A/N: This update is sooo long! (13 pages on Word) I hope you like it! Oh and guess what? My birthday is today! Yay!
They make into the parking garage before Blaine finally breaks down.
One second, they're walking hand in hand to Kurt's dad's car. The next , Blaine is collapsing to his knees on the concrete floor, his arms gripping his sides, nails clawing into the fabric of his shirt as he attempts and fails to control the hysteric, choking breaths that shake through to his core. Startled tears are falling one after another and staining the ground where they splash, trailing down from his widened eyes and dripping onto the inside lenses of his aviators where each jerk of his torso shakes them free. Kurt stands for a moment in shock, his mind still numb from their encounter with the police only minutes before. It's only after he hears Blaine start to blubber frantic apologies that he snaps into action, bending down to the boy's level and pulling him into a tight embrace. Blaine instinctively leans into him, his face burying itself in Kurt's shoulder so Kurt can feel his every pained, stuttering breath.
"Hey…it's alright…it's okay…shh…" Kurt whispers in Blaine's ear, twisting his head to plant soft kisses in the shorter boy's curls.
"I'm s-sorry Kurt, I c-can't... it's s-so s-stupid…d-don't know why I'm s-so…I-I don't know why I'm a-acting like this—" Blaine babbles between each sharp inhale, his hands trembling violently where they clutch Kurt's shoulders. Kurt shushes him again softly, reaching up to rest his hand comfortingly on the back of Blaine's head.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me; I understand. That was scary. That was very scary."
"'s just th-that they were all there, a-and I just—I just panicked and—"
"Blaine, it's okay, we're out of there."
"N-no, I know, 's just…god K-Kurt, I w-was so close to just…to just losing it, a-and…if I hadn't kept myself in one p-piece…"
Kurt gently pulls back and places his index finger against Blaine's lips, immediately quieting the boy into a quivering silence.
"It's all over," He says simply, his lips curling up in a small, hopeful smile. A beat of silence passes before Blaine gives one in return and, as strained as it is, the small gesture fills Kurt with a warm glow that radiates to his fingertips.
They stand up together, Kurt's hand resting firmly on the small of Blaine's back to steady him, and begin walking again to the car. Thankfully, their level of the garage appears empty, though they can hear the sounds of activity below and above them. Shutting car doors echo periodically through the structure, the sounds reverberating off the walls with the decibel level of a gunshot. Blaine can't help but flinch occasionally and, when an especially loud crack shreds through his nerves, Kurt's hand moves from his back to wrap around his opposite hip, pulling him against his side in an effort of calm.
Blaine clears his throat after a while and wipes his face with the back of his hand.
"…are you sure it's alright to take your Dad's car?" he says meekly. Kurt turns to him a gives a light eye-roll.
"Please, we barely even use this car; my parents take the subway to work anyway. It's exclusively for travel…which we never end up doing." Kurt lets out a small sigh, gazing off into the distance. "I think…I think he bought it as more of a security crutch. He wants to be able to have that second option if…well, if we ever get out of here."
Blaine's brows furrow in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Kurt glances at him, his expression only the slightest bit sad.
"We moved here because it was a necessity," Kurt explains, the corner of his lips set in a small frown. "Not because we actually wanted to. My dad has this…this dream that once society becomes stable again and once there's no reason to be so close to the government, we could move back to Ohio."
Blaine blinks slowly for a moment, not quite grasping the underlying meaning.
"Okay…" he starts slowly. "I mean, I'll be honest and say that I don't think society will ever become stable again…but if it did, would moving back be so bad?"
Kurt swallows hard and replies, his voice strained and high-pitched. "Er…no…no I guess not…It's just…"
"Just what?" Blaine asks softly, giving Kurt an expectant stare. Kurt lowers his head solemnly, his eyes becoming permanently fixed on his designer shoes.
"It's just that, maybe going back wouldn't be such a good idea. All…all of my childhood memories are there…my first steps, my first musical, my first dance recital…the first time I realized I liked boys…the day I came out to my dad…every single monumental memory of my life…my past life…"
Kurt pauses and takes a slow breath. "My past life, Blaine. That's where it lies, in ruins. Every ransacked household, demolished school, bullet-sprayed building…they all represent something that is in the past. Going back there, trying to rebuild it all and pretend like it just never happened…I just don't feel like that would be right…"
Kurt trails off uncomfortably. They walk silently for a minute, Blaine's chest aching from the way Kurt's features are set in a permanent reflection of sadness, every footstep seeming to drag a little more than it had before on the grime covered floor.
"…I understand," Blaine murmurs, pulling his arm around Kurt's waist in the same fashion the taller boy had done with him. "I couldn't go back home…I just couldn't…it would be too painful."
"But you had it worse off than I did. You were driven from your home; we left voluntarily," Kurt reminds him quietly. Blaine gives a small, noncommittal shrug.
"Sure, I guess if one was trying to argue a point he would say that, for me, it would be more difficult. But that doesn't mean that it wouldn't be difficult for you too. You had a life there too, Kurt."
Kurt gives an unenthusiastic nod, his free hand not resting on Blaine's hip reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. Attached the bundle of metal hangs the remote control of the car. Kurt's slender fingers wrap fluidly around the device, his thumb pressing the 'unlock' key and illuminating the taillights of a nearby vehicle.
Blaine, even through the lingering haze of panic and fear that still clouds his senses, raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"That's a BMW Supercharge 750. These things are priced in the ballpark of seventy grand…Kurt, how did you get one?" He asks, his voice drawn out in awe.
Kurt's lips twitch up into a small smile.
"My dad has a passion for cars; he knows a few people. You know, we used to build some from scrap metal back in Ohio. He owned a shop there and…and he really loved that place."
"My dad and I rebuilt a car together once," Blaine says quietly.
"Oh really? What model?"
Blaine rubs the back of his neck and sports an uncomfortable grimace.
"I don't really remember…or care, for that matter. He only did it as an attempt to 'straighten me out'."
Kurt's face falls a little, his former excitement dying. "Oh…I'm sorry…"
"It's alright. I still loved him." Blaine murmurs. His eyes lose focus and stare ahead of him, his features lost and sad. "He was a good father…in the end…"
Kurt sinks into thought, idly fiddling with the hem of Blaine's sweater, his arm seemingly unwilling to let the boy go free as they stand stationary behind the unlocked car.
"I guess, in retrospect, that's all that matters. Right?" he murmurs after a while. "Making up for it in the end…"
A feeling of concern creeps into Blaine's chest as he examines Kurt, how the boy's face remains drawn, a look of regret creating shadows over the formerly bright gleam in his eyes.
"Kurt…" Blaine begins warily. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing…just…" Kurt takes a breath and looks back up at the car. "I never thought to leave behind a note…to let them know I'm okay."
Everything shifts back into place and the confusion evaporates, leaving Blaine with a heavy, sickening pang of guilt. He supposes that before, in their harried rush to get out of the apartment, he had never really taken the time to consider all of what Kurt is sacrificing for him, to be fully aware of how much he would be indebted to him. After all, Kurt is uprooting his life with his family to be with him—not that Blaine understands why; surely he alone cannot be Kurt's reason. But nevertheless, the anxious harrowing, regret Kurt dons is enough to force Blaine to ask the question.
"Kurt, are you absolutely sure about this? If you have any doubts at all, you really don't have to—"
"Blaine, stop it," Kurt commands a bit harshly, his face changing and solidifying into a look of cool determination. "I'm far from happy here. And I wouldn't have said yes to coming with you if I didn't mean it. I keep my promises."
They hold a heavy stare for a moment, calculating, reassuring, promising, until finally Kurt takes another deep breath and fixes his gaze on the car, his brow set with conviction.
"Let's get out of here," he says, pulling away from Blaine and striding over to the driver's side door.
Blaine stands frozen in his place, watching as the car purrs to life with the graceful power only seventy grand can buy, until Kurt leans out his window and fixes him with an expectant stare.
"Getting in anytime soon?" he quips.
Blaine nods jerkily and hurries over to the passenger side, pulling on the sleek, black handle of the door and slipping into the low mounted seat.
The air inside the cab is warm and almost comforting, a promise of salvation soon to come. Blaine buckles his seatbelt and leans into the soft leather upholstery, letting his head fall back against the headrest as he fists his eyes, still red and stinging from a few minutes prior.
"You alright?" he hears Kurt ask softly. Blaine nods in reply, suddenly feeling drowsy as the adrenaline begins to wear away.
"M' fine…you're right; let's just get out of here."
Kurt gives a small smile before revving the engine and yanking the gear back to reverse. Blaine feels himself slipping as Kurt pulls out of the space, and the last thing that crosses his mind before he feels the blackness take him is an image of his sister, smiling and dancing in their living back home.
The flash of dim memory plagues his conscience and, before he can stop it, he finds himself dreaming…remembering…
"Blaine, watch what I can do! Look, look, look!"
"…that's nice Kay…."
"But you weren't even looking! Blaaaine, watch this, pleeease…"
He sighs and leans up from his position over his homework, flashing an irritated glare before composing himself and smiling patronizingly. Kadie doesn't seem to buy it and in response sticks her tongue out, scrunching her nose in a way that, to someone outside the family, could be considered cute. Not to Blaine, of course; he only finds it annoying.
"What do you want to show me, Kay? I'm really busy," he says gesturing to the pile of papers resting on the desk in front of him.
She huffs and crosses her arms dramatically, spinning around on her heel until her back is to him. "I'm not showing you anymore. You're a meanie. Meanie's don't get to see cool stuff."
Blaine sighs again, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He takes a breath and forces an even larger, more genuine smile.
"C'mon Kay, I really want to see it. I'm sorry for before. Please?"
Kadie turns her head halfway, keeping her small body still and facing forward. "Say you're sorry for being a big-fat-meanie-head," she pouts stubbornly.
"I'm sorry for being a big, fat, bumbling, meanie-head," Blaine says, a real grin creeping into his fake one. His sister giggles at the new word and speaks it allowed a few times, testing it on her tongue.
"Bumbing…Bum-ble…"
She giggles again and then spins around to face Blaine, all traces of negativity gone. Throwing up her arms, she looks at Blaine excitedly, her eyes wide with fundamental happiness that even Blaine can't help warming to.
"Ready, ready? Watch this."
After she is sure Blaine is paying sufficient attention to her, she tumbles over sideways, catching herself on her arms and whirling upside-down in an impressive—especially for her age—cartwheel.
She lands on her feet again a bit clumsily, but steadies herself just in time before colliding with one of the pieces of antique furniture. After she is certain of her footing, she turns to Blaine again and fixes him with an expectant grin.
Blaine laughs a little at her expression and begins to clap loudly, whistling and whooping in a way that makes Kadie bounce in place joyfully before giving a low bow, her nose nearly touching her kneecap but for a couple inches of air.
"Bravo, Bravo," Blaine chuckles, shaking his head slightly at how quickly his sister's charms can win him over.
"I showed Daddy today and guess what he said, Blaine? He said I was 'going places'. Isn't that so cool!"
Blaine's still-clapping hands stutter to a stop.
"Oh…that's…that's really great, Kay," he says, his tone a bit pained. But Kadie doesn't seem to notice this time, twirling like a ballerina and singing snippets of the Italian opera their mother periodically played on their speaker system.
"Well, I guess you can do your homework now," Kadie chirps after a while. She waves goodbye to Blaine before taking a running leap out of the room, landing underneath the doorframe and then spinning back out into the hallway, humming words she doesn't know the translations to.
Blaine is left with a cold, hollow feeling in his chest.
His father had never praised him like that.
Even after all of his piano recitals, all of his community plays, he'd received no encouragement for the future. Every comment had been along the lines of, "that was good, but…" or, "a little rough…" or even, "unfortunately, I was on a conference call the entire time. Maybe we can buy the DVD of it. What do you say?"
Even with his father's promise, Blaine hadn't had the heart to say that the play 'West Side Story'—in which he had been cast as leading man—had not been taped anyway.
He sits in his chair, frowning at the memories his younger self, the 'him' who had constantly been vying for his father's attention, for his acknowledgement, for anything…
Letting out a shaky sigh and turning back around in his chair, he refocuses his attention on his homework.
Chapter two, The Neurological Effects of Emotions on the Brain…
The darkness in which he wakes does nothing to help orient himself, and soon Blaine's gaze is darting around the enclosed space, taking in small details such as the strap of fabric secured across his lap and shoulders, the handle of a door on his right side, along with the button controlling window function. It doesn't take long for the not-so-distant past to come rushing back, and he immediately turns his head left, smiling faintly at the sight of Kurt's form driving the car, at how the slender curve of his back and smooth profile of his face appear silhouetted in the low light shining from the middle of the dashboard. Blaine realizes that that light is actually an LCD screen, and he doesn't bother looking straight into it, knowing it would start his head pounding.
After reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Kurt, Blaine glances around at the space again, his brow scrunching in confusion as he notices that all the windows, even the front and back windshields, are completely, opaquely black. Even at night, a view of outside would be available with the glare of the car's headlights. A feeling of being underground creeps over him and he swallows nervously.
"Kurt?" he asks quietly. "What's wrong with the car? Why can't I see anything?"
He hears Kurt shift in his seat before answering. "Oh, Blaine, you're awake. Guess that means I can play some music now, huh?"
There's a faint click of a button and then the car fills with the voice of Madonna, one of her post-plague albums with which Blaine has little familiarity.
"Kurt, why can't I see anything out of the windows?" he asks a bit more clearly. Kurt is humming absently with the song and Blaine barely see's the boy as he motions to the windshield with a flourish of his hand.
"You mean this? This is daytime driving mode. Every car comes equipped with it now. It blocks the sunlight from outside and uses a three-sixty camera mounted on the roof to give me a view of the road around me. See?" he points at the LCD screen Blaine had neglected to examine. After squinting painfully for a moment until his eyes adjust, Blaine see's what Kurt described: a screen showing a moving picture of the sun-drenched road on which they are driving, spilt into thirds to show the front, back, and side views at the same time, just like the driving arcade games Blaine used to play sometimes as a child.
"Wow, that's…incredible…" Blaine says. Now that his eyes are adjusted enough, he can see Kurt grin in response.
"I know. My dad invented it," Kurt continues proudly. "Well, he invented the prototype and then various car companies refined it, but he had the original idea. That's why we could afford that apartment."
Blaine nods in astonishment, still staring at the screen which shows a long, straight, empty road.
"No one else is driving?" he comments, shooting Kurt a questioning glance.
"People still prefer to drive at night; there's no risk of being exposed to the sun…and I guess it's just easier psychologically knowing that if you get in a wreck and are thrown out of your car, you won't get cooked like an egg…" Kurt adds with a grimace. "But it's not uncommon to see a few people out and about during the a.m. Mostly car enthusiasts who like to speed."
Blaine nods again and moves his gaze away from the screen, his skull beginning to ache persistently.
"How long was I asleep?" he asks, changing the subject. He can't remember what time they left, but the classically decorative analog clock underneath the radio glows one in the afternoon.
Kurt raises his eyebrows and smirks. "Oh, maybe around ten hours, give or take one."
Blaine blanches, his mouth popping open gracelessly.
"Ten hours? We've been driving for ten hours?" he exclaims, his eyes flitting back to the LCD screen and searching the picture for any clue to their surroundings. "Kurt…where are we?"
Kurt shrugs his shoulders, the smug look draining from his features.
"I…I don't know. I've just been driving aimlessly so far. I think the last city we drove through was Raleigh, North Carolina…but I can't be sure. I might have stopped looking at one point." Kurt looks apologetically at Blaine, his eyes tired and a little unfocused.
"Kurt, do you need me to drive?" Blaine asks suddenly, though he's pretty sure he wouldn't know how to operate the car in daytime mode. Kurt shakes his head wearily, hands readjusting his loosening grip on the wheel.
"It's alright. But if you don't mind, could we maybe find as rest stop somewhere? There are new one's built now that are specifically equipped for the daytime…and I just need to stand for a minute and stretch…wake myself up, you know?"
"Oh okay…yeah that's fine," Blaine says anxiously. Kurt senses his hesitation and attempts to sooth his fears.
"Don't worry; not many people use them at this time. And if there are people, they won't notice you. They're all as tired as I am."
Blaine agrees silently, turning away and beginning to search the compartments in the car.
"Do you have a map somewhere or…?"
"Oh, no, don't worry about that; I have a GPS."
Blaine blinks once or twice before fixing Kurt with a strange stare.
"Then…why didn't you use it to find out where we were?" he asks, hoping not to come off as rude to the boy who is saving him. Kurt doesn't seem to mind, instead pointing to the dashboard at a small speaker mounted just above the clock, as if the motion explained everything.
"I would have woken you up and I wanted you to get some sleep. You've been through a lot," Kurt explains before leaning in towards the speaker. Just as Blaine prepares to ask what he is doing, Kurt opens his mouth and speaks directly at the small piece of metal, his face straight and almost bored-looking, as if what he is doing is no more than routine.
"Minnie, where is the closest UV-protected rest stop from here?"
Blaine's face screws up with confusion and a small bit of alarm. He briefly considers the possibility that Kurt may be delirious with exhaustion, that there is a perfectly normal explanation to why Kurt is talking to a car. What he does not expect is for something to talk back.
He jumps in his seat when the metallic, female voice emanates from the same speaker, responding with unnerving fluidity to Kurt's question.
"The closest UV-protected rest stop from your location is approximately fifteen miles west, or nine and a half minutes with your current speed of eighty-two miles an hour and low traffic concentration. Would you like to be directed verbally to the requested destination?"
"Yes; thank you Minnie."
Kurt leans back in his seat again and adjusts his position, getting comfortable again in the backrest. After a moment, he seems to notice Blaine's silence and turns to him. Upon viewing Blaine's dumbfounded expression, he asks, "What?"
"Er…nothing…" Blaine squeaks, looking away and feeling ridiculously foolish. To distract from the awkward quiet, he comments, "So, you named it Minnie?"
"For Garmin. You know, Gar-min? They still make GPS's Blaine."
"Yeah…yeah I know…" Blaine says softly. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm so out of the loop."
Kurt chuckles.
"Yep."
They smile at each other before Minnie begins to speak again, directing Kurt to another road and startling Blaine with its unsettlingly human-like mannerisms.
"You'll get used it, don't worry," Kurt says with another smug grin. Blaine scoffs half-heartedly before resting his head against the window frame.
"I hope."
The occasional direction from Minnie is enough to keep Blaine awake for the next few minutes, though his awareness is only sub-par. Kurt reaches over and jostles his shoulder when they pull off the highway and onto an exit route, the two-lane road leading to a small shopping plaza and what looks to be a massive concrete fort.
"Is that what we're headed to?" Blaine asks warily, noticing with a grimace that there are absolutely no windows on the blank, grayish walls.
Kurt nods in reply at the same time his brows knit together. "Hm, I guess this must be one of those bigger ones with its own hotel…"
"Wait, what?" Blaine remarks, his voice rising in pitch. "Kurt, I thought you said there weren't going to be that many people here!"
"Calm down, alright?" Kurt says firmly, shooting him a sharp glance. "There usually aren't. And we're only going to be staying here for a few minutes. Aren't you hungry, anyway?"
Blaine swallows sheepishly, resting his head back against the headrest. In all honesty, he is a little hungry. And he's sure that it's better to get food here where it's readily available rather than open up their backpacks quite yet. They're going to need to save as much as possible.
"O-Okay…only a few minutes, right?"
"Yes," Kurt says comfortingly. "We'll be out of there in no time.""
Once closer to the building itself, Blaine can fully appreciate how large it is, the squarely shaped structure covering almost a football field in length and swallowing the small LCD screen completely. The only part of the architecture that differs from its uniform, box-like shape is the small tunnel-like appendage sticking out from the ground floor. At the end of the tunnel is a large, industrial sized garage door in which, Blaine assumes, they are to enter.
"What's that for?" he asks out of curiosity. Kurt shrugs and lightly taps the gas, pushing them forward towards the door.
"They don't really have a name for it, but my dad just calls it the entry chamber. It's made so that no sunlight can enter the main part of the building. You'll see."
They approach the entry point and stop completely, Kurt waiting patiently for something to happen. Just as Blaine is about to ask, the door lets out a bell tone loud enough to rattle the car. Blaine clutches the edges of his seat nervously and, after the tone stops, the door slowly begins to open, revealing a long, empty tunnel. Blaine's eyes stayed glue to the screen in the car, watching as the wall of sunlight creeps further into the tunnel, eventually reaching the other side and casting light on yet another identical garage door.
Blaine pulls away from the dashboard as understanding dawns on him.
"So this thing is all closed in?" he asks quietly as Kurt nudges the gas again and nods.
They roll into the tunnel and stop towards the middle just as the door sounds another bell tone. Blaine glances at the rear view screen and notices the garage door behind them closing, sucking away the daylight with it. A feeling of dread sinks over him and he clears his throat, trying to dispel the fear.
It finally shuts behind them, the bang ricocheting off the walls several times before settling into silence.
"You may now de-activate daytime driving,"a voice announces from outside the car, obviously computerized and coming from unseen speakers. Blaine still flinches in his seat, quietly cursing to himself and running his hands down his face.
"God, why can't anything be run by a person anymore?" he complains, ignoring Kurt's laugh.
Kurt taps the LCD screen with his index finger and presses a button that appears over the camera views. Suddenly, to Blaine's amazement, the blackness in the windows begin to drain away, running down into the frame of the car and leaving the windows crystal clear in its wake. Suddenly he can see everything around them: the texture of the concrete walls around them, the bright yellow lines painted a few inches away from the curb beneath them, the faint outline of the speaker in the top corner of the ceiling from which the voice had originated from.
"How…how does that even work?" he wonders aloud. Kurt smiles and shrugs again.
"My dad knows the technological side of it; I only know that it's some kind of UV blocking plasma," he says as the door in front of them begins to open, this time without the bell tone from before. Kurt pulls the car into the main building, into what looks like any normal parking garage, though it's surrounded by window shops, vending machines, bathrooms, and an automatic door leading to a steeply priced hotel.
Blaine has his face practically molded to his window, like a child inside his first carwash.
"You're dad's invention inspired all this?" He asks, hearing Kurt hum in approval.
Blaine takes in the emptiness of the space with a small sigh of relief before turning to Kurt, his eyes wide with amazement.
"He's a brilliant man…" he says sincerely, though he notices Kurt's face fall with sadness in response.
Something in Blaine breaks.
A determined feeling washes through him and he puts a hand on Kurt's arm, fixing the taller boy with a serious gaze.
"Kurt, I cannot thank you enough for what you are doing," he begins, waiting until Kurt meets his eyes. When he does, Blaine can see the guilt there, the conflict, and he hates himself for it.
"I owe you my life, Kurt. I owe you everything. You're giving up so much to do this for me, and I just want you to know how incredibly, intensely grateful I am. And I promise, Kurt, that I will find a way for you to contact your family. I will find a way to get you back to them, even if it kills me. You don't deserve to live like I do. It's dangerous; there's no guarantee you'll make it to the next day. You don't deserve that kind of stress."
Kurt is shaking his head before Blaine finishes, his eyes sparkling with emotion.
"Don't," Kurt begins. "Don't put that on yourself. It was my choice; I could have stayed home if I really wanted to and just given you the car. Blaine, I chose to come with you. I promised I would keep you safe." He takes a breath and briefly fixes his eyes back out the windshield. Picking an empty parking space, he spins around the wheel and pulls in, putting the car into park and slipping out of his seatbelt.
"Blaine, please listen to me when I say this, okay?" he says quietly, still staring at his hand that stays lightly clenched around the gear shift. "You are the only person in my entire life that's made me feel…happy, and complete, and just...like I actually have a place. Like I'm not some little add on that the world just forgot about. Not even my family, who I love dearly, knows me like you do."
Blaine feels the prickling of tears buds along the rims of his eyes and he hastily wipes them away, wondering when he became such an emotional wreck.
"I didn't want to lose you," Kurt continues. "I didn't want to let you go because you made me truly look forward to another day, to more experiences. You gave me hope." Kurt shakes his head, quietly berating himself. "I mean, I guess it's a little presumptuous of me to assume that you really feel the same way…I just figured that, maybe…I…I don't know…" he trails off, bowing his head shamefully and avoiding eye contact. Blaine's stunned silence seems to confirm something with him because he begins to reach for the door handle, shaking his head and murmuring, "I shouldn't have said anything." Just as the door opens and a breeze of cool air flows into the car, Blaine's hand shoots out to grab Kurt's forearm, the boy's face desperate and tear-streaked.
"Kurt, wait," he says firmly, though his voice cracks a bit. Kurt looks over timidly, stopping his movements and settling back down in his seat. He pulls the door closed again, cutting off the air and sound and leaving them in near privacy.
Blaine swallows hard, putting as much sincerity, as much raw truth into his eyes as possible.
"Kurt…you give me hope, too," he murmurs, his hand sliding down to Kurt's own and lacing their fingers together. "You give me so much hope, it hurts, and I begin to wonder what I ever did to deserve someone like you coming into my life. You matter, not just to me, but to the whole world. And, Kurt…" he pauses, taking a shuddering breath.
"Kurt, I think…I love you."
A beat of silence hangs between them before Blaine is suddenly pulled in, before his lips are crushed heatedly against Kurt, before his entire body explodes in a symphony of his own happiness and the world around them seems to dim and blur into the background, before all he can feel and hear and taste is Kurt and Kurt alone and everything, all meaning and reason shifts and fits together like the last piece in a newly completed puzzle.
They pull back after a while and stare unabashedly, a smile present on each of their lips.
"I love you, too," Kurt whispers. "And I'm in this for the long run."
Blaine's smile grows impossibly wider. They lean in slowly for another kiss, this time warm and sweet and soft, the garage around them completely forgotten.
Until…
"GET OUT OF THE CAR!"
Until everything shatters.
Literally and figuratively.
They boys jerk apart just as every window in the car implodes, spraying them with shards of razor like glass.
Kurt hears Blaine scream in pain as pieces catch in his skin, slicing through his face and neck and shoulders, flecking the seats and dashboard with drops of blood.
Every molecule in Kurt's body seems to freeze.
His pupils blow out black instantly, and his breath catches in his throat.
Small whimpers escape Blaine's lips and Kurt barely registers when the boy begins to pick some of the larger bits out of his arm.
"GET OUT OF THE GODDAMN CAR!" The unknown voice bellows again. This time, it is definitely not a computer.
Foreign hands reach in through the gap where the windows used to be, one pair grabbing hold of Blaine's hair and the other securing their grip beneath his armpits.
Blaine struggles profusely, screaming again when the hands yank hard, pulling him out of his seat through the window and snapping his head back.
"KURT!" he cries, the sound choking off and escalating to one of pure agony when his back drags against the rim of the window, through the shards still attached at the base. Kurt can hear them tearing through his t-shirt, sinking, ripping through his shoulder blades.
But Kurt can't move. If he so much as flinches, he's sure to kill him.
He watches as Blaine's feet pass through the opening, watches as tall, dark figures toss him on the ground roughly and kick him once in his side, watches as Blaine groans and rolls into a feeble crouch, spitting and coughing up blood onto the pavement. It pools tantalizingly beneath his chin, drips mockingly down his throat.
"K-Kurt…" his voice wavers before the dark figure kicks him again. Blaine gasps and chokes, collapsing to the ground and breathing harshly as blood dribbles out the corner of his mouth with every breath. The figures kneel down to his level and check to make sure he's immobilized before standing again, turning to Kurt and removing the dark masks that obscured their faces.
Kurt's chest fills with a horror unlike any he's experienced.
Because staring back at him is the same policeman from the lobby of his apartment building, smiling knowingly.
A/N: I know, I'm horrible. Get ready for the next chapter; it's going to be packed with plot and fluff and…well, everything! This is where it kicks into high gear people.
Please Review!