"No, Finn!"
"But mom lets me steal food when she's waiting for other stuff to finish!"
"No, Finn!"
Finn shrugged, leaned over Kurt easily (after all, he was a giant), and got out a spoonful of macaroni and cheese.
"Go. Away. Finn!" Kurt halfheartedly pushed at him, but both boys knew this would get him nowhere. At least, not until Kurt grew several more inches. He had a feeling, though, that he was very near done growing.
"Dude, I totally thought your boyfriend was cool until I went upstairs to put my crap up."
"I'm not talking to you." Kurt said haughtily, moving to elbow him. Finn could be very insufferable, especially when one was making dinner. It was one of the many reasons he had stopped making dinner almost every night. He would still help Carole, of course, but he was not a patient person when it came to Finn leaning over him every two minutes and stealing food. Patience was required around an oven.
"Did you know he likes Katy Perry?" Finn snorted, reaching over and getting another spoonful of macaroni and cheese.
"Gross! That was in your mouth! And—oh my God, Finn! You smell like smoke!" his voice rose and he spun to look at Finn, spoon raised.
"Puck smokes now. He was in my room earlier." Finn said in a rather smooth voice, but the initial look on his face gave it away. He saw Kurt's disbelieving face and backed away. "Don't tell mom! She'll go all psycho on me again! No, really, Kurt, please! The last time she went ballistic on me was over mismatched socks. I don't even want to think of how bad it would be if she knew-." He looked around carefully to make sure his mother hadn't slipped into the room and added in a whisper, "I smoked. I don't know what kind of baby she's having but it's making her crazy and, dude, I've got a feeling an alien invasion is involved."
"Have you ever heard of Emphysema? Lung cancer? Heart disease? Do you know how something like that can affect your football games, Finn? If you get Rachel knocked up, and get heart disease, and die, then your offspring will be… oh God, I don't even want to think about the child you two would produce." Kurt shuddered.
"Trust me, dude, no chance of that happening. She'll barely let my hand up –."
"Gay boy, Finn. Gay boy. If I wanted to hear about straight sex, I'd be straight." Kurt put his hands over his ears and began singing, "Lalalala!"
"Uh oh, someone's talking about sex." Blaine sang, walking into a room.
"Or lack thereof." Finn muttered. "Fine, Kurt." When Kurt lowered his hands, he continued. "But, seriously, dude, what is a guy supposed to do? At this point I'd settle for—."
"Don't cry for me Argentinaaaa, the truth is I never left youuuuuu!" Kurt put his hands over his ears and began singing loudly again.
"No, really, Blaine, you're cool—."
"And totally and 100% gay. Now if you want to know how to get random guy's phone number without even seemingly trying, come talk to me." Blaine said quickly, but flashed him a charming smile.
"Get a lot of guy's phone numbers, do you, Blaine?" Burt chuckled walking into the house through the back door that was in the kitchen. He took his oily hat off and, with one look at Kurt, blinked between the two remaining boys. "Oh no, you're all talking about sex. He's doing that thing again. Hey, kid, you better not burn dinner. I'm hungry."
"I kept my promiiiiise, don't keep your distaaaance." Kurt sang.
"Whatever. If you have to cook anything again, I'm going to KFC." Burt ruffled Kurt's hair and left the room.
"Katy Perry, dude? Really?" Finn asked, looking at Blaine. His voice dropped when Kurt stopped his singing. "You just lost, like, so many cool points."
"I love Katy Perry!" Blaine gasped. "How can anyone not love Katy Perry?"
"Kurt doesn't like Katy Perry." Kurt muttered, stirring the mashed potatoes.
"No, but you tolerate her and I'm thankful." Blaine walked to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "This smells wonderful."
"Thank you. Now please tell Finn why he should quit smoking, Blaine. He is seeing no reason." Kurt turned and quickly kissed him before turning his attention back to the food.
"Ah, you're making mashed potatoes! Awesome!" Blaine grinned. "Ugh, peas."
"Dad likes them, for whatever reason. Now, please, talk to Finn. He thinks you're cool, maybe he'll listen to you."
"He already knows, dude." Finn put his hands in his jeans pocket.
"What?" Kurt set down the spoon and spun to look at Blaine.
"Actually," Blaine said, reaching over him to turn one of the burners off. "I forgot."
"How do you forget someone is killing themselves?" the youngest boy asked impatiently. Blaine pursed his lips together and did not answer. Kurt knew that meant it had something to do with his attack, so he didn't pursue the matter. Instead, he added, "Well can you talk to him? Otherwise I'll have to tell Carole and none of us want to set her off again after last night's window incident."
"Window incident?" Finn asked.
"I left my car window cracked a bit on accident and it rained." Blaine shrugged. "Apparently it was very irresponsible and I was failing to take care of my things. I still can't believe she got onto me. I felt seven again. Burt tried to tell her it was my car and I could do as I pleased but—."
"But it's a good thing that Dad doesn't have a hand print across his face still, otherwise work would have been rather interesting." Kurt chirped and then gently pushed Blaine. "I've got to get the chicken out of the oven, scoot over for me."
"Yes, sir." Blaine moved out of his boyfriend's way, trying very hard to not pay attention to the way his pants clung to his butt as he leaned over to get the chicken out.
Finn sat on the counter just as Carole came in. Her eyes narrowed. "Finn Hudson! Why are you sitting on our counter?"
"Oh god, not again." Finn moaned as he hopped down. "Please, mom, don't go all crazy on me. Go crazy on Kurt! Look, his shoe lace is undone. Isn't that super dangerous? That's super dangerous, man."
"Don't you try to pin this off on Kurt! Do you know how much that counter costs? We're still paying for it!"
"Sorry, mom." Finn put his hands in his pants pockets and looked at her sheepishly.
Carole sent him a nasty look and then went to Kurt. "Thank you for making dinner, hon. This looks delicious."
Kurt smiled at her. "I figure I better start cooking again. I have a feeling in June I'll be doing it a lot."
"I can't believe it's already the middle of March." She sighed and ruffled Blaine's hair. "You two are going to be moving out soon."
"Hey, I already moved out!" Finn frowned.
"Yes, but you're classroom building is twenty minutes away, Finn, and you always stay at home when you don't have anything football related. Kurt will be two hours away and we won't get to see him. Or Blaine."
"Oh, you'll get to see us." Blaine assured her. "I don't think Burt would let Kurt leave if he wasn't going to make us drive back at least once a week."
"Are you sure you two don't want to go to OSU? It's in Lima and you can live at home, not work, save money…" This had been a question that was becoming more frequently asked over the last few weeks. It had been asked even more since Kurt and Blaine had gone to the Katy Perry concert and had to stay at a hotel overnight—because there was no way Burt wanted them driving back so late. Carole apparently did not like a house without all three of her boys, but when they were all gone, well that was just awful.
"Carole," Kurt spoke in a firm but gentle voice. "We are very sure we do not want to go to OSU. Blaine loves UK. He likes the English program, he's made good friends, and he already has two jobs waiting for him. And I'm studying fashion design. I can't do that at OSU and CCAD is the closest college to home that will allow me enough real practice that I can make it in the future."
Carole sighed. "I don't like that you two will be so far away. You're both tiny little things. What if something happens?"
"I'm an excellent kicker." Blaine gave her an adorable grin.
She rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair again. "You're too adorable for your own good, Blaine. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Hey now, mom, that isn't fair!" Finn frowned even more. "You were being all mean to me a minute ago and then you go over to the little people and start being all nice!"
"Well, Finn," Carole glared. "Maybe if you get your literature grade up, I'll be nice to you too."
"It's just a literature class. Books and essays are stupid anyway." Finn muttered.
Blaine's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "What did you just say?"
"That essays are dumb?"
"Finn, do you know what Blaine is majoring in?" Kurt asked sweetly as he reached into the cabinet—on his tip toes—and grabbed five plates down from the second shelf. This was going to be good.
Finn shrugged. "Musical theater or something? I dunno."
"English, actually. Now you can prepare to hear his monologue on the top 100 reasons why literature is important. You better make yourself comfortable; it's a very long monologue. Just ask Wesley." Kurt positively beamed as he set the five plates down at the table and Blaine launched into his rant.
"Literature is a way of gaining culture and enriching you life, Finn! It's extremely important! It gives you a better sense of imagination, it makes your arguments in life more well spoken, it enriches your knowledge of things around you—like culture a-and politics and human rights and everything! It helps you make connections with the world around you in ways you wouldn't have done otherwise! Literature lets you see things from another person's perspective and promotes open-mindedness—"
As Blaine rambled on, Kurt ticked off the points he was making on his fingers. Finn just kind of stared at him as if he had no idea what the boy was saying. Then again, most people that were not Kurt would have trouble understanding his passionate ramblings. Not even Carole had seen Blaine get into heated discussions before. It was something that Kurt prided himself on, being able to completely understand Blaine in those heated moments. Not to mention, there was something extremely sexy about the way his hands wildly gestured when he got excited.
"And open-mindedness, in our society, stops things like what happened to Kurt from happening to people. Open-mindedness could prevent war, Finn. Literature helps us deal with the things around us. Studying literature makes you a more articulate writer, speaker, and thinker! Without it, there would be no insight or understanding of… of human nature! The more you understand, the more you know! How is that not important?"
"You're telling me a book is going to keep bad things from happening?" Finn said doubtfully.
"Not the book itself, but what the book creates. It's cause and effect!"
"Doesn't he sound so smart?" Kurt said proudly, gently pushing Blaine to the table.
Blaine continued his defensive speech as he was sat down. "You know why I sound smart, Finn? I read. I re-read books. And if I don't know what something means, I look it up. And read an essay about it. See? Literature is important."
Carole sat next to him and patted his shoulder. "See, Finn? You should try harder in your class. Blaine makes a very valid point."
"Sorry." Blaine muttered, suddenly embarrassed at his rant. He busied himself with drinking his water as Kurt put a plate down in front of him. "Thanks."
"Don't apologize, it's cute!" Kurt kissed his cheek. "Isn't he cute?"
"Very cute." Carole nodded and Burt just grunted.
"No, really. What is wrong with you? Do you have that disorder disease?"
Kurt set two more plates down, eyebrow arching, and finally sat down next to Blaine. "Disorder disease?"
"Man, you know, the one where you're different people?"
The doorbell rang and Burt stood, snorting. "I think you mean Multiple Personalities Disorder, kid. I'll get that."
"Yeah, that. Like, does the sporty you have a different name? Which one is Blaine?"
"Finn, he doesn't have multiple personalities. Just because he doesn't fit into your perfect stereotypical box does not mean he—." Kurt began, but was cut off.
"Kurt, I need you out here!"
"Mercedes must be here for that $20 I owe her. I'll be back." Kurt stood and made his way to the kitchen calling back, "Don't harass my boyfriend when I'm gone, Finn!"
He made it to the living room and saw his dad with the two familiar police officers. His palms immediately began to sweat, his heart began to race, and breathing became just a little harder.
"Hi, Kurt." The taller of the two officers greeted him with a nod. "How are you?"
"Uhm… I'm fine." Kurt mumbled, looking anxiously at his dad. He felt a rush of gratitude when his father squeezed his shoulder, standing very close to him. How had he ever been so mean to his dad all those weeks ago? He really had the best father in the world.
"You might want to sit down, Kurt." The other officer said gently.
Kurt took a deep breath and, in a surprisingly steady voice, spoke. "I'm fine. What do you need?"
Burt squeezed his shoulder again.
"It's… about the trial. You won't have to testify, Kurt."
Kurt let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Thank God." Burt sighed as well. "Thank God."
"There's… more. It's about the boy that was attacked right after you, Kurt. He… died last night."
Kurt's stomach knotted up and Burt's hand was suddenly squeezing his shoulder so hard that it was painful. Any relief he felt immediately left his body and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "I need to sit down."
"Carole, please come in here!" Burt called, steering Kurt to the couch. "Alone!"
Carole rushed in. "What on Earth is going on—Kurt? Are you okay?"
"That boy. He died." Burt said gruffly as Kurt stared ahead blankly.
Carole immediately took a seat by Kurt and pulled him close. "Oh, sweetie… hon." She whispered, stroking his hair.
"What does… what does this mean for…" Burt began, but he didn't know how to even finish the statement. He was suddenly very overwhelmed. The very people that had hurt his son had killed someone. What if Kurt was the one that had just died after months on life support?
"Mom, what's going on?" Finn called worriedly from the kitchen.
"Not right now, hon!" Carole called back.
"I want Blaine." Kurt whispered hoarsely. "Can… I'm… I'm going to get Blaine and get some… some water or something. Okay?"
Carole looked hesitantly at the police officer, but the man nodded, so she nodded also. "Go on, sweetheart."
Kurt stood and, legs feeling like jelly, made his way to the kitchen. He just needed a hug and he'd be fine. He just wanted Blaine next to him, arms around him, and he'd feel safe. He didn't have to make a long trip because Finn and Blaine were both already in the doorway.
"Kurt, what's going on? Kurt?" Blaine asked, face a little pale.
"Can you get me some water, Finn?" Kurt mumbled, and then threw himself at Blaine.
"Kurt, babe… what's wrong?" Blaine's voice was full of concern as he hugged his boyfriend.
Kurt didn't know how to even speak at that moment. He kept thinking back on every moment he'd had with Blaine since his attack, everything that had made them stronger, and how lucky he suddenly was to have even had them. He clung to Blaine, shaking slightly but not yet crying. He breathed in his boyfriend's scent—chocolate, of course—and clung to him even tighter, muttering, "Chocolate has never smelled so good."
Finn shared a worried look with Blaine as Kurt then couldn't fight off the tears and began to cry, gasping out and mumbling all sorts of words that neither boy could understand.
"Kurt, Kurt… Kurt, calm down and talk to me." Blaine whispered, rocking him. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
Kurt just pulled away from the hug and wiped his eyes, very quickly regaining his composure. It made Blaine uneasy. Kurt took his water, and, grabbing Blaine's hand with his free one, pulled him into the living room without a word. Finn followed, looking more confused than usual. Carole opened her arms and Kurt took his previous seat, allowing himself to be pulled into them. It was okay. Everything was okay. He was in his house, with his family, and in-between his stepmother and boyfriend. He was just fine. He kept telling himself that, and it made him feel a little better. He was okay. He was okay.
"The three have pleaded out on a lesser charge of voluntary manslaughter charges. They'll spend 2 to 20 years in prison." One of the police officers was saying as Carole's arms went around him.
"Wait, you're telling me that before the boy died they faced a longer jail time than after the boy died?" Burt said loudly.
Blaine let out a quiet gasp, looking at Kurt. His hazel eyes were wide and his mouth fell open. Then he put his hand on Kurt's leg and gave it a tight squeeze, staring ahead. Kurt had the feeling he was thinking the same thing as he had been before that hug. What if it had been Kurt that died, and they hadn't been able to grow closer? What kind of life would that have been for Blaine?
"That… that is what it… may come down to." The man said slowly.
"They murdered a boy." Burt said slowly. "Why would any judge let a deal like this pass through? That is not right."
"I understand your feelings on the matter but you aren't seeing the bigger picture. Of course, your son's and the other cases will be taken into account too… but…"
"But usually if it's against gay kids they don't care? That's what you're telling me? They just want to give them the lowest charge possible because the kids deserved it? Well, my son didn't deserve this!" the man pointed at Kurt. "Does he look like someone that deserved to almost die for walking to his damn car?"
"That is not what I am saying at all." The officer spoke very calmly. "I'm just saying, the murder will be the case that is looked at most heavily."
"This is messed up. You're telling me that the men who did this could be out of prison in two years?"
"With the additional charges that will be added on, it will be longer than that. Without a doubt." The other officer cut in. "Those extra felony charges will still be carried out."
"Yeah, and what's the minimum time limit on those?"
"Fifteen months each."
"Unbelievable." Burt began pacing, fists clenching. "So what you're telling me is that they could go to jail for two years for the murder, and 5 years for the assaults on Kurt and the other 3? That's seven years. That's not good enough. Because then you factor in getting out early for good behavior and—."
"Burt, please." Carole said in a hush voice, rocking Kurt who was eerily silent.
"No, Carole! That is not good enough for what they did! He could have died if that girl hadn't found him! That boy could have been my son!"
Carole stood with a sigh. Kurt leaned towards Blaine, needing him, as Carole dragged his father from the room. There were hushed angry whispers coming from the kitchen. The fact that his father wasn't in the room made him feel a little nervous, but Blaine's hand going up and down his back slowly eased his anxiety. Blaine's heart was pounding and that made Kurt feel guilty on top of anxious. He didn't want Blaine stressed out, didn't want him upset over something concerning him again.
Finn sat down on Kurt's other side in his mother's place and patted his younger brother's shoulder, staring ahead. Eventually their parents came back into the room, but Burt looked no less angry. Despite this, Kurt almost instantly felt more at ease with him in the room.
"So you're telling me that they could go to jail for 7 years?"
"As few as 7, but as long as 80." The officer said calmly.
"Realistically?" Burt urged.
"In two cases, the kids didn't even have to go to the hospital. Kurt's case will get a hefty amount, I'd say, as well as the boy who died. The other kid only suffered a broken arm and a doctor visit or two. Realistically… no more than 12."
Blaine began rocking Kurt, because his fists were clenched and he found himself unable to continue rubbing the smaller boy's back. Kurt made a small noise of protest, but still did not speak.
"Then what is the point of going through with a trial? If the punishment doesn't suit the crime, then why bother?" Blaine asked quietly, but bitterness was etched in his voice. "That's tons of money you're pouring into a case. Realistically, they've never done anything before the attacks. So they'll get out early. Or they'll get probation. No harm, no foul, right? Or they'll find some way to write off the other cases. Kurt just walked into that pole or the knee that sent his rib through his lung. That girl was provoking them when they jumped her. The kid with the broken arm had their arm at a weird angle and they accidentally walked into it. The other kids don't matter, because they didn't end up in a hospital. Why put these families through this for nothing? They throw out the other charges, make the jerks serve two years for murdering an innocent 15 year old, and they get to go about their day to day lives in two years. What's the point?"
No one spoke for several minutes after that, but Kurt sat up straight and took a deep breath. "This is stupid. This is so stupid."
"What do we do now, officer?" Carole asked, reaching out to stroke Kurt's hair.
"Charges will be filed separately, but any sentencing will be on top of each other." The shorter officer said. "You'll need to file more charges in order to get Kurt's medical expenses covered and for pain and suffering, if you choose to."
"Oh, we choose to. Don't you worry about that." Burt growled. "Is that it?"
"Because they've pleaded out, no one will be testifying, but they will face a judge for sentencing on all 5 counts. It's… it's open to the public. It will be on June 7th."
June 7th, the day they were set to move down to Cincinnati because Blaine's classes started up on the 12th. Of course the attack that happened last October would put a damper on something else. It seemed to always come back and haunt him.
"Fine. Thank you very much." Burt said angrily, holding the door open for them. He closed it much harder than necessary and then stormed off. Carole continued running her fingers through Kurt's hair as she kissed his cheek and murmured. Blaine's arms were tight around him, and every so often he would pat this boy's lower back. Finn just stared ahead, jaw clenched and staring out the window as the policemen drove off.
"Oh, Kurt, come here!" Carole finally exclaimed, tears filling her eyes. Kurt stood and allowed her to pull him into a tight hug, her baby belly only slightly in the way. "I'm so glad you're okay, hon. I'm so glad. And you're handling this so maturely, sweetie. Oh, thank God you're alright."
Kurt wanted to say that he didn't feel like he was handling it maturely. Because now he was wishing that his dad would come back. He slowly returned the hug, careful not to press too hard against her belly, and sighed softly.
"You really are. You're doing wonderfully." She whispered, rubbing his back. "How do you feel?"
"I'm… I'm… It just doesn't seem fair." He finally said softly, eyes raising to look at Blaine. Blaine looked right back at him, offering a weak and incredibly forced smile. He vaguely remembered that expression from last year, when he had been in the hospital. He hated that fake smile. He would have rather Blaine just stared at him blankly, to be honest.
"It's over now, though. You don't have to do anything else, Kurt. You don't have to testify." She whispered back to him, rocking them both. "It's all over now."
Kurt stared at Blaine, chewing the inside of his cheek.
It's over now.
But was it really? Kurt didn't feel this intense sense of closure. There was no relief that he didn't have to testify. Maybe a part of him, a small part of him, wanted to look the man who almost killed him in the eye. And stand up straight so the man could see that he'd broken him, yes, but that he was still very much intact. Maybe he wanted to look the man in the eye as he told the judge what the man had done to him.
As much as Kurt dreaded it, and had thought that he wanted to hear that he didn't have to testify… maybe he had wanted to. At any rate, he definitely didn't want the news to come like this. He would have rather that boy be alive and testify than the boy die and he not have to testify. It was hard to believe that the boy had died. Kurt had been hoping that one day the boy would just wake up and get the second chance at life that Kurt had gotten… It wasn't fair that one boy got a second chance, a young adult, but a teenage boy had to die. He had lived more, seen more… it just didn't seem fair.
"Oh, Kurt." Carole began to cry into his shoulder. He could feel her shoulder's shaking. "You poor, beautiful, sweet boy. I f-feel awful saying this but I'm so glad it w-wasn't you!"
"I'm fine." Kurt whispered, hugging her back. "I am. I'm fine." The more he said it the better he felt. Saying that was a little empowering. Then he remembered hearing that they could be out in as little as two years and that confidence flew right out the window.
They stood there for several minutes in their embrace before Carole finally pulled away. She touched his cheek and sniffled, eyes puffy. "Kurt, if you need to talk, you know I'm here, hon. And your father, Finn, and Blaine."
"I know." Kurt nodded. "I promise. I'll talk."
She squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "Okay. Okay. Now everyone needs to eat. We'll warm up the food in the microwave. I'll go get your father."
Kurt nodded and took in a deep breath as Carole left the room. Blaine flew at him, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Kurt's shoulder.
"Oh my God, oh my God." He whispered over and over, squeezing the shorter boy. "I love you so much, Kurt. Please don't ever forget that."
"I won't." Kurt promised, hugging him back equally as tightly.
…
"Blaine?" Kurt came into their bedroom later that night after getting out of the shower and moisturizing his face. He had taken much longer than necessary while doing so because he kept thinking about the trial and how uneasy he was about the whole thing. At the same time though, he was puzzled by his reaction. A little over a month ago when he found out that his attackers had been caught, he had really had a mini breakdown. He had sobbed, he had held onto Blaine for what was probably hours, he had been inconsolable, and he had counted on Blaine to tell him what he should do.
This time, though, was a little different. Kurt had only cried once and he was starting to think that was more than the shock of the news that him being scared. After he had been consoled, he was okay. As okay as he could be, given the circumstances. He had a feeling he'd feel even better if everyone around him wasn't acting like the world had ended. Yes, this time was much different. Instead, he had several questions, each one more complicated than the one before it, and he felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. But he wasn't begging his boyfriend to tell him what to do. He was thinking about it on his own, calmly, and in the privacy of his bathroom. Was that a little unnerving? Yes, because for months he had ran to Blaine with even the smallest problem. This time around, he felt like he needed to make the decision on his own. He just wanted reassurance, but he wanted to try to handle it as grown up as possible. After all, wasn't the point of his father's big talk that he needed to grow up? Well, he respected that and he was trying. Because he did need to grow up.
Once he got into the room he saw that the light was still on,—it was really only around nine anyway— but Blaine was in bed with his laptop and staring at the screen blankly. There was no way he was trying to think of what to type, the expression was too intent for that. It made Kurt feel bad to see him so emotionless, because he knew that meant Blaine was probably really upset. Upset or angry. He was still working on figuring out what those faces meant. "I thought you were writing a paper."
"I can't concentrate." Blaine shut his laptop and let out a frustrated sigh. He shook his head, his expression changing from blank to anger. There was no mistaking that look. The past three hours had been like that for everyone in the household, though. One minute they'd look fine, the next minute they'd look upset or angry. The mood swings had been drastic—especially for Finn who would be laughing at cartoons one minute and angrily kicking his shoes or backpack around the next, eyes narrowed. Well, almost everyone. His father was the only one to not experience these mood swings because he maintained one emotion throughout the entire evening and it would probably carry into the next day as well.
Burt was the only one who maintained a steady emotion—and that emotion was pissed. The only time his expression softened was for a few brief minutes when, while they were watching the news story covering the boy's death, Kurt leaned over and rested his head on his father's shoulder. Burt wrapped his arm around his son, pulling him closer, and pressed a quick kiss to the top of the boy's head. After that, he kept his chin rested on the top of Kurt's head but he maintained his stony glare at the television screen until finally he went to go check on Carole who had had a little too much stress for the day and had, understandably, retired to bed. The fact that her morning sickness was turning into morning, noon, and night sickness did not help either.
"I'm so pissed off…" Blaine continued shaking his head. "So pissed off."
"Blaine?" he asked again quietly, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to him. He was hesitant to approach him because he knew how Blaine could get when he was angry, but at the same time he felt like it would be better to distract his boyfriend before he got even angrier. Besides, he really wanted to discuss his feelings with the boy. It wasn't that he wanted input on what he should do or anything. He just wanted to be able to talk. If Blaine offered feedback, great. If not, that was fine because he wasn't looking for it.
"Yeah?" Blaine looked at him, hazel eyes meeting blue.
Kurt pursed his lips together and looked down, suddenly unsure he wanted to actually say what was on his mind. He wasn't sure how Blaine would react and he wasn't sure if it was what he truly felt either. But then he decided screw it and held his head high. He was going to be grown up about this. At least, he was really going to try. "Blaine… do you think… that I should go?"
"Go where?"
"The trial. Sentencing. That thing. Do you think I should go?" he repeated. His voice did waver slightly, but at least he had asked the question that would lead into the discussion. It was much better than keeping it in and beating himself up for it later.
"Of course not. You didn't want to testify to begin with. Why would you?"
Kurt leaned back against the headboard and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. "Because I…. think that I want to."
Blaine's response was instant and sharp. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Kurt."
Kurt felt himself get a little annoyed at how fast Blaine rejected the idea. After all, it was concerning him and not Blaine. He made a face at Blaine, which made the older boy look slightly guilty, and then he asked the question that was really on his mind. "How am I supposed to feel right now? Am I supposed to be happy that this kid is dead and I don't have to testify? Relieved? Am I supposed to cry for him, even though I didn't know him? Am I supposed to just say, 'Okay, well that's done, next step graduation'? Am I supposed to be okay with the fact that they may only be in jail for two years? Am I supposed to be mad off and on like you and Finn or mad all the time like Dad? Am I just in shock?" he took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do, Blaine. I… I don't know what to do or what to think or how to feel."
Blaine reached over and took his hand, his expression softening. "I don't know what to think either…"
Kurt struggled to find the words, but he felt better with Blaine holding his hand so tightly. He felt safe almost. He tried to explain what he was feeling, but he wasn't even sure of what exactly he was feeling himself. "I don't feel closure… I feel like… " He squeezed Blaine's hand and looked at the door. "I don't know what I feel, but… but part of me wants to see them. Even if they may only be in jail for two years… I just want to… to see them. Blaine, I just don't know. I don't know. Why don't I know?"
Blaine scooted closer and wrapped an arm around him. "I don't know, my love." He whispered. "But if… if you really want to see them when they're given their sentence… then you should. Even if I don't think it's the best idea. I'm afraid your nightmares will come back. You've said yourself several times that you didn't want a faces to go with the attack, Kurt. I don't think you should just write that off."
Kurt spoke very slowly and in a calm voice. "They almost killed me… I had to have surgery twice because of them. I missed out an almost half of my senior year of high school. Sometimes I still feel these sharp pains in my chest if I sit up too quickly. They did this to me. They did all of that to me. And… and I want to stand up to them and show them—and myself— that they can't take anything else from me… They took enough, Blaine, and I want to see them pay for what they did. Even if it's just a two year sentence, I want to… I want to see it happen. And I want them to see that… that I'm not broken anymore."
His boyfriend bit his lip and sighed softly, looking away. "Look, I know you've got the right intentions… but, baby… you jumped across half a room when you just heard the man speak. I don't want you to push yourself into anything before you're ready, Kurt, because that is worse than not doing the thing in the first place."
"You're supposed to understand." Kurt pulled his hand back and got out of the bed. "You are supposed to be the one person to understand, to get me, to get it."
"I do understand, Kurt. I just don't want you to get hurt again… there are only so many times I can pick up the pieces and put them back together again right. I don't want to test those limits. I don't want you to drive yourself crazy with pictures of the guys in your head. I wouldn't want to know what they looked like if it were me."
"Well I'm my own person." This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Blaine was supposed to wrap his arms around Kurt and tell him that he should go see his attackers. That it was a good idea and that he fully supported it. Why wasn't Blaine doing that like he was supposed to?
"Don't get defensive or upset, babe." Blaine crawled to the edge of the bed, grabbing both of Kurt's hands. "Do whatever you want. Of course if you want to go, you should go. But I'm telling you my opinion because I care about you… so please don't get upset. If you want to go, I'll be right there next to you. When have I ever not stood right next to you? Tell me when." He let one of Kurt's hands fall and cupped his face, giving him a small smile. "You know I'll be right there by you."
Kurt sighed and sat on the bed. He put his hand on his face and just shook his head in a defeated way. "I'm not upset with you… I'm upset because I've already thought of everything you said and that is what scares me and makes me think I shouldn't go…" He turned and looked at his boyfriend, squeezing his hand. "I wish I knew what the right thing to do here is…"
Blaine leaned against him, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and still gripping his hand. "I don't think there is a right and wrong thing to do… If you want to go, you should go. If you don't want to go, then you really shouldn't go. But neither choice will be the wrong one unless it's not what you want."
"What if I don't know what that is?" Kurt whispered, leaning into him as well.
"It's March. The sentencing is in June. You've got a lot of time to figure it out, my love… and you may change your mind a few times too, but that's okay. You'll know the morning of the sentencing what the right decision is." Blaine scooted into a laying position, pulling Kurt gently with him. "I can't believe that kid died, Kurt… I just… keep thinking about how you looked when I first saw you and—." He trailed off, but Kurt heard him sigh heavily. "I hope they rot in hell for what they did, Kurt. I really hope they do."
"It… doesn't seem fair that he died and not me." Kurt whispered, curling up and resting his head on Blaine's chest. "He was so young…"
There was a loud growl and then Kreacher hopped onto the bed. He wriggled himself in-between the boys (which took some serious skill considering they were pressed together) and made himself comfortable.
"Ugh, that dog." Blaine moaned. "He's driving me crazy, Kurt. He chewed up my phone charger again."
"I told you to keep it on the desk." Kurt responded, sitting up and pulling Kreacher onto his lap. Kreacher began licking his face and yipping excitedly, tail wagging. "I missed you too! Even if Daddy didn't! I missed you too! Say, Blaine, I'm really sorry I ate your charger but I loooove you. See, Blaine? He's sorry." He lifted the dog, who barked loudly and tried to run in the air.
Blaine just rolled his eyes, but he smiled a bit. "The dog is a nuisance."
"So is your snoring, but I don't make you sleep in a cage. Isn't that right, Kreacher? Isn't that right?" The younger boy snuggled his dog. He knew it was silly, but the puppy really did make any situation better. Kurt didn't care how many belongings Kreacher destroyed, because his puppy had completely won over his heart.
"I have no one to blame but myself and that's the sad thing." Blaine sighed, finally reaching to pet the dog. "He is getting so fat, Kurt. We've got to stop feeding him so much."
"He likes his treats." Kurt cooed, rocking Kreacher as if he was a child. The dog surprisingly went very still, just panted happily. "Good puppy."
Blaine rolled his eyes again. "I liked it better when he was hiding under the bed."
Kreacher growled, tilting his head to look at Blaine and then he returned his attention to Kurt who was still cooing. "Oh, daddy didn't mean that. Ignore the curly headed mean old man."
"I take back that we're getting a second dog after graduation. We're getting a cat. A mean one."
"Shh." Kurt whispered, shooting him an impatient look. "He's going to go to sleep if you shut up."
"I don't believe you are rocking that insufferable demon animal to sleep." Blaine muttered, but he just pulled the covers up to his chin.
Kurt's eyes met Blaine's as he rocked the dog. He really had no idea how he had ended up with someone as impossibly gorgeous as Blaine Anderson, but if there was any sort of God, Kurt definitely thanked them. It was crazy how Blaine had come into his life, so seemingly random, and yet nothing would ever be the same. Had it been fate that made him drive the two hours to Dalton to spy? Or was it just sheer dumb luck? Whatever it was, Kurt was very thankful for his boyfriend. He couldn't imagine life without him.
He looked down and his puppy was finally asleep. He gently laid him down at the foot of the bed and then curled back up to Blaine. He knew that their talk had been cut short by their incessant dog, but he found that he didn't really want to talk about the trial or the boy's death anymore. He was secretly glad for the excuse to not have to talk anymore, because, for the first time ever, talking something over with Blaine had not made him feel better. He didn't feel worse… but he didn't feel better, and wanted the conversation to end before it did get worse. Maybe tomorrow or the next day they would resume their conversation and hopefully, after a night of sleep, it would have a different outcome. But for the moment all he wanted to do was curl up to Blaine and just forget everything. And that was what he did.