DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor am I associated with it or RIB. I also am not affiliated with Neon Trees.
Break Me
By: xSlythStratasfaction
Warning: Season 2 spoilers! This fic is AU with canon tendencies (does that make any sense? Haha!) VERY ANGSTY. Also, some foul language.
There really wasn't a way out of dealing with his broken heart.
Kurt tried to ignore it for a while, tried to push away that achy feeling that he got in his chest whenever it crept up and tried to overtake him, but it never worked out. Instead, he found himself locked up in his room, stereo blaring sad break-up songs as he sketched out design after design of clothing inspired by his bleeding heart – something good had to come out of this, right? His dad knocked on his door and sadly asked him what was wrong every time the sad music started playing and each time, Kurt just said he wasn't feeling well, and that was so true, but he didn't explain why he was feeling that way or what or who caused it. He was just dealing and that's how it was gonna be.
A few days after their final meltdown, Kurt cut all ties between him and Blaine. It started off with him deleting Blaine's number from his phone, then deleting Blaine as a friend on Facebook and unfollowing him on Twitter. He ignored the boy in the halls before class, during class, during Warbler practice, and at lunch. He talked with some of the other Warblers, joined in discussions with guys he never dreamt of ever talking to, and to be honest, it felt good.
But it was also very lonely.
Because no one understood him like Blaine did. It was awful to think about when he really reflected on it. Blaine Anderson knew Kurt like the back of his hand. He knew what Kurt liked, what he didn't like, which days were bad days and which were good. He knew that Kurt liked the hummus and veggie wrap more than anything and would usually get that for him because Kurt never got to the dining hall on time to grab his own. He knew the little things and that meant something to Kurt.
But it obviously didn't mean jack shit to Blaine.
So, time went by and Kurt dealt.
Of course, as soon as things started to feel like they were getting a little bit better, everything went to shit.
And its catalyst this time was none other than Pavarotti, Kurt's pet canary.
Kurt had been in the midst of his morning spa routine when Pavarotti unexpectedly dropped dead. He was in the midst of whistling when the little birdie fell off of his perch and the sight of it all sent Kurt into a bit of shock. He dropped his nail file and rushed across the room, dropping to his knees in front of Pav's cage. His throat knotted up in terror as he stared at the motionless bird lying at the bottom of the cage.
Pavarotti was dead. His canary friend was gone.
Blaine walked through the halls, eyes downcast as he stared at his phone. His Facebook newsfeed was awfully boring now that Kurt had removed him as a friend and blocked him. The only other people he knew were the Warblers and a few random classmates, but none of them made statuses like Kurt Hummel did. No one else would leave him comments on his wall about the reruns of Tabatha's Salon Takeover or about those little brats on Supernanny. Instead, his wall was bare minus a few comments about his performances from other Warblers or from some of the Crawford girls. It was pretty lame.
And it was all his fault.
Blaine knew he made a huge mistake in telling Kurt how he led him on. Honestly, he had hoped that Kurt would've understood and perhaps forgiven him for being so foolish and dumb. But that was wishful thinking and it didn't work out on his part. Instead, Kurt just shut him out and the next thing Blaine knew, he was defriended, unfollowed, blocked, and ignored… all because of his own stupidity.
Funny thing was: now Blaine didn't know how to function without Kurt.
He found himself hitting the lunch lines early, grabbing up one of those awful hummus/veggie wraps that Kurt loved so much, in order to later on swap the boy for the turkey wrap – but instead, during that first day of no communication, Kurt came walking by with the turkey wrap and didn't swap him at all, leaving Blaine eating that nasty hummus. Then there were a few times when he found himself saving a seat for Kurt during Warbler practice, only to watch Kurt slip in and sit next to Luka or one of the other guys. It was like Blaine's entire being that school year thus far had functioned around Kurt and now he didn't know what to do with himself.
He just missed Kurt. He missed him a lot. A little too much if he thought about it. So stop thinking about it then, dummy.
Sighing, he pocketed his phone and slipped into the rehearsal hall, eyes scanning the room immediately for Kurt. The other boy hadn't arrived yet, so Blaine took a seat on the couch, saving just enough room for Kurt to sit down just in case the other boy needed a seat. However, once the final bells chimed and there was no sign of Kurt whatsoever, Blaine found himself with a sour stomach. He glanced around the room and found the other Warblers doing the same – looking for Kurt.
"Has anyone seen Mr. Hummel?" Wes asked, watching the doors to see if Kurt was going to rush in late. The rest of the Warblers shook their heads. Jeff slipped his phone out of his pocket and turned it on.
"Earlier he posted this weird status on Facebook. I think something happened, but I don't know what."
Blaine evacuated his seat, stepping behind Jeff to peer over his shoulder, "What does it say?"
"Should I really show this to you? I don't know what happened between you and Kurt, but I saw that he removed you from every single social networking site he has and that's just weird, if you ask me."
"He's mad at me. Now can I see his status?"
"Blaine, I don't know-"
Blaine snatched the phone out of Jeff's hands, eyes widening as he read the status posted on Kurt's wall.
The caged bird sings no more.
"What does this mean?"
"Like I said, I have no idea! It just popped up this morning."
"Well whatever it is, he definitely doesn't explain why he's not here," Wes muttered from his position at the head of the room. "We'll just have to count him absent. If he misses another practice, he will not be performing with us at Regionals."
The rest of the group nodded and listened on as the council began throwing out suggestions and plans for the next competition performance. Blaine half-listened, half-concentrated on what Kurt's Facebook status could be, only jumping back into the group discussion when one of the other guys leaned across the way and punched him in the shoulder, "Pay attention, Blaine, before the council says-"
"Do you have something to share with us, guys?" Wes asked, eyebrow raised. Blaine frowned and let his mind race to something he could just toss out there so that the council wouldn't eat his ass for not paying attention – immediately, their attire came to mind.
"Uh… change our clothes?"
The fact that their lead soloist wanted them to change their timeless uniform caused the room to go into a ruckus; Wes slammed the gavel down on the table as he glared directly at Blaine.
Do some damage control, Blaine. Damage control!
"Warblers, Warblers! I am merely suggesting that instead of wearing blue ties with red piping, we wear jackets with red ties and blue piping for the competition!"
That suggestion didn't help either. The room exploded with opinions, Trent voicing his rather loudly, right up until the main doors swung open and in stepped Kurt, dressed to the nines in an all-black ensemble.
Oh my God. He looks so- Blaine, stop. Ask him what's going on.
"Kurt, what's wrong?"
"It's Pavarotti." Kurt said softly, eyes slightly wet. "Pavarotti is dead. I suspect a stroke."
Blaine couldn't stop his mouth from falling open. So, that's what the status was all about. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."
Kurt started to speak again, saying things about how Pav was his friend and how he was going to miss him, but the entire time he spoke, Blaine was in a completely different world – a world where Kurt was looking more and more beautiful to him.
And then Kurt started to sing.
He just started singing out of nowhere; Blaine hadn't been paying attention at all. He hadn't seen Kurt hand off a cassette tape to Jermaine, nor had he noticed everyone fidget in their seats as if they were going to perform. Instead, he was snapped back to reality when Kurt's smooth, angelic voice slipped from his throat.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night...
As he sang, he moved, slowly walking around the room with his hands crossed in front of his stomach. Tears trickled down his pale cheeks and from where Blaine was sitting in the room, it looked like Kurt's face was literally gleaming. He swallowed heavily and stared on, watching as his former best friend vocalized his sorrows over his fallen friend. It was such an odd moment: Kurt was singing about a dead bird and there Blaine was, heart beating erratically as he kept his eyes on him.
Oh my god, what is this?
By the end of the song, Kurt was spent, tears still clinging to his cheeks and eyes red from crying. He muttered a quiet thank you to the group for letting him sing and once he was completely silent, a few of the guys got up from their seats on the couch and gave him small pats on the back in sympathy. Back at the councilmen's table, Wes called the meeting to an end in respect for Pavarotti, ushering the guys out of the rehearsal hall so he could talk to Kurt in private.
Once Blaine got out in the hall, he loosened up his tie and leaned back against the wall; his concentration mainly focused on the closed doors before him. He waited for several minutes for Kurt to reappear and soon, Kurt came stepping out of the choir room, dabbing at his wet eyes with his wrist. He looked up and gasped softly, "Blaine."
"Kurt, I… I'm so sorry."
"You said that when I first came in, but thank you."
"No, Kurt, I- I'm really, really sorry… about Pavarotti and... about everything."
Kurt sucked his lower lip between his teeth and sniffled, crossing his arms over his chest, "Blaine, please-"
"I just wanted to let you know that I was sorry… and that I'm here for you if you need to talk about anything. Really, I am. Just call me or-"
"Blaine, I can't-"
Blaine sighed. He walked closer to Kurt and frowned when the boy flinched and stepped back. "Kurt-"
"I'm sorry, Blaine, but I can't do this right now. I have to go." He tried to step around Blaine, but was only stopped by his friend's strong arms curling around his waist and turning him around. He was tugged backwards, pulled tight against a broad, firm chest and as soon as his body was pressed flush against Blaine's, he burst into tears, curling his fingers in Blaine's blazer.
"Shh, shh. It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."
Kurt just stayed there, fingers clutching Blaine's uniform like it was keeping him afloat – and it some ways, it was. Just being there next to Blaine, feeling him pressed against him made Kurt feel a lot more comfortable than he did earlier that day when he was dealing with Pavarotti's death alone.
Now if only this just wasn't a one time, comforting thing…
Oh fuck.
Kurt leapt back, body shivering as he stared across the hall at his friend. Blaine looked shocked, eyebrows raised so high that they could have blended in with his hairline, "Kurt, what-"
"What are we doing? I can't- this isn't- I have to go!" He turned and ran as fast as he could down the hall, ignoring every single scream of his name; he ran and ran and ran until he got to his car, hopping inside and locking the doors behind him. He started up the Navigator in seconds, ignoring the blue and gray figure he saw running at him in his peripheral vision.
"Kurt! Stop! Kurt!" Blaine yelled as he ran towards the car, arms waving wildly. "Kurt please!"
But the boy peeled out of the parking lot, not once looking back, not once noticing Blaine slumping down on the school steps, hands grabbing at his hair as he realized how much he had truly fucked everything up.
A/N: There's more, of course, to Original Song than just this. The rest will be in the next chapter. What do you guys think (or hope) will happen? Lemme know!
