A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews of the last chapter! Every one meant so much! I have to especially thank bigeasybreezy, my new beta, for all the amazing help and support on this chapter! I hope you all enjoy . . .
He could feel their eyes on him as he frantically made his way through the tables and out the door. He could hear Kurt behind him trying to get some money out to the waitress as he attempted to come after him. "Blaine, wait, please!"
Blaine could hear Kurt behind him as he grabbed for the cold brass handle and whipped it open, the bell jangling loudly in his ears. He didn't turn around to see him and just kept going. He didn't bother to make sure the door closed behind him, his only thought get out, get away, escape! The cold air hit him harshly in his face as he dashed out the door, stinging his eyes and lips but clearing his mind.
Once free of the oppressive feeling of the café, he tore down the street, running into a few people along the way, finally making it to the corner where he was forced to stop for traffic. He was already out of breath; he was already weakened and didn't have much left to run on. Once the taxis were by, he started back up at a fast walk, almost trotting down the street, desperate to put as much space between him and the café and Kurt as he could.
He looked back after a block or so and heaved a sigh of relief – he couldn't see Kurt following him. He couldn't do this, just couldn't. Kurt had tried to apologize to him. To him! As he slowed down, his head dipped lower and lower. He could hear Alex's voice in his head: Loser, worthless, waste of space and air. Blaine knew what he was. He knew how unworthy, unlovable and how everyone else saw him. Who was he to deserve an apology from Kurt? Kurt who was so wonderful and perfect and everything he'd ever wanted. It wasn't right, and he couldn't listen to the lies falling from Kurt's mouth any second longer. He knew above all else that he had done something to drive Kurt away all those years ago and that there was no way he deserved an apology for anything after so much time had gone by.
His slowing steps lead him to a small quarter-block park a few blocks from the café. His breath was still coming in desperate gasps from his short burst of a run. Since he hadn't seen Kurt keeping up with him, he was pretty sure he was safe to sit down and rest. His body wasn't in any shape to run the way he had and his stomach felt awful. It was churning the coffee he'd had at home as well as the few sips he'd had in the café. There was a bench not too far into the park nearly hidden by a tree. As he neared it, an overwhelming feeling of nausea hit him. Pathetic, ugly, needy, obnoxious. Alex's words played in his head, and his stomach rebelled against him.
He frantically looked around and noticed a garbage can blessedly close to the bench, and he grabbed for it, leaned over it, hands bracing himself on its cold metal sides as his stomach brought back up the coffee he'd had. There wasn't anything else in him as his stomach fought him and tears streaked his face. Once the dry heaves that came after all the coffee was gone had ceased, Blaine's knees collapsed and he flopped down onto the nearby bench. He settled himself back against the hard surface, paint scratching his hands as he did so. Blaine wished he had some water to wash out his mouth, but he was really just relieved to have somewhere to rest. The angry, embarrassed hot tears still streaked his face, and he leaned forward, resting his face in his hands, cradled there protected from any glances from passersby. His elbows dug into his bony knees, and he allowed himself to sob.
Blaine's abrupt movement and departure caught Kurt off guard. Blaine didn't even grab his coat as he made his escape out of the café. Kurt was dumbfounded for a few seconds, losing valuable time to catch him. "Blaine, wait, please!" he called out to him as he stood himself, but the sound was lost in the café it seemed because Blaine didn't even turn around to glance at him.
He reached for his wallet to pay the waitress for the coffees and the coming salads. He grabbed Blaine's coat and tossed the money at the shocked looking waitress. "I hope you catch him, sir!" she shouted after him as he caught the door and threw it open.
He knew all the eyes in the small café were on him, but he didn't even care. All he cared about was catching Blaine and figuring out what the hell was wrong. He tore out of the café, door slamming, and quickly looked both ways trying to figure out just which way Blaine might have gone. He saw him in the distance, almost to the other end of the block, running away from him frantically. Blaine was abruptly forced to stop because of traffic in the street, and Kurt started after him.
Blaine started moving further from him once the taxis were out of the way, trotting down the street, once glancing behind him. He didn't seem to see Kurt behind him and he kept moving, slowing a little, his head down and out of the wind.
Kurt was sure Blaine couldn't see him yet, but he was catching him quickly after being caught up at the same corner. "Blaine! Blaine! Wait up!" Kurt hollered down the street at him as he ran to catch up. Blaine never glanced back, slipping around a corner, but he seemed to be slowing.
A small park was off to one side of the next block. It was only a tiny green space in the city, but he had a feeling Blaine would be attracted to it. He ran through it, looking to benches and well-worn paths, searching for the other man. Despite his efforts, it seemed that Blaine had indeed lost him. He slowed his brisk walk and was contemplating accepting that Blaine had gotten away. Kurt started to make his way back toward the street he had come from to go back to the café to retrieve his forgotten satchel when a folded-over form caught his eye on a bench hidden between a large oak tree and a garbage bin.
He approached slowly and cautiously, not knowing really what to say. Blaine had obviously had a terrible reaction to him and his words, well-meaning as they had been. He was bent over, elbows on his knees on the shoddy park bench in desperate need of a new paint job. His hands were covering his face, long fingers reaching up past his eyes as his palms cradled his cheeks. His back was heaving from the silent sobs that were wracking his small frame. He hadn't seen or heard Kurt approach, too lost in his own world.
Kurt drew near to him and knelt down in front of Blaine's knees. "Blaine?" Kurt whispered his name as almost a question.
Between his sobs he saw a pair of men's feet approach him clad in what appeared to be very expensive Italian tan leather shoes. "Blaine?" the owner of the shoes whispered to him.
It was a voice that Blaine distinctly remembered, one that brought him back to high school. It was tentative and forlorn with a want and neediness to it that Blaine had always responded to. He had called it Kurt's "little lost lamb" voice much to Kurt's chagrin. "Blaine, I'm so sorry for whatever happened back there. I, um, I brought you your jacket."
Blaine felt him reach up around him, and he flinched. He couldn't help it. Evidently his movement didn't deter Kurt, and he settled the warm jacket around his shoulders since Blaine's head was still in his hands. He could feel Kurt just standing there in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into nothingness, so he didn't have to be such a mess in front of him. This isn't what he had wanted; he had wanted to meet up with Kurt and show him that he was doing better, that he had his shit together. But he wasn't even capable of that. He was such a fucking failure. With that thought, renewed sobs shook his chest, tearing out his voice into an almost broken, quiet wail.
Kurt slowly fell to his knees in front of Blaine; he could see this through his tears and his fingers covering his face. Kurt, the boy who couldn't stand to get any of his designer anythings dirty was kneeling in the mud in front of him. "Blaine, I, I, don't . . . I mean . . ." He trailed off.
Once Blaine had a bit more control he attempted to get out, "Th-thanks, for, uh getting my jack-cket." His chest was still shaking, and his breath was coming in gasps, breaking up his words that he could speak. He wiped at the tears with the back of his hand a bit and tried to control himself, although the tears seemed to still fall no matter what he did. He felt the bench move a little beside him as Kurt steadied himself with it.
The same small voice spoke again, "Blaine, um, is it alright if I touch you?" Another tear broke loose of his overflowing eyes, and he didn't respond; he couldn't. What would he say? No! No what? It wasn't like Kurt was trying to come on to him, and what did he want to touch Blaine for anyway? Instead he flinched away from Kurt again and remained mute, hoping Kurt would leave him and his miserable self alone again. He had been fine before Kurt had waltzed back into his life demanding that he break out of his routine and his shell.
He felt hands, Kurt's hands, tentatively settle on the outsides of his knees right next to his elbows. They just sat there, creating a light pressure that was strangely reassuring and comforting. He managed a glance up and saw Kurt's eyes shining with tears too, his face lightly lined where others had fallen. As Blaine met his eyes, Kurt shifted his hands. "Let me help you get your jacket on, Blaine, please. It's cold out here." His voice was still near a whisper and was lower than it had been. Like the only person he wanted to hear him in the whole world was Blaine.
Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt's bright blue shimmering eyes for a second more before nodding slightly and dropping his hands from his face. Kurt's hands left his knees, and his jacket was shifted up around him to make it easier for him. Blaine started to try to get his arms in the sleeves of the jacket with Kurt's help. They struggled for a moment before it was on correctly. Blaine's arms hung at his sides, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.
Kurt pulled his jacket in around him and even zipped him into it. Blaine stared towards the ground. He marveled at the fact that there were actual grass marks and mud on Kurt's knees and he hadn't noticed or cared yet. It was a fascinating thought to Blaine that Kurt would not care about his clothes that much and it occupied his mind so much so that he almost missed the words Kurt whispered to himself, "Dear god, what happened to you? Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry."
He stood in front of his sobbing, hunched-over ex-boyfriend at a complete loss. Most of the time in his life, Kurt knew what to do, but this situation with Blaine had him completely perplexed. Something was so terribly wrong, and it wrenched at his heart to see Blaine in this much of a damaged condition. He just didn't know what to do and how not to hurt him. "Blaine?" He ventured out tentatively, wanting to alert the other man to his presence if he hadn't noticed him yet.
So he said the only thing he could think of standing there, "Blaine, I'm so sorry for whatever happened back there. I, um, I brought you your jacket." It was lame, he knew, but it was about the only thing he could think of to say that he didn't think would set Blaine off in some way. From Blaine's reactions in the past few days, it was becoming clear to Kurt that Blaine had some very serious triggers that he had to be careful of if he wanted to help him in any way.
Blaine didn't react to his quiet voice that Kurt hated had come out high and thready from his nervousness. When he didn't move, Kurt started to settle his jacket around his shoulders, just hoping to keep the thin man a bit warmer. As it started to touch him, Blaine jerked away from him, but stayed on the bench. Kurt paused in his movements, and once he was satisfied that Blaine was okay with what he was doing, he finished situating the jacket around his shoulders.
Kurt stood there a minute more arguing with himself about what to do. All he could settle on was that Blaine needed help and he was the only one it appeared was able or willing to give it to him. Any help that he could give him needed not to be here and now, though, because it was far too cold outside and Blaine was already shivering.
He had to get Blaine somewhere else, more secluded than the café but a place he felt safe and warm. Then they could talk or Kurt could talk or they could just be, but Kurt knew he couldn't leave Blaine by himself now. But it wouldn't work if he couldn't get Blaine's attention. He shuffled his feet a bit closer and then knelt down on the dirty ground in front of him so they were nearly eye to eye. He winced a little inwardly as he realized these were designer jeans that were now going to be grass-stained and dirty, but it was definitely worth it.
"Blaine, I, I, don't . . . I mean . . ." He started but couldn't manage to finish the sentence. He had so much he wanted to say, so much in his heart that he wanted to get out, but he couldn't find the right words. Here was Blaine in front of him, the one man who had meant everything to him, the one he had always thought was The One, broken and beaten down and fucking flinching when he made one movement toward him. It was as though Blaine was afraid of him, of what he might do, of the pain he might cause. It was absolutely heartbreaking and devastating.
He had known it might take Blaine a while to get over him, but he never thought his actions might lead to something like this or whatever else had happened. He had been trying to protect Blaine. He had been horrible, undeserving and utterly betrayed him. He hadn't wanted to see the look on Blaine's face when he realized what his boyfriend really was: a person who didn't care what they had to do to get to the top, a sell-out, and worse a person who would consider hurting his boyfriend to do so. Because of this he hadn't told him what he had done; he'd just broken it off, hoping that would be easier. He would live with his crime, but Blaine wouldn't have to.
Now he realized that even that action was selfish. He had been protecting himself in Blaine's eyes; he hadn't wanted to damage his image to Blaine. But that is what he had deserved – if he had done that, maybe Blaine would have realized how awful he was and been able to forget about him.
The tears started down his cheeks when he realized that not only had he behaved absolutely appallingly, but he had also been a selfish prick. He'd had a great hand in creating the broken man in front of him. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to get the amber eyes he had so loved to meet his again.
Kurt jumped a little at Blaine's voice, cracking and quiet, but there and beautiful to his ears nonetheless, "Th-thanks, for, uh getting my jack-cket." He moved to wipe at his face and rub his eyes, although he seemed to still be crying.
Kurt thought of reaching out to put his hands on Blaine's knees but thought better of it. Instead he balanced himself by reaching out his hands to either side of Blaine's hips and hung onto the bench he was sitting on. As he knelt there on the cold ground, he waited for Blaine's next move.
"Blaine, um, is it alright if I touch you?" he tentatively asked him. Kurt knew that touching him without permission was a bad idea. Blaine flinched again and didn't respond. Kurt took it as an acceptance of his question and lightly laid his hands on the other man's knees near his elbows. Blaine startled a little at his touch, but didn't pull away. He finally opened his eyes, and molten amber stared Kurt down. There was so much pain hidden in those eyes washed clean with the tears falling down his face. It was the longest he'd looked in his eyes since they had met a few weeks ago.
Kurt could feel the light shivers running through Blaine's small, thin frame and knew he needed to get him warm again soon. Their eyes still locked, he whispered, "Let me help you get your jacket on, Blaine, please. It's cold out here." The other man nodded and acquiesced to his suggestion. His hands left his face, and he allowed Kurt to assist him into pulling it on. There was momentary frustration when his shirtsleeve caught in the jacket, but then it was over his shoulders. Kurt waited a few seconds before realizing that Blaine was going to make no motion to pull the zipper up on his own. He seemed to just be staring into space near Kurt's knees. But he had stopped crying, and Kurt supposed that was at least some progress. He inwardly sighed and moved to zip up Blaine's jacket.
While zipping his coat, Kurt could finally tell how rail thin Blaine really was, despite his clothing hiding it pretty well. He seemed really out of it, and if his recent experience with Blaine was any indication, he hadn't eaten anything lately. He seemed nervous and fidgety as well as scared at the simplest of things. Kurt's heart hurt. And he wanted to do what he should have done long ago, open up to him and let him in. Let Blaine be himself, let Blaine know that he had problems too and that he wanted to solve them together. His thoughts escaped in a whisper through his lips, "Dear god, what happened to you? Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry."
Evidently Blaine heard him, as his eyes flitted up to meet his again briefly. Kurt tried to hold them with his own, moving so that he was back in Blaine's line of sight. "I am sorry Blaine, for everything." His hands moved up to squeeze Blaine's shoulders as the words left his mouth. He decided not to address Blaine running out of the café directly just yet. "If you're not up for the café, can we get something to go and head somewhere more private where you're more comfortable? I'd still like to talk with you and spend some time with you. If it's okay. I do have to stop back at the café for my satchel, though. What do you think?"
Blaine seemed to fight with himself for a few moments, emotions flashing across his face and his eyes. "Ye-yes" his voice cracked, "um, I liked your place okay."
Kurt grinned back at him. He wasn't surprised. He remembered from long ago that Blaine had problems sleeping somewhere he wasn't comfortable, and so it had been very telling when Blaine had fallen asleep while at Kurt's before. Despite the war going on within Blaine, underneath everything he evidently still had some trust for Kurt.
"I have some more of Carole's soup if you'd be more interested in that instead of take out; you seemed to like it before," Kurt suggested hopefully with another squeeze to his shoulders.
Blaine contemplated for a second, "oh, yeah, that would be okay." Kurt let go of his shoulders and helped him up to a standing position. He held on to Blaine's elbow as he steadied himself on his feet.
"We're not too far away. I'll call the café and let them know I'll be back later for the satchel. I think we should go to my place now; we're only a few blocks from it, and the café's in a different direction. You think you can manage?" Blaine nodded in response, his eyes dropping yet again towards the ground. He was weak, but he didn't want to show it as much as he could.
Kurt dropped his hand from Blaine's elbow and let him fare on his own for the walk. Kurt thought it might be a point of pride for Blaine not to rely on him too much, and he didn't blame him. They slowly made their way out of the park, Blaine setting the pace, and headed towards Kurt's apartment together.
A/N: I'm already hard at work on the next chapter; look for it soon! I appreciate any and all comments, recommendations, ideas and thoughts! Reviews help me write faster and give me great ideas. Thanks again for reading!