First off, a shoutout to MusicalEscape, who apparently is the little girl with the ice cream from the previous chapter :D Secondly, a thank you for the kind reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Please review, it makes the soul happy :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Cirque de Joie

Chapter XXI.

There was complete and utter silence. A pale hand ran its long fingers down an ocean blue silk hanging from the ceiling of the big top, letting its owner's senses remember the feel of the soft fabric, how it felt wrapped around his arms and legs, how it flowed like water one minute and stretched taunt like a rope the next. The big top was empty, illuminated by a lone spotlight that Kurt had turned on when he sneaked inside. Everyone else was asleep in their tents, dreaming their troubles away and rejuvenating their energy. Kurt could only see what the spotlight chose to show. Everything else was bathed in an inky black that set Kurt on edge as his eyes looked around, making sure he was alone.

Excited eyes gazed up the length of the fabric. A driving urge wriggled under Kurt's skin to climb up that silk, even though his arm was not in the best condition to hold his weight just yet. He had had to suffer for weeks on the ground, unable to hoist himself high above the crowd where he belonged. Without thinking, Kurt kicked off his shoes and socks, bare feet touching the thick mat. A shiver ran down his spine as he gripped the silk tight with his right hand, skin tingling with anticipation. He'd climbed up a silk one-handed before when he first began his training was just testing to see what he could do, he could do it again. Kurt split the silk and wound his right foot around the blue fabric so that it held on like a harness to his foot. He used the toes of his left foot like fingers and, very monkey like, he slowly ascended the silk.

A small grunt escaped his lips as he climbed, left hand reflexively flying to grip the other side of the silk. Kurt sighed and continued up the silk, only really using his left arm to grip and not pull himself up. He managed to make it halfway up before feeling the strain in his shoulders, muscles quivering from not being used in weeks. Kurt slowly lowered himself down, wincing once his feet touched the ground.

"Ow," he said, rotating his shoulders. "I'll not be doing that again soon." Suddenly he heard a noise like the sound of footsteps softly to his left. Kurt turned his head and squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the figure hiding in the shadows.

"Blaine?" he asked, wondering if his boyfriend had followed him into the tent. A lithe figure stepped out of the shadows, far too feminine to be Blaine.

"Not hardly," Quinn said, stepping into the spotlight. "You know you're not supposed to be doing that." Kurt frowned and placed his hands on his hips.

"Why are you spying on me?" he asked, eyebrow arched. Quinn laughed and shook her head.

"Not spying," she said. "Just wondering why our newly recovered aerialist is sneaking off to the big top when everyone is supposed to be sleeping." Kurt sighed and removed his hands from his hips, brining one up to brush his bangs backwards.

"I just wanted to feel it again," he said. "These weeks have been absolute torture." Quinn smiled a mysterious smile and sauntered forward.

"Just make sure you stay safe for Blaine's sake," she said, walking behind Kurt to run her long fingers down the silk. Kurt turned around and crossed his arms.

"Thanks for the concern," he said, albeit sarcastically. Quinn laughed again and walked around the dangling silk, hand stroking it as she made her circle. Kurt felt uncomfortable. He didn't know Quinn well, except that Blaine spoke to her often and that she and Rachel hated each other for at least three days a week. Quinn looked over at Kurt with her piercing green eyes and walked away, returning to the direction she had come from. Kurt just looked after her with confusion, wondering what just happened.

Just when he thought he was finally alone, he felt a hand lightly touch the small of his back. With a squeal he jumped and whirled around to take on a very ninja-like stance, only to face a defensive Blaine holding his hands up in surrender.

"Woah there Jackie Chan," Blaine said, taking in Kurt's form with amused eyes. Kurt laughed nervously and reverted to a more casual stance.

"Don't do that," he said. "I just had a creepy encounter with Quinn. I don't need anyone else freaking me out." Blaine gave Kurt a questioning look and then shook his head, as if deciding against asking about it. Instead he wound his arms around Kurt waist and rested his forehead against Kurt's, looking into his eyes.

"Why are you in here?" he asked. Kurt placed his arms around Blaine's neck and stared into his hazel orbs.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You know you're not supposed to be doing this again just yet," Blaine said seriously. Kurt sighed and stepped back a little, creating space between them. Blaine watched Kurt, trying to read the emotions going through his eyes. Kurt seemed to give up and pull away all together, slipping away from Blaine's hands.

"My arm is fine," Kurt fibbed. "I'm just tired of waiting around. Why should I wait any longer to do what I'm here for if I'm perfectly fine?" Blaine caressed Kurt's cheek.

"We just want to make sure you won't hurt yourself again," he said. "For now, you just need to stay in the shadows with me." Kurt frowned, noting the small note of selfishness in Blaine's tone.

I don't want to be in the shadows. I want to be out there again and do what I'm meant to do!" Kurt threw his arms up and Blaine stared at him like he'd just been shot, slightly caught off guard by the sudden outburst.

"So helping out around here is just waiting?" Blaine asked, venom lacing its way through his words. "You don't want to be in the shadows like me? You don't want to be an outcast like me?"

"Blaine, that's not what I-"

"I know what you meant Kurt," Blaine said, crossing his arms. "Now you know exactly how I feel." Kurt looked stricken and his head swirled to find a proper emotion. He could feel the tension seize up his jaw and his head pound from increasing irritation.

"Fine then," he said, stepping closer to Blaine. "Yeah, I do feel like an outcast. It feels terrible to see all of your friends out there, having the time of their lives when you have to sit behind a light board or stand beneath a pulley. But how can you possibly know how I feel? You've never even been out there in the first place!"

"Of course I haven't!" Blaine exclaimed. "I don't know how it feels to have every eye on you, gazing in awe as you perform amazing feats. I don't know how it feels to be admired and looked at like something more than human!" They stared at each other in anger, sparks flying between them like metal against a blade.

"I know exactly how it feels to be human, Blaine," Kurt said viciously. "I certainly didn't feel invincible when I broke my arm."

"Well now it's healed, so you can go back to your tricks and your adoring fans," Blaine said, scathing. "Don't even worry about me. I'll just stay in the shadows where I belong."

"What is with this attitude Blaine?" Kurt yelled, face contorting in rage. "I'm sick and tired of it! Get over yourself and stop putting on this pathetic, emo persona every time anyone talks about performing!" Blaine clenched his fists and growled, unable to say anything. Instead he turned, not looking back at the furious Kurt as he exited the tent, boiling with rage.

Kurt yelled into the air and kicked at the ground, only slightly feeling the pain as toe hit the hard surface. After a few moments though, Kurt's rage was replaced with confusion, followed by sympathy and then fear. What had he done?

The next few days were dark ones. Everyone in the Cirque could feel the tension in the air. Nobody spoke to Kurt and Blaine. To even go near them seemed like suicide. They stayed as far away from each other as possible. When the time came for the big top performances at night, Kurt stayed cooped up in his tent alone, clutching Pavarotti in his hands as he tried to think up ways to fix this terrible problem. Blaine however immersed himself in his anger and performed all of his tasks with a vengeance, each one reminding him of their arguments with a painful gut wrench.

Mercedes was the first to talk to Blaine, only mildly afraid of his current emotions.

"He basically told me that I was an outcast!" Blaine exclaimed, pacing in his tent as he vented to Mercedes, who sat uncomfortably on his cot. "He knows how I feel about that! How dare he complain when he'll be back to the silks within the week?" Blaine stomped to his cot and plopped down, the cot bouncing violently with the force. Mercedes furrowed her brow.

"Have you talked to him since you guys fought?" she asked. Blaine looked at her as though she were insane; as if that were the stupidest question she could ask.

"Of course not!" he said, leaping back to his feet to continue his pacing. He clutched a pillow to his chest, the only thing keeping him from throwing things across the tent. "I know what his feelings are. Why should he be with me, the mere help."

"Now you know that's not how he feels," Mercedes said sternly. "Nobody feels that way about you, Blaine. I don't know where you get this idea that you're beneath us. If anything you're superior to us all. Without you this circus would fall apart." Blaine stopped in his tracks and looked ahead, as if having a great debate with himself.

"I know," he said dejectedly. "I just want to be like you guys so badly."

"Then do it," Mercedes said, standing up. "There's nothing that has stopped you all these years but yourself. If you'd push your damn pride out of the way for once, you could just do what you want to do. Take Kurt up on his offer, learn what he can do." Blaine turned and looked at Mercedes. She gave him a small smile and shrugged. "What's the worse than can happen?"

Meanwhile, Quinn tried to talk some sense into Kurt, which was proving to be very difficult indeed.

"I don't want to hear it, Quinn," he said, glaring at her. She tapped her foot impatiently from her position at the entrance of Kurt's tent, blocking it so that Kurt couldn't get in.

"But you've got to," she said. "Blaine's an absolute brute right now and you have to fix it." Kurt 'hmphed' and lightly shoved Quinn out the way with his shoulder, stalking into his tent. Quinn followed him with her hands on her hips, lips pursed. Kurt stood in the middle of the tent for an awkward moment before apparently deciding to make his cot. Quinn just watched in silence as the flustered boy neatly folded his blanket and smoothed his pillows.

"Are you finished?" she asked, eyebrow arching sharply. Kurt admired his work with a scowl and whirled around to face Quinn.

"I'm not talking to him," he said, heart racing. "He's the one with the attitude problem. He can come apologize to me." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But if you two don't get your act together, Will will be all over this, and that's never a good thing." She turned on her heel and exited the tent, leaving Kurt to brood. If he were a cartoon, steam would be gushing from his ears.

"Blaine has to apologize to me," Kurt muttered to himself, flopping onto the neatly made cot, causing it to wrinkle and be messy once more. "I'm not the wrong one here."

Mercedes left Blaine's tent with a sigh, not entirely sure she had helped in the slightest. She spied Quinn exiting Kurt's from across the way. She lengthened her stride to catch up to her.

"Any luck?" she asked once she had caught up with the blond girl. Quinn let out a sigh and shrugged.

"They're both very stubborn," she said. "I don't know how this is going to turn out." Mercedes frowned.

"Well, they better kiss and make up soon. They're both acting like complete idiots." Quinn chuckled. They both went their separate ways, praying that Kurt and Blaine could work this mess out, and soon.