So this is my first attempt at Klaine fanfic, although I've been quite invested in them for a while. I got the idea for this while dozing off in the car on vacation, and had to write it. It just sort of took off from there.
It's uh...kind of sad.
Warnings: physical abuse (discussed not shown)
Blaine fell onto the curb, energy gone after running ten blocks from the nearest bus stop. The knees of his jeans were torn from running through bushes and tripping and falling over himself in his desperation. His curly hair was plastered to his forehead, his face stained with tears, his eyes rimmed in red. He could barely breathe as he continued to sob.
He curled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, lowered his head, and waited.
Kurt pushed his hair out of his face as he drove down his street after a long summer Saturday in his dad's garage. He could not wait to get in the shower to get the grease and oil out of his skin. Carole and his dad had dinner plans while Finn was at Puck's for the twelfth time that month, leaving Kurt with the house to himself.
Something caught his eye, just outside the range of his headlights. He strained to see it in the dim twilight; he thought he saw a mop of frizzy curls and the flash of tattered Converse. No, it couldn't be…what would he be doing on the –
He slammed on the brakes just as he turned into the driveway.
On the curb sat Blaine, shoulders hunched, shaking and lurching forward slightly, breath coming in short gasps. His body was curled so small he looked like a child.
Kurt's stomach dropped as he shoved the gearshift to park and flew out of the car, only to stop as he stood a few feet from his boyfriend. The sight of such pain inflicted on this innocent, beautiful soul just broke his heart.
He swallowed and slowly walked forward.
"B-Blaine, honey?" He spoke softly as he bent down, afraid to touch the curly-haired boy. "Is…did something…?" Kurt tentatively reached a hand towards Blaine's back as the distraught boy finally lifted his head. Kurt gasped.
The right side of Blaine's face was purpling and swollen. Dried blood was smeared across his chin and jaw. Tears flowed slowly down his blotchy face as he struggled to control his breathing.
Kurt instantly – but carefully – pulled Blaine to his chest and stroked his matted hair as the sobs renewed and wracked his small frame.
"Shh, honey, I'm here…It's ok, shh," Kurt whispered to try to comfort his boyfriend, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades and placing a hand gingerly on the back of his curly head. Blaine fisted Kurt's grimy work shirt as he soaked Kurt's neck and shoulder.
Eventually Blaine's eyes seemed to run dry as his breathing calmed to the occasional hiccup. Kurt continued to rub his back, waiting for Blaine to do something…until he realized the night was pitch black and his car was haphazardly parked.
"Sweetheart," he asked softly as he kissed Blaine's temple, "would you like to go inside? Take a shower, or have something to eat…?"
Blaine just nodded once with a hiccup so Kurt lifted him to his feet and guided him towards the front door. Kurt jammed his key in the lock as quickly as he could; although it was late June in Lima the night was chilly and Blaine looked absolutely horrid.
Kurt was so worried; Blaine was never this quiet, this upset for so long. And that bruise! What on earth could have happened? Whoever did this, so help me, I will hunt them down…
"Blaine, honey, would you like something to eat or drink?" He pulled away a bit to see the boy's bruised face. Blaine only looked up at his boyfriend though his dark lashes and nudged his shoulder, but Kurt knew him well enough to understand what he wanted, what would make him feel better.
He led Blaine to the living room and grabbed a blanket. Kissing the top of Blaine's head, Kurt wrapped the soft throw over the still-hunched shoulders and set to work. He was the only one who really knew how to prepare Blaine's favorite: Swiss hot chocolate with a small scoop of instant coffee, two marshmallows, and a snickerdoodle cookie. An exorbitant amount of sugar, but it always did the trick. Kurt was in no place to question it now.
He spun around at every hiccup, every sharp breath, every whimper from the boy in the next room.
As the water simmered Kurt wrote his parents a note briefly explaining why his car wasn't parked and tacked it on the front door.
Finally, Kurt set two large mugs and a plate of cookies on the table. He sat next to Blaine – he'd gotten a strangled whine when he made to sit on the opposite sofa. He caressed Blaine's back as the sniffling boy reached for a cookie, dunked it in his mug and took a bite. Kurt felt just an ounce of tension drain from Blaine's body. The boy and his sugar, he thought fondly.
Kurt waited for Blaine to drink half of his cocoa-coffee and eat a few cookies before he opened his mouth to speak.
"Well, I –" He took a stuttering breath; Kurt put his free hand on Blaine's knee, instantly calming him further. "I w-went to talk to my m-mom about li-living with you in ph-Philadelphia next year for college…" His voice trailed off as he dragged his hands down his face and shakily reached for his mug to take a sip.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, Kurt thought in a panic, trying to keep his exterior calm and comforting as he replaced Blaine's mug on the table. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but waited for his boyfriend to collect himself.
Blaine inhaled again. "I…I told her I filled out the p-paperwork to d-dorm with you next year. My mom s–seemed all right, I guess, though didn't fu-fully approve – I saw it in h–her eyes. My d–dad though… I've barely spoken to him all y-year, just 'pass the s-salt' and 'h-here's the p-paper' a few times. But he…he overheard m-me talking to mom when he g-got home from work, and he –" Blaine took in a sharp ragged breath and his hand flew up to lightly cup his jaw, wincing.
Kurt's brow furrowed with worry as he leaned forward to look into Blaine's eyes. "…Honey? What…what did he…?"
"He stormed in-into the kitchen, and –" he hiccupped, "– and started screaming. The blood rushed t-to his f-face. He ke-kept pointing at me, c-calling me…awful things, Kurt, s-saying such revolting things about you, about us… I va-vaguely heard my mom crying as she tried to quiet him and b-begged him to stop. But I –
I…I just lost it."
He sighed, then continued with an ounce more conviction in his voice. "I fought for us, Kurt. I shouted b-back, saying I di-didn't need him, his money, his approval. That I – I'm happy, and I know what I w-want to do want to – to live. That I – I love you, and nothing he does or says…that not even his obsessive, absurd h-hate of his own flesh and b-blood could do anything to ch-change my mind, could change me…"
Blaine took a few deep breaths, then stuffed another cookie in his mouth and gulped down the rest of his cocoa. Kurt nudged the second mug towards him, and he looked up gratefully before downing a third of it.
"By then, his face was purple, screwed up in the ugliest, most hateful expression I've ever seen. And he…he swung back an-and s-slapped me…so hard I spun halfway around and lost my balance. I – I didn't even feel my–myself hit the floor…ju-just the stinging where his hand hit me, and – and the final blow t-to destroy our already broken relationship. My mother…she just watched and s-sobbed. I loo-looked up at him, and at her, and I just – I ran. I ran to the bus station. I ran here. I….I've been crying for hours, Kurt. I just…I – it hurts, Kurt. It hurts that he…and – and she just – I – I can't – it –" His now-hysterical rambling speech cut off with a fresh round of gut-wrenching sobs.
Kurt couldn't speak. He had no idea what to say. He just pulled Blaine onto his lap and held him while he cried. The dark–haired boy curled up into a ball and buried his face in the brunette's chest, clutching his shirt like his life depended on it…it certainly felt like it did.
They stayed like that until both their shirts were soaked through. Kurt carefully lifted Blaine in his arms – he felt so small and frail; has he even been eating? – and carried him upstairs to his bedroom. Blaine just barely registered the movement, only noticing that Kurt had moved his hands to clasp around his neck, that he wasn't curled as tightly, and he felt a bit of cool air on his legs as the blanket billowed around him. His weeping continued quietly into his boyfriend's chest, ear pressed to Kurt's aching heart.
Distantly Blaine realized Kurt had placed him on the bed and removed their sodden clothes in favor of soft sweatpants and old Dalton hoodies. He just knew he was now curled up with his head and shoulders on Kurt's chest, knees pressed firmly to Kurt's thigh. The brunette stroked the other's curly hair as the hysterics slowly subsided from sheer exhaustion; Blaine's mind couldn't bear the pain in his heart any longer, and his face began to throb.
I wish that I could tell you something to take it all away. Sometimes I wish I could save you…
Once Kurt was sure Blaine was asleep, be allowed himself to doze as well. Neither was free of nightmares, but their touching bodies anchored them to each other and chased away the darkness.
A/N: And voila! Please let me know what you thought.
Last italicized line are lyrics from Save You, by Simple Plan.