A/N - this has been a long time coming.
To honour the late Glee (sob!) I've wanted for a while to write a 'how it should have ended' fic with a focus on my favourite characters - take a wild guess lol
I'm going to follow the story all the way through season 3 and then diverge from canon a bit in season 4.
Story contains a lot of original characters and is very Blaine-centric. Don't say I didn't warn you :D
Enjoy!
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MONDAY 29TH AUGUST 2011 - 8PM
The worst part was that the heat wasn't coming from anywhere in particular. On a sunny day you could hide in the shade but this day wasn't sunny, there was no blaze, the sky was overcast and grey it was just uncomfortably hot. And there was nowhere to hide.
Blaine rubbed the material of his shirt against his armpits, cringing inwardly at the sticky dampness. He seriously considered taking his shirt off for a second but the thought of a maternal bollocking for getting sunburned made him think better of it. Jesus I feel like I'm basting in my own sweat. Roll on, September…
Still, no matter how nice some AC would be right about now, Blaine would still have preferred to be out and boiling alive than stuck in the house with his family.
His phone vibrated suddenly against his butt cheek and he smiled involuntarily. Actually the former statement wasn't altogether true, he'd love to be inside with the part of his family that wasn't his mother, his father or his brother.
There was a picture attached to the recently received text message. It was Blaine, un-gelled with his arm around a pale, skinny boy with black hair and high cheekbones. He was staring off at a space a ways above the camera with his mouth frozen in a wide open smile. Blaine scanned the text;
From Willie; 1 attachment
Look at this 1, if they made mr. Cauliflowers instead of mr. potato heads u would be 1 of those
Blaine laughed aloud in spite of himself and then looked up self-conscious but there was no one around, so his eyes fell back to the screen in his hand.
Willie was Blaine's newest love affair. But it didn't count as cheating on Kurt because he was his cousin, or second cousin, or first cousin once removed or something.
He thumbed his reply.
From Blaine: re Willie;
Rude! I have a very respectable level of natural fluff :P
The response was almost immediate.
From Willie; re Blaine;
U hav a sentient hair beast on ur skull, it moves of its own accord. But I don't mind, it's soft and stimmy :D
Blaine sent a tiny yellow face blowing a kiss in response to this and the text conversation devolved into a gratuitous exchange of emojis. His cheeks hurt from grinning. In between wracking his brains for story excuses to use little caricatures of farm animals and mini flags Blaine was scrolling through his photo album still trying to decide what he wanted most to print this time, his meagre allowance not allowing him a lot of choice in this regard.
He had illustrated to his parents the cost of printing photos properly, professionally in an effort to garner sympathy and maybe, possibly a raise? It…hadn't really been successful.
"If you think I'm forking out even more of my hard-earned money to support you in a hobby, young man, you are very much mistaken. You need to learn the value of the dollar, if you find the very reasonable budget that you have been given can't support a certain pastime then it's probably time for a re-evaluation."
Urgh, a simple yes or no would have sufficed. What am I supposed to do? Just get a new hobby? It's not a damn phone contract, I can't just get a new one when the old one gets too expensive or whatever…I bet they think I should go back to collecting stamps or playing operation in my spare time…something that doesn't cost any amount of money and doesn't leave bits of craft paper lying around…
But now he was getting annoyed, in spite of himself. Remembering conversations with his Dad tended to have that affect on Blaine. Attempting to distract himself he paused on a photo again of him and Willie with their arms around each other, this time in what he remembered to be a private helicopter. He smiled at the sudden idea that he could probably just get Willie to pay for all of the things from now on it's not as though he'll miss the money I guess.
Willie was Blaine's mother's cousin's son if you wanted to get technical about it, a link to a tragic and fascinating family history that Blaine had previously known very little about. If he looked very closely even just at pictures on his phone he could find his mom in the heart shaped curve of the chin, the full lips and the deep blue eyes of his new best friend. Looking at the two of them together even Blaine would have guessed that they'd known each other their whole lives, the twin smiles on their faces, the comfortable closeness; in practically every picture his fingers brushed they were together, laughing, touching, close together.
And Blaine had never been particularly outwardly affectionate; he could stress about the roots of that for hours. At home, mom was the affectionate one, who touched hands and kissed cheeks and hugged without warning. The men of the family, not so much...Dad wasn't cold by any means but he tended to think of an approving smile and a pat on the shoulder as the height of loving gestures. Between the benign awkwardness and undeniable emotional distance nobody really wanted to put hands on each other. This summer had been a real contrast.
There were four weeks in total captured in low resolution on Blaine's modest smart-phone, beginning in late July and finishing a week ago, he'd had to delete most of his music to make room for it all. Among the scenes of smiling faces smushed close to his own, hundred dollar restaurant meals he didn't have to feel guilty about and lazy mornings spent learning to play poker and eating fruits with names he couldn't pronounce were gorgeous landscapes of New York City, the Hamptons villages, the ocean…he could make a scrapbook out of all these shots, I should make a scrapbook out of all these shots.
Another text appeared at the top of the screen;
From Billy;
U managed to leave ur charger here sweety u gonna need it?
Technically Billy wasn't a relative, not even by marriage. But he was Willie's dad, and he was brilliant, so that made him as good as.
From Blaine; re Billy
I got more than 1 charger Bee ;)
This was cool. Blaine had never called an adult by their first name before, let alone a nickname, even as a tiny tot he addressed his day-care workers as Missus Sara and Miss Charlene. It felt too disrespectful to do otherwise. But Billy had insisted.
So after an awkward period of calling him Mister Millard, then Mister Emm – but always 'Sir' when his parents were in earshot – he eventually threw caution to the wind and made sure the first time he was overheard calling him by name the man himself was there with his disarming smile to reassure everyone concerned that it was not a huge deal.
"Devon, my good man, if MY son can call me by name I'm pretty sure it's socially acceptable for yours to do it too."
Although he was grateful for the support and if he was being honest, a little bit thrilled to have someone challenge his Dad right in front of him Blaine had cringed inwardly at the comment. Devon Anderson had never taken kindly to remarks about his parenting, however indirect.
Billy's reply came on the tail end of another emoji update from Willie.
From Billy; re Blaine
Ah yes Millienial preparedness. I'll keep it safe in any case. U can collect it when u come back 4 Christmas
From Blaine; re Billy
I'm coming back 4 Christmas?
From Billy; re Blaine
U bet ur partially American ass ur coming back 4 Christmas
He laughed out loud again, and again checked to see if anyone had noticed. A middle aged lady walking her dog frowned slightly as she passed him. He gave her an awkward smile then hurriedly lowered his eyes back to his phone. There was no one else.
He flipped back to his photo album, and one more time let his fingers trail adoringly over pixilated grins and the same glittering skyline from twelve different angles. Billy's skin was darker than Willie's, his smile wider and eyes a lighter shade of blue. He wore a crucifix on a beaded chain in every picture but the ones where he had just woken up, or the few Blaine had of him in a swimsuit.
There was one photo that showed Blaine, Willie and Billy all huddled together, three different skin tones all the same weird ghostly patchwork blue in the pool lights. They'd spent hours in there together, which took a lot of begging on Blaine's part, only getting out when they looked down and found their fingers had turned into cocktail sausages.
Yes, it had been a seriously good summer. There hadn't been many years Blaine could honestly have said that either. Between not being forced into a terrible part time job to fill the time, Kurt existing and meeting these wonderful people that now inhabited his contacts list I might actually go back to school moderately relaxed this year.
But now it was 8:15 the streetlights were on and if he wanted to buy lunch for tomorrow he'd have to get moving. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and wrapped his arms around himself as he got to his feet and stepped out from under the useless canopy of leaves. He started up the road happy to feel the trace of an evening breeze on his face at long last.
He didn't encounter anyone else on his slow, sweaty trek to the nearby seven-eleven this part of town always being pretty low on pedestrians late in the evening. So he was surprised to find the convenience store heaving with customers. He thought about leaving it and then about the back-to-school lunch his mother had packed him without fail every year of his life since he was four. With the thought of cream cheese sandwiches, carrot sticks, yoghurt and Planters' NUT-rition filling up his mind he felt his hoodie pocket for the folded money and then followed his taste-buds around the crowded aisles.
He'd been stood in line for five minutes when his phone vibrated again. He saw that it was 8:30 before he read the text and knew already who it would be right on time.
From Dad;
Keep an eye on the time Blaine. You have school tomorrow.
Sigh
The fact that his father texted in full sentences was an endless source of annoyance to Blaine. Glancing up and seeing the queue was still of impressive length, he flicked the screen to unlock it and pressed the messages tab. He had made a habit of typing out the response he wanted to give and deleting it before making his actual reply, it was a way of purging the sarcasm and frustration without suffering any consequences.
So his response went
Wow really! I had nooooo idea! I was gonna stay out until midnight w/ my friends doing cocaine off the back of a shared male prostitute until I received ur text! Thank u soooo much 4 saving me from a miserable morning father dearest I am eternally gr8ful!
Backspace, backspace, backspace and then
From Blaine; re Dad
Okay Sir, I won't be late.
He tucked the phone back into his pocket and shifted his basket to his other hand. There seemed to be only one cash desk open tonight and the line had not moved for several minutes. Whoever was being served either had a lot of shit to buy or was busy giving the cashier a lot of shit.
He figured he had about 10-15 minutes before he'd need to leave so he relaxed and let his mind wander.
Is there any point in bringing my phone tomorrow? It got a chip last time in that little collection box...but if I don't bring it I can't use it on breaks, I don't know. It's not a full day...not even a proper school day, maybe I won't bother... Didn't Finn work here for a little bit? Maybe that's him at the desk...I didn't see him when I came in though but it is packed in here. I hate working a place like this in the summer people are always hot and perpetually annoyed and they take it out on the cash desk. Actually that's just working places like this in general, people act like cashiers are interchangeable like robots or something...just portals of customer service with no human emotions that don't die inside every time someone yells at them about the price of eggs or something, I've never felt less like a whole person than when I was working at Costco, it's -
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Kid? You with us?"
Blaine flushed red in spite of himself, thanked the stranger hurriedly and all but threw his purchases at the bored looking cashier. Who was short and female and definitely not Finn Hudson. He checked his phone once again as he took his bag 8:40, it was just about cool enough for him to jog home.
He stopped just at the top of his road and took a moment to collect himself. He couldn't go in there all sweaty and out of breath. There would be suspicion, and interrogation, and he would look shifty and guilty even though he'd done nothing wrong because that's just what his body did after sixteen years of being in and out of trouble, and it just wouldn't end well.
Checking his reflection in his dark phone screen Blaine walked past a row of white panel houses to his own, plodded around to the back porch and slid inside. The back door led into the living room where his parents were sitting together on the couch, his Dad lying back, hands behind his head watching the TV and his mom knitting with her feet up on the footrest. She looked up when she heard him enter and smiled.
"How was your walk honey?"
"Good. It's still...pretty hot out."
"You hitting the sack now?"
It's not even 9?
"Um...I was going to just, go online for a bit..."
"Well I want you in bed reasonably early, son. And I'm sure your mother will agree with me."
Mom nodded, Blaine suppressed an eye roll
"Okay Dad."
"I mean it Blaine, you know what you're like in the mornings."
"I know Dad." Now he was getting annoyed
"In bed by ten thirty. No excuses."
"Okay." Blaine made a conscious effort to appear cooperative rather than put out. Then Mom smiled at him again and he took that as permission to leave. He escaped to his bedroom, fell gratefully into the swivel chair and booted up the computer.
Facebook was his first port of call. He checked his phone while it was loading. Billy was going to bed, Willie had run out of emojis.
From Blaine; re Willie
I'm going online 4 a bit r u on FB?
From Willie; re Blaine
Actually I'd better be getting on, got a lot to do before 2moro.
From Blaine; re Willie
Ok sum other time then
From Willie; re Blaine
Sure xx
The screen finally synced up and Blaine was immediately distracted by the first thing that came up in his feed. It was a link to download an MP3 file, posted by Kurt and labelled "Pip, Pip, Hooray!"
He didn't need to click on the file itself, having already listened to Kurt Hummel's own debut musical several times in its entirety with and without director commentary, he had at least ten mp3 files already saved of the musical in progress on his harddrive along with scraps of sheet music and voicemails of nervous humming and piano ditties. He'd joked to Kurt a few weeks ago that if he kept a diary they could easily shoot a 'making of' documentary.
Blaine scrolled down instead to read what everyone else thought.
Finn-Hudson – I guess it's pritty gd? I only know str8 music
Kurt-Elizabeth-Hummel – Srsly?
Mizz-Mercedes-Jones – It's fabulous Kurt 3
Kurt-Elizabeth-Hummel – How sweet :*
Artie-Abrams-Supreme – Tight brotha
Kurt-Elizabeth-Hummel – Ty :* (I think)
Blaine-Warbler – Artie, can i ask ab the new profile name? You sound like limited edition mcdonalds burger
Brittany-S-Pearse – I thought it meant he was one of the Supremes
Artie-Abrams-Supreme - 1. highest in rank or authority. "a unified force with a supreme commander""the supreme commander of NATO forces" most important or powerful. "on the race track he reigned supreme"
Artie-Abrams-Supreme - 2. very great or the greatest. "he was nerving himself for a supreme effort"
Blaine-Warbler – Ok...? That really doesn't clarify anything for me
Artie-Abrams-Supreme – I'm visualizing a better self image know what I'm sayin our minds believe what we tell em. If I tell myself i;m the supreme I will BE the supreme
Santana-Snixxx-Lopez – lol did ur therapist tell u that was a good idea?
Kurt-Elizabeth-Hummel – Not funny Santana
Artie-Abrams-Supreme – Look y'all if we're gonna talk embarrassing usernames wb Puck's?
Blaine-Warbler – I actually never said it was embarrassing
Puckasaurus – Don't be a h8r bro
Finn-Hudson – U been calling urself Puckasaurus since we were kids dude
Puckasaurus – Actually lets not go ther :/
Kurt-Elizabeth-Hummel – Curiosity piqued
Santana-Snixxx-Lopez – What are you hiding from us Puckerman?
Blaine leaned his forearms on the desk and let himself be sucked into the artificial light of the laptop screen. Time ticked by. The conversation moved to a group chat. Kurt and Blaine acted couple-y, Rachel attempted to shunt Finn into doing the same with poor results. The new directions enthused about a 'welcome back' surprise Mr Schuester had emailed about and Blaine started to wonder if he should sign off until Santana made a lewd comment about him and Kurt and he found himself involved again.
Blaine liked that the Mckinley guys made an effort to include him, but there was only so much they could do. He was pretty sure he was always going to be an outsider. Even if I do transfer, what happens when Kurt graduates? They're always going to be his friends more than they are mine.
Mizz-Mercedes-Jones – Well my Dad is yelling at me now. Better get to bed I suppose night babies :-*
Argh shit! Blaine looked panicked at the corner of the screen and saw it was ten twenty eight.
ssame sory! He typed hastily, punched the power button on the computer and reaching for the light switch. In the dark he fumbled off his shirt and took the bed at a flying leap, wrestling the thin summer duvet over himself and trying to look convincingly settled.
Predictably he heard footsteps on the landing only seconds later. The door cracked open;
"You asleep, Blaine?"
"Not yet, Dad."
"Ok, didn't mean to disturb you. Sleep well."
The door clicked shut. Blaine wriggled his legs out from under the covers and lay back staring at the ceiling. The room was quite peaceful. The curtains not closed all the way letting a strip of broken moonlight scatter over the bedsheets. It was cooler now. Blaine smiled and rolled onto his side, he was still in a pair of jeans. He was already dreading the early start tomorrow morning but besides that he was kind of looking forward to Warbler rehearsal. After the newness and freedom of the holiday to New York, Westerville and his family had felt horribly stifling, it would be nice to have some room to breathe again. To see his friends.
Gonna be a good year. Yeah.
With that he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.
..
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More to come - the spirit is willing...