“It’s too late to be good.” – Lucky Luciano

It seems like an endless loop.  Darkness and horror and fear – he can’t wake from the nightmare.  He dreams of his father at the beach, but it’s no longer sunny.  There is no laughter, no playing children.  Warm arms still surround him, smothering now instead of comforting.  His father yells in the distance, but Kurt can’t get to him.  The arms tighten around his chest and neck.  He can’t breathe—

Kurt wakes up, kicking and gasping for air.  His shirt is soaked with sweat and he’s crying.

“Shh, lay back down.  It’s okay.”

Kurt jumps back when he hears the voice, gracelessly falling to the floor – the pain in his hip now matching that in his head.  Blaine gazes down at him, a concerned expression on his face.

Kurt looks to the bathroom and then to the bedroom door.  He starts to scramble further from the bed.

“Stop.”

Kurt has no choice but to look back at Blaine.  He feels pinned by the scowl across Blaine’s face.  Kurt focuses on his breathing, counting in his head to help him calm down.

“Come back up here.”

His head shakes minutely before he can stop it and then his eyes go wide.  He can’t say no to Blaine, but he’s paralyzed with fear.  Bits and pieces from the night before start putting themselves together in his head.  The restaurant… and he ran… and it was so cold.  And then…

Blaine killed someone.  He shot him right there on the street. 

“I need…  I’m going to be sick.”

Kurt turns himself over, hunched on hands and knees.

“You’re fine.  Take some deep breaths and get back in bed.”

The tone leaves no room for argument.

He allows himself a few shaky cries before he grabs for the bed to help pull himself up.  His body rolls onto the edge of the bed, settling with his back to Blaine.  After a few seconds, Blaine sighs and pulls at Kurt’s body until he turns over, body tucked against Blaine’s side, head on his chest.

“Now shh.  I want you to calm down.”

“I—“

“No.  Just be quiet.  You had a rough night and you need to rest.”

Blaine’s hands ran up and down his back and arm making his skin crawl.  Kurt tries to focus on just breathing and pulling himself together.  This is Blaine’s idea of comfort, but Kurt couldn’t feel any less at ease.

His breathing eventually evens out and his body becomes less rigid.

“There now.  Much better.”

Blaine shifts slightly, reaching across to the nightstand.

“Here, take these.  They’re for the pain – I’m sure your head is still pounding.”

Kurt props himself up on his elbow and takes the proffered pills.  The cool water as he swallows the pills feels like such relief to his still overheated body.

“Let’s just lie down for a bit more.”

Kurt rests his head back on Blaine.  The gentle rise and fall of his chest is strangely soothing.  His eyelids become heavier and heavier and he tries blinking owlishly to keep them open.  His headache starts to subside, but with it the edges of his vision start to blur.  Defenseless against it, he drifts to sleep.

***

When he wakes again, two thoughts immediately come to him.  First, he hadn’t had any more nightmares.  And second, he’s alone in bed.  The panic he felt earlier no longer boiled over, subdued like the rest of his emotions.  He staggers to his feet and makes his way into the kitchen, gulping down two glasses of water.  It feels like his thirst will never be quenched.  He grabs a Gatorade from the fridge and resolves to crawl back into bed for the rest of the day.

Two steps into the living room, he gasps and drops the plastic bottle.  Somehow he’d missed the figure sitting completely still on the couch when he’d headed into the kitchen.

“Hello, Kurt.”

“Wes?  What are you doing here?”

Kurt had only met the man twice before, their interactions limited to a handful of words.

“I’m here to ensure your safety.”

He can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves him.  “My safety?”

“Yes.”  The man did not move.  His face betrayed no emotion. 

“And who exactly are you keeping me safe from?”

“Yourself.”

The glare drops from Kurt’s face, replaced with confusion.  “Excuse me?”

“Blaine thinks you might do something stupid.”

“Like hurt myself?  The only person who’s hurt me is your boss.”

“Nevertheless, I’ll be staying for a while.”

“Lovely.  Now I’m a prisoner that needs to be babysat.”

Wes doesn’t respond, instead looking down and tapping at his phone.

“You can tell your boss I’m going to shower now.  I’ll try not to drown myself.”

Kurt picks up the bottle of Gatorade and stalks back to the bedroom.  He shuts himself in the bathroom, but finds that the locked doorknob had been replaced with a plain one.  He lets his forehead fall forward against the door, immediately regretting it when the move reminds him of the pain still there.

He’s exhausted as he steps under the spray.  The water can’t seem to get hot enough.  The washcloth doesn’t scrub hard enough.  His raw skin isn’t clean enough.  He slides down, head resting against the tiles, and cries until the water is cold.

For half a second, he does think about killing himself.  He’d fooled himself into believing that Blaine was a victim of his upbringing; that he had good in him.  Kurt had no idea how wrong he would be.

He shakes the negative thoughts away and pulls himself up and out of the shower.  He throws on some half decent clothes and combs his hair, careful to avoid the stitches on the side.

When he walks into the living room, Wes is in the exact same spot still fiddling with his phone.

“I want to go see my father.”

Wes doesn’t even look up.  “No.”

“Yes.  Now.” 

“Not today.”

“You can’t stop me.”  Kurt starts walking towards the door, Wes not even moving from his spot.

“I will physically restrain you if I have to.  But I’m fairly certain you don’t want me to do that.”

He’s heard Blaine talk about Wes and his physical abilities.  Kurt knows it would be a highly unbalanced match to fight against him.

“Then just take me to my father.  I need to see him.”

“Not like this you don’t.  You’re not in an appropriate emotional state to be venturing out right now.  You can sit,” he gestured to the chair opposite him, “and calm yourself down before Blaine gets home.”

Kurt glares, weighing his options, and then slowly makes his way to the chair.  Wes turns his attention back to his phone and Kurt can do nothing but watch.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what, Kurt?”

“Work for him.  Kill for him.”

“We all have a part to play in this world.”

“You make it sound like no big deal.  Like you don’t ruin lives.”

“You have no idea what we do, Kurt.  The snippets of info you hear mixed with the Hollywood portrayals of people like us – you don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly.”

Wes stands and pockets his phone. 

“You’re just leaving now?  Suicide watch over?”

“You should get some sleep.  Don’t be awake when he gets home.”

“What? Why?”

“Just be careful, Kurt.”

“Be careful of what?”

“If you push him too far, you’ll regret it.”

“What’s he going to do – kill me?”

“No.”  Wes fixes him with a somber look.  “He’ll kill the people you love.”

All of the color drains from Kurt’s face and he can only stare at Wes’ retreating form.  This entire time, Kurt thought the worst thing that Blaine could do was kill him.  The words repeat in his head as he fixes his gaze on a loose thread on the rug.

He meanders back to the bedroom, stripping down to his underwear, and burrowing under the covers.  His body is still exhausted, but this time sleep eludes him.

The front door shuts and Kurt steadies his breathing, lays perfectly still.  He hears Blaine come into the room and then leave shortly after.  Blaine doesn’t come to bed that night.

***

At some point, he’s able to drift into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened by an insistent banging on the front door.  When it’s obvious the person won’t stop, he hobbles out of bed, comforter wrapped tightly around him.

He’s not expecting to see Thad on the other side of the door.

“What’s going on?”

Thad jerks his head to the side.

“I can see my dad?”

He nods and Kurt could not be more thankful. 

A rushed shower and quick change later, Kurt is being driven to the hospital.

He’s trying not to stare, but he can’t help but look at Thad differently.  The other man probably has no idea that Kurt just found out about his … injury.  There is a slight look of resignation on his face and Kurt wonders how many of the people in this ‘family’ are actually happy to be here.

Kurt feels subdued, but he can’t blame it the hangover feeling in his head or the past few days.  He’s emotionally exhausted and walking into his father’s hospital room does nothing to help.

Kurt doesn’t talk to his father this visit.  Instead, he rests his cheek against the large, but familiar palm, and stares at his father’s slack face.

Time passes and it’s blissfully silent save the machines his father is still attached to.  Even they seem calming.  Kurt is grateful because all he wants is to feel the smallest comfort between parent and child.  He wants his father to wake up and ruffle his hair so Kurt can scowl at him appropriately.  He wants his father to chastise him for not taking better care of himself.  He wants him to call him ‘kiddo’ and tell him how much he is loved.

He wants his dad.

When the doctor comes in, Kurt’s anger bursts out before he can even think.

“Why isn’t he waking up?”

“Mr. Hummel, we have every reason to believe that he will.”

“I don’t care what you believe.  I want to know why he is still in a coma after a heart attack.”

“He didn’t just have a heart attack.  He went into cardiac arrest.  And frankly, he’s lucky to be alive especially since this was his second heart attack.”

“Lucky?  He’s laid here for weeks and you’re not doing anything to help him.  I didn’t have him moved here so he could just rot away.”

“I assure you we’re providing the best medical care available.  We run tests—“

“I don’t care about your tests.  I want you to make him better!” 

Kurt didn’t realize he was screaming until two nurses come into the room looking concerned.  He covers his mouth in shock and flees without another word.

***

Time seems to pass frustratingly slow, the minutes taunting him as they tick by.  And with each one, Kurt’s hope dwindles. 

He thinks that he may end up being with Blaine forever. 

He’s gotten better with the mask he wears – the one that hides his feelings.  Though it feels less like a mask and more like the real him.  He doesn’t have any more outbursts, he doesn’t cry.

Blaine is gone for two days, probably purposely avoiding being home, but he always sends someone to watch over Kurt.  The first day it’s Wes again who sits quietly and only speaks when spoken to.  The second day it’s Thad, who obviously stays silent, and seems completely on edge being in the apartment.  Kurt ignores them both.

He declines to go see his father.  He’s smart enough to know that the longer his father is in the coma, the less chance he has of waking up.  His visits feel like goodbye now and it’s getting harder to handle.  Maybe tomorrow.

It feels like he’s giving up, like he’s lost every bit of fight in him.

So he takes the pills left for him, one in the morning and one at night.  He flits between sleep and consciousness – sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference anymore.

His mind never shuts off though.  He can’t stop thinking.

There’s nothing but silence and avoidance and solitude.

And then everything is suddenly clearer.

He has no friends.  His father his only family.  Kurt has nothing but Blaine.  And Blaine will take care of him and care for him.

He is Blaine’s.

The resignation in that thought is strangely freeing.

He pulls himself together, cleans himself up, and resolves to be better.

When he walks into the living room, it’s late.  Blaine is watching a re-run of some cheesy Bravo show that he’ll never actually admit to liking.  As he notices Kurt, he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off.  Kurt’s mind isn’t entirely clear, but it’s the most lucid he’s been in days.  The lingering fuzziness gives him the courage he needs.

“Can we talk?”

Blaine surveys him, taking his time to answer, and Kurt is desperately afraid of being rejected.

“We can talk about anything except that night.”

Kurt feels disappointed, knows that he will have to get Blaine to talk about it eventually.  The air between them is heavy with things left unsaid.  He feels awkward, lonely, and afraid.  Blaine hasn’t touched him since he freaked out – hasn’t even talked to him until now.

Fearing even more rejection, he defaults to the only connection he thinks they have - physical.

He walks slowly to the couch and curls himself against Blaine’s side.

“Thank you for coming home.”

He doesn’t know if Blaine purposely gave him space or if other matters just occupied his time.  Either way, Kurt is grateful and this is the only person he can express that gratitude towards.  This is the only person he has.

Kurt lifts his head and meets Blaine’s ever-guarded eyes.  He leans forward and presses their lips together.   His hand gently guides Blaine’s head to the side and timidly licks at Blaine’s lips.  There is no hesitation as Blaine kisses back.  This is the first time Kurt has initiated anything between them and it feels different.  Kurt runs his fingers through Blaine’s curls, tugging and dominating the kiss.  They have no choice but to eventually pull back, panting together.

Kurt stands and reaches out for Blaine.  This is him succumbing to his fate.

“Come to bed.”

They tumble into bed still kissing and completely naked in record time, no slow build, no teasing.

Blaine pulls away, tosses the lube to Kurt, and leans against the headboard.

“I want to see you get yourself ready.”

Kurt catches his breath and then pulls himself up on his knees.  He coats two fingers and reaches back, eyes still locked on Blaine’s.  His eyes flutter as he pushes them in, twisting and bending to stretch himself.  He adds a third finger and he knows he needs more lube, but he feels a strange sense of urgency.  He needs Blaine.

Kurt starts to turn his body, positioning himself on hands and knees, but Blaine grabs at his leg.

“No.  Come here.”

He scurries up the bed and lets Blaine pull him until he’s straddling his lap.  The light in the room is dim, but Blaine has never looked at him with such want. 

Blaine pours some lube on his hand, quickly slicking himself up.

“I want you to ride me.”

Kurt’s eyes go wide and he gets nervous, eyes skittering over Blaine’s face.  He’s never done it like this before, never been the one in control.

Blaine scoots down the bed slightly leaving Kurt hovering over him.

“Show me how much you want it, baby.”

Kurt can feel how hard Blaine is beneath him.  He also sees how hard his own dick is.

He moves his hips back and forth, feeling the head of Blaine’s cock rub up and down between his cheeks.

It takes a couple minor adjustments before he’s lined up perfectly and slowly inching down, the heat of Blaine’s cock in his hand as he guides it in is unlike anything he’s ever felt.

When he’s bottomed out, completely filled, Kurt rests both hands against Blaine’s chest and just breathes.

Blaine’s grip is hard on his hips and when Kurt opens his eyes, Blaine looks wrecked.

Kurt lifts himself up an inch and then lowers himself again.  He keeps moving more and more until he gets a steady rhythm going.  Blaine’s moans cause Kurt to open his eyes.  He’s never seen Blaine fall apart like this.  The control he has in this moment is intoxicating and he throws his head back as he increases the pace.  The burn in his thighs is getting worse, but he can feel his orgasm building.

Blaine lets out a choked sound and then pulls Kurt down hard as his cock pulses deep within him. Kurt strokes himself twice and then he’s coming hard, clenching around Blaine and eliciting another moan.

He slumps forward for a kiss and Blaine holds him there, cock still buried deep.

“So fucking hot, baby.  You’re so perfect for me.”

Blaine’s babbling and still breathing hard.

Kurt feels taken care of.  He’s tired of fighting the only person he has left.  Sleep takes him, still filled and surrounded by Blaine.

***

He doesn’t get the courage to ask again for another two days.  But things have been good between them.  Kurt feels like he’s found his place and Blaine seems happy.  He doesn’t want to ruin anything, but he can’t let this go.

The door closes and he feels a kiss placed on the top of his head.  When Blaine comes into view, he smiles apprehensively.

“Feeling better?”

Kurt looks up with tired eyes.  “A little.”

He’s still having headaches and trying to deal with them without sleeping all day.  Blaine furrows his brow and disappears for a moment.  When he returns, he crouches beside Kurt and holds his hand out with two pills.

Kurt meets his gaze and shakes his head.

“If you’re hurting, take these pills.”

“No.”

Irritation flashes in Blaine’s eyes.  “Are you refusing to take them to spite me?”

Kurt continues to stare, so afraid to say the wrong thing or start crying.

“I don’t want to sleep.  I want to talk.”

Blaine still looks cross, but he sets the pills and water on the coffee table.  He sits across from Kurt and throws his hands up.  “Then talk.”

“That night…”

Blaine sighs and leans forward.  When he doesn’t say anything, Kurt continues.

“You killed that man.  I just need to know why.”

“Why are we even talking about this?”

“Just tell me.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“Please.”  His voice cracks and he knows the tears are not far off.

“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time touching the wrong person.”

“But didn’t you even hear what we were talking about?”

“No.  I saw him pinning you against the wall, I got out of the car, and I pointed the fucking gun at his head.”

“You can’t just go around killing anyone that gets close to me.”

“I can do whatever I want.”

“Will you kill me if I do something that upsets you?”

“You’re upsetting me now, Kurt!”

“I just--  I’m afraid.  I don’t want to be afraid.”

“Afraid of what?  Me?  You have nothing to be afraid of as long as you do what you’re supposed to do.  You know why that man is dead?  Because you disobeyed me.  You ran…  ran right to him.  And I blew his fucking brains out because of it.”

Kurt covers his gaping mouth, stunned into silence.  He knew it was his fault, but he hadn’t pulled the trigger.  Kurt didn’t want the man to die, but Blaine was right.  If Kurt hadn’t run down that street or stopped at that spot, the man would still be alive.

His body slumps, completely defeated.

“Are you done now?  Got all your questions out?”

Tears fill his vision and his bottom lip quivers.

“I-I can’t get it out of my h-head.”  He buries his face in his hands, words coming out muffled with his sobs. 

Blaine moves and kneels in front of Kurt, pulling him into an embrace.  “It’s okay.”

“I can still f-feel his blood on me and I see h-his face.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Blaine leans him back, forcing Kurt’s hands away where they cover his face.  “It’s okay, baby.  I forgive you.”

Kurt’s face crumples again and he shakes his head back and forth, continuing to cry.  He wasn’t apologizing to Blaine; he was apologizing to the innocent man that died because of him.  But hearing Blaine’s words feels like absolution.

“Just don’t do it again.  We don’t want anyone else to get hurt, right?”

He manages to stop the flow of tears and nods against Blaine’s shoulder.  Kurt remembers what Wes had said and he knows he wouldn’t survive it if something he did resulted in his father’s death.  His father could go in his own time, but not by Blaine’s hand.

Kurt lets himself be held until he feels semi-composed.  He wipes his face with his t-shirt.

“It wasn’t always this easy for me, you know.”

Kurt makes a sound to acknowledge him, but no, he doesn’t know.

“The first time I had to kill someone I thought I was going to throw up.”

Kurt blanches and keeps his head down.

“But people were looking to me.  Looking for leadership and I had to prove that I was that leader.  I never thought at eighteen that I’d be holding a gun to a man’s head, listening to him sob and beg for his life.”

He shrugs like he’s talking about a trip to the grocery store.

“I think I just learned to turn off my conscience that day.  He deserved to die and it didn’t matter that he had a wife and kids.  I put a bullet in his head and then I got back to business.”

It’s quiet for several long minutes after that.  Kurt doesn’t know what to say and Blaine seems lost in his own thoughts.  It’s eerie sitting in the dark room, the sun long set, with nothing but the city lights shining through.

Blaine chuckles beside him and Kurt looks at him baffled.

“Our first big fight.  It was bound to happen eventually.”

Kurt lets out a laugh as well.  But it’s bitter, sad.  Blaine thinks they just had a spat like any normal couple.  No second thought given to a conversation about murder.

He reaches with a trembling hand to the pills on the coffee table.  If he wants to keep some semblance of his sanity, he needs to be numb for a little while longer.

Blaine looks at him fondly.  “Want to go to bed?”

Kurt swallows the pills and nods.

He doesn’t resist when Blaine leads him to the bed, lifts his arms and legs as Blaine undresses him, and lets Blaine kiss him deeply.  Kurt feels the numbness creeping in and he smiles madly.  His limbs feel heavy as Blaine directs them the way he wants.  Kurt barely feels it as Blaine uses his body hard and fast.  There are things whispered in his ear, but it sounds like he’s underwater and he can’t make them out.  He doesn’t care about the mess or the heat now spooned against his back.

He is numb and crazy and broken.

Finally broken.

***