This story has been banging around in my head for awhile now, but I've been resistant to writing it down because a Glee school shooting fic just seems cliched and overly dramatic, not to mention the fact that I've already got way too many WIP fics to finish at the moment. But this story keeps clamoring around in my brain making itself known in various ways and screaming for attention, so I thought I'd jot down a mini ficlet from this bigger story brewing in my head. This would be a climactic scene from Chapter 2 or 3 of the larger story if I decided to expand it. Read and tell me what you think? Pretty please?
Warnings: A little profanity and obviously some violence as this is the aftermath of a school shooting, but nothing overt in this ficlet. Mainly a Klaine fic, but some small hints of Finchel and Brittana. Based on the Glee universe and characters, but no major spoilers. Hurt/comfort and angst abound. 772 words.
Blaine left Finn attending to Rachel's wounded leg and rounded the corner of the library shelves as quietly as possible, his heart practically pounding out of his chest with fear for Kurt. He knew Kurt had headed into the library less than 20 minutes ago, only minutes before the as yet unidentified shooter had started his rampage. Blaine had asked Rachel and Santana and anyone else he had encountered since the first shots rang out, but no one had seen Kurt leave the library or had so much as seen a glimpse of his bright plum sweater or heard the faint trill of his distinctive high pitched voice.
Blaine and Finn had either stupidly or bravely decided that they would search for Kurt and Rachel once they'd been informed of the shooting. They'd both crept down the hall as stealthily as possible, lock-down be damned, and had been informed by a random hockey player crouched behind a bank of lockers that the shooter had just exited the library and was headed towards the cafeteria. Blaine's stomach had immediately clenched in fear as he remembered the last words Kurt had spoken to him.
"I need to drop off a book in the library," Kurt had said, clutching the biography of Patti Lupone. "Meet you in the choir room?" Blaine had smiled vacantly, slightly distracted by the way in which Kurt's skinny jeans cupped the angles of his ass as he bent down to pick up his backpack. He'd simply nodded and given Kurt a gentle squeeze to the shoulder, a heteronormative variation of the gestures they used to express their affection in private, since Blaine was determined that he would not allow his presence at McKinley to put Kurt in harm's way from bullying or gay bashing. And just like that, Kurt was gone. It was only minutes later that the first shots had rung out. If Blaine had known... If only he'd... If Kurt was... Blaine stopped and shook his head, unable to complete those sentences, even in his own mind.
Blaine peered down yet another row of abandoned bookshelves, still seeing no sign of Kurt. He wanted to believe with all his heart that Kurt was safely waiting in another room or had managed to tuck himself into a quiet corner of the library, safe and sound. But the silence in the library was deafening. Blaine knew that the shooter had been in here. People had been hurt, possibly even killed in here. He shuddered as he remembered stepping over Azimio's bleeding and lifeless body. A Cheerio he didn't recognize was holding a sweater against the jock's bleeding chest, but Blaine hadn't been sure if the football player was alive or dead. And Rachel, while not gravely injured, was currently immobolized thanks to a wound to her upper thigh, terrified but also grateful that she was still alive to tell the tale of what they'd experienced so far. And terrifingly, she'd also not seen or heard anything from Kurt since the first shots rang out.
Blaine neared the end of the second to last row of bookshelves, his mouth going dry and his pulse pounding loud enough to be audible in his own ears. He'd hastily scanned the entire library, save for this last row of shelving. If Kurt wasn't here, then... Well, then Blaine didn't know where he could be or if he was safe. As Blaine prepared to round the corner, he felt his heart drop with sickening recognition. He didn't know why, but in that moment, he just knew. When he rounded that corner, he was going to see his boyfriend. Hopefully alive and unharmed.
With a deep breath, he stepped around the corner, his eyes immediately scanning the row of shelving for any sign of his boyfriend. In the heartbeat of a moment that it took his eyes to find and register the sight before him, he felt the whole world shift on its axis. Two thirds of the way down the aisle, slumped against the lower shelves in a semi-seated position lay the rumpled, pale, still, and bleeding form of his boyfriend.
Blaine was on his knees beside him at once, his hands trailing everywhere: up and down Kurt's body in panicked, frantic movements, never stopping in one location for more than a fraction of a second. Blaine couldn't talk or breathe or think until he felt the slight, barely perceptible movement of Kurt's chest as he exhaled a shaky, unsteady breath. Tears pricked Blaine's eyes as his world came back together with the miracle of that single, monumental gesture. "Kurt?" Blaine gasped.
I don't know, guys... What do you think? Is it worth continuing? Like I said, this has been my headcanon for a long time now, so I've got chapters worth of material in my head begging to be let out, but I'm still...hesitant. However, I'm willing to let the headcanon take over and write this story if there are people here who want to read it. Should this become a full-on story? I'll let you decide. Either way, I figure it is good writing and drabble practice.