Author's Note: Started this ages ago and never got around to posting it up.
He stares down at the faint impressions on each of his wrists.
They had finally started to grow bolder, some of the letters now legible for the first time in his seven years of existence. This was the case for everyone. They were born into life with predetermined fates and Kurt Hummel was no exception. Well, he was almost classified as "no exception." While everyone possessed one perfect combination of a first and last name… Kurt's wrists bore two.
He stares down at his wrists again and ponders.
Curiosity often frees itself from his precious little mind and allows him to verbalize each of his concerns. How was he meant to find the owners of these names? Was he meant to seek them out? Or, rather, would they come to him instead? What if there were multiple souls with the same name—how would he know which was the right one?
"Such heavy questions for a boy of seven," his father always tells him.
Kurt can make out the still somewhat faint markings of an intricate scripted "B " and an "A " on his right wrist, the letter "S" is repeated just as intricately on his left; all of the in between letters are still far too light to fully decipher. He checks everyday for notable change, but his father informs him that until puberty it will still be near impossible to read. And so, impatiently, Kurt waits.
His father, Burt, like everyone else, possesses only one name combination and zero absolute explanations for Kurt. He chalks it up to the possibility that Kurt can choose which of the two he wants, a luxury that others are not blessed with. He speculates kindly, offering only the happiest and sweetest possibilities to his boy.
But Kurt is not the average boy of seven and as he grows older his thoughts take a darker approach. But then again, when your mother leaves this earth at your ripe old age of nine it's damn near impossible to keep from slipping into cynicism. While watching his father bite his cheeks to keep from crying at the funeral, the pessimistic thought takes hold of Kurt.
Perhaps the second name on his wrist means that he is fated to experience the same tragedy, the same loss, as his father. In the case of a loss of one, well… here's the other. He doesn't take any comfort in this idea at all. These were fellow human beings who should be treated with the same amount of affection as anyone else; the thought of one of the names on his wrist being a possible consolation prize, a back-up in case of catastrophe, leaves him feeling dizzy and nauseous. He keeps this one to himself rather than express his concerns to his grieving father. His downtrodden father whose spirit is now broken with the absence of the only one he was fated for.
Kurt decides then and there that this world of prearranged soul mates is cruel and wonders if a place of free will even exists in some other galaxy.
Such heavy thoughts for a boy of nine.
The cynicism and darkness follows him all throughout middle school as he watches classmates effortlessly partner off. He is a late bloomer and the only hints he has to go on still are the more prominent "B " "A " "S" and "S." He keeps his wrists covered to avoid further torment from the others. But they pay him no mind. The bitter truth of it all is that the majority of them are only concerned about the names they seek out. In a world so obsessed with "love" and "forever after" Kurt finds it silly that no one has any time for friendship. He coasts through middle school with a cumbersome heart and enough friends to count on one hand.
Even though he didn't think it possible, high school is much worse. The halls are filled with such blatant PDA that he actually gags when he passes by the couples on display. They shoot him dirty looks and call him jealous and bitter because he's still alone. And it shouldn't hit him so hard, but it does. His acrimony reaches a new level and he considers filling in the spaces between the bold, capital letters with a pen just to at least appear a little normal to the rest of them.
In addition to his peers' alienation, he manages to attract the attention of a certain individual who has no clue how to channel his anger. Dave Karofsky first introduces himself to Kurt with a forceful shove followed by a, "Watch where you're going, fag." It takes everything within Kurt to keep his poor spirit from being crushed under the weight of all of this teen pressure.
Karofsky's degree of torture escalates from forceful shoves once he actually learns Kurt's name. Pretty soon Kurt is being spit on, thrown into dumpters, pelted with food, and "accidentally" tripped in addition to the usual shoving and name-calling. He keeps his head high and refuses to give in though; he may label himself as some sort of freak for the two names on his wrists, but he'll be damned if he lets anyone else tear him down the way he does all on his own.
He doesn't question Karofsky's actions. In fact, he barely gives him the time of day. After being shoved, he simply stands up, brushes his clothes off, and walks away. Karofsky stares after him, always half in anger and half in wonderment, and punches a nearby locker. Kurt's indifference makes his blood boil and he can't comprehend how his skinny classmate has the ability to just walk away without uttering a single word.
His only saving grace is the Glee club he attends after school. But even still, sometimes he feels like a stranger among friends. Even they're all pairing off amongst themselves, reveling in the serendipity of finding each other. He does feel at home with this band of misfits, but something is still missing and he isn't sure if he'll find it amongst them.
One day in particular, he walks into a meeting where the topic of talk is an all-boys prep school meant to be their rivals in an upcoming competition. The subject of "spying" surfaces and all eyes settle on Kurt. He stammers a string of incomplete excuses but somehow still manages to find himself descending a spiral staircase amongst a sea of blue blazers. He sticks out like a sore thumb and he and everyone around him knows it.
Kurt spots the back of a boy's head, some black curls springing free from a lazy gel style, and tries to get his attention.
"Excuse me? Excuse me!" he raises an arm, his falsetto voice garnering attention from a few other onlookers. The black haired boy spins around and stray curls are replaced with a fluffy comb over. He raises his eyebrows at Kurt inquisitively. "Sorry, I'm uh… I'm a little lost, see I'm new here and," Kurt can't stop staring into his perfect hazel eyes, "What's going on? Where's everybody going?"
The boy smiles, knowingly, and his hazel eyes sparkle magnificently, "To see the Warblers rehearse, of course!"
"This school is… into that sort of thing?" Kurt asks, shocked, thinking of all of the unwarranted bullying and attention being in Glee club at McKinley has brought on for him and his fellow members.
"Uhhh, yeah!" he responds with a chuckle. "Come on," he takes Kurt's hand in his own and leads him off. Kurt stares down at their hands for only a second before they break into a run down an empty hall and into a room already filled with people.
"About time!" one of the boys standing in the middle of the room exclaims and Blaine releases Kurt's hand, flashing him a smile as he backs up towards the group of boys to get into position. Kurt watches with wide eyes as they launch into song and dance around the room. He can't force his mind to focus on the fact that these are meant to be his rivals, that he's here strictly to spy and report back to McKinley; all he can focus on is the way this nameless beauty seems to be staring straight at him, as if he were serenading him personally.
Kurt thinks about how his "misfortune" of being elected spy of the group is turning out to be really rather fortunate after all.
After the performance, Kurt still can't stop staring. He feels giddy, drunk off of something much more powerful than alcohol. He's unaware of his surroundings until he somehow manages to find himself sitting at a table with the black haired boy and another student and is being called out for spying. Suddenly he crash-lands back into his body and looks from face to face, terrified.
"So who sent you?" still nameless, hazel-eyed beauty asks.
"I'm uh," Kurt clears his throat, "Well, I'm from McKinley. But I-I'm sorry. I- "
Hazel-eyes smiles and Kurt relaxes a little, "I sort of figured it out back on the staircase."
"So then why did you bring me to your rehearsal?" Kurt's unsure if he's actually in trouble or not.
"Because he loves to show off," the boy beside hazel-eyes smirks. "Don't you, babe?" he rests his hand on top of the black haired boy's and Kurt feels a flutter of wings suddenly stop in his stomach.
"I don't mean to be rude, but um…" he tries to think of some subtle phrasing, but comes up with none, "Is everyone in the school gay?" Kurt can't fathom why else everyone would be so respectful of each other.
The two boys before him exchange a look and laugh. "Well, we are. But no, not everyone. There's zero tolerance for bullying here though." Kurt nods solemnly in response. "God, where are my manners? I'm Blaine, by the way. Blaine Anderson. And this is- "
"Sebastian Smythe," the boy beside Blaine offers his hand out to Kurt. But Kurt doesn't take it right away; he's still caught up on the mention of a "zero tolerance policy regarding bullying" statement. Suddenly his eyes are misting over and the weight of how bothered he actually is by Karofsky's bullying settles firmly on his chest. "Woah, uh," Sebastian looks to Blaine, who is studying Kurt like he understands perfectly about the unmentioned source of Kurt's emotional state.
"Sorry," Kurt turns his gaze down to the table and dabs at his eyes with the end of his sleeve. "Sorry, I…" he dabs at his eyes again and Blaine interjects.
"You having a tough time back at your school?"
Sebastian looks to Blaine, as if wondering how he could have ever drawn that possible conclusion without a single word from Kurt to go on, but when he looks back to Kurt he understands how. Kurt's let loose a few more tears, unable to catch them all and soak them up with his cotton sleeves, and Sebastian replays the conversation in his head to locate the exact moment Kurt had started to feel upset. Blaine was always reminding him how unobservant he was, how completely oblivious to things when they initially happened. Truth be told, Sebastian had been too busy focusing on the way Kurt stared at Blaine; his jealousy was the only culprit today in regards to his "obliviousness."
"Glee club isn't exactly… cool back at my school," Kurt sniffles and Sebastian searches his pockets until he's able to produce a tissue for him. Blaine squeezes Sebastian's thigh under the table and flashes a brief smile. Kurt takes it and blows his nose before continuing, "And there's this… this guy that just, he's always had it out for me and I don't know why. And it's like everyone is just… blind to it. Nobody notices because nobody wants to notice, you know?"
Sebastian doesn't know, but Blaine nods in agreement with Kurt. "Yeah, I know what that's like. I used to get bullied at my last school, uh…"
"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," he offers meekly so Blaine can continue with his explanation.
"Kurt," the name sounds so natural slipping off of his tongue like that, "But I ran from them. I came here and… to this day I… regret it. If I could go back, if I could change it, I would have stood up to them." Blaine's hand searches for Sebastian's under the table until their fingers are entwined and he's anchored himself to the boy beside him. Sebastian knows how painful it is for Blaine to revisit these memories, knows that usually the only ways to calm Blaine down once he's back in his old mindset are to let him take it out on a punching bag or let him top in bed. The crushing grip Blaine has on Sebastian's hand would have to do for now though.
"Do you think that's what I should do? Stand up to him?" Kurt clutches the soppy tissue in his fist and stares at Blaine for an answer as though he is some sort of messiah to him.
"Do you think it's what you should do?" Blaine loosens his grip on Sebastian's hand. "Consider it: would you feel better running or taking a stand? I can't tell you what to do, I'm only telling you what I wish, everyday, that I had done."
Kurt nods and Sebastian can't bring himself to view Kurt as a threat anymore. Not now anyways. The way he sees it, this could be good for Blaine as well: helping Kurt overcome the demons that Blaine obviously still battles with everyday. So Sebastian bites his tongue and keeps his mouth shut when Blaine releases his hand and stands up to hug Kurt and bid him, "Farewell," and "Good luck!" with his signature flashy grin of encouragement.
Once Kurt is out of view though Sebastian turns to Blaine, "You know… the rest of the guys won't be happy we let a spy go without consequences."
Blaine shrugs in response, "What'll they do, kick us out?"
Sebastian sneers and pulls Blaine down onto his lap, "Like hell they will. They know they couldn't last a single competition without us." He plants a delicate kiss on Blaine's cheek but Blaine's currently miles away with Kurt's name buzzing around his head enough to make him dizzy.
Please review if you liked. There will be more to come.
