AN: Presenting my first ever Glee fic! With a dash of Sebastian, a bit of angst, and a whooole lotta love!
Prologue: Courage
It's mid-October when Blaine and Sebastian find him. He's a bruised, bloody mess, and his nose is a bit crooked, although they don't know what from. His back is up against the wall as he cries into his knees, and the whole of his body is shaking from the force of his sobs.
The boy doesn't look up – not once. Not when Sebastian shrieks in surprise, not when Blaine shouts out "call 911!" as loud as his lungs will allow, not when both boys speak animatedly into one phone, not even when Blaine runs his fingers down the boy's spine in the hopes of providing comfort.
"He's like a baby bird, Blaine," Sebastian says. "We have to take care of him!"
Blaine rolls his eyes. "He's not a pet, Seb. We can't just keep him."
There are sirens in the distance, so Blaine pulls the boy into his arms, trying his best to calm him down.
"What's your name?" Blaine whispers, and of course there's no answer, but he had hoped.
"Blaine, I see the ambulance!" So, Sebastian starts waving his arms, but all Blaine can see is the boy.
"You'll be safe, soon. They'll wrap up your cuts and everything." Maybe talking to him like he would a child isn't the proper way to go about it, but the whole care-taker role is new to him, and he just wants to take the pain away.
Soon enough, though, two men are running from out of the ambulance with a stretcher between them, and it all seems a bit melodramatic, but Blaine doesn't care as long as the boy gets help. "His name?" one of them asks.
"He wouldn't tell me," Blaine responds, unable to keep his eyes off of the boy as he shakes his head at the stretcher.
"Do you think you can walk?" the other man asks. He smiles sweetly at the boy, and something unfamiliar twists in Blaine's stomach.
For a moment, the boy looks about to speak, but a new sob rips through and all he can do is nod.
"Alright, alright," the man sighs. Gently, he grabs the boy's hands and helps him up. "It's gonna be okay."
Sebastian puts his hand on Blaine's shoulder as the pair walk away.
The lone paramedic casts them a curious glance. "The police will want to speak with you when we get to the hospital, so you'll have to come along. Why don't you hop in the back? Kid looks like he needs the company."
Blaine doesn't hesitate, dragging Sebastian along with him on the way to the back of the ambulance. "I'll call my parents when we get there, okay? Don't worry!"
Sebastian sighs. "You're the only one worrying here, Blaine. Your face is all pale and everything."
"Whatever you say, Seb."
Then, they're in the ambulance, and they're all trying to get the boy to talk, but he's stubborn and refuses to do anything but cry and stare at the equipment surrounding him.
The paramedic, who introduces himself to the boy as Avery, doesn't lose his patience and manages to keep on smiling.
He keeps on looking to Blaine and Sebastian for help, but Blaine doesn't think he can do any better, and Sebastian is just helpless in general when it comes to these kinds of things.
"We don't have to say long, Seb," Blaine whispers. "We'll tell the cops what we know, and then my mom will take us home. I just…I just want to make sure he's alright, first."
Sebastian raises his eyebrows. "Getting attached, are we?"
His cheeks flush at the statement, although he's not entirely sure as to why. "He's like a baby bird, remember? We can't just leave him like this. Whoever did this must have been a pretty cruel breed of person."
"Hmm. Please tell me you're not hoping to track down the bastards who did this to him? No offense, Blaine…"
"Will you two hush?" Avery asks, smiling as he does so. He nods towards the boy, who is no longer crying quite so hard. "No need to get the kid all excited."
Blaine looks up, but regrets the decision almost instantly.
Because this boy's eyes are the prettiest blue he's ever seen and, in the dark, it was impossible to see just how fair and handsome he actually is.
Plus, the bruises crawling across his jaw and through the cuts in his shirt are so much worse than Blaine had first though. There's dried blood cracked around his nose, and his lip is still leaking fresh crimson from a ragged cut.
When Sebastian throws an arm around his shoulder, he welcomes the chance to turn away. Why would anyone want to hurt him? He's just so delicate looking. Like porcelain…
He doesn't like that simile.
Because porcelain breaks.
And already, the thought of anything more happening to this boy scares the hell out of him.
Blaine watches the policeman walk away with sore, tired eyes.
It took an hour for the officer to show up, and even longer for his and Sebastian's questioning.
His mother sits beside him, watching him with a disapproving frown as he sips at his cheap, low-grade coffee. Sebastian holds his left hand, squeezing it reassuringly every now and then. He doesn't mind the comfort.
Because the image of the boy still haunts him.
"You'll be up all night," his mother scolds gently, just before taking the cup to take a swig herself. "Goodness, this is disgusting!"
He smiles, but it's half-hearted.
"Look honey, I know you're upset, but I'm sure this boy – whoever he is – will be just fine! He's in good hands now, sweetheart."
"I know but…"
"Blaine," she cuts him off. "This is not your problem, okay? What happened to him is a real shame, but it's not your fault."
"Agreed!" Sebastian chirps. "I know you want to check on him…"
"We are not leaving this hospital until I've seen, with my own eyes, that his boy is in perfect health!" he snaps in turn, made irritable by the late hour and his throbbing head.
No one seems to blame him, although they do seem a bit put-out by his aggression.
"Mr. Anderson?" A small woman with grey hair and tired eyes steps before him, smiling cautiously. "He's up and his family's gone off for a snack. I'm afraid you don't have too much time but…"
Before she can finish, he pushes past her and heads off down the hallway he saw the nurse leading the boy down earlier. His palms are a bit sweaty, and his heart is beating a bit faster, but the pain in his skull has somewhat receded.
When he reaches the room, he pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. If it's been a long night for himself, then he can't even begin to image how the other boy is feeling. Blaine just wants his name. That's all.
"Blaine, right?"
He jumps a bit as the voice washes over his senses, musical and high-pitched in a way that wouldn't work on anyone but him. The room starts to spin, but Blaine can blame it on cheap coffee and sleep deprivation.
"How'd you know?"
The boy smiles, and maybe it doesn't reach his eyes, but it's still one of the most beautiful things Blaine's ever seen. "The cops wanted to make sure I knew the name of my savior. My knight in shining armor and all that."
Blaine nods, unable to form words.
Already, the boy looks so much better. His cuts are all cleaned up – the blood washed away just enough to reveal fresh patches of creamy skin. His eyes are rimmed red from crying so hard, but at least the tears are gone.
"Are you okay?" the boy asks. "You look a little lost."
Blaine takes a deep, steadying breath, but it does little to snub the sudden spark of anger that comes with the knowledge that another person actually did this to the boy. A human being who was supposed to have morals.
"Look," he stars, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on the balls of his feet. "I don't know you well enough to ask questions, and I guess it's too late to help but…" Looking around, he practically lunges for the small pad of paper and pen at the boy's bedside table. Scribbling his cell number down quickly, he mumbles, "If anyone ever tries something like this again, I want you to call me. I might not know your name…"
"Kurt," the boy says quickly. "I-I'm Kurt."
Something about the name makes Blaine smile. "Well, Kurt, if…if you need to talk, call me, okay? Or text me. Or…whatever"
And he doesn't want to leave.
He wants to stay all night just to make sure that the boy – Kurt – is okay.
But they don't know each other. They're perfect strangers thrown into the oddest of situations by fate's hand.
He can't stay.
He doesn't have the right.
Kurt takes the offered paper with shaking fingers, and Blaine's heart practically shatters to pieces right there.
Slowly, after their fingers brush, he leans until his lips are by Kurt's ear. "Courage, Kurt. Just have Courage."