Blaine doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.

A/N: Major non-con warning


Part 2

Dear Blaine,

I thought you'd do something for Valentine's Day. I'll be honest - I was upset for a while that you didn't. But then I realized maybe your card got lost in the mail or something and I didn't want to be that guy who makes assumptions out of nothing. You mean too much to me for that. Sorry this card took so long.

Kurt

Blaine pinned Kurt's card to the display board on his bedroom wall. Although, it was two weeks late – and that said plenty – it was the handwritten 'love' that made him want to treasure the note. At first, he'd thought the card might've been from… but, no, it was Kurt's writing on the envelope.

He truly hated himself for forgetting to send Kurt a gift for Valentine's Day. He'd spent so long trying to decide between the new cookware Kurt had been wanting, the blue scarf he'd seen at the mall, and the option of making something on his own. Kurt had loved his gum-wrapper ring, but Blaine thought it might've been too much for an ex-boyfriend to receive a homemade gift like that. There was, of course, the McQueen jacket. But was that too much, as well?

Blaine had spent so much time debating. And then, he'd just… forgotten.

He'd been so excited about having a potential admirer that he'd forgotten everything else, forgotten Kurt. The first time that happened, he'd hurt Kurt unimaginably by doubting their forever. The second time, he'd ended up hurting himself in a way he couldn't escape.

He knows he didn't deserve it; not even cheating on Kurt warranted that sort of punishment. No, nobody ever deserves that pain, but a large part of him feels like he had it coming – karma or something.

Reclining on his bed, Blaine glides the pad of his finger across the first note - You're beautiful when you sing as if he could erase the message if he pressed down on the ink hard enough.

He feels like such an idiot.

The mascot was wrong. The mural in the work-out room depicted a Roman warrior, not a Titan as their team names implied. Titan, Roman Soldier: two different things. Despite its historical inaccuracy, the mascot wasn't really as bad as it could've been – it gave them plenty of reasons to use the color red. Red was, after all, the color of the Roman Army: the darker the colors worn, the higher the status of the officer. Different dyes. Dark colors were more expensive.

But red was a power color – it made their teams seem more menacing.

When Isaac backed away from the wall, Blaine had tried to make a get-away, but Isaac had simply thrown him to the ground and held him with his own weight, slamming Blaine's face to the floor as punishment for the "rudeness." The damn mascot was the only thing Blaine could see or think about as his body was pounded into the ground, restrained by Isaac's solid muscle and slick with lube (Blaine didn't want to think about what it meant that Isaac just carried it around with him) and trembling around the pain in his ass.

Like a Roman officer would be pumping iron anyway. They didn't need to with the weight of the armor and the packs they carried. Their training was more about marching and formations, not body building.

Blaine wished that somebody – anybody besides the Titan-but-actually-Roman-Soldier – would come in and stop it. But it seemed that no one wanted to be in the school building afterhours on a Thursday. It must've been half-off appetizers day at Breadstix.

After he finished and withdrew himself from Blaine, Isaac clutched Blaine's body to his chest and whispered tenderly in his ear. "You were so good, Blaine. So ready. You were magical." They were words so contrary to what had just happened that bile stirred in Blaine's stomach. He felt Isaac crying into the skin of his back, but Blaine himself was heavy and numb.

"So beautiful." And with a kiss, Isaac left him bleeding and whimpering there, his clothes thrown haphazardly across the room and his body feeling just as sullied.

It seemed like eternities, but after a few minutes the clouds faded from behind Blaine's eyes, and he hurled himself into the bathrooms where he explosively threw up his entire lunch while he sobbed.

He usually didn't wash at school because of all the stories Kurt had told him about McKinley's showers, but Blaine couldn't turn on the hot water fast enough, scrubbing his skin raw and scraping at phantom touches.

He plucked his clothes from the floor, dressed himself, and tossed his black boxing gloves into the nearest trash can. They'd completely betrayed him.

He couldn't stand being in this room. With one last look at the silent Titan who'd seen everything, Blaine went home, burned his clothes, and showered again.

And again.

It's the sound of his phone ringing that pulls Blaine out of the flashback. It's "Teenage Dream" so he knows its Kurt, but the distance between his bed and his desk, and the fact that he is still hurting two days later…

But he made a promise to always pick up Kurt's calls, so Blaine limps to the desk and answers his phone.

"Kurt?"

"Blaine? Are you okay? You sound-"

"Fine," he says, carefully sinking down to rest on his desk chair. And to divert Kurt's attention, Blaine continues, "I got your card today."

"Really! That was fast. I'm sorry it was so late, though. I needed to find the perfect one and then I never got your card and I started second guessing myself but I needed you to know that you still matter and I-"

"Kurt, you're rambling."

"Sorry," Kurt giggles. "Anyway I just wanted to make you smile. Did it work?" There is silence as Blaine thinks about how he'd lost all color when he originally saw the envelope and how he still feels intensely guilty for forgetting Kurt on Valentine's Day. Kurt deserves his honesty.

"Yeah, Kurt. I have to be truthful, though. Uh- your card didn't get lost in the mail. I didn't get you a card. I –um – got distracted with school things and lost track of my days. I'll make it up to you though!" Technically it's not a lie. "I'll take you out to lunch next time you come home." Gives him something to look forward to.

"Oh, that sounds good, Blaine. I was worried that you might have avoided me on purpose, you know? I just really don't want to lose you. I know that now, and I was scared more than angry. But it's just a silly card. "

It's never just a silly anything with Kurt, but Kurt is too forgiving sometimes.

"As long as we're okay. So, are you less stressed now, though? With school?" Kurt asks.

"What? Oh yeah. I had a test yesterday, though," Blaine says. And, in fact, he doesn't remember anything he wrote. He doesn't even remember whether it was short answer or Scantron.

It was a chemistry test, and he was there.

"I'm sure you did fine. Anyway, I just have to tell you why I called in the first place. So I went shopping today and I found this adorable fabric store. And I have it down to two patterns, but I really want your opinion on…"

The chair was uncomfortable, so Blaine moved to his bed to ease the pain. He grinned as Kurt prattled on about the clothes he wanted to make, because it showed that he was starting to trust Blaine again. Before Kurt had gotten the job at Vogue, even before that when they were still at McKinley together, they'd call each other all the time with trivial day-to-day gossip and stories. It felt very much like Kurt was rekindling that tradition, hinting that it was once again okay for Blaine to call for random reasons.

It seemed a step toward forgiveness.

Blaine wanted to be able to love this, treasure this moment forever. But, through Kurt's speech, Blaine's phone kept beeping in his ear, signifying someone trying to call in. The caller was relentless, dialing in again immediately after the unanswered first call.

So Blaine pressed his eyelids against the tears forcing through and gripped his hair and tried to focus on Kurt's voice as his body shuddered in fear and disgust through waves of agony. How could the world keep spinning steadily for everyone else and for Kurt, when Blaine felt like it was trying to fling him off towards the edge of space?

Long after Kurt had ended the call, Blaine remained curled on his bedspread, listening to the silence of an empty house and wishing Kurt had been enough to make him forget. His phone continued buzzing on his bed, flashing the number he'd tried to ignore but knew anyway. Eventually, he turned his phone off and cried himself into a haunted sleep.


Sunday morning after Kurt's call, he'd found his phone blown up with calls, and even more text messages from Isaac worrying about him and wondering where he was. But on Monday morning, Blaine finds another note in his locker:

I understand why you needed the weekend – I did too. I know you're overwhelmed just like I am but it's okay. We're okay. You need to answer next time though because I missed you.

It's kind of fun having a secret romance. DON'T TELL!

Can't wait to see you today. Love you.

Blaine has no idea what to do anymore. He knows that Isaac is sick and dangerous and terrifyingly unaware of how wrong his actions are, but he can't think about any of this logically. He can't even think about it in general because he knows he won't make it through the school day if he does.

So Blaine does the only thing he can, and escapes to the choir room to play the piano. Immediately after, he goes to Mr. Schue's office to confirm his resignation from Glee for real. And this time, it's not because he's scared of what Isaac will do – well he is, but that's not the main reason – it's because he honestly doesn't think he could stomach having to sing ever again.

Finn, still technically a staff member even as co-supervisor of New Directions, comes up to him after his first period, and for a moment Blaine thinks that someone cared enough to ask questions about why he'd been quitting his extracurriculars, sitting alone at lunch, refusing to participate in classes…

He doesn't understand why no one notices, when Blaine himself feels so different. But he's always been close to Finn and his family, so maybe he could tell. Even a "Why did you leave Glee?" would be enough, but, then again, Blaine isn't sure if he can handle revealing the truth.

Finn slams his hand in the locker beside Blaine's, making him flinch, and speaks. "What the hell, man? You were supposed to take Burt to the doctors Friday! He almost missed his treatment because I had a staff meeting."

Blaine's panic subsides, replaced by intense disappointment in himself. The Hummels had always been so good to him, and he promised Kurt that he'd help them. He should've been there.

It seems he can't do anything right.

"I –uh – I'm so sorry, Finn. I meant to be there," Blaine murmurs. He can't remember a thing he did on Friday night.

"Dude, you're usually so good about this. What happened?"

And Blaine knows this is his moment, knows that telling Finn right now could change everything. This is it. But he sees Isaac's notes piled in his locker and he feels so stupid having to explain how he was once excited to receive them, and the words just don't come out.

"I f-forgot," he stammers. He absolutely hates himself.

Finn rolls his eyes. "Well, Mom is worried so she says you have no choice but to be at Friday Night Dinner this week. If she can forgive you, then so can I. Just don't let it happen again. Ok?"

"Y-Yeah. Okay"

"Oh! So, I found these in the Lost-and-Found this morning," Finn says, digging around in his gym bag. "You might want to do whatever you do to wash them, though. I asked the janitor about them and apparently they were in the trash before he rescued them."

Blaine is unsurprised when Finn hands him his boxing gloves. He wants to die, though.

"Thanks, Finn," he says, forcing himself to smile, though he feels the dirt of that afternoon seeping into his skin where the gloves are touching him.


He thinks Chemistry is going to be the hardest for him, having to be in the same room as him, and breathing the same air. But it's not.

Because Isaac sits behind him, Blaine is able to pretend that he can't feel the dangerously loving stare of the boy. So he sits stiffly, refusing to move his gaze from his notebook where copying formulas is monotonous enough to lull him into detachment.

No, it's not Chemistry that is the hardest. It's gym class. He spirals into a full panic attack when Coach Beiste reveals that they are having class in the weight room . Pride pushes him to smother his fear, but it rears back full force when Blaine steps into the room and sees the stupid mascot, watches frozen as his peers walk all over the place where it happened.

And he can't speak or breathe because he can hear his own voice bouncing from wall to wall.

I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control