Chapter Twelve:  The Biggest Mistake

Thursday November 1, 2012

Kurt dropped his messenger bag off by the door and entered the bathroom. He was surprised to see Blaine standing there with a white box in his hand, with three other boxes spread out on the counter. Kurt focused on the box, freezing as he realized what Blaine was holding. He had found Kurt’s stash of laxatives.

Blaine heard Kurt enter the room. He slowly turned to face his fiancé, a pained expression on his face. Kurt’s heart stopped when Blaine spoke.

"Kurt, what is this?”

“W-Why are you g-going through my st-stuff?” Kurt stammered.

“Why are you hiding laxatives under your sink?” Blaine demanded. He scrutinized Kurt, his eyes sweeping over his rail-thin body. “Have you even been eating at all?”

Kurt made no sign of answering.

“Have you?” Blaine repeated.

“I-I-I can’t,” Kurt whispered.

“What do you mean you can’t? You’re starving yourself, Kurt!” Blaine exclaimed. “You can’t keep this stuff from me, Kurt. It will destroy us.”

“I’m sorry! I won’t-” Kurt began; Blaine cut him off.

“But you did! Not once, but twice! You have these walls built up around yourself, I’ve always known that, but you’ve never used them to keep me out,” Blaine said painfully. “I can’t keep doing this, Kurt.”

“You said you’d never leave me,” Kurt whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I’m not leaving you; I’d never leave you,” Blaine said immediately. The box of laxatives fell, forgotten, to the ground and Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms. Kurt’s body was wracked with tremors; Blaine bit back a sob as he began to sing.

I'd run away but I can't escape the power of your pride.

Your eyes are cold like an empty soul and I'm burning up inside.

There's nothing wrong with letting go and you're still diggin' in.

We're racing to the bottom and I can't find the end.

Blaine could never leave Kurt; it killed him just thinking about it. But at the same time it killed him watching Kurt hurt himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could do it; he had already been doing it for so long.

And there's a wall

Standing here between us.

And that's all that's keeping you from freedom.

And I keep pushing harder and you keep getting stronger.

You won't break cause you're afraid you'll fall.

And there’s a wall.

The fact of the matter was Kurt was keeping him at arm’s length. He had seldom kept Blaine in the dark about his self-injury, but now he had developed an eating disorder and Blaine felt helpless to aid him. If only Kurt could give up his self-harm altogether

You love me when you want to and you find reasons to fight;

Another lame excuse to keep the devil on your side.

Trying hard to hide those scars that I've already seen;

Your beat up heart's not the only thing that's keeping you from me.

Blaine still had a hard time understanding why Kurt kept his self-harm from him. He had been shocked to find the laxatives hidden in their bathroom; he had been shocked back in Lima when he discovered Kurt’s body was marred with fresh cuts. But Kurt had been scared; he couldn’t tell Blaine he had given up all hope of recovery. And now he was trying to find that hope once more.

And there's a wall

Standing here between us.

And that's all that's keeping you from freedom.

And I keep pushing harder and you keep getting stronger.

You won't break cause you're afraid you'll fall.

And there a wall.

Kurt had tried so hard to be strong, but in the end he was still weak. He didn’t want Blaine to see that weakness; he wanted Blaine to remember him as he was when they first met, back before Blaine knew about Kurt’s self-harm. He was afraid he would fall back into the chasm of depression, self-loathing and self-harm. Kurt felt like he was trapped inside of a prison with no way to break free. He didn’t see the only way to buy his freedom was to stop harming himself.

Pain has made you weak and hard.

I will never be as strong.

As strong . . .

As this wall

Standing here between us.

And that's all that's keeping you from freedom.

And I keep pushing harder and you keep getting stronger.

You won't break cause you're afraid you'll fall

With this wall.

Kurt wiped away his tears, pulling himself away from his fiancé. Blaine took his hand, tugging him out of the bathroom. Kurt followed with a frown.

“Where are we going?” Kurt asked when Blaine stopped to slip on his shoes.

“We’re going down to that therapist’s office and you’re going to tell him what’s really been going on,” Blaine answered.

Kurt didn’t bother protesting, knowing it would be futile. Blaine thrust a blazer into his arms, waiting until Kurt had slipped it on before dragging him out of the door and into the elevator. The sidewalk was swarming with people returning home from work; this didn’t stop Blaine from clutching Kurt’s hand in his, leading the way as he power walked the fifteen blocks to Andrew Sawin’s office.

Blaine was reaching for the door handle to Andrew’s office when suddenly, Andrew was standing before them. He held a briefcase in one hand and a set of keys in the other. Needless to say, Andrew was very surprised to see the couple on his doorstep.

“Kurt, I was just leaving. Is everything okay?” Andrew asked, scanning Kurt’s face for a clue as to his unexpected presence.

“Everything’s fi-”

“I’m Blaine Anderson, Kurt’s fiancé,” Blaine interrupted, extending his hand to Andrew.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Blaine. I’m Andrew Sawin,” Andrew said, grasping his hand firmly.

“I’m sorry to show up without an appointment but it’s pertinent that we speak with you,” Blaine said. In other circumstances, Kurt would have laughed to see Blaine become dapper so quickly.

“Of course, why don’t you guys come in?” Andrew stepped back inside the building, holding the door open so Kurt and Blaine could pass through.

They settled into Andrew’s office, Kurt seated stiffly on the couch where he had sat earlier. Andrew looked at Kurt expectantly, but Kurt only stared at his hands. Blaine spoke first.

“I found four boxes of laxatives under Kurt’s sink, one of them almost completely empty,” Blaine said.

“Kurt?” Andrew asked, continuing to gaze at his patient.

Kurt’s fingers curled into fists, his cuticles cutting into the palm of his hand. Blaine gently uncurled Kurt’s fingers, lacing them with his own and squeezing his hand gently.

“Courage,” Blaine whispered.

Kurt raised tear-filled eyes to Blaine’s hazel depths. He continued to look at Blaine even as he spoke to Andrew.

“I’ve been taking laxatives,” Kurt admitted in a whisper. Blaine gave him a look, waiting for him to continue. Bowing his head, Kurt said, “And I haven’t been eating.”

“I see. When did this start?” Andrew asked.

“A little more than a month ago,” Kurt answered.

"That’s not all,” Blaine said. “He exercises all the time. If he’s not doing homework or at school, he’s on the treadmill or running through Gramercy Park.”

“What do you feel, Kurt, when you restrict your food intake?” Andrew questioned.

“Everything in my life is out of my control, but I can control my weight.”

“But you can never lose enough weight, can you?” Andrew asked knowingly.

Kurt looked up in surprise. “No.”

“Kurt, I don’t understand. Why would you want to lose weight?” Blaine asked in a hurt voice.

“I’m fat,” Kurt whispered.

“What?! Kurt, you’re skin and bones!” Blaine exclaimed. Kurt winced.

“Kurt, I told you today you’re underweight,” Andrew stated.

“Stop lying to me!” Kurt said, jumping up to his feet. “I know I’m disgusting. You don’t know to pretend otherwise for my expense!”

“Kurt-”

“Look at me!” he shrieked, pulling his shirt up so his stomach was bared. “Look at me!”

Blaine gasped. It had been several weeks since he had seen Kurt’s bare torso; whenever they made love lately Kurt made sure things escalated before they could lose their shirts because he couldn’t bear to have Blaine look at his enormous stomach. Blaine was shocked to see his fiancé now. His ribs were clearly visible, his hipbones jutted out and his stomach was becoming concave.

Kurt let his shirt fall back down. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Why was this happening? Before Blaine or Andrew could say a word, Kurt had turned and fled the office. Blaine followed him but it was too late. He ran out onto the street but couldn’t see Kurt through the crowd. Blaine thought frantically. Where would he go? Kurt wouldn’t go home, not when Finn and Rachel were there. Kurt would want to be alone. Blaine decided Gramercy Park was the best bet.

As he sped down the sidewalk, Blaine called Rachel. He quickly explained what was going on and asked for her and Finn to check around the NYADA campus, just in case Kurt had gone there. Later, Blaine would consider this the biggest mistake of his life.

K/B

The penthouse was empty when Kurt finally made it through the crowded streets of Manhattan to his home. Kurt was relieved. He knew if Finn or Rachel saw him they would never leave him alone. Kurt needed to be alone. He needed to feel the press of cool metal against the soft flesh of his wrist. Kurt took the stairs to the master suite two at a time. He tossed his phone onto the bed as he made his way to the bathroom.

Kurt pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor without a care where it landed. He grabbed his razor from its hiding place, lowering it to his wrist. The veins in his wrist stood out through his pale skin. Kurt pushed the blade into his skin, but it wasn’t enough. So he sliced into his flesh again, and again, and again, going deeper and deeper each time he drug the blade across his wrist.

Blood streamed from his wounds, splashing onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. Minutes passed by and still Kurt stood there, watching his blood flow from his veins. As dizziness began to set in, horror flooded his every sense. What had he done? Kurt stumbled back into the bedroom, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He grabbed his phone off of the bed and frantically dialed Blaine’s number.

Kurt barely had time to press the call button before the world spun around him and the floor rose to meet him.

K/B

Blaine jumped when he heard Kurt’s ringtone sound from his phone. He answered immediately.

“Kurt! Where are you?” There was no answer. “Kurt? Kurt!”