This is an alternate ending to Unlock My Heart that takes place directly after the events of chapter 30. Any further chapters of UMH will not exist in this alternate ending. If you haven't read UMH, this won't make any sense. All of the science (fiction) here is from my brain, sad to say, so it all makes xcaellachx sense, if not common sense. I don't own Glee, Imagine Dragons, YouTube or Netflix.
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A letter, he remembers a letter with ugly words and sinister promises…
And you, sweet Angel, will be mine. Forever.
I am all yours as you are my Angel,
Your Sebastian
So much anger after that, anger that flowed like an opened fire hydrant, shoving him to the ground with its fury and force.
"Get your ass in the corner, arms behind your back and don't you dare move a muscle. Do not make a sound. Do not speak. I can no longer look at you!"
His body rushing to obey, crawling under the weight of the order. He remembers standing so straight and so still, his own body held prisoner under the words of rage. Tears and snot dripped down his face as he worked to hold back the vomit working its way up the back of his throat. He hears the monster storming back and forth, feels his hot, alcohol fueled breath as he stops to scream in his face.
"He knows your aroused face? You exposed your neck to him? You practically fucked him on the dance floor, you faithless whore!" He remembers the pain of his head jerking back under the force of a hand slapping his face.
After that he remembers glimpses of hell, being forced over the arm of a couch with his bare ass in the air. Words thrown at him like punches, the monster wondering if he is beaten enough if he will finally be obedient and loyal, would the monster finally be enough for him.
He remembers the pain. The hot, burning agony of something solid and heavy slammed into his flesh over and over again. Feeling the skin on his ass and the backs of his legs swell up red and painful. The gag order that miraculously lifted and his screams were finally able to be heard. That was when everything went black.
Kurt lay there, taking stock of his situation. He knew he was in a hospital and that alone scared him. Was the beating so bad that he'd needed to be hospitalized? Where was Blaine? What had happened to get him here?
The biggest question was wondering if it was safe to open his eyes. Logically he knew Blaine had been drunk and that he would eventually have to sober up. Logically he also knew that Blaine wasn't violent when sober. Well, fuck logic. Logic takes a back seat when your soul mate takes a wooden spoon and lights your ass and legs on fire.
Very gently, he flexed his butt muscles. Confused, he squeezed them tighter but again, he felt no pain. Taking a chance, he opened his eyes slowly and looked around. The empty room was dim, only a small light on behind his bed. He saw an IV, various monitors and a chair on either side of him. His dad's shop jacket was laid over the back of one and he let out a sigh of relief. No matter what, if his dad was there, he was safe. He would make sure that he didn't have to go back to Blaine's.
Still curious about the state of his backside, he shifted gingerly and was surprised again when there was no pain. It wasn't like the area was numb, like it was medicated. He could feel his skin rubbing on cotton – and ugh, the movement shifted the catheter that was apparently attached to his penis – it was like there was no injury there.
What the hell was going on? He may have been trapped by some hellish Dom order, but he had felt the pain, there was no way he could have gotten away without injury.
"Kurt? Buddy? Oh, thank god. We heard the change in your heart rate and just knew something had changed," his dad burst into the room, a tall man walking close behind him.
Kurt smiled weakly at the immense relief on his dad's face before squeaking as his dad pulled him up into a tight hug.
"Dad, I'm okay," Kurt croaked, then frowned. Why did his voice sound so rusty?
"Mr. Hummel, Burt, I know we're glad Kurt is awake, but he still needs to be able to breathe," the man said.
Kurt assumed he was a doctor with the whole long white coat and stethoscope look he was rocking. It seemed like he and his dad knew each other, but Kurt didn't remember a doctor as a family friend. The man looked at the different monitors and made some notes in a file, nodding to himself.
Burt sniffed loudly and coughed before gently helping Kurt lay back against the pillow. Kurt saw the tears in his dad's eyes and frowned, reaching up to wipe his cheek. Shocked at finding his arms were too weak to lift all the way, he sat there as, instead, his dad's fingers traced over his own features.
"Damn, son, it is so good to see those eyes of yours open. Good lookin' eyes, right doc? I told you they were," Burt bragged, his voice gruff. He took the chair next to Kurt, his hand staying wrapped around his son's.
"You did indeed, Burt. Many times," the man said with a good natured grin. "Kurt, I feel like I already know you, but since we've never met, I'll introduce myself. My name is Dr. Gilbert. I've been treating you here during the length of your stay. Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but let me start off with saying you are okay. You have no injuries, just a lot of weakness," he said, taking the seat across from Burt.
Kurt's confusion was mounting, but he had to take a moment to acknowledge the gorgeous doctor in front of him. Thank god Blaine wasn't in the room or he'd be in trouble because this guy was divine. He had light colored eyes, it was dim in the room, but they didn't look blue, but they were gorgeous and piercing in their intensity. His black wavy hair was tousled in a way Kurt usually didn't approve of, but couldn't help thinking was sexy. Dr. Gilbert was tall and trim with an athletic build. If Kurt had a type, this guy would be it. Kurt may have been assigned Blaine by the 'Fates' or whatever, but it didn't mean he was the perfect physical specimen in Kurt's eyes. Blaine was gorgeous, yes, but this man? Beautiful. Mouthwatering.
Okay, onto more pressing things, like what wasn't pressing on him.
"Why doesn't my butt hurt?" he asked abruptly, his voice still sounding dry.
Burt, in the middle of reaching for a cup of water, looked at his son, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, helping Kurt take a sip.
Kurt hummed with delight at the cold water and sipped slowly until the water was gone.
"I'm talking about my ass. Why doesn't it hurt? It should after what I went through," Kurt said, sounding much clearer.
"Are you referring to your fall?" Burt asked.
"He wouldn't remember the fall, Burt. That's what put him out," Dr. Gilbert said and Burt nodded in agreement.
Kurt shook his head, only getting more confused. "Okay, that isn't getting us anywhere, let's try this; where is Blaine? Did he get arrested?" Kurt had to know. He didn't want Blaine anywhere near him at the moment.
Burt and Dr. Gilbert exchanged a look and then looked back at Kurt.
Burt squeezed his son's hand. "Kurt, who is Blaine?"
Kurt's eyes grew wide before he turned on a full bitch glare. "What do you mean, who is Blaine? You know, short, gel-helmet guy, wields a mean bamboo spoon?" Kurt couldn't help his tone getting sharp and nasty. What the hell was going on? What kinds of games was his dad playing? "My soul mate?"
"Your soul mate? I thought you said he just had his birthday?" Dr. Gilbert asked Burt.
"I did, uh, he did. Kurt, son, you don't have a soul mate yet. You just turned sixteen two weeks ago," Burt said helplessly.
Kurt sat up slowly, confusion, anger and fear filling him up. "What the hell is going on here? I'm almost 18, Dad. I'm graduating in a few months. How the hell can I be sixteen years old?"
Dr. Gilbert stood up. "Okay, Kurt, we're going to figure this out, I promise you. I need you to lay back down, your heart rate is going up too fast and you are still incredibly weak to have it be that high. You haven't been awake long enough to handle this kind of stress."
Kurt lay back down and Dr. Gilbert stared into his eyes and helped him through some deep breathing exercises. A few minutes later, he'd calmed down considerably and was ready to hear whatever crazy story was coming next.
"Kurt, I'm going to ask you a few questions and just answer as best you can, okay?" the doctor asked him.
Kurt answered questions like his address, phone number, the president. When Kurt answered the question of what day it was, the doctor and his dad gasped.
"What?" Kurt asked, having a feeling they'd finally figured out what was going on.
"Bud, that day is nearly two years in the future," his dad announced. Burt looked at the doctor. "Doc, you're gonna have to tell me why you're suddenly bouncing around over there."
Dr. Gilbert settled himself and took a deep breath, raising a hand in apology. "I'm sorry, truly. I've heard of this happening, but I've never been witness to it. Kurt, from the sounds of it, when you were unconscious, you were still living life. Science has proven that the human brain can have a dream of what seems like hours in length but in reality only lasting as little as thirty seconds. From the sounds of it, it appears like you lived nearly two years in the span of nearly two weeks."
"I was asleep for two weeks?" Kurt said with a gasp.
Burt glared at the doctor. "I wanted to ease you into the idea of it, but yeah. You've been in a coma for a couple days short of two weeks. I'm sorry, Kurt."
Kurt was … he didn't know what he was. In shock, yes. Astonished, freaked out, a little irritated that he remembered more than a year of education that was all in his head. What the hell? What kind of brain made up school work?
"Are you sure? I remember everything so vividly. School work, Dalton, prom, college applications, wearing the gloves, all of it. But none of it was real?" Kurt looked between the two men who seemed to be as shocked as he was. Burt shook his head and squeezed his hand. "What happened? I mean, how did I go into a coma?"
"I don't know what you remember of the morning of your sixteenth birthday, but I had hollered to you asking if you were awake and had gotten your Mark. You said yes and I told you that if…"
"If it was sore, to rub some aloe into it," Kurt said with a smile. "I remember. I said I would shower and come eat breakfast with you. Did you know I hadn't even looked at my Mark yet? I knew it was there, but I was so arrogant, so sure of who I was that I didn't even bother to look. It was only once I was in the shower that I saw it. So arrogant," his voice faded to a whisper.
Burt carefully seated himself next to his distressed son and took him in his arms. There was no safer place for his boy than in his daddy's arms. "Hey, you know who and what you are and arrogant isn't one of 'em. I knew you'd gone into the shower, I heard the water was on and that was when I heard the crash," Burt said.
Kurt turned sharply to look at him. "Crash?"
"Yeah. I ran to your room as fast as these old legs could carry me and banged on the door. When you didn't respond, I threw the old football shoulder into the door and busted it open. All I could see was your arm just, just layin' there over the tub," Burt said, his voice quavering and he cursed as his eyes filled with tears as he remembered how helpless he felt seeing his boy splayed out in that tub, unconscious with blood coming from the back of his head.
"Dad, hey, come on, Dad, I'm okay. Look at me, see? I'm here and I'm fine. I'm so sorry. I couldn't even imagine what that must have been like for you," Kurt said, his heart breaking at the obvious pain his father was in. They were a team of two now without Mom. Something happened to one of them and it was the end of their world. He pushed his head against his dad's strong chest and the two drew comfort from the other for a moment.
"From what your friend, Mercedes, and Burt figured out, it looked like you dropped your conditioner somehow and slipped in it and hit your head against the faucet. You hit hard enough to make you slip into a coma but not bad enough to do permanent damage. We did extensive scans and testing on your brain and you are perfectly healthy, no lasting effects. We'll run some final scans but I guarantee they aren't necessary. Your dad got you the help you needed and stopped the bleeding before anything more life threatening could have happened," Dr. Gilbert said, his tone admiring.
Kurt could tell the men had become friends over the past couple weeks. Regardless of his condition, there was no way a doctor spent this much time with a patient unless there was some friendship going on. He grinned up at his dad. "My hero."
He giggled when his dad turned red and blathered on about Kurt's hard head and damn hair products. Still, Kurt could tell his dad was pleased to know he'd saved him.
"Well, gentlemen, it is my professional opinion that we get Kurt some food and maybe in the morning we can get you into the shower, how does that sound?" Dr. Gilbert asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Heavenly," Kurt groaned. He went to lift his arms so he could stretch and found he could lift them slightly higher. "When am I going to get my strength back?"
"It'll take a few days," the doctor told him, coming over to him. He gently took Kurt's hand and raised his arm up. "Give me some resistance," he encouraged and hummed as Kurt pushed against him. "Yeah, you'll feel stronger by the hour and we'll start you with physical therapy and occupational therapy tomorrow just to make sure you stay on track."
"You off for the night, Doc?" Burt asked him, standing to get Kurt more water.
"I am. I'm gonna go get some rest before my gig," he said with an excited grin.
"Gig?" Kurt asked.
"Doc here is in a band. Imagine Dragons?" Burt asked him.
"He wishes!" Kurt said with a laugh.
"Indeed I do. Nope, our humble little Indie band is Ideal Misfits. You should look us up, we're on YouTube," the doctor bragged with a wink.
"I will. Oh my god, Dad, do you have my phone? I need to call Mercedes," Kurt said urgently.
"There's my boy," Burt said. His tone was his famous 'I'm the tired father' tone, but his eyes were glowing and he looked ecstatic. "I'll go get it from the car." He paused at the door, his face going serious. He looked down and then up at Kurt and the doctor. "Kurt..."
"I'll stay with him until you get back, Burt. Try to keep in mind what we've talked about over the past week. Now that he's awake, he will be fine. He needs to recover his strength but other than that, he is good as new. The only sleeping he will be doing is the regular kind. We'll be keeping tabs on him, so try not to worry. I know saying that is asinine to a parent, but we won't let anything happen to him," Dr. Gilbert assured.
Burt stared at him, nodded to Kurt and walked out.
Dr. Gilbert sat back down.
"I can tell you've been there for him through this and I just wanted to thank you for that, Dr. Gilbert. We're pretty much all we have in the world. I can't even think about what would have happened to him if," Kurt shuddered.
"Well, let's not worry about 'if'. And please, call me Elliot. Now, while he's out, do you have any questions for me?" the doctor asked kindly. Kurt could see now that his eyes were a spectacular shade of gray. Not the crappy fifty shades either. Something actually special and memorable.
Kurt thought for a moment. "Not that I can think of. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the last year and a half didn't happen. I'm not about to graduate high school. Holy shit, I'm a virgin again!" he said, feeing excited about it for some reason. "Oh shit. I'm sorry," he moaned, turning bright red.
Elliot chuckled. "No worries. So, in your dream, you found your soul mate?"
"Yeah, I did. Do you think it's the same person in real life?" Kurt asked hesitantly, unsure how he would handle that information.
"I'm not sure. I don't know how the Fates deal with that kind of thing. Do you want it to be?" the doctor asked curiously.
"Honestly?" Kurt asked then shook his head. "He was wonderful in the beginning, well at times. But there were punishments for ridiculous things, the college issue, the Dom orders. It was all just too much, you know? I can't help feeling relieved that he isn't my Dom."
"Of course he isn't your Dom, Kurt," Elliot said with a strange expression.
"What do you mean, how do you know?" Kurt asked.
"Oh crap, you never did look, did you?" the doctor wondered aloud. "Look at your Mark, Kurt."
Kurt looked down at his arm, feeling suddenly dizzy.
"He couldn't be your Dom because you are a Dom," Elliot said.
The skeleton key seemed to stare up at him as he traced the length of it and his blank Soul Band. No name was there. He was free. He was a Dom and he was free. There would be no more rules, chastisements, Dom orders.
"No more 'good boy'," Kurt said with a weak laugh, laying his head back as tears began streaming down his face.
"What do you mean by that? Here," Elliot said, pressing a tissue into his hand.
"Thanks. Um, he loved to call me his good boy. I hated it. I mean I despised it. I showed him through our bond how much I hated it, how demeaning it was, how it did nothing to lift me up or make me feel good but he just. Kept. Doing it," Kurt gritted out. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But no more."
"My soul mate, Declan, he has never been a fan of 'good boy' either. He is a couple of years older than me so it felt weird to even think of him like that. I find that just telling him how proud I am of him or how happy he makes me works just fine," Elliot said with a fond smile.
"How long have you known him?" Kurt asked. It was nice to know the good doctor was happy in his match.
"Since high school. It was because of him that I became a doctor. He was almost killed in a mechanic shop and there was this doctor who just wouldn't give up on putting him back together. He did it. It took a lot of surgeries and long time, but my Declan is whole and happy and living a normal life," Elliot said, sounding like he was still grateful.
"That is an amazing story. And now, here you are, saving lives. I bet he is proud of you, too, isn't he?" Kurt grinned, trying not to tear up. He was glad the doctor's soul mate made it out whole.
"He tells me that now and then," he smiled softly then cleared his throat and looked at Kurt. "I'm not a psychiatrist, Kurt, but I would suggest that when your fine motor skills return that you start writing down what you remember from your dream. Because it was so real to you, it would be good to have it there so if you have questions someone else can confirm or deny it for you. It may also help you deal with leftover emotions. Does that sound like an idea to you?"
"A good idea, yeah, thanks. Who knows, maybe I'll turn it into a book someday," Kurt said with a chuckle.
"I'd read it," Elliot laughed. He checked Kurt's monitors one more time when Burt came back with a tray of food and Kurt's phone.
Elliot told them he would see them in the morning and Burt settled in to help Kurt eat his food.
The night was spent in talking as Kurt told his father all about his alternate life. Burt assured him that if he had presented as a sub that there was no way in hell that Burt would have let some teenage Dom prick come in and take Kurt away from him. Kurt laughed and then cried for the Kurt who had suffered. That soon turned to sobs as he shared about Sebastian, the kidnapping, the college manipulations, the letter and subsequent beating. Burt was ready to hunt down anyone with the name Blaine Anderson and use his shotgun to blow their balls off.
"Wait a second," Burt said, holding up his hand. "Blaine Anderson and Sebastian who?"
"Smythe. Why?" Kurt said, looking at his dad who was now wiping at his face tiredly and looking mortified.
"Son, dammit, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." Burt looked truly ashamed as he walked over to the small pullout cot and picked up Kurt's laptop. Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but his dad hushed him and proceeded to boot up the computer, still looking like a kicked puppy.
Burt opened Netflix and pulled up a soap opera. "It's a, uh, new series you had in your list. I, uh, figured it would be a good way for us to connect when you woke up."
Kurt just stared at him. His father had been watching Subways, Subcultures, and Submissives? The new 'reality' soap opera? "Really Dad?"
"Shut up. The plots are really addictive. Now, take a look at these guys," Burt said and hit 'play'.
Kurt's stomach lurched and he started shaking. There on the screen, yelling at each other and gesturing dramatically were Blaine Anderson and Sebastian Smythe. The words they were saying weren't registering with Kurt, but the voices were the same. The bodies, faces, even down to the style of dress.
"Please turn it off," he whispered and his dad closed the laptop. "They are exactly the same. How is this possible?"
"I don't know kiddo. Maybe you saw some preview or something for the show and it stuck in your subconscious? Who knows," Burt said shrugging. When he saw Kurt break into sobs again, he gathered him into his arms and rocked him. How many times had he helped heal his little man by holding him and rocking him until the hurt went away? Through whisperings and broken words, Burt realized his son was mostly feeling relief. This Dom asshole wasn't going to magically show up on their doorstop and try to take him away. Kurt got to start over and write his own future.
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Three years later, Kurt was making his way to the dance floor of his favorite club. He'd had a good week at Parsons and decided he would celebrate. His fashion degree was coming along well and Kurt couldn't be happier with his life in New York.
It had amazed him over the years how his dream life and real life had crossed paths. During a trip to the Lima Bean soon after he'd been released from the hospital, he'd run into Jeff and Nick. Though he was shaking and in shock, he hadn't been able to resist his favorite blonde and had boldly introduced himself. They'd struck up a new friendship that was still going strong.
His book "Dream A Little Dream" had hit number five on the New York Times Bestseller list the month after he'd graduated and he had almost keeled over with astonished bliss. Thanks to its success, his college education was paid for and he'd been able to send his dad and Carole on a lovely Hawaiian honeymoon. He had recently been approached about a movie project, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to take things that far. He never knew though, life had thrown so many different things at him, he wouldn't say no.
As for his own soul mate? He was in no hurry. Kurt had a feeling he would be fine to never meet him. He didn't know if he would be able to handle himself if he ever pulled things that Blaine had pulled on him. He had the fear that he would be so paranoid that he wouldn't be able to enjoy his relationship. Instead, he went out with friends, danced with anyone who asked, and pretty much kept his hands to himself. Okay, maybe he'd had a couple of hookups with people. Friends with great benefits, that sort of thing. It was never serious, though, and he was okay with that.
"You are stunning. Would you care to dance?" The deep voice drew his eyes up and up. The owner was easily six and a half feet tall and dark as coffee with a bald head and muscles as big as Kurt himself. Kurt gasped upon meeting the eyes of this sensual giant. They were a stunning shade of light green that made Kurt's knees turn weak.
"I'd love to and I'm going to have to disagree. You are the stunning one," Kurt said boldly. His body was responding in a way he wasn't used to. "I'm Kurt."
"Max. We'll have to agree to disagree. But I need to tell you, I am incredibly attracted to you." Kurt was glad to note he wasn't the only one feeling bold. "I've been watching you since you got here and I finally got up the guts to talk to you," he said, his deep voice rumbling right into Kurt's pants. He held out his hand to Kurt.
Kurt hummed low, everything about this man setting him on fire. He took his hand and they both jumped from the jolt. Their eyes immediately met. Kurt knew there was no way this guy was a submissive. They couldn't be soul mates.
"What the hell is going on?" Max demanded. "You're a Dom."
"So are you," Kurt pointed out. "But you felt that?"
"Down to my toes. How is this possible?" Max asked, taking Kurt's hand and they both moaned at the delicious sensation of their skin touching.
"I don't know. I can't do this, though. This just doesn't happen. Reality says Doms are soul mates with subs, not with other Doms," Kurt said, unable to deny tears were welling up as he thought of not having this person in his life. How was this happening so instantly?
His chin was lifted. Max's beautiful green eyes smiled down into his eyes. "Do you feel this?" he asked, rubbing his long fingers down Kurt's cheek and onto his neck. His body was on fire, filled with a hunger beyond mere lust.
"I do," Kurt whispered with a shudder of need.
"Then I say we make a new reality," Max said and leaned down to claim his lips.
I've done it before, Kurt thought with a happy smile as he kissed him back.
They met Tristan, a sweet submissive, a year later. That day they each got two names on their Soul Bond. The first soul mate triad. But that is another story to tell.
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I have a couple more alternate endings in the works. First up, however, is a supernatural druid!Kurt story that I hope is as epic as it sounds in my head. Hope to see you all soon!