AN: So, today, well technically yesterday now, was the one year anniversary of when I published the first chapter of this. I can' believe some of you have stuck with me that long! Especially since lately I can only manage one chapter ever six weeks it seems. Hopefully things are calming down a bit now, and I should have a new laptop soon, so with any luck updates will come weekly or biweekly soon...no promises though!
Santana set her phone down on the table and studied Blaine out of the corner of her eye. He was perched on the edge of the couch at the opposite end of her, his posture rigid, jaw clenched, and good hand gripping the top of one of his crutches that leaned next to him. Everything about his outward appearance suggested he was pissed beyond belief, but the slight tremor in his left hand and the kicked puppy look in his eyes hinted that his emotions weren't that simple. Beyond what was visible to the eye ran a confused mess of thoughts and feelings, like a pile of jumbled wires behind an entertainment center. You had no clue which wire was plugged into which piece of equipment or where it went in the power strip, either. You could see the middle part that lay in a pile with the rest, but you had no idea where they came from and where they were going from there.
Blaine tried his best to get a grip on his thoughts, to figure out what he was feeling, what the dominant mood in the cocktail of sentiments he felt was, but he couldn't do it. Was he angry? Yes. Hell yes. He could feel the fury boiling in his heart, threatening to spill over. But who was he angry at? His father topped the list of course, but he was also displeased with Santana for babysitting him, Puck for running off to Sebastian's without telling him, Seb for sneaking Puck's number and then calling him and Will for leaving without bothering to tell him what was going on.
But anger was just one ingredient in the mix, it's flavor wasn't as strong as it could have been because it was diluted with the sourness of fear, the tartness of worry, the bitterness of guilt, the acidic burn of helplessness. And that was just the beginning of his own personal recipe for a breakdown.
His brain was so busy trying to sort through his feelings that he didn't even register Santana's voice as she spoke to him, didn't notice when she got up and stood in front of him. Blaine's mind was in overdrive, working through everything, close to shorting a circuit. He could feel the downward spiral happening within him, he knew his grip on reality was vanishing. What he didn't know was how to stop it.
"Blaine!" Santana said for the fifth time, urgency and concern etched in her voice. She still received no response. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, not liking how the sadness in his eyes had turned dark before going out completely, leaving him with a creepy, blank stare.
His eyes were pointed directly at her, but Santana knew he wasn't seeing her, not really. With a muffled, frustrated scream, Santana placed both her hands solidly on Blaine's shoulders, gripped tightly and gave him a good shake as she hollered his name in his face for the umpteenth time.
Will hadn't even come to a complete stop in the driveway before Puck was throwing open his door on the passenger side and jumping out, jogging up the steps and into the house, anxious to check on Blaine. He heard Santana saying Blaine's name repeatedly as he hurried through the kitchen and into the living room where the pair was.
"What's wrong? What's going on?" He asked Santana, who moved over as Puck arrived by them. It was a stupid question, of course. Puck knew exactly what was wrong and exactly what was going on. He took Santana's place in front of Blaine, kneeling down in front of him and placing his hands on Blaine's knees, squeezing lightly and speaking in a soothing voice.
Will and Sebastian joined Santana where she stood, off to the side, out of the way, all three of them sensing that Puck knew what he was doing and that Puck was the person Blaine would respond to right now.
Blaine's entire body was shaking as if someone had electrified him, and his eyes were hazy, unfocused, lost. The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and nothing changed. Will, Sebastian and Santana still stood in a small cluster off to the side, Puck stayed kneeling in front of Blaine, murmuring so softly to him that no one could make out what he was saying, and Blaine remained stuck inside of his own head, sinking deeper and faster the more he struggled to find a way out, just like quicksand.
It was getting to the point where Will was ready to call an ambulance and Sebastian and Santana were considering picking Blaine up and shaking him. Puck was beginning to wonder if he was fighting a losing battle. He'd never seen Blaine retreat this far into himself and certainly not for so long.
Puck spoke to the other inhabitants of the room without turning around. "Give us a few minutes alone. If he hasn't snapped out of it in five minutes I'll call the ambulance myself."
Santana and Sebastian nodded, even though Puck couldn't see them, and shuffled off into the kitchen, Santana reaching back and yanking Will after her when he looked ready to protest.
Puck waited until they were alone, and then moved his hands off Blaine's knees, taking the other boy's left hand in his right one and gently placing his left hand on Blaine's cheek. "Blaine, honey, it's okay. It's just you and me now, all right? I know you don't want to go back to the hospital, so I need you to come back to me, please. Whatever's going on in your head, we'll figure it out together. Promise," Puck begged in a whisper, trying not to let the panic he felt show in his voice.
It took another minute of Puck's soothing, hushed promises, but slowly the vibrating in Blaine's body eased, and a dull light began to overtake the shadows in his eyes.
"Hey," Puck said quietly, smiling at Blaine, and continuing to stroke his hand and cheek.
Blaine blinked, eyes still not focused completely, the fog still not fully cleared from his brain. He blinked a few more times, until his vision was no longer blurred, and then looked around wildly with just his eyes until they finally centered on Puck.
"Welcome back," Puck's smile grew into a fully fledged grin.
Blaine offered no response except a small upward quirk of his lips that wasn't quite a smile and that disappeared when he gave his head a quick shake, attempting to clear the rest of the murkiness from his mind.
Puck waited patiently for Blaine to say something or make a move; he just smiled encouragingly at him in silence, not protesting when Blaine removed his hand from his grasp.
After a few minutes, Blaine timidly reached his hand back out, bypassing Puck's hand and instead, lightly tracing a line down the bridge of his nose, shuddering as he did so, as if it was his nose and not Puck's that was swollen and bruised. "I'm sorry," Blaine said in a soft voice, guilt crashing over him like a wave as he saw the proof of what his father had done.
Puck shook his head, "For what? You didn't punch me."
"I know," Blaine said in a broken voice. "But-"
"But nothing." Puck stated firmly. "You can't blame yourself for someone else's actions. Okay?"
Blaine nodded mutely.
"Schue, Santana and Sebastian are kinda worried. Why don't we go in the kitchen, get something to drink?" Puck suggested, standing up, and holding out a hand.
Blaine was still quiet, but he took Puck's outstretched hand and let the other boy pull him up, taking the crutches he held out in his other hand with a mumble of what Puck thought was thanks.
Santana could be (and had been) called a lot of things, but oblivious was certainly not one of them. She knew when two people were more than friends, and she had no doubt in her mind that Puck and Blaine were not just friends. Hell, up until a few weeks ago Puck hated the guy. She'd never understood why Puck seemed to loathe Blaine so much before, but now she was pretty sure she had an idea. Whether Puck realized it then or even now she doubted, but subconsciously, his reasons for disliking Blaine before were now crystal clear.
Ignoring Schue's protests, she peaked around the corner at Puck and Blaine, denying them the privacy they obviously thought they had. Santana smirked to herself as she looked at the proof; Puck held Blaine's hand in one of his and had his other hand on Blaine's cheek.
"Say anything to anyone and I promise you, you'll regret it."
Santana jumped at the velvety smooth voice in her ear that didn't sound like it was joking. She pivoted, placing one hand on her hip, and glaring at Sebastian. "Don't sneak up on me like that you rodent," She hissed.
"Then don't spy on people," Sebastian retorted, shaking his head. He went back to where Mr. Schue was waiting at the kitchen table, ignoring everything going on in his own home, chuckling as Santana joined them a few seconds later, looking annoyed.
"Done eavesdropping, Princess?" Sebastian never was one to let things go and keep his mouth shut. He got a kick out of aggravating people. Especially when they made it so easy.
"Shut up you little-"
"Enough!" Will rarely raised his voice at any of his students but he refused to sit there passively, listening to the two of them bicker. "If you two can't do anything but take shots at each other, than just don't speak, all right? I'm going to go see how Blaine is; if he isn't better I'm taking him to the hospital." Will declared, standing up swiftly, causing his chair to scrape backwards against the linoleum.
"I'm fine," Said a tired, out of sorts voice, that didn't actually sound fine at all.
"Blaine," Will couldn't hide his shock. He wondered how Puck had gotten him to snap out of it, the kid had practically been comatose a few minutes ago. More and more Will found himself thinking that asking Puck to stay with him and Blaine had been one of the best decisions he'd made recently. They certainly seemed to have bonded, and Blaine seemed to trust Puck when he wouldn't trust anyone else. Will didn't even want to think of where he and Blaine would be right now if it was just the two of them living in his house. Most likely Will would still be standing awkwardly in the kitchen waiting for Blaine to come in off the front porch steps.
The kitchen was quiet, no one quite knowing what to say, Blaine, embarrassed, was suddenly enthralled with the white on white pattern of his socks, Will was still too surprised Blaine was moving and talking like nothing had happened, Sebastian knew his childhood friend well enough that he began scratching his forehead in a useless attempt to cover his black eye, Santana was staring at Puck, seeing him in a new light other than the manwhore she used to hook up with, and Puck had a sinking feeling he knew why Santana was looking at him funny, so he dashed outside to smoke a cigarette.
Will finally looked over at Santana and Sebastian, still seated at the table, trying to convey to them to give them a minute alone. Sebastian picked up on it, and stood up. "I think I'm going to see if Puck needs help lighting his cigarette," He gave Santana a meaningful look.
Santana jumped up out of her chair, glad for an excuse to get away from the weird vibes. "Me too! Those child safety lighters can be so damn tricky, can't they?" Santana and Sebastian practically sprinted for the door, leaving a slightly bemused Will and a still shy Blaine behind.
Will busied himself in the cabinets and at the sink, finally turning around to face Blaine. "Here," Will set a glass of water and a Xanax on the table, motioning for Blaine to sit and take the pill.
Blaine obeyed, and then looked up at Will expectantly.
Will sighed, scratched the back of his neck, and then sat back down in the chair opposite the teen. "Talk to me, Blaine. Tell me what's going on, what I can do to help. What are you feeling?"
Blaine gave a halfhearted shrug and made a noise in the back of his throat.
"Blaine, if you shut me out, I can't help you."
"Who says I need help?" Blaine mumbled, a slight hint of agitation in his voice.
"Everyone needs help now and again," Will said gently, picking up on the sudden change in Blaine's mood. He knew he wasn't going to get much out of the teen tonight. Once Blaine's mood shifted a certain way his personality seemed to change completely along with it. Blaine's eyes held that defensive look Will was growing to despise and he knew it was only a matter of time before Blaine either shut him out completely or began getting angry.
"If you need anything, I'll be in my office grading papers," Will said finally, feeling defeated. "I'm always here, Blaine. Don't forget that." Will stood up and left the kitchen, leaving a somewhat confused Blaine behind.
Sebastian turned away from the window he was peeking in to glance at Puck, feeling as if he should ask permission. "Do you mind if I talk with Blaine alone for a little bit?"
Puck looked surprised and shrugged. "No, man, whatever."
Sebastian nodded thanks, and let himself back inside the house. Blaine was sitting at the counter, circling a finger around the top of his glass of water absently. He made no indication that he was aware of Sebastian's presence, but when Sebastian spoke he didn't startle in the slightest.
"How goes it, killer?" Sebastian turned a chair around and straddled it backwards, resting his chin on the back, and waiting for his friend to respond.
Blaine didn't turn to look, but he let his shoulders rise and fall and gave a small shake of his head.
"Can you at least look at me while we talk?"
Blaine sighed, but turned his stool around, glaring at Sebastian as he waited.
For the first time, Sebastian really studied the boy who had always been like his brother. He hated himself for not seeing it before. For not seeing the sadness, the fear, the anger that was so obvious in Blaine's face. For a long, drawn out moment the two childhood friends just stared at each other in a contemplative silence, the air between them thick with Sebastian's guilt.
"I'm so sorry," Sebastian whispered after a long time, breaking the eye contact, feeling like the worst person ever to walk the earth. How could he have not noticed how bad things were for Blaine? Why had he never spoken up? He'd known things weren't great at home for Blaine, so why had he never fucking opened his damn mouth? He'd certainly never hesitated to do that at any other moment in his life.
Blaine tilted his head, mimicking the gesture of a confused animal, unsure what Sebastian was apologizing for. "For what?"
Sebastian let out a humorless laugh, disbelieving. "For what? For what? For not fucking doing anything! I knew your dad hit you, and I never spoke up! I knew you were unhappy and I never said a damn word! I knew things weren't right and I didn't do a Godamn thing, did I? Not once over the course of seventeen fuckin' years did I ever say or do anything! I let you spend the night at my house how many fuckin' times and then just let you go home to that…that monster afterwards! I could have said something, done something, to stop this years ago, and I never fuckin' did!" Sebastian exploded, angrier at himself than he'd ever been, tears shining bright in his eyes.
Blaine was taken aback by Sebastian's outburst, not used to seeing him like that. Sebastian was cool, calm, collected. His emotions never got the best of him. Sometimes Blaine doubted he even had emotions. "Seb, I never-" Blaine faltered. "I never blamed you. I never wanted you to do anything to begin with. Hell I never wanted you to even know."
"That's not the point, Blaine! The point is I should have done something! Because I did know! Maybe not the extent of it, but I knew. Deep down I fuckin' knew!"
Blaine struggled up and moved over to the table sitting next to Sebastian. "It's done now. Can't change anything. Anyways, in seventeen years I never once asked for help, so," Blaine shrugged and left it there.
"Maybe. But, still. I can't change how I feel, Blaine. And right now, I feel guilty as fuck."
"Well maybe that speaks a lot, in and of itself, y'know?" Blaine responder after a few minutes of silent contemplation. Sebastian gave him a questioning look, so he elaborated. "You feel guilty that you never stepped in because you feel like that makes you a bad friend or some shit, right?" Blaine asked, and Sebastian nodded. "Okay, well, if you weren't a good friend than would you really feel guilty right now?"
Sebastian took in Blaine's words and eventually offered a small smile. "Guess you're right. Can I ask you something?" Now Blaine nodded. "If we are really friends, than why didn't you ever ask me for help? Why were you never honest with me about what was going on? You know my parents would have taken you in, all you had to do was ask."
"I know. And maybe that was enough for me. To know that all I had to do was come clean and ask for help. Just knowing there was a family out there that would take me in," Blaine shrugged. "I dunno. I guess that was all I needed to keep going on the days when it felt pointless. Just the knowledge that someone somewhere gave a shit, y'know? Should I have said something when it started getting really bad? Yeah. But I didn't. I've never been one to ask for help, you know that. Hell my first complete sentence was 'Do myself'," Blaine gave a chuckle. "I didn't want your help. I didn't want to ask for it. I thought that would be admitting defeat, that it would make me weak. Looking back, I was young and dumb. But like I said, we can't change anything now. The past is the past. Bastian, you're like a brother to me. You know that. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Sebastian smiled and placed a friendly hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Ditto. But next time, come to me, all right? Open up to me. You know I'm always here for you."
"I know. And same goes for you," Blaine smiled back.
Sebastian broke up the moment after a few minutes by bringing his arm back down and nudging his oldest friend shoulder's with his own. "Full House moment over."
Sebastian was never quite comfortable with any type of serious, heartfelt conversation, and Blaine was surprised it had gone on so long in the first place.
"So, listen B, The Warblers' sectionals is this Friday night, and we'd all love for you to be there," Sebastian switched topics so fast that Blaine had a hard time following and it took him a minute to process what Sebastian had said.
When his brain finally caught up, Blaine had no idea how to answer. He honestly hadn't been expecting that one. The thought of going had never crossed his mind, He was at a loss. On one hand, he'd love to go, of course he would. He wanted to see his friends perform, be there to cheer them on and support them, watch them kick ass like they undoubtedly would. But on the other hand…It would be weird to sit in the audience and watch something he was normally a part of. To watch his friends perform without him. And the potential of someone seeing him and asking questions he wouldn't know how to, nor want to, answer was extremely high. Probably unavoidable.
"Let me think about it, okay? Figure out if it's even doable and if it's something I think I can deal with, y'know?"
Sebastian immediately felt like a jerk. Again. "Shit, B," He sighed, mad at himself all over again. He hadn't bothered to think of it from Blaine's perspective. Hadn't considered how hard or uncomfortasble it could potentially be for him. "Sorry, man. I wasn't thinking, of course you don't want to-"
Blaine cut off his friend abruptly. "It's not that I don't want to. Just…just give me a couple of days to mull it over, okay? I'll get you an answer by midweek," He promised.
Sebastian nodded, fidgeted with his sleeves for a second, then stood up, his signature smirk back in place all of the sudden. "C'mon. Puck and Santana are worried about you. And for the record, Santana isn't a cheerleader in her brain, she's figured out something is up between you and Puck."
"Fuck," Blaine muttered as he allowed Sebastian to pull him to his feet so they could go join Puck and Santana.
Santana barely waited for Sebastian to close the door before she pounced on Puck, slapping him on the shoulder and ranting in Spanish for a few minutes.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell?" Puck asked jumping back, and then rubbing his shoulder and glaring at her. "Cool it with the Spanish, I can't understand a damn word you're saying, you crazy bitch."
"Oh, you did not just call me crazy. I'll show you crazy!"
"For fuck's sake, Santana would you calm the fuck down and tell me what the hell you're yelling at me about?"
"Uh, the fact that you've not only apparently decided you like guys now, but the guy you decide to go after is pretty much the most broken and fucked up guy in Ohio who could probably do with a few less complications in his life, not more?" Santana spit out through her teeth, waving her finger around at him while her other hand rested on her cocked out hip.
"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now?" Puck hissed right back, his blood boiling. "First off, you shouldn't get involved in situations that don't fuckin' concern you, second, you shouldn't judge things when you don't know the whole godamn story, and third, well, do you mind if I'm the pot this time? Of course I could be the kettle just as easily, since they're both fuckin' black!"
"Excuse me? Now who's loco?"
"Oh, give it up Santana! You want to give me shit because I'm suddenly finding myself falling for someone of the same sex, but at least I wasn't fucking you at the same time it was happening. Last I checked, the only reason you kept jumping in my bed was so you could pretend you weren't in love with Brittany."
Santana sputtered angrily for a few minutes, cheeks flaming red, and then out of nowhere her shoulders slumped in defeat. Leaning back against the side of Will's house, she lowered herself into a sitting position. "Is it that obvious?" She finally asked Puck in a small, scared and very un-Santana like voice.
"No. But I know you well enough to see it, and I can recognize when someone else is struggling with similar troubles," Puck replied, sitting next to her, his anger dissipating as quickly as the cheerleader's sitting next to him had.
"I wasn't using you," Santana began, only to be cut off by Puck waving a dismissive hand.
"Yes you were. But it's cool, I was using too to some degree. That's the way we've always been, San. We use each other for whatever purpose it currently serves."
"Well maybe now that we're both being honest with ourselves and with each other, we can stop using each other," Santana suggested, enjoying this new side of Puck, the one she'd never seen before. The one she doubted anyone had ever seen before except maybe Blaine. Who would have ever guessed that Noah Puckerman had a sensitive, caring side? "So in the spirit of honesty…how the hell did this happen? I mean, me and Brit, that's pretty much always been there to some degree. But you…and Blaine? What's that all about? Have you even thought this through? Does Blaine really need another complication in his life right now?"
Puck looked annoyed and his knee jerk response was to get defensive, but one look at Santana's face and he knew she wasn't trying to blame him. She was merely curious and concerned for a boy they were all just getting to know and care for.
"I…don't know. I know that sounds like a cop out, but it's not, I really don' know. I look at Blaine and I just see this guy who just needs someone to love him. And somehow, I became the one who loves him."
"Did Noah Puckerman just admit he was in love? I think that's even more surprising than you being gay," Santana kidded.
"I'm not-" Puck stopped mid-protest. He was in love with another guy. It would be tough to pedal the 'I'm not gay' speech to someone he just admitted that to. "I don't know what I am. Other than completely head over heels in love with-"
Santana had a sudden coughing fit, and Puck stopped talking turning to glare at her and seeing Blaine making his way out the door behind Sebastian.
"To be continued," Santana said with a pointed look to Puck, since she was still itching for all the details. Jumping up to her feet and clapping her hands, once again acting very un-Santana like she brightly suggested, "Why don't I drive Sebastian home. Puck you can come with to pick up your car."
Both boys nodded and Puck turned to Blaine, "Wanna go for a ride?"
Blaine hesitated, frowning, since going anywhere was a hassle, but he was dying to get away from the house for a bit, clear his mind. "I don't know if Will would be okay with that," He finally responded.
"Oh, please," Santana rolled her eyes, looking once again like the girl they knew. "Schue!" She yelled in the open door, waiting until she heard his distant response before continuing. "I'm driving Sebastian home and Puck to get his car and Blaine is coming with us!" She hollered back at her teacher.
A few seconds later Will appeared in the kitchen rubbing his temples. "I guess, Blaine you feel up to it?" Blaine nodded eagerly. Will still looked unsure but he wanted the house to himself for a bit almost as badly as Blaine wanted to leave the house. "All right," He conceded. "Noah, do you have your phone?"
"Yup," Puck said, glad he'd grabbed it after the police had arrived.
Will nodded. "If you stop anywhere else, text me or call me and let me know," The parenting thing was coming quite naturally to him now.
The four teenagers headed towards Santana's car and Puck said in a staged whisper to Blaine, "It's gonna be such a mood killer to have to call Will before we hop the plane to Amsterdam."
Will shook his head and headed back in the house. Santana got in the front seat, pulling it up as far as she could and sill drive so Puck could fit behind her. Sebastian pulled the passenger seat up as far as it went, sitting in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, so that Blaine could have room for his cast.
Puck frowned." I have a better idea." He sat behind the driver's seat, pulling his door shut and leaning back against it, laying his right leg across the back seat, motioning to Blaine to sit with him. Blaine glanced uneasily towards Santana and Sebastian, and Puck laughed. "Like they don't both know. C'mon." Blaine still looked insecure, but he laid his crutches across the floorboards and settled in between Puck's legs, leaning back into the other boy's chest and feeling arms immediately encircle him, pulling him tight.
"That works," Sebastian shrugged, pushing his seat back more and sighing in relief. Santana readjusted her seat as well, started the car, and backed out of the driveway.
The drive to Sebastian's was quiet, the silence broken only by Sebastian's occasional directions. Puck held Blaine tightly in his arms, and Blaine was nodding off in them, the Xanax making his eyelids heavy.
He was in that weird place, between sleep and wake, when Santana's voice pulled him completely back to the waking world.
"Holy shit you Dalton boys sure are fuckin' loaded."
Sebastian laughed in response as he got out of the car. "Thanks, Santana."
"No problem," She turned around. "Need any help?" She asked a half awake Blaine.
Blaine shook his head no, of course. He could be drowning in the ocean and if you asked him if he needed a hand he'd tell you no. Sebastian was already opening his door, though, and pulling his crutches out, before reaching back in and offering a hand. It took a few minutes but eventually Blaine was leaning on his crutches in Sebastian's driveway as the three boys all waved thank you and bye o Santana's tail lights.
"All right, unless you want to listen to my mother fret over you and offer to make you dinner eighteen times, you two had better get going before she makes it out here."
Blaine laughed, knowing Sebastian wasn't exaggerating. "Tell Lee and Donna I said hello. And I'll call you tomorrow or something and let you know, all right?"
"Sounds good. Later, See ya Puck. Thanks again."
"Anytime," Puck called over his shoulder, already helping Blaine into his car.
It seemed to take forever, but finally they made it in the car and were pulling out of Sebastian's driveway.
"Okay, I guess the guy isn't that bad after all," Puck admitted to Blaine as he scanned his iPod trying to decide on a band.
Blaine grinned and shook his head, then held his hand out for the iPod, which Puck grudgingly handed over. After searching for a minute, Blaine chose a song, and before the song started he told Puck, "I always wanted to sing this to my dad, see if he'd get why it reminds me of him."
A simple song began and Puck listened to the words, recognizing the band as The White Stripes.
I guess you have to have a problem
If you want to invent a contraption
First you cause a train wreck
Then you put me in traction
Well first came an action
And then a reaction
But you can't switch around
For your own satisfaction
Well you burnt my house down
Then got mad at my reaction
Well in every complicated situation
There's a human relation
Making sense of it all
Takes a whole lot of concentration
Well you can blame the baby
For her pregnant ma
And if there's one of these unavoidable laws
It's that you just can't just take the effect and make it the cause
No
Well you can't take the effect
And make it the cause
I didn't rob a bank
Because you made up the law
Blame me for robbing Peter
But don't you blame Paul
Can't take the effect
And make it the cause
I ain't the reason that you gave me
No reason to return your call
You built a house of cards
And got shocked when you saw them fall
Well I ain't saying I'm innocent
In fact the reverse
But if you're heading to the grave
You Don't blame the hearse
You're like a little girl yelling at her brother
Cause you lost his ball
You keep blaming me for what you did
But that ain't all
The way you clean up the wreck
Is enough to give one pause
You seem to forget just how this song started
I'm reacting to you
because you left me broken hearted
See you just can't just take the effect and make it the cause
Well you can't take the effect
And make it the cause
I didn't rob a bank
Because you made up the law
Blame me for robbing peter
But don't you blame Paul
Can't take the effect
And make it the cause
Puck started to ask Blaine a question when the song ended, but Blaine yelled, "Watch out!"
He sounded so scared that Puck slammed on the brakes, not even positive what he was watching out for. "What the?" He asked, not seeing anything, glad no one had been behind him for they certainly would have smashed his trunk up to the front seat. "Hey! Blaine! What the hell are you doing?" Blaine was obviously unconcerned with the fact that he could barely get in and out of the car or the fact that they were in the middle of the street, seeing as he had thrown open his door and hobbled out. He limped in front of the car, as Puck watched, confused.
Puck got out after a few seconds, when Blaine bent down and didn't reappear.
He joined Blaine in front of the car to find Blaine crouched down rather awkwardly with his cast, cradling an object in his good arm, and speaking to said object.
"Oh my god, are you kidding me? You made me slam on my brakes and almost wreck for that?" Puck asked exasperated.
Blaine glared at Puck. "Yes."
In his arms he held a tiny, scraggly kitten. It was young, most likely barely over two months, and it looked like it had already had quite a rough life. It's fur, which was matted and dirty, was grey with black stripes, and it was possibly the most pitiful looking kitten Puck had ever seen. The thing was skinny as a rail, malnourished, flea-ridden and it kept attempting to mew but was either still too young or too dehydrated or both, because no sound came out at all.
"Awww. Poor little guy," Blaine murmured, cooing at the creature.
"Can we at least get out of the street?" Puck sighed. He had a sinking feeling Blaine had no intentions of letting this kitten go.
Puck helped Blaine back into the car, and rushed over to the driver's side as a pair of headlights swept into view behind them, lighting up the car from the back.
Puck put the car into gear and pressed the gas, just as Blaine exclaimed, "No way! Check it out!"
Glancing over, Puck immediately knew what had Blaine so excited. The headlights behind them had cast a shadow of the kitten, which sat facing forward, onto the dashboard. The shadow was only of the kittens head lit up from behind, and it was an exact replica of the shadow that Batman's cowl made when lit from behind.
"Oh no," Puck groaned. "Blaine don't you dare. Don't you do it, don't name that thing, if you name it we'll never get rid of-"
"Batman!" Blaine held the kitten up to his face, grinned at it, then hugged it to his chest.
"Fuck."