Daydream Believer
ONE MONTH LATER
Kurt and Blaine could barely comprehend everything that was happening. So many things changed on a weekly basis that they could barely keep up. Despite the fast pace of their changing environment, everything progressed positively. Whenever Blaine was feeling particularly overwhelmed, Kurt made sure to remind him that his convalescence was his number one priority. But Blaine, being the caring and helpful person that he was, often found himself mentally stressed and fatigued when he didn't know every detail. Today, Kurt had an appointment with the Dean of NYADA. Blaine wasn't even going and he was a nervous wreck. Kurt recalled having to lecture him like a child,
"Too bad. You don't have to know about my class schedule, Blaine. It doesn't affect you, so let it go."
The meeting with Dean Tibideaux normally would have put Kurt in a state of dread. But something about the last month and his experiences had allowed him to grow in his self advocacy. He walked into her office with his head held high, and not an ounce of insecurity.
When he entered, she gave him her usual condescending glances, peeking up from the frames of her glasses with a raised eyebrow. Kurt took a seat across from her with his back straight and legs crossed.
"I was beginning to wonder if we would ever see you again, Mr. Hummel. I was made aware by your professors that your performance in all of your classes has severely suffered in the last few weeks. Do you have an explanation for that?" She leaned back, comfortable in her position of power and tried to intimidate Kurt with her stare. He was surprised that she was so ill informed of current events. Then again, her entire world was NYADA and little else mattered to her.
"I wish to have an extension on some of the most recent work in my classes due to unforeseen circumstances. I assume you have been up on the news?"
She sat still, staring at him. Kurt took that as a signal to continue, "the Bushwick neighborhood, where my fiancé and I live has been victimized by international criminals."
A playful scoff sounded from her side of the desk. She was unimpressed at best. Kurt opened the front pouch of his shoulder bag, pulled out the newspaper of the Ridgewood and Bushwick area which had covered his and Blaine's involvement with the FBI. When Tibideaux showed little to no change in demeanor, Kurt placed it on her desk in front of her.
"Blaine and I were attacked by them last month."
At first she didn't look like she believed him. But when she obliged by picking up the newspaper and scanning the story, her facial expression changed to surprisingly enlightened. With a heavy sigh, she folded the paper and placed it back on the desk, closer to Kurt. She shrugged,
"Alright, you have my attention."
"Blaine has put in a request to delay his first semester till January. It has been pending for the last two weeks and it is affecting his grades. He still can't be in class, and will need until then to be ready to return."
Tibideaux held her hands in front of her, waving them back and forth in protest,
"There is a deadline for that, Mr. Hummel. It was the end of September and it is coming up on the last week of October. He knew the deadline and failed to answer it."
Kurt pulled out his phone and pulled up an image. Leaning forward, he set the phone in front of her. Her demeanor changed dramatically from condescending to genuinely shocked.
"It was somewhat difficult for him to answer when he was in that condition. And I couldn't do anything because I need his permission to do his paperwork for him."
Tibideaux held the phone and observed it pensively. Her hand looked like it was almost trembling. Before her was an image of Blaine in a hospital bed, covered in bandages and on a ventilator. She looked like she didn't really know how to comprehend it.
"He was shot twice, Dean Tribideaux. He was in a medically induced coma for almost a week. How exactly is he supposed to contact you if he is not even conscious?"
Kurt could tell by her silence that he had gained the higher ground in this debate. The uncomfortable shifting in her chair told him that the photo was effective. Several minutes passed as the silent awkwardness swallowed them. Finally, she handed back his phone, folded her arms and looked back at him with a fraction of humility.
"Consider Blaine's request granted. What about you, Mr. Hummel? What do you need?"
Kurt couldn't believe he heard those words coming from her mouth. He knew this was the time to take advantage of her generosity while it was still being offered.
"I would like your support in talking to my professors about helping me catch up. I want to keep going from where I left off and finish this semester. You have the power to do this for me."
Dean Tibideaux nodded,
"True. I do have that power. But let me play the devil's advocate. They will ask why you deserve it."
Kurt pointed at her, as if to agree. He reached into his shoulder bag again and handed her a letter signed by both Agents Freeman and Sibaja-Mora. In summation, it laid out the situation with the apprehension of the international criminals and how Kurt was a prime resource in the success of their apprehension. She skimmed it and, seeing the official FBI seal and the signatures of the agents at the bottom, was plenty convinced. She leaned forward and held her hand out. Kurt took it and shook firmly.
"Consider yourself reinstated and given an extension."
Kurt acknowledged her with a firm nod and stood from his chair.
"Thank you for your time and understanding, Dean Tibideaux. Blaine and I both appreciate it." He turned to the door and she called after him,
"Mr. Hummel," he stopped and turned back while standing in the doorway, "whatever happened to you has changed you. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you experienced what you did. And...I'm proud of you."
He searched her face and saw sincerity. With an exchange of nods, Kurt was confident that they understood one another.
Kurt entered to the sound of laughter and lively conversation. He took in the image of their new domicile with pride and contentment. Not only was it larger and fancier than the previous, but the ominous cloud of nightmarish memories did not hang over its roof.
Since Blaine's release from the hospital, they had decided not to return to the Bushwick apartment for obvious reasons. That left them on the housing market without a home. Burt offered to help pay for a hotel room until they could find a place, but to their surprise the FBI stepped in and covered it. Something had been mentioned about Kurt being the reason they had apprehended international criminals. They hadn't been at the hotel long when they received word from Blaine's mother that she had purchased a new home on Staten Island. Kurt remembered the exchange vividly. He and Blaine were standing in the kitchenette of their hotel room with the phone on speaker on the table.
"Wait, what?" Blaine didn't believe what she had just said.
"Blainey, your father came through."
That comment hadn't clarified anything. He looked at Kurt, puzzled at the entire conversation.
"What does that mean? You said he ran off and wanted nothing to do with us. Now he's suddenly back?"
She giggled on the other end. Blaine responded with visual annoyance.
"I divorced his ass, or I tried to, and he started to put up a fight. So I threatened to go public with the story about how he didn't bother to come see his son after recovering from the injuries of a hate crime."
Kurt and Blaine's eyes nearly popped out of their skulls in bewilderment. She really did that?
"Wow, mom. I'm honestly impressed." Blaine didn't hate his father, but he wasn't particularly close to him. He never really invested much time in Blaine and did little to support him after he came out. Even the protests from Cooper and Pam did little to sway his opinion. To Mr. Anderson, bonding time consisted of overly masculine activities that tried to "get the gay out" of his son. Blaine never really let it bother him. He just asked that his dad not expect any affection in return. The feeling seemed mutually understood.
"So, as soon as I threatened, his tail went right between his know how he is about his public image. He signed the papers and settled rather handsomely. I got half. Let's just say it's enough for us to live comfortably for a long while."
"To the tune of…?" Blaine inquired.
"A four bedroom, three bathroom house on Staten Island. Price tag eight hundred thousand. And there's still enough left for a rainy day, don't worry."
Blaine was caught off guard by that comment. His hand clutched his chest in disbelief as his eyes remained wide.
"I'm happy for you, mom. You get to live near us"
Her unabashed laughter confused both of the boys. They looked at each other, brows knitted. "What's wrong with her?" Kurt mouthed. Blaine shrugged.
"Blaine, you are adorable. I'm not just living near you. I want you two to come share the house with me. It's all paid for. You two can start fresh. Sam can come too and Cooper will visit between acting jobs. What do you say?"
The stunned silence filled the hotel room. The pair covered their mouths in disbelief as the gratified tears welled up in their eyes. Blaine had to lean over the counter to regain his senses.
"I'll take your silence as a shocked 'Yes' then?"
With his voice breaking, Blaine leaned into the phone,
"You mean we get to start over? As mother and son?"
"That's right, honey."
"I love you." Blaine couldn't continue. He gestured to Kurt to finish the conversation.
"So, when do we move in?" He said, half jokingly, half sincerely.
"Oh, today. Get your butts to the storage place. The moving van will be waiting for you there in an hour." After a stunned silence, they ended the call and bundled all of their things. Soon, an Uber had arrived and taken them to the storage facility where their furniture and larger belongings were kept. Within a week, they had settled into the new place.
Another round of laughter brought him back to the present. He removed his coat and scarf and hung them on the coat rack just inside the door. Kurt walked around the corner from the entryway and was greeted by the smiling faces of Sam, Mercedes and Rachel seated at the large sectional couch next to the enormous picture window. The evening sun was disappearing behind the skyline of Manhattan, giving the apartment a cozy ambiance. A bottle of wine was open on the glass coffee table. Kurt almost had a conniption,
"Blaine Devon Anderson, you know you aren't supposed to have alcohol!"
Blaine stood from the couch and approached his fiance. He found humor in his angry expression as he abated it with a warm embrace.
"I know. There's no rule against giving it to guests, though."
Kurt's muscles relaxed and he returned the affection, ending the hug with an affectionate kiss. Rachel raised her glass,
"Don't worry, Kurt, he's behaving. He is just being a good host." she winked at Blaine, who returned her comment with a thankful bow. Mercedes turned to Kurt,
"How was the meeting with the dean? Did she tear you a new one?" she snickered. Kurt made himself comfortable on the couch next to Blaine, taking his hand in his lap. He looked back matter-of-factly,
"Actually, she showed an enormous amount of empathy. I was really surprised. For a second I wondered if it was her."
Rachel looked at him in disbelief,
"Are we talking about the same Tibideaux?" she inquired. Kurt just responded with a slight nod and a look that suggested he wasn't going to question the miracle. While they sat in silence for a moment, Blaine poured a fresh glass for Kurt and handed it to him. He proceeded to take his own small wine glass and hold it up. Kurt looked on incredulously and started to protest,
"I thought…"
"It's grape juice for goodness sake. Chill," he retorted defensively.
Rachel, Mercedes, Sam and Kurt pressed their glasses against Blaine's. After a light clinking of their toast, Blaine said,
"To surviving."
A collective "Hear hear" filled the living room and they proudly drank in honor of the ordeal that Kurt and Blaine had overcome. When they had returned to their spots on the couch, Mercedes and Rachel noticed that Sam was practically jumping with excitement. He held his arms out toward Blaine as if he wanted to bear hug the man. Blaine looked perplexed,
"What's gotten into you?" he asked.
"Tell them about your progress, Blaine! I mean, I'M proud of you! Aren't you proud of yourself ?"
Rachel and Mercedes turned to Blaine cheerfully, hoping to hear the good news. The dark haired man rolled his eyes and looked down sheepishly. When he felt Kurt nudge him with his elbow, he snickered.
"Well, I don't need my cane to walk anymore and I can get up and down the stairs without help…"
Sam put his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent,
"Blaine, don't sell yourself short."
His embarrassment was only overtaken by his happiness as he continued,
"And I was able to sing an entire song almost at full volume yesterday."
Kurt sat up, surprised at what he heard.
"You didn't tell me that," he said quietly in Blaine's ear. Rachel was confused,
"Didn't you know, Kurt?"
He shook his head and she just laughed. Sam explained the routine,
"While Kurt is at class, Blaine and I go to the exercise room down the hall there," he indicated down a long, dark hallway past the kitchen, "and I do his PT with him. The therapist gave me the list of exercises he has to do and I supervise." Mercedes looked at him proudly and grabbed his hand,
"That's wonderful. I'm glad you are being so helpful, Sam." she said. Recalling the time they had been dating brought back memories of frustration. Despite this, she was always amazed at how indiscriminately kind and protective he was of his friends. Blaine was in good hands. Kurt looked longingly at his boyfriend, showing his pride at his accomplishments.
"Can I ask what song?"
When everyone was suddenly staring at him, Blaine blushed.
"Blackbird." When he saw Kurt's smile fade, he became worried. In the chorus of cooing from his friends, Blaine looked at him and knew that the expression was not out of anger or disappointment, but extreme respect. When he felt Kurt squeeze his hand, it was all the recognition he needed.
Rachel inquired further,
"What do the doctors say? Are they happy with how you're doing?"
Blaine shrugged,
"Yeah, they seem to be. I just have to be careful when I go out. Since I don't have a spleen anymore, I am more susceptible to infection. Dr. Nyugen has me on prophylactic antibiotics and I have to wear a mask in public for a few more months as I get my strength back. Other than that it's just washing my hands really well and putting all my energy into getting stronger. Don't worry, I'll be back on the stage before you know it."
Sam raised his glass again,
"No doubt about it!" he exclaimed. They raised their glasses in solidarity and drank again. Kurt pulled Blaine closer to him. When he rested his head on his shoulder, Kurt turned and kissed the top of his head. He kneaded his fiance's hand lovingly, showing how proud he was at his progress.
"So you are almost back to normal then, huh?" Mercedes said. Blaine gave her a so-so motion with his hand,
"I'm much better than I was, but I have a ways to go. I still get tired easily and I still have some weakness in my legs from time to time. It's slow, but it is sure."
Rachel set her glass down on the coffee table and stood from the couch. Her friends watched her walk over to Blaine and kneel down in front of him. She took his hands tightly in her own and kissed his knuckles. Mercedes walked up behind her and looked down lovingly at her friends. She took hold of Kurt's hand. Sam approached from the side and put his hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine knew what was coming and he could feel the tears burning his eyes. He looked at Rachel,
"We are so happy that you two are okay."
"You've got that right," Sam agreed.
"You both survived because you are so strong. And the world is a better place to have you in it."
Kurt and Blaine looked at each other. Now the tears were falling freely from both of their eyes. They chuckled and Kurt began to wipe them away,
"Dammit, Rachel. You're not supposed to make us feel the feels yet!"
They shared in the laughter and then gathered into a group hug, being careful not to be too forceful with Blaine.
The conversation ended when Kurt offered to give them a tour of the house. Mercedes and Rachel accepted happily as they all stood from the couch and followed the leader through the domicile. Blaine held back with Sam by his side. He walked with a slight limp, and moved slowly, but otherwise ambled without assistance. Kurt himself was surprised at how much square footage the house contained and found himself forgetting about all the rooms they had. The two level house came complete with an open concept main floor where Pam's bedroom was at the end of the hall. Across from her, they had converted one of the four bedrooms into an exercise area complete with free weights, a treadmill and a weight machine. Sam was intimately familiar, and even tried to get Rachel and Mercedes to give the machines a try. They turned him down gracefully.
By the time they reached the top floor and walked into Kurt and Blaine's spacious master bedroom, Blaine was already showing signs of fatigue. Sam pulled out the chair of the desk against the wall and ordered him to take a seat.
"Yes, sir," he soluted mockingly at his friend. Despite his embarrassment, he was grateful to take respite in the chair. The conversation moved to a more serious subject,
"So, sorry to bring it up, but have you heard anything from the FBI about the...suspects?" Mercedes asked, being careful of her words. Kurt didn't hesitate in his response and nodded.
"Yes. The trial is in March." he trailed off, his eyes looking at the floor. Rachel took his hand and moved closer to him. Mercedes turned to Blaine and saw worry in his expression. She put her hands up defensively,
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I hope I didn't make you relive anything." Her tone was sincere. Blaine shrugged,
"No, you didn't. It's just they asked us to testify."
Silence again. Sam just got down on his haunches next to his friend and waited patiently. He hadn't heard about the correspondence with the FBI and was equally curious. Blaine and Kurt's faces met as they contemplated how much they wanted to explain. Rachel spoke first,
"You're not sure you'll want to…" she finished the explanation for them. Their friends did not look at them with pity or judgement. Their faces only displayed empathy.
"It's okay, guys. It's your decision. You have a few months to decide," Sam reassured them. Blaine felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Mercedes' eyes,
"Don't feel bad if you decide you can't. That goes for both of you, okay?"
After a short pause, Sam tried to lift the mood of the room,
"Awwww, come on! Another group hug, guys!"
Following another shared laugh, they moved into a tight group hug. They remained there for several minutes, saying nothing. They didn't have to. Kurt and Blaine knew they were safe and loved. They knew it because of the friends that were in their presence.
Sam broke from the embrace first and put his hand in the middle. His face looked like that of a mischievous teenager.
"You can't be serious." Mercedes said.
"Come on, you know you want to!"
A couple of them scoffed, and one of them rolled her eyes as they all put their hands in the middle. At the count of three, they all shouted,
" G!" Their hands flew into the air. Despite the momentary embarrassment, the moment made them all feel better. They shared in the hilarity as they all realized how fortunate they were to be in one another's company.
Someone was screaming in Kurt's ear. His dreams had been blessed with images of happiness when the sudden burst of sound brought him to reality. For a moment, he expected to have to reach over to his bedside table to silence his alarm, but he was wrong. It wasn't the noise coming from his phone. The sound came from beside him.
As his awareness came back to him in a rush, he turned to his right and saw his fiance in a tangle of sheets, his hands digging into his hair violently. Breaths came in short gasps as exhalations came out in horrified sobs. He curled up into a fetal position and began to rock back and forth on his side. A blanket of sweat coated his hair and neck. The pillowcase and sheets under him were damp with his perspiration.
"NO! NOOO! GET AWAY!" his voice wasn't loud, but it was forceful.
Kurt was cautious as he neared Blaine. He gradually increased the pressure on his lover's shoulder as he laid his hand on him. Contrary to previous times, he didn't recoil.
Kurt heard the door creak open quietly from behind. He turned to see Sam standing in the small opening he had made. He gave Kurt a look of concern and was answered with a nod and a wave of his hand. He knew that it meant Kurt had the situation under control and took his leave.
"Blaine, I'm here. Come back to me, okay?" He nestled in with his chest against Blaine's back and slowly wrapped himself around him in a comforting embrace. Blaine continued to rock and pull at his hair.
"Kurt, he's here. He's coming to kill me. I can't hide from him. I need to get out of here."
Kurt continued to hold him and then began to hum quietly. He moved his hands up and down Blaine's arms, trying to work the tension out of his muscles as he continued to panic. When several minutes of this did nothing to abate the attack, he moved into a grounding exercise,
"It's okay Blaine. You are home and you are safe. Open your eyes and tell me five things you can see."
After a moment's hesitation, Blaine continued to pull at his hair as the sobs exited his lips once again. Kurt tried one more time,
"Five things, Blaine. Come on. You can do it."
He couldn't see it, but Blaine slowly opened his eyes and searched his surroundings,
"Mirror, lamp, phone, chair, my hands," with each word, his breathing slowed down.
"Great job, Blaine. Now four things you can hear."
Blaine concentrated and closed his eyes this time,
"I hear your breathing, the rustling of the sheets, the buzzing of the electricity and the air from the vent." Kurt caressed him even closer and interlaced their fingers. There were three more exercises to go.
"You're doing superbly. Now tell me three things you can feel." He could feel Blaine move in closer to his chest. His breathing was almost back to normal,
"I feel your hand in mine, I can feel your warmth behind me, and I feel the pillow against my face."
Kurt pressed his lips against the back of Blaine's neck. He didn't care about the sweat or the taste of the salt on his mouth. All he wanted was to help him.
"Alright, good. Tell me two things you can smell."
Blaine took in a deep breath through his nostrils,
"I smell your lavender air freshener, and your moisturizer on your hands," he said, as he brought Kurt's fingers to his nose and breathed him in. Kurt smiled from behind him,
"One more, Blaine. One thing you can taste."
To his surprise, Blaine started shifting his position. Kurt let him go and watched him turn to his other side in order to face him. He leaned in and placed his lips over Kurt's. A smile formed on his mouth as he backed away slightly,
"I taste you." he said lovingly.
"You are home." Kurt said.
"I am home," Blaine repeated.
"You are safe." Kurt said.
"I am safe," Blaine repeated.
Kurt could tell that the exercise had been successful. Blaine no longer had his fingers knotted in his hair and his breathing had returned to normal. As he laid there in front of him, he appeared close to falling asleep again. Kurt stroked his cheek with the back of his hand and combed his fingers through Blaine's messy curls.
Blaine lifted his eyelids and waited until his lover was looking directly into his eyes. The tender moment became emotional quickly. The tears that had built up in the attack started to pour out.
"When are these damned attacks going to go away?"
Kurt just looked back at him empathetically, continuing to stroke his cheek.
"They will. Remember what the psychiatrist said. You will get through this, you just have to be…"
"Patient, I know." Blaine said, with some disappointment in his voice.
Kurt's hand wandered from Blaine's curls to his face, then to his neck. He could feel the muscles in his boyfriend's body begin to relax and he was thankful for it. He continued moving his hand down to Blaine's shoulder and then allowed it to stop on his chest. He gently pulled on the fabric of his sleeveless t-shirt where the faded scar of the burn remained. Kurt stroked it, as if to inspect how it was healing. Thanks to an amazing topical ointment from a dermatologist, Kurt and Blaine had been able to treat their burns to the point of them being barely discernible. The rectangle and hateful word were only slightly more red than the surrounding skin. Kurt believed that once they were both able to rid themselves of this terrible reminder, they would be able to move on with grace. Blaine knew what he was doing, but remained still and took solace in his lover's touch.
By the time Kurt had returned his hand to Blaine's cheek, he noticed he had fallen asleep. While the panic attacks were horrific to witness, he was grateful he was able to help his boyfriend come out of them safely. After a few minutes, his eyelids were getting heavy. The last image he remembered seeing was a slight smile on Blaine's face as he was lost to slumber.
