Follow Me
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Follow Me: Chapter 11


E - Words: 5,035 - Last Updated: Dec 23, 2014
Story: Complete - Chapters: 18/? - Created: Aug 15, 2014 - Updated: Aug 15, 2014
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Last weekend I had to watch some of my students, my kids, lift the coffin of another one of my students… another one of my kids. To say it was difficult to watch would be an understatement, and when they opened the casket to reveal her face… reconstructed since it had been crushed, I was officially done for being able to hold back my emotions. This is a girl who came so far in the past three years. I work in an alternative school, which means my kids come from all walks of life but often have mitigating factors in their ability to succeed. This sweetheart came in during grade 9, a fury of drama and general migraine inducing behaviour…. but she grew into a leader, an academic, a brilliant woman. It was a moose for those who wonder. She was driving with a friend and it came out of nowhere, going through the window of the vehicle and right into her. People joke about moose in Canada, but everytime I hear about one its because its caused a major accident. I hate the fuckers, even moreso now.


This weekend I had a meltdown. Between the combination of my masters degree, a leadership cohort Im a part of, my kids being… well… kids, my husband being constantly on the road due to his union position, the insanity of my new workplace (which has some of the most selfish, demanding, whiney, and unprofessional people Ive ever had to coexist with - and no, those are not the students Im talking about), and every other little thing that happened, I was looking forward to FINALLY having a chance to write, only to end up fighting with my computer. It was the icing on the proverbial cake to say the least.


Anyhow, thanks for reading all that, which had absolutely nothing to do with this chapter. It was just me getting out my feelings and my pain. Kids in an Outreach school are more akin to my own kids than students in a regular school, for various reason, and just like parents shouldnt have to bury their kids, teachers shouldnt have to bury their students.




Kurt really didnt like Blaines plan, or at least what Blaine considered a plan. It resembled something more akin to disordered proposal including leaving the compound together with the bare minimum, flying them both over the border, and finding the most habitable, most remote piece of land in Northern Canada they could get to. Kurt was quick to point out all the flaws in Blaines idea. Kurt wasnt even sure he could fly again and there was no space in the compound to test it out, the border, as the news had shown, was heavily guarded and included anti-aircraft weaponry that could easily take down Kurt, and Kurt hated the cold. He loved a nice looking sweater - but only for the purpose of fashion, not function. He had worn enough heavy sweaters to cover up his wings in days past after all, and he certainly didnt want to sign on to have to wear them day in, day out, and probably in layers the way Blaine was talking about getting close to the Arctic.


What Kurt did like though was that Blaine was tired of doing nothing. Like Kurt, he was tired of being stuck underground and sharing everything. Tired of having no personal space to speak of. Tired of being trapped in a concrete underworld in order to grasp at the last bits of freedom their kind was getting. Tired of the irony of that last statement because, despite being out of the hands of the government and the military, they were still essentially in a prison.


Kurt finally grasped the idea Sartre had been trying to present in the readings he had been forced to go through in English class before his life had changed. Hell was other people. Specially the accumulation of smells, lack of privacy, noise, and personal drama that came with other people.


"The news shows clearly what is happening to metahumans trying to cross the border into Canada Blaine… thats not the way to go." Kurt whispered over as they sat in the ever busy cafeteria and poked at something that was supposed to be oatmeal the morning after Blaine had come up with the idea.


Blaine ate the gray mush, licking his lips over to ensure he contained all the little flakes trying to escape his mouth in their own bid for freedom in a way that made Kurt have to adjust the way he was seating because every time he saw Blaines tongue, his dick seemed to wake up.


"Well Mexico is so far…"


"What if we didnt cross any borders Blaine? Thats where it seems theyre getting the majority of metahumans that arent fighting back. What if theres a remote place in the States we could go to?"


It cause Blaine pause, and again he ate another scoop of the watery gray stuff on his plate that Kurt had too but was ignoring. Kurt had prepared for this moment of reflection though, and continued speaking.


"I did some research yesterday when I went to check my email. Theres remote places in the country. A lot of them are still far off, in places like Nevada and Arizona and Utah… but theres a few that are closer, and all wed have to worry about is getting there safely."


"Like… where?"


From his pocket Kurt pulled out a piece of lined paper he had made notes on and began offering Blaine his findings.


"Okay… Nebraska has an area called the Sandhills where residents are few and far between because of some ancient homesteading act that allows people to own massive areas of land… which they cant do much with."


"Where would we hide there?"


"Well we could dig up something…"


"Next?"


Kurt sighed and continued on. "Yellowstone National Park has -"


"Tourists. Hikers. Wildlife guides."


With a press of his lips together, Kurt mentally crossed that off his list. "Moving on…. Oregon has -"


"Oregon is on the west coast Kurt. Thats a huge trek…"


"All of these would be a trek Blaine… as would crossing any border. But we need to pick a destination so we can plan that trip."


Blaine sighed, setting down his plastic utensil as he rubbed one of his temples and looked Kurts way, "Alright. Go on."


"Western Washington. Theres this area thats just all desert like I guess. Looking at some of the photos Im even thinking there could be some caves for us to stay in."


"Caves?" Blaines furry caterpillar eyebrows bunched up at that. "Kurt Hummel would be willing to stay in a cave?"


"Well it cant be any worse than how were living now…" Kurt hissed under his breath, wrinkling up his nose towards the sea of people around them.


Blaines eyes followed his own, skimming over the crowd until they fell back onto Kurt. "Yeah. I guess youre right there."


"No. Hes absolutely wrong there." A sharp voice interrupted, making both Kurt and Blaine snap their heads to the left in unison just as Santana plopped herself down inbetween them into a chair she had pulled away from wherever she had been sitting before. "If youre going to Washington, you want Eastern Washington. Huge mountain range and protected park there. Close to the ocean so you can catch your own food, and that can be used as an escape to many other places."


Kurt and Blaine remained silent for a moment, glancing around to see if anyone else was listening into Santanas voice, which she wasnt keeping above the whisper theyd been using.


"How long have you been listening in?" Kurt finally asked, nose pinched together with wrinkling at the top as he glowered toward the woman who had already proven, in the short time hed known her, to have no sense of tact.


"Long enough to know that Brittany and I are in. Im going to go loco on people if I have to stay in this dump much longer."


"You just cant invite yourself along." Kurt hissed, dropping his chin down and squaring off his shoulders as he glared Santanas way.


"Look. Brits a math mastermind. She says theres a sweet spot when it comes to group numbers. Look at the news even. Pairs? Solo groups? They get caught, so do big groups like the ones all cramped together down here. She says 4-8 people. Its to your advantage to get a couple more people around so we can watch each others backs."


"I understand you two want to get out of here, just like we do Santana, but we barely know one another, and I dont know if youd be a help or hindrance to us…" Blaine uttered, looking at Kurt as he spoke in that way that told Kurt he was checking out his aura.


"Oh please. The only reason Brits a level one is because they dont realize how useful her mathematical capabilities are, and I can breath underwater which means I can ensure were stocked on sushi dinners."


Kurt and Blaine looked at one another, and Kurt wished he could read Blaine the way Blaine could read him. If he had to guess, by the way Blaines eyes locked on his own and widened slightly, Blaine was silently asking Kurt what he thought.


"Blaine and I have each others backs." Kurt said as he looked away from his boyfriend and back to Santana, ending the statement with a determined nod. It was the right call. While Kurt liked Brittany, he didnt know if she was capable enough to handle everything that was out there and he certainly didnt know Santana enough to trust her with their lives.


"Nope. What happens when you need to rest? You could alternate sleep schedules, but that means you limit how long youre on the road for. What happens when one of you misses something and it ends up in both of you dead? You need more eyes and ears out there."


God. She was determined.


Again Blaine looked at Kurt with that ever inquisitive puppy dog face, making Kurt sigh and rub his thumbs into his temples. "Will you leave us to our lunch if I say well consider it?"


"Thats all we ask." Santana said, a smirk crossing over her face as she slid out of her seat and stepped away, hips bopping from side to side in a walk that Kurt had long ago figured out women used when they were proud of themselves.


Once she was out of earshot, Blaine poked back at the food on his plate and murmured. "I think it might be a good idea."


With a snap of his head, Kurt looked back at Blaine, eyebrows shooting up off his forehead as he hissed, "Youre kidding right?"


Blaine shrugged his shoulders, not meeting Kurts eyes as he looked at his plate, unwilling to make eye contact. "She has a point… and shes clearly been thinking the same thing if she has an idea of where to go…"


"God… " Kurt rubbed his thumbs deeper into the sides of his head, trying to ward off the headache this was causing. "... you have noticed shes crazy right?"


"Yeah… but a good crazy." Blaine uttered, accompanied by another small shrug. "Her aura is good too."


"Blaine. No offense. But youre inclined to think most people are good."


He got a chuckle out of that in response and then a grin. "Why would I take offense? Thats a good thing right? Always thinking the best of people?"


"Until they take advantage of you anyhow." Kurt huffed out with a shake of his head.


"She wont Kurt…. shes just as desperate as I am when it comes to taking care of the one I love."


Looking back at his plate, Kurt stared at the meager pile of meat, bread roll, and from-the-can corn. Desperation wasnt a good thing, but it was still what was driving Kurt and Blaine to escape, so how could he judge Santana for the same desperation? Trust was the issue here. How could he trust her to watch his and Blaines backs? Blaine might say she had a good aura, but what did that even mean?


"Lets just sleep on it… okay?"


Blaine nodded, quickly going back to eating the flavorless meal before him while Kurt continued to pick at it, internally weighing the pros and cons of having Santana and Brittany join them.


The rest of the day went as per usual. Shuffling through the metahuman zombies that crowded the compound to wait in line for a computer to use in the library so he could check his email and the news reports, waiting impatiently for Blaine to return from a grocery run, reading a book he had borrowed about tourist attractions in Washington state, and then dinner, the news in the common room, and finally - getting ready to go to bed.


Karaoke night hadnt happened in weeks.


"Anything come in via email?" Blaine asked as they showered in adjacent stalls. Fewer people used the showers at night, and while Kurt had a harder time feeling awakened in the morning without a shower, he preferred the comparative privacy they got in the evening.


"No… and my dads website hasnt been updated in weeks either. He usually has a new promotion up every couple of weeks…. He was so proud when I showed him how to operate that thing on his own. Dad loves posting on there… or, at least, he did." Kurt murmured, thinking back to the orange and black design that still featured a coupon Burt had made two months ago and was now expired.


"Hes probably just… busy…." Blaine uttered unconvincingly.


"Blaine, I may not be able to read emotions, but I can at least tell when youre trying to make me feel better about my dads apparent lack of existence."


There was a long, low sigh from the shower stall beside Kurts that echoed against the walls, a counter to the splattering of the faulty shower system that seemed to either have too much pressure or not enough. After a particularly hard splutter of water, Blaine turned off his tap and exited his stall, towel bound around his waist as he moved to the counter with fogged over mirrors, all the while not saying a thing.


Kurt took a little longer to complete his own washing routine, and longed for the days of white feathers which gave away the presence of dirt easily. With the black ones that now adorned his wings, he had to work a little harder to ensure he was completely clean - though the only source of filth in the compound now was the other residents and his own sweat borne out of discomfort.


When Kurt did leave his shower stall, he came up behind Blaine and hugged his arms gently around the other boys waist snugly. "Sorry. I know youre just trying to make me feel better."


Blaines hands fell on top of Kurts, holding him there as he exhaled softly. "Yeah… I just… Im just worried too - on your behalf."


"You dont have to be. Im a big boy."


"Oh. That I know." Blaine mused, looking back at Kurt against him in the mirror and making eye contact with the reflection of Kurts eyes. "Speaking of which… maybe I could… you know… "ease your tension" tonight?"


It was meant to be sultry, playful, suggestive. Blaine intended to spark desire in Kurt, but instead of turning him on, all that happened was Kurt barking out a laugh and letting his hands drop from Blaines side in order to wrap around his own waist as he worked to contain his giggles.


Blaines body loosened a bit as he turned to face Kurt, eyes narrowing and lips pursing as he regarded Kurt with his eyebrows squished together, and while Kurt felt guilty about leaving Blaine in that confused state, he couldnt seem to stop the flow of chuckles that were erupting from within him.


"Am I that bad at this stuff?" Blaine finally asked when Kurt was catching his own breath.


"Oh… oh god Blaine… no."


"Remember. I can tell when youre lying."


Kurt rolled his eyes and went to stand aside Blaine at the counter, grabbing a brush to run through his hair. "Okay. Fine. Youre not bad, but you are adorable. Come on… "ease my tension"? Youre the only guy Ive ever met that had a hard time talking about sex and using slang that doesnt sound like it came out of some horrible romance novel meant for middle aged women."


"Yeah… well… youre one to talk."


Kurt let the blush rise in his cheeks, looking at Blaines eyes again through the reflection in the mirror and grinning at the sight. He was no better and they both knew it, but at least they were a matched pair in that sense.


They walked side by side back to their room, having to walk one in front of the other when they entered into the land of cots. Kurt hated having to walk through people sleeping, reading, and talking. It was as if he was unintentionally infringing on their privacy, and it made him uncomfortable.


Though not as uncomfortable as the sight that met him when he and Blaine entered their room.


"Hey guys! Just getting settled!" Brittany chirped from what looked like a makeshift bed on the floor beside their own.


"Oh no… no, no, no, no, NO." Kurt huffed, stepping ahead of Blaine and wagging a finger at Santana who, up until that point, had been fluffing a pillow. "You can not, WILL NOT, just invade our space."


"Oh come on wing-thing. Youre worried that you cant trust us but what better way to test that then by sharing a room? Plus, do poor Brit a favor… Weve had to deal with that old hedgehog guy staring at us at night and being not too subtle about jerking off at the sight of us. We know we wont have to worry about that with you two."


Brittany nodded enthusiastically beside Santana where she was crouched on the ground, while Kurt tried to put the thought of anyone jerking themselves off so publically out of his mind. "No. This is OUR space. OUR sanctuary."


"Please Kurt? Itll be like a sleepover!" Brittany cooed softly, batting her eyes up at both Kurt and Blaine, the latter of which had been annoyingly silent throughout.


"It will not be. I need my space… Blaine… please…" Kurt snapped his head back, trying to will Blaine into speaking up by staring at him intently.


"... Santana does have a point about the trust thing Kurt… and I really wouldnt want to be responsible for putting them back out there to be oogled…." Blaine uttered softly, eyes pulling away from Kurts as his voice got softer.


So he was outnumbered.


Kurt threw his arms up in a gesture of defeat and wasted no time crawling into the bed, though took the side against the wall so he could put as much space between himself and the girls as was possible.


Blaine followed him, and then there was a chorus of good nights passed between them all which Kurt made a point not to contribute to, and the light was turned off.


At this point in the night, Blaine and Kurt usually shared some kisses and cuddles before falling asleep, but despite Blaines movements towards him, Kurt was definitely not comfortable having the girls listen into the sounds of their lips pressed against one another, and after a moment, and with a pathetic sigh, Blaine gave up and went about going to sleep.


A sleepover Brittany has said…. Kurt had never had a sleepover. His wings made it impossible for it to be considered. Granted, he had never been invited to one either because he was such an outcast even without the wings, so he never had to worry about it before. The closest he had gotten to a sleepover before was when he and his mom camped out in a sheet fort in the living room back when he was six.


"Oh… Santana…."


Kurts ears burned up and he stared straight ahead, face to face with Blaine whose cheeks were pushed out towards him, the result of one of his arms being wrapped around the pillow and the other stretched out on top of his head. He looked like the version of himself that Kurt had seen in those family photographs hanging on the walls of the farmhouse - a younger, softer looking Blaine; too adorable for words.


"Mmm… Oh….. you think theyre asleep?"


Kurt should have spoken up; yelled to the rooftop that no, he was most definitely not asleep and certainly not willing to listen to their feminine moans of pleasure, but between how uncomfortable he was with the sleeping arrangement as it was, and the disgust he felt, the words never seemed to form on his lips and instead he was subjected to an ever increasing choir of moaning and overuse of the word oh in rapid succession.


Then it got worse.


A buzzing noise began and Brittany gleefully whispered the question to Santana.


"You found batteries?!"


"I told you I would."


Kurt became ever aware of his body. He kept himself perfectly frozen, not willing to make the slightest of rustlings lest it inform the pair that he was awake and listening - just as bad, if not worse, as the pervert they had complained about earlier. His stomach was forming knot after knot, seemingly in time with every groan, every whimper, and every gasp they let out, and it wasnt until he felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead that he could glance at Blaine again without worrying about the sound of his eyes moving giving him up as awake.


How Blaine was managing to sleep through the noise was beyond Kurt. Sure he had an arm stretched up and over his head, squishing his ear down on top and the other ear pressed into the pillow. Maybe Blaine had gotten used to the noises around the compound. There was no shortage of noises in the hallway at any time of the night, and true silence was rare with all the sniffling, coughing, snoring, and sleep induced murmurings. It was all made worse with Kurts heightened sense of hearing though, and at this moment, he hated that particular gift.


Together the girls were moaning and writhing together against whatever terrible buzzing toy they had. Kurt could hear the smallest of their gasps and the schlip-schlop of wet skin against the device. To occupy himself, he tried to think of synonyms for gross, but everytime he recalled one he was mentally interrupted by one of them calling out for god.


Kurt was really beginning to despise Blaine for being able to sleep through this. If anything, he should have woken up to endure this torment along with Kurt. Instead he was clearly having a good dream because his lips kept twitching up into an unconscious grin.


Finally the girls finished up, and then Kurt had to grimace through the sounds of them wiping themselves down (and he really didnt want to think about what they used to wipe since there wasnt any tissue to be found in their room), sharing more kisses, and, finally, settling down to sleep.


Kurt was only able to fall asleep about an hour after that, consoling himself with the thought that if the girls were okay with doing that right beside himself and Blaine, they must clearly trust them.


The next morning, Kurt woke to the pleasant sensation of being kissing along the jawline. For that moment he forgot all about the girls inviting themselves into their room and what they had done when they thought Blaine and Kurt had been sleeping, and moaned softly as he pressed his skin against Blaines lips.


But as soon as he had done that, he remembered, and snapped his head back almost hard enough to induce whiplash.


"Where are they?!"


"The girls?" Blaine hummed, moving back in to ply his lips back to Kurt, though against his neck this time. "They went to shower."


The tension holding his muscles together in tight bands flooded out, and he returned Blaines hum with one of his own, murmuring nonsense the closer Blaine got to the sweet spot under his Adams apple. Blaine was magical with his mouth, and Kurt had already had many a fantasy about what else he could do with those lips and that tongue aside from the making out they did. Letting him work that magic on Kurt was one of the best parts of Kurts day, and made everything seem a little brighter in the dank, gray underground building they were existing within.


So, of course, there was a knock on the door.


"Who is it?" Blaine yelled, head spinning up and away from Kurts neck.


"Santana! You should tell your boy to come see the news!"


"Ill see it in the evening Santana!" Kurt growled, head already falling back on the pillow in exaggerated defeat.


"No. YOU need to see it NOW! Your last name IS Hummel right?"


Yes, his last name was Hummel. Kurt Hummel, son of... BURT Hummel. Kurt shot right up out of bed and slipped on the closest pair of pants he could find, not even waiting until he had gotten a tank top over his head before exiting the room with Blaine on his heels as they rushed to the common area.


As usual, people were gathered around the television. If they werent lumbering through the halls like zombies, they certainly were sitting in front of the television like them.


"... Again, reporting from Capitol Hill, were here with a group of pro-metahuman human activists. Aside from a press release from the government saying that those involved with this rally are the friends and family of metahumans and therefore should not be trusted, there has been no official word from the president or his office. We just spoke with the father of metahuman-at-large, Kurt Hummel, who had this to say…."


The screen snapped from the bored looking reporter to his dad. Kurts dad. There, alive and well, and on the screen. Closer than Kurt had been to him in weeks. He was alive, and he was fighting on Kurts behalf….


"My son wouldnt hurt a damned fly, but because hes a metahuman he cant go to school, gets accused of some heinous crime that the cops wont even consider looking at from another perspective, and has to stay on the run in fear of his life. He didnt choose to be a metahuman. He certainly didnt want it…. and its the same with every other family member of a metahuman Ive talked to out here. The only reason theyre running away or fighting back is because theyve been pushed into a corner, and you know that any sane human would do the same. Were tired of worrying about our kids. We want them safe. We want them home. Look at our history for goodness sake. We persecuted native americans, we persecuted black people, people of different cultures, religions, and ethnicities, people who have different sexual orientations…. when is it going to stop? When are we going to stop drawing lines between people because of things they cant change?"


By the time the screen flicked back to the reporter, Kurt was right in front of the television, Blaines hand on his shoulder. His dad… his dad has been right there…


"Mr. Burt Hummel is considered one of the de facto leaders of this group and has also put in a bid for congress. He is not expected to win however, given his extremist views on metahumans, however some political analysts are saying his involvement may be the catalyst for a different approach to the metahuman problem."


"My dad Blaine… my dad…."


Blaine squeezed his shoulder and carefully helped Kurt to his feet, a necessity since his eyes were still locked onto the screen and avoiding looking anywhere else in case his dad showed up again. Instead the news closed off and transitioned to an all womens morning talk group whose focus was apparently on if what the kids were wearing nowadays was suitable.


"My dad…."


He was lost for words, and similarly lost in what to do. Blaine led him back down the hall, around the corner, and to the cafeteria where he sat Kurt down and went to fetch them both breakfast. His mind muddled with images of his dad, the words he had heard on television, and the knowledge that his dad was doing all of it for him, Kurt became entranced with the air in front of him, trying to let it all settle in his brain.


"Oatmeal. Your least hated breakfast. Blaine uttered, snapping Kurt out of his mental absence.


"Thanks…"


They were quiet for a minute, forcing back the putrid, watered down oats until Blaine finally seemed to have had enough and spoke.


"He was confident Kurt… and when he spoke about you, he was worried. You should be proud of him for sticking himself out there like that."


"I am…. I always have been."


"Do you still want to go through with our plan?"


"Now more than ever…." Kurt sighed. "... I want to make sure I stay alive for him. Maybe it sounds pretentious of me… but I know I mean a lot to him and I dont want to end up dead and make him have to mourn me on top of fighting for my rights."


"Then well make sure you do stay alive… and its not pretentious. You both mean a lot to one another. Hes fighting because he wants to be able to see you again after all, and that means hes assuming that hes that important to you as well."


"He is."


"Well then… we should do a bit of packing today."


Kurt smiled Blaines way, the disturbing events of the night before gone from his mind and replaced with nothing but warmth for the boy across from him, spooning through his oat soup and wrinkling up his nose at the sight. Without Blaine in his life, he would have been in government hands long ago. This boy kept saving him, and in more ways than the obvious ones. He kept Kurt going. He kept him motivated, and some days Kurt was sure Blaine knew him better than he knew himself.


"What about the girls?"


"What about them?"


Blaine perked up a solitary brown brow, "Take them with us or leave them?"


Privacy or security. Those were the issues, but one trumped the other when it came to Kurt making sure he was able to get back to his dad one day.


"Well take them."


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