I loved you all along
Hello. :) So I spent all of yesterday writing this, just sort of letting my hands write whatever came into my brain. Obviously I then went over it and fixed any errors but this is pretty much just my angsty fluffy little heart going into overdrive.
This is part one. This was sort of too long to be a one shot and too short to be a chapter story. So this is part one of three. I hope you enjoy it. If you like Kurt and Blaine angst, fluff, Furt brotherly love, some Kurtcedes, a shit load of Klaine and even a little bit of Blaine/Sam bromance, then enjoy.
T FOR SWEARING AND HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE.
I don't own Glee, but thank you RIB for letting me borrow them.
Blaine saw Kurt stalking away from him. He'd been avoiding him for days now, and Blaine wouldn't stand for it. He'd be damned if he hid his feelings from Kurt any longer, feelings that were so strong and real and true he thought he might burst if he held them in any longer.
"Kurt! KURT! Kurt, stop now. Stop and LISTEN TO ME!" Blaine yelled as Kurt walked away, his stature so tight with tension he looked like he might snap. "KURT HUMMEL YOU STOP AND LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW, FOR ONCE IN YOUR STUBBORN LITTLE EXISTENCE YOU WILL DO WHAT I SAY!" Blaine screamed, running to catch up with Kurt. He turned on his heel to face Blaine, and Blaine was shocked to see the tears falling down his face. His eyes were like a film reel showing nothing but sadness and heartbreak.
"No, Blaine." It only took two words for Kurt to fall off the edge he'd been so hopelessly clinging on to. He dropped to his knees as his tears over took him, his body shaking violently, hands trembling and covering his face. He looked like he wanted to disappear in to himself, and watching him like that Blaine actually thought his heart was breaking in his chest, cracking through the middle, because he'd release Kurt from this agony if it killed him.
Blaine dropped to the ground beside Kurt and went to put his arms around him. But Kurt shrugged them off so violently Blaine was pushed backwards. He grunted and sat up again, next to Kurt but not actually touching him this time. "Kurt." Blaine whispered desperately. "I don't understand." Kurt glanced up through tear soaked eyelashes.
"I need you." Kurt whispered, dropping his gaze to the tarmac beneath them. Above them, the sky was dark grey, not quite black, not quite purple. A roll of thunder rumbled softly as Blaine's heart stopped breaking. Funny, how three words from Kurt could send his spirit soaring when it had previously been so low he wondered if it would ever lift.
"I need you too, Kurt." Blaine replied.
"No! No you don't need me. Blaine you're ok. You love football and you're gorgeous and you aren't flamboyant so you can easily fit in. But then you choose to spend your time with me and you get a slushie in the face and a shove in the lockers and I just can't bear it, Blaine. You don't even go to McKinley! You just come and visit me and you get hurt. I can't bear it anymore!" Kurt sobbed bitterly. "My life is miserable. It's always been miserable. No reason why both of us should have to suffer when I'll be suffering regardless."
"Kurt you just said it yourself! I choose to hang out with you! Of course I do. Because I..." Blaine fell over the next words, but he gathered every ounce of courage in his body and tried again. "I love you. I'm miserable without you."
"Don't you understand how hard you're making this, Blaine?" Kurt begged, but there was a light in his eyes that Blaine hadn't seen before.
"I'm not making anything hard, Kurt! I love you. I love you so much that seeing you like this is actually making my heart hurt. I love you so much that Karofsky could beat me to a pulp and I wouldn't care, so long as your beautiful face was still beside me when I woke up. I love you so much that sometimes I don't know how one person can feel that much. I love you so much that when my father is yelling me out yet again for being gay, that I don't care anymore, because I think of you and I realise that every single battle that I have to fight to have the same rights as everyone else is WORTH IT. Because you'll be there at the end of the day with your beautiful eyes and your wonderful soul and your perfect hair." Blaine was breathing hard by the end of the sentence. He was vaguely aware of the light droplets of rain that had begun to plummet from the dark sky.
Kurt was silent, his arms still curled around his shaking body.
"I love you too." He whispered eventually. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you, when you told me your name and held my hand and ran down the Dalton hall with me and sung teenage dream to me. I loved you when for the first time in months you made me feel hope. I've loved you every single second of every day since then." Kurt took a deep breath and had the expression of someone who was about to rip out their own heart. "That's why I have to let you go."
Blaine felt like he was falling. Like the world was whizzing past him at super high speed, like he was about to vomit all over the ground they were both crouched on. He was also aware of the light droplets of rain turning into sheets of rain, and he realised they were both trembling.
"No." Blaine whispered faintly, his voice cracking. "No. Don't, Kurt. Please." His voice was strangled. "Never let me go. I don't want to be free. I don't want an easy life, not if you're not in it."
"I have to." Kurt replied, and he pulled himself up to his feet, his soaking wet body shaking so badly he wondered if he'd faint. He went to touch Blaine lightly on the shoulder, but Blaine flinched away. Kurt walked away slowly, sobbing painfully.
"Fine. Walk away from me, Kurt Hummel, because you're so afraid of being in love." Blaine shouted, crying hopelessly. Kurt clutched his chest, it hurt so much. Hurting Blaine, hurting himself...He walked until he couldn't hear Blaine's broken sobs anymore, all he could hear was the rain and his own heart and sobs.
He walked and walked, and he was in such a state it took him an hour to make it home. He'd only just got his key in the lock when the door was thrown open by Finn.
"Dude, I saw you coming up the path. You're drenched." Finn pulled his limp, lifeless brother into the house and shut the door. He was shivering so hard under Finn's gentle giant touch that Finn thought he might snap. Suddenly the room spun and he grabbed onto Finn's warm soft arm to keep balance. "It's ok, dude. I got you. We're gonna sort you out, ok?"
Kurt wanted to say that nothing Finn could do could sort out the agonizing ache in his chest, but he suddenly realised how tired and cold and wet through he was. So he let Finn look after him. Finn took his brother upstairs, removed all his damp clothes barr his underwear, then ran a hot bath. He helped Kurt into it, and left him there whilst he threw the clothes into the washer. Then he ran into Kurt's room and into his drawers and pulled out what he knew were Kurt's favourite grey pyjamas. He went back into the bathroom. Kurt was submerged to his head in the warm water, a tear dribbling down his face. Finn crouched by the bath.
"Hey dude." He said awkwardly.
Kurt opened his eyes, his mouth wobbling. "Hey." he whispered.
"I...Kurt what happened?" Finn asked gently.
"I had to make a difficult decision." Kurt replied, his voice numb.
"Is it...Blaine?" Kurt's heart ached at the mention of his name.
"Yes. And everything else." Kurt murmured brokenly. "I'm so miserable, Finn. I just want to be happy." Finn unconsciously stroked his brother's damp hair.
"I want you to be happy, too. So so much, Kurt." Finn replied. "You're so cool and open and amazing and smart."
Kurt tried to smile but it felt like the muscles had stopped working, might in fact, never work again.
"I like Blaine, you know. I think he might be good for you, dude." Finn said gently, carefully. Kurt was silent for a few minutes. Then he replied.
"Finn have you ever loved someone so much you want to protect them from every tiny thing that might hurt them even just a little bit?"
"Of course. I love my mom. And I'm always worried Rachel's motor mouth is gonna get her in trouble with someone and they'll hurt her. But, Kurt dude? That's the thing about love. Constant worrying. I mean I'm not some expert, I've messed up a lot of things a lot of times, I know that. But I know that if you love someone you have to deal with those things. There is always gonna be bad things in the world, you of all people know how unfair life is. But you can't let that stop you loving Blaine..." Finn said all this staring into Kurt's sea blue eyes.
"Nothing could ever stop me loving Blaine." Kurt replied thickly. "But Finn...he'll get hurt. I can't bear it. It's why I keep all the bullying a secret from dad. I have to protect them."
"No, Kurt, no. That's half your problem. You carry the whole god damn world on your shoulders, you try to handle everything by yourself, you protect the people you love by using yourself as a human shield, taking every bullet that's aimed at them. You can't keep doing that, Kurt. It's exhausting you, and making you miserable." Finn paused. "You could be happy, you know. I...you should have let on how bad the bullying was getting. Of course I should have noticed. That's gonna change. I'm not letting anyone hurt you at school anymore."
"You don't have to do that, Finn." Kurt mumbled, but his shoulders sagged in relief.
"Yes, I do and I will. Why don't you...you and Blaine?" Finn asked cautiously.
"I can't, Finn. Not right now." Kurt's voice broke, the tone of it was almost begging and tears began to track their way down his cheeks again.
"Ok, dude. But just know what I think. And that I'm here." Finn replied, taking Kurt's wet hand in his. Kurt didn't say anything, but he squeezed back tightly. "Now you need to get out of this bath, it's getting freezing." Kurt nodded numbly, pulling himself up and stepping out of bath. He was still shivering a little, and gratefully accepted the towel Finn handed him. He pulled it round himself and walked through to his room. When he'd changed into the pyjamas Finn had laid out with him, he shut off his lights, yanked his curtains shut and huddled under his duvet cover, wrapping it hard around his trembling body. He closed his eyes tight to stop anymore tears escaping and stayed that way for a while. Then he opened them and picked up his phone where he'd left it on the bedside table earlier.
Missed calls: Blaine (16)
Thank you for calling voicemail. You have seven new messages. First message, sent today at four seventeen pm: Kurt? Kurt it's me. It's Blaine. Please don't give up on me, don't give up on us. I need to talk to you so please ca-
Message deleted. To hear the next message press two.
Message two. Sent today at four thirty nine pm: Please pick up, I need to talk to you. I wa-
Message deleted. To hear the next message press two.
Message three. Sent today at five ten pm: I love you Kurt. Never forget that I love you. I'll love you until the day I die, whether you love me back or not. I love you. Always.
Message saved. To hear the next message press two. To delete all other messages press three.
All other messages deleted.
Kurt threw his phone back on the table, then he curled himself up into a ball, wrapping the duvet hard and tight around his shuddering body, now shaking with tears more than cold, and sobbed for a long, long time, until he eventually fell into only the most broken and fitful of sleeps.
X
Blaine had no idea how long he sat curled up in the rain for. All he knew is that when he eventually moved he was sodden and his heart was breaking in his chest. He called Kurt several times, left a couple of messages and texted him endlessly. But it was pointless. Kurt wasn't listening and he didn't want him. Blaine was alone, and he had never felt more lonely in his entire life.
Eventually he got himself together enough to make his way to his car and drive home. The rain was relentless and he drove slowly. When he pulled in he saw his dad's car in the drive. He sighed heavily. Just the person he wanted to see.
He pulled himself out of the car and squelched his way miserably up the driveway. Shoving his key in the door he let himself in.
"Hello?" He called, wondering if everyone else could hear how broken and defeated his voice was, or if it was just him.
"Hi Blaine," He heard his dad's voice, and he followed the sound. "What happened to you?" He asked when he saw his drowned rat of a son walk into the kitchen.
"It's raining." Blaine murmured, unwilling to antagonise his father but at the same time not wanting to enter into a conversation with him.
"I can see that, Blaine." His father snapped, then sighed. "Why do you always manage to get yourself in these states? I could swear it's because of your condition..."
Blaine gritted his teeth and counted to ten. "It's not a condition, dad." He spat for the thousandth time.
"Don't speak to me with that tongue, kid or you'll be out on your ear." Lesley Anderson almost squared up to his son as he said this. He was only an inch or two taller than Blaine, but he had serious width on the boy.
"You're threatening me?" Blaine laughed hollowly. His ordeal that day had given him a strange sort of confidence. Nothing on earth could make him feel worse, nothing could hurt more than what Kurt had done to him earlier, and Kurt was meant to care for him, which was more than his father had done in seventeen years.
"Absolutely. I'm sick of you coming home with bruises and a bad attitude. It's not my fault you're..." Lesley trailed off, as if unable to speak the last word.
Blaine couldn't speak for several seconds. "Funnily enough it's not my fault I'm gay either, dad." He saw his father flinch. "And you can say the word. It's not contagious. Also, I don't relish coming home battered and bruised either. And you know for so long I've blamed myself for that too. K-" Blaine choked on the word. "Kurt always told me it wasn't my fault, it was their fault. And I never believed him. But now I do. Now I know. You've made me feel bad because of other people's intolerance of me, of something I can't change and wouldn't want to anyway."
"Blaine Anderson shut your fucking mouth you piece of shit before I shut it for you!" His father roared, his hands balled into fists. Blaine flinched but stood his ground.
"Don't you love me, dad? Not at all? Because if you did you'd love all of me, every little bit. Gay or straight, short or tall..." Blaine didn't get to finish.
"Stop saying that word you filthy little bastard!" Lesley yelled, his face a dangerous shade of purple.
"I AM GAY. AND I AM IN LOVE WITH A BOY." Blaine yelled back, and before he knew what was happening, his father had screamed "ENOUGH!" And he felt a stinging blast of pain as his father slapped him round the face. The slap was hard, definitely enough to bruise, and his dad's nails had caught unpleasantly on his cheek. He held his face, looking at his dad, his hazel eyes filling with tears. He swallowed them back. He wouldn't show his father his pain, not now and not ever.
"You bitch slapped me? Really? Really, dad. Nice." Blaine spat, reaching for the confidence he knew was inside.
"You piece of shit get out of my house. You get up there." He grabbed Blaine the shirt and threw him towards the stairs with such violence that Blaine smacked his head off the bannister. Everything went fuzzy for several seconds as he fought to hold on to consciousness. "You have fifteen minutes to pack and if you are up there a second longer I will drag you down and throw you out my fucking self. You hear me?"
"I hear you!" Blaine screamed as he staggered up the stairs. He ran into his room and glanced around. He picked up his suitcase and began throwing clothes into it, willy nilly. T shirts, cardigans, sweaters, jeans, a pair of converse, some loafers, pyjamas, a few photos. He paused for a second as he saw one of him and Kurt. He bit his lip to stop himself sobbing and threw it in the case.
"TEN MINUTES!" His father screamed. He glanced around, grabbing his laptop, phone charger, as much as he could find in the short time. eventually he slammed shut his case and zipped it up. He glanced in the mirror. His face was already harshly bruised, the bruise mockingly hand shaped. There was also a cut above his eyebrow where he'd hit the bannister. His brain still felt foggy. His clothes were still wet through from the rain. He had no time to change so just threw his favourite pea coat into the suitcase.
"TIME'S UP!" His father voice and thundering footsteps up the stairs. He dragged his case out of his room and met his father in the hallway. "Right, get out you good for nothing useless little shit!" He grabbed Blaine by his damp collar and before Blaine knew what was happening he had thrown him down the stairs. Blaine yelped out as his body bruised, and he hit the bottom step in agony. Then he felt a horrific weight as his case was thrown on top of him.
"Get up!" His father's voice. And even though his whole body was shaking and in total agony, he wrestled himself to his feet and dragged his case after him. He went to grab his keys off the bowl on the side but was stopped by his father wrenching them out of his hand, bending his wrist back and causing him to howl in pain yet again.
"No you fucking don't. I paid for that car out of my hard earned money and you are not taking it with you. If you want a ride somewhere why don't you get that little fag you love so much to pick you up on the side of the road. And don't you even think of trying to go back to Dalton, I should never have paid for you to go there for so long. Consider yourself withdrawn." Lesley opened the door and Blaine winced as he saw it was still chucking it down with rain.
However not wanting to spend a second more time in his father's company he dragged his suitcase out into the downpour. The second he was outside he heard the door slam behind him. He walked down the driveway and continued walking until he was at the very end of his road, where there was a bus shelter that he could hide in.
His second soaking of the day left him frozen and shivering in the corner of the bus stop. He opened up his suitcase with shaking, pale fingers and opened his wallet. He had around one hundred and twenty dollars in cash, and a little more again in his bank account, though if that would still be there, he doubted it. He was sure the first thing his father would do would be to take away any money he knew Blaine had.
So. Just over one hundred dollars. All Blaine had in life was a hundred dollars, a suitcase of clothes, shattered memories and a broken heart. He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't go back to Dalton, he couldn't go home...He'd never been to David's house so he didn't want to go there. He couldn't go to Wes', because they were out of town at Wes' grandfather's funeral. Though he knew the McKinley kids he didn't know any of them well enough to turn up on their doorstep soaking wet with a suitcase asking to stay for a few days.
His heart thumped as he thought about Kurt.
He pulled out his phone and rang Kurt again. It went to voicemail.
"Kurt? Kurt it's me. I'm...m-my." He shivered. "I've been kicked out. I'm n-not expecting you to d-do anything for me. I j-just...have nothing and no one. I love you. P-please call me back if you get this." He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket before staring out at the finally depleting rain shower. He couldn't remember ever feeling so miserable, so without hope. So lonely, so cold, so...he had nothing. Nothing. But he could live with nothing, could be happy with nothing if only he had Kurt. Kurt who had always been there for him, who he needed now so badly his chest ached.
But it was nearly ten pm? He couldn't turn up on their doorstep. What would Burt think? And Finn? Blaine shivered. He was fast realising his only other option was sleeping rough, unless he blew his dollars on a motel for the night. He saw a bus approaching the stop. It was going to Lima. Making a split second decision, Blaine got on it.
If people thought it was strange that a boy with madly curly hair, damp clothes and a bruised face with a suitcase getting on a bus was strange, they didn't show it. He sat down at the back of the bus, his suitcase beside him, leaning his head against the window. The bus ride took almost an hour, and when he got off he felt the loss radiating in his chest. He knew the way to Kurt's house from here, but something, perhaps it was pride, or fear or something kept him from going there. He walked instead to where his iphone map app was telling him the Central Lima motel was. He walked there slowly, limping a little. His whole body ached and burned and stung with the bruises he knew were under his clothes. He felt like an old man, with aches and pains plaguing his body. He walked slowly, every step paining him, towards the dank, dirty reception of the motel.
"Hi, can I help?" The young girl with her earphones in chewing gum didn't seem to notice Blaine's dishevelled state, or if she did she didn't care.
"How much is a single room for one night, please?" Blaine whispered, realising how croaky his voice was and how much taking enough breaths to talk hurt his ribs.
"That'd be twenty nine dollars tonight." He paused.
"Sure. I'll take it." He handed her the cash and pocketed his the cent change she gave him.
"You're in 109. That's first floor, just along the hall corner room. Breakfast is served at seven until ten." Blaine nodded his thanks and dragged his suitcase along the floor, reminding himself mentally to eat as much breakfast as he could. It frightened him not knowing where his next meal might be coming from.
Blaine let himself into the room. It was ok, a single bed, a bedside table, a small tv, a desk with a hairdryer chained in, and a miniature bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower stall. He dumped his case and sat down in the bed, wincing as he did so. He began to think about his father, about his hand hard and fast on his cheek, his vicious expression as he threw his son down the stairs, the weight of his case smacking his back.
Suddenly the room seemed stifling, the air almost choking him. He actually began to struggle for breath, clutching his chest frantically with his hands. What was happening to him? He grabbed his key card and let himself out, gasping as he grabbed the wooden hand rail and breathed in the soft, cool air. Air was never purer than in Lima after a big storm, and his breathing slowly began to improve. He gripped the wooden rail tighter still and laid his head in his hands, whimpering only slightly as he bruised cheek came into contact with his shaking hands.
He stood there for several minutes, not moving, before he heard the voice next to him.
"Dude?"
He snapped his head up, and looked straight into the kind, concerned face of Sam Evans, the blonde big lipped boy from the McKinley party. Sam frowned as he took in Blaine's appearance; his bruised cheek, messed up hair, damp torn clothes, the way Blaine's arm was curled around his rib cage as if in pain.
"Blaine, isn't it?" Sam was calm as he laid a gentle hand on Blaine's sleeve. Blaine nodded, his breath still coming in short, sharp bursts. "Hey it's ok. It's cool. Calm down. Breathe deeply." He stood with Blaine until his breathing was back to normal. "OK? You're good." Sam said gently. Then he looked in to Blaine's totally broken hazel eyes. "How about you let me come in and help you out. And you can explain to me what's up, ok?"
Blaine nodded, too tired to do anything but. Sam opened up his door for him and helped him in. Then he sat Blaine down on the bed. He helped him out of his cardigan and hissed as he saw Blaine's forearms, the top his chest and the bottom of his stomach. Every part was patterned with ugly bruises. It was no use. This needed a first aid kit. He knew there was one in his room, one his mom had brought.
"I just need to go and get something." Sam said gently to Blaine, but as he turned to leave Blaine cried out and grabbed Sam's arm.
"Please don't leave me." Blaine whispered.
"Woah, woah. Calm down Blaine, it's ok. I promise I'm coming straight back. I swear to you. But you need bruise cream and stuff. I'll only be a second, dude." Blaine let go of his arm and raced down the hallway to his room. He grabbed the kit and returned to Blaine, as promised, seconds later.
"You need to take your shirt off. Do you need help?" Sam bit his lip as Blaine began to undo the buttons. His hands were still shaking, but he did it quickly enough. The trouble came when he tried to ease it over his shoulders. He yelped at the pain. Sam helped it off him and tried to ignore his turning stomach as he eyed the bruises covering Blaine's torso and back. He also noticed Blaine's wrist looked a little swollen. He rubbed the bruises with cream and pulled a bandage around Blaine's bad wrist. "Is there anything on your legs, Blaine?"
Blaine eased his trousers off, and Sam saw a couple of bruises dotting them. He helped Blaine put cream on them, then he rummaged in his case and produced a pair of pyjamas. Blaine shuffled to the bathroom and returned in them a few minutes later. Then he sat down on the bed as he did so, wincing. Meanwhile Sam got up, filled a glass with water and popped a couple of pills out of a packet from the first aid kit.
"Tylenol." He told Blaine as he put them in his hand, along with the water. They'll make it hurt a little less. It might be worth you going to see the doctor tomorrow, too. Those are some pretty bad bruises." Blaine nodded gratefully and took the tablets, before placing the water on the side, and glancing at Sam.
"Thank you, Sam." Blaine said croakily. "I...What are you doing here?"
"I live here." Sam glanced down at his hands. "My dad lost his job...and then our house. So here we are."
Blaine felt a pang. Part of it was sadness for Sam, who was obviously so kind and had been through a load of crap, but part of it was, in a strange way jealousy. Sam and his family stuck together no matter what their situation, they loved each other and even though they lived here they were together and they accepted each other.
"But this isn't about me." Sam said gently, patting Blaine's hand. "This is about you. What happened to you, Blaine?"
"I got kicked out, my dad beat me up, I lost my education, I lost my home and Kurt broke my heart. Not the best day of my life, I'll admit." Blaine shut his eyes, but several tears escape and ran down his cheeks. "I have nothing. I want Kurt." He whispered, his lip wobbling.
"Why did you come here, dude? You should have gone to Kurt. He'll look after you. He loves you, Blaine!" Sam replied.
"Today he told me he didn't want me." Blaine swallowed hard. "I wanted to go to his...but..."
"Blaine if he knew what had happened to you he'd be in bits, he'd be searching town for you, he'd...dude do you have any concept of how much Kurt loves you? He'd walk on fire for you." Sam said, exasperated. "I don't know why he did what he did today, but he's Kurt. He'll have his reasons. He'd never ever leave you like this though."
"I can't just go round and ask to stay at his house, that's not realistic..." Blaine muttered, staring at the ground.
"And this is? A thirty dollar a night motel? How much money do you have Blaine? You need to ask for help. There's nothing wrong with that. Trust me, I know." Sam shook his head, exasperated.
"I...Sam I'm gay. That's all. That's all I ever did to make my dad kick me out. Why? He's my dad, he's meant to love me. And Kurt? He's meant to love me too, but he left me sobbing in the rain at the side of the road. Why will no one ever treat me well? Am I a bad person?" Blaine began to sob. Jesus, how many times would he have to cry today? He felt exhausted.
"You did nothing, ok? You are great, really great. You and Kurt...you're so perfect together and you'll be ok. I promise. But you need to see him. Tomorrow. He'll be going insane. Have you called him?"
"Yes. I left a message." Blaine replied.
"Well he's probably sleeping. You should try and get some sleep too, you look exhausted." Blaine pulled a face. "I know it's hard." Sam laid a gentle hand on Blaine's arm, "but try ok? I'd stay but my dad's night shift starts soon and I need to watch my little brother and sister. I'll see you in the morning, for sure. Just come to me if you need anything at all."
"Thank you, Sam. You're...so kind. I can't explain how much I needed someone to be kind to me today." Blaine attempted to smile but didn't quite manage it.
"No problem, Blaine. Any time." Sam waved gently and left the room. Blaine lay back and stared at the dirty motel ceiling, wrapping his arms around himself helplessly. He knew his ribs and body ached from being pushed down the stairs, but it was his heart that was troubling him the most. He'd never had such a yearning for anyone in his life, but right now all he wanted was Kurt Hummel with his arms around him. He wanted him as his boyfriend, but he'd happily live as his best friend forever and ever. He had a flash vision of life without Kurt in it at all, and it made him feel hollow and empty inside. He knew life would only get harder for him now he had no home, no school and no family. But he'd be able to hold on to himself, to remember who he was, to keep Blaine, as long as he had Kurt beside him. Kurt, to tether him to the ground like a string on a balloon. Kurt to stop him feeling like he did right now.
Because right now he felt like a lonely, empty shell of a person. He sat up and looked in the mirror. The pale, trembling boy with the curly hair and the hand shaped bruise? He didn't know who he was anymore. The boy so repulsive apparently even his own parents didn't want him.
He wanted to stop thinking. He put his phone on the bedside table, and slipped under the covers, curling up into a ball, knees pulled up to his chest, his slim arms around them. He stayed that way until he fell into a fitful sleep, where he was plagued with strange nightmares. Kurt pushing him down the stairs, Sam slapping him in the face...and his father just laughing, laughing, laughing...