The past three days, a lot had been going on. Kurt still had half of his room to pack, but he couldn't even seem to move enough to get out of bed. Blaine occasionally came in to check on him. He never lingered too long and usually he didn't even speak, just rested his hand on Kurt's leg and squeezed. Or squeezed his hand so tightly it was almost painful. And then he'd get up and leave, but that was okay because Kurt knew he was busy. They would be moving in two days. There was stuff to be done. People to call about having the electric and water turned on, people to call about having the television and internet set up. Packing the dinner table and chairs they were taking, and also, of course, his mother's dresser. The good thing about blended families was there was stuff in storage. They weren't having everything handed down, but any little bit helped. They were having a new bed delivered directly to their new apartment, as well as a living room set. Then again, they were eighteen and nineteen. They didn't need all new stuff. This was only their first apartment. There would be time to collect their own new things later.
There was so much to be done and yet Kurt just sat down, staring at his empty walls and blinking. He'd changed his mind so many times about going to the stupid trial. It had been keeping him up at night. Did he really want faces in his nightmares? Did he really want to be so close to them in a closed room? Sure, his father and Blaine would be there. What could they really do, though, to protect him from three men that almost ended his life? That did end someone else's life? What if the man just turned around, in front of the judge and all, and attacked him? Then and there?
Like Dad would let that happen, he thought. But that was rational Kurt. Kurt didn't feel very rational lately. In fact he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling anymore, unless you could count feeling stretched as a feeling. Every time he would be happy, sad, mad, relaxed, or anxious the feelings would change or mesh together with other feelings so often that he felt like his body was literally being pulled in several different directions. It was not a pleasant feeling, either.
He looked up as he heard approaching footsteps in the hallway, sighing softly. It would be Blaine, checking on him again. Blaine must have been exhausted from checking on him so much because it was exhausting to Kurt to even think about how many times Blaine had been in and out of the room for no apparent reason at all apart from to offer a hand squeeze.
When the bedroom door opened without a knock, he saw that he had been right. Blaine walked into the room and did not stop until he reached the bed. He sat down on it, close enough to Kurt that he could wrap an arm around his waist. After doing so, he pressed a kiss to Kurt's jaw and let out a tiny sigh. "Dinner is done, honey."
"I'm not hungry. My stomach hurts too much to eat." Kurt whispered, shuffling closer to him. He didn't want Blaine to get up and leave this time. He wanted Blaine to hold him tighter, to kiss him and tell him it was all going to work out no matter what happened. He didn't want it. He needed it.
Blaine pulled Kurt gently onto his lap and kissed the place behind his ear. "You need to at least eat something, Kurt… you've got Carole all worried. Stress isn't good for the baby."
Kurt heaved a huge sigh that made his chest sting just a bit, nuzzling his boyfriend's shoulder. Usually Blaine's arms were his safe place, but he seemed to have worked himself into such a frenzy that even Blaine's hugs didn't help. This was unfortunate, because Blaine's hugs had been the only thing to cheer him up these last few looming days. "Why isn't it helping? Usually when you hold me, it helps."
Blaine tugged him closer, arms wrapping even more tightly around him. "Oh, Kurt… Tomorrow it will all be over, sweetheart. Tomorrow it's over."
"I don't want to go anymore." Kurt mumbled into his shoulder. At this point it was habit to say this around once every hour. Truth be told, though, he didn't know what he really wanted. He just knew he hated this feeling of anxiousness, of being scared and unable to sleep without Blaine quietly singing in his ear. He didn't want to feel like a baby anymore. Blaine kept telling him he wasn't being a baby, but he was. And he really hated the look on Blaine's face when he pulled him close like that, because he was breaking Blaine's heart without even meaning to.
"Yes, you do." The older boy whispered, stroking his messy hair. "Yes, you do, my love."
"I don't want to regret it." Kurt whimpered, pressing closer. They could get no closer, but he tried. "I don't want to wish I hadn't gone."
"That won't happen." Blaine replied soothingly, fingers alternating between stroking his hair and rubbing his back. "But if you don't go, you'll regret it. Remember saying that? We're going. You already told your dad last night that you weren't allowed to change your mind."
"You don't understand." He whimpered. "Blaine, you don't get it."
"When I was beat up… it wasn't near as bad. But I do get it. And you know I regret, even today, not standing up to them." Blaine said softly, leaning back to look him in the eyes. "And you don't want that, Kurt. It's not an easy thing to live with. Running away from it… you'll regret it. And besides, that's not you. I run away from stuff all the time and… it sucks. But you're different. You never run away."
"I ran away from Karofsky." Kurt began chewing on his nails anxiously. It was weird because he never used to be a nail biter. Not until things with Karofsky got bad in the beginning of his junior year. He didn't bite them obsessively, just when he had a lot going on. And right now he had a lot going on.
"Yeah. But you went back."
Blaine sat silently for a few minutes. He'd made his point, his very valid point. It was out there and if Kurt took it, good. Was anyone really going to force him to go tomorrow? Of course not. That wasn't what Kurt needed to hear though. Really, Kurt just needed someone to sit with him while he figured things out for himself. That's how it used to be, before the attack, and now life was about going back to normal. Not this new kind of normal, but normal normal where Kurt didn't want to sit in a faraway booth to avoid stares while eating out with Blaine. They were trying to get back to the normal where Kurt would sit wherever, holding Blaine's hand, and not give a damn who thought what.
Kurt sighed, wanting a break from thinking about it. He needed to do something to keep his mind off of things. "Who can I call? What can I do?"
"Your dad and I already got the table and dresser into his truck." Blaine stroked his cheek, eyes on his. "And there are two chairs in my car and two in yours. Burt said he may go on and take the load up tomorrow after… after the trial, depending on how late it runs. I've called about the electric, gas, water, and the cable people for the internet, the TV, and phone. I think almost everything we're taking with us is packed. I think everything is done. Don't worry. Just relax."
"That's a little impossible right now." Kurt crawled out of bed and began to pace, very much like his father did when he was stressed. "Am I making the right decision?"
Blaine stood and grasped his hand.
"What?"
"Our TV is in your car. We're going downstairs."
"For what?"
Blaine led him downstairs and seated him on the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You'll see. I'll be right back."
"Blaine, what are you doing?" he asked again, not really wanting to be left alone in the room. It was irrational, he knew it, but he couldn't help but be nervous right now.
"I'll be right back, my love. I promise." He kissed his cheek and then went outside the front door, grabbing his car keys.
Kurt began chewing his nails again anxiously as he waited for his boyfriend to return. It seemed to take ages but he eventually did return several minutes later, only he walked back in from inside the kitchen instead of through the front door. He came bearing a bowl of popcorn and a movie tucked between his side and his elbow as he walked.
"It took me a bit to find it, but I managed to get it out of one of the boxes in your trunk."
"What?" Kurt asked blankly, taking the bowl of popcorn from him. Blaine held it up and a small smile lit up Kurt's entire face. "Lady and the Tramp!"
"Your favorite!" Blaine said proudly, standing very tall. "And your favorite Kettle Corn popcorn, even though I think buttered normal popcorn is ten times better. I think we've earned this time being lazy and doing nothing, don't you?"
"Yes." Kurt patted the spot beside him and, when Blaine finally sat down after putting the DVD in, curled right up to him. He rested his head on Blaine's chest and listened to his breathing, feeling more at ease than he had in three days. Blaine kept one arm around him, rubbing his arm, and he occasionally grabbed handfuls of the popcorn he "hated" with his other hand. Kurt had a feeling, though, that Blaine would eat anything that fell under the food classification if it was in front of him long enough. Unless it was celery, of course. It was sort of cute.
"The beginning and end of this movie always makes me want Christmas." His boyfriend said thoughtfully, watching the screen.
"Well you're in for a hell of a wait." Burt grunted walking through.
"Or since we're about to move out on our own, we can set up a tree early." Blaine said.
"No, we can't. And Blaine, I want a new puppy!" he waited several seconds before pointing at the screen and exclaiming, "Blaine! She's crying! I want a new puppy!"
"This is why you never let him watch movies with animals." Burt warned. "I can't tell you how many fits he threw when he was little for a dog after this damn movie."
"Lady is so smart." Kurt said proudly as the adorable puppy on the screen finally broke free from the closed and blocked door. "Like my puppy."
"Kreacher isn't smart." His boyfriend snorted, but Kurt chose to ignore this.
"We can get a lady dog, Blaine, and they can be Lady and the Tramp! Oh my God! Why didn't this occur to me before?"
"One dog is enough for now. Maybe once you train him to stop eating my phone charger… and shoes… and books."
"He's your dog too." Kurt said haughtily. "You can train him too, you know. Since you're the one who can't seem to remember to put your stuff up."
"I've tried to train him. But he whimpers and you just pick him up and rock him like he's a baby." Blaine muttered. "Maybe I should send you away for a week while I train him."
Kurt elbowed him surprisingly hard in his side, glaring. "Or maybe I'll make you sleep on the couch for a week and he can take your spot!"
Blaine just leaned over and kissed his cheek, unfazed. "You wouldn't be able to sleep without me there and you know it. You'd be whining for me in less than two minutes."
Kurt bent his head and nuzzled Blaine, rather affectionately for someone who had just elbowed him almost hard enough to leave a bruise. Kurt was much stronger than he looked.
"You are something else, Kurt." Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt onto his lap. "Do you feel better?"
"I might feel better if we go and get a cocker spaniel puppy tomorrow." He retorted, making himself comfortable. Blaine's fingers slid under his shirt and stroked his stomach gently, eyes on the movie and not even responding to his statement. "It's not nice to ignore people."
Blaine kissed his cheek from behind. "I think we have more than enough responsibility with that thing." He pointed to Kreacher, who had taken that very moment to run into the room and skid to a stop in front of their feet, tilting his head to the side as if waiting for Kurt to pick him up.
"Don't call him a thing." Kurt cooed, reaching down and scooping his puppy up. "I think Blaine is just jealous of my puppy. Don't you, Kreacher?"
"Of course I am. The minute he prances into the room you pay more attention to him than you pay to me in an entire day." The older boy scoffed.
"I pay plenty of attention to you." Kurt re-situated himself next to Blaine. "Aw, look. He likes you."
Kreacher padded to Blaine, turned three times, and finally rested between the boys with his head on Blaine's thigh.
"No. He's pretending. When you leave, he'll start growling at me." Blaine leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder, attention returning to the screen. The boys, and the dog, remained silent for the remainder of the movie.
When Blaine looked down as the credits began to roll, he discovered why. Kurt was fast asleep, his hand on Kreacher's head, his own head lolling to the side, and his mouth slightly open. Kreacher was also asleep, looking sweeter than ever. "Kreacher, move." Kreacher cracked open an eye and growled. "Down. Just for a minute." He lowered his head again. "Fine." Blaine hoisted the dog up, sitting him down on the floor. He then stood, ignoring the dog's loud growls, and moved Kurt into a laying position.
Kurt let out several whimpers.
"Shh, shh. I'm right here." Blaine whispered, lying next to him on the couch. He knew if Kurt didn't fall back asleep straight away, that the boy wouldn't get any sleep until the following night. Otherwise, he'd have taken him up to bed to lie down. No, Kurt needed to stay on the couch.
"Mmhbed?"
"Go back to sleep, my love." He kissed Kurt gently. "I'm right here."
"D-Don't leave me." Kurt shifted, shuffling closer to Blaine.
"Never." Blaine vowed. "Good night."
Kurt let out a soft snore, hand rested flat on Blaine's chest. It was only nine o'clock, dishes hadn't even been done yet from dinner, and Kurt was already asleep.
Blaine didn't move, though. He didn't fall asleep for hours. Because the closer it got to eight in the morning, the harder it became to breathe properly. If he had been Kurt, he never would have gone to face his attackers. Never. Then again, that was the big difference between the two. Blaine could be very inclusive about his sexuality at times. He was out, he was proud, but that didn't mean he liked to put himself out there and in the position to get hurt. Kurt, however, just didn't care. He would walk into the courtroom tomorrow the same way he marched into McKinley's gymnasium to get his tiara a little over a year ago. That really scared Blaine, in some ways. What if he was a little to brave in front of the wrong person a year from now, five years from now? Maybe next time, Kurt would be the one to die…
***WBUCT***
The next morning arrived much quicker than Kurt wanted it to. He felt like he'd barely fallen back asleep, curled up on the couch with Blaine, when Carole had gently shaken him away. He showered, but it wasn't very thorough because his mind was elsewhere and he kept forgetting where he had already washed himself. He was going to style his hair, but his hand was shaking too much to even properly dry it with a blow dryer so he had had to, against his better judgment, let his hair air dry. He had forced down some toast only after Carole had begun to cry that he was going to get sick, and now he was in the parking lot of the courthouse feeling like his heart was about to beat right out of his body.
"I don't care what happens in there. It changes nothing." His father spoke in a firm but gentle voice. "This is about closure and nothing else. You've won, Kurt. I don't care if they only get locked up for three days, kiddo. You won."
"I know, Dad." Kurt sighed, but didn't move to get out of the car.
"And you're going to be fine. Blaine and I are right here."
"I know, Dad."
"Finn would have been, but Carole—."
"Dad, I know. You're making my head hurt." Kurt began chewing on his nails. He was surprised he even had nails left after yesterday, though. Blaine gently took his hands, both of them, and held them in his own. "Let's just go inside, alright?"
"Kurt… fine. Let's go." Burt opened the driver side door and got out.
Kurt opened the door to the back seat after freeing his hands and held it open for Blaine. Blaine instantly scooted right next to him, their sides touching, and grabbed his hand. Kurt was freaking out a little on the inside and was surprised he could even walk, if he was perfectly honest, but Blaine's presence really helped.
Burt made his way on in to the courthouse, but Kurt stopped at the stairs leading up to the entrance and looked at Blaine with huge blue eyes. "Blaine, I c-can't do this. Can we go home?"
"We both know that can't happen." Blaine whispered, heart falling to his stomach. He saw Burt turn and look at him through the glass door, but the man didn't come outside. It was probably better that way, though. Burt would have only got frustrated with Kurt, unlike Blaine.
"Dad can tell me what happens."
"It won't be the same."
Kurt pursed his lips together and began wringing his hands. "No. I can't do this." He stiffened as some people walked up the stairs past them, but they were just lawyers and one police officer so he relaxed. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, which he now really wished he had fixed. "No. No. Let's go back to the car, please. I can't. My stomach hurts."
"I know, I know." Blaine felt a lump in his throat. It was killing him to see Kurt like this, because it reminded him of those first days where Kurt wasn't heavily drugged. Those days had been absolute hell. "But you've got to do this, Kurt. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't, honey."
"You don't know that!" Kurt whispered. "Blaine, you don't know that!"
"Yes. I do. Come on, Kurt. Stop." Blaine grabbed his hand. "Stop."
"I can't do this, I can't do this. Please, Blaine, don't make me. Please. I-I'll sit in the car. Go tell Dad we're not going. O-Or I'll sit in the car alone." His voice kept cracking and he was close to tears. It made Blaine want to cry too. "Please."
Blaine placed his hand underneath Kurt's elbow and guided him up the stairs. Kurt did not protest, surprisingly. Instead he let out several shaky breaths, reaching his other hand across his body to grip Blaine's shirt. Burt held open the door silently as Blaine led him through, whispering soothingly. "You're doing fine, Kurt. This will be over soon and we'll go home and never have to do anything like this again. I promise."
"I don't think I can do this." He said in a quiet voice.
"Kid, if we didn't think you could do this, you wouldn't be here right now." His father said gruffly. "If I thought this wasn't what you needed, I'd have had you moved to Cincinnati the day after your graduation. You've got to move on. This will help you do that."
"What if it doesn't? What if it makes it worse?"
"I guess now is when you decide what kind of man you are then." Burt nudged him forward. "We're both right here. They won't let us in the room for a while, so we're going to have to wait. Why don't you sit down or something?"
"I don't want to sit." Kurt muttered, beginning to walk back and forth—but making damn sure he stayed very close to his father and boyfriend.
He was here. He couldn't leave.
But he really wanted to leave.
He thought it would be easier than this.
Why did he think it would be easier than this?
Then again, did he really? He'd freaked out periodically, but the fact that he'd been freaking out more the closer it got had to say something.
"You're going to make yourself sick going in circles like that." Blaine whispered, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Let's sit down with your dad."
"Can we go back outside? I need some air." Kurt didn't wait for Blaine to respond. He just shrugged free of his boyfriend's grasp and walked out the door, not stopping until he was out at the sidewalk. It was the farthest he could get from the building without being in the street. He wasn't going to try to pull anything stupid, he just wanted as far away from that damn building as possible. For now, at least for now, so he could calm his nerves and remember why he was there. He was there because he was strong, because he knew it needed to be done, because he was better than the people who had put him in the hospital, because he won, and because, finally, it was almost over.
It was almost over. He just had to think about it rationally. How long could standing up in front of a judge, pleading guilty, and being sentenced really take? Burt's lawyer for the garage, although not experienced in this type of case, had said it should be very short because it was a special kind of trial. The men would come in, stand in front of the judge, plead guilty or not guilty (although, if all went according to plan, the men would all three plead guilty to avoid a trial and longer sentencing), they would be sentenced, and they would be led out by police officers. The men would each go separately. First, the man who actually physically injured Kurt and the other boys. He was the one more likely, supposedly, to get a lengthier sentence. Then the other two would follow.
It was almost over. He just had to get through that and he could go home and they could take the first load up to Cincinnati in his father's truck and he could go to the Lima Bean for one last coffee with Blaine before they moved, and they could finish packing and tomorrow they would move out, this would be over, they would live together. And they would be happy with their dog and David would live close by. He would start school in August, get a job, and just live.
Life could start.
After this was over, his life could really start again.
Because he'd been coping.
Honestly, he had.
And sometimes he'd even been genuinely happy.
But his attack and that fear was always there, and it always came about in different ways. The aftermaths of the attack would come to haunt him both physically and emotionally. He'd laugh really hard and feel an abrupt sharp pain in his chest that reminded him of the fact that his lung was still healing, even to this day. Or he'd wake up in the middle of the night coughing and unable to stop until he'd stumbled to the bathroom to get water, or until Blaine woke up to get him some. Lately they just kept a glass next to the bed to avoid stubbed toes, tripping over shoes, and tripping over certain angry animals. Sometimes he would just wake up really weak and not even be able to go to school—it wasn't that he was tired and he couldn't explain it all the time, but he knew it was from his injuries. Occasionally he'd wake up shaking, not remembering his dream but knowing it was of the attack. He'd be at the grocery store or the mall and all of a sudden get really paranoid. This hardly ever happened when he was with Blaine; it was more likely to happen if he were grocery shopping with Carole or just out and about with Rachel and Mercedes. That was probably the worst. The sudden fear that he'd get for seemingly no reason at all.
So, yeah, he had been happy… but he couldn't lie and say he was all better and that he felt no effects of his attack anymore. But after today… they'd be in jail. It really would be over. At least the emotional aspect would be better. This was because even when they got out of jail, he'd be living more than two hours away. Not only this, but who knew how different he would look when the men actually got out of jail? Alright, his appearance wouldn't change that much. But he'd look different all the same. And, depending on how long it was, he might not even be living in Ohio. He had convinced himself that this really was the end, that after this everything would go back to normal.
"Kurt…" Blaine sighed softly, coming to a stop directly in front of him a few minutes later. He looked his boyfriend over, hazel eyes soft and concerned. "Do you want to go home? I'll take you home if you really want to go. And then I'll come back and pick up your dad. If it's really what you want." He touched Kurt's arm and left his fingers there, meeting his eyes.
"No, no, no. Yes. But no. I have to stay." Kurt said firmly, raising his hands into the air a bit. "I want to go home, I really do, but… but I have to stay. And I'm going to."
"You drive me crazy, you know?" Blaine gave him a tiny smile." I can only imagine how crazy you drive yourself though."
"I've gotten used to it by now." Kurt mumbled softly. "It's just… I don't know… how to explain it."
"We've got a little bit before we have to go in." His boyfriend whispered, leading him towards the building so they could sit down outside of it on one of the benches. "You can try."
"I'll try…" He pursed his lips again, staring ahead as they sat on the cold green metal bench. "It's just… I know I want to do it. I know I need to do it and if we could just go in there and do it, then I'd be fine… But this waiting. I-I've been waiting for months." He looked up and took a shuddery breath, feeling himself starting to break down. He wanted to cry. "I've been waiting for m-months and I just… it's worse than waiting for a root canal, Blaine. It's m-making me a w-wreck and I just… My God. I feel like such a baby."
"No, Kurt." Blaine moved his hand up and down his arm in a soothing way, sitting down next to him. "You're not a baby. Not at all."
"This is just so hard." He whispered, his face screwing up. He tried to tell himself not to cry but it was no use. This had been coming all morning. He didn't even know if he was crying because he was upset or if it was just his nerves. There was no stopping the tears, though, once they began to fall. He was honestly surprised that his voice sounded as composed as it did. "I just want my life back. I just want to feel n-n-normal."
Blaine pulled him close so his head was resting on his chest and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, rocking him. "It's almost over… I promise, it's almost over, honey… shh… oh, Kurt… shh. Everything is going to go back to normal soon, my love. I promise. I promise."
Kurt didn't notice all of the people passing them, sending them strange looks, as they walked into the court building. In fact, it took several minutes for him to even look up from Blaine's chest. The second he lifted his head Blaine leaned down, kissing his forehead, his cheek, his other cheek, and finally his lips.
"Are we all better?" he whispered, wiping Kurt's eyes with the underside of his thumb carefully.
Kurt shuddered a bit, taking a deep breath. For a minute he thought he was going to cry again, but instead he nodded, sitting up a little straighter. "Yes. I just… Give me a few more minutes and we can go in. "
"Okay." Blaine nodded, kissing the top of his head. "Just tell me when you're ready and we'll make our way in."
Kurt leaned against Blaine, staring at his boyfriend's watch. Exactly five minutes and twenty-three seconds passed before Kurt took one last deep breath and stood up as straight as he could. Blaine grabbed his hand and stood with him, kissed his cheek, and walked them over to the door.
"I can do this." Kurt whispered, extending his hand, gripping the handle, and pulling the door open. Blaine raised his hand over Kurt's head, holding the door open for the younger boy, and then followed him back through the courthouse and to Burt.
"You okay, kiddo?" Burt asked gruffly, scooting over on the bench and making room for the boys while eyeing his son.
"I'm fine." Kurt answered, holding his head up high.
"Alright, then." His father nodded. "I think after we leave here we should all three go and get some lunch and then take up the kitchen table and dresser tonight. That only leaves the boxes, and I think we can fit all of those between my truck and your boys' cars tomorrow, right?"
Kurt wasn't sure whether his dad was trying to distract him or himself, but he was grateful for the distraction either way. "Yeah. It may be close, but we're going to be back down Friday for dinner anyway, so if we can't take everything we'll be okay until then."
"Everything packed?" Burt looked between the two boys.
"About ninety percent." Blaine shrugged. "It won't take very much time at all to get packed the rest of the way."
"Good." Burt sighed a bit and looked down at his watch. "It's about fifteen until nine. I'm going to go to the bathroom and I'll be right back." He patted Kurt's knee twice and pushed himself up, heading down the hallway.
It happened all at once.
Kurt's breath caught in his throat. It took a few seconds to register, but sirens were going off in his head. The man coming down the hall, he wasn't supposed to come down, was him. The man that had attacked him within an inch of his life. He wasn't supposed to have to see this man until he was a in a room full of police officers and lawyers for the sentencing. When he saw the man he was supposed to be seated between Blaine and his father, very protected. Safe. The man would be facing the opposite way, looking at the judge, and Kurt was not supposed to be seen. The men who attacked him weren't even supposed to be using the main entrance! He'd been promised that he wouldn't have to see the man, or rather, that the man would not have to see him.
Kurt felt his eyes widened as he stared at the man. He knew he hadn't been able to make out the man the night of his attack because it was such a dark area but he just knew that this was the guy that had grabbed him that night and attacked him. He just knew. The man was older and Kurt guessed that he was around his father's age if not a little older. He was a big man, with the build of someone who would be a security guard or a police officer, and he was bald. He looked completely average though. The man smiled and he looked like anyone you might run into in the grocery store. He looked normal.
Blaine's hand rested on his lower back and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
"Blaine." Kurt whimpered, fingers curling around the fabric of Blaine's t-shirt.
"You're fine. You're doing good, my love." He whispered softly, kissing his head again.
"No, Blaine… t-there he is."
Blaine stiffened, eyes widening. "They're supposed to not be going through here, Kurt. You have to be wrong. They're not allowed to come in this way."
"That's him." Kurt's voice shook and his hand instinctively tightened its grip on Blaine's shirt as the man, who was now laughing with some woman, began to look in their direction. He went very rigid. Did he look away? Did he meet his eyes? What if the guy just ran at him and starting attacking him again? Why had Kurt thought he could handle this? "Blaine, that's him."
The man and woman began walking over. If Blaine needed any more reassurance that it was the man, the creep finally noticed a horrified Kurt and smirked over at them in a satisfied way. His eyes lingered over Blaine, going up and down. Kurt's stomach twisted in knots and in an instant he had stood, attempting to block his boyfriend from the man's view. His fingers still clutched his boyfriend's shirt tightly, so tightly that when he let go the fabric would probably be permanently wrinkled, but it didn't matter. He pulled Blaine closer, as if he didn't want the man to have time to memorize what he looked like. In his mind, at that moment, nothing mattered more than shielding Blaine. Because nobody, no one, was ever going to do anything to his boyfriend as long as he could help it
Blaine couldn't look away though, not even as Burt walked up. "Think this will—? Kid, what's wrong? Do you need some wat—?" he noticed Kurt's wide eyes on someone, how he gripped Blaine in a scared way but also a somewhat defensive one, and how Blaine just stared at the same man Kurt was watching, eyes narrowed.
The man walked past and leaned over Burt's shoulder. "You look a little scared, Pretty Boy. Don't worry. I won't be coming after you next time." His eyes lingered on Blaine.
Kurt stood, rigid. His mouth wouldn't even open. Burt had opened his mouth to say something, his fist rising, just as a lawyer came up. "Come on, Chad. They're ready for us." As he pulled the man away he hissed, "You know you can't talk to anyone. Are you trying to lose this case?"
"I'm going to find a police officer." Burt growled. "What did he do before I got out here? What the hell just happened?"
"Don't bother. He's not going to touch me." Blaine's eyes still followed the man as they walked down the hall. The man turned back, meeting Blaine's eyes, twice. Both times the man, Chad, smirked and winked. "He's just trying to scare Kurt."
"I knew we shouldn't have come to this!" Kurt exclaimed, only letting go of his boyfriend when the man had disappeared from eyesight. He threw himself onto the bench next to Blaine, throwing his arms up despairingly. "What was I thinking? Oh my God."
"No. That man is not allowed to even be on this floor right now, Kurt. He did this on purpose."
"You didn't see the way he looked at Blaine before you got out, Dad! I knew we shouldn't have come. I don't know why I wanted to. It was stupid. I'm stupid. Just take me home, alright?"
"No." Burt said firmly. "We are going to see them throw those men get sent to jail for a very long time. I'm not losing that satisfaction, Kurt, and neither are you."
"But they won't." Kurt whimpered, thoughts racing. It hurt to breathe. His calm demeanor had completely evaporated within a matter of seconds. That man had been an adult. He had known it wasn't a teenager because of the men's voices, but part of him had childishly hoped his attackers had been someone from school still. That way he wouldn't have to walk terrified everywhere he went. If someone who knew him did it, well, it was someone who knew him. Now every time he walked down the street he would be nervous he was going to be attacked. He felt Blaine's hand on his own, covering it protectively, and heard him whispering something in his ear but Kurt didn't even hear it. The blood was rushing in his head too fast to concentrate on anything.
"Come on. We need to go sit down now." His dad said gruffly.
"I don't want to."
"You asked me to bring you here, Kurt. You told me to not let you leave, no matter what happened. I'm not letting you leave. You need this more than I do, kid. You need closure. I need you to have closure. And I'm not leaving until that man pays for what he did to you. You may not have seen yourself in that hospital bed before that surgery, fighting to breathe, but I did. I saw you before they even had that tube in your throat to help. And it's not something I'm ever going to forget. These men are going to pay and we are going to watch it happen." Burt said firmly again, hands on his shoulders and looking in his eyes. "Okay?"
"What if they don't get in trouble?" Kurt whispered hoarsely.
"Five attacks on gay kids in six months? This last one they were caught. Two boys identified them by face, one girl by name, and you by voice, and the other kid died. They are going to jail, Kurt. They are." Burt pulled him into a quick hug. "Now let's get in there. Stay between Blaine and I, okay? Just hold Blaine's hand. Everything will be okay."
"But you didn't see that look he gave Blaine, Dad. He said—."
"Look, Kurt." Burt pointed at Blaine. "Blaine is right here. What's he going to do to Blaine? What could he do to Blaine in front of all of those people? I'm sure as hell not going to let him touch either of you, kid. Blaine is right. He's trying to scare you."
"After he gets out—."
"The man doesn't even know your name, Kurt. They don't know any names of the people they attacked for this very reason. All the precautions have been taken to keep you safe. Yesterday it was enough."
"Yesterday they also told me he wouldn't—."
"Kurt," Blaine whispered in his ear. "Please. The man was trying to scare you. He probably wants you to run in there and say you're dropping the charges so he doesn't have to pay your medical bills or so he spends less time in jail. It is nothing more than that."
Kurt opened his mouth to protest. All he could think of was the man getting out of jail, hunting them down, and hurting Blaine just to get back at him for suing for the money for his bills. Was Blaine right? Had he just been trying to intimidate him to get out of paying the bills? Well, it was working.
"Kiddo, we've got to get in there now or we won't be allowed in. You're going to have to calm down and walk in, okay?" Burt leaned down in front of him, at eye level. He spoke very slowly. "No one will hurt you, Kurt. No one will hurt Blaine either. It's going to be just like we discussed. They'll go in, plead guilty, and they'll leave. Simple as that. Alright?"
"Okay." He finally whispered.
His dad pulled him up and gave him another hug, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. "You're okay, son. I promise."
Blaine stood and made his way to the door, grabbing Kurt's other hand and leading him into the room. He was very aware of how tight Kurt was gripping his hand but when he turned back to look at his boyfriend, he also saw that Kurt had his head held high again. He squeezed Kurt's hand in what he hoped was a comforting way and took a seat in the very last row, feeling very proud of Kurt. Kurt sat as close to him as possible and maintained his tight grip on Blaine's hand, but he was still there and that was more than Blaine would have done in his position. His hands shook and Blaine moved both of Kurt's hands onto his lap, covering them with his own. "It's okay." He whispered, leaning over. "You're okay. You're doing very well."
Kurt didn't respond, but his hands did relax considerably. Blaine watched his blue eyes scanning the room, at first lingering on the man, and then at the other various people that were seated. In one of the front rows were a man and woman. The woman was crying, hands covering her face, and the man was holding her.
"That's probably the boy's parents." He heard himself whisper quietly, to no one in particular. He saw no one else that looked like they had been attacked. He had a feeling everyone else was either there because they were families of the attackers or for another unrelated reason. Was he really the only one who had come to the trial? And had that made him stupid? Was he not supposed to be there?
His father looked at the parents too, his hand resting on Kurt's knee and squeezing it tightly. His other fist was clenched and his leg was jiggling up and down almost erratically. Kurt put his free hand over his father's and took in one last deep breath, finally tearing his eyes away from the man and woman.
Blaine leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Are you okay, my love?"
"Yes." Kurt leaned against him. "I love you."
"I love you too, Kurt." Blaine kissed his cheek again and squeezed his hand.
"Excuse me?" Kurt looked up. The man who had been holding the woman was standing directly in front of him, the woman sniffling and seated on the next bench up and facing him. "You're the other boy, aren't you? The 18 year old who… who was attacked?"
"Yeah." Kurt answered in a shaky voice.
The man took a seat in the row next to his wife, turned so they were still facing. "I just want to thank you. The police said that… that without your statement the case wouldn't have been as strong and they might have been let free. I know it must have been hard… you're a very brave young man."
Kurt felt a lump in his throat and he nodded.
The man gestured to his wife. "Our son, Adam… he's the one who died. My wife and I… we hoped you would show up. We had hoped Adam might wake up and… but… but we're glad you're okay. We're glad that someone…"
The woman leaned over and grabbed his free hand. "We're glad that you're safe and healthy. We hoped all the other kids were. Are you alright?"
"I… I will be. I mean, I am. Mostly." He whispered back, squeezing her hand.
"You're a beautiful boy. My name is Amber."
"Kurt." He whispered softly.
"You're a beautiful boy, Kurt." She touched his cheek with her free hand. "I hope that you're able to move on from this and be happy, because what these men did… it's not worth holding yourself back. Okay? Can you promise me that at least one person will come out from this okay?"
"I promise." Kurt vowed, meeting her eyes.
The man reached over and patted his shoulder before leading his wife back to where they had been sitting before in the front of the courtroom.
Something inside of Kurt seemed to have shifted. It was as if everything was a little brighter. He looked around the room again, eyes going to the man that had attacked him, who had given him his scars, but he didn't feel the overwhelming need to run out of the room. His hands didn't start to shake again, his chest didn't constrict painfully, and he didn't want to cry. The lump in his throat was gone.
"Blaine," he whispered, leaning over.
"Yes?" Blaine looked at him.
Kurt just gave him a weak sort of smile, squeezing his hand, as the elderly male judge entered the room. Everyone was told to stand, the man swore on the bible, and the sentencing commenced. As they took their seat, Burt's hand immediately went back to Kurt's knee, squeezing gently and not leaving.
"How do you plead?" the judge asked almost lazily as he took his seat. It was almost as if he was discussing a parking ticket case instead of a murder and assault case.
"My client pleads guilty, sir, to the lesser charge of manslaughter and also guilty to one Class E Felony ."
"One?" Burt whispered angrily, but only Kurt and Blaine were close enough to hear. "Try four."
"They must have thrown the other ones out." Blaine whispered back softly.
"Very well." The elderly man flipped through some papers. "It disgusts me that I even have to sit here and do cases like this, young man. If it were up to me, I would stick you in solitary confinement until the day you died. You deserve no more than that for taking an innocent life and putting other lives in jeopardy. As it may be, however, you are a first time offender and the law requires I take this into consideration. This is why I'm sentencing you to nine years in prison for the murder of a minor and 2 years for the near death of a teenage boy. These sentences will not be served at the same time. You will be eligible for parole after serving three years for the murder and after 8 months for the assault. This means that you must serve 44 months in prison before you are eligible for parole. And I will highly suggest any parole requests be denied."
As the police officer went up to his attacked and handcuffed him, he felt an invisible weight being lifted off of his shoulders. The man would be in prison for at least four years. For his entire undergraduate college career. It wasn't near long enough, in Kurt's opinion, and the fact that he was only going 15 months for his attack did sting a bit, but that was it. That was what Kurt had wanted to see and wanted to hear. The other two men had been there and would get similar sentences probably, but Kurt had been primarily concerned with the first man that had done all of the bodily harm. With the first man, it was more personal.
"44 months? That man may be out in 44 months?" Burt growled under his breath.
"Let's go, Dad. I saw what I needed to see. I don't care about the other two. I just want to go."
"You don't want to stay?"
"No." Kurt whispered honestly. "I'm done here. It's over now."
Burt stood and quietly left the courtroom, holding the door open for both Kurt and Blaine.
"44 months? 44?" Blaine hissed as soon as the door was closed and they began walking towards the exit. His hand grasped Kurt's.
"It's ridiculous. That boy died. And Kurt could have died. Less than five damn years?" Burt growled right back. "Those men will be eligible for parole in less than five years. What is wrong with the world?"
"They may as well give them a freaking get out of jail free card. What a complete waste of everyone's time."
"This is your grandmother's fault, you know, and her damn staff. I'd like to walk up to your grandmother in a grocery store and— What, Kurt?"
"I'm driving home." Kurt said, hand extended. They had reached his Navigator in the midst of their heated discussion and Kurt waited a bit impatiently. "It's my car. I don't care who sits up front, but I'm choosing the radio station."
Burt and Blaine blankly stared at him as Burt passed over the keys, looking very confused.
"Are you not upset?" Blaine asked slowly.
"He's in jail, Blaine. He's in jail! He didn't just walk away! That's four years that I can walk to my car alone without feeling nervous!" Kurt exclaimed, getting into the car. "Oh God, I am so… just… ah! Oh my God! They caught them and they're going to jail and this is just so much progress!"
"But—."
Burt shook his head at Blaine. "If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for us."
"But it's—."
"We'll talk about it later, kid. Just… just let him have this for right now, okay?"
"I mean, it's not great." Kurt continued as Burt climbed into the passenger seat and Blaine climbed into the back seat. "Yeah, I'd like them to have been in there longer. But I just feel like… like I can breathe, you know? I hope he doesn't get parole, though… but four years. That's good, right, dad?"
"That's good, son." Burt said, trying to sound cheerful although he shared Blaine's thoughts—it wasn't good enough, not near good enough. This was about Kurt though and if Kurt felt better, then okay. He'd accept it.
"I mean, I'll probably not be as satisfied tomorrow or even later today but they're going to jail." He turned in his seat to face Blaine. "Blaine, they're going to jail."
"I know." Blaine forced a smile.
"You're not happy." Kurt's face fell and Burt shot Blaine a look.
"Of course I am, Kurt. I just… I wish he was going to be in prison longer is all. Four years is… I just wish it was longer." He reached up and squeezed his hand. "I'm happy."
"I just… didn't think they'd even get caught. And then I didn't think they'd even go to jail." He ran his hands through his hair and then tried to flatten it. "Maybe I should have expected more."
"We all three agreed that whether it was 3 days or 30 years, it didn't make a difference." Burt said firmly. "The most important thing is that Kurt is safe and healthy. If Kurt is happy and healthy, that is the only thing that matters."
"And that they pay the medical bills." Kurt added as an afterthought.
"No. That you're safe, healthy, and happy. This was more to do with your happiness than financial problems, Kurt. This was for closure. Do you feel like you've got some closure?"
"To be honest, I think I had my closure the second that boy's mom grabbed my hand." Kurt leaned back against the seat, hands on the steering wheel but still not yet driving. "It just… I don't know."
"Resonated in you?" Blaine offered.
Kurt pursed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's the right word. Maybe. I just… It's over. It's time to move on to bigger and better things like Carole said yesterday. Carole's really smart, Dad. It's over." He nodded again, staring straight ahead. "It's done. I don't ever want to go through with this again, but I just want it done."
"It's done." Burt assured him. "Anything else to do with it is for me and the insurance people to deal with."
"Good." Kurt let out a relieved sigh. "Good, I'm glad. Thank God."
"Well, let's not sit here all day. We've got stuff to do and places to go." Burt buckled his seat belt. "And please don't drive in a way that makes me regret teaching you how to drive. I don't think I can handle a having a heart attack on top of everything else."