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. Its 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. There is some violence as well.
A/N: Every time I get one of your reviews I get ridiculously happy and smile like an idiot. Thanks so much for making me smile guys/gals, especially when everything's so stressful lately. I'm in the middle of a move to a bigger/better apartment and my current apartment has no hot water! My current landlord refused to fix it because I'm 'moving out anyway' so for the next week and a half I have to drive back and forth from my friends house to shower.
Also wanted to mention that someone wanted to know about just how Pierre found Blaine, but unfortunately it isn't discussed in the plot of the story since the points of view (despite being third person) never actually come from Pierre. It's actually kind of imperative that Blaine doesn't know how, because it's part of what convinces him that Pierre will always find him, no matter where he goes. I personally know how it he found him, so if you really want to know I'll explain it in the a/n at the end of this chapter.
Chapter 9 – All a Ploy
September 2013
"Kurt?" Blaine whispered, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs next to the other boy. "Were you lying- when Pierre asked you that question?"
Kurt looked at him strangely, his brows furrowed, before asking, "What question?"
"When he asked- you know-" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "if you were- um- a virgin?"
"I wasn't lying," Kurt told him with a small shake of his head. "I am." He shrugged his shoulders, "It's not a big deal really."
"Why though?" Blaine asked; his throat thick. "I thought- I thought you started dating some football player or something?"
Kurt's eyes stared at Blaine's for a long moment. "How did you know about that?"
Blaine shrugged. "I guess Pierre managed to keep tabs for a while. He told me how well everyone was doing without me."
"No one was doing well without you," Kurt snapped quietly, turning his head away from Blaine. Blaine's hand lay against Kurt's cheek and turned his head towards him to see the tears in his eyes. Kurt looked him in the eyes and continued softly, "Least of all me."
"Wh-what do you mean?" Blaine asked shakily. "I thought- I thought my parents were better off without me- that the Warblers replaced me- that you replaced me."
Kurt's arms moved as if to try to take him into his arms, but he was held back by the ropes holding him to the chair. "You're irreplaceable Blaine. We're all miserable without you. Your parents kept inviting me over for dinner so we could talk about you. Brianna barely spoke for weeks and when she went to McKinley- she started hiding behind this mask. She practically turned into Santana, hiding behind the cheerleading uniform, only not promiscuous. She's sharp and angry; not like the girl she used to be. Joey blames himself for not giving you a ride home. He dropped out of university to train to be a police officer. Your dad- your dad was- he drank a lot for a while. He blames himself for losing you too. He thinks- he thinks if he'd done what Pierre had said, that he would have gotten you back."
Blaine shook his head, "Pierre would have never let me go. He'll never let me go."
"That doesn't change how your dad feels," Kurt whispered, before adding in a quiet voice. "Your mom- I don't think she goes a minute without thinking of you. She goes in your room and keeps it spotless; waiting for you to come home. I guess she never really accepted you were dead, and now I know she was right. Wes stayed back a year. He didn't want to go to college anymore; at least not the first year. He said it didn't feel right that he got to go away while you- while we all thought you'd been murdered. He thinks of you of the little brother he never had- and lost. David- David made Nick lead soloist, but he quit. He didn't want to take your place. In the end they gave the spot to a new kid, but they didn't go very far." Kurt shook his head, "They had trouble because every time they picked a song they thought about what it would have sounded like with you singing it- at least that's what David told me. The focus was broken- the unity."
"They really all missed me that much?" Blaine asked, moving closer to Kurt and leaning his head into his neck.
"Yes," Kurt nodded softly. "Mercedes and Rachel really missed you too, and Finn."
"What about you?"
"Other than your family I think I missed you the most," Kurt whispered, tears slipping down his face easily. "I made myself date after a while, but it was so hard. I dated Dave- yeah Karofsky- for a few weeks, but I could barely let him touch me at all. It wasn't about that he used to bully me- it was that his hand wasn't your hand so I couldn't hold it. His lips weren't your lips so I couldn't kiss them. He broke up with me after three weeks. He said it was obvious that I wasn't over you. He understood; believe it or not." Kurt shook his head. "I dated a lot of guys Blaine. I even dated your replacement in the Warblers, but when I couldn't give myself to him, he dumped me too. I dated a lot, especially in college, but nothing ever came of it because none of them were you. Don't you understand how loved you are; how much everyone wants you to come home?"
"I'm ruined now, Kurt," Blaine whispered, sitting up straight again. "They won't love me when they find out what I've done."
"You're not ruined, and they kind of know Blaine. At least, your family knows what- what Pierre's capable of-"
"Because of what he said at the drop," Blaine whispered, remembering the cruel words and his father's outraged, distraught reaction.
"Exactly," Kurt said in a soft voice. "He saw the bruises Blaine. He knew you didn't want it. He wasn't angry with you, he was heartbroken you had to go through that."
"That was then- when I still fought him," Blaine pinched his bottom lip between his teeth tightly. "How- how could he- how could any of them still love me after everything I've done? Kurt the things he's made me do- the things I've done-"
"You haven't done anything!" Kurt was suddenly yelling in a cracked, tearful voice, "You've only had things done to you, things forced on you; that's different Blaine! That's different."
Footsteps pounded down the hall and Blaine jumped out of his chair, putting himself between Kurt and a raging Pierre, "Out of my way, Blaine."
"Pierre, please-"
A fist smashed against his cheek before he was thrown sideways to tumble down to the floor. His head cracked against the wall and he pressed a hand to it as he tried to scramble to his feet. A foot kicked his side hard and he lay still, knowing better than to even think of moving. It would only make him angrier and more dangerous.
Pierre's hand was curled into Kurt's hair while another was beating him furiously about his head, "You-" Blaine watched in silent terror as another blow rained onto the boy he loved, "better-" another blow, "learn-" another, "to shut-" a withering blow hit that forced a strangle cry of pain from Kurt, "up!"
Pierre gripped the sides of the chair and threw it hard onto its side, sending Kurt roughly to the floor. A foot was sent hard into his stomach, letting out an 'oof' as all the air was forced from his lungs.
Kurt was struggling like a wildcat in the ropes binding him, tears drenching his cheeks and as another kick was aimed his way, Blaine threw himself in front. His fingers fumbled with the ropes binding Kurt's torso to the chair as the boot connected with his back.
He pulled the other boy, hands still bound behind him, into a corner and protectively took a spot in front of him while pleading, "Pierre, he's sorry. He's sorry. Please- he- he needs to be in good shape if you want his dad to pay the ransom. Please- it's my fault. You- you can hurt me instead. Please."
Pierre stopped and stared at the two boys, before saying in a dispassionate voice, "You better make sure he learns the rules Blaine; unless you want me to teach him the way I taught you."
Blaine shook his head vigorously. "No- no. I'll make sure he listens and learns the rules and- and is quiet, okay? I'll make sure. Please- I'll make sure he's good. I promise."
Pierre's eyes swept over them and Blaine's heart stopped for a moment, before he turned on his heel with a sharp, "I'm going out. Have dinner ready when I get back." There was a small pause, "He doesn't eat today- punishment for his misbehaviour."
Blaine nodded his head softly, "O-okay."
The door slammed behind Pierre on the way out and Blaine turned to look at Kurt. "Kurt? Are you okay?" He pressed a thumb gently over his cheek and grimaced when Kurt winced in pain. "It's okay," he murmured to him, at a loss of what to do. Kurt was in pain and the very thought was scrambling his brains as he tried to think of a solution. "I'll take care of you. I'll- I'll get you some ice!"
He scrambled over to the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas, before wrapping it carefully in a dish towel. He kneeled down in front of Kurt and pressed it gently against the already swelling eye and cheek.
Kurt let out a little hiss of pain and Blaine swallowed thickly. Carefully he removed the ice pack and grabbed the other boy under the armpits, lifting him back onto his feet and supporting him gently when he swayed. "You'll be more comfortable on the couch I bet," he murmured both to himself and to Kurt.
He settled the still silent boy into a sitting position and grabbed the impromptu ice pack again, putting it against Kurt's face. He frowned after a few moments and laid the ice pack in Kurt's lap. He sighed. "Turn around, okay?"
Kurt turned his body, wincing as he did and looked sincerely confused when the ropes fell away from his wrists.
"I need you to hold that to your face," Blaine told him in a quiet voice. "You can't do that with your hands tied behind your back." He bit down on his lip, "but if Pierre comes back he might kill you if I leave you untied. I- I-"
Kurt pressed the pack against his face and finally spoke in a very soft voice, "You can tie my ankles together so I can't run. I mean I know technically I could reach down and untie myself, but if you do a good job you'd notice before I could finish, right? If he comes back too soon you can tell him that."
Blaine nodded, sighing a breath of relief at the suggestion and took the rope in his hands before tying a complicated knot around Kurt's ankles.
"I think I get it now," Kurt whispered in a small voice, biting down on his lip. "I still don't understand why you think you love him- or why you think he loves you- but I think I get why you stay." He shuddered and winced again at the pain even that very slight movement gave him, "You don't want to make him angry." He swallowed thickly, "I don't want to make him angry either. I don't know if I'd survive it."
Blaine nodded his head, "It's not easy." He chewed his lip again, before going to the fridge and pulling out some milk. Some ice came from the freezer along with some frozen strawberries. He grabbed a banana from the counter and peeled it.
"What are you doing?" Kurt asked quietly, still pressing the pea ice pack to his bruising face.
"Making you a smoothie," Blaine told him with a tight smile.
"But-"
"He said you couldn't eat. You won't be. You'll be drinking it," Blaine smiled again, although this time more weakly, before adding, "It's going to be bad enough not having dinner, but you definitely need to have something." He sliced the banana and put it into the blender with the other fruit, milk and ice.
When he was done he poured it into a cup and brought it over. "Just drink it Kurt. He can't get mad at you for having a drink, right? He can only get mad at me for making it."
"I don't want to get you hurt-" Kurt started but Blaine just took the cup and pressed it to his lips.
"Please Kurt," Blaine murmured. "Whatever he does, I can handle it. I'm used to it. I just- I have to do what I can for you. This is my fault and- I- I need to fix it somehow."
Kurt looked up at him and shook his head, "It's not your fault Blaine. We're in an impossible situation and you're dealing with it the best you can."
"Yeah well it's not good enough, is it?" Blaine asked, still holding out the smoothie with one hand as the other stroked lightly over Kurt's forming bruise. "Please just drink it?"
Kurt let out a small sigh, took the cup in one hand and sipped at it.
February 2012
Blaine's eyes fluttered open weakly as the blurry image of his room came shrouded into his vision. He blinked a few more times, letting the room clear and he bit back a whimper when he saw Pierre crouched by the window, inspecting it.
He tried to sit up but nylon rope cut into his wrists, holding him to the bed. He turned his head first to one side then the other and swallowed thickly, noting that his hands were no longer covered in blood. Even when he'd first come to be with Pierre he'd never been bound like this. Before he'd only ever had his wrists tied together around one of the wooden bars on the headboard. It had never been the most comfortable sleeping position, but he'd managed.
Now his arms were stretched out on either side of him, each wrist bound to a different bedpost. At the foot of the bed his ankles were bound similarly, further restricting his movements so that all he could so was shift slightly and move his head.
He closed his eyes, hoping Pierre hadn't noticed the very slight movements he'd been making and tried to feign unconsciousness. He was never beaten while unconscious, or so he assumed. At the very least he'd never woken up with injuries that hadn't been afflicted while he was still awake.
He heard the movements as Pierre stood up and walked out of the bedroom. A small sigh of relief blew past his lips despite himself. He caught himself as the door opened again and lay as still as possible, all the while listening carefully as he heard something being carried into the room.
There was a strange metallic clang and the sound of an electric drill and he braved opening his eyes a mere millimeter to peer at Pierre through his eyelashes.
He was attaching a set of metal bars to the window.
Blaine lay silently atop the bed, trying to keep tears from collecting in the corners of his eyes. That would be a dead giveaway that he was conscious, but he almost couldn't help himself because suddenly Claire's terrified face was in his mind as blood gurgled at her throat and in her mouth.
A small broken sob escaped his mouth. She had died because of him.
Pierre's head turned in his direction for a moment, and Blaine could see him scowling angrily through the slits of his eyes. He slipped them back down until they were completely shut, not wanting to look at the rage in the man's face.
The sound of the power tool continued for another few minutes until it stopped and he heard it being set on the ground. His chest and stomach clenched tightly as he heard the footsteps that signalled Pierre's approach.
There was a depression on the bed and then a weight pressed into his chest making it difficult to breathe. A hand grasped his chin and another slapped him hard across the face, "Open your eyes Blaine. I know you're faking it."
Obediently he blinked his eyes open and stared up at the man sitting on his chest. He tried to swallow the thick lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go down.
"Now see Blaine," Pierre spoke in a deceptively calm voice that he knew way too well. It was the voice of suppressed anger that always came before the worst of his beatings. "I thought you'd learned the meaning of loyalty, of obedience and fealty. I thought you learned that you were mine, but obviously the lesson didn't stick, isn't that right?"
Blaine knew the proper response. If he agreed it wouldn't be as bad as it would be if he said he'd done nothing wrong. "No, the lesson didn't stick. I'm sorry."
"That means I have to teach you again, doesn't it?" Pierre asked with his voice dark and pointed.
"Yes," Blaine whispered back, tears collecting in his eyes again.
"What do you think will make the lesson stick Blaine? How should I teach you?" Pierre asked in the same terrifying voice.
Blaine tried to suck in a breath but his lungs wouldn't expand properly due to the weight pressing down on them. Pierre's favourite punishment was sex, but he couldn't make himself ask for it. Instead he said in a pained whisper, "I deserve to be beaten."
"You do," Pierre agreed with a nod, and he almost let out a sigh of relief. Being beaten, while not ideal, was definitely the lesser of two evils. His relief was very short lived as Pierre started leaning down and spoke quietly, "but that doesn't seem to be imprinting the lesson. I think a more serious punishment is in order. We may need to start over-" there was a pause that made Blaine's stomach feel like it was sinking deep in his body. "You're not going to be leaving this room for a long time. You're not going to be leaving this bed, as a matter of fact."
"But- but what if I have to use the bathroom?" Blaine asked in a whisper, the tears that had collected in his eyes slid down the sides of his face.
Pierre let out a laugh that chilled his bones, "A once a day exception, I suppose." He leaned down again and grasped Blaine's face tightly. "And during this time I'll just have to instil upon you just why you can't leave."
There was a pause and Blaine tried to speak, hoping it might make his punishment slightly more lenient, "Be-because I belong to you?"
Pierre's mouth upturned in a small grin, "That's one, important reason, but Blaine there are more. More that I didn't tell you because I care about you. Do you think I really like doing this?"
'Yes!' His brain screamed, but he carefully spoke the opposite, "No?"
Pierre chuckled and patted his cheek lightly.
Blaine winced at the hand, waiting for the moment when his punishment would come. It was almost worse, knowing it was coming, but not when. This game of fake gentleness was making his muscles scream as the tension built up in them increased due to nervousness and terrified anticipation.
"Oh Blainey," Pierre shook his head, his voice suddenly soft. "You can't leave because you have nowhere to go. I'm the only one who cares now. Everyone else thinks you're dead. Your parents have moved on, finally unhindered by their faggot son; after all they still have their perfect, straight son and perfect little cheerleader daughter. Your brother doesn't have to worry about taking care of your worthless self. Your sister finally can stop fake caring. I'm sure that stupid singing group has replaced you by now. You may think you're talented, but I've heard you in the shower, you're just so-so. You're little faggot boyfriend's dating some burly football player." There was a soft pause. "They're all over you Blainey. You're dead to them; dead. I'm the only one who cares about you now."
Blaine swallowed his voice thick as he whispered, "H-how do you know all this about me?"
The hand patted his cheek again, this time a little harder so it was almost like a slap, "I've been keeping tabs. I may or may not still have friends in Lima. Really Blaine, do you really think Cal grabbed you by accident? I hired him Blaine- to kidnap you." Laughter grew in Pierre's throat. "Of course he thought it was all for ransom. Then again he actually thought I was going to pay him too- and let him live."
"But- but," Blaine whispered in a soft voice, "He said- he said he was running from the police."
The laugh grew into a guffaw, "A ruse to make you think he'd let you go- so you'd be easier to manage and less likely to fight back." The hand stroked his cheek, "It was all a ploy. I was watching you for weeks. Since the first time I saw you, only days after my release, I knew I had to have you and no one was going to stop me, not even the idiot I hired. You're parents being rich was just icing on the cake, even if it didn't work out quite the way I had hoped."
The hand that had stroked his cheek dug back into his hair, pulling his head back painfully, "Of course they obviously didn't really ever love you, did they? If they had there would never have been a police presence, no matter how miniscule. If they'd really loved you they would have just handed over the money like good parents. I guess they didn't though, did they? Your dad was a little too keen to hold onto his money to really love you. If any of them ever did love you, they won't now."
A hand wrapped around his throat tightly; giving a punishing squeeze.
Tears were streaming down his face now as his eyes started to bulge slightly from lack of oxygen.
"No one will. You're ruined now," Pierre told him in a harsh whisper, removing his hand so he could gasp for breath. "Forget them Blaine. I'm the only one who gives a damn."
A sob broke from his throat and a backhand slammed against the side of his head. The beating had finally begun, but between each withering blow came a new verbal affirmation (pathetic, useless, unloved, unwanted) that he was a ruined boy that no one would ever love; no one but Pierre.
February 2012
It was strange to kiss a boy that wasn't Blaine. It was even stranger when the boy he was kissing was none other than David Karofsky; the boy that had stolen his first kiss that counted.
His lips were rough, and the wrong shape and just a little too insistent for his taste. They weren't the soft, sweet, cinnamon flavoured lips he was used to kissing. They weren't Blaine's.
Kurt pulled back abruptly, breaking off the kiss and let out a small sigh, "I'm sorry Dave."
Dave's larger hand reached over and patted his, "I get it, Fancy," what had once been offensive had turned into an affectionate nickname. "It's tough. Maybe you're doing this a little more quickly than you should. I mean- it's only been six months since he's been gone. It might be too soon."
"Except he's gone David," Kurt shook his head, slipping his slightly smaller hand into David's. "It's about time I forced myself to move on."
David's hand left his and he was almost relieved that the other boy had given him an easy out. Holding his hand was almost as hard as kissing him, sometimes harder. There were no guitar callouses on Dave's fingers. "You can't force it." Dave shook his head, "Look Kurt. I really care about you. I do, but I can't do this, either."
"What?"
"Compete with a dead boy," he murmured. David shook his head and took a breath. "I like you so much Kurt, but I want you to be happy and I don't know how to make you happy. I'll admit there were times when I used to wish he would just disappear, but now that he has- and seeing you so miserable- I'd do anything to bring the little hobbit back here to see you happy again." He smiled weakly, "I know before I used to like seeing you miserable, but that's because I was so miserable too- now it just hurts seeing you like this."
"I wish I could love you the way you want me too," Kurt murmured with a shake of his head. He bit down on his lip and admitted, "I don't think I can though- not when I keep holding out hope that he'll somehow miraculously come back to me."
"I hate to say it, but he's not going to Kurt," David told him, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy in a gentle hug.
"It just doesn't feel like he's gone," Kurt whispered, his voice small. "I still feel him- I still feel like he's out there somewhere waiting for me to save him. It just hurts Dave."
"I know," he squeezed a little tighter. "Whenever it does, you know you can come to me okay? Despite this whole break up thing, we can still be friends. I still want to be your friend Kurt, but I just can't do this. It hurts too much."
Kurt nodded his head, "I understand Dave. You deserve someone who can give themselves to you wholly not someone who's still clinging onto the past and wishing it was the present."
"That's funny," Dave told him, laughing weakly, "All I ever wanted was you and now that I've got you- I don't know. It's not what I imagined."
"A lot of the time that's how a first crush is," Kurt shrugged his shoulders as his heart tightened.
"Or a first love," David murmured, looking pained at the information he'd so freely given to the boy he was breaking up with.
"Yeah," Kurt nodded his head, thinking of his own first love. "I never imagined it would end like this."
A/N: So for those of you who wanted to know how Pierre found Blaine (if it doesn't matter to you then you can skip this and go straight to reviewing -wink-) I had it in my head that Pierre suspected all along that Blaine was planning to escape. This is why he already had the bars for the window in this chapter. He followed him and when he saw Claire he formed a plan in his head to terrify Blaine into never trying to escape again. So he followed them to the apartment, listened at the door to make sure that he could get into the apartment before anyone actually called the police and broke in just as Claire was picking up the phone to call while Blaine was asleep.
Of course Blaine being unaware of Pierre's actions didn't see any of this and therefore it wasn't fleshed out within the narrative. Anyway so there you go.
Please drop me a review!
