Written for AU day of Klaine Week 2012. Just an idea that struck me when I woke up this morning. The basic division from canon…Blaine went to Caramel instead of Dalton after the bullying problems. But despite seeming to have it all, things really only got worse.
For the first time since arrival, Kurt wasn't thinking about how wonderful New York was or about his part in the performance. His only thought as he hurried down the hall toward the restroom was the expected reason. He had to pee. There was nothing particularly fantastic about that, no matter where you were in the world.
He was in a big city where no one knew him, so in interest of not scaring anyone he actually stopped at the mens room and pushed at the door. It didn't budge. He frowned at it, confused. He tried again, and realized it was locked. It didn't make sense, backstage the day of a huge national show choir competition that one of the bathrooms would be locked. He started to pull back and try the ladies room when he realized what was actually wrong with this picture.
He could hear water running.
Kurt's heart rate picked up and his imagination flashed through some worst-case scenarios…which were also in many ways only-case scenarios. Kurt couldn't come up with another explanation. Panic tore at his mind as he realized that there was someone behind this locked door…someone in a lot of trouble. Sure, it could be something else, it could be anything else…but Kurt couldn't think of anything else it could be and he wasn't just going to stand here while…
The locking mechanism was simple. Enough force in the right spot and it would slide right open. Except Kurt was pretty sure he wasn't strong enough. He thought about going to get someone…Finn, most likely. Maybe Mr. Schue. But by the time he explained what was going on, it would be too late for whoever was in there. Kurt closed his eyes, the memory of that line of thought too strong in his mind. Taking a deep breath, he lined up the spot as perfectly as he could, stood back and slammed his shoulder into the door.
The lock popped open and Kurt rushed in and froze in his tracks.
He knew the boy who was sitting on the counter next to the sinks. Couldn't quite place him, but Kurt was sure he'd seen him before. Dark curly hair that might actually need all the product that was in it to stay contained. Tiny but solidly built and nicely tanned skin; Except Kurt didn't really notice those things this time. What he noticed this time were the tears flowing from the hazel eyes and the flash of silver as the other boy moved to hide something sharp from view, turning his arm down in panic.
Without hesitation, Kurt went over and grabbed paper towels. His hands were shaking when he reached out and grabbed the strange boy's hand and was surprised when there wasn't a fight against pulling his arm forward and putting pressure on the cut that, thankfully, didn't look that deep yet. He couldn't tell until the blood had been cleared away though, and there was other damage that needed to be addressed too.
"Nothing is worth this." He stated with simple conviction. "…nothing."
The other boy spoke softly, sounding broken. "…I might have damaged my voice in rehearsal."
Kurt froze. Because he couldn't deny that was the one thing he couldn't come back from, if he'd damaged his voice irreparably. He had other reasons to live but at that stage it would take constant effort to make the choice to stay alive. Slowly, he started moving again, running his thumb in slow circles on the other boy's palm, trying to be comforting, squeezing down on the paper towels to try to stop the bleeding. "May have?" he asked, trying to at least make room for some hope in the situation.
"I can't tell." The so small boy returned. "…I've been so nervous, so terrified…I feel like I'm going to throw up but then I swallow it down and it burns…" Dark curls knocked against the wall and Kurt felt a surge of sympathy. "I can't go on stage and this is my only escape." Not knowing what to say, Kurt checked the wound. It hadn't gone very deep and the bleeding had already stopped. He threw away the paper towel he was using and grabbed another one. But before he could fold it properly and press it to the wound in a way that could be taped down until proper gauze could be applied, the other boy caught his hand. "…why are you doing this for me?"
More than anything, that question surprised Kurt. "…when I realized what was happening in here" he answered, hoping there were no questions about how he'd figured it out "…I wasn't just going to let someone do that…not when I could…" what? Help? Stop them? There wasn't really a word for what he was doing that actually set right.
"You're from New Directions, right?"
And with that question it slid into place where Kurt had seen this boy before. He was Blaine Anderson, this year's lead singer for Vocal Adrenaline. Kurt blinked a few times as this realization colored the situation and suddenly it made a lot more sense. Jessie's words from just over a week ago sank into his mind, the description of what it was like in VA and suddenly Kurt just wanted to hold this boy until everything was right for him again. But then the real content of the question resonated and Kurt understood his confusion. Not really wanting to hear the answer, Kurt found himself asking "…are you saying you wouldn't have done the same for me?"
Blaine looked at him, really looked at him, and Kurt found that breathing was suddenly a bit difficult because Blaine was absolutely gorgeous. In that heart-stopping way that it really wasn't healthy to think about someone in such a delicate mental state as. Blaine's answer came slow, and grudging. "…they'd kill me for it." It was a little on the melodramatic side, maybe, but then again, Kurt had just stopped him from cutting his vein open and dropping his arm under running sink water. Blaine had earned a touch of melodrama, as long as it wasn't directed toward self-harm. "…They'd seriously kill me for it, but yeah…yeah I'd do the same."
Kurt eyed him suspiciously, waiting for some sort of punch line about it being because he was suicidal or something equally morbid. Instead he just got a sad attempt at a smile. Kurt returned a smile, a real one, as clear as he could. Then, gently "C'mon…let's get you somewhere with a first aid kit."
But even though he gently tugged, Blaine didn't budge. "…what then?" Blaine asked, panic edging in his voice. "I can't…I can't go on stage…"
"Yes, you can." Kurt found himself arguing. Which was stupid, because who encouraged someone who had just tried to kill themselves to put themselves out there all over again, and risk making a huge mistake? But the words tumbled out because even though his mind wondered if they were the best thing to say, they were what he felt. "…because I don't know who told you otherwise or what they were thinking but if you managed to get lead of VA than you're good. Better than good, good enough to do this."
"I just might have damaged…" Blaine interrupted
"Than let's run scales." Kurt suggested. "Find out if you can still hit everything you're suppose to."
Blaine looked suspicious. "…you're…why?" He'd stopped crying by now, but there were tear stains on his face and Kurt suppressed the instinct to just start getting him cleaned up right there because the cut on his arm needed attention.
Kurt just smiled, as close to warmly as he could. "Because I believe that you're worth keeping alive." He tugged Blaine from the counter, and Blaine followed this time. "C'mon, I know where there's a first aid kit. We'll deal with the performance later…there's almost an hour."
It wasn't as much time as Kurt tried to make it sound like it was, and he knew it. But Blaine needed time right now, and Kurt would find a way to make it for him. Determined, he led a quiet, cooperative Blaine out to get him some help.