Alrighty, here's another Blangst Prompt of the Day Fill, #362
Prompt: Blaine and Cooper don't live with their parents (for whatever reason) and the two brothers live in a small apartment (Blaine never went to dalton). However when Cooper suddenly looses his job, they have to live in Coopers car. Blaine doesn't tell Kurt this. However its winter and Blaine ends up getting really sick. One night, a very upset and nervous Cooper has to end up driving a very sick and unconscious Blaine to the Hummels house b/c they cant afford a hospital and he knows Carol is a nurse.
The first two chapters are just a bit of set up on Blaine and Cooper's background. This is set in S2/S3 of Glee, but it's pretty AU. I do try to keep it as canon compliant as possible, though.
Enjoy lovelies!
Blaine limped into McKinley high school on his first day. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't the middle of the year. And if he wasn't covered in bruises and casts. But he knew that he had to keep up with school or else he'd have to repeat sophomore year, and that would be awful. McKinley would hopefully be better than his last school.
Cooper had to work, so Blaine was on his own as he made his way to the main office to register for classes.
"Mr. Anderson?" the secretary asked when she saw him enter the room.
He nodded.
"Principal Figgins will see you now."
Blaine followed her gaze to the main office where an Indian man sat behind a large wooden desk. The man was currently listening to music on an iPod and dancing in his seat. Blaine tried his hardest not to laugh at the man.
"Hello?" he said loudly upon entering the room, alerting the Principal to his presence.
"Ah, yes," the man said, looking up as if he hadn't been dancing seconds earlier. "Mr. Anderson, I presume?"
"Yeah, I just need to sign a few forms before I can start class, right?" Blaine asked, sitting down. He was hoping to hurry the meeting along so he wouldn't stand out even more.
"Where is your parent or guardian, Mr. Anderson? You cannot register for classes without an adult present."
"Oh, well, my brother had to work this morning," Blaine said quietly.
"What about your parents?"
"They're, um, they're dead," Blaine muttered. "But my brother's my guardian, and he signed this for you to, um, say that he was okay with me registering and stuff," Blaine said as he held a piece of paper out to Mr. Figgins. "And my old school should have forwarded on all my paperwork, so I don't see why that isn't enough."
Figgins looked down for a few minutes and shuffled through Blaine's papers.
"You left your last school after getting into a fight?" Figgins asked slowly, raising his eyebrows at Blaine.
"No! I mean, that's what the school reported it as, but only because those guys were the football stars and they can't afford to expel them! They beat me and my friend up. I think it's pretty obvious that I didn't do any fighting back," Blaine said, indicating his plaster-coated arm.
"Alright, but I will be keeping an eye on you. Everything else seems in order. Just make sure that your brother comes in at some point to update the signatures on the forms."
Blaine sighed in relief.
"Here is your class schedule. It is the middle of first block right now, so you should hurry to make sure you don't miss too much."
Blaine grabbed it from Figgins' outstretched hand and left the office as quickly as his aching knee would allow.
His first period class was Spanish, taught by an enthusiastic man – who was tragically misinformed about the entire Spanish language. Thankfully, the man didn't call him out when he limped into the room. He did ask to talk to Blaine after class, but asked no more than, "Have you taken Spanish before? Great. Welcome to McKinley."
The rest of the day was spent in relative anonymity. At the end of Blaine's first week at school, no one had said more than a few words to him.
On Friday, Blaine's history class was dismissed early so they could all attend an alcohol awareness assembly. He rolled his eyes as he slid into a seat between two of his large, sweaty classmates and prepared to be bored to death by speakers proclaiming the dangers of drinking for teenagers. However, he was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Figgins announced that the show choir was going to be performing.
Blaine didn't even know that McKinley had a show choir. He had been in the choir and theatre programs at his old school, and was disappointed to learn that McKinley had none of that. Apparently, his information hadn't been totally correct.
He slid to the edge of his seat as the curtains opened. A large group of make-up and sparkle covered, scantily-clad teenagers. Their performance might have been a bit risque, but there was no denying their talent. The performance was marred by the lurid purple vomit, but Blaine's interest was still piqued.
"So squirt, how was your first week at McKinley?" Cooper asked Blaine. They were sitting down to a late dinner consisting of leftovers from the restaurant that Cooper worked at. He used to complain about hating to eat the same food that he had been cooking for hours, but since Blaine's hospital bills had caused money to become really tight, he'd kept tight lips.
"Alright, I guess. I think I'm going to audition for their show choir."
"Show choir? Like singing and dancing and wearing boas?" Cooper asked with a grin on his face.
"I don't know. They sang Ke$ha at an assembly this week, so it's not all terrible. Plus, I like singing and dancing."
"I'm just teasing you, squirt. I think it's great."
"The principal wants you to stop by at some point to update the information on my forms," Blaine suddenly remembered. "Maybe you could come by on Monday after my audition. You have the day off, don't you? We could celebrate."
"I think that sounds perfect. We could even eat something other than Breadstix."
"Hey, I love your food, Coop."
"I do, too. I'm a fantastic chef. But I am so tired of that stuff."
Both boys laughed before turning in.
After school on Monday, Blaine limped over to the choir room. He was nervous for the audition, and his haste made his knee ache even more. He was mentally kicking himself for refusing to wear the knee brace the doctors had given him.
He knocked on the door at exactly three o'clock and walked in. There was a group of a dozen kids and Blaine's Spanish teacher crowded into the room. A short brunette girl seemed to be bossing everyone around, and it took the group a few moments to notice Blaine.
"Blaine, right?" Mr. Schuester asked. "Can we help you?"
Blaine held tight to his backpack strap. "Um, I was wondering if you were accepting new members?""
There was a long pause.
"You want to join the New Directions?" a Latina girl asked.
Blaine nodded.
"You do know that it's automatic social suicide, right?" she added.
"Santana," the brunette hissed, "we can always use new members, don't try to talk him out of it!"
"Well, Blaine," Mr. Schuester said, clapping his hands and speaking over the two girls, "we would love to have you join us. Do you have anything prepared to audition with?"
"Right now?" Blaine asked, voice slightly choked.
"No time like the present!"
Blaine wracked his brains for a song he knew well enough before finally settling on a particular one and grinning indulgently. "Sure," he said with a grin.
"Great. Everybody, let's give Blaine the floor!"
Blaine carefully set down his bag and walked over to the band to tell them his song selection. He went back to the middle of the room and stood before the club, hands sweating nervously.
As the music began, Blaine's nerves disappeared and he began to sing.
"You think I'm pretty without any makeup on..."
When the song finished, the room erupted in applause. Blaine bashfully looked up at the other students as they cheered for him.
"Welcome to the New Directions!" Mr. Schuester said.
Blaine spent the rest of the meeting sitting in the back of the room and listening as the others discussed their plans for regionals and (hopefully) nationals in New York.
When rehearsal ended, Blaine gathered up his bag and prepared to leave when a soft hand stopped him. He turned around and was greeted by a most breathtaking sight.
"Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel," the boy said.
"B-blaine Anderson," Blaine said, taking Kurt's outstretched hand.
"Did you just transfer here?" Kurt asked, walking with Blaine to the door.
"Last week," Blaine affirmed. "I saw you guys at the assembly. Other than the vomit, you were amazing."
Kurt looked a little surprised. "Well, I'm pleased to know that one of our performances finally convinced someone in this school to join us. It was nice to meet you, Blaine."
With that, Kurt walked away.
Blaine walked instead towards the front office and met up with Cooper just as he was leaving.
"So, are you in?" Cooper asked as soon as he saw Blaine.
"Yup," Blaine said, grin spreading across his face.
"That's awesome, B! Now we definitely need to celebrate!"
They went out to dinner and had a celebratory cheesecake to end the meal.
Blaine quickly learned that joining McKinley's glee club was probably a bad idea, but he couldn't find too much to complain about. Sure, the slushies and locker checks were annoying, but the other members of the club were always there to help him. The abuse at McKinley was nothing compared to that at his old school. Plus, he hadn't been this happy in a long time.
"So, why'd you transfer to McKinley?" Kurt asked Blaine at lunch one day.
All of the New Directions were crowded around a table in the courtyard despite the chill of the March afternoon. Blaine could feel several pairs of eyes flit to look at him as they all waited for his response.
"I, uh, had some trouble at my old school, and my brother and I decided that I'd be saf- happier – if I transferred," Blaine said.
"What kind of trouble?" Puck asked. "No offense, Anderson, but you don't really strike me as the badass type."
"Some kids there – beat the living crap out of me," Blaine said quietly. "That's why I looked like crap when I first came here."
"Shit," Puck muttered under his breath. "Sorry, bro."
"No, it's – I was used to it. It just got a little out of hand at the dan – one time, so Cooper and I decided it'd be best if I didn't go back."
"Why?" Rachel asked.
"Wh-what?" Blaine stuttered.
Kurt smacked Rachel lightly on the shoulder. "Rachel, can't you see how uncomfortable he is? Blaine, you don't have to explain yourself to us."
"No, it's fine," Blaine assured his friends. "You guys'll find out eventually, I guess. It was because I'm – I'm gay," he whispered to the table. When there was no response, Blaine continued. "I went to a dance with my friend – the only other gay kid at school. These three guys cornered us when we were waiting for his dad to pick us up. I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks and then recuperating at home until Coop got everything settled for me to come here."
"They did that to you because you're gay?" Puck growled.
Blaine looked up, terrified of Puck's tone. Had he misinterpreted his new friends' accepting attitudes?
"Stop it, Puck, you're scaring him," Kurt hissed. The taller boy rested a gentle hand on Blaine's leg. "Don't worry, he's a big softie. They all formed an honor guard around me when the bullies got particularly bad earlier this year."
Blaine blinked in confusion at Kurt.
"There was a kid here who made it his mission to make my life miserable for the same reason. Thankfully it never escalated beyond locker shoves before he was expelled, but it was still pretty terrifying."
Blaine's eyes widened, and Kurt chuckled.
"You know," Kurt began, "I'd've assumed that you'd have a better gaydar. Everyone here knew I was gay without me even having to say a word."
Blaine flushed.
"Anyway," Kurt said loudly, trying to ease the tension, "we're glad to have you here."