Chapter 10 - Spotty Consciousness

A/N: Hiya guys. Remember in chapter 8 when I said I would be publishing nothing for maybe one or two months? Well that's what me disappearing was. I have returned and intend to continue ASAP with this fic and A Number on a Napkin. I'm sorry it was such a long wait. I don't intend for this to happen again unless something huge comes up. (offers plate of Nutella cookies) Forgive me?

I also realize the horrible cliffhanger from the previous chapter. If you want to go back and read it to refresh your minds on what's going on, I would recommend that. Once again I'm super sorry.

I own nothing.


Blaine was sure his father wouldn't see the blaze. His bedroom was on the opposite side of the alley, and once, he'd slept through gunfire. Blaine screamed in protest, but Blackbeard simply motioned for his men to gag him. He pulled at their grips and bit at their fingers; nothing could stop them. All he could do was watch as the fire began burning through the windows.


"Kurt! No!" Christian was speechless. He had lost Kurt to the fire, he was sure of it. No one could survive a jump into such heat.

Kurt gasped as the flames licked at his skin. He pushed the water from his body outwards to cover and protect himself. It only burned his flesh lightly as his own bodily fluids evaporated from the heat. He just needed to reach the pump before his body became too weak.

Fire surrounded every inch of him; it was there with every step he took. His vision blurred around the edges as the rusty pump came into view. Sweat pooled off of his body in sheets of protection. He reached out with a shaky hand to grab the faucet, and collapsed. Fire tore at his skin, ripping layer after layer of flesh off, and he couldn't help but scream at the torturous sensation. He could still make it if he could only... reach...


Screams rang in Blaine's ears… the screams of horses and the screams of a certain beautiful merman. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. Blackbeard laughed at his display, motioning for his men to release him. Blaine crumbled to the floor, sobbing his pain into his dirty hands. Kurt was dead. His agonizing screams still rang sharply in Blaine's ears, and the horrifying image of the flames eating Kurt alive filled his vision. He couldn't stop the sobs he choked on.

He didn't remember ripping the gag off, he didn't remember anything in those long agonizing five minutes other than the flames and screaming.
Kurt's screaming.


The horses pounded against the stall doors, desperate to free themselves from the hellfire. The locks held tight in place and no matter how hard Christian tried, he couldn't get a firm grip on the scalding handle. He would be forced to watch Marina and her mother die, just like his mother and his sister.
The Spaniard jumped the stall door, edging himself towards the panicking colt. Once within her reach, he grabbed her up in his arms, and petted her small nose until she had calmed. He wasn't going to let her die in a frenzy with all the other horses. He didn't think burning to death could be peaceful in any way, but he was going to make it as peaceful as possible for little Marina.


A droplet of water fell onto his outstretched hand.

That was all he needed.

The pump exploded on contact, swirling around him, instantly cooling his burns. Pain seared through him as he began pulling more and more water out of the Earth. The fire died immediately, leaving behind nothing but warm steam. Power coursed through his veins. He formed the clear liquid into balls, throwing them around the stables, enveloping the remaining spots of fire. He smiled to himself as the room became less and less humid, each water bomb exploding into puffs of steam. In the end, only the smell of burnt hay filled the room. The horses continued in their panicked state, neighing and jumping in their stalls. Kurt looked around for the Spaniard.

"Christian! Christian! Chris—" Kurt's vision began to fade again, but this time he couldn't stop the whole world from turning black.


Blaine watched in amazement as water spouted from the windows, spraying into the streets. All of Blackbeard's men retreated in fear. Only the captain stood there, shock and disbelief seeming to keep him anchored to that spot.

The doors parted slightly, letting a warm breeze flow into the streets. Then the left door flew open—the result of a kick. Blaine looked up from the watery road, choking on a gasp. Christian ran out of the stables, carrying an unconscious Kurt. Burns lined his arms and neck and stretched across his cheeks. The ex-pirate scrambled to his feet, tripping over air as he tried to reach the wounded merman.

By the time he got to the two, Blackbeard had retreated into town, leaving nothing behind but his alcoholic stench. Blaine let out a stifled cry as he traced a finger over the tender flesh of Kurt's face. Even with the marred skin, Kurt still managed to look breath-taking. His lips were slightly parted and his chest moved with shallow breaths. Blaine slid his arms underneath the burnt boy's abdomen and cradled him protectively towards his chest.

"He jumped into the fire." Christian stare doff at nothing as Blaine looked up at him slowly, vision blurred by tears.

"W-what?"

The Spaniard met the ex-pirate's shiny eyes. He inhaled. "He jumped into the fire and then water was everywhere. When the steam had cleared, I saw him just lying there on the floor taking in shallow breaths. I tried to pick him up as carefully as I could manage, but he had burns on every part of his body. It seemed almost impossible to carry him in any comfortable way.

"But he was dying, so I just picked up his broken body and ran towards the door. I'm surprised I didn't trip over some of the ceiling that fell in." A sigh escaped his sooty lips and a lazy hand ran through his sweat-slicked hair. "I'm sorry about your door."

Blaine slid a hand underneath the weak legs of Kurt before pulling him up towards his body. His legs wobbled as the young man began to stand carrying the extra body. He sighed as another tear ran down his nose and fell onto Kurt's dirty cheek. "It's fine, Christian. The barn can be fixed. Let's get Kurt inside before his burns get infected."

Just as the three boys opened the door to the Anderson abode, villagers began to gather around the crumbling black stables, horses neighed fiercely.


"Blaine? Is that you?"

Burt Anderson looked up from his report as the front door pounded into the joining wall. His smile quickly disappeared as his son and Christian panted in the threshold with an unconscious boy, covered in soot, in their tow. His body shot from the lounge, heart pounding dangerously in his chest as he rushed to help his son.

"Blaine. Blaine, who is this? What happened?"

Blaine opened his mouth and Burt could catch a barely audible "Kurt" escape his son's lips before he collapsed onto the wood floor. It was then that he caught a glance at the blackened stable across the street. "What—Christian, what?"

The Spaniard was making strange faces as he struggled to keep Kurt standing by himself and for a moment, Burt was worried he would collapse as well. He helped them both down to a comfortable position on the floor before rushing down to the kitchen.

Emma and Shelby were laughing and stirring an aromatic cauldron of soup. Shelby dried her tan hands on her blue apron and turned around to see her employer panting and clutching the stairway banister so tightly that his knuckled were white.

"Mr. Anderson!"

Burt began sliding to the floor, heart pounding in his ears faster than normal. A metal spoon fell to the ground as Emma shrieked and rushed to his side where Shelby was already trying to lie him down properly.

"Emma! Go get a strip of cloth and soak it in some cool water! Quickly!"

The paler than usual kitchen aid rushed about the hot room pulling water from the ice chest with shaking hands and soaking a towel in it. She returned the dripping material to her friend and paced nervously as Shelby draped it across his neck.

"Emma. Get Samuel, April, and Holly. Tell Samuel to retrieve Doctor Scott and tell April and Holly to send word to Finn and Levi: Their father is sick."

The red-head rushed from the room, not even bothering to remove her apron or wash off her hands. She ran to the other servants' quarters, conveying the news before rushing into town with the other women. None of them were aware of the crowd gathered around the stables behind them, nor the three boys unconscious in the foyer.


"William? Isn't that crowd gathered around the Anderson's stables?"

Will Schuester looked up from his book at Johnathan Puckerman and his son, Noah, pointing towards a large group of people. The faint smell of burning wood filled his nostrils. He leapt from his seat next to the Puckermans, running quickly from the dairy cart to assess the scene he didn't want to see.
The tall stables were blackened, and crumbling in the corners. The roof was practically gone. Twelve horses and a colt were tied to various posts surrounding the stables, grazing about various patches of surrounding grass. Questions streamed through his brain and he had half a mind to ask around for answers, but a bigger question popped into the forefront of his mind: Where was Burt?

"Noah, pull into the covering quickly. We should see where William went."

Will ran through the long, extremely narrow, cobblestone street and barreled through the open door to the Andersons' stately home. Two steps in, he tripped over long and soft. His hands instinctively stretched out to brace himself only to fall into something else... or someone. He rolled over to see Blaine, Christian, and who he thought was a blackened and burned Kurt.

"Mr. Will?"

The curly-haired man looked up to see Noah staring worriedly down at him sprawled across the floor with the other boys.

"Noah, tell your father to go get Doctor Sco—"

"Will?"

Noah and Will turned to find a frazzled Emma Schuester staring at them from down the hall. "Emma."

"What happened to them?" She rushed to her husband's side, cupping Blaine's face in her hand.

"They must've been in the stables when they caught fire."

"The stables caught fire?"

"Of course they did. Isn't it obvious?" The three conscious people looked up to another voice in the doorway. Johnathan was pushing past his son and kneeling down with the other two. "Who are these two boys with Blaine?"

"This is Kurt and Christian. They came with Blaine when he came back." Emma pushed a strand of black hair from Christian's forehead.

"Blaine came back?" Noah closed the door and joined the others on the floor.

"Yes, he came back about a month ago." Will began to gather Kurt in his arms. "Noah, Johnathan, grab Christian and Blaine. We need to get them to Doctor Scott."

"Oh! He's already here. Burt collapsed when he came down to the kitchen. Now that I think about it, he was probably coming down to tell us about the boys."

Once all the boys were in someone's arms, the three men followed Emma down to the kitchen where nearly every form of help was pacing about. Tina was the first to see the others coming down the stairs and promptly fainted at the sight. Mike rushed to her side to stop her from falling. That's when everyone else saw them... and hell broke loose.


A/N: Don't hate me. (cringes in fear)

(Just hit her if it will make you feel better.)

Once again… super sorry.

Feed Klaine brill reviews. xD