Author's notes: This is what I do instead of studying for my finals. Priorities mean nothing to me.
"Hey, um, I'm heading out now. To meet with some people." Alex shuffled nervously at the door, not quite sure what to do. "Do you want me to grab you something from the dining hall? You know, since I'm going there anyway?"
Blaine didn't respond. He simply sat there, as he had for the past couple of hours, his chin nestled firmly in his curled palm. He'd stormed into their room some time ago, silent and fuming, refusing to tell Alex what was going on. And any attempts at conversation with his normally jovial roommate had been dismal failures. He glanced anxiously at the partly open door and gripped his hand a little tighter around the handle, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth. He didn't really know Blaine all that well, but this behavior was unnerving. The guy had been really personable up until now.
Alex shrunk back against the door a little more. "Okay then. I'll just, um, I'll get going then. I'll see you later. I guess." He slipped from the room with one final look at his glowering roommate.
The door shut softly with a gentle click, and the light that had spilled in from the hallway slunk away, plunging the room into near total darkness. Blaine hadn't realized that it had gotten to be so late. He straightened his fingers and buried his face in his palm.
It wasn't fair. Nothing was ever fair.
He knew that he was being stupid, childish. This was Kurt's decision, and really, he had no right to act like this. He shouldn't be sitting here alone in the dark, sulking like a little kid. He should be over in room 317. He should have expected this.
An all too familiar burn had crept back into his sinuses, and he wanted nothing more than to punch himself.
Fuck, he couldn't believe this. He couldn't even handle a little thing like this. His fingers crept higher to thread through his hair; he no longer cared about the gel laced throughout the thick black curls.
This was just one little thing. Why was he so upset over it? It didn't really matter in the end. He could handle it. Even if it felt like a terrible, crushing blow right now.
It was fine. This was just one thing.
He could handle this.
Blaine had been damn near insufferable the entire day, and Nick was getting tired of it. The guy hadn't been able to sit still for anything, and whenever he did, his eyes kept wandering over to any clock he could find. That or he simply ignored everyone and messed with his phone. It didn't matter how many times he checked it, a minute was still going to be the same amount of time that it had always been. After the third time Blaine's attention had wandered away during their conversation at lunch, Nick had finally had enough.
"All right, Blaine. Talk. What the heck has gotten into you today? Do you really think that looking at the clock is going to magically make time go faster? Are you really that excited for classes to start up on Monday?"
Blaine's attention snapped back to the two boys in front of him. Jeff and Nick were both looking at him rather expectantly, and a light flush colored his cheeks. Crap, he'd been doing it again. "What? I'm sorry, guys. I missed that."
Nick buried his head in his arms with a frustrated growl. He raised his eyes up to glare at Blaine, and muttered angrily at Jeff, "You see what I mean? Total spazz." He gestured at Blaine, punctuating each word with a swipe of his fingers. "I know he's not on the council anymore, but good lord. No one in their right mind could be this distracted. What do you think's gotten into him? Stress over classes already? Something about Warblers that we don't know about? Boy troubles, maybe?" he asked with a small, teasing smile and a waggle of his eyebrows.
Blaine suddenly seemed far more invested in his pasta, and Jeff fixed him with a knowing stare. He had an idea why Blaine was so antsy; he just wasn't sure how much he should share. After all, what little he knew was still technically speculation. He watched as Blaine pointedly ignored them and he shook his head. Blaine really needed to work on that. The guy said far too much, revealed far too much, with his silences. Jeff took another bite of his sandwich, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of him.
This had to be about Kurt.
He just knew it.
Blaine didn't look up, focusing on the tangle of noodles in front of him. He honestly didn't know why he'd gotten the damn thing. It wasn't as though he was actually hungry. Appearances, he guessed. He always liked to keep up appearances. At least the food was a decent distraction right now.
"No," he replied softly, twisting and untwisting bundles of noodles around his fork. "No, I'm just distracted today, that's all."
He glanced up and his eyes locked with Jeff's. "You sure there isn't anything you want to tell us, Blaine?" His voice was a little colder than necessary, but Blaine more than deserved it for storming out on him yesterday. Jeff had an idea of what was going on, but that didn't mean that he didn't want some answers. He was done playing Blaine's little game of cat and mouse.
"No," Blaine assured them, his hazel eyes never leaving Jeff. "There's nothing."
So he was still going to keep hiding. Fine. Jeff could play this game too. "Good," Jeff sniffed before he turned back to his sandwich, turning the thing around and inspecting the bread in his hands. He took a bite and looked back up, focusing once more on Blaine. "So Blaine," he mumbled around the food in his mouth, "how's Kurt?"
Blaine flinched, but Nick took no notice. "Hey, speaking of Kurt, where is everyone's favorite little spy? I don't think I've seen him yet this year. Granted, we've only been back a few days, but still." His eyes widened as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait. Now that I think about it, he wasn't there yesterday, was he? You know, at the meeting."
There was a mild clatter of ceramic and glass, and both boys turned to see Blaine jumbling all of his dishes together onto his lunch tray.
"Hey, where are you going? You barely touched that." Nick gestured at Blaine's near full plate.
"I'm not that hungry. I'll catch up with you guys later." He grabbed the edge of his tray and made to leave.
"Oh ho, so this does have something to with our little countertenor." Nick's smile was wide and predatory.
"You're delusional," Blaine muttered as he gathered up his utensils.
"Am I really, though? I'm not the one avoiding questions, leaving everything open to interpretation."
Blaine scowled. "Fine. Yes. Yes, I'm thinking about Kurt, okay? You happy now?" he spat.
"Not really, no. That still leaves so many questions unanswered. Like why he isn't here right now." He ducked his head and lowered his voice. "You don't think he transferred, do you?"
"I don't know." Jeff stared pointedly at Blaine. "You'd have to ask him."
Blaine rolled his eyes and rose from his seat. "Goodbye, Nick. Goodbye Jeff."
"So you guys were official, then?" Jeff asked softly.
Blaine stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"
"Is that why you got so upset yesterday after the meeting? Lover's spat get you all messed in the head? Trouble in paradise?"
"Wait, what? What happened yesterday?" Nick's head swiveled back and forth between the two boys, completely missing out on the exchange. "What happened? Guys? Come on, what happened. Guys?"
"It's nothing, Nick. Just eat your lunch and mind your own damn business," Blaine snapped.
"Hey, chill. He didn't do anything."
"My personal life is none of your concern, Jeff."
"Yeah, except that actually, it is," Jeff sighed. "I'd love to just give you your privacy, man, but you're really not acting like yourself. You've been out of it since we got back, and with your little announcement yesterday…we're worried about you, Blaine."
Blaine sighed, his shoulders drooping in defeat. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but everything's fine. Kurt and I were never a couple, and this isn't about a lover's quarrel or whatever stupid reason you came up with. I just…I'm worried about him. He didn't transfer, I know that, because he's supposed to come back up to campus today. I haven't heard from him in a while, and I'm worried about how he's doing. That's all."
"So what's up with him? I thought you had to have super special permission to miss the welcoming dinner." Nick puffed up his chest with an air of false importance. "It's tradition, after all." He deflated and leaned forward onto his elbows, all interest in his lunch gone. "So what's up with the little guy?"
"Kurt's been sick." Blaine lowered his eyes to the floor, his fingers gripping the plastic tray in his hands tight enough to bleach the skin white. "Really, really sick."
Jeff's expression finally softened, the realization of why Blaine was so beaten up about this sinking in. People didn't usually miss the stupid dinner with the deans unless a parent died or they were in the hospital or something. Something stupidly serious like that. Maybe that's why Pavarotti's death had shaken Blaine up so badly—the bird would definitely have been a reminder of Kurt, and if the guy was in the hospital, having the bird die might have felt like an omen or something. And everyone knew how bad Blaine had had it for Kurt. That must have been hard.
"I'm sorry, man. We didn't know."
"I know," Blaine whispered. He glanced up at the clock. "Look, I've got to go. I'll catch up with you guys later."
"Hey, Blaine?"
"Yeah?"
"If you see him, let him know we're thinking about him, okay? I hope everything's okay."
He nodded before turning away with his full tray. "It should be. Things were getting better last I heard." He stalked away from the table, and neither of the other boys made any move to stop him. He'd let them know what was going on eventually. Blaine never could keep a secret for very long.
Blaine rose from his uncomfortable seat as the pair walked in through the open door, and let a small smile grace his lips. "Kurt."
The boy looked so much thinner, so much smaller, than Blaine remembered. Even since the last time he'd seen him not three weeks ago. The jacket of Kurt's uniform didn't really fit him anymore, and his shoulders seemed to swim in the large fabric.
But he was here. He was really standing there with his dad, one of the man's large hands resting gently on his thin shoulder and a light smile spread across his face.
"Hey," he said quietly as he sat down on one of the chairs lined against the wall. His dad followed suit, keeping a close eye on his son. "I got your text from earlier. Sorry I didn't respond. I got kind of caught up with things and forgot."
Blaine shrugged and sat down beside the pair, flashing Mr. Hummel a quick smile. "It's fine. It's just really good to see you. You know, in person. Talking on the phone is good and all, but I'd much rather have the full Kurt Hummel experience." Kurt let out an amused huff of air, and Blaine leaned back in his chair. He studied the boy beside him with a critical eye, drinking in every aspect of his appearance. "So how are you doing?"
Kurt looked away, his hand rising up to fiddle with the short strands of hair beside his ear. Blaine fought the urge to grab the boy's hand and place it back into his lap where it belonged. He struggled to tear his eyes away from the twisting fingers and made himself focus on Kurt's face. Kurt wasn't actually touching his ear, and there wasn't any evidence of scratching or scars. Everything was okay. He was just overreacting. Kurt was fine.
"All right, I guess," Kurt murmured. "I'll admit that I'm not really ready for classes to start up again." He chuckled softly and smiled at Blaine. "Though I'm not sure anyone is when school starts up again in the fall. And we're seniors this year, so there's college and stuff to think about too." He startled when his dad's hand moved from his shoulder to still Kurt's ever-moving fingers.
"Kurt…" he warned gently, and Kurt lowered his hand.
"Yeah. Sorry. I forgot," he whispered. "Force of habit." But he stilled after that, his hands coming to rest folded atop one another on his lap.
His dad patted him on the back. "It's all right, bud. Just keep it in mind." He looked briefly around the empty room. "You boys think you'll be okay by yourselves for a little bit? I need to find a restroom before we get going again."
"It's no problem, dad. We'll be fine. And the closest one is just down the hall." Kurt pointed out the open door, but Burt made no move to leave.
"You sure you'll be okay? I'll only be gone for a minute."
"It's fine, dad. Go. We'll be here, hale and whole when you get back."
Burt nodded roughly and rushed from the room, intent on getting things done as quickly as possible. Kurt simply sighed and melted into his chair. "He's been like that all week."
Blaine cleared his throat to ease some of the tension that had trickled into the air over them. "So, um, what have you got left to do today?"
Kurt fell back against the soft cushioning of his chair as though he were exhausted, but his face belied no emotion. "Well, I have to get my schedule, but I think they might give that to me during our meeting later. Um, dad already informed the administrators about me, and I'm guessing all my teachers know now too." He turned his head and locked his eyes with Blaine's. "You know, in case I go psycho or something in class or have to get shipped away to the nut house again."
Blaine frowned but said nothing. He didn't really like Kurt talking about himself like that, but it wasn't really his place to say anything, so he kept quiet. It didn't sit well with him though, and he wanted nothing more than to reassure Kurt, tell him that he was wrong.
Kurt closed his eyes and tried to get his mind to work. It was so hard to focus, so hard to think nowadays. "Let's see, my dad and I still need to run over things with the nurse concerning my medication, and then there's the whole thing with rooming assignments."
"Which is why I'm here."
"Yeah."
"I put in my application, Kurt. Since it's the beginning of the year, I've got a good chance of getting reassigned."
"Hmm," Kurt hummed noncommittally. He had never been the biggest fan of Blaine's plan to have the two of them room together, but his dad seemed to like the idea, so he went along with it. If he thought about it, it might be easier to stay with the other boy since Blaine already knew everything anyway. It wasn't like there'd be any surprises. But Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that he was being monitored. He liked the Blaine well enough—heck, the guy was one of his best friends—but he knew that Blaine wouldn't stop treating him like he was made of glass. It was already getting really, really tiring, and school hadn't even started yet. He wasn't sure if he wanted to put up with that 24/7.
So what room are you in now?" Best to just not think about it. Change the subject.
"254. Do you know your room assignment?"
"317." He smiled tiredly at Blaine. "Apparently my roommate's name is Francis. If the paperwork is to be trusted, of course."
Blaine gave a tiny snort of amusement. "What do you bet he goes by a different name?"
"I don't know. 'Francis' is all right by me. Dignified," he said with a slight upturn of his nose.
"Oh really?"
"Sure." Kurt shrugged with an amused grin. "Besides, it could be a lot worse. He could be named—"
"Sorry to interrupt, boys, but we're gonna have to go, Kurt." Burt had returned, and his hand had once again taken up residence on his son's shoulder. "We need to get your meds and things dropped off before your meeting."
"Okay." He rose from his seat and turned to Blaine. "Um, I guess I'll see you soon?"
"Yeah. We're meeting with the Dean of Students in," he checked the clock, "a half hour or so, right? I'll see you then."
"Mmhmm." Kurt allowed his dad to steer him away toward the door. "I'll see you there, I guess."
"Yeah." Blaine forced a smile as Kurt was shepherded away. "I'll see you then."
"What do you mean, the request was denied?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson, but protocol dictates—"
"Protocol? Protocol allows for room changes."
"Not of the student's own choosing, Mr. Anderson. We have rooming assignments for a reason. We don't make exceptions except under very special circumstances."
"And this doesn't count?" Burt asked quietly. "Seems to me that things would be a lot safer if whoever Kurt's staying with knows about the situation."
"While I agree with that statement, Mr. Hummel, I believe that it should be up to your son as to whether or not he wishes to disclose this information to the other students. He has been okayed to return to school, so I'm afraid that you—both you and Mr. Anderson, here—appear to be overreacting. I think this should be up to Kurt."
All eyes shifted to the boy in question, who had sunk down low into his chair, trying to do his best to be as invisible as possible. "I…I'm okay with it, I guess. I don't really care who my roommate is, to be completely honest."
"But Kurt—"
"It's not your decision, Mr. Anderson. Nor is it up for debate." He turned his attention to Kurt once more. "Will you be all right to attend classes on Monday?"
"Yes, sir," Kurt all but whispered.
"Good then. Now Kurt, Mr. Anderson, please feel free to retire to the dormitories. I have a few last-minute details I need to discuss with Mr. Hummel."
Burt grabbed his son's hand as Kurt rose to leave. "Call me, okay? Any time of day or night if you feel something's not right. You know it's never a bother."
Kurt simply nodded and made his way to the door, Blaine hot on his heels. As soon as the door closed shut behind them, Blaine turned an accusatory stare on his companion. "Why didn't you back me up in there? I'm sure we could have gotten what we'd asked for if you had spoken up. I thought we were in this together."
"Because I didn't think it was that important."
"Not that important? But Kurt, we talked about this! I'm the only one of the students who knows—"
"And you treat me like an invalid!"
Blaine was taken aback by Kurt's sudden outburst. His voice caught in his throat as Kurt shrank back down and exhaustion painted his features once more. "I just want things to be normal again."
"But things are never going to go back—"
"Don't you think I know that?" Kurt's blue eyes burned with renewed anger, and his hands curled into fists as he stared down the shorter boy in front of him. "In case you hadn't noticed, Blaine, this is happening to me. Not you. So butt out," he hissed.
For several tense moments they stood there in a silent stand-off, neither one willing to back down.
"Fine," Blaine murmured, his voice deadly quiet. "Have it your way then." He turned his back on Kurt, storming down the hallway to the stairs without a second glance.
No one was there to see Kurt deflate and stumble against the wall. No one saw Kurt slide down to the floor and bury his head in his knees.
No one was there to bear witness to his shameful tears.
