he can get past, but he's too drunk to get very far and she's too drunk to take the hint.
"Blaine, Finn just said I'm needy," Rachel whines. "I don't think I'm needy, do you? God he is such a jerk."
She twists around to shout this, making sure Finn is watching her from across the room. Finn rolls his eyes and goes back to talking to Anthony.
"Did you see that," Rachel hisses, her eyes flashing. "What a jerk."
She stops and leans back into Blaine, sniffing his neck before announcing.
"You? Smell awesome. Let's dance!"
Rachel begins bopping and hopping around to the music, holding onto Blaine's hands and leaving him no option but to join in with her, at least partially. He focuses on how her horrid green dress moves and slides across her body, noticing that she seems to have lost her bra at some point. Slowly he wonders if maybe noticing is a good sign for him. Maybe if he tries he could make sure whatever was happening to him did stop where it is. He would always feel this way for Kurt, but if he made sure never to see Kurt again maybe it wouldn't matter. Not if he liked girls like a normal person the rest of the time.
"We should make out," he whispers into Rachel's ear. She stops nuzzling his hair and smiles at him hugely.
"I am gonna rock your world," she whispers back and suddenly her mouth is on his and her hands are around his neck pulling him closer as they deepen the kiss. So far as drunk kisses go this one is intense and spectacular. Rachel is nothing if not an excellent kisser and for a few moments, Blaine is convinced that he could get very used to this.
Then he moves to slide his hand down her back and pull her closer, and her body is soft and curvy, nothing like a boy's. Her hair is long and soft and tickles his face. Her lips taste like chap stick. Blaine pulls her hips towards his realizes this is the closest he's ever gotten to a girl in his life. He feels like somehow it should mean more to him than it does.
I wonder what it would feel like to hold Kurt like this. The thought comes to him unbidden and brings with it a spike of arousal. Kissing Rachel is nice, but that one thought about Kurt sends a wave of emotion running over him that threatens to push all thoughts of Rachel to the side completely.
He tries to focus on her, desperately relocate himself in the moment, but it's no use. Everything about her feels wrong and out of place to him. There's nothing to hold his interest or keep his mind from drifting back to imagining holding a slight but masculine build, reaching up to kiss a mouth slightly higher than his own, running his hands through a short-cropped head of hair.
"Fuck," he says, pulling away from Rachel. Of course it didn't work. Of course it couldn't be that easy.
"What's wrong?" Rachel asks, sounding like she doesn't know if she should be concerned or hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Blaine says, and his throat feels constricted and sore. His eyes are stinging. "It's not you, it's me. I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have...why can't I feel this?"
He looks at her desperately and her eyes are wide in confusion and concern.
"You're so pretty, Rachel," he says, tears he's been holding back for over a week finally starting to fall. "You're so goddamn attractive. If you knew how pretty you are you would be the most popular girl in school, you know that? Why can't I feel this? What's wrong with me?"
"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine," Rachel is saying, like she's trying to be comforting, but is much too drunk to remember how to go about it. "Are you gay? S'okay, Blaine. S'okay, s'okay."
"It's not okay," Blaine says, as she takes him by the hand and leads him away from the music. "You're so beautiful, and yeah, you're a little loud and kind of intense sometimes, but you're so pretty. Inside and outside, except for right now, because of your dress - it's really bad Rachel. But still, you're perfect and even though none of the guys want to admit it, I'm pretty sure every member of every sports team thinks about you in those skirts at night when they masturbate. Why can't you turn me on, too?"
Rachel's smile is a little strained, and the pats she has been gently giving his arm start to carry a sting with them as she says,
"Okay Blaine, just a lil tip: if you wanna gay crisis all over me by telling me how pretty I am, tha's really nice, but only if you don't be mean and objexify...objer...start calling me a hot footstool, okay?"
"Sorry," Blaine mumbles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Rachel looks at him and her lower lib wobbles a little as she suddenly grabs him into a hug, petting his hair softly.
"Don't be sad," she says. "Gay people are really nice, Blaine. I know. Both of my dads are gay and they like me more than anyone else I know. And Kurt! Kurt's super gay. Do you remember him? Isn't he nice?"
Blaine whimpers a little and whispers,
"I know."
"See?" Rachel says, smiling brightly as she pulls back to stare at him with slightly glassy eyes. "Don't you feel better now?"
Blaine still can't stop crying, and the smile falls from Rachel's face as she takes him by the hand again and leads him to the nearest sofa, where Puck is looking incredulously at Santana who is sobbing hard as she tells Sam about the ending to Toy Story 3.
"Is this a crying couch?" Rachel slurs, gently pushing Blaine into the space between Puck and Santana. "Because Blaine is probly gay and he needs to cry about it for a little while."
Puck looks at Blaine with his eyebrows raised a little, looking a lot more sober than everyone else in the room at the moment. Admittedly this doesn't mean a whole lot.
"You didn't know you were a homo?" he grins. "You should have asked one of us, we all knew."
"Oh God," Blaine moans, burying his face in his hands.
"Come on, Puck," Sam is saying. "That's really not helping."
"Yeah," he hears Santana say, shakily. "Maybe it's not easy figuring out that you're not as straight as your friends, did you ever think about that Puckerman? Maybe it really sucks."
"I can't be gay," he says into his hands. "If I'm gay, my dad..."
He trails off, losing the sentence in a haze of alcohol before he can say it, but he feels the sofa shift as Puck leans forward to hear better.
"You're worried about your dad finding out?" He asks, suddenly a lot more serious. "Why? Do you think you might get into trouble for liking other guys?"
"Oh tha's not good," he hears Rachel say in drunken disapproval, but he doesn't really listen.
"I never know what I'll do that'll get me into trouble," he admits, defeated. "It's like, I never know what will make him mad at me."
"Well, you probably shouldn't start smoking your pot in front of him then," Sam says, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Blaine just shakes his head.
"Dad's the one who bought marijuana for me in the first place. He said I needed to learn to calm down."
There's a pause, and then Puck says,
"Dude, why are you worried about getting into trouble about anything? Your dad sounds awesome!"
"He gets so angry," Blaine says, leaning back against the cushions and staring blankly at the wall. "It's like every time I see him I don't know what's going to happen."
"Maybe he's just worried about you?" Sam suggests.
Blaine pulls down his shirt collar and turns to Sam so he can see the long jagged cut that runs along his collarbone.
"He did that once because I called him by his first name. Threw me across the fucking room and I went through a glass coffee table. Sometimes he still throws things at me if I hesitate before I say dad, just in case I was thinking about saying something else."
"Holy shit," Puck says. "Does he have that Joan Crawford thing or something?"
"What?" Blaine asks, confused and a little frustrated. "He doesn't have anything. He has me, and I'm never gonna get out. I don't have friends, I don't have a family, he doesn't let me."
Blaine is really crying now, but for some reason he can't stop talking. Now that he's started to say all these things out loud, he feels like something inside will crush him if he stops.
"It's like every time I feel safe, like things are going to get better, it's like he can tell and we're packing up to leave again. I'm gonna die one day, all alone, and it's going to be because that's what he wants. He wants me to die without ever being happy, even once. I think he's happy and doesn't want me to know what it feels like, do you know how fucked up that is?"
"Blaine," Rachel says, as she unsteadily gets down on her knees and leans forward to cup Blaine's face in her cool hands, working very hard to enunciate so he knows she means it. "That's not right, Blaine. You need to do something about that. If your dad needs help, you need to tell somebody. If he's hurting you, you have to make it stop. He can't stop you from living or being happy. No one can make you die alone."
"He can," Blaine says, staring back into Rachel's eyes. "One day he'll kill me. I'll do something, I'll cross a line, and he'll just do it."
Rachel doesn't say anything, but there are tears spilling down her cheeks now too, and somewhere to his right he can hear the keypad of a phone.
"I hope he does it soon," Blaine adds, almost to himself and suddenly he has a lap full of Rachel Berry, who has climbed on top of him, holding him tightly as he cries on her shoulder.
***
It's a little while after that before anything else happens. Rachel stays where she is and even though Blaine's legs fell asleep a long time ago, he doesn't make her move. He likes the weight of her there, reminding him where he is. He's vaguely aware of a rotating cycle of New Directions approaching the small group and asking if everything is alright, especially Finn. Even Mercedes has given up on her silent treatment and he hears her cautiously asking something about "how much longer?"
Sometimes he hears Puck or Sam answer, and one time Santana sobs something to Brittany about how "Blaine's life is awful and it's really ruining my buzz" but he never says anything and neither does Rachel so far as he notices. He's not really interested in responding to anyone ever again until he feels Puck vacating his spot for someone new, and someone is trying to pull Rachel away and a voice that Blaine feels he hasn't heard in ages is saying,
"I can take it from here, Rachel."
"Kurt," Rachel says, loosening her hold a little as she looks over at Kurt but makes no moves to get up. "Blaine is really upset right now."
"I heard," Kurt says, and Blaine isn't looking at him but he can hear that smile in his voice just as well as always, although it sounds like it's tempered with something else. "That's why I thought I'd stop by."
"Hey," Blaine says, wiping his eyes again and turning to face Kurt as he realizes something. "You finally showed up without an invitation!"
"What can I say?" Kurt says. "It seemed like as good a time as any. You're a terrible influence on me, Blaine Brenner."
Blaine heaves out a sob, and then another one, and Rachel is leaning back on him and patting him all over his head and shoulders making insane noises that are probably supposed to be consoling and Blaine is suddenly aware that they must look absolutely ridiculous right now.
"We can't get him to stop Kurt," Rachel says and she looks a little more sober now, but a lot more frantic as she looks at Kurt wildly.
"I can tell," Kurt says, and he sounds calm but he looks pretty worried himself as he slips an arm behind Blaine and squeezes his shoulder. "Why don't you get up so we can give his legs a chance to get some circulation in them, and then I'll take him home?"
"I don't want to go home," Blaine says as Rachel slides onto the floor. "I hate going home."
"Okay," Kurt says agreeably. "I'll take you somewhere else. We don't have to go home if you don't want to."
"I don't really even have a home," Blaine says, and Kurt looks at him in confusion, so Blaine clarifies, louder. "I don't have a home."
"I do," Kurt suggests. "Maybe we could go there?"
"Your dad doesn't like me," Blaine says.
"He'll get over it," Finn says, and Blaine didn't even know he was still there. "He likes me now, and he actually threw me out once."
"He's too over-protective sometimes," Kurt agrees. "But he always comes around."
"You're so lucky," Blaine says, quietly and Kurt gives him another worried look before finally asking, "Do you think you can walk? We really need to get you out of here."
Kurt gets up and tries to help Blaine get to his feet, which is quite the task since his legs really haven't woken up yet and for a second it feels like Blaine is going to do a face plant into the carpet, but suddenly Finn is right there, reflexes benefiting by being one of the only two sober people in the room, and he's helping Kurt haul Blaine outside to his Navigator.
"I hope you don't mind having your car covered in barf," Finn comments as they slowly manoeuvre away from the music and noise.
"I certainly do mind," Kurt says. "That's why I brought a very big garbage bag. Blaine?"
He raises his voice to make sure he has Blaine's attention. "If you are going to do any vomiting you will do it into that garbage bag, do I make myself clear?"
"Uh-huh," Blaine says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, but distracted by how the streetlights are spinning.
It takes some wrangling on everyone's part to get Blaine firmly belted into the car, weakly leaning over the garbage bag, just in case. Kurt is just climbing into his seat and getting ready to close the door when Finn leans in to get another look at Blaine and say,
"Don't leave him alone for a while, okay? He was really scary in there, Kurt. He kept talking about wanting to die and feeling alone and...just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"
"I won't," Kurt sounds grim as he shuts the door and turns on the engine. He pulls out as gently as he can manage and Blaine is vaguely aware that he's driving below the speed limit, likely to avoid any unnecessary bumps or jarring movements.
"You're amazing," he mumbles.
"I am," Kurt agrees. "But don't think flattery will get you out of an explanation. Blacking out won't help you either, because I'll just pour water on you until you knock it off, so don't even try it. Now, care to explain what's been going on lately?"
"Nothing much," Blaine says, but Kurt snorts.
"Bullshit. You completely stopped talking to me last week for no reason. I kept going over our texts trying to find something that made you mad enough to drop me like that but there wasn't anything to find. Now I see you again and you look like you're having a nervous breakdown. What's going on?"
"I was doing you a favour," Blaine says, a little sullenly. "You think that because we're good friends now it's gonna be forever? Because guess what? My life doesn't work that way. One day I'll be making plans with you for the weekend and the next I'll be gone and you'll never hear from me again. So if you don't like it just let me out now and we can go back to ignoring each other."
"What's wrong with you Blaine?" Kurt asks again.
"It's all your fault," Blaine says.
"What is?" And Kurt sounds so upset that Blaine is even angrier with himself.
"Shit I'm sorry," He says, slumping against the window as the tears start falling again. "It's not your fault, Kurt. It's not your fault. I'm just so messed up and now I've dragged you right into the middle of it and I never wanted to that to you."
"What did you drag me into?" Kurt persists, as they slow for an approaching stop sign. "Blaine, you're not making any sense."
"I told Rachel she's beautiful tonight," Blaine says, closing his eyes. "And she is, but she doesn't even come close to you."
Kurt makes a little strangled sound and stalls the car. Twice. When he finally gets them moving again, it's only long enough to pull over to the side of the road and shift in his seat to get a good look at Blaine.
"What?" is all that he says.
"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Blaine says, truthfully. "Just gorgeous. Sometimes when I look at you it's all I can think about. I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Kurt asks. "I mean, if you think you you're gay, I understand how that might freak you out, but you never have to apologise about it, especially not to me."
"Yes I do," Blaine insists, feeling the panic rise up inside him again. "You don't deserve this, Kurt. This is all wrong, I'm all wrong. I'm sick, do you get that?"
"Blaine, there's nothing sick about being gay," Kurt says, his voice going slightly on edge. "You know that, at least I thought you did."
"I'm not gay," Blaine says, his voice rising in his desperation for Kurt to get this. "I'm wrong. I am a fucking creep, Kurt. And if I let you stay friends with me, you'll end up just like me."
"There's nothing wrong with you, Blaine," Kurt says, and he's starting to sound angry. "If you like guys, you like guys. There's no right or wrong way to go about it. You can't call yourself a creep without calling me one, too."
He looks away in disgust.
"I don't believe this," He says. "First Karofsky and that stupid kiss, and now I'm sitting here listening to a boy tell me he likes me and it's just as ugly. Why do all my firsts go so wrong?"
"Because it's me," Blaine says, trying to fight through his muddled thoughts for clarity. "It's my fault. I destroy good things, Kurt. It's what I do. I never should have let myself get to know you, but you made me feel like I could be happy when I was with you. I didn't want to let go of that. It was selfish, though. It was selfish and wrong and I'm sorry."
He takes a deep breath and adds,
"I never said you were a creep. You're not the wrong one, I am."
"But I'm gay, too," Kurt says.
"You don't get it," Blaine says. "I'm not gay, alright? It's not the same for me. You've always been this way."
"Why do you think you're any different?" Kurt says. "You're right, I don't understand what you're telling me. I like guys and apparently you do too. We're the same."
"The difference is you're gay and it's not a mistake," Blaine says. "You're the way you're supposed to be. I'm like, I don't know, Frankenstein's monster. If I like you it's not because I'm gay it's because I'm a goddamned puppet."
"No one can make another person gay, Blaine," Kurt says. "You are or you aren't, that's all."
Blaine leans back against the window and huddles in on himself. He wishes he could stop shaking.
"Then he picked me because he could tell," he says quietly. "I don't know which one is worse."
"Blaine," Kurt says, and he trails off. Suddenly he sounds very wary.
"I don't want to talk about it, Kurt," Blaine says. He's still incredibly hammered, but he's slowly realizing that he's been talking a lot more than he normally does tonight, and that if he keeps it up, he's going to reveal something he regrets, even more than what he's already done.
"Blaine, look at me," Kurt's voice is firm and Blaine feels his hand touch his shoulder. He tries to shy away, but the hand follows. "Blaine, I mean it. Look at me."
Blaine turns around, slowly. Kurt looks terrified.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying? Someone molested you?"
It takes a moment for Blaine to remember that he has to answer, to deny it even though he knows it's true, but he's just so stunned to hear it said out loud like that, that for a moment he can't say anything. That second of hesitation must have said volumes to Kurt though, because suddenly Kurt has managed to slide over on to the armrest and he's wrapping Blaine up in his arms and Blaine thinks maybe he could still turn this around, say Kurt has it wrong and after Kurt makes some awkward apologies they can both pretend this never happened, but Kurt is holding him and it feels wonderful and Blaine doesn't say a word.
"I'm so sorry," Kurt is saying, and his voice is choked. "How - when did it happen?"
"I don't - " Blaine breaks off, because he's really not sure what to say. He's so confused and he doesn't really get what Kurt is asking. "I'm not sure? I think I was maybe 7 the first time."
"It happened more than one time?" Kurt sounds devastated.
Blaine wants to make it so he never said anything at all, but the parts of his brain that handle lying and silence are both passed out drunk right now so instead he says,
"Not one time. All the time. It's happened so much, now I'm trying to push it off on to other people. I'm not stupid. I read things, Kurt. People say if it happened to you, you do it to other people, and that's the what's happening. It's why I've started to have these fucking sick dreams about you. It's like I'm dirty now but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Kurt. I don't want to get you dirty, too."
Kurt pulls away from Blaine, keeping a tight grip on Blaine's arms as he stares at him so intently Blaine can almost see the thoughts flying behind his eyes. It's like he has a million questions and a million things to say and he has no idea what should come out first.
"You're not dirty, Blaine," Is what he finally seems to settle on. "You are kind and caring and thoughtful. You're wonderful, and the only person who is sick and disgusting is the person who did this to you."
He hesitates a little before saying,
"Blaine? I know that this is a very big deal for you to tell me, and I get it's not exactly fair to ask you about something so scary while you're, um, not at your best, but this is important. Too important for me to wait. You said this started when you were 7? It's just...you told me you were 7 when your mom left, that now it's just you and your dad. When Finn and Mercedes started calling me tonight, they said you were...saying things about how you and your father don't get along. Is your father the one who - ?"
"Stop it," Blaine cuts him off, his stomach roiling. "My father would never do that."
Everything is fuzzy right now, and Blaine knows he's not quite getting some of what Kurt is asking, somehow, but he knows his father, or at least he knew him, once. Just thinking about him doing what Tom has done to him is making the air in the car suffocating. He desperately fumbles with his seatbelt and the door, staggering gracelessly into the fresh night air.
Kurt is at his side again in an instant, apologizing.
"Okay, okay Blaine," he says. "I'm sorry. I just needed to know."
Blaine just shakes his head, refusing to be led back into the car, taking in big gulps of air. Kurt doesn't look convinced, and Blaine needs Kurt to understand. He parents are only memories now, but knowing Kurt thinks something like that about them hurts in a way he wouldn't be able to explain even if he were sober.
"He hates me, Kurt," he says. "My father hates me, but he's not - he would never do that. He's not a bad person, he just doesn't want me around."
"That sounds like a bad person to me," Kurt says, quietly. "Sam said he hurts you."
"Tom," Blaine says, finally realizing what it is Kurt is trying to say. "Tom...wasn't exactly meant to be a parent. He used to say I was the perfect son for him. He used to think I mattered. But lately...I think he hates me now, too."
Kurt's brow wrinkles a little in confusion.
"You're not making sense, Blaine. What do you mean 'too'? Will you tell me who's doing this to you, please? If it's not your dad, is it another family member or something? I can help you. You don't have to go through this anymore."
"Family," Blaine mutters to himself, as he lets himself think about the way Tom seems to care less and less what he does, how he hardly comes into his room anymore, how sometimes Blaine catches him looking at him in open disgust.
He slides down the side of the car, sitting heavily on the pavement. He can hear the sound of the radio playing faintly above his head.
"I don't think I have any family any more. There's something wrong with me. It's like...people love me when everything is new. But then they get to know me and they don't want me anymore. Not even for things like sex. I don't like having sex, Kurt. I hate it, but at least I knew someone cared. What happens to me when I'm not even worth that?"
"Stop it, stop it," Kurt is whispering, and he sounds absolutely broken. "That's not true. You are worth so much. You're better than the things that happen to you."
He gets to his knees and turns to face him, leaning forward and Blaine can see how earnest he looks with his face bathed in the interior light of the car.
"I'm not dirty because of Karofsky, right?"
"Of course not," Blaine says.
"Then how could it be any different because it's you?"
"You don't understand," Blaine tries again. "Those dreams I've been having about you - obviously I want it, or else why would I think about you like that? Something broke and now I'm just like him."
"Blaine," Kurt says firmly, and Blaine thinks he's trying to look authoritative, but the effect is sort of ruined by how red his face is getting. "When you're a teenager our age? I'm pretty sure sex dreams are how you tell you aren't broken. Seriously. Trent from the Warblers says he never wants to have sex at all and even he said he has sex dreams."
"You too?" Blaine asks, and Kurt gets even redder.
"To be honest," he says, painfully awkward and refusing to look Blaine in the eye. "Sometimes. I've...I've sort of had a crush on you since we met, Blaine. I told you my type was straight jocks once, but that's not it at all. Sweet guys with protective streaks have always been like Kryptonite to me. God, Finn stood up for me once the first time he talked to me and I had a crush on him for almost a year. The night my father met you, Finn mentioned that he'd seen you helping me get slushie out of my clothes and two nights later I was getting lectured about safe sex. That's how much you are my type. My dad had no clue if you were gay or straight, but I'm so damn predictable he wasn't about to take any chances."
Blaine's heart is hammering in his chest. He doesn't know if he needs to feel upset and vindicated by what Kurt is saying, because Kurt likes him and he really is like poison, or elated and overwhelmed because Kurt likes him. He settles for feeling everything at once.
Kurt is looking at him carefully, obviously deep in thought.
"Can I ask you a very embarrassing question? I promise there's a point," He finally asks. Blaine shrugs a little, so Kurt takes a breath and continues. "When you dream about me, what happens? Obviously we're, um, doing things but...I know when Karofsky was getting so scary before I left McKinley I had a couple intense dreams - nightmares, really - about him. The dreams didn't mean I wanted him or what he was doing, though. How do you know your dreams are about how much you like me?"
"Karofsky wanted to hurt you," Blaine says. "You'd never hurt me. I've had nightmares about people who've hurt me, Kurt. These aren't like those kinds of dreams at all. It's like all my favourite things about you are up close and in front of me, and I can look at them all as much as I want. I can look at your eyes, and the freckles on your nose, and I get to hear your voice, and your stories and secrets, and your laugh. You laugh so much in my dreams. I think I might like it the most."
He leans back and rolls over a little, trying to move to his side and close his eyes. Things feel too close again. He can't talk about Kurt and look at him too; he feels like he's cut wide open and his insides are on display.
"You just want me to say nice things about you," he mutters accusingly.
"Blaine," Kurt says, chastising, but Blaine can hear how pleased he sounds. He's not fooling anyone. "I'm trying to make a point."
Blaine opens an eye and looks at him.
"When my dad talked to me about sex it was the single most mortifying thing that's ever happened to me," Kurt says. "I break out in hives just thinking about it. But he said a lot of things that made so much sense. He said sex is only worth it when you're having it with someone who matters, and who knows that you matter. I would really like you to trust me enough to tell me who's been hurting you, but no matter who he is, you need to know how you're thinking about sex isn't the same way he thinks about it."
"Sex is just sex, Kurt," Blaine says, but Kurt is shaking his head emphatically.
"No. It's not. Do you ever spend time with this guy, Blaine? I mean, because you want to? Do you ever want to hear about what he did that day? You said you like my eyes, well what's your favourite feature of his? Do you like it when he laughs?"
Blaine just stares at him. He can tell Kurt believes the things he's saying, somehow he makes Blaine want to believe them, too.
"Wanting someone else isn't always bad, Blaine," Kurt says. "If he really made you gay, you'd think about sex the same way he does, but you obviously don't. You're not like him at all. No matter what's happened to you, loving someone else doesn't have to be bad."
"Is it bad if I want him to love me again?" Blaine asks, quietly. "I don't love him. I maybe never did, but I don't want to be alone, either. I'm so scared of being alone."
Blaine can feel hot tears running down his face again and he can't believe he still has anything left to cry at this point, and then Kurt is hugging him, and he can't believe he's been held so many times tonight, either. No one ever holds him like this.
"You're not alone," Kurt whispers. "I'm here. I'm right here. Please tell me who it is. I just want to help."
"I can't tell anyone," Blaine says. "I'm sorry. I love my parents, even though I try not to. I don't want them to be mad at me, and if I tell anyone they'll know someone had to let it happen. When I was little I thought no one would care but now I know how much trouble they'd get into. I don't want to hurt them."
Kurt makes a frustrated noise.
"Fine," he says. "But we aren't done talking about this. I want you to tell me. This needs to stop, Blaine."
"I think it is," Blaine says. "Something's different now. He doesn't even look at me anymore."
"You're not 7 anymore," Kurt says in a voice so loaded down with disgust and vitriol Blaine almost doesn't recognize it. "You've probably gotten too old for him. Some people only get turned on when they can control the person they're with completely."
Blaine wonders vaguely if Kurt is thinking about Karofsky right now. For a few minutes neither of them speak. They just sit there and silently listen to the radio play, Blaine leaning into Kurt's side as Kurt rubs his arm up and down in slow measured movements. Neither of them comment on the cold.
"This is a good song," Blaine says suddenly. He sort of knows that came out of nowhere, especially when Kurt glances at him like he might have lost his mind, but Blaine means it. It sounds so good it's like it's burrowing into his soul.
"So who are you a fan of?" Kurt asks, after a minute, like he's decided he'll go along with the distraction for the time being. "Johnny Cash or U2?"
Blaine just shrugs.
"I don't know," he says. "I just like this song. It makes sense to me. There's nothing worse than trying to find something when you don't know what you're looking for."
"Maybe not knowing what you want makes it that much better when you find it," Kurt suggests.
"Maybe," Blaine says. He leans further into Kurt and closes his eyes.
To Part Four C| To Masterpost
Author: firefly_ca
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt/Blaine, with eventual appearances from pretty much everyone
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing themes, scenes, etc.
Word Count: Part four is 18K. Um, new record?
Spoilers: All of S2
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson hasn't been Blaine Anderson for 8 years. He doesn't remember much about his old family and his life before he moved in with the man he calls his father. Together they move from town to town, always drifting before Blaine can get too familiar with his surroundings. Then one day they end up in Lima, Ohio, and Blaine finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew.
A/N: Another just for the record regarding song selection. In case it is not obvious by the mention of Johnny Cash, the U2 song Blaine is referring to is this one. So far as this AU's Kurt and Blaine go, I'm pretty sure it is "Their Song" because it fits them beautifully. However, I realized while I was editing that it almost sounds like I'm describing another U2 song (sadly lacking in Johnny Cash, who makes everything better). If you want to pretend that's the song they're listening to, I don't mind. It suits them just as well :)
It's a long and exhausting week for Blaine. Most of the glee club has downgraded defence of Kurt's honour from targeted attacks to ignoring Blaine and pretending he's not there, like they're acting like the bigger people on Kurt's behalf or something. Only Sam and Brittany ever acknowledge him now, Brittany waving at him animatedly while Artie or Santana try to stop her, and Sam smiling amiably and noncommittally when they pass in the halls, same as ever.
Blaine hates that he's making other people so disappointed, and he hates knowing that he's letting people down, so he supposes he should feel relief by the switch in tactics. Instead he barely notices there's been a difference. He feels as heavy and weighed down as ever, the only thing really registering for him is the fact that he's completely destroyed the only good thing he's ever had. Kurt must hate him know and even if he hadn't gone and fallen for the guy, knowing that he's hurt the one person who really means something to him would make him feel like absolute crap.
Since not even the actions of Finn or Mercedes have much bearing on the base level of shitty Blaine feels, the sense of relief that comes with the weekend doesn't have as much to do with the chance to escape New Directions as it does with the fact that he can now drink enough alcohol to kill an elephant. Even though he can't forgive himself for bailing on Kurt, he can always drink so much that he passes out and doesn't need to think about anything anymore.
There are a lot of parties in the works when he leaves the school on Friday. He's biding his time at the mall, sitting in the food court waiting for the first party at Anthony Rashad's house to really get going before he crashes it, when he gets a text from his father.
Dad: Sent 7:08 PM
Come home now. Need to talk. Important.
Blaine groans. Normally he never disobeys Tom, does everything he's told without hesitating. Tom is never too demanding and Blaine has learned the hard way that his methods of discipline are unpredictable and frighteningly imaginative at best. But no matter how many times he looks at the text and tells himself, I need to go home, he doesn't move. He just sits there and waits for 9 o'clock to roll around and the stores to start closing their doors before dragging himself to his feet and making his way to Anthony's.
***
When Blaine gets to Anthony's house he doesn't waste any time making small talk and pretending like he's supposed to be there, which is his usual strategy. Instead he makes his way to the first source of open alcohol he can find and starts in drinking. He still makes a bit of an effort to smile at people and ask how it's going, just in case sullenly downing shot after shot of alcohol before finally giving up on dignity and switching to drinking straight out of the bottle without so much as saying a word to another person pisses Anthony off enough to throw him out.
Blaine feels vibrations from his phone periodically, alerting him to new text messages arriving, but he ignores all of them. Whatever his dad needs to tell him can wait. The asshole ruined his life, after all. Blaine can't bring himself to care if he ruins the evening in return.
As the hard liquor starts to seep into his system, Blaine begins to wonder if he's made the right choice by coming here. He doesn't feel very distracted, if anything he only fixates on his problems more now. He feels more depressed than he's felt all week. Early he had the blinding terror of what was happening to him keeping him from thinking about it too closely. Blaine guesses that makes sense, because if you're running away from an angry bear or something, you don't take the time to turn around to get a better look. Right now though, all that terror has faded away into the dull ache of inevitability. He wants another boy so far it doesn't seem like any amount of running is going to change that.
Tom always told him this would happen one day.
"One day this will feel so good."
"You'll learn to love this."
"One day you'll be such a slut for me that you'll beg me for it."
Blaine blinks hard, trying to force the voices out of his head. Tom always wanted someone who would want him back, he didn't want someone who would go off and find someone else to perve on. He wonders if Tom saw him the way Blaine sees Kurt: perfect and untouched, something to be explored and discovered. He drinks some more from the bottle in his hand. He's not even sure what it is. Whiskey maybe. He just needs to stop thinking the things he's thinking.
For the last seven years Blaine has been slowly turning into a monster, evil and destructive. Every time Tom touches him, the more like Tom he becomes. Blaine doesn't even know if he can stop it, even if he can't change what's already been done. Maybe he's not too late to at least keep things from getting worse. He wonders if his parents would have sent him away if they knew what it would turn him into. Or maybe he was always this way and they didn't want to see him grow into the part. Maybe Tom had nothing to do with it, and Blaine's just always been wrong - a lost cause his own family didn't see as worth saving.
A tear splashes onto his cheek. Blaine hastily wipes it away before anyone notices and has another drink. He wonders if he could find enough half-filled bottles to keep drinking until his body gives up on him too. He thinks about dying a lot as a way to escape Tom, but until now he's never thought of it as a way to escape himself. Blaine wonders if it's a mercy killing if it's suicide, if he deserves mercy at all. But he's not the only person to think about in all this, either. He may be undeserving but there's Kurt who needs saving from him, too. Kurt who is so open and accepting he probably wouldn't turn Blaine away until it's too late.
Anthony and some of the other jocks have started to give him some really strange looks, and Blaine sort of remembers he'd been trying to not get drunk off in the corner without interacting with anyone else. He staggers to his feet, wondering if he should try to rectify this, or just steal another bottle of something and leave. He's weaving his way over to a rapidly disappearing bottle of vodka when he hears the back door open and several new voices, talking excitedly all at once.
They sound familiar and Blaine squints across the room for a while before it registers that he's looking at the glee club, all very loud and all very drunk, except perhaps for Finn, who Blaine notes is the only one not hanging on to someone else to stay upright. He wonders where they'd been hiding since he hadn't remembered seeing any of them here earlier when he hears Mike happily talking to one of the other jocks,
"Puck's texting machine said Anthony's party could only be better if it wasn't already low on beverages."
He carefully enunciates "bev-er-AUGH-ges" and seems pleased when it comes out properly.
"So I said to Puck, 'Puck! If the Muppets always taught me to share, just like Whoever Jewish Jesus Is taught you to share, then maybe we should fucking share. If we took our drinks to share at their party, our parties would merge to form a super party that would be the best of all parties. Just like on Power Rangers."
Blaine had never known that New Directions were prone to throwing big parties for themselves where they got drunk and talked about children's television or whatever. He also didn't know that Jewish Jesus wasn't regular Jesus, but both of these issues are secondary to making sure Kurt isn't hanging out somewhere with the rest of his old friends.
He doesn't know what the best way is to deal with this. Kurt's friends haven't been as hard on him for the last couple days, but he still knows they won't respond well if he casually asks them if Kurt is around when he goes up and asks one of them. He's just deciding that maybe it would be better if he sticks with his original plan and leaves before anyone notices him when a voice from behind says,
"Don't worry. He's not here."
Blaine turns around and Sam is standing there, looking drunk and relaxed, but still aware enough his surroundings to have noticed Blaine looking.
"Rachel threw a party at her house tonight," Sam says. "All of glee club came. She invited Kurt too, but he had other plans. Something about an after school meeting with the Warblers. They still haven't found a good enough lead singer for the competitions next year and the council is panicking."
"Seems a little early for them to do that," Blaine says, but he's not really thinking about what Sam is saying, too busy trying to decide if he's sad Kurt isn't there or relieved. He doesn't notice Sam watching him.
"Kurt's a really good guy, you know?" Sam says finally, and here it comes. Blaine had been wondering why Sam has been holding back when everyone else was more than happy to have a go at him. He turns to leave abruptly and almost falls over when Sam grabs onto his arm.
"No don't leave," Sam says. "I don't want to tell you you suck or anything like that. I just wanted to say that if something's bothering you, you can talk to Kurt about it. He's a really understanding person. If you have a problem he might be able to help you."
Blaine squints at him suspiciously.
"How do you know?" He asks. "When have you ever told Kurt one of your secrets?"
Sam shrugs, a little uncomfortable now.
"We've just been talking a lot more lately," he says, vaguely. "Kurt's a good friend to have, if you give him the chance."
"I don't need any friends," Blaine says, and this bottle of vodka isn't as full as he thought. It won't even last for half an hour once Blaine is gone, so he heads back to the liquor cabinet to see what else is left. Somewhere along the way he bumps into Rachel, who seems to have forgotten she's angry with him, if the way she clings at him and rubs against him is any indicator.
"Oh Blaine," she says. "I've missed you! We never talk anymore and you still won't sing with us and you make me sad. That's very uncool, Blaine."
"Uh, hi Rachel," he says, trying to pull her off of him so he can get past, but he's too drunk to get very far and she's too drunk to take the hint.
"Blaine, Finn just said I'm needy," Rachel whines. "I don't think I'm needy, do you? God he is such a jerk."
She twists around to shout this, making sure Finn is watching her from across the room. Finn rolls his eyes and goes back to talking to Anthony.
"Did you see that," Rachel hisses, her eyes flashing. "What a jerk."
She stops and leans back into Blaine, sniffing his neck before announcing.
"You? Smell awesome. Let's dance!"
Rachel begins bopping and hopping around to the music, holding onto Blaine's hands and leaving him no option but to join in with her, at least partially. He focuses on how her horrid green dress moves and slides across her body, noticing that she seems to have lost her bra at some point. Slowly he wonders if maybe noticing is a good sign for him. Maybe if he tries he could make sure whatever was happening to him did stop where it is. He would always feel this way for Kurt, but if he made sure never to see Kurt again maybe it wouldn't matter. Not if he liked girls like a normal person the rest of the time.
"We should make out," he whispers into Rachel's ear. She stops nuzzling his hair and smiles at him hugely.
"I am gonna rock your world," she whispers back and suddenly her mouth is on his and her hands are around his neck pulling him closer as they deepen the kiss. So far as drunk kisses go this one is intense and spectacular. Rachel is nothing if not an excellent kisser and for a few moments, Blaine is convinced that he could get very used to this.
Then he moves to slide his hand down her back and pull her closer, and her body is soft and curvy, nothing like a boy's. Her hair is long and soft and tickles his face. Her lips taste like chap stick. Blaine pulls her hips towards his realizes this is the closest he's ever gotten to a girl in his life. He feels like somehow it should mean more to him than it does.
I wonder what it would feel like to hold Kurt like this. The thought comes to him unbidden and brings with it a spike of arousal. Kissing Rachel is nice, but that one thought about Kurt sends a wave of emotion running over him that threatens to push all thoughts of Rachel to the side completely.
He tries to focus on her, desperately relocate himself in the moment, but it's no use. Everything about her feels wrong and out of place to him. There's nothing to hold his interest or keep his mind from drifting back to imagining holding a slight but masculine build, reaching up to kiss a mouth slightly higher than his own, running his hands through a short-cropped head of hair.
"Fuck," he says, pulling away from Rachel. Of course it didn't work. Of course it couldn't be that easy.
"What's wrong?" Rachel asks, sounding like she doesn't know if she should be concerned or hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Blaine says, and his throat feels constricted and sore. His eyes are stinging. "It's not you, it's me. I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have...why can't I feel this?"
He looks at her desperately and her eyes are wide in confusion and concern.
"You're so pretty, Rachel," he says, tears he's been holding back for over a week finally starting to fall. "You're so goddamn attractive. If you knew how pretty you are you would be the most popular girl in school, you know that? Why can't I feel this? What's wrong with me?"
"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine," Rachel is saying, like she's trying to be comforting, but is much too drunk to remember how to go about it. "Are you gay? S'okay, Blaine. S'okay, s'okay."
"It's not okay," Blaine says, as she takes him by the hand and leads him away from the music. "You're so beautiful, and yeah, you're a little loud and kind of intense sometimes, but you're so pretty. Inside and outside, except for right now, because of your dress - it's really bad Rachel. But still, you're perfect and even though none of the guys want to admit it, I'm pretty sure every member of every sports team thinks about you in those skirts at night when they masturbate. Why can't you turn me on, too?"
Rachel's smile is a little strained, and the pats she has been gently giving his arm start to carry a sting with them as she says,
"Okay Blaine, just a lil tip: if you wanna gay crisis all over me by telling me how pretty I am, tha's really nice, but only if you don't be mean and objexify...objer...start calling me a hot footstool, okay?"
"Sorry," Blaine mumbles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Rachel looks at him and her lower lib wobbles a little as she suddenly grabs him into a hug, petting his hair softly.
"Don't be sad," she says. "Gay people are really nice, Blaine. I know. Both of my dads are gay and they like me more than anyone else I know. And Kurt! Kurt's super gay. Do you remember him? Isn't he nice?"
Blaine whimpers a little and whispers,
"I know."
"See?" Rachel says, smiling brightly as she pulls back to stare at him with slightly glassy eyes. "Don't you feel better now?"
Blaine still can't stop crying, and the smile falls from Rachel's face as she takes him by the hand again and leads him to the nearest sofa, where Puck is looking incredulously at Santana who is sobbing hard as she tells Sam about the ending to Toy Story 3.
"Is this a crying couch?" Rachel slurs, gently pushing Blaine into the space between Puck and Santana. "Because Blaine is probly gay and he needs to cry about it for a little while."
Puck looks at Blaine with his eyebrows raised a little, looking a lot more sober than everyone else in the room at the moment. Admittedly this doesn't mean a whole lot.
"You didn't know you were a homo?" he grins. "You should have asked one of us, we all knew."
"Oh God," Blaine moans, burying his face in his hands.
"Come on, Puck," Sam is saying. "That's really not helping."
"Yeah," he hears Santana say, shakily. "Maybe it's not easy figuring out that you're not as straight as your friends, did you ever think about that Puckerman? Maybe it really sucks."
"I can't be gay," he says into his hands. "If I'm gay, my dad..."
He trails off, losing the sentence in a haze of alcohol before he can say it, but he feels the sofa shift as Puck leans forward to hear better.
"You're worried about your dad finding out?" He asks, suddenly a lot more serious. "Why? Do you think you might get into trouble for liking other guys?"
"Oh tha's not good," he hears Rachel say in drunken disapproval, but he doesn't really listen.
"I never know what I'll do that'll get me into trouble," he admits, defeated. "It's like, I never know what will make him mad at me."
"Well, you probably shouldn't start smoking your pot in front of him then," Sam says, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Blaine just shakes his head.
"Dad's the one who bought marijuana for me in the first place. He said I needed to learn to calm down."
There's a pause, and then Puck says,
"Dude, why are you worried about getting into trouble about anything? Your dad sounds awesome!"
"He gets so angry," Blaine says, leaning back against the cushions and staring blankly at the wall. "It's like every time I see him I don't know what's going to happen."
"Maybe he's just worried about you?" Sam suggests.
Blaine pulls down his shirt collar and turns to Sam so he can see the long jagged cut that runs along his collarbone.
"He did that once because I called him by his first name. Threw me across the fucking room and I went through a glass coffee table. Sometimes he still throws things at me if I hesitate before I say dad, just in case I was thinking about saying something else."
"Holy shit," Puck says. "Does he have that Joan Crawford thing or something?"
"What?" Blaine asks, confused and a little frustrated. "He doesn't have anything. He has me, and I'm never gonna get out. I don't have friends, I don't have a family, he doesn't let me."
Blaine is really crying now, but for some reason he can't stop talking. Now that he's started to say all these things out loud, he feels like something inside will crush him if he stops.
"It's like every time I feel safe, like things are going to get better, it's like he can tell and we're packing up to leave again. I'm gonna die one day, all alone, and it's going to be because that's what he wants. He wants me to die without ever being happy, even once. I think he's happy and doesn't want me to know what it feels like, do you know how fucked up that is?"
"Blaine," Rachel says, as she unsteadily gets down on her knees and leans forward to cup Blaine's face in her cool hands, working very hard to enunciate so he knows she means it. "That's not right, Blaine. You need to do something about that. If your dad needs help, you need to tell somebody. If he's hurting you, you have to make it stop. He can't stop you from living or being happy. No one can make you die alone."
"He can," Blaine says, staring back into Rachel's eyes. "One day he'll kill me. I'll do something, I'll cross a line, and he'll just do it."
Rachel doesn't say anything, but there are tears spilling down her cheeks now too, and somewhere to his right he can hear the keypad of a phone.
"I hope he does it soon," Blaine adds, almost to himself and suddenly he has a lap full of Rachel Berry, who has climbed on top of him, holding him tightly as he cries on her shoulder.
***
It's a little while after that before anything else happens. Rachel stays where she is and even though Blaine's legs fell asleep a long time ago, he doesn't make her move. He likes the weight of her there, reminding him where he is. He's vaguely aware of a rotating cycle of New Directions approaching the small group and asking if everything is alright, especially Finn. Even Mercedes has given up on her silent treatment and he hears her cautiously asking something about "how much longer?"
Sometimes he hears Puck or Sam answer, and one time Santana sobs something to Brittany about how "Blaine's life is awful and it's really ruining my buzz" but he never says anything and neither does Rachel so far as he notices. He's not really interested in responding to anyone ever again until he feels Puck vacating his spot for someone new, and someone is trying to pull Rachel away and a voice that Blaine feels he hasn't heard in ages is saying,
"I can take it from here, Rachel."
"Kurt," Rachel says, loosening her hold a little as she looks over at Kurt but makes no moves to get up. "Blaine is really upset right now."
"I heard," Kurt says, and Blaine isn't looking at him but he can hear that smile in his voice just as well as always, although it sounds like it's tempered with something else. "That's why I thought I'd stop by."
"Hey," Blaine says, wiping his eyes again and turning to face Kurt as he realizes something. "You finally showed up without an invitation!"
"What can I say?" Kurt says. "It seemed like as good a time as any. You're a terrible influence on me, Blaine Brenner."
Blaine heaves out a sob, and then another one, and Rachel is leaning back on him and patting him all over his head and shoulders making insane noises that are probably supposed to be consoling and Blaine is suddenly aware that they must look absolutely ridiculous right now.
"We can't get him to stop Kurt," Rachel says and she looks a little more sober now, but a lot more frantic as she looks at Kurt wildly.
"I can tell," Kurt says, and he sounds calm but he looks pretty worried himself as he slips an arm behind Blaine and squeezes his shoulder. "Why don't you get up so we can give his legs a chance to get some circulation in them, and then I'll take him home?"
"I don't want to go home," Blaine says as Rachel slides onto the floor. "I hate going home."
"Okay," Kurt says agreeably. "I'll take you somewhere else. We don't have to go home if you don't want to."
"I don't really even have a home," Blaine says, and Kurt looks at him in confusion, so Blaine clarifies, louder. "I don't have a home."
"I do," Kurt suggests. "Maybe we could go there?"
"Your dad doesn't like me," Blaine says.
"He'll get over it," Finn says, and Blaine didn't even know he was still there. "He likes me now, and he actually threw me out once."
"He's too over-protective sometimes," Kurt agrees. "But he always comes around."
"You're so lucky," Blaine says, quietly and Kurt gives him another worried look before finally asking, "Do you think you can walk? We really need to get you out of here."
Kurt gets up and tries to help Blaine get to his feet, which is quite the task since his legs really haven't woken up yet and for a second it feels like Blaine is going to do a face plant into the carpet, but suddenly Finn is right there, reflexes benefiting by being one of the only two sober people in the room, and he's helping Kurt haul Blaine outside to his Navigator.
"I hope you don't mind having your car covered in barf," Finn comments as they slowly manoeuvre away from the music and noise.
"I certainly do mind," Kurt says. "That's why I brought a very big garbage bag. Blaine?"
He raises his voice to make sure he has Blaine's attention. "If you are going to do any vomiting you will do it into that garbage bag, do I make myself clear?"
"Uh-huh," Blaine says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, but distracted by how the streetlights are spinning.
It takes some wrangling on everyone's part to get Blaine firmly belted into the car, weakly leaning over the garbage bag, just in case. Kurt is just climbing into his seat and getting ready to close the door when Finn leans in to get another look at Blaine and say,
"Don't leave him alone for a while, okay? He was really scary in there, Kurt. He kept talking about wanting to die and feeling alone and...just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"
"I won't," Kurt sounds grim as he shuts the door and turns on the engine. He pulls out as gently as he can manage and Blaine is vaguely aware that he's driving below the speed limit, likely to avoid any unnecessary bumps or jarring movements.
"You're amazing," he mumbles.
"I am," Kurt agrees. "But don't think flattery will get you out of an explanation. Blacking out won't help you either, because I'll just pour water on you until you knock it off, so don't even try it. Now, care to explain what's been going on lately?"
"Nothing much," Blaine says, but Kurt snorts.
"Bullshit. You completely stopped talking to me last week for no reason. I kept going over our texts trying to find something that made you mad enough to drop me like that but there wasn't anything to find. Now I see you again and you look like you're having a nervous breakdown. What's going on?"
"I was doing you a favour," Blaine says, a little sullenly. "You think that because we're good friends now it's gonna be forever? Because guess what? My life doesn't work that way. One day I'll be making plans with you for the weekend and the next I'll be gone and you'll never hear from me again. So if you don't like it just let me out now and we can go back to ignoring each other."
"What's wrong with you Blaine?" Kurt asks again.
"It's all your fault," Blaine says.
"What is?" And Kurt sounds so upset that Blaine is even angrier with himself.
"Shit I'm sorry," He says, slumping against the window as the tears start falling again. "It's not your fault, Kurt. It's not your fault. I'm just so messed up and now I've dragged you right into the middle of it and I never wanted to that to you."
"What did you drag me into?" Kurt persists, as they slow for an approaching stop sign. "Blaine, you're not making any sense."
"I told Rachel she's beautiful tonight," Blaine says, closing his eyes. "And she is, but she doesn't even come close to you."
Kurt makes a little strangled sound and stalls the car. Twice. When he finally gets them moving again, it's only long enough to pull over to the side of the road and shift in his seat to get a good look at Blaine.
"What?" is all that he says.
"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Blaine says, truthfully. "Just gorgeous. Sometimes when I look at you it's all I can think about. I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Kurt asks. "I mean, if you think you you're gay, I understand how that might freak you out, but you never have to apologise about it, especially not to me."
"Yes I do," Blaine insists, feeling the panic rise up inside him again. "You don't deserve this, Kurt. This is all wrong, I'm all wrong. I'm sick, do you get that?"
"Blaine, there's nothing sick about being gay," Kurt says, his voice going slightly on edge. "You know that, at least I thought you did."
"I'm not gay," Blaine says, his voice rising in his desperation for Kurt to get this. "I'm wrong. I am a fucking creep, Kurt. And if I let you stay friends with me, you'll end up just like me."
"There's nothing wrong with you, Blaine," Kurt says, and he's starting to sound angry. "If you like guys, you like guys. There's no right or wrong way to go about it. You can't call yourself a creep without calling me one, too."
He looks away in disgust.
"I don't believe this," He says. "First Karofsky and that stupid kiss, and now I'm sitting here listening to a boy tell me he likes me and it's just as ugly. Why do all my firsts go so wrong?"
"Because it's me," Blaine says, trying to fight through his muddled thoughts for clarity. "It's my fault. I destroy good things, Kurt. It's what I do. I never should have let myself get to know you, but you made me feel like I could be happy when I was with you. I didn't want to let go of that. It was selfish, though. It was selfish and wrong and I'm sorry."
He takes a deep breath and adds,
"I never said you were a creep. You're not the wrong one, I am."
"But I'm gay, too," Kurt says.
"You don't get it," Blaine says. "I'm not gay, alright? It's not the same for me. You've always been this way."
"Why do you think you're any different?" Kurt says. "You're right, I don't understand what you're telling me. I like guys and apparently you do too. We're the same."
"The difference is you're gay and it's not a mistake," Blaine says. "You're the way you're supposed to be. I'm like, I don't know, Frankenstein's monster. If I like you it's not because I'm gay it's because I'm a goddamned puppet."
"No one can make another person gay, Blaine," Kurt says. "You are or you aren't, that's all."
Blaine leans back against the window and huddles in on himself. He wishes he could stop shaking.
"Then he picked me because he could tell," he says quietly. "I don't know which one is worse."
"Blaine," Kurt says, and he trails off. Suddenly he sounds very wary.
"I don't want to talk about it, Kurt," Blaine says. He's still incredibly hammered, but he's slowly realizing that he's been talking a lot more than he normally does tonight, and that if he keeps it up, he's going to reveal something he regrets, even more than what he's already done.
"Blaine, look at me," Kurt's voice is firm and Blaine feels his hand touch his shoulder. He tries to shy away, but the hand follows. "Blaine, I mean it. Look at me."
Blaine turns around, slowly. Kurt looks terrified.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying? Someone molested you?"
It takes a moment for Blaine to remember that he has to answer, to deny it even though he knows it's true, but he's just so stunned to hear it said out loud like that, that for a moment he can't say anything. That second of hesitation must have said volumes to Kurt though, because suddenly Kurt has managed to slide over on to the armrest and he's wrapping Blaine up in his arms and Blaine thinks maybe he could still turn this around, say Kurt has it wrong and after Kurt makes some awkward apologies they can both pretend this never happened, but Kurt is holding him and it feels wonderful and Blaine doesn't say a word.
"I'm so sorry," Kurt is saying, and his voice is choked. "How - when did it happen?"
"I don't - " Blaine breaks off, because he's really not sure what to say. He's so confused and he doesn't really get what Kurt is asking. "I'm not sure? I think I was maybe 7 the first time."
"It happened more than one time?" Kurt sounds devastated.
Blaine wants to make it so he never said anything at all, but the parts of his brain that handle lying and silence are both passed out drunk right now so instead he says,
"Not one time. All the time. It's happened so much, now I'm trying to push it off on to other people. I'm not stupid. I read things, Kurt. People say if it happened to you, you do it to other people, and that's the what's happening. It's why I've started to have these fucking sick dreams about you. It's like I'm dirty now but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Kurt. I don't want to get you dirty, too."
Kurt pulls away from Blaine, keeping a tight grip on Blaine's arms as he stares at him so intently Blaine can almost see the thoughts flying behind his eyes. It's like he has a million questions and a million things to say and he has no idea what should come out first.
"You're not dirty, Blaine," Is what he finally seems to settle on. "You are kind and caring and thoughtful. You're wonderful, and the only person who is sick and disgusting is the person who did this to you."
He hesitates a little before saying,
"Blaine? I know that this is a very big deal for you to tell me, and I get it's not exactly fair to ask you about something so scary while you're, um, not at your best, but this is important. Too important for me to wait. You said this started when you were 7? It's just...you told me you were 7 when your mom left, that now it's just you and your dad. When Finn and Mercedes started calling me tonight, they said you were...saying things about how you and your father don't get along. Is your father the one who - ?"
"Stop it," Blaine cuts him off, his stomach roiling. "My father would never do that."
Everything is fuzzy right now, and Blaine knows he's not quite getting some of what Kurt is asking, somehow, but he knows his father, or at least he knew him, once. Just thinking about him doing what Tom has done to him is making the air in the car suffocating. He desperately fumbles with his seatbelt and the door, staggering gracelessly into the fresh night air.
Kurt is at his side again in an instant, apologizing.
"Okay, okay Blaine," he says. "I'm sorry. I just needed to know."
Blaine just shakes his head, refusing to be led back into the car, taking in big gulps of air. Kurt doesn't look convinced, and Blaine needs Kurt to understand. He parents are only memories now, but knowing Kurt thinks something like that about them hurts in a way he wouldn't be able to explain even if he were sober.
"He hates me, Kurt," he says. "My father hates me, but he's not - he would never do that. He's not a bad person, he just doesn't want me around."
"That sounds like a bad person to me," Kurt says, quietly. "Sam said he hurts you."
"Tom," Blaine says, finally realizing what it is Kurt is trying to say. "Tom...wasn't exactly meant to be a parent. He used to say I was the perfect son for him. He used to think I mattered. But lately...I think he hates me now, too."
Kurt's brow wrinkles a little in confusion.
"You're not making sense, Blaine. What do you mean 'too'? Will you tell me who's doing this to you, please? If it's not your dad, is it another family member or something? I can help you. You don't have to go through this anymore."
"Family," Blaine mutters to himself, as he lets himself think about the way Tom seems to care less and less what he does, how he hardly comes into his room anymore, how sometimes Blaine catches him looking at him in open disgust.
He slides down the side of the car, sitting heavily on the pavement. He can hear the sound of the radio playing faintly above his head.
"I don't think I have any family any more. There's something wrong with me. It's like...people love me when everything is new. But then they get to know me and they don't want me anymore. Not even for things like sex. I don't like having sex, Kurt. I hate it, but at least I knew someone cared. What happens to me when I'm not even worth that?"
"Stop it, stop it," Kurt is whispering, and he sounds absolutely broken. "That's not true. You are worth so much. You're better than the things that happen to you."
He gets to his knees and turns to face him, leaning forward and Blaine can see how earnest he looks with his face bathed in the interior light of the car.
"I'm not dirty because of Karofsky, right?"
"Of course not," Blaine says.
"Then how could it be any different because it's you?"
"You don't understand," Blaine tries again. "Those dreams I've been having about you - obviously I want it, or else why would I think about you like that? Something broke and now I'm just like him."
"Blaine," Kurt says firmly, and Blaine thinks he's trying to look authoritative, but the effect is sort of ruined by how red his face is getting. "When you're a teenager our age? I'm pretty sure sex dreams are how you tell you aren't broken. Seriously. Trent from the Warblers says he never wants to have sex at all and even he said he has sex dreams."
"You too?" Blaine asks, and Kurt gets even redder.
"To be honest," he says, painfully awkward and refusing to look Blaine in the eye. "Sometimes. I've...I've sort of had a crush on you since we met, Blaine. I told you my type was straight jocks once, but that's not it at all. Sweet guys with protective streaks have always been like Kryptonite to me. God, Finn stood up for me once the first time he talked to me and I had a crush on him for almost a year. The night my father met you, Finn mentioned that he'd seen you helping me get slushie out of my clothes and two nights later I was getting lectured about safe sex. That's how much you are my type. My dad had no clue if you were gay or straight, but I'm so damn predictable he wasn't about to take any chances."
Blaine's heart is hammering in his chest. He doesn't know if he needs to feel upset and vindicated by what Kurt is saying, because Kurt likes him and he really is like poison, or elated and overwhelmed because Kurt likes him. He settles for feeling everything at once.
Kurt is looking at him carefully, obviously deep in thought.
"Can I ask you a very embarrassing question? I promise there's a point," He finally asks. Blaine shrugs a little, so Kurt takes a breath and continues. "When you dream about me, what happens? Obviously we're, um, doing things but...I know when Karofsky was getting so scary before I left McKinley I had a couple intense dreams - nightmares, really - about him. The dreams didn't mean I wanted him or what he was doing, though. How do you know your dreams are about how much you like me?"
"Karofsky wanted to hurt you," Blaine says. "You'd never hurt me. I've had nightmares about people who've hurt me, Kurt. These aren't like those kinds of dreams at all. It's like all my favourite things about you are up close and in front of me, and I can look at them all as much as I want. I can look at your eyes, and the freckles on your nose, and I get to hear your voice, and your stories and secrets, and your laugh. You laugh so much in my dreams. I think I might like it the most."
He leans back and rolls over a little, trying to move to his side and close his eyes. Things feel too close again. He can't talk about Kurt and look at him too; he feels like he's cut wide open and his insides are on display.
"You just want me to say nice things about you," he mutters accusingly.
"Blaine," Kurt says, chastising, but Blaine can hear how pleased he sounds. He's not fooling anyone. "I'm trying to make a point."
Blaine opens an eye and looks at him.
"When my dad talked to me about sex it was the single most mortifying thing that's ever happened to me," Kurt says. "I break out in hives just thinking about it. But he said a lot of things that made so much sense. He said sex is only worth it when you're having it with someone who matters, and who knows that you matter. I would really like you to trust me enough to tell me who's been hurting you, but no matter who he is, you need to know how you're thinking about sex isn't the same way he thinks about it."
"Sex is just sex, Kurt," Blaine says, but Kurt is shaking his head emphatically.
"No. It's not. Do you ever spend time with this guy, Blaine? I mean, because you want to? Do you ever want to hear about what he did that day? You said you like my eyes, well what's your favourite feature of his? Do you like it when he laughs?"
Blaine just stares at him. He can tell Kurt believes the things he's saying, somehow he makes Blaine want to believe them, too.
"Wanting someone else isn't always bad, Blaine," Kurt says. "If he really made you gay, you'd think about sex the same way he does, but you obviously don't. You're not like him at all. No matter what's happened to you, loving someone else doesn't have to be bad."
"Is it bad if I want him to love me again?" Blaine asks, quietly. "I don't love him. I maybe never did, but I don't want to be alone, either. I'm so scared of being alone."
Blaine can feel hot tears running down his face again and he can't believe he still has anything left to cry at this point, and then Kurt is hugging him, and he can't believe he's been held so many times tonight, either. No one ever holds him like this.
"You're not alone," Kurt whispers. "I'm here. I'm right here. Please tell me who it is. I just want to help."
"I can't tell anyone," Blaine says. "I'm sorry. I love my parents, even though I try not to. I don't want them to be mad at me, and if I tell anyone they'll know someone had to let it happen. When I was little I thought no one would care but now I know how much trouble they'd get into. I don't want to hurt them."
Kurt makes a frustrated noise.
"Fine," he says. "But we aren't done talking about this. I want you to tell me. This needs to stop, Blaine."
"I think it is," Blaine says. "Something's different now. He doesn't even look at me anymore."
"You're not 7 anymore," Kurt says in a voice so loaded down with disgust and vitriol Blaine almost doesn't recognize it. "You've probably gotten too old for him. Some people only get turned on when they can control the person they're with completely."
Blaine wonders vaguely if Kurt is thinking about Karofsky right now. For a few minutes neither of them speak. They just sit there and silently listen to the radio play, Blaine leaning into Kurt's side as Kurt rubs his arm up and down in slow measured movements. Neither of them comment on the cold.
"This is a good song," Blaine says suddenly. He sort of knows that came out of nowhere, especially when Kurt glances at him like he might have lost his mind, but Blaine means it. It sounds so good it's like it's burrowing into his soul.
"So who are you a fan of?" Kurt asks, after a minute, like he's decided he'll go along with the distraction for the time being. "Johnny Cash or U2?"
Blaine just shrugs.
"I don't know," he says. "I just like this song. It makes sense to me. There's nothing worse than trying to find something when you don't know what you're looking for."
"Maybe not knowing what you want makes it that much better when you find it," Kurt suggests.
"Maybe," Blaine says. He leans further into Kurt and closes his eyes.
To Part Four C| To Masterpost