Chapter 23

The hospital had to ask if they knew their attacker. Karofsky had fled the scene as soon as the pain in his groin alleviated enough for him to run, which was just as the ambulance lights began to flash in the distance.

They both claimed they didn’t really see his face, that it “could have been anyone, really”. Maybe it was irresponsible for them to do so, but something deep inside of Kurt told him that getting Karofsky charged wouldn’t make a difference. The guy needed to get help, and he would certainly get none in juvie. Even though Puck refused to say anything except “I ruled the place, man” about his juvenile delinquency experience, Kurt had a feeling there was a lot that their friend wasn’t telling them. And somehow, he failed to picture a happy ending for Karofsky, if he were sent there, too.

And everyone deserves a happy ending.

Blaine was a little reluctant about lying to the authorities, but Kurt proved to be very persuasive. They both could recall the thoughts and feelings that used to arise in them, when the first realization struck them; the fear of rejection and being condemned by so many people who didn’t even know them, the disgust they were sure to face from so many of those around them. That definitely was not an easy thing to handle. And some people simply can’t find a solution other than turning their hatred away from themselves and onto others.

‘You sure we did the right thing?,’ Blaine asked one more time, as he watched Kurt put on his coat a couple days later, heading out of the hospital at last. His vision had cleared almost completely, and aside from a slight nausea that persisted and a constant throbbing in his head, he was fine. Now he was just supposed to rest until all the symptoms go away for good.

‘Yes,’ Kurt replied firmly, but turned to face Blaine with sympathy. ‘I know, it’s about the- the other time, when you- I know. But I really believe that this was different. We know for sure who did this, you didn’t, you only suspected. And then it was just homophobic assholes, right? And with… Karofsky, we both know he’s more of a homophobic gay, which only makes me sad rather than angry, the more I think about it.’

Blaine nodded pensively. He couldn’t say he didn’t feel a little bad for Karofsky, too, despite everything that’s happened.

‘And you really don’t want him to pay for this?’ He waved his hand around the room.

‘Well,’ Kurt sighed. ‘I guess it wouldn’t really change anything, apart from the fact that I’d blame myself for making sure it would not get better for him. Plus, a kick in the groin was hopefully an experience painful enough for him not to mess with us or anybody else ever again.’

‘So what now?,’ Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged slightly. ‘How about we move on and just live?’

It could not be the easiest thing to do, but what else was an option?

‘Okay.’

***

Everything seemed to go right back to an almost perfect normalcy. The news of Kurt and Blaine’s attack spread quickly throughout the school, the boys’ official version corrupted in the usual way with fantastical details. The odd thing was that suddenly, everyone appeared to be sympathetic, and along with curious stares at their slowly fading bruises, came looks of sadness and empathy. At first, Kurt was thrown off guard by that, but gradually he was beginning to think that maybe – just maybe – it took something like that to make McKinley safer and for the effect to last. In a way, it even made him think of it as a good thing. For the first time since the New Directions were founded, all of them went two whole weeks without anybody getting slushied or humiliated in any other way.

Kurt and Blaine readjusted to the slightly quieter McKinley without difficulty. After all, their attacker couldn’t touch them, and they both believed he wouldn’t strike again anyway, and everything was falling into place. The boys would hang out almost every night, either having a movie night or a sleepover together, or meeting with their Glee club friends at Breadstix or the Lima Bean. Aileen was reluctant to let them walk Goldie after dark anymore, concerned about both of them and the dog, but they also didn’t insist on changing her mind. It would feel strange to do it again, and Kurt was afraid he’d freak out the way Blaine did on Halloween.

Because no matter how quickly things appeared to have returned to their normal state – or improve even – and no matter how the bruises faded through purple and yellow into nothing at all, some results of the attack persisted, much deeper beneath the surface. Neither of the boys felt the attack destroyed them; they had built up enough strength to make it through. But something did change; neither Kurt, nor Blaine really saw it, and if they did, they didn’t dwell on it.

But what they did know was that they didn’t want to hide and waste their lives waiting for the world to change and make them feel welcome. Yes, what they’d been through had been a terrible ordeal no one should ever suffer. But if they let it break them down, how would they know, whether it really does get better in the end, or not? Yes, they were going to be maybe a little bit more watchful; their fears weren’t going away as easily as they might have hoped. But, no, they would not get terrorized into not living their lives to the fullest. Or at least, they wanted their lives to be as full as could be.

Burt was a little worried about Kurt, but understood the boys; he wanted them to be happy, and moving on seemed the best option to make that happen. Both the Hudson-Hummels and Aileen were keeping a close eye on Kurt and Blaine, just to make sure they were fine. It didn’t take long for the three of them to become quite good friends, and for Aileen to end up being invited to one of the Friday dinners at Burt and Carole’s. And those were strictly family events.

Aileen made sure Blaine felt her presence; he’d been alone for much too long, and now she felt he really needed his family. For what she had gathered about the bashing two years prior, no one took care of the psychological trauma he suffered. He was largely left to lick his wounds and put himself back together on his own. All he mentioned was a psychiatrist sent to him at the hospital, who had come to him once and apparently hadn’t thought there was any need for his assistance.

This time around, Aileen wouldn’t let that happen. She didn’t force either of the boys to talk to her, but told both of them she was there for them, if they ever needed her. She could see that they grew stronger than most people would assume, and the support they had in each other made their experience easier to put behind them. Kurt gave her a hug and thanked her sincerely. A strange peace came over him as he did it; knowing he had someone to turn for help to was oddly comforting. He doubted lying on any therapist’s couch – even Aileen’s – and spilling his guts could ever be as calming.

Getting Blaine to talk about his feelings was a challenge. He’d been living with Aileen for just a short few months, but it didn’t take her long to figure it out. She was amazed at how close he and Kurt were, and completely astonished, when she realized Blaine’s best friend could actually make him talk of deep emotional stuff. Her psychological tricks rarely worked on him, and somehow Kurt knew his way around Blaine well enough not to need them. Or maybe what they had went beyond any bond that she could ever develop with her nephew. It made her simultaneously strangely happy and sad.

There was one thing Aileen had to talk to Blaine about, though. She dreaded the conversation, her heart breaking at the thought of the phone call she had been forced to make the morning after the boys’ attack.

‘Blaine, sweetie?,’ she said a couple of days later at breakfast, looking straight at his injured face. The ugly purple of the bruise made her hands tighten into fists, itching to hit the guy who did this.

‘Hm?,’ Blaine muttered with his mouth full of cereal. He lifted his eyes to find a concerned expression on his aunt’s face.

‘I called your parents. About the- About the attack.’

Blaine froze, his mouth still full of milk and half-chewed corn flakes. That did not promise to be a nice conversation. His parents had become a sort of a taboo topic between them, and he was far from willing to change that.

He swallowed finally after a half minute of simply staring ahead and cleared his throat.

‘And?’

‘Your mom seemed- um- I guess worried is the best way to put it.’ That was true; Mrs Anderson had indeed seemed to be concerned with her son’s well-being. Still, a short description of his injuries calmed her down in a matter of seconds, which made Aileen uneasy, if not disgusted by her sister’s insensitivity. Blaine nodded silently in response. ‘Your dad, though…’ Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

‘Let me guess,’ Blaine said bitterly, ‘he thinks I was asking for it when I transferred out of Dalton.’

‘He didn’t say it in those exact words, but… Yes, I guess that’s pretty accurate.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘How do you feel about it?’

Blaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he knew she meant well, but talking about his feelings, even to her, was difficult. Only Kurt made him forget all his inhibitions and reservations about exposing or ridiculing himself.

‘Fine, I guess,’ he mumbled at last. ‘It’s not like I was expecting them to come running, when they hear about all this. I wouldn’t even mind if they never found out.’

He shrugged and pushed his half-empty cereal bowl away. His appetite was gone.

Aileen was studying him carefully all the while. Apart from being hurt by his parents again, he seemed to be handling the situation well. Even surprisingly well.

‘Okay. But if you ever need to talk, or anything, you know what to do, right?,’ she asked. She’d told him that probably a thousand times before.

Blaine smiled faintly at her.

‘Yes, I do. And just so you know, you’ve talked to me more than both Mom and Dad have ever talked to me. Combined.’

He left the room, torn between resentment for his parents and gratefulness for his aunt. It crossed Aileen’s mind that maybe she was doing a good job with this after all.