Chapter Three: Heartbreak Mend

Every morning he did the same things: wake up, take a shower, check to see if his original hair color was growing back. It didn't make logical sense, but Blaine was convinced that as long as he kept his hair bleached, he could hold back his old memories. If the roots showed a peek of natural color, he would immediately touch them up. Another day of being the self he knew.

He understood why no one liked the old Blaine. Hell, he didn't like the old Blaine. The guy was a looming threat in his mind. The worst of it was Blaine had no idea what would be the first Domino. The most random things seemed to trigger Liv's zombie visions; what if that worked the same way for his memories? He was glad for the funeral home and his new lounge singing career to keep his mind off... well, his mind.

And there was Peyton Charles, of course. She was always worth thinking about. She seemed to think he was worth it, too.

Which was nice, since even his own father hated him. He was still shaken from the visit. The one member of his family around, the one person he thought could give him a glimmer of hope in his old life couldn't stand the sight of his own son. Blaine ran fingers through his hair and let out a shaky breath. Peyton rubbed his shoulders and he tilted his head up, giving her a weak smile.

"That could've gone better."

"I know it wasn't the heartfelt reunion you were expecting," she said. Blaine couldn't help the snort that escaped.

"Understatement." His hand dropped helplessly on the desk. "Peyton, what kind of monster was I?" Her mouth dropped open; as he didn't really expect an answer, he kept on going. "If I was that bad at age eleven-" Blaine stopped, unwilling to even say the rest out loud. "Did you know he's the first family member I've heard from since I lost my memory?" he mentioned. "And I didn't even know he existed until his lawyer contacted me. What if they're all like that? What if-" He stopped again, but this time voiced his worry out loud. "What if my mother hates me for what I did, too?"

"Hey." Peyton caught his gaze, squeezing his shoulder. "Even if what he said was true, that doesn't mean everything in your past was bad."

"Maybe," he allowed. Her conviction made him want to believe it, too. Blaine reached up to cover her hand in his. "I'm really glad you're here, Peyton." She responded with a smile, their fingers interlocking.

"Anytime."

It took a while for Blaine's heart to resume its normal pace after that, and even longer for his smile to fade.

Later that evening as he tried chasing away his concerns with music, he caught some familiar but unexpected faces at the bar. Liv and Major showing their support lifted his spirits and gave him a ray of hope for this new life. He acknowledged them with a nod and Liv returned it with a little smile and wave. Don't come back, he told his old self. Ever.

After his set, Blaine went to get a drink at the bar. He saw Peyton was there and would've welcomed her warmly if he didn't catch the look on her face.

"You okay?" he asked her worriedly. She met his gaze but shook her head, choosing to answer by taking a sip from her glass. Blaine put a hand on her shoulder and guided her out back so they could talk more privately. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did you get more messages on your Twitter?"

"No." Peyton let out a humorless laugh. "I almost wish I did. After Ravi said... well, you know." Blaine nodded, waiting patiently. "After he said that, I went over to his place to talk it over. Except he had someone with him." Blaine understood the implications right away and took her hand.

"I'm so sorry."

"God," Peyton breathed. "It's like I have the worst luck with men lately. I thought I could read people better than this."

"I hope you can," Blaine said, "because of how you've read me so far."

"Yeah," Peyton agreed with a smile. "I guess I haven't completely lost my touch." It suddenly occurred to Blaine that they were still holding hands. She was clearly not in the right place for that, so he released his grip and put a respectable distance between them. Peyton didn't seem to notice. "I should be getting home," she said. "You better keep me updated on how you're doing with the memory thing."

"I will," he promised. "Good night, Peyton."

"Good night," she returned. "And thanks for the pep talk." Blaine smiled, reaching to squeeze her fingers again.

"Anytime."