Chapter 24:

Kurt sat on Blaine's couch, with Blaine lying with his head in his lap, reading a book. Kurt absently ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, deep in thought. He'd been at Blaine's house for an hour now, but he still hadn't told him what had happened earlier in that day. With Jake, and George.

He was still processing it himself, actually. It was all so unreal.

At least he knew why George had been staring at him for the last god knows how long. He wanted to tell Blaine, talk to him about everything that had happened but for some reason, he just didn't know how to bring it up.

"So, um, what are you reading?" He asked, wondering what the odds of George naturally appearing in their conversation would be.

"It's called 'Heart of Darkness'." Blaine said, putting the book down on his, keeping it open to his page. He looked up at Kurt and grinned. "It's about a guy who's obsessed with a man named Kurtz.*"

Kurt smiled back, running his fingers tenderly across Blaine's forehead. "Blaine...if you have something you want to talk about, but don't really know how to bring it up, what do you say?"

"Well, probably something like that, actually." Blaine said, sitting up slowly. "What's on your mind?"

Kurt decided to just skip right to it. "You know how everyone says that George was in a mental asylum this year?" Blaine nodded. "Well, I spoke to him and it turns out that's true. And when he was in that asylum-" He broke off and looked at Blaine for reassurance (about what, he wasn't sure). Whatever it was, he found it in Blaine's concerned hazel eyes. Kurt took a deep breath. "He met Finn."

"Oh. Wow." Blaine said, looking startled. Maybe he should have eased him into it more. Or, at all. "Thats. Wow."

"Yeah. I know."

They were sitting in the hallway outside of the solitary rooms. Paige was kneeling next to Finn, the only way she was at the right height to wrap her arms over one of his broad shoulders as he sobbed into his hands.

"I wanted to-" he wept, looking thoroughly disgusted with himself. "I wanted to so badly."

"But you didn't." She reminded him. He shook his head, as if that hardly mattered. She sighed inwardly, never able to understand why Finn could never just look on the bright side of things.

No, that wasn't true. She did understand, half the time. The half of the time when there was no bright side. When it was all in the dark and everything was nothing.

But the other half of the time, it just didn't seem to make sense to focus on the bad stuff, because the good stuff was much gooder. Why wouldn't you want to focus on the gooder, instead of the badder?

Heh. Badder. Sounds like batter.

She hugged Finn tightly, waiting for a break in his sobs where she could remind him how super amazing he was. He wouldn't believe her, he never did, but she thought he liked to hear her say it anyways.

His tears slowed, eventually, and she took his large hands in her own small ones. "Finn, he was in your bed with his hands-" She blushed a little, and Finn snorted. "Well, you know. So he's in your bed, and he's such a fox-" Finn shot her his patented "God Dammit, Paige, I'm not freaking Gay!" look, and she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, but he is. Anyways, considering all your issues I think that given the circumstances, wanting is fairly understandable."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked, his eyes wide. "How could you say that was understandable? It was disgusting! I'm disgusting. A fucking disgusting ra-"

"I said 'given the circumstances'!" She bristled, cutting him off before he could get into full on self-deprication mode. "And it's not right or good, of course. But given your circumstances I can understand your feelings!" She shook his shoulders a little as she spoke, trying to force it into his numb-skulled head that she was not saying his creepy need for icky sex was OK, because- just no. So much no. "Do you see what I am shaking?" she asked, giving him an extra shake.

"No." He said stubbornly. She let go of his shoulders, knowing that his "no" was really angry-person code for "Yeah, yeah, I got it..."

"Good." She said cheerfully, wrapping her arms back around him. Almost on cue, he burst back into tears and buried his head against her shoulder. She could feel his cold tears soaking into her t-shirt, and a cold spot seemed to spread across her chest as well. She hated seeing Finn like this, it was heart-breaking. She hated not being able to make it all better, too. She was pretty sure she'd pay any crazy ridiculous amount of money, or give up anything she had if she could somehow just make it all better for Her Finn.

Occasionally when she was in a rare, introspective mood (rare because once she entered her own mind, there was guarantee she could come back out. So it was better just to avoid that place) it would occur to her that having such an attactchment to someone who was technically a mentally-diseased rapist was probably unhealthy. In all logical ways, Finn was Evil. Rapists were Evil. Finn was a Rapist.

So it was probably a good thing that she'd never really given much credit to logic.

Logic, and you know...the law, might say he was...but he didn't seem evil. He didn't feel evil.

That was good enough for her.

Even though she knew what he'd done, and what he'd wanted just last night to do again, something in her couldn't believe that Her Finn was evil. No one evil would be crying like this on her shoulder, begging her to tell him how terrible and awful he was. Begging her to have him killed, so he couldn't hurt anyone else.

"You're not going to hurt anyone else, don't you understand Finny?" She said soothingly, rubbing him on the back as he shook against her. "You didn't hurt Marcel. That's what's important. You might have wanted to but you didn't. And you won't."

"You don't know that." He muttered, trying to wipe the still-pouting tears from, his eyes.

"No, but I believe it." She said, placing a small kiss on his forehead. "I believe in you, Finny, 'cause I loves you."

He snorted again. "You love a sicko."

She decided to use her discretion, and not make any of the million Planet Terror* references that had just popped into her mind.

"No, I love a strong, sweet guy who used to be a sicko, and is making awesome progress towards recovering. And everyday I know him, there's less and less sicko, and more and more Finn."

"I don't want to be a sicko anymore. I want to be me again." He whispered.

Paige nodded. "You will be, Finny. Real soon."

"I still don't understand how he could say that." Kurt said quietly, leaning back against Blaine on the couch. They'd practically reversed positions now, although instead of having his head in his lap, Kurt was sitting between Blaine's legs, lying against his chest. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "How could I be anyone's hero?"

"Easily. You've survived something soul-disturbingly awful, and come out stronger on the other end. Everyday you live with what happened to you, but you're not letting it stop you from being amazing. Which you are, by the way. Amazing." Blaine said simply, kissing Kurt on the ear and squeezing him. "And you're also my hero."

"Well, I certainly am amazing." Kurt said cheekily. However, he was still quiet for a few moments, considering what Blaine said.

Blaine waited patiently for Kurt to speak again, an odd feeling of anticipation settling on his shoulders. He didn't know why, there wasn't really anything in Kurt's demeanour to suggest that he was going to say, or do something important. But still.

He waited.

When Kurt spoke again it was in a quiet, timid voice, almost like that of a child's.

"...I'm ready to tell Mercedes."

Blaine sucked his breath in, worried that having a too-enthusiastic reaction would freak Kurt out. "That's amazing, Kurt." He said, his tone the perfect combination of warmth and pride. "I really think it's the right thing to do. You miss her, I know you do."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I definitely miss her. I've just been worried that once she knew...she wouldn't see me anymore. She'd just see what happened to me." Kurt sighed, and Blaine caressed Kurt's cheek a little, not wanting to interrupt him. "But I have to face the fact that what happened is a part of me. I can't hide that from Mercedes, obviously she could tell something was wrong. But it's not me. What happened isn't me." Kurt said, a determined ring in his voice, as though he was still trying to convince himself that it was true.

"No, it's not." Blaine confirmed. Kurt tilted his head back, and smiled at Blaine. Blaine leaned down, craning his neck to place a light, almost upside down kiss on Kurt's lips. "You're stronger than what happened to you." He whispered.

Paige was in some kind of artistic 7th heaven, sitting in a corner of the room nearing the TV, sketching Marcel and Michael with an excited fervour. She'd started when they were sitting up, cuddling quietly while watching TV, and was still drawing over an hour later when Michael was lying across the couch with his feet in Marcel's lap. Marcel had a sharpie with him, and was doodling on the cuffs of Michael's jeans.

Finn had been watching her for a while, her odd fascination with them making him feel somehow better.

However, she'd been drawing them ever since they'd left the hallway by the solitary rooms, and although Finn was fine with sitting quietly beside her as she drew, just waiting for the pit in his stomach to calmly disappear, eventually he had needed to eat.

When he'd gotten back, bringing along a few pop tarts for Paige (if she'd ever put the pad down) her subjects had once again switched positions; Michael was lying down on the couch and Marcel was lying on top of him, his head against Michael's chest. As Finn approached, he could see that Marcel was fast asleep.

He felt better now, considerably, and decided that now was a good time to get something that had been really bugging him off his chest.

Going around to the front of the couch, Finn knelt in front of Michael.

"So, who's the faggot now?" He asked, grinning. Not particularly mature, sure...but after 6 months of being called a fag by a guy who was now cradling another dude in their arms, maturity suddenly seemed like a non-issue.

"Still you." Michael said lightly, stroking Marcel's hair.

Finn sighed, shaking his head. "Just like- I don't know. Can you tell me maybe how this happened?" He asked, gesturing to Marcel and him. "I mean, he's been here two weeks. What can two weeks change?"

Micheal shrugged as much as he could with Marcel asleep on him. Marcel yawned a little, shifting around a little turning his face away. Michael grinned as though it was the most adorable thing in the world.

"Everything, I guess. Everything's changing now. The last two weeks...the next two weeks. It's a lot of time for things to happen." He smiled, and tilted his head back on the couch.

"Very poetic. Meaningless though." Finn said, raising an eyebrow.

"The most poetic things usually are." Michael said, grinning. Finn rolled his eyes.

"I've spent 6 months watching you do nothing but stare at the TV, grunting 3 word responses every now and then. Cut the bullshit."

Michael sighed. "I just- I've never liked anyone before." He said slowly. "Girls are fucking bitches, guys are assholes. I never wanted anything to do with any of them." He wrapped his arms over Marcel, smiling to himself. "He's different. Special, you know?"

Finn shook his head. "No, not really."

Michael didn't respond, he just kept stroking Marcel's hair, letting his fingers trail down his neck and over his back.

"You should know though," Finn said, keeping his voice steady. He didn't really want to tell Michael, somehow it felt like he was ratting Marcel out...but Michael needed to know what was happening with Marcel. Especially if he was going to help him through it. "He came to me, last night."

"I know. He told me." Michael said, sounding fairly emotionless.

"Uh, what did he tell you exactly?"

"He tried to jerk you off." Michael said flatly. He turned to look at him, a funny expression on his face. "Thank you, for stopping him. And for not hurting him. I know it must have been hard."

Finn blinked in surprise, realizing that the odd expression on his face was gratitude. "It was. Hard, I mean. But you know, I couldn't do that again."

Michael nodded, turning back to the sleeping boy on his chest. "Thank you." He repeated.

"You're welcome."

Michael was quiet for a moment, before glancing at Finn again. "So are we just gonna let that sit there?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

Michael grinned. "'It was hard.'" He said, snickering a little.

Finn rolled his eyes.

Marcel gave another small yawn, changing positions on Michael's chest again. He moved his arm up next to his face, turning back to face Finn again. Michael trailed his fingers over Marcel's arm, lingering over his wrist, which was a dull red colour. Finn furrowed his brow, looking closely at Marcel's wrist and wondering what had happened to it. There were no cuts on it, just more of a raw red band going around, as though the skin there had been rubbed sore.

He glanced up at Michael, and saw that was also looking sadly at Marcel's wrists. "They had him chained up." He said quietly. He set his jaw firmly, drawing his mouth in a tight grimace. "Actually in fucking chains. I can't even-" He shook his head angrily, his eyes growing cloudy and dark.

Finn thought about that for a moment, before deciding that no, that was not something he wanted to think about. "How much else do you know, about what happened to him?"

"Not much. He doesn't like to talk about it. Every now and then, I can get him to, but I don't really like to push." Michael swallowed painfully, and brushed a bit of Marcel's spiky black hair off his forehead, where he placed a kiss. He glanced at Finn. "I just feel so frustrated, y'know? Like I want to make it better for him so bad but I can't."

"Well, you could try to help with somethings." Finn said slowly.

"Like?"

Finn looked away. "Um, well, I don't know if you really know why he keeps coming to me-"

"I do." Michael said instantly. Finn couldn't tell if he was bitter or angry about it- the emotion was gone from his voice once again. "He wants to instigate you into raping him. Well, he thinks about it as screwing but that's not what it would be."

"Uh, so do you know why-"

"Yes, Finn, I know." Michael hissed, glaring at him. "He's horny. Is that what you want me to say? They spent all their time there fucking him and getting him off, and even though he hates it, he can't fucking live without it." Michael turned away before Finn could get a good look, but for a second Michael's cloudy eyes had seemed glassy, as though they were filling up with tears. "Are you goddamned fucking happy now?"

"Uh no, not really." Finn mumbled. Michael glared. "Look my point is, you can help him with that."

"How?"

"By-" Finn raised his eyebrows, widening his eyes suggestively. "-you know."

Michael sighed. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, it's treating a symptom."

"'While the disease rages on, consumes the human race. The fish rots from the head, so they say. So I'm thinking, why not cut off the head?'" Paige said in a mechanical voice, not looking up from her sketch.

"'Of the human race?'" Finn asked, playing along with what she was quoting.

Now she looked up, grinning. "'It's not a perfect metaphor.'" She finished.

Michael looked back and forth between them. "You two are goddamned nuts."

"It's from 'Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.'" Finn informed him.

"Oh I know what it's from. Doesn't change the fact that you two are goddamned nuts."

"I have something else I want to do, too." Kurt continued quietly. "But I'm not really ready to talk about it, just yet."

"You don't need to then." Blaine said simply. Kurt smiled a bit, snuggling back against him.

"Do you have anything you want to talk about?" He asked, tilting his head up to look at Blaine.

Blaine shrugged. "I got my english paper back."

"And?"

"B+."

Kurt turned around a little. "Well, that's good then, right? I mean since you only thought you were going to get a B. And you got a plus. That's plus!"

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, it's fine. Nothing wrong with a B+."

"That is very true, there is nothing wrong with a B+." Kurt agreed. "But you know, this is a safe place." He said, gesturing between him and Blaine. "You can bitch, if you want."

Blaine hesitated for a moment, before sitting up on the couch. Kurt sat up as well, and turned to face Blaine, both of them sitting with their legs crossed, knees touching. "It's just like, ok fine I know a B-"

"Plus." Kurt reminded him.

"Plus." Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, a B+ is fine if your a person who get's B's, B+'s or like A-'s. If you get C's, it's fricken great. But I don't get C's. I don't get B's. I don't even get A-'s. I get A's. A+'s, usually. It's just what I do. I work hard, I do well. So fine, I get that when you complain about a grade that really doesn't seem like a bad one to most people you seem like sort of a- you know, prick or whatever, but look at this from my perspective."

Kurt smiled, listening to Blaine complain. It was kind of nice, actually, listening to him vent. Eventually he moved back into Blaine's lap, and Blaine moved on from his grades, to his family.

"It's just like, all the time you know?" He muttered, shaking his head. Kurt had his eyes closed and he nodded against Blaine's chest. "I mean, do we really need to celebrate every single one of their birthday's? I love my cousins, really and truly I do...but there's just so much of them. And we just had a reunion with the whole family!"

"Which cousin's birthday is this?"

"Breenie. She's turning 14. I think...anyways, you've been invited." Blaine said. Kurt could tell that despite his casual tone, he was holding his breath, waiting for his reply.

"Awesome." Kurt said, and he didn't even need to open his eyes to know Blaine was grinning like a mad man. "I like your family."

Blaine scoffed. "They're nuts. Possibly literally. You will be pleased to know that this gathering will be much smaller. Just my aunts and uncles. And their kids."

"When is this?"

"About two weeks, I think." He felt Blaine move his fingers through his hair, and he sighed softly. Two weeks...he'd have told Mercedes by then. His stomach knotted. He'd have done the other thing he wanted to do by then as well. He wondered if things would be different after that.

He didn't know. But he did know that after he'd told Mercedes...and after the other thing...he was officially ending the "recovering" period of his life. Two weeks. In two weeks, Kurt Hummel was going to get back to living.

*Yeah, this really is not what "Heart of Darkness" is about. Blaine knows that, he's just trying to be cute. I mean, the main character does have an obsession with a man named Kurtz, but the story is much deeper than that. It's about industrialization, atavism, struggling to maintain your humanity and civility in the face of savagery...

It's a great book, but a total bitch to read.

A/N: Kurt's little inner-monolouge at the end there is signalling that soon, this story will be coming to a close. Don't worry, a few more chapters are on the way! And of course, an epilogue. I really like epilogue's.

Also, in my head I call this chapter "Reactions and Set-ups"

So it totally wasn't filler.