A/N: So now we get to have a little glimpse of how the other side lives!
Warnings: Blaine has a lot of feelings – and not all of them are particularly happy.
Thanks to those how alerted and favourited once again! Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Glee is (unfortunately) owned by somebody else.
Suddenly there is nothing but escape, the view of the earth racing beneath him and the steady thrumming of feet against ground. Blaine is running for his life.
He ducks beneath fences, skirts around cars, hurdling anything that isn't worth running around. He pays no head to any possible threat, the fear of the creatures that live amongst the ruin momentarily stilled in his desperate rush to escape from this place, from himself…from Him…
Blaine barely notices as buildings begin to give way to stunted bushes, which in turn give way to the muted beginnings of the forest. Vines consume cars like pythons, and trees thrust through already falling walls. As his feet continue to pound the earth, the chaos behind him begins to fade away. He doesn't slow his pace until his bounding pulse threatens to block out all other noises and the edges of his vision begin to blur, creating a world of spinning green and undulating brown. He comes to a halt, hands on knees, his breath ragged and coarse.
He has hardly begun to breathe normally again before the images of the morning's confrontation once again begin to intrude across his mind. The beasts, the sorcerers…what he has done…
Stumbling towards a clump of bushes Blaine feels the acid tang begin to build in his throat, and promptly empties his stomach – over and over again. When he is finally spent, a sheen of sweat across his body causing him to shiver in the morning air, he slumps to the ground and crawls over to rest his back against a tree. He curls his knees towards him, hugging them close, and lays his brow to rest upon them, trying to still his mind and forget his terror for this moment at least. After a few minutes of calming breaths he begins to feel better – his pulse begins to slow and he feels the rest of his body return to normal.
What happened to him this morning? What madness drove him into that city? Blaine tries to remember the events that led him on this path to near-end and finds himself grasping at nothing.
He remembers waking early, whilst it was still dark, and feeling a sense of purpose. For the first time in a long while he had awoken without the immediate desire to return his head beneath the covers and push the future away. He had woken with an idea – a chance to show his affection to one who loved him dearly and a chance to prove to himself that fear was no longer his master. The next day would be Nick's birthday and Blaine wanted to paint him something spectacular. But somehow the dull wooden plaques and stone tablets he usually used as a canvas seemed lacking – he wanted to find something special…something only the once-city could offer.
So somehow Blaine had found himself wandering through his own personal hell, in the dark, wondering all the time what he could possibly be doing. So many times he had made to turn back, but something had pushed him onwards – some desperate part of him wanted to see it through. He had been so careful at first, gripping his tiny knife like his only salvation, and running from every sound or shift in light. It was only as the sky began to lighten, revealing more of the once-city around him, that he felt a small flash of bravery spark within. He was doing this for Nick – to prove to his friend that he was the person he used to be.
Blaine wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew it when he saw it – a soft glint, reflecting light from the first morning sun. Most of the cars in the ruins were burnt, rusted shells with hardly an intact piece of metal amongst their decomposition. But this car had one remaining hub cap, which shone and beckoned to him. Taking in a deep breath Blaine had gingerly picked his way through the remains of a wire fence and into the shadow of a huge, windowless building. So consumed by the prize in front of him, so elated by his discovery, he didn't take the time to look around him – to see the things that shouldn't be missed. How could he have been so stupid.
Blaine drops his head back onto his knees in frustration at the memory. He could have been killed - he would have been killed, if it hadn't been for…
The hub cap was barely damaged – a little bent around the edges and slightly rusted, it had been mostly preserved from the ravages of time and decay by a bank of dirt. Blaine used his hands to scrape away most of it, revealing a perfect surface for painting, with a little bit of work. He had used the tip of his knife, mostly blunt anyway, to pry the thing away from the wheel mechanism with surprising ease. He held it gently in his hands as he began to imagine the form of his work. It would be special – Nick would love it, he would forgive him for…
The sound of footsteps had jolted him back to his reality – he could see two figures, dressed all in black, stalking towards the building. Quickly he had dropped behind the remains of the car, clutching the hub cap to his chest in an attempt to silence his bounding heart. He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat, the panic threatening to constrict his throat. Sorcerers from the Black Tower - the masters of everything evil in this mess of a world. What if they had seen him? What would they do? Oh God, oh God! He was going to die…he was going to…
And then he heard it, the low rumble of something most definitely not human. If it was even possible to do so, Blaine felt his heart beat faster, threatening to tear through his chest in its bid to escape. He had scrunched his eyes tight, trying to shut out the madness. He was going to die – be ripped to pieces by a sorcerer-controlled beast.
A full throated roar sounded from behind him, followed by sounds of…some sort of battle? It took him several seconds of controlled breathing to summon the courage to look out from behind the car. He almost darted right back again at the sight before him – the sorcerers were fighting the creature. Why would they want to fight something of their own design and control? Blaine was confused and terrified – he wanted to run from there as fast as he could…but he could not bring any part of himself to move. He cried out softly as one of the sorcerers was knocked to ground by the beast, and he could not bring himself to tear his eyes away as the beast stalked towards him…him, not 'it' – the look in his eyes seemed too human as the thing approached, muzzle widened in a grotesque grin of pleasure…Blaine slammed his eyes shut – he could not watch this…
Only to open them again at the beast's roar of frustration – the man, or boy – he looked so young – was unharmed. Blaine watched, pulse slowing slightly, as the young sorcerer pushed himself to his feet and drew his weapon, lighting it on fire. The rest of the battle was over quickly, and soon Blaine had found himself staring open-mouthed at the enormous corpse of the beast. The sorcerers continued to move towards the building, and Blaine decided to take his chance to escape – human-looking or not, these men could kill him with a glance, and something within seemed to be telling him to try and stay alive.
Still clutching his hub cap, he was about to make his exit when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. A sleek, black shape was approaching the fence from the streets beyond, moving fast towards the two sorcerers, who were still staring intently at a hole burrowed beneath the building. Blaine was torn with indecision – he was terrified of all three forms, but two looked human – two had just slaughtered one of the beasts that stalked the lives of the people he loved. He cannot watch anyone die…not again…
Blaine could see no alternative. If he shouted a warning he would bring attention from both parties to himself. He looked back to the sorcerers…or sorcerer now. Only one was standing at the edge of the hole – the young-looking one, so nearly slaughtered not minutes earlier. The black shape was coming faster now, its tail undulating from side to side as it crossed the uneven ground easily. And so Blaine made his choice – he did what he always does…he ran…
Wrenched back to the present by the horror of that decision, Blaine can feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, pooling in his eyelids to spill down to wet the knees of his trousers. He still has no idea what really made him do what he did, made him run out into the path of death to knock the boy-sorcerer into the hole – only that, in that moment, Blaine had not wanted him to die.
The next thing he remembers is crouching behind the corner of the building, shaking uncontrollably. He could not bring himself to move – could not force himself to see what had followed him. At any moment he expected to see that black face peering around the corner – tongue flicking out to taste his fear. But there was nothing, only silence. Trying to control his breathing, Blaine closed his eyes, stealing himself for what he knew he must do. As the last vestiges of courage were deserting him, he thrust his head around the corner to face his doom.
The sight that met his eyes chilled him to the bone. The lizard was on the ground, mere metres from the sorcerers, who seemed frozen in position, completely unmoving. In seconds it would have been upon them – grasping, ripping, devouring. He had felt it again – the sudden compulsion to do something – to save somebody, even as cowardly as he is. Mind grasping for ideas Blaine suddenly felt it, still clutched to his chest – the reason for all his misadventure this day. Without a second to think of the consequences he hurled it as fast as he could towards the lizard.
He didn't know how long he waited for death that time. He cannot remember the thoughts that crashed through his mind as he stilled himself for the inevitable – for the end that never came. A high pitched shriek had forced him, against his better judgement, to look at the scene again, only to be just in time to see the taller sorcerer deal the final blow. It was over – and Blaine was still alive. It was with this thought in mind, in a joy of survival-induced stupor, that Blaine took a step forward, cracking a piece of wood beneath his foot – drawing the eyes of the sorcerers directly towards him.
Looking back, safely curled within the embrace of the woods, it is the eyes Blaine remembers. When he tries to think of a single reason why he would abandon all thought of safety to advance towards them, all he can think of is the pull of those eyes – piercing cobalt blue, with flashes of light and dark moving together. They spoke of something infinitely better than mere safety and assurance – of life without fear…of comfort, and…
Then he remembers running. Then he remembers retching. Now all he can think of is home, and Nick…he has to find Nick.
Something about all of this does not sit with what Ari and Nick have told him…have told all of them. The sorcerers are supposed to control the beasts – they unleash their cruelty on the dwindling world of men to sate their thirst for destruction and death. But there they were, fighting, killing the arm with which they are supposed to wield their violence. The boy-sorcerer looked almost as scared as Blaine was, when he was about to meet his end. And the kind words, the eyes that spoke of something…more…
Blaine can no longer believe the sorcerers are the cause of this ruin. They are just like him – locked in a tower or hiding in the forest, it all amounts to the same thing – they are all at the mercy of this world of hell, tiny specs of dust tumbling through a turbulent sky.
Whatever Nick and Ari believe to be the truth, they must be made aware of what he has seen. And for that Blaine has to find Nick…if he can stop himself shaking…and then somehow get off the ground.
He takes a few calming breaths and attempts to gather himself in preparation for standing up, but before he can do anything more he hears the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps behind him. His nerves completely spent, Blaine jumps to his feet in a panic, turning around him to find the source of the noise. He backs away from the sound, scrambling desperately for his knife to use as a meagre weapon. He trips over a tree root as he does so, landing sprawled on his back in the dirt. All Blaine can do to protect himself is to curl into a ball, a spineless porcupine in the dirt – and he hates himself for it.
The footsteps slow as they come closer, softening to a whisper when he can feel the creature standing above him. Blaine is surprised as whatever it is chooses to sit down quietly beside him and decides to chance a look from between his fingers.
"Oh, Blaine," Nick says, and Blaine flinches at the mingling tones of love and pity in his voice.
Nick places a hand gently on Blaine's shoulder, pulling him upwards into a kneeling position, using his other hand to wipe the dirt and curls out of the shorter boy's face.
"Where have you been? I…I came to get you for breakfast, and you were gone. I thought you might have…" he pauses as Blaine's eyes drift away from him, looking over his shoulder towards the once-city "…gone," he finishes, his voice oddly flat.
Blaine cannot bring himself to look at Nick directly – he wants to see nothing of the parts of himself that he will see reflected back at him. He is scared, ashamed and confused. But he also has a purpose now, small as it may be.
"I went into the city," Blaine says, eyes still fixed over Nick's shoulder, "I saw…I saw…"
What did he see? Monsters, sorcerers, cobalt-blue eyes that spoke of hope…
But his thought remains unfinished at the hiss that escapes from Nick's mouth "You did what?" his voice is so quiet that Blaine can barely hear it, but he can feel his anger none the less. When Blaine still refuses to look at him, Nick uses his palm to softly turn his head so he can see Blaine's eyes. "You went into the once-city? With no one, with nothing but this…" he tosses Blaine's discarded knife into the bushes behind them "…to protect you? Why would you do such a reckless, stupid thing, Blaine? Are you trying to get killed? Is this about…her…? Do you want to die, Blaine? Are…are you trying to punish me?" He says this last part very quietly, a pleading look in his eyes.
Of course everything is about Nick – it always had been. Blaine isn't even allowed to grieve without Nick's involvement. He is so sick of this – sick of being a coward, sick of somehow forcing people to love him when he can't love them back, sick of living in this hole of a world, and sick of not being able to do anything about it.
He looks at Nick then – shoots his hazel eyes down to the depths of his soul. "I went to get something for you, Nick – something to prove to you what I can never prove to myself; that I'm worth something; that you mean something to me!" he tries to stop his voice rising in volume – he isn't angry, he isn't.
Nick gives him that pitying look again. "I know you did Blaine, I know. But all we have to do is get you back to where you were, to the person you were – then you'll feel better, I kn…"
"I can't go back, Nick!" Blaine can feel himself yelling now, but he feels strangely separate from it all, like he can see himself, but he can't do anything to stop what he's about to say. "You don't think I wish I could? To run around like I didn't have a care in the world; to kill the beasts that threaten us; to live and laugh and love…" he swallows softly and drops the volume of his voice "To have her back again…"
"Blaine…I…" Blaine lets Nick cup his face gently with his hand, lets him wipe away a tear with his thumb. "You know I love you, don't you? If you would just let me in…" Blaine stays silent, letting the tears fall softly. "You're hardly eating, I know you don't sleep, I bet you haven't even washed in days…you're slipping away from me. Please Blaine, please let me love you." He moves his hand to grasp under Blaine's chin, pulling him towards him slowly, so slowly…
"No! Get off me!" Blaine shuffles back from his touch and stands, feeling as if everything is about to burst inside. Nick pulls back his hand as abruptly as Blaine has moved away from him, the pain and shock evident on his face. But Blaine cannot stop himself, now that he has started, it has to come out.
"You don't…you don't understand. She loved me. She told me, on the day she died. She told me that she loved me, and I…I laughed at her Nick. She didn't know that I didn't…that I couldn't…And then she was gone. She went out that night because of me – because she wanted to lose herself in the dark, lose herself in the hunt so she wouldn't have to think of me. And she did." Blaine pulls his hands through his hair in frustration, hearing a small sob escape from between his lips.
Nick takes his opportunity to speak again "But this isn't the same thing, Blaine. Kay was different – I'm not a…"
"It is the same, Nick. It's the same because you love me, and I don't love you. I'll never love you, so just…just…leave me the hell alone!"
And Blaine turns to finish what he started this day – running from everything that is his sickly, wreck of a life. He runs further and further into the depths of the forest, but nothing can help him escape from the image that continues to drift before his vision - cobalt-blue eyes. And he hates himself for that too.
Poor Blaine. Hope you enjoyed this chapter – reviews always welcome – let me know what you think!