Silent Cries Chapter 24: I Wanna Hold Your Hand, a glee fanfic

Disclaimer: I own nothing unless I've suddenly turned into Ryan Murphy since the time I last looked in a mirror. And if you don't recognise the song, I highly suggest you search up Chris Colfer's cover of I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles.

It had been nearly a month since Kurt had uttered his first words and yet he hadn't said anything since, although he had managed to open himself up a lot more, especially to Blaine. The pair were now virtually inseparable, even more so than Theo and Fors, and it was clear to everyone. Harrison hadn't said anything to Kurt after the incident before, possibly because he was too much of a coward to say anything with Blaine around, but had resorted to instead shooting Kurt spiteful looks which Kurt chose to ignore. If he could deal with the bullying back at McKinley, he could deal with a few childish faces getting pulled at him.

Kurt sat in the dining hall, joining Blaine and his friends but the dark haired teenager making sure he sat on the edge so he didn't feel pressurised. It had recently become habit for the pair to do this ever since Blaine had managed to convince Kurt to sit with them again. Trent and David were holding an open (and loud) debate about which superhero was best, the topic seeming to have continued from their last lesson.

"I'm sorry, but at least Iron Man doesn't rely on some superpower for what he does- he'd still be doing what he'd be doing if everyone lost them."

"Excuse you but at least Aquaman doesn't need to use money unlike yours," sassed Trent, earning a high five from Thad who was an avid Aquaman supporter.

"Plus, I mean how many people can talk to sea mammals?"

"Erm, Poseidon, Dr. Who, Percy Jackson, Neptune"

"Poseidon and Neptune are the same person," cut in Thad, rolling his eyes.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Actually, you could claim he's both."

"Of course you'd say that, Wesley," said Thad, getting shot a glare from the said boy.

"Besides, both of you are wrong on the account of who's the best- Batman is the clear winner."

And so the debate went on, David adding in his opinions and acting almost like a devil's advocate in the argument. Meanwhile, Kurt picked at his food, smiling every now and then when one of the boys made a rather funny defence-

"But Batman has abs!"

"And you claim to be straight, Wes.."

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine watched him, noting the shy smiles and felt a wave of pleasure as he realized just how much Kurt had changed recently. He was using his notebook a lot more and Blaine was thinking of buying him a new, bigger one soon- the current one was nearly full already as it had only started with around 100 pages anyway.

He bit his tongue slightly as he saw Kurt push away his food, having eaten barely any of the salad. He knew it wasn't good for the already skinny boy to be eating like this as he could get ill very quickly but on the other hand, he didn't want to force him to eat in case he lost his trust. It was certainly a difficult situation for Blaine who, in the end, decided to take a gentle approach and simply hope for the best outcome.

"Hey Kurt?"

The said teen looked up, smiling as his cerulean eyes met the hazel and he was brought away from listening to the debate where Trent was now vividly describing everything that made Aquaman great.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Blaine asked, nodding slightly to the plate.

Kurt blushed and pulled it back, gingerly picking up the fork and using it to stab dishearteningly at a tomato.

"No, I didn't mean you had to," said Blaine quickly as Kurt's face fell. "Just, eating salad all the time can't be healthy- I could always get you something else if you want me too?"

The triangular eyebrows furrowed when Kurt shook his head violently, "Kurt?"

The said boy bit his lip, being none to gentle and stared at Blaine with wide eyes.

"Kurt? It's okay," smiled Blaine, taking the porcelain boy's hand in his reassuringly, "you don't have to, just... Well, just try not to eat salad all the time- you could get ill and where'd I be without my best friend?"

That made Kurt stop.

Blaine considered him his best friend? Of course, the feeling was mutual but still...Kurt had always thought Blaine put up with him because they were roommates. All the signs were there that Blaine thought of him as a friend, Kurt just didn't want to get his hopes up to find he was wrong. He didn't think he had the self confidence for that. No. He knew he didn't.

Kurt dipped his head, hiding his face which was a picture of diffident, and frowned upon his food. It wasn't that he simply wasn't hungry as he would so frequently tell himself, his stomach would object to that, it was more that he was scared to eat.

"Get any fatter and nobody will want you," a voice would whisper in his head, "not even Dave will want to touch you."

Kurt gave a involuntary shiver but still somehow managed to send Blaine a small smile. He picked up a small piece of cucumber, chewing it meaningfully whilst keeping eye contact with Blaine who rewarded him with a low chuckle.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to eat anything else?" Blaine asked, grinning as he picked up one of his chips and waved it temptingly in front of Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes, turning his back to Blaine whilst his smile grew wider at the boy's antics.

"Pleeease?"

Kurt turned back around, unable to ignore Blaine, but for once, not because of fear. Honestly, Kurt wasn't sure what made him turn around but the boy's face was good enough reason why. The puppy eyes he was receiving could melt even the coldest of hearts. He frowned but, as Blaine expected, gave in, reaching out for the food and, with another roll of his eyes, swallowed it.

"See?! They taste nice, right? Soo...would you like anymore?"

The porcelain teen shook his head, answering in the negative, and frowned when he saw Blaine's face fall. Hurriedly, he took his pen into his hand, 'maybe tomorrow, though?'

The light in the other boy's eyes relit.

"Yo, Blaine!"

The group's conversation paused as each of them looked up to find the owner of the voice, Kurt drawing back immediately as he recognized who it was: Connor. Hurriedly, he ducked his head, hoping the older boy hadn't recognized him.

"Hey Conner- what are you doing here? Looking for Mikey?"

"Nah, he's off cramming for his test next lesson- he didn't get much time last night," the boy grinned, winking.

"I was actually looking for you, Sir wants ya."

"Which one?"

"Ratface."

"Connor!" Wes exclaimed loudly, though used to the confident boy, he hated when he disrespected the teachers.

"Fine, Wesley. Mr. Odaire- happy?"

"Yes."

Connor rolled his eyes, turning back to Blaine, "well? You comin'?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so," he said after silently asking Kurt if he'd be alright on by himself to which Kurt had given a minute nod.

"'Kay. See ya later guys."

"See you."

From his seat, Kurt watched as the pair disappeared around the corner. Mentally, he marvelled at how Connor managed to get away with wearing the level of makeup he wore and his 'rendition' of school uniform. The said boy's eyes were each defined by thick, black eyeliner and his hair was mussed up with gel to give it a messy- but good messy- look. On his feet, he wore a pair of dark converse with equally dark skinny jeans stretching out from them, covering his legs although they weren't as tight as what Kurt used to wear. It certainly was different to what normal uniform regulations would allow, little did he know, however, how hard it had been for the teachers to make the boy wear his blazer. When it came to rules about his clothes and appearance, Connor was never one to conform.

"Hey Kurt? Kuuuurtie?!"

The said teen looked up from his thoughts and was met by Jeff smiling down at him. Unconsciously, he pulled away, thankful when the blond didn't mention it.

"Me and Nick were wondering if you wanted to hang around with us for a bit?" Ok, so really Jeff just didn't want to leave Kurt alone without his other half.

Kurt shook his head, scrawling something down on his paper- 'I've got work I need to do. That's for the offer though.'

"Anytime," replied Jeff, "if you get bored though, just give us a shout."

Kurt didn't know how long he'd been wondering around the halls of Dalton. In reality, he guessed he should have been more jumpy than he was, but he wasn't. He'd walked these corridors so many times with Blaine, it didn't seem as intimidating any more as he could always imagine the boy beside him if he panicked.

At first, Kurt had attempted to study, but he was too fidgety and knew before he had sat down his efforts would be in vain, but, nevertheless, he had tried. And proved himself correct. The words had danced on the paper and refused for his brain to process them and eventually the teen had just given up and left for a walk to clear his mind.

That had been ages ago and the clock on his cheap phone told him it had been at least an hour, most likely more as he had no clue of the time when he first set out meandering the halls. Now, he found himself standing outside a familiar metal door, the chipped paint peeling more than Kurt had remembered. Unlike the corridors above him, it there was now a silence around him. Not a heavy silence though, a light, comfortable one which the teen enjoyed.

He was surprised the door still wasn't locked if he was honest, he'd have thought Theo and Fors would have by now locked it so only they could get in. They didn't seem the type to do it but he knew how sensitive people could get about their own space. When he was younger, he himself had layed boobytraps around his room so it was virtually impossible for anyone to get in or out, including him.

The boy took a breath, testing the door to see if it would open with ease or not. Thankfully, it did, only giving a quiet groan from the hinges as it swung open. With a final glance over his shoulder to check if there was anyone else about, Kurt disappeared into the large room, closing the door soundlessly behind him. A quick twist of the rusty bolt ensured nobody could follow him.

Kurt gave a relaxed sigh as he looked around the deserted room, the only difference being a single spotlight flickering on the stage. Looking at the flashing light gave him a headache and so instead he turned, scanning the room and the lighting box for any sign of movement. There wasn't any and the only sound was his own slightly heavy breathing. Of course, why would they? His year were all on the field- some mandatory testing for a sports event. Who was the fastest and who had the most stamina, that kind of thing. Kurt had gotten out of it, having persuaded his father to write him a note to get out of it so nobody saw his bruises when he changed. His bones may have healed, but there were still traces of Karofsky.

After about a minute of scouring the room for anybody, Kurt found himself being naturally drawn to the room's only source of light- the circular focus on the stage. He didn't walk straight into it though. If anything, he avoided it like the plague but he still found himself climbing the steps that lead to the raised platform. Almost hugging the wall to make sure he didn't disturb the light, Kurt walked around it, finally getting to a darker area and sinking down on a stool, calming his breathing he hadn't even realized had picked up its pace.

He didn't know how long he sat there, just watching the light, but fond memories of the times he'd been near it brewed at the back of his mind. Singing with the New Directions with his (ex-)friends for their first ever sectionals performance. Doing duets with Rachel and basically managing to rid himself of all the pain and worry as he sang. It had been a haven for him, being in the light, he would be so vulnerable in his emotions yet he was safe.

He brought his knees up on the stool, hugging them to his chest before quickly realizing it was a bad idea to do this on a backless chair when he rocked backwards violently. In his haste to regain balance, Kurt flung out an arm, surprised when it crashed into something solid behind him and a clash of musical notes broke the silence of the auditorium. He looked around the room, breath hitching as he made sure nobody had heard him and come running. Nobody was shaking the doors to try and open them though, so guessed he was safe. After pushing himself back upright on the stool, Kurt twisted himself around so he could find out what he had fallen on, although he had a pretty good idea already.

A piano stared innocently up at his as he looked down upon it, reminding him of the time he'd seen it before. It certainly was a good model, better than the ones he'd seen at McKinley and he ached to find out what it sounded like. The time he'd been in the auditorium before, he had looked but never touched. Now he wondered if he'd be able to. There was nobody about so he definitely had the opportunity, just did he have the willpower? Slowly, he reached out a tentative hand and struck a chord, listening to the sound as it echoed around the space. He moved it up a bit on the notes, hitting another. Carefully he placed his other hand on the piano, playing a light scale. Kurt let out a quiet giggle as the music drifted to his ears and immediately stopped, covering his mouth as he looked around to see if anyone had heard.

Nobody came, after all, if they didn't hear when he was playing, how we're they to hear when his laugh was quieter than the instrument? He moved his hands along the piano again, playing the scale until his voice began to accompany it under his breath, slowly gaining in pitch as his confidence grew. Although he didn't expect it to be from not being used, his voice wasn't out of tune and Kurt actually enjoyed using it again, especially for something he enjoyed. The grin that covered his face could be easily heard as he sung along lightly. After a quarter of an hour of playing the same tune, the teen's fingers began to dance along other keys to form the notes of a song he recognised.

Kurt bit his tongue, considering his options before he was swept away by the music and began to sing, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oh yeah, I'll tell you something

I think you'll understand

When I'll say that something

I wanna hold your hand

The song reminded him of his mum's funeral- he had gripped his dad's hand all day then. Ever since, it would make him feel better. He hadn't seen his father in months now and, although they texted, his missed him desperately. Pictures were never as good as the real thing.

Oh please, say to me

You'll let me be your man

And please, say to me

You'll let me hold your hand

I'll let me hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand

And when I touch you I feel happy

Inside

It's such a feeling that my love

I can't hide

Yeah, you've got that something

I think you'll understand

When I'll say that something

I wanna hold your hand

A tear dripped down his cheek without his permission and Kurt hastily wiped it away. He wouldn't let himself cry.

And when I touch you I feel happy

Inside

It's such a feeling that my love

I can't hide

Yeah, you've got that something

I think you'll understand

When I'll feel that something

I wanna hold your hand

Kurt froze at the end of the song, jumping to his feet, making the piano stool fall over. Trembling, he stared over at the door which was shaking loudly on its hinges as someone tried the lock from the outside.

"Hello? Who's in there?"