Roses Dipped In Gold
Chapter Twelve
Monday Evening
This was bad. Very bad. So much worse than what he had expected.
Chancellor Anderson sat in his office, watching the news report and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong.
His disastrous visit to Dalton, of course, was being televised across the country, which would only fuel the voices of the Resistance. He had no idea it had gotten so bad. And for his son, his own flesh and blood to be lying to him about it? This had to be stopped now before it could pick up any more speed.
The Chancellor picked up his phone and called the Dean of Dalton. This was an urgent matter that could not wait another minute.
"Dean Misner. I need you to start writing a bylaw in the Dalton constitution stating the illegality of any activities or statements in agreement with the Resistance."
Tonight, he would begin with the Academy. Tomorrow, the entire nation.
Hours away, Burt Hummel watched the nightly news, smiling proudly to himself, recognizing the work of his son when he saw it.
Twelve Hours Earlier
It was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Blaine looked at the hurt on Kurt's face, saw the hand showing him to the door, listened to the disgusted tone of Kurt's voice, and he nearly tore himself in two trying to deny the side of him that wanted to go rushing back into Kurt's arms and apologize and tell him everything would be all right. But finally, remembering his reason for all of this, he forced himself to move his feet, one after the other, straight out the door and never looked back. He just hoped beyond hope that the damage was not irreparable. Now that he had Kurt in his life, he couldn't imagine it any other way.
Blaine peeked at his watch, cursing under his breath and hurrying off to the Dean's office. He was late to meet his father.
On one hand, Kurt was angry, hurt, betrayed, and offended. How could Blaine ask him to keep quiet, treating him like a child? How could their love and their relationship mean so little to Blaine that he would try to pretend like it didn't exist in front of his father? The first real challenge they faced, and Blaine couldn't stand up to it. Kurt had to laugh at the irony. Of all the literary pairs he loved so much, he never imagined he and his first love would be the epitome of star-crossed lovers.
Yet, on the other hand, Kurt felt a sense of relief. Wasn't it better for their doomed relationship to end now, at Blaine's discretion, before they could fall deeper, only to be torn apart by the constructs of society? Still, he had imagined having one more month of the happiness that Blaine brought him before the ruinous end of everything.
He kind of felt like crying himself back to sleep, but also like bursting into hysterical laughter all at the same time. What Kurt really needed was time to cool down and sort out his feelings. There was no time, however, for he had a mission to accomplish. As shitty as this day started, it could easily be one of the most important days of his life yet.
"You're late. Have you been crying? Good lord, pull yourself together, boy." Not much in the way of a greeting. Blaine wiped the offending tears from his eyes and stepped forward to give his father a hug. Instead, the Chancellor stuck out a hand to shake. Blaine was used to this; it shouldn't bother him anymore, but something about the way Kurt had been treating him - gently, kindly, compassionately - made this snub all the more frustrating and embarrassing.
The Dean, looking extremely awkward, spoke softly. "Good morning, Blaine. The Chancellor would like to shadow you today, to get a feel for what a day in the life of a Dalton student is like. After classes finish this afternoon, we will hold an assembly where he will speak to the student body. I know that it is against our usual protocol, but this is a special case...you are welcome to tell your classmates that the Chancellor is your father."
Blaine nodded curtly in understanding, squirming slightly at the awkwardness of just being in this situation.
"Now, I will leave you two with a little bit of alone time before classes begin. You haven't seen each other in months, I'm sure you have some catching up to do!" The Dean waved cheerily at the two of them and slipped out, leaving them alone.
"Are you finished with your blubbering?" Mr. Anderson asked.
Blaine took a deep breath. "Yes, father."
"Good. How are things going here at Dalton?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I trust you are networking every chance you get?"
"Yes, father." Blaine fought the urge to roll his eyes, mostly frustrated with his father, but somewhat frustrated with himself, as well. Building connections and preparing for the future was his responsibility, his duty to his country. Why was it irritating him so much now?
"Good. And have you met anyone special? Any boys we might be seeing more of in the next few months?"
Blaine shook his head, trying to control the emotion on his face at the mention of someone special. He had to hide Kurt from his father.
"Come on, you can't fool me, Blaine. You wear your heart on your sleeve. It's one of your biggest flaws." Blaine shuddered at the demeaning jest that was stated like a fact. He reminded himself that it was one of the qualities Kurt loved most about him. "I can see it all over your face. I'll ask again. Anyone special?"
"Okay, then. Yes. There is someone." That was all he would give up.
"Tell me about him," Mr. Anderson asked. Blaine couldn't fight the smile creeping across his face. This was one of the rare moments when his father was acting like Blaine had always wanted him to act. He loved these moments. He had always dreamed of sitting down, having a beer or watching a game, talking idly about the boy he was dating, or the new song he composed, or the latest book he read. All he had were these little glimpses of what things could be like if his father was different, though, and he capitalized on these moments.
"He's amazing. He's so unpredictable and intelligent and talented...he's made me really happy, father." He left off the part where they were not actually on speaking terms at the moment, and fought down the sick feeling that accompanied the memories of their fight.
Blaine thought he actually saw his father give him the tiniest of smiles.
"I trust he's High Class, from a reputable family?"
Just like that, he burst Blaine's happy little bubble by bringing politics and expectations into things.
"You know I don't have that information, father. We're not allowed to disclose our statuses to each other. But yes, I'm almost positive." He thought of their future together for the first time. He hoped Kurt would forgive him and they would have a chance at forever.
"What's his last name? Maybe I know his family."
"Uh-uh. No way. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. You'd have our marriage arranged by graduation!"
His father laughed, a sound so rare that Blaine was not completely used to hearing it. "That's true. I suppose I can leave you two to it."
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
"You know why I am here, don't you?" The Chancellor asked.
"Yes, sir."
"These people who call themselves the Resistance, they threaten everything we know. We need to put an end to them. They are the enemy. Things are just fine the way they are."
"Are they?"
Blaine wanted to reach out and grab the words and stuff them back in his mouth, but it was too late. He might have shit his pants with the look his father gave him. After a second, though, the stormy, offended, shocked look smoothed out into a nonchalant expression.
"What has gotten into you? You've never been the defiant one, Blaine, that was always your-" He choked on the word "brother," almost venturing into territory he refused to let himself into anymore.
Blaine took his father's moment of weakness as an opportunity to correct his mistake.
"I didn't mean anything by it, father. Just what you're always telling me, that there's always room for improvement."
The Chancellor look placated for the time being. He nodded. "Ah, yes." He looked at his watch. "We should get going soon. Wouldn't want you to be late again."
Did he have to slip an insult into every other sentence? Blaine started to stand up, eager to get to class and get this day moving. The sooner it began, the sooner it would be over with.
"Before we go, is there anything I should know? Anyone in particular that I should watch out for?"
Blaine's heart stopped momentarily. His father always knew when he was lying. He pulled his best innocent look and shrugged. "No, sir. Not that I know of."
He chanced a look at his father's face and was relieved, for he had seemed to believe him. Kurt was safe. For now.
The morning crawled along for Blaine. He was hypervigilant, looking out for and noticing every little thing. What for, he didn't know. It was possible he was hoping to catch anything that might have happened before his father did to put an end to it or hide it.
Two things would have caught his notice even if he had not been on the lookout.
The first was the sudden appearance of paper roses pinned to the lapels of many of his classmates' blazers. The roses exactly mimicked the roses he made for Kurt every day. He couldn't figure out why in the world people would be wearing them, but in English he saw Renna with one, and strangely, it put him at ease. He was fairly certain it was something he did not want to bring up now, or even know about at this point. Plausible deniability was key when it came to his father.
The second thing that Blaine noticed was the steady stream of students excusing themselves from class throughout the day. More than once, Blaine saw a black marker in the hand of the person leaving class. Again...deniability.
By the time Blaine arrived in Class Studies, he was worn out.
Kurt was already there, smiling strangely and sitting ramrod straight in his seat, his leg jiggling incessantly under the desk. Blaine considered taking a different seat than usual, since Kurt was so angry with him, but instead he settled in his normal spot, trying to catch Kurt's eye and send him a warning look. He knew Kurt thought that the Chancellor's visit would be a good time to make a statement, but Blaine knew better. If Kurt wanted to keep his freedom, he would have to keep his mouth shut.
Kurt never did look at him, though. He diligently ignored Blaine, even though Blaine was positive Kurt could tell he was looking at him.
And when Mr. Brower called the class to order, Kurt maintained his posture and the creepy smile plastered on his face.
Damn it, Blaine thought. He's up to something.
But in his immediate future, it wasn't Kurt that Blaine needed to worry about at all. Mr. Brower announced that in lieu of their regular lesson today, they would be brushing up on the Declaration of Independence.
"It has become clear to me that some among us may have forgotten the contents of this essential document, so I would like to take some time to refresh. Let's go around the room reading lines, and then we will split into groups and write summaries of the Bill of Rights amendments, stating how we benefit from each one. There is a particular passage from the Declaration that I would like to cover first. We have a special guest with us today. Chancellor Anderson, would you like to start us off with the second paragraph on page fifty-five?" Mr. Brower smiled politely, but Blaine could practically see the venom behind it. He noticed the speed of Kurt's jiggling knee accelerate too, excited at the prospect of what they were about to do. Thankfully, his father was often oblivious to subtle pragmatic cues like that, and seemed all too happy to start the class off.
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." The Chancellor's voice filled the room. "Blaine, would you please continue?"
"That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed," he paused, knowing exactly what he would do next. "Kurt," he passed the next phrase on to the boy sitting next to him. He knew it was a dangerous choice, but an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
Kurt cleared his throat, and to anyone less familiar than Blaine, nothing would have been amiss. But Blaine could see Kurt fighting the urge to get to his feet, the importance of what he was about to read in the presence of the head of the nation fulfilling every purpose he had ever lived for.
"That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness." There was palpable tension in the room after Kurt's passage. Blaine craned his neck to look at his father, heart thumping when he saw that the Chancellor had figured out what was going on. Blaine only hoped Mr. Brower wouldn't lose his job over this. But the Chancellor merely sat with his lips pressed together, hands gripping his pen, scribbled notes forgotten on the paper atop his lap. "Robert," Kurt urged the next reader.
They continued on through the next few sentences, until Mr. Brower stopped them and had them split into groups to discuss their assigned amendment.
Blaine finally caught a good glimpse of Kurt's face, and the thrill that was evident in his expression ignited something in Blaine too. But nothing he felt could compare to the weighty dread in the pit of his stomach.
That same dread grew and grew during the course of the day, its nasty little tendrils snaking up and around Blaine's heart, taking it prisoner, and reaching its maximum point at the assembly that afternoon.
The Chancellor had asked Blaine to accompany him by the podium while he addressed the school. He hoped to do some damage control. The situation was not completely out of hand, and perhaps he could reason with the student body by helping them remember how good things were now. If that didn't work, he had some scare tactics prepared as backup. Nobody would continue resisting if the lives of their loved ones were at stake. Harsh, perhaps, but necessary.
Blaine sat grudgingly next to his father, keeping his eyes down except for a few quick glances up at the crowd to keep tabs on Kurt, who was sitting in the dead center of the auditorium.
A camera crew from the national news was set up right in front of the front row, ready to broadcast the entire speech live across the country.
Blaine hated being singled out in front of his classmates like this, but in front of the cameras, he pulled together his best "public appearance" persona. Putting on that face lulled him into a strange sense of calm, which he welcomed.
"Good afternoon, students of Dalton Academy," the Chancellor began after a nod from the cameraperson. "Thank you all for allowing me to speak with you today."
Blaine half-tuned him out, having listened to his father speak more times in his life than he would have preferred. He knew the Chancellor was droning on about how talented and promising the students were, and how they would contribute greatly to society one day. That would transition seamlessly into a talk about tradition and why society was so successful, running on the principles that had been in place for hundreds of years.
Blaine nearly fell asleep under the hot lights, floating in the buzzy headspace of being completely detached from his mind, until he caught a flurry of movement out in the audience.
His eyes darted up to see Kurt standing atop his seat. He had removed his jacket, but his rose was now pinned to his shirt, which had large letters across it in black marker.
Equality.
Blaine couldn't breathe. This could not be happening. He realized the cameras and his father had not yet noticed the disturbance, so he tried to keep a calm facade, not revealing the true panic he felt, while trying to make casual eye contact with Kurt. He was silently begging him to please call it off, to stop drawing attention to himself.
But Kurt stood strong. And before Blaine could think about anything else, people around Kurt were removing their jackets and standing on their chairs too.
Freedom.
Justice.
Integration.
Their shirts spelled out what was most important to them. Each and every one of them had a red and gold paper rose pinned to their shirts.
Oh my god, Blaine thought, when the realization hit him.
It was then that his father noticed what was going on in the audience.
"Please be seated." An edge of panic crept in his voice.
But more students stood. Soon, over a hundred students were on their chairs, roses and words displayed prominently on their bodies.
"Sit down, I said!" The Chancellor was starting to lose control.
The cameras finally swiveled away from him to focus on the audience. Blaine was so thankful they hadn't turned earlier, because now Kurt just looked like one of many students involved, rather than the organizer.
While the Chancellor stumbled over attempts to get the students back under control, they all jumped down from their seats in near-perfect unison. Slowly and silently, they turned and walked out of the auditorium, ignoring the Chancellor's protests. The news crew followed along behind them, knowing this could be the story of their lives.
Blaine's father looked at him helplessly as the protesters filed out of the auditorium, but Blaine could only shrug. "Go on," he mouthed.
The Chancellor's face was pale as he turned back to the remaining crowd and continued on with his speech, pretending as if nothing was awry.
But Blaine knew. This was the beginning of the end.
After clearing out the auditorium, Blaine and his father had a horrible, hurried discussion in which Mr. Anderson remained calmer than Blaine could have ever expected, clearly indicating that something was very, very wrong, before taking off quickly to go back home and undoubtedly destroy everything Blaine knew Kurt valued, Blaine's father had called him out on his lie about there being nobody to look out for, nobody who was stirring up talk about the revolution. Blaine had brushed it off, telling his father he really had no clue, and that people deliberately hid things from him because they knew of his loyalty to the Chancellor. He was lying through his teeth now, but had miraculously become a professional at hiding his true feelings from his father. He had a feeling it had something to do with what was on the line here. Blaine could only thank god or the heavens or the fates, or whoever was responsible for this, that the Chancellor was still completely in the dark about Kurt's involvement in and instigation of the protest.
Blaine was sick of the separation from Kurt, and had a strong desire to be back with him, sharing in the onslaught of feelings Kurt was sure to be experiencing right now. Blaine headed back to his and Kurt's room with a bouquet of roses, a plan for an apology, and the whole night to make things up to him. To his surprise, though, the door was locked. Ever since Blaine had moved in (unofficially, of course, which meant he did not have his own key), Kurt had kept the door unlocked so Blaine could come and go as he pleased. Standing in front of the locked door was a blow for Blaine. It was Kurt's way of clearly stating that he had no intention of talking or making up.
Discarding the roses in the trash, Blaine considered his options. He could sleep downstairs in his and Kurt's hideaway, but he suspected that if Kurt wanted to go down there in the middle of the night, he would be none too pleased to find Blaine in there. Then there was Renna's room, but he decided against that option, because he didn't want to put Renna in the middle of their fight. That left only one option. It was not ideal, but it would have to work.
Visions of men bidding for his body plagued Kurt's sleep, yet when he woke, he found that reality was not much more soothing. True, he had pulled off a student walk-out that was the first of its kind, and surely making waves across the country by now. But for the last two months, he had imagined Blaine by his side when he did something this big. Now, he and Blaine were in what seemed like an irreconcilable argument, and they couldn't have been farther apart, emotionally. Not only that, but the protest would surely be a catalyst for new restrictions that Kurt wanted nothing to do with.
Kurt heaved a sigh, staring into the darkness of the night. He wanted to visit his room downstairs, sing a song to get things off his chest, sketch a little, but he assumed Blaine had gone down there to sleep after finding he was locked out of their room, and Kurt really wasn't ready to face him yet. So he attempted meditating for a bit, if only to get thoughts of Blaine out of his mind.
Down the hall, Blaine was not sleeping either. It was haunting to be here in his old room, the place where his roommate had threatened his safety. The place where there was no pair of strong, solid arms wrapped around him to help assuage his fears.
Calen, his old roommate hadn't returned yet, out doing god knows what. As Blaine attempted futilely to fall asleep, the sounds of raucous laughter floated down the hallway, getting closer with each passing second.
Blaine tensed, pretending to be asleep, as the door clicked open.
"Who the fuck-" Calen asked, turning the lights on and spotting Blaine. "Oh, it's you."
Fear.
A hand grabbed a handful of Blaine's shirt and yanked him out of bed. He was suddenly face-to-face with Calen. Two other boys standing nearby watched with bored smiles on their faces. Being this close, Blaine could smell the alcohol on their breath.
"It's Blaine fucking Anderson. The Chancellor's boy." The witnesses gasped, knowing Calen had just breached one of Dalton's most serious rules, even though everyone already knew who Blaine was. "You think you're all high and mighty, don't you?"
Terror.
Blaine shook his head.
"You think you're superior to everyone else just because of who your daddy is. Well here's what I think of that!" Calen grabbed a coffee mug off of his table and threw it into the wall with immense force, shattering the ceramic into tiny pieces.
Blaine was shaking, silent tears running down his face, fearful for what would happen next.
"Yeah!" The other two boys started picking up furniture and overturning it on the ground while
Panic.
Blaine curled in on himself the best he could. He couldn't see any way out. He crawled onto his bed, pushing his back as far into the wall as it could go. He knew how to defend himself. He was trained in boxing, for crying out loud. But the panic had a paralytic effect. Not to mention the fact that they outnumbered him three to one.
The trio raged on and on, seeming to forget Blaine was even there until...until they didn't.
Calen hurled a desk lamp at Blaine, shouting "heads up, Elite asshole!" as the lamp was already flying through the air.
Blaine barely had time to register what was happening before something very hard collided with his head.
Pain.
