Title: Jokers Wild
Rating: T/PG13
written for tumblr prompter veryjellychelli
PureReflection: I will try to fill yours next; I like the idea too.
"What a pair we make". - missing scene in 3.05 The First Time set directly after Blaine leaves Kurt at the bar and Rachel and Finn have their fight.
Blaine's self-righteous walk home lasted all of about twenty minutes before he was too dizzy to stand up straight, let alone point his feet in the right direction and actually walk the full ten miles back into town. He wasn't even sure he could even feel his feet right now. He couldn't really feel anything, except the odd floaty feeling in his limbs and the burning guilt in the back of his throat, because he was an asshole; an actual asshole and he deserved to die alone and angry on this back stretch of road down the way from a seedy gay bar with cheap beer.
He was already face down on the asphalt before he even realized he'd stumbled over the loose gravel lining the shoulder of the road. There was a stinging, sharp pain jumping across his nerves coming from his elbow and the thought of moving was suddenly too exhausting. Logically though, it probably wouldn't be his best life-decision to continue lying in the middle of the street. Plus, it was cold.
He managed to sit up and drag out his cellphone. The light from the screen hurt his eyes as he squinted through the blinding haze, waiting for a name he could decipher in his current state to jump out at him. Most of them just looked like a jumble of letters and numbers, an incomprehensible mess, until he scrolled past one that finally made sense to him.
"I think the road just hit me in the face," he said, well aware of how slurred his words sounded, when she picked up the phone with a hesitant hello.
"Blaine?" she asked, confusion ripe in her voice.
"Lots of people call me that," he laughed though his voice held no trace of amusement, "though I'm more likely to respond to drunk right now."
"Where are you?"
"I don't really know," Blaine frowned, looking around at his spinning surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.
"Is your GPS on?" she asked, sounding extremely concerned. "Turn it on and I'll come find you, okay?"
"Okay," he answered softly.
By the time Rachel pulled over on the side of his road, he was curled on his side in the grass, trying to sleep. He really just needed to sleep because if he did that, then maybe it would all be a bad dream. The rolling in his stomach disagreed with him, but then again, everything and everyone disagreed with him, so how was this any different? She muttered a soft "oh Blaine" as she knelt down next to him, trying to kindly shake some consciousness back into him. He gave a few unintelligible grumbles before he managed to sit up on his own accord, though he needed her help in standing and it was her arm snug against his waist that allowed him to make it to her car without falling. He discovered he had some pride left, however, when he was able to buckle his own seat belt.
They drove along in silence for awhile and the small glances of pure anxiety she kept sending his way were almost as awful as the pain he'd seen in Kurt's eyes when he left. The pain he had put in his eyes. The worry he was putting in her eyes. Because he was an awful fucking person who hurt people. He was selfish, needy and selfish and a useless pathetic excuse of a boyfriend and it made him feel sick. Actually, physically sick.
No, really, he felt like he was going to throw up.
"Stop the car," he groaned, clutching one hand to his stomach and clapping the other over his mouth. Rachel slammed on her brakes and he flung the door open. Not even bothering with the seat belt, he hung over the edge of her car and gagged. His eyes watered from the sheer force of it all, and he couldn't exactly breathe at all. It felt like he was drowning or being set on fire and just when he thought it was all over, another round of bile invaded his throat.
"It's okay Blaine," Rachel whispered, rubbing circles into his back. "It's okay."
He must have fallen asleep afterward because the next thing he knew, Rachel was pulling into her driveway and turning off the engine. "Come on inside," she said. "We'll get you cleaned up before I drive you home." It wasn't until he was inside in the kitchen and she was helping him out of his jacket that he noticed the dark chalky lines of mascara marring her face. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the longest one that curved around the apple of her cheek and stopped just on the edge of her jawline. He tried to wipe it off with the pad of his thumb, but it only smeared under his touch. He quickly turned the sink on and let the tap water soak the cuff of his shirt before he turned back to her as he again attempted to clean her blackened skin.
"You shouldn't have to cry," he muttered as he worked around her eyes carefully, removing every flake of makeup he could.
She gave a small sniff and suddenly she was wrapped around his chest, hugging him tightly. The movement put him slightly off balance and he swayed into the counter top. "He didn't want me," she said sadly and he wasn't sure he understood exactly what she was talking about. But his arms fit around her shoulders in the most natural way and he was still that needy, selfish person he had been in the parking lot, starving for human comfort so he let her hold him because she needed it too.
It dawned on him in the shower, the water and subsequent steam shockingly sobering, what she had been implying. Not understanding the obvious thing being pointed blatantly out to him was the running theme of the night apparently. Kurt had told him to back off and he hadn't listened. Rachel had practically told him Finn threw her away and he hadn't listened. Because he was a pathetic excuse for a friend even and that was almost the worst of it all.
"What happened?" he asked, drying his hair with a towel as he sat down next to her on her bed. She started crying again as she told him how she's offered herself to Finn for all the wrong reasons, how upset he had been and how she wasn't sure how to fix it. What she'd done, she said, was worse than cheating on him. This time, it had been entirely her fault but it still hurt oh so much when he left her sitting all alone on his living room floor. He didn't want her and it was her worst fear. She cried into his lap and he was the one rubbing circles into her back this time, whispering that it would all be okay. That she was beautiful and of course she and Finn would work this out. That no one in their right mind wouldn't want her. He said all the things she needed to hear and found himself believing them as he spoke.
When she finally sat up and asked him what happened, he could only laugh. It was a bitter sound, harsh and cruel, and it unnerved even him, but there wasn't much else he could do. "I fucked everything up," he croaked and buried his head in his hands as he spoke about their night at the bar. How he let another man get him drunk, how he essentially accosted Kurt in the back of his car and the fight they'd had after. He never wanted to hurt Kurt, he begged her to understand. He was stupid and drunk and frustrated, but he never imagined being that kind of person.
She assured him that he wasn't, that he was a good guy, that even the best guys make mistakes. When he lifted his head, she reached over and cupped his cheek in her palm, repeating their unofficial mantra of "it will be okay" under her breath as she leaned her forehead against his. She was so close, and so bright, but so broken. She looked like he felt but there was something to be said for the feeling of knowing he felt with her in this moment. Like he knew himself better looking through her eyes.
Who started it, he wasn't sure but kissing Rachel was incredibly comfortable. In the depths of his mind, he knew it was equal parts uncaring and vicious, but most of him was simply awash in the warmth of her lips on his. It wasn't even a terribly sensual kiss; simple really, mostly closed mouth though there was a moment when he caught her bottom lip between his own and he couldn't resist taking it just a bit further into his mouth. She might have whined, he didn't know, but eventually they pulled away, and she was looking at him with the strangest mixture of shame and curiosity. He would have bet a hundred dollars that his face looked the same.
"I'm a really shitty boyfriend," he said, falling onto her bed, looking up at the ceiling.
"I'm an awful girlfriend," she said, falling back in the same manner, curling into his side.
"What a pair we make," Blaine laughed and surprised himself with the traces of humor he heard in it.
"Two of a kind," she agreed, lacing her fingers through his. He turned to look at her and she was gazing back at him, her expression an open book and that alone was enough to calm him down. She wasn't angry, or hurt, or defensive. She was just there, in that moment, sharing it with him and he could hear her voice in his head as if she had really spoken.
We'll be okay.
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