2 months and 10 days ago

      “Blaine!” Rachel called out to her twin from across the cafeteria. She waved her arm above her head trying to make sure she had his attention.

      Blaine had his back turned to his sister and was talking to a guy on the swim team when he heard her irritating calls. His back stiffened at the sound and he casually ended his conversation before walking out of the lunchroom, not even looking back at his sister. He thought he saw a flash of familiar brown hair and he made a wide arch, ending up behind the doorway to the cafeteria.

      Rachel let out a sigh of exasperation and dropped down into her seat, her shoulders slouching.

      “I’m not that bad of a sister am I?” Rachel asked her boyfriend, Finn, who was sitting beside her.

      “Now what would lead you to that conclusion?” the fiery Latina across the table asked condescendingly.

      Frowning Rachel turned to Finn for reassurance, wrapping them up in their own little world of whispered words.

      The Latina rolled her eyes at the pair and turned to the blond sitting beside her before starting a conversation.

      On the outskirts of the cafeteria Kurt stood, just peeking into the wide room. He could spot Rachel a mile away and was just debating if it was worth the risk of being spotted to get food when someone spoke behind him.

      “I know how you feel,” Blaine said dryly making Kurt jump and swivel around.

      Kurt’s hand flew to his chest where he could feel it beating erratically. His eyes were widened until he caught sight of who it was and he relaxed a little, but his guard was up in a second.

      “I told you to leave me alone,” Kurt said with narrowing eyes.

      “In case you hadn’t noticed I don’t listen to rules very well,” Blaine said with a shrug. He was leaning against the wall with the collar of his leather jacket popped up, the picture-perfect bad boy image.

      “Listen, I won’t touch you or come near you when I smell like smoke if it makes you feel better, okay?” Blaine asked with a shrug. “I’m pretty mean, but you have some serious issues that I don’t want to… provoke.”

      Kurt frowned then and shifted his gaze to the wall for something to distract him with. He hated the way his eyes stung and he had to fight back tears.

      “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Blaine asked when he noticed the sudden change. He had to remind himself not to take a step closer to Kurt, remembering how frightened Kurt had been of him earlier.

      Shaking his head Kurt stormed away for the second time that day.

      Blaine’s fists clenched together and he shoved himself off the wall before making his way to an abandoned classroom, making sure to find something to deface or destroy, but for once he didn’t find even a glimpse of entertainment in his work. No matter how hard he tried.

***

      “Kurt!” Burt yelled from the truck to get his attention. He honked the horn a couple times for good measure.

      Snapping out of his thoughts Kurt hurriedly made his way toward his dads truck. He hopped in quickly, snapping the door shut behind him and buckling in.

      “How’d it go?” Burt asked as he shifted the truck into gear and started on the way home.

      Kurt suddenly felt insecure about sharing. He didn’t want people to know something was wrong with him. He’d bitched and whined to his dad for a full week before his dad had managed to convince him to come to the sessions.

      “It was… okay,” Kurt said shyly, not meeting his father’s gaze. He forced himself to look out the window instead. Ohio was nothing like his old home in Maryland. The people were different, the houses were different. Everything was different. Kurt hated it and loved it all at the same time.

      “What’s that in your hand?” Burt asked as he glanced at the piece of paper clutched tight in Kurt’s fist.

      Kurt looked down surprised to see the paper there having forgotten all about it.

      “Oh. It’s a note Hen— Dr. Dalton made for my doctor about a prescription he thought might help with my… anxiety,” Kurt said. He stretched his hand out slowly, giving Burt the small piece of paper.

      Burt’s mouth settled into a thin line as he read over the words. “I thought you said you were doing okay,” Burt said trying to keep the tension out of his voice, but his temper was short those days.

      Kurt suddenly felt very small and very much in trouble.

      “I am doing—“ Kurt didn’t get the chance to say anything more when Burt’s fist suddenly came down on the steering wheel hard in frustration making him jump.

      “Dammit, Kurt!” Burt growled.

      Kurt wasn’t ever scared of his dad and he decided he never wanted to be again. His father almost never got mad at him, at least not like this.

      “I asked you to do one thing for me throughout all of this!” Burt exclaimed, his temper and emotions flaring up.

      “I asked you to stay honest with me! How can I trust you after this if I have to find out you’re having attacks during school from your therapist!” Burt asked his voice rising to it’s loudest before he took a few deep breaths.

      Kurt’s eyes were trained on the small crack in the trucks windshield, but he wasn’t seeing it. The familiar burning behind his eyes and ashamed feeling washed through him quickly. His shoulders curled, trying to protect himself from the onslaught of emotions.

      “I—“ Kurt tried to speak, but his voice was dry. He swallowed before starting again, “I-I’m sorry,” Kurt said quietly, his voice as small as his self-esteem.

      Burt looked over at his son and knew he’d made a mistake. His shoulders slumped at his anger dissipated. “Kurt, I’m sorry. Don’t listen to any of that, you just got me all worked up. You know I’m just upset because I care,” Burt said trying to fix his blunder. It was times like these when Burt wished, more than anything, that his wife were still alive. He was never good at handling the tears.

      Kurt sniffled and nodded, “I k-know,” he said not able to bring himself to look over at his father. He yearned for his bed and warm blankets. He just wanted to curl up and forget the world for a couple hours.

      Looking even more uncomfortable with each passing second Burt finally parked the car in their driveway before switching the engine off. He turned in his seat toward his son and felt even worse when he saw the tears rolling down his cheeks.

      “Come here, Kiddo,” Burt said gently opening up his arms for him.

      A sob broke free as Kurt scooted into his fathers embrace and hugged him tightly. He took a deep, shuddering breath where his cheek was pressed up against Burt’s flannel shirt. Burt always smelled like cars and those stupid peppermint candies that were pilled high in a big bowl in the shop, but Kurt didn’t care. To him, this was home.

      “I love you,” Burt said quietly as he held his only child to him protectively. His son was hurting and it killed him every day because he didn’t know how to help him.

      Kurt stayed there in his father’s arms for a few more minutes until his tears dried up and he felt a little bit better. He pulled back, wiping under his eyes. “T-thanks,” he mumbled.

      “No problem,” Burt said. “Come on, Kiddo, lets get inside and you can make me whatever healthy thing you want, I promise I’ll eat it this time,” Burt tried his best to cheer Kurt up.

      His lips quirked up in a small smile and Kurt nodded, “Alright.”

***

      Kurt went through his normal routine that night, washing his face thoroughly and applying a multitude of creams and lotions in such a specific order that it made you believe it was more of a ritual then anything else.

      It wasn’t until he was crawling into bed, the soft sheets making his whole body relax, that he felt a little different for the first time in months. He thought over the therapy session he’d had that afternoon and realized his shoulders didn’t slump as low as they did yesterday. Kurt felt like a chip had been taken from the boulder crushing his shoulders. It wasn’t much in comparison to how much work there was left on the road to recovery, but it was start.

      Reaching across the nightstand Kurt touched the picture standing there gently, caressing the smooth wood frame with his fingertips.

      “I wish you were here,” Kurt murmured to himself. He stayed still for a moment longer, his eyes locked on one’s so similar to his own, before he pulled his hand back and reached up to turn the lamp off. Rolling over in his bed he curled up around his pillow and closed his eyes letting sleep take him.