I was feeling sad so I decided to write this as a cheer-me-up. Well, it's not really cheerful but it made me feel better writing so yeah.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or it's characters, sadly.
He was running through a forest, its endless amount of trees towering around him, wavering in the crashing winds and threatening to crush down on him any moment. The sky was pitch-black and starless, the dark clouds exploding with thunder every other minute. He was barefoot and his feet were painfully sore from running so relentlessly over rocks, knife-sharp pine cones and small branches that cut into his feet with every step he took. His breath was caught in his throat and the pounding in his ears almost out-sounded the violent thunder above him.
His body was begging him to stop and catch his breath but his mind told him to keep going until he dropped dead. He had to run away, away from them, away from everything.
There were creatures lurking on him in the shadows, momentarily lit up by a strike of thunder across the sky. He tried to look away but those big, yellow eyes were transfixed on his and he couldn't look away. Those yellow eyes belonged to a number of black, dangerous beasts with pointed teeth. They launched forward and pinned him to the ground, claws scratching his face and tearing his already torn clothes into sad pieces of shredded fabric. He struggled against them, his feet still trying to run, trying to get away.
Then the scenery changed abruptly and he was back at the school yard, the place he had ran away from. He was standing there, his feet still painfully sore but tucked into a pair of shoes that were two sizes too small. He was dressed in a suit that kept pressing against his skin, uncomfortably tight and causing him to feel extremely trapped.
The sky was dark but it had stars now, and the school in front of him was well lit. Around him moved a crowd of dressed up people, all laughing and chatting amongst themselves. There seemed to be a barrier between him and them, because he called out for help but no one looked his way. And then out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving. He spun around and sucked in a horrified breath as the beast from before was standing in front of him on its four paws, growling deep down in its throat.
Then it slowly, never leaving his eyes with its own, raised itself onto two legs. It slid its upper lip upwards and revealed its dangerously pointed teeth. Then its face began twitching and its skin was extracted until it didn't resemble anything at all anymore. The thunder from earlier shot across the sky and all the stars went out at once. The happy people around him had disappeared and he realised he was still screaming for help that would never come. The beast's face was contorted beyond recognition and then it started boiling and its features got blurrier and blurrier.
Then suddenly those yellow eyes got replaced with green ones, staring and piercing his very soul with hate and disgust, the feelings he had come to associate to those eyes. The teeth was still pointed and dangerously exposed, the mouth twisted into a grin of a person who knew he had its victim right where he wanted it.
It's upper body had taken the shape of the tormentor he had grown to fear for the past years of his life, and it's lower body still had the shape of that horrendous black beast, with bended knees and knife-sharp claws that could cut through concrete. It's skin was covered in black feathers, and it sort of resembled an eagle. But over the waist was all human boy, although the hatred in its eyes was beyond human.
The sheer panic within him rose to an excruciating high that seemed to burst out through his very skin. He tried to scream, writhe out of the inhumanly strong hold the creature had on his arms, do anything to just get away. The sharp claws cut into his skin as though it was made of fragile paper, making him scream and plead for closure. Even death would be welcomed at this point. Just anything to stop him from looking into those eyes, anything to stop the excruciating pain that soared through his entire body.
The creature grinned at him, its lips coming closer to his face, its teeth scratching against his jaw and then up to his ear just to whisper a treacherously soft, "Fag."
Blaine felt the wet tears all over his face, dripping into his mouth as he screamed for help. He just had to get away, had to make this stop. He kicked and squirmed and tried to bite the arm that held him in place but got pushed back by a hard elbow to his head. Blood mixed with the salty tears ran down his head and then everything just slowed down and he couldn't see anything. His eyes were tightly shut and he tried to convince his consciousness to give up and leave his body there.
Leave it to die at the hands of his tormentor. An even more painful wave went through his body, starting at his head, and he was sure his skull had actually cracked open.
And then the pressure on him eased. The creature had leapt off him, leaving him in a sobbing pile on the ground.
Just as he thought he was going to pass out, he felt a hand in his, a human hand, desperately squeezing him. The hand got yanked away and replaced by a voice somewhere to his right that was begging him for help, begging him to open his eyes. He forced them open and looked around to see who had called his name. A little bit away there was another boy on the ground, the terrible beast on top of him, clawing and punching and scratching every piece of flesh he could reach. The boy was screaming in the most heartbreaking way imaginable.
He tried to move and help him but his body wouldn't follow his commands. He just lay there and helplessly watched as the creature tore up the boy's skin, laughing and grinning at the pain it was causing the boy.
He found his voice again and began yelling, trying to get the creature's attention again so he would come back and pain him instead of the poor boy.
"NO! No! Don't do that- stop it, no, don't hurt him! NO!"
Blaine Anderson woke with a start.
He was screaming at the top of his lungs, thrashing around like crazy in his bed. His body was covered in ice cold sweat that caused the sheets to cling to his body, causing him to feel even more trapped. He kept thrashing around, screaming and kicking furiously to rid himself of the sheets and the still fresh images of his best friend getting beaten into an unrecognisable shell.
He could feel gentle hands on him but his eyes were tightly shut and he didn't want anyone to touch him so he just kept kicking and he could feel his foot colliding with something firm but couldn't bother to check what it was.
"Blaine! Blaine! It was just a dream, you're safe now, honey, you're-"
He recognised his mother's voice but it didn't soothe him in the slightest. He did calm down enough to stop screaming though, but he still kicked furiously to get those damn sheets off him. He hated physical contact after he had had these dreams, and his mother knew it, yet she couldn't stay away from him when they occurred. She seemed to think it would calm him, but it just made him panic even more.
"Honey, can I get you anything?", she said, blinking away tears at seeing her son so distraught.
He forced his eyes open, slowly to adjust to the blinding light that was caused by his ceiling light.
Blaine's mind couldn't function enough to form proper words. He knew what he needed, what he always needed, but he couldn't find the words. He just sat there panting heavily, staring at his mother as though he had never seen her before. He dimly noticed that her jaw was bruised, but he didn't connect it to his foot colliding with an unknown object earlier. But then his mind couldn't focus on one specific thought anymore and his mind went blank again.
He needed to calm down. Thinking too much never worked in his benefit under these circumstances. He tried to even out his breathing, focusing his gaze on a stain on his bed cover that had been there for a month now. He had spilled chocolate flavoured ice cream there whilst talking to a very special person on the phone before bed time. His mother had tried to get it out but it was resolutely stuck on his cover. She was rather upset about it, but he thought of it as a constant reminder of the love of his life.
When he finally found his voice, the only word that came out was a half-choked tear-stained, "Kurt."
His mother paled a little at the name, and she swallowed with some difficulty.
Kurt Hummel, the boyfriend who Blaine's father had forbid him to have over anymore because he "couldn't control what they did otherwise but over his dead body that he would let them go about their disgusting faggy business under his roof".
"O-of course honey", she said hesitantly. "You- you're sure there's nothing else? Maybe water?"
The unspoken question was left unanswered.
If Blaine had been more composed, he had been upset that his mother was trying to deny him the one thing that could make things alright for him again, but he was too distraught to even notice her hesitation. He had laid down again and pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself in an useless attempt to embrace himself. He craved human comfort, and he was being offered just that, but he couldn't take it.
He just couldn't have his mother comfort him and whisper soothing things to him. It only made things so much worse. The only one he would allow to touch him was Kurt, and he wasn't here. So he would have to settle for his own arms for now.
He was in a state of mind where he couldn't really intercept anything except for his heartbeats that pounded unrealistically loud in his ears. Had he been calmer he would have heard the fight that broke out on the floor below.
"But he's terrified, and he won't let anyone else near him. Please, honey, just for an hour, they won't... they won't do anything, he just needs some comfort."
"I won't encourage him being with- being with that faggot! He's a bad influence on him!"
"I know, I know, but please, just this one time. This dream was much worse than all the others, I've never seen him like this. I'm afraid he'll- he'll do something drastic if we don't get Kur-"
"Don't mention his name to me! He's destroyed our son. It's because of him we won't see him in heaven. How can you speak so calmly of him?"
"Honey I'm sorry, but we really need to call him. Just this one time, please?"
"I-"
"Please."
"Alright. But I don't even want to see him. He'll get one hour, then I'll kick him out. And if he doesn't go on his own I have no responsibility for what I might do."
"I love you. I'll go call him right away."
"Hmpf."
But Blaine didn't hear any of this. He was too busy rocking himself back and forth, his eyes firmly shut, the nightmare playing on repeat on his eyelids. There was a firm lump in his stomach, growing with each second that passed. Had he heard the conversation downstairs he would surely have lost the little sanity he had gained since he woke up. He would have screamed and cried and he would have done something very outrageously stupid.
Because he couldn't stand anyone, least of all his father, saying bad things about his Kurt. Kurt, the most wonderful person in the whole world who made his heart beat faster just by giving him the pleasure of breathing the same air as him.
He had no idea how much time went by. He just lay there, eyes closed and his heart racing every now and then as a particularly nasty image of the nightmare flashed by his eyes, only to slow down again until the next image popped up. After a while of this he heard a distant buzzing pulling him back to reality. Or at least half-back. He slowly realised that it was his phone, so he rolled over to get it from his night stand. He picked it up without checking the caller ID, too confused to realise it might be a good idea.
"Hello?", he answered hoarsely, slumping back down onto the bed again.
"Oh, god, I'm so glad you answered, I thought you had passed out or something. How are you, baby? Your mother called me and told me to come over. What's wrong?"
Kurt's voice was so angelic and soft and caring, and it pushed Blaine right over the edge again.
A disgusting sob erupted from his throat and he lost all ability of cohesive speech.
"Oh, honey, is it that bad?", Kurt asked softly.
"I need- I need you h-here, Kurt. Please, I can't- I can't-"
The sobs took over him again and he curled into a small ball on his bed, the phone still pressed to his ear.
"Baby, hang in there, I'm on my way, okay? I'll be right with you, you just have to be strong for me for another few minutes, okay?", Kurt soothed him.
"O-okay", Blaine sobbed, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his pyjamas.
"Do you want me to keep talking or should I hang up?", Kurt asked.
"I- I don't k-know", Blaine mumbled.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised Kurt shouldn't talk while driving or he would get into an accident.
"I-I'll be fine, we can hang up. Just p-please come as soon as you can", he said after a while.
He thought he heard a soft whimper on the other side of the line and wondered to himself if Kurt was crying. He hated it when he cried, especially when it was Blaine's fault.
But when he spoke, his voice was just as calm and soothing as before.
"I'll be there really soon, I promise. Just try to breathe and be patient and I'll be there in just a little while, okay?", Kurt said.
Blaine could hear the screeching of wheels against asphalt and couldn't help but worry about Kurt crashing in his urgency to get to Blaine's house. He forced himself to remain calm. Kurt wasn't irresponsible enough to let that happen. But the risk did increase if he was on the phone whilst driving...
He closed his eyes and made sure his voice was steady before he spoke.
"Okay", he said.
It wasn't much, but it was all he managed to get out before his voice failed him again.
It was quiet on the other side of the line for a while, and then Kurt spoke again.
"I love you so, so much. I'll be right over."
"I love you too", Blaine whispered.
"I'm going to hang up now, okay?", Kurt said.
Blaine bit hard into his lip to avoid a pathetic whimper to escape.
He nodded, but realised Kurt couldn't see that.
"Yeah. Okay. See you soon."
And then he hung up before he could say something stupid to prolong the conversation even further.
He threw his phone away, not even caring if it landed on the bed or on the floor. Luckily for him it did end up on a pile of clothes on his floor, so it didn't break. He didn't care right now but it surely wouldn't improve his mood if his phone broke down too.
He curled into himself even more, closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but his nightmare.
Images of Kurt and him got mixed up with images of the creature in his nightmare and his best friend behind beaten up; screaming, bleeding, crying, pleading for Blaine to help him-
Just as everything was becoming too much again and he was about to start thrashing around again, he could hear the door opening with a gentle creak.
His head snapped up from where he had hidden it in his arms and his eyes locked instantly on Kurt.
It was 3am in the morning so he shouldn't look so perfectly gorgeous and put together as he did. He did look a little tired, which was only expected as he had been abruptly awaken by Blaine's crying mother way too early in the morning, but it didn't have the effect on him that it had on most people. He looked handsome and calm, and there was a very small smile on his lips as he set eyes on his boyfriend for the first time in way too many days.
But then a small whimper escaped Blaine's lips and Kurt's smile instantly faded into a dull ache.
"Oh, honey", he mumbled as he closed the door behind him and went to sit on Blaine's bed.
Blaine pathetically crawled over to him and allowed Kurt to just sweep him up and wrap him in his arms. He nuzzled into the softest spot on Kurt's neck and took a deep breath of just Kurt.
The smell instantly sent a shiver of safety through his body, and he immediately relaxed into Kurt's embrace. Kurt kissed his hair, that for once was freed from it's gelly prison, and whispered soothing words into his ear.
Blaine didn't catch what he was saying but just his voice had the wanted effect so it didn't really matter. But as he started to relax his mind, the images from his nightmare came back ruthlessly and he was once again reduced to a sobbing pile.
But this time Kurt was there to hold him together, pressing an endless line of kisses to his hair and rocking him slowly from side to side.
They had been in this situation before, and Kurt knew how to handle it.
He knew which spots on Blaine's body needed the tight pressure of his arms to make him feel secure; he knew which tone of his voice was best suited for the comforting words that he whispered as a mantra to give Blaine security in his otherwise shaken up world; he knew that Blaine needed to cry out all his fears before he would be willing to talk; he knew that a kiss on Blaine's jaw was forbidden because it would make Blaine thrash around again, but a kiss on the forehead or preferably on his hair gave the desired effect and made Blaine calmer.
He knew that, for the moment, Kurt's arms around him was the only thing holding Blaine together, the only thing helping him to chase off the demons of his past.
So he held him like that as Blaine cried into his shoulder, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably for a good twenty minutes before he calmed down again.
Blaine's mother had been right. This nightmare had been much worse than the previous ones, which is why Kurt decided not to pressure him into talking about it just yet.
"How are you feeling?", he asked softly and pushed back some of the curls that had fallen into Blaine's forehead before planting a kiss there.
Blaine snuggled closer to Kurt's chest, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of the same puzzle.
"Tired", he answered finally.
Kurt nodded, somewhat satisfied. Tired was better than terrified.
"Let's tuck you into bed, then", he said and carefully lifted Blaine into his arms. He knew from experience that Blaine wasn't planning on letting go of his firm hold of Kurt's shirt any time soon.
He laid Blaine down on the mattress and then settled down next to him.
Blaine immediately scooted closer to him and nuzzled into the soft fabric of Kurt's shirt.
He hadn't had time to get dressed properly so he had just pulled on the first shirt he could find.
But it didn't even bother him as it usually would.
Blaine was much more important than fashion.
He kicked off his shoes and then crawled out of his jeans and let them drop to the floor.
"Are you staying?", Blaine asked sleepily.
"Of course", Kurt said and wrapped his arms around Blaine.
He hadn't been allowed to do that before, but nothing in the entire world could force him away from Blaine right now. This had been a particularly nasty nightmare, and he didn't want Blaine to wake up again in an hour from that same terror.
He could see how close Blaine was to another breakdown and he knew that his mother, and definitely his father, couldn't handle it.
If his father came in to chase him out, he would just do whatever it took to stay. Or he would take Blaine home with him, but that alternative wasn't particularly attractive because it would be much more distressing for Blaine.
But they were lucky, and Blaine's father didn't come up to kick him out. Kurt supposed his wife had convinced him into letting him stay, and sent her a warm thank you mentally.
"I'm so sorry I made you come all the way here in the middle of the night", Blaine mumbled suddenly.
"Don't be. I'd do anything for you, driving over here was just the least I could, and would, do for you", Kurt said.
He heard Blaine sigh.
"But we have school tomorrow, you'll be exhausted because of me", he said.
Kurt rolled his eyes.
"You are more important than school, silly", he said.
"No I'm not."
Kurt pressed another kiss to his hair, firm enough for Blaine to really feel it.
"Of course you are, you are the most important thing to me in the whole world. I'd even give up scarves for you, and that's saying something", he said firmly.
Blaine loosened Kurt's grip on him a little so he could lean up and press a fond kiss to his lips before settling back down against Kurt's chest.
"Don't, though. I love your scarves", he mumbled sleepily, his words a little fuzzy because he was talking straight into Kurt's shirt.
"Go to sleep, honey", Kurt said with a gentle chuckle as he wrapped his arms back around him.
He decided to postpone the nightmare discussion to the next morning. Blaine was so exhausted he wouldn't make much sense now anyway.
Blaine quickly fell asleep once he was back in Kurt's strong, secure arms. He never had nightmares when he fell asleep with Kurt, so he didn't have a single worry on his mind as he drifted into sleep.
The last thing he remembered saying before sleep claimed him was a sleepy, "I love you."
He could feel Kurt smile against his hair as he replied in that soft, adoring voice of his that just sent butterflies through Blaine's entire body.
"I love you too."