Collision

Chapter One

"Straighten your shoulders, Blaine."

His mother's admonishing tone snapped Blaine from his thoughts as he stared absently out of the carriage window, watching the hustle of the port pass them by. "Sorry, Mother."

They rolled to a halt, and the door was opened for them. Blaine watched dully as Sebastian Smythe gracefully stepped out and offered Blaine's mother a hand to step out, before Blaine dutifully followed.

And then he saw it. Despite himself, he couldn't help but let a small gasp of wonder escape his lips as he stared up at the majestic vessel, the ship that would take him home to America. How could anything so grand sail the ocean? The sea breeze played gently across his face as he greeted the ship with wonder filled eyes. It wasn't Titanic's fault it was taking him to a life as a slave, to be bound in invisible chains, of a marriage he didn't want…

"Blaine! Come on!" Sebastian said sharply, his tone condescending as it always was, "Honestly, you can stare at it when we're on board. Sometimes I wonder where that head of yours is…"

Blaine felt his body jerk involuntarily, years of etiquette practice and schooling forcing his muscles into a more appropriate stance. Sebastian had already offered his arm to Blaine's mother, and so the younger man followed them up behind.

"They say it is unsinkable. What a marvel…" Blaine grimaced as his mother made small talk on Sebastian's arm.

As he stepped off the ramp and onto the plush carpet of the brand new ship, the scent of still fresh wood polish and paint wafting up his nose, mixing with the tang of salt from the air, his feet felt even more like lead than they had before.

The deed was done. He would go to America. The Anderson and Smythe families would unite by his taking Sebastian's sister as a wife; a girl he hadn't even met. Blaine would then take up a respectable position within Smythe Enterprises – something to do with mills; Blaine really didn't care enough to remember. And his family would be saved from destitution.

Blaine would do as his mother and father willed. His father already awaited them in America, and it would not be long before Blaine and his mother joined him there. Sebastian had been doing some business in London, and also been tasked – very discretely, of course – to keeping Blaine on track, and make sure he made it to his sister's wedding.

Why did he feel like he was signing his own death warrant?

Kurt Hummel tapped his forefinger on the beer-soaked wood of the table, shooting a grin at a decidedly nervous Finn Hudson, his stepbrother. He allowed his smirk to spread over his face, "Well, come on gentlemen, let's see your hands!"

Finn looked like he was going to be sick, "This was such a bad idea… Mom is gonna kill me…"

"Always such a Momma's boy, Finn. Come on, live a little! Do you want to go home, or not?"

"Well, I've got nothing…" Finn sighed miserably, throwing his hand down in disgust.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at the man in front of him, trying not to look to closely at the pair of third class tickets on the table, the tickets that he so desperately wanted for him and his brother…

They may not have been kin by birth, but they were all the closer for it. They had come to Europe a little short of two years ago, leaving behind a happily married new set of parents as Finn's mother and Kurt's father finally tied the knot in a lovely ceremony in their homestate of Ohio.

The pair may not have found their fortune, but they sure as hell had lived their lives, every moment of everyday. Even Finn had fallen in love with the Bohemian lifestyle by the end of their stay in Paris, although that may have been no small part thanks to him meeting a rather forthright stage singer named Rachel… a whirlwind romance that would almost definitely have endured had it not been for that unfortunate incident with her father…

Now, though, now the brothers had been away from their homeland long enough… Seattle, Chicago, San Francisco… these were new cities to be explored… to be captured in charcoal and song…

"Nothing, Olaf? And you Sven?" Kurt hissed through his teeth as the last player placed his cards down, "Two pairs? Oh, Finn, I'm so sorry…"

Finn groaned, "I knew it! Kurt, how could you let me-"

Kurt grinned, cutting over his brother, "Finn, I'm sorry, but you're not gonna see Rachel again for a little while – we're going home! Full house!" He threw his cards down as Finn sprang to his feet, yelling with joy.

"Oh my God, Kurt! We're going on the Titanic! We're goin' home!"

Kurt hugged Finn in jubilation as Olaf punched his drinking buddy, "Oh my God, can you imagine Dad's face? We're going back to America, Finn!"

"Nah mate!" The bartender yelled over the chaos, "Titanic's going to America – in five minutes!"

"Oh crap…" Finn swore blankly.

"Well what are you waiting for, move you dumb lug!" Kurt yelled with a laugh at Finn, scooping their winnings into his bag as he grabbed their tickets.

They ran out of the port-side tavern, Kurt weaving his way nimbly through the cheering crowds, safe in the knowledge that he could hear Finn's heavy steps on the cobbles, right on his heels. He leapt on the gangway, "No, no, we're passengers, look, we've got tickets!"

There was already a small gap between the door and the ramp, and the guard was in the way to prevent a jump as Kurt waved the tickets at him, "Have you been through the health inspection queue?"

Kurt pulled on his best smile, willing Finn to not open his stupid mouth when they were this close, "Of course we have! Do I look like I have lice to you? We're American, and very clean!" Please don't scratch, Finn, please don't scratch…

"Alright, come on!" They both jumped aboard, and Finn grabbed Kurt's arm, grinning as he took the lead to tear through the halls, leading them both up on deck to wave goodbye to the shore.

"I can't believe it, Kurt, we're going home…"

Kurt grinned, his hair whipping across his face with the wind, "I know…"

"Oh, Blaine, I don't know why you insisted on bringing those silly scrawls along with you…" His mother sighed, looking over her shoulder at her son. Blaine didn't look up as he attempted to stuff the papers back into the satchel that had spilled open while unpacking the room.

Sebastian smirked, reaching forwards and forcibly pulling a wedge of paper from Blaine's hands, "Music? Don't tell me you wrote these, Blaine?"

Blaine blushed to the roots of his slicked back hair, and nodded, "They're just something I like to work on…"

"Don't mumble, Blaine dear, please. It's unseemly." Mrs Anderson sighed, "I'll see you both for dinner. I must make sure Jane has taken my jewellery down to the purser… And do make sure you are on time. I hear that dreadful Sylvester woman is on board. One of those new money types from her father's success in gold mining. I couldn't bear to sit through a meal in her company…"

When the older woman had left, Sebastian rolled his eyes, throwing the scribbled score sheets at Blaine's feet, "If you must practice such womanly pastimes of writing music, then so be it, but try and at least get some head for numbers before we arrive in New York? You want my father to like you, don't you, little brother?"

Blaine's stomach twisted in knots. He hated it when Sebastian belittled him, and it was even worse when he used that term of endearment with such a mocking sneer. Sebastian was not Blaine's older brother. He never would be, marriage or not. Blaine protested, "Cooper always encouraged my compositions…"

Sebastian snorted, "Yes, well Cooper had a lot of bad ideas, now didn't he?" He laughed at his own 'joke' and slapped Blaine's shoulder vigorously before leaving him alone to gather his music, tears burning in his throat, swallowed before they could form.

A new dawn to the ocean brought much of the same, as far as Blaine was concerned, the wonder long leeched from his world by those around him. They were sitting for luncheon with some of the more prominent passengers, and he really didn't care. His fingers itched to open his pocket book and write down the chords that sang in his head, but instead he had to satisfy himself with tapping out a rhythm on its closed leather cover with his pen.

"Blaine." His mother's voice spoke primly, but still managed to convey annoyance, "You know how much your father doesn't like it what you bring that book to the table… It's not proper."

A hand stilled his own, taking his pen, and Blaine didn't even need to look to his left to know it was Sebastian, "Why don't I hold onto that for you, Blaine?"

A tall blonde woman opposite them let out what was to the untrained ear a pleasant laugh, but to those of high society could hear to be cold and biting, "Come now, Mr Smythe, surely boys should be encouraged to apply their minds?"

Sebastian just smiled at her, snakelike, "Well, my soon to be brother in law will not be a boy for much longer, will he, Miss Sylvester? I like to think I am guiding him in those last few steps he must take until manhood."

Blaine watched as the woman afforded him a glance, before turning her rather frosty gaze back to Sebastian, "Really, now? One might be mistaken to think you were the one marrying him!" She laughed, as did many around the table as they followed her lead. Blaine noticed how his mother's smile had become even more fixed than usual, but couldn't help but smile softly as the sharp woman sent him a covert wink.

Kurt leant against the railings, breeze ruffling his hair as he guided charcoal across paper with long, delicate fingers. He had always loved drawing, ever since he had been small. One of his favourite things to do when he was younger had been to draw with his mother, and even after she had died, he had never been able to bring himself to stop. In Paris, he had drawn anything and everything, even made a pretty penny selling women's clothing sketches to some design houses, but had inevitably come across the roadblocks brought on by his station and gender.

As he smudged his finger across the dress of the little girl he was drawing, Kurt absently listening into Finn's conversation with a fellow third class passenger. "Ah, that's typical. First class dogs taken down here to take a shit…"

Kurt twisted around to take a look at the newcomer. He was tall, rather intimidating with a shaven head, casually leaning as he smoked a cigarette. Kurt smiled wryly, "It's their way of reminding us where we rank in the scheme of things."

The other man's eyes sparkled with mirth at Kurt's dry words, "Like we could forget?" He stepped forwards offering his hand, "Noah Puckerman. Friends call me Puck.

"Kurt Hummel." Kurt nodded, accepting the hand he was offered.

"Nice drawings, you sell them?"

Kurt was no longer listening. He was too preoccupied by the young man who had just stormed purposefully onto the first class promenade to stand at the rails. Kurt watched, enchanted, as the dark haired boy made to sweep a hand through his hair until he stopped halfway, as if remembering it was slicked back. He wore a typical lounge suit of the absurdly wealthy, and sure, he wore it well, but there was something more there, something that Kurt couldn't quite place… Something behind those eyes.

He was beautiful…

Puck seemed to have noticed Kurt wasn't listening anymore, "No use on wishing, my friend. Angels are more likely to fly out of your ass than you gonna get up there with the high and mighty."

Finn, however, seemed to notice more precisely what had caught Kurt's eye. He hit his brother on the arm, giving him a pointed look. Not here you idiot!

It was true. It was one thing to look at another man that way in the red light districts of Paris, but it was a whole other matter out here. Kurt averted his eyes with his most innocent look. Finn just grinned at him exasperatedly, long having accepted his brother's preference for men, and shook his head.

Kurt continued to watch out of the corner of his eye, as the young man was pulled off deck by a smarmy looking man in his mid-twenties. Tall, prim, and very adept at dulling the brief spark Kurt had caught in the beautiful stranger's eyes.

Blaine couldn't handle it anymore. One more false smile, one more grab to his elbow in an attempt to steer him to where Sebastian though he should stand. He was under no illusions that becoming a husband would stop all of this. If anything, he would be more trapped, in a family that wasn't in, in a society he hated, with a woman he didn't, could never love…

He ran through the top deck of the Titanic, unable to breathe, even for all the sea air whipping against his face, stinging his skin with its cold bite. He gasped for air as his hands clasped around the icy railing at the rear of the ship, his stomach folding against it, allowing him an unencumbered view out onto the inky expanse of water.

It would be so easy…

What other way out was there for him? He couldn't go on living like this!

In the back of his mind, he was almost certain that he could hear Cooper, begging him not to do it, begging him to find another way…

But Cooper was dead, had been for nearly eight years now, drowned in the lake of the family estate as he tried to save his moronic little brother…

Blaine had survived, Cooper hadn't.

Blaine let a sob rip through his lungs. He should have been the one to drown that day, not Cooper. Cooper was the eldest, the son destined to take over the family estates. Cooper wouldn't have screwed up. Cooper would have found himself a good wife, probably would have had kids by now, Cooper would have been happy, would have made their parents proud…

Cooper wasn't defective, Cooper didn't find men attractive…

Blaine's stomach twisted with the guilt of even thinking it, of even thinking those dirty thoughts.

Everything would have been better if he had drowned that day…

Without real conscious thought, Blaine found that he had taken one step, and then two, and then he had stepped over until there was nothing between him and the darkness. He let himself lean out, his arms stretching taut as they took more of his weight.

"Don't do it." A voice, soft, gentle and warm cut though the chilly April air.

Blaine started, but didn't lose his hold, panic seizing his chest, "Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

He twisted to see a young man, about his age, obviously slender even in his baggy worn clothes. His eyes were kind, as blue as the ocean at dawn. And his voice, his voice was beautiful, hypnotising, "Come on, just give me your hand, I'll pull you back over."

There was a surety in the stranger's movements that gave Blaine pause. It was laced with a genuine concern, as if he really did care if Blaine jumped or not.

"No! Stay where you are! I mean it…" He really didn't, the boy's presence was confusing everything, "I'll let go!"

The stranger approached cautiously, palms spread as he kept a distance, before looking into Blaine fear filled eyes, "No you won't."

Blaine's entire being sparked. All his life, people had been telling him what he would do, what he could, what he should, and now this person was too! "What do you mean, 'no I won't'? Don't presume to tell me what I will or will not do! You don't know me!"

The slender man shrugged, his eyes clear and calculating, "Well, you would have done it already…"

Blaine's skin prickled, and he shifted his grip, snapping petulantly, "Well, you're distracting me. Just go away!"

"I can't. I'm involved now. If you go in, I'm gonna have to jump in there after you…" He said it plainly, already shucking off his jacket and starting on the laces of his boots.

Blaine blinked at the strange boy. What was wrong with this person? Why did he care what Blaine did or did not do? "D-don't be absurd…" Blaine mumbled. "You'll be killed…"

"I'm a good swimmer." There was no joke in the tone, no condescending snap to it. Just a kindness, and a cool logic.

"The fall alone would kill you…" Blaine refuted.

"It'll hurt sure, but it won't be a given. I'm more worried about the cold water than the fall." He shrugged.

Blaine blanched, suddenly back there in the lake, knives stabbing at his skin and lungs, weeds pulling his legs as stars danced over his eyes. Not knowing which way is up and which way is down, not being able to think…

"I'm really not looking forward to jumping in there after you…" The stranger murmured, brushing a few strands of wayward brown hair from his face, "But, like I said, I don't have a choice…I guess I'm hoping you'll come back over the rail, and get me off the hook here…"

He had drawn closer to Blaine in the time they had been talking, and their eyes met. Calm against desperate. "You're crazy…" Blaine croaked, unable to comprehend the person behind him.

A beautiful smile split onto the stranger's pale face, in a way that made something in Blaine's stomach twist pleasantly, despite the situation, "It's been said. But then, if you don't mind me saying so, sir, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship ready to jump…"

Blaine bit his lip, resolve long destroyed by the gentle words of the boy who now offered him his hand, "Come on, you don't want to do this. Take my hand, come on…" The voice was rhythmic and gentle, coaxing Blaine as he finally reached around and took the surprisingly soft hands of the young man.

He twisted on the rail, and the relief in the other's eyes was palpable. He let out a breath, his eyes level with Blaine's own as he smiled, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"B-blaine Anders-son…" Blaine stuttered over his name, only now realising how cold he was, standing on the edge in only a dress shirt, and no jacket in sight.

Kurt smiled charmingly, "Unusual name; it's lovely." Blaine found himself blushing as Kurt secured a tighter grip on his hands, "Come on, let's get you back."

Blaine smiled shyly, and made to take another step up the railings. But his dress shoes weren't designed for grip-

"Blaine!"

Blaine was falling with Kurt's shout, and he couldn't help but yell in panic as he completely lost all footing on the ship. His arms snapped taut and his shoulder socket wrenched as suddenly Kurt was holding onto all his weight, desperately trying to stop him from falling. "Kurt!"

Blaine didn't want to die. All thoughts had been soundly driven from him mind, probably as soon as this beautiful boy had unwittingly stepped into his life. His legs swung wildly, trying to find something to lever himself up with. "Blaine! Come on, pull yourself up!"

Blaine was terrified, and he could see that fear mirrored in Kurt's eyes. His fingers were frozen, and his brain wasn't thinking straight. He lost grip for a second time on the rails, "Kurt! Please don't let me fall!"

The grip on his arms strengthened, "Blaine, Blaine, look at me!" The command in Kurt's voice overrode Blaine's blind panic, and his eyes connected with the blue determined eyes of the man above him, "Blaine, I promise I won't let you fall. You need to trust me! Now, come on!"

Kurt heaved with all his strength, and Blaine found grip on the bottom-most rail. By sheer force of will and combined determination, Kurt hoisted Blaine up the outer rails and pulled him over, where they landed in a panting, shell shocked heap.

A stray giggle bubbled past Kurt's lips as Blaine's heart began to slow enough for him to start to smile.

But then there was a pounding of boots, and Kurt was bodily pulled off Blaine.

Blaine numbly allowed them to wrap him in a blanket and he was pretty sure someone handed him a brandy at some point. He couldn't stop shivering, although now it was much less about the cold.

Someone was yelling. Blaine blinked sluggishly. Sebastian?

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think that a dirty thief like you could get away with attacking my brother in law?"

Blaine looked up. When had they put handcuffs around Kurt's wrists? "Sebastian…"

"What did you think you were doing?"

Oh no, Blaine knew that tone… He jumped to his feet, ignoring the sailor who tried to steady him, and wrenched Sebastian back before he could attack Kurt physically, "Sebastian! Stop it! He didn't do anything wrong! It was an accident! He rescued me!"

Sebastian stopped, staring blankly at Blaine, "He rescued you?"

Blaine nodded vigorously, exchanging a glance with a perplexed yet stoic Kurt, "I was leaning over the railings to get a better look at the ship's propellers, and I slipped… Mr Hummel heard me shout and helped me… I owe him my life."

Sebastian shook his head down at Blaine, muttering disgustedly, "Typical Blaine." He rounded on Kurt, "Is this true?"

Kurt seemed to collect himself, reading the desperate plea in Blaine's eyes, "Yes, yes that's what happened."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Let him go then." He turned to Blaine, "Come on, let's get you inside before you get into even more trouble."

The man who had given Blaine the brandy nudged Sebastian, "Surely a little something for the boy?"

Sebastian sighed, but nodded to his manservant, "Mr Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it?"

Blaine watched in veiled amusement as Kurt's lip curled slightly at the offer of payment. And then his tongue was working without his brain's permission, "Don't be absurd, Sebastian. I told you, I owe him my life." He smiled at Kurt, "You must come to dinner with us tomorrow evening."

Sebastian laughed cruelly, "Why not! Will you accept, Mr Hummel? You can regale us all with the thrilling tale."

Kurt eyed up Sebastian, but couldn't help but cave to Blaine's open smile, "Sure, count me in."

Sebastian smirked, "Very well then." He turned away, murmuring to the older man as he guided Blaine away, "This should be interesting."

Kurt scowled at the disgusting rich boy's back. If it wasn't for Blaine, there was no way he would have agreed. But he couldn't help it; there was just something about that boy that had snagged him, and he wasn't going to let go now.

To Be Continued...