Not Keen On Tuesdays, Either (13/14)
Title: Not Keen on Tuesdays, Either.
Author: mothergoddamn & rebness
Pairing/characters: Blaine/Kurt, Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Finn, Kurt/Karofsky (one-sided)
Warning: Character death. Extreme violence. Dark!Fic.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When the students of McKinley High are staring death in the face, who will live to tell the tale?
Previous:
1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8/ 9/ 10/ 11/ 12
Not Keen On Tuesdays, Either
Chapter 13
Blaine Anderson had faced some dark times in his life. He'd made a throwaway reference to what he'd gone through before Dalton when he first met Kurt. He didn't believe in dwelling on the past, but when that pale and fragile boy, the picture of tolerant misery, had asked him for advice, he'd opened up the first time in a long while.
Things were difficult, he'd admitted. He hadn't been strong enough to take the bullying. And after Sadie Hawkins, he'd finally gave in. He'd fled. And though Dalton had restored his confidence, made him grow into the person he knew he was meant to be, he admired Kurt's bravery. Kurt's strength of character had always awed him, always. And when his awe had grown into real, crushing love for the boy, he'd spent many a night mulling it over. What was it that drew him to Kurt?
There were many things, he realised. But chief amongst them was that Kurt embodied the uncertain boy he himself had once been, but with an inner strength that surpassed his own. He would emulate that strength, he decided. He would never again run away.
And now, two people were laying dead at his very feet and he'd do anything, anything to flee this room and take Kurt with him.
Is that cowardice? he wondered, I don't think so. What's cowardly about loving someone and wanting to keep them safe, after all?
'Okay,' said Jeremiah, cutting through his thoughts. ''This is no fun, anymore. Will you stop screaming?' he said to Rachel. She didn't. He raised his voice to drown out her sobs. 'So, Blaine. We need to decide who goes next. You can help me.' He pressed his face into Blaine's cheek. 'Right?'
'You-- you just---' Blaine felt humiliation crest in him as his anger and his fear spilt over into tears. 'I mean--you--'
'Did you go all Flowers for Algernon, Blaine? Is that why they put you in this school? You used to be irritatingly talkative on our little coffee dates.' He smirked. 'I could never get a word in.'
'Please don't do this,' he choked, struggling against Jeremiah's hold. 'You've done enough now!'
'Hmm.' Jeremiah nodded. 'Okay. I'm going to give you a break, how about I gave you back that control you like so much? I'm going to let you pick who gets to die.'
Karofsky blanched. 'Oh, fuck.'
'I'll do the allegory at your funeral,' said Brittany placatingly.
'No!' Kurt cried. 'You can't do that! That's not fair, you can't do that!'
'What's your problem?' Karofsky snapped. 'You're golden!'
'You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?' Jeremiah whispered into Blaine's ear. 'I see how you look at him -- how he's looking at you. Is he dying sweetly, Blaine? He looks so pale, wilting like a pretty flower.' He laughed harshly. 'Such a touching love story!'
Hatred for Jeremiah turned the blood in his veins to acid. He bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed a little. 'You kill him,' Blaine muttered, 'you kill him and I will kill you.'
'I don't need to,' said Jeremiah, smiling. 'He's doing fine all by himself.'
'If you're giving Blaine your master plan,' shouted Santana, 'you could at least speak a bit louder.'
'Oh, yes!' said Jeremiah. 'Decimation!' He turned to Karofsky. 'Right, since you volunteered, big guy. Give us a reason you should live.' He spoke close into his face again, turning his stomach as the wet of his lips touched his skin. 'He is rather delicious, isn't he, Blaine? I like them large and stupid.'
'Oh, for fuck's-' Santana hissed. 'Don't look so pleased about it, Dave!'
'You can totally do better,' said Brittany, nodded sagely.
'Well?' Jeremiah held up the shotgun and gave it a little wiggle. 'I'm waiting.'
Karofsky stared back, his eyes wide and panicked. 'Because-- because I'm gay! Like you!' Karofsky looked almost delighted. 'I mean, Pride and, like, bros and shit.' He gave a little fist pump and a solemn nod.
'Ten minutes ago you were a coathanger, and now you're telling the first gun toting fuck that asks you?' Santana arched a brow. 'If that's a free pass, throw me one. I'm gay, too.' She shrugged at Brittany's pleased grasp to her shoulder, but her finger trailed over Brittany's arm tenderly. A tiny gesture of love in a hurricane of hate.
'Me, too,' gasped Kurt. 'And Blaine.'
'I think I'm bi,' Brittany considered. 'Maybe if you just shoot some of me? Like my legs.'
'I had a dream about Justin Timberlake once,' Finn said miserably. 'If that counts?'
'Jesus!' Jeremiah sucked in his breath. 'What's in the water at the school?' He shook his head in disgust. 'If we could just bring the LGBT meeting to a close and get back to the matter at hand. No, that is not a free pass.' He looked back to Karofsky. 'Shoot again, stud.’
Karofsky clutched at his arm, looking small and lost. Liquid quickly filled his eyes, and wow, did that hurt. Despite everything, seeing Karofsky the brute tear up was almost Blaine's breaking point. His eyes strayed over to a weak Kurt. Almost.
'Because-- Because I deserve another chance.' Karofsky also glanced over at Kurt who stared back weakly. 'To make everything right. I messed up the first time. Please, Blaine!' Karofsky was shaking now. 'I want to be better, not just for everyone else, but for me! I want that chance! I haven’t lived yet, I haven’t atoned--’'
'I am so bored I can't feel my feet. Okay, you. Why should you live, blondie?'
Brittany chewed her lip. 'I don't want to die?'
'That's--' Jeremiah nodded, impressed. 'That's honest. I like it.' She smiled widely and he rolled his eyes. 'You, Good and Plenty. Let's have it.'
'Because you don't have the right to choose who lives and dies,' Mercedes said dully, still staring at Sam's body. 'You want to quote your crazy cult to me? I’ll quote my God to you: there is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbour?' She scowled. 'Stick that in your crazy pipe and smoke it.'
'First of all, fuck all your dumb religions, sweetheart. And second, I'm totally able to save and destroy. I'm going with destroy today. Right now, I am your God.'
Mercedes didn't reply. She continued to gaze at Sam. Blaine felt his heart breaking for her: she'd believed in Sam. She'd harboured a tender crush on him. And despite everything, despite the carnage he had wrought today, she still mourned his loss.
'Hey, Mercedes...' he murmured.
'Turn away,' she said quietly.
Blaine winced. Did she blame him? Did she believe that somehow Blaine had brought horror to McKinley by simply taking an interest in Jeremiah? But, no. Surely that was wrong? It had to be wrong, because the crushing guilt would kill him.
'It's not fair,' Finn whispered softly, to their side. 'It's not fair.'
Roughly, Jeremiah spun him around, turning to Finn. 'What? Why shouldn't I kill you? I didn't quite catch that?'
'Because I don't know!' Finn screamed. 'I don't know why I should live and someone else die, okay? I don't think like that! Maybe I shouldn't? I don't know- I don't--' he covered his face to his hands and Kurt wrapped his arm tight around him. From the floor, Rachel stared at him, her chin wobbling as she patted Quinn's hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.
'It's okay, Quinn,' she murmured. 'I promise we'll sort this out somehow.'
'Ri-ight. Put the shrill girl down as crazy, Blaine.' He stepped forward, moving Blaine with him. 'Any contenders yet? Oh, we haven't heard from La Dykita.'
Santana smiled sweetly, and flipped him the bird.
'Oh, how brave. Truly. See if you're so flippant when I shoot your scissor sister's brain all over your face.'
'You sure do like the sound of your own voice, don't you?' Kurt spoke up. 'Are you going to shoot us or kill us with your endless speeches?
Blaine bit his lip hard, his eyes trained to his boyfriend's face. Don't, Kurt. Don't.
'You're nothing but a waste of a shell, anyway. You’re as good as dead. You can't have much blood in you left to waste over that cheap Prada rip-off.'
'It's authentic, actually,' Kurt said through gritted teeth. 'Unlike your character.’
'Are you trying to piss me off, Zoisite?' Jeremiah asked. ‘Keep trying, but attention seekers don’t do it for me. Do they, Blaine?’
'So, what?' Kurt spat. 'Your master plan is to shoot two of us and then we'll let you walk out?' He laughed. 'Would it be helpful if we stood in a line.'
'Well. That would be dumb, wouldn't it?' He grabbed Blaine tighter and proceeded to spin the two. 'Jeremiah is wearing the latest Fall fashions, see here that he is sporting a Smith and Wesson in his waist band, lovingly accessorised with fully loaded chamber.' Turning them back to face the room, he shot Karofsky a wink. 'Like that, did you?'
'Don't take this the wrong way,' Karofsky said. 'Or, you know, kill me, but you're not my type.'
'All the ladies like a bad boy, don't pretend to be any different.'
‘Huh. I’d rather have Karofsky.’
Blaine frowned. ‘Really?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kurt with a shrug, ‘I’ll take personal hygiene problems over unhinged and unfunny, I guess.’
‘Hey!’ snarled Karofsky.
‘Seriously, Blaine?’ sighed Jeremiah. ‘Him? Rebound, much?’
‘He likes his relationships without mass murder.’
'Okay, fine. You get the damn bullet!'
Finn jumped to his feet. 'No, I won't let you!'
'You and whose army, idiot?'
'No! You said I could choose!' Blaine gasped. 'Please! You said I could choose!' He struggled hard against Jeremiah, elbowing him in the chin. They grappled for a moment before Jeremiah flipped the gun and hit him hard in the face with the butt. Blaine collapsed to the floor, holding his nose as blood streamed down it.
'Fine,' said Jeremiah, breathing heavily. 'Choose. Now. If you don't, I'll kill every last one.'
Blaine sat up, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood from his nose. He cast his eyes around the room, his heart pounding. He met Karofsky's gaze: the jock regarded him with fierce eyes, though he swallowed nervously.
He's a bastard, but that's not enough. He glanced at Brittany, who waved to him shyly. I don't know her very well. That's a terrible reason, Blaine! Rachel, whom he had a soft spot for, didn't even look at him: she was fixated on Quinn. Finn? Kurt would never, ever forgive you. Mercedes? You adore Mercedes. Santana scary, but again... she's just a kid. We're all just kids. That left Kurt.
Never, ever Kurt.
He straightened up. 'I choose...'
A silence fell amongst them.
'This is so like American Idol,' whispered Brittany. 'But meaner than Simon.' She paused. 'Isn't that right, Blaine?'
Something in the tone of her voice made him turn to her. He caught her gaze, then followed the direction of her stare. He froze, fought to control the trembling in his voice. 'I choose...'
'Hurry up, Ash!'
'Me,' Blaine whispered.
'No, me!' said Kurt.
'Uh... no. Me!' said Finn, pushing Kurt back.
'Him!' said Karofsky.
'I'm Brittany!' said Brittany triumphantly.
'For fuck’s-- You really are the dumbest fucking person I've ever encountered,' said Jeremiah, turning to Brittany. 'Congratulations! You're the default winner, baby!'
As he did so, Blaine didn't hesitate. Blaine dived to the place she had been staring at and grabbed the gun that Sam had dropped.
'No!' Without thinking, Blaine rolled onto his back, raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
Jeremiah winced. They all cringed as they waited for the explosion of noise.
Nothing.
Jeremiah reached forward and kicked the gun out of Blaine's hand. 'Safety's on!' he said triumphantly. He raised his own gun, pointing it straight at Blaine's face. 'You know,' he said softly, 'Maybe I am a little pissed about that Gap thing.'
Blaine didn't close his eyes. He turned to his side, meeting Kurt's terrified gaze apologetically. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I tried.'
Kurt struggled to sit up, tears rolling freely down his face, as a shot rang out.
*
Blaine was determined that he should face this, his final day on the planet, with a dignity that would make Kurt proud, that would show Jeremiah how a real man acted. He would not cry out, he decided. He would not plead and beg.
He waited for the pain to blossom in his chest, for the light to explode and then ebb away leaving him only in the dark.
Neither came.
He opened his eyes, startled to see Kurt was looking past him now, his mouth gaping wide and eyes unblinking. Slowly, terror winding itself through his limbs, Blaine followed his gaze.
Jeremiah stared down at them, his face twisted in horror and shock. In his chest a single small hole, red and angry. The shotgun slipped from his fingers, clattering at the floor and with an undignified slump, he dropped to his knees and followed it.
'You--' Jeremiah asked, his bravado gone. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell forward onto his face. Hard. The crunch of bone made Blaine stick to his stomach and he pushed backwards, scrambling away.
'Baby,' Mercedes breathed. And Blaine turned to her, numbly. She smoothed at Sam's hair gently, a small smile on her lips. 'You did it.'
Blaine's stare moved down to Sam's hand, to the Colt that lay in it; fingers holding it like the lifeline it was.
'I--' Sam, spoke, no, gurgled, a tiny red bubble rising from his lips. 'Sorry,' he managed, barely heard despite the silence of the room. 'I'm so, so sorry.' A tear made its way down his cheek, dripping onto the floor, Mercedes wiped away its sibling before it landed.
'Shh,' she murmured. 'Shh. You’re going home. We all go home, in the end.‘With a final exhalation, the fingers released the gun.
Mercedes didn’t look up as they gathered around: she was humming Amazing Grace as if she and Sam were the only people in the world.
It wasn't the Brotherhood, Blaine thought, but sometimes you had to go out with the classics.
'Is he dead?' Rachel asked, still holding Quinn's hand, stroking along the knuckles. ‘Jeremiah?’
'They come back,' Finn said. 'They always come back.'
Blaine wanted to run to Kurt and hold him tight, touch every expanse of skin he could. To test that he was real. But he couldn’t not yet, because as ridiculous as Finn’s comment should be, it irked at him. He had to know. Crawling, he made his way towards the body, towards the river of red that was seeping towards him. Gingerly, he removed the Smith and Wesson from Jeremiah’s waistband and placed it at his side. He didn’t want to hold another gun again, but he also didn’t want it too far away.
The others took a joint intake of breath as he turned over the boy, and in the next moment, they released one of relief when he didn’t rise up like a pissed Michael Myers. Blaine touched a hand to his throat, waiting for a beat that never came, and looked into his staring eyes. Empty. He searched for obvious evil in them, as if evil had a look -- something wrong. All he saw was a cool blue.
‘He’s dead,’ Blaine confirmed, taking back his hand and rubbing it on his pants. Standing up, he moved quickly away. And then, as he’d wanted to do all day, he pulled Kurt into a crushing hug.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled when Kurt jerked away, his arm jarred in the embrace.
‘It’s fine,’ said Kurt, smiling wanly. ‘It’s honestly fine.’
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,' Santana snapped. 'I have to get out of this place, okay? I just--' She wiped at her face angrily. ‘Please!’
Finn picked Kurt up, ignoring his protests. ‘She’s right. Let’s go.’
‘Rachel,’ Blaine asked, staring down at her. He avoided looking at the dead girl at her side. ‘Let’s go outside.’
‘But-we shouldn’t leave her here,’ Rachel protested. ‘She’ll be by herself.’
'She's gone, Rachel,' Santana whispered. 'She’s not here anymore.' Santana knelt down, and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘You know that, deep down. You know it’s true.’
Rachel glared at her for a moment, at each one of them as if issuing a silent accusation. Then her features settled and she relented with a small nod, allowing Santana to lift her to feet. She clasped Rachel’s hand tight, taking Brittany’s with the other.
The sight broke Blaine’s heart. He had to touch Kurt again, convince himself that something remained beautiful in this world. Reaching out, he grabbed Kurt's hand that hung limply from Finn's arm, remembering the first time their palms had met on a Dalton staircase. The angle was just as awkward as it was then. But he wouldn't let go. Could never let go. Kurt gave a tiny squeeze back, the simple gesture made his heart soar.
He felt a knuckle brushing against his free hand, and then a large meaty heat encircled it. Karofsky blushed as Blaine looked at him. ‘Thanks for not, you know, choosing me.’ He considered, looking down at their link. 'This doesn't mean we are going steady.'
To his shock, Blaine felt his mouth curving into a smile and he nodded back. He glanced to his right, watching Rachel Berry's fingers fluttered uselessly against the air as they went, probably thinking of the slender ones that should be entwined with hers. ‘Goodbye,’ she whispered.
Hand in hand, they left the choir room.
Final Chapter
Author: mothergoddamn & rebness
Pairing/characters: Blaine/Kurt, Santana/Brittany, Rachel/Finn, Kurt/Karofsky (one-sided)
Warning: Character death. Extreme violence. Dark!Fic.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When the students of McKinley High are staring death in the face, who will live to tell the tale?
Previous:
1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8/ 9/ 10/ 11/ 12
Not Keen On Tuesdays, Either
Chapter 13
Blaine Anderson had faced some dark times in his life. He'd made a throwaway reference to what he'd gone through before Dalton when he first met Kurt. He didn't believe in dwelling on the past, but when that pale and fragile boy, the picture of tolerant misery, had asked him for advice, he'd opened up the first time in a long while.
Things were difficult, he'd admitted. He hadn't been strong enough to take the bullying. And after Sadie Hawkins, he'd finally gave in. He'd fled. And though Dalton had restored his confidence, made him grow into the person he knew he was meant to be, he admired Kurt's bravery. Kurt's strength of character had always awed him, always. And when his awe had grown into real, crushing love for the boy, he'd spent many a night mulling it over. What was it that drew him to Kurt?
There were many things, he realised. But chief amongst them was that Kurt embodied the uncertain boy he himself had once been, but with an inner strength that surpassed his own. He would emulate that strength, he decided. He would never again run away.
And now, two people were laying dead at his very feet and he'd do anything, anything to flee this room and take Kurt with him.
Is that cowardice? he wondered, I don't think so. What's cowardly about loving someone and wanting to keep them safe, after all?
'Okay,' said Jeremiah, cutting through his thoughts. ''This is no fun, anymore. Will you stop screaming?' he said to Rachel. She didn't. He raised his voice to drown out her sobs. 'So, Blaine. We need to decide who goes next. You can help me.' He pressed his face into Blaine's cheek. 'Right?'
'You-- you just---' Blaine felt humiliation crest in him as his anger and his fear spilt over into tears. 'I mean--you--'
'Did you go all Flowers for Algernon, Blaine? Is that why they put you in this school? You used to be irritatingly talkative on our little coffee dates.' He smirked. 'I could never get a word in.'
'Please don't do this,' he choked, struggling against Jeremiah's hold. 'You've done enough now!'
'Hmm.' Jeremiah nodded. 'Okay. I'm going to give you a break, how about I gave you back that control you like so much? I'm going to let you pick who gets to die.'
Karofsky blanched. 'Oh, fuck.'
'I'll do the allegory at your funeral,' said Brittany placatingly.
'No!' Kurt cried. 'You can't do that! That's not fair, you can't do that!'
'What's your problem?' Karofsky snapped. 'You're golden!'
'You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?' Jeremiah whispered into Blaine's ear. 'I see how you look at him -- how he's looking at you. Is he dying sweetly, Blaine? He looks so pale, wilting like a pretty flower.' He laughed harshly. 'Such a touching love story!'
Hatred for Jeremiah turned the blood in his veins to acid. He bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed a little. 'You kill him,' Blaine muttered, 'you kill him and I will kill you.'
'I don't need to,' said Jeremiah, smiling. 'He's doing fine all by himself.'
'If you're giving Blaine your master plan,' shouted Santana, 'you could at least speak a bit louder.'
'Oh, yes!' said Jeremiah. 'Decimation!' He turned to Karofsky. 'Right, since you volunteered, big guy. Give us a reason you should live.' He spoke close into his face again, turning his stomach as the wet of his lips touched his skin. 'He is rather delicious, isn't he, Blaine? I like them large and stupid.'
'Oh, for fuck's-' Santana hissed. 'Don't look so pleased about it, Dave!'
'You can totally do better,' said Brittany, nodded sagely.
'Well?' Jeremiah held up the shotgun and gave it a little wiggle. 'I'm waiting.'
Karofsky stared back, his eyes wide and panicked. 'Because-- because I'm gay! Like you!' Karofsky looked almost delighted. 'I mean, Pride and, like, bros and shit.' He gave a little fist pump and a solemn nod.
'Ten minutes ago you were a coathanger, and now you're telling the first gun toting fuck that asks you?' Santana arched a brow. 'If that's a free pass, throw me one. I'm gay, too.' She shrugged at Brittany's pleased grasp to her shoulder, but her finger trailed over Brittany's arm tenderly. A tiny gesture of love in a hurricane of hate.
'Me, too,' gasped Kurt. 'And Blaine.'
'I think I'm bi,' Brittany considered. 'Maybe if you just shoot some of me? Like my legs.'
'I had a dream about Justin Timberlake once,' Finn said miserably. 'If that counts?'
'Jesus!' Jeremiah sucked in his breath. 'What's in the water at the school?' He shook his head in disgust. 'If we could just bring the LGBT meeting to a close and get back to the matter at hand. No, that is not a free pass.' He looked back to Karofsky. 'Shoot again, stud.’
Karofsky clutched at his arm, looking small and lost. Liquid quickly filled his eyes, and wow, did that hurt. Despite everything, seeing Karofsky the brute tear up was almost Blaine's breaking point. His eyes strayed over to a weak Kurt. Almost.
'Because-- Because I deserve another chance.' Karofsky also glanced over at Kurt who stared back weakly. 'To make everything right. I messed up the first time. Please, Blaine!' Karofsky was shaking now. 'I want to be better, not just for everyone else, but for me! I want that chance! I haven’t lived yet, I haven’t atoned--’'
'I am so bored I can't feel my feet. Okay, you. Why should you live, blondie?'
Brittany chewed her lip. 'I don't want to die?'
'That's--' Jeremiah nodded, impressed. 'That's honest. I like it.' She smiled widely and he rolled his eyes. 'You, Good and Plenty. Let's have it.'
'Because you don't have the right to choose who lives and dies,' Mercedes said dully, still staring at Sam's body. 'You want to quote your crazy cult to me? I’ll quote my God to you: there is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbour?' She scowled. 'Stick that in your crazy pipe and smoke it.'
'First of all, fuck all your dumb religions, sweetheart. And second, I'm totally able to save and destroy. I'm going with destroy today. Right now, I am your God.'
Mercedes didn't reply. She continued to gaze at Sam. Blaine felt his heart breaking for her: she'd believed in Sam. She'd harboured a tender crush on him. And despite everything, despite the carnage he had wrought today, she still mourned his loss.
'Hey, Mercedes...' he murmured.
'Turn away,' she said quietly.
Blaine winced. Did she blame him? Did she believe that somehow Blaine had brought horror to McKinley by simply taking an interest in Jeremiah? But, no. Surely that was wrong? It had to be wrong, because the crushing guilt would kill him.
'It's not fair,' Finn whispered softly, to their side. 'It's not fair.'
Roughly, Jeremiah spun him around, turning to Finn. 'What? Why shouldn't I kill you? I didn't quite catch that?'
'Because I don't know!' Finn screamed. 'I don't know why I should live and someone else die, okay? I don't think like that! Maybe I shouldn't? I don't know- I don't--' he covered his face to his hands and Kurt wrapped his arm tight around him. From the floor, Rachel stared at him, her chin wobbling as she patted Quinn's hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.
'It's okay, Quinn,' she murmured. 'I promise we'll sort this out somehow.'
'Ri-ight. Put the shrill girl down as crazy, Blaine.' He stepped forward, moving Blaine with him. 'Any contenders yet? Oh, we haven't heard from La Dykita.'
Santana smiled sweetly, and flipped him the bird.
'Oh, how brave. Truly. See if you're so flippant when I shoot your scissor sister's brain all over your face.'
'You sure do like the sound of your own voice, don't you?' Kurt spoke up. 'Are you going to shoot us or kill us with your endless speeches?
Blaine bit his lip hard, his eyes trained to his boyfriend's face. Don't, Kurt. Don't.
'You're nothing but a waste of a shell, anyway. You’re as good as dead. You can't have much blood in you left to waste over that cheap Prada rip-off.'
'It's authentic, actually,' Kurt said through gritted teeth. 'Unlike your character.’
'Are you trying to piss me off, Zoisite?' Jeremiah asked. ‘Keep trying, but attention seekers don’t do it for me. Do they, Blaine?’
'So, what?' Kurt spat. 'Your master plan is to shoot two of us and then we'll let you walk out?' He laughed. 'Would it be helpful if we stood in a line.'
'Well. That would be dumb, wouldn't it?' He grabbed Blaine tighter and proceeded to spin the two. 'Jeremiah is wearing the latest Fall fashions, see here that he is sporting a Smith and Wesson in his waist band, lovingly accessorised with fully loaded chamber.' Turning them back to face the room, he shot Karofsky a wink. 'Like that, did you?'
'Don't take this the wrong way,' Karofsky said. 'Or, you know, kill me, but you're not my type.'
'All the ladies like a bad boy, don't pretend to be any different.'
‘Huh. I’d rather have Karofsky.’
Blaine frowned. ‘Really?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kurt with a shrug, ‘I’ll take personal hygiene problems over unhinged and unfunny, I guess.’
‘Hey!’ snarled Karofsky.
‘Seriously, Blaine?’ sighed Jeremiah. ‘Him? Rebound, much?’
‘He likes his relationships without mass murder.’
'Okay, fine. You get the damn bullet!'
Finn jumped to his feet. 'No, I won't let you!'
'You and whose army, idiot?'
'No! You said I could choose!' Blaine gasped. 'Please! You said I could choose!' He struggled hard against Jeremiah, elbowing him in the chin. They grappled for a moment before Jeremiah flipped the gun and hit him hard in the face with the butt. Blaine collapsed to the floor, holding his nose as blood streamed down it.
'Fine,' said Jeremiah, breathing heavily. 'Choose. Now. If you don't, I'll kill every last one.'
Blaine sat up, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood from his nose. He cast his eyes around the room, his heart pounding. He met Karofsky's gaze: the jock regarded him with fierce eyes, though he swallowed nervously.
He's a bastard, but that's not enough. He glanced at Brittany, who waved to him shyly. I don't know her very well. That's a terrible reason, Blaine! Rachel, whom he had a soft spot for, didn't even look at him: she was fixated on Quinn. Finn? Kurt would never, ever forgive you. Mercedes? You adore Mercedes. Santana scary, but again... she's just a kid. We're all just kids. That left Kurt.
Never, ever Kurt.
He straightened up. 'I choose...'
A silence fell amongst them.
'This is so like American Idol,' whispered Brittany. 'But meaner than Simon.' She paused. 'Isn't that right, Blaine?'
Something in the tone of her voice made him turn to her. He caught her gaze, then followed the direction of her stare. He froze, fought to control the trembling in his voice. 'I choose...'
'Hurry up, Ash!'
'Me,' Blaine whispered.
'No, me!' said Kurt.
'Uh... no. Me!' said Finn, pushing Kurt back.
'Him!' said Karofsky.
'I'm Brittany!' said Brittany triumphantly.
'For fuck’s-- You really are the dumbest fucking person I've ever encountered,' said Jeremiah, turning to Brittany. 'Congratulations! You're the default winner, baby!'
As he did so, Blaine didn't hesitate. Blaine dived to the place she had been staring at and grabbed the gun that Sam had dropped.
'No!' Without thinking, Blaine rolled onto his back, raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
Jeremiah winced. They all cringed as they waited for the explosion of noise.
Nothing.
Jeremiah reached forward and kicked the gun out of Blaine's hand. 'Safety's on!' he said triumphantly. He raised his own gun, pointing it straight at Blaine's face. 'You know,' he said softly, 'Maybe I am a little pissed about that Gap thing.'
Blaine didn't close his eyes. He turned to his side, meeting Kurt's terrified gaze apologetically. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I tried.'
Kurt struggled to sit up, tears rolling freely down his face, as a shot rang out.
*
Blaine was determined that he should face this, his final day on the planet, with a dignity that would make Kurt proud, that would show Jeremiah how a real man acted. He would not cry out, he decided. He would not plead and beg.
He waited for the pain to blossom in his chest, for the light to explode and then ebb away leaving him only in the dark.
Neither came.
He opened his eyes, startled to see Kurt was looking past him now, his mouth gaping wide and eyes unblinking. Slowly, terror winding itself through his limbs, Blaine followed his gaze.
Jeremiah stared down at them, his face twisted in horror and shock. In his chest a single small hole, red and angry. The shotgun slipped from his fingers, clattering at the floor and with an undignified slump, he dropped to his knees and followed it.
'You--' Jeremiah asked, his bravado gone. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell forward onto his face. Hard. The crunch of bone made Blaine stick to his stomach and he pushed backwards, scrambling away.
'Baby,' Mercedes breathed. And Blaine turned to her, numbly. She smoothed at Sam's hair gently, a small smile on her lips. 'You did it.'
Blaine's stare moved down to Sam's hand, to the Colt that lay in it; fingers holding it like the lifeline it was.
'I--' Sam, spoke, no, gurgled, a tiny red bubble rising from his lips. 'Sorry,' he managed, barely heard despite the silence of the room. 'I'm so, so sorry.' A tear made its way down his cheek, dripping onto the floor, Mercedes wiped away its sibling before it landed.
'Shh,' she murmured. 'Shh. You’re going home. We all go home, in the end.‘With a final exhalation, the fingers released the gun.
Mercedes didn’t look up as they gathered around: she was humming Amazing Grace as if she and Sam were the only people in the world.
It wasn't the Brotherhood, Blaine thought, but sometimes you had to go out with the classics.
'Is he dead?' Rachel asked, still holding Quinn's hand, stroking along the knuckles. ‘Jeremiah?’
'They come back,' Finn said. 'They always come back.'
Blaine wanted to run to Kurt and hold him tight, touch every expanse of skin he could. To test that he was real. But he couldn’t not yet, because as ridiculous as Finn’s comment should be, it irked at him. He had to know. Crawling, he made his way towards the body, towards the river of red that was seeping towards him. Gingerly, he removed the Smith and Wesson from Jeremiah’s waistband and placed it at his side. He didn’t want to hold another gun again, but he also didn’t want it too far away.
The others took a joint intake of breath as he turned over the boy, and in the next moment, they released one of relief when he didn’t rise up like a pissed Michael Myers. Blaine touched a hand to his throat, waiting for a beat that never came, and looked into his staring eyes. Empty. He searched for obvious evil in them, as if evil had a look -- something wrong. All he saw was a cool blue.
‘He’s dead,’ Blaine confirmed, taking back his hand and rubbing it on his pants. Standing up, he moved quickly away. And then, as he’d wanted to do all day, he pulled Kurt into a crushing hug.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled when Kurt jerked away, his arm jarred in the embrace.
‘It’s fine,’ said Kurt, smiling wanly. ‘It’s honestly fine.’
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,' Santana snapped. 'I have to get out of this place, okay? I just--' She wiped at her face angrily. ‘Please!’
Finn picked Kurt up, ignoring his protests. ‘She’s right. Let’s go.’
‘Rachel,’ Blaine asked, staring down at her. He avoided looking at the dead girl at her side. ‘Let’s go outside.’
‘But-we shouldn’t leave her here,’ Rachel protested. ‘She’ll be by herself.’
'She's gone, Rachel,' Santana whispered. 'She’s not here anymore.' Santana knelt down, and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘You know that, deep down. You know it’s true.’
Rachel glared at her for a moment, at each one of them as if issuing a silent accusation. Then her features settled and she relented with a small nod, allowing Santana to lift her to feet. She clasped Rachel’s hand tight, taking Brittany’s with the other.
The sight broke Blaine’s heart. He had to touch Kurt again, convince himself that something remained beautiful in this world. Reaching out, he grabbed Kurt's hand that hung limply from Finn's arm, remembering the first time their palms had met on a Dalton staircase. The angle was just as awkward as it was then. But he wouldn't let go. Could never let go. Kurt gave a tiny squeeze back, the simple gesture made his heart soar.
He felt a knuckle brushing against his free hand, and then a large meaty heat encircled it. Karofsky blushed as Blaine looked at him. ‘Thanks for not, you know, choosing me.’ He considered, looking down at their link. 'This doesn't mean we are going steady.'
To his shock, Blaine felt his mouth curving into a smile and he nodded back. He glanced to his right, watching Rachel Berry's fingers fluttered uselessly against the air as they went, probably thinking of the slender ones that should be entwined with hers. ‘Goodbye,’ she whispered.
Hand in hand, they left the choir room.
Final Chapter