Chapter Eight:  The Devil Draws Near

Saturday October 20, 2012

Kurt had just sat down at the kitchen table with his morning cup of coffee when he received the phone call. Blaine watched him curiously; his worry growing as Kurt’s breathing grew labored. Whoever was on the line, the news they were delivering was anything but good. Blaine took the phone from Kurt, glancing at it he saw Carole’s name on the screen. He immediately handed the phone off to Finn, who disappeared into his bedroom. Blaine focused his attention on Kurt.

“Kurt, just breathe, okay? Just breathe,” Blaine said soothingly.

Tears streamed down his face as Kurt continued to fight for each breath. Blaine lifted Kurt onto his lap, tucking his head under his chin with Kurt’s ear resting against his chest so he could listen to his heartbeat. Kurt’s entire body was wracked with tremors and Blaine held him tighter, at a loss as to how to comfort him when he didn’t know what was wrong.

“Where’s his medication?” Rachel asked, startling Blaine. He had forgotten she was in the room.

“In the medicine cabinet in our bathroom,” Blaine said. He had barely gotten his answer out before Rachel was racing down the hallway to the staircase.

“Calm down, baby. Everything’s going to be okay,” Blaine tried to comfort his fiancé.

Kurt’s fingers clawed at the thin cotton of Blaine’s shirt. He whimpered, “Daddy.”

Blaine knew instantly whatever was wrong had something to do with Burt, but Kurt was in no fit state to tell him what exactly was going on. He would have to wait for Finn to return. Thankfully, Rachel reappeared with Kurt’s anxiety medication. She opened the bottle, giving Blaine one small white pill. Blaine pressed the pill to Kurt’s lips, waiting until they parted to place it on his tongue. He lifted a glass of water to his mouth, holding it while Kurt gulped it down. Kurt was just calming down when Finn entered the room, Kurt’s phone clutched in one hand. He placed the phone on the table before collapsing into one of the chairs.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked, taking Finn’s hand in hers.

“That was Mom. Burt’s in the hospital,” Finn said.

“What happened?” Blaine demanded. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around his fiancé.

“He was complaining of chest pains,” Finn answered. “Mom’s still waiting to hear from the doctor. She hasn’t seen Burt since they got to the hospital.”

“We have to go,” Kurt said, getting to his feet. “We need to pack and get plane tickets.”

“Baby, calm down,” Blaine said, reaching for Kurt’s hand. “Just relax or you’ll have another anxiety attack. I’ll buy the tickets while you and Rachel pack.”

“Okay,” Kurt said softly.

Rachel disappeared into her bedroom with Finn while Kurt hurried up the stairs to the master suite, wrenching up his sleeve as he went. Going into the bathroom, Kurt pulled one of his razorblades out from its hiding spot. Without a second of hesitation, Kurt pushed the sharp edge of the blade into his wrist. He sliced into his flesh again and again until he finally felt relief wash over him. Then he cleaned and dressed the wounds. Kurt slipped the blade into his pocket, along with spare bandages, just in case he needed them on the trip. There was no way Blaine wouldn’t notice if he took his messenger bag with him everywhere.

When Blaine entered their bedroom, he was surprised to see Kurt sitting on a large suitcase. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he fought to zip the suitcase closed. Blaine hurried to his side, sitting beside the suitcase and pulling Kurt into his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked.

“It won’t zip! I can’t get it to zip and I can’t fit everything in only four suitcases and-”

“Okay, calm down, baby. First off:  four suitcases? We don’t know how long we’re going to be gone,” Blaine pointed out.

“Exactly! We could be gone for months!” Kurt exclaimed, sliding off of Blaine’s lap to continue his battle with the suitcase.

“Kurt, everything is going to be fine. But we can’t possibly take four suitcases on the plane. Come on, I’ll help you narrow it down to two,” Blaine said, opening the suitcase Kurt had been struggling with. With Blaine’s help and persuasions, Kurt managed to weed through his clothes and accessories so they would fit in two suitcases, with barely enough room for Blaine’s things.

Two hours later, the foursome was sitting on the plane, waiting for takeoff. Kurt was extremely anxious, despite the fact he had already cut himself once that day. His empty stomach churned as the plane raced down the runway. Kurt clasped a hand over his mouth, fighting back the need to vomit. Blaine noticed and immediately thrust an airsick back into Kurt’s free hand. Kurt barely had time to move the bag to his mouth before he vomited. Blaine rubbed his back until he was finished.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked.

“Fine,” Kurt answered in a raspy voice. The seatbelt light turned off and Kurt stood up. He opened the overhead compartment and dug through his messenger bag until he found the toothbrush and toothpaste he had packed away. “I’ll be right back.”

Kurt disappeared into one of the bathroom stalls. He locked the door behind him before turning to the sink. He brushed his teeth carefully. When he was done, Kurt laid his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his razorblade. A single tear fell down his cheek. Kurt drew in a deep breath as he began to sing.

Daddy, can you hear the devil drawing near?

Like a bullet from a gun, run, Daddy, run.

All the songs you used to sing to me

Would rock birds to sleep.

I need you now so please somehow

Put rockets on your feet.

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

Kurt pulled up the sleeve of his right arm. Grasping the blade in his left hand, he brought it down to his wrist. A thin red line was left from the path of the blade. Kurt cut again and again until there were eight fresh cuts on his right wrist.

Daddy, can you hear the devil drawing near?

Like a bullet from a gun, run, Daddy, run.

Saw that dark cloud coming from a million miles away.

Oh, how I’ve dreaded this god forsaken day.

Kurt couldn’t bring himself to think about Blaine. What would he say if he saw him now? Kurt knew he would drag him to his therapist the second the plane touched down. But Kurt didn’t want to talk, not to anyone. Talking didn’t help him. Not anymore.

Daddy, can you hear the devil drawing near?

Like a bullet from a gun, run, Daddy, run.

Mama’s been crying in the kitchen.

Sister’s been afraid of the dark.

I’ve been gathering the pieces of all these shattered hearts.

And I don’t care where you go to.

And I don’t care where you land.

But just get out of there, Daddy, as fast as you can.

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

Knowing someone would come looking for him if he didn’t hurry, Kurt bandaged his wounds. Now he had bandages on both of his wrists. Kurt made sure the white from the gauze was hidden before turning on the faucet and washing the blood down the sink.

Daddy, can you hear the devil drawing near?

Like a bullet from a gun, run, Daddy, run.

Run, Daddy, run.

Run, Daddy, run.

Run, Daddy, run.

Run, Daddy, run.

After splashing his face with water, Kurt left the bathroom. Blaine watched him with a worried expression on his face as Kurt took his seat beside him.

“Feeling better?” Blaine asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” Kurt replied.

“Take a nap,” Blaine suggested, wrapping an arm around Kurt.

“I will,” Kurt said, laying his head on Blaine’s shoulder. He drifted off to sleep with his fiancé watching over him. Blaine had been staring at Kurt for several minutes when Rachel’s voice sounded from his other side, tearing his attention away from Kurt.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Rach. I’m so worried about him. What if this is his breaking point?” Blaine finally admitted the fear that had been growing since Kurt had received the call that morning.

“You don’t know that it’s going to be,” Rachel said softly. “We can’t give up on him.”

“I’m not giving up on him, not ever,” Blaine said sternly.

“I’m not either,” Rachel agreed. And they both knew, no matter what the cost, they would keep their promise.

K/B

The second they exited the airport, the foursome piled into the rental car Blaine had arranged for them. They drove straight to the hospital. Kurt chewed his lip the entire car ride. He didn’t speak a word as they walked through the hospital, searching for Burt’s room. Kurt reached the door to Burt’s room first and knocked on it once before hurrying inside.

“Daddy,” Kurt said in a broken voice, tears springing to his eyes at the sight of his father in a hospital bed.

“I’m okay, kiddo,” Burt said as way of greeting his son.

“You don’t look okay,” Kurt said. He tried to fight back off the tears before they spilled over but it was a lost cause.

“Come here,” Burt said, opening his arms.

Kurt was immediately by his side. He climbed onto the hospital bed beside his father, though the bed was hardly wide enough to accommodate two fully grown men. Regardless, Kurt made himself fit. He clung to his father, his face buried in his hospital gown as he breathed in the comforting scent that was purely Burt Hummel.

“I’m going to be fine, son,” Burt said, rubbing Kurt’s back. “The doctor said I have atrial fibrillation.”

“What does that mean?” Finn asked.

“It means your father is going to be on medication for a long time,” Carole said, “but he will be fine.”

“Enough about me,” Burt said. “As we’ve established, I’m fine. What about you kids? How’s New York?”

They spent the next hour talking about the goings on in the big city. Kurt slipped off of the hospital bed, stretching out his stiff limbs. His throat was dry and he was tired. He needed caffeine.

“I’m going to get some coffee. Does anyone else want some?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind, love,” Blaine answered.

“Of course not, baby,” Kurt said with a smile.

“I’ll come with you,” Rachel said, pushing herself out of the chair she had commandeered. Kurt nodded at the girl. He pressed a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips before following Rachel out of the room.

“How is he?” Burt asked the second Kurt was out of earshot.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Blaine said sorrowfully, collapsing into Rachel’s recently vacated chair. “He doesn’t talk to me anymore, not about things that matter. Kurt’s pulling further and further into himself and I don’t know what to do. I mean, it’s not the first time he’s been like this but he’s never done it to me. He hardly even lets me touch him anymore.”

“What do you mean? He just kissed you,” Finn asked.

Blaine blushed, pointedly looking away. He couldn’t believe this was happening in front of his fiancé’s father. Of course he had always been supportive of them, but that definitely didn’t mean he wanted to hear the details of their relationship.

“Blaine? What’s going on?” Burt asked slowly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“That’s all we ever do,” Blaine said in a soft voice. His face was a furious red.

“What – OH!” Finn said, finally comprehending. “You know, I’m going to go see if I can catch up with Kurt and Rachel.”

Finn ran out of the room. He definitely didn’t want to be there for that conversation or to see Burt maim his brother’s fiancé.

“Is that really so important?” Carole asked after a few minutes of silence.

“What? Of course not!” Blaine answered quickly.

“Blaine?” Burt asked. Blaine reluctantly raised his eyes to meet Burt’s. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to have this conversation with, but you’re my son too. If something’s bothering you I want you to be able to come to me, no matter what it’s about. I’ll be as unbiased as I possibly can.”

Blaine nodded. After a while, he said, “I just miss being that close to him. I miss him talking to me. I miss him. He doesn’t let me hold him anymore.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Carole asked.

“All he ever says is he’s fine, that there’s nothing wrong when obviously something’s going on,” Blaine said.

“You need to make him talk to you, Blaine, or talk to someone. I know he keeps refusing to go to a therapist, but maybe while you are down here you can take him to see Dr. Madsen,” Burt suggested.

“I’ll try,” Blaine said. Before Burt could reply, Kurt, Finn, and Rachel had returned. Blaine put on his best cheerful smile as he took his coffee from Kurt. He even managed to sound convincing when he said, “Thanks, love.”

Kurt returned the smile before climbing back onto the bed beside his father. Burt exchanged a glance with Blaine before quickly returning his attention back to his son. They were both in agreement that something had to be done, but Blaine was at a loss as to what.

K/B

Later that night, Kurt and Blaine returned to the Hudmel home with Carole while Finn accompanied Rachel to visit her fathers. Kurt skipped dinner, going straight to bed. No amount of coaxing from Blaine could persuade Kurt to join him and Carole for supper. Eventually, Blaine gave up, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He would make sure Kurt ate something in the morning. After a quick meal with Carole, Blaine joined Kurt in his old bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to see Kurt already curled up on his side, fast asleep. Blaine stripped off his shirt and jeans, pulling on a pair of pajama pants before sliding into bed behind Kurt. He spooned up against him, holding him close. This was the only time he was allowed to hold Kurt anymore, in his sleep, and he would take full of advantage of any chance to have his fiancé in his arms. Blaine buried his face in the back of Kurt’s neck, breathing in his scent as he fell asleep.

Kurt awoke a couple of hours later, stiffening when he felt Blaine’s arms around his waist. Truthfully, he missed Blaine. He missed the comfort he found in his arms, he missed loving him and being loved in return when they were intimate; but the risks were too high with both. It would be all too easy for Blaine to discover his self-injurious behavior. Knowing sleep would not return to him, Kurt slipped out of bed. Looking out the window into the front yard, he decided to go for a walk. He slipped out of the house, concentrating so hard on not awakening anyone that he forgot to grab a coat. He found a jacket of Finn’s in the backseat of the rental car and pulled it on.

Kurt took off down the street into the night, not knowing where he was going until Schoonover Park appeared before him. He made his way to the playground, sitting down on a swing. He grasped the chains in either hand, pushing off slightly. A half hour passed. A little drizzle began to sprinkle from the sky, soon turning into a pouring rain. Still Kurt sat, ignoring the feel of the freezing rain soaking through his body. He looked up when car lights shone through the darkness, illuminating the swing set. A dark figure jumped out of the car, running towards him.

“There you are!” Blaine exclaimed. “What were you thinking, disappearing like that? I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt mumbled.

“You’re soaked through,” Blaine said as he reached the swing where Kurt sat. He pulled him to his feet and towards the car. “Come on, you’re going to get sick sitting out here.”

The ride home was silent. Blaine turned the heat on high with all the vents turned towards Kurt. He pulled into the Hudmel driveway, steering Kurt into the house and up the stairs. Blaine hurried Kurt into his bathroom, turning on the shower before Kurt could speak. Blaine began to peel off his own wet clothes, having gotten wet in the process of getting Kurt into the rental car.

“Get in the shower before you catch cold,” Blaine instructed.

Kurt froze, visibly stiffening. This didn’t pass Blaine’s notice. Kurt said hurriedly, “I’ll be fine. You go ahead and shower, I’ll wait.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Blaine said. He stepped towards Kurt but Kurt backed away from him. Blaine eyed him suspiciously, “Kurt?”

“I’ll shower when you’re done,” Kurt said in a shaky voice.

“Take off your shirt, Kurt,” Blaine said in a firm voice.

“Blaine-”

“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”

Kurt blinked back tears, still not moving to remove his clothes. Blaine stepped towards him, reaching for the hem of Kurt’s shirt. Kurt attempted to fight him off but it was too late. Blaine pulled the shirt over Kurt’s head, gasping as his bare skin was exposed. Blaine stumbled backwards, bringing a trembling hand up to his mouth.

“Blaine,” Kurt began.

“T-take a shower,” Blaine interrupted. “I-I need to be alone.”

Without another word, Blaine exited the bathroom. The second he pulled the door closed behind him, he lost it. Hot tears poured down his cheeks and he fought for each breath. Blaine had known things were bad, but not this bad. Kurt had been slowly killing himself and Blaine hadn’t noticed. What kind of fiancé was he, to not notice Kurt suffering in silence? He had failed. Blaine collapsed on the bed, curling into a ball as his tears fell.