A/N: Some major plot coming up here. Like, MAJOR.
The next few days pass in something of an awkward haze. They barely talk about personal matters at all, instead only conversing over the blood farm charts that Kurt had dug up before. They'd managed to narrow down the choices of the many 'Anderson's' to three subjects using the physical descriptions given with their name. The three chosen may as well be identical twins according to the charts, all of them having dark brown hair, green to hazel eyes, and freckles. They are all said to be eleven years of age as well, much to Blaine dismay.
"Why couldn't they have put more information on these things? These girls could be completely opposite in real life for all we know. I could be focusing on some random person right now and not my sister. Kurt, are you sure we found all the possible candidates? Maybe we skipped one."
And Blaine would go back and systematically check the lists for the third, fourth, fifth time in a row, scouring them for any more possibilities, any more hope of finding his family. Each time he would be presented with the same end result of the three twins-on-paper.
"I…I just wanted to be sure," Blaine would mumble after setting the charts back down again. He'd say it quietly, as if only to himself, as a justification of his insanity. "Just to be sure…just to be sure…"
Kurt would listen with concerned sadness.
On the morning Kurt sees Blaine checking the lists again for what has to be the tenth time, he decides to try and talk to him, to help to him ease whatever it is that is plaguing his mind. Awkwardness aside, Kurt is Blaine's friend, and Blaine deserves support.
"Hey," Kurt says as he walks into the open doorway of his closet. Blaine is sitting cross legged on his mattress, the files spread out in front of him along with at least five pieces of scrap paper all covered in nonsensical scribbles. The boy mouths silent words to himself, his brow pulled together permanently while the curls of his hair stick up in haphazard, gravity-defying clumps. Kurt waits for a response, but Blaine doesn't seem to hear him.
"Hey," Kurt repeats. Blaine snaps out of his trance and looks up confusedly, allowing Kurt a full view of his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles framing them, stormy gray in comparison to the pale pallor of his cheeks.
"Yes?" Blaine asks. Even his voice sounds cracked and tired.
Kurt eyes him warily, unsure of whether or not to press the matter seeing Blaine in his current state. In the end, he decides to try anyway.
"Blaine…is everything okay?" Kurt ventures cautiously. Blaine blinks twice and tilts his head to the side.
"Of course everything is okay. Why wouldn't it be okay? I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
Blaine answers almost too quickly, his words meshing together in one long statement that Kurt struggles to dissect and interpret.
"Blaine, how long have you been looking at those charts? Did you sleep at all last night?"
There is a long pause and just before Kurt asks again in the assumption that the boy didn't hear him, Blaine opens his mouth to speak. Except, this time Blaine's hands are shaking and his eyes are wide and terror filled and brimming with moisture. His voice quivers with a childlike fright that shoots icy currents of shock into Kurt's chest. The question had clearly broken through some sort of emotional barricade. Immediately, Kurt crouches down in front of his friend and pulls him into a hug, but even his gesture isn't enough to calm the boy, and Blaine continues his babbling in an unending stream.
"I don't think I slept, no, but this is more important, Kurt, because my sister is out there in some farm somewhere and I'm sitting here doing nothing to help her because I don't even know where she is right now and if I don't find her soon, I don't know what will happen, and it will be all my fault, and all I can think about is 'Oh my god, what if I didn't see her name on the list?', and I can't even imagine what would happen if I went to find her using the three that we already picked and none of them was her and I would be back to square one and she would still be held captive getting the life drained out of her, and oh god, she's only eleven, Kurt, how could they do this to her? what did she do to deserve this? it's all my fault, I should have been there to protect her, I should have saved her, Kurt, what have I done? it's all my fault, it's all my fault, all my fault, all my…"
Kurt waits patiently as Blaine breaks down and his lightning fast speech is replaced with silent, strangled sobs. He wraps his arms around Blaine tighter and rests his chin on the boy's wild curls.
"It's okay; my parents and my brother just left. You don't have to hold it in," Kurt murmurs soothingly. Blaine's breath catches once or twice before he lets loose a whimper and begins to cry much more audibly. After a few minutes pass of nothing more than Blaine's sobs and Kurt's gentle rocking back and forth, Kurt makes the conscious decision that he will skip school and stay home. Leaving Blaine alone like this would be nothing short of cruel.
Blaine's erratic breaths begin to calm after a while and his tears fall in less rapid succession. Kurt doesn't recall when exactly he'd starting rubbing Blaine's back in an attempt at comforting him, but he keeps doing it in hopes that it might help, that Blaine might find some sort of protection in it.
"K-Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine stutters, his voice muffled fabric of Kurt's shirt. Kurt lifts his chin off Blaine's head and looks down at him sadly.
"What are you sorry for? You've done nothing wrong." Kurt replies softly. "There was nothing you could have done, Blaine. If you had tried to stop them, they would've taken you too, and you wouldn't have had any chance of saving her."
"I…I know but…it's not that…" Blaine whispers. Kurt scrunches his brow in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Blaine looks up at Kurt with unsure eyes.
"It's…about what you heard…a few days ago…"
Kurt stiffens in surprise and a faint blush creeps onto his cheeks. Blaine, who only notices Kurt's body language, misinterprets the reaction as disgust and looks down ashamedly, new tears forming in his eyes. He tries to move out of Kurt's hug but the taller boy holds him there even tighter, refusing to release him.
"Hey hey, whoa…" Kurt exclaims, "Blaine there's nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?"
Blaine hesitates before glancing back up again, and when he does, his expression holds a faint twinge of hope along with the uncertainty. Kurt gives a small smile before continuing.
"I mean…yes, I was a little surprised; I won't lie. I just…" Kurt falls silent for a second to choose his words carefully. "I'm not used to being treated that way, I guess. Nobody to my knowledge has ever thought of me like that. Back in Ohio, I was the outcast in my school. I was bullied for my sexuality every day." Kurt grimaces as flashes of his past rush to the forefront of his mind. The, horrid nicknames, the beatings, the dreaded slushies; they all mark a time period of his life he's dubbed 'The Dark Ages.' With a sigh, Kurt shoves the memories to the back of his mind where they belong.
"The outbreak hasn't exactly changed the people's view on homosexuality either, mind you. Yes, being in New York has changed things a lot for me; in general, I'm much more accepted than I was in my old home, but that doesn't mean it's all hunky dory. I've dated a couple guys, but they broke up with me on the account that I have as much sex appeal as a baby penguin." Kurt chuckles, though his tone shelters a bit of hurt. "So…when I heard you…and realized it was about me…I guess I was a little shocked."
Blaine stares openly at Kurt for quite a while before timidly asking, "So, you don't hate me? You're not mad?"
Kurt's eyes soften reassuringly.
"Blaine, I'm more flattered than offended. Don't worry about it okay?"
Blaine's lips pull up into a smile and the moisture that remains in his eyes glitters with relived happiness. He wraps his arms around Kurt's torso and hugs him vehemently, breathing a contented sigh.
"Thank god," he mumbles, and Kurt laughs.
The two stay that way for a few more seconds before Blaine speaks again, his voice soft and tender against Kurt's shoulder.
"I…I really like you Kurt," he admits. There is a moment of deliberation before Blaine pipes up again. "And trust me…you're not a baby penguin."
Kurt blinks a few times and stares at the wall behind Blaine's head.
"R…Really? You…like me?" he whispers. He feels the boy nod against him, feels the soft, dark curls brush against the side of his neck, smells the calming, familiar scent of what can only be described as Blaine as it rushes past his nose.
Kurt's mind swirls in thought and, in less than a half of a moment, in less the time it takes for Blaine's unique heartbeat to finish one of its nervous pounds, he has a response. It seems so obvious now, it's funny. Kurt lets loose a warm chuckle and smiles.
"I really like you too, Blaine."
Rather than responding with words, Blaine tightens his arms around Kurt's torso. Kurt hears him sigh happily and feels an electrical rush as the warm air collides with his skin.
"And thanks for saying I'm not a penguin," Kurt adds to lighten atmosphere a little, fighting back another laugh. "That means a lot to me."
"No problem," Blaine responds, but his voice seems a bit choked. It's directly after this that Kurt feels cool, wet droplets hit his shoulder.
"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt asks, his voice panicked and stretched taut with concern. He pulls out of the hug and holds Blaine at shoulder length.
A cursory glance at the unbridled elation in Blaine's eyes, the brightness in them that gives the tears a whole new meaning, puts Kurt's fears at rest. Blaine's lips are pulled into a grin so wide it seems like it should hurt, but it doesn't appear to bother the boy in the slightest. Kurt swallows against the emotion building in his own throat and grins with him; Blaine's never looked so beautiful.
"Nothing, now." Blaine says simply. He reaches up and brushes his thumbs gently against Kurt jawbone, trailing his fingers across the soft, cool skin. The action is timid, nervous, but honest and sweet all the same. Kurt's stomach floods with flurries of heat and he fights to keep from giggling at the sudden surge of euphoria.
He see's Blaine's eyes flicker from his face to his mouth and, almost as if part of him was programmed to do this from the start, Kurt leans down and presses his lips soundly against Blaine's.
If he thought the brief contact from when they'd collided heads was good, he might as well be in heaven now.
Their mouths move against one another in slow synchronization as they both test this new exchange, each undulating movement sending jolts of current up and down Kurt's spine in an unending cycle. What starts slow begins to build in intensity like the feeding of a hot flame, and soon every prickle of feeling, every burst of want and heat, is more so. Blaine is first to take a breath and the sharp, needy gasp hits the deepest, hungriest part of Kurt like he's never experienced. The strength of it catches him off guard, but his small sound of surprise is cut short as Blaine repossesses his lips and pulls their bodies flush against each other, close enough that Kurt can feel the boy's harried heartbeat ricocheting off his own still, silent chest.
Blaine slides his right hand around the back of Kurt's head and up, his fingers curling and fisting in the soft, chestnut hair at the nape of his neck, while his left drops down to Kurt's hip and rests permanently there, letting his thumb draw aimless circles against the bone. He shifts in his position on the mattress, rising up on his bent knees until he looms over Kurt dominantly, never breaking the kiss that slowly, but steadily, rises in tempo.
Kurt begins to feel lost in all of it. Lost in the movements, lost in the sounds, lost in the taste. His mind completely succumbs to the relentless pleasure, the powerful electricity of every action. He lets himself drown in the feeling of closeness, of connection. He never wants it to stop.
But, as the world has doubtlessly proven, every good thing must come to an end sometime.
"Kurt! Good thing you're still home; I forgot my keys, have you see—Oh my god, what the hell!"
The thunderous voice breaks their moment like a stone through brittle glass.
Kurt hadn't even heard the front door open.
How had he not noticed? How had this happened?
They jerk back from the extended kiss and turn reflexively to see Kurt's step-brother's hulking form in the open doorway, Finn's eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Kurt feels Blaine's heart pick up in tempo against him, feels the boy's warm skin grow cold and clammy, feels his hands begin to tremble where they now grip Kurt's own forearms like iron vices. It becomes painfully apparent that they are caught, that they are trapped.
Finn's gaze darts back and forth between them in the tense silence. Kurt almost whimpers, 'no,' when the quarterback's eyes lock onto Blaine's, when they widen in horrid realization, when his mouth gapes open even farther before speaking four, completely dumbstruck words.
"Dude…it's a human!"
Finn blinks a few more times before his hand slowly creeps down and into his pocket, withdrawing his cell phone and flipping it open. Kurt feels a sickening panic race through him as he watches Finn's thumb lope across the keypad, its movements lucid and careful as if he were trying not to frighten them, like a child's cautious pursuit of a bird resting unaware on its perch. Each depression of the keys are sharp, hard punches to Kurt's gut.
9…1…1…
Things start happening. Quickly.
Kurt and Blaine break apart, Blaine throwing himself against the far wall of the closet while Kurt launches himself at his sibling.
"Finn, no! Don't!"
He collides with his step-brother and knocks both of them off their feet, their legs tangling violently on the wood floor as he twists and claws for the cell phone in Finn's giant-like hand. Finn still hasn't pressed call, and the dialed number shines mockingly from the screen just out of Kurt's reach. The quarterback remains sprawled beneath the doorway, stunned for a moment as his brain tries to process complex thoughts.
"Wait…you're…" Finn begins to mumble, and Kurt throws himself at the phone again, only to have it lifted just above his reaching fingers. Finn seems to be doing it almost subconsciously, his brow still furrowed and his eyes still pensive.
"Finn, give me the goddamn phone!" Kurt yells.
"Wait…are you with the human?" Finn asks, his voice puzzled. Kurt can't reply; fear has trapped the air in his lungs, providing him only enough to produce a quiet squeak. Finn disregards the noise, returning to his reverie.
"So…you weren't trying to kill it…and you weren't going to turn it in…"
"Finn—!" Kurt chokes out. "Finn, give it to me!"
Suddenly, something seems to fit together in the behemoth of a boy, and his eyebrows rise to his hairline.
"Were you just going to keep it?" Finn asks in disbelief. Part of his expression seems almost hurt, like Kurt was doing wrong by not sharing. "Like a…like a pet? Dude, that's pretty weird…and I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do that…"
Kurt takes in a few, hysteric breaths. "Finn…" he breathes, scrapping his original idea of forcefully obtaining the phone and resorting to calm reasoning. It would be much easier if I could clear my head, he thinks sourly. "Finn, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the phone now."
"But…but Kurt you're not allowed to keep a human like that…" Finn replies, his tone conflicted.
"Finn, please just give me the phone…just give me the phone and I'll turn him in and everything will be fine." Kurt says from between his clenched teeth. He hears a quiet whimper from where Blaine is cowering in the closet and he winces with guilt. Obviously, he has no intention of giving Blaine up, and Kurt is a bit saddened that Blaine thinks he'd turn on him so easily, but Kurt understands that panic can do certain things to a person, can make them believe whatever it pleases. He hopes that once this is all over, Blaine will forgive him, that he will still award him the same trust as before.
Finn pauses for a moment, his brain riddled with indecision, before slowly extending the phone to Kurt.
But just as Kurt's fingers brush over the smooth, plastic surface, Finn snatches it back again.
"I can tell that you're lying," Finn states matter-of-factly, a slightly proud smile on his face. "Puck taught me that a few days ago. If a person looks down and to the left when they say something, they're telling a lie."
"Oh for the love of f—Finn, give it to me. Now."
"But, Kurt, I can't…"
"Now, Finn."
"Kurt, what you're doing is wrong, though…"
"Finn, who are you going to side with? Me, or the system?" Kurt blurts out, feeling strangely similar to the anti-government extremist from the web-site.
Finn hesitates, torn between the two choices.
"You're are family…" Finn mumbles to himself, though loud enough so Kurt can hear. "But mom said always to trust the government…like, when my second cousin was arrested for stealing and mom said it was for the best because it taught him the importance of being a good citizen…"
Suddenly, Finn looks back up at Kurt, a steely resolve in his eyes.
"I can't let you have it, Kurt. I know you're family, but sometimes you just have to side with what's right."
Finn presses call.
Kurt's stomach sinks to the floor.
A horribly long moment passes where both Kurt and Finn are frozen in their spots, listening to the faint sound of ringing emanating from the small speaker.
"This is 911, what is your emergency?"
Finn raises the receiver to his lips. Kurt nearly begins to cry. There is nothing he can do.
"Yeah, I need some people over here now; my step-brother has actually been hiding a huma—"
THWACK!
And the phone clatters to the floor, the impact of the fall cracking the screen and ending the conversation.
And along with it comes a shoe.
Before Kurt even begins to process what just happened, Finn collapses to the floor in a heap, his mammoth-like body curled unnaturally in on itself.
"Wh…what?" Kurt squeaks before his eyes fall on the trembling form of Blaine off to the side.
If Kurt had been paying better attention to his peripherals, he would have seen the dark haired boy dart quickly out of the closet with the clog held high, aim, and then chuck the heavy, wooden thing with as much force his body could muster directly at Finn's forehead. The force of the blow was enough to knock even Finn, the burliest of the Hudson-Hummel family, completely cold.
"Did you just…was that you..?" Kurt babbles, still trying to sort out everything that had just transpired in less than five minutes. It seemed too much for such a small amount of time.
Blaine nods numbly and then walks over to the cell phone, taking one moment of deliberation before stomping on it with his heel and crushing the device into tiny fragments.
But, even with the phone gone, the damage had been done.
"K-Kurt…" Blaine stammers. "I need to go."
Kurt blinks once. "What? Wait, huh? No! No, you can't go…I can't just have you go back out there and…Blaine where would you go? There's nowhere else that's safe around here—"
"Kurt, this place isn't safe anymore either." Blaine interrupts. His voice is empty and desolate. "The authorities will be here in a few minutes, and if I don't leave, I'll be caught. And I have to save my sister. I can't let her down, Kurt, I can't."
Kurt stands in silence for a moment before speaking, his words deliberate and sharp. "Well you're not as smart as I thought you were if you think I'm letting you go by yourself."
"Kurt…what are you—?"
"I'm coming with you."
Blaine's eyes bulge.
"What? Are you crazy? Kurt, you can't be serious. You have a family here. You can't just up and leave. Plus, I would feel guilty, too. I would be uprooting you from everything you know. It's a harsh, cruel world out there and I would be beside myself if you ever were caught in any danger—"
Kurt breaks Blaine's rant with a scoff.
"I can fend for myself, thanks. Four years of torture in public high school has made me pretty scrappy. And also, I've been living with my family for my entire life. It's time I got out of the house don't you think?"
The boys fall quiet as Kurt's argument marinates, and the second hand of the kitchen analog clock grows louder as it rounds the numbers. Blaine's eyes flicker between Kurt, Finn, and the window overlooking the street outside.
"Time's ticking, Blaine." Kurt says pointedly. "Either you want help, or you don't want me with you. Make a choice. Because soon, you won't have one. Like you said, they're coming."
Blaine gives Kurt a heartbroken stare. "Of course I want you with me, Kurt. I always will…but…"
"Then let me come with you." Kurt says, but this time his voice is absent of its edge. It's pleading, begging…
There are a few beats before Blaine swallows nervously, and his eyes begin to gleam with a hint of optimism. "Okay," he breathes.
Kurt sports one of the largest smiles that have ever graced his face.
"Great," he begins. "Now, that we've got that over with, we need to get our asses moving." Kurt cracks his knuckles quickly and rolls his shoulders before his features shift to businesslike determination.
"Blaine, there are two empty backpacks in the hallway closet. Get them. Once you have them start filling the packs up with all the non-perishable food items you can find, along with two or three water bottles. After you finish, bring them to me and I'll stuff in the money and clothes. Got everything? Alright now move."
The boys dart away in opposite directions, throwing open doors, tossing things across rooms, emptying drawers, cleaning out cabinets. All that was once organized lies in scattered piles and all that was disorganized anyway is simply added on to. In under three minutes, the boys have two filled packs, bulging with supplies.
For a moment, the two just stand there staring at them, as if the two packs represented the end of one life and the start of a new one.
And then Blaine bends down and picks them up, throwing his over his shoulder and handing the other to Kurt.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks one last time.
Kurt takes a deep breath and nods. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."
Blaine gives him a small, sad smile and reaches out to take his hand.
"Then let's go."
A/N: I always depict Finn to be a bumbling idiot and I don't know why.
Please review!