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 it's so late in the day, but I had to work and move stuff! At least it's still Friday… well at least in my time zone it is! Also, I did edit this, but not as thoroughly as I usually do. I'm going to go back and edit again tomorrow sometime, but I desperately wanted to get something up for you on time so I apologize if there are any errors. Thanks guys/gals!
This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but don't worry chapter 11 is almost 5000 words and I haven't even edited yet (they always get longer in editing).
Chapter 10: Too High a Cost
September 2013
"Here," Blaine peeled Kurt's hand and the ice pack in it away from his face, "Let me take a look at that." He peered at the bruises forming on Kurt's face and winced, "Well the swelling's gone down a bit at least." His eyes peered over at the clock on the wall.
"What is it?" Kurt asked softly, placing the ice pack back onto his face.
"I don't know when Pierre's coming back," Blaine told him in a quiet voice, putting a hand on Kurt's arm. "I hate to think what he would do if he came back and you weren't where he left you."
Kurt looked down at his feet, which was a little bit difficult considering he was sure one of his eyes had swollen almost shut. "It's not like I can go anywhere."
"I don't want to risk it," Blaine shook his head. He gently pulled Kurt to his feet, supporting him when he wobbled due to his bound ankles. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, lifting him slightly. Kurt's arms automatically wrapped around his neck; holding onto him as he carried him back over to the kitchen.
He settled him gently back into the chair.
"Well that was fun," Kurt muttered under his breath, bringing his hands behind his back and letting Blaine bind them. He didn't think he could fight if he tried. His head was still buzzing with pain and he knew even if he got away that Blaine would never follow him.
A rope wrapped around his torso too; holding him to the back of the chair.
"Sorry, it's not like I like it," Blaine told him in a soft voice. He moved over to pick up the now thawed bag of peas and returned it to the freezer. He sat down in one of the wooden chairs and looked at Kurt. "You understand that if I had a choice I would let you go. If I had any choice in the matter I would go with you."
"You have a choice," Kurt said with a small shake of his head. "That man isn't even here right now."
"He could come back at any second," Blaine insisted in a hoarse voice. "I know you don't get it Kurt, but I've tried to run before. It doesn't end well. The first time I tried to run he-" he shook his head. "He was really angry Kurt. He really hurt me- and the second time. The second time I got someone killed. She- she was just trying to help me. I know you're just trying to help Kurt, but that just gets people killed. I can't let anyone else die because of me. I can't watch anyone else die; especially not you. I wouldn't- I wouldn't survive it."
"Okay," Kurt murmured in a soft voice. He turned his head and looked at Blaine, his eyes softening, "Blaine… just how many people has he made you watch him murder?"
Blaine lowered his eyes, "Two." He swallowed thickly and explained, "He killed Cal because he- Cal I mean- didn't want to hurt me. Cal just wanted get the money and let me go. Pierre didn't want to pay him and didn't want him messing things up; like him keeping me. So he shot him. I was taped to a chair so I couldn't really do anything."
Kurt frowned, and opened his mouth softly, "Blaine, I'm sorry."
"That wasn't the worst," Blaine told him with a small shrug, still not looking at Kurt. "I ran away once. I mean I really got away. This woman, Claire, found me and took me back to her place. I was so dazed and confused. It was so cold out and I'm pretty sure I was in shock. She wanted to call the police, but I wanted to sleep first. I was stupid and it got her killed. When I woke up- Pierre was there and he had a knife to her neck. I don't even know how he found me."
"Blaine," Kurt whispered, wishing he could put a gentle hand on the other boy.
"She was nice to me and I begged him to let her live, but he didn't. He just- he slit her throat and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save her Kurt. I- then he drugged me. When I woke up I was tied to the bed." He chewed on his lip, "I can't let you die Kurt. I can't watch you die. It would kill me. I have to listen to him; for both of us. It's the only way. It's how I survive."
Tears pricked at his eyes and he nodded his head. "Okay Blaine. Okay. I won't try to go anywhere. I won't risk our lives. I promise."
"You'll listen to him?" Blaine asked in a desperate voice. "Please tell me you'll listen to him. If you do he'll- he'll be less likely to hurt you." He lowered his voice, "I really don't want him to be tempted Kurt. I'm going to try to keep him satisfied, but you have to be as quiet as possible. Just try not to draw any attention to yourself, okay?"
Kurt's throat and stomach both tightened and the tears brimmed over slightly, "What do you mean 'keep him satisfied'?"
"Just try not to think about it," Blaine told him in a small voice. He shook his head and looked over at the clock again. "It's almost supper time. I should get started."
"Blaine, please don't do whatever you're thinking of doing, okay? I'll be fine. I'll just be quiet and unassuming and I won't make him mad. You don't have to put yourself in a situation where he'll rape you more often."
"Kurt, stop," Blaine told him in a hoarse tone. "Stop talking."
"Blaine, please don't," Kurt whispered in a pleading tone.
"I asked you to stop talking," Blaine repeated in as firm as tone as he could muster. He moved to the fridge and started pulling out a frozen lasagne, before setting the oven.
Kurt stared over at him, tears slipping down his bruised face even through his swollen eye. He didn't speak as per Blaine's wishes and instead sniffed, trying to keep back his tears.
Blaine stopped what he was doing at the sounds of Kurt's quiet crying. He set the items down on the counter and stepped in front of Kurt and dropped to his knees. "Hey," he said quietly, peering up into Kurt's eyes, "Kurt I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
Kurt didn't talk to him instead he just looked at him, tears running down his face.
"Kurt talk to me," Blaine reached up his hands and gently let his fingers wipe away the tears. He brought them back quickly when Kurt flinched at the contact.
"I thought you wanted me to stop talking," Kurt whispered with a shake of his head.
"I just don't like talking about that aspect of my relationship with Pierre," Blaine explained in a soft voice. "It's a sensitive topic." He paused and shook his head, before asking, "Did I hurt you?"
"No, my whole face just hurts," Kurt murmured, his jaw trembling. "I'm pretty sure everything hurts."
"I'll do whatever it takes so he doesn't hurt you again," Blaine promised him fervently. He gently placed a kiss on Kurt's lips.
Kurt didn't comment, but he didn't want Blaine to keep his promise. He knew what it would cost the other boy and it was breaking his heart.
June 2012
Kurt settled the red graduation cap on his head and gave his parents a grimacing smile. It was ruining his hair, and Blaine wasn't there to see it.
"Well go on, get closer to Finn! We need to get some pictures of the two of you," Carole waved her hand in a motion to have Kurt to slide in closer to his step-brother.
Kurt shuffled next to his brother and faked his brightest smile as Carole snapped off a few pictures. As soon as the flashes stopped the smile fell and his shoulders slumped.
Finn swung an arm over his slumped shoulders, "Dude, what's wrong? You're all sad and stuff."
Kurt shrugged his shoulders and bit down on his lip as tears built up in his eyes and threatened to brim over, "Blaine should be here."
Finn's arm squeezed around him gently, "I'm sorry man. I guess it must be tough; you know, since before everything happened you expected him to be here for this stuff."
Kurt nodded and the two boys stepped away from their parents. Burt and Carole left them be, knowing that at this moment Kurt needed a brother more than anything else. Finn had slowly turned into his rock over the past ten months.
Kurt licked his lips and spoke softly to his brother, "I know he wouldn't have been graduating with us or anything, and he might have chosen to stay at Dalton despite what he told Bri, but he would have been here. He probably would have brought me flowers or something ridiculously romantic like that. I just- I miss him. I miss him more than I ever thought I could." The tears brimmed over and slipped down his cheeks, "This is supposed to be a happy day, but without him it's just not right."
"I know," Finn wrapped both his arms around his brother and held him tightly. "It's not fair man. It's not fair what happened, to either of you. Blaine didn't deserve that- and you didn't deserve to lose him. I'm sorry dude. I wish he could be here for you too."
"I just- I love him so much and him not being here- it is torture Finn. It is pure torture," Kurt whispered desperately. He stopped and looked at his brother before he added softly, "It's like I can't get over him because I still think he's going to come home."
"Kurt," Finn shook his head sadly, "He's not going to come home. You said yourself that his dad heard it happen. Even if whoever took him didn't do it at that moment; he wouldn't have kept him long without the money. I'm sorry man, I'm really sorry, but he's gone."
"Then why do I still feel him?" Kurt whispered pathetically, his hand clutching at his graduation robes over his heart. "Why do I still feel him right here Finn?"
"I don't know man," Finn sighed, squeezing his arms around Kurt again tightly and rubbing gentle, small circles into his brother's back. "I guess- I guess even though Blaine died- that love like the kind you two shared, never does. Love doesn't die Kurt, so I guess you keep on loving him even though he's gone or something."
"I just wish he was here," Kurt murmured into his brother's chest. He pulled away and sniffled softly, "I wish he could be here to see this; to be with me."
"Maybe he is," Finn told him in a careful, somewhat hesitant voice. "Look dude. I know you don't believe in God or whatever, but what if you're wrong and Blaine can see this? Would he want to see you so sad on a day like today?"
"Look Finn-" Kurt snapped, the change in subject irritating him. Blaine's death had only cemented his belief that God was just a fallacy, "-even if there is a God, which I don't believe there is; do you really think he would have let Blaine in? He was gay Finn, just like me. I'm sorry but I can't believe in a God who could make someone gay and then hate them for it. It seems kind of stupid to me."
"I don't think He's like that," Finn shrugged his shoulders. "I figure maybe it's us who got it wrong. Like, God does love gay people too, but we like messed up and just made it out like He'd hate them because it made us uncomfortable or something."
Kurt softened at his brother's words. It was a nice sentiment, that somewhere out there Blaine was happy, even if he could never truly belief it. "Well, even if I don't believe it myself; I still kind of wish it were true. It would be nice at least." He almost shook his head, "I wish I could believe in that stuff Finn. I wish I could believe that Blaine's up there somewhere with my mom and happy, but I don't- and I can't."
Finn wrapped his arms around him again, "You don't have to Kurt, but that doesn't change that Blaine wouldn't want to see you sad. He loved you so much. He'd want you to be happy, you know?"
Kurt gave a small nod and faked a smile. "You're probably right."
June 2012
The sound of his bedroom door slamming open broke Blaine from his sleep and he scrambled out of bed immediately as Pierre growled at him, "Get up. Let's go."
He frowned in confusion, before a little bit of hope lit up his face. Pierre had mentioned pretty recently that his behaviour had improved enough that he might be allowed an escorted trip outside. He missed the heat of the sun, or the feeling of a gentle breeze. Sure there were windows, but it just wasn't the same. "Go where?"
He rarely argued anymore, rarely fought back and had taken over all the in-house chores; doing his best to keep the man content and satisfied. Pierre was still rough with him, still hit him, but his last severe beating had been nearly three weeks before.
It was definitely a significant improvement.
"The living room, dumbass," Pierre snapped at him and his shoulders slumped slightly.
"Oh," he murmured softly, padding after the man quietly. In the middle of the apartment's living room was a mannequin dressed in mismatching clothes and adorned with several small bells. His brows furrowed in confusion and he dared to ask in a small voice, "What's going on?"
"You're going to start training," Pierre let out a low chuckle. "I figure you're too much of a wimp to actually rob somebody so we're going to work our way up. Understand?"
"I- not really," he mumbled, bowing his head.
Pierre rolled his eyes irritably. "You're going to be a pickpocket. Not yet, obviously. I still need to make sure I can trust you after that stunt in February," Pierre's voice darkened dangerously at the mention of his escape attempt. "Plus an idiot like you is going to need a lot of practice before I can let you out there without getting caught."
Blaine chewed his lower lip softly, but didn't speak. He was used to hearing those casual insults, but they still ate away at the very infrastructure of his fragile self-esteem like termites each time they were thrown at him. He could only imagine eventually the rotting supports would eventually be eaten away enough that he'd collapse -implode- into a wreck to be remodelled to Pierre's will.
Sometimes he wondered if it hadn't happened already.
"Well go ahead, try to lift something," Pierre snapped at his silence.
He blinked and stepped forward letting his fingers reach for the old leather wallet in the dummy's back pocket. Almost immediately he heard the small sound of a bell, before Pierre grabbed him and sent a fist hard into his stomach.
He gasped, falling to his knees in front of the dummy as he tried to take in the breath that had been forced out of him. His arms wrapped around his stomach tightly and he looked up at Pierre, his eyes watery and confused.
"I figure," Pierre began to explain with a spiteful laugh, "you'll learn faster if you have a very substantial reason not to fail. Every time I hear a bell, expect punishment for it." There was a pause and Blaine swallowed thickly, "Get up and try again."
He forced himself to his feet silently. He reached out for the wallet again, trying to keep his fingers as still as possible even as they shook with fear. He hesitated, his jaw trembling and his eyes flickering between where Pierre was watching intently and the mannequin he was supposed to be robbing.
"Do it!" Pierre snarled at him and he flinched violently.
He reached forward and touched the wallet, letting out a breath of relief when he didn't hear the bell ring. He tugged lightly, trying to keep his movements smooth before hearing a light tinkling that made him cringe, which only made the bell ring again and a little more loudly.
A hand grabbed his shirt and threw him down on the floor next to the mannequin and he curled up instinctively to protect his stomach, even as two sharp kicks pounded against his back and made him bite back yelps of pain.
"Up! Try again," Pierre was yelling at him and he forced himself onto his hands and knees, before gingerly getting back up on his feet.
He sniffed slightly, trying to suck back the wetness in his eyes and wiped his face warily, before obediently making another attempt at removing the wallet.
The bell rang again and as pain exploded through his side he wondered if Pierre's training techniques would be what eventually killed him.
A/N: Drop me a review please! I love 'em.