CHAPTER 7

In the morning, Blaine’s first thought was that he would be perfectly happy to wake up like that, in Kurt’s arms, every day of his life. Then he remembered that he can’t.

He was tainted, broken – he would never be able to be in a relationship, to make anyone happy. To have meaningless sex – maybe, some day. Eric told him he was a perfect little slut, right? But actual loving relationship? No way. Nobody would be able to love him after… what happened. After the attack. Oh for god’s sake! After the rape. He was raped and it made him worthless. There, he said it. Denying it didn’t make it any less true, did it? He may as well just admit it.

It was as if a tiny switch shifted in his brain. Where yesterday there was only fear, panic and denial, now anger was simmering slowly to a boil. He was furious at this bastard for ruining his life, for taking everything – his chances of love, of meaningful relationships, of every beautiful first time, his innocence, his joy and optimism, and trust in the world. He was mad at himself for being so stupid, so na�ve, for not listening to Kurt. He was angry at the world in general, at his parents for not being there for him, at the bouncer at the club for letting him in, at Eric’s roommate for not being there that night.

His mother couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to call if she tried.

“Hi mom.”

“Hello, Blaine. I just wanted to let you know we’re in France already. The flight was terrible, you wouldn’t believe! It was two hours late and don’t even get me started on the flight attendant, what an incompetent girl! Anyway, do you want anything particular from Paris?”

He ground his teeth so hard it hurt.

“Mom? Mr. Hummel told you two days ago that I was attacked and you are just calling me now, and your first question is if I want anything from Paris?” He dimly realized that his voice was rising by the end of the sentence. He could see Kurt scrambling out of bed quickly, his eyes wide, and gesturing towards the door before he went out, closing it behind him. He felt his anger turning to rage. He didn’t care.

***
Kurt almost flew out of the bedroom in his haste to leave, not sure if it was more to give Blaine privacy to talk to his mom or because he hardly recognized this boy in his bed, seething with anger, eyes flashing, and it scared him. Fortunately, he’d left a pair of jeans and a matching shirt in the laundry room after ironing – it wasn’t a perfect outfit, but it would do. He took his time with his morning routine before carefully opening the door to his room. There was no more yelling, so he assumed it would be safe to come in. He was wrong.

“Um, hi. Everything alright?”

“No.” His friend was sitting cross-legged on the bed, playing with his phone.

“Oh.” He didn’t know what more to say. Blaine radiated hostility. He’d never felt so uncomfortable in his presence before.

“My own mother doesn’t fucking care if I live or die.”

“Oh Blaine, I’m sure…”

“Don’t, Kurt. You don’t know anything. Just… leave me alone, all right?” There was an edge to the other boy’s voice, a tension of barely held patience.

“But…”

“Get the fuck out!” Blaine’s phone shattered against the wall beside him. It was far enough that Kurt was almost sure it wasn’t directed right at him, but it still scared him witless. He’s never seen Blaine – the most charming, dapper and composed person he knew – like this. He had no idea what to do. So he ran.

***
The second the door shut behind Kurt, Blaine felt like the worst bastard in the world. This look of fear in his friend’s eyes… It broke his heart. And he was the one that put it there. He just kept destroying everything around him, didn’t he? Maybe he should just leave before he destroyed anything else? Go somewhere… anywhere. He didn’t care, as long as everyone he knew was safe from his toxic influence. Yes, he would go… as soon as he’s able to move.

He curled into a tight little ball in the middle of the bed, willing himself to stop existing. When Carole came in hours later, he was still in the same position.

“Is it safe to enter now or are there any other missiles flying?” she asked cautiously.

Blaine hid his face in the blankets, ashamed. Of course everyone would hear, he wasn’t exactly quiet.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Is Kurt alright?”

“Just shaken. He went to the garage to help his dad, said he needed some space for a while. They’ll be back for dinner.”

“I’ve lost him, haven’t I?”

“No, I don’t think so, Kurt’s tougher than that. One fight won’t make him run for the hills. Just… talk to him later. Otherwise he’ll blame himself.”

“Himself? No, it was all me!”

“I’m just saying - that’s what he’ll think. So, do you want to talk? About earlier? People say I’m quite good at listening.”

“Thanks, but… not really. Not yet.”

“Okay. How about going downstairs for late lunch and helping me with dinner afterwards? You could spend some of this anger chopping vegetables.” Her smile could only be described as motherly.

He went and helped as much as he could with only one arm fully functional. They didn’t talk much, but there was a feeling of comfortable domesticity that soothed Blaine’s nerves. Afterwards, they sat down with coffee and freshly baked cookies, and before he knew it, he was engaged in a lively conversation, telling Carole all about his passions and school and the Warblers. By the time Kurt and his dad came back, Blaine felt like they’d been friends forever and he was amazed at how much better he felt.

Blaine expected dinner to be uncomfortable after what happened in the morning, but it wasn’t. Kurt was cautious around him and talked less than usual, and Mr. Hummel looked worried, but everyone made him feel just as welcome and accepted as ever. He approached his friend as soon as he could get him alone.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It just… my mom’s call…”

“It’s fine. I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I talked to dad and I know it happens sometimes. I’ll listen next time you tell me you need to be alone, okay? Just try not to kill me with flying objects.” Kurt was actually smiling, even if it was a bit hesitant. Maybe they’d be fine after all.

“I’m so sorry…”

“I said it’s fine.”

After a relaxed evening playing board games with the whole family, Blaine started dreading the night and the dreams that would inevitably come, vivid and detailed to a fault. The last nightmare was still fresh in his mind. He considered not going to bed at all, but at this point his shoulder was pretty much killing him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit up all night. He hated to bother Kurt again, especially after the morning outburst, and cursed himself for being so weak, so dependent. But as bedtime approached, he was quickly losing control over his fears. Finally, he swallowed his pride.

“Kurt,” he stopped his friend, who has just come to say goodnight, already in his night clothes. He looked exhausted. “Could you… stay? Sleep here?”

“I… wait.” Kurt disappeared in the hall and after a minute of quiet conversation with his dad came back smiling. “Fine, but I’m taking a quilt. You are such a blanket hog!”

“Am not!”

“Are too. I was freezing last night.”

Blaine fell asleep snuggled closely to Kurt’s chest again, listening to his strong heartbeat and his sweet voice humming softly song after song to keep nightmares at bay. It worked like a charm.