"Seriously, Trevor, where are we going?" Blaine asked for the millionth time.

They'd been driving for an hour and Blaine was beginning to get worried that his boyfriend was taking him out to the middle of nowhere to have him murdered.

"I told you a thousand times. It's a secret."

"If it's a secret, how can you even be taking me?"

Trevor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just…you'll understand when we get there, okay? Stop asking me, please. I can't tell you. Just be patient; we're almost there."

Blaine huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, slinking down in his chest. He was seriously beginning to get angry. Those mood swings were not getting any better, even with the boxing; if anything, honestly, the boxing just made it worse because it brought all of those emotions to the surface, but their practices were always out before he'd gotten all of the aggression out of this system.

When Trevor said on New Year's night that he wanted to take Blaine someplace secret, he hadn't really thought Trevor was serious, to be honest. It was in the middle of the night, and they were both exhausted, and he figured that his boyfriend's mind had conjured up some crazy story of how they were secret agents going on a mission or something.

Suddenly, the car stopped, and Blaine looked up from his lap to realize that they'd parked. He was hoping that by looking around, he could get some kind of clue as to what the hell was going on, but he was having none such luck. It was just deserted parking lot with about 4 other cars outside a big, abandoned-looking warehouse.

"Oh, my God, you really are taking me to have me killed," Blaine gasped, climbing out of the car and moving to stand in front of the hood.

Trevor slipped his hand into Blaine's and laced their fingers together. "Close, but no. I wouldn't do that; who would be there to get me off?"

Blaine made a put-out noise and punched his boyfriend roughly on the arm with his free hand.

"Ow! Shit. Just wait until we get inside for that, okay?"

He had no idea what that meant. "What?"

Instead of answering him, Trevor just sped up their pace and led them through a metal door around the side of the building. Inside was basically empty, concrete floors and brick walls, all grey. There was a giant contraption with several platforms and poles everywhere in the middle, and in front of that a bunch of mats had been laid down. Everything was getting more and more confusing by the minute and Blaine was not okay with it. He just wanted his boyfriend to tell him what the hell was going on.

Then he spotted the other guys already standing all around the mats and platforms, huddled together in pairs and conversing quietly. When they spotted Trevor and Blaine, they waved and called out to them.

"Hey, Trev. Finally decided to bring the baby boyfriend along, huh? Hope he's ready."

Why does that guy look so familiar? Blaine thought. Oh, Trevor's Halloween party. It was Ian, Michael's older brother. That's why he'd looked so familiar, because their faces resembled each other in a striking way. And standing directly next to, and kind of behind, was Michael.

Relieved to see a friendly face, Blaine broke away from Trevor and walked up to Michael.

"Hey, man. What are you doing here?" Blaine asked.

Michael looked terrified out of his wits—(then again, Blaine was beginning to think that's how Michael always looked). "Ian brought me. Said I needed to 'get tough.' I have no idea what that means."

"So you don't know what's going on here either?"

"Nope. But I'm guessing we'll find out in a second; your boyfriend looks like he's about to say something."

They both turned around to see Trevor standing in the middle of a circle that had formed when Blaine's attention had been engaged in conversation. He looked around it and saw some of Trevor's obnoxious friends from school, including Ian, and Wes and David.

"You all know why we're here," Trevor started, slowly turning around to face everybody. When he got to Blaine, he smiled a little. "Well, most of you. For those newcomers tonight, let me just say: Welcome to Fight Club."

Blaine's heart started pounding and he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. This was definitely not what he expected, although he admittedly couldn't really come up with anything else. Fight club? Was Trevor insane? Were all of these guys insane?

"First rule of Fight Club is: You do not talk about Fight Club. Second rule of Fight Club is: You do not. Talk. About. Fight Club. Third rule: someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule: Only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, guys. Sixth rule: no shirts, no shoes."

Then again, wasn't this just like boxing? Guys just come together and fight. That's basically what he did in boxing, except it was moderated by a teacher, so if someone got out of hand or was getting too aggressive, the match ended. Here, he was free to go as hard as he wanted to. Maybe this would be exactly what he needed.

"Seventh rule is: Fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eight, and final rule, of Fight Club…" Trevor was staring directly at Blaine and Michael. "If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight."

Michael looked like he wanted to shit his pants and was glaring at Ian like he was going to kill him when they got home; Blaine, however, was fine. He wasn't nervous at all; in fact, he was kind of excited. He'd been mad before at all the secrecy, but now he knew what all those guys were talking about with their secret club and meetings. They were talking about Fight Club, indirectly, since that would have broken rules 1 and 2.

He felt a presence in front of him and looked up from the floor to find his boyfriend staring down at him.

"Is this okay with you? You mentioned boxing when we met, and anger issues. I thought you would be the perfect new recruit. But I didn't want to bring you before you were ready, or before you trusted me. I had to wait for the right time."

"And what makes now the right time?"

In a completely uncharacteristic move for Trevor when they were in public, the older boy brought his hand to Blaine's face and caressed his cheekbone with his thumb. "Because I love you." Then he took that hand back and wound it around to smack Blaine's behind. "So you won't be mad when I kick your ass."

At first, Blaine was a little pre-occupied by Trevor's public touches, but then he pushed that aside to focus on what his boyfriend was actually saying, and stopped everything.

"Wait, I'm fighting you?"

Trevor tilted his head to the side and scoffed. "Like I'd let anyone else lay a hand on you. Come on, Blaine. You said you trusted me. You meant it, right?"

"Well, yeah," Blaine sputtered, at a loss for words. "But I didn't think you meant like this."

As soon as Trevor took that step back, Blaine mourned the body heat emanating from him. That didn't matter, though, as he was clearly starting to anger his boyfriend. "It's not a big deal. It's just guys fighting. It's what we do. Don't wuss out on me in front of all my friends, okay?"

Blaine's mouth fell open and he felt like he'd been slapped before Trevor even laid a hand on him. "I didn't want to fight you because I didn't want to hurt you, asshole. Now, though, that's pretty much out the window. So bring it on."

He didn't even care if they were the first pair lined up to fight, Blaine immediately started kicking off his shoes and ripping off his shirt. If Trevor was going to be a dick and make this about showing all of his "friends" that his "baby boyfriend" wasn't such a baby, fine. That would be exactly what he did. Blaine was about to show every single one of these guys, including his stupid douche of a boyfriend, that he wasn't some little kid that followed Trevor around like a lost puppy; he was a badass. He was Blaine-freaking-Anderson, bitches.

"Trevor and I are going first," Blaine announced to the group, stepping to the middle of the mats. He didn't even care if he was even allowed to do that, but fuck it. He ignored the surprised faces of all of Trevor's friends and shifted his weight from foot to foot, shaking himself out and getting ready.

As Trevor entered the circle in front of him, Blaine tried to focus on his anger and not his boyfriend's hot-as-hell eight-pack. No wonder Trevor's so ripped; he's in Fight Club. No. That's not what this was about. He already knew his boyfriend was hot; he needed to concentrate.

"Look, Blaine, I'm sorry," Trevor murmured, leaning close to him. "I didn't mean to come off like that. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Quit flirting and fight, already!" Ian called from the sidelines.

Blaine rolled his eyes and stared hard into his boyfriend's eyes. "Just don't hold back, okay? I'm not as fragile as everyone thinks I am."

"Blaine—"

Whatever Trevor was going to say was cut off by a punch from Blaine. Honestly, he hadn't even expected that, but fuck his boyfriend wouldn't shut up and all he wanted to do was punch him in the face. So he did.

Trevor looked shocked at first, but then Blaine caught the flash of anger in his eyes, knowing it matched his own, and they went at it. Trevor was aiming punches and kicks for Blaine's gut and face, but none of them landed. Blaine's training in boxing was coming in handy, and he was able to deflect everything his boyfriend was throwing at him, while getting in a few good hits of his own. When Blaine swung one of his legs around and knocked Trevor off his feet, he crouched down to straddle his boyfriend's lap and kissed him hard. A few of the guys catcalled from the sidelines. Blaine threaded his fingers in Trevor's hair and grasped it, yanking it back hard to pull them out of the kiss.

"I told you not to go easy on me," Blaine grunted.

Trevor growled and grabbed Blaine by the waist, flipping them over so that he was on top and had the advantage. Blaine wriggled beneath him, making Trevor lean up and over a little bit, exactly like Blaine wanted; as soon as Trevor was in the right position, Blaine brought up a knee to hit Trevor right in the crotch. Trevor howled and instantaneously rolled off of Blaine, curled into a ball.

"Fuck, Blaine! What the hell?" Trevor shouted.

The pained and panicked look in Trevor's eyes brought Blaine back to himself and he realized what he's just done. It was like in the fight he was lost to his own rage, but now that he was looking at his broken boyfriend on the ground, and he knew that it was because of him and no one else, it felt like someone had punched him in the gut, and not just physically since his boyfriend had gotten him, too.

Actually, now that he was lucid, he started feeling pain blossom in his abdomen, not as bad as when his father had broken his ribs, but bad enough to make him feel the need to wrap his arms around himself.

"Come on! Get up and finish it, pussies!"

Blaine groaned at Ian's obnoxious voice. And honestly, he'd had enough. That guy had been begging to be beaten up from day one, and this gave Blaine the perfect opportunity.

Before he had a chance to think it through, Blaine dragged himself up and headed straight for Ian on the sidelines and just tore into him. He didn't even know what he was doing, he was just throwing punches left and right, letting the adrenaline of his fist colliding with that asshole's face keep him going.

"Hey! Hey!" He felt arms encircle around his waist and he was being pulled back, his hands hitting nothing but air. "One fight at a time! Only two guys per fight! Rules four and five, Blaine!"

Blaine wrenched himself out of Wes' grasp and stood there, panting and feeling satisfied at the blood trickling down Ian's face.

"Control your boytoy, Trevor!" Ian was yelling, wiping the blood from his face. "Or he doesn't get to come back."

"Please," Blaine laughed humorlessly. "You're just afraid that if I come back it'll be your ass I'm kicking next time."

Ian started to charge at Blaine when David stepped in between them, holding his arms out. "Cut it out, guys! This fight's over. Blaine, you win. Go pick your boyfriend up off of the floor and go home. You two are done for the night."

As Blaine turned to his boyfriend, who was already starting to get up on his own, he heard Ian call out, "Yeah, Anderson, why don't you go make sure his dick is still working?"

Blaine tried hard to control himself and focus on his boyfriend. He leaned down and helped Trevor the rest of the way out, bringing his arms around his boyfriend's waist to help them walk out. "Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring Ian completely.

"'m fine," Trevor mumbled.

Michael caught Blaine's eye as they were leaving and looked sympathetic, and still scared out of his mind. Blaine felt bad for him; not just because he was probably up next, but because he had a brother like Ian.

When they were back to the car, Blaine asked for Trevor's keys, who handed them over without a word, and unlocked the doors. He maneuvered Trevor into the backseat and slid in on the bench beside him, shutting the door.

"I am so sorry," Blaine said, not even knowing where to start but knowing he had to get that out first. "I can't believe I did this to you. I don't know what came over me, I swear. I just…I guess I needed this a lot more than I had initially thought. I didn't mean for my anger issues to come out all over you."

"To be fair," Trevor interrupted, "you did warn me you had anger issues when we met. And I did ask for it."

"So you're not mad?" Blaine whispered.

Trevor leaned over and coughed, shaking his head. "This is what I brought you here for."

"To beat you up?"

"No, to unleash yourself like you did. I could see it in your eyes, Blaine. I don't know what happened to you, and it's okay that you don't want to tell me, but I can see it all over your face, how much you just want to hit something all the time. That boxing class you take isn't enough for you. You needed to get that out. I paired myself with you because those guys in there, for all their big talk, wouldn't have been able to handle you. I knew that I could. And I wanted to be the one you let that out on. I want to take your pain away, Blaine. You're so young, and you look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders; I just wanted to take some of that away."

Blaine had no idea what to say to that. He'd thought his boyfriend was being such a dick earlier, just like Ian, and here he was saying the sweetest thing in the world. Everything was so messed up; Blaine was so messed up.

"I'm so sorry, Trevor," Blaine said, hating the way his voice quivered and the tears stung his eyes.

Trevor's head whipped up to face him and he hurriedly gathered Blaine up in his arms, holding him tight. Blaine felt Trevor wince, knowing he'd done a number on his boyfriend, and loved him even more for ignoring that pain to make him feel better.

"Shh," Trevor murmured, petting Blaine's hair. "Don't apologize. I'm fine. See? I'm okay. We're okay. Everything's okay."

"It's not, though." Blaine pulled his head out of its burrow in Trevor's chest and gazed up into those beautiful brown eyes. "It's not okay. Everything isn't okay, Trevor. Don't you wonder why I live with my cousin in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment? I'm 15-years-old. Fuck, as much as I hate it, I'm a kid, and I don't live with my parents. Don't you wonder why?"

Trevor brought Blaine's face back to his chest and held him tightly, rocking them back and forth. "It doesn't matter. None of that matters, okay? Nothing matters but you and me. Whatever it is, you don't have to worry about it. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. We're together and that's all that matters, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine sniffled.

And for a second, he almost believed it.

…

February 14, 2009

Valentine's Day.

This was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year. More importantly, it was supposed to be romantic because it was Blaine's first Valentine's Day that he got to share with the person that he loved. He'd never had a boyfriend before, so he'd always spent Valentine's Days alone. Now, though, he had Trevor; this was supposed to be perfect. And it had been, for most of the night. Trevor picked him up at the door, facing the wrath of Laurel, and promising to have Blaine back before his weekend curfew of midnight.

Trevor had managed to reserve the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium for the night to be just him and Blaine—(and Blaine really didn't want to think about how much money that cost)—then took him all around the zoo, making sure to take extra-long at all of Blaine's favourite animals. When they got to the aquarium, there was a table with a beautiful dinner set for two in the tunnel of water. They ate their dinner while fish and sharks swam all around them and over their heads.

The night had been perfect and original and romantic and everything Blaine could have imagined his first Valentine's Day to be and more. Trevor had been the epitome of the perfect boyfriend all night.

Which was why Blaine had absolutely no idea why they were fighting right now.

"It's my car, Blaine!" Trevor was shouting. "My car. If I want to listen to goddamn bluegrass, then that's what we're going to listen to, because that's what I pick in my car. I worked my ass off to pay for this car, I worked hard and I earned it. I think the least you can do is respect that and leave my radio alone."

"Oh, really? Are you sure your loving parents didn't just buy it for you?"

Trevor abruptly pulled over onto the side of the road and put it in park, getting out and slamming his door before walking around to the Blaine's side. Blaine threw his door open and stepped out too.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that means! You're loaded, and you have absolutely no problem showing it."

"No, my parents are rich, Blaine. Which I never knew you had a problem with. I only ask them for money when I know I won't be able to afford it, like for something like tonight, where I pay to have a whole fucking zoo shut down for you. You didn't seem to have a problem with me 'showing it' tonight."

"Don't you ever stop to think about how that might make me feel, given that I live in an apartment with my older cousin?"

"And there we go. It's always about you and your older cousin and boo-fucking-hoo, Blaine, you live with your cousin. Big fucking deal—"

Blaine slapped him. Hard.

And that was all it took. Suddenly, they were rolling around on the ground, punching and hitting and slapping each other like they hadn't done since that night at Fight Club. Blaine had never gone back after that, just because he didn't want to let that happen again, and yet here he was, doing exactly that.

He wasn't even sure who broke apart first, but suddenly they were lying on their backs, side by side, in the grass on the side of the highway. No one stopped to see if they needed help, which was good, because what would they have said if someone did? "No, that's okay, I'm just fighting with my boyfriend. You can move along now."

Was it normal for fights to escalate to violence like this? Blaine had no idea. This was his first relationship. How was he supposed to know? The feeling in his gut saying "no" probably should have been his answer.

…

April 1, 2009

Blaine didn't like the turn their relationship had made. It was like that night at Fight Club had opened up a portal in his relationship with Trevor, one that made physical violence an okay solution when they fought. It wasn't always full-out brawls, sometimes it was just a slap across the cheek or a punch to the eye, but either way it wasn't okay. Blaine knew that.

But he also knew that they were both so deep now there was no going back. And he couldn't afford to lose Trevor. Not when he'd lost so many people already.

Though, somehow, he felt like he was starting to lose Trevor anyway. He'd been doing all he could to hold onto him. He hadn't started any fights, verbal or physical, for a good couple of weeks. And if it looked like they were about to enter into a disagreement, Blaine quickly gave in and kissed his boyfriend until they both forgot their names, much less what they were close to arguing about.

Even that method was starting to lose its effect, though. It was like, no matter what Blaine did, Trevor seemed like he didn't even want to be around him anymore. His boyfriend was growing more and more distant. It started with one cancelled date—which led to a fight, of course, that ended with a black eye on Blaine's end (that came with a nice, fake story to explain to Laurel)—but turned into not even making date plans at all anymore. Trevor still picked him up in the mornings, but often left him alone to go hang out with his friends by himself. There were no more flowers, no more medium drips, no more quick kisses before class.

Blaine was worried that he was losing the one good thing he had left in his life.

On top of that, he and Michael had started to grow closer as friends, studying together since they had 2 of the same classes, but even that friendship had started to dwindle. Michael was slowly starting to fit in with Ian and Trevor's crowd, around the same time he was being pushed out, and it scared Blaine. Why was Michael good enough and Blaine wasn't? From what Blaine heard, Michael lost his first fight at Fight Club. Badly.

At least he was allowed to come back.

No. Blaine wouldn't think about that. He was determined to have a good day. It was a Friday, the start of a weekend. Maybe he could convince Trevor to go on a date with him this weekend. It was also April Fool's Day, which meant that all of the Daltonites would go around pranking the teachers all day. So it was almost like a holiday from school since no real learning could take place when all the frogs were let out from the science lab and fake spiders were tied to the ceiling and coins were glued in a trail on the floor.

Yes. This would be a good day.

Devising a plan, Blaine raised his hand in the middle of his first class and asked for the pass to the bathroom. He was going to go to the place he knew Trevor went to every day to skip his first period, since it was english and Trevor hated that class, and he would surprise him with a fun, mini-make out session, then propose a nice date for that weekend. He couldn't drive, but Trevor could come over to their place and they could cuddle on the couch like they had on New Year's.

Except, as Blaine was heading down the hallway, he heard noises coming from the alcove on the third floor (Trevor's spot). He slowed his steps and peeked around the wall cautiously, not able to hold onto the gasp that forced itself out of his chest. Because those weren't just noises, they were moans, and they were coming from Trevor, who just happened to have another boy pinned against the wall, their lips glued together.

At Blaine's sharp gasp, the boys jumped apart, and he could clearly see that the other boy was—

"Michael?"

Trevor immediately started trying to fix the situation. "Blaine, before this gets out of hand—"

"Before this gets out of hand, Trevor? Really? Because seeing as how you're my boyfriend and your lips were just firmly attached to another guy's, I'd say this is already out of hand."

"Just let me explain—"

"Explain what? How could you possibly explain this?"

"I…"

When Trevor trailed off, Blaine shook his head and laughed. "Exactly. That's what I thought."

The three of them stood there in silence for a split second before Blaine nodded his head, sniffed and wiped his nose, then charged at Trevor. He was hitting everywhere he could; Trevor's face, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. It didn't matter. He wanted Trevor to hurt like he was hurting. This time, it wasn't about Trevor lifting the weight off of Blaine's shoulders or whatever bullshit he had fed to him that first night; this was pure fury.

Trevor brought his hands up and pushed against Blaine's chest hard enough to launch him backwards, off of him, and they both sat there staring at each other before Michael spoke up.

"Hey, Blaine, man look. This is all my fault, alright? Don't get mad at Trevor."

And Blaine thought that Michael had never looked more pitiful.

"Oh, really, Michael?" he said, climbing up off of the floor. "Well I guess if you're going to tell me how to feel or not feel towards my boyfriend in my relationship, I have to listen to you, right?"

"That's not what I meant, man—"

"No, I know what you meant. This was your fault, you said. Good. Then I know who to hit."

No sooner had the words left Blaine's mouth than he was following through on them and punching Michael square in the jaw. The boy was knocked over with the force of the blow and fell onto the ground beside Trevor.

"Blaine!"

Blaine watched as his boyfriend leaned over another guy, checking his face and making sure he was alright, cradling him like he used to cradle Blaine.

"Nice, Trevor. Real nice."

Trevor looked up at him, his face a mixture of emotions. Blaine tried to identify a few of them—shock, pain, and was that fear?—but didn't care enough to look too hard. "What the hell is wrong with you, Blaine?"

"What's wrong with me? You're the one who cheated on me! With Michael! You always sounded so scandalized by our age difference, but I guess you like preying on the younger and weaker."

"Look at yourself, Blaine. You're not weak. You're a fucking wreck. You wanna know why I went looking for someone else? All we ever do is fight. And our fighting turned physical, Blaine. You and I both know that's not normal. Even beyond that, you've never hit someone else when we fight. You have issues, man. And being with me is making them worse."

"No, you treating me like shit is making my 'issues' worse."

"Just stop, Blaine. It's over. We're not good together. That's all there is."

"We're not good together? Or I'm not good enough?"

Blaine walked away without giving Trevor the chance to answer. He was afraid of what it might be.

…

Blaine didn't return to class after that. He was actually impressed how they'd been shouting in the middle of the hallway and no one, not a single teacher or student, had come to see what was going on. But that was Dalton for you, he guessed. They liked to pretend like all of their students were perfect gentlemen, and any problems they had were ignored until they went away.

He was starting to realize that that was all he would ever be; a problem to be ignored until it went away. It's what his parents had done. They ignored him until he got to be too much, and they threw him away. Now Trevor had done the same thing.

What was so wrong with Blaine that no one wanted him? He hadn't been good enough for his parents, and now he wasn't good enough for Trevor. How long until Laurel saw what his parents and Trevor did and threw him out, too?

The thought made Blaine shiver as he walked down the sidewalk away from Dalton, having no particular destination in mind. If Laurel abandoned him too, he'd truly be left with nothing. He would be put in foster care, bounced from home to home because surely, if his own loved ones didn't want him, complete strangers wouldn't either. What loved ones? Did Blaine even have any loved ones? Was Blaine even loved? He sure didn't feel like it.

Why was he so messed up? Why was he never good enough? Why couldn't he control his anger, or the damn tears that had started falling down his face? Why did no one care about him?

If no one loved him, why was he even still here?

…

When he called Laurel an hour and a half later and asked her to pick him up, it felt all too much like the one night of his life he worked hard every day to not remember. He was sobbing, and he didn't know where he was; he was just sitting on the curb, and knew that he had to call Laurel, because she was all he had left, and all he could do was hope and pray that she still cared enough to come and get him.

She did. She was there in under half an hour. The second he got in the car, he was berated with questions as to why he wasn't at school like he was supposed to be, and what happened, and why was he crying, and it was just all too much. He couldn't take it.

So he didn't say anything. He just let himself collapse into the seat and let go of everything, succumbing to the darkness he knew it was only a matter of time that he gave himself over to.

…

April 5, 2009

He hadn't gone to school for the rest of the week. Laurel called out on account of family emergency. Blaine was confused for a second before remembering that he still had a family; Laurel counted as family.

He hadn't spoken at all since that day. Not once. It was like nothing in the world mattered anymore. He had no one. He was no one. And without an identity, what was the point of using your voice?

Laurel, of course, was flipping her shit. She tried desperately to get him to talk, calling over social workers from when everything was going down with his parents last year. He heard them all talking about how he was clinically depressed, and heard them in patronizing tones tell him that he was not allowed to close his bedroom door, and he was not allowed to lock the door when he went to the bathroom or took a shower. Not that that was really necessary to tell him, since he hadn't felt up to even taking a shower since that Wednesday.

Blaine wasn't dumb. He knew what that meant. He was on suicide watch. Which was dumb. Because Blaine wasn't suicidal. He just didn't necessarily see the point in his existence anymore if he was such a hindrance to everyone. But he'd never take his own life. He was a drama queen, but not that much. If anything, he'd probably just run away in the middle of the night and start over in a new town with a new personality that people might not feel the need to run away from.

Ironic that he would run away to stop people from running away.

…

"Blaine."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, burrowing further into the covers, trying to go back to sleep. Sleep was easier. When he was unconscious, he couldn't think of all of the shit going on in his conscious realm.

"Blaine, come on. Talk to me. Please."

He rolled over reluctantly and came face to face with Laurel, who was lying in bed beside him. He wanted to tell her to get out of his bed, but then he realized that it wasn't his bed, it was hers. He didn't even have a bed to call his own.

"I just want to know what happened. You don't have to give me huge details. I just need to know what's happening with you, Blaine. This is serious."

He groaned. Like I don't already know that.

"I care about you. It is killing me to see you like this. I can't stand to see you hurting."

If it's killing you just to watch me hurt, imagine how I feel.

"I just want to know what to do to make you feel better."

You can't. I can't feel better. I'll never feel better.

…

April 11, 2009

The entire week had gone by and Blaine had only gotten out of bed to pee. He didn't even have to get up for food; Laurel brought it to him. He just didn't feel up to going to school and learning. Or moving. Or existing, for that matter.

…

It was a fluke, really. Laurel had been listening to her iPod in the living room while grading papers, Blaine could hear it from the bedroom, when she suddenly burst in and said she was going to go out and pick up the pizza that he hadn't known she'd ordered for dinner for them. Why she hadn't had it delivered, he would never know.

He was lying in bed in their apartment alone, too exhausted to get up and go to the living room to shut her music off, when he heard it. It was a song he vaguely recognized the melody to, but had never actually listened to the words of.

I couldn't tell you why she felt that way
She felt it every day
And I couldn't help her
I just watched her make the same mistakes again
What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems
Don't know where she belongs
Where she belongs

It was Avril Lavigne, and while Blaine was never really that fond of her to begin with, the words were hitting a little too close for him to ignore.

She wants to go home
But nobody's home
It's where she lies
Broken inside
There's no place to go
No place to go
To dry her eyes
Broken inside

That was basically how Blaine felt at the moment, in a nutshell. He wanted to go home, but he had no place to go. He had no home. He felt like he was just staying at Laurel's apartment, but it was just temporary. He had nowhere. He was broken inside with nowhere to go to fix himself.

Open your eyes
And look outside
Find the reasons why
You've been rejected
And now you can't find
What you left behind
Be strong, be strong now
Too many, too many problems
Don't know where she belongs
Where she belongs

He had no idea why, but when the chorus started up for the second time, he belted it out. He messed up a lot of the words, and his voice was low and raw from its lack of recent usage, and laying down was definitely not a good position to sing from because he couldn't get proper breath support. But it just felt so good.

Her feelings she hides
Her dreams she can't find
She's losing her mind
She's falling behind
She can't find her place
She's losing her faith
She's falling from grace
She's all over the place

He threw the covers off his legs and slowly, shakily, stood up.

…

When Laurel got home to find Blaine singing his heart out to "My Happy Ending," also by Avril Lavigne, she was so startled to see Blaine not only out of bed but using his voice that she dropped the pizza on the floor.