A/N: I got a few messages from people saying the chapter wasn't working, and it hadn't been for all day. Really sorry for the spam if you've read already, but i don't know how many this is affecting. I suck, i know. But this site keeps mucking everything up, so i gotta try. Re-upload...please dear god work!
Oh God you guys, I am so sorry for the delay; the world of exams are upon us ,as i'm sure you know, but therefore, old Effy here must actually work. (Work? What is this witchcraft of which you speak?)
My first is on May 7th and its 10 hours long...I want to die
Though at least I don't have any on my birthday this year, which is a plus. (Some of you from last year (oh God I've been on this site a year now!) will know I had a biology exam then which put a damper on the whole day.)
Oh and now i'm curious as to how old people think I will be this year? It's always interesting to know.
But anyway, here is the chapter, I hope you enjoy.
It all happens in the blink of an eye.
Kurt starts to scream; his voice high and wracked with sobs.
Burt Hummel rushes into the room and cradles his son close to his chest.
And Blaine finds himself evicted from the room, with no explanation; abandoned and alone in the hospital corridor.
Crying and tears and sadness and just so much horror that he wants to die. He wants to die!
10 minutes later and Blaine is still slumped outside the hospital door. He keeps getting stares and odd looks from passersby, but he doesn't care.
He doesn't care about anything but Kurt.
He was insensitive as hell; he realises that now. But God...what Kurt had said.
That stuff...that had actually happened. All of those, terrible, terrible things had actually happened.
To Kurt.
To his Kurt.
Stop thinking about him as your Kurt, he hates you right now, and God does he have a good right to.
And then those...marks on his back.
What the fuck were they? Because they most certainly did not look like any run of the mill scratches.
What the hell caused those?
Blaine just wanted to go back into the room and take Burt's place. To hold Kurt to his chest and be the one to bring comfort, not the one to bring...whatever that was. He wanted to hold Kurt tight and never let go. To be the little and big spoon all at once. To give and to take affection as freely as he could. To shelter Kurt and keep him safe, and have Kurt do the same for him. To kiss him and have him and love him.
That's what he wanted more than anything. But no...typical Blaine had gone and fucked everything up...again
Why is he here, why didn't they just let him die, let Jeremiah finish him off...they should have just left him...he shouldn't be here, he should be dead. He's supposed to be dead. Why isn't he dead?
Kurt was shaking in his bed, his entire body wracked with tears and his breath coming out in short bursts. His heart monitor was going absolutely ballistic and there was now an overwhelmingly loud ringing sounding out across the room.
Why was this happening to him? What had he ever done to deserve this?
Was he a murderer in a past life? Had he pissed off some deity with his atheism? Jesus, what the fuck had happened to warrant this karmic mugging?
His dad was at his side moments later as Blaine fled. He was gently scooped into his father's arms as the elder man began to stroke his hair, telling him it would all be ok. Daddy was here, as if he were a little kid. Kurt trembled and grabbed hold of Burt's shirt with his free hand; holding on for dear life. His tears began to soak into Burt's shirt and he knew there was snot and mucus was joining the mix but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop.
Burt cooed sweet nothings into Kurt's ear for several long moments until the boy started to calm down. His grip loosened slightly on Burt and his body began to slump.
Slowly, very slowly, his breathing started to even out and eventually his heart monitor started to beep at the normal rate, signalling the boy was ok just as he slipped off into a drug and dream ridden sleep.
Blaine was still deep in thought when a sudden large presence made its self known. He had been sat outside the room for the last half hour, not knowing what to do with himself. But he had a feeling he was about to be chucked out for good as Burt Hummel stepped up to the boy and glared down at him.
'What the hell did you do to my son?' he growled, eyes narrowed and looking horribly like a rabid dog – all that was missing was the foaming mouth.
'I-I...Mr Hummel you don't-'
'I wouldn't finish that sentence if I was you Anderson.' Burt said. 'My son has just spent the last 30 minutes crying like a little kid into my shoulder. He has completely exhausted himself and gave me and the nurses one hell of a scare when his heart monitor started to freak.'
Blaine blanched.
'Do you know what you did? In all my years of being a father the only time I have ever seen him that distraught was when his mother died. His mother died Anderson. Do you have any idea what that was like? What it was like to tel your son that his mother is gone forever and watch him sob for days because of it? Because I do. And believe me, it was one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever witnessed.'
Blaine just sat there, not knowing what to say.
'I want you to tell me exactly what happened, and if you don't then you sure as hell won't be coming back here again.'
Blaine's voice broke again as he tried to speak. His throat kept clenching, stopping his speech and making him seem like an idiot. Burt just glared.
'I...' Blaine finally managed to get out, after at least a minutes stuttering. 'We were just talking Mr Hummel...I don't know what happened, I thought...we just...it was like a normal conversation...well, you know what I mean but, he just...he suddenly started freaking, and then he just said everything, everything. He told me all that happened, and what that- that bastard did to him and he told me he wanted to die and I just... then he started crying and screaming and I didn't know what to do...I didn't... but... but then you arrived and I just...Eugh'
Burt's eyes were wide when Blaine finished. Blaine averted his gaze from the man; eyes shining with unshed tears.
'I'm so sorry Mr Hummel, I don't...he...I just- I'm so sorry.'
Burt just stared at him.
'He...said he wanted to die?' he said in disbelief. 'He said that?'
Blaine's eyes widened comically, actually taking in the words.
Kurt had said he wanted to die.
Kurt had said he wanted to die.
Oh God.
'...because dying would have been better than coming back to this.'
Oh God.
'Oh my God.' Blaine murmured, his head sinking into his hands. 'Oh God, Oh God, Oh God...no, no, no, no...Oh God.'
Burt went against his better judgement and bent down to Blaine's height. The kid was all out crying now and- fuck; he couldn't bring himself to yell...damn Kurt for messing with his emotions– the threatening demeanour began fade as Burt laid a warm hand on Blaine's shoulder. The boy flinched.
'I...I didn't know Mr Hummel, I didn't think that this could...I...Oh God. I didn't realise-'
'Hey...calm down kid.' Burt said gently watching as Blaine's head started to shake.
'It's all my fault' Blaine moaned into the fabric of his sweater. 'It's all my freaking fault. Stupid, fucking idiot'
'Whoa.' Burt cried, tightening his grip on Blaine. 'Stop right there. Unless you did all that to Kurt and kidnapped him yourself, this is not your fault.'
Blaine shook his head. His glistening curls waving slightly.
'How about we go sit down somewhere and you tell me what you know Blaine.'
Blaine raised his head, blinking back tears. His eyes were red and his cheeks damp and pink tinged. He looked a mess.
'Come on.' Burt said, moving his hand from Blaine shoulder and locking onto Blaine's wrist, pulling him to his feet.
'Kurt's asleep for now; we can go to the cafeteria.'
He could yell at the kid later. Right now he needed to stop the crying. He didn't need another over emotional teen on his hands. A traumatised Kurt was enough for a life time.
...
Locked in his room with his body half bound to the bed by slings and machines; Kurt Hummel was dreaming.
Of a shadowy room and a tall man.
Of yellow hair and rancid breath.
Of unwanted kisses and a gleaming knife.
In his dream he was back in the room where he had spent the last month of his life. There was no light, yet somehow Jeremiah's face was illuminated. Bright and visible with that terrible expression on his face
His eyes were sparkling as he ran the edge of a blade across Kurt's tear sodden cheek. Kurt tried to move, tried to escape; to run and scream and get away from here, but his limbs were bound. It was as if he were super glued to the wall, he couldn't move at all. He tried to open his mouth and scream but no sound came out. His throat was burning as he tried to call out for help. It felt like someone was pouring lava down his windpipe whenever he took a breath and his eyes were stinging as red hot tears pooled within them.
'It's ok Angel.' Jeremiah was saying. 'I'm here. It's all going to be ok, just you wait. Soon you'll be where nothing can hurt you.'
Kurt tried to shake his head, but nothing happened. His eyes were wide and he wanted to shut them, but they wouldn't budge. All he could see was that disgusting face.
'I'm waiting for you angel.' Jeremiah said, moving forward and licking up the side of Kurt's cheek, following the path the knife had traced. 'I'm already here. But you're not. I'm so disappointed.'
Jeremiah leant forward and slowly began to pepper sloppy kisses up Kurt's face. His tongue continuously snaking out to touch and taste and Kurt could feel the bile rising in his throat.
Then Kurt's sticky cheek was greeted with the blade once more. Though this time there was an added pressure and a high pitched laugh and Kurt could feel it snag and tear at his skin.
He tried to scream but still nothing came out.
It was like ice and fire merging together to create an indescribable agony. Melting at his skin and sending daggers all through his body. Slowly, so very, very slowly, Jeremiah worked the blade up towards Kurt's eyes. Kurt moved his gaze and he could see the red running below them, feel it streaming down his face in impossible quantities.
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Oh God, so much pain, and he couldn't stop it and he couldn't scream and there was no one there to help him, and Jeremiah was going back down and it was on Kurt's jaw now and still he was carving and still there was agony and blood and the bones beneath Kurt's skin were creaking and cracking, adding to the utter hell of it. He could hear them snapping, hear them crumbling, hear the blade slicing and hear Jeremiahs deep breathy moans as he worked.
'I'm not worried Angel.' Jeremiah cooed. 'You think your safe down there...with your family and dear old Blaine. But you're not. They don't want you there. They don't want you messing up their lives. That's all you do isn't it... you ruin everything.'
Jeremiah pulled the blade from Kurt's skin with a sickening squelch.
'Why do you think it took them so long to find you? They don't care. You're nothing but an inconvenience. They were glad you were gone. No need to worry about the troublesome homo, was there? '
'You're nothing. Nothing. Everyone hates you. They want you gone. They wanted you out of their lives for good. I'm the only person who will ever love you. That's why you need to join me angel'
Kurt trembled. No, no, no, no, no. He wanted to scream. Get away from me, get back. You're lying, I hate you.
'No one Angel...just. Little. Old. Me...but I'm not here, am I...'
Get away, don't touch me, stop it, stop it, stop it. I hate you.
'Remember what I told you about Romeo and Juliet...they die Angel. Not everyone gets a happily ever after. And you never will...who would want you. The damaged little homo. No one Angel...No one will ever want you. You'll be alone until the day you die.'
Jeremiahs face twisted into a smirk.
'But that's not too far away, is it? Come on, do everyone a favour...just finish what I started Angel. Finish the deed. They saved you the first time, you can finish it now. Maybe this time you won't fail. God you can't even die properly, can you? Failing at even the simplest tasks'
Slowly, Jeremiah stepped back; spinning the blade around his fingers with practised ease.
'Just go. Just get it done with. No one will save you. They'll just leave when you get too much; even dear old Daddy and Blainers.'
No. You're lying. Stop it. They don't hate me...they don't, you're lying.
Jeremiahs smile widened as a small figure appeared, coming up from a cloud of swirling fog until they were standing next to kurt's captor. Slowly the figure wrapped a hand around Jeremiahs waist and one around his neck, then leant in, pressing their bodies flush together as their lips locked. Kurt could hear the slurp of tongues and the moans of arousal; and as the figure pulled back his face became visable. Kurt didn't need to squint. He already knew it was Blaine.
Blaine kept his hand on Jeremiahs hip and he smiled wickedly over at Kurt.
'I never wanted you.' Blaine stated. 'I wanted him. I can't believe you were so stupid Kurt. You thought those coffee meetings were dates? How cute. We only spoke because I pitied you. Hell I don't even like you. You're so pathetic. Just look at you. Crying to a guy you've barely met...honestly, and you claim you have class.'
Blaine stepped forward, slowly moving towards Kurt until they were just a hairs length apart.
'I don't want you Kurt. I never wanted you and I never will. Just do us all a favour and go...finish what he started. The whole plan was for you to die. Please, just do it. Join him.'
Suddenly the knife appeared in Blaine's hand and Kurt wanted to be sick.
'I've wanted to do this for so long.' Blaine said as he held the blade up to where Jeremiah left off. Slowly he pressed down on the skin of Kurt's neck, before quickly pulling back.
'Don't worry Kurt. It'll all be over soon. You don't stand a chance.'
Then Blaine swiped the blade across, ripping across Kurt's throat sending blood across the room, soaking his face and clothes.
But he just laughed.
In what seemed like slow motion, Blaine stepped back and started to kiss Jeremiah. Their mouths worked wickedly and Kurt could still hear it all. But the two didn't care. The moans and sighs rang out across the room, all whilst the pair kept their eyes on Kurt, watching him crumpled on the floor as the life slowly left his eyes.
A/N: Here endeth the chapter
Little message here. My previous beta-y person has vanished off the face of the planet, bringing much sadness :(. But if anyone would like to help me vis-a-vis that kinda jazz instead, then that would be great.
I'm talking prompting when I slack and letting me bounce ideas off you; also helping me check the chapters to see if they are shit. So yeah...anyone want to help a gal in need?
But anyway. The last episode killed me. All my Blaine-feels came to light, but I am so glad they addressed the issue of New York. Am I allowed to hate Chandler purely because he represents yet another RIB love triangle? Because I kinda do.
However, this season has been generally fabulous, so I shan't complain. These upcoming episodes will break me, but I don't mind. I shall sacrifice myself.
Until next time my dears! Keep being Awesome!