Chapter Eight: Over My Head

To say that Blaine was highly skeptical of Santana’s change of heart would be an understatement.  He flat-out didn’t buy it.  Kurt, on the other hand, had accepted her proclamation completely with only a few discerning glances shared between them, and Blaine couldn’t help but feel a little irritated that his soulmate was capable of such naiveté in a situation that could potentially pose a very real danger.

It didn’t help that Kurt couldn’t—or wouldn’t—explain to Blaine why he was so easily convinced that Santana was sincere. 

“You don’t know her like I do, Blaine,” Kurt said, shrugging his shoulders.  “Please just trust me on this.”

Blaine argued for a little while, half-heartedly.  He pleaded with Kurt and tried to warn him about the risks that came with trusting too easily.  But Kurt was pure of heart and could see only the good; it was one of the many reasons why Blaine loved him.  Eventually kisses and the now familiar warmth of Kurt’s arms around him melted away the last of Blaine’s resolve.

What they couldn’t change was Blaine’s suspicion, his growing unease and anxiety.  Every morning he dined with Kurt, Santana, and Brittany (who Blaine could see was inherently sweet and honest, but sadly perhaps even more gullible than Kurt).  The four would talk about the resistance, try to make plans or at least plot their next move.  The others seemed convinced that the best course of action would be for Santana to “come out,” so to speak, when the presidential campaign began in a few short weeks; Blaine thought it was far too much of a gamble. 

Then one morning, Santana’s “suggestions” went a bit too far.

“So I’ve been thinking, Blainers, about how we could get your little group on board,” she said casually while buttering her toast.  “I think you should be the one to do it.”

Blaine dropped his fork as his mouth fell open, hardly able to contain the sudden wave of shock and anger that blew through him.  The gall of this woman…

“I don’t think that would be wise,” he managed through clenched teeth.

Kurt noticed him tensing and reached out a hand to gently cover Blaine’s own, but Santana continued on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I wouldn’t send you alone, of course.  You and Kurt could go together—you’d have to.  He and Brit are the only ones who know where the place is.”

“Then send Brittany,” Blaine retorted.  “She’s a daughter of the Source, she could get there undetected.  Kurt and I would have no such protection.”

Santana laughed.  She laughed.  “Oh, there’s no way I’m sending her out there alone!  No, Brit needs to stay with me.  You’ve got the best chance of convincing them anyway, once they hear that you’ve been here this whole time and I haven’t harmed you.  No?” 

She looked up at him on the last word, finally daring to meet his eyes, and he could read the challenge within them.  Blaine felt his entire body flair to life as he stood abruptly, throwing Kurt’s hand off of his own and slamming his fists back down on the table.

“Is this a game to you?”  He demanded.

“Blaine…”

“No, Kurt, why can’t you see that this woman is crazy!” Blaine rounded on Santana.  “Do you really care about any of us, about this cause?  Do you care about anything but her?”  He spit the word, gesturing wildly towards Brittany.

Santana was still staring at him, expression unchanged, but Kurt was at his side in an instant, once again saying Blaine’s name.  His gentle hands closed around Blaine’s shoulders, but Blaine could barely feel them.

“Is water going to come out of his blow-hole soon?” Brittany whispered towards Santana.

“I’ve had enough.” Blaine declared, grabbing at his napkin and attempting to hurl it across the room.  It fluttered softly back to the table not a foot away.

“Blaine…” Kurt tried again.

“Enough,” Blaine repeated, turning for one last look at his soulmate’s crestfallen face before he stormed out of the room.

*******

The courtyard was quiet and peaceful this early in the morning.  It was probably that way almost any time of day, Blaine supposed, but there something about the low-risen sun and the frequent tweeting of birds, the rustling of animals settling in the bushes and the gentle breeze, that provided just the type of calm he desperately needed right now.

Blaine had never felt so trapped—not when he was first captured and taken to prison, nor when he had woken, bound and sore, in the back of an unfamiliar vehicle, and not even during those first long, lonely weeks at the mansion.  He had Kurt now, yes, but what could he do?  He had no power here, and even his own soulmate seemed to be against him.  He wasn’t alone, but there was no one on his side.

“I thought you might be here,” the voice startled him, and he nearly shrank back on instinct as Santana appeared a few feet in front of him.

She looked so humble now—as innocent as he had ever seen her—and it was difficult, for a moment, to match the image before him with the Santana in his mind.  The Santana who had been his enemy, then nearly a friend, and now, it seemed, was an enemy once more.  Maybe it was Kurt’s presence that had altered the amicable course they had been on for a time.  Now Blaine had more at stake, had Kurt to protect and defend.   Or it might have been her lack of concern at his plight, the endless weeks he’d been forced to endure in a bizarre, ignorant homeostasis.  Blaine knew these were both contributors to the wary loathing he’d come to feel for the woman, but if he was honest, they weren’t his primary reasons.  Blaine hated Santana because he couldn’t understand her, because she ran hot and cold and turned on a dime, and he knew—he knew—that this type of person was not to be trusted.

“What do you want?” he grumbled, relaxing his shoulders but not bothering to look up.

“You don’t trust me,” Santana stated simply.

Blaine scoffed.  “You think?”

He watched her approach out of the corner of his eye, felt her take a seat mere inches from him on the hard stone bench. 

“I don’t blame you,” she said carefully after a moment.  “If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t trust me either.  But you shouldn’t blame Kurt.  He doesn’t know me the same way you do; he knows the girl I once was.”

“If you’re trying to win my confidence, that’s a pretty weak argument.”

He waited for her usual quick-witted retort, but it never came.

“I’m trying to be honest,” she said instead. 

“Honest…” Blaine chuckled wryly.  “What does honesty even mean to a person like you?”

“I’m not a monster—“ for the first time, Santana sounded passionate, almost defensive.  “I’ve—“ her voice faltered “—I’ve never lied to you before.”

“Really?”  Blaine didn’t even try to mask his incredulity.

“Yes, really.” 

There was something there this time, something in her voice that made Blaine finally look up to consider the woman sitting next to him.  He met her eyes, studying them for a long time, feeling something too close to guilt at what he found there.

“What happened to you?” Blaine asked at last, words breathy and disbelieving.

Santana opened her mouth, hesitation and discomfort written all over her face, then closed it, truly seeming to flounder for the first time in the long weeks he had known her.  Suddenly Blaine wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer.

“Why should I trust you?” he asked instead.

She settled a little bit, seemed to be searching now.  “Brittany,” she finally answered.  “I know it sounds cliché, but you have Kurt, so you must know—I’d do anything for her.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Blaine pressed, not wanting to make this too easy.

Santana nodded.  “No, of course not.  But it’s the best one.”

Blaine watched her for a moment longer before nodding as well, conceding her point.

“If you betray us...” he began.

“Don’t even,” Santana warned, a flash of her old self that Blaine found somewhat comforting.  “Surely you’re smart enough to realize that I have far more at stake here than you.  What, that you have now, do you stand to lose?”

Kurt.  The name was on the tip of his tongue, but Blaine caught himself, reminded himself begrudgingly that they were already in danger, that with or without Santana they’d probably be in more danger before all of this was done.  Blaine didn’t understand it, but he had accepted that Santana cared about Kurt the moment he had learned her reason for letting him live.

“If we’re doing this, I want to go over your plan until it’s airtight.  I’m not taking any unnecessary risks, not with him,” Blaine told her, determined to save face if he was going to cave.

Santana smiled, and Blaine allowed himself a moment to doubt her again, to wonder if this entire conversation had merely been an act to win his compliance.  He pushed it aside.  If he was going to do this, he would have to commit to doing it whole-heartedly, for everyone’s sake.

 *******

The next day found Blaine and Kurt in one of Santana’s security vehicles; Kurt in the passenger seat with a map clutched in his hands, a route that they were unsure of marked roughly onto the paper.  Blaine sat next to him clenching and unclenching his fists around the wheel, body still racked with too much tension and lingering uncertainty.

“We’ll expect you back by night tomorrow,” Santana said through the window, Brittany standing nervously just behind her.

“Or what?” Blaine asked.

Santana just shook her head, but Blaine already knew she didn’t have an answer.

“We’ll be here,” Kurt assured her.  “With news.”

“Be safe,” Santana told him with a small, sad smile on her face.

“I’ll tell the trees to look out for you,” Brittany added, and Blaine was tempted for a moment to ask her if that was something she could actually do.

“Right,” he said instead to no one in particular, looking nervously at the road ahead.

Kurt’s hand startled him, settling lightly on his arm, and his head shot over to take in Kurt’s smiling face.  He smiled weakly in return, and the hand gave a gently squeeze.

“We’ll be fine, Santana,” Kurt said, still looking at Blaine.  Then, “we should really get going, though.”

“Right,” Blaine said again, Kurt’s hand falling away as he reached for the gear shift and moved it to ‘D’.

“Goodbye,” Kurt spoke past him, out the window.

Blaine pressed a shaky foot down on the gas pedal, and they were off.

*******

The drive took only about an hour, and Kurt spent most of that time grumbling about how inconvenient it had been when he was traveling on foot.  “Three days, Blaine!  You’d think the resistance could bother to get a car.”

“I’m sure they have a car, you probably just weren’t prepared to steal it,” Blaine commented dryly.

Kurt huffed.  “Yeah, well, they were all locked up in the garage.  And there’s not exactly a road close enough to the house to make them useful anyway; I’m not sure what they’re there for.  It wasn’t really an option, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.”

Blaine grinned in spite of himself.  “I still can’t get over the fact that you did all that just to come and find me.  I wish I’d been around to take pictures of you trekking through the woods!”

“I thought you were angry at me for taking the risk?”

“Oh, I am,” Blaine confirmed.  “But it was still really sweet, Kurt.  Thank you.”

Kurt turned to him with a smile on his face, but it quickly changed into a look of recognition.  “Hey, I think I remember this place!  How long have we been driving?”

Blaine glanced at the clock.  “About an hour and ten minutes, now.  Are we close?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we crossed the road through here.  Pull over!”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Blaine protested, shaking his head.  “We don’t want to leave the vehicle somewhere noticeable.  Is there any civilization around here?”

“I think Mercedes mentioned a gas station where they go sometimes along a road nearby.  It might be up ahead, if this is the one she meant.  She said they don’t ask a lot of questions there.”

“I guess that’s our best shot; I’ll just keep going then.”

Sure enough, after less than five more minutes of traveling they spotted a small gas station and an accompanying store.  Blaine pulled over into the farthest parking spot.  “This is it, then.  Do you want to head back up the road or try to cut over from here?”

After a bit of discussion and an okay from the girl behind the station’s counter to leave the car there overnight (for the first time, Blaine was glad that Santana had thought to have them wear the guard’s uniforms—it helped with credibility,) Kurt and Blaine headed out with only backpacks in tow.

Fortunately, Kurt was able to pick out the familiar route fairly quickly, and after meandering for about another hour, they reached the clearing and the house.

“What now?” Kurt asked, sounding nervous now that the moment of truth was here.  “Do we just walk up and knock?  What do we say?”

“Here,” Blaine said, hastily pulling them back behind the trees and out of sight.  “We should change first, so we don’t spook them if they notice the uniforms before they see our faces.”

They made quick work of the distasteful garments, Blaine cringing momentarily when he realized that he’d only brought one change of clothes, and Kurt scoffed.

“I did tell you,” he chastised Blaine.  “One outfit is never enough; it doesn’t matter where you’re going.”

With no more excuses to keep them, the men quietly linked hands and approached the house.  After a moment’s hesitation it was Blaine that lifted the heavy knocker, but the door swung open before he could slam it back down.

“Blaine?” a confused face peaked out, quickly widening into an enormous grin.  “Hey guys, it’s Blaine!” David called back into the house, before turning and flinging his arms around his unsuspecting friend, who patted his back awkwardly.

“Hey,” Blaine offered.  “It’s good to see you!”

David finally broke free to latch onto Kurt, and Blaine soon found himself assaulted instead by Mike and then Wes, with more and more friends and acquaintances gathering to take part in the commotion.

“Dude, how are you here?” asked a tall man whom Blaine could only assume must be Finn as he pulled away from a choking Kurt, who was rubbing at his arms.  Blaine scowled up at him, and Finn had the decency to look apologetic.  “Sorry,” he offered weakly, but Kurt just smiled.

The noise died down as everyone waited eagerly for the two men to explain themselves.  “It’s a long story,” Blaine addressed the sea of curious faces.  “It might take some convincing for you to believe it, but that’s why we’re here.”

“We’ve got time,” Wes said, stepping forward.  “Why don’t we get you two settled with something to eat, and then you can fill us in?”

Blaine nodded gratefully, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Kurt did the same.  He settled happily into a conversation with Mike as they headed into the kitchen, arms slung around one another.  Kurt hung back to catch up with Mercedes (whom Blaine had never met, but she seemed kind; he was happy that Kurt had a friend).

He didn’t notice the figure watching him solemnly from the far side of the room, nor Sebastian’s smirking face as he ran his eyes over the length of Blaine’s body, following the group a few steps behind.

*******

“So guys, what’s the story?”

Bellies full, the entire group had squeezed into the living room for an impromptu meeting.  Kurt sat beside Blaine front and center, looking a little nervous to have so many eyes on him, so Blaine cleared his throat and took the floor.

“You guys know that a few months ago Kurt and I tried to cross the barrier together, but it  didn’t let me through,” he waited as several people nodded.  “I was found, unconscious, by two security guards and taken to headquarters.  Santana Lopez, current Head of Security, was about to have me killed, but at the last minute she changed her mind.  I later learned it was because of Kurt—she saw my soulmate mark and spared me because they had been childhood friends.”

“But I’ve heard that she’s…” someone started to say, but Blaine brought his hand up and the woman cut off.

“Please, hear me out.”

When there was no more protest, he continued.  “That was the first shock, given her infamous stance promoting the benefits of rehabilitation.  But she gave me a comfortable room and free reign of the place so long as I didn’t try to leave.  For a time, we were almost friends.  Then, a month into my stay, Kurt and Brittany showed up.”

Everyone’s gaze shifted to Kurt then, who colored, looking sheepish.  “Sorry,” he offered quietly, but Wes waved him off. 

“Not important now,” he said, then turned back to Blaine.  “Please, continue.”

Blaine nodded.  “I could go into detail,” he stated, “but it’s much simpler to sum it up: it turns out that Brittany and Santana are soulmates.  Santana resisted for a while, but eventually they got together.”

Gasps were heard around the room, one person asking “is that even possible?”

“My brother,” Mercedes piped up from the back of the room.

“So,” Blaine cut in, hints of impatience barely evident in his voice, “Santana’s done a complete one eighty.  I didn’t believe it myself at first, but Kurt was convinced from the very start, and after talking it over—“ he swallowed loudly, wanting to project confidence where he wasn’t completely certain himself “—I’ve decided that she can be trusted.”

Silence fell over the crowd, but it didn’t last long.

“Are you insane?” Sebastian was the first to speak up, trademark ridicule written all over his face.  “I knew this one—“ he gestured towards Kurt “—was gullible from the start, but I thought more highly of you, Blaine.  Surely your training has taught you better than that!”

Blaine narrowed his eyes at him, but the rude remark seemed to open the floodgates.

“Really, Blaine, I don’t think it’s best that…”

“…she’s notorious for…”

“…putting all of us in danger…”

“Stop!” Kurt’s shout carried over the crowd, startling even Blaine, who turned around to look at him.

“Have any of you been through rehabilitation?” he asked angrily, scanning the group before him and meeting several pairs of eyes.  “No, no one?  I haven’t either, but I’ve heard enough about it, and so have you.  It’s what you people are supposed to be fighting against!”

When no one spoke up, Kurt continued.

“I won’t mention the rumors we’ve all heard over the years of everything the process entails, but I will remind you that it strips a person of their humanity, often of their capacity to empathize or sympathize with others.  It changes you, at your core.  It takes away the good and replaces it with an empty, mechanical devotion to governmental service.   We’ve all seen it.”

Most of Kurt’s audience looked shocked now, even guilty, and Blaine felt a surplus of pride well up within him at what his soulmate had accomplished.  Mercedes looked sad and was nodding almost robotically.

“Santana wasn’t one of the lucky ones like those of us sitting in this room.  I didn’t know her before the procedure, but I got to know the bitter shell of a person that was left.  To most of the world she was cold, calculated, and defensive, but I could see beneath all that, see the loyal, passionate girl that was hurting.  She became my friend.

“Then Brittany came along, and for the first time I saw the person Santana could be—was meant to be—at her full potential.  A person who was happy, who was whole, who was able to commit to good—just like every one of you.  Santana has changed in the way that only love can manage, and isn’t that what we’re fighting for?  She wants to help, and she’s in a position where she can help.  If you refuse to let her, it will be your own necks you’re biting.”

Kurt fell silent with one last huff of breath, sagging in his seat now that his energy was spent, but he shot Blaine a grateful smile when Blaine reached to take his hand.

“Does Santana have a plan?” Wes asked at last.

Blaine nodded.  “She’d like the group to relocate there—she’s gotten rid of all the guards she doesn’t trust, so it’s as safe as it can be.  You may have heard that she’s running for president; her first campaign speech is a few weeks away.  She’d like to take the opportunity to tell her story, change her stance.  She wants to be open about this, run an honest campaign—hopefully with our support.”

“She’s going to do it anyway?” Mike asked, his tone disbelieving.

“Yes.”

The room was quiet once more, everyone seemingly lost in their own thoughts, until finally Wes spoke up again.  “I think we’ve heard enough for tonight.  If it’s okay, I’d like to hold another meeting tomorrow evening and we’ll put it to a vote.”  He nodded towards Blaine and Kurt.  “Will you two be staying with us?”

“Just this evening, if that’s alright,” Blaine answered.  “Perhaps it’s best if you vote without us present.”

Wes nodded again, this time in consent, and everyone sluggishly—noiselessly—headed for bed.

*******

The solemnity of the night before continued into breakfast the next morning, with the exception of Finn, who prattled on about nothing in particular as if oblivious to the tension around him.  Blaine had to admit he was coming to find the taller man rather endearing, and it was clear that Kurt already thought as much.

A second interruption came from Sebastian, sidling over with his usual quips and jibes—now consisting of a fair mix of hitting on Blaine and insulting Kurt.   They both tried to ignore it, but Blaine could feel his anger rising with each dig and Kurt was inching closer and closer to him until he was practically in Blaine’s lap, his arm wound tightly through Blaine’s own and making it rather difficult to eat.

“We’re done, Sebastian,” Kurt finally said, shooting the man his trademark bitch glare.  It made Blaine want to kiss him, so he did.

“Classy,” Sebastian sneered a final time before thankfully stalking off.

There wasn’t much reason to linger after that, at least not in such an uncomfortable atmosphere, so with a few final words to Mike, Mercedes, Wes and Finn, the men gathered their things and headed for the door.

“Blaine,” a voice stalled him, hand on the doorknob, and Blaine froze.  “Please, I’d like to talk to you.”

Collecting himself, Blaine whirled around to face Cooper.  He’d noticed his brother among the others yesterday but pointedly chose to ignore him.  This wasn’t fair; he had so much to deal with already.

“You have nothing to say that I want to hear,” Blaine said coldly.

Cooper opened his mouth as if to speak, but Kurt beat him to it.  “I think you should hear him out,” he told Blaine quietly, fingers brushing against Blaine’s hand.

“Kurt, that’s not…”

“Talk to him,” Kurt interrupted sternly.  And before Blaine could respond he was slipping out of the room, leaving Blaine exasperated and trapped.

Blaine stared after him for a moment before refocusing on Cooper, face carefully blank.  “This isn’t happening,” he stated, and turned back towards the door.

“Blaine, wait,” Cooper moved forward, grabbed his arm, and Blaine shook it off roughly. 

“You have no right!” he yelled loudly, chest heaving as his anger was unleashed.

“I just want to explain,” Cooper said weakly, sounding nothing at all like the brother remembered.  Maybe that’s what made the difference.

“Two minutes,” Blaine said at last.  “Two minutes and I’m gone, forever.  I don’t want to hear from you again.”

Cooper nodded frantically, but then fell silent as if uncertain now what to say.

“I’m waiting.”

“It was the only way,” Cooper spoke in a rush.  “When we were leaving the house, I saw her—Molli.  She’s my soulmate, Blaine, that’s why I did it.  I had to get her out of there, and there was no other way they’d let me go...”

“So I was the sacrifice, is that it?” Blaine demanded, anger still raging within him.

“Yes!  No!  No, I… I didn’t want it to be that way, but everything happened so fast, and there was no time to think…”

“What did you tell them?  What lies did you feed them about me?”

He was up in Cooper’s face now, the other man cowering, giving ground despite being significantly taller.  Cooper looked guilty, desperate, afraid, and Blaine couldn’t help but ride out this power trip.  Never before had he had this kind of advantage over his brother, the almighty Cooper.  He’d never really wanted it before, truth be told, but now it felt like it was his right.

“I told them you were the leader, the head of the group.  I said that you’d planned it all, that I was being blackmailed.  I’m a good actor; they believed me.”

Blaine scoffed.  Even backed into a corner, Cooper remained conceited as ever.

“You have your soulmate now, surely you understand!  Surely you’d do anything!”

To Blaine’s surprise, he found himself considering.  What would he have done, in Cooper’s shoes?  What and who was he willing to sacrifice for Kurt’s sake?

The answer, of course, was anything, anyone.  But Blaine would have found a better way.

“Your two minutes are up,” he said finally, the words empty of his previous venom but just as absolute.

“What?” Cooper exclaimed, looking earnestly confused.  Anger thinning, Blaine almost felt sorry for him.

“I understand why you did it,” Blaine told him.  “But I can’t forgive you, Cooper.  I won’t.  You were my brother!”

“I am your brother,” Cooper correctly quietly, looking devastated.

Blaine swallowed thickly.  “No.  Not anymore.”

He turned away from Cooper for the last time, heading in the direction Kurt had disappeared.  Blaine wasn’t surprised to find him standing just outside the doorway, face ashen and sad, clearly having heard every word.

“Blaine...” he started.

“Let’s go, Kurt,” Blaine said firmly.

“But Blaine…”

“Not now.”

He took Kurt’s hand in his as they left the house, the weight of it a familiar comfort.  Maybe he would talk to Kurt later, but for now his soulmate’s quiet presence was enough.