There for You: Act Four - Get Me Out
Series Premise: There for You is a 4 & 1 fic series with the premise of “4 times Blaine was there for Kurt and 1 time Kurt was there for Blaine.” It was written over the summer hiatus between seasons 2 and 3 before most of the spoilers were leaked, thus leading to some facts in my series getting jossed. Such is life!
Word Count: 1300
Rating: PG
Summary:Kurt doesn't feel safe at McKinley anymore, but he doesn't know how he can possibly leave.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
“My dad knows.”
“…isn’t that a goo-“
“The Glee guys got into a fight with Karofsky."
“….”
"I have to get out of here."
-------
Blaine stared at the phone in his hand, his mind numb and his free hand clenched into a fist. Kurt wasn't safe anymore. He hadn't been safe for a long time. This incident just brought him one step closer to being seriously hurt in some way.
Blaine stood, dropping his phone into the pocket of his blazer and tugging on his sleeves.
There had to be something he could do to get Kurt out of this nightmare.
No one had tried to save him until it had been too late, and he would not sit by and watch the same fate try to take Kurt.
Blaine strode from the room, banging the door shut behind him as he walked down the hall.
----
Carole nearly fell out of her chair when the doorbell rang. She and Finn had been in the new house for several days, but she still wasn't accustomed to all the new sounds.
She shoved the footrest back into the recliner and stood, crossing the room and peering out the window to see who had come over.
A young man she didn't recognize stood on the porch, a folder held tight against his chest. She quickly unlocked the door, tugging it open and pushing the screen door out.
"Hello," she said cautiously. "Can I help you?" Perhaps his car broke down, and he needs to make a call...she mused.
"Is this the...Hummel residence?" he asked, raising his head to meet her gaze.
"...Yes," Carole said slowly. "And you are?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself right away." He extended a hand. "My name is Blaine. I'm a...friend...of Kurt's."
Carole glanced at his hand, then back to his face. "You don't go to McKinley, do you?"
Blaine shook his head. Carole smiled a little, taking his hand in hers. "I'm Carole Hudson," she said. "Why don't you come inside so we can talk?"
Blaine hesitated, glancing over his shoulder before looking back at Carole. "The boys will be gone for another hour or so," she said. "Finn and Kurt have rehearsal, and I'm sure Burt is at the shop." She held the door open wider. "Come in, and I'll make some coffee."
15 minutes later, Blaine was seated at the kitchen table, his coat draped over a chair with Carole seated across from him. Each of them held a steaming mug in their hands. The folder Blaine had been carrying lay on the table between them.
"So, Blaine," Carole murmured. "Why don't you tell me what brings you here?"
Blaine stared down at his mug, fingers tapping against the side.
"I met Kurt a few weeks ago," Blaine began. "He had come to...check out the competition, so to speak."
"Oh, are you in show choir as well?" Carole asked, her eyes lighting up.
"Yes. I'm a member of Dalton Academy's show choir. And that's part of the reason I came over today."
Carole tilted her head, taking a sip of coffee as she waited for Blaine to continue.
Blaine reached forward, flipping the folder open and and tugging one of the papers out. He slid it over to Carole.
She studied the flyer carefully, skimming over each page. She folded it closed and stared hard at Blaine. "What has Kurt told you about McKinley?" she asked.
Blaine inhaled deeply before taking another sip of his coffee. He swallowed hard before speaking.
"I know he isn't happy there," Blaine said. "He hasn't told me too much, but I know he's being bullied, and not just because he's in glee club."
"I don't want to assume..." Carole began.
"Yes," Blaine said before she could finish. "I'm gay." He smiled sadly. "I was bullied, too," he explained. "And that's why I'm at Dalton now. The kids went too far, and I had no choice but to leave."
Blaine sighed, pulling another set of papers from the folder. "Dalton has a strictly-enforced no-bullying policy. Any student found mistreating another student is suspended immediately. Unless evidence to the contrary is presented, the student is formally expelled shortly thereafter."
Carole’s eyes widened. She’d never heard of a policy that literally offered no forgiveness. “Kurt knows about this,” Blaine continued. “But I’m sure he didn’t mention it to you or his father because Dalton’s tuition is...rather steep.” He pulled the last piece of paper from the folder. “There are grants and scholarships available, and if...” he paused for a moment, obviously searching for words. “If extenuating circumstances are present, exceptions can be made.” Blaine pulled his hands back, folding them in his lap. “I want this to be an option for Kurt,” Blaine said. “But I knew trying to convince him wouldn’t be easy, and I honestly wasn’t sure I could do it.”
“He’s stubborn, just like his father,” Carole said, smiling as she shook her head. She rose from the table, and Blaine did the same, grabbing his coat from the chair and slinging it over his shoulders. “Thank you,” Carole said, reaching for Blaine’s hands. “I’ll talk to Burt about this so we can suggest it to Kurt if need be.”
The two of them walked back to the front door. As Blaine pulled it open, he turned to Carole once more. “Oh, and Ms. Hudson--”
“Carole, dear.”
“Carole, if you could...avoid mentioning my visit, if possible? I don’t want Kurt to feel like I didn’t think he could handle this on his own. All of the information I gave you is available online...”
“Of course, Blaine. And the next time I see you, we can pretend we’ve never met,” she said, eyes twinkling.
Blaine sighed, his smile reaching his eyes for a moment.
“Thank you.”
-----------
A young man slowly made his way down the the pristine hallway, chin held high and his messenger bag clenched tight in his hands. He strode purposefully, looking neither left nor right as he walked to his homeroom. Students glanced at him, eyes curious as they whispered to one another.
“Who is he?”
“A transfer in the middle of the semester?”
“Where did he come from?”
The boy ignored the looks and the softly-spoken words; this was nothing new to him. He paused just before the hallway intersected with another, reaching into his pocket for the folded note with directions to his homeroom. His brow furrowed as he tried to recall where he was.
“Hi!” A voice said brightly, startling him so badly that he dropped the paper to the floor. Two hands reached down, one golden-brown from the sun, the other pale as porcelain. The boys stood from their crouched positions, their eyes meeting at last.
“Welcome to Dalton,” the young man said, handing the paper back. “You looked a bit lost, so how about I show you to your first class?” He grabbed the pale boy’s hand, tugging him along the hallway.
A few minutes later, they’d reached the classroom. Their hands fell to their sides.
“Meet me for lunch?” the helpful student asked. “My treat, of course.”
The other boy shook his head. “I’ll eat lunch with you, but I’ll buy my own, thank you.”
“Still so independent, I see,” he said, eyes twinkling.
“Surely you expected no less,” the other retorted, turning to enter the classroom, head still held high.
“No. No, I certainly didn’t,” he whispered, watching as his friend took his seat in the classroom, glancing nervously about the room before relaxing slightly into his chair. He stood in the hall for a few moments, watching the tense shoulders gradually lower as the boy relaxed.
He’s finally going to be safe.