Summary: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.
Warning: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well.
A/N: Sorry to give this to you so late in the day but I sprained my wrist yesterday when my driveway attacked me with a patch of ice (I fell) making editing this take longer than usual. I'm sorry if I missed any mistakes/typos as well, but it's hard to type. I promise to go back and look it over again tomorrow after work! There is a song in this one, but I've shortened it a lot and there's not going to be a lot of songs in this story. There's just this one and another one closer to the end of the story. That's it, I promise. I also promise that there is at least a semi-happy ending, but that's all I'm going to tell you for now!
Also I promise my goal in life is not to make you guys cry, so I'm sorry if I did. I just needed to get this story out, as heartbreaking as it is.
Chapter 8: Bloodshed
September 2011
Kurt recognized her the moment she stepped into the choir room, even if he was a little taken aback by the cheerleading uniform the young girl was wearing and that way her usually loose black ringlets were tied back tightly in the obligatory Cheerio ponytail. It didn't compare to the surprise he held at the hard look on her face.
He hadn't seen Brianna since the memorial service several weeks before, but somehow in that short amount of time she looked completely changed.
He watched as she surveyed the club and her eyes softened very slightly when they locked on his, "Hi Kurt." Her voice was sharper than he remembered.
"Hi Bri," he greeted in a soft voice.
Her eyes looked over the club again, before looking at Mr. Schue for a moment, "So I'm here to audition. I know you probably don't usually do auditions as duets, but whatever. Kurt, will you sing with me?"
He blinked stupidly for a moment, "What? We haven't practiced-"
"Wish You Were Here," she said abruptly, reminding him. It was the song they'd sung together at the memorial service.
"Of course." He stood up and noticed the weird looks the rest of his friends were giving him. He walked over and stood next to Brianna, before saying quietly, "Guys this is my friend Brianna Anderson; Blaine's little sister."
Brianna shook her head at the sudden recognition that came over their faces.
Kurt watched as she cut off any attempts at encouraging or comforting words by opening her mouth and singing out.
I can be tough
I can be strong
But with you, it's not like that at all
There's a girl
That gives a shit
Behind this wall
You just walk through it
He let his voice pick up along with hers, not moving at all but just letting his emotion pour out through his voice as she did the same.
And I remember all those crazy things you said
You left them running through my head
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here.
All those crazy things we did
Didn't think about it, just went with it
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here
Damn, Damn, Damn,
What I'd do to have you
Here, here, here
I wish you were here.
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I'd do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here.
I love the way you are
It's who I am, don't have to try hard
We always say, say it like it is
And the truth, is that I really miss
All those crazy things you said
You left them running through my head
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here.
All those crazy things we did
Didn't think about it, just went with it
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here
He sang the backup echoes softly, a tear slipping down his cheek.
(Let go, let go, let go, let go)
No, I don't wanna let go
I just wanna let you know
That I never wanna let go
He spontaneously wrapped his arms around the young girl and squeezed her tight. Ever since he'd met Brianna she'd been prone to hugging him, or Blaine, or Joey, or really just whoever was near. So it surprised him when she roughly pushed him back, making him stumble slightly. "Back off Kurt."
"Hey." He turned his head as Finn stood up, "You can't do stuff like that. He was just giving you a hug."
"What the hell do you care?" She growled in a very uncharacteristically low voice.
"That's my brother," Finn's voice was affronted.
Kurt saw all the muscles in Brianna's face tighten and finally a tear slipped down her face. He desperately wanted to hug her again, but he could only imagine how she might react. He held himself back.
"Yeah well my brother's dead, so screw you," she snapped, before whipping her head to look at Mr. Schuester. "Screw your stupid club. It's for losers-"
"Brianna," Kurt's frowned deeply, "You don't really think that. Blaine loved glee-"
"Yeah well he went and got himself killed, didn't he?" She swiped angrily at the one stray tear and levelled her familiar hazel eyes on him. "I'm done here."
He chased her as she ran out of the choir room and down the hall, panting when he finally caught her wrist and stopped her. "Bri I get that you're upset-"
"I lost my brother!" He blinked at the sudden scream and his hand fell from her wrist. "Don't tell me you get it Kurt, 'cause you don't. You're dumbass brother is right down the hall and mine's dead and we didn't even get to freaking bury him. So don't tell me that."
"I loved him too," he told her in a very soft voice. "I'd give anything to tell him one last time. I'd give anything for one last day with him; one last minute even. I'd give anything to just hold his hand in mine, just one more time." He was unashamed of the tears running down his face, "even just to see him. I love him so much Bri and I lost him and I don't know how I'm supposed to keep on living without him here with me. Blaine- he- we may not have been dating more than a few months, but he was 'it' for me Bri. He's still 'it' for me. He's all I ever wanted and now he's gone and I don't know what to do!"
He was surprised when her arms wrapped around him softly.
He sniffed loudly, "I know it's not the same. We loved him in different ways, but we both loved him."
"I know," her voice wasn't sharp this time, but back to the same softness she had before they'd gotten the news. "I know- I just- he was my brother. He was- we were so close. I- he wasn't just my brother, he was my best friend."
He rubbed her back gently, "I know."
"He thought you were the one too," she murmured in a very quiet voice. "He told me he thought you were his 'ever after'. He was such a dork." She paused for a very short moment before adding shakily, "I guess his ever after was just a lot shorter than any of us expected."
His breath caught in his throat and just nodded, before swallowing and taking her hand. "Come on Bri. Let's go back to glee club."
There was a sigh and a curt, "Fine, but don't expect me to be nice to them, or apologize, because I'm not going to."
He smiled weakly, "I think you and Santana will probably get along just fine, if that helps at all." Somehow he knew it wouldn't. The only thing that would help was the impossible, getting Blaine back.
February 2012
Blaine was surprised to be alive. Each morning that he woke up he expected that it would be the day Pierre would finally get sick of him and choke the life from his body. Except he'd been this man's captive for six months now, been taken across state lines (even if he didn't exactly know where they were since he'd blindfolded during the drive) and still Pierre hadn't murdered him.
Which wasn't to say that Pierre was nice to him; it was just the opposite. However Blaine learned. He learned that if he didn't fight back much, or even just gave in, that it didn't hurt so much and Pierre beat him up less.
The better he behaved the more privileges he earned. After two months he hadn't been bound when Pierre was around. After four months he'd been allowed to sleep with only his hands bound behind his back, rather than tied to the bed.
Now was even better. Now he was allowed to sleep without being tied up at all. The only time he was bound now was when Pierre left the apartment, even if there was a new bolt on the outside of his door that kept him from leaving his room at night.
It didn't matter. He had a plan. There was no bolt on his window and he was fairly sure he could pop out the screen quietly if he was careful enough. The window was tiny but he'd measured and he was pretty sure he could fit through it with only a little difficulty.
He'd been planning tirelessly for weeks during the hours he should have been sleeping; timing how long it took Pierre to fall asleep, making small noises in the middle of the night and seeing how much he could get away with before the man awoke. He was exhausted and sometimes the noisemaking ended in beatings, but it would all be worth it. Tonight was the night.
He stepped quietly into the bedroom of the small apartment that was allocated to him, listened to the bolt click and laid down on the bed. He lay silently; wide awake with adrenaline until he heard the tell-tale loud snores that meant Pierre had fallen asleep.
Looking at his alarm clock as the red digital numbers shone back at him, he noted the time. Usually it took Pierre about a half hour before he was in a deep enough sleep that Blaine could move around without waking him.
The half hour passed slowly as the numbers on the clock slowly changed, until finally it was time.
He swallowed nervously, clenching and unclenching his hands as he tried to get up the nerve to do what he was about to do. He knew without a doubt that if he got caught that he was liable to be killed. Pierre seemed almost fond of him sometimes, but he was under no false pretences. If he was caught there would be bloodshed.
Then again the idea was to not get caught.
He carefully walked over to the window and lifted the pane, wincing when there was a slight squeak. He listened for a terrifying moment until he heard another snore from Pierre in the other room.
He popped the screen inward and set it carefully against the wall before sticking his feet out the window. When the cold snow pressed against his feet he almost let out a shout of joy. Yes it was freezing against his bare feet, but he hadn't felt anything other than linoleum, carpet or hardwood under his feet in six long months.
He sequestered the urge to shout and instead crept away from the apartment.
The obvious first choice would be to go to one of the neighbouring apartments and ask for help, but fear shot that idea down quickly. The draft from his open window was sure to wake Pierre up soon and he wanted to be as far from him as possible when he did.
He didn't want to risk the sound of closing said window behind him.
So instead he ran through the snow until he reached the end of the street. He stared in shock for a long moment at all the lights that he was faced with. People everywhere were walking in every which direction and yellow cabs lined the roads in addition to random vehicles.
It was the city. He'd been in a city for several months and hadn't even known it.
He tried to stop one of the bundled walkers on the street, but the man just brushed past him without a word.
"Ex-excuse me," he grabbed someone by the wrist, "Please I nee-" he was pushed back roughly and growled at.
"Keep your hands to yourself asshole."
He bit back a sob and tried someone else who was bustling by, "Please," he pleaded with the stranger who's long, dark curly hair was clamped under a toque, "Please I need help."
The woman, who looked about thirty, he'd grabbed stopped and looked at him for a long moment. At first she looked outraged that he would just grab her out of the blue, but then her dark eyes flickered down to his bare feet. Then she seemed to notice that he was only a teenager. Her face softened and she asked, "Are you okay dear?"
Blaine shook his head, his feet and fingers starting to turn numb, "Please. I just want to go home." His ears burned with cold.
"Where's home?" She asked him in a soft voice as she carefully moved him away from the quick moving crowd.
"I- I-," he stuttered and looked around, completely overwhelmed. "I don't know where I am."
"Come on," she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "You're going to freeze if we don't get you inside." She gently led him into a nearby apartment building. "We're going to get you warmed up and sent home, okay Sweetie?"
He shuddered and nodded his head as he followed her into a small, cozy apartment. The woman locked the door behind her and immediately pushed him down on the couch before grabbed the quilt folded on top of it and draping it across his shoulders.
He watched in silence as she put a kettle on the stove, before returning and sitting on an armchair across from the couch. "Now, why don't you tell me your name? Mine's Claire."
"B-Blaine," he shivered out, clutching the blanket closer around him.
"Well Blaine," she smiled at him softly. "Do you want to tell me what you're doing outside, alone on a frigid February night with no shoes and no coat? That's very irresponsible."
"I don't have any shoes anymore," he whispered in a soft voice. "I don't go outside. I'm not allowed."
She looked concerned at this, "Why not?"
"People will see me," he whispered with a shiver. He looked at her again, "Claire… I want to go home. Can I go home now?"
"Where's home Blaine?" She asked again, biting on her lip and he wondered if he was beginning to make her nervous.
"Where am I?" He asked tiredly. He felt so tired and overwhelmed. Freedom was overwhelming. The adrenaline was wearing off and he felt so confused and fuzzy. It was if the cold weather had robbed him of his senses.
She frowned, "Well you're on Melrose Avenue."
"But where?" He asked as his eyelids grew heavier. "I don't know where that is."
"It's right by Central Park," she explained, her brows furrowing deeply. "Blaine, you do know you're in Manhattan, right?"
His eyes bugged out and suddenly he was awake again, "Man-Manhattan; as in New York?"
"Blaine?"
Tears started sliding from his cheeks. "I'm in New York? I- I- Claire-"
The woman moved over to sit beside him and draped an arm over his shoulders to draw him close. "Blaine, did something happen to you?" He watched as her eyes flickered over his face, apparently just now fully taking in the bruising under his jaw and the cut on his cheek. "Did someone take you away from home?"
He nodded his head and sniffled, his eyelids starting to feel heavy despite the rollercoaster of emotions flooding his body. "I-I- I'm from Ohio."
"I'll call the police for you Sweetie," she told him suddenly and reached for the phone, but Blaine's head shot up.
"Please-" he begged in a whisper. "I'm so tired. I just want to sleep and they- the police won't let me sleep." He breath quickened desperately, tears forming in his eyes again, "They'll make me go to the hospital and- and I'm so sick and tired of him, of anyone, touching me. I just- please let me sleep first?"
"Sweetie," she started, her voice trembling slightly. He looked up her with shining eyes. She had to understand the implication of his statement, "do you need to go to the hospital?"
"It can wait, I promise," he snivelled a little and wiped his face on his sleeve. "I just- they're going to have to touch me and- I- please let me sleep? It would be so much easier if I could just sleep, please. I'm so tired."
"No one's going to touch you," she murmured in a soft voice, still holding him gently, "not like that, not anymore. It's going to be okay."
He laid his head on her shoulder, feeling both tired and for the first time in six months, comforted. His chest started to shake softly and he whispered out shakily as he choked back the sobs, "Thank you. Thank you."
"Shush," she murmured softly, hugging him tightly for a moment before standing up quietly. "You don't need to thank me Sweetie. I want to help. I'm going to call the police, but I promise you'll get to sleep soon."
"No, please Claire, wait." His body started trembling harder, the cold still not retreating quickly enough from his limbs. "Please, just- just an hour or two, please. Please?"
The kettle screamed and she rushed to it without answering him, before pouring the tea into two mugs. She added a little cold milk and sugar to both. She brought one over and pressed the steaming mug into his hands. "I'll tell you what Blaine. We'll make a deal. You drink some of this and I'll let you nap for a couple hours before I call the police for you, okay?"
He nodded and sipped the steaming tea, not caring as it scalded his tongue slightly. He'd suffered much worse pain than that before.
She brought over the other mug and set it on the coffee table before bustling over to a closet and pulling out a pillow and a couple more blankets. She set the pillow at one end of the couch and placed the folded blankets at the other.
Blaine looked up at her and asked in a plaintive voice, "Can I sleep now?"
She looked at the mug and noticed it was nearly half gone. "I'm surprised you didn't burn your tongue."
"I did, but I want to sleep," he murmured tiredly.
She slipped the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table next to her own. Then she very carefully motioned for him to lie down. "You can sleep now Blaine. I just wanted you to warm up a little first."
He settled his head on the pillow, feeling safer than he had in a long time. He felt Claire cover him with the quilts gently and was reminded instantly of how his mother used to tuck him in as a child. "Thank you," he whispered as he slowly let his mind slip into oblivion.
He jerked awake awhile later and sat up from the couch. He looked around in confusion for the source of the noise that had awakened him. "Claire?" He asked in a soft voice and wondered if she'd gone to bed.
"No," a deadly familiar voice growled at him and his head twisted around to see Pierre in the apartment, a knife in his hand. Said knife was pressed against Claire's neck and the woman's clothing looked distinctly more rumpled. "Blaine you're going to fold up those blankets and put them back where they belong."
Blaine froze and his hesitation caused a thin line of blood to appear against Claire's neck. It elicited a terrified whimper from the motherly woman.
He started folding the blankets frantically and put them back into the closet with the spare pillow in hopes his obedience would save Claire's life. All the time he was wishing he hadn't insisted so fervently on sleeping before calling the police. He could only guess that Claire was also wishing she hadn't given in to his pleas.
"Please Pierre," he whispered desperately. "Don't hurt her. She didn't do anything wrong. She was just trying to help me. I'll go back with you, I promise. I'll never try to run again- just- please don't hurt her."
"You're right about two things," Pierre snarled at him darkly. "You will go back with me and you'll never try to run again. I've been too lenient on you Blaine, out of fondness, but that's going to change." There was a pause. "Now say goodbye to your new friend."
"No Pierre, please-" his pleas were cut off as a spurt of blood gushed from Claire's neck the moment the knife slid tight against it. He rushed towards her as Pierre let her fall and dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry," he cried as he pressed his hands to the wound. Only a few hours ago she'd been a complete stranger, but she'd helped him; she'd cared for him and now because of him she was going to die. "Please Claire I'm sorry."
Her chocolate eyes locked on his hazel ones and she spluttered out softly, "No. Bl-Blaine."
"Claire, please, I'm so sorry…" He paused when her eyes fluttered, "Claire?"
"S-swe-sweet boy," she murmured as her hand came up weakly to cup his cheek, "Don-don't be sorry. I-I'm sorry- wanted to save you."
"Claire, please don't die," he begged even as he felt a hand grasp his hair, sending stinging pain into his scalp and pulling him back, up and away from her.
Her breathing shuddered and stopped as Pierre wrapped one hand over his mouth and the other jabbed a needle into his arm. He fell limp into blackness against his kidnapper.
He'd been right about the bloodshed.
A/N: Song is Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne. There'll be a new chapter on Tuesday February 21st! Sorry for the heart-breakage in this chapter, but with this story you should be used to it by now.
Also I want to let you know that after Chapter 10 I may need to go down to posting once a week. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. I have my reading week this week so I'm going to try to get as much done as I can in order to stay at twice a week. Thanks so much for sticking with me guys/gals!
Oh yes, and as always, please review!
