Hello everyone. I hope you enjoy this fanfic. It's going to be pretty A/U, but hopefully everyone will stay in character.
Let's imagine now that Kurt is seventeen, and in junior year at McKinley, while Blaine is a Junior and still at Dalton. It mostly won't follow the series, but I hope you will still enjoy it.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are always very much appreciated :')
Kurt Hummel dashed through the grimy corridors of McKinley High, a hand over his mouth, even paler than unusual. Skidding around corners, he finally reached the restrooms, yanking the rusty handle and rushing in. He dived into a cubicle, ignoring the disgusting state they were in, and had just enough time to lock the door, before vomiting violently and painfully into the toilet.
This was the third time that day.
When it was finally over, Kurt collapsed to the floor, for once not caring about his clothes, and leaned weakly against the wall. It hurt, his throat burned with the hot sick as he checked his shirt for puke. He was so dizzy…He was ill, he shouldn't have come to school today, he had some sort of bug…
No.
In his heart, way deep down, in a place he'd shut off in fear-Kurt knew perfectly well why he was sick.
But every time he thought about it-cold fingers of terror closed around his heart, choking him.
Dizzily, he pressed his forehead onto the cold wall, trying to get his head to stop spinning. He felt awful. He hoped Rachel and the rest wouldn't be too worried about him, having yet again had to dash from class to vomit. After the second time, Rachel had tried to insist he went home, but that would mean questions from Dad and Carole…he couldn't be dealing with that. Also-he knew they had the power to make him crumble…
A lot had changed in the past few weeks.
At first, he'd ignored it, thinking nothing of it-but he knew something had altered. Naïvely, he'd kept dismissing it-but he knew. He knew…but surely he couldn't be sure? He hadn't seen any proof, in black and white? He leaned back, trying to breathe normally…This was silly. He could find out for sure any time. The idea terrified him even more-but at least then he would know for sure…and then…what?
Kurt was scared. He was more scared than he'd ever been in his life.
"You okay in there, buddy?"
A voice sounded from outside the cubicle, a pair of white trainers visible under the stall. The strange voice sounded friendly.
"Y-Yeah!" Kurt tried desperately to make his voice sound normal.
"Are you sure, man?" The voice sounded genuinely concerned. "Want me to get the nurse?"
"No! No," Kurt tried his best to sound off-hand-but it just came out more panicked. "No, I'm fine. Thank you," The voice didn't sound convinced. Kurt heard a disbelieving grunt-but the stranger got the message. "Okay, if you're sure…Hope you feel better, dude,"
There were heavy footsteps-and he was gone.
Kurt felt guilty-the guy had seemed nice-but he needed to be alone. He needed to be alone to do this.
So he was doing it?
Before he could change his mind, he plunged a hand into his leather school bag, until he found the small, rectangular cardboard box, covered with blue writing, that had been tormenting him for the past week. He'd bought it at the weekend, but had been to frightened to use it. But now-he realised his hand were trembling as he read the instructions, finding himself reading the same sentence over and over.
Finally, before he could stop himself-he ripped it open and used it in a rush, barely breathing.
That was it.
It was done now.
Proof was coming.
No way back now.
Two minutes, it would take. Kurt wasn't sure he could wait that long. Standing there, he pocketed the test and turned around, unlocking the cubicle door and stepping out, turning on the grubby tap to wash his hands and splash his face. As he rinsed out his mouth to get rid of the foul taste-he looked up. Staring back at him in the mirror was a ghostly white teenager, terrified in designer clothes, literally quaking in his shoes.
This couldn't have happened.
No way.
Not to him.
Not to him.
Please.
Clutching the leather strap of his bag like a life-support, he stepped shakily out into the corridor for some air, feeling that forbidding strip of plastic pressing into his thigh. Part of him didn't want to look at it when the time came. He wasn't sure he could take being told, in black and white, that-
But he knew. In his heart, he knew.
Groaning, he slapped a hand to his forehead. Why had he been so stupid?
"Oh Kurt!" Blaine's voice was somewhere between a gasp, a moan, and a cry as Kurt pushed him quite hard down onto the bed, before lying down on his chest and kissing his neck teasingly. "I love you," the countertenor whispered seductively, lips brushing his boyfriend's ear as he kissed every inch he could reach. The thick bedcover beneath them was soft and warm, the fire crackled pleasantly, the lights dimmed. It was perfect. And there was a franticness in the air-a need. Kurt's kisses became harder, faster, desperate. He needed Blaine-now.
Blaine made another indistinguishable moan as Kurt's soft lips reached as low as his collar bone. The countertenor's slim, pale fingers itched toward the buttons of Blaine's shirt. He found the buckle of the belt on his jeans, and was consumed with the desire to remove them. Going back to Blaine's face, he kissed him passionately and heatedly on the lips for almost a full minute….he was impatient. He needed Blaine now. Right now.
He'd never felt like this before. When he'd joked with Blaine about wildly ripping each other's clothes off-he'd never imagined it would be like this. So intense. This burning want, this need he could not refuse. It almost ached-and there was only one person that could satisfy.
"Blaine…" he whispered into his chest. "I need you…take me…"
Blaine was all too happy to oblige. As they kissed, again and again, each time more than the last, shirts were tugged at, buttons undone. Blaine kissed him hungrily…
"Wait!"
Annoyed, Kurt looked up from where he had been carefully unzipping Blaine's skinny jeans. "What?"
"I…I haven't got any…you know. Protection,"
Kurt's mind whirred abruptly back to Earth with a crash. What?
"Do you?"
Slowly, Kurt shook his head.
Blaine groaned-really groaned. "I'm so sorry, baby, I should have thought…" He sounded utterly disappointed.
What? No…
He looked at Blaine.
He looked at Blaine's devoted eyes. Devoted completely to him. Kurt knew he would do anything he asked him to…
Surely…
Surely one time wouldn't hurt?
Just one time?
"Sorry, baby…" Blaine apologised again, looking downhearted. "I-oh!"
Before he could finish his sentence-Kurt was passionately kissing him again, reaching downward.
"Kurt?" Blaine asked warily, in disbelief. "What are you-"
"If you have AIDS," Kurt hissed into his neck. "now is a good time to tell me,"
"What-oh!"
Blaine was powerless to argue with him now.
And afterwards, as he lay in Blaine's arms-Kurt thought nothing of it. Despite all the warnings; and all the extra warnings in his case, what could happen to him-that Blaine didn't know about, that no one but he and his father knew about…somehow, none of it seemed relevant.
It wouldn't happen to them.
That was two months ago. And now-Kurt could not believe what an idiot he'd been. He didn't blame Blaine-it had been entirely his own fault.
And now…
Two minutes had passed. It would be done.
Kurt couldn't look. He couldn't bear it.
Carefully, Kurt walked slowly down the hall, twisting it over and over in his pocket. He looked at the graffiti on the walls, the overflowing trash cans, heard the buzz from the classrooms, the thudding of his own heart. Turning corners and pacing up and down, Kurt could not bring himself to look.
Finally-he reached the corridor with the choir room off to the right. He looked through the window in the door-it was empty. Turning the handle, he went inside, closing the door behind him. He walked across the floor, every step audible in the deadly silence. Crossing to the piano, he sat down in a chair beside it, crossing one leg over as he always did-then uncrossing. He couldn't sit still. His fingers brushed the test in his pocket.
Just look, Kurt. Just get it over with. You know the answer. Just look at the damn thing.
Taking a deep breath, Kurt closed his eyes. He carefully slid the little white strip out of his pocket, holding it in both hands face-down. Hands shaking, he turned it over. Then-he opened his eyes. The focus locked onto the small screen, where a single symbol showed up, very visible. Taking another breath, slightly ragged with fear, he looked.
Please no.
Please.
A small blue cross.
Positive.
...
Finally, Kurt came around. He couldn't remember what had just happened. It was as if he'd blacked out, fainted… But he was wide awake. Here he was, sat in a chair by the piano, alive, heart beating…he could feel the dooming test in his hands, with that little word in black, each letter cutting into him like a gazer beam…
Oh God.
"Oh God,"
Kurt gasped aloud, his voice a whimper. A hand flew to his mouth in shock. No. No, please no. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. Tears were already spilling down his cheeks, choking in his throat. This couldn't be real.
Pregnant.
What now?
What did he do?
What was going to happen?
Oh my God, what about Blaine?
His mind was a mess, whirring with thoughts, warnings, fears, dreads, memories…He could not begin make sense of it, it moved so fast-it was almost like an out-of-body experience. In amongst the madness, the sheer terrified confusion, he recalled a meeting with a doctor when he was eleven, when he'd been tested positive for this gene…Her office had been cold, her suit black, her face severe. She'd arched her fingers, leaning across the desk to him. He hadn't really understood what it really meant back then-he was just a kid.
"If you ever did conceive, the safest thing to do for you, due to the risks and complications, would be to have a termination-"
"No," Kurt gasped aloud-then stopped.
Why had he said that out loud?
And why-had his hands-of their own accord-folded instinctively over his lower abdomen?
He paused.
Suddenly, the sheer panic had slowed. He could gradually see clearly, his mind clearing, head cooling, breath coming under control-and he could think.
He looked down, hands still over the cotton of his shirt, partly obscuring the designer logo printed on it. Then, he thought about what was beneath it, under his hands, beyond the skin.
A life. A little life, just as real as anything. Small-but worth the world.
Kurt had got past the initial panic of Oh my freaking God, I'm pregnant!…and thought about what it meant.
But now…
He imagined the foetus-no.
The baby.
This was not just a collection of cells. This was a human, as real as could be. This was a part of Blaine, growing inside him, a little life they'd created. This was a baby, helpless, vulnerable. This could not just be flushed away. This was a miracle.
Abortion was not an option.
Hand still placed carefully over his abdomen, he looked down, wiping his tears. Nothing is going to happen to you, he promised in his mind. Not ever.
…But what now?
What would Blaine say?
What would everyone say?
Oh God.
What would his father say?
But Kurt firmly pushed all that out of his mind before it could become too rooted. Right now-there was only one thing that mattered. And nothing else would ever matter so much again. Kurt knew he loved this baby more than anything, all the world, his own life. He would give his life for it in a heartbeat, without a second thought. He and Blaine's child-a miracle.
As Kurt finally left that choir room, arms folded carefully across the front of his shirt-he knew his life had changed. For good. And nothing would ever be the same again…
RIGHT! What on Earth will happen now…!
I hope you'll keep reading! I've all sorts of ideas for this…
I've never been pregnant, so all the information here is secondary-please let me know if I get something wrong! :P
More soon! Thank you so much for reading, remember to review if you'd like!
:') OurStarChristineDaae22 xx