Prompted! I enjoyed writing this a lot. I may write more in this verse, I'm calling it my PFLAG Verse. :) Warning for a bit of cussing. Don't own anything!
Darkness.
That was all Blaine could feel. It seeped into his limbs, freezing him solid. Light quietly slipped into his eyes as he blinked them open.
Oh God... he thought. I'm dead.
He had to be in heaven. The room around him was pure white, bright lights shining from above. But what really convinced Blaine of his suspected demise was the angel sitting in front of him.
A boy with chocolate colored hair and pale skin stared at him, concern and fear in his lovely lily pad eyes. He gasped, reaching at something on the bed Blaine was lying on. A young woman scurried in before Blaine could speak, murmering kindly. She scurried around for a moment before leaving.
The boy leaned down slightly, grasping Blaine's hand and smiling brilliantly.
"Hello," he whispered. His voice was like chiming bells, low but definably feminine. Blaine briefly wondered if you were allowed to marry angels once you were in heaven. The boy's face strained and ever so beautifully, he laughed.
"I think you're on one too many pain meds,"
Oh. Blaine must have said that last bit out loud. But wait, pain meds?
Am I in the hospital? he wondered. Again he must have spoke his thoughts. The angel's face fell.
"Yes. Do you remember what happened?"
Flashes of the Sadie Hawkins dance.
Pain. Screams. A final bang to the head.
"Oh, yeah," Blaine muttered. "Where's Luke?"
Pity crossed the boy's face and he stroked across Blaine's knuckles with his thumb.
"Y-You got it worse than him, he's banged up and shaken, but you've got a fairly severe concussion,"
Blaine processed this for a moment, anger shaking him. But he noted the boy seemed to be avoiding something.
"Can I see him?" he asked. Tears flooded the boy's eyes. He swallowed.
"He... He's said he doesn't want to see you. He's decided to go back in the closet."
"W-what?"
The angel squeezed his hand.
"It's not your fault, Blaine. It's the cowards who did this," said the boy bitterly. Nodding, Blaine squeezed the boy's hand back.
"Well, I'm not going to hide who I am," he said. This seemed to overjoy the angel, he smiled hugely, gazing at Blaine with something strange in his eyes. The Warbler couldn't help but grin back. He bit his lip.
"So, um, not to be rude, but who are you?"
The boy giggled.
"Oh gosh, right, you don't know who I am," he breathed. "I'm Kurt Hummel, my dad goes to the same PFLAG group as your dad,"
Blaine smiled and held out his hand. Looking regretful, Kurt let go of Blaine's hand to shake his offered one.
Dang, didn't think about that, thought Blaine. He sighed. "Blaine Anderson, but I guess you know that,"
Eyes meeting, the pair chuckled akwardly, glancing away.
"Your dad will be back soon, he went to go talk to Luke's parents about legal stuff real quick. Your mom is picking up your brother from the airport." Kurt explained.
Blaine's honey eyes widened.
"Wow. My dad is in PFLAG and my brother actually gives a crap. It's a miracle."
Kurt nodded in agreement.
"I found out about my dad's PFLAG's adventures last night. I understand your confusion."
Was that a bit of wit Blaine detected? Could this boy not only be gorgeous, but charming and funny as well?"
"I'm sorry about your boyfriend," said the boy in question.
Blaine laughed. "Oh no, I mean it's awful he's going to let them oppress him like that but we weren't romantically involved. The only love we shared was a huge crush on Hugh Jackman."
Again, the boys laughed breathlessly, Blaine's ribs aching.
"He's not the boy's next door," winked Kurt.
Blaine gaped. "You know Peter Allen?"
"Of course I do!" Kurt gasped. Playfully, he swatted at the injured boy's arm. As they calmed their laughter, Kurt's face grew grave.
"Blaine?" he murmered. The Warbler smiled.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay? You're acting awful chipper for someone who was the victim of a hate crime last night..."
Blaine looked away. "What time is it?" he whispered.
"Blaine..."
"No!" his loud voice shocked them both, as well as his tear-filled eyes, which brimmed over. "I-I'm mad! Of course I'm mad! Why did they have to do that? Why is it their place to judge me? Or who I love?" He glared at Kurt, taking in his tear-stained skin. It was so damn beautiful. "And why is it your place to understand? You don't understand, nobody does! Nobody knows how it feels to just want to take a boy to the freaking dance and to be punished for it! To just want to wear a damn nice bow tie and to have it destroyed by fucking biggots!" He broke down, crumbling in on himself. "I... I just wanted to wear the damn bow tie!"
Kurt took a deep breath. Once Blaine had calmed, he reached to his neck, removing his tie and gently tying the bow around Blaine's neck. It hung loose, lying against the blue hospital gown. Fingering the soft white fabric, Blaine looked up to capture the other boy's soft gaze. A beat passed and Kurt began to speak, slow and exhausted.
"Blaine you're absolutely right. I have no clue about what you went through last night. But I do know what it's like to be bullied. I know what its like to have my clothes or to feel like life is so unfair that it may not be worth it anymore."
Blaine blinked down, not wanting to face the angel's seeing stare. The teen let out a frustrated sigh.
"No, listen Blaine!" he said. "You are loved. You are cared for. You are not alone and those damn psychopathic bullies cannot touch that."
Kurt's words were met with silence. After a moment, Blaine smiled slightly, wiping away his tears and tightening his new bow tie. Just then, the door burst open, Blaine's father and a middle-aged man wearing a cap stating "Hummel Tires and Lube" entering.
"Blaine," his father gasped. "Son, I'm so sorry, I was off handling some things, they weren't expecting you up till later this morning."
Surprised by his father's speech, Blaine leaned forward, sweeping his father into a hug. "It's okay, dad. It's absolutely fine."
As they pulled apart, Blaine noticed Kurt and who he assumed was his father sneaking out the door.
"Wait! Kurt, you're coming back right?" called Blaine, blushing slightly. The men at the door glanced at each other, Kurt's cheeks coloring as well.
"I'll come back after school," Kurt promised. His dad coughed gruffly, glancing between the two boys.
"I'll text your dad Kurt's number, you can text him while he's in class," he said. Blaine nodded, beaming. The pair turned to leave, Kurt grinning back at Blaine. The boys spoke at the same time, blushing more than ever.
" Thank you," "Thank you,"