Blaine isn't sure he will ever be able to look at himself the same way again.
He is accessory to a murder now, something he could have never imagined himself a part of. He's pretty sure he hasn't actually managed to wrap his head around it all quite yet. But he's a mind reader now, he'd heard every thought the others had about what happened. Kurt hadn't meant to do it, he'd just been trying to protect himself. Hell, he'd protected all of them. Seeing his own death so vividly in the forefront of Pucks mind had been proof enough.
He'd died.
In some alternate universe, or some almost reality, however the hell Puck's gift worked, Blaine had died. He'd been the mad councilors second casualty. None of the others had even known his name. None of them had ever learned the cap kid's, and considering that Blaine had helped flushed pieces of his corpse down the toilet, it was something he'd regret for the rest of his life.
Fuck-he'd been the one to suggest such a horrible thing. The panic and horror had done something to his brain, broken past all sense and sensibility. Left his morals and basic human decency shattered.
Maybe that's why he agreed so easily. He folds in the face of the others thoughts with little to no protest. He's still doing it now. Keeping his silence at dinner when his mothers thoughts turn to how haggard he looks. She thinks about how he's not made for hard labor in exasperation and Blaine has the oddest urge to explain how he'd been all for berrying the bodies instead of taking the easy way out, despite it being his suggestion.
Blaine says he's not feeling well and excuses himself from the table. He needs-he doesn't know what he needs, but trying to have a normal dinner and pretend everything is fine when he watched someone who tried to kill him die isn't it. Especially not when his parent's are thinking about how much easier everyone's life would be if he'd just decide to be straight.
It hurts. He hadn't-no that's a lie. He'd known his parents thought he had a choice. That he'd picked the wrong orientation to have when he could have been straight instead. He'd never seemed terribly gay to them despite his love of show tunes and Vogue. Granted they'd hardly been around enough to notice said love. His parents were succesful people, and while he'd always feel proud about their accomplishments, he'd never quite managed not to resent how much of their time and energy work took up.
He was pretty sure none of the nanny's that had mostly raised him would be surprised by his sexual orientation.
And the sad thing? No, not even sad, the infuriating part was that his parents didn't even care. They weren't even homophobes, they just didn't have the time to be bothered to educate themselves and spend time making an informed opinion about the issue. To them his sexuality was just the latest fad, and he'd probably grow out of it in a few years the way he'd 'outgrown' his guitar lessons.
It was like they didn't know him at all.
Sitting there, looking at the two people who's DNA had combined to create him and realizing that they were, for all intents and purposes, strangers, was unbearable. He could have died-hell, according to Puck he had, the first time around. He'd died and there wasn't one person in the world who would miss the person he actually was.
Maybe the Warblers would miss their lead singer, maybe his parents would miss the boy they apparently thought of as their more troublesome child. But no one-absolutely no one would miss Blaine.
Face planting on the bed, Blaine let the tears come. What was the point of resisting? His parents had the room soundproofed a few years before when the sound of Blaine's music practice became too bothersome. With the door shut no one could hear a thing. Blaine cried himself to sleep.
X
The cops showed up the next day.
Blaine felt too numb for the guilt over what they had actually done to the bodies. The part of him hellbent on survival despite the utter futility of living peeked into the officers thoughts automatically.
They were completely unimpressed by Puck, completely racist towards Santana, one of them actually thought Blaine might be a 'half chink'. There were a few disheartening and expected homophobic thoughts about Kurt, and many truly grossly sexual ones towards Brittany.
But neither of them even suspected that they might be involved with the others disappearance.
Kurt had appeared with jumpsuits in better condition than any of them had received them in. Santana had realised that it would be more suspicious if their councilor had never appeared the day before and had ordered them all to claim that he'd been there when they showed up. Instructed them to clean graffiti, which they had until it started to rain and they got sent home.
They were still the last to see their councilor, but the lack of a body meant that the guy could have taken off.
There was barely any mention of cap kid, who turned out to be named Charlie Oakly. Apparently all delinquents were considered to be at flight risk. One of the cops had decided that Blaine himself would probably be the next one to skip out since he 'looked weaker than the fag'.
Blaine hated all the Westerville police on principle by the time they left.
"Well?" Santana asks, arching an eyebrow once they've watched the cops drive away.
Their intermin councilor, one of those wrinkled older women that had probably been old when cars were new glares at them suspiciously over thick rimmed spectacles. They're all hopeless trash as far as she's concerned.
Blaine angles his head away from her and mouths 'we're good'.
Kurt and Puck slump with relief, thoughts immediately turning to their families. Santana actually smiles at him, a surprisingly sweet expression, and thinks about how useful his power would be in securing social power at her highschool. Brittany is trying to remember the name for the kind of triangles his eyebrows remind her of.
Blaine wishes desperately that he'd gotten some other power. Any power-even Santana's rather horrifying one was starting to sound good. It wasn't like anyone touched him anyway.
x
So I'm doing Nanowrimo and focusing on my original stuf, I wont be posting this November.