Eighteen Again
Chapter Four
Due to Kurt's complete lack of a plan for that first day, the two ended up lazing around the cafe. Wes didn't seem to mind, luckily enough. He had told them as they left that as long as they didn't bother anyone they could practically live there.
When school finally rolled around, Blaine exited his crappy abode to see Kurt, bouncing anxiously on his heels from where he stood on the other side of the road. It took everything in Blaine not to roll his eyes. He strode over to Kurt, hands buried deep in his pockets. "What are you? My escort?"
Kurt's gaze innocently landed on a tree down the road. "What ever do you mean?" He finally looked at Blaine. "Eighteen days. It's a thing now."
"A thing?"
"Yes—a thing."
When they arrived at the school, it took Blaine much longer than it should to remember all of his classes. Kurt didn't appear remotely apologetic when he rolled his eyes and scoffed. Eventually, Blaine remembered his necessary academic courses, and Kurt said to just skip whatever elective he had and go to glee with him. Blaine wasn't remotely apologetic when he made a vomiting gesture to Kurt.
"That's what you get for giving me this chance," Kurt loftily retorted, "not that I'm ungrateful."
Blaine sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just go."
Kurt barked a laugh. "It's just a few classes, Blaine. Nothing that'll leave lasting damage."
Blaine pretended he didn't see Kurt's eyes drift to his arm.
His teachers were shocked when Blaine stumbled into his classes, each of them greeted with some explicative. They didn't stop him because he actually showed up, but he saw the way they would stiffen and a frown would appear. In all of them, he sat, lax and bored, in the back of the classroom, eyes drifting from pathetic face to pathetic face before landing back on the board where the generic font that all teachers had spread across it along with crude drawings that every teacher drew before proclaiming that they "weren't an artist." No fucking way.
Glee arrived quicker than Blaine thought it would, and he didn't have much of a choice but do as Kurt told him and sit where Kurt made him. He had to listen to insufferable Nose Girl and Teen Giant sing stupid love songs to each other, and he speculated the look of happiness and pride in Kurt's eyes when a black girl with surprisingly stunning vocals took over. What was the most shocking, however, was when Kurt stood and took Blaine's hand in a death grip, yanking him out of his seat and guiding him to the front of the room.
"This is Blaine," Kurt said, voice ringing and clear. "He'll be with us for the next week or so." When Blaine opened his mouth to complain, Kurt squeezed his hand even tighter, mouthing a harsh, "eighteen days," to him. He smiled back at the room when Blaine huffed but nodded. "And I've prepared a song for him."
Oh.
Blaine was perfectly ready to end this eighteen days thing now, but then Kurt was shoving him into an empty chair in the front of row, and his cerulean eyes practically glowed with determination. "Now," Kurt said after stepping away from Blaine, "this isn't normally my song style or choice, but it's started to hold a lot of meaning."
"Kurt, you really should've thought this through," Blaine could feel the fear and anxiety building up in him, and he just wanted to leave. "I don't want a song."
"But, Blaine," Kurt's eyes were wide, "you promised."
"I promised you days, Kurt," Blaine's voice was firm, but he knew it would break, "not actions. I never promised to stay."
"Blaine," Kurt sounded small, "let me do this."
Everyone else in the room was silent, even Mr Stuck in the Eighties. All eyes were on him. He sighed. "Just this one time."
Kurt's eyes widened as a smile found its home on his lips. "Thank you." He focused back on the other students. "This isn't my usual, but it holds just as much meaning as my usual would." He closed his eyes, and his voice was soft when he began to sing: "He wakes up early today, throws on a mask that will alter his face…."
Blaine's breath caught in his throat, and he knew he probably would start to look like a tomato soon. He could feel heat creeping up his neck as Kurt continued. "He pretends that he's okay, but you should see, oh, him in bed, late at night," his eyes met Blaine's suddenly, and it was as if he had been punched, "he's petrified."
Kurt's voice crescendoed. "Take me out, and finish this waste of a life!" His shoulders shook the tiniest bit, and it reflected in his singing as he carried on: "Everyone gather around for a show. Watch as this man disappears as we know. Do me a favor and try to ignore as you watch him fall through a bleeding trapdoor."
Blaine wouldn't—he couldn't show emotion. At least not in front of the glee clubbers whom he hardly knew. But Kurt persevered, and he practically trembled as he sang, "nothing kills a man faster than his own head." Blaine knew this song would be stuck with him until the end of his days. Hazel met glasz, and Blaine was locked in place, staring at Kurt as the countertenor continued. "He used to see dreams at night, but now he's just watching the backs of his eyes. And he pretends that he's okay," at this, Kurt walked towards Blaine and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, "but you should see him in bed, late at night." He leaned closer. "He's petrified."
Blaine was definitely shaking now. It wasn't Kurt's little tremors as he poured his emotion into the song. Blaine had nothing to focus on but the words and Kurt's voice. He had to face his emotions. He wanted to scream, and he was grateful to hear the quieter ending: "Everyone gather around for a show. Watch as this man disappears as we know. Do me a favor and try to ignore when you watch him fall through a bleeding trapdoor."
Kurt paused suddenly to take a quiet breath. "'Cause nobody knows he's alive."
Then Blaine ran.
He heard a startled shout from Kurt behind him as a set of rapid footsteps joined his, and he heard the sudden chaos that took over the glee club, but neither of those stopped him. He just kept running. He had to get out of there. Everything was too confining. If he hadn't been claustrophobic, or if he hadn't known, he was sure of it now.
He thought he had left Kurt and the club behind, but then there was a strong hand gripping his shoulder, and a tired voice in his ear: "Please stop running."
There was a part of him that wanted to fight, a part of Blaine that wanted to rip Kurt's hand off of his shoulder and yell at him to fuck off, to leave him alone for the rest of time, to disappear and not come back, but instead he collapsed. He slowly and shakily got on his knees and just collapsed. His breathing was ragged and torn, and a cough or two fell past his lips. He felt kind of gross just laying there on the floor like that, but he knew if he tried to stand he's probably faint or vomit or something a bit too ridiculous for him to handle. He felt Kurt's hand, warm and soothing, rub up and down his back, and he could hear soft humming come from the teen too. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," came out before he could stop himself; though, his voice was muffled by his hands and Kurt didn't speak or acknowledge the apology in anyways.
Or Blaine thought he hadn't, but then the rubbing stuttered, and there was a twitch in Kurt's hand. A soft, "What for?" sounded in the hallway.
Blaine shrugged despite the slight aching in his shoulders. "Running away, agreeing to your stupid eighteen days, coming to school, existing. A lot of things."
There was some rustling, and then a knee brushed his cheek, and Blaine deduced that Kurt had taken a careful seat next to him. "You'd be dead today, you know."
That made Blaine look at Kurt. Except he only got a face full of knee. He groaned and sat up properly, imitating Kurt's crossed legs. "Yes, I would be. I still could end up dead today too."
Kurt's breathing hitched before he nodded. "I never thought about the rest of today. Are you going to … do it?"
Blaine stared intently at the other boy. He inspected the long and dark shadows that fell on Kurt's face caused by his lashes, and he studied the pink hue of his lips and how soft and velvety they looked, and he inquired the milky and smooth paleness of his skin, and when Kurt turned to meet his gaze, he searched the deep teal depths better known as Kurt's eyes. When he broke the connection, the concept of breathing came back to him. His eyes stayed locked on a locker down the hall when he answered. "I don't know."
The same warm hand that's been starting to follow him covered his own. He looked back at Kurt again. Kurt didn't seem that expressive, but Blaine suddenly knew every emotion in those eyes. Fear being a large one. "Please don't," Kurt whispered, and, not that he would ever admit it, those words spoken from that person got the gears turning in Blaine's head and made him start actually questioning whether offing himself was really worth it.
DISCLAIMER: Any characters that seem to be associated with the television series Glee belong to the show's producers, directors and the actors portraying the characters. (Mainly Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson, portrayed by Chris Colfer and Darren Criss.) The song used in this is "Trapdoor" by the band twenty one pilots from their 2009 self-titled album, twenty one pilots. It belongs solely to Tyler Joseph, Chris Salih, and Nick Thomas.
Not disclaimer but still sort of pertaining to it: No, Chris and Nick aren't in the band anymore. Josh Dun is. And Josh Dun is the Josh Sun.
Okay, it's not that the last chapter seemed rush; I just felt like the ending was abrupt and a bit weird. I'm not going to fix it unless I do a rewrite, but...
Right, so this chapter is not my favorite at all. It seemed rushed, choppy, and generally poorly written, but I hope it's good enough to hold everyone over until chapter five. I will say that this was pretty much written right before it's upload, with very little revising and editing done. Yeah. Definitely not the best chapter. But I hope you all enjoy it, and I will try—TRY—to begin chapter five ASAP.
Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you all had a good weekend! xx
Emma Wants a Warbler
