A/N Yeah, long wait, AGAIN. Lame :[
So here you go! Long chapter! And I just wanted to say my heart goes out to anyone who lost someone on 9/11 and had to relive that yesterday
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
"I think Blaine OD'd!"
Kurt was having trouble comprehending the words he had just heard. The things coming from Wes's mouth had sounded like they came out in slow motion, like a surreal string of noise that was meant to be in a movie or TV show, not real life. Not his real life. Surely he had heard wrong.
"…Blaine?" Kurt repeated stupidly, bringing his hands up to the sides of his face. His voice was freakishly calm and quiet, and he still stood frozen in place, not moving a muscle. Wes, on the other hand, was practically jumping out of his skin, his eyes bulging out, jumping up and down on his feet, trying to do something productive. The Asian boy let out a strangled groan and ran to flee the room, but bumped into David, who looked frustrated.
"Ryan doesn't know-"
"Blaine! David, oh God! Hurry!" He grabbed onto his dark-skinned roommate and frantically dragged him into the curly-haired boy's room, and Kurt hastily followed.
When the pale boy stepped into the doorway, all of the air left his body. There, lying crumpled on the bed in an unnaturally bent position was Blaine. His lips were blue, but the rest of his skin was unusually pale for his normally olive complexion. His body was giving slight, seizing, jolts every couple seconds, but other than that, there were no signs of real life in the boy's body.
"Fuck, Blaine!" David cursed the unresponsive boy, running over to him and shakily wiping the hair away from his eyes, trying to get a better look at his face.
This addiction really is bigger than him… Kurt mused, watching his friends frantically attend to the seemingly lifeless body. He needs help to quit something this huge and life-consuming… Of course! How could I have been so stupid to think Blaine could just pick up and quit, cold turkey, with absolutely no help or support from anyone else?
Kurt glanced over to the other bed in the room, seeing Blaine's roommate, Justin, sitting half-up, his dark brown hair still rumpled from sleep, blinking rapidly, confusion, shock, and irritation all present on his face.
"I can't find it," Wes cried hysterically from his place by Blaine's arm. Kurt shifted his attention to the two boys and found they were seemingly trying to locate Blaine's vital signs, his pulse. He also noticed the small twitches Blaine was having before had ceased.
"No, no, I found it. It's faint though. A-and slow… We gotta get him to the medical wing fuckin' stat!" David announced, after removing his hand from Blaine's pulse point near his neck. He hoisted the limp boy up from beneath his arms and seemed to be having trouble supporting him. "Kurt! Help me out over here!" But the pale boy found himself stuck to the spot where he stood in the doorway, unable to move, unable to really breathe or think, eyes simply fixed on the syringe and metal can bottom that had clanked to the ground and fallen off of Blaine's lap when David pulled him up.
Wes ran over and helped David hold the weight of the curly-haired boy, and the two quickly made their way out of the room and down the hall, eventually towards the medical wing, Kurt assumed. The pale boy watched in horror at the two retreating figures and stood for a long moment, just staring, hypnotized, at the path they had gone.
Blaine had overdosed. Blaine had overdosed on heroin. That wasn't something that just happened all the time. That was something that you heard happen to your friend's cousin's neighbor, or something… This couldn't be really happening. What if Blaine got expelled for drug use…? Or… Oh God. What if he died? What if they had found him too late and it was all over? Was that limp, lifeless shell of a boy the last Kurt was ever going to see of Blaine?
Blaine, Kurt sighed, his head pounding with what he could only assume was more than a hangover. The stupid, brilliant, repulsive, addicting, standoffish, caring, damaged, strong, ugly, beautiful boy that has oh-so-kindly been thrown into my life and complicated it beyond my comprehension. It seems like a week ago, or even last night, if someone had told Kurt that Blaine was going to be expelled, he would have been slightly grateful that he wouldn't have to deal with the daily drama it caused him. But, now? His body was twisting in pain at the very thought of never laying eyes on those conflicted hazel ones again.
He really didn't realize just how much he wanted this boy… He kept letting things get in the way – letting obstacles come between them that he could have dealt with or overlooked, and tried to convince himself over and over that this was so, so, very wrong. But he couldn't deny the part of his brain that thought, I'm so grateful I got to kiss those lips one more time last night… What if it's the last time I'm able to…? And he finally admitted to himself that if he felt this way about anyone, how so, so, very right it all was.
Kurt yanked the shower knobs with more force than necessary, taking a fraction of his anger and confusion out on the inanimate object. Where was his damn roommate? Where were Jeff and Nick and Trent? I'll have to deal with that later… For now, I have to get to class and not go missing, myself. He let out an aggravated grunt as he realized he forgot his towel out in his bedroom, and stepped out into the room, finding it draped over the back of his chair where he left it the day before.
Just as the pale boy was about to reenter the bathroom, a series of loud knocks pounded on the door. "Rounds!" Kurt froze and glanced over to the empty side of the room, mentally cursing himself for forgetting rounds happened on Monday morning.
"C-come in!" Kurt blurted out, still holding the towel in his hands, standing still in his place. The door opened and the familiar guard that did rounds on his floor guided the German Shepard drug dog through the expanse of the room. The dog ran its nose up and down Kurt's body, not making any sign of interest and then sat loyally beside the guard. The man's eyes darted around the room, and if he noticed Thad's room was completely barren, he didn't say anything.
"Roommate in the shower?" He asked gruffly, sticking his thumb in the direction of the bathroom where the water was still running. Kurt wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be trying to protect Thad, and lie to the guard to keep him out of trouble, or if he should tell him his roommate was missing so they could try to locate him. In the end, Kurt ended up saying nothing and nodding dumbly, resulting in the man leaving the room without another word.
After his shower, Kurt got dressed deliberately, spending his extra time to complete his lengthy skin care routine and made his way out the door. It was still only 7:00, and he had half an hour before breakfast was served, but he needed to clear his head, and figured he could go for a walk, or try to get some kind of update on what was happening with Blaine. As he closed his door behind him, he turned around and nearly bumped into a shaken-up-looking Wes and David.
"You guys! What's happening? How's Blaine?" The two boys exchanged a worried look and then both shrugged warily. David stepped closer to the small boy and placed a hand on his shoulder in attempted comfort, but Kurt flinched away from the touch and his face knotted together in concern.
"He, um… He stopped…breathing for a while, Kurt." The young boy's eyes grew immensely and David hurried to reassure him. "But – but the nurse said we caught him just in time! They, um, stabilized his breathing, I guess, but if he doesn't regain consciousness, they're gonna give him something that should help…"
Both Wes and David noticed the pale boy's face look strained and tight, small blotchy red patches scattering his face, an obvious sign he was about to break down. Even so, he swallowed loudly and nodded very slowly, not making eye contact with either boy. "Is he – I mean – Will he be alright…?" Before either boy could respond, a loud barking sound broke them out of their conversation and directed their attention to the room of the very boy they were discussing.
The door flung open and their floor's guard stormed out harshly, holding Justin's arms behind his back roughly and pushing him against the wall of the hallway.
"It's not mine! It's my roommate's! He's a fucking junkie!" The guard released him reluctantly but only to quickly call someone in on his radio. Very soon, the guard from the floor above theirs came pounding down the stairs and exchanged some whispered conversation with the other man, then they both entered the room and returned with the drugs and supplies collected in plastic bags, and allowed Justin to return to his dorm.
"Shit…" Wes spoke quietly, eyebrows raised in disbelief, having watched the entire scene unfold from his position in the hall, along with David and Kurt. The Asian boy blinked a few times and looked down at the floor, sighing. He turned to Kurt. "Well… Shit… Kurt, we're gonna go get ready and…we'll meet you at breakfast, or something…" Kurt nodded unhelpfully and without saying anything in response, quickly made his way down the hall, pulling his coat tighter around his body.
Blaine flipped over his pillow again, pushing down to try to bury his face into the soft material, but his body was still restless. He sighed and sat up abruptly, running his hands through his hair and searching the room, as if he would find something that would distract his mind. All he could think about was the sweet, pale boy that lived four doors down from him, most likely sleeping at that very moment. He sighed, and covered his eyes with his hands. He messed up so badly… He was supposed to stop shooting up… He was supposed to be better, to be strong and right, to be everything everyone told him he'd never be…
The curly-haired boy drew his hands away and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. And he was supposed to do this all for Kurt. Because this was his time… This was the time in his life that he was going to pull his act together, and get clean, and Kurt was more than enough motivation to do those things… He just wasn't strong enough.
He shook his head of messy curls and reached into the drawer by his bed and retrieved a cigarette and lighter, lighting it quickly and sucking in small, desperate breaths, and letting out the smoke, feeling his body already easing in relief from the nicotine. He sat and smoked until his cigarette burnt out, and he soon replaced it with another, lying back on his bed as he began inhaling this one.
Blaine heard an annoyed, muffled grunt come from his roommate's bed and glanced over, trying to make out the boy in the dark. "Fuck. Take that shit outside, B," Justin mumbled sleepily, burying his face back into the pillows and making a low grumbling sound once again. Blaine raised an eyebrow, releasing the smoke one more time before springing up to his feet and making his way toward the door.
"Mmm. Sorry," the curly-haired boy murmured softly in reply, stepping out and closing the door behind himself, escaping into the dark hallway. He tried not to acknowledge how much the room seemed to be spinning, realizing quickly that he was probably still very intoxicated. Blaine leaned up against his closed door and took a few long drags of his cigarette, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.
When he heard the creaking of a door opening, his heart sped up in surprise and his body instinctively flooded with adrenalin. He snapped his head in the direction of the noise, squinting in the dark to see Thad leaving his and Kurt's room, clad in warm, daytime clothes and carrying a duffel bag and backpack.
"Thad?" The boy in question jumped at the call of his name and whipped around, narrowing his eyes in the unlit hallway to see his curly-haired friend. When he recognized the onlooker as Blaine, his body tensed up and he glanced at the bags in his hands guiltily. "Thad, what the fuck are you doing?" Blaine took a few steps to approach the other boy, eyes taking notice in how stuffed his bags seemed to be, but Thad didn't say anything in reply. "Thad!"
The dark-haired boy shushed him frantically, taking a quick glance around, then eyed Blaine with a frustrated expression. "You're gonna wake everyone up, you idiot!"
"What the hell are you guys doing?" Both boys jumped about a foot in the air when a groggy, mumbled voice came from the door next to Thad's. After a few moments of their hearts returning to normal speed, Thad and Blaine focused their attention to the head of blonde hair that was sticking through the door. Jeff looked half-asleep, his hair sticking up in every direction and his eyes mostly closed as he clutched onto the door to hold his balance. His eyes fluttered open slightly and he gave the two boys in the hallway an expectant look. Thad stuttered as he tried to cover up.
"N-nothing… We're just, um, having a smoke and-"
"What the – Oh, Jesus, Thad. You're not trying this again, are you?" Jeff interrupted, seemingly more awake as he noticed the bags in the dark-haired boy's hands. Thad dropped his things to the floor and let out an aggravated grunt.
"Jeff, not now. I just found out his condition worsened, he went into a coma, and-"
"God, you guys are freaking loud," Nick mumbled, appearing suddenly behind Jeff in the doorway, causing the blonde boy to inhale a sharp breath in surprise. "What's this 'bout a coma?" He asked groggily through a yawn, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Jeff drew his attention away from his roommate and faced Thad with a sympathetic, and shocked, look on his face.
"Theo's in a coma…?"
"…Yeah. I just got a text from my dad… He got a call from the hospital and…" The boy sighed, looking more vulnerable than he usually ever allowed himself to come off as. "I have to get the fuck out of here, you guys. My parents aren't back in the country yet and I can't leave him alone in there."
Both Nick and Blaine looked thoroughly confused, and Jeff just let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a sigh and whimper. The boy ran his hands over his face, then through his messy blonde hair.
"Shit, Thad. I know… I just… I still think it's risky…and… Screw it. I'm waking up Trent. He'll know what to do." And with that, the blonde boy strutted through the hall a few places down, and the rest of the boys watched in silence as he crept quietly in the familiar door, not bothering to knock or announce his presence beforehand. Blaine stood, his cigarette long burnt-out, and scanned the scene before him. Thad still looked upset and conflicted, whereas Nick appeared as confused as Blaine felt.
"So…" He ran his free hand through his tousled curls and sighed, facing Thad. "I'm sorry, but what exactly is going on?"
"My brother… He's in the hospital – he's in a coma – and I need to go see him… But these guys think it's a bad idea for me to skip campus…" Blaine nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing in thought.
"Why… Why do you have to skip campus…?" Thad gave him a disbelieving look, and he quickly spoke to explain himself. "I-I mean, why can't you just get a pass or something? They're usually pretty cool with family emergencies, right?"
Thad shook his head and sighed. "My family – my parents – are out of the country. And they wouldn't call in, anyway. I just need to get out of here, and if I'm going through the trouble of breaking out… I don't know if I'm coming back."
"What?" Both Nick and Blaine asked in unison, varying levels of disbelief and horror in their voices. Before Thad could elaborate, the three snapped their heads around to face the noise that was coming from down the hall. Jeff was frantically pulling along a possibly-conscious Trent, who looked a little more than pissed to be woken from his drunken slumber.
"Thad," the bigger teen grumbled threateningly, as he and Jeff approached the group. "Whus goin' on? Jeff's about to piss 'mself." The dark-haired boy sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night.
"He's in a coma, Trent. I need to get out of here... I need to go see him."
Trent nodded thoughtfully, running his hands down his face, trying to wake himself up. "Okay… Okay, we'll figure something out."
"Trent!" Jeff hissed, disappointed that the person he was counting on holding Thad back the most effectively, was actually encouraging him. Trent just shook his head and turned to face the lanky blonde teen.
"Jeff, bro. I'm sorry, but I can't deny him the right to see his brother when he's like that... When Ben died, I would have done anything to be there… Not that Theo's gonna die, Thad," he added quickly, noticing the look he was getting from the dark-haired boy.
"But – but he's not coming back!" Nick accused, pointing a finger at Thad, who looked pissed that he was about to escape without that certain aspect being brought up. Trent's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"What, now?"
"Trent, hear me out. I just want to stay with him until his condition improves… But I don't know how long that'll be. And if I miss enough school, they'll send me to juvie anyway, and I figured if I can sneak out, I could just lay low a while and-"
"Run from the cops?" Trent offered sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Thad sighed and threw his arms up in the air.
"Yes. Yes, something like that."
Trent blinked a few times and nodded. "Fine. I still agree that you'll regret not seeing him, and I'm still standing by what I said and I'll help you get there… But fuck if I care what you do after you're out of this place." Jeff, Nick, and Blaine all looked horrified at this, their mouths falling open in shock, and Blaine stepped forward to come closer to the two boys interacting.
"Wait. Thad. Think this out a little bit more, please," the curly-haired boy pleaded. "You're throwing away so much. You're going to be running away from the police for God knows how long, and your brother's not even conscious, he won't even know you're there-"
"No! Fuck you!" Thad spoke as loudly as he dared and stuck his finger in Blaine's face. "If you haven't noticed, B, our lives are already in the fucking garbage! And – and you wouldn't even begin to understand how important Theo is to me!" Blaine flinched back away from the boy, hurt twisting on his face. Thad's voice steadily rose as he continued yelling at the boy. "You don't have a brother – or – or anyone who loves you like that! You h-have no one! You have – you have nothing!"
All the air rushed out of Blaine's lungs. It felt like he had been punched in the stomach and jumped away from the other boy as though he had been burned.
You have nothing.
Nick's jaw fell open. "Dude, Thad-"
"No, no he's right. I don't have a brother…" Blaine all but squeaked out, taking a hesitant step back towards his dorm room. "I… I don't know what it's like…to…have someone like…that." The curly-haired boy awkwardly left the scene and opened his door, mumbling something that sounded like 'I have nothing' before disappearing behind his door.
Everyone continued staring in shock at Thad, who simply remained stuck in place, face not changing from his irritated, heated expression. Before anyone could comment, he hurriedly grabbed his bags from the floor and faced Trent.
"So, what's the plan?"
Trent shook his head briefly, trying to recover from the odd outburst from his friend. He looked thoughtful a moment before responding. "I think… Okay," he said with a determined tone, seeming to have decided something. "I'm not letting you go out by yourself, and get your ass caught, bro. This is how we're gonna do it."
Blaine stepped into his room and found himself having to hold a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his obviously hysterical breathing quiet. He knew if he let his hand fall, and continued in his uneven, hitching breath, he would start crying, and that just wasn't happening.
After settling down slightly, he knelt down onto the floor and pushed up the carpet, lifting up the floorboard, trying his best to make minimal noise. He lifted out his prized box and placed it on his lap, staring at it for a few seconds, suddenly feeling hot liquid run down the sides of his face. He quickly realized he was crying and his hands flew up, angrily rubbing the tears away.
"What're you doin'?" Blaine heard his roommate mumble quietly, startling him and causing him to snap his head around, seeing the boy had sat up slightly and was giving him a curious, confused look.
"I'm – nothing. Sorry, I'll be quiet," he assured Justin frantically, but the boy leaned over from his position to see where Blaine was kneeling, his eyes running over the removed floorboard and box in his lap and sighed irritably, then collapsed back onto his bed, yanking the covers over himself.
"Whuhever," the boy murmured in response, then seemed to fall back into a deep sleep as his breath evened out, leaving Blaine to resume his actions.
He yanked the lid off the box and began to ready his supplies, preparing a dose of drugs. He really did have nothing. He had said it to himself before, as some kind of reason or justification for his actions, or as a way to remind himself that he wasn't jeopardizing anything when he did stupid, irresponsible things. But when someone else said it… He angrily increased the portion of white powder, not quite reaching two doses. He figured that if he got especially tired when he was generous with the dosage, this amount was bound to help him sleep. He knew it could be dangerous to not gradually up dosage, but what did it matter?
He did, after all, have nothing.
Without giving it a second thought, he heated the contents of the can and readied the large amount of liquid into his syringe, sitting on his bed to better position himself for the sleep he hoped would come, and jabbed it into his arm.
Then darkness took him.
All the while, Trent had called his cousin, who advanced to call in a family emergency to the school. As the campus guards and dean, who had been woken up at the call, were preparing the student pickup for Trent, Thad had snuck out past the main gates, which was a surprisingly easy task, and was making his way to the stretch of road that was past the school's entrance, although he was having a bit of trouble proceeding with his plan.
"-about your parents? You don't think they'll kick your ass when they find you missing?" Jeff increased his pace, trying to catch up with the dark-haired boy. Nick was soon on Thad's other side.
"Seriously. And did you even think about it here at Dalton? They're going to notice you're gone in a few hours when you don't check into breakfast." Nick eyed the other dark-haired boy carefully, trying his best to make out his facial expressions in the still-dark air. Thad's face just morphed into an even more irritated glare and he finally stopped walking and whipped around to face the two boys.
"What do I have to do to get you two off my fucking case?"
Jeff's lips tugged downward, and his face shifted into a look of concern. "We're just worried about you, Thad."
"Well…" The boy held the bridge of his nose. "How's this? If you guys cover for me, if you just tell them I'm really, really sick – you can tell Kurt to have it look like I'm in the bathroom puking when they come looking for me, or something – then, Nick, I'll give you the money you need to repay Vince."
Nick looked appalled and opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by his blonde roommate.
"Done. But I can't guarantee how long it'll give you. We should be able to get you a few hours at least, probably enough time for Trent to drop you off, and for you to get settled and everything. But sooner or later, they're gonna try to find you, and notice you're not there." Thad nodded in reply, looking relieved that he finally seemed to make some sort of agreement with his two friends. Nick still had an expression of shock and slight embarrassment on his face.
"Thad… Do you even have enough for that?"
The dark-haired boy sighed. "Not on me, no. But you guys are already out here, so might as well come with us to the nearest ATM. It'd be easier for you to sneak back onto campus once classes start, anyway." Nick still seemed reluctant at this odd deal, but Jeff nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes. We'll do it. We'll cover for you… But only because this is Nick's wellbeing we're talking about here…" And the blonde boy gave a small look at Thad. "And I have to say, Thad, it's kind of low of you to dangle Nick's safety in front of our faces… Bribe us to make your escape easier…" Nick's glance shifted to the floor and he shuffled his feet around the ground, feeling slightly awkward at how the conversation had turned. Thad merely shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and giving them the shielded, defiant look they all knew so well. "But we'll still do it."
Kurt's eyes were glued to the door, silently praying to the God he didn't believe in, that a familiar blonde or dark-haired head would come bouncing in through it. He drummed his fingers anxiously on his desk, his other hand in his mouth as he chewed off the remainder of his fingernails. No amount of stress justifies this, he thought vainly to himself, tearing his hand away from his teeth. He glanced to his right, sharing a brief look with Wes, who looked even more nervous than he felt. That couldn't be a good sign.
The bell echoed throughout the building and the chatter died out slowly within the room. Their English teacher, Mr. Goff, hopped up from where he was busy looking over papers at his desk and turned to face the class.
"Alrighty, everyone. Today, I… Boys…" Kurt, Wes, and David immediately tensed as their teacher's gaze bore into them. They all knew that tone too well. Even though he simply had used the word 'boys,' and they went to an all-boys school, suggesting he could theoretically be addressing any of them, everyone knew that was not the case. When Mr. Goff said 'boys' in that special tone like he had just said it, he was specifically calling out the seven boys Kurt had come to know very well. Eight, Kurt added mentally, realizing he was now included in this group that often got scolded. He wasn't sure if Mr. Goff simply noticed all the bad things he and his friends did, and decided to ignore the rest of the students' behavior, or if he actually disliked them. There really isn't much of a difference, Kurt decided. "…Any reason why most of your little group is absent from class this morning?"
David instantly perked up into attention. "Blaine is in the medical wing," he informed the teacher hastily, hoping that having a good reason for at least one missing student would impress the man.
Mr. Goff's eyebrows shot up slightly in surprise and he approached his laptop and opened it, seemingly checking David's claims. "Yes, I see that… And Mr. Nixon has had a family emergency?" The teacher questioned them lightly, obviously reading the memo from the information the administration exchanged.
All three boys shared a quick look, eyes widening at this information. This was news to them. Wes suddenly nodded rapidly, and cleared his throat. "Y-yes, sir. Trent, um, left before breakfast this morning," he added randomly, hoping to distract Mr. Goff from the other three missing boys.
"Ah. Well… I hope nothing too serious happened with his family. And Mr. Anderson… Is he alright? What happened for him to be sent to critical care in the hospital wing?" A few boys in class from their floor shrugged, seeming to not have known anything had happened to the curly-haired boy. Kurt blinked a few times when their teacher stared at him directly, giving him an expectant look.
"I – we don't know…what happened to him…sir," Kurt tried lamely, but his teacher raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"Mr. Hummel, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Thompson," he spoke as he addressed them each individually. "I know you're all very good friends with Mr. Anderson. And you seemed to know that he was taken to the medical wing… Surely you have some idea why."
David ran a hand over his head and stared at the chalkboard. "He overdosed," he mumbled quickly, then rested his chin on his hand, his mouth forming a tight line. The teacher looked stunned, letting out a breath in surprise before turning his face towards the floor and nodding thoughtfully.
"On?"
"H-heroin…" Wes offered quietly, noticing how extremely silent the classroom had grown. Mr. Goff only nodded, then went up to grab a stack of papers from his desk and began passing them out.
"Well, I'm sorry to…hear that. Now!" He spoke up and addressed the class as a whole. "You will partner up and begin working on a new project today." The class moaned and even a few 'boo's were heard, the students not afraid to show their disapproval of the required task. "Now, now! Gentlemen! Each pair will be each given a different short story to read, my choice, of course. Then, as partners, you will write a single paper, reflecting on tone and mood, respectively. Two pages on tone, two pages on mood. No more, no less. Understood?" He got no acknowledgement in reply. "Alright, so, I'll give you a couple minutes to find your-"
"I'm sorry to interrupt Mr. Goff?" The teacher turned his head to the doorway where a security guard had addressed him. The man was holding onto both Jeff and Nick, both his hands on one of their shoulders. The two roommates looked positively frazzled, not in uniform, and their faces and posture gave away how little sleep they seemed to have gotten. "I was informed Mr. Sterling and Mr. Duval are supposed to be in your class this hour? They were found wandering the grounds and were not present during morning rounds or breakfast." Mr. Goff sighed in irritation and nodded, and the security guard released them and the two boys stumbled into their usual seats.
"Well, that clears up four of my five problems. Do you two boys, by any chance, know where Mr. Harwood could possibly be?" Nick and Jeff exchanged a quick glance, but before either of them could reply, Mr. Goff turned to Kurt. "What about you, Mr. Hummel? You never mentioned anything before. He is you roommate, is he not?" Kurt's eyes widened dramatically and he opened his mouth to respond hesitantly.
"He…"
"He's really, really sick, sir," Nick cut in, making Kurt raise an eyebrow at the two boys questioningly. "He, um, was too sick to even get up for breakfast… Right, Kurt?" The pale boy only nodded quickly in response, not wanting to say anything else in chance of putting his foot in his mouth.
"Well, alright. You should see that he is attended on by a nurse, or taken to the medical wing, Mr. Hummel. It's your duty as his roommate to be responsible for him." Kurt simply nodded again, not daring to say anything in response. "As I was saying, I will give you all a few minutes to find partners for the new project. Choose carefully, you will have to write a paper with this person. And the grades you receive on the project will determine whether or not you will be required to attend the midterm prep session on Thursday. The papers on due this Wednesday, gentlemen. Okay, pair up everyone!"
Immediately, the five boys all turned toward one another, heads close together.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on? And where are Thad and Trent? Did he really have a family thing or-?"
"No. He faked that so he could sneak Thad out. Thad didn't have any family that was able to call in, so Trent snuck him out when his cousin came to pick him up this morning."
"So why exactly did Thad need to sneak out, again?" Kurt questioned the two boys in a hushed tone. Jeff ran a hand through his hair and gave a quick glance around before facing the pale boy.
"His brother's in a coma." Both David and Wes made twin pitying faces in reaction to the news, but Kurt simply raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"I didn't even know Thad had a brother…"
Wes's eyebrows flew up in surprise and he leaned in closer to Kurt, watching his face for his reaction as he spoke. "Thad never told you…? He has a twin brother, Kurt," the Asian boy informed him gently, knowing how shocking news like this could be. Sure enough, Kurt immediately gasped and tensed, eyebrows knotting together in his confused attempt to understand.
"Wow…"
Nick nodded, sighing at the idea of Thad sitting beside his brother's hospital bed, worry etched onto his face. "Yeah… He kind of might not come back, either…"
"What?" Wes, David, and Kurt all hissed in unison, faces basically identical expressions of shock. As the class began quieting down, most students seeming to have chosen partners, Nick shook his head, sighing slightly.
"We'll explain later," he promised, turning his attention slightly back to the front of class before eyeing the surrounding desks, looking especially at the empty one next to Kurt, usually occupied with a particular curly-haired delinquent. "Wait, where's Blaine?"
Kurt kept his head down as he exited his chemistry class, his thoughts in so many places. Jeff had filled him and David in on Thad's crazy plan during their last class, though he assured them that Trent would try to bring Thad back when he returned on the weekend. Kurt stared blankly at the ground he walked on, absently watching his black uniform shoes as they moved beneath him, seemingly on autopilot.
"Kurt!" The boy snapped his head around at the call of his name, stopping and coming slightly out of his daze, blinking as a blur of blonde came running up to him, waving something in the air. Jeff came to a halt next to him, slightly panting and out of breath from the run, and held the object he was waving earlier to the pale boy.
Oh. It was his Chemistry notebook. That would have been a drag to lose…
"Thanks, Jeff… Didn't even realize I left it in there..."
"Yeah, no problem. So… What are you doing right now? You have a free hour, too, right?" Kurt nodded, his face void of any emotion. "Come on," the blonde boy waved Kurt in the opposite direction, pulling him by the elbow when the young boy didn't follow. "The guys who have off are going to visit Blaine… Come on!"
After arriving at the medical wing and signing their names in, the boys were led to the critical care unit of the area, sectioned off in a room in the back. Kurt wrapped his arms around himself as the woman leading them opened the door. There were six beds, each surrounded by a medley of expensive-looking, clean, professional machines. Only one bed was occupied, and Kurt's heart sank when he looked at the unconscious, curly-haired boy and so easily recognized him.
Two seats were already pulled up around his bed, filled by Wes and David, and Jeff walked past Kurt, leaving him in the doorway, frozen, and pulled up another two chairs. He sat down in one, then looked over his shoulder, confused as why the other had not already been filled. His eyes searched the pale boy's horror-struck face, and he noticed the death-like hold Kurt had on the frame of the door.
"Kurt? Come on, sit down," he offered, gesturing to the empty seat next to himself.
But Kurt remained still, too many flashbacks of too many hospital beds flooding his memory. Oh, how he hated hospitals. Why again had he agreed to come visit Blaine…? He figured a school medical wing wouldn't be as bad as a real, proper, hospital. And he had been sorely mistaken.
"You okay?" David questioned the young boy, having noticed Jeff's worried glance and following it, now focused on the pale, frightened face by the door. Kurt nodded frantically, then took slow, silent strides into the room and sat gingerly down on the plastic chair, noting mentally how they felt exactly like the ones in a real hospital. The entire time he moved, his eyes never left the lifeless body on the bed.
Blaine looked like he was hooked up to some sort of breathing device, a clear mask was surrounding his mouth and nose, held on by small plastic cords fitting around his ears. The mask was attached to a series of tubes and what seemed to be a pump, and his breathing was audible and throaty, like it was being processed through a machine, which Kurt realized, it basically was. His face was no longer as pale as it was in the morning, and they seemed to have removed his clothes, for where the blanket ended at his shoulders, his bare skin was visible.
Silence haunted the room, aside from the loud, obvious breathing coming from Blaine, and the steady beeping of his heart monitor, every second reminding Kurt that he was alive, that he hadn't lost someone else in a hospital bed, not yet. Jeff broke the silence by clearing his throat purposely and shifting his gaze from Blaine to the other boys in the room.
"So, do you think he's gonna, like, get expelled?"
Wes sighed tiredly and ran his hands over his face. "I don't know… Did we already tell you about rounds this morning?" Jeff nodded in reply and Wes rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. "Well, yeah. So, he could get busted for possession… But I don't know what they'll really do. Is that enough to kick him out?" But it was really a rhetorical question. Because no one really knew the answer.
And even though he knew no one would have an answer to this question either, Jeff felt the need to ask. "What about Thad…? What do you think's gonna happen to him?" Kurt bit the inside of his cheek and refrained from saying anything. He knew how stubborn his roommate could be, he was sure everyone knew. If Thad was determined to break out of Dalton, there was a good chance he would stick with it. David shrugged tiredly and Wes huffed, sounding slightly irritated.
"Why don't you tell us? You're the one who went along with him, and then shipped him off."
Jeff's face showed his obvious hurt and he lowered his voice. "Wes… You know I didn't want Thad to go… It was Trent who went and took him… And the only reason we went along was to get the money he said he'd pay us. And we had to get it! Nick could be dead right now if he hadn't paid that fucker back this morning!" Wes just rolled his eyes in return, his attention shifting back to the unresponsive boy lying in the bed in front of them. "Besides," Jeff continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "Trent said he's gonna try to bring him back with him this weekend. And if he comes back that soon, he won't get expelled."
A nurse appeared in the doorway and Jeff, Wes, and David all turned to see her face, looking surprised at the visitors that had come, while Kurt remained gazing intently at Blaine. The nurse gave them a small, gentle smile, though it seemed more standard procedure than anything, and made her way over to the patient. She began fiddling with his IV and David raised an eyebrow at her as she seemed to be connecting Blaine to some kind of medicine drip.
"What are you doing?" He questioned her politely, more curious than anything about what sort of treatment was being given to his friend.
"I've been instructed to start him on a low dose of naloxone. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, and this should bring him around very quickly, as well as help reverse some of the effects of the diacetylmorphine," she explained, finishing her actions and glancing over Blaine's charts. When she saw the boys were still giving her slightly unhopeful, expectant looks, she continued. "And, um, once he wakes up and we get him breathing properly on his own, he'll be ready to be released," she nodded, then left the room promptly, leaving the boys in the room in a slight confused daze.
"'Released'…?" David repeated, furrowing his eyebrows together.
"Like… released, released? Is he going to be able to stay at Dalton…?"
"We don't know, Jeff. We only know everything you know," Wes snapped at the blonde boy unfairly, who shrunk back slightly, a wounded expression falling over his face. He looked down to the floor and nodded, not seeing the glare the Asian boy was receiving from his roommate.
"Wesley. Don't be an asshole," David scolded him, then as he caught sight of the pale boy sitting next to Jeff, his annoyed expression dropped. "Kurt…?" But the small boy didn't respond, continuing his blank stare. Jeff tentatively placed an arm on his shoulder, initiating a violent jump from Kurt, causing him to nearly fall out of his own chair.
"Shit! Calm down, Kurt. It's okay…" The blonde boy saw Kurt's face twisted in worry as his eyes raked over the various machines and tubes surrounding Blaine. "They started him on that treatment, he'll be fine."
"Kurt, baby. I'll be okay… The doctors started me on a new treatment. I'll get better."
Kurt shook his head briefly, pushing away the sickening memories and facing the blonde boy. "'m sorry," he murmured, burying his face in his hands and letting out a shuddering breath he didn't realize he was holding. The three other boys in the room shared a quick look before Wes leaned over, trying to get a better look at Kurt's face.
"Kurt… You have nothing to be sorry for…" Wes said slowly, like he was truly trying to be sure the words were absorbed into Kurt's brain. The pale boy only nodded absently, not making eye contact with any of them.
After a while of general silence, David cleared his throat deliberately, and stood up. "Well… French starts in about 15 minutes. Should we…?" And without any other prompting, Wes and Jeff stood up as well, slowly making their way to the door.
"Kurt?" Jeff stopped in the doorway as he saw the young boy had not followed them. Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine and turned to face the blonde. "Are you coming with us…? To French?"
Kurt blinked a few times, then turned back around to face the curly-haired, broken, boy in the bed. "I – no. No, you guys go ahead, I'm gonna… I'll, um, be there in a few minutes," he assured them, waving his hand slightly in dismissal. Wes cocked an eyebrow, giving the young boy a questioning look, but before he could comment, he was tugged on the elbow by David, as the three boys exited the room, leaving Kurt alone with the boy he told himself so many times not to fall for.
"Oh God, Blaine… What have you done to yourself…?" Kurt spoke out loud, hardly above a whisper. He moved to the chair nearest to Blaine's head, and ran his fingers over the boy's collarbone, trailing feather-light touches in a way so delicate and intimate it even surprise himself.
He continued his physical exploring, his hands moving up to trace the outlines of the boy's chapped lips, the same lips he had given into. Twice. The lips that he had surrendered to, admitted defeat to, let take him and had fallen under the spell of. His hand next moved up to play idly with the small piercing that adorned the boy's eyebrow.
Kurt thought back to all the different identities and descriptions that had run their course in his mind, the terms that he had used to define Blaine.
First he was a mysterious bad boy, an attractive, mysterious bad boy. A stranger. One that seemed to practically electrify him with all the instant connection and pull he felt towards him, confusing Kurt with the spark he felt.
Then he was a friend. A nice, slightly confusing, gay friend who could randomly be hot or cold, depending on the hour. One Kurt saw himself so quickly falling for. Someone he knew he shouldn't go for, who was all wrong for him, but someone he still found himself trying to stay away from.
Next he was a player. An asshole who was trying his best to flirt with Kurt to hook up with him, just wanting him for sex.
Most recently he was a mess. A drug-addicted, manipulating mess, who Kurt thought lied to him so that he would trust him, so Blaine could get into Kurt's pants, not caring if he played with Kurt's feelings.
Now, as Kurt stared down at the boy, the mysterious stranger, friend, player, mess of a boy that had come so far in the terms of Kurt's opinion and interpretation of him, he saw something else entirely. Something that explained and covered all the other personas.
Broken, Kurt thought suddenly, his heart throbbing painfully in his chest as the realization fully took over him. He's so, so broken… That's why he tries to be a bad boy. And why he would be unpredictable with his moods, it wasn't just the drugs; it was him fighting between himself and the person he learned to come off as. It certainly explains why he hooks up with boys, and why he so passionately abuses drugs… Kurt felt a hot tear roll down his face and ignored the tickling it caused as it ran down his cheek, and the salty taste of it seeping into his trembling lips.
Broken. Not fragile, not close to being broken, or breakable. No, Kurt reached out for Blaine, through the material of the blanket covering him, and searching until he felt the other boy's hand. This boy lying in front of me is positively broken.
He remembered having this feeling before. Having these thoughts almost exactly, nine or so years before. Staring at his mother as Kurt realized she was done, that she was broken. But this was different. Blaine had the chance to come back from this. And damn it if Kurt didn't do his best to make sure that happened.
"All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down, my love
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
This time I'm comin' down…"
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, letting more tears drop heavily. He remembered singing to this very song, listening to the lyrics and crying when his mother had died. He knew it was a different situation, and that the lyrics weren't usually interpreted in the way of a drug addiction, but the lyrics felt so true at the moment, and he couldn't help it as the words escaped his lips.
"And I hope you're thinking of me
As you lay down on your side…"
Kurt reached out to run his hand along the boy's side, his body seeming to react slightly to the touch, but when Kurt's eyes searched his face for any kind of signs of consciousness, he found nothing.
"Now the drugs don't work
They just make you worse
But I know I'll see your face again…"
Kurt couldn't hold back any longer, letting out a strangled sob and breaking on the last syllable of the line. He reached out blindly, his eyes clamped closed as more tears fell, and clutched onto Blaine's limp arm, holding on tight enough that he was sure if Blaine could feel right then, it would hurt.
He continued singing, his voice quieter and strained, but it felt so, so good. He hadn't sung in so many months, hadn't used his voice in this way in so long. His voice echoed in the small, empty room, ringing out clear, regardless of the low volume.
Blaine's mind began clearing up slightly, and the first thing he acknowledged was the tight ache in his heart he got, as he heard hauntingly angelic singing. He had to force himself to stay in some form of aware state, not letting himself to drift back to darkness. He held onto the voice, and felt the grip someone had on his arm. As he pressed through, pushing himself into a more awake place, he realized with a sudden jolt through his spine that he recognized the voice.
Kurt.
He tried with all he had to open his eyes, to say something, to move his arm or grab the boy's hand. His body wouldn't budge. He momentarily dwelled on the fact that the pale boy had claimed he couldn't sing… But as soon as he gave up trying to make his body respond, he just focused on the effects of the gentle voice, letting his body be washed away in its surreal quality, its captivating value.
"But if you wanna show, just let me know
And I'll sing in your ear again…"
Blaine felt the young boy's body hunch over his as he sang the words, his body wracking with sobs. He rested his head on Blaine's chest, and the curly-haired boy could feel the warm, wetness of tears seeping through his blanket. He brought his head up as he sang the last lines of the song, repeating the words and his voice getting quieter as he faded out.
"I'm never going down, I'm never coming down
No more, no more, no more, no more, no more
I'm never coming down, I'm never going down
No more, no more, no more, no more…no… more…"
And with that, Kurt stood up abruptly, wiping his face roughly, ridding his face of the angry, miserable, hysterical tears. The tears that had so much meaning behind him. The tears that were a mix of horror from what had happened to Blaine and a distressed sadness of the memory of his mother. Sniffing a few times and trying to compose himself slightly again, Kurt fled the room briskly, and left Blaine alone, stunned and confused, wondering if the beautiful voice he'd heard was a drug-induced hallucination.
Maybe I'm dead…
Before he could entertain his thoughts any longer, darkness took him again, and he figured he would find out later, when he woke up again... If he woke up again.
"Hello?"
"…" Jeff heard a shuddering sigh on the other end of the line. The blonde boy glanced down to his cellphone, seeing the caller ID clearly said 'Trent.'
"Trent…? Thad?" He tried, lowering his voice at the second name. Thad had been found to be missing, that morning, after three days, when the boys couldn't keep up the sick charade anymore.
"Theo's dead," he heard the boy mutter painfully, recognizing the voice as Trent's.
"What?" Jeff could hear shuffling going on and finally a quiet click! which suggested Trent left the room he was in.
"Um… About…two hours ago…"
"Holy shit… How's… How's Thad?" Jeff heard another loud sigh, this one sounding a little more tired and distressed.
"Well… I mean, as you'd expect, I guess… Jeff, bro, he hasn't even said a word since it happened…"
"Was he there when it happened?"
"We both were… I don't know what happened really, but I guess his body failed, or whatever, and Thad just sat there, not doing anything…"
"…Fuck… Well, shit. Does that mean…? I mean, is he – is he coming back…? They… finally realized he wasn't sick in his dorm."
"…When?"
"This morning."
"How the hell did you guys keep that going for this long?"
"…I don't know. Kurt was able to play it up pretty well – wait. You didn't answer my question. What's Thad doing now that he doesn't have his brother to…you know. Is he gonna come back with you this weekend?"
"I don't know, man. I told you already, he hasn't talked yet… But I'm planning on bringing him back, if I can… But we'll figure out later, I guess… How are things around there? How's Blaine holding up?" Now it was Jeff's turn to let out a long sigh, rubbing his free hand over his face as he sat down on the edge of his bed.
"He's… Well, we found out yesterday that he's not being charged for possession again… I guess they're not really doing anything in response to what happened…"
"…Really?"
"Yeah… Well, no. No, they're putting him on level two probation, but they're not really doing anything… They're not kicking him out or charging him. They just released him on Monday night, and he went back to his dorm... Then last night, the RA came by to tell him he was on probation, and all that, so… Yeah."
"Fuck… H-how is he, though? I mean, they confiscated his stuff?"
"Yeah, and apparently his dealer's out of town. So… He's been having some really bad withdrawal... It sucks."
"That's rough, bro…" Jeff heard some noises in the background on Trent's end of the line and there seemed to be a woman's voice talking. "Look, Jeff, man. I gotta bounce. But tell everything I said hi, and I'll be back on Saturday…hopefully bringing Thad."
"Okay… Bye, Trent."
"Later, bro."
Jeff hung up and let his head fall back onto his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a long, even breaths. Theo was dead… That was a bad thing… A very bad thing. But in a way, if he was going to die at some point soon, better for Thad that it happened in this short of a time. Now he would be punished for being away past curfew, for breaking out of school grounds. Since he didn't miss enough school to forfeit his semester, 10 days, he would be permitted to continue his schooling, and wouldn't be punished for attempting an escape.
That was all if Trent was able to convince him to come back…
"Damn it!"
Jeff shot upright, snapping his head to face the door, where he heard the voice coming from. He ran out of the door and peeked his head out, seeing many other boys on his floor doing the same. He looked down the hall three doors, where he caught the last bit of someone entering the room, Blaine's room, most likely Wes or David, and by the looks of some of the boys in the hall that could see into the room properly, something was up.
Next to him, Kurt's door opened briefly and the pale boy poked his head out, a flustered look on his face, his hair damp and slightly tousled. Kurt gave the blonde boy a quick glance, blushing and looking away after the short-lived eye contact. Jeff raised his eyebrow questioningly at the boy's apparently embarrassed expression, and looked over the boy momentarily, fully taking in his appearance, and mentally finding it humorous that the boy was so shy about having being caught just out of the shower.
"Um, Kurt," he said quickly, when the pale boy was beginning to retreat back into his room, not quite seeing which room had been the cause of the commotion. "Should we go over there?" He stuck his thumb in the direction of Blaine's still open door.
"Is that where the yelling was coming from?" Jeff nodded in reply and without any other prompting, both boys began to make their way to said dorm.
When they came to the doorway, Kurt froze, mentally wondering why it seemed like every time he saw Blaine recently, he was freaked out to the point of his breath rushing out of him. Jeff scurried past him, finding Nick, Wes, and David already surrounding him on his bed.
Blaine was curled up on his bed, shaking violently, his body jerking every few moments. He had tears running down his face and with one hand he was clutching his stomach, and with the other, he had a grip on his right thigh. Wes was grasping one of the boy's shoulders, trying his best to cease his shaking, and David was trying to remove the tight hold the boy had on his body. Jeff approached the scene hesitantly, stopping next to where his roommate was standing. Nick noticed the two boys' presence and acknowledged them with a gently nod, then turning his attention to Blaine's roommate.
"Justin. Why the fuck haven't you done anything with him? How long has he been going on like this?"
Justin glanced up from where he was playing idly with his phone and shot a quick glance at his roommate, then shifted his attention to Nick. "I don't know. I came in here an hour ago and he was throwing up in the bathroom… Not my fault he fucked himself up."
Blaine suddenly bolted up into a sitting position and vomited, most all of it seeming to be water, the bile landing on his shirt and pants, as well as the bedspread. David and Wes jumped back instinctively, and Justin glanced over again, making a face at the mess.
"Screw this. I'm outta here," he grumbled, getting up to leave his roommate with his friends to deal with him. Blaine continued shaking, sobbing as he spit the remaining fluid from his mouth, tears continuing to flow from his eyes, his face twisted in pain. Wes's hands flew up to grab his own hair, yanking slightly and turning to face David.
"Okay. What are we doing? What're we gonna do?" David simply shook his head in response, eyes darting around the room to look for something that would dissipate some of their problem. He seemed to finally give up, letting out a defeated sigh.
"I don't know… We need to get to that prep session in five minutes."
"I'll stay," Kurt said suddenly, abandoning his spot in the doorway and tentatively approaching the group of boys.
Nick shot him a skeptical look. "You need to go to that, too, you know. It's mandatory."
"No, the paper I wrote for Blaine and me tested us out of it... Now go! You're gonna be late. I'll deal." He approached the curly-haired boy in the soiled bed and put a hand on his back, trying to silently guide him out of bed. The others in the room exchanged a few looks before leaving the room. "Come on, Blaine. Get up… We'll get you into the shower…" He took one of Blaine's arms and got him to weakly stand, having to support most of the boy's weight. As Kurt held the boy upright, he could feel how aggressively his body was shaking, hardly seeming to be responsive to his surroundings in his state of pain.
He led the curly-haired boy to his bathroom and set him down gently on the closed toilet, leaving him there to reach into the shower and run the faucets. Kurt stuck his hand to feel the spray, adjusting the temperature until it was comfortable and warm. He turned back around to face Blaine, seeing he was hunched over himself, face still contorted in pain as he whimpered quietly.
"Come here… Blaine. Blaine, come here," Kurt tried to yank the boy into a standing position, mentally reminding himself to never do hard drugs, if not just for the withdrawal possibility alone. He reluctantly complied, falling forward and resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. After making sure he wasn't getting any vomit on himself, Kurt carefully began untying Blaine's tie and shedding his blazer, removing it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The curly-haired boy let out a hard breath, and Kurt had to focus to keep him upright as he trembled harshly, his legs not wanting to support him.
"Kurt," Blaine moaned, his hand frantically coming up to grasp Kurt's hip, causing the young boy to raise an eyebrow in question and surprise, but not say anything. "I'm – I'm – oh God. Kurt, I'm so sorry," he breathed, as Kurt was concentrating on unbuttoning his white oxford. He finally was able to remove it completely and cleared his throat, trying not to get turned on by the bare, sweaty chest.
I didn't think chest hair would be one of my turn-ons… Kurt mused absently. He was drawn back into reality as the grip on his hip tightened and Blaine groaned out in pain again, tumbling down onto the floor and flinging the toilet lid up and emptying his stomach roughly. Yeah, not so turned-on anymore…
After the boy was done vomiting, Kurt flushed the toilet for him, and handed him a wet washcloth. Blaine sat up next to the toilet and Kurt closed the lid, helping the boy to sit back on it. Despite his severe trembling, Kurt fought to undo Blaine's belt, popping the button and pulling down the zipper of his pants, still avoiding getting throw-up on himself. He patted Blaine's thigh lightly, silently asking him to lift his hips so Kurt could pull the slacks off. He folded them and picked up the dirty clothes from the floor, bundling them together in his arms. He pulled a clean towel out from a cabinet and placed it on the counter, and turned to leave the room when he felt a hand fall onto his shoulder.
Kurt turned around in confusion to see Blaine holding onto his shoulder for support, head down and eyes closed and he started to step out of his boxer-briefs. Kurt's face flooded with color and he whipped his head around, determined to not have this the first time he saw Blaine's penis. Not that I'm planning on seeing it on any other occasion! Kurt was jolted back into reality when the hand on his shoulder became heavier and he had to drop the clothes in his hands and whip around in order to prevent Blaine from falling over.
Kurt's face turned into an impossibly even-redder shade when the boy fell into his arms, completely naked, his body jerking, his skin burning hot. He felt like he had a fever.
"Sorry, b-baby. I'm – I'm s-sorry. I – I feel so...so-"
"It's fine, Blaine. It's okay. Just…let me help you get into the shower. It's been running for five minutes, already," he mumbled in reply, keeping his eyes on the ceiling, trying to ignore the fact that Blaine's naked leg was daringly close to his half-hard penis. The curly-haired boy nodded stupidly, then allowed Kurt to lead him until he was under the running water, the heat causing him to moan in relaxation, thus causing Kurt to bite his lip in sexual frustration. "I'll, um, be downstairs. Taking your clothes and bed sheets to wash them. I'll be right back. I'll leave the door open i-in case you need some…help getting out…"
"Thank you s-so much, Kurt, baby. I'm – I'm a fuckin' mess. Thank you…so much for this…" His voice was muffled by the noise of the water, and Kurt just nodded in reply, trying to decide if Blaine calling him 'baby' annoyed him or made his stomach flutter. He was pretty sure he knew which one it was. He gathered up the clothes again and walked out of the bathroom, throwing them onto Blaine's bed. He stripped the sheets, bundling up the clothes within them and hauled the entire load out of the room, making his way down to the laundry room.
When he returned, he began replacing the bed sheets with an extra set from Blaine's closet, when he heard a loud thump! coming from the bathroom and a resulting strangled moan. Kurt sprang up and ran over, flinging the shower curtain open only to find Blaine curled up in the fetal position on the bathtub floor, his back (thankfully) facing Kurt. Kurt turned the shower off and reached to grab the towel and draped it over Blaine's waist.
"Blaine…? Blaine, are you okay…?" All he got in reply was a cry of discomfort and the boy in the shower brought his legs up to his chest and squeezed his thighs in his hands, his face so twisted and wounded-looking that Kurt couldn't stop himself from bending down and brushing the sopping curls from Blaine's face, panic running through his body. "B-Blaine, baby?" Kurt widened his eyes at his own words. Where the hell did that come from?
"M-my legs," Blaine moaned. "My legs are – are killing me!" Kurt nodded frantically, trying to think of anything that would help. He shot up to his feet and wet a washcloth with cold water, bringing it back and pressing it against the boy's aching body, keeping it on his thighs.
When the hell did this happen? Kurt thought to himself as Blaine's whimpers began to subside. When did I get so incredibly attached to this boy? I've hardly known him for over a month and yet here I am, worrying my heart out over him, taking care of him like I would one of my best friends… Calling him baby…
Blaine tried with all his might to control his shaking. His body was aching all over like a constant pressure was pushing him from all directions. His legs were the worst, though. They ached and twitched and burned and it was like an itch he couldn't properly scratch, no matter how hard he tried. He pressed against them and grabbed at them, but the ache remained. The cool towel helped at first, but the fever on his skin just seemed to heat it up. He needed something, anything to help this pain.
"S-sing for me, K-Kurt," he breathed out, stuttering over his words. Kurt froze in his actions of running his hand up and down Blaine's back.
"W-what?"
"Sing for m-me. Please. It's s-so pretty…"
Kurt nodded slightly, realizing suddenly that Blaine must have been in some state of awareness when he was in the medical wing, and resumed his rubbing on the boy's back.
"What do you want me to sing?" Kurt all but whispered, and he paused his actions to reach around Blaine's face and brush the hair from his eyes.
"Anything…"
Kurt swallowed and cleared his throat quickly, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to think of something to serenate the sick boy with. It was strange, really, trying to think of something to sing after so many long months without singing. There should be a million songs that his voice is dying to hold, yet one popped up in his mind that he'd sung so many times before.
"No more talk of darkness
Forget these wide-eyed fears
I'm here
Nothing can harm you
My words will warm and calm you…"
The words left his mouth like he had been practicing every day. There was no hesitation, no obvious flaws from his voice being so long neglected. Kurt's hand found a comfortable place on the small of Blaine's back, just pressing softly, hoping something from the song and some of his strength could be transferred to the weak boy, whose body was trying to remind itself how it worked without heroin.
"Let me be your freedom
Let daylight dry your tears
I'm here
With you, beside you
To guard you and to guide you…"
Kurt hesitated slightly before jumping into the female part, usually not sung accompanying the male part as one solo. But he figured the upcoming lyrics needed to be heard as well.
"Say you love me
every waking moment
turn my head
with talk of summertime
Say you need me with you
now and always
promise me that all you say is true
that's all I ask of you…"
Kurt's breath hitched in his throat and he found himself unable to continue. He swallowed loudly and patted Blaine gently on the shoulder, urging him to move from his place on the cold, wet floor of the shower.
"…Why'd you stop?"
Kurt just blinked, staring down at the crumpled person, so oblivious to what place singing holds in his heart, how much singing shaped so many parts of his life. "Come on, Blaine… Get up, I'll get your bed ready for you. You don't want to stay in this bathtub."
He helped the boy to his feet and wrapped the dark blue towel more firmly around his waist, leading him into the other room and helping him onto the almost-prepared bed. Kurt pulled on the last corner of the fitted sheet and threw the covers on, placing the pillows gently at the head of the bed. He gingerly helped Blaine into the covers, and once he was secure under the protection of the blankets, he pulled off his towel, and handed it helplessly to Kurt, his own eyes falling shut from exhaustion.
The pale boy sighed, rolling his eyes, and brought the towel up to begin drying off Blaine's still soaking wet curls, rubbing it on his hair vigorously. He left it draped over the boy's head and left to approach his dresser. Kurt rummaged through the top drawer, and pulled out a pair of dark red boxer briefs.
"Here. Put something on," he tossed them on the bed but Blaine made no sign of responding, his eyes still closed and the wet towel still hanging over his head, half-covering his face. He looks so pathetic… Kurt raised an eyebrow and sighed again, stepping over to the boy and snatching the underwear from where he had thrown them earlier. "You want me to help you put these on, Blaine…? Or do you not want to put them on?"
Blaine's eyelids fluttered and he seemed confused and ended up just nodding slowly in response, resulting in the towel falling from his head and onto the ground, and closed his eyes again.
"Yes, what? Yes, you want help? Or yes, you don't want them?" But the curly-haired boy just curled into his own shoulder, body still clearly shuddering, whether from the drug-withdrawal or from the fever, – which was from the drug-withdrawal – Kurt didn't know.
Kurt sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and pushed up the comforter to reveal Blaine's feet. He tugged on the underwear, lining them up on his feet, and began to raise them up Blaine's legs. When he got to the point where he couldn't move anymore, Blaine lifted his hips, Kurt could feel his body trembling from the strain, and tugged them up all the way, carefully avoiding touching any unnecessary places.
"Kurt… Kurt, I r-regret so many things… I-in my life…" Kurt watched with curious eyes at Blaine's sudden confession. He took a seat on the bed beside the boy and found where his hand was beneath the blanket and grabbed it through the material, squeezing it gently. "I… I f-fucked up…so bad. I'm so sorry… Everything I did to you," he mumbled, his voice getting weaker and weaker as the sentence went on.
"Shh… It's okay… I…forgive you… I – I understand, Blaine. I should never have thought that quitting this was something you could do on your own. I'm sorry for putting you in that kind of situation…" At this, Blaine opened his eyes slightly, taking in Kurt's sincere face and letting a tiny smile grace his lips, though it soon was replaced with a pained look.
"The… The f-first time I did it, was on m-my birthday," he spoke in a soft, slow voice. Kurt could tell from the way Blaine's voice sounded and from the look in his face that this wasn't something he told a lot of people. "I was 15… M-my parents were in Italy… And they didn't remember…it was my birthday. And I-I had already done…other stuff, but nothing like…that. And it was a F-Friday, and there was a party…in my neighborhood. So I went. And there were these guys doing it… And I just did it," he added the last part in almost a whisper, sounding confused like he couldn't even justify the reason himself. "And then two months later, I got c-caught. And sent here."
Kurt stroked the boy's hair with his other hand, pushing the damp curls away and gently running his finger over his piercing. Blaine made eye contact with the boy and his eyes looked so insanely sad that Kurt's heart dropped just seeing them.
"I made…so many mistakes…in those t-two months… Two months. I… I lost the only friends I had… I…" He trailed off, his face breaking into a painful, wounded expression. His breath hitched and he started hiccupping in dry cries. "I… I… lost…my v-virginity…to a guy…who…who…s-said he'd give me smack if I…b-blew him…" Blaine let out a true sob, surprising Kurt in the raw emotion he was seeing. "He… I…s-started doing it…and he d-didn't stop… He…just did it…to me… But…I didn't tell him to stop…"
Kurt was stunned. He had no idea what was driving Blaine to tell him these things, and he had no idea what to respond with. He ran his hand up and down the boy's side in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He shifted and scooted a bit closer until he was sitting next to the crying boy, and pulled him so he was partially lying with his head on Kurt's shoulder, and just ran his hand up and down and up and down his arm, making soft, shushing noises, realizing how oddly similar this comforting was to when Blaine had found Kurt after his nightmare, though the roles reversed.
"Anywhere you go
Let me go, too
Love me
That's all I ask of you…"
Blaine ceased his crying, attempting to get his breathing in check and back to normal and determined to not let himself feel embarrassed about what he had revealed. He'd never told anyone about his loss of virginity, and yet, he felt he wanted to. He needed someone to know what that drug had taken from him, everything it had taken from him. He now had nothing…
And yet, as he heard Kurt humming the tune of the last line over again, he realized something. Maybe I do have something... If I have a precious, beautiful boy singing to me when I'm in a sick, drug-detoxing, daze. If I have a life where I can hear that voice just one more time, it's all I ever really need. If I have a life where Kurt is part of it, regardless of whether or not we're involved, or having sex, or not having sex, I have something.
Yes, maybe he did have something.
Kurt looked down at the paper in front of him.
Suppose that A, B, and C are 3 points in a plane, such that AB = AC = BC = 1. At each point in time, A is moving toward B, B is moving toward C, and C is moving toward A, all with speed v = 50
Kurt looked to the model at the left side of the page with a cocked eyebrow. Maybe he should have been paying more attention in Calculus… If this was the kind of thing that was going to be on the final in December, he was royally screwed. The midterm he had earlier that day had seemed so…simple.And this diagram just looks like a bunch of crazy triangles mixed together!
At what time(t) will all the points be the same point? Express your answer to the third decimal place.
"You know what I mean, Kurt?" Kurt glanced over at his roommate, who was laying fully on his bed, third cigarette of the night in hand, looking at him expectantly.
After Thad's brother died, he had returned back to campus that following weekend with Trent. He then proceeded to tell the teachers and staff that he had been wandering around campus for a week, and since they had no proof or security footage of him sneaking out, he was only punished with being out during curfew and not attending meals and classes.
"I'm sorry…? I wasn't listening."
Thad blew out the smoke from his mouth and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to face Kurt. "Just that it's unfair of them to put me on level three. I mean, right before a holiday? If I had an actual family that loved me and everything, I wouldn't even be able to leave for tomorrow… What are you doing?"
Kurt didn't even glance up as he responded. "I'm just finishing some Calc that's due next week because I'm actually planning on rehearsing this weekend. I mean I get that last weekend was really the first time Blaine was able to sing, so before that it was just getting the whole group in order, but seriously. Still sounds awful. And I'm waiting for a call from Jeff because we have a lab report due Monday and he's going away for the weekend and-"
"Kurt," Thad interrupted him, his eyebrow raised. The young boy looked up at him with curious eyes. "I meant for Thanksgiving. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
Kurt returned his eyes to his paper and a slightly sad, fond smile graced his lips. "Oh," he breathed out lightly. "I'm just staying here, I guess…" Thad nodded, seeing the obvious hurt that was in the pale boy's face.
"Yeah, well… Fuck family, right? Most of the guys are staying here, anyway."
Kurt nodded. Sure, it stung that his family hadn't contacted him yet. Except for Finn, who texted him every so often, and called him a couple times. But he really did want to rehearse with the Warblers that weekend. Even though Blaine knew he could sing, he still hadn't told the others. He was waiting for the right time. But on the up side, during the few weeks they had begun regular practices, they had managed to get the entire group therapy class to join them, and they were all really starting to sound like an a cappella group, regardless of the fact that Blaine had still been too sick to join them until the previous week…
Kurt's thoughts were cut off as his cell phone started ringing on the table next to his bed. He snatched it up hastily, not even bothering to check the caller ID, already knowing who it was.
"Jeff. So, do you have the charts we filled out? Because I thought I had them, but-"
"Kurt?" Kurt froze. That was not Jeff. That was most certainly not Jeff. He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced down, noting that the caller ID said 'Home,' not 'Jeff.' Home… Kurt nearly scoffed, thinking how little meaning that word had anymore.
"I – Hello…? Carole…?"
"Oh! Sweetheart! It's so nice to hear your voice! How are you doing?" Kurt had to stop himself from getting too angry. He knew this day would come. He knew – or hoped, rather – that his family would someday call him and want to get back in touch. He just didn't think it'd be Carole… Or that she'd sound so…happy…
"Er – hi. Carole… I'm…" Kurt glanced around the room, mentally thinking back over all the experiences he'd had in the past five or so months since he'd last spoken properly to her… In the past two months, even, since he'd been at Dalton. "…okay…"
"…Well, I'm glad to hear that… So, Kurt," she began, taking a different tone of voice, "I wanted – we wanted – to know if you were willing to come home for Thanksgiving."
"…Thanks – Thanksgiving?" He sat upright, causing Thad to look over curiously. He mouthed 'who's that?' but Kurt ignored him and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. "Thanksgiving's tomorrow…"
"…Yes. Yes, I know. I'm sorry it's very short notice, but we've called the school and arranged for you to be picked up in two hours in you were interested…" Kurt said nothing in response. Was this how he was now? One of those kids who were practically strangers with their parents? Whose parents treated them like some kind of business partner…? "Kurt. I'm so sorry that we've been so distant. Your dad misses you so much…"
"He hasn't even talked to me," Kurt choked out, trying to refrain from crying.
"He was just so confused about how to act around you, dear. He's been beating himself up for a while now, feeling so bad about what he did to your relationship… Please come with us tomorrow, Kurt. It wouldn't be family if you weren't there… We all want to see you so much…"
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, finally letting tears fall. "Yeah. O-okay… But you better let me cook, because I've seen you both in the kitchen. I can't fathom what has become of that household's meals."
"Yeah, you hold onto it. I'll probably lose it," Jeff smiled, raising an eyebrow at the stack of papers Kurt held in his hand. Kurt chuckled in reply, knowing how flaky the blonde could be. He walked Jeff to the door and gave a small, half-hearted wave and was about to turn back into his room when he heard a distinct, loud cough coming from down the hall. He glanced down briefly, finding the door he had suspected was ajar, leading him to think the worse.
He fled his room instantly and reached the open door in a matter of seconds. But to Kurt's surprise, Blaine was simply sitting up in his bed, his roommate gone, a cellphone in his hands as he coughed. At Kurt's entrance, the curly-haired boy glanced up.
"Oh, um… Hi, Kurt," the boy smiled, his pierced eyebrow cocked, slight amusement in his eyes as he took in Kurt's concerned expression.
"Oh… I – sorry. I just heard you coughing… I thought you were, like, throwing up, or something." Blaine's eyebrows both shot up at this and he gave the boy a curious look. "I… I was just worried."
Blaine placed his phone in his lap and nodded, looking thoughtful as his lips came together into a tight line. "I, um… So, Jeremiah's coming back next week…" He said, holding up the phone as though in proof.
"'Jeremiah'…?"
Blaine nodded and sat up straighter, his face looking contemplative. "Yeah. My dealer… He… He's been out of town for a few weeks."
Kurt frowned slightly, then nodded understandingly. "So that's why you haven't had any…drugs…for a while…"
Blaine just blinked in response, his face expressionless as he stared into Kurt's deep eyes. "I'm not gonna call him… I'm not gonna have him come visit me…"
Kurt blinked a few times in surprise, his mouth falling open slightly in shock. "…Oh?" Kurt made his way over the Blaine's bed and the boy made room for him to sit down beside him.
"Kurt… Jeremiah being gone wasn't the only reason I put up with going through withdrawal… I still mean what I said about quitting for good…" Kurt didn't say anything in response, just continued staring at the boy in front of him, whose expression shifted into one of slight pain and guilt. "And Kurt, I'm so sorry I fucked up so bad… I know you said you understand, and you said these past few weeks that you wanted me to get through this before we could be anything, but I want you to know that this was all for you and that you mean so much to me and – mph!"
It was so unlike any of their other kisses. It was slow, and chaste at first, and sweet. It wasn't rushed or caused by hormones. It wasn't lust-driven or alcohol-induced. It was gentle. And it was perfect. Kurt brought his hand up to cup Blaine's cheek, and deepened the kiss slightly, as Blaine placed one hand on the pale boy's waist, pulling him a tad closer.
Kurt pulled away, his eyes instantly opening to meet a pair of wide, hazel ones. Kurt's lips tugged up slightly at Blaine's stunned appearance, his eyebrows practically at his hairline and his mouth still parted slightly, searching the young boy's glasz eyes for some sign that the kiss was a joke, or didn't actually happen. Kurt leaned forward once more, pecking him lightly on the lips and standing up from the bed, leaving Blaine breathless and speechless.
"I just found out I'm going to spend the holiday weekend with my family... My stepbrother is coming to pick me up in an hour and…I really should start packing. I'll see you on Sunday evening…" Kurt stood in the doorway, about to leave when he turned back around, a smile gracing his lips. "Happy Thanksgiving, Blaine."
A/N Ta da? Hope it wasn't TOO angsty... Next chapter will have some of Kurt's family at Thanksgiving!
It will also be a little bit not-as-horribly-depressing!
Oh! Oh! Also, songs were: The Drugs Don't Work-The Verve & All I Ask of You-Phantom of the Opera