Only With Courage Will You Survive
LoKlissingr
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Only With Courage Will You Survive : Fight for Normality


M - Words: 1,998 - Last Updated: Jan 22, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 9/? - Created: Sep 29, 2011 - Updated: Jan 22, 2012
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Author's Notes: We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
I grabbed my bag off the floor, about 5 pairs of eyes on me. It's unnerving, and it pisses me the fuck off. Five of us. Five of fucking us. It's cramped here, I share a room with the other three boys, and they're more than annoying. How many times can one hear a gay joke before blowing his brains out? Okay, maybe not the right figurative saying to think, but the point is still there.

I'm still in my sling, and my ribs are still bandaged, and my hand is too. I'm afraid to unravel it and see how hideous it had become.

I sat at the kitchen table, just sitting there with my good hand in my lap. The boys are pushing each other and I'm in the cross hairs.

"Blake aren't you going to eat?" Jenna, the woman taking care of us, asked. I just shook my head. "My name is Blaine, not that hard."

"Oh sorry..." she blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I sighed heavily. "I'm getting some on my way."

"Gonna go eat with yo' boyfriend~?" one of the boys sneered, making a kissy face. I just glared at him. The door bell rang and I jumped off the seat, jogging to the door.

"Kurt!" I said, too glad to see him.

"Good morning Blaine, are you ready?" Kurt smiled, giving me a soft hug. I heard a snort from the kitchen and sigh. "Oh?" he pulled away. "Is this bad?"

"No no just they're assholes. I'm going! Be back late!" I called back.

"Have a good day at school!" Jenna called, but I was already in Kurt's car.

"She seems nice ..." Kurt gave an awkward smile.

"Yea but the rest of them are a pain in the ass," I groaned, throwing my head back. "We going to eat?" I asked, as my stomach made the dying whale sound.

"Yes I figured we'd go to the diner by school, is that alright?"

"Yea. Hey look, I appericate you not saying anything about this to anyone. I don't want everyone to know."

"You're welcome, but I think they're going to figure out once you're living with me."

"I like delaying the inevitable."

"It's not like they're going to judge you---"

"I just don't want them know----Know what? Just drop it alright?"

"Okay..."


.:o~O~o:.


We sat down in our seats for Glee club. I sat next to Blaine as usual, but this time instead of quiet hellos, the New Directions was in an uproar.

"What happened to you?"

"You had to bust your arm! We have dance rehearsals to do!"

"What happened to your hand?"

"You run into a doorknob? Or did Kurt finally snap?"

"Alright alright settle down guys," Mr. Schuester walked in, quieting everyone down. "This week's theme is Sad Songs..."

I felt Blaine unsettle in his seat. I placed a hand on his knee and gave him a reasurring smile, but he shrugged me off his knee and glowered at the smile. I sighed and leaned back, listening to Mr. Schuester explain.

"There's always a lot of emotion in songs, and we've explored a lot of them: motivation, love, happiness, inspiration. We never really explored the saddness in songs. And I know we have a lot of that. Every day with every slushie thrown at us, every name we are called, every punch, hit or shove we receive, every time one of us gets tossed in the dumpster---"

"Which I may add is becoming more and more intoratable now that the school serves pudding!" I chimed in, having spent my first period scrubbing chocolate pudding off my jacket.

"Yes," Mr. Schuester chuckled. "And we survive it. So this week, I want you guys to find a sad song that best describes you. That best describes your situation," he instructed.

I heard Blaine let out a low groan. "Great," he hissed.

"Lighten up," I whispered back. "It could be worse."

Blaine tightened his lips, obviously trying to stop himself from saying something stupid.


.:o~O~o:.


"Blaine? Can I see you for a sec?" Mr. Schuester put a hand on my good shoulder. The others were filing out, but Kurt lingered behind.

"Alone Kurt," Mr. Schuester said. Kurt sighed obnoxiously and walked on to his next class.

"I'm going to be late..."

"I'll write you a note."

"SO what's this deal then," I leaned against one of the purple pianos, the one that had magically set itself aflame during my Carlton dance.

"I heard about what happened---"

"I told Kurt not to tell anyone!" I growled, slamming my fist on the piano, causing a musical twang.

"Kurt didn't tell me, Carole did. And for the record, I should have realized sooner."

"If it's about that stupid thing at dance rehearsal God it was one time."

"No, it wasn't. It's more than that. But look, I'm not here to lecture. I just want you to know I'm here to talk if you need me."

"No sending me to Ms. Pillsbury?" I chuckled dryly, glaring at the floor.

"You want to keep it on the downlow, I hear ya. I figured going to see Ms. Pillsbury everyday might get people suspicious. Staying late to talk to you singing teacher isn't."

I lightened my death glare on the floor and look up at him, my eyes sad and tired. "Th-thanks..."

"Don't mention it. You're a good kid, I want to make sure you realize that. Here," he handed me a piece of paper folded up. "It's my cellphone. You can call or text me or anything at anytime."

"Th-thanks Mr. Schue," I repeated, because I really have nothing else to say. I appericate his care, but phoning a teacher is kind of weird. "I-I better get going..." I said, gathering my bag.

"Okay kid, I'll see you later."

"Bye Mr. Schue." I waved as I walked out of the door.


"So what did Mr. Schuester want?" Kurt asked, as we left the school. We hopped in his car and drove off back to his house.

"Just wanted me to know I could talk to him."

"O-Oh! I swear I didn't say---"

"I know," I smiled, putting my hand over his on the steering wheel. "And thanks. I'm sorry I was kind of a douche today."

"It's fine. I know you're going through a lot. I-I'm sorry for not being supportive---"

"Totally. You're the worst boyfriend. I mean, you haven't done anything for me. Not save my ass, not have your family go through tedious training sessions so that I can live with you, not waking up extra early to drive me to school, not staying up for me all night in the hospital," I rolled my eyes, laughing softly. "Babe, you're doing more than you have to."

"No. I doing what just what I---You called me babe," he smiled like a little kid. I couldn't help it and laughed hard, burning my ribs.

"What?" He blushed.

"That was one of your more adorable moments," I stroked his cheek.

"I do try, Blainers," he smiled, moving his face with my hand.

"Oh look who's using them cute names now," I teased.

"Heh, I'm just glad you're in a better mood now," he blushed, concentrating on the road.

"Yea well if I don't joke around I'll just wallow in my self pity," I shrugged.

"I didn't mean---"

"I know I know no one ever means," I rolled my eyes.

"...Sorry Blaine."

"It's whatever," I shrugged again.


.:o~O~o:.


"So what song are you going to choose for this week?" I asked Blaine. I was laying across my bed on my stomach, swinging my feet up. Kurt sat on my floor against my bed, close to my face.

"I dunno what about you? Another amazing musical number?"

"I was thinking more rock----"

"What? Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, not only not doing a musical, but going to do probably the straightest a musical genre can go?" Blaine gave me a look of shook, mocking me.

"Oh ha ha. SO funny. Reaaally. Fine, I won't tell you what song."

"No no no tell me," he laid his head back, smiling.

"Nope."

"Please?" he stuck out his lower lip.

"...Oh fine. I'm undecided between Make it Stop by Rise Against, or Wake Me Up When September Ends, ya know by Green Day."

Blaine looked as if he was going to choke. "What? Not only are you straying off the path, you're going to attempt to sing Rise Against, the punk band that screams---"

"There's no screaming in this song."

"Okay. A band who's voice is about twenty octaves lower than yours."

"Have you ever heard the song?"

"Huh? Oh uh no."

I slid off the bed and walked over to my laptop. Opening up Youtube, I typed in the song. "There." I clicked on the link. Tom McIlrath pumped into the speakers.

Blaine nodded his head along, the song had entranced him. "It's nice. Nicer than their other songs," he chuckled.

"Just listen..." I smiled, sitting next to him on the floor, leaning against his good arm. The song talked to us, telling us it's little story.

The cold river washed him away,
But how could we forget?
The gatherings saw candles, but not their tongues.
And too much blood has flown from the wrists,
Of the children shamed for those they chose to kiss.
Who will rise to stop the blood?
We're calling for,
Insisting on, a different beat, yeah.
A brand new song.

"Oh," Blaine smirked. "That's different." He pulled his arm around my shoulder and gave me a light kiss on the cheek

I smiled and continued to sing along. "Whoa, whoa...Whoa, whoa ... whoa, whoa ..."

Make it stop,
Let this end.
This life chose me, I'm not lost in sin.
But proud I stand of who I am,
I plan to go on living.

"Very nice. But I still think it's too low for you," he teased.

"Hey! It's well in my range!" I nudged his side, but winced when he cringed, putting a hand to his ribs. "S-sorry I keep forgetting!"

"It's alright. Who needs ribs?" he teased again, lightly tickling my side. I giggled and wiggled, but his arm was held tight around me.

"Okay!---Okay!---Sorry!" I said between laughs.

"Mhmmm okay," he smiled, kissing my cheek again, then moving to my mouth. He pulled away but I cupped his face, pulling him back, deepening the kiss. He shifted his hips, smiling into the kiss. I pulled away and smirked.

"That was a pleasant surprise," he smiled.

"I am capable of initiating Blaine!" I said, swatting his arm lightly.

"One kiss does not make you the initiator," he cooed. I gave him a pout and grab him the cold shoulder. "Awwe don't be like that."

"No! You're words hurt Blaine Cortlin 'Warbler' Anderson!" I tried to sound serious between my giggles.

"Yea well---" Blaine was cut off by the house phoning ringing.

"I got it!" Finn called through the house. We heard thundering up the stairs and Finn appeared in my doorway. "Blaine? S'or you."

Blaine groaned and threw his head back. "Uggh okay gimme the phone please." Finn tossed it to him. "Omf ... not like that ..." He put the phone to his ear. "Yea yea I know," he said to the voice on the phone. I looked to the clock and the time shone 8:15pm. I sighed, it was just pass Blaine's 'curfew', set up by his foster caretaker. Regardless of the fact Blaine was a fullgrown boy. He finally hung up the phone and matched my sigh. "Can you drive me back?"

I nodded and went to pull my shoes on. "I'll be back soon," I told Finn as Blaine and I walked out the door.


.:o~O~o:.


We were on the way to this fucking foster house where these fucking foster kids and that woman were. I fiddled with my hoodie pullstring, dealing with the silent ride.

"Kurt?" I asked.

"Mm-hm?"

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked.

"Sure!"

"Well, since my parents aren't at my house anymore, do you think we can go tomorrow after school and see if anything of mine is left?"

"Of course Blainers!" Kurt smiled.

"And maybe I can keep some stuff at your house? There's not a---"

"You don't have to explain yourself Blaine. Yes we can," he reassured. We pulled up to the home. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he smiled.

"See ya in the morning," I smiled back, giving him a light kiss on that smile. "I love you..."

"I love you too Blainers," he smiled as I opened the car door and walked back to the house.

End Notes: Make It Stop (September's Children) is owned by Rise Against.

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Not bad, not bad. Looking forward to more from you.

Thank you! c: I'll be uploading the next part soon!