Chapter Twenty-Eight: Vulnerable
(Songs: Esme Denters – Outta Here)
"Blaine! Blaine, please! Slow down!" Kurt shouted desperately as he ran in pursuit of the older boy, who was walking away at an insanely fast pace.
He seemed relentless on his mission to escape.
"Blaine! Please, it's not what you think!"
This struck him.
Blaine whirled around on the spot, suddenly advancing towards Kurt, who stopped up short, alarmed now that he had gotten his wish of preventing his boyfriend from leaving.
"Don't tell me what I think!" He bellowed and his face was contorted with such anguish that Kurt could barely move but to stare at him. "Don't you dare Kurt, don't you fucking dare."
His voice was strangled, worse than it had been when he had confessed about Nathan, it sounded cracked, as though someone had clamped a cage around his vocal chords and his words scraped against this restriction.
Kurt's eyes grew wide and pleading. "Let me explain-"
"I don't want to hear it!" Blaine thundered, his hand shot out before him, towards the countertenor who stood several feet away, but he pulled back the hand which quickly went to the side of his head, tearing at his hair as he closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from shaking.
"You know…" He said in a quiet, painstaking voice, eyes opening again as he gazed at Kurt with so much hurt and so much confusion. "You know that I find it so damn hard to get close to people… to trust them. You know because…" He was finding it hard to continue over a tearless sob that ripped from his throat, "…You know because you're the only person I can tell those things to. You're the only person I could…"
He couldn't go on as he brought both hands to his temples, jaw clenched and unable to look at the boy before him.
"Please," Kurt said with the upmost urgency. He had to make him understand, he had to make him see that it was not how it seemed.
"It's not that - It wasn't. Dave was upset and-"
"Dave?" Blaine almost choked on the term. "Oh he's fucking Dave to you now is he? How long has this been going on, Kurt? He was right… goddammit he was right. About everything. He was telling the truth, when he said…"
Kurt didn't understand a lot about that last part but he didn't care; "Please - You've got it all wrong!"
He tried to step forwards but Blaine took a step back and held a hand out. It was shaking. "Don't come near me!"
"Why won't you listen to me?" Kurt yelled back, trying to force him to do so.
"I don't have to listen, Kurt, I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes and now I get to have that mental picture burned into my mind forever." As he spoke the words the idea of such a thing seemed to defeat him entirely as he turned his face away with a shuddering breath.
"Will you stop?" Kurt shouted. "Stop it! It's not true, it's-"
Blaine cut across him again, however, speaking with such rawness that it rendered Kurt speechless; "No… I can't… I can't do this. I… You were the only person that I thought would never hurt me - would never leave me and now… I can't. I'm not doing this. I won't be the one who is left again."
He seemed to be saying the harrowing words more to himself than to Kurt, but he stepped forward, trying to touch Blaine's arm even so, to do anything to stop this madness.
But Blaine jerked away and leapt back from him; "Get off! I trusted you, Kurt, and you went and did this? I can't even look at you right now, so don't you dare even think about touching me!"
He spat the last words with another suppressed sob and then he turned around and stormed off down the hallway.
"Blaine!" Kurt yelled after him, trying to take another step forwards, but legs failing him.
"Blaine! Come back…. Blaine!"
Blaine could hardly see as the tears stung his eyes, his breath coming rough and ragged through his windpipe, heart hammering.
This was not happening; how could this be happening? His worst fears… confirmed in visual torture. The image of the pair of them flashed again and he clutched a hand to his face to cover his eyes, fruitlessly hoping that would destroy the picture.
He grit his teeth and saw Karofsky's black eyes, then Kurt's dazzling blue ones in his mind's eye. He couldn't decide which one was worse; which one brought the most pain. Probably the second.
He couldn't believe Kurt would do this, but he had – he had seen it. Kurt, beautiful, pure Kurt…
Why?
Blaine emitted a coughing shudder but shut his eyes tight, tears squeezing their way from his eyes as his sockets burned. He felt betrayed, he felt wounded, and he felt angry.
He felt like he wanted to run, and keep on running until there was nowhere else to go, until he reached the ends of the universe.
His eyes snapped open, fire searing through them.
Get me out of here,
Cos' my eyes are burning from these silly tears
That you brought when you showed me you don't really care,
And you never loved me…
Blaine wrenched the words from his lips and then quickened his pace down the hallways, fists clenched and legs strong as he tore through the castle.
Someone get me out of this place
Right now
It's so amazing
How you have so many faces
And you are not that person I thought
That I had fell so deep in love with.
He ejected a laugh of humourless disgust to one side, but he carried on with scorching fury, hardly believing that he had allowed himself to be so stupid.
You changed up your make up
Your DNA
I can't recognise, you're a stranger to me
I feel so betrayed, what a waste of my heart…
He put a hand to it then, gripping the fabric there and wishing he could pull it out entirely. He stuck out his other hand and tore at one of the tapestries instead, shredding them in his rage unthinkingly. His breathing was tight, but he continued:
Get me out of here
Cos my eyes are burning from these silly tears
That you brought when you showed me you don't really care,
And you never loved me
Someone get me out of this place.
Right now.
He found the marble staircase without knowing how he had got there and he stormed up them furiously, they seemed to cease movement, as though they knew that preventing his path right now would only enrage him further. Blaine, in a way, knew he was being foolish, he knew he was overreacting, but this only made him more livid with himself.
He found himself feeling weaker now, and clutched the bannister, he thought with fresh ferocity of Karofsky; how he had stolen the one thing in his life that gave him hope; how he seemed to relentlessly attempt to drive a chasm between the two of them; how he hated the Slytherin beyond repair, and he whispered:
My body's trembling
It's so damn hard to kick this feeling
Your heart is so cold
And now I'm freezing
Wish you could feel the pain
Maybe I will arrange it
Yeah yeah
You changed up your make up your DNA
I can't recognise you're a stranger to me
I feel so betrayed
What a waste of my heart and me
He carried on up the stairway now, mind focused back on Kurt, all though this was no more pleasant a fixture.
Get me out of here
Because my eyes are burning from these silly tears
Which you brought when you showed me you don't really care,
And you never loved me
Someone get me out of this place
His pace slowed as he allowed the tears to fall from his face, splashing the stone beneath him, a hand ripped into his hair and his face crumpled, barely able to compose himself.
I thought that we were forever
I guess I misunderstood…
My fault for thinking you loved me
Or even thinking you ever could…
He gasped his next breath, chest constricting like iron bars were clamped across it, as he knew he was the one to blame for all of this. He should never have let himself be so ready to be broken; now he felt shattered, the one thing he had promised himself to never let happen.
Get me out of here…right now…
Get me out of here… Right now…
He threw one more gasp into the air before he ran up the next few steps and up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He did not even speak the password; she caught one look at his face and swung open, not wanting to say anything to him, knowing that he'd never fathom a coherent response. She looked positively fearful.
Get me out of here
Cos my eyes are burning from these silly tears
That you brought when you showed me you don't really care
And you never loved me
Someone get me out of this place
He looked up at the marble staircase, knowing that he could not go to his dormitory in case Kurt returned, or even Finn for that matter, instead he looked over at the door to the side, leading to a room reserved for quiet study and he crossed over to it, feeling like he would collapse at any moment.
Get me out of here
Cos my eyes are burning from these silly tears
That you brought when you showed me you don't really care
And you never loved me
Someone get me out of this place
Blaine found a chair in the small cupboard-like room, and he curled up within it, wrapping his arms around his head and wanting it to all go away, wanting it to stop. He didn't want to think any more. He didn't want to do anything.
Right now…
Right now…
Right now…
Someone get me out of this place.
Get me out of here…
Kurt was on his knees in the middle of the hallway when they found him. He hardly registered that it was Snape who told him to get up, that the others all had faces of panic as the Potion's Master explained that he had heard sounds from his office, that he had come and found them all out of bed, that they all had detention and that 50 points would be taken from each of them.
Karofsky had disappeared, however - God knows when he had made his escape.
Kurt hardly registered this information until much later. He vaguely recalled the curious glance that Snape gave him, by no means compassionate, but slightly concerned by the blank stare that Kurt returned, as though perhaps he related to the emptiness that seemed to exude from the younger Gryffindor, feeling as though he had lost everything. But soon the Potion's master sneered and he was sure he had imagined it.
He had seen the rest of their faces as well, but couldn't even conjure up their expressions in his mind.
They had seen his though. He had not been crying – a rarity at the best of times. He did not need to be, however, because it was all scorched into his eyes, which were almost insufferable to behold. Each of them stared at him in silence, desperate to know what had happened, but Snape forced them all into silence when they attempted to find out. Kurt couldn't answer them anyway, indeed he could not even respond when the Potion's Master sent them back to their common rooms. Mercedes and Rachel entered Gryffindor's with him, they tried to ask him what had happened, but he just stared mutely ahead of him. Finn came down the stairs when he heard them, and he took one look at his brother and went straight to his side. He wasn't even sure how he had managed to walk. Perhaps Finn had helped guide him there? He had no idea. There was no way of knowing.
Blaine was not in their dormitory, but the realisation hardly surprised him; he had expected as much and did not allow himself to think where he could be.
Kurt merely lay down on his bed, abandoning his usual bed-time routines, not even bothering to change or to peel back his covers. He curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around, as he rested his forehead onto them. He wasn't even sure if he fell asleep, or just became numb to the world.
Finn stood over him for a while, mind racing and face twisted as he tried to search for something to do, something to say — anything.
He had never seen Kurt like this, not when Karofsky was harassing him, not when Burt had been in hospital. He wondered if he had been similar when his mother had died – it was possible.
He could do nothing, nothing but put his own duvet over his brother so that he would not freeze.
Finn looked out at the night sky and then across to Blaine's empty bed.
What the hell was going on?
Finn had a hard time explaining why both his brother and Blaine were missing from lessons the next day. He tried to say that they were both ill, but it was difficult to come up with reasons why neither had been sent to Madame Pomfrey. He said he suspected it was only a muggle sickness that would be overcome in a couple days with bed rest. He only prayed that the pair of them would return to class by then, so that the teachers would not feel the need to investigate.
Kurt had not said a word of what had happened to anyone, but most of them could guess, because Karofsky was still missing, and it didn't take a genius to work it out after they had known about the fall-out before Kurt and Blaine had got together (Kurt having finally confessed to Mercedes after constant badgering). Wes, Trent and David had also suspected Blaine's paranoia, and all though they didn't know the exact details as to why the situation had blown up, they knew the root of it.
Getting through to each boy to find out the exact truth, however, had proven a futile task. Finn was lucky to squeeze two words out of Kurt for the next couple days.
The countertenor did, however, return to class after a short while, to his brother's relief, but his communicative skills improved very little. He would answer teachers, but in flat tones and as monosyllabically as possible. He would go to lessons, take notes, and then disappear before any of them had a chance to speak with him, going off to God knows where. He returned late to the dormitory each evening, with a quick word that he wished to go to bed because he was tired, and Finn hardly knew how to argue with him when his face looked so…broken.
Blaine remained sleeping in the small study, or so they suspected, very little was seen of him at all. He too turned up to the lessons after a few days, but neither boy showed any signs that they had even acknowledged the other's existence, keeping their heads down and lips sealed. It was clear that both were monstrously upset, but that was about all the information they could gather. It was as if neither of them really lived within Hogwart's walls, despite their usually vibrant personalities, they turned to all shades of grey and seemed to fade into the stone setting around them, as though they had never been there at all.
Finn filed out of his last lesson of the day, wrapped up in thoughts of his brother and how he could possibly help him. Problem was, Kurt seemed in such a fragile state that Finn was too afraid to say anything to him, since he had no way of predicting what reaction it could entail. He seemed like a porcelain doll, so easy to break and yet so difficult to fix perfectly so that you had to handle it with the upmost care and not run the risk of doing so.
He sighed, feeling so frustrated at the circumstances surrounding them all that at first he didn't even hear the Slytherin Seeker shout his name.
"Hey, I was talking to you." Jesse's voice came in clearer now and Finn looked up to see the older boy walk hastily towards him down the corridor.
His eyes were like daggers at Finn and he pointed sharply to his left, head bent low and seething, gesturing towards an empty classroom where, Finn guessed, he wanted to have a little chat.
The tall Gryffindor followed him in apprehensively and Jesse slowly closed the door behind them, turning around and folding his arms firmly.
"So," He said in a curt tone, intense eyes blazing as always, "I hear that you have been singing love songs to my girlfriend again, and it really does beg the question: when are you going to give it up?"
"Who told you that?" Finn asked, sidestepping the Slytherin's question, which he took to be mostly rhetorical, as they both knew it was to be no time soon.
"Rachel did, after a little coercing – she's been acting funny the past few days and I knew something way up."
Finn twitched a small smile at this as it proved that the song had affected her.
"Don't think that means anything," Jesse hissed smugly, "If you'd care to pay attention, you'd notice that she is still with me despite all of that."
Finn's face did fall a little, but his expression also remained determined. "She felt something when I sang to her, I know that much – she sang with me."
Jesse's expression was now the one to falter at this new information, but he stayed stern; "She chose me – When are you going to get that into that tiny, pixie-sized brain of yours?"
"She thinks that you're someone that you're not," Finn said, looking at Jesse with the upmost contempt, staring down at the shorter boy and at that moment, basking in the height difference which made him feel superior.
Jesse's face looked at him in incredulous confusion; "What are you on about? Why do you always say such cryptic nonsense?"
"You know why," Finn stated simply.
Jesse merely stared up at the younger boy, trying to comprehend his meaning and failing, so changing tact.
"You won't get her, you know," He said in a low growl.
"I don't think a slimy git like you is going to stop me," Finn retorted in a vicious whisper.
"As if you haven't done enough – now you're trying to take Rachel from me – what is it you're trying to do here? Leave me with nothing?" Jesse was fuming now, fists quaking and skin reddening.
The Gryffindor looked a little nonplussed at such a violent reaction.
"What? …What are you on about?"
Jesse seemed to ignore these questions; "I'm not going to let you win, Finn, she's mine and I'm not giving her up, and I'm willing to reveal your dirty little secret in order to keep her. Don't think that I won't play these games with every ounce of ferocity you have, if not more."
Finn was now fully taken aback and perplexed – what was this guy on?
"Excuse me?" Finn spluttered.
"Don't play dumb!" Jesse thundered, "I know that task is particularly difficult for you, since you have the mental capacity of a teaspoon, but do not do me the injustice of pretending that you haven't done what you did!"
"Okay, seriously Jesse, I know you're one for dramatics… but it was just a song, dude, this is a bit of an overreaction…" Finn muttered, looking a little frightened of the enraged Slytherin now.
"I'm not talking about the song, you great troll, I'm talking about Quinn!" Jesse finally shouted, and Finn could tell that this was exactly what he had been locking up inside him, exactly what made him hate the younger Gryffindor boy so much.
He even took a small step backwards. "What? Quinn? How can you possibly be mad at me about Quinn?"
This made no sense; it had to be some kind of joke. This was completely the wrong way around. Quinn was the reason he was angry at Jesse, not vice versa – it was why they had been arguing when Rachel walked in and why Finn had loathed the Seeker before he and Rachel had even started dating. Why he had warned Rachel not to go near him.
"For God's sake! I mean about you getting her pregnant you Neanderthal!" Jesse bellowed, flecks of spit flying from his mouth as he still maintained perfect diction.
Finn felt as though he had been hit by a frying pan, whose blow reverberated in the silent classroom. The effect was staggering and he was sure his face had never looked so shocked in his entire life as he jutted his head forward and gawped in amazement.
"I…You… What?"
Jesse's jaw was clenched so tightly together he was worried his teeth may shatter from the force as he shook and spoke in a barely audible hiss:
"Don't act like you don't know. I saw you together, and I know you knew we were together before, and I know that you leapt on her at the first chance you got. Yet now you have her you decide to pounce on Rachel too? Well I'm not having it!"
Jesse backed out the classroom, eyes fixed on Finn with tremendous fury burning within them.
"Jesse, I don't think you-"
But the Slytherin had already vanished before he could hear the urgently desperate words.
Kurt hugged his books to his chest as he made his way back towards the Common Room as curfew drew to a close, the cold chill of outside's wind still tingling his cheeks. He had been out there for a long while, away from it all, trying to see if the temperature would numb him emotionally as it did physically. He suppressed it all down into a neat little package, tucked away inside.
One foot in front of the other, he paced towards the marble staircases, before he reached it, however, somebody else entered his line of vision.
Somebody who he really did not want to see right now…
"I have to talk to you," Karofsky said in a voice that most resembled begging.
Kurt did not look him in the eyes, merely kept his head down, stepped to one side, and attempted to carry on walking.
The Slytherin caught his arm, however, and stopped him from moving.
He had expected to receive a harsh reprimand and angry shout from the Gryffindor, much like the last time he had performed such an action by the Divination tower, yet no such reaction met him.
Kurt merely came to a halt and looked down to where the larger boy's hand was clasped around his elbow. He seemed to have no emotional response.
The countertenor lifted his eyes and stared into Karofsky's now, and the Slytherin boy seemed to squirm at the sight of them, not because they were trying to push him down, but because of the opposite. They made him uneasy, because they seemed like empty voids.
"What's wrong?"
Kurt's face shifted into something of a sarcastic expression and Karofsky sighed.
"Okay, so I know what's wrong, but seriously… you look awful."
It was true, whatever had gone down in the past few days had certainly unsettled Kurt in the most revealing of ways. His skin seemed to have gained an almost yellow tinge, pale and sickly. His eyes were red and seemed smaller, strained from the pressure preventing his tear ducts. His lips were dry and ghostly, looking fixed in their down-turned position. The shadows under his eyes seemed to blend into his cheekbones…
"Thank you," He whispered bluntly.
Well, at least he spoke.
The Slytherin let go of the Gryffindor boy, but he did not move all the same, and simply let his arm drop to his side.
"Kurt… if there's anything I can do-"
A short, low cough blew from Kurt's throat as if it had been rejected from it and his eyes flashed now, substance restoring to them.
"I think that you have done quite enough already," He said with a snarl.
Kurt gripped the books to his chest again, fingers trembling and he pressed his lips together, trying to keep composure.
"Kurt… Don't you see what's happening to you? It's all his fault, you know; you're so damn dependent on him and it's tearing you apart."
Kurt choked a little and bit back tears.
"Stop it," He said in a whispering breath.
"You know I'm right," Karofsky said, sounding angry himself as he shook his head furiously at the state of the younger boy. "He's poison."
Kurt seemed to sway slightly, but he did not answer.
Karofsky blew out a long breath from his cheeks as he looked exasperatedly at Kurt.
"He doesn't want you Kurt, he's proven that now, hasn't he? When are you going to wake up and see that? I'm here for you now, see?"
Kurt found himself shaking his head instinctively, clutching his sides, fingernails biting into the skin of his upper arms as he shut his eyes in an attempt to shut him out.
Karofsky seemed to become angry at this silent dismissal. "You're dreaming, Kurt, and you're blind to reality."
Kurt fought back any displays of emotion, but he had already betrayed it long ago, in fact he'd hardly managed to conceal it at all. Cracks were appearing everywhere in his armour.
"He can't love you like I can."
"Just shut up!"
Something snapped and unleashed the tears in Kurt's eyes, which proceeded to roll down his face as he wrapped his arms around himself tighter.
The Slytherin seemed alarmed now and tried to take a step forward, but Kurt backed away wildly, wanting to escape, to run and hide, and put as much distance between himself and the toxic boy as possible.
"You… you don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about him - or about me for that matter. You have absolutely no idea… Keep away from me!" He insisted.
"You can't keep denying it," Karofsky called as the countertenor turned and started to make his way up the staircase at a fleeing pace, stumbling over the steps.
"You know he's no good, Kurt! You know he's not right for you!"
But the Gryffindor disappeared and Karofsky turned sharply, thrusting his hands in his hair and then slapping one palm against his forehead, cursing profanities into the night in his frustration.
Rachel was rudely awoken by a tapping at her window. She sat up, rubbing her eyes with her fists and looked across to the blackened squares that revealed the night as well as a tiny white owl.
She heaved herself up from her bed, swung her legs around the side and sloped towards the window dozily, wrenching the window open with great effort, and allowing the bird entrance.
"Whaaaat?" She groaned, eyes barely opened as it placed the letter in her hand.
She glanced over at Mercedes, who had not stirred, sighed, and opened the letter.
Dear Rachel,
I realise that it is late, and I know that I will see you tomorrow where we can discuss this further, but I feel as though I need to inform you of this now. I think that you may already suspect what I have to tell you – but I feel that you need the confirmation…
Rachel continued to read Jesse's letter and as she did so her hand flew to her mouth – he had been right about its confirmation. Confirmation of the troublesome thoughts that had spun around her head for weeks now. She felt as though a hole had been drilled into the pit of her stomach as her hand that held the letter dropped to her side, and she couldn't help but allow a single tear to fall from her cheek and splash upon the carpet beneath her.
Hello Readers,
Apologies, I know I left you on a cliffhanger last time, and I am willing to bet that if that made you angry, this will by no means improve your mood...
Juuuuuuust wait
;)
Yes, that's all I'm saying!
Apart from another BIG thank you to everyone who has been reviewing and are still following this story! You guys are the best! Hope you're surviving the hiatus. I barely am.
