A/N: Hi again. Thanks to you who reviewed and/or favorited this story, it's really nice . Please let me know what you think of this chapter because… it's the first real look into Blaine's head. Kind of difficult to write haha. And Klaine. You'll find I'm addicted to Blaine and angst together. I don't know what it is about it.
The POVs are very – diverse? – from here on out, between three characters we all know and love hahaha. Different perspectives and things.
Expect Angry Santana soon hahaha.
Burt looked thoughtful for a moment before sighing and nodding, rubbing his hands over his face. "Alright. Well, I need you to promise me you're going to try to - I don't know, to help out that Santana."
Kurt nodded, teeth tightly clamped over his bottom lip. Blaine swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. It was those moments when the all-familiar thoughts in his head swirled that he just felt a need for Kurt nearly to the point of pain. He just wanted to pin him on the couch of his basement and hear his excited, breathless laugh as he pressed his lips to his neck. He would even settle for the cold floor of Rachel's basement bathroom with a very tipsy, giggly Kurt pressing his wrist by his head to plant a long, forceful kiss on his mouth. The place they'd been barely a few hours ago. But as Kurt sobered up, he could tell that Blaine's kisses were too soft and his breathing was too shaky to not have anything painful on his mind. So he couldn't. Even if he desperately wanted to. Kurt would sense it and want to talk and he was afraid of talking about those things to Kurt more than to anyone else.
Kurt already knew. Santana's rant from that time outside her locker had it written all inside. It was a simple slip-up but he'd been there before. It was a spark of luck whenever nobody noticed. It sent him into a whirlwind of panic and terror that was too familiar and by the time Kurt had him out of the school he had gone back to before, building a wall the size of the lump in his throat, letting the black splotches fill in his vision.
Until his legs couldn't walk that fast anymore, it worked. He didn't think about the blood or the bruises or the scarlet span of broken skin. But as the grass toward the parking lot became a slow-moving liquid cement, he was slowing down and the ground was pulling him toward it.
Kurt's cool hand was one thing he felt on his body and he knew what was happening. Blaine knew that this was what used to happen. He used to shut out everything at even the slightest reminder of what should have been of him.
I'm so scared to be this way, I'm so finished and I'm so tired and even though sometimes I think that it would be easier, I haven't - I don't know - like, killed myself off yet, okay?
He was so good, so strong, so perfect, so close. His only weaknesses were Kurt and reminders. And putting the two together would have him in tiny broken pieces.
"Blaine? Blaine." He kept hearing Kurt's voice but suddenly it was the previous years for everywhere but his hand.
But he couldn't. He couldn't do that again. That was hell. It was hell and he was letting himself become that again.
However, once the wall was up, the wall was up. Almost nothing could pull him out.
God, I haven't jumped off a bridge yet, even though I'm just... I'm dying inside because of all this.
"Oh my God, Blaine." Kurt had his hands on Blaine's face, that he knew for sure. One on either side. Confused, frantic voice over the rush.
As quickly as it started, it stopped, and Blaine found himself sitting on the concrete with his back against Kurt's car. Kurt's face wavered in front of his face before solidifying. He was crouched in front of him. His eyes were wide and he held Blaine's face with both hands.
"Sorry, sorry." His voice felt runny, slurred and his words trailed. He swallowed thickly, trying to get the blue of Kurt's eyes into focus.
Kurt sighed loudly, laughing quietly without smiling out of relief, "God, I just about had a heart attack." His eyes went back to frightened just as fast as they'd changed. "What's going on? What's wrong?"
Blaine's hands trembled as he raised them to press them onto the back of Kurt's neck and pull him down toward him. Kurt paused, eyes scanning over his face worriedly, and then ducked his head. Blaine pulled him in and pressed his lips to Kurt's. Kurt pressed one hand onto the car behind Blaine's head, moving his head to a more accessible angle.
Blaine's head spun. He moved his hand to Kurt's cheek, touching his skin gently and wanting to never let go. Feeling himself slipping into old habits was scaring him and all he wanted then was to let Kurt unknowingly hold him down like a rope to a hot air balloon. He pushed deeper into the kiss, lips tingling. He pulled back minutely, their noses still touching, "I love you." He whispered, breaths coming shakily. Just seconds ago he was falling apart like he was destined to and he needed to hold himself down now. Make it real.
Kurt pulled away and pushed Blaine lightly back onto the car, breathless. "And I love you too." He told him with a sort of sad worry in his eyes that made Blaine's chest tighten, "What's going on, Blaine? You just stopped walking with me and I thought you were going to pass out. I had to sit you down."
What was wrong? He was wrong. Well, the Blaine Anderson Kurt met and knew was right, but the deep down Blaine was wrong and Blaine was letting him escape. He stared at Kurt's lips. It was easier to feel okay when Kurt was kissing him. It was easier to avoid talking, too. He swallowed tightly, knowing words wouldn't come easily.
"Blaine, please talk to me." Kurt was starting to sound frantic again, concern seeping through the calm front. He stroked his thumb over Blaine's cheek. "You're really freaking me out."
That was the opposite of his aim. He leaned forward, his mouth millimetres from Kurt's, feeling Kurt's breath on his lips, until Kurt laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "No, Blaine, stop. You can't just kiss me to not give me an answer. Because it's working. And I want to know what the hell is going on."
Sorrow filled Blaine up like a balloon, rising through his stomach and chest, resting in his throat. He was going to hurt Kurt too but he couldn't tell him. He couldn't. His hands trembled. His breath felt tight and shaky. He was really not able to put away his problems for two goddamn seconds to tell Kurt it was fine and go home. It was pathetic. Frantic panic rose with the cloud of despair that was settling around him like fog.
Kurt frowned, his eyes so sad and confused and worried. He lifted Blaine's hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to Blaine's palm. He kissed his fingers, keeping his scared, calculating eyes on him. "It's gonna' be okay." He breathed against Blaine's hand, "I promise."
In all the months and days and weeks and hours Blaine had been unable to even form words other than, "I'm too scared to live." and "The world looks different now." and he'd lived in a place of utter darkness, pushing against it almost only to tell his father the things he wanted to hear, nobody had ever really cared or even understood. Blaine's eyes swam, pooling with unwanted tears.
Kurt pulled him forward, one hand behind his back and the other still on his hand, and held him for a moment of silence. Blaine didn't move, still trying desperately to swallow his tears.
"Was it Santana? She doesn't mean it, Blaine. She doesn't hate you or anything." Kurt said quietly. There was a long moment of silence. Blaine's heart pounded in his chest, feeling too heavy to be real. He was starting to get that dreamy feeling, like it wasn't real. That waiting feeling, waiting to wake up.
Kurt was thoughtful. He pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. "Wait a minute - Blaine." Blaine felt his face pulled up by his chin. He tried to keep his gaze on Kurt's ocean eyes. "Blaine, honey, she didn't mean that. She didn't mean she was going to kill herself. Is that what you're upset about?"
He wanted to throw up. The perfect secrets perfectly kept to make the perfect Blaine. The only reason Blaine felt so attached to Perfect Blaine anymore was Kurt now, and once Kurt got a look at this Blaine, he would run for the hills. The sorrow and loss and hurt bubbled up in his throat.
"Blaine, it's okay." Kurt ducked his head and looked into Blaine's suddenly streaming eyes. He didn't even realize he was crying. "She didn't mean that."
"I did." He breathed, his voice sounding hoarse and strange to his ears, "I meant it."
Kurt's eyes squeezed shut and his mouth tensed like he was trying not to let something out. He knelt forward and leaned his forehead against Blaine's shoulder. "Please don't say that." And it sounded like he was almost crying too, which made Blaine cry harder.
Harried, blurry minutes passed and Kurt had his arm around Blaine's waist, coaxing him into the passenger side of the car, his fingers twined tightly around Blaine's. Blaine exhaled quietly, breath faltering for just a second. Kurt leaned into the car, knees resting on the edge. He bit his lip, eyes scanning over Blaine's face, and he squeezed his fingers tighter. Blaine licked his bottom lip. He felt exhausted. He had a wall to build back up. Kurt pushed forward and kissed him full on the mouth with such force that Blaine's head fell back onto the headrest. Kurt's hand climbed up Blaine's chest and twined into his hair, tilting his head. Blaine reached and pulled Kurt's waist, pulling him toward him. Kurt climbed over the seat, resting on Blaine's lap, one knee balanced on one side and the other sturdy on the other side. Blaine's head was spinning. One of them sighed, he wasn't sure if it was himself. He pushed forward into the kiss, head tilted to the side. His lips tingled like he wanted them to. Kurt hooked one finger through one of the belt loops in Blaine's jeans, the other hand resting at the base of his neck, fingers on the buttons of his school shirt. He was breathless. He could have Kurt, really have him, be pulled right down to the ground and then hold him like nothing mattered because it didn't, just them. Kurt pushed up, straddling his lap, pressing forcefully into the kiss. He had the buttons undone all the way down his chest. Blaine had both hands on the collar of Kurt's shirt. Since when was Kurt so brave?
He glanced down. His shirt rested over his heart still, falling open on the other side, covering the spot he felt sickened at. Good.
Not even Kurt could completely kill it all.
Suddenly, Blaine was in his room at Dalton, gaze on the ceiling, chest on the misery. His heart thumped and his vision swam. He didn't remember much from that night besides the rushing in his ears and the bang when the door opened and Wes's shivering face and then the fluorescent bathroom lights. Everything trembled in his vision. When he woke up it was on his bare back on the cold bathroom tiles, lights swimming above him. Wes had his warm hand on his arm, kneeling beside him.
"Damn it, Blaine!" he muttered, frustrated. His voice sounded strange through a trembling lip and frantic tears. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Wes found him shirtless on the floor, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes and an empty bottle of some kind of pills beside him. Pulled him into the bathroom and somehow he ended up puking it all up with Wes's coaxing. Fell back sweating, white lights dancing in front of his eyes and Wes yelling -
Kurt sighed, one hand on the back of his neck and the other resting on his chest. Blaine gasped and turned his head, heart racing. He felt Kurt's breath on his cheek. "Blaine?"
"I'm sorry." He gasped, his voice breaking, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just - just gimme' a minute." His breathing was a notch away from hyperventilating. He dropped his hands into his lap. Did he want to die then? He didn't remember anything before he took the pills. Just being cold and numb and confused and scared. He remembered he would count the thumping beats of his heart to make sure he was still alive. And then one day, he tried to change that. He didn't know what happened to lead up to it, what happened after. His head spun.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -" Kurt rambled breathlessly, fumbling with Blaine's buttons to redo them, "Not after that - that was - that was stupid of me -"
Blaine's chest rose and fell rapidly. He clung to Kurt's shirt with both hands. "It's not your fault." He breathed, still breathing like he'd run a marathon, "It's just me, just give me a second."
Kurt stopped with his shirt and slouched, breathing hard. His hands folded together on Blaine's stomach. They sat in silence, the only sound the sound of their heavy breathing. Kurt leaned forward, laying his head on Blaine's shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, raising one hand to rest on Blaine's chest. Blaine could feel his fluttering breath on his neck. It sent shivers down his spine. "I don't - I just - you scared me. I just - I wanted to make it real again. It's just - just stupid, I'm sorry."
Blaine turned his head, resting his cheek on the top of Kurt's head. He raised his hand to Kurt's cheek. "I don't know what comes over us sometimes." He said, trying to sound playful. He just sounded morose. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Kurt moved forward, pressing his lips to Blaine's neck. They sat like that for a moment. "I love you." whispered Kurt quietly, running his hand down Blaine's chest, "Please let that be one reason to live. I can't live without you."
Blaine's heart pounded in his chest, he was surprised Kurt couldn't hear it. He pushed Kurt's hair off his forehead with his fingers. He'd never considered any reasons to live and he didn't know how to start. "I do want to live. I never said I didn't."
"I'm not... I'm not stupid, Blaine." Kurt murmured, "I heard you. I just - don't say that. I love you. I love you and I'm asking you to love me too."
Blaine swallowed, chest constricting. He loved Kurt. More than he loved anyone else he'd ever known including himself. "I do love you."
He could feel Kurt's warm forehead on the crook between his neck and shoulder and it was starting to be all he could feel, Kurt's voice all he could hear. He couldn't lose focus, not now.
"Love me enough." said Kurt quietly, his voice trembling.
"I would die for you." Blaine said, and found it to be true.
Kurt pulled back and looked him in the eyes, scanning over his face worriedly. He licked his top lip and pressed his mouth onto Blaine's suddenly. Blaine's heartbeat tripled. He was briefly worried he was about to have a heart attack. He gripped Kurt's face with both hands, sighing. Kurt's warmth filled him and he felt like he was inflating.
Kurt pulled back, biting down on his bottom lip. He kept his eyes on Blaine's. "I don't want you to die for me." He whispered, stroking his thumb across Blaine's bottom lip, "I want you to want to live for me. Always."
Blaine could do little more than nod vigorously. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was watching blood pool on the pale skin of forearm -
No. Not now, not ever. He couldn't go back there, not again.
Kurt got off of him and pushed the car door open. He stepped outside, where it had begun to rain. He pulled out his cell phone.
"David Karofsky? Yeah, no, it's Kurt." said Kurt into the phone. Blaine was still trying to calm the rushing of his blood, too stunned still from before to be surprised. "I know. Look, where are you? You - because you need to come over to the school... No, it's Santana. I didn't see her leave and she said some things... I'm not going to repeat them, okay? No, we can't." He glanced down at Blaine who gazed back with wide eyes, throat visibly tight, and moved slightly away from the car, "She - she said some - look, I have to take Blaine home. He's not - he's not in good shape right now."
Blaine stopped listening then. He wished he could turn back into Perfect Warbler Blaine. His head hurt. Kurt knew. Kurt was scared. He'd failed.