Author's note: The Pandora Project exists. The work and support that all groups like this offer is invaluable.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
He feels better. Despite not wanting to think about it, or talk about it, he's ended up talking about it almost every day, thinking about it even more, turning it over in his mind. Today has given him a lot to think about. Knowing that Blaine was drugged doesn't excuse his actions, but Blaine's mom was right, it does offer an explanation. While he might not be able to trust Blaine again, he feels a little better about trusting himself. Trusting his own judgment.
It's no surprise to him that Sebastian is a complete asswipe. That Blaine trusted him and the drinks, well he trusted the drinks Sebastian brought him as well. Clearly they're both too naïve and trusting for their own good and Sebastian can't see past his own nose. His mind skitters over what could have happened if Sebastian had drugged him as well, or if he'd even taken a sip of Blaine's drink… it could have been so much worse. It doesn't make him feel any better, but it does offer a form of solace. Knowing his instincts about Sebastian were spot on make him feel… good. Still angry with himself for not only trusting him around drinks, but trusting him around Blaine.
Blaine's mom had surprised him. He'd kind of expected her to come in guns blazing and tell him her darling little boy couldn't do any wrong. However she'd seemed almost as upset as him, and he'd felt everything he was feeling was validated, when he'd told her it technically wasn't rape. Warm arms around him and her quiet words 'It doesn't matter if it was technically rape or not, unwanted sexual attention is still harassment, and this was physical sexual attention so it's assault.'
She'd gone on to tell him to feel as angry and as upset as he wanted and needed and no one would blame him. He'd felt for a second that maybe she was fighting fires, trying to calm him down so he won't lay a formal charge, although without actual penetration he knows he'd just get laughed at, which is just another thing that makes him angry.
When she'd pulled him aside, away from David and Carol, just before she'd left, she'd taken his hands, grasped them firmly. 'I…this…talk to a support group. Go online and be anonymous if you need to. But talk to other people this has happened to. Trust me. It helps.' The look in her eyes, the intensity and shimmer of new tears, he'd understood. He's not alone. Hundreds of people go through this and worse and get through it. He's strong and he will pull himself through this.
It doesn't take him very long before he finds it: The Pandora Project. He signs in and spends quite a while reading other's stories. He then types out his own. It feels tame in comparison to some of the things he's just read, but he knows what he's dealing with is similar to some of the other experiences. It feels good to have it out and he's already received responses, welcoming him to the group, messages telling him he's brave for coming forward and sharing his story, reassurances that there are people there he can talk to. It's made him feel a bit more calm, centered, not so alone.
He's warned that there will be bad moments. Bad days even, when he won't want to venture out. Or moments when he has panic attacks. There's talk of coping techniques, and he reads and re-reads. Some of the information and advice is contradictory, but the underlying thing is to do what is right for him. There is no one correct way, and that sometimes there will be slips backward when all he wants is to jump forward. He can deal with that. He hopes.
When he heads in to school the next day he doesn't actively try and avoid Blaine. He isn't going to seek him out, but he's not going to run from him. Rachel corners him and accuses him of jumping trip and having loose loyalties. He can't bring himself to care, just shrugs, tells her that he and Blaine have broken up and he's not singing with them anymore. He'd left her gaping at him, looking hurt, but he's still a bit peeved that someone he considers a close friend hasn't realized that something is up with him. He's still not wearing what he'd consider his normal attire, but this morning he'd accessorized with a scarf and pin, although over a plain shirt it looks odd. He might go home at lunch and change. Or at least grab a jacket that would work. When it gets to lunch Mercedes grabs his arm, so leaving isn't even an option, and the worried looks are part of the reason why he didn't want to tell anyone. Too late for that regret though. He rolls his eyes at her and she smiles, not her usual wide cheerful smile, but a small tight smile that tells him she'll play along for now, although he expects questions later.
They end up in the same small corner of the auditorium, this time the band is practicing and it feels lighter with music in the background. It feels almost normal, although Brittany sitting on his feet with her head on his lap is unusual. He doesn't want to break the silence, but knows he needs to stop them before they start.
"Look, I know what happened to me is terrible, but can you guys not be too hard on Blaine?" It feels so wrong to be asking that, but he knows it's the right thing, the mature thing, to do. He doesn't want Blaine feeling even worse. Doesn't want him to hurt himself.
"Too late. I've already put a couple of notes in his locker telling him to keep his eyes open."
"Seriously Santana? Please just let me deal with it okay? I appreciate your support, I really do, but I don't need to demonize Blaine. Sebastian drugged him…"
"So? Doesn't change the fact that he did it," Santana states, scowling.
He lets out a sigh of partial frustration.
"No, it doesn't. But as a wise woman told me, it's not an excuse, but it is an explanation. Also… David found him with a bottle of pills and I don't want -"
"Wait. David? Who's David?" Mercedes asks.
He realizes his mistake immediately. He'd not mentioned Dave when he'd told them originally, wanting to preserve his part, not thinking it important to what actually happened. He'd avoided the whole part about getting home and none of them had asked.
"Dave?" Santana asks, and her eyebrows are drawn down in a frown.
"Yeah. Dave Karofsky. He uh… helped me out. Drove Blaine home, then took me home…"
"What was Karofsky doing at a gay bar?" Mercedes asks.
Oh god. He freezes, stomach churning. Damn it. The one question he didn't want to be asked. He doesn't want to out Dave. Can't out him, not after everything. He promised. Just on Saturday night. He can't think of anything to say. Blank.
"There's a pool hall next door, he would've been there. He's a pretty sharp pool player," Santana offers and Kurt turns to her, and the sudden knowledge that she knows Dave is gay settles over him. Other things start falling in to place. Them dating. Bullywhips. Prom. He blinks and then nods, eyes meeting hers.
"Yeah, I don't know where he came from, but yeah, there is a pool hall." A pool hall he's pretty sure closes at midnight, but he doesn't need to say that out loud. Santana is smiling slightly, and a little twitch of her eyebrows confirms it for him. Huh. Interesting. Mercedes is more interested in hearing about the pills than Dave's real reasons for being at the bar.
He outlines the brief meeting up between Dave and Blaine yesterday, what little he knows, and while none of them look particularly moved by his story he at least gets them to agree to leave Blaine alone. It's the best he can hope for and he doesn't want Blaine ostracized, not at McKinley and not knowing what Blaine had gone through at his previous school. Before Dalton.
When it gets to the end of the school day and he still hasn't seen Blaine he has to assume he simply didn't come to school today. He still knows the combination to Blaine's locker, and he unlocks it, determined to remove whatever notes Santana left for him. When a landslide falls out and land scattered around his feet he sighs. A couple of notes. Right.