I'm so extremely sorry for the wait, my life got in the way. This is shorter than usual but I'm working on the next chapter as we speak. Thank you for reading. (:
"Kurt?"
"Er, no. It's Blaine."
Blaine has been leaves with rather an interesting dilemma after Kurt had promptly fallen very much asleep in the passenger side of his own car, leaving Blaine with no instructions on how to get to his house. In Blaine's eyes, there are two options. One, wake Kurt up and ask him how to get to his house; two, find someone in Kurt's phone to get directions from.
There is no way Blaine is waking Kurt up. Not a chance.
So, albeit hesitantly and rather guiltily, Blaine unlocks Kurt's phone to find his contacts, when he stumbles across "Awesome Blaine". Awesome Blaine? You're in Kurt's phone as Awesome Blaine. That's, that's pretty … awesome.
Smiling to himself, and listening to the soft sound of Kurt's unconscious breaths, he rifles through his sleepy friend's phone until he finds "Home" and presses ring. What if they're all asleep and you wake them up? What if no one's in? What if they don't answer? What are you gonna do-
"Kurt?" comes a woman's voice; hints of worry seeping through the mobile line.
That's how one Blaine Devon Anderson, lover of extortionate amounts of hair gel and goofy socks, finds himself talking to a woman he's never even seen before on a phone that isn't hisat nine-forty in the evening.
"Oh, hi there Blaine. Is Kurt okay?" Blaine doesn't know the extent of his day Kurt wishes to disclose to his family, and he certainly isn't going to give away anything that he doesn't want them to know.
"Oh yeah, he's fine."
"Good. I'm Carole, by the way. Kurt's step-mom, although I'm sure he's already told you that," she says softly. Blaine can hear a deep voice in the background. Kurt's dad?
"Yes, yes he has."
"Hang on just one second," Carole says as she put the phone down. After a few minutes of tense waiting, the line comes back to life. "Blaine?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Good. Um, well, are you with Kurt? The thing is that he's supposed to at home right now. And he isn't." She doesn't sound accusatory, but there is a slight tone of wonder and perhaps desperation in her voice.
"Kurt's with me, yeah. That's why I rang. He fell asleep, and I don't know where he- you- live, and I want to get him home safely-"
"Oh thank God. Burt and I were starting to worry something had happened!" A pang of guilt starts to bubble up inside Blaine. "You need directions, honey?" Honey. Your Mom doesn't even call you honey. She's really sweet. Okay. Breathe, Blaine. She's just a woman.
"Yes, as long as t-that's no problem," Blaine says, glancing out the window at the quick falling snow.
"None at all, love." Carole proceeds to give Blaine directions to their house, and makes him promise that he will call if he gets lost.
Blaine finds their house pretty easily, but the driving there is harder. The snow is getting thicker and thicker with every corner he turns, and although most of the roads have been gritted in preparation, it's still slippery out. Kurt, however, doesn't so much as stir the whole way home.
When Blaine pulls in the driveway, the front door of Kurt's lovely and very homely-looking house flies open. He parks the car outside their door, and gets out. Before he can introduce himself, a woman (presumably Carole) rushes forward and speaks, stopping at the edge of their paved area.
"Blaine?" He nods. "Hi, I'm Carole." So that's his step-mom, where's his dad?
"It's good to meet you, Mrs. Hummel. I'm sure that it'd be best for me to help Kurt in, then I'll be off."
"Carole? Who's this?" A man's voice sounds from behind her.
"It's Blaine, Kurt's friend. He drove him home because Kurt fell asleep," she explains, smiling. Blaine looks up to the sky at the still-falling snow, and then motions to the car.
"I'm gonna bring Kurt in now. He's downstairs, yeah?" Carole nods, and goes back inside. Blaine sighs, and unlocks the passenger side door. He unbuckles Kurt, and whispers, "Let's get you inside, nice and cozy." He's warm and pliant under Blaine's hands, which are moving him around gently. Slowly, Blaine reaches around Kurt until he has a firm grip under his knees and a strong hold on his back. To be doubly sure, he tucks his hand under Kurt's right arm, and places the other one around his own neck. "Don't you be waking up now, Mister Hummel," Blaine jokes half-heartedly.
Before he moves them both inside, Blaine takes a good look at Kurt. He's been through so much, today alone. It is so amazingly unfair that he has to deal with such a high level of prejudice on a day-to-day basis just because some idiots can't handle his sexuality. For one, it doesn't make any sense because Kurt would never do anything to them; Blaine knows that as well as anyone with half a brain. Also, it's hurtful to have to look after Kurt when he gets upset (like he did earlier). Not because he is a pain or a chore; Blaine will never see him as that, but because a boy as sweet, as caring as Kurt is victimized every single day for something he can't change, something that is a fundamental part of himself. Blaine understands the feeling of not fitting anywhere, as before Dalton he'd truly experienced being shunned from every social group. In a way, he feels thankful that he was beaten up because it got him out of there. He never would've been able to move if it hadn't have reached such a climax. His parents never would've allowed it. It's sick that you think that, don't be thankful for being beaten up. You deserved it anyway.
Once again, Blaine's thoughts become too much and he shakes his head, as if that will help to rid them. It doesn't.
Blaine bends his legs and braces himself as he picks Kurt up, and slowly maneuvers him out of the car. He's light and airy. And perfect.
He makes his way over to the door and goes in, steadily wiping his shoes on the mat. From the door, he turns into the kitchen and walks by Carole and her husband (obviously Kurt's dad), who are stood with their mouths open.
"Is it this way?" Blaine asks, nodding his head towards a corridor just past the kitchen. Carole nods wordlessly, and Burt walks over, holding it open for him. "Thank you Mister Hummel," Blaine says, smiling.
He navigates the two of them down the stairs carefully, awing at the sensational décor that Kurt has obviously picked out for his basement bedroom. At the foot of the stairs is a double bed with immaculate white sheets. Looks a bit like your house. Blaine puts Kurt down on the bed with little trouble (he's so light!), and then pulls his boots off. At the bottom of the bed is a blanket which Blaine pulls out from under Kurt's feet and places over him, smiling. He looks so calm when he sleeps, so trouble less and … free.
Blaine is glad that Kurt hasn't had any nightmares (yet). He is probably too exhausted to even dream at all. Good.
Blaine leaves the room quietly. In the kitchen, he is met with the stares of one angry looking Burt Hummel. Carole is sat next to him at their breakfast bar, smiling.
"Kurt's sleeping," Blaine starts, unsure of how to continue. "Er, it is lovely meeting you both, but I'd better be off. I-If you could tell Kurt to ring me tomorrow, if he wants of course, then that'd be g-great. B-bye-"
"Stop." Burt stands up and walks towards Blaine. "Do you want to explain to me why Kurt's late home? It's not like him to ignore curfew." His tone isn't threatening or accusatory, simply questioning. And kinda scary.
"He comes babysitting with me, and when I was driving him home-"
"Wait, why are you driving my son's car?" Uh-oh.
"It isn't my place to tell you that, sir. It's Kurt's." Burt makes a semi-grunt noise, and shakes his head.
"Fine. I'll ask him tomorrow. That doesn't explain why you're late though. Unless you drive slower than Kurt, that is."
"No, I don't drive slowly, sir. I mean- I stick to the limits and don't go through red lights. Or amber ones or-" Oh my God Blaine, shut up. What are you talking about?
"Okay, okay. You're a safe driver. But you're late because…" Burt says, chuckling slightly.
"We got a little distracted on the way home." It comes out of Blaine's mouth before he even realizes what he's just said.
"You got what?" Burt thunders, stepping closer to Blaine. "If you've done anything inappropriate with my son, in a car, young man, I will become your worst-"
"We don't, I don't, we- no. Sir, I meant that we pulled over for a while and got distracted by the snow," Blaine corrects hurriedly. Burt seems to visibly relax. "We, no- I will never think of doing anything of that nature with Kurt. He's my b-best friend." Blaine has never said that to Kurt, or even thought it before, but the words escape his mouth before he can stop them. When he thinks about it, he realizes how true it is. Kurt is his best friend.
"Right. Got it. Sorry," he says.
"My fault, sir," Blaine says, staring at his damp shoes. There's an awkward silence which Blaine breaks by heading towards the front door.
"Hold up, how are you getting home?"
"Um, I-I'm, er, walking," Blaine says as he turns around to face Burt again, feeling his ears redden.
"Walking? Kurt tells me you go to Dalton, correct?"
"Yes sir."
"And you live near there too?" Carole walks over and places a hand around Burt's middle.
"I do, sir."
"Well, that's settled then. You're not walking that far tonight at this hour, or in this weather. Can your folks come fetch you?"
"I, they- no, they can't."
"Right. Okay. We've got a spare room and there are sweatpants you can borrow. As long as your folks are okay with that," Burt says.
"He's right. I don't think it's safe out there for you if you are driving, let alone walking. Stay the night, okay?" Carole adds.
"I can't do that, I don't want to be of any trouble to anyone. I walk most places so it's no big deal. I appreciate the offer, I really do, but it's not necessary. Thank you; I hope to see you soon." Blaine once again makes for the door, getting so close as to touch the handle this time.
"Blaine, stop," Carole commands softly as she moves to stand behind him. "You're no hassle to us. In fact, you'd be a bigger problem if you left because we'd both be worried about you." She places a hand on Blaine's arm, and smiles warmly at him. "Hey, think about Kurt. I know for sure that he won't want you cold and wet and alone in the dark, will he?"
Reluctantly, Blaine turns around. "No, I guess he won't."
"Right, that's settled then. You can stay in our spare room tonight and tomorrow, I can take you home or wherever it is you need to be. Or," Burt adds, seeing Blaine's open mouth about to interrupt, "you can walk. Whatever suits you best."
"Thank you, sir. This is very kind of you, I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it kid." Burt takes one last look at Blaine, then stands up and leaves the room. Carole puts her hands on both of his arms and squeezes.
"Let's get you something to wear in bed, yeah?" Blaine nods and yawns. He hasn't realized how tired he is. "There's a toothbrush somewhere, and the fridge is over there if you need anything to eat," Carole says, even though she knows that Blaine won't take anything from it.
A little while later, Blaine is lying in bed, complete with clean teeth, some of Finn's old sweatpants and a hoodie, and a very tired body. He's just stretching out his legs when there's a knock at the door. A mumbled "yeah" later and Carole appears, poking her head through the gap.
"I just wanted to say thank you for getting Kurt home to us, it is a real nice thing you did. Oh, and he woke up a few minutes back to change and moisturize?" Carole raises her hands in a questioning motion and smiles at him in disbelief. "Trust Kurt to do that," she laughs and Blaine smiles. It sure sounds a lot like Kurt. "He's out of it again now, but anyway, sleep well Blaine." She gives him an awkward half-wave from the door, and slowly backs out, shutting the door slowly.
Long after she's gone and the house is silent (except from the occasional snore from somewhere along the corridor), Blaine is lying awake, thinking about his own parents.
They aren't great parents, if he's honest. Seeing how protective and caring Burt and Carole are makes something inside Blaine tense up a little. He has been given anything he's wanted as a child and as a teenager, but in the end, he guesses that it doesn't really count for much.
Not when he isn't given love.
When Blaine finally manages to fully open his eyes the next morning, he winces. The sun is shining brightly through the curtains next to his bed, and he quickly startles. Kurt's house. You're in Kurt's house. His sleep has been unsettled and choppy, thoughts and feelings of anger and hatred rattling around his head. His parents know a lot about both of those emotions.
Sounds flutter in underneath his doorway, so Blaine rolls out of bed after rubbing the backs of his hands across his bleary eyes. He changes quickly into his clothes from yesterday and makes the bed, placing his borrowed sweatpants and hoodie onto the bed, both neatly folded.
Ten minutes later, he is hooked up with coffee and two slices of toast (with raspberry jam of course), all courtesy of the lovely Carole. She's flicking through a gossip magazine when Burt appears, rubbing at his eyes.
"Good morning, Blaine."
"Morning, Mister Hummel," Blaine replies, staring intently at his mug.
"Did you sleep okay?" Carole asks, going to give her husband a kiss.
"Yeah, I did," he lies. "Thank you for letting me stay, I really appreciate it." Carole tells him that it is more than okay and Burt just kinda stares.
"Carole, I think Finn's calling you."
"I don't hear him," she says, oblivious. Burt gives her a look and she smiles. "Oh right, yeah. I'll just be leaving…" she says as she exits the kitchen.
"So Blaine, I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." Blaine's heart starts pumping double time and he tightens his hold on the coffee cup in front of him.
"Sure."
"Is Kurt, y'know, is he okay?" Blaine smiles up at Burt, and he feels his heart clench. Here is Kurt's dad asking his son's friend if he is alright, when his own dad hasn't asked him that question in many months.
"He will be, I'm sure. I don't want to say anything that could breach his trust, sir, but I think he'll be okay." Blaine smiles, and picks at his toast.
"Good." There's a pause, and then, "You're a good kid, Blaine. Kurt's found himself a good friend." Blaine just smiles. In his eyes, that is the highest form of compliment.
Carole returns and between the three of them, somehow it is decided that Blaine is to wake Kurt up. He laughs as he opens the door and Burt yells "Good luck!" to his disappearing figure.
After waking him up and making arrangements to meet Kurt the next day, he starts to wonder how he is going to get to work. He's missed his daily run this morning, so maybe he can jog?
"Blaine, you need taking home?" Blaine hasn't even realized that Burt is stood with him in the kitchen.
"Er, no thank you. I've got to be at work in half an hour, so I'd best be getting off." It suddenly hits him that he has no idea how to get to work from the Hummel's house.
"Let me take you, okay? Where do you work today?" Blaine realizes that Kurt must've told his dad about Blaine's multiple jobs. Something hot and heavy shoots through his chest, just as Burt turns to pick his car keys up from the countertop.
"At the toy store in the shopping mall in Lima, WhizzToys?"
"That's barely ten minutes in the car, c'mon."
"I appreciate it, sir, but it's not necessary-"
"Shut up and get in the car, kid."
Blaine does a six hour shift at the toy store, and then goes babysitting for another two. When he gets home at 8:30, his dad is waiting for him.
"Blaine, you missed the charity gala last night. You don't come home all night long." Shit. Blaine is in serious trouble. His dad is yelling at him. "Where the fuck were you?"
Blaine starts to go up the stairs. He just wants to sleep now. "I was at a friend's house. They didn't want me to walk home in the snow."
"Get back down here, boy!" Blaine obeys, standing a few feet away from his father. "What, not enough of a man to walk a few miles now?"
"It's fifteen miles from his house. I would've walked but they didn't want me to." Blaine sighs, and steps a little further away.
"It's not good enough, Blaine. Not good enough. But then, you'd know all about that, won't you?" His father steps right in front of him and Blaine almost chokes on the stench of alcohol.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"You will be. Get out of my sight, you worthless piece of shit." Blaine nods and starts to climb the stairs. Suddenly, something grabs his foot and he falls flat on his face. From behind him, his father chuckles.
"There's plenty more where that comes from."
Blaine doesn't even look back, he just runs. He doesn't even reach his room before the panic attack hits, freezing his limbs and causing his heart to race. As he staggers into his room, his whole body aches from the force of the fall. Somehow, he manages to shut the door and collapse against it. Placing his head between his knees, he starts to cry.
If only my dad was more like Burt Hummel.
Kurt texts him just as his shift is ending at the coffee shop, saying he is waiting outside to pick him up. Jen, the owner, has asked him if he is okay two or three times. He smiles and says that he is fine, but his pained expressions every time he stretches in the wrong way doesn't agree. His ribs are bruised and achy, but on the whole, he is okay. It could've been so much worse.
After Blaine has finished working and has returned his name badge to the drawer, Jen waves him off and Kurt is, as he says, waiting.
"Hey you," he greets.
"Hi," Blaine replies as Kurt pulls him into a tight hug. His hands squeeze Blaine's chest, pressing right on his bruises. "Ah shit."
Kurt stands back quickly, concern written all over his face. "What did I do?"
"Nothing, I'm just a little sore." Kurt continues to look puzzled, but Blaine can't think of an explanation.
"Why?" Dammit.
"Must've pulled something, I guess. I'm fine." Stupid excuse.
"As long as you're sure," Kurt replies, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards his car. "Let's go watch some cheesy movies, yeah?"
"Yeah," Blaine says, his mind wandering all over the place.
"Are you good for coming over after school on Tuesday?" Kurt asks hopefully. They'd spent the day watching Disney films and joking around. Kurt hadn't mentioned the earlier moment, thankfully.
"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm working," Blaine whispers.
"Okay," Kurt replies, thinking of ways to get around the problem. "How about Wednesday? Thursday?"
"I can only do Wednesdays after I've finished babysitting, which will be at about nine or ten. Thursday's the same." Kurt stops flicking at his iPhone and looks over to Blaine, who is sat on the edge of his bed, picking at the end of his jumper sleeve.
"Right. If you don't want to come over Blaine, that's fine but -"
"Of course I do! Of course. I'm just really busy."
"You do?" Kurt asks shyly.
"Yeah, don't be silly," Blaine says quietly, glancing up at Kurt. Blaine is surprised to find Kurt looking at him intensely, as if he is trying to figure something out. "You alright?"
"No. How much do you work Blaine?"
"W-What?"
"When, exactly, do you work?" Kurt replies, not letting his gaze drop.
"Er, quite often? I don't know."
"Exactly how much is quite often?"
There's a pause before Blaine opens his mouth hesitantly and whispers, "Every day."
"Oh my God." Blaine cuts him off before he can continue.
"I mean, it's nothing bad. I just help out Jen, who owns Cafetière, at lunchtime, and I cover for people in WhizzToys in the evening, then I babysit after that too." Kurt stands up. "It's nothing, really."
"Blaine, that's insane. What, I mean, how…" He trails off. "You don't drive either, right?" Blaine nods, looking at the floor. "And the when do you even eat, or do schoolwork, or sleep?" Blaine silences him by standing up and pulling him over. "What's going on with you, Blaine?"
"Alright, alright, alright. I'll tell you everything about my 'schedule'," he says, making air quotes. "Only if you promise not to freak out though."
"I'll try."
"Good. Now, sit," he instructs, pushing Kurt down onto the bed, then sitting beside him. "Well, where am I supposed to start?"
"Er, how about how you got your jobs?"
"Sure. Right. Well, I've been babysitting since I was like fourteen, ever since I was old enough. You get friendly with people and they trust you, so it's hard to just stop. Plus, I wanted some independence, y'know?" Kurt doesn't know, but he nods. He's always been very lucky with his dad in that he has never particularly wanted much. All the designer clothes he has are either gifts or paid for out of his savings (something his dad isn't all too pleased about, but he understands nonetheless). From the size of his house, Blaine doesn't need any money. It's strange. Kurt hopes that it will all become clearer in Blaine's explanation.
"Cafetière is owned by a really sweet woman called Jen who couldn't handle the workload when she first opened up about a year-and-a-half ago. I offered my help one weekend, and next thing I know, I've got a job."
"That's very kind of you," Kurt says truthfully. It's exactly fitting with everything he thinks of Blaine - selfless, caring and just plain nice.
"Just putting myself to some use, I s'pose. The toystore, WhizzToys, whatever you wanna call it, I just thought it'd be a fun thing to do. I went for an interview and a few days later, I started work there. Again, they've only just opened so they need all the help they can get, especially since it's the holiday season."
"Well, you've certainly gets charm, Devon," Kurt jokes in an attempt to lighten the situation. Kurt doesn't like the sound of where this is going so far.
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur Elizabeth." Silence falls between them; both boys looking down at the floor. Blaine wishes the floor would swallow him up whole so he doesn't have to reveal the truth to Kurt. He knows it is coming, he just knows it. That, however, doesn't mean he is going to like telling him. He's never told anyone before.
"Okay, next question. Why three jobs? And the truth this time, not the censored version."
"I told you already. I like making people happy and I like seeing them smile." Blaine can feel himself squirming.
"Sure, fine, okay." Maybe Kurt will drop it. Blaine lets out the breath he doesn't know he's been holding in. "But that doesn't drive you to get three jobs."
"Apparently it does," Blaine replies. He takes one look at Kurt and knows this isn't over. Damn.
"I'm not trying to fight with you Blaine, I just want to make sure that you're okay and you're not overexerting yourself," Kurt says soothingly; voice a lot softer than before.
"I'm fine."
"Good. Just, you know that if there is a reason, other than the smile-lover one, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"So there is? I mean, is there an actual reason?" Kurt somehow can't fathom that for Blaine, this subject is particularly hard.
"What if there is?" Blaine shouts, startling Kurt.
"Blaine-"
"What if there is an awful reason, a reason that I've never told anybody before?" Blaine says, whispering the last part.
"You know I'm here, Blaine," Kurt says quietly. "I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me." He wants to reach over and hold Blaine's hand or just do something to physically reassure him, but he doesn't feel like Blaine will appreciate that right now.
Blaine, meanwhile, is desperate. He needs something to ground him; any second now he is going to explode and tell Kurt. He can't do that. He won't. Memories of all the times his father has gotten drunk and hit him start replaying in his head; all the times his mother has just sat and watched are projecting in front of him as though he is watching a biopic of his life at the movies.
"Blaine?" Kurt whispers, worried about his friend's current rigid state. His eyes are glazed over and Kurt doesn't know how to help. "Talk to me." When he still doesn't respond, Kurt reaches forward slowly and grips Blaine's hand (which is holding Kurt's sheets so tightly that his knuckles are white). Immediately, Blaine's eyes drop down to their connected hands and he seems to struggle breathing for a second. "What's happening?"
Blaine just shakes his head and moves his hand from under Kurt's. He stands up and walks over to Kurt's dresser. Once there, he studies his face in the mirror. He looks the same as he always does. Blaine had expected there to be some kind of ugly mess staring back at him. No. That's just how you feel.
"Did I say something wrong?" Kurt asks innocently. "Do you want me to leave you-"
"No." The answer is so quick that Kurt hasn't even finished talking. "Don't leave, please, don't leave me alone."
"I'm not going anywhere." What is happening to him right now? He was so composed a few minutes ago, and now, well I don't think he's even here anymore. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"I can't-"
"Come here," Kurt says, patting the space next to him on the bed. Blaine walks slowly over, and sits. His shoulders are tense and his hands are scrunched into fists. "Talk to me, Blaine. What's wrong?"
"Kurt," Blaine breathes, holding on to the sob fighting its way out of his chest. "Kurt, I can't-"
"Try. Please, try for me," he begs, staring straight into Blaine's eyes.
"You don't understand."
"Help me to," Kurt whispers.
"I can't-"
"Don't shut yourself off Blaine, not now."
Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head. "I'm not trying to, I promise. This is just, I just, it's a lot."
Kurt sighs, but nods anyway. "I know, I know."
Blaine looks away, desperately hoping that Kurt can't see the tears pooling in his eyes. Breathing becomes really hard really quickly, and his chest starts to tighten. Feelings of extreme panic and a lack of control flood his mind, and everything seems to shut down. Not now, please. Not now.
"Blaine? Blaine, breathe," Kurt says, rubbing his back. "Look at me. Look right at me, nowhere else." He obeys, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. "Breathe with me."
After five minutes or so, Blaine's breathing is more even and manageable. Not perfect, but better. Kurt's hand is still resting on his back and he uses it to pull Blaine closer.
"I'm not going to make you talk about it, okay?" Blaine nods, his head coming into contact with Kurt's chest. "I'm here for you, don't forget that." Kurt kisses the top of his head, and smiles down sadly at the boy currently falling apart in his very lap. "Anytime, anyplace, you ring me and I'll be there." Blaine doesn't say anything, he just cries a little harder.