Chapter 31

Blaine had always enjoyed driving at night. Not that he had ever driven himself, of course, but the peace of it had always been something that had soothed him. Watching the dark silhouettes of trees and blankets of shadowed fields gently shroud the car in silence, it had always settled his senses in a way that a quiet house never could. It made him feel small, part of something so much bigger, his senses stretching out into the dark with only his companions in the car to remind him that he wasn't the only person on the planet.

When they were kids, back when Blaine had only been properly diagnosed for a couple of years, before Amy, before Molly, before his family really knew what to do with a sense-overloaded boy, he had been prone to night terrors. Blaine remembered that time too keenly; the gasping, suffocating fear as his confused senses pressed down on him, inwards, clawing at his subconscious until something had to give out into a scream. At the time, Cooper had been just as much a mess as his brother, an uncontrolled, growing teen with barely settled senses, living with a constantly sparking, high ES little kid.

Blaine hadn't understood until he was older, just how much of a struggle living with him in the early years must have been for his brother. On top of spending each day at school submerged in a melting pot of teenage emotional chaos and drama, Cooper had also had to come home to Blaine, and while his brother might not be anywhere near Blaine on the scale, he was at the higher end of what was considered 'normal'.

So, in an effort to bring some level of stability to the Anderson household, Blaine's mom had started taking him for drives in the evenings when she sensed a night terror might be most likely. Both to try and avert Blaine's misery, but also to help give Cooper's senses some relief.

Blaine had only been about seven at the time, and his mom had always known when things were getting to be too much, somehow, back when he was too confused to express what was wrong. While his father had always been good at calming him, having a tighter control on projected emotions, his mom's more open nature had always meant that she had been very receptive to Blaine's moods and spinning senses.

That had all shattered, after his first empathic episode. His raw senses had turned inwards in a desperate attempt to protect what sense of self he had left. And his mom, she had always been terrified of pushing herself too close, in case whatever she did made Blaine slip further downhill. Things had never been the same, and Blaine would always regret that.

But now, driving in the quiet darkness, with Kurt on one side and Cooper on the other, Blaine could close his eyes and submerge himself in the memories of those drives, just him and his mom. If he stretched his senses out further, he could even feel his parents and Burt not far behind them in another car, their emotions shrouded by distance.

And so for this moment, Blaine let himself drift. Back to when he had been little, lying in bed with his head pounding and senses pressing, suffocating with the weight of too much. His mom would quietly slip into his room, gently taking his hands in hers and sit him up. She would bundle him in a blanket, and smile his favourite smile, her warmth and love cocooning him in a wrap of familiar comfort without the need for words. She would carry him down the stairs, and for a moment his dad and brother would be tickling at the edges of his senses.

And then she would settle him in the back seat, pop in her favourite mix tape, and just drive. Their old house had sat neatly in the suburbs, and it had never taken more than five minutes for them to get out into the quiet and the dark. And finally, Blaine had been able to relax his senses, with only his mom's quiet lulling calm and melodious soft singing to wash over him.

Blaine blinked, his eyes skimming over dim shapes and moon-cast highlights. He hadn't thought of those drives for years...

He missed the simplicity.

"Nearly there..." Blaine murmured, half to himself, unable to keep the note of anxiety from his voice. This route was one he knew well, and the Columbus Sense Clinic was barely on the outskirts on the city.

An undercurrent of panicked nerves rippled from Kurt, and Blaine grasped at the other boy's hand. Kurt smiled confidentially back, but the raw edge was still there. At Blaine's light, questioning frown, Kurt's façade cracked, and he shrugged tiredly. "I haven't been to one of these places since my mom..." Kurt's words trailed, an old sadness hanging off his unfinished sentence.

Blaine purposely tried to forget the ever-vigilant agents in the front of the car, shifting closer to Kurt's warmth, feeling the other boy sag against him. He didn't say anything; he simply opened himself up to Kurt, lending what Blaine hoped was strength and comfort.

"I was only allowed in to see her once, after they hospitalised her," Kurt said finally, his voice barely a hum above the sound of the engine. "Mom tried to persuade them not to keep us apart, and Dad fought tooth and nail, but the doctors refused. Hospital policy. She... she was really weak, near the end. But her sense control was still really good, and she was always..." Kurt swallowed thickly, but pressed on, "She was always so great with me. But a doctor found me in her room, lying next to her in bed, and flipped out. Dad had only just gone out to get coffee while Mom was asleep, and I'd only wanted to hug her... They'd known she had a son, but not how low I was..."

"Kurt..." Blaine whispered, dread creeping up his spine. He could feel the professional curiosity of the agents, listening but pretending not to, while Cooper's abject horror bloomed violet and indigo. Kurt stared resolutely forward, his eyes trained on the company issue seat covering in front of him.

"The doctor removed me from the room, and after that I was only allowed to talk to her through lead-lined glass and a microphone, like I had some sort of contagious disease that was making her sick. That was the last time I ever touched my mom, and she wasn't even awake to remember it." Kurt's voice hardened, and for a moment Blaine was caught on a wave of cold anger and determination. "I refuse to go through something like that again, to look into the eyes of someone I love through glass so thick I can't even feel the warmth of their hand pressed opposite mine."

Kurt's eyes fixed pointedly on the rear view mirror, where his glare connected with Agent Miller's, and Blaine understood why Kurt had forced himself to recount that story. "We're not out to cause you unnecessary pain, Kurt," said Agent Ryan, twisting around in his seat to look at them properly, "We're on your side."

"And if the doctors demand Kurt and Blaine's immediate separation?" Cooper asked bluntly, his voice accusing.

Agent Ryan smiled calmly, a generic smile of one used to dealing with stressed family members. "Kurt and Blaine should have been separated when we found the boys, but here they are."

Cooper's jaw clenched, mistrust welling in him as he pointed out, "You didn't answer my question."

Neither agent replied. They had already answered Cooper's question by omission.

And then they were pulling in, a night-lit building looming before them. It seemed like an age since Blaine had last been here for his check up, and yet oddly far too recently since he had been admitted following his first episode, over three years ago. He grasped Kurt's hand tightly as they got out of the car, anchoring himself.

There was a pause as they stood there, and for a moment Blaine's eyes skimmed to the darkened windows of the day clinic, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. It was gone 10pm already, which meant only the emergency intake would be open.

"I'm not sick," Blaine said reflexively. He wasn't sure if he could keep it together, even with Kurt, if they led him back to the stark hospital corridors where he had spent so much time either silent or screaming, lost in his own senses.

"No one said you were, Blaine," his dad said, coming up and lightly touched his arm, smiling encouragingly, Blaine's mom at his elbow, her eyes fixed on the building. "Burt's just parking the car. Shall we?"

Agent Miller nodded, mirroring his dad's smile without the projected emotional support, "Doctor Monroe is waiting for us in the test centre."

Blaine forced himself to relax slightly. Okay. The test centre. He could do that. Kurt squeezed his hand, and Blaine felt stronger.

They walked in a group, and Blaine tried to not feel like he was being marched to his execution. The agents took the lead, opening the door for Blaine and Kurt into an empty reception area that had the look of the aftermath of a rainbow getting into a fight with a unicorn.

"Talk about an assault on the senses..." Kurt muttered dryly. Cooper snorted.

"I guess they didn't think of runaway teenage boys when they decorated."

Blaine turned in the direction of the wry comment, suddenly feeling guilty all over again. Dr Monroe walked out from the back office, arms folded, blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun, eyes piercing as she assessed Blaine with practiced ease. Her gaze slipped to Kurt, who straightened imperceptibly, before continuing its sweep to rest on the agents. Blaine couldn't feel anything more than clear professionalism and calm from her, her emotions held in check much tighter than normal.

"You must be Dr Monroe." The agent held out his hand to shake, and Blaine felt a swoop of uncertainty in his stomach as the adults interacted, "Agent Ryan, and this is my partner, Agent Miller. I believe we spoke on the phone."

The door to the clinic clicked shut as Burt joined them, sealing them in. This was it. This was the tipping point. Blaine had come full circle, standing in a too-cheery test centre as his biology was identified and discussed over his head. Watching as the path of his life was agreed and written without his consent, based on the word of professionals, indelibly inked fact.

Suddenly he was that confused five year old again, not understanding why his mom was so angry about him playing with a stray cat, not grasping why such a natural, innocent moment had turned his life into a melting pot of anxiety, tests and abnormality.

"You doing okay?" Kurt murmured, his words barely a breath above silence, hidden under the adults' conversation, but made all the louder by the wash of love and hush of calm that lapped against Blaine's senses.

Blaine leaned into Kurt, letting go of his hand to loop an arm around his boyfriend's waist, a soft, sad smile catching his lips as he felt Kurt's arm naturally curl around him in turn. "I love you."

The words tumbled from his lips, and the midnight waves of Kurt rolled back from Blaine for a moment, leaving him on an island of solace. Kurt shook his head, pressing his forehead to Blaine's temple as he whispered fiercely, "I will always love you, and I am never saying goodbye to you. So you'd better not be saying goodbye to me." With those words Blaine was swept into the eye of Kurt's storm, and for the second time that night the world fell away in a perfect silence awash with nothing but them.

"Boys." Agent Miller's sharp rebuke cut into the moment.

Blaine opened his eyes. He hadn't even realised he had closed them. The world came trickling back, yellow blooming humour from Cooper, a damp fizzling guilt from his mom, still disbelief from his dad, and a roaring pride from Burt. The agents' emotions were mostly shrouded, but their exasperation was plain as they eyed the two of them.

Dr Monroe... she was staring at Blaine as if she had never seen him before, her wide eyes flicking between him and Kurt.

"I apologise, Doctor," Agent Ryan said. "As we discussed over the phone, the boys have been impossible to separate without risking further psychological damage to Blaine. It was an unorthodox decision but..."

"But the right one." Dr Monroe finished for him, and Blaine blinked as he realised she was projecting controlled annoyance and authority at the agent. "Now, this is what is going to happen. Final say over Blaine's ES care was signed over to the state upon his enrolment to Dalton. As such, as Blaine's registered doctor I will be taking him into the examination alone. Emily, John, Cooper - you are welcome to wait here, although this may take a while." A maelstrom of emotions from Blaine's family crashed and whistled, as restrained as they could manage as his mom, dad and brother struggled to accept the decree without protest.

It took a moment, but then his mom smiled at him, wavering but determined, "It'll be okay sweetheart, we'll be right outside."

"Wait-" began Agent Miller, but the doctor cut across her.

"Kurt, I would very much like you to join us, however Mr Hummel I do require your consent to examine your son without your presence. For Blaine's wellbeing, I can only have Kurt join us, not you as well."

Burt paused, and Blaine held his breath. But then Mr Hummel looked at Kurt and nodded, "Kurt's old enough to make his own judgements. If he wants to stick with Blaine, I ain't gonna stop him."

"Thanks Dad." Kurt smiled, gratefulness lacing his voice.

"Is that wise?" Agent Ryan asked, glancing at his partner uncertainly.

For a moment, Blaine was unsure who was going to win, such was the pull and push of silent stubbornness between his doctor and the agents.

A creeping tingle of relenting trust, and then Agent Miller sighed, "Well it's not like anything else on this case has been by the book. We'll wait out here. We've got a lot more calls to make anyway."

Dr Monroe nodded, "It's probably going to be a long night, so please make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back in around two hours with an update. Blaine, Kurt, please follow me."

A jerk of Kurt's apprehension caught at the base of Blaine's stomach, and he squeezed Kurt's waist comfortingly.

As one, both boys followed the doctor deeper into the clinic, the lead lined walls muffling their families as they were led into an exam room.

Blaine grimaced, his stomach knotting. He hadn't been in a room like this since he had first been tested.

It seemed smaller. The walls were a welcoming pale blue, warm and cool at the same time. There were no chairs, but the centre of the floor was covered in a large padded dark blue mat. Around the room were dotted drawers, boxes and crates full of a wide variety of sense-tests and toys. This was the kind of room where the psychological portion of sense level testing happened, separate from the physical examination.

"Well Blaine? Aren't you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?" Dr Monroe shucked off her white coat, hanging it on a hook as she toed off her shoes, walking to the middle of the room and kneeling down, gesturing for the two boys to join her on the mat.

Kurt was an adorable whirlpool of perplexed incredulity at his side, and it occurred to Blaine in that moment that someone as low on the scale as Kurt had probably never gone through the same sort of tests that Blaine had as a child.

Taking the lead, Blaine was relieved to finally kick off the poorly fitting shoes he had taken from the McKinley costume bin, and guided Kurt to sit on the mat opposite the woman.

"Kurt, this is my sense doctor, Dr Monroe. She's been my doctor since I was first diagnosed. Dr Monroe, this is Kurt. A lot's happened since I first mentioned him to you..." Blaine trailed off, smiling despite the situation.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Kurt." Dr Monroe held out her hand to Kurt, and for a moment Blaine didn't think Kurt was going to accept the gesture.

Defensiveness curled, and Kurt's eyes were full of cold fire as he took the doctor's hand to shake. "I'm 0.5 on the scale. In case you were wondering."

His words were a challenge, but there was an undercurrent of pride there that made Blaine's heart swell.

Dr Monroe quirked an amused, warm smile at Kurt's statement as she replied, "The question had crossed my mind, yes. I'm 3.1, if you're interested. And we all know Blaine is 4.8. Now those pointless measures are all out in the open, shall we begin?"

For a moment, Kurt was floored. Even Blaine was a little taken aback. His doctor had always had a forthright way of talking to Blaine, but she had never spoken so openly before.

And then Kurt nodded, as if the doctor had passed a test of his own.

"Where do you want to start?"

TBC