May 13, 2012, 8:04 p.m.
Struggling: Battlefield
T - Words: 2,799 - Last Updated: May 13, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 27/? - Created: Apr 12, 2012 - Updated: May 13, 2012 849 0 0 0 0
As soon as Blaine closed his eyes, his mind continued his nightmare at the camp he so despised.
He woke up in an unfamiliar room filled crosses, pictures of Jesus, and Bible verses written across the walls.
"Welcome to your new dorm room, Blaine. I hope it's to your liking." Another man's voice said. It was not the same man who hit him. "You're to stay in here whenever you have journal time, instead of writing with the other campers. Oh, and you are to sleep in here also. Have fun!" The man's voice cackled with laughter. "Maybe this'll teach you that you will go to Hell if you do not reject Satan's ways."
Blaine blinked slowly as he moved his arms. Fat chance that'll happen, He thought. Blaine's back was on fire from the stripes he had to endure over the past month and a half. He was amazed he wasn't sent home like the others yet. Of course, he snorted, Dad paid them off to keep me here. I hate him and somewhat hate Mom. Matthew was the CEO of a printing company that worked for corporate companies.
He moved around more, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and leaning his arms on his legs. Blaine looked around at all the pictures and words on the wall. He rolled his eyes and tried to stand, but it hurt his back too much. He reached around and touched the bandages on the stripes.
"PRAYER TIME!" The speaker over his head announced. Blaine found a shirt inside one of the drawers and opened his door. He discovered his new room isn't far from the old room he shared with Lance, his roommate. All the campers lined up single file down the hall with the councilors taking roll call. They never missed a camper. Blaine went to the front as his last name was first in the alphabet. One of the councilors, a real nasty brute, pushed Blaine into the wall as he was lining up to go the chapel.
Blaine glared at him. "What's your problem? I didn't do anything to you!"
The man laughed. "What's my problem? What's my problem? My problem is you being a gay and a fag, THAT'S my problem. And what you did to me was YOU don't believe in HIM. That's right, you faggot, you don't believe in your savior who's going to save your tiny little ass. GOD is great and merciful, you sick fag. DON'T YOU EVER FORGET IT." The man shoved him one last time into the wall before walking on. The pastor walked out in front of the line.
"Good afternoon, my children." We aren't your children, you idiot. And you aren't married, nor did adopt anyone. Not that anyone would want to be with you. Blaine thought as they walked into the pews.
Blaine woke up when he noticed that his head had slipped off the pillow he was resting on. He gritted his teeth out of pain as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Mairead was in a chair next to him with her head asleep on her arms leaning on the bed. Joey was in a sleeping bag on the floor on the other side of the bed. Blaine tried to lift his head, but it was too painful to do anything other than move his eyelids up and down. As he moved his left arm, a curious feeling brushed against his arm. Clear tubing was moving at the same time. An IV? He thought woozily. Who put in an IV? I can't be that bad off can I? I mean, I am at Dalton. Not the hospital… Blaine looked up, rolling his eyes instead of his head. On the wooden coat hanger pole that was standard in all Dalton dorm rooms hung two hospital fluid bags off of two gold tipped hanger branches. He could barely see without his contacts or glasses; but he as he squinted, painfully, he was sure one of them said Somethin- Medical-Saline and the other Ibup – something. Blaine tried to move his other arm and felt something fall out from under his arm. He cautiously moved his left hand and the IV to pick it up. It was a thin white rod with a metal tip and cord attached to monitor that was in Mairead's hand. Blaine could see a pad of paper and a pen in her other hand next to her. Her iPhone was next to her, a movie still playing on the screen and her ear buds still surprisingly staying in her ears. He felt tired again, just moving his arms and looking around. A sudden beeping sound alerted woke him up a bit.
Mairead moaned and sat up a little bit, stretching her arms up instead of straight out like she usually did; she remembered Blaine was in front of her. She pressed a button on her watch to stop the annoying beeping alarm to wake her up; she had forgotten to turn her school wake-up alarm time off. She then located the pad of paper she had been using to record his temperature every twenty minutes, like Carole said. Speaking of Carole, Mairead would have thought Kurt would be back about now. She pressed a button on the thermometer monitor that would measure Blaine's temperature and looked at her watch. Hm, it's only six in the morning? When did they leave last night? She thought. I suppose they need sleep after the long drive back to Lima. Her mind drifted off as she waited for the monitor to beep with a final number. Dang, did I really fall asleep visualizing? Shouldn't have done tonight, since Blaine… A soft and quiet beeping snapped her focus back to the monitor. The screen read LT, meaning low temperature. Mairead looked at it, bemused. She took her ear buds out of her ears and moved to check the thermometer when she noticed Blaine's eyes were halfway open and looking at her.
"Hey, you doing okay?" She smiled softly, looking at his battered face.
He took a shaky breath and tried to smile, then grimaced. Ow, who knew smiling with a broken nose could hurt? "K-Kinda hurting right now… but it's somewhat manageable." He whispered. Blaine tried to get himself into a sitting position, but Mairead held him down, again.
"Easy, Blaine. I know you want to get up, but you have to wait for a little while longer. You had to get eleven stitches for that big cut in your forehead. I think we both rather not have that bandage on them blood soaked before they have time to start healing." She told him softly as she reinserted the thermometer into the crook of his underarm. Pressing the button again to make it start measuring his temperature, she got on the opposite side of the bed. "Here, your head slipped off. Lemme get another pillow, that one looks flat and uncomfortable." She grabbed the pillow by his head and threw it on top of cylindrical bundle on the floor. Mairead ran out of the room and across the hall into another room.
Crap, he thought, that's David's room. If she's taking a pillow out of his room… wait, what would happen? That dude never gets mad at anything. Huh. Blaine thought amusingly. She came back the next second with a fluffy pillow.
"Here, let me help before you hurt yourself." Mairead got on the bed with the pillow in hand.
"Prop me up against the wall? I've been lying on my back around too much." Blaine asked hoarsely, his throat dry. She shook her head. He then remembered what she said earlier. He wanted to brush his hair back from his forehead but Mairead caught his hand he was lifting up slowly just in time. She cocked an eyebrow, looking at him. He groaned, out of pain and frustration.
Mairead gently put her hand under his head, being mindful of his wounds, lifted it up and put the pillow underneath before setting his head back down.
Blaine mumbled thanks, dizzy just from the movement. His stomach rumbled; he hadn't had anything to eat since Saturday night, when Joey made him eat the pudding to take the medication.
Mairead chuckled softly. He groaned. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm seriously craving some food right now." It broke her heart to say, "No. Not until Carole comes back."
The thermometer beeped with the final number. Mairead climbed over Blaine and read the monitor attached the thermometer. "Hm… 103.1 degrees." She looked at him worriedly. "Your temperature's been climbing up the whole night. Carole's worried you might have an infection from the knife, fork, and food that was on the plate. And Matthew's disgusting germs." She growled softly, Joey hadn't woken up yet. Mairead wrote the temperature on the paper when Blaine's phone rumbled. Blaine quickly, without thinking, turned his head towards his nightstand and groaned; the pain he kept under control came back with a vengeance. Mairead shook her head and rolled her eyes at him, giving him the "I told you so" look.
She took the phone and answered it. "Hi Carole. It's Mairead. Sorry, my cell phone was in my backpack. He just woke up. Mmhm. No, I haven't given anything for him to eat yet; I was waiting for you and see if the food I give might have a bad reaction to the fluids you administered in the IV. Okay, I can give him whatever he wants to eat." Mairead directed the last sentence at Blaine. He gave her a thumbs-up, his eyes closed. "Yeah, the bandages seem fine; I haven't peeled any of them back. His temperature has been climbing all night, but it's seems to be going up quite slowly. The last one was 103.1 degrees," Mairead touched Blaine's chest and palm, "His skin is hot. Should I… yes, I'll do that. Okay, I'll see at around eleven; oh, of course. Hi Kurt! Yeah, he just woke up; do you – 'kay, he's still a bit woozy though. But I'll hand it to him, see you at eleven." She handed his Android to him and mouthed Kurt. He slowly reached his right hand up to the phone, not wanting to aggravate the cuts on his chest.
"Hell-o?" Blaine said slowly and quietly, his brother still asleep.
"Blaine! You're awake! I didn't expect you to be awake already. Do you want anything to eat? I'll go and pick something up. What, Carole? She says soft foods right now. What do you want?" Blaine thought.
"Does steak count as soft?" He whispered in to the phone. Laughter could be heard from the bathroom where Mairead was wetting several washcloths in cold water.
"Carole says no. Pick something else, soup maybe?"
"NO." Blaine nearly dropped the phone. He hated any kind of broth soup after what happened one time in the summer camp.
"Okay, calm down, I won't get soup. Blaine? Are you still there?" Kurt asked as Blaine had tried to calm himself down before talking into the phone. "Blaine, I'm sorry. Please talk? Blaine!"
Mairead saw his distress and gently took the phone out of his hand. "I think he's in pain, Kurt. I'm going to let him go back to sleep after I reconnect his ibuprofen bag to the IV. You're coming around eleven, right? I think you can bring some ice cream for him. His favorite flavor is chocolate, I think. Yeah, I'll see you then." Blaine nudged Mairead, bringing his hand to his ear making only his thumb and pinky out of his closed fist. "I think Blaine wants to say one last thing. Okay, see you at eleven." She handed the phone back to him and walked back to the bathroom.
"Kurt, I'm sorry; I shouldn't have stopped talking. I'll tell you later; if I'm awake. I love you." Blaine said softly into the phone.
"I'm sorry too. And I love you so much. I'll see you at eleven, okay?" Blaine said an affirmative before hanging up. He slowly stretched his arm out to place the Android on the nightstand.
The pain was defiantly starting to get to him, Blaine was hissing loud enough for Mairead to hear. She walked back to his bedside with cold, wet wash cloths in hand. "Hey, like I said to Kurt, I'm going to reconnect your pain meds again. Carole taught me how to disconnect it over the phone when I called her last night. She's going to bring over another fever reducer just in case today." Blaine looked away. "What's wrong, Blaine? You know that Kurt and Carole are just trying to help you."
"Don't connect the ibuprofen, I don't want it. I don't want to go back. Not there, not again, not ever." He made a motion to rip the IV out his hand but Mairead caught his hand and set it down on the bed, holding it there.
"Where did you go last time, Blaine? Tell me, please? We both know that I have the same problems with dreams, mine is just… worse than yours." She asked softly. He looked at her with tears in his eyes.
He was whispering, "It was the camp again, I'm in line to go into the chapel. It's when the brute shoved me into the wall and right after I'm sitting in the damn pew." She sighed; she knew the upcoming memory sequence was going to be bad if she put him back on the pain medication.
"Blaine, you know you're in pain, right? You have to go back on the ibuprofen so you can heal. You do want that, right?" She whispered into his ear as she removed her hand. He nodded, crying softly. "Why don't we compromise, okay? I put the drip back in only when you're asleep on your own. You look exhausted already, and you've only been up for fifteen minutes. Okay?" Mairead stroked the side of his face gently, knowing this was what Miranda did to do to get him calm down quickly.
"S-sure," Blaine mumbled. Mairead once again climbed on the other side of the bed to comfort Blaine and to keep stroking his face. His eyes were already drooping when she began singing one of her favorite artists' hit songs from a couple years back.
Don't try to explain your mind
I know what's happening here
One minute it's love
And suddenly it's like a battlefield
One word turns into a war
Why is it the smallest things that tear us down?
My world's nothing when you don't
I'm not here without a shield
Can't go back now
Both hands tied behind my back with nothing
Oh no, these times when we climb so fast to fall again
Why we gotta fall for it now
I never meant to start a war
You know I never wanna hurt you
Don't even know what we're fighting for
Why does love always feel like a battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield?
Blaine started mumbling as she was singing, his eyes closing for longer and longer time periods.
Can't swallow our pride,
Neither of us wanna raise that flag, mhmm
If we can't surrender then we both gonna lose what we had, oh no
Both hands tied behind my back with nothing
Oh no, these times when we climb so fast to fall again
I don't wanna fall for it now
I never meant to start a war
You know I never wanna hurt you
Don't even know what we're fighting for
Why does love always feel like a battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield
Why does love always feel like a battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield
I guess you better go and get your armor, (get your armor) get your armor
Mairead saw that he was snoring lightly out of his mouth before getting off the bed, being mindful of Joey who was still asleep on the floor in the sleeping bag, and walked over to his impromptu IV pole. Blaine stirred for a bit when she stopped singing. Surprised, she continued singing as she reconnected the ibuprofen drip to his IV line.
I guess you better go and get your armor, (get your armor) get your armor
Why does love always feel like
Why does love always feel like
A battlefield, a battlefield
I never meant
To start a war
Don't even know
What we're fighting for
She took her place again at his bedside and took his temperature and recorded it. It had finally reached 103.5 degrees, the point at which Carole had told Mairead to call her. She decided against it; knowing that she and Kurt would be there in a few hours. Doing what Carole said, she took the wet and cold washcloths and put them gently on Blaine's collarbone, one under his neck, and two on his chest. She covered up his scar on his chest with one. Mairead put back in her ear buds and continued watching Star Trek, the 2009 version, on her iPod and tried to keep her own memories away as she wait for Kurt's and Carole's arrival.