Welcome to another installment of Wake. Your reviews are truly wonderful! We have some Klaine AND Brittana action for you tonight!
Disclaimer: I honestly do not own Glee or Wake.
Words: 7,335
Previously on Wake:
"Kurt, can I talk to you for a minute?" The teacher asks him. Kurt gets up and walks over to the desk.
"Yes?" he asks her.
"Some of the boys have expressed that they are uncomfortable being in the same room as you because you are gay."
"That's an understatement." He says clearly, waiting for her to finish her train of thought.
"Do you mind if you roomed with the girls?" she asks.
"Not at all, I rather be in a room full of girls than a bunch of homophobic Neanderthals." He replies. The teacher nods and dismisses him.
Kurt stealthily finishes his math assignment as the teacher drones about the upcoming weekend senior trip to Stratford.
Blaine's back is to him. He has an urge to touch his hair. If he could reach him, he might. But then he shakes his head at himself. He is very confused over his feelings about Blaine. It's more bizarre than flattering to know he dreams about him. Especially when he does it after being that horrid monster-man. Kurt may even admit to being a little afraid of him.
And now he knows where he lives.
Just two blocks from her.
In a tiny house on Waverly Road.
"Your room assignments," Mrs. Purcell drones, waving fluorescent yellow papers like sun rays above her head before tossing handfuls at the first person in each row. "No changes allowed, so don't even try."
Kurt looks up as titters and groans fill the room. The boy in front of him doesn't turn around to hand her the paper. He tosses it over his shoulder. It floats, hovers, and slides off the slick laminate desk before Kurt can grab it, whooshing and sticking under Blaine Anderson's shoe. He kicks it towards Kurt without acknowledgment. His hair swings lightly around his shoulders.
The list places Kurt in a room with three rich snobs from the ritzy Hill section of North Lima: Santana Lopez, who hates her, Santana's friend Brittany Pierce, who hates her by default, and the captain of the celibacy club, Quinn Fabray, who pretends Kurt doesn't exist. He sighs inwardly. He'll have to sleep on the bus on the way.
But he's curious to know if, after all these years, Santana still dreams about Rachel with ginormous boobs.
OH, CANADA
October 14, 2010, 3:30 A. M.
Kurt meets Rachel under the black sky in Rachel's driveway. They offer little greeting besides sleepy grins, and Kurt climbs into the passenger seat of Rachel's Tracer. They drive in silent darkness to school. Kurt's just glad he does not have to drive at this hour.
They pass Blaine Anderson when they get close to school. He's walking. Rachel slows and stops, rolls down the window.
"Hey, Anderson." She calls out to the boy.
Blaine looks up at her from where he was looking at the beaten up sidewalk.
"Yeah, Berry?" He asks her, spying Kurt in the passenger side next to Rachel.
"You want a ride?" She asks him, giving him one of her famous smiles.
He waves her off, saying, "Nah, no thanks. I'm almost there anyways." he says. Up ahead, the Greyhound bus gleams under the schools parking lot lights.
Kurt looks at Blaine. He catches Kurt's eye briefly and looks down. Kurt feels like shit.
Blaine and Kurt's non-fight in the parking lot began a long series of non-fights. Not only do they not fight, they no longer speak.
However, Kurt sees him. And Kurt kisses him, in his library dreams.
He also sees him, a raging maniac. A scarred-faced lunatic with knifes for fingers, who repetitively stabs, slices, and beheads one middle-aged man, over and over and over again. He feels only slight relief that he doesn't kill anyone else.
Not yet, anyway.
Not him, so far.
And every time he dreams it, the bell rings before Kurt can figure out how to help him. Help him do what? Help him, how?
He has no idea. He has no power. Why do all these people ask him for help? He can't do it.
Just.
Cant.
Do it.
But he sure doesn't get much done in study hall these days.
3:55 A. M.
The over sleepers, latecomers, and don't-give-a-shitters have either arrived or been written off by the teacher chaperones. Rachel sits with Santana and Brittany, near the front.
Kurt sits in the last row on the right, next to the window. As far away from everyone as he can get. He stows his overnight bag in the compartment above his seat. He is glad to note that the restroom is at the front of the bus. He twists the overhead TV monitor so its blue glow does not blind him, and puts his seat back. It only goes a little way before it hits the back wall.
Before the bus is loaded, Kurt is dozing.
4:35 A. M.
He is jarred awake by a splash of water in his face. He's in a lake, fully clothed. He shivers. A boy named Artie Abrams is yelling as he falls from the sky above Kurt, over and over and over, until he finally lands in the water. However, he cannot swim because Artie is in a wheel chair. He has been ever since they were seven. He witnessed the car crashing into his from the bus parking lot. He saw Artie being thrown from the car. Artie had nightmares for three years after the incident. Kurt knew everything from the dream. And he grew to take pity on the rich, crippled boy. His original wheelchair that he had to push was newly upgraded to the joystick operated one last year. Kurt feels his fingers growing numb, and he kicks out with his feet, trying to stop it, trying to get out.
And then it's done.
Kurt blinks, and sits up, startled. A shadowy face appears above the seat in front of him, it's Tina, Artie's friend. "You mind?" she says in a low voice. Kurt looks over the top of the seat and find Artie next to her, and Mike, Tina's boyfriend, on the seat across from them. Kurt must have kicked her which made Artie wake up.
"Sorry." Kurt whispers. His heart races. The drowning dreams are the worst. Well, almost.
He hears a whisper in his ear as he struggles to see clearly. "You okay, Hummel?" Blaine slips his arm around Kurt. He sounds worried. "You're shivering. Did you just have a seizure or something? Do you want me to stop the bus?"
Kurt looks at him. "Oh, hey." His voice is scratchy. "I didn't know you were there. Um.." He closes his eyes. Tries to think. Holds up a weak finger, letting him know he needs a moment. But he feels the next one coming already. He doesn't have much time. And he has to prepare Blaine. He doesn't have a choice.
"Blaine. Do not freak if- when- I do that again, okay? Do NOT stop the bus. Do NOT tell a teacher, oh God, no. No matter what." He grips the armrests and fights to keep his vision. "Can you trust me? Trust me and just let it happen?"
The pain of concentration is excruciating. He is cringing, holding his head. "Oh, fuckity-fuck fuck!" Kurt yells in a whisper. "This was a stupid, stupid idea for me to come on this trip. Please, Blaine. Help me. Don't let anyone gah! see me."
Blaine is gawking at Kurt. "Okay," he says. "Okay. Jesus."
But he is gone.
The dreams pelt him, from all directions, without ceasing. Kurt is on sensory overload. It's his own physical, mental, emotional, three-hour nightmare.
7:48 A. M.
Kurt opens his eyes. Someone is talking on a microphone.
When the fog fades and he can see again, finally, Blaine is staring at him. His eyes, his hair, are wild. His face is white. He is holding him around the shoulders.
Gripping him, is more like it.
He feels like crying, and he does, a little. He closes his eyes and doesn't move. Can't move. The tears leak out. Blaine wipes his cheeks gently with his thumb.
That makes him cry harder.
8:15 A. M.
The bus stops. They are parked in a McDonald's parking lot. Everyone files off the bus. Everyone except Kurt and Blaine.
"Go get some food." He urges in a tired whisper. His voice is still not back.
"No."
"Honestly. I'll be okay, now that everyone is gone."
"Kurt." Blaine says in a austere tone.
"Will you go and get me a breakfast sandwich then?" Kurt is still breathing hard. "I need to eat. Something. Anything. There's money in my right-hand coat pocket." The effort to move his arm seems too difficult.
Blaine looks at him. Blaine's eyes are weary. Bleary. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his eyes. He sighs deeply. "You sure you'll be okay? I'll be back in five minutes or less." He looks unwilling to leave Kurt.
He smiles a tired half smile. "I'll be fine. Please. I do not think I can stand up if I do not get something to eat soon. That was much, much worse than I expected."
Blaine hesitates, and then removes his arm from behind Kurt's shoulders. "I'll be back before you can say 'Harry Potter is the best wizard in the whole world' five times." He sprints off the bus. Kurt watches him out the window. He runs through the empty drive-through lane and taps on the microphone. Kurt smiles. What a dork. A Harry Potter dork at that.
He returns with a bag full of breakfast sandwiches, several orders of hash browns, coffee, orange juice, milk, and a chocolate shake."I wasn't sure what you'd want." he says, running a hand through his hair.
Kurt struggles a little and sits up with the help of Blaine. Kurt pours the juice down his throat and swallows until it's gone. He does the same with the milk.
"Can you chug beer like that?" Blaine teases.
He smiles, grateful he is not asking questions about his strange behavior. "I've never tried it with beer."
"That's probably wise." Blaine says with a chuckle.
"Have you?" He takes a bite of a sandwich.
"I don't really drink." He says smoothly.
"Not even a little, here and there?" Kurt asks, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.
"Nope." His face is straight.
He looks at him. "I thought you were a partier. Drugs?"
He hesitates for a split second. "Nada." He says.
"Wow. Well, you sure looked like hell for a couple years." Kurt says, then bites his tongue, he can't believe he just said that.
He is quiet. He smiles politely. "Thank you." He nods at Kurt's sandwich.
"Oh, sorry." Kurt says, grinning sheepishly, "Thank you, Blaine." Kurt says.
Blaine smiles, "Your welcome, Hummel."
Blaine stares at the seat in front of them while Kurt eats. Kurt hands him a sandwich and he takes it, unwraps it, and eats it slowly. They sit in silence.
Kurt belches loudly and quickly covers his mouth, his porcelain skin red.
Blaine looks at him and grins wide. "Jesus, Hummel. You should enter a contest." Kurt rolls his eyes in annoyance.
They share the chocolate shake.
8:35 A. M.
The other students board the bus in twos and threes. Some stand outside, sucking on cigarettes.
8:41 A. M.
The bus begins to move again.
"Now what?" asks Blaine. He has a look of concern around his eyes. He combs his hair with his fingers, and it feathers and falls again.
"If it happens again, don't worry." He shrugs helplessly." I don't know what to tell you. I promise I will explain this all when I can. Where are we, by the way?"
"We're getting close." He replies.
He rummages around in his pocket and produces a ten-dollar bill. "For breakfast." he says.
Blaine shakes his head and pushes it away. "Let me think of this as our first date, will you?"
He looks at him for a long moment. Feels his stomach flip. "Dapper, are we?" he says and he gives a small smile, "Thanks." Kurt says, and places the bill back into his pocket.
Blaine touches his cheek. "You look exhausted. Can you sleep?"
"Until somebody else does, I suppose."
His eyes turn weary again. "What does that mean, Kurt?" He puts his arm around his shoulders. Kurt rests his head against him and does not answer. In minutes, Kurt is sleeping gently. He takes Kurt's hand with his free hand and strings his fingers in his. Looks at Kurt's hands, and lays his cheek against his hair. After a while, he is asleep too.
9:16 A. M.
Kurt is outside, in the dark. He looks behind him, and the he is there. He walks around the shed this time, to see him coming.
Blaine looks normal, not a monster standing at the back door of a house, looking in. Then he slams the door and marches through the dry, yellow grass. The middle-aged man bursts out the door after him, yelling, standing on the step. He carries a rectangular can in one hand, a beer and a cigarette in the other.
"Faggot!" The man yells at Blaine, who stops in his tracks.
Blaine turns to face him, his face enraged. The man charges, and Blaine stands there, frozen. Waiting for the man to approach him. Waiting for the blow.
The man punches Blaine in the face and he goes down. He squirms on his back like a scared crab, trying to get away. The man points and squeezes the rectangular can, and liquid hits Blaine's shorts and shirt.
Then.
The man flicks his cigarette at Blaine.
Blaine ignites like the Goblet of Fire.
He flops around on the ground in flames.
Screaming, like a poor, tortured baby lion.
And then, Blaine transforms. He becomes the monster, and the fire is gone. His fingers grow knives and he looks scarily like Freddy Krueger. His body grows like the Incredible Hulk.
Kurt watches all this from around the corner of the shed. He does not want to see it. No more of it. Feeling so sick, so horrible for witnessing it. He turns around abruptly.
Standing behind him, watching her in horror, is Blaine.
The second.
9:43 A. M.
Kurt waits an eternity for his sight to clear. For the feeling to come back. He sits up, frantic. He reaches for Blaine.
Blaine is leaning over, his head in his hands.
He is shaking.
He turns to Kurt, his face enraged.
His voice is raspy. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" he demands.
Kurt does not know what to say. He is speechless. He did not know how Blaine even did that.
Blaine silent anger shakes the seats.
10:05 A. M.
Blaine does not speak until they arrive in Stratford. And then all he says is a harsh, "good luck." He gets off the bus and heads for his hotel room that he shares with Wesley, David, and Finn.
Kurt watches him go.
He closes his eyes, then opens them again, and follows the cheerleaders in the other direction to their room.
Once inside, they do not acknowledge one another.
Kurt's quite good with that.
2:00 P. M.
The students meet in the lobby. Camelot starts in thirty minutes. Kurt boards the bus, exhausted, and sits in the back row again.
Blaine doesn't show up.
2:33 P. M.
The play begins. Kurt excuses himself from his orchestra seat and finds a spot in the near-empty balcony. He sleeps soundly up there for three hours, awaking in the closing scene. He slips back down to the orchestra seats and follows the others back to the bus.
6:01 P. M.
The bus stops at Pizza Hut. They have one hour to eat before going back to the evening play.
Kurt grabs a Personal Pan to go, eats it on the bus, and sleeps. Sleeps right through the play, in his backseat spot. Nobody seems to notice he did not get off the bus.
11:33 P. M.
The bus arrives, most kids exhausted, back at the hotel. Kurt falls into bed. He is numb, but not from anyone's dream. Not this time. He thinks about Blaine. Cries silently in his pillow in the dark room. The heat register hums loudly. Quinn, the president of the Celibacy Club, collapses on the covers next to him. They do not speak. They hover at the edges of their bed.
October 15, 2010, 1:04 A. M. - 6:48 A. M.
Kurt jumps from one dream to another.
Brittany dreams of unicorns. Unicorns and a cat that is known to her and everyone as Lord Tubbington, whose eating fondue from a huge bowl. And wearing mittens on his feet. Brittany comes riding up to the cat on a unicorn in a pink saddle dressed in her cheerleading uniform.
"Now Lord Tubbington, you know if you eat too much fondue, there won't be enough for two and you'll get a belly ache. Santana wants fondue too. That's why we call it Fondue For Two, you ask the questions while Santana and I eat the fondue.
The cat stares blankly at her, "I'm sorry, Princess Brittany." The cat responds. Why is Kurt not surprised, of course her cat would talk to her in her dream.
"Britt!" Comes the excited shout of Santana. She's wearing her cheerleading uniform.
"San!" Comes Brittany's cheerful voice. Before she could get her unicorn to gallop towards her, a landslide begins, bringing both girls down. Kurt tries to pull out of the dream. He hates the falling dreams.
He pulls out, glad to be out. He has a moment to breathe and ponder the relationship of Brittany and Santana.
Until the switch to Santana.
Santana, no surprise, is having a sex dream. But what amazes him the most is that instead of Rachel as her partner as Kurt was expecting it to be, it's Brittany. They are lying on her bed, making out in their cheerleading skirts. He is able to pull out before more scissoring starts.
Kurt counts it as a major victory.
He hears Santana mumble something, "Britt." He hears her say.
"Hmm?" is the sleepy reply from the blonde girl.
"You want to go to the bathroom?" The Latina asks her.
"If you want sex Santana, what's wrong with this bed?" she asks her.
"Because, it will be weird with Prancy Smurf in the other bed. Gay or not, I am not having sex with you when he is in the same room. Last time I slept in the same room as him I got kicked in the boob." Kurt bit his lip to hold back his laughter.
"Okay." Brittany agrees, "I do so love your sweet lady kisses." She says. Kurt hears the creek of the bed springs as the weight of the two girls are removed and the close shutting of the bathroom door.
Then, Kurt is sucked into the dream of Quinn Fabray.
Quinn dreams about Blaine Anderson.
They are alone after a Celibacy Club meeting.
"So, Blaine, are you doing anything after this?" Quinn asks, coming up to Blaine and standing in front of him.
"Only you." Blaine says and he pushes her to the ground, their hips grinding together.
The dream changes and they are in the boys bathroom. Quinn is sitting on Blaine, both of them are naked, Blaine's jeans are in a pool at his ankles and Quinn's bra is discarded over the stall.
It changes again. Kurt feels like he's getting whiplash. He's trying desperately to pull out, but he can't. He hears a moan from the Quinn next to him. But he has already gone numb. God damn it Hummel! Get out! He commands himself. The dream changes again and they are in Quinn's room.
With as much of his strength as he can possibly manage, he kicks out his legs, hard, hearing the thump of Quinn as she topples to the floor.
"What the fuck Hummel!" She shouts, glaring at him with her viper eyes. "What was that for."
"You were having a nightmare, your twitching was driving me crazy!" he says.
"Whatever." She glares, giving him a death glare before climbing back under the covers and falling asleep again.
By morning, Kurt hates Quinn with all his heart. And he has very dark circles under his eyes.
8:08 A. M.
Brittany, Santana, and Quinn head down to breakfast. The matinee is at 10:00.
"See you on the bus." Kurt says, even though he is starving. The other girls don't bother to answer. Kurt rolls his eyes.
He takes a shower, wraps a towel around his waist and another on his head, and falls back into the bed. He sets the alarm for noon. The bus will be back for the luggage, and the students who didn't elect to take in a third play, at 1 P. M.
8:34 A. M.
Kurt dreams for the second time in his life. He dreams that he is alone, drowning in a dark lake, and Blaine is on the shore with a rope, but he won't throw it to him. He waves frantically to him, and Blaine cannot see him. Kurt slips under the water slowly. Under the water, he sees others like him. Babies, children, teens, adults. All of them floating just under the surface of the water, no one able to help.
It's because they're all dead.
Their eyes bulge.
He is screaming when the alarm goes off. His towel has fallen off his head, and his hair is a huge mess, he would have to comb it out again. He can't see beyond it.
There is an urgent knock on the door. Kurt gets up, straightens out his towel and goes to the door and opens it.
And it's Blaine.
He's holding a bag of food.
Looking mournful.
He pushes past Kurt into the room, closes the door and locks it, takes his hand, and holds him. He is pleading. "I don't understand," he says."I just don't understand. Why did you do that to me?" He's broken.
And so is Kurt. "I can explain." Kurt says. And he buries his face in Blaine's shirt and cries. "Just get me home." He says.
They fall on the bed, and they just hold each other quietly.
That's all they do.
And then, it's time to go home.
2:00 P. M.
Kurt and Blaine are in the back seats again. Brittany and Santana sit in front of them. Across the aisle, Rachel sits with Finn. She's talking up a storm, being her usual talkative self.
In front of Rachel and Finn is Quinn, or at least her baggage. Quinn appears to be furiously ignoring Kurt. She tries to strike up a conversation with Blaine by sitting on the aisle floor, next to him. Blaine is cool and mildly disinterested.
This makes Quinn try harder.
Rachel and Finn turn sideways in their seats to chat. Blaine makes small talk and jokes, while Kurt looks out the window. Blaine slips his hand into Kurt's.
The other girls notice.
Rachel winks. Brittany's eyes glow as she slightly nudges Santana.
Quinn shifts in the aisle and leans against Blaine's leg, batting her eyelashes madly. Frighteningly.
At the front of the bus, kids are roaming around and laughing, singing, chattering. Awake and buzzing. Kurt slips into a grateful coma, his head propped against the window.
7:31 P. M.
They are back at McKinley High School. Blaine shakes Kurt awake, gently. Kurt sits up, wondering where he is. Blaine grins at him. "You made it." he whispers. He gathers their bags and follows Kurt off the bus. He walks with him to Rachel's car.
"Come on, Blaine." Rachel says. "Let me give you a ride, at least. Unless you want Quinn to. Hey, here she comes now." Rachel titters, her eyes dancing.
Blaine's eyes grow wide, quickly looking behind him to see Quinn riding up to him in his car. He slips into the backseat of Rachel's car without a word. "Get me out of here. Fuckin' creepy cheerleaders."
Rachel laughs. She pulls out of the parking lot and eases onto the road ahead of the pack, and turns to Blaine. "So where do you live?"
"Waverly. Two blocks straight east of your house. But I'll walk from Kurt's, if you don't mind. Kurt has a superstition about my street."
"What the hell?" Rachel snorts.
Kurt laughs." Nothing! Shut up, Blaine."
Rachel pulls into her driveway. It's cool outside. Crisp. The harvest moon shines orange on Ethel's roof in the Hummel driveway. Rachel grabs her things and yawns. "I'm turning in. Catch you guys later." She clops to her front door and lets herself in, waving as she closes the screen door.
Kurt takes his bag and waves to Rachel. He looks at Blaine. It feels awkward, now that they are in Kurt's front yard. They walk to his door. "Can you come in for a bit?" Kurt asks, trying not to sound anxious.
"Sure," Blaine says, his voice relieved. "I, uh, figure we have some things to talk about. Are the 'rents home?"
"My mother's probably passed out in her bedroom. That's it, just me and her."
"Cool," he says, but he gives Kurt an understanding look.
They go inside. There is no sign of Kurt's mother, except for an empty fifth of vodka on the kitchen counter and a sink full of dishes. Kurt throws the bottle in the trash. "Sorry about the mess." he says in a low voice. Kurt is embarrassed. The house was spotless when he left it yesterday morning.
"Forget about it. We can clean it up later, if you want." Blaine says, shrugging.
Kurt waves his hand at the living room. "Well. This is it." He says.
"You sleep out here, huh?" He isn't teasing.
"No, I have a bedroom. Come." He shows him. It's sparse and neat.
"Nice," he says. Blaine glances at the bed, and then abruptly turns around and they walk back to the living room.
"Hungry?" Kurt asks him.
"My stomach's growling," he says.
"Let me see if we have anything." Kurt searches the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator and comes up empty-handed. "Good grief," he says finally. "I'm sorry." Kurt turns around. "We've got nothing."
Blaine has been watching him, Kurt realizes.
"Maybe we could get a pizza." He suggests.
"Sounds good."
"You want to go out?" Blaine asks him.
Kurt sighs and scratches his head. "Not really."
"Good. Let's order delivery."
Kurt finds the number for Pizza Hut and orders. "Thirty minutes." Kurt tells him.
Blaine tosses a twenty-dollar bill on the coffee table and sits down.
"Blaine." Kurt says, arms folded.
"Yes."
"What is that?" Kurt asks, pointing to the twenty dollars on the table with a nod of his head.
"It's twenty dollars, Hummel."
Kurt sighs. "Let's be truthful with each other here, mmmkay?"
"Of course. Our whole relationship is based on it. Right?" Blaine's smiling sardonically, and looks down.
Kurt cringes as the words hang ominously in the room. "Look, I'm sorry." he begins. "I have a lot of explaining to do. But I know you don't have any more money to spare than I do. So how about I pay for this?"
"No. Next question."
Kurt sits down next to him. Shakes his head. "Fine," he says, giving up. He draws his legs up under him and turns to face him.
"Okay," he continues. "How did you get in the dream twice?"
He looks away, and then back to Kurt.
"Well, let's just jump right into it, then." Blaine says,
"I guess."
"All right, uh, I guess the answer is, I have No. Fucking. Clue. Oh, and just let me know when it's my turn to ask a few questions. Because I'd like to know how the hell you. Got into. My dream. Hello."
Kurt blushes. "Some of your dreams are kind of great."
"Oh, really." Blaine leans forward and catches Kurt's chin. Catches him by surprise. He pulls Kurt towards him and traces his cheekbone with his thumb. And then, he puts his lips on his own.
Kurt falls into the kiss. He closes his eyes and slips his hand to the base of his neck. They explore the kiss for a moment, sweetly. Blaine digs his fingers into Kurt's hair and he pulls him closer. But, before it grows any stronger, Kurt pulls away. He feels like his limbs are rubber.
"Shit," Kurt sputters. "You, you.." He stutters.
Blaine smiles lazily, his lips still wet. "Yes?"
"I thought you were straight." Kurt says dumbly.
"Nah, I'm just about as gay as you are." He says.
"Well," Kurt says, his face even more red, "you kiss better than I imagined. Even in-" he trails off, not meaning to say that in the first place
Blaine blinks. "No," he says. "No, no, no. Don't even tell me you've been there."
Kurt bites his lip. "Well, maybe if you stopped sleeping during study hall, I wouldn't have a clue."
"Good God!" he says. "Is nothing sacred? Sheesh." He turns away, embarrassed. "Maybe you should start from the beginning."
Kurt sighs and leans back against the couch. It was like reliving the dreams. Again.
"The short version? I get sucked into people's dreams. I can't help it. I can't stop it. It's driving me crazy." Kurt says.
Blaine gives him a long look. "Okay, um, how exactly? That's just bizarre."
"I don't know."
"Is this a recent thing?" Blaine asks.
"No. The first one I remember, I was eight."
"So, in that dream, my dream, where I'm standing behind you, watching myself in." He holds his head. "Okay, so that's how you see the dreams, right? Like I saw mine. While I was dreaming it. Ughh." He rubs his temples.
"That was weird, huh," Kurt says softly. "I know this is all really weird. And I'm sorry."
There's a knock at the door. Kurt jumps up, relieved. He grabs the twenty and goes to answer it.
Kurt sets the pizza and a two-liter of Coke on the coffee table and goes into the kitchen for a beer, glasses, napkins, and paper plates. Kurt pours the Coke for Blaine and clips open the beer. He takes a sip as Blaine grabs some pizza.
"Now. Tell me what else you've seen in my dreams, before I get really paranoid." Blaine says.
"Okay," he says, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Kurt takes another sip and begins. We're behind that shed or barn of some sort. Is that your backyard?" Kurt asks.
Blaine nods his head still chewing on his pizza. He takes a quick sip of his Coke, "Yeah." He says.
"Up until yesterday, I've seen you as the monster-man-thing." Kurt cringes, not sure what to name it, "that monster in the house. The kitchen. With the chair. That one was purely coincidental I didn't even know it was you, dreaming it. Not until later. It was sort of a drive-by thing."
He closes his eyes, cringes, and sets his pizza down on the plate.
"That was you," he says slowly. "I knew I had seen your car before. I thought you were someone else." He pauses, lost in thought. "The yard, oh God your so-called superstition. Damn. So." He sits up, hands paused in midair, eyes closed. Thinking. Processing.
And then he turns and stares at Kurt. "You could have totally crashed."
"I didn't think anybody saw me."
"The headlights, your headlights. That's what woke me up. They were shining in my window. Jesus Christ, Kurt."
"Your bedroom window must have been open. Otherwise, it would not have happened. At least, I think so. I had no idea it was your house."
He sits back, shaking his head slightly as he puts the pieces together. "Okay," he says. "Get to the good part before I completely lose my appetite."
"Behind the shed. You walk up to me. Touch my face. Kiss me. I kiss you back."
He's silent.
"That's it," Kurt says, taking a long sip from his beer.
Blaine regards him carefully. "That's it?"
"Yes. I swear. I mean, it was a good kiss, though."
He nods, lost in thought. "Damn bell always rings then, doesn't it?"
Kurt smiles. "Yeah." He pauses, wondering if he should mention the part where Blaine asks him to help him, but Blaine's on to the next thing.
"So when I found you on the desk in the library a few weeks ago, and it took you a while to sit up, what was that? You weren't asleep, were you."
"No." Kurt responds.
"That was a bad one?"
"Yeah. Real bad."
Blaine puts his head in his hands and takes off his glasses. He rubs his eyes. "Jesus," he says. "I remember that one." He keeps his head down, and Kurt waits. "So that's why you said when I asked you if you had a bad dream," he murmurs.
"I wanted to know if you knew I was there, watching. Even when people talk to me in their dreams, no one seems to remember that part. No one ever mentions it, anyway."
"I don't recall ever seeing you there, or talking to you except when I'm actually dreaming about you," he muses. "Kurt," he says abruptly. "What if I don't want you to see it?"
Kurt grabs a slice of pizza. "I'm working hard, trying to bust my way out of them, the dreams. I do not want to be a voyeur, honestly, I can't help it. It is almost impossible. So far, anyway. However, I am making a little progress. Slowly, but surely." He pauses. "If you don't want me to see your dreams, I guess you shouldn't sleep in the same room as me."
Blaine looks up at him with a sly smile. "But I'm known for sleeping in school. It's my shtick."
"You can change your schedule. Or I can change mine. I'll do whatever you want." Kurt looks at the uneaten pizza and sets his plate down. He is miserable.
"Whatever I want," he says.
"Yes."
"I'm afraid you haven't been privy to that dream yet." Blaine says with a wink.
Kurt looks at him. Blaine is looking at him, and Kurt grows warm. "Maybe I'd rather experience that first hand." Kurt says lightly, grinning wide.
"Mmmm." He takes a sip of his soda. "But before this goes off track. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Kurt's silent. Not looking at him.
"And," he says, "Jesus. It just occurred to me why you freaked when I pretended I wasn't me. You must be a freaking mess, Hummel." He tugs Kurt's arm, and he falls back on the couch toward him. He kisses the top of his head. "I can't begin to tell you how bad I felt about that."
"It's cool," Kurt says.
"Sorry about the flagrant foul." Blaine adds.
"S'all right." Kurt replies as Blaine twirls a strand of his hair with his finger. "So, when do you sleep, like, normally?"
Kurt smiles ruefully." Normally, I sleep fine, if I'm alone in a room. When I was thirteen, I finally asked my mother if she would do me the favor of passing out in her bedroom rather than in here. There's something about a closed door that blocks it." He pauses.
"But what happens, exactly?" Blaine pesters.
Kurt closes his eyes. "My vision goes first. I can't see around me. I'm trapped. If it's a bad dream, a nightmare, I guess I start to shake and my fingers go numb first, then my feet, and the worse the nightmare is, the more paralyzed I become."
Blaine looks at him. "Kurt." he says softly.
"Yes."
He strokes Kurt's hair. "I thought you were dying. You shake, you spasm, your eyes roll back in your head. I was ready to steal the nearest cell phone, stick a wallet in your mouth, and call 911."
Kurt is silent for a long time. "It's not as bad as it looks." He says.
"You're lying."
Kurt looks at him. "Yes," he says. "I suppose I am."
"Who else knows? Your mother?"
Kurt looks at his plate of uneaten pizza. Shakes his head. "Nobody. Not even her."
"You haven't been to a doctor about it or anything?"
"No. Not really. Not for help."
He throws his hands in the air. "Why?" His voice is incredulous. And then, suddenly, he knows why. "Sorry." he says.
Kurt doesn't answer. He's thinking. Thinking hard.
"You know, nobody's ever gone there with me, like you did." His voice is soft, musing. Kurt gives him a sidelong glance. "I don't understand that part. How did you get there too?"
"I don't know. All of a sudden it was like I had two different angles to watch from: one of them as an observer, the other as a participant. Like virtual reality picture-in-picture or something."
"And don't even tell me you'd believe a word of this if you hadn't come through it with me."
He nods soberly. "You're right, Hummel."
Its 10:21 P. M. when Blaine says good night at the door. He leans against the frame, and Kurt kisses him lightly on the lips.
Blaine hops off the step and starts walking home, but turns back in the driveway. "Hey, can I see you tomorrow night? Sometime around nine or ten?"
Kurt nods, smiling. "I'll be here. Just let yourself in. Rachel always does too. It's cool."
Blaine nods and heads in the direction towards home. Kurt closes the door and slides down it. He is grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
That's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to go vote on my poll if you want Rachel and Jesse or Rachel and Finn as a pairing.
We also have two illustrations that I made to go with this chapter! Just take out the spaces and place a . in the (dot) section.
Blaine ordering at McDonalds: http:/ buddygirl1004(dot)deviantart(dot)com /#/ d4xslmg
and
Their first Kliss: http:/ buddygirl1004(dot)deviantart(dot)com /#/ d4xuywl
I do so hope you enjoyed it! Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter by clicking the little blue button at the bottom of the page.
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