Author's Note: Two chapters were posted today, and though the first one was short, if you haven't read 24, you will be lost my friend. Please make sure you have read it first before you proceed.
What the hell just happened? Santana thought, as she heard laughing and hurried footsteps retreating from the lot. Dammit! She never saw the perpetrators' faces.
She stood there in the abandoned parking garage clutching her cell phone. Even though she had used the camera several times to record some of the things she had witnessed, she had yet to call anybody since Sue had given it to her. Who could she call? No one else was supposed to have one, but they needed help. Blaine was screaming uncontrollably, covered in red. What the hell was she supposed to do? They weren't supposed to be there in the first place.
"Somebody, help us! He's been attacked!" Santana yelled. She knew there were security guards on the premises at all times. She called out for several minutes though, and nobody ever came. They obviously weren't going to. Shye needed to shift focus here and make sure that Blaine was ok.
He was on the ground, shaking violently, though she wasn't sure if it was from pain or absolute fear. She reached out her hand and tried to put it on his shoulder only to have it slapped away.
"Don't touch me!" Blaine screamed frantically, kicking his legs furiously. "Leave us alone!"
"Blaine," she said soothingly. "It's me, Santana. I'm your friend. I want to help you."
"Don't help me. He's dying!" Blaine cried desperately.
Santana blinked. Who was he referring to? She had never seen him like this. The always dapper gentleman was an uncontrollable mess. She wasn't sure if he was experiencing a panic attack or if he had reverted back to a tragic situation, but she knew that Blaine didn't even know where he was right now.
"Blaine," she whispered soothingly. Please! Calm down. It's just us in the garage. Whoever it was, they are gone. I need you to let me look at you!"
He blinked. He slowly raised himself up to a sitting position, his arms clutched around his legs, rocking back and forth. Now he was murmuring to himself, but at least he wasn't screaming anymore. She had to figure out where he was hurt. The bright red substance was on his face and his white cardigan. She used the flashlight on the phone to try to examine him. Her hand stuck to the liquid on his shirt. It was very sticky. And cold.
Santana swiped her finger across the red substance and popped it into her mouth. Now, she was annoyed. He had her terrified over nothing. "Oh my freakin' god Blaine. Quit being such a diva! It's not blood. It's a cherry slushie!" she said sternly. "You aren't dying, although I may go all Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass if you don't get yourself together and get off the freakin' ground 'cuz I ain't carrying your short little hobbit self into the studio.
Blaine let go of his legs, allowing her to see his face. He was still sobbing quietly, quivering, but he stuck out his hand.
Seeing him so frightened made the feistiness fade from the Latina, as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and helped him to his feet. "Blaine, it's ok. You're ok," she comforted. "Let's get you into the studio. We need to find help." She put an arm around his shaking body, and they walked slowly to the studio.
"What the hell happened?" Beiste demanded as she ran to the shaking boy.
"He was slushied," came the reply from the Latina girl. "I don't think he's injured, but he's having some kind of panic attack. I tried to calm him down, but I ain't the soothin' kind of person, I guess.
"Where were you two? You were supposed to be in group rehearsal for next week's show. I need to know so that I can try to figure out who did this.
"We were in the studio parking garage," Santana answered.
"Sneakin' out for a quickie?"
"We're both gay," Santana huffed. "We were just getting some fresh air."
Beiste stood with her hands on her hips. "What? Do you think I was born yesterday? Who gets fresh air in a dark parking garage?"
"Look, interrogate me later, but he's not ok."
Shannon's face softened. "Ok. Let's get to the group rehearsal. Mrs. Pillsbury's in there. She'll know what to do."
As soon as Beiste walked in with her arm around Blaine's shoulder, Kurt lept up and ran down the steps. "Blaine, are you ok?" Are you hurt?" The fair complected boy gently touched Blaine's sticky face and shoulders, examining him to make sure that he was ok.
"Get a room!" Santana scoffed at Kurt. "It's not blood. It's a freakin' cherry slushie. Your boy toy is gonna live."
Blaine embraced Kurt tightly, his shallow gasps turning to calmer, steadier breaths. "That was horrible, Kurt. You had to endure that every day?"
"It's awful, isn't it?" Kurt asked gently, running a finger down Blaine's face. "And the cherry dye is the worst. You'll never get it out of that white knit cardigan." Kurt sighed, leading Blaine to the stage area with the rest of the contestants. Santana followed close behind. "Animals. It was Karofsky and Azimio, wasn't it?" He asked, turning his head to look at Santana.
"I don't know. I never saw their faces. At least I think it was two men judging by the voice I heard, but you can't really go by a voice in this crowd," she said joking at Kurt and Beiste.
"Watch it, Satan, or you'll wind up with a perm!" Kurt warned sassily.
"Alright, you two. Cut it out," Will ordered. "So Santana, you think it could've been two guys that ambushed you? I'm not really sure I know who Azimo and Karofsky are. Should I?"
"Karofsky and Azimo are stagehands, but I went to high school with them. They used to bully me. They threw me in dumpsters, slammed me into lockers, called me names, and threw slushies in my face on a daily basis," Kurt admitted.
"So that was the reason you said you always had a spare outfit with you" Sam piped in. "I wondered what you meant by that when you sent me to go get those extra pants the other day because you-"
"Sam, yes," Kurt said, cutting off the rambling model before he spilled the beans to Blaine about what had happened in the bathroom that night. "That's why. I used to spend hours creating these perfect, one-of-a-kind fabulous outfits, and apparently those two Neanderthals figured out that they could torture me they by destroying them. The slushie method was the worst. I even ran for Senior class president with the main campaign promise that we would eliminate that slushie machine. I was defeated by a landslide. Who knew the cheerleaders would rally against me? I guess they never had to endure the pain of being bitch slapped by an iceberg."
"I have. Well, sort of." Rachel admitted. "But Kurt knows that. That was how we bonded in the first place, in the lunch line at school. He cringed at the slushie in my hand, and I winced at the hard-boiled egg on his plate.
"An egg," Quinn puzzled. "What does an egg have to do with a slushie?"
"It's pretty sticky when it's thrown in your face," Rachel remarked.
"Oh my gosh," Mercedes remarked. "You were egged! I mean, not that I could really blame them if you were anything like what you are now." She paused. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me."
"Aren't you a vegan?" asked Artie. "Wow, someone must have really hated you!"
"I don't like eggs," Brittany added. "I just don't understand the difference between an egg with a baby chicken inside of it and an egg with an egg in it."
"It's the same thing," Tina remarked.
Emma raised her hand to get everyone's attention. "Blaine, are you ok? Do you need to talk?"
"Um, I'm ok. It was just unexpected. It reminded me of the attac-" He cut himself off. The contestants didn't know about that. No one in the room would know, not even Kurt. Even though they had brought up the bullying, Blaine never went into details about what happened that made him transfer schools. And he wasn't sure that he was ready to divulge that information tonight either.
Kurt placed a hand on top of Blaine's. "The reason you transferred to Dalton. You were attacked?" he asked quietly.
Blaine nodded. "At a Sadie Hawkin's dance at the beginning of my freshman year. I went with a friend, Thomas. He was the only other gay guy at school. Afterwards, while we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys, um..."
"Blaine, you don't have to talk about this right now," Emma calmly told him. "We can talk privately if you'd like."
"And you probably want to change out of those clothes," Shelby suggested.
"I'll take care of it," Kurt offered. "I've done it before, and if we treat that stain now, we might be able to get it out. I just have to work my magic."
"I bet Blaine wouldn't mind one bit if you worked your magic, Kurt," Santana smirked. "Wanky!"
"And there is that second innuendo," Blaine smiled for the first time since he was slushied. "Are you sure you and Sebastian aren't related.
"C'mon, Blaine," Kurt coaxed, gently leading Blaine by his hand towards the stage exit. "I'll give you a hand."
"Well, look at that, Blaine. We didn't need Sebastian. You got your innuendos and there's your proposition," Santana laughed.
"Shut up, Santana," Blaine muttered, following him out the door. "Kurt, I'm coming. Don't pull so hard."
At that, Santana cackled. "Seriously, Mr. Schu. do you think those two should be headed off into a bathroom stall together? Get it? Head? Oh, come on! That was funny?"
"And highly inappropriate," Artie commented, but Finn snickered, which caused Jake to laugh, causing the whole group to erupt into laughter.
"Alright, let's give them a few minutes to get Blaine cleaned up," Mr. Schuester suggested. "And then, we'll talk.
"What happened?" Elliott asked, seeing Kurt lead Blaine into the salon.
"Red dye number 6." Kurt remarked, handing Blaine a clean white t-shirt. Blaine promptly pulled off the wet white henley that he was wearing only moments before, revealing his slightly hairy chest. Kurt stood frozen for a moment, staring at the two stiff nipples, and then allowing his eyes to look down at the gorgeous man's abs. Great, thought Kurt. It's not enough that his face is gorgeous, but he had to have perfectly chiseled abs.
"Huh? Elliott asked. "Did Sebastian try to dye his clothes because of what we did to his hair?" Elliott questioned. "I was sure he was over that by now." Elliott caught Kurt staring at Blaine and snickered, pulling the fair complected boy's attention back to the situation at hand.
"Oh you were, huh? How would you know? I mean, I didn't think you two got to talk that much," Kurt grinned.
"I just talked to him today. I was his stylist, remember," Elliott said quickly. "He came to say goodbye earlier."
"But what are you still doing here? Kurt questioned. "It's late."
"I was restocking." Elliott looked nervous, which was very uncharacteristic of him. "You know how crazy it can be on the day of the show. I wanted to make sure that the salon had everything we'll need before the day of the show," he explained.
Kurt just decided to let it go, although he knew there was more to it than that. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Could you go check the supply closet to see if there's any of that conditioner I used on Blaine last time? I mean, I don't remember exactly where it is, but I thought you might. Since you were just in there," Kurt smirked. "This stuff is a bitch to rinse out. And even though you somehow thought Sebastian was hot with a red do, I don't think Blaine can rock that look." Kurt watched as Elliott's eyes got wider at the mention of Sebastian's name.
"Yeah, um, sure. I'll see if I can find it " Elliott replied, and then exited the salon.
"What was that about?" Blaine asked.
"Nothing. Inside joke," Kurt laughed. "He knows I'm kidding," Kurt explained, as he grabbed the nozzle and began rinsing out Blaine's hair. His soft fingers started running through Blaine's curls. "How's that?"
"It's really nice," Blaine blurted, blushing slightly when he realized the way he said it.
Kurt giggled. "So, Blaine, you don't have to tell me anything, unless you want to, but you seemed really scared back there. You can talk to me if you need to," Kurt coaxed, the warm water massaging Blaine's scalp as Kurt rubbed in that coconut scented shampoo Blaine loved so much.
"It's nothing, Kurt. It was just, it was dark, and when the slushie hit my face, all I saw was red." Blaine explained.
"And it triggered a memory, didn't it?" Kurt could tell Blaine's heart was racing, through the thin white t-shirt, Kurt had handed him to change into.
"It's ok, Kurt. I'll tell you, but it isn't an easy story to tell. I've never really told anyone. Only my family and Nick knows."
"Nick? The guitar player?"
"Yeah, he was my roommate at Dalton. He was awakened by quite a few nightmares. I ended up spilling the beans after a few really intense ones. He's the only reason I still have my sanity. He listened when no one else did." Blaine explained.
"I'm glad that you had him to talk to," Kurt said quietly, his fingers gently rubbing the shampoo into Blaine's scalp. "And I'll listen to you now, Blaine. Always. Anything you want to tell me. Anything."
"I know, Kurt. Thank you," he smiled. "Oh, that feels so good. Your fingers really are magical," Blaine sighed as Kurt continued massaging the shampoo into the other boy's scalp.
"Thank you Blaine. And your curls really are beautiful," Kurt smiled. "Breathtakingly beautiful," Kurt's breath hitched as he took in the scent of the coconut mixed in with Blaine's natural scent. "Talk to me, please," he coaxed as he finished lathering the shampoo.
Blaine cleared his throat, obviously hesitant to delve into a story that brought him so much pain to tell. "It was my idea. Going to the dance in the first place. Thomas was kinda feisty when he felt challenged, but he preferred to stay to himself. He reasoned that it was safer that way. He was the reason I started wearing bowties. He was quiet in his speech, but loud in his fashion choices. Much like you," Blaine said gently, pausing to smile at the memory of his friend.
Kurt smiled. "When I came out, I decided I was going to stop allowing people to dictate what I wore, what I did. I was going to be myself, so I get that," Kurt explained, as he started to rinse out the shampoo
"Thomas would always tell me he wasn't going to allow anyone to tell him who he had to be, that life was too short to walk on eggshells. You remind me of him, in that sense. He was himself, despite what anyone else said," Blaine recalled as Kurt rinsed the rest of the foam out of Blaine's hair. He was proud of who he was. He was my best friend at Central, my only friend after I came out," Blaine explained as Kurt wrapped a towel around Blaine's shoulders and started towel drying his curls with another one..
"I miss him so much," Blaine said softly, his head and shoulders slumping.
Kurt's fingers stopped what they were doing. He didn't want to hear this standing behind his friend. He wanted to see his face, in case those beautiful eyes started to shed tears because the sad tone in his best friend's voice warned that they were coming. He caught on to the past tense verbs. He caught on to the tension in Blaine's shoulders. He came around and sat in a chair, twisting around so they were face to face. He took both of Blaine's hands in his own. He looked into the shorter man's eyes. The pain from the memories in his mind was evident from the stormy look in his far-off gaze as if he was trying to retrieve a memory he had long ago repressed.
"He sounds like an amazing guy, Blaine. I'm glad you had someone you could talk to after you came out, someone that understood what you were going through."
"He was. He really was. He didn't want to go to the dance. Like I said, he was an introvert. He said we should just stay home and watch a movie, but I didn't listen. I thought that we had just as much right to attend as anyone else, and the glee club was going to perform. I didn't want to miss it. I asked him to come and watch. I assured him it wasn't a date. That we were just friends. But others didn't see it that way. We were close. Apparently, we gave off the impression that we were dating, and a few of the jocks in attendance didn't like that. But they didn't say anything. Thomas and I danced and enjoyed ourselves. We thought everything was fine, that is until we walked out of the building. It was quiet. Too quiet."
Kurt gulped. He knew where this was going.
"We should have been watching, paying attention to our surroundings, but I was only looking at him. He was beautiful in his tangerine and teal outfit, and I told him as much. He kissed me. I had my first kiss that night. It was the happiest moment of my life, absolute perfection. Nothing else mattered in that moment until I heard the leaves crunch under those boots. Those ugly boots Derek insisted on wearing. Thomas always has a sarcastic or witty remark about those boots."
Kurt saw the tear begin to form in Blaine's left eye, and it was obvious that Blaine was struggling to keep it there. Finally, the droplet won the battle and slid down the younger man's face. Kurt's finger reached up to brush it from his cheek. Blaine's hand grasped the paler boy's hand. Kurt's breath hitched. Blaine leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Kurt, Thomas was my best friend. I've never met another person quite like him. Everyone else paled in comparison. Well, until I met you. You have the same vibrant personality, that same fire in your veins. You are who you are, no apologies, no compromise, and I just love that about you."
There it was again. Blaine just said that he loved him. And this time, the look in his eye showed passion. Kurt wasn't sure it was meant for him, but he was going to take a risk. Kurt put his fingers on his cheek. "Blaine, I-"
"Kurt, here's the conditioner you were asking for," Eliott said, barging into the salon, causing the boys to instantly separate. "I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something? Blaine are you ok?" Elliott inquired. Kurt shot him a 'we're fine but you won't be if you don't get your ass out of here' look. Elliott sat the bottle on the stylist cart. "Hey, you know now that I think about it, I think I found one more can of that hairspray Santana likes, and she threatened to break the heel of her shoe off in my ass if I ran out of this stuff. I'm not taking that risk, cause I like my ass, you know. So I'm off to preserve my assets. Later," he said turning around quickly and rushing out of the room without looking back.
"Blaine, I was trying to-"
Blaine chuckled and wrapped Kurt in the tightest embrace they had yet to share, his hands sliding down the thinner boy's back. "Thank you for being here to listen, Kurt. Thank you for always being there."
"I will always listen to you, Blaine. Anytime, anywhere no matter what. But, I want you to talk to Ms. Pillsbury about this. This still pains you, Blaine, and I understand that. I get it. Something like that never really goes away. It lies dormant sometimes, but the littlest thing can awaken it in an instant, just like seeing Karofsky was a trigger for me or hearing 'We are the Champions' brought memories of my mom. It's normal. I'll even stay in there with you, or you can tell me more tonight, whatever you need Blaine."
"Then, can we go back to the group? I think what helps most in feeling normal is hearing others tell their stories, so I don't feel all alone. Would you walk back to the studio with me so we can join in on the group session? I definitely would love to just sit and talk with you privately too, but it's nice to talk and then sing about things. I'm not good at talking about my emotions. I'm much better at singing them. It's therapeutic."
"Of course we can." Kurt said, "But first, the conditioner. We don't want split ends on those gorgeous curls."
They had only been out of the room for fifteen minutes, and the contestants had obviously taken a break because they were scattered around on the stage chit chatting and joking with one another.
"Were you waiting on us?" Kurt asked.
"I went to find you two, but you weren't in the restroom," Sam remarked.
"Or the closets," Santana cackled.
"We were in the salon," Kurt admitted. "I thought the sinks might make it easier to wash out the dye than in the bathroom sinks. I'm sorry. I should've said that" Kurt apologized.
"Blaine, are you ok?"
"Yeah, but Kurt mentioned that it might help if I talked about it, and although I can't really say it all out loud, I have a song on my heart if you guys want to hear it."
They all nodded and left the stage, except Kurt, who was still holding his hand. Blaine turned toward the band and whispered the song title to Nick. The band took a moment to discuss the arrangement and then nodded at Blaine, who stood silent until it was time to sing the words that was flooding his head and heart.
.
Life's too short to even care at all, oh woah oh,
I'm losin' my mind, losin' my mind, losin' control
oh oh,
These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me woah oh,
Oh oh oh oh,
A wet world aches for a beat of a drum,
Woah Oh
.
If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I, I should have found by now
And so I run now to the things they said could restore me,
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
.
Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control
.
Tears were sliding down Blaine's face as he poured his heart out through song. Kurt wanted to run to him and hold him tightly. It hurt him seeing Blaine broken. He wanted to help fix him, make him whole. And it was that moment when he realized that Elliott was right. He needed to tell Blaine. He needed to say what he felt. Like he and Thomas had. That didn't sound like it really worked out well, though.
It was a risk. A risk he had been unwilling to take because if he told Blaine and Blaine didn't feel the same way, he'd lose Blaine. But everyone said that Blaine felt the same way. Blaine even said the L word again. It was worth the risk. Blaine was worth the risk.
.
If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I, I should have found by now
And so I run now to the things they said could restore me,
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
One more spoon of cough syrup now, oh woah
One more spoon of cough syrup now, oh woah oh oh
There wasn't a dry eye in the auditorium, and there wasn't a sitting body either, except Artie.
"I so wanna give you a standing ovation right now," Artie exclaimed. "Or a hug. You broke my heart."
"Blaine, the words of that song, are they saying what I think, that you want to hurt yourself?" Jake asked.
"No, but I do want the pain to go away, or at least to feel less of it. It's just so intense sometimes," he admitted. "I relive it, and I just wish it didn't still haunt me,"
Nick came over and hugged Blaine tightly. "The attack?" Blaine nodded. Nick's eyes showed nothing but compassion as he embraced Blaine tightly. Man, I'm always here if you need me, just like at Dalton, ok. Always," he said, patting Blaine firmly on the shoulder.
"I know, and you're the only reason I am probably standing on this stage now because I wouldn't have made it without you," Blaine admitted to his friend. "Thank you for everything,"
"Blaine, you've always been there for me too, man. I couldn't have come out to my parents without you standing there at my side. And you introduced me to Jeff. Trust me, man, we are more than even. That's what friends are for, right?" Nick replied, smiling warmly.
"Blaine, I wanted to commend you for stepping up and sharing that," Mr. Shuster praised. "That took a lot of courage. You guys, I think we'll postpone rehearsal tonight. We'll reconvene tomorrow night. Everybody go back to the house. Blaine, are you ok?"
Blaine nodded.
"Blaine, I think you should talk to Ms. Pillsbury," Will suggested.
Kurt nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I need to do this on my own, but I promise I'll come to you if I need to talk tonight," Blaine assured him. He turned to look at his mentor. "Mr. Schuester, do you think it would be ok if the other guys roomed with someone else? Just for tonight? You know, just in case I have a panic attack or a nightmare. After the attack, I had them a lot. I don't want to worry them."
Mr Schuester nodded. "I think we can arrange that. But Kurt, could you stay with him just in case he does. I don't want him to be alone, and I know you two are best friends."
Kurt nodded. "He did the same for me, Mr. Schu. Of course I will." There was no way in hell Kurt wouldn't be there for Blaine. Because Blaine was the most important person in the world. The show didn't matter. Nothing did. And he was going to tell him that tonight.
"You freakin' idiot," Sebastian sneered. I told you to get the Latina check with the fake rack. Explain to me how you hit the short Filipino instead. I mean, aside from the dark hair, I see no resemblance!"
"It was dark and we were in a hurry," Dave explained hurriedly.
"I swear, you give queers a bad name. Although your poor vision explains why you settled for that blonde twink."
"Huh? You calling my boy gay?" Azimo scolded. "Because if you are, I'll beat you skinny white ass.
"Your friend here likes to beat asses too," Sebastian sneered. "Just not the way that you do. Isn't that right, Yogi?"
"Dave? He's lying right There ain't no way in hell that you'd ever experiment with that nasty…" but Azimo didn't even finish the sentence. He didn't need too. It was obvious from the look on Dave's face that Sebastian wasn't making it up.
"Z! Wait, I was just curious! I was…"
"Save it Fag! So all of those years you harassed Hummel, you were a fag too. That's why you didn't let me kick his ass? Because you were tapping it?" Azimo accused.
"No, no! Z! It wasn't like that! I'm not Gay! I was just…."
Sebastian pushed play and shoved the video from the previous night in front of Azimo's face. Azimo clutched his stomach, almost retching all over the garage. "I can't believe you! We shared a room together, a locker room, and you are a nasty faggot. ONE OF THEM!" he screamed. "You know what! Don't ever touch me again. Don't even come near me. If you do, you'll be the one with something in your face. MY FISTS! Got that, Ass Bandit!"
"You said you weren't going to tell anybody!" Dave cried, clenching his fists. "Now, everybody will know! How in the hell can you do that to me?"
"It was pretty simple, actually. You screwed up my revenge, so I screwed you back. I know you hit Blaine on purpose. I was watching. You said his name and aimed right for him. So, we are going to try this again."
Dave's fist slammed into the concrete wall. "No wonder everybody hates you. You are a total asshole! You deserve to go home!"
"Easy Yogi. Don't be brash. I could still hit post on this little home movie I made, so you might want to retract that statement," he sneered. So, how does it feel to be screwed, Dave? Now, because you didn't follow directions, this will be a little more difficult so listen carefully!
Author's Note: Blaine is ok (or he will be). I'm sorry, but I had my reasons. I think the moment you guys are waiting for is right around the corner. I want it perfect. I'll publish when I can. No poll this week.