CHAPTER 14

“… and then of course Rachel had to tell Miss Holiday – that’s the substitute teacher we’ve had for History this week – about the test we were supposed to have tomorrow. So I have her to thank for the fact that I’ll be studying tonight instead of having a nice relaxed evening,” Kurt said between mouthfuls of his salad. There was a hum of acknowledgement in the phone pressed to his ear, and a quiet clink of cutlery against a plate indicating that the person at the other end of the line was eating, too. Kurt smiled. “But don’t worry, Blaine, I will still have time to bake cookies with you like I promised.”

“Thank you, Kurt!” Even Blaine’s carefully controlled tone couldn’t hide his excitement. He’d only helped Kurt with baking twice so far, some muffins and banana bread, but it looked like he really enjoyed it.

Kurt grinned around the last forkful. Then his eyes fell on the clock over the door and he sighed.

“Okay, my lunch break is almost over, I have to go. You just finish eating and then do whatever you feel like doing, okay? I’ll be back after four.”

“Yes, Kurt. Thank you.”

Kurt disconnected and gathered the containers from his lunch to throw them in the trash on his way out of the astronomy classroom where he was hiding.

Almost two weeks had passed since that first day Blaine stayed home alone when Kurt went to school. Things had mostly been peaceful since then. Blaine could finally eat what everyone else did and while he was still much too thin, he no longer looked like the exhausted shadow of a boy Kurt had brought home that November afternoon. His cuts and bruises were mostly healed now, and even the swelling in his knees had gone down almost completely. He was doing much better overall, but Kurt still preferred to call home during his lunch breaks to make sure Blaine was okay. They usually ended up eating together on the phone.

Kurt slipped into the cafeteria five minutes before the bell. Most of the Glee club had already finished eating and were now sitting around the table – Finn and Puck gesticulating wildly as they discussed some football strategy, Rachel with her nose buried in a book, with Quinn in her usual spot at her feet. Tina was whispering urgently to Mercedes, her face pale and grim as it often was lately. Santana was still absent, probably lost on the phone with Brittany in some quiet corner. The only times she and Kurt ate lunch with the rest of the Glee club in the last weeks had been those few days when Santana brought Brittany over to Kurt’s house for the day so that the two slaves could keep each other company while their owners were at school.

Not that anyone noticed, really. There was always more than enough drama surrounding the members of their tiny club. People skipping lunch weren’t high on the scale.

The bell announced the end of the lunch break and their whole group gathered their things to move to their respective classrooms. Only three more classes and Glee, and then Kurt would be able to go home. The thought made him smile.

“So, you and Santana?” A familiar voice sounded right behind him. He turned, startled, and found himself confronted with a no-nonsense, curious face of Mercedes.

“What?”

“Is there a little something-something there?” Mercedes wiggled her eyebrows.

Kurt’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? You know I’m gay.”

“Well, you two keep disappearing at the same times and you both come back all smiley and happy. And she’s not half as bitchy with you now as she used to be.” Mercedes put her hand on Kurt’s arm, smiling when he shook his head fervently. “Hey, it’s okay, boo. I know I used to have a crush on you, but I’m not jealous, don’t worry.” She winked and turned away to walk to her next class.

“There’s nothing going on between Santana and me!” Kurt yelled to her retreating back when he finally regained his voice. In the almost emptying hallway it carried like a bell. Several heads turned curiously.

Oh great. Like he didn’t have enough to deal with.

The rest of the day dragged unmercifully, and Kurt sighed with relief when he finally pulled into the driveway in front of his house. He knew what he would find when he went inside: a spotless kitchen with the lunch dishes washed and put away, a cup of hot tea waiting for him on the table and–

“Good afternoon, Kurt!”

His favorite part – Blaine in the hallway, waiting to greet him by the door.

Blaine wasn’t kneeling, just standing in the hallway, and Kurt knew he only came here when he heard the car, but he did this every day without a fault. They had talked about it, he told Blaine time and again that he didn’t expect him to run to the door to meet him every time he came home, or to take his coat to hang it up, but Blaine so clearly enjoyed this part of his day that Kurt couldn’t deny him the pleasure. Especially when he secretly adored it, too.

“Thank you,” he said when Blaine took his scarf and draped it neatly over the hanger. “How was your day?”

“Very good, thank you,” Blaine replied with a smile. “I listened to some music today like you told me I could, and I enjoyed it very much. But–” he hesitated and Kurt frowned, immediately worried.

“What? What happened?”

Blaine looked unsure, his eyes set down and head bowed in an automatic pose of slave submission. “I noticed some dust on your shelves when I was choosing the music to play, and I cleaned it.” When Kurt didn’t say anything, confused, Blaine added quietly. “I know you didn’t tell me to clean your shelves, I apologize.”

Oh.

“You thought I’d be upset with you because you cleaned my stuff?” Kurt asked incredulously.

Blaine glanced up at him. “Some masters don’t like their things touched without permission.”

I’m not a master, Kurt wanted to say, I just want to help you. But he knew by now that it wasn’t what Blaine needed to hear.

“Well, you are allowed to touch all of my things,” he said instead. “That are out in the open,” he added after a beat. There were definitely some notebooks and things deep in his drawers that he didn’t want Blaine to see. Or anyone, really. “And thank you for cleaning my shelves. But you don’t have to do it, you know. I can clean my room myself.”

“I like doing things for you.” Blaine sounded shy, his eyes big and earnest as he looked up at Kurt, and something fluttered in Kurt’s chest, warm and affectionate.

“How about those cookies now?” he asked before he could say something that would make Blaine uncomfortable. “I’ll just go change first. Could you prepare the ingredients? The recipe is on the fridge.”

Blaine nodded eagerly and nearly skipped to the kitchen.

“Did you have time to work with your book today?” Kurt asked as he sifted the flour ten minutes later. Beside him, Blaine was carefully cracking eggs into a small bowl.

“I did, yes. I work with it every day like you told me to.”

“So what are you on right now?” Kurt wasn’t regularly checking his progress, leaving Blaine to work by himself for now. That first book was mostly simple reading exercises and basic math, and Blaine had looked through it and declared he remembered doing similar things with his brother back when he was a child.

“Um, math word problems.”

Something in his tone caught Kurt’s attention and he stopped what he was doing to look at Blaine. “Are you having trouble with them?”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Kurt. I… I was unable to finish the whole chapter today but I will do better tomorrow, I promise. I will work all day and I will finish this chapter and the next one like I’m supposed to.”

Kurt gently laid his hand on Blaine’s arm to stop him from spiraling further into panic. “Hey, it’s okay! You don’t have to do the whole chapter if it’s too much, and no one is going to be angry with you if you don’t understand something. Just tell me if you have a problem with anything and I will help you, okay?”

Blaine nodded, his voice still a little tremulous. “Yes, Kurt. Thank you, Kurt.”

“We’ll look into it after dinner, alright? Now, could you chop some walnuts? I’m in the mood for something more interesting than just chocolate chips today.”

The cookies turned out delicious – just the right combination of crunchy and gooey. It was the first time Blaine had eaten homemade cookies, and the blissful expression on his face made Kurt smile fondly. He was already thinking what delights to introduce Blaine to next.

It was his turn to clean after dinner. Blaine helped him gather the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, but there were still a few pots left to wash by hand.

“Blaine, how about you get your book and I will come help you as soon as I’m done?” he asked as he turned on the water. Blaine nodded and left the kitchen.

“Help him with what?” Finn was still standing by the cookie jar.

“Finn, for god’s sake, take a plate if you’re still eating. There are crumbs everywhere.” Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled and put a hand under the cookie he was munching on. “So what does Blaine need help with?”

“Math,” Kurt said absentmindedly, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a pan.

“Oh. Ugh. I hate math.” Finn grabbed two more cookies and left the kitchen.

The door to Blaine’s room was wide open when Kurt approached it a few minutes later, and Blaine was sitting on his bed. But he wasn’t alone.

“Oh wow, and you’re supposed to read and understand three pages of explanations just to learn how to solve simple word problems? Man, this book totally sucks.” Finn was sitting cross-legged next to Blaine, the book open on the bed between them. “Just ignore these, all you need to do is use your imagination. I mean, you can add, subtract and all that, right?”

Blaine nodded and Finn beamed at him.

“So the rest is easy. Like in this one: imagine that man standing there with his forty apples, and all those kids waiting in line to get a few. And then just–“

The door squeaked as Kurt leaned against the frame and Blaine looked up, startled out of his focus.

“Kurt!” He looked like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

Kurt smiled. “I see that you’re in good hands.” Finn grinned proudly. “Is it okay if you leave you two to it then? I have a history test to study for.”

Both boys nodded. Kurt could hear Finn resuming his explanation before he even reached the stairs.

When he came down to say goodnight a few hours later, Blaine was still sitting on his bed with the book in his lap, alone now. Kurt knocked on the open door.

“Hey, how are the word problems?”

“Oh, I just finished the chapter!” Blaine beamed at him. “Finn explained it all to me and it’s really easy now.”

“I’m proud of you,” Kurt said and the smile it put on Blaine’s face melted his heart a little. “And I’m glad you’re getting on so well with Finn. I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too long, Blaine. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Kurt.”

Kurt couldn’t help the thought that his name sounded different on Blaine’s tongue this time. Not like a title – more like something soft and pretty, spoken with reverence.

It was the last Friday before Christmas and Kurt had plans. He went Christmas shopping with the girls after school – hours spent at the mall looking for the perfect gifts, and then coffee, because really, shopping should be considered a sport for how exhausting it was.

When he finally got home, laden with bags and packages, his family was just sitting down to dinner. Kurt slipped into his seat with a sigh and immediately started discussing Christmas menu and decoration ideas with Carole. He was on a roll today, buzzing with excitement. Christmas had always been his favorite holiday, and ever since Carole and Finn moved in, it regained the festive, family feel that he had missed for years.

Finn and Blaine cleaned up the dishes after dinner while Kurt sat with Carole, making shopping lists and a schedule for food preparation next week. They had the slaves from the garage to take care of, too, so cooking and baking would have to commence early. He was still debating baking the first batch of Christmas cookies tonight when Blaine approached him.

“Hey,” Kurt smiled absentmindedly. “Did you need something?”

Blaine hesitated, then nodded stiffly. “Yes, Kurt. May I go to sleep early tonight?”

Kurt’s eyebrows rose. “Of course you can, you don’t even have to ask if you are tired. Go rest. And I will make the gingerbread cookies in the morning,” he decided. “Would you like to help me?”

“Of course, Kurt.” Blaine smiled weakly.

Kurt watched him as he walked out of the kitchen, a little worried. Blaine had regained a lot of his strength in the last three weeks, but he clearly wasn’t fully restored yet.

“He’s been quiet all afternoon,” Carole said. “I think he missed you.”

Kurt felt a pang of guilt. Yesterday, he’d forgotten to tell Blaine that he would be coming home late, and the boy slept in this morning, so Kurt just left him a note to let him know. And then he ignored him all through dinner when he finally came home. No wonder Blaine felt a little left out.

Of course, Kurt knew he technically didn’t owe Blaine his attention, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible – not just for the slave’s physical well-being, but emotional, too. He just wanted Blaine to feel happy and safe here. He didn’t save his life only to make him miserable.

Oh well, there was nothing he could do now. He would make it up to Blaine tomorrow. It was the weekend and Kurt had a lot of fun plans around the house that he could involve Blaine in. 

Saturday morning rose bright and beautiful, with fresh snow falling slowly outside and the promise of Christmas in the air. Kurt woke up first, in a great mood, so he descended to the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell of pancakes and fresh coffee soon brought everyone to the table. Everyone – except for Blaine.

Kurt frowned at the clock. It was nine already.

“Finn, could you go wake up Blaine? Tell him breakfast is ready.”

It only took a minute for Finn to return – alone and looking concerned.

“I tried, but he wouldn’t wake up. I think he’s sick, he looks all sweaty and he’s breathing funny.”

Kurt was out of the kitchen before Finn even finished speaking.

The door to Blaine’s room was half open. The boy was curled under the covers, only his face sticking out. His dark curls were matted with sweat and his cheeks flushed.

Kurt sat down at the edge of the bed and gently put his hand on the slave’s forehead. His eyes widened. Blaine was burning up, his skin hot and sticky with sweat. Up close, his breathing sounded fast and shallow, terrifyingly labored. Kurt stroked his cheek.

“Blaine. Blaine, honey, wake up,” he said softly. “Please wake up.”

For a few seconds, nothing happened. And then Blaine sat up on the bed with a gasp that rattled nastily in his chest. He froze for a moment, holding his breath with all of his muscles tensed, before letting out a controlled exhale that seemed to catch in his throat. His eyes were fever-bright and scared, his head bowed in submission.

“I’m sorry, Master,” he rasped. “I’m sorry, I’m up now. I’m ready to work. Please don’t hurt me, Master, please, I’m sorry, it will never happen again.” His voice was breaking as he scrambled, trying to get up, and Kurt’s throat clenched at how terrified he sounded. He swallowed the threatening tears and held Blaine’s shoulders firmly, careful not to grip too hard.

“Blaine, no, it’s okay. It’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. Please don’t try to get up. You’re sick. You need to stay in bed.”

Blaine whimpered, still looking dazed. “I’m fine. I can work. I swear, Master. Please don’t punish me.”

“Blaine.” Kurt didn’t know what to do. He took a steadying breath. “Blaine, look at me,” he said firmly. The boy looked at his face for the first time since he woke up and Kurt spoke softly, soothingly. “You’re safe. No one is going to punish you, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re sick. We need to call a doctor or–“

He looked around, helpless.

“Let me try first.” Carole was already in the doorway, a digital thermometer in her hand.

Kurt got up from the bed to make room for her, kneeling on the floor by the bed instead. Blaine seemed calmer now. He was still breathing heavily, but his eyes were focused on Kurt’s face with a relieved intensity. He jumped, startled, when Carole touched his hand.

“Okay, sweetie, open your mouth. I need to check your temperature – I’m just going to put the thermometer under your tongue, okay? It doesn’t hurt.”

Blaine looked anxious but nodded obediently. He closed his mouth around the thermometer when Carole prompted him to. The device beeped thirty seconds later. Kurt didn’t see the display, but the frown on Carole’s face told him it wasn’t good. She spoke softly, with a maternal air.

“You did great, Blaine. Now, can you tell me where you’re hurting?”

Blaine opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and seemed to choke on it. Carole squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, you can just show me.”

Slowly, Blaine raised his free hand to touch his throat, sliding it down to his chest, then up to his forehead. Carole nodded.

“Do you feel like you need to cough?”

Blaine nodded quickly, and Carole looked like she was going to cry for a moment. “Oh, honey. It’s okay. You can. You never have to control it here. Just let it out. No one is going to punish you for being sick, I promise.”

Blaine took a deeper breath and immediately exploded in a violent coughing fit. Once it started, it seemed like it would never stop.

Kurt looked at Carole, confused. He hadn’t heard a single cough from Blaine’s room since – well, probably ever. Carole sighed.

“Some masters don’t like to hear their slaves at all,” she explained. “They don’t want their peace disturbed, and they punish the slaves who aren’t perfectly silent, even when they are sick. It’s cruel and unnatural, but the poor slaves have no choice but to learn to fight their bodies’ most basic reactions. Of course, holding back like this makes the illness last longer, and if often gets more serious as a result, but it’s not like those owners care.” She looked back at Blaine. “I’m guessing Blaine had such a sick bastard as a master at some point.”

Not for the first time, anger rose in Kurt’s throat like a tide at the thought of someone treating this sweet, gentle boy like that. He bit his lip to stop himself from swearing or ranting. This was not the right time.

It took long minutes before Blaine managed to catch his breath.

“Thank you, Madam,” he whispered, when he was able to speak.

Carole smiled. “Alright now, lay down and rest. Kurt and I will go to the kitchen and bring you something to eat and some medication, okay?”

After Blaine’s earlier reaction, Kurt expected protests, but it looked like the coughing left the boy exhausted. He just nodded and slid back down against the pillows. Kurt quietly left the room after Carole.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked as soon as they were out of the room. “Should we call for Dr Holland?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary at the moment.”

“But–” Kurt said incredulously. “He sounds so sick!”

“It’s probably just a cold,” Carole said calmly. “Believe me, if you or Finn had the same symptoms, I wouldn’t call for a doctor either. I’d give you cold medicine and a lot of hot tea, make sure you are hydrated and resting. So that’s what we’ll do for Blaine, too. If he gets any worse, we will ask Dr Holland to check on him, but I think it won’t be necessary. He’s been under such a strain for so long, the poor kid, it’s only natural that his body is decompressing now. It means he’s feeling safe here, he’s finally letting his guard down. I think we can expect some more sicknesses in the coming months as his immune system resets from the survival mode.”

Kurt sighed. “You really think he feels safe here?”

“I really do. You take excellent care of him.” Carole smiled. “Now come on, let’s make some lemon tea. You should put honey on his pancakes, too. It’s a natural antibiotic. Once he eats, we’ll give him some meds to get his fever down. He’ll be fine, Kurt. Don’t worry.”

Kurt couldn’t help but worry though. Blaine only ate a little breakfast and swallowed the pills, looking surprised, but not questioning. His cheeks were still glowing from the fever, but he seemed more lucid now and no longer terrified. He even asked to be allowed to use the bathroom. Kurt helped him get there because it turned out he was wobbly on his legs, and then used the time to quickly change the sweaty sheets on Blaine’s bed. He prepared fresh pajamas for him, too, and turned away discreetly as the boy changed. Finally Blaine was back in bed, his eyes drooping, and Kurt left him to rest, resisting the sudden urge to smooth back his curls. Really, his caregiver instincts were getting out of control.

Saturday was filled with Christmas preparations, but Kurt was distracted, one ear always on Blaine’s room. He’d told the boy to call for him if he needed anything, but apart from the frequent coughing, it was silent there. Whenever Kurt peeked in, Blaine was either asleep or lying awake, lost in thought. Kurt brought him tea and food a few times, and some more medication when Carole declared it was time for the next dose, but they didn’t talk beyond Blaine’s quiet “yes”, “no” or “thank you, Kurt.”

Carole said it was normal and to just give Blaine time. It was probably the first time in years – maybe the first time he remembered – when someone cared for him when he was sick.

Kurt didn’t sleep well that night, still worried about the boy downstairs, so it was no wonder really that the first faint whimper made him shoot up in bed, awake and alert.

For a moment it was quiet, but then the sound returned, longer and raw. Kurt was up in a heartbeat, running quietly down the stairs towards its source. Everyone else seemed sound asleep still.

Moonlight was streaming into Blaine’s room, bright enough to show the boy lying on his side with his wrists crossed as if they were still bound. He looked like he was having a nightmare, his face screwed in fear, but he wasn’t trashing in the sheets. In fact, he looked like he was frozen, paralyzed, his muscles tense and perfectly controlled, his breathing ragged. He whimpered again just as Kurt entered the room, but then his voice rose in panic.

“Please, no, I’ll be good.” The coughing returned as soon as he spoke, but Blaine tamped it down, fighting to control every breath. It made his next words wheeze out, broken and raw with panic. “Not the knife, please Master, please–“

Kurt’s blood ran cold. It took three quick strides to get to the bed and then he was dropping to his knees, touching Blaine’s wrist and urgently whispering his name to call him back from whatever terror he was reliving.

Blaine’s eyes shot open, wide and scared. The relief that washed upon his face when he saw Kurt was immediate.

“Kurt,” he whispered, a rushed exhale, followed by another bout of coughing quickly muffled in the pillow. Kurt squeezed his hand. It was warmer than normal, but not really hot, as was his forehead. Blaine rolled to his back, panting softly, wrists untangling from their bound position.

“Bad dream?” Kurt asked carefully.

Blaine nodded. In the moonlight, Kurt saw a single tear flow from the corner of his eye, shining silvery as it slid down his cheek to the pillow. He wanted to reach out and brush it dry. He wanted to comfort Blaine, make him feel safe, but he had no idea how.

“Are you okay now? Do you need anything?” he whispered instead.

Blaine turned his head to look at him. He was quiet for a while, and then said, very softly. “I have everything I need. Thank you.”

Sunday passed on more holiday preparations. Blaine stayed in bed, obediently taking his medication and trying to eat, even though he clearly didn’t have an appetite. He was still coughing terribly and his fever was rising back between doses of medicine, but he didn’t seem to be getting worse. He even tried to get up and “be useful” in the afternoon, when his temperature was down, but he gave up when Kurt ordered him back to bed. At least he was strong enough to go the bathroom by himself now, so that was probably a good sign, Kurt reasoned, though it didn’t make him stop worrying entirely.

Blaine slept peacefully that night and looked better in the morning, but it was with a heavy heart that Kurt left for school. He dropped by during his lunch break to check on Blaine – only to find him asleep – and then blew off Glee that afternoon, eager to return home. There were only two more days of school, anyway, and it wasn’t as if they had a competition or a performance to prepare for.

Blaine was still in bed when Kurt came home, under strict orders not to leave it today except for bathroom runs and getting food or tea, but he was clearly tired of the bed rest. With nothing to do and no longer sleeping through the day, it must have been really boring to be alone for so many hours. Kurt had an idea.

“Would you like me to read to you?”

Blaine’s eyes sparkled like a child’s. “Oh, yes, please!”

The big book of fairytales that Kurt cherished when he was little seemed like a good choice, and soon he was sitting on the chair by Blaine’s bed, reading to him like his own parents did whenever Kurt was sick in bed as a child. Blaine listened, enchanted.

It turned out Carole was right. On Tuesday Blaine seemed well on his way to recovery. He was still coughing and a little weak, but he stayed awake through most of the day and even worked some with his book while Kurt was at school. In the afternoon Kurt sat him in front of the TV, swaddled in a blanket, and put on Aladdin for him while he busied himself making dinner. He joined Blaine on the couch halfway through the movie and wasn’t sure what was a bigger pleasure – watching one of his favorite Disney movies again or seeing Blaine’s face as he discovered it for the first time.

In the evening, the Hummel-Hudson’s were invited for a little get together at the garage, but Kurt decided to stay home to keep Blaine company.

“Are you sure?” his dad asked as Kurt went to lock the door behind them. “Cooper is going to be there with Sarah, you haven’t seen him in ages. He said they have some good news.”

“No, I’m good. Blaine was by himself all day and he’s still not feeling too well, I don’t want to leave him alone again. Give Cooper a hug from me.”

Kurt’s dad gave him a long, thoughtful look, but left it at that.

When the sound of the car died down in the street, Kurt returned to the living room where Blaine was still being a blanket burrito.

“How about hot chocolate and the next part of the movie?”

The phone rang just as he was putting the steaming cups on the table and Kurt smiled when he saw the caller ID, remembering the blond boy from the doctor’s waiting room.

“Hello, Jeff,” he said as he answered the phone. Blaine looked at him curiously.

“Hi Kurt! How are you? And how’s Blaine?” Jeff sounded polite and a little cautious.

“Good, we’re fine. How are you two?” It felt a little awkward to talk with this boy he only really saw once, but Jeff seemed nice and Kurt remembered Blaine’s joy at meeting his slave, Nick, whom he knew from their time together with one of his previous owners.

“We’re great. So I’ve been thinking – do you think it would be possible for us to meet so that our slaves could spend some time together? Nick has been dying to see Blaine again.”

Kurt smiled. “I think it would be nice.” He looked at the boy sitting by his side. “Blaine, would you like to meet up with Nick sometime soon?”

Blaine beamed and nodded fervently. “Yes, please!”

Kurt laughed at the clear enthusiasm in Blaine’s voice. “Okay, so it’s settled. Blaine has had a little cold and he’s still recovering, but he should be completely fine in a few days. How about you guys visit us here after Christmas?”

“Great.” Jeff sounded chipper. “Send me your address and the date and we’ll be there. Merry Christmas, Kurt!”

“Merry Christmas!”

He disconnected and was just about to put the phone away on the coffee table and grab a remote when Blaine touched his hand. His eyes were wide and earnest.

“Kurt… thank you.”