Title: Creeping On A Stranger
Word Count: 7,585
Summary: Seblaine Week 2014: Day 1 (Alternative Meeting). Sebastian has always had a habit of getting in the way and making a nuisance of himself. Since his little sister had gotten sick when he was eleven, he has spent years trying to gain back the attention of his parents.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.
Warnings/Spoilers: Angst (perhaps not safe for consuming prior to the holiday period?). A very important note at the end of the chapter.
Sebastian wouldn't say he goes into exile. He wouldn't describe it as such, because there's a great many things he still does but…he's definitely aware of how he retreats from those around him in the weeks after he visits Lillian and Blaine in the hospital.
He still answers Blaine's calls and texts but the space he'd asked for so he could figure out his feelings is easily granted. The messages are sporadic, only every few days to share a random story rather than prying into how he's doing. He's grateful beyond words that Blaine doesn't pressure him into opening up but the other boy also doesn't drift so far away that he feels abandoned and unable to reach out to close the gap. He wonders if Blaine understands what to do because he had his own crisis and his friends and family hadn't been so supportive, but it hurts too much to think about for too long. He'll never understand why more people aren't drawn to Blaine simply because he's a shining ball of hope and optimism.
Hunter still helps him with homework because he struggles to pin the words down on his own, but there's a distance between them that almost borders on uncomfortable sometimes. He feels awkward in his own skin, stepping out of Hunter's way rather than really engaging with him. He doesn't know how to meet Hunter's eyes and his roommate is apparently unsure how to check he's okay without being blatantly demanding. It never gets confrontational but he's conscious of the itching he feels on his skin whenever Hunter gets too close and he's not fast enough in scooting away. He thinks he sees a hurt look on Hunter's face one time but he doesn't like looking too closely.
Wes still watches him at meal times like he's an animal in a zoo, a scientific study that requires constant and studious observation. He wonders if it's done deliberately, if maybe Wes is trying to unnerve him to the extent that his patience unravels and he rises to demand knowledge about Wes' thoughts while he stares across the dining hall. He wonders if Wes is waiting on him to take up the offer of help. He thinks Wes will be sorely disappointed considering he's been staying away from almost everyone for his own sanity as well as not getting into fights.
Mrs Fincher holds him back a couple of times to ask him how he is and if he needs any help with his homework. He brushes her questions aside with polite smiles and courteous responses before rushing away. Even his Chemistry teacher asks him questions one time after class when he'd had to stay back and finish the work before he left – a challenge which felt impossible when the page was filled with chemical symbols he didn't know and they wouldn't stay still long enough for him to decipher.
He starts to think someone has a direct connection to his brain and it's capable of broadcasting his thoughts to those at Dalton. Perhaps his skull is completely transparent and his feelings flash in multicoloured lights for all to see. It unnerves him how many people want to stare at him, approach him, question him. It makes him long for a drink to suppress the scratching he does to his arms when his skin crawls, makes him long for a joint when he'd much rather float away on a cloudy haze of technicolour joy.
He still has no clear idea of who he is or what he likes. He realises his rare dreams are usually filled with males rather than females, that he spends parts of his days imagining himself with a guy over a girl but… Is that enough to declare he's gay? Is that the smoking gun for his sexuality? He feels no closer to understanding it and he worries that maybe he's wrong and it's just a phase. He's terrified that maybe he'll end up on the outside of the social circles and get hurt like Blaine. All his internal conflict is enough to keep his mouth shut.
Spring Break rises up and passes by. Sebastian had a small piece of hope that his parents would call and invite him home but…his phone stays silent. He spends most of his week off wandering the gardens, staring at the clouds, and trying not to cry. He's not sure he could say he's homesick, not after this long, but their lack of contact feels like a flashing neon sign that they've given up, that they're distancing themselves from him. It cuts him down to the bone and leaves him gaping, wide open, for anyone to hurt with careless words.
"The Warblers are having an impromptu performance tomorrow," Hunter says casually, in the middle of helping him with his American History homework. "We rehearsed all Spring Break so this is sort of the welcome back to school. You want to come?"
His pen pauses above the paper, the words frozen to the page for a change. He blinks and removes his glasses so he can rub his eyes. "I told you I don't sing."
"It's not an audition, just to watch," Hunter explains, leaning forward to look at his work and then returning his gaze to the textbook in front of him. "It's not like you're obligated to participate in school things, but don't you ever feel terribly isolated?"
Sebastian glances towards his roommate, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He's not sure why his limited circle of anyone he'd consider a 'friend' is so important after he's been at Dalton for months already and kept to himself. Sometimes he does feel isolated, but the thought that maybe there are homophobes within Dalton's walls prepared to beat him up or there are people that would pity him for Lillian's ill health or his parents' distance keeps him quiet and separated from those around him. Perhaps he's still being terribly selfish by not taking an interest in the lives of others around him but he feels as though his life is in enough turmoil as it is. Listening to the problems of others would wear him down and wear him out.
"Just think about it," Hunter says with a shrug and points at a spot on his exercise book. "You got that date mixed up, by the way."
Breakfast the next morning has this odd vibration about it. A few times, he checks his fork and spoon to ensure they aren't rattling against the table and wonders if he's being completely irrational about what he senses around him.
He wonders if anyone notices him peering at his silverware and thinks he's a freak.
Yet his cutlery is remarkably still so he starts scanning around him, trying to reconcile the behaviour that just seems different somehow. There's an anticipation in the air so strong he can practically taste it. There's a buzz in the air so insistent he can't ignore it. He doesn't understand what's going on and it infuriates him because he feels like he's being left out of a very important joke.
He just hopes he's not the butt of it.
Concentrating in his first two classes of the day proves to be a joke, but this time it's not his fault. The twitching excitement in the breakfast hall follows him into the classrooms and infects his classmates in a way that he can see is making his teachers exasperated as they call for calm again and again and again and he starts to wonder why they don't just throw the papers they're trying to teach into the air and give up.
He wonders if the education of a freshman is really that important or if their jobs are at risk if they don't get through requisite content. From what Sebastian's seen, the content flies by because usually the Dalton boys are so well behaved. It almost amuses him seeing his teachers look so unhinged. They would never cope at Westerville High, and he hadn't even gone there often enough to gauge the true level of insanity in those classes.
The bell rings and he packs up and begins the slow march to his next class because everyone converges into the corridors at the same time. It's probably this part of Dalton he hates most. He gets pushed and knocked, not because anyone is being violent towards him, not because anyone wants to express their disgust about his slow realisations, but simply because everyone is trying to move at the same time. Isn't there a way they could stagger bell times?
And then he realises he isn't even going the right way to class because he's been swallowed up in the swell of boys in blazers all pushing in a certain direction. He tries to shove against it because the last thing he needs is to be late – he doesn't need James waving loss of privileges in his face because he doesn't go to his classes – when someone's hand clamps around his arm.
"Don't fight it, man."
He squints at the boy who is possibly a junior, carefree blue eyes and easy smile. "And why is that?" he asks, trying – failing – to keep the distaste from his words.
"Warblers performance!" the stranger says and though it explains where he's going, he still doesn't-
Oh.
The Warblers performance.
That Hunter had invited him to.
Was that the reason behind the ongoing disturbances throughout the day?
He stops resisting the push-pull of everyone around him until they round the foyer that connects the dorm wing and the academic school wing. Standing in something that is easily recognised as a well-practised formation are a group of boys on the stairs.
He easily spots Hunter, higher up the curve of the stairwell with an impassive face. Wes is around the middle, his face as still as stone. He's not sure he's ever seen him anything other than assessing or animated. He wonders how they manage to stay so calm, so focused, when boys are spilling in from all directions and spreading out to ensure they get a spot and they can see. A few have their phones out to take photos and videos.
He's not sure if there's a cue he misses but somehow a hush overcomes the audience. He imagines most of the student body has assembled and after the constant murmur of anticipation all day, he's surprised at how quickly silence blankets across them. All eyes are on the boys interspersed on the stairs. It's almost like no one in the audience dares to breathe, frozen in place with their eagerness.
It might be a cliché to think it, but Sebastian's pretty sure he'd hear a pin drop.
Somewhere, a hum starts. It's low but unmistakable when everything else is so still. It travels up the staircase, like the boys in blazers light a sound candle and pass it along. A single hum turns into fifteen, harmonising and blending, twisting into something he's not sure he's heard before. Public school choirs had never interested him much and any time he knew there was an assembly in the past few years, he'd tended to head outside for a smoke to help him get through the rest of the day.
The hum is extinguished and in the void left behind, he's pretty sure everyone is even more still, more silent, more on edge for what's to come.
Someone starts to "ah" and it gets picked up among the group, their mouths opened, none of them looking at each other and – despite how much he wants to tease Hunter for singing – he's impressed at the amount of rehearsing which has probably gone into this. Faintly, or maybe not so faintly, he hears a beat and he scans up the group until he sees a boy halfway between Wes and Hunter, hand over his lips and Adam's apple leaping.
A boy at the bottom of the steps, one he's seen Wes talk to at his dining table a lot, takes half a step to the right and begins singing the words.
"Another day has gone, I'm still all alone. How could this be, You're not here with me."
His voice carries above the other Warblers who vary between "ooh" and "ah" and sway back and forth on the spot. It's a song he recognises instantly because anyone with an interest in popular music of the last twenty years should be well-versed in Michael Jackson in his opinion. He appreciates the way they've reworked the original, lowering it to a range which is comfortable for all the boys through to young men, and the way they're all in perfect unison without a glance at one another.
"Every day I sit and ask myself, How did love slip away, Something whispers in my ear and says: That you are not alone."
The introductory verse ends and all the boys join in on the bridge, moving down the stairs in simple synchronisation and spanning out into a space that gets created for them by people moving back. It's harder for Sebastian to see them because he's not the tallest freshman or Dalton student and he's a freshman so he has no seniority or superiority to elbow people out of the way, but he strains on his tip-toes to see the group sway, move side to side, step around each other.
"Just the other night, I thought I heard you cry, Asking me to come, And hold you in my arms."
Mostly he just listens to the song, whispering the words of the second verse to himself because it resonates with him how applicable it is to Lillian. Someone else has taken the lead this time, someone he's not that interested in actually seeing, because he's too lost in his thoughts of how he's protected Lillian in the past. He thinks of the times he's held her when she's cries after a nightmare, listening to her detail the latest time her teddies attacked her or her schoolwork was too hard or, most painfully, when she'd died and been a ghost and watched everyone. He thinks of the times she sneaks into his bed simply because she's been scared to sleep alone or the times she's picked up that he's so tired and hurt, straining under the burdens of his parents' disinterest and his poor habits, and cuddles into him with promises that she still loves him until he falls asleep with her pressed into his chest.
"You are not alone, I am here with you, Though we're far apart, You're always in my heart."
When the Warblers get to the chorus the final time, he's humming along as the words sink beneath his blazer, under the thin cotton of his shirt, deep into his skin. It hurts to relate the words to her and yet somehow the way it's being sung is freeing, like it's a prayer that he can hold onto. He knows she's not there with him and he knows he can't be with her at the hospital whenever he wants to be now that he's been sequestered away into the walls of a boarding school, but he still carries her within his heart. He still knows that no matter where he is, he's Lillian's older brother and he'll never stop loving and protecting her.
By the time the song draws to a close, he ducks his head to wipe the stain of tears lingering on his cheeks that he'll refuse to admit were ever there and applauds along with everyone else around him. Some boys are cheering, others whooping and hollering, others with fingers between their lips and whistling loud and shrill. He wonders if this is why Hunter performs, if there's a certain buzz that lingers on your skin and makes you so giddy you want to do it all again – because that's how he feels. He wants to hear more. He wants to hold onto that moment he'd felt so connected to his sister even though she's miles away.
The bell rings and some of the crowd begins to disperse. Instead of allowing himself to be carried along on the current, he squeezes through other boys until he's in front of the Warblers who are congratulating each other with high-fives and hugs and fist-bumps and he suddenly feels completely out of place standing there and loitering. It's almost reminiscent of when he'd first approached Terry and asked if he could have a drink. He could still remember Terry's howling laughter.
"Seb!" Hunter moves towards him, his arms outstretched in a hug that Sebastian narrowly manages to avoid and Hunter seems to realise his mistake because he breaks into some sort of awkward-excited wave thing. "Wasn't that awesome?"
He tries to pretend that Hunter's move was totally normal by giving a sarcastic wave back. "I just thought I'd congratulate you," he says, his eyes shifting from Hunter's to over his shoulder where Wes is openly staring at them. He's tempted to give him the finger just to see what the reaction would be.
A grin spreads across Hunter's mouth. "Oh? So you even liked it?"
"I admit no such thing!" he protests, but he's pretty sure that the time he's spent with Hunter over the past months has made his enjoyment of the song transparent. "MJ was a good touch," he concedes.
"That was all David's doing. He's obsessed," Hunter says, indicating the boy that had begun the song and is now talking with Wes, their heads bowed together. He wonders if there's any conversation these guys have which doesn't appear conspiratorial.
He turns his attention back to Hunter, who has a slight frown on his face as he looks past Sebastian's shoulder. "Well, it's a good artist to be obses-"
A heavy hand settles on his shoulder and it's so unexpected that he flinches and twists out of the grip to stand beside Hunter. It takes him half a second to see James with his arm still outstretched.
"Sir, we're getting to cla-"
The principal waves away whatever is being said because his focus is fixed on Sebastian and there's something in those eyes that is too guarded, too cautious. His lips press together for a moment as a small frown appears between his eyebrows, as if he's not sure what to say. Or maybe it's how he needs to say it.
And without a word being said, he understands.
His stomach plummets straight through the marbled floor.
He grabs onto Hunter's arm because he's the closest thing available and he knows his roommate is looking at him with alarm. Why wouldn't he? Nothing has even been said but Sebastian just knows.
James inclines his head slightly, confirming everything which is screaming through Sebastian's head. "There's a cab waiting for you outside," he says, stepping towards Sebastian who automatically steps back as denial crashes through him. Any sort of contact will make this real. He doesn't want the principal trying to comfort him because his touch might just rip him apart. "She isn't gone, Sebastian, but you need to get there."
He doesn't understand because he just wants to cover his head with his hands and rewind time by ten minutes when he'd been thinking about her. God, was that some sort of sick omen? Was it karma's way of getting the last laugh? First, he resents his sister's birth because she steals the shine of being an only child from him and then she gets so sick that he gets forgotten about completely.
But none of that matters because he's still staring at James in disbelief, in fear. His mind is in absolute chaos and he's pretty sure his stomach wants to revolt on him. Are his hands shaking? He's not sure. He can't be bothered checking.
"Seb?" Hunter asks, a hand covering Sebastian's that he's too numb to really feel.
It's been more than three months since he was dropped at Dalton and left to fend for himself. He knows his parents will be there and he's wholly unprepared to see them. Especially not like this.
"Can he come too?" he whispers, croaks, because the words of the song are still echoing through his head and he doesn't want to go to the hospital alone. He needs someone to stand between himself and his parents and he needs someone to call Blaine for him because there's no way he can do it himself. As much as he's wanted to take Hunter's head off in the past, he needs him to stay because he's got no one else right now.
James turns his attention to Hunter, his eyes dropping to the way they're holding hands but he refrains from saying anything. "It's highly unorthodox," the principal says slowly and Sebastian wants to shout CAN WE STOP WASTING TIME? loud enough to pierce eardrums several states over.
"Sir, if he wants me to be there, I'll sacrifice my weekend privileges for a year," Hunter says, so fucking earnest and honest that Sebastian's eyes nearly bleed. His roommate has put him through hell on numerous occasions but he's so damn willing. Sure, they've been tentatively repairing things but that doesn't mean they're that close.
James sighs and nods. "Very well." He leans towards Sebastian and makes contact with his shoulder even though Sebastian doesn't want it. "Look after yourself," he says sternly, his eyes looking directly into parts of his soul he'd prefer no one saw, before the principal dismisses them.
He starts running through the corridors, following Hunter's call of directions when he nearly veers the wrong way to the front door. He knows the other boy isn't far behind him and is probably hopelessly confused but he's panicking and he doesn't want to do this, he can't do this. He doesn't know how he's meant to do this.
When he reaches the main entrance, he stumbles to a stop. His breath comes in heaving, shuddering pants and tears are already trailing down his face that he's not sure will stop for at least a few years.
"Sebastian?" Hunter approaches him cautiously, fingers pressing into his upper arms. "Come on. I'm right here with you."
"I c-can't," he whispers, an echo of the words he'd said at the park when he'd been too high to know what he was saying. He wants to put himself into a coma of his own from too much alcohol. His sides are splitting apart with the hurt and pain and fear spreading through him. He's waited for this for four years but nothing is as devastating as it actually happening.
"You can't what?" Hunter says, his voice sounding tinged with urgency as his hands move to cradle Sebastian's head in a manner which is far too intimate but he's too weak to fight it because his whole world is crashing down around him. "What's going on?"
"M-My s-sister," he chokes out, a sob strangling in his throat as he wipes at his eyes and tries desperately to look at Hunter to make him understand what's happening. "She… She's s-s-sick, Hunter."
And though Hunter continues to look completely baffled, some sort of comprehension dawns in his eyes as he wraps his arms around Sebastian's body and holds him tightly. He sinks into the touch, uncomfortably familiar and probably the only thing that will stop him falling to the floor.
"I'll stay with you as long as you need me to be there," Hunter promises, hushed against his ear as a hand smooths up and down Sebastian's back. "You want me to call Blaine?"
He tucks his face against Hunter's shoulder and lets the fabric of the other boy's blazer soak up a few of his tears. He can feel how badly he's shaking because Hunter is so steady. The offer to call Blaine is…is everything he needs right now. Hunter is useful but Blaine is…Blaine is just everything. "P-Please," he breathes and Hunter squeezes him briefly before he lets go.
"Come on," Hunter says, a picture of composure and calm as he presses his hand to Sebastian's shoulder blades and guides him from the school to the waiting taxi.
They climb into the back and the cabbie puts it into drive. He suspects the driver already knows where to go. He's not sure he could have said he needs to go to the hospital. He cries into his hands for the duration of the trip, an inconsolable wreck as Hunter alternates between trying to hush him and rub his back.
"You got your phone on you?" Hunter asks when they're a couple of blocks away from the hospital.
He nods, his fingers fumbling through the front pocket of his bag to retrieve it. "He… He's h-here," he confesses, struggling with the touch screen when his fingers are so wet.
Hunter's hands close around his own, freeing the phone from his grasp. "He is?" his roommate says, as light and conversational as possible. It's a distraction but it makes him hurt. "Should I get him to meet us…wherever it is we're going?"
Sebastian shudders in a deep breath at the thought. He's not sure how mobile Blaine is and he's not sure how willing he is to have the other boy there as a witness to his internal destruction. Yet he's also not sure how Hunter could call Blaine, explain the fragments of the situation that he understands, and Blaine stays away.
He shrugs helplessly because he's not even sure where they're going. Is Lillian… Is she… Will she still be in the PICU? James said she wasn't gone but what did that even mean?
"Tell h-him…" He hiccups and struggles to suck in a few breaths of air until he can speak past the rampaging emotions pouring through him. Hunter's hand holds onto his shoulder firmly. "Tell h-him you'll t-text when I… I know w-where she i-is b-because I know h-he'll want t-to c-come."
"Will I?" Hunter says with an arched eyebrow and a slight tilt to his lips, but his fingers are already moving over the screen and Sebastian idly wonders if he should put a lock on the thing to avoid it getting hacked. He's never been close enough to anyone to be worried about his phone being looked at and his parents have never cared to look at it, but there are probably secrets on there he doesn't want Hunter to find.
"Blaine? Hi- Yeah, Hunter-" There's a pause in which he can hear the faintness of Blaine's intonations speaking through the phone but his words are indiscernible. "He's- No, okay, he's not but it's not- No- Something about his sister?"
The barely contained hysteria pops within him again because it's happening, it's real, and he covers his mouth to stifle the sob.
"He said I'll text you when we- Yeah, hold on a sec." Clarington squeezes his shoulder, demanding his attention for a moment. "He wants to talk to you. You up to it?"
No, he wants to scream but he takes the phone anyway and holds it to his ear. It feels like it's clattering against his cheek because he's trembling so badly.
"…B?"
"Seb, I'm so sorry." Blaine's words wash over him quickly, like he's trying to get them out as quickly as possible because he doesn't have very long. Like Lillian. How long does she have? "The second you know where you're going, text me and I'll get there, come hell or high water."
"I- B-Blaine, w-what i-i-if-"
"Stop, Seb," Blaine interrupts, but there's no way he could have finished the sentence anyway. "Stay with Hunter until I can get there, alright? We'll work it out. We'll take care of you."
And something in that makes it very clear to him that Blaine knows his parents probably won't be any use in supporting him. They'll probably be too lost in their own grief to notice his own. Yet Blaine realises that Sebastian had brought Hunter too and is including his roommate as a source of comfort. He has to admit that as much as he hated Hunter when he'd first arrived at Dalton, he's glad he'll have him as a buffer before Blaine manages to get to him. He'll need Hunter to guide him around because he'll be blinded by the tears and the panic.
"Tha-a-anks," he says, whimpering when another wave of fear and hurt swallow him whole and Hunter tries to hush him with a hand pressed to his upper arm.
"Just keep breathing, Seb," Blaine says gently but breathing seems to be the most impossible thing in the world. "We'll get through this. I'll see you soon, okay? Can you pass the phone back to Hunter for me?"
He nods even though Blaine can't see it and returns the phone to Hunter's hands.
"Hi aga- Yeah?"
There's a long silence during which Sebastian can hear the buzz of Blaine speaking but though he strains to hear, he can't make out anything. He almost wishes he'd turned the volume up just so he knew what was being said. He doesn't like being left out of things. Especially when there are enough secrets, enough unknowns, swimming through his head right now and leaving him floundering around with no idea where he's going.
Maybe Hunter reads his mind because his hand brushes against Sebastian's knee and squeezes it. He wants Blaine's hand but he'll settle for looping his fingers through Hunter's until the other boy, the one he really wants and needs, can get to him. He can feel Hunter stiffen against the gesture but he says nothing and he doesn't draw away and Sebastian lets himself be distracted by the touch and uses it to tie himself down before he whirls out of orbit.
"Alright, I got it. Thanks." Another pause. "Yeah, we'll see you soon."
Hunter withdraws the phone from his ear and holds it out to Sebastian. The screen is dark, the call ended, and he stares at it blankly for a moment.
He realises, somewhere between numbly and overwhelming levels of pain, that they still didn't call him.
Having Hunter with him suddenly became far more necessary than he'd realised standing in front of James.
He takes the phone back and quickly looks at his missed calls and texts, but he has none from the people he would have expected to hear from in a situation like this. He wonders who they'd called – was it the school? was it James directly? – but it hurts too much to think about because it wasn't him and that's all that mattered. He'd counted on them to contact him when things went to hell and they hadn't and he would never forgive them for that, regardless of Lillian's outcome.
The cab pulls up outside the hospital and the driver makes no move to ask them for money. He's been oddly silent throughout the entire trip actually, but Sebastian's too distressed and distracted to comment on it. Hunter doesn't make a move beside him, perhaps thinking that he's giving time for Sebastian to steel himself when really he's veering away from denial and straight down the path of anger that will put his fist through his father's face and paint a slap to his mother's cheek as soon as he sees them.
"Seb?"
Sebastian looks down at their hands and notices how tightly Hunter's holding it because he's shaking so badly. "Don't… D-Don't let go of m-me," he says because until Blaine gets there, he'll be a loose cannon and he doesn't trust himself in the slightest. He knows Hunter is bigger and stronger than him. Their studying sessions, when Hunter spends more time studying his expressions than their homework, should mean his roommate is capable of shielding him from the fight he's itching to have.
"No way," Hunter promises, a hesitant smile on his lips.
He releases an unsteady sigh, gathers up his bag, and shifts out of the car with Hunter never lessening the grip of his hand. The hospital looms above him and he feels cold and sick just looking at it, but he doesn't know how bad it is and maybe his sister doesn't have very long and he's still wasting time because he's too chickenshit to walk inside.
Hunter takes the initiative and tugs him through the doors. They approach the admin desk and he can tell from the way Hunter straightens his back that he's going to be the no-nonsense, demanding-information type which Sebastian needs when he's not sure he'll be able to find his voice until after he's hit both his parents in the head with the corner of a brick.
"Excuse me, can you-"
"Sebastian?" He glances up at the sound of his name. Marie sits behind the counter. She's this old secretary on the front desk that used to give him lollipops when he was a little boy and his mother would take him to work. He offers her a pained smile and she gives him a sympathetic one in response. He can tell she knows just from the way she looks at him. "We've been expecting you. She's in the OR. Your parents are on level two in the waiting room."
He stares, and stares, and stares, and stares. Hunter waves a hand in front of his face and it takes him a while before he blinks and focuses on it. Marie has moved around the counter and gently grasped his elbow. Despite being a secretary at the front desk, he's pretty sure she has medical training. He probably looks like he's on the verge of collapse. He definitely feels it.
"Do you need something, Sebastian? Some coffee?" she asks, drawing his attention towards her with an index finger to the side of his face. Hunter's hand stays trapped within his own. He wonders if he'll ever be able to let go of it.
"I-" His voice creaks out of him and she squeezes his elbow encouragingly. "She's not-?"
"I don't have the latest updates," Marie says, her eyes darting over his shoulder and waving someone out of the way. "Your parents will be able to tell you more. Your friend-?"
"Hunter, ma'am," his roommate says politely.
"Hunter can take you to level two. You know where to go from there, don't you?"
And she's so nice that it makes him want to vibrate apart until he's crying again. He doesn't understand what's going on at all but Marie gives Hunter directions to the lift when he seems too incapacitated to take any of it in. While they wait for the elevator, he takes out his phone and opens up a new text to Blaine for Hunter to type in the details. His hands are far too wobbly to be accurate. His spelling can be bad at the best of times when he can't properly focus on the letters but he's not even sure autocorrect would understand his garbled attempts when his hands are shaking this badly.
The elevator doors open and before he's even processed what's happening, a pair of arms have embraced him. He looks down and notices the green scrubs, the light brown hair, and it's not until she steps back that he realises it is Therese.
He can feel Hunter's gaze on him, demanding answers he has no intention to give. Maybe Therese looks like a mother with the way she's just held him. Maybe Hunter thinks Sebastian has the most amazing parents ever.
"Do you want me to take you up?" Therese asks, her fingers reaching up to wipe at his tears with a folded hanky and he frowns and turns his head away from the motherly gesture.
"I- I c-can do i-i-it." He wishes it sounded more convincing but he's having a hard enough time convincing himself right now. Convincing other people was going to have to wait.
"I meant-" She visibly suppresses a sigh and glances at Hunter before looking back at Sebastian. "I meant because of them."
Oh.
Hunter squeezes his hand, maybe to remind him he's there, and it draws his attention to the other boy. There aren't any forthcoming questions and Sebastian has no explanations. He notices that there's barely a hint on Hunter's face about what he's thinking. Perhaps the military training has kicked in because of all the emotions Sebastian is feeling and Hunter can't abide tears so he's transformed into an unfeeling robot.
He realises that even though he needs Hunter there as a physical presence, to block his parents or to keep him safe from himself, Sebastian has never explained any information to him. Sebastian has always been deliberately obtuse about his parents, his sister, his family, and he doesn't have the time, patience or ability to fill in those details right now. Sure, Hunter knew of Blaine and that he had a profound ability to comfort Sebastian when he'd been in mental meltdown, but he didn't know anything about Blaine. Hunter's lack of knowledge would make it easy to misunderstand everything going on and therefore easier for his parents to send away the stranger and then what did Sebastian have?
Therese knew all that and more. She could be the person to use words that would get through to his parents without offending them. She could be gentle with him when he was upset. She could explain all the complicated medical stuff going on that he didn't understand. She could be the verbal and emotional intermediary between him and his parents given all the problems they'd had recently. He was reminded of how many questions he still had for her. What did she know? How did she know it? Was everyone in the hospital aware of it?
Even in his panic and distress, he manages a fragment of logic that sees him looking at Therese and giving her a small nod that's weighted with everything his mind has been turning over since James had found him at Dalton. She touches his shoulder, sweeps her fingers along the ruffled strands of his hair, and pats his cheek.
"We'll take care of you," Therese says, an echo of Blaine's words, and he looks at her, wondering who she means. Does she just think he only has her and Hunter – because he has Blaine too – or is she referring to everyone on staff that knows about the rift between him and his parents?
She guides him and Hunter into the nearest elevator that's just opened its metal doors. "So who are you?" she asks after she's pressed the 2 button, openly and unashamedly staring at Hunter.
Sebastian can sense his roommate straightening his spine under her scrutinising look. The military training is strong with this one, he thinks.
"Hunter Clarington, ma'am. Sebastian and I share the same dorm." There's something in Hunter's tone, something strictly no-nonsense, that Sebastian hasn't heard before. Hunter's been harsh and he's been gentle, he's been the cause of Sebastian's distress and the only one he's let near him at Dalton to comfort him.
But Sebastian has never seen him so formal, so disciplined.
"Roommates?" Therese clarifies.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Not…?"
Sebastian has a feeling he knows what Therese is getting at. He's not sure he wants to offer her a response on that matter. It's neither the time nor the place, and while he has no feelings for Hunter like that, they have shared a moment he can't take back and led to his internal crisis that he'd tried to deny for years. He supposes he can't blame Therese for wondering though. Hunter has stayed true to his word. He hasn't let go of Sebastian's hand.
"No, ma'am. Sebastian merely needs all the support he can get right now."
Therese clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth as the doors open and she closes her hand around Sebastian's free forearm to lead him. "Couldn't agree more," she says, her voice low enough that she could be talking to herself, as they step into the corridor.
The smell that is just so quintessentially hospital is stronger here and he wrinkles his nose. Antiseptic and bleach and sickness all blend to make a unique scent that he's uncomfortably familiar with. He struggles to move from the spot half a step from the elevator, knowing the operating rooms and the recovery bay are to the left and on the right is a spacious room with a coffee maker and a range of snacks at one end. There are some doors that line the room which open to pull-out beds for the people whose loved ones have really long operations and don't want to leave the area. He's been there too many times before.
"Hey, deep breath," Hunter says when he must see the expression on Sebastian's face and understands it to be the one he wears when his chest is constricting inwards and he can't breathe. He squeezes Sebastian's hand hard enough to break bones and Sebastian barely feels it.
Therese moves her hand from his arm to run down his back, settling it on the dip of his spine. It's a firm gesture of support and strength. Somewhere, Blaine is negotiating his way to this floor. He'll have three people behind him and his parents will only have each other.
Serves them right, a selfish voice sneers.
He allows Therese to lightly propel him forwards, pushing him towards the closed waiting room doors. Hunter's grip stays tight around his hand as Therese opens them and he steps into the room, his eyes scanning around the space to find the huddled pair in a corner towards the back.
Despite how angry he was that they hadn't called him, he feels like he transforms into the little boy who had skinned his knees on his first day of kindergarten and cried until the school nurse had called his mother because she had "magic" to make his sickness go away. He's pierced by hurt when he realises he's missed his parents. He's missed being important to them. Seeing them from across the room makes him want to run at them, fold into their arms, grieve with them. He's always had this image in his head of Lillian going into surgery and they say prayers together while holding hands.
The mirage he's held for years instead shatters before his eyes. Therese continues to touch his back and Hunter stays close to his side as they walk through the room decorated with paintings that are generic flowers and landscapes and abstract art and that's filled with plush couches and arm chairs to make the wait as comfortable as possible. Every step closer to his parents becomes harder and harder to make until his mother looks up and sees him, sees them, and her mouth parts just a little in surprise. He doesn't want to think it's because she hadn't expected to see him there because they hadn't called him. He can see that her eyes are unmistakably red but he doubts he looks any different.
"Seb!" she breathes, jumping to her feet and rushing towards him with outstretched arms.
He panics at the gesture, taking an automatic and unconscious step back and behind Hunter. His roommate's neck stiffens, his shoulders shifting into something that looks defensive. His mother stops with an expression on her face that is probably as distraught as his had been when Hunter had been holding him in the foyer of Dalton. Therese's hand subtly increases the pressure against his back as she takes a step towards him to offer her own protection and security. He'll owe her something later to show his gratitude. A new ball of yarn, perhaps.
"I'm not sure that's the best thing right now, Amelia," Therese says and her words are this peculiar mix of gentle and firm that Sebastian would never be able to manage but that he's heard in Blaine's voice before. They're patient with explanation yet underlined with a determination that leaves little room for anyone to argue.
"But-" Amelia's lower lip wobbles, her eyes filling with tears again. Sebastian's already so sick of her that he looks at his father, who hasn't looked up from the floor. He's not sure if William Smythe has simply shut down and is ignorant of what's going on around him or he can't stand to look at Sebastian. Maybe his father's the one that had been calling the shots about not contacting him. He'd always assumed it was his mother because of the way he'd spoken to her and the bits he'd picked up from Therese, but maybe it was his father. He's not sure how he feels about it.
"How about you tell Sebastian why we're here, Amelia?" Therese prompts, her fingers tiptoeing up Sebastian's spine to rub between his shoulder blades. He's overwhelmed by how easily she manages to navigate the situation. He would never have been equipped for handling this. Neither would Hunter nor Blaine. They would have been swamped by his mother's distress and he would have been mixed up with guilt and anger and confusion because he'd feel like he needed to offer her comfort rather than demand she care about him.
Thank God James had let Hunter come with him. Running into Therese was an added bonus.
Amelia inhales deeply, wiping tears from her eyes and holding her hands together just beneath her chin. She looks like a small, wobbly, broken child.
"She- A heart- A heart came through from Michigan, Seb."
~TBC~
Author's Note 1: The Warbler's were singing 'You Are Not Alone' by Michael Jackson. There is a version of this performed by Dreamz in the Last Choir Standing TV show, which is a choir version used for inspiration in this chapter. A link is provided in the AO3 version of this story, or on my Tumblr, or you can search for it via Google.
Author's Note 2: While this story is far from over, it is being placed on hiatus for approximately a month. From Dec 28-Jan 23, I will be travelling to five different states of the USA. I will have my iPad, allowing me to continue writing, but I will probably struggle to have a reliable internet connection. I've also learned this year that it is difficult to upload stories/chapters from the iPad. As such, I won't be updating until I return. I would like to keep the Tuesday updates going, so I am intending to resume regular posting transmission on Jan 27, 2015. If you would like to keep up with what I'm doing, then I will attempt to post some updates to my blog - you can find a link on my profile.
At this point, I would like to thank everyone who has given this story a go and whether you are someone who is hiding in the shadows and reading, or has favourited it, or followed it, or has reviewed, I would like to thank all of you. If you have reviewed anonymously/as a guest, then I apologise for not replying to you as I can only reply to logged in reviews. All I can simply say is thank you to everyone who is reading - I wouldn't continue posting if there was no audience for such a story. To those who haven't left a review or comment, don't be shy. I'm an incredibly chatty person and always willing to connect with more readers :)
I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas or holiday period and a Happy New Year. Enjoy the month of January and I'll see you here when I return!