Spiral

            His feet are chained to a block of concrete and he is dragged down, down, down so fast his vision blurs.  His lungs are paralysed, unable to function and his eyes burn.  Santana is frantic, pacing backwards and forwards, one hand clutching the phone, the other gesticulating wildly.  His guts are churning ice and the roaring noise in his ears is deafening so Kurt does not hear a word she says, just watches blindly.  He does not know how long it takes, but eventually his lungs seemingly remember to function and the air stings, with it his body spasms into action.  He has one thought and the sharpness of it leaves him with no choice – he fumbles for his cell phone and dials before he has processed his own actions.

No answer

He does not allow himself the opportunity to overthink his actions – he is overcome with the need to know that Blaine is safe.  He types frantically and sends the message,

Are you OK? – K x

all the while, staring intently at the screen, waiting.  He's terrified to look away – as if that may be the difference between Blaine being alive or shot or wounded or alone or hurt or bleeding or…dead. 

It had been reflex.  That is what he tells Santana later, but the look she shoots him makes him feel utterly transparent and confuses him further.  Now though, he does not think, he just needs to know that he is alright. 

Heard about the shooting…  Please let me know you're OK. – K x

 0 New Messages stares back at him, mocking.

Santana has to physically shake his shoulder to get his attention - he had not even noticed that she had ended the phone call with Brittany.

            ‘He doesn't even go there anymore.  Anyways – Brit says it is over now.  Everyone's fine.'  Her voice is hard but he catches the concern as she settles next to him on the sofa and switches on the television.

The relief that washes over him makes him feel giddy as he realises that Santana is right: Blaine is fine – he transferred back to Dalton and the shooting was at McKinley.  He realises dimly that his heart is pounding and his hands are shaking, and the knowledge is simultaneously terrifying and confusing.  His mind flickers back to when they had been snowed-in: Adam, Santana, Rachel and himself.  In theory it should have been exciting and perfect – spending time with his boyfriend and best friends watching one of his all-time favourites, “Moulin Rouge”.  The reality had been awkward (Santana and Rachel's continuing argument about Rachel's possibly-a-drug-dealer-boyfriend, Brody, non-withstanding) and he had found himself struggling to separate Blaine from the film.  “Come What May” had moved him to tears and he had been beyond confused and frustrated because he was still so angry.  Blaine had ruined everything – they had been perfect, and now Kurt had Adam; but that was the problem – he was trying to move on.  After Mr. Schuester's wedding-that-wasn't, Kurt and Adam had talked and decided to take it slowly, and agreed that they both wanted to take things to the next logical stage, but every time the opportunity arose Kurt found himself making excuses.  He could understand Adam's growing frustration and confusion but Kurt just did not feel right.  Nothing felt right - not anymore. 

The inane chatter on the television and Santana's suggestive staring eventually got to him so he made his way to the relative privacy of his “room” knowing that Santana would force the truth out of him later anyway, he figured he should probably work out what that actually was.  His head was pounding and he found himself obsessively checking his phone as he busied himself, mindlessly rearranging his collection of jackets.  Reasons for why Blaine was not responding to his text messages flooded his mind:

            Blaine could be ill, or hurt, or unable to reply.  Or he's ignoring the messages because he's mad at me?  Maybe he just changed his number, or perhaps he is just really busy and missed the call and the messages.  He probably has no signal, or someone could have deleted the messages before he's had a chance to read them.  He could be dead - No.

Kurt hung his head and carefully dropped his phone onto his bed to prevent himself from hurling it across the room, then flopped, facedown, beside it.  Adam was right, Kurt knew he was – Kurt needed to move on, he needed to get closure and to do that he needed to talk to Blaine.  Yes, Blaine had visited at Christmas, and yes, Kurt had not handled it well – but he had just found out his father had cancer!  Over two months on and he knows now that his father, and Blaine, had only been acting in what they had believed to be Kurt's interest, and the fact that Blaine had agreed to visit had been his way of trying to be Kurt's friend.  He knew that now.  But it did not change anything – Kurt was still angry and hurt, but he was getting less and less sure who he was angry at anymore.  Truthfully, he missed Blaine – not talking to him was like having an organ removed that, yes - he could live without, but not having it left a void that he was unable to fill.  It had settled, an incessant ache, and Kurt had tried to fill the gap.  He had met Adam.  Adam who was handsome, and clever, and made Kurt laugh, but they were not friends.  Not like Blaine had been.

No, not like Blaine.

Kurt sighed and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.  He chewed his bottom lip as he tried to sort through the mess of tangled thoughts – unravelling and untwisting the threads of Blaine and Adam and trying to look at the whole mess objectively.  He furrowed his brow then reached under his bed for the trunk he had thrown everything in on one of the worse days after Blaine's admission.  It was supposed to have been cathartic; however, instead it was Kurt's very own tell-tale heart. 

He stops himself before he opens the trunk – a moment of clarity and he no longer needs to reminisce – he knows what he has to do and why he still has the trunk's contents.

The urge to talk to Blaine in person and not on the phone, is overwhelming.  Kurt rolls back onto his back and closes his eyes, and taking a calming breath, he sees golden irises in their perfect frame of long, sooty lashes.  Yes.  He will talk to Blaine and then he will know what he needs to do.  At least, he hopes he will. 

Kurt reaches for his laptop and checks the dates of his flight – he is due to be in Lima for a week to be there for his father's oncologist appointment – perhaps it would be wise to bundle the pain together?  He runs the dates over in his head then does a quick Google search to find that they should coincide with Regionals, and the Warblers (Blaine) would be competing. 

He resists the urge to check for new messages and instead focuses on reorganising his sock drawer – it is a little thing that he can control and he needs something.

-+-

            It changed things – of course it was going to – but he almost thought it would have been less significant – it is not like he has never given or received a blowjob before.  A part of him (far larger than he expected) feels guilty which is ridiculous (he knows it is ridiculous) because he did nothing wrong.  In fact, he did everything right, multiple times over, that long weekend in the hotel room.  It does not change the fact that Blaine could not relax fully after taking that first step.  It eats at him, intensifying as the days pass once Douglas' presence reduces to nothing but memory and lingering scent.  He pretends it is nerves about the impending Regionals competition or stress over school work.  He almost convinces himself.

Douglas is due to visit the week a snow storm grinds New York to a halt – thankfully his flight departed before the first flakes fell and Blaine finds himself buzzing with anticipation as he waits by Arrivals.

They spend the weekend holed up in the suite again, but this time Douglas leads.  The other man's hand is warm in his as they sit beside each other – Douglas had been oddly pensive during the drive and it had begun to make Blaine feel uneasy.

            ‘I need to talk to you about something.'  Douglas' words are heavy and he catches Blaine's eyes imploringly.

            ‘Oh.'  Something in Blaine's gut twists and he tenses but does not look away.  Instead he turns to face his partner face-on and waits.  They have always been open with each other and Blaine focuses on taking calming breaths, trying to bottle down the rising panic in his throat, and to stop his thoughts spiralling downwards.

            ‘It's nothing bad, Blaine, I promise.'  Douglas' eyes are calm and their intertwined fingers ground Blaine.  ‘How…'  Douglas starts but then seems to think better of whatever he had been about to say and instead drops his eyes for a moment.

            ‘Hey, you can talk to me about anything – you know that.'  Blaine finds himself pulling Douglas in for a gentle, reassuring kiss, suddenly and utterly calm.  The other man's soft hum centres them both and when Blaine smiles, Douglas returns it.

            ‘I…  When I moved to New York I thought I would finally be free – it was very naïve of me to think so, I know, but back then…  Things are better now, of course they are, but some things…some people…they are the same.'  He pauses, his eyes meeting Blaine's and seeming to search them for something before continuing.  ‘I need to know, Blaine.'

            ‘Know what?'

            ‘How you feel.'

            ‘Let me show you.'  Blaine kisses him again, but Douglas pulls back.

            ‘This is not a fairy tale – I'm no prince, and there is no happy ending.  Not for people like us.'

            ‘I don't believe that.'

            ‘I know.'  Douglas smiles sadly.

            ‘What's this all about?'

            ‘I'm going to China in a week, Blaine.  For a month.'

            ‘I know.'

            ‘And…and when I get back I have to present the progress to my father.'  Douglas takes a breath and Blaine wants to kiss away all of the stress and fear and anxiety that roll off Douglas like waves.  ‘I want…  I would like…'  The older man closes his eyes as if to help him gather his thoughts and Blaine waits patiently, oddly calm.  ‘Come with me?' 

It is so quiet that Blaine almost misses it. 

            ‘As your friend or Doug's?'

            ‘As my partner.'

-+-

            The Lima Bean is as busy as Kurt has ever seen it – he had dropped by McKinley to see his friends, though the truth is that Burt had kicked him out of the house.

            ‘I'm jittery enough over this as it is without you hoverin' over me like a mother hen.  Go out – go see your friends.  It'll distract you – do you some good.'

It had been so odd to wander the halls – the same lockers, same teachers, same classrooms, yet different faces, different posters, different voices.  His ghost walks with him, hand-in-hand, whispering

            Courage

when all others pretended to be blind. 

He had found Tina first and had somehow ended up sitting at their usual table with Tina, Artie, Sam, and Brittany half-listening to their stories about The Shooting while he re-arranges scattered sugar packets into perfect little lines.  None of them pushed him for more information on why he was back so he had not felt the need to explain – that was one mercy at least.  He tries not to dwell on it and attempts to focus on Sam's impassioned tale of how he tried to risk his life to save Brittany when he feels him.  His head snaps up and there he is, pristine in Dalton blazer and tie – Blaine. 

The world stops.  Reduces right down to nothing but him.  For a moment he can convince himself that it is the beginning again – between Kurt's leaving Dalton to return to McKinley, and Blaine's transfer to be with him after the summer.  For a moment he is not alone, and he allows himself to feel that strong flutter of anticipation in his chest that he knows will be followed by the pure joy that will flood his veins when Blaine's dark eyes finally land on his own across the room.  But they do not. 

Kurt shakes his head slightly to clear it noticing that this Blaine is slightly taller and more defined.  This Blaine is with some guys Kurt does not recognise though they are all in Dalton uniform.  Then he sees Sebastian and his blood seethes. 

He must have pulled a face because Sam is rubbernecking and Kurt does not manage to pull his attention away from the group of lads before Sam spots them.  The blonde then does the unimaginable – he waves, and Kurt desperately wants the ground to swallow him.  This was not how it was supposed to be.  Yes, he wanted to talk to Blaine – he needs to talk to Blaine, but seeing him – he is suddenly painfully aware that he knows nothing about this Blaine, and he needs time to process.  He needs time.

His heart races, but thankfully Sam gets up and walks over to the small group as they do not notice him, giving Kurt time to turn so that he is mostly hidden by Tina and Brittany, engaging both girls in discussion as quickly as he can by asking them how they felt during the shooting.  It is a low trick, but it works and it is not long before Sam re-joins them.  He yearns to ask Sam whether Blaine noticed him, and if he did, why he did not come over to say ‘hello'.  A small voice in the back of his mind mocks him for being so hypocritical, so he does not ask, and Sam does not offer any information.  Kurt resigns himself to sneaking peeks at the table the uniformed boys settle at. 

Blaine looks well – he smiles and laughs and is obviously friendly with the other three at his table, and Kurt feels a sudden pang.  He swallows painfully and forces himself to try to focus on his own friends at his own table, but he cannot get over the fact that Sebastian is there, sitting right next to Blaine.  A roar of laughter surges over from the other table and Kurt glowers.  Of course, it is then that Blaine's golden eyes catch his own.

            He always caught me.

            Until he let me fall.

He has seconds to decide what to do – whether to acknowledge him, or whether to force his attention back to his own table.  Naturally, Blaine removes the choice for him by standing and walking over – an action which Kurt simultaneously praises and curses him for.

            ‘Hi.'

His voice is polished honey and though his body language is open to the table, his eyes stay on Kurt's.  Kurt feels his pulse in his mouth.

            ‘Blainey-Days!'

It is Tina that envelops Blaine in a fierce hug, effectively breaking the spell on Kurt.  Blaine's smile is bright but Kurt notices that it does not reach his eyes – instead they land on the lines of sugar packets in front of Kurt and he raises an eyebrow in question.  Kurt shakes his head slightly and is grateful in that instant that Blaine seems to be able to still read him well enough to know when to drop something.

            ‘Ready for Regionals?'  Tina manages to seem almost genuine in her interest.

            ‘Of course they are!  I hear you're Captain, Blaine?'  Artie says as he turns to give their visitor his attention.

Blaine is the epitome of gentlemanly charm, and fields Brittany's left-field questions with ease whilst chatting to Artie, Tina and Sam about the Warblers' upcoming competition and their post-graduation plans.  Kurt watches silently, listening.  He is half surprised that Sebastian does not come over to join Blaine, but given the circumstances of their last few encounters he surmises that it is probably for the best. 

            ‘So, I have to go – but don't be strangers, OK?'  Blaine's smile is tight and his eyes flicker to Kurt's again as a scrape of chairs signal that his friends are making ready to leave.

Kurt can almost hear the questioning

            Are you OK?

in Blaine's thoughts, so Kurt forces himself to smile, adding a cursory

            ‘Good luck.'

as the others give their own “break a leg”s and well-wishes.  Then Blaine is gone.

            Not long after, Kurt makes his excuses and leaves, overcome with the need to be somewhere peaceful to think.  He knows that the others will gossip but he cannot bring himself to care as he sits alone in his car staring blankly out of the windscreen.  His eyes sting and he palms them fiercely, putting his sudden wave of emotion down to his worry over his father's results - and it is, at least in part.  Kurt huffs out an unsteady breath as he tries to calm himself down – it was not supposed to be like that.  Kurt had spent days planning how his talk with Blaine would go and this was not it.  His jaw aches where he had clenched it and he rubs at it angrily then forces himself to close his eyes and relax – emptying his mind.  It allows him the ability to analyse without emotion.  It allows him to distance himself; to throw his walls back up.  He knows, objectively, that they need to talk, and he feels that Blaine knows that too – from the looks he gave him at the café. 

Good.

He received no reply to his previous text messages but he sends another one now.

We need to talk.  After Regionals.  I'll meet you after you win. – K

Switching off his phone he starts the car's engine and makes his way back to his father's house – he is not sure when he stopped thinking of it as home.  He may not be able to control the results his father will receive tomorrow, but there is one thing he can – his over-due talk with Blaine.

He runs topics of discussion over in his head as he drives, continually reminding himself that they were both in the wrong – yes, Blaine cheated, but they never really talked about why and Kurt needs to know.  He needs to know how everything went so wrong.  He needs to know so that he can move on - so that he can get over Blaine.  The thing that terrifies him though, that nibbles away at him when he cannot sleep at night, the thing that was so easy to deny or ignore until he was confronted with the man himself, is that he is not sure he can get over him.  He's not sure he wants to.

-+-

            They win.  Of course they win.  He had never doubted that they would.  Kurt paces near the backstage entrance, waiting.  He feels strangely calm after receiving the good news about his father's remission – a weight has been lifted and he feels able to breathe again, to concentrate.  He had received no reply from Blaine to his message and the fact had concerned him – if Blaine wanted nothing to do with him he could have easily ignored him at the Lima Bean.  The previous evening Kurt had finally broken down and talked to his dad about everything – his fear of losing his father (his world), about losing Blaine (his forever), and about Adam. 

            ‘I was wonderin' when you were going to talk to me.  You've been bottled up tight and it's not healthy, but I know there's no point in pushin' – you talk when you're ready.'

They had talked for hours and Kurt had felt lighter now than he had in months.  His dad had had just listened while he poured his heart out and when Kurt had finally finished, raw and exhausted, Burt had held him.

            ‘I just feel so lost, Dad.  Seeing him…it hurt.  Why does it still hurt?  When does it stop hurting?'

‘You still love him.'

‘I'm with Adam.'

‘Yeah, but you don't love Adam.  I know you, Kurt.  When you love - you love with everything you got.  Look, I love you, Kurt, but I can't tell you how to live your life.  Yes – Blaine messed up, but you never really talked about it.  Talk to him - see what he has to say.  It doesn't mean you have to get back together – you probably shouldn't rush back into anything anyway, but he was your friend first right?  Talk to him.'

            The sound of the door opening dragged Kurt from his thoughts and he was greeted by a swarm of Dalton uniforms, some – Nick, Jeff and a couple of others he recognised – he congratulated as they passed and they exchanged a quick flurry of greetings.  The energy flowing from the group was infectious and Kurt found himself almost physically jittering as he scanned for familiar slicked dark hair. 

            ‘Have you seen Blaine?' 

            ‘He should be out in a moment – I think he and Hunter went to put the trophy in the bus.'  Trent provided helpfully. 

Kurt thanked him and was about to offer his congratulations when someone led him firmly to the side by the elbow.

            ‘Why are you here?'

Green eyes bored into his own as Kurt prised Sebastian's hand from his arm.

            ‘I'm not wholly sure how that's your business, but I'm here to congratulate a friend.'

            ‘What if he doesn't want your congratulations?'

            ‘Then he can tell me himself.'

            ‘Is everything OK?'  Trent's concern was palpable and his eyes flitted nervously between the two men.

            ‘Fine, Trent.  Just catching up with Hummel here.'  Sebastian is all smiles and, though he does not look convinced, Trent retreats when Kurt affirms Sebastian's statement with a small nod.

            ‘What's your play here?'  Sebastian's voice is low and Kurt cannot help but laugh.

            ‘Please do tell me what exactly this has to do with you.'

            ‘Don't you think you've hurt him enough?'

            ‘Hurt him?!'

            ‘Get over yourself, Kurt.  You know it wasn't all on him.'

            ‘And I suppose you're the expert on my and Blaine's relationship now?'

            ‘What relationship?'

            ‘We're friends.'

            ‘Yeah.  Friends.  Good one.  Friends don't abandon friends in a city they don't know with nowhere to stay!'

            ‘I'm not defending myself to you.'

            ‘Look, he's just starting to be himself again.  Leave it be.'

            ‘When did you become so concerned about Blaine?  You almost blinded him!'

            ‘I'm a better friend to him than you have ever been!'

            ‘Yeah, that's all you ever wanted to be - his friend!  Pull the other one!' 

Sebastian clamps his jaw shut and Kurt can see the muscles twitch under the surface.  They are both panting and it dawns on him that everyone is watching them.  Sebastian takes a breath then catches Kurt's eyes.

            ‘Please, Kurt, believe me when I say that I truly want what is best for Blaine.'

            ‘He is perfectly capable of deciding what that is.'

            ‘But he's not.  Not when it comes to you.  When it comes to you, Kurt, he can't think straight.  He's been a mess - I am not exaggerating - ask any of them.  What do you want from him, and don't say you want to be friends because you'll never be “just friends”.'

Kurt feels unbalanced.

            ‘I…  I don't know.  I just know I need to talk to him.'

            ‘Why?  What good will it do?'

            ‘I don't know – but I need to.'

            ‘For you, right?  What about what Blaine needs?'  Sebastian drops his eyes slightly and sighs.  ‘Look - he's finally moving on – he's in a relationship and I think it'll be really good for him.  Let him go, Kurt.  Let him be happy.  Move on.'

His eyes sting and he forces himself to look away but when he looks back Sebastian is gone.

            ‘He's right you know.'  Trent's voice is soft and so sympathetic that Kurt wants to bludgeon him in that instant. 

            ‘He was really that bad?'

            ‘He came back to us.'

            ‘And he's happy now?'

The other boy does not get a chance to respond.

            ‘Kurt?'