Author's Note:
Set sometime during 4x06 "Glease". This is my take on a prompt, and I have to say, it is the darkest and most angsty thing I have ever written. Warnings for non-con and mature themes.
*Prompt:* A gun man (who has dirt on Blaine or knows something about his past) goes into McKinley and ends up in the Glee Club room and Blaine ends up with a gun to his head. The gun man threatens to kill him and proceeds to rape Blaine in front of the Glee Club. Blaine then kills himself either that day or days later.
The words still rang in his ears; an angry, bitter cry of, "I'm not for sale!"
Sam never realised how much it had hurt Blaine when he had suggested using some of his raunchier stripper dances for sectionals. At the time he'd only cared about his own feelings and how pissed off he'd been at the ex-Warbler's comment. It wasn't until a few days later when he started to wonder why Kurt's boyfriend had reacted so strongly. Eventually, he forgot about it.
Until now.
They were rehearsing in the auditorium, reciting the jibberish lyrics to Gangnam Style while Jake and Ryder danced ridiculously. Tina and Blaine had linked arms, both laughing at one of his impressions and Brittany's giggles. Finn was talking with Marley about the duet, nodding along to her suggestions even though it was clear he didn't really have any clue what she was saying. All in all, the club was relaxed, happy and carefree. They even left the doors open to get some fresh air into their lungs.
That was, perhaps, their biggest mistake. About twenty minutes into rehearsal, when the school was completely empty besides the glee club, they were interrupted.
A tall, lean man with shaggy black hair and wild dark eyes burst in, and started making his way down to the stage. He wore a charcoal grey business suit, though his tie hung loose around his neck, and one hand was buried in his jacket.
Sugar squeaked at the sight of him, and immediately the rest of the group turned around, startled. Blaine visibly paled.
"Er, can we help you, sir?" Finn asked dumbly, standing up to greet the man.
Black eyes scanned the stage. "I was looking for Blaine Jackson. Is he here?"
The others looked at Blaine in confusion, but he kept his head lowered to the ground, clutching Tina's hand in an almost painful grip.
Finn, who had been oblivious to what was going on behind his back, narrowed his eyes. "Do you mean Anderson? Blaine Anderson?"
"Finn, shut up!" hissed Artie, who noticed Blaine was trembling.
The dark haired man stopped in front of the McKinley graduate, finally seeing Blaine. "Hey, baby," he smirked, watching as the curly- haired boy flinched and looked up fearfully. "I finally found you. I can't believe it's been four years since I last saw you. My my, you've got hotter."
Blaine recoiled, revulsion making the hairs stand up on his arms and the back of his neck. "What do you want?" he growled, taking the others by surprise.
The man threw his head back and laughed. "Braver, too. Bet you won't be so brave if I hurt your friends, would you?" Slowly, he pulled his hand out of his jacket, revealing a gun. Finn exhaled loudly, and Kitty squealed. Smiling maliciously, the man trained his aim on Sam, who had moved in front of Blaine protectively. "Face me like a man, or my finger might just...slip."
Shaking and very white, Blaine pushed Sam aside and came face to face with a man he hadn't seen since he moved to Ohio. "How did you find me?" he asked sharply, hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Oh, Blaine, your mother really is talkative when she's had a few drinks," the man sneered. "She told me everything, except the name change. Very clever. Do your friends know you used to be a Jackson? No? Oh dear, this is going to be interesting."
Blaine shuddered, and Finn darted forward. "What do you want?" he said aggressively.
The man pulled Blaine backwards into his chest, digging the gun into his temple. Marley and Tina were sobbing in fear, Brittany whimpering quietly. Kitty, Unique and the boys were hard-faced, Sam and Jake visibly restraining themselves.
The man shoved Blaine down onto his knees, the gun still held to his head. "Show your friends what a good little slut you are, baby," he ordered, unbuckling his belt and removing his trousers. "Suck me."
The glee club were screaming and shouting 'NO!', horrified. Blaine whimpered. "No..."
"Do it!" the man ordered, pointing the gun at a hysterical Brittany. Blaine obeyed, reaching for the man's hardness and sucking the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the slit like he'd been taught. He pretended he didn't choke when suddenly it was nudging the back of his throat, pretended he didn't hear the man's moans, pretended that his friends weren't yelling and crying in the background. A hot, bitter liquid suddenly shot down his throat, and he whimpered pitifully as he tried to spit it out. Semen trickled down his face, mixing with the tears.
"Such a good little whore," crooned his tormentor, stroking his hair as if he was a pet. "You like choking on my big dick, don't you, baby? Almost as much as you like it up the ass."
Blaine let out a wail of misery as the man stripped him of his clothes, laughing madly as the glee club raged and screamed and cried. Then suddenly he was flipped onto his stomach, face pressed into the floor as he cried and hiccupped.
While the man wasn't looking, Marley's fingers brushed her phone in her pocket, dialing her mother's number. She uttered a quiet, "Help" but didn't hang up, letting her mum hear Blaine's tortured yells in the hope that she would be able to get help and save them from this psychopathic monster. She clutched at Jake in desperation, terrified.
The man's thrusts became rougher and more erratic until finally he growled out his orgasm. Blaine moaned painfully into the floor, wishing more than anything that his tormentor would just pull the trigger and be done with it.
Finn sobbed in relief when they heard sirens. The man swore and hastily scrambled back into his clothes before sprinting out of the auditorium, leaving the gun lying on the floor where he had dropped it in his rush to escape the police.
Sam and Tina hurried to their friend's side, but were held back by Jake, as Finn pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around the small, bleeding boy before pulling him into his arms, tears falling freely.
"B-Blaine," Sam choked out, grasping Tina's hand like a lifeline. "Blaine I'm so s-sorry."
The curly-haired boy moaned. "Sammy?"
"I'm here, I'm here," the blond cried, falling to his knees and stroking his friend's face. "We're all here, everyone…we all love you, B, we love you, okay?"
"Hurts," croaked Blaine. "M' gonna die."
Finn made a strangled noise, his arms tightening around the quivering boy as the tears rolled down his cheeks. "No, you're not. You're gonna be okay, I promise."
As the paramedics bustled in and took Blaine away, all Sam could hear were four angry words his friend had snarled at him last year.
I'm not for sale.