Don't Believe in Happy Endings
NobodyLikesAnAsshole
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Don't Believe in Happy Endings: Chapter 18


E - Words: 4,588 - Last Updated: Aug 23, 2013
Story: Complete - Chapters: 37/37 - Created: Dec 06, 2012 - Updated: Aug 23, 2013
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Author's Notes: Chapter End Notes: Sorry if I missed an aweful lot....

 


“Slept well?” Blaine asked, looking up from his laptop.
Kurt had been asleep for almost three hours, and finally Blaine had decided to do something on his computer since that was the only way to keep is freaky mind from wanting to just sit and look at Kurt as he slept.

 “Uh-huh…” mumbled a still very tired looking Kurt. He ran a hand through his incredibly messy hair and groaned.

“You have not seen me with this hair, okay?” he said and Blaine snorted in amusement.

“What?”

“You honestly think I care what your hair looks like? And I mean you see my hair in a mess almost every day.”

“Yeah, well you want your hair to be messy. I don’t.”

Blaine shut down his laptop, letting out a little sigh in relief as it finally stopped its loud buzzing, it always drove him crazy how loud that thing was, then looked up at the slender teenager standing with his right side rested against the doorframe. His hair was indeed messier than he’d ever seen it this far, shades of pink and brown acquiring each other.

“Why not? It’s pretty hot.”

Fuck? What the fuck had that been?

“Huh?” Kurt raised his pierced eyebrow.

“Nothin’.” Blaine answered quickly, beating himself up in his mind.

“Did you just say I looked hot?” his tone was amused and he had a wide, mocking, smirk on his lips.

“Uh, maybe…”

Wow. Why was he becoming shy again?

Blaine was certain Kurt was gonna snort and make some smartass comment, but he just nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘good to know’, then something shifted in his eyes and he wrinkled his brow, looking as if he was very concentrated on something. Blaine tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at Kurt curiously.

“What’s up?” he asked, but the taller just shook his head.

“Nothin’.” he brushed off, turned and walked back to the living room.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“I’m getting out of here?”

“What –why?”

“Don’t you want me to fuck off and leave you alone?”

“Well I –I dunno, just thought you might want to stay and…talk? Or something? ‘Cause I sort of got a million questions and stuff.” Blaine had absolutely no control whatsoever over what he was saying, and gave up trying to regain it.

“Talk…?” Kurt’s eyebrows were once again high on his forehead. “Bout what?”

“Like I said, I have a million questions.”

“Okay?” the he shook his head. “Or you know what, no. You’ve seen enough, sure you already knows what’s goin’ on.”

“Ehm, no I don’t, and that’s sort of the problem. I’ve seen a lot, but I can’t make shit out of it except that there’s something really fucked up in that head of yours.”

Kurt’s gaze fell to the floor and he let out a sad laugh sort of thing. Biting his bottom lip, he returned his eyes to Blaine, and somehow he immediately regretted what he’d said.

“Yeah. Exactly.” he said, a bitter smile still on his lips. “And as I said; you know enough. So if you’ll just kindly shut the fuck up about your opinions about me and let me get as far away from you and this house as possible.” Kurt turned his back and walked to the front door, and before he knew it,  he’d rushed forward to grab hold of the taller male’s arm.

“Hang on just a minute.” Blaine said, looking up at Kurt. “You’re not going anywhere until you at least tell me something.

Kurt turned around and gave him a weird look before jawnking himself out of his grip.

“Back off.” he hissed, lowering his head so their faces were only inches apart.

“I’m not scared of you, Kurt.” Blaine said calmly. “And I’m not trying to start a fight or anything like that.” Kurt just kept glaring at him, face screwed into a grimace with fury.

“Then why the fuck won’t you just lay off my back?”

“…Honestly –I’m curious.”

“You’re curious?” he snorted.

“Yes.”

“What the hell for?”

“I –don’t know.” Blaine chuckled awkwardly. “Curiosity?”

“You’re a real nut job, you know that?”

“Who’s Blaine?” Blaine asked instead, Kurt’s face fell.

“Shut up.” he warned, inching closer to the shorter male again.

“Or what?” He looked the other straight in the eye.

Kurt couldn’t find a good answer to the question. It didn’t work at all actually.

“I’m not trying to make you upset, I just want to know.”

“Well you are making me upset.” Kurt hissed. “And you’re gonna let me leave.”

“Do you know how you ended up on my couch?”

“Huh?” What was he going on about now?

“Do you know how you got here?”

“Well I –?” He wasn’t sure.

“I carried you.” Blaine said, looking Kurt straight in the eye. “I carried you to the car when you couldn’t walk, I drove you here ‘cause you couldn’t drive yourself. I let you sleep on my couch ‘cause I couldn’t carry you up the stairs.”

Kurt opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it again when he couldn’t find any words.

“I slept in an armchair ‘cause it felt wrong to leave you alone. You took a shower and something happened again.  What did I do? I carried you to my room and let you sleep in my bed for another two hours. Then I made you, and me, something to eat and after that I let you sleep on my couch again. And did I mention that you’re wearing my clothes at the moment?” It almost scared him how Blaine didn’t look away from his eyes for even a second.

“And this is after you’ve beaten me up numerous of times for reasons completely unknown to me and acted like some mysterious man from a black and white murder drama. I think you owe me.”

“I…”

“Please.”

“I hate you.” Kurt muttered and Blaine smirked. “No, I’m seriously gonna kill you later.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to run before you have the chance.”

“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you?”

“I a–“

“Don’t answer that.” Kurt cut off. “Let’s just get it over with.”

He walked over and sat down on the couch, trying his best to somehow make Blaine fall unconscious so he could escape before he had to go through whatever torture he could feel coming.

“You’re gonna tell me something too, Frodo.” Blaine just chuckled and sat down too, but in the armchair, since he felt like getting Kurt to tell him something about anything was good enough. He didn’t want to push his luck even more than he already had.

“I could –maybe start, if it’d make it… easier?” Blaine tired.

Kurt snorted. “What the fuck do you think this is?” he asked.

“Attract the claws, Kurtie.”

“Don’t call me that.” he shot down immediately and Blaine chuckled as he so often did.

  “I needed to go to the hospital to see my mom.” said the boy in the armchair after several moments of awkward silence.

“…Okay.” Kurt nodded slowly.

 It’s a start I guess. Now I just have to say something, then I can finally get the hell out of here.

“What happened to you when I was gone?” he asked then and Kurt felt how his walls shot up out of instinct.

What the fuck am I even still doing here?

“Kurt?”

He didn’t respond in any way. He just sat there, staring into the wall in front of him, clenching his jaws.

“Come on, don’t treat me like a fucking ant. I deserve to know something at least.”

“You do?” Kurt turned to look at the other teen, feeling how his temper started to wake to life.

“You really do? What have you done to ‘deserve’ that then?” he looked at the smaller boy coldly.

“Don’t start this shit again, Kurt. You know it doesn’t work on me.”

He ignored Blaine’s words, he barely heard them to begin with. He was too busy trying to keep his temper under control. He wanted, so badly, to be able to take control over that whole screwed up situation again without ending up hitting something. Or someone.

“You know,” Kurt turned his whole body around so he wouldn’t have to have his neck turned in such an awkward angle. “I’ve cut you a lot of slack.”

“No you haven’t.” Blaine snorted.

“Oh, but I have.” His heart beat faster and faster in his chest. “Have you seen the way most of the people in school completely avoid me? Out of fear? Real fear? Have you seen it? Because I don’t think you have. You’ve gotten away from me more times than any other person ever have.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because I’m so fucking sick of you acting like you’re some sort of… special person that just deserves to get to know stuff about me and my life. I’m sick of your disgusting smile that never seems to leave your lips. And I am so. Fucking. Sick. Of you acting like you’re so much better than me.”

“I’m really not doing that.”

“But you are. And it’s so fucking frustrating you should be crying with thankfulness that I haven’t separated your head from your ridiculously small body already.”

“Well nobody’s perfect, right? You become a heartless asshole to deal, and I become… whatever you want to call it.”

“A narcissistic douchebag.” Kurt said matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would.”

 And that was it, the two were left in silence again, neither having even the slightest idea what to say next. Blaine was just trying to figure out why the heck he had the strong desire to get to know the other boy better, and Kurt just wanted to get out of there, just wanted to go back to the apartment and to the cold hard floor and endless hours of nothing but his mind screaming at him what an utterly worthless human being he was. That he could handle. But the situation he found himself in right then and there, he didn’t know how to even begin to try and handle.

  “What happened in the car while I was gone?” Blaine decided to try again.

“Nothing of importance to you.” Kurt muttered. “And it doesn’t matter how many times you keep asking, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I barely tell Quinn anything and she’s the closest thing I have to family left in my life. And telling you would only make shit complicated.”

“You don’t have any family except from her?” Blaine asked, feeling his stomach dropping as he tried to imagine how that would be like.

“…No.”

“What happened?”

“They died.”

“All of them?”

“Just about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? You’d nothing to do with it.”

“I know. I mean that I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry because even though I may not have much of a family left either, I still have my mother. And I could never imagine how it would be like having to cope without her.”

“Well, I’m not you. And this is my life, there isn’t much I can do about it.”

Shit. Where were all the words coming from now all of a sudden? And what were they doing coming out of his mouth?

“…You could talk to someone. And I don’t mean that that someone has to be me, just someone. Like Quinn, if you trust her.”

Kurt snorted. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Someone who’ve had an unfairly amount of shit happen to them, someone who knows what it’s like, better than you know.”

“Stop acting like a fucking saint.” Kurt snapped, and this time he was out the door and in his car before Blaine had the time to stop him.

   “Fuck.” He groaned as he hit his head in the steering wheel repeatedly.

“Need to focus.” he muttered. “Need to focus…”

There’d been way too much talking and way too much remembering again. He’d let how Blaine acted get to him too much, what he’d said and how he’d looked at him. He’d let way too much of everything get to him.

What day was it? He realized he had no idea. Barely knew in what part of town he was. But from the looks of it, he wasn’t at all too far from home, or whatever you wanted to call it.

   There was a knock on the window. “Hey, Kurt?” followed a voice then.

He looked up. What the heck?

“What now? Could you stop following me?” Blaine raised his triangular eyebrows.

“Really?” he asked. “You’re still in my driveway, idjit.”

“Don’t say idjit. Makes you sound ancient.” Why did he even care? God, he was caring, or whatever it was, way too much about that goddamned hobbit.

“Could you be my slave for another fifteen minutes?” Blaine asked, and now it was Kurt’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“Huh?” His mind really had to hate him or something, because why else would it create those pictures?

“Oh get your head outta the gutter and stop being a sex addict, I wasn’t talking about something kinky you ass.”

“Did I say so?”

“No, but you were thinking it.”

“I really hate you.”

“Right back at you, but I still need a favor.”

“And you’re telling me because?” That was really a line those two had to stop saying to each other. It would get annoying pretty soon otherwise.

“Because I need to get to work and since I haven’t had the time to take a look at my ride, I think she’ll still be refusing to start.”

“You need to get to work?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?”

“Exactly, what’s up with that? You’ve never mentioned work before.”

“When did I last mention anything specific about my life?” Blaine said, and Kurt nodded, because he was totally right. The two didn’t know many details about each other’s lives. Both of them liked to keep that out of the conversations.

 “But still, where’s the reason in you telling me this?”

“Isn’t it pretty obvious? I’d really need you to drive.”

“You need me to drive you to work?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And why should I?”

“Because you’re a good person and I’m in need of help.”

“I’m really not a good person, and you know that.” Kurt stated and rolled up the window.

“Hey, come on! Stop being such an ass all the time.”

“Sure, if you tell me how.” he said, then drove off in the direction he was now pretty certain was the right way to drive to get home. He’d driven around the whole town millions upon millions of times when there was nothing better to do, so he usually knew his way around.


 

“And how exactly am I supposed to tell you if you just drive off?” Blaine asked, but there was no answer. And really, if it had been, he’d be pretty shocked, ‘cause he’d never heard of talking air before in his life.

But never mind that, because what the heck was he supposed to do now? His motorcycle was uselessly standing rested against the garage wall, and his mother’s car had run about of gas. He really had no choice but to walk, did he? And he was already late, since he’d forgotten that he even had work to go to. It’d just kinda left his head completely.

  So, Blaine ended up half walking, half running all the way to the Lima Bean. He wasn’t sure how long it took, nor how long of a distance it actually was. He just knew that once he was finally there to change into the ridiculous little outfit he had to wear, he could barely breathe. His cheeks where flushed red and his eyes were watery from running in the cold air.

  “What’s up with you, Anderson?” Jamey, one of the guys who worked in the Lima Bean as well, asked as both of them walked out of the tiny changing room out into the little cozy coffee shop. He’d been to the bathroom and ran into Blaine as he’d put on his apron with the shop’s logo on it. The guy was in his mid-twenties, and was the one who’d walked in on him and Sebastian in the staff bathroom. It had involved the young man’s face turning into a tomato, Sebastian pushing Blaine off, and out of, him and hastily pulling his pants back up. Blaine had only re-zipped his jeans and laughed. It had taken weeks for Jamey to even be able to look at him again after that, but after about two months, he’d asked Blaine for fire during one of their smoking breaks, and the two had just kept talking more and more from that point on.

   “Nothin’ really, just had to practically run here.”

“Come again?”

“My Baby keeps breakin’ down, and she almost seems to be doing it just to fuck with me.”

Jamey chuckled. “It’s a vehicle, you know, it’s not alive.”

“I didn’t say she is.”

“No, but you keep calling it a ‘she’.” he smirked at him and Blaine rolled his eyes.

   He had to be in the Lima Bean for about four more hours, then he could somehow get back home and take a look at his bike. And maybe think a little about Kurt. Because as much as he may have disliked him from the start, there was a weird thing going on in his mind, and he could almost feel himself making the ice wall between the two of them melt more and more for each time they met. And he couldn’t lie to himself anymore about the fact that he actually really did want to be his friend.


 

Kurt found himself breathing heavily as he slowly drove back to the little apartment. He was breathing heavily and sweated whole oceans. He was feeling hot and dizzy.

Maybe he should stop the car and step outside for a moment? …Nah, there was no need for that. He was not far away from home now at all. It would only be unnecessary.

But maybe he should’ve done better by stopping the car, because only seconds later, yet another flashback came rushing in and almost blacked him out.


 

“How are you feeling today?” asked the nurse standing by his bedside. The boy didn’t answer, just kept staring at the ceiling.

“Okay.” she smiled, more than used to being ignored by her patients.

“Just remember that Mrs. Jacobs will be here in three hours. And it’d be great if you actually spoke to her today.” she said, writing something down on the little plastic board that everyone working at the hospital seemed to always carry around. She asked him if there was anything she could do for him before she left, but when there was still no answer, she left the room. The boy lying in the bed kept staring at the ceiling, completely motionless.

He was only fourteen, and had been hospitalized after trying to take his own life by cutting up his wrist. He’d had his life saved by a teacher at his school, whom had just happened to enter the right classroom at the right time.

Though there had been no one to thank this teacher for calling an ambulance, there had been no one who’d cared. The boy himself was certain that if he’d just been left alone and ‘succeeded’ with dying; his father wouldn’t have noticed he was gone.

    His eyeballs soon hurt from looking upwards for so long, so he turned his gaze to the window about a meter from his bed. Outside the sky was blue and the grass was green. There were birds flying from tree to tree, and on the little walkway just outside the window was an old man in a wheelchair being pushed forward by a nurse. The man barely had any hair left on his scalp, and the few hair strands that were still left were as white as snow. His eyes almost disappeared in all the wrinkles in his skin, which seemed to be way too big for his face. There were hoses coming out of his nose connected to some kind of metallic thing hanging on the back of the wheelchair, guessing it helped him breathe. He seemed tired and from the way his chest was moving, breathing really seemed hard. But there was a weak smile on his lips, and the nurse was laughing. They seemed to have a good time even though it looked as if though the man could die any second.

  The world outside went on like it always did. It didn’t care that there was a fourteen year old boy lying in an uncomfortable hospital bed. It didn’t care that that boy didn’t want to be there. It didn’t care that the boy wished for nothing more than dying. It didn’t care that he was willing to do just about anything to make that possible.

  The machine he himself was connected with with a hose of his own, which slowly pumped blood back into his system, stood in a corner, too far away for him to reach. There was bandage safely wrapped around the needle which made it possible for the blood being transported, and he was being watched through by a security camera of sorts. This was all way too ambitious for the fourteen year old’s liking, but the staff of the hospital had decided that this was necessary. Because after the patient making three more suicide attempts in the course of barely three conscious days, it clearly showed that this individual didn’t want to stay alive. But it was their duty to keep him alive, especially since he was still so very young.


 

 Holy fuck. That really needed to stop happening. It would soon end up killing him if it didn’t. He had to be more careful with where he let his thoughts wander when he was left alone. And he had to be more careful about talking about stuff in the past. Because that was just what they were, stuff in the past. It didn’t matter anymore. There was no need to think about it.

But had there maybe been a little truth in what Blaine had told him earlier? Should he talk to someone? Someone he trusted? Well, if he had someone who he did trust completely and if there ever was the need to, would just about trust the person with his life? Was there such a person in his life?

   Kurt drove way faster than he usually did the rest of the way. He needed to see Quinn. He needed to talk to her.

Once he saw the little dead lawn just outside of the tiny little building he called home, he immediately noticed the big black Volvo standing on it. It was Santana’s car. What the hell? Since when did those two become bff’s? The Latino had been over quite a lot of times lately, and Quinn often walked off with Santana during school or whatever happened to be going on around them at the moment. It almost made Kurt a tiny bit jealous. Almost.

He didn’t look through the car’s windows as he passed, since he was sure it would be empty. But once he was finally inside, there was no one but Quinn in the room. She had of some reason moved her mattress to lie on top of Kurt’s, and her blanket and pillow lay in a little pile of its own. After looking again, he noticed how all of her few things were gone. Quinn herself sat on the mattresses on Kurt’s side of the room and looked up at him with a sad expression on her face. She held her trunk tightly in her arms and he suspected it was filled with the girl’s belongings.

   “Quinn…?” Kurt said slowly, looking around the little room again. It was really weird seeing it so… empty. Or, emptier than usual.

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Quinn what’re you –“ he fell silent, his voice failing him. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t at all right.

“We’re you been?” she cut him off before he could get his voice back again.

“To hell and back.” Kurt just said. “And don’t avoid the question. What’s going on?”

Quinn sighed heavily. “…I’m leaving.” she told him quietly, standing up. “I was just waiting for you to come home so I could tell you.”

Kurt could feel his face falling and it took a second before he could do anything about it.

No… please don’t. Please don’t leave me, Quinn. I need you to stay with me.

“Okay. Cool.” he managed, voice not as strong as he’d wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, but you know I can’t stay here.” She walked closer to Kurt, who could just stood frozen on the spot like a statue. “Not with the baby and all, it’ll–“

“I know, it’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.” He tried, and failed, to smile at her.

“I’ll still come here you know–“
“I said don’t worry about it.” he cut her off, a little too sharply so. “Sorry, rough day.” he explained.

“I really don’t have a choice.” she said sadly.

“Where’re you stain’ at?”

“Santana’s.”

“Okay?” he made it sound like a question, because really, what the hell?

“I know it’s weird, I thought so too, but apparently her mother’s some sort of head-nurse or something, and she’s agreed on letting me stay there until my child is born.”

Kurt nodded numbly. He could no longer form words.

“I need to do this for the baby, Kurt.” she begged, obviously seeing how hard her friend was taking the news.

“I know.” he said and cleared his throat. “Guess this is the official end of you coming with me to Scandals?” he said then, trying to smile.

“Seems like it.” Quinn said with a sad little laughter-like sound. “But it’s not the end of our friendship. And we’ll still see each other in school as usual.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Why do all girls have to be so cheesy?” he muttered and returned her hug before he could stop himself. But the moment he felt the warmth from her body against his and the almost comfort he felt from it, he let go quickly.

He didn’t turn around when Quinn walked out the door. He didn’t walk over to the sink or the bed when he heard the sound of the low Volvo engineer fading away. He didn’t do anything at all. He just stood in the middle of the little dim room for what felt like hours before he numbly dragged himself over to his mattress, which was softer than usual, but he didn’t feel any comfort from it. He sat down and rested the back of his head against the paper-thin wall behind him and sighed deeply.

Well done Kurt Hummel, new achievement. You’ve now managed to lose all you live for two times in your eighteen years of living. Well done. 


 


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