Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Glee; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. The songs, of course, are not mine either, and all due credit goes to the wonderful writers and performers of those songs.
Author's Note: I've been writing this pretty much since 4x04 aired. My life is a busy, complicated mess right now, so writing goes very slowly, but it's been so painful watching these last few episodes, living through the hiatus, etc. I was very upset about the cheating storyline and a lot of the assumptions and criticisms people leveled at both Kurt and Blaine, and there's been so much meta going around that my head was swimming with it. So this is the result: fix-it fic that picks up with the boys' Skype conversation in 4x03.
That said, Klainemas was amazing. And Blaine is auditioning for NYADA. Someone on Ryan's staff has been reading "Warblers' Reunion," I swear.
"Have A Little Faith in Me" was written and originally performed by the incredible John Hiatt, on his album Bring the Family. My conception of Blaine's mother in this story is based on the pics that were floating around of Darren and Lea Salonga. I have to thank WickedForGood13, Zayrastrial, and ca_te (or bluecloudsupabove) for lots of reassurance and handholding throughout this story. I love you all.
Have A Little Faith – Chapter One
"You're hanging out with fashion goddess Isabelle Wright; I'm running for student body president with a former stripper," Blaine said dryly, amusement and something unidentifiable lacing his tone. Something registered internally in Kurt's mind – was that irony? belittlement? – but he latched onto the main substance of Blaine's sentence.
"Oh my gosh, I forgot about that; how's it going?" Kurt exclaimed.
"It's going okay, but I did want to ask you what bowtie you thought I should wear for tomorrow's debate. I have narrowed it down to five, but mainly I have these two – "
"Oh, I'm sure whatever you choose will look great," Kurt cut in, smiling warmly. Blaine was nothing if not dapper, and Kurt knew that he always made an effort to look his best, especially for something like an election debate.
"Hi Blaine, we miss you!" Rachel called.
"Oh, Rachel says hi," Kurt said.
"Oh, hi Rachel," Blaine called, and Kurt jumped into the conversation again, almost over the end of Blaine's sentence. He was still incredibly excited about the evening he and Rachel had had with Isabelle the night before.
"Let me ask you one more thing about the video; in the scene where she plays the East Village 'It' Girl, did you think that was too much?"
"No, it's, um, I don't – I don't know," Blaine said a little hesitantly
"Okay, I didn't either, but she was –" Kurt paused, midsentence, because he was paying just enough attention to his boyfriend's face to notice the miniscule shift as it happened: Blaine's slightly averted gaze, the light dimming out of his eyes, the hurt that he tried to mask with a halfhearted smile. Had Kurt not been looking closely, he never would have seen it, and how long was it since he had seen that expression at all? He wasn't usually the cause of it, and it pierced him to the heart to think he had been the cause of it now.
"Blaine?" he said softly, leaving his other question unfinished. "What's wrong?"
Blaine shook his head slightly, as if to get rid of some irksome insect, and renewed his effort at the smile. "I – nothing's wrong, Kurt. I'm fine. Tell me about your video."
Kurt shook his head in contradiction, frowning at Blaine even though his boyfriend wasn't looking directly at him. "You're not fine, Blaine. What is it?"
Blaine remained silent, and Kurt wished that he could see his boyfriend's hands, his posture, something to tell him what Blaine was thinking. As it was, the only clues he had were in Blaine's facial features, which now included lips that were pressed together, as if to keep in emotions that were threatening to spill forth.
"Blaine," Kurt repeated, his voice even softer and kinder, though fear was starting to claw at his insides in a way that made him feel nauseous. "Sweetheart. Look at me, please?"
Blaine slowly turned his eyes back to the webcam, in a gesture of a few seconds that felt like an eon to Kurt, and then their eyes were locked, and Kurt's hand clenched into the fabric of his duvet. Blaine's eyes looked so – so lifeless, like everything had been taken from him, and he looked – hopeless. Frighteningly hopeless.
"You can tell me," Kurt continued, keeping his voice as soothing as possible and grateful for the fact that it didn't shake. "I won't be upset with you, I promise. Why did my comment about the bowties hurt you so much?"
Blaine inhaled, a small, sharp intake of breath that felt like a knife in the chest to Kurt, and then he tried to speak, pinning his eyes to Kurt with a look so pleading that it knocked the breath from Kurt's body. Something was wrong here, something was so very wrong. This was not his Blaine.
"I'm – it wasn't really about the bowties, Kurt," Blaine said, his voice halting as he struggled to articulate what he was feeling. "I – this is what I was so afraid of, last year. You're there and I'm here, and it's not – you don't – you don't need me anymore, or want me, and I'm just – I'm just holding you back from being there, from being there in New York where you belong, and I – I didn't want that, I didn't want to be a burden to you –"
"Blaine," Kurt gasped in shock, temporarily stopping his boyfriend's flow of painful, ragged, devastating thoughts. Blaine had tears brimming in his eyes, and Kurt watched as he curled in on himself, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as if trying to hold himself together.
"Blaine," Kurt started again, talking past the lump in his throat. "I will always need you. Always. It doesn't matter if you're in Ohio and I'm in New York, or if we end up on opposite sides of the country. I love you, and being in a different city doesn't change that. You could never, ever be a burden."
Kurt wanted more than anything to reach out and hold Blaine; it made his whole body ache to see Blaine in so much pain and not be able to give him the physical comfort he craved.
"I love you too," Blaine whispered, his eyes still fixed on Kurt. "So much. But Kurt, it's – we've gotten to talk so little, and our calls keep getting cut short, or we have to reschedule our Skype dates. I miss you, and you have this amazing new life – I knew you would, and I'm so proud of you – but it hurts. You feel so far away."
Pieces gradually started to fit together in Kurt's mind. The way Blaine had been acting lately, always talking about meetings for this club or that, his amused yet frustrated stories about having Sam for a running mate, the circles that always seemed to be present under his eyes, the odd dynamics in the glee club that had left Blaine fighting for a position that should have naturally been his. The occasional glimpses of his scraped knuckles on the computer screen, through the webcam.
"You've been trying to fill the space," Kurt breathed out in realization, and Blaine visibly winced, putting his head on his knees and hiding his face from Kurt. "Blaine. Has McKinley really been so awful? I know that Rachel, Santana, and I aren't there, but –"
"They don't care," Blaine burst out, his head still down, his voice cracking. "They don't care, Kurt. I'm just the guy who was the boyfriend of one of their former members. I'm the guy who used to be the frontman for the Warblers, and so I can't be trusted. I'm the senior who's talented but who doesn't really matter. Sam tries to be my friend, but he was always closer to Artie than to me. Marley tries, too, but she's – she's a little afraid to be my friend, I think, because of what happened when she first attempted to befriend all of us in glee. I'm older than she is and she doesn't quite trust me. And I just feel so alone. I'm completely invisible."
The words poured out of Blaine in a torrent while tears fell silently down Kurt's cheeks. Blaine's shoulders were shaking, and though his words were muffled, they were still clear, his voice slightly louder and full of desperation, as though he couldn't stop talking now that he had finally started. Kurt wondered how long he had been screaming in his own mind with no one to listen. He, Kurt, should have been the one who was listening; Blaine hadn't voiced so much as one word of blame against him, but Kurt knew that most of their missed or short calls and rescheduled Skype dates were due to him. His schedule was busy, sometimes ridiculously so – but none of it mattered in comparison to seeing Blaine in a fetal position, almost numb with pain and loneliness.
"There isn't anyone here, either," Blaine continued harshly, digging his fingernails into his calves. Kurt could see his knuckles whiten against the fabric of his pajamas. "Cooper – he's called a couple of times, but you know what he's like; everything is about him even when he's trying to be nice – and Dad is never here and wouldn't talk to me even if he was. Mom is amazing, you know that, but she can't be here as much as she'd like to be either – and I don't want to worry her; I've worried her enough for a lifetime."
Kurt nodded at the comment about Mrs. Anderson, though he doubted Blaine noticed; he still wasn't looking at the screen. Kurt had met her more than once when he was still in Ohio, and she was indeed lovely and sweet, but also a very busy attorney, and he could see the sadness lurking in her eyes. It was amazing the way she lit up around Blaine and tried to make her life and his brighter, but she didn't have enough time to be with Blaine the way she wanted to, not between her career and trying to keep Mr. Anderson as far away from Blaine as possible.
Blaine was wrong not to turn to her, though. Blaine's mother loved him, Kurt knew, and she would want to know that her son was hurting this way. No matter how busy she was, Kurt couldn't imagine that the woman he had met would not come running if she thought Blaine needed her.
Seeing Blaine like this left Kurt terrified. His gorgeous, loving, and usually confident boyfriend was falling to pieces, in a way that Kurt instinctively knew was not healthy.
He had seen and felt some of this before, in his own mirror, in his own mind. It hadn't been like this, not nearly this terrible, but it had been enough.
"Blaine," he said compassionately, he voice full of worry and anxiety and love – and, oh, he hoped Blaine could hear all of the love – "how long have you felt like this?"
Blaine lifted his head, finally, and Kurt's heart broke all over again at the tear tracks on his face, at the despairing and lost expression in his eyes.
"It's – it's just gotten worse and worse since you left," Blaine said thickly, swallowing hard. "It's not your fault!" he said quickly, terror flashing over his face as he realized that it sounded as though he was blaming Kurt. "I – I miss you so much, I do, but I know that it's not just that. It's – I feel like I've lost my way in a lot of things, and I don't know how to find it again. I feel like I've been wasting away and no one has noticed. No one notices," he finished, his voice cracking again. "I'm not important enough for anyone to notice; why would they?"
"Of course you are," Kurt said, speaking through his own tears. "Of course you are, Blaine Anderson, and I don't ever want you to doubt that. I know I tend to have blinders on when I'm focused on a goal, on something new, on excelling, but I had no idea how much my being away was hurting you – how disconnected you felt from me. I'm so sorry."
"I didn't want you to worry about me, Kurt. I hate feeling like I'm pulling you back here," Blaine said wearily, running a hand through his hair. "The last thing you need is to feel like you have to take care of me because I'm hundreds of miles away and can't seem to handle anything without you."
The self-loathing in Blaine's tone made Kurt's throat ache, and he repressed a sob, but he couldn't keep more tears from falling. How had Blaine come to despise himself so much – and why hadn't he seen it before now?
"You are the man I love," Kurt said firmly, wiping his cheeks and coming to several decisions all at once. "You are not pulling me back anywhere; I am always connected to wherever you are. By the way, you're still my boyfriend. Don't think I didn't notice that little slip."
The saddest of smiles pulled at Blaine's lips, barely turning his mouth upward. "I know. And I love you," he said quietly. "It's just the way they make me feel."
"Well, the New Directions making you feel that way, among other things, ends in the very near future," Kurt said determinedly. "I'm coming home next weekend."
"What?" Blaine exclaimed. "Kurt, no, you can't – what about Vogue?"
"Isabelle will understand; she is the world's most amazing boss," Kurt said in his best no-nonsense tone. "She can manage to give me Friday and Monday in Lima as long as I send her assignments over e-mail. Goodness knows I've told her enough about you; I think she's a little in love with us as a couple."
Blaine gave a surprised chuckle, and the sound warmed Kurt's heart, gave him a small reason to hope and breathe a little easier.
"I'm coming home Thursday night," Kurt continued, "and spending the weekend with my boyfriend – and I think you should come to my house after school on Friday," he added carefully. "It's up to you, but I think it would do you good to be around people. I'm going to pay a visit to McKinley, too."
"Kurt, you really don't have to –" Blaine started to object, but Kurt interrupted him.
"Yes, I do. Tina, Artie, and Sam are still my friends, Blaine, and whether you believe it or not, they're yours, too. They seem to have forgotten that, and I'm just going to remind them," Kurt said, his tone slightly menacing. "Also, I'd like to meet Marley properly," he said, his voice relaxing a little. "She sounds like a really nice person."
Blaine nodded. "She is. Too nice for all the drama that goes on in New Directions, really."
Kurt grimaced. "I can believe that." He paused, refocusing his gaze on Blaine, trying to project all the love he could to his boyfriend. "I love you, Blaine. I'm sorry I haven't seen how much you were struggling, and we're going to make this better, but I love you. Please don't ever forget that you matter to me."
Tears slid down Blaine's cheeks again, but his smile was almost real this time. "I love you, too. With all my heart, Kurt."
"I know," Kurt answered solemnly. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the screen, and Blaine returned the gesture.
"Would you – stay - until I fall asleep?" Blaine asked tentatively after a moment. "I've been sleeping so badly, and I think it would help if you were here – well, sort of here," he said, waving at his laptop.
"Of course," Kurt said tenderly. "I'll even sing to you, if you like."
Blaine sighed, a blissful expression crossing his features. "That would be wonderful."
Blaine lifted his laptop and crawled into bed, and Kurt took the opportunity to slide under his own covers – his clothes were not exactly designed to keep him warm this late at night. Blaine settled against his pillows, curling one arm underneath his head and laying the other over the top of the pillow.
Kurt took in the sight of Blaine's dark curls fanning over crisp sheets, his long lashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked sleepily at Kurt, his slender fingers resting on the pillowcase, and felt his heart swell with adoration. He loved this man more than he had words for, and they were going to fix this. He was going to help Blaine, in whatever way he could.
He took a long breath and opened his mouth to sing, his mind automatically choosing the song that he knew would resonate the most.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night . . ."
He watched Blaine for a long time, long after Blaine's breathing was deep and even and the sadness and exhaustion in his face were smoothed away with sleep.
Once he was sure Blaine was asleep, Kurt turned off their Skype connection – but not until he typed a quick message for Blaine to read in the morning.
I love you. You matter. You take my breath away, still and always. XOXO, Kurt.
Then, Kurt checked his watch. It was 12:30 a.m., and he had to get up in the morning, but he had one more phone call to make tonight.
He took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Cooper Anderson. Before he left for New York, he had asked Blaine for the numbers of his parents and brother, just in case of an emergency. Although Blaine had shaken his head at the idea that the numbers would need to be used, Kurt knew that he appreciated the concern behind it.
Now, Kurt was glad he had insisted. He was also glad that Cooper lived in Los Angeles; it was only 9:30 p.m. where he was.
Wherever Cooper was when he answered, it was unbelievably noisy. Kurt winced and held the phone away from his ear.
"Cooper?" he said, speaking loudly and thanking his stars that Rachel was still awake. She had tactfully stayed away during his conversation with Blaine, but Kurt knew he would be answering an avalanche of questions at some point. "Cooper, it's Kurt."
"Kurt?" Cooper shouted. "Kurt who? Are you an agent?"
Kurt huffed in annoyance; he really was not in the mood for Cooper's ego. "Blaine's Kurt," he said pointedly. "For heaven's sake, can't you go someplace where I can talk to you like a normal person?"
"Blaine's Kurt?" Cooper repeated, worry creeping into his voice even though he was still shouting. "Hang on, Kurt, just a minute."
Kurt heard more noise, some maneuvering, and then the clang of a crash bar, before the background was blessedly quiet. He sighed in relief, putting the phone next to his ear.
"Kurt?" Cooper questioned in concern. "What's going on? Why are you calling me?"
Kurt got straight to the point. "I need you to call your brother tomorrow. And I need you to stop being a self-centered actor for five seconds and actually listen to him."
"What's wrong with Blaine?" Cooper demanded. "He sounded fine the last couple of times that we talked."
"How many weeks or months ago was that?" Kurt said dryly. "This is Blaine, Cooper. You should know that he's going to try and convince you that he's fine, even when he's not. He had me convinced until tonight," he said regretfully, his concern bleeding through his attempts at chastising Cooper.
Cooper was silent for a moment. "He's really not okay, is he? You wouldn't be calling me otherwise."
"He's really not," Kurt said tremulously. "I – he scared me tonight, Cooper. I've never seen him like that, and I was so close to missing it entirely. If I hadn't seen one little thing and made him talk, I never would have known. He's – he feels incredibly alone right now. He needs to know that there are people who love him and worry about him."
"What happened?" Cooper asked tightly. "Please tell me no one hurt him again."
"Not physically, no, but he's – it's a long story, Cooper. I was part of it; I didn't realize how distant he was feeling from me, and things at school have been difficult. The New Directions are a bit of a mess, and they've done everything but make him feel welcome, apparently."
Cooper swore under his breath, and Kurt could almost see him running a hand through his hair.
"Talk to him. Let him talk to you – and I mean really talk to you, Cooper Anderson," Kurt said sternly. "I know that you play the fool on the surface because it works for you in that shallow world of beautiful people you live in, but you are not stupid or heartless. If you say one thing to Blaine that makes him feel worse about himself than he already does, so help me, I will fly out to L. A. and maim you so that you never act again."
"Point taken," Cooper said solemnly.
"It had better be," Kurt said, maintaining the threatening tone. "I'm flying home to Ohio next weekend, and I'm hoping by then to have done a few things to help Blaine. This is just one. Don't screw this up."
"I really am trying to be a better brother to him, you know," Cooper said earnestly, and Kurt relaxed, some of the tension leaving his body.
"I know you are," Kurt acknowledged. "And I know he's grateful that you're making the effort. So am I. I'm just very worried about him at the moment."
"I know," Cooper said understandingly. "We'll help him, Kurt. Whatever he needs. Thanks for calling me."
"You're welcome," Kurt answered, a small smile crossing his face. "I'll talk to you soon."
As Kurt hung up the phone, he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was not going to be an easy week – but it was late, and he needed some sleep. He could keep planning in the morning, and hopefully make some phone calls in between his duties for Isabelle.
Before either phone calls or sleep, though, he needed to fill in his roommate.
The next day, after bringing Isabelle's coffee, sorting out her important messages, and sitting through another meeting full of disastrous fashion ideas, Kurt finally had a moment to talk to Isabelle about Blaine. He took a deep breath as he approached her office, raising one hand to knock lightly on the door.
"Come in," Isabelle called, and Kurt pushed open the door to find Isabelle hunched over a drawing.
"You're drawing again!" he said excitedly. "Can I see?"
"Not yet," Isabelle said slowly, biting her lip in concentration. "Maybe when I'm sure it's something. What did you need?"
Kurt sobered instantly, reminded of the reason he came. "I need to go home to Ohio this weekend," he said resolutely, and Isabelle looked up. She took in the signs of fatigue on his face (Kurt was good with concealer, but not a miracle worker) and the fear in his eyes, and her own eyes softened.
"What's happened?" she asked, and Kurt thanked his stars for the thousandth time that he had found Isabelle when he did, and that so far she had proven to be a completely wonderful human being.
"It's Blaine," Kurt said, and he couldn't keep the strain out of his voice. Isabelle was a very understanding person, but she was also very busy. Would she consider this enough of a reason to let him go home, to give him long-distance work for a couple of days?
Isabelle sat on her desk. "Blaine? Adorable boyfriend Blaine?" she said anxiously, and Kurt almost smiled. The first time he had told Isabelle about Blaine she had melted, and he was convinced that his boyfriend was now Isabelle's personal pet, at least in her own mind.
"I talked to him last night and found out some things, and I'm worried about him, Isabelle," Kurt sighed. "I'm fairly sure he's depressed, and I'm also fairly sure that there was one other time in his life when he's been there. He's never said so explicitly, but it was after something really horrible happened to him. I don't want him to fall back into that place in his mind, but he needs help. He needs me, among other things."
Isabelle studied him. "I'm happy to let you work long distance this weekend," she said kindly. She hesitated a moment, but then continued. "You know that you can't be his only anchor, though, Kurt. That's not healthy for either one of you."
"I know," Kurt nodded. "I'm working on that, too; that was the other reason I came to see you. Do you mind if I make some calls, in between doing things for you today?"
"Of course not," Isabelle said. She came around her desk to hug Kurt. "Let me see that picture of the two of you that you keep in your wallet," she requested, and Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise, but obligingly pulled out his billfold and flipped it open to the picture of himself and Blaine that rested there. His father had taken it at graduation. Blaine looked devastatingly handsome in his suit, perfectly pressed and put together, his face beaming. Kurt was next to him, his graduation gown unzipped and his own gray suit showing through. They had their arms around each other and were grinning for the camera. Looking at it now made Kurt's throat tighten; Blaine looked so happy, and he had looked so broken the night before.
Isabelle traced a fingertip over the photo with a small smile. "You two have something worth keeping. Even I can see that," she said, looking up at Kurt. "Go put that smile back on his face. Just call me to let me know that you're sending things."
Kurt gave in to his impulses and hugged the tiny woman beside him. "I don't know how to thank you," he said excitedly. "I'll get everything to you on time, I promise. I'll coordinate with Chase to make sure."
"You just did thank me; it's been ages since anyone has hugged me like that," Isabelle said with another smile. "Now go on. Make your phone calls, and work hard for me the next couple of days so that you can get that flight Thursday night."
Kurt gaped. "How did you know that?"
"I know the way your mind works, Kurt Hummel. It's a lot like mine," Isabelle said, giving him a wink.
Kurt worked his way methodically through phone calls and appointment confirmations, calendar checking, photocopying, and the photography schedule before he sat down again to call his father. It was mid-morning at this point, and while Burt might be in a meeting (Kurt was fairly sure he was in Washington for most of this week), he always answered his phone when Kurt called if it was at all possible to do so.
To Kurt's relief, his father picked up on the second ring. "Burt Hummel."
"Hi Dad," Kurt sighed, his shoulders slumping in relief.
"Hi buddy," Burt said cheerfully. "How are things in the Big Apple?"
"Things here are fine, Dad, but they're not so fine back in Lima," Kurt said. "Listen, am I right in thinking that you are home next weekend?"
"Yeah," Burt said concernedly. "We're flying back Thursday night; I have meetings at the local office next week."
"Can I meet you at home?" Kurt said, hesitating just the slightest bit. He was never worried about receiving a welcome at his father's door, but this situation had the potential to be complicated.
"You know you never have to ask me that," Burt said firmly. "Of course you can. What's going on, Kurt?"
"It's Blaine," Kurt confessed, and suddenly the release of being able to talk to his father about this, of having someone to share the apprehension with, almost made him lightheaded. Rachel had helped some, but there was no one in the world like his father. "We talked last night, and I – he's – between whatever's going on at McKinley and us being apart, he's barely holding it together. I'm scared for him, Dad. I was hoping to have him at our house for the weekend; he's been way too isolated at that empty mansion his parents call a home. I promised him I would pick him up at school on Friday."
"I will never understand people who ignore their own kids," Burt muttered angrily. "Of course Blaine can spend the weekend, Kurt. I'll meet you at the airport Thursday night when I get in and we'll go home together, okay?"
"That would be great," Kurt said thankfully. "Also" – and he hesitated again, but then took a breath – "is Carole around this morning? I was hoping she could call some of her colleagues from the hospital and find me a reference."
Burt was silent for a minute. "You really think it's that bad?" he asked contemplatively, and Kurt nodded before remembering that Burt couldn't see him.
"I do," Kurt said emphatically. "Blaine's only ever told me bits and pieces of what happened, of how he felt after he was beaten up at that Sadie Hawkins dance, Dad, but I don't want him back in that kind of mental space, ever."
"Carole's at home, at our apartment here," Burt confirmed. "You shouldn't have any problem reaching her. I'm sure she'll be able to find someone who can help, Kurt."
"That's what I'm hoping," Kurt answered, rubbing between his eyebrows at the headache he could feel forming. He had gotten very little sleep, and he wanted nothing more than to be on his way to Ohio right now.
"I'll see you Thursday, Kurt. We'll make sure Blaine is okay. He's part of this family, too," Burt said reassuringly.
"Thank you, Dad. I love you," Kurt said warmly.
"I love you too. We'll see you soon," Burt said.
Kurt hung up and immediately re-dialed, calling his stepmother this time. He explained what he needed in as few words as possible, and Carole was all compassionate sympathy. She promised to get back to him as soon as she could, and Kurt ended the conversation feeling better than he had any time in the last twelve hours. A quick online search got him flights to Ohio and back, and he resumed his regular work with a sense of accomplishment. Now all he had to do was make it through the next three days.
When Burt finished the call with his son, he called Greg Thompson into his office. Greg was the amazingly smart and competent kid, straight out of Georgetown, who had volunteered on his campaign and now essentially ran his D. C. office. Greg had proven himself an expert at being both professional and discreet, and in this case Burt was prepared to take full advantage of his skill.
"Greg," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, "find me an office number for Blaine Anderson's mother. She lives in Westerville, but I'm not sure which law firm she works for. Probably a firm with international clients. Be quiet about it, and find me any reasonable excuse to call her."
Greg took in the thoughtful and determined look on Burt's face and just nodded, slipping out the door.
On Friday morning, Kurt pulled into the McKinley parking lot and allowed himself a moment of reflection. He sipped at his non-fat mocha from the Lima Bean; it was the largest size they had, and that was purely a product of living in New York. He already couldn't survive without more coffee.
He glanced down with a smile; Blaine's medium drip was sitting patiently in the cup holder, waiting until Kurt brought it to its intended recipient. Kurt knew that Blaine would appreciate it – especially if he had been sleeping as little as he said.
A frown appeared on Kurt's face at that thought as he took another sip and contemplated the building in front of him. Glee club had been a haven for him, even with all of the drama between its members, but he still could not condone the policies, or lack of them, that failed to protect the dignity and safety of the student body, not to mention students' emotional well-being. Miss Pilsbury tried her best, but she couldn't be expected to personally monitor every student – and someone should have seen that something was wrong with Blaine.
Kurt exited his car, carrying his satchel over his shoulder and both coffees carefully in his hands, his head held high as he made his way through the front entrance. He found his way easily to the choir room, where he could hear the melody of the latest Pink single being belted by someone. He listened for a moment and decided it had to be Unique.
Moving silently, he leaned in the open doorway of the choir room, and his suspicions were confirmed. Unique was in the center of the floor while the other spun around her, and although the general pattern of the choreography looked good, no one was quite in synch yet; everything was just a little off. Mr. Schue was dancing with the choir, demonstrating the steps for anyone who fell behind.
Seeing Blaine in person for the first time in two months revealed to Kurt exactly how much stress his boyfriend was under. Looking at him told Kurt more than any words or Skype dates could have done. Blaine had the dance steps perfectly, but they were lifeless, routine, with no joy in them at all. He sang dutifully, but he wasn't smiling; there was no volume, no energy. Blaine had always been slender, firm muscle over a small frame, but Kurt was sure he had lost weight, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He was a far cry from the Warbler lead singer Kurt remembered, and even farther from the compassionate, trusting person Kurt loved.
As Blaine came around Unique and faced the door for a moment in his dancing, he caught sight of Kurt and stopped dead, causing Marley to stumble into him and Mr. Schue to look around and see what had happened. Kurt sent a small smile to Blaine before stepping into the room.
"Kurt!" Mr. Schue exclaimed with a smile. "What a nice surprise. What brings you back here?"
There were exclamations from all of the upperclassmen then, Tina and Artie, Sam and Brittany and Sugar, while the newest members looked on.
Kurt's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at his teacher's utter obliviousness to Blaine's presence and significance, but he shrugged, keeping his manner deliberately casual. "I thought I would come and see my boyfriend, and maybe show the new singers how it's done," he said, with the air of one offering a carefree challenge. He set the coffees underneath a chair, then immediately went to Blaine's side and tangled their fingers together.
"You did not just dare us," Unique said with a grin, shaking her head. "Bring it on, Jaroussky."
Kurt's eyebrow went up at the reference to the classically trained countertenor, but instead of answering, he turned to the still-silent Blaine, who was looking at him with a million emotions in his bright eyes, brighter than Kurt had seen them since the week before he left for New York. Kurt gave him another soft smile, silently apologizing for drawing the New Directions into their reunion, then raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed Blaine's knuckles.
"Sing with me?" he murmured, still running his lips gently over Blaine's fingers. He lifted his eyes and saw Blaine swallow, then nod.
"Kurt – I don't know if I can - " Blaine started, his voice almost too quiet for even Kurt to hear.
Kurt straightened up, gathered Blaine into his arms, and kissed him full on the mouth, heedless of the silence that had suddenly enveloped the choir room. "Yes, you can. Trust me," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against Blaine's for a moment.
He stepped over to Brad, keeping his hand in Blaine's. "'Have A Little Faith In Me,' please," he requested politely, and Brad nodded. As the rhythmic yet gentle piano melody began, Kurt drew Blaine into the center of the room, pulling him by both hands. He opened his mouth to sing, thankful that Brad could transpose so that he and Blaine could sing together.
When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
Kurt raised his arm that was furthest from the choir and rested it on Blaine's cheek, letting the group see the touch without blocking their view. His inner showman had kicked in instinctively, but he was utterly focused on Blaine, staring into Blaine's hazel eyes, almost golden today, trying to transfer his own faith and trust to Blaine. Blaine fixed his eyes on Kurt, and Kurt could see the determination and love there. When his voice took over from Kurt's, it flowed strong and sure from his throat, though it was almost raw with the emotions Blaine was trying to keep in check.
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try, baby
And have a little faith in me
Blaine took Kurt's hands for the last two lines, and as he sang the verse he gently spun Kurt under his arm. Kurt smiled at the tender yet playful gesture, and the two of them remained with their arms around each other's waists as they broke into the chorus together.
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
And when your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin', from a whisper start
Have a little faith in me
Kurt picked up the verse after the chorus, his clear and sweet countertenor floating around the choir room. He moved away from Blaine and pressed his hands to his own heart, and then reached out and pulled Blaine close to him again, putting his joined hands over Blaine's heart at the end of the verse. These lyrics were so, so appropriate for Blaine; Kurt realized more than ever how difficult it was for his boyfriend to confide in others, and how much he needed that safe space from Kurt.
Blaine had the next two lines, and he stepped back dramatically, moving away from Kurt, pressing his back against the piano as his voice soared. There was the slightest hint of a question in his eyes, and Kurt knew what he was asking.
And when your back's against the wall
Just turn around and you, you will see
Kurt extended his arms in answer, leaving his elbows just slightly bent and his hands palms up, making a safety net of his arms as he reaffirmed his commitment to Blaine, to them.
I will catch you, I will catch your fall
So have a little faith in me
As Kurt sang, Blaine walked forward and placed his own palms against Kurt's, lacing their fingers together so that their joined hands and arms were hanging between them. They sang the chorus together for a second time, never looking away from one another.
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Kurt took the beginning of the bridge, by silent mutual agreement, and he saw Blaine's mouth curl up at the lyrics. Kurt knew he was seeing the spy who had stopped him on the stairs at Dalton, the Kurt who had watched Blaine Warbler with hearts in his eyes from the very first song. He hadn't expected anything from Blaine then – but he had hoped. And even through the Jeremiah nonsense and Blaine's confusion over Rachel, Kurt had had faith in their friendship, and their potential to be something more.
'Cause I've been loving you for such a long time, boy
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
Blaine's smile as he sang the next lines took Kurt's breath away, almost literally, because the love shining through his expression and his eyes was so great as to be almost overwhelming.
You see time, time is our friend
'Cause for us there is no end
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me
Kurt knew, perhaps more surely than ever before, that he wanted everything with Blaine. He could see his future in Blaine's face, and it was beautiful. He lifted his voice one last time to join Blaine's, and their harmonies soared together.
I will hold you up!
I will hold you up!
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me
They drew out the last line, and Brad let the accompaniment die away. There was silence for a long moment, until finally it was Sam who broke the awed stillness. "Damn. Tell me again why your duet didn't win Regionals two years ago?"
An amused half-smile found its way onto Blaine's face, and Kurt turned to grin at Sam. "Because we were new at this whole being in love and performing together thing then, and we're not now."
"It's the sex; it's definitely the sex," Artie said decidedly. "Helping you two get it together was the best directing call I ever made."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, Artie, we would never have gotten to that without you," he said sarcastically, and the rest of the choir laughed.
"You haven't sounded like that since Kurt left, Blaine," Brittany spoke up, and Blaine jumped a little, startled, before looking at Brittany. "Is that why my other dolphin has been so sad? Your mate was gone, so your song was too?"
Kurt sucked in a breath, and he could feel Blaine's rapid breathing beside him before Blaine answered, his voice a little uneven. "Something like that, Britt. It's not the only reason, but – it is a lot harder to sing without him." Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist and gave him a brief but heartfelt squeeze; they were going to talk about this.
There was a pause, and Kurt jumped back in before the moment could get uncomfortable.
"Guys, you can absolutely win everything this year," he said firmly. "You have so much talent; you just have to figure out how to channel it as a group. You have to trust each other. You've got amazing veterans in this room: Tina, Blaine, Sam, Artie, Brittany, Joe, and Sugar were all here when we won Nationals. Blaine has won competitions with the Warblers; Unique has won them with Vocal Adrenaline. Learn from each other; don't try to exist solely as independent units. You don't sound like a group if you sing and act like a bunch of soloists."
"Says the boy who was always going for the solos," Tina retorted, and Kurt laughed.
"I was, but I learned to never underestimate the power of group cohesion. The few months I spent with the Warblers really started to teach me that."
"Not that we would ever, ever tell Wes that," Blaine said from beside him, with another half-smile. "His ego would become unbearable."
Kurt's heart lifted a little further. That was the closest thing to a joke he had heard Blaine make since he had left for New York.
"Kurt's right, everyone," Mr. Schue said, entering back into the discussion. "We can do this, but not if we're fighting against each other instead of working together. You are all friends here; try to remember that even outside of this room. I know the beginning of this year has been hard, missing some of our old members and trying to figure out how we work together now, but we can. We will. I'll see you all on Monday."
As the group broke up, chattering as bags were packed and chairs rearranged, Blaine leaned over even further to speak in Kurt's ear. "I need to go to my locker and grab some things. I'll meet you back here?"
"I'll be waiting," Kurt promised, turning his head to give Blaine another kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too," Blaine answered, and for one beautiful second, a real smile illuminated his face before he was gone, standing and slipping away as the New Direction veterans descended on Kurt.
"Kurtie!" Brittany said, running toward him and nearly knocking him down as she wrapped herself around him. "I miss you so much."
"I miss you too, Britt-Britt," Kurt said, hugging the blond cheerleader. He looked at the rest of the group as they gathered around him: Artie, Sam, Tina, and Sugar had all come up to say hello.
"I'm happy to be back, but I'm upset with all of you," he said coolly. "None of you happened to notice that Blaine is basically a walking shadow of himself? This didn't concern anyone? No one thought to call me and tell me that my boyfriend is turning into a wraith?"
"Dude, I've been trying to at least give him some company," Sam defended himself, and Kurt nodded.
"I know you have, and I appreciate it. You ran with him for the student government, and you didn't have to do that. What about the rest of you?"
Tina, Sugar, and Artie all shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Cute and Compact is pretty quiet when he's not rehearsing," Sugar offered. "He doesn't let people very close."
"Really," Kurt said dryly. "You were all here last year, weren't you? Does quiet seem like the right adjective for the performer who sang 'It's Not Unusual' in the middle of the courtyard? Or the person who killed his West Side Story audition with the most beautiful rendition of 'Something's Coming' that I have ever heard? Or the guy who prepared 'Last Friday Night' just to cheer us all up? I am not excusing myself in this; I haven't caught on to how much Blaine has been hurting either, and that is my fault. But I also don't see him every day anymore, and even Skype does not tell you nearly as much about a person as actually interacting with him or her. Blaine is not okay. He is suffocating under the weight of feeling lonely, insecure, unwanted, and unimportant, and apparently none of you cared enough to do anything about it. Not even enough to call me and tell me something was wrong."
"Some of us have been dealing with our own problems, Kurt," Tina said sharply, and Kurt was abruptly reminded of the Tina he had seen at the beginning of the year, the one bitter about her breakup with Mike and overly invested in the power of popularity.
"I'm sorry about you and Mike," Kurt said apologetically. "I really am, Tina. But you all used to be better at supporting each other, and instead it feels like competing for status is your first priority. Rachel and I fought each other fiercely for solos, but we were friends; she's still my best friend next to Blaine. I don't see friendship in this room; I see division." His voice grew sharp. "I wouldn't be happy about what's happening either way, since this was an important group and a safe space for me. When the love of my life is the one who slips through the cracks because everyone is too busy trying to be 'The New Rachel' to be friends, I'm done. Fix it. Fix whatever it is between you that's broken. You all need each other, whether you want to admit it or not."
Brittany was still hugging him, and her face was solemn as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "We're sorry, Kurt. We'll be better. We needed you to bring some of your unicorn magic back to us."
Everyone, even Kurt, cracked smiles at that, and Artic nodded. "You always were good at reminding us what our priorities were – and in a much less annoying way than Rachel," he said with a grin. "We'll figure it out, Kurt. No more infighting."
"Good," Kurt said bluntly, his face relaxing a fraction. He turned to Brittany. "Britt, once I go back to New York, I want you to look out for Blaine, okay? Don't let him feel sad if you can help it."
"I'll make sure he isn't," Brittany promised. "He needs you too, though, Kurt. It's no wonder he's so sad without you. You two might be dolphins, but you act more like eagles a lot of the time."
Kurt rubbed between his eyebrows; sometimes Brittany's animal analogies were too much even for him. "What do you mean, Britt?"
"Dolphins need physical touch; they thrive on it," Brittany explained. "They have more than one partner, though. Eagles mate for life. They're together forever until one of them dies. They need each other."
Kurt felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Brittany Pierce was not at all smart in the academic sense, but her insight into human beings could be astounding. "I need Blaine, too, Britt. I'm still learning how to be a good mate to him."
He and Brittany hugged a moment longer, and then Kurt cleared his throat. "All right, people. I have a boyfriend to find. I'll see you all at Christmas, though; Rachel and I are both coming home."
"We'll be here," Tina smiled. "You'll have to come caroling with us."
After hugs and fist bumps all around, the glee members made their way out, and Kurt took a moment to compose himself. Before he could do much more than take a deep breath, though, the door to the choir room opened again.
"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed. "Look who I found on her way out. I knew you wanted to meet her, so I asked her to come back with me."
"Hi," Marley said with a sweet smile, holding her hand out. "It's really hard to refuse him when he looks happier than I've seen him since the first week of school."
"It's so nice to meet you, Marley," Kurt said warmly, shaking her hand. "I know we kind of saw each other in passing before I left, but it isn't really the same." He leaned over conspiratorially, throwing a mischievous glance at Blaine. "And it's the puppy eyes. Deadly. I still can't refuse them."
Marley laughed, and Blaine's cheeks reddened.
"You're one to talk," he retorted, playfully shoving at Kurt's shoulder. "The pout kills me."
Marley looked back and forth between them, grinning at how comfortable they were. "How did you two meet, anyway? I know you were at Dalton, Blaine, so how did that happen?"
"You mean no one's told you the story?" Kurt said incredulously. Marley shook her head, and Kurt scoffed. "The McKinley gossip mills are not nearly as efficient as they used to be, then. That settles it. You are coming to lunch with us on Sunday, and we'll tell you all the details." He leaned in again, and this time Marley played along, leaning in with him as if she was about to hear a huge secret. "There was serenading involved. And spying."
"And lots and lots of flirting," Blaine added, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind with a nostalgic smile.
"Flirting that turned into months of denial," Kurt grumbled, but he didn't pull away from Blaine, and Marley laughed again.
"It's a deal," she said, her eyes sparkling. The three of them swapped phone numbers, and when Marley had gone on her way, Blaine and Kurt were left alone.
Blaine immediately turned to Kurt and unapologetically buried himself in his boyfriend's embrace, folding his arms around Kurt so tightly that breathing was almost impossible, gripping Kurt's vest in his fingers and pressing his face into the juncture of Kurt's neck and shoulder.
"You're here," he sighed. "You're really here. I love you so much."
"I love you too," Kurt whispered, holding Blaine just as tightly and rubbing soothing strokes up and down his back. He could feel Blaine trembling with the force of his emotions, and suddenly realized that it must have exhausted him to give their joint performance, no matter how much safer it had made him feel.
"Come on," Kurt said gently, easing out of Blaine's arms. "Let's get home. I intend to make the most of every minute I'm here with you."
Blaine nodded and stepped back, but kept his hold on Kurt's hand as they collected bags and beverages. Kurt's eyebrows came together in a silent question, and Blaine looked down at their hands and then back up at Kurt. "I don't want to let go," Blaine admitted in a low voice. "I feel as though you'll disappear if I do."
Kurt set down his (now cold) coffee and loosened his other hand from Blaine's in order to cup Blaine's face in his palms. "I'm not going anywhere, Blaine. I told you that I'm never saying goodbye to you, and I meant it." He kissed Blaine lovingly before smiling at him and rejoining their hands, and as they walked out to the parking lot, Blaine was smiling, too.