Just a reminder that I don't own Glee or anything else in here that could belong to someone else.
Last time on "Stuck in Reverse":
Going through the house was like Blaine had never existed. When he'd left, he had put the spare bedroom back to rights, no trace of his presence. Kurt wandered around, Biscuit following his every step, lonely for his true master. Kurt went through the drawers and closet space Blaine had used, not knowing why he was looking, just knowing that he had to.
There, in the corner, an overly large jacket. It was Blaine's the one he'd arrived in. Kurt could guess why he hadn't wanted to take it, with the memories that must be attached to it. Pulling it out, he looked at it and realized it was high fashion. Feeling snoopy, he checked all the pockets and froze as he found something in the interior pocket. Realizing it was just a dry clean receipt, he went to throw it away. Stopping himself at the last moment, he figured out this was how he would find Blaine's abuser. All he had to do was call the dry cleaner. Then he would know. Then he could avenge Blaine. A plan began to form and he knew this was the way he would distract himself from missing Blaine.
. . . . . . . .
Unfolding the receipt, he stared at it, realizing this could be key to finding out who hurt Blaine. He smoothed it out and saw it was almost a year old. Three suits had been dry cleaned on this ticket and there was a scribbled signature at the bottom, so messy he couldn't even read what it said. But, he realized, he had something he could compare it to.
Running to the kitchen, he dug out the letter he'd found on Blaine so many months ago. Sitting at the table, he laid them out side by side and peered at the two examples of writing. It was hard because one was a signature, which are meant to be messy; and one was a note, which was written clearly. There, a matched 'a' and an 'i' with the same funky sideways point at the top. After noting a few more similarities, Kurt felt confident enough to confirm that it was written by the same person.
The receipt was from over a year ago, how was he going to find out who had paid for it? He didn't know if a dry cleaner kept records that long. Unless the person was still using the same laundromat. The plan for tomorrow then, was to go to there – the address was clear at the top of the receipt.
For now, he should be headed to bed. In an empty house. Instead, he turned on his iPod, flipping from song to song, trying to ease the hole that was inside him. Finally, he found a song, slipped the iPod in his pocket and began dancing, singing along with the edgy song.
I was looking for a breath of a life
For a little touch of heavenly light
But all the choirs in my head sang no oh oh oh
To get a dream of life again
A little vision of the start and the end
But all the choirs in my head sang, no oh oh oh
But I needed one more touch
Another taste of heavenly rush
And I believe, I believe it's so oh oh oh
And I needed one more touch
Another taste of divine rush
And I believe, I believe it's so oh oh oh
Whose side am I on? Whose side am I?
Whose side am I on? Whose side am I?
Kurt dipped, twirled, and seemed to fly throughout his house. He let his body work out the hurt, loss, and even anger that was coursing through him.
And the fever began to spread
From my heart down to my legs
But the room is so quiet, oh oh oh oh
And although I wasn't losing my mind
It was a chorus so sublime
But the room is so quiet, oh oh oh
I was looking for a breath of a life
A little touch of heavenly light
But all the choirs in my head sang, no oh oh oh
It's a harder way and it's come to claim her
And I always say, we should be together
And I can see below, 'cause there's something in here
And if you are gone, I will not belong here
And I started to hear it again
But this time it wasn't the end
And the room is so quiet, oh oh oh oh
And my heart is a hollow plain
For the devil to dance again
And the room is too quiet, oh oh oh oh
I was looking for the breath of a life
A little touch of a heavenly light
But all the choirs in my head sang, no oh oh oh
He stood there as the song ended, hands on his knees, breathing hard, and sweating. Somehow, though, he was feeling better. Music was therapy, there was no getting around it. As quickly as he could, before the endorphins wore off, he took a hasty shower and climbed into bed. He was able to fall asleep quickly, content with the plan he had set for the next day.
. . . . . . .
A text message woke Kurt up the next morning, tempting him to growl and the throw the wretched machine across the room. But he saw Blaine's name and opened the message as quickly as he could.
Warbler's first performance tonight at Civic Auditorium, would really like to see you there – B
Kurt wondered if it would be tacky to respond right away. Fuck it, he thought. This wasn't high school and he wasn't trying to play any games.
Wouldn't miss it for the world – K
Great! It's at seven. See you there. Hug Biscuit for me :] – B
Kurt hugged the fluffy dog close to him, stroking his muzzle.
"Your daddy says hello, Biscuit. Maybe he'll come home someday, huh? Until then, we'll get by just fine, won't we? You hungry?" he asked the brown eyes staring at him so seriously.
Biscuit gave a quiet woof and the two got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Kurt got coffee and a bagel, Biscuit got dog crunchies. Kurt flipped the TV on the news while he ate, listening to all the talk on the upcoming elections. One candidate was talking about equal rights and freedom for all people to be able to get married to whomever they wanted. He had a lot of good things to say and he kept Kurt's attention, whereas political talk usually made his eyes cross.
Getting up, he flicked the TV off. "We just might have to vote for that guy," he told Biscuit.
His phone rang and he saw it was Sebastian. He smiled. "Morning Seb," he said.
"You sound rather chipper," his friend responded.
"I have hope this morning. Hope that something might just turn around," he replied.
"Do share, Kurtie. I want to be hopeful too," Seb pouted.
"I think I found a way to find out who hurt Blaine," he said in a rush.
"What? Okay, I'm all up in your business now, Hummel. How did you figure it out?" Sebastian said, all business.
"I haven't exactly figured it out yet. I found the coat in the closet that Blaine wore the first night he showed up here. There was a dry cleaning receipt in the pocket. All it had was a signature, but I compared it to that letter that I found before and there were a few letters that looked identical. So my plan is to," he began.
"Go to the dry cleaners and see if they can pull the name of the customer. Of course. I'll be there in a half hour, we'll go together," Seb said forcefully.
"Excellent," Kurt said with a smile. Of course Sebastian would figure it out. His mind was sharp. He'd be good to have around during this whole thing.
. . . . . . .
"There it is," Kurt pointed at the tiny business in the middle of downtown. "Suds and Duds. Cute name. When I double checked the address on the internet, I found a laundromat named 'Get the Funk Out'," Kurt said.
Sebastian choked on his coffee and Kurt giggled. "Gotcha," Kurt laughed.
"You are so fucking lucky I didn't get a wet spot on my pants," Sebastian said, parking his Corvette in a parking garage and grabbing a napkin from the glove box. He wiped at a small spot on his shirt and cleaned up the spray on the steering wheel.
"At least you'd be in the right place," Kurt whispered with another giggle. "They'd probably think you couldn't last with your boyfriend and came in your pants, so they'd need to get the funk out for you!" he said, erupting with giggles.
Sebastian stared at his friend, seriously debating homicide when he saw the true delight on his fine porcelain features. Kurt deserved a moment of light-heartedness. Even if it was just this one time.
"I don't want to even imagine what those people have seen in order to name their business that," Sebastian finally said with a chuckle.
They got out and Seb paid for his parking spot and they walked toward the dry cleaners.
"Now, play it cool," Sebastian said. "We don't want them to suspect anything."
Kurt stopped and waited until his friend noticed. "What?" Seb asked.
"What exactly are they going to expect? This is 'Suds and Duds' not the Pentagon," Kurt said wryly.
"And what if they decide you look too shady and won't give you the information?" Seb challenged with a grin.
Kurt looked down at himself. He was wearing white and navy vertical striped skinny jeans, a white button up and a navy jacket. His feet were encased in his favorite white boots.
"Sebastian, I don't think I could be shady if I tried," he said, shaking his head. "Now you on the other hand," he left the sentence open.
"Yes, I know, I know. I had to turn down the role of James Bond. I was in my last year of college and they just didn't want to pay me what I was worth," Sebastian condescended, swinging his hands around.
Crossing the street, they approached the upscale dry cleaner slash laundromat.
"Follow my lead," Kurt said with a wink.
"I got your back, Willy Wonka," Seb replied, elbowing him in the side.
Kurt snorted. "Bastard."
The door opened with the tinkle of a bell and a pleasant, red haired woman smiled at them from behind the counter.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I be of service?" she asked.
Kurt leaned forward and red her name. "Well, Mardie, I had a cast party at my house last week and found a jacket that had been left behind. While there was no name stitched in it, which would have been very convenient," he added loftily as she nodded with a smile. "There was none to be found. I did find an old receipt from your fine establishment and I was hoping you might be able to find the name of the gentleman, so I can return his coat." Kurt handed the receipt to her and mentally crossed his fingers.
"A cast party? What for?" the woman asked eagerly. She was probably used to seeing small time celebrities. Kurt didn't even consider himself one of those, so he could only hope she'd at least seen the show he was in.
"The play I've been performing in. 'The Boy from Oz'. Have you heard of it?" Kurt asked.
The woman went pale, which was saying something as she was already pale due to her natural red hair. "I love that show!" she squealed. "Oh my god! Are you Kurt Hummel? I always have nose bleed seats cuz I can't afford anything more, but it sure looks like you."
"That's me. I'm so glad you've been able to see the show. So, about the receipt," Kurt began.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Hummel. There were different owners when this ticket was put through. All of those records are in boxes up in the storage room. It would take forever to find it," she said, truly apologetic.
"Even if the man was a current customer?" Kurt asked.
"No, because it was a different owner, all of their records were kept separate and we had to start all over again. Made a lot of folks mad, but we couldn't help it," she said.
"What if we, uh, made it worth your while?" Sebastian finally spoke, sliding a hundred dollar bill across the counter.
"Where do you think you are? In a movie? No way, this here is a musical," she announced with a wicked twinkle in her eye. "I will gladly go up there and find your receipt information if Mr. Hummel will sing for me." She clasped her hands together and looked at Kurt, hopping up and down a bit.
Kurt was glad the price was so small. "Um, I'd be glad to. Can we lock the door? I don't want to cause a commotion." The truth was, while he could perform in front of thousands, a one on one performance was the one thing that could give him stage fright.
Mardie squealed in delight, clapping her hands. "Of course! I'll even put the blinds down," she said, racing around the shop. She turned the 'open' sign over to 'closed' and flipped all the blinds down.
"So, Mardie, what would you like to hear?" Kurt asked nervously.
"Oh goodness, there's so many to choose from. How about 'Not the Boy Next Door'. I'll throw in free laundry services for the rest of your life if you do the dance with it," she offered, her eyes scoping out his lithe frame.
Kurt was about to turn her down when he thought about his wardrobe and all the dry cleaning he had to pay for.
"All my dry cleaning?" he clarified.
"Dry cleaning, ironing, mending, all of it. I'll give you a special card," she said quickly, knowing she'd hooked him in.
"Alright, you've got a deal," he said holding out his hand.
She blushed furiously then shook his hand. "I, uh, have the music on my iPod here, if you want some accompaniment," she said, pointing to the iHome behind her.
"That would be great," he said and moved a couple of clothing racks out of the way.
Sebastian was grinning like an idiot. "I would've brought popcorn if I'd realized we were going to have a show."
"Shut up Sebastian," Kurt warned. "This is for Blaine in the long, way long, run. And if you tell anyone other than Sam about this, I swear I'll reveal your secret," he said, giving Seb a look.
"What secret?" Seb said defensively.
"We'll discuss this later. Alright, Mardie, ready when you are," Kurt said, getting into position.
Comin' home used to feel so good
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood
I've seen the world at a faster pace
And I'm comin' now from a diff'rent place
Though I may look the same way to you
Underneath there is somebody new
As he sang and went through the movements – mostly shaking and thrusting his hips to Mardie's delight – he realized he really was a different person than he was before. Before Lima, before Broadway, before Blaine. He was new; braver, wanting to fight for the man he loved. Blaine, too, was someone new. And Kurt knew what he had to do. He had to make Blaine fall in love with him. The Kurt that wasn't a pretend Dom or a caretaker.
I am not the boy next door!
He finished the last note a half octave lower simply because he wasn't warmed up and didn't want to hurt his vocal cords. Both Mardie and Seb stood and applauded him, so he gave them a gallant bow, sweeping his arm down low.
Mardie rushed over and hugged him, thanking him profusely. "I'll leave the store closed and go look through the records right now. I don't care if it takes all day, that was the most amazing experience of my life," she said, shaking her head almost in disbelief.
She took the stairs two at a time and they heard boxes being moved and papers being sorted.
"Back to the topic at hand, Hummel. What secret are you claiming to have?" Sebastian asked, helping Kurt return the clothes racks to their proper places.
"Are you sure you want this out there in the open? With the words floating around out there, someone may hear it and put it in the Times for all to see," Kurt whispered, fluttering his fingers around.
Sebastian finally looked nervous. He tilted his chin up, unable to resist the challenge in Kurt's words.
"I don't believe you know anything," he insisted.
"Alright. You wanted it this way. Sebastian Smythe, you are the proud owner of a collection of…Beanie. Babies," Kurt said, standing close enough to tap Seb's lips with each word he said.
Seb's eyes widened until Kurt thought they might pop out. "You know nothing."
"For now. I know nothing for now. But there may come a time, Smythe, when you push me too far," Kurt said with a wink and a small kiss on Seb's nose.
"Bastard."
"I know," Kurt said.
. . . . . . .
"Found it!" Mardie called triumphantly.
Kurt and Sebastian looked at each other gratefully. It had been a long hour and a half and all they hoped was that the name led them to the right person.
"You know what's funny?" she hollered.
"What's that?" Kurt asked.
"The customer is a celebrity like you. Well, sort of. He's into politics. He was on the news this morning talking about marriage equality and all that. Did you see it?" Mardie asked, coming down the stairs.
"I did," Kurt whispered, in shock.
"Yeah, David Karofsky, the guy running to be in Congress," she said, handing them Karofsky's business card, attached to his purchase history.
Kurt looked at Sebastian, his eyes wide.
"Well, fuck," Seb muttered.
Precisely, Kurt thought.
. . . . . . . .
So, please review. I tried to be more light hearted in this chapter. I really enjoy writing humor and I just don't know if I'm any good at it.
Coming up: Blaine and the Warbler's perform!
The song was; 'Breath of Life' by Florence + the Machine. It's a bit edgy for what is 'normal' for Kurt, but I love the lyrics. And I know when I'm down, a good rock song makes me feel good.