Title: Creeping On A Stranger
Word Count: 9,560
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: Nothing more than usual.
Sebastian finds it difficult to sleep on Sunday night because his feelings after Lillian's call are still so erratic and uncontrolled. On the one hand, it had been amazing to hear her voice just before his exams because it reassured him that she was doing okay and reminded him that he had a reason to do well. On the other hand, it's a terrible distraction because all he can do is just keep replaying her words and wishing he was there with her.
Each exam on Monday sees him in a small conference room in the library with Tim. Where he can, he reads the questions aloud and then speaks the answers for Tim. Tim writes down what he says in a quick but neat scrawl and occasionally Sebastian glances at the paper to ensure it's accurate. He doesn't want to be marked on work that isn't his – even if Tim could get him a few extra marks. He knows he'd prefer to feel shitty over a C than feel proud over a B he hadn't actually earned.
He spends the night studying with Hunter and a new routine develops over the ensuing days as he completes his exams. Surprisingly, he finds he's far less stressed having Tim as a reader and writer because whenever he stumbles over the words, he has the opportunity to discuss it with someone until it makes sense in his head. Tim doesn't offer too much clarification and he never suggests better ways of phrasing the response, but Sebastian knows he feels less anxiety with Tim there. Trying to understand the complicated words and painstakingly transcribing his thoughts into writing feels impossible.
Several times, he feels ashamed to confess that he has no idea what he's read and even when Tim reads it for him, it's nothing he's familiar with. He immediately thinks it must be something from the first semester – something James said wouldn't be in his exams – but maybe it's just something he hasn't had time to revise with Hunter and it was covered during his absences this semester, or after he'd walked out of one of his many classes.
Overall though, regardless of what his actual result might be, he's satisfied he gave his exams the best shot possible and he's grateful for Tim's assistance and Hunter's help studying.
At lunch on Friday, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He frowns at "BLAINE" plastered across the front and immediately answers because it's unusual for Blaine to call during school hours. He'd already been planning to call Blaine that evening anyway.
"Hey, B," he says, turning away from the conversation Hunter and Wes have been in the middle of which is something about end-of-year Warbler numbers. He wasn't particularly interested in it nor was he interested in the pasta lunch he'd selected, making for a very boring lunchtime.
"I'm getting discharged!" Blaine exclaims, and the transformation from the fearful, unsure Blaine of a couple of weeks ago to the excited boy on the phone takes him by surprise.
He smiles, ducking his head to shield the phone from all the noise in the food hall. It's already a strain to hear Blaine on the phone sometimes. "When's it all going down?"
"Sunday!"
"Congrats, B," he says, immensely proud when he recalls how small and fragile and broken Blaine had looked in the hospital bed months ago. To think that that boy had become his closest friend, had survived and was now getting released from hospital… He wishes he had the words to express how happy he is for Blaine. "You mustn't be so gimpy now."
Blaine scoffs and he chuckles. He's pretty sure that part of his teasing will never fade. "I'm not gimpy. I'd like to see what you'd look like after what I went through."
"I wouldn't be strong enough to survive it," he says, knowing he's barely been strong enough to get through Lillian being sick, and Blaine hums in acknowledgement. Part of him had wanted Blaine to disagree and say that of course he'd survive it too. He's not sure how to feel by Blaine's lack of confidence in his coping abilities, although it's not like he can blame Blaine for that.
As the phone call wraps up, he wonders if it would be possible to get out of school tomorrow to see Blaine. He's not sure he'd be able to visit Blaine at his house and if he gets out for a day, he wouldn't be able to visit Lillian and Blaine. The fact he may not see Blaine for weeks, until summer break when neither yet know where Sebastian's going to say, makes his only opportunity both terrifying and tempting. He's afraid he's going to develop Blaine withdrawals.
"Was that Blaine?" Hunter asks and Sebastian tosses a glare at his roommate. Why does Hunter care so much?
"Who's Blaine?" Wes says, his eyes wide with interest.
"None of your business," Sebastian snaps, flinging a piece of carrot at Hunter and earning him a look of outrage.
Once classes are over for the week, Sebastian pushes his way through the crowded corridors towards James' office. It takes him longer than he'd anticipated and when he arrives, the secretary who sits at the outside desk is gone. His heart sinks, imagining that James has already gone. If he can't see Blaine, he'll have to accept it but…he approaches the closed door to the principal's office anyway. His heart jumps when he hears a voice inside and hesitantly knocks his knuckles against the wood.
He waits a few seconds before knocking louder. He's almost certain he can hear James' intonations inside and guesses the principal is on the phone. The minutes he waits outside are painfully long and he's almost decided to give up when the door swings inwards.
"Sebastian!" James opens the door wider and extends an arm to welcome him in. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Sebastian bites his lower lip and briefly glances at the floor before he enters. He's not sure he'll ever feel comfortable entering a principal's office, even if it's of his own volition, even if he's not in trouble. A principal just has so much power.
"I… I was wondering if I could get a leave pass for tomorrow," he says, pressing his fingers into the back of one of the plush chairs in front of James' desk.
"Oh?" James' eyebrows rise as he approaches his desk and closes a thick book. "Any particular reason?"
Sebastian knows he could be honest. It would be easy to say he's visiting a friend in hospital before they get discharged but…is he still likely to get the release from school if he does? Maybe Lillian's health is his only leverage. It's not like he doesn't plan to visit her tomorrow too.
"My sister called me on Sunday," he says, scratching behind his ear nervously and scraping some of the hair on his head into a neater arrangement. "I've been thinking about visiting her all week but I got distracted by my exams."
James beams at him and pulls a piece of paper free from a drawer. Sebastian already knows the leave pass is guaranteed and some of the tension unspools in his chest. "So you did decide to study for your exams?"
Sebastian shrugs and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Can't James just sign the form so he can obtain the piece of paper and then escape? Why does he have to endure an interrogation?
"How is your sister recovering?" James continues when he realises Sebastian has no intention of responding to the previous question.
"I don't know. That's why I want to see her." He winces half a second after he says it, thinking his tone sounded rude and the abruptness of his sentences was unnecessary.
The principal glances up at him with a quirked eyebrow that betrays his disapproval of how Sebastian had spoken. "But you spoke to her?"
Sebastian decides it's easier just to nod this time and James appears satisfied. He lowers his gaze back to the paper, inking elaborate flourishes of letters and words in the appropriate boxes.
"Then am I safe to assume she's doing well?" James says, signing his name at the bottom and folding the paper in half.
"Well enough, I think. I hope so," Sebastian murmurs, taking the piece of paper the principal extends to him and holding it to his chest. He knows that Lillian might be talking now but her body could still be actively working to reject the heart she'd been given. And if her body rejected the organ, then…
Well, he doesn't want to think about it.
"Pass on my best wishes to her for a speedy recovery," James says, settling into his seat and propping his head in his hand as he looks at Sebastian. "How did you find your exams?"
Sebastian's not sure he hides the surprise on his face at James' apparent care for his sister's health. Perhaps the little olive branch extended to him explains why he dares to extend a little olive branch in return. "I appreciated having Tim assist me. Removing the distraction of other students which can be incredibly stressful when you don't understand something but have to intensely focus… I think that helped too."
James nods, his lips twitching into a small smile. "And the content?"
"There were questions I had no idea about but I… I did what I could, I guess," he says, his voice trailing towards a mumble and his eyes falling towards the floor.
He notices James' wide smile from the edge of his vision but Sebastian doesn't return it. "That's all anyone could ask of you after the year you have had, Sebastian. Do you hear me?"
Sebastian recognises James' reinforcement of the idea that he's tried, he's done enough, but Sebastian's not sure he'll be convinced of that until he gets his marks. He has a feeling that when he gets those, he'll be disappointed and unhappy he didn't do better. It's a vicious cycle.
For now, at least, he has to concede that he gave his exams a try. He knows it's been a while since that happened.
"Enjoy seeing your sister tomorrow," James says, unearthing his glasses from beneath a pile of papers which look set to cascade over the floor at a moment's notice.
"Thank you, Sir," he says, feeling a brief stab of guilt at the lie, at his prior rudeness, before he turns to leave. He's relieved to have the opportunity to leave but then a thought flashes through his mind when he gets to the door and pauses. "Sir?"
James looks over his glasses with raised eyebrows. "Yes?"
He struggles to meet James' eyes as he tries to phrase the words in his head as delicately as possible without giving away the reality of the situation or betraying his real intention for travelling to the hospital tomorrow. He's not even sure whether his question has an answer but he knows he has to ask it.
"If a student had…missed most of school this year," he begins, licking his lips as his eyebrows crease together, "which was their final year of middle school because…because something pretty bad had happening to them, would…would they be eligible to apply here?"
Wilson James stares at Sebastian for a long moment before he removes his glasses. His gaze narrows, his stare critical and examining of Sebastian's appearance but it feels like more than that. It feels like the principal is trying to see past the hypotheticals and discern the truth. Sebastian can already feel his stomach twisting and twitching. Did he say too much? Would it have been better to say nothing at all? Why did he say anything in the first place?
"We assess all circumstances individually," James says slowly, his fingers reaching for a tissue and starting to polish the lenses of his glasses. "After all, you would be aware of how much school you missed these past years but we still accepted you into our community."
Sebastian attempts to hide the way he presses his lips together. He can't compare his situation to Blaine's. The destruction to Sebastian's schooling abilities, his attendance and his knowledge, was entirely his fault. His parents would probably argue that everything he's ever screwed up was solely on him. Blaine's different, though. Blaine was a victim of someone else's cruelty, even though he's shown tremendous strength and courage in the months since Sebastian had started talking to him.
"We do not guarantee admission but we also do not guarantee rejection," James says and Sebastian is smart enough to ascertain that James isn't giving anything away. James can't ensure Blaine can come – even if his parents have the tuition fees – but maybe there's a chance, even if it seems remote. Doesn't he owe it to Blaine, to Blaine's safety in high school, to at least try? Maybe that's why he had asked.
"Thank you, Sir," he says, polite but neutral as he departs the office and begins the walk to his room. His mind turns over the possibilities of Blaine being at Dalton – would Blaine get a single room? was it possible for Blaine and Sebastian to share? – and his very real concerns that if Blaine ended up at Westerville High, he might get harmed all over again…or worse.
Sebastian can't – won't – allow that to happen.
It's strange visiting the hospital now that he knows there's a network of spies operating around him. Although he's sure that his mother has some true friends, he knows he feels far less paranoid about the various staff who watch him, who smile and wave, as he crosses the reception area to the lift. It feels like he's seeing the hospital in an entirely new light, one where he's no longer the tarnished son of a respected colleague but instead someone who, loathe as he is to think it, might actually be pitied because of the knowledge that said colleague is a completely ineffectual parent for their eldest son.
He's not sure how comforted he is by the opposing ideas.
He asks at reception whether his sister is still in the CICU or has returned to the PICU and he's glad she's returned to the PICU because, once he gets there, he receives a tired smile from Sinead who points him towards Lillian's room. The PICU is familiar and, though a ward for acutely ill patients, far less terrifying to him than the CICU. The CICU is filled with too many memories of surgeries gone wrong. At least the PICU has pretty pictures of flowers and stickers of Disney characters along the walls which were painted a pale, calming green rather than a too-cheerful pale yellow.
He lets himself into her room as quietly as possible because it's barely nine and he's not sure what her sleep patterns are like these days. It only takes him seconds to realise that he needn't have bothered trying to creep inside: the TV is on, the volume is low, and he recognises the Saturday cartoons instantly.
"Sebby!"
Lillian nearly flings herself from the bed in her excitement to hug him. The only reason she stays in the bed is because he moves to embrace her so quickly. He's aware of all the tubes and wires and leads attached to her, the machines which surround her. He's not sure whether she has any stability or the strength in her legs to stand.
But none of it seems to matter.
"I've got you," he murmurs, being careful with hugging her even as she fists tiny fingers into his t-shirt. She's so precious and fragile, so delicate and frail that he worries he'll squeeze her too tightly and her bones will shatter. He noses at her hair, the curve of her ear, and presses kisses to the soft skin of her cheeks when he reaches them. She doesn't smell like vanilla soap and strawberry shampoo, but she's alive, she's gripping him with more strength than she's had in years, and it's enough to make him want to cry.
"I love you so much," Lillian whispers, sniffling as she clings to him, nuzzling her face into his neck like he'd imagined a week ago.
"And I love you," Sebastian replies, tucking her into his arms as thoroughly as he can. For all the differences in her scent, despite knowing she's not completely healthy, she's his little sister and she's awake and she survived transplant surgery and he's pretty sure he's never loved her more than right now, right at this moment, when he savours the closeness between them.
Eventually they untangle just enough that Sebastian is able to lay on the hospital bed with Lillian pressed into his side, her face resting on his shoulder. His initial plan to watch cartoons together is forgotten when Lillian apparently prefers to spend more time watching him.
"Whaaaaaaaat?" he grumbles, prodding her side and eliciting a squirm and a giggle.
"Noooooothing," Lillian replies, her eyes widening in an expression of innocence that is both adorable and completely fake.
He scowls and settles his hand on her waist in a manner which is meant to be both comforting and threatening. "You tell me what's going on and I won't tickle you half to death."
Lillian pouts but when his fingers move against her waist in a display of what's to come, her defiance crumples and he tries not to grin too much in victory.
"I've just missed you so much," Lillian says, brushing her fingers over his chest. "This was an awesome surprise and I'm so glad you came."
"Of course I came," Sebastian says with an eye roll and a brief squeeze of her side. "You're my little sister and I've missed you."
"Yeah, yeah," Lillian huffs, nuzzling her nose into his neck. It tickles and he squirms, but he can feel the warm puffs of her exhalations against his skin and it's completely reassuring that her body still contains enough liveliness that she can breathe on her own now. Her quiet voice breaks into his calm reverie. "How are you, Sebby?"
He tilts his head towards hers, brushing a kiss to the top of her hair. He hoped Lillian would grow out of her perceptiveness one day, otherwise he was going to be screwed by her awareness of his inner turmoil. "I'm meant to ask you that."
"I'm sure you know how I am," Lillian laughs breathily, more tendrils of air licking Sebastian's skin, "but I have no idea how you are."
He cradles her against him, as if she might tear herself away when she hears all the horrors he'd held close to his chest for years. The anxiety builds in his chest. He tries to work out the easiest, gentlest way to explain what he does when he's not with her. She's been so sick the past two years that he's worked hard to conceal everything but he can't keep hiding it anymore. He's not sure he wants to.
"My roommate found out I'd been doing something…bad and now he's trying to help but it's…" His fingers skim up her spine as he sorts through his words. "I guess I don't really want his help."
Lillian's fingers span wider against his chest. She wriggles closer, any space between them vanishing as she clings to him. "Why not?"
He frowns and purses his lips at the question. He's not sure how many other eleven-year-olds would ask such a thing. It's certainly not a question he'd expected her to ask and he's forced into silence to consider it. His pride might be a factor because he doesn't really fancy Hunter seeing him at such a low point. His distrust is another, because he can trust Lillian with everything and Blaine with almost everything but Hunter is someone he still seems to be wary of in case the power he gains is too much.
"Because he… I don't really have a problem and he's blowing it out of proportion," he mumbles, lies, as he stares at the ceiling. He knows he could say many things about why he doesn't want to tell Hunter but to pretend it's not a problem is born of his protectiveness of Lillian. He doesn't want to burden her with the stress of his carelessness and stupidity. "I'm not as stupid as he thinks. I can take care of myself."
Lillian hums softly in acknowledgement, her fingers drifting in aimless patterns against the side of his chest she's not laying on. She spends several minutes thinking and he spends several minutes praying she's not going to try running away from him. "What you're doing, this bad thing?" she begins, the hesitation clear in her tone. "Is it dangerous?"
He bites his lip because he doesn't want to lie. Not to such a direct question. He wants to say it's not, that it's under control, but he remembers the cold reality of his fury after finding out Hunter had poured out his two bottles. He's not sure when it had reached that point but…it's a problem. Is it dangerous? Maybe. He knows the dangers of mixing weed and alcohol but it's not like he does either to excess when he's on his own. One of the guys would call an ambulance if he keeled over, right?
The silence that stretches on while he debates what to say lasts too long. Lillian peels herself away from his side and looks at him with the kind of studiousness he usually associates with Hunter.
"Seb?" she prompts, her pale eyebrows drawing together above wide green eyes, her mouth parted in fear. "What have you been doing to yourself?"
He tries to look away from her but they're cut from the same cloth – the stubbornness that is infused in every part of Sebastian's body is coated along Lillian's DNA. She might have a foreign heart pumping blood through her veins, but she's still his sister. They've always looked out for each other and he's defended Lillian for the past four years to anyone who tries to get under his skin. He shouldn't be so surprised that her small hand cradles his cheek, insistently dragging his eyes back to hers.
Her panicked expression breaks his heart. He's never wanted Lillian to worry about him.
"I haven't… I wasn't able to cope with you being so sick," he admits in a whisper, cupping her elbow to hold her steady when he feels the wobble of her body. It's clear she still has a lot of strength to gain back, that her muscles remain weak despite the new heart. It's difficult to maintain eye contact with her when she looks so scared, more scared than after her worst nightmares. "I thought… I thought that numbing myself to the pain was just… It…helped me get through the weeks."
"I don't…understand," Lillian says slowly, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Her thumb smooths over his cheekbone rhythmically, her eyes staring into his. She's not running away. She's not leaving him.
Not yet, a small voice taunts.
"I… I d-drink," he blurts out, his voice betraying him by wobbling with the uncertainty he feels at confessing any of this to anyone – including his sister. Perhaps especially his sister. He loves her to death and he wants to remain the strong, capable big brother in her eyes. Admitting this is like admitting to being a massive failure. "I drink too much alcohol and I- Sometimes I take drugs and get high and I just- I didn't want to hurt anymore, Lils. I didn't want to feel so scared that you might not-"
He can't finish the sentence but his sister understands. She presses her face into his chest and he can feel her shoulders trembling as she clings to him. He fully expects she's trying to hide that she's crying but it's nothing that he isn't working to stop himself from doing.
"Is that why mommy and daddy sent you away?" she sniffles into his collarbone.
"I-" He swallows at the lump that forms in his throat at her words. He can't keep fighting it anymore. He can't keep denying it. He can't keep pretending that there are other reasons his parents might hate him. They don't know he likes boys, so this is all they have. "Probably," he confesses.
Lillian wraps around him as best as she can in the bed. It reminds him of when she was younger, when he used to tease her and call her his mini monkey while carrying her in his arms from her bed to his after a nightmare or downstairs to get breakfast and watch cartoons. She's still every bit the mini monkey she once was. He knows he could probably stand and her arms and legs would grasp tightly at his neck and torso.
"I told you to stop hating yourself," Lillian says, the closest she can get to scolding him. He manages a weak smile and she wriggles beneath his arm, twining their fingers together. "I'm… So what now? What happens now that I've survived the transplant?"
He shrugs helplessly and Lillian squeezes his hand, coaxing him into attempting a response she may find adequate. "I don't know, Lils," he murmurs, pressing his lips to her forehead and breathing her in. "I still…want to, you know? Every time things get hard, whenever I get stressed, it's just…natural now to…to want what I've always used to get me through the tough times."
"Isn't that a problem then?" Lillian says gently, undemanding and non-judgemental. "Isn't it a problem that you started hurting yourself because I wasn't healthy, and now you want to keep hurting yourself even though I'm healthy?"
It hurts to hear his sister lay it out like that. Her assessment is simple, blunt, but also astute. He can't admit it out loud but she's right. He has to see that he has a problem because what he's doing isn't normal, at his age or even for someone ten years older than him. What he does has developed over a couple of years, and it was rooted in extreme levels of fear and pain, but now it's increasingly grown beyond his control. Like he'd told Blaine, he's not sure he wants to be like this anymore. He just doesn't know how to not be like this.
He suspects that the silence which lapses over them is enough for Lillian to know she's right.
He shuts his eyes and allows the silent tears to pool in the corner of his eyes before they trickle down his temples. Lillian has managed to force her words into the parts of his soul that hurt the most because she's his sister, she's the one who always knows him so well. All the times that she'd laid cuddled against him, confessing her fears, were just a rehearsal for him admitting to his own. Maybe that's how she finds ways past his defences and denials and shoves him towards acceptance – or, at the very least, acknowledgement.
"So, are there any cute boys at your school you've noticed yet?" Lillian chirps suddenly and he chokes on a wet laugh at the abrupt change of topic. She hears the crack in his tone and her hand reaches blindly for his face, smearing at the tears he'd tried to hide from her.
"I told you I'm not talking to you about that," he says gruffly.
"Which totally means there's someone otherwise you'd just say no," Lillian observes, peeking up at him with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "What do I have to do to convince you to tell me?"
He screws up his face at her in a frustrated sort of pout-meets-glare expression and she snorts.
"I hope the wind doesn't change and you get stuck looking like that. He'd find it totally unattractive," she teases with a bright grin. He pokes her tummy and she squeaks and leans away from him as much as possible, her grin transforming into huge, hopeful eyes staring at him.
"There's this guy," he says, his gaze wandering away to the wall when Lillian's eyes light up with excitement. He can't believe he's talking to her about this but it's not like he's going to talk to his roommate about it. "He got hurt pretty badly at Thanksgiving and I… I'd really like him to come to school with me next year because I think it'd be safer for him."
"And because you'd be able to see each other each day," Lillian adds, earning another poke to her tummy. She's not wrong, but he refuses to acknowledge that his motivation might be for reasons other than centred around Blaine's safety.
"He's just… We talk a lot, y'know? I rely on him so much but…but I don't want to ruin the friendship by stepping too far. We both have so much to deal with and I don't want to…to complicate it or anything," he finishes lamely, feeling his toes wriggle at the end of the bed with the anxiety of telling her about Blaine. Since Hunter had demanded to know whether he'd kissed the other boy, since Hunter had suggested Sebastian wouldn't allow another guy to touch him the same way he let Blaine, he's gone through spells of thinking exclusively about Blaine. Usually late at night. Or when he was naked in the shower.
Which he wasn't going to tell Lillian about at all.
"What's he like?"
A faint smile crosses his lips when he tries to describe Blaine's eyes to Lillian but he stumbles over the exact shade of gold and green because they aren't hazel. He struggles to explain the precise way their hands fit together which keep him grounded. He tries to explain how Blaine manages to calm him down with a tone that toes the line between firm and caring, quelling even his biggest spiral towards falling apart. He tries to help her understand why Blaine has become so important to him over the past few months.
He thinks he sounds like a stuttering fool.
He's pretty sure he doesn't do Blaine much justice at all.
"You like him," Lillian muses, dragging her fingertips down his chest again and smiling shyly up at him. "Do you wanna kiss him?"
The same heat he'd had when Hunter had asked that question fills his cheeks and he presses his lips together. He thinks about it sometimes, about what kissing someone would be like, what kissing Blaine would be like, but he's too afraid of screwing everything up with their friendship to try.
"I just want to be a good friend to him," he says, unwilling to jeopardise everything because he doesn't understand his feelings.
"Yeah, but-"
There's a knock on the door before it opens. Sinead rubs a hand across her face as she looks at them.
"I've heard your father has arrived in the lobby," Sinead says, inclining her head as she glances towards the corridor. "I didn't want to interrupt but-"
"No, it's fine," Sebastian says hastily, kissing Lillian's forehead as he begins trying to disengage her fingers from his clothes. He's already amending his previous thoughts about the weakness in her limbs – she's stronger than she looks because he can't get her off. "I have to go, mini monkey."
"But dad isn't going to-"
"Trust me, dad isn't happy with me at all," Sebastian sighs, smoothing his hands against hers and trying to twine their fingers together so he can peel them away from his shirt. "I really don't want to see him right now, Lils. I adore you, more than anything, and you can call me any time but…I need to avoid him."
The edges of Lillian's lips turn down, her lower lip jutting in a pout, but she releases her grip and folds her hands against her stomach. "No more hurting yourself," she says, staring at him with more maturity than her years. "Promise me you won't do any more stupid stuff."
He promises her only because he knows she won't let him get away unless he does. He doesn't have the time to bargain for a change to the deal, but secretly he's not sure he'll be able to keep his word. Lillian doesn't need to know that but he feels horrible that he's not certain he can keep a promise to the person that means the most to him.
"I love you," he says, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. She brushes her lips against his temple before he draws away, her hand reaching for his.
"I love you too."
He squeezes her hand and then has to let go so he can leave. He heads for the exit at the back of the ward which leads to the stairs because he figures his father will use the elevator. He doesn't know if his mother will be accompanying his father but he refuses to take that risk either. Avoiding a confrontation is what forces him onto the fire escape, descending two floors while his heart pounds erratically in his chest. He hadn't prepared himself for such a close call with someone who loathes him.
He cuts through the unfamiliar ward until he reaches the lifts, jabbing at the 'down' button until an elevator arrives and opens its metal doors for him to hide himself within. The elevator car drops several levels until he reaches Blaine's floor and it's only because he knows neither of his parents would need to visit the rehab floor that he starts to breathe easier.
He treads the familiar path to Blaine's room and finds the boy curled up in bed, a book in his hands, again. He has a feeling that Blaine and Hunter would have plenty to talk about considering how much they both read.
"Surprise," he calls from the doorway, a small smile pulling at his lips when Blaine's face breaks into a wide grin.
"My favourite visitor!" Blaine closes the book and swings himself over the edge of the bed, arms opening to Sebastian. "Hug me!"
"You get bossier every time," Sebastian muses, dodging Blaine's playful swat at his head and swooping in to wrap his arms around Blaine's body. He's pretty sure his heart skips a couple of beats and his neck feels warmer when Blaine grasps at his shirt.
Considering his conversation with Lillian – and Hunter's suggestive words about the friendship he had with Blaine – he avoids holding on for too long. He fights down the urge to leave a press of his lips to Blaine's temple and the boy looks at him with an odd expression, like he knows there's something off about Sebastian's behaviour.
But Blaine moves on quickly, letting go and holding out his arms. "Look!" Blaine says, flipping his arms over.
It takes Sebastian a second too long to understand what Blaine is trying to show him. He offers a tentative smile as he skims his fingertips along the scar that snakes along Blaine's forearm, noticing the differences between each arm. The scar betrays which arm had been so badly damaged but it's no longer as thin as it was. The skin has lost its pallor, presumably because Blaine sits in the gardens so often. The muscles in the arm have regained some definition.
"So what am I going to call you if you're not gimpy anymore?" he says, ducking and sidestepping when Blaine kicks at his shin.
"You could just call me Blaine."
"Too mainstream," he retorts, smirking when Blaine glowers at him. It's fun to rile Blaine up, enjoyable to make him pout and blush and frown. It's not like Blaine can't tell he's joking. "So, you're getting out of here, huh?"
Blaine hobbles backwards until his thighs hit the bed. He sinks onto the mattress and Sebastian lies beside him, listening to Blaine's intended plans after his release. There are still weeks of homework he has to catch up and apparently Blaine's brother was intending on visiting during the summer. Blaine wanted to enjoy a picnic in his backyard and delete his Facebook and clean up his room.
Sebastian listens but he's acutely conscious of the contact points between his body and Blaine's. He keeps thinking about how he's deliberately avoiding reaching for Blaine's hand by folding his arms across his stomach. Despite how he tries to focus on Blaine's words, he knows he's a little lost in his thoughts because of Hunter and Lillian's words. Did he have feelings for Blaine? Did Blaine have feelings for him? Or if he believed Hunter's observations about their friendship, would he screw everything up between them?
Blaine elbows him and it forces him back to awareness about how rude he's been. "If you don't want to pretend to listen to me, you can tell me to shut up, y'know."
His smile falters because his thoughts were in such crazy circles that he didn't feel like he could properly relax. He can't tell Blaine about how he feels because he needs to be certain that it's reciprocated. He can't lose everything because Lillian observed that he likes Blaine and Hunter thinks they're more than just friends.
He makes up an excuse which isn't entirely a lie. "I've just got a lot on my mind," he says
"Want to talk about it?"
He feels ashamed that Blaine opens himself up all the time, offering help whenever Sebastian needs it, and Sebastian tends to close himself off from being examined. It reinforces his feelings of being an inadequate friend and a useless listener. He knows he takes advantage of Blaine's kindness too often and he hates himself for it.
"I don't know what will happen when summer holidays start," he murmurs, taking the easy way out. He has no idea how to quantify his feelings into words and he's convinced he'll scare Blaine away if he does. "I don't… I told Lillian about…about my…habits and I- She got pretty upset."
Blaine shifts on the bed until his head is resting against Sebastian's shoulder, his fingers lingering against Sebastian's bicep. It's similar to Lillian earlier only Blaine's nothing like his sister. Blaine's another guy and, as much as Sebastian hates to admit it, maybe Hunter's right: he wouldn't let anyone else touch him this way.
"You could spend the summer learning that you're cared about and not alone," Blaine says, squeezing his bicep. "You could learn to grow stronger and fight back against what hurts you. Lillian's healing. This could be your opportunity to heal too."
He appreciates that Blaine doesn't directly state that he has a problem and the holidays can be used to get clean. He can't believe he's an…an addict just yet. It's a scary word that opens a world of scarier connotations.
Despite the distance Sebastian had tried to keep from Blaine, he's comforted by Blaine encroaching on his space. He's bound by blood to Lillian, a decade of sibling love and jealousy fusing them together for the rest of their lives. Blaine is…different. He's an anomaly, someone Sebastian allows close to him when no one else has a chance, someone that smooths Sebastian's rough edges until he almost forgets they existed.
"You aren't going home though, right?" Blaine says, interrupting Sebastian's internal musings.
He sighs, tilting his head towards the top of Blaine's hair. "I don't know," he admits, trying to stop his fingers from fidgeting towards Blaine's. Are they too close for two people that are just friends? He knows he wouldn't hold John or Aiden's hands this much if they were in the hospital, wouldn't climb into bed with any other guy and allow them to cuddle into him. "I doubt it."
"Do what feels right, but also choose the safest option," Blaine says gently, his hand curling around Sebastian's upper arm. "Wherever you are, I'll be around. We can hang out the whole of summer and whenever you feel particularly…needy for something to stop the hurt, I can be there. Just… Don't let yourself keep suffering with this on your own, Seb."
Sebastian lowers his cheek to rest against the top of Blaine's curls, inhaling deeply while processing the words. There's a part of him that feels – quite strongly – that his habits aren't that bad. Hunter and Wes and Blaine and maybe even Lillian don't really know what he does so that means they can't properly gauge how dangerous it is. He's a teenager and sometimes he drinks and smokes pot – big deal. His connection with Terry, his friendship with the other guys, is something he knows he'd have to sacrifice if he wants to stay sober. Considering his circle of friendship is already limited, it isn't an appealing option.
Except he could recall Hunter's concern, when his stubbornness combatted Sebastian's own, after the second empty bottle had been discovered. He remembers Hunter's words about Lillian finding him – passed out, hungover, high, and unable to wake him – and it scares him. He knows he couldn't do that to her. It might just scare her so much that her new heart gave out. He doesn't care about his parents but his little sister is his world.
The silence that settles over them isn't uncomfortable with Blaine loosely entwined around him but it does start to feel awkward when Sebastian's not sure what he should say. He's still struggling with the thought of owning up to everything that he's done, too lost in his own head to be the sort of friend Blaine needs. At the same time, the other boy isn't attempting to pry into his thoughts nor is he drawing away from the tangle of their limbs to put distance between them. He's not used to being silent with someone for so long, with only the quiet, steady breaths of Blaine being heard above the buzzing in his head.
"I'm sorry I'm a terrible friend," he murmurs, voicing his loudest insecurity after laying in silence for so long. He's never really had a friend like Blaine before but it feels as though lying quietly with him is the wrong thing to do. He should be reassuring Blaine about his impending discharge, or finding out what Blaine's plans are for school in the fall, or paying attention to the fullness of his lips and analysing whether Blaine will kiss him back or not.
"You're the best sort of friend," Blaine says, rolling onto his side to curl closer to Sebastian's body on the confined hospital bed. "You're a good friend, Sebastian. You might think you're doing all the wrong things but it's comforting to lie here and be able to breathe calmly. I always enjoy you visiting and this is no exception."
Sebastian's never really considered Blaine's ongoing battle with anxiety. He wonders if it's in any way similar to his own but when he thinks about the considerable trauma Blaine had been through, he's not sure they're really that comparable. He wonders how the anxiety affects Blaine now and what can be done to alleviate the feelings. He wonders if Blaine has fears about going to public school, about juniors or seniors that might beat him up, about rumours of his sexuality getting passed around. He wonders about the numerous problems that Blaine could face in a new environment.
But was a suggestion that Blaine look into attending Dalton in the fall a wise idea?
As much as he wants to resist clinging to Blaine because he's afraid his feelings will be revealed, he realises he's being ridiculously stupid. He might not see Blaine until the summer, which is weeks away. And even then, he doesn't know what will happen. He has no idea when he'll see Blaine again and the fear of their friendship disintegrating with the distance and the uncertainty makes him curl an arm around Blaine's body, his nose pressing into Blaine's hair to inhale the scent of his shampoo.
"Thank you," he breathes and he wonders if it's his imagination that some of the tension in Blaine's shoulders seems to fade.
"You're welcome," Blaine whispers back, fingers spreading over Sebastian's belly.
The challenge in allowing himself to touch Blaine, in holding him closer, is that once he starts, he doesn't want to let go. They lay pressed together for a couple of hours and Sebastian thinks it might be the closest he's ever got to basking. With Blaine cuddled against him, with Lillian doing okay, he thinks that maybe some of his problems have begun to alleviate. Maybe, just maybe, he should be spending the summer holidays sorting himself out. If he doesn't need to numb himself to stop thinking about Lillian on her death bed, then he doesn't need to drink so much.
…right?
He doesn't feel pressured to fill in the gaping silence between them with errant words. It would seem that Blaine feels the same since his fingers roam over Sebastian's chest but he doesn't say anything. Sometimes his hand is haphazard, like Blaine isn't sure what he's doing, and other times they seem to be possessed with a purpose that Sebastian doesn't understand.
"I know I probably won't see you again until the summer," Blaine says, his fingers tip-toeing towards Sebastian's heart, "but I hope you'll still answer my calls and texts until you can see me."
"Of course I will," he says, determination flooding him as he catches Blaine's hand in his. It draws the hazel eyes towards him which flicker with something he's not smart enough to recognise. "Why wouldn't I?"
Blaine shrugs, twisting his fingers until they're tangled with Sebastian's own. He has that feeling again about how he wouldn't do this with anyone else. Is Hunter right? Is there something more with Blaine and he's too ignorant to see it?
"You're important to me," Blaine says, a small crease at the corner of his eye indicating that he's thinking carefully about the words. "With Lillian recovering, and me being discharged, and your uncertain summer plans, I know it could be harder to work out who to see or what to do. So I- I just wanted you to know that I…I value our friendship and don't want to lose you."
"Blaine…" He sits up, which takes Blaine with him. The other boy seems to be looking everywhere except his eyes and he supresses a sigh of exasperation. "I can count the amount of people I trust on two fingers," he says, squeezing Blaine's hand in an attempt to indicate that he's one of them. "I don't plan on being foolish enough to let that go just because you're not gimpy anymore."
Blaine seems appeased by the news, although Sebastian still detects some level of distraction in his expression. He wants to ask about it so he can try to reassure Blaine more but he's not sure if he's prepared to hear the answer. Learning what distracts Blaine might leave Sebastian with more questions than answers.
"You probably have to go," Blaine mumbles, ignoring the jibe at his arm which makes Sebastian wonder what's really running through Blaine's mind. The other boy glances at him briefly before drawing his hand away. Sebastian hadn't noticed the time but, regretfully, Blaine's right: he can't stay much longer.
"You're getting out of here tomorrow," he says, cupping Blaine's cheeks in his hands and drawing Blaine's eyes towards him. "I promise, on my life or Lillian's or whatever will make you believe me, that I'll see you as much as I can during the summer."
A tentative smile plays on Blaine's lips as he finally maintains some eye contact. "That's quite a promise, Smythe."
His thumb smooths over Blaine's left cheekbone as he commits every speck in Blaine's eyes to memory. "Does it make you believe me, Anderson?"
Blaine's Adam's apple bobs, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to Sebastian's. "It makes me hopeful you'll keep it."
It's not the answer he'd expected but Blaine's eyes look away again and he tries to reassure himself that Blaine heard him and trusts him enough that it's a promise he'll keep. It's one that seems much more manageable than the promise he made Lillian, because he will keep it. He needs Blaine to stay in his life just as much as he needs Lillian to remain alive.
He wraps his arms around Blaine's neck and Blaine squeaks faintly before his arms settle around Sebastian's waist. He wishes he could cast magic spells over Blaine's body to shield him from getting hurt between now and when they'll see each other again. The uncertainty threatens to unspool the threads holding his heart and composure together.
"You can always call me or text me," he says, nosing at the curls behind Blaine's ear as he commits the scent of him, the feel of his body, to every part of his memory in the hopes it will help him get through the next weeks.
"And you can always call or text me," Blaine echoes, his hands bunching into the back of Sebastian's shirt. "You'll be okay, Seb. I know you will."
Sebastian fails to have the same level of confidence as Blaine but he tries to wear a confident smile as he lets Blaine go and slides off the bed to put on his shoes. Blaine stands carefully, using the bed to support him as he walks mostly unaided to Sebastian's side.
"You are getting better," he compliments and Blaine's cheeks turn pink.
"Now it's your turn to get better," Blaine says, rising on the point of his good leg to leave a quick kiss on Sebastian's cheek that he's pretty sure will burn a hole through his flesh over the course of the next month. Does Blaine…?
Before Sebastian can really think about responding, Blaine slips away and settles on the edge of the bed, looking nonchalant. It's like kissing a guy's cheek doesn't really mean anything to him. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe he doesn't feel anything and-
Sebastian's pretty sure he's going to drive himself crazy.
He leaves before he could make a fool out of himself and spends most of his walk to the elevators in a daze, his cheek pulsing with warmth from the brief contact with Blaine's lips. His whole body feels fuzzy and overheated. He's so distracted that it's not until a hand clamps around his arm just before he leaves the front doors of the hospital that he registers someone has been calling his name.
"Earth to Sebastian," Therese says, waving a hand in front of his eyes.
He sighs and rolls his eyes as he looks down at her amused face. "Are you going to play the 'how many fingers am I holding up' game? Because that got old about thirteen years ago."
Therese grins and he wonders if his sarcastic sense of humour is really that hilarious or she's ridiculously good at acting like it is. He suspects that the range of news she'd have to deliver to patients and their families on a daily basis probably makes her very good at shielding what she's really thinking and feeling.
"Summer holidays are approaching," she says, releasing his arm as she steadies in front of him. Determination radiates from every pore and he realises there's no easy escape from this conversation. "Have you figured out what you're going to do?"
He shakes his head, scratching at the back of his neck when his discomfort increases. He knows he'll probably send himself crazy agonising over the right decision to make for the summer during the ensuing weeks too.
"If you don't want to stay at school but don't feel comfortable returning home, you could stay with me and my family," Therese says, her expression hopeful and bright and earnest. "We have a couple of spare rooms for when my brother or my husband's parents come to stay with us. You'd have more freedom to come and go than staying at school and I won't be as dismissive as your parents are about your wellbeing."
He raises an eyebrow, surprised by her offer. He had assumed that staying anywhere with anyone that knew of his past habits would come with a long list of conditions. He might also have thought there may have been a contract he needed to sign to stay with someone. Which would require his blood on the paper.
"What's the catch?" he asks, sneaking a look at his watch to ensure he won't miss the bus.
"I'm sure you could guess those," Therese says with a shrug and ticks the conditions off on her fingers. "I'd want you looking after yourself. I'd want you to speak up if you weren't feeling okay. We can't help you if we don't know you need it."
It doesn't sound like she's saying "no alcohol or drugs, or I turf you out" but Sebastian's not sure it's a risk he's willing to take. Would James allow him to return to Dalton if he makes plans that don't work out? Is it wiser to just stay at Dalton for the stability? Should he endure returning home so he could mend things with his parents?
"I'm not going to kick you out if you have a slip up, Seb," Therese says, touching a hand to his upper arm like she knows what he's deeply afraid of, like she knows he's worried about screwing up and using again over the break because the offer, the availability, is just too tempting. "I'm just suggesting a place that might be a safe alternative to the ideas you've already been entertaining."
It would be rude to reject Therese's idea so he allows a nod. It might be the lesser of all the evils he's been thinking about the past few weeks but he'll have to ponder it further before he gives any final decisions.
"I'll think about it," he says, glancing at his watch again and realising he's going to be late soon. "I need go so I don't miss the bus."
"You still have my number, correct?"
He nods, managing a step out of her grasp.
"Use it," she says, her eyes narrowing into a distinctly parental glare before he nods again and darts out the front doors to escape her and ensure he's on the bus.
He's only just finished dashing across the road and fumbling for his wallet when the bus turns onto the street. He's glad he'd ducked away when he had because although he doubts James would call his parents or the police – he has a feeling the principal knows the fine line he's been walking on with Amelia and William Smythe the past months – the threat of a phone call is still a risk he has no intention of taking.
Hunter appears to be out when Sebastian arriving at their room. He tears a piece of paper from one of his exercise books and divides it into two columns with three rows.
It takes him a while to brainstorm the pros and cons of staying at Dalton, returning home, or staying with Therese's family. He's not entirely sure he covers every possibility and he probably misses a few obvious things that Blaine or Hunter could have suggested, but writing it down makes it clear that there are more cons to returning home than pros. Staying at Dalton or going to Therese's are essentially the same – there are many unknowns about staying with Therese but it lessens the trapped feeling he has with Dalton. It's also his own room – he has no idea if he'd have to share with someone at Dalton during the summer, someone he probably doesn't know – and he assumes he'd have greater flexibility to see Lillian and Blaine if he was with Therese.
His biggest concern, without a doubt, is staying with a colleague of his mother and the sort of message that would send to his parents. If he refuses to go home, then Dalton could be seen as neutral ground. Staying with someone associated with the hospital is like drawing a line in the sand and taking sides in a battle he's not prepared to fight. He never wanted to get into a massive conflict with his parents. He never realised things had spiralled so far out of control until his father confronted him in the waiting room.
And yet…
If he's going to get better, if he's going to try to take care of himself and keep his promise to Lillian, then lingering in abandoned Dalton corridors or rooms might just send him up the wall. At least Therese has an older son and two younger daughters, and he can come and go to see Blaine or Lillian whenever he likes. Maybe they could even visit him at Therese's place. Therese had shown her patience and care numerous times and, perhaps, he needs that sort of steady guidance to stay away from his terrible tendencies towards alcohol and marijuana to forget how much he aches inside.
He folds the paper and tucks it into the drawer of his bedside table to review when Hunter isn't around. Maybe he'll add to it. Maybe he'll think about other issues. For now, he's not sure he feels any closer to deciding on where he should stay during the summer.
~TBC~