Sept. 9, 2013, 9:17 a.m.
A Picture for a Poet: Chapter 15
E - Words: 2,040 - Last Updated: Sep 09, 2013 Story: Complete - Chapters: 21/21 - Created: Nov 16, 2012 - Updated: Sep 09, 2013 141 0 0 0 1
After the terror came regret, but Blaine didn't have the time to curse himself for answering the phone instead of going to the history section to pick up the reservation. The store was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the passing traffic outside and the quaking of the floorboards as someone rounded the shelves. Blaine stood frozen as two masked figures strode across the room towards the doors and windows, flipping the sign to closed and drawing the blinds they barely spared him a glance.
Heart pounding with a harsh rush of adrenaline he made a break for the shelves desperate to find Maggie, but before he'd even managed to clamber out from behind the desk one of them pulled him back. "Let me go! Maggie! Maggie!" He struggled in their grasp, eventually managing reaching an arm around his assailants neck to wrench the mask off. The man grunted and growled in frustration as Blaine's blunt fingernails scraped at the exposed skin of his forearms and he twisted in his grasp. The man cried out as Blaine's elbow connected with his jaw and he broke free, stumbling into a bookshelf and almost knocking it over with the force of his fall. "Maggie!" He shouted but she didn't reply, all he could hear were Miss Carmetta's sobs and frightened mutterings above the angry advances of the two men.
Screaming, he was thrown back into the books, face blooming with pain as a fist plowed into his cheekbone. With a dull aching thud his head hit the unforgiving wood. Vision blurring he squinted against the blur trying to make out the faces of the shifting shapes in front of him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head from the blackness, and the ringing in his ears but it was futile. His eyes closed and his legs betrayed him, letting him fall to the floor in an unconscious heap.
~*~
There was a pounding in his head that far surpassed any hangover he had ever experienced. Muffled sounds and blurred figures clouded his senses until he could decipher his surroundings. "Blaine? Blaine? Oh god please don't be dead please." He heard Miss Carmetta's voice plead over and over. He tried to sit upright and squinted his eyes shut as the world around him began to tilt. Upon opening his eyes again his vision was clearer.
"M'not dead m'fine Miss Carmetta please." He said gently, swallowing back his panic as he surveyed the room. Scrambling against the hardwood floor he attempted to stand but found he was bound to one of the heavy armchairs at the front of the shop, they both were, with the exception of Maggie. Maggie who was lying limp on the ground, body twisted strangely and her chest rising and falling sharply with ragged breaths. Tears threatened to fall at the discovery she was still alive, relief calming every thought if but for a moment no longer than a fraction of a second.
A loud crash sounded from the shelves and Blaine whipped his head around just quick enough to see the whole stack fall as the two men laughed. They strode down the aisles, ripping books off the shelves, tearing out pages and breaking bindings, beautiful books old and new, first editions and reprints being destroyed for what seemed to be no reason.
Blaine's skin burned hot with rage, the tears that had once again clouded his vision as he watched as his best friends' life work was mindlessly destroyed. "Stop for fuck sake! Stop! We'll give you whatever you want." At the sound of Blaine's cracked and hate riddled voice the two strode back into the room. "Oh look," a man with greasy black hair and yellowing teeth snarled "pretty boy's wide awake." He laughed threateningly but his companion didn't join him, simply crouched in front of Blaine and stared, piercing blue eyes boring into his. Unlike his partner he was classically handsome, in his early forties and greying with dark blonde hair. He reached out a hand, the fingertips of which just barely brushed Blaine's cheek before he jerked away, wrists burnt by the rope binding them.
"Don't fucking touch me!" He shouted, glaring at the man and breathing heavily. The man smiled, blue eyes kind and unnerving. "Hush precious," he said, voice sonorous and soft, "There's simply something somewhere in this quaint little store that I want."
"You can take anything as long as you let us go." Blaine replied quickly "What is it you want?"
"You mean besides you beautiful?" The man smiled and Blaine reeled back in disgust. "James, was a dear friend of my uncle's and stole something very valuable from him a long time ago. You see they were old friends, and James visited us often in England. He did some business with a well known Irish family here in New York but I - want - it - back. It's a diamond a very old, very special diamond an-"
"I know where it is." Blaine interrupted "untie me and I'll show you."
"Do we look like idiots to you?" The man with the vile teeth asked scathingly but Blaine continued to direct his words to the blue eyed man in front of him. "Untie me and you can have it, you can leave without a scene," Blaine added "just let the girls go."
"Blaine..." Miss Carmetta began quietly but Blaine looked at her sharply.
"Fine, precious. Show me, now."
~*~
Blaine stumbled up from where he was restrained and headed straight for the room in the back where the rare books were kept. They didn't have many but there was one in particular that he knew bore the diamond the men were searching for. As he lifted the lid of its case he handled it carefully, grimacing as the wicked looking man tore it away from him and took out a pocket knife. "Please don't cut the stone out here," he begged "just take it with you, it'll be easier to hide."
"And you don't want one of your precious books to be destroyed in front of you, how sweet." The man with the blue eyes said, snaking a hand into Blaine's hair and tugging. "You know you really are quite charming for such a young man. Classically beautiful. Educated, eloquent, elegant. What a treasure, what a find, what a-"
The man was cut off from his saccharine tirade when Blaine's phone began to ring. He reached into his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. It was Kurt. "Oh hello, is this your lover precious?" Blaine bit his lip and looked steadfastly at the ceiling, cursing the hot tears that continued to roll down his grazed cheeks. "Aww I can see he is, and handsome too, a little older maybe, just your type." He whispered hotly, nose skimming his neck and Blaine stayed silent against the ever tightening grip on his hair. "Well I can tell you are ever the gentleman precious so this is where our romance dies."
In a movement so sharp the man smashed Blaine's head against the display case causing it to shatter and Blaine to fall to the floor. With a kiss to his cheek the blonde man and his companion left. The last thing Blaine saw was his phone, flashing red with the message:
One missed call: Kurt Hummel <3
~*~
Blaine couldn't quite keep his eyes open. Somehow he knew his phone is was ringing and he longed to pick up. To call for help and to get them all to safety. Part of him just wanted to call Kurt, to tell him he's sorry, to tell him to come and take the pain in his head and his ribs away, to tell him that he loves him and that it doesn't matter if Kurt can't say it back it doesn't change anything. He slipped in and out of consciousness, drifting from periods of intense pain to periods of time spent in a sweet abyss of numbness.
He wanted to call Tina and tell her she's one of the best friends he's ever had, call his brother and thank him for being there even if at times it had felt like he'd abandoned him. Call his parents and tell them that he forgives them, and that he knows they love him. His body seemed to feel colder in every lucid moment that passed, he'd felt it before, known what it meant then and now. His eyes closed but this time they didn't open again for a long time.
~*~
"Hey this is Blaine Anderson I can't answer right now-"
"Because I'm sucking his dick-"
"Kurt for fuck sake!"
"-I can't answer right now because I'm busy-"
"-more like getting busy..."
"Shut up! Oh my god you little..." BEEP.
"Hi Blaine it's Kurt again, look I know I must look insane seeing as I've probably left a dozen messages already but I'm just worried okay? I called the shop a few times but no one answered and there was that crash and the line went dead. Or maybe you just hung up I don't know but just let me know you're alright? But anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not gonna give up, I want this, I want you. I've known that all along and I just panicked. I know I keep finding ways to screw this up but I want to be with you Blaine, I want to wake up to see you lying next to me every morning with that sweet lazy smile of yours. I've fucked it all up and if this is the end then I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it, Blaine Anderson-" BEEEEP.
~*~
"All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust."
"Step back please! Step back for God's sake people!" An officer yelled sternly at the gathering crowd. The narrow street was jammed with vehicles and pedestrians, some trying to get a glimpse of the scene up ahead whilst others were slowed down by police cars and an ambulance. Kurt, struggling against the current of passer bys ran straight for the police tape and ducked under. Another officer pulled him back by the arm and Kurt hurriedly tried to explain but somewhere the ‘the love of my life works here' and the ‘what's going on, is he okay? Is Maggie okay?' got lost in translation and all that could be heard across the chaotic din was Kurt's pleading, desperate voice, begging the man to just let him through.
Amongst the commotion it was hardly noticeable when the door to Atkinson's Books swung open and two occupied gurneys were wheeled out. Time seemed to slow as the paramedics hurried past and he caught a glimpse of him. Lying prone on the gurney closest to him was Blaine, face bruised and cut, his hair matted with blood. "That's him! God fucking damn it just let me through!" Kurt shouted as loudly as he could, attracting the attention of the attending paramedic. "Family?" She shouted back and Kurt shook his head, feeling hopeless as his eyes stay fixed on Blaine's lifeless body being loaded into the back of the ambulance. "Boyfriend?" She asked and he once again shook his head, tears falling to darken the concrete below "No I, I messed up. But now I know, I'm in love with him."
"Good enough for me." She yelled as she motioned to the officer holding him to let him go and hopped into the ambulance. Kurt scrambled in and sat down next to the gurney, taking Blaine's limp hand gingerly in his. "What's his name? We couldn't manage to get much out of the other lady at the scene." She said checking his vitals.
"B-Blaine Anderson," he replied, "is he- is he gonna be okay?"
"We found him on his own in the back room. She told us she went to give the intruders what they wanted in exchange for their safety and not his own. She heard a crash and that's all she knew." She mentioned distractedly.
"Sounds like Blaine alright," Kurt laughed bitterly "stupid, brave, self sacrificing asshole." The paramedic looked at him curiously with scrutinising dark brown eyes. "Would you love him if he wasn't a ‘stupid, brave, self sacrificing asshole'?"
"No."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
"I've never been so scared."
"He's a fighter sir, have faith in him if nothing else."