A/N: I am so, so, so sorry that this didn't get out sooner. My computer crashed and I almost lost this entire story - cue panic attack - but I managed to fix it and so life is good once again. To everyone who's sticking with this story, I thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart :) Sorry about all of the cliffhangers, but a fic this angsty/dramatic/etc kind of thrives on them!
Enjoy!
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All of a sudden the attacks come half as frequently and twice as frantic. He's twirling at dizzying speeds, dodging and twisting and trying to stay focused enough to drown out the wailing in his ears long enough to calm down.
"Stop," he mutters, "Stop it. I'm trying, okay? Stop!" and by the last word he's almost shouting. Every sound is directed at Sebastian, but how are any of them supposed to know that? He loses his train of thought when an ice chip flies past his head. An…an ice chip? Then he listens. Things stop. Things start up again, with fighting and shouting and yelling, but the bracelets stop sending electric currents through the wearers. Blaine breathes a sigh of relief internally. An ice chip means that, well, Kurt is fighting now. He's stopped trying to protect Blaine and see the good in him and all of that crap, and it makes sense.
Does it hurt to see the only person who'd given him a chance give up on him? Sure. But is the alternative so much worse? Definitely.
That's how things have been feeling lately, he thinks, like he has to settle for the lesser of two evils every time he makes a decision.
And all of a sudden, things take a turn for the deadlier.
He hears the air moving in a rush behind him, parting for somebody who can move just as fast as Blaine, but not without momentum. He knows, intrinsically, that it must be Sam, but all his body thinks is enemy and without a second thought he turns and pulls the plasma gun from the holster, as if he's being doing it his whole life, and shoots at a forty five degree angle behind him. It's a perfect shot; of course it is. He'd expect no less of himself when faced with a real enemy, especially after all of that backbreaking training. It's finally paying off.
It takes about two beats before the horror sets in. He didn't know Sam all that well, no, but all it takes is one gasp for all of the movement to stop. Kurt's eyes are as wide as saucers, blue and confused and tear-filled (and no, he can't stop watching Kurt, but is that his fault?). Puck is literally shooting flames from his fingertips.
"What the hell, man?" he shouts, and things start to get real. Sam was never the enemy. None of them were and none of them are, but Blaine just crossed the line. Up until this moment, he was still 'man.' He was still friend, still Blaine, still that guy who's been acting weird but it's not his fault.
Now? Things are changing, because Mercedes and Quinn and Rachel are all rushing over to look at Sam and Kurt is rooted to the spot and Puck looks murderous. They're all realizing that maybe Blaine is the enemy after all, and maybe he always was.
He takes the brief respite in fighting to stand on his tiptoes and stretch his neck until he can see Sam over Rachel's fluttering figure. His heart drops at the dirt and grime and darkness that he can only pray aren't burn marks smattering the boy's skin. That's all he is, really: a boy. Blaine feels that telltale pit settling deep in his stomach and through him, somehow, like he's not worth enough to even inhabit. Someone yells his name randomly, helplessly, and Mercedes glares. "That's not Blaine anymore," she spits with venom.
That's not Blaine anymore.
The words echo hauntingly because they're true. He wishes he knew who he was. He wishes he knew who he's become. He's a monster; that much is true. But is he salvageable? Is he even worth trying to save?
The answer feels like it should be no when it swirls around his head, but it dissipates too quickly for him to get a proper reading. It could've been a yes, whispers the little hopeful voice in the back of his mind, speaking up because every other part of his is brimming with self-loathing. He could still be him. But one look down at the weapon in his hand brings the hatred crashing straight back.
Blaine wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just shoot someone like that, without even thinking about it. He wouldn't. Would he?
No, he thinks, trying to salvage some tiny part of his sanity, he wouldn't.
The breeze blows hot and sweet into their faces, nothing blocking it from where they are. It's stifling. The concrete and the grass and the trees and the sleekness of the buildings all contrast until his head spins. He feels the tight material of his shirt clinging to his chest, and he can't breathe. He can't. This isn't him.
He's about to bolt when Sam yells out, "WAIT!" and he stops cold. Turns slowly. Looks back.
He isn't even bothered about not being able to see behind him. Somehow, he doesn't think that any of them would hurt him, and how twisted is that? That he doesn't believe that any of them have it in them to kill somebody they used to be friends with while he goes around shooting old acquaintances with a plasma gun like life is just some freaking party and it's at his place. His rules. His everything.
He hates himself so much it's like a tacky layer of glue stuck to his skin. Every time he tries to peel it off another piece of him goes with it, and he's tired of fighting. He's tired of all of this.
Backup is on the way, says Sebastian, and Blaine starts at the intrusion. Okay. Backup. Is that a good thing? He's trying to think but it's hard to when his thoughts are rushing so fast and he's still trying to keep an eye on Sam while being incapable of looking away from Kurt.
…
The Warblers come in a swarm. There are far more than Blaine had anticipated, and his heart sinks. It'll make things easier, though. Just drive them off, right? Right. Of course. No one needs to get hurt.
It hits him a second too late that these soldiers must have powers too, because all of a sudden the ground is shaking, shaking, shaking beneath him.
He mouths 'sorry' at Kurt, because Sebastian must be watching the Warblers (he'd never miss such a grand entrance), and his eyes are wide and apologetic and he nearly adds 'I love you,' but it turns out that the blue-eyed boy wasn't looking at him after all.
Blaine doesn't blame him.
...
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Also: what's your favorite part so far? or do you have any speculations as to what could happen next? I love hearing what you guys think!