Oct. 1, 2012, 3:50 a.m.
Never Let Me Go: Chapter 7
M - Words: 5,044 - Last Updated: Oct 01, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 10/? - Created: Jan 27, 2012 - Updated: Oct 01, 2012 248 0 0 0 0
She breathes out slowly, turning back to the auditorium doors, she lightly places her hand on the handle. What do I say to him? He'll be crushed. It'll be his last straw. She turns the handle, ignoring her mind's questions, pushing the door open as she slowly makes her way over to where Blaine's sitting by the piano. The sound of her steps are harsh against the silence of the room, it bouncing off the walls. She almost makes it to the piano, when he looks up at her, tears swimming in his eyes.
"He's not coming is he?" He breathes, lip wobbling slightly.
She shakes her head slowly, walking over to him, about to put her arms around him when he holds his hand up.
"Just….just go….please. I can't deal with this right now, 'cause all I want to do is scream at you for getting my hopes up and tear out my hair for thinking any of this would work, just…..just….go…" He grinds out.
"Blaine, I'm sor-"
"GET OUT!" He screams, his eyes burning as tears gently fall from them.
She rushes out, his voice sending shivers down her spine.
She slams the door open, leaning against the other side of it, trying to catch her breath. A hot tear rolls down her cheek, she catches it before anyone could notice, even though there's no one around.
What am I supposed to do now?
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Kurt edges closer to the corner, peering around it to find Santana almost in tears standing by the auditorium doors. His brow furrows, finding it strange that she's even there. She walks off toward the bathrooms, and Kurt sneaks up to the doors. Carefully opening them, he rushes in, hiding behind the seats. He catches a quick glimpse of Blaine, the sight heart wrenching, he didn't think this had meant that much to him.
He'd made a deal with himself earlier, mainly because he was too terrified that Blaine would leave him heartbroken, so he decided to just hide, it wasn't like Blaine cared about it that much. But he was so wrong, he knows that now, still he can't seem to bring himself to stand up, or to even move.
He can hear Blaine's sobs echo around the auditorium, them being muffled by, what Kurt can only guess as, his hand. Kurt bites his lip, trying to keep his own tears at bay. He believed that he was the only one who even cared about them, but it's now clear how much Blaine really does.
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He didn't show. He didn't really expect him to, but still in the back of his mind he thought he would. He thought that this torment would end and he'd finally have him back, but here he is waiting. He finally mustered up enough courage to talk to him again, but it still wasn't enough, he still wasn't enough. He gently touches the keys of the piano, his lip wobbling as he tries to hold his tears back. He begins playing the song he intended to be for Kurt, hoping the lyrics would have made Kurt believe him, but instead he hasn't even gotten the chance. The notes fill the silence, resonating around the auditorium, his tears on the edge of falling from his eyes once again, he takes a deep breath, preparing to release this terrible knot in his chest.
I've hardly been outside my room in days,
'Cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays.
The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,
And it was then I realised the conscience never fades.
His beautiful voice, reaches Kurt's ears as he hides in the seats, his own tears beginning to fall for the broken boy singing his heart out. He's desperate to rush over and hug him, but he's frozen in his seat, captivated by Blaine's performance.
When you're young you have this image of your life,
That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.
And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,
And if you happen to, you wake completely lost.
He was always told by his father, life was falling in love with a woman, getting married, going to work and having kids. But in truth it was so more messed up than that. His father made him boundaries, boundaries he deemed normal, like being straight, loving girls, never being a disgrace by being gay, and falling in love with boys. He made his own as he grew older, as he began to find out who he was, as he began to fall in love with Kurt. One he never thought he'd cross, he never thought he'd ever break up with him, never thought he would break his heart.
But I will fight for you,
Be sure that I will fight,
Until we're the special two once again.
He would, he'd fight till he was battered and bruised, anything to have Kurt back in his arms. Anything to be loved by him once again.
And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,
'Cause we're the special two!
And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together,
These arms will not be taught to need another's,
'Cause we're the special two.
All Kurt wants to do, is to run over to Blaine and hold him until both their tears subside, but he's too scared. He can't stop thinking he's lying, that this is an act, even though it's breaking his heart. He won't move.
I remember someone old once said to me,
That "lies will lock you up with truth the only key."
But I was comfortable and warm inside my shell,
And couldn't see this place could soon become my hell.
So is it better to tell and hurt or lie to save their face?
Well I guess the answer is, don't do it in the first place.
I know I'm not deserving of your trust from you right now,
But if by chance you change your mind, you know I will not let you down,
'Cause we were the special two, and we'll be again.
He'd lied. Countless times, he'd lied. Mainly because he couldn't bare to loss Kurt, whether it be about his dark past, or his cruel father, he lied to save his heart, and still here he is, living his hell. Having nothing and no one, all because he lied thinking it would save him.
And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
these hands will not be taught to hold another's
'Cause we're the special two.
And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together
These arms will not be taught to need another,
'Cause we're the special two.
He missed Blaine. More than anything. He missed his arms around him, missed his smell, his kiss, his voice, his presence. He missed him.
I step outside my mind's eyes for a minute.
And I look over me like a doctor looking for disease,
Or something that could ease the pain.
But nothing cures the hurt you, you bring on by yourself,
Just remembering, just remembering how we were...
He tried everything to stop the pain, but whatever he did, his mind would always fall back to Kurt. Never forgetting.
When we would only need each other, we'd bleed together
These hands would not be taught to hold another's,
We were the special two.
And we could only see each other we'd bleed together,
These arms would not be taught to need another's,
'Cause we're the special two.
His breath is shaky, his tears now falling hard and fast down his cheeks, his lip trembling. He tries to stifle his sobs, failing as they wrench out of his throat. He slams his hand down onto the top of the piano, causing pain to thrive through his arm. He takes a deep breath, trying to recompose himself, he looks to the empty chairs of the audience, his heart twisting again, still hoping to find Kurt somewhere. He sighs, standing, his cheeks still wet as he walks off stage and out of the auditorium.
He's gone before Kurt has the chance to reveal himself. He bites his lip, tempted to cry out Blaine's name, or rush out after him, instead he falls to the ground, his tears rushing down his cheeks. His sobs escape him, shaking his chest as he tries to breathe. He should've let Blaine talk, he should've stood up and told him everything. He should've never thought he was lying, he should've believed him from the start. He buries his head into his knees, his mind screaming with things he should've done, his entire body screeching at him to get up and run to Blaine, but he's frozen, his heart shaking violently in his chest.
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Kurt rushes down the halls, desperately searching for Santana, he doesn't find her anywhere, his tears still blurring his vision. He pushes the doors harshly, stepping out into the pouring rain, not caring about his clothes. He stumbles through the parking lot, the rain piercing his face. He scours the cars, his eyes finally settling on Santana's. Jogging over to her passenger window, he bangs his hand harshly on the glass, and instructs her to open the door. She pushes it open, clearly confused as Kurt jumps into the passenger seat. She stares at him stunned as he tries to catch his breath and warm up.
"I'm…I'm sorry.. I didn't….s-show.." He stutters, the cold leaving him breathless.
"But the thing is, I did, I just made sure Blaine couldn't see me. I couldn't go through with it, I was too scared of him just breaking my heart all over again, and even then he did, even if he didn't mean to. I just, I want to make this right, I want to see him so we can actually talk! And the only person I can think of to help me is you."
Santana's eyes are wide once Kurt stops for breath after his desperate plea, and turns to her. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, her mind still trying to fully understand all he's said.
"So.." she finally manages. "What do you need from me?"
Kurt smiles, relieved that she's willing to help him.
"Well, I wanna talk to him, but I wouldn't have a clue as to where to find him."
Santana breaks into a smile, her eyes lighting up. She grabs a piece of paper and a pen, writing speedily. Kurt waits patiently, a little wary to her smile. She hands him the piece of paper, her smile now beaming.
"Go here. He stays here on weekends," her face changes, now seeming serious, "but he might not be all that happy to see you, and he might even scream at you. Just know that he doesn't really mean it, and if you're quiet and tentative with your words and stuff, you might get through to him. God knows I've tried." She sighs, her eyes falling from his.
Kurt gently takes the paper from her smiling slightly. He pulls her in for a hug, shocking himself and her.
"Thank you.." He whispers, her arms tightening around him. They pull apart both of them smiling with tears swimming in their eyes. Kurt gives Santana a small wave before stepping back out into the rain.
He walks briskly over to his own vehicle, clutching the piece of paper to his chest. He fumbles with his keys, the cold making his fingers numb. Finally unlocking the car, he almost dives into the seat, placing his stuff by him, he slams the door. He breathes out slowly, his eyes completely focused on the piece of paper. He's scared to open it, scared to know where Blaine is, because…..well because of what Santana had said. Blaine would be furious with him, heartbroken just as Kurt was. He never really saw Blaine as having a temper, not until his dispute with Sam in the choir room, but even then it was only a small outburst. But every now and again, they'd fight, or someone on the street would mock them, and there would be this immediate fire that started to burn in Blaine's eyes. An anger Kurt never liked seeing, an anger that actually, if he was honest, frightened him. But still he couldn't shake the thought, that maybe, just maybe, it'll all work out. That Blaine would forgive him, and that they'd finally be able to get back together, so Kurt wouldn't have this burning hole in his heart.
He gingerly opens the folded paper. I've got nothing to lose if I go. Even if my heart will break for the 2nd time today. He looks to the address, already about to start his car. He throws the paper in his bag, speeding out of the parking lot, the only thought in his mind, Blaine.
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He fumbles with the hotel keys, his tears still blurring his vision. He shoves the door open, hauling his bags in with him. He dumps them by the door slamming it with his foot. He pulls off his heavy coat and the rest of his layers. Almost ripping his shirt, he pulls it off himself, leaving him half clothed. He doesn't bother turning the light on, just throws himself onto the bed, his body aching and his eyes sore. A loud grumble fills the room as his stomach complains, causing him to groan. Sitting up slowly, he turns on the bedside lamp, spotting a pizza menu. He flicks through the take away menu, the prices aren't too bad, but the taste of the pizza is sure to be horrid. None the less, he grabs his phone out of his messenger bag, dialling the number.
Some teenager answers, clearly uninterested as he takes Blaine's order. Blaine hangs up, beginning to search through his bags for money. He places the mixture of change and notes on the small table by the door. Grabbing his tank top, he pulls it over his head, the movement still paining his ribs. He takes his ice bucket as he opens the door, the cold air hitting him hard, sending more pain through his chest. He's lucky his room's close to the ice dispenser, it means his mind doesn't wander, well at least not for too long.
Still, he can't stop his mind from falling onto Kurt. How could he believe for one second that he would come? He wasn't good enough, he never was good enough for Kurt, and he never will be. He grits his teeth trying not to scream or throw something, but his brain just won't shut up. He slams his hand down onto the ice dispenser, a loud bang resonating around him.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do without him?
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Kurt pulls into the hotel parking lot his hands shaking. He turns the car off, his knuckles becoming white from his grip on the steering wheel. He breathes out slowly, his failed attempt at trying to keep his nerves steady. He moves his eyes from the steering wheel to a hotel door. Blaine's hotel door according to the piece of paper in his hand. He stares at it for what feels like hours, hardly ever blinking and never looking away. He's there for another 30 minutes his gaze never faltering, and he waits. He wants to go up to the door and talk to Blaine, but he's terrified. So, instead, he sits, and waits, hoping he either gains the courage to walk up to that door, or that his love walks out of it and goes to him.
The door swings open, a clearly irritated and exhausted Blaine appearing. He trudges out the door, ice bucket in hand, Kurt gasps, covering his mouth to stop his whimper once his eyes catch sight of Blaine's bare skin. Even though it's been weeks, Blaine's bruises are still very visible. The dark viciously purple skin that meets Kurt's eyes, brings a painful twist to his heart, he can see the terrible bruises running up and down his back and chest, the majority of the damaged skin concealed by a tank top. He desperately wants to run to Blaine, hold him, kiss him, tend to his wounds, anything and everything that shows his love for him.
Blaine tumbles back into his hotel room, Kurt on the edge of tears. He's stunned, again, he can't think, at least nothing about anything other than Blaine. He breathes out slowly, his lip wobbling as his tears fall.
Oh God, Blaine! What has he done to you?!
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Blaine finishes the last of his pizza, throwing the box to the ground as he wipes the grease onto his pants. He pulls off his shoes and throws them by his bag. Pulling off the rest of his clothes, he grabs his pyjama pants, dragging them up his bare legs. He walks over to the door opening it to see if Kurt is there, a routine he's seems to be keeping up ever since he dreamt of him waiting there with open arms.
Tonight he finds no one, like always, so he closes the door, locking it and turning off the lights. Crawling under the covers, he buries his nose into the soft pillows, just as he begins to close his eyes, he sees Kurt's shirt, tucked away in one of his bags. And it breaks. The wall he's had up since the auditorium, crumbles. His heart twists painfully, tears cascading down his cheeks.
How could I believe Santana?! How could I even think that Kurt would still love me?! How could I think anyone would love me?!
He bites down hard on his lip, trying to stifle his sobs. He fails miserably as they shake through his chest violently. He wasn't good enough, he's never been good enough and he never will be. His father's words echo through his mind, 'no fag can love! And no one could love an abominable faggot like you!' He was right, he'd always been right, he didn't deserve someone as amazing as Kurt, and no one as amazing as Kurt deserved such a burden as himself. He desperately clings to his pillow, burying his face deeply into it as his sobs continue to course through his chest. And even though the thought of him pains him let alone the smell of him, he throws his covers off and wrenches the shirt from his bag. Pulling it tightly to his chest, he lets the last bit of Kurt Hummel he has engulf him, all their moments in his memory replaying over and over in his mind.
He falls to his knees, the pain completely taking him, he rocks as his heart wrenching sobs escape him. He sits like that for what seems like an eternity, when in truth, it's only a few hours. He's tears eventually subside, and soon only the sounds of his sniffling fills the room. He pulls his eyes from the floor, his gaze landing on his phone. He desperately wants to call someone, he doesn't want to be alone, not tonight, not again. But who does he call?
Santana's probably furious with him for screaming at her, and Puck is the last person he'd call for comfort. He slowly stands up, Kurt's shirt still in his tight grasp, he throws the shirt onto the double bed, missing it's warmth and smell instantly. He sighs, his breath shaky as he snatches his phone off the small table, he flicks through the contacts, finally finding the one he's looking for. He breathes out slowly once again, a sudden wave of tears and pain beginning to hit him. He places the phone to his ear, waiting patiently for the other line to answer, nibbling on his lip as he tries not to succumb to the horrible pain churning in his stomach.
"Hello?" A cautious, yet clearly tired voice answers. Blaine breathes out shakily, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.
"Santana…" He squeaks, "please…I need you..I …. I can't do this on my own….I need you!" His voice wavers, eventually breaking as his tears beat him and fall down his cheeks.
A teary, "okay", is the only response he receives before she hangs up. He places the phone back on the table, sinking onto the bed, waiting for her. Praying she comes before his loneliness and heartache consumes him.
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A small knock makes Blaine jump, his heart rate instantly speeding.
He's found me! He bullied Mom into telling him! He's…He's found me! His mind screams.
He stands up slowly, cautiously making his way to the door, terrified that the visitor is the man that haunts his nightmares. He carefully opens the door praying anyone, but his father stands there. He's met with a wide eyed Santana, who's coat is soaking wet. He steps aside, waving her in numbly. She rushes in, switching the light on to pull them out of the dark. He stands in front of her stiffly, his eyes following her hand as she closes the door. She tentatively steps closer to him, placing her hand gently on his cold wet cheek. A quick intake of breath is the final barrier before Blaine basically throws himself into her arms, burying his nose deep into the crook of her neck, his tears flowing violently down his cheeks once again.
She wraps her arms around him, tightly, trying to soothe him without breaking down herself. She strokes his curly hair, her own tears breaking through and falling. He gently pulls away form her, his lip trembling as he tries to speak.
"I'm…. I'm so sorry," he stutters. Santana leans in, kissing his cheek. Looking into his eyes, a watery smile appears on her face, making him too return the small gesture.
They let each other go, stepping back slightly, an awkward silence settling between them, Blaine feeling so much weaker without her holding him. This is the closest they've ever been, mainly because Blaine's been so terrified to let her in, to let anyone in.
"So…..did you call so we could talk or…what?" Santana murmurs, her concern clear in her voice.
Blaine drops his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor, an unusual habit he's seemed to develop over the years now. He wrings his hands, and bites his lip, these small quirks all products of his long lasting insecurities. To Santana, well she had never seen anyone look as small and broken as he did now.
"Actually…. I was wondering…it's just….it's kind of lonely at night…..and….. would you….stay… tonight? Please." He mumbles, his knuckles white as he continues to squeeze his hands.
"Of course I will. As long as you're alright with sleeping with a chick." Blaine smiles, laughing lightly with her.
His eyes fall to the floor once again, looking over to the double bed. Dragging his feet, he walks over to a side of the bed, sliding under the covers and sitting up, fiddling with a loose thread of the duvet. Santana drops her bag next to his, noticing
some of the pictures of what she can only assume as being his sister and him. She takes off her almost dripping coat, revealing her to still be in her pyjamas. Slowly walking over to her side of the bed, she switches the lights off. She crawls into the bed, laying so she is facing Blaine. He slides down the headboard until his head hits the pillow, turning to face her as well. She reaches her hand out to cup Blaine's cheek, gently stroking the damp skin, a smile gracing her lips.
"You know what?" Blaine breathes, looking right into her eyes. "Ever since I slept beside Kurt, I hate sleeping alone."
"Me too!" Santana laughs, "ever since I just slept with Brittany, it's like there's always something missing, well someone."
He smiles tightly, moving his left hand between them. She tentatively grapes it, both of them moving closer to each other.
"Santana…. I know you're helping me because…. you care about Kurt, but-"
"No. I care about you because no one deserves what you've gotten. And because if it happened to me, if the whole world seemed to be against me, I'd want someone on my side." There's a quick flash of a smile that appears on Blaine's face before he continues speaking.
"Thank you, but what I was going to say is, if you need anything, I'd be happy to help." A full bright smile appears on his face, causing Santana to smile just as brightly before. They both begin to fall asleep, their hands still tightly clasping each other.
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Santana slowly wakes to find an awkwardly smiling Blaine staring back at her, topless.
"So I don't know about you, but I've never done that before, at least not with a woman.." He chuckles shyly. She grabs the pillow behind him and smashes it into his face, him now laughing hysterically.
"You're so weird." She states as he removes the pillow from his face. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a side hug, which only receives an irritated look from her. She pushes him away, Blaine still pulling her close.
"Get off me! People will talk!" He only laughs in response.
"And if you don't get off me you'll be late for your appointment!" He groans, letting her go.�
"It's not 'til 7 tonight. I don't wanna go!" He whines, beginning to pout.
"You have to! Your mother will kill us both if you don't show up." His pout deepens as he groans once again in response.
He looks to her, all humour gone from his face, his eyes tired and sad.
"Do you think... maybe... Kurt will.... I dunno..." He bites his lip, gripping the covers tightly.
Santana smiles, tempted to tell him about her conversation with Kurt.
"Do you think he'll....maybe want to see me or even want to... maybe.. be with me again?" He looks back to her, seeming so scared.
"Yes. I'm sure of it." He smiles lightly, clearly not fully believing her. "In fact, I think things are going to get a lot better." She states, a bright smile on her face. She puts her arm around his shoulders and pulls him close to her, making him laugh, and smile full heartedly for once.
"So are we going to get some breakfast?" Santana asks.
Blaine opens his mouth to answer, but is cut off by a loud knock on the hotel door. They both turn to the sound puzzled. Blaine throws the blanket off of him, and slowly stands up, his ribs once again screaming in pain. He unlocks the door and pulls it open, not even bothering with a t-shirt.
He's met with an irritated Claire, holding bags of food. Her irritation soon turning into confusion when her eyes fall onto Santana lying in Blaine's bed.
"Why is there a girl in your bed? What are you Bi now?" She quips, her eyes wide and accusing.
"No! This is Santana. She's been helping me out with the whole being disowned by my father. She stayed last night." He mutters, death-glaring Claire once again.
"And she's...you and her are..-?"
"She has a girlfriend! I told you, I'm in love with Kurt!" He looks to her sternly, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
"Well, your Mom told me you two broke up. Now are you going to let me in, or am I just going to freeze out here?" He waves her in, a smug look emerging on her face.
"Why are you here exactly, Claire?" He closes the door, and pulls a hoody over his head.
"I'm making sure you're okay, since your Mom's working. That and to make sure you go to your appointment today!"
"It's not until 7!" He whines, sitting on the bed next to Santana, who is unbelievably confused.
"I know! But knowing you, you're bound to miss it. Plus I've brought food!" Her face brightens with a beaming smile as she pulls her hand up to reveal a bag of food.
Blaine jumps from the bed and snatches the bag off of her, riffling through its contents.
"Someone's hungry.." Claire murmurs, her eyebrows raised.
"Wait! What did you eat yesterday, Blaine?" Santana asks, noticing his thin frame and obvious desperation for the bag.
"Mhmnhmn...." He mumbles, his mouth full of potato chips.
"Sorry. We don't speak pig!" Claire remarks, throwing a pillow at him.
"I didn't really eat anything..." He whispers, and drops his head, knowing he's in for a serious scolding from Santana.
"Get over here! Now! Come here!" She shouts.�
He slowly walks over to the bed, sitting cautiously by her. She breathes out slowly, her face softening and a small smile appears. She then precedes to slap him and beat him with the pillows, yelling at him for not eating.
"Okay! Okay! That's enough! I get it!" He rips the pillow from her hands and tries to keep her hands still.
"I like her!" Claire laughs, smiling smugly.
Blaine only looks to Claire with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.
"Do you need to be here anymore?" He asks, a handful or chips about to be shoved into his mouth.
"Rude! And just for that comment, I'm going to stay for a while!" She lays down on the bed, stealing his chips.�
Santana laughs at her actions and joins her for their unhealthy breakfast. Blaine sighs, searching through the bag for milk and cereal. He gently pours himself a bowl from the bag. Pulling out a spoon, he moves the girls and sits by Santana messily eating his meal, an irritated pout on his face. Santana smiles up at him, which only receives a confused look from Blaine. She grabs herself a spoon, and then precedes to steal some of his cereal. He tries to pull away, but gives up and lets her have some, his stubborn pout still in place.
"You're adorable!" She laughs, quickly kissing him on the cheek before settling her head on his shoulder and switching the small T.V. on.
Blaine smiles to himself, his irritation and worry dissipating as he kisses her forehead. Maybe... just maybe, this is what he's been missing out on for all those weeks he'd been pushing Santana away. Something he never thought he'd get again after losing his family, home, and heart. Love.