Shakespeare's Cliff
A/N: The inspiration for this fic is simple. Darwin (that1BEAUTIFULboy) comes up to me, bearing chocolate chip ice cream, after watching 4X21 and says: "Oh my God, Cece, what if Blaine proposes and Kurt says no because he's actually already exclusive with Adam or something like that? How will Blainers take the rejection? He seems to be the emotionally fragile and impulsive type, isn't he? Considering what he did whne he felt Kurt was moving on without him? Oh no…"
Dar, here's my reply to that not-so subtle request for a 4X21 reaction fic. To the rest of you, I hope you enjoy. Feedback is appreciated. –C.
WARNING: Angst/ Suicidal Thoughts/ Implied Character Death. NO alternate ending.
DISCLAIMER: Glee is not mine. If it was, it would already have a Klaine spin-off.
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Shakespeare's Cliff
By C.M. Oliver
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"No."
The moment that single word comes out of Kurt's lips, Blaine knows that it is the end. The way that the countertenor had said it left no room for misinterpretation. It is but a word, but Blaine hears enough to know what it really means… sentiments left unsaid…
No… I can't be with you…
No… I can't trust you…
No… I don't love you…
No… I can't marry you…
No… I choose Adam over you…
No… It's over…
Over. The word shatters Blaine's last strains of hope. Seriously, how can he ever believe that Kurt will give him another chance? He's messed up, so damn messed up. To be honest with himself, he thinks he's pathetic too. This is what he gets for not listening to advice. They all told him not to: Burt, Patty and Meredith, Sam… even Sebastian. Of course their reasons were entirely different, but the signs were there. The Universe is against him. He expected protest, honestly, but not like this.
"Blaine," Kurt says his name with utmost gentleness and care, his azure eyes filled with dread, sorrow and guilt –it was as if he was scared that Blaine might break with one wrong move… But it's all too late for that. Blaine is already broken beyond repair.
It's not 'no, not yet' nor 'No, not now.' but 'No, not ever.' and 'No, not you.'
And it hurts, it freaking hurts so much. Because for a moment there, he had truly believed that he deserves to be happy, that he finally gets the chance he has long-coveted to make things right again and spend forever with his one true love…
Blaine pulls the hand holding the especially hand-crafted diamond-encrusted platinum ring away from Kurt and wordlessly pockets it. The once-hopeful look in his honey-golden eyes turn blank as his gaze drops from Kurt's view. He then stands up, ignoring the numbness creeping up from his legs for having been in that half-kneeling position for long; He welcomes the numbness, he decides not much later on. He can feel eyes on him, strange eyes that have just witnessed his world disintegrate with a single word. But Blaine can't care any less. He's broken now, so what if he just got humiliated in front of the mostly uptight late-night patrons of Lima, Ohio's only coffee shop? He clenches his fist inside his left pocket and uses his other hand to pick up the previously discarded scarf draped across the back of his chair.
"I'm sorry, Blaine…"
I'm sorry… I've moved on…
I'm sorry… I've let go…
I'm sorry… I made you hope…
I'm sorry… I've led you on…
I'm sorry… I have to break my promise
I'm sorry… I have to say goodbye
I'm sorry… But we're over…
Over. Blaine decides that no explanation is needed –no words can ever be enough to try and make sense of it all. It's just that –over: promises broken, dreams shattered, forever's and alwayses nothing but plain, empty words… Blaine decides not to hear anymore. Kurt can spew out more words, more apologies, more regrets, and Blaine wouldn't hear it anyway. He's closed off, numb –it's much better that way. It hurts so much less. The younger man turns around and walks away –for good.
Blaine does not know how he makes it to his car. He feels as if he's floating –funny thing that is; He feels dead and heavy and yet, he feels as if one small breeze would knock him over. He feels as if he were a lonely bubble –solitary, detached, fleeting –as if one wrong move can end his very existence. He feels as if he can no longer breathe, like the weight of the world is pressing down on his chest.
He knows he's supposed to be numb by now, but isn't numbness a feeling in itself? Well, Blaine feels as if he can feel no longer, that one more emotion, one more push, would send him over the edge and never to return again.
Blaine pulls the door to his Prius open, and absently goes through the motions of getting in, buckling up and starting the engine. Tightly gripping the alligator leather steering wheel, he backs out of the Lima Bean parking lot and drives into the dark, quiet night. He somehow manages to keep his eyes trained on the road, his shoulders, square and his mind, elsewhere.
"No… I'm sorry, Blaine…"
No. The echoes are more painfully haunting than the actual words themselves –probably because there is no escaping them. Blaine closes his eyes briefly. He knows he has to escape –at the very least, try to do so. Blaine then opens his eyes once more. He further tightens his grip on the steering wheel and clenches his jaw.
No… No more.
It's over… Over.
It will be over soon.
Blaine steps on the gas just a little bit harder, until he's sure it's almost locked that way. The Prius roars in response, a heavy contrast to the stillness of everything else. The sound is almost comforting to the emptiness of Blaine's soul. He then reaches for the safety release of his seatbelt and with a click, it comes undone. And just like that, all that Blaine has bottled up inside him since God know when becomes undone too.
"W-Why?" He finally allows his voice to falter. "Why… Kurt, why?"
Traitorous tears begin to fall from his honey golden eyes –he makes no effort to brush them away, contented with knowing that no matter how much he sheds, no matter how much he bleeds, it will never be enough.
"Why?"
The broken sob of a question remains unanswered. Blaine knows it will just have to stay that way. Because honestly, he does not know how much more pain he could take to hear the truth out loud for himself.
The truth.
Kurt no longer loved him.
And damn, it hurts so much
Blaine's vision rapidly clouds with saline, but his mind remains clear, his resolve, determined. He reaches the city limits long after he's reached his own.
Stop. Escape. Over. Stop. Escape. Over. It is a mantra that he repeatedly whispers to himself to keep him going. He does not know for how much longer he needs to do this, but Blaine acknowledges the inevitability that it has to end soon… before he talks himself out of it, before he believes in second chances again, before he once more gets trapped in the delusion that Happy Ever After did exist… before he learns to hope again…
Because no, not everyone deserves second chances, and fairy tales are only for children. Because Happy Ever After is just a phrase, and no one talks about what happens to the ugly old villain after the hero triumphs in his quest –and in this farcical story, Blaine is that villain.
Because hope is abstract and fleeting and therefore isn't really real. Because forever is overrated and always does not stick around for long. Because Come What May is just a fantasy and everything ends… even time…
Until the end of time…
Until my dying day…
Just on the outskirts of Lima, on the way to Westerville, there is an interesting spot of steep terrain called Shakespeare's Overlook. However, it is more popularly known to the locals as 'Make-Out Cliff'. Blaine has never been there before, but it's lore was well known. Many couples have exploited the shade and the privacy for their romantic liaisons. Romance, however, is the farthest thing from Blaine's mind.
Five hundred meters away, the now-deserted cliff already calls out to Blaine like a beacon. He steps harder on the gas pedal –if that was even a possibility. The Prius climbs up to an almost impossible speed of 180 kph.
The sky is a blurry, inky black, Blaine finally notices, and in a brief moment of clarity, he contemplates if it was indeed the way to go. But then his mind's vision settles on an image of eyes, blue as the ocean on a clear summer's day… eyes that at one point in the not-so distant past had made his heart race and his walls come down… eyes that had once mirrored his own hopes and desires…
Eyes that he had last seen looking at him, filled with quilt, sorrow and pity…
Suddenly, it's too late to change his mind, Blaine decides. He stares at the rapidly approaching drop…
"No… I'm sorry, Blaine…"
Blaine closes his eyes one last time and whispers into the night.
"I'm sorry too, Kurt."
The Prius then flies off of Shakespeare's Cliff, into the gripping darkness, the sound of metal crashing, the only thing disturbing the quiet of the night…
Miles away, seated alone in a corner table and toying with a tall cup of lukewarm mocha, Kurt Hummel makes a phone call. He ignores the strange eyes scrutinizing him and his now-tear-stricken face. After five rings, the other end picks up.
"Kurt? What's up kiddo?"
"D-Dad," Kurt sobs, his words coming out in between painful gasps. "I think –I think I had j-just m-made a big m-mistake…"
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A/N:And Blaine dies again. This is officially the third story in my 'Kill Blaine Vol. 1' series. LOL. Kidding. Sorry Dar. Can't help it/ Not my brightest moment but I think I achieved my goal. So. Feedback? Please? Until next time –C.
P.S. KlaineLoveAndSnarryDreams on Tumblr, (.at.)heyitschesca on Twitter and Eastwoodgirl on Facebbok. See you there!