Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Theres so much to be scared of and not much to make sense of
How did the clowns ever get control? If youre here, can you let me know
How can they invade it, when its so complicated?
Oh, you just want to get it right sometimes
You just want to get it right sometimes

Midtown New York was beautiful in the afternoon. The usual bustle of people had calmed from morning rush hour into a dull stream of middle-aged mothers and suited business men striding hastily toward a twenty minute lunch break. For the first time in what felt like forever, the sun was shining proudly through a mist of dispersing snow clouds and shedding a soft warmth over the pedestrians below.

After spending the night and the better part of the morning together, Blaine had suggested a late lunch at a quiet restaurant where they could continue to bask in the post-sex glow of each others company. With a plate of low fat pasta in hand, Kurt took a seat across from Blaine in the deserted top deck of Vapianos.

            Kurt was feeling good. No, Kurt was feeling great. He was back together with his one true love and theyd just spent the night intertwined beneath the satin sheets of Blaines bed. All of his problems with Rachel, Aaron and Cecil had been pushed to the back of his mind and buried further with every sweet kiss.

            "Last night was amazing," Blaine remarked around his bite of salad, glancing up at Kurt through his dark lashes.

            Kurt smirked, toying with a particularly difficult noodle. "It was incredible and all because of you."

            Blaines cheeks flushed scarlet. "No, you," he protested.

            Kurt bit back a grin as he tipped his wine glass back and downed the sparkling liquid. Being with Blaine was immensely different than itd been with Aaron. In a way, theyd already known what to do and how to do it. Blaines body was a map that Kurt had memorized long ago. Little had changed physically since theyd last been intimate, but mentally Blaine was a whole other person. And Kurt was pretty sure he loved Blaine now more than ever.

            He reached across the table, prying Blaines fingers from his fork and squeezing them. "I love you."

            Blaines bright-eyed smile was priceless. "I love you, too," he replied. "I love you so much. And I would stay here and tell you how much I love you forever, but nature calls."

            Kurt snorted, waving Blaine off when he stopped at the bottom of the stairs to throw Kurt a pair of well practiced puppy eyes.

            The restaurant was fairly empty around one oclock in the afternoon, save for the waitresses and cooks who gossiped quietly over countertops. The pulse of charming orchestra music tinkled through the speakers that hung from each corner, blending with the squelch and hiss of oil in a frying pan. It was all soothing, only adding to Kurts acclimating spirits. The loud wail of the bell above the entrance sliced through the air like a deadly razor and he knew instantly that something was wrong.

            His first instinct was to check his phone and make sure everything with Rachel was okay. As he turned to reach into his pocket, his gaze fell to the front of the diner. And his blood went ice cold.

            Broad shoulders, a tall frame, mahogany hair, delicately tanned skin, electric blue eyes and pale lips pressed into a thin line. Cecil Roger. Kurt couldnt breathe. He couldnt think. He couldnt move. The deafening pound of his rapidly beating heart echoed in his ears. He gripped the table with white knuckles, struggling to inhale as his vision blurred. This couldnt be happening. Not here, not now.

            Kurt released a strangled sob, and Cecils neck snapped up to where he was. His skin blanched and his hands tightened into fists at his sides. Kurt was shaking so hard he was positive he was going to pass out. Please, god, no. Please, please, please, no.

            Cecil ignored the barista who was attempting to show him to his seat and strode purposefully towards the balcony stairs. The legs of the chair shrieked across the wood floor as Kurt moved backward in a panic. He was going to hurt him again-he was coming to finish what hed started and-oh, please, god, no.

            Kurt could hear the thump of Cecils polished shoes against each stair, inching closer and closer. He covered his head with his hands, begging himself to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

            "Kurt, was it?" That was the voice that had plagued his dreams, shaken him awake in the shallows of the night. Kurt was going to puke. Cecil pulled out Blaines chair and plopped down into it, leaning forward and towering over Kurts trembling body. "Long time, no see."

            Instinctively, Kurts fingers fumbled over the outline of his phone. He summoned all of his inner strength, and met Cecils hardened glare. "What do you want?" he spat between clenched teeth. Blaine had to be coming back soon. Please, Blaine, I need you.

            Cecils stare flickered down to Kurts pocket. "I see your phone is working fine." The tone of his voice was infuriatingly casual. Although Kurt was facing his worst enemy, the man whod caused an uncountable number of panic attacks and night terrors; whod made him terrified to walk the streets, he felt anger more than any other suppressed emotion.

            Cecil couldnt hurt him here, not with the waitresses downstairs and Blaine only a couple floors away. He gathered up all of his pent up fury and distress and channeled it. "What does that have to do with anything?"

            Cecil grabbed Kurts wine and swallowed the rest of it in one gulp. Swiping Blaines napkin across his lips-the lips that had left heated, unwanted kisses against his neck and emitted hot, sour breaths against his temple-Cecil shook his head. "Dont play stupid, Kurt. Obviously you got my text. Im just making sure youre going to keep to it."

            Kurts mouth tasted like dry cotton. "I-I dont know what youre talking about," he snarled. He was playing a vicious game, messing with Kurts mind and lowering him further from what had once been his high pedestal.

            Cecil stood up. "Fine. Ill play along. But you better watch your back." With that, he turned on his heel and walked straight down and out of the door.

            Kurt slumped, completely drained. He scrubbed the heel of his palm into his eyes, biting his lip to keep from crying. You better watch your back. What had he done? What did he do wrong? What did he do to deserve this? Hed never gotten any texts from Cecil.  

            "Hey-whats wrong?" He didnt need to look up to know Blaine was kneeling beside him. Kurt jerked away from Blaines arm, nearly falling onto the ground. "Kurt, honey, please. What happened? Whats wrong?"

            Gradually, Kurt accepted the strong grip that drew him to Blaines chest. "Sweetheart, youre trembling. Whatever it was, its over. Im here now."

            They sat like that for a minute, Kurt struggling to time his labored breaths to the steady pump of Blaines heart. Cecils words just kept replaying over and over in his exhausted mind. Somewhere, deep down, Kurt had known that Cecil would find him and finish what hed begun not so long ago. Itd been the worst experience of his life, pinned beneath a massive weight and unable to do anything but take the frantic fumbles and grotesque pressure.

            "He found me," Kurt croaked. Even saying the words out loud made his stomach drop like a stone.

            "Who found you?"

            Kurt shook his head. No, he couldnt say it. It hurt too much. His head was pounding, his heart racing and his body only shaking more with each passing second. You better watch your back.

            "Kurt, youre scaring me. Please tell me what happened. Who hurt you?" Blaine asked urgently.

            Blaines polo was damp with Kurts tears, cool against his cheek. Kurt felt like name bubble up in the back of his throat like bile. "Cecil."

            Despite Blaines attempts at cheering him up, Kurt insisted on taking a cab home. "I need to be by myself for a while," hed told Blaine, staring hard down at the gum-splattered pavement. "Ill be okay."

            Blaine didnt appear convinced, but he gave Kurt a determined, loving kiss before stepping out into the street to hail a taxi for his boyfriend. Kurt could feel himself sinking lower and lower into the depths hed just managed to climb himself out of. Hed been incredibly stupid to think everything would remain perfect forever.

            Kurt found Santana draped across his couch, feet in the air while she balanced a bottle of champagne and one of Kurts Vogue magazines on her chest when he pushed into his apartment. Kurt kicked the door closed with venom, stomping straight over to Santana, arms crossed and practically fuming. "What. The fuck. Are you doing in my apartment?" he snarled. He was beyond ready to crash into bed and cry his eyes out; to drown himself in the inevitable pain that Cecil continued to be the source of, and Santana was only elevating his anger.

            Santana looked up at him, clearly unaffected by his words. "Oh, hey, Kurt. I broke into your alcohol cabinet, I hope you dont mind. Berrys driving me batshit."

            Kurt pointed towards the door. "Get the fuck out."

            She sat up with a sigh, sucking down another swig of Kurts champagne. "Whats got your testes in a twist, huh? Blaines hobbit dick didnt hit the spot? Or did he get some of his rainbow glitter cum on your tutu?"

            Kurt dragged his fingers through his hair, willing himself not to explode and tackle Santana to the floor. "Please, Santana. Please, for once in your goddamn life, just leave me alone," he said wearily.

            Santana frowned and patted the empty cushion beside her. "Come and sit down, twinkle toes, and tell mama Santana all about your problems." When Kurt didnt move, she held up the bottle in peace offering gesture and cocked her eyebrows at him.

            Kurt gave in, snatching the champagne from her grasp and collapsing down onto his weathered sofa. They sat in silence, Kurt taking small sips and savoring the sweet burn. He wanted to tell Santana; needed to confide in someone other than Blaine. He picked distractedly at a loose thread in one of his treasured throw pillows.

            "Remember that night at the club," he whispered. Santana nodded. "I...I didnt tell you about everything that h-happened." He tipped his head back, blinking hard against the flood of tears that threatened to fall. "I met this guy and he seemed charming at first."

            "Dont they all," Santana scoffed.

            His stomach churned sickeningly. "He d-d-drugged me," he choked out. "And he tried to...he tried to rape me."

            For a second, Kurt wasnt sure that Santana had even heard what she said. But then his bottle of champagne was wrenched out of his hand and thrown across the room where it shattered in a waterfall of sparkling glass against the far wall. "What the hell?" Kurt cried.

            Santana was up and pacing back and forth, her features livid with rage. "Why didnt you tell anyone? Why the fuck didnt you call the fucking police? Why did you wait this long? Oh, my fucking god, Kurt!" she shouted.

            Kurt flinched. Out of all of Santanas probable reactions, this had been the one hed anticipated the least. "I couldnt. I couldnt say anything. Hed kill me."

            "No, I wouldnt let that happen. Id never let that happen. He has to pay for what he did, Kurt. Sexual assault is a motherfucking crime and you cant just let him get away with it!" Santana gripped his hands, peering up at him darkly. "Well go to the police station together. We can file a report and get him locked up."

            Kurt shook his head. "I cant do that. Someday he would get out and track me down and finish what he started-"

            "Then what the fuck else are you supposed to do? You cant just let this dickhead force you to live your life in fear. Besides, how do you know that hell remember you?"

            He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I saw him. Today. When I was at lunch with Blaine."

            Santana stood back up and began banging cupboards in the kitchen. "Goddammit, Kurt, you weak ass bitch. Why couldnt you have held onto the champagne? All you have left are these stupid strawberry wine coolers. Fuck, can you get any gayer?"

            Kurt had never seen Santana act so mad, and that was really saying something. She wasnt just mad, she was ready to hunt down Cecil and make a sandwich with his penis. Defeated, she returned to the couch and drew her knees to her abdomen. "Im sorry that happened to you," she said after several uncomfortable minutes of impending silence.

            "I cant do anything to change it."

            "But you can move forward. You dont have to let this stupid incident drown you, Kurt," Santana replied meekly. "Im here for you. Rachel, Blaine, your dad-were only here to help. You dont have to go through this alone."

            Kurt couldnt help the tears that slipped down his cheeks. "Thank you. That-that means a lot."  

            "You bet your fairy ass that Ill go all Lima Heights on that fuckers nuts," she exclaimed. "Dont doubt my power. These boobs can crush a skull in under a minute flat."

            Kurt laughed, pulling a reluctant Santana in for a hug. He kissed her temple happily. "I love you."

            "I love you, too, doughface. I love you, too."