Doctors Need Mending Too

Chapter 7

~Blaine's POV ~ Flashback/Dream Sequence~

"Blaine, baby, I need you to get up."

I could smell the reek of alcohol and immediately knew Danny was drunk even before I opened my eyes. I felt my chest tighten and my fear rise. As much as I wanted to acknowledge his presence, I couldn't get myself to move. So I remained still, very still.

"I need you baby. Please wake up."

The lump in my throat just grew bigger. I knew what's about to come.

"I told you to get the fuck up, Blaine! When I say I need you to do something, you do it okay?"

He was screaming on my face and all I could do was to shut my eyes tighter. I felt his weight hover over my supine body and I could sense the warmth of his breath against my cheek. My heart was racing. He started kissing me along the jaw and I tried to stay as still as I can; - A lick here and there, a small nip against my earlobe. I couldn't get myself to push him away. I wasn't up for any of this. But still.

He had his hands under my shirt and he was hungrily sucking at my neck when he noticed how motionless I was being. My eyes were open by then and when he looked up to see what's up, I met his gaze in cold silence. Danny had the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen but right then; his stare wasn't from someone I knew. They were smoky with alcohol and his pupils were dilated from whatever illegal drug it was he had taken in. Anger started replacing the emptiness in his eyes and he swiftly pulled himself up.

"I'm really not up to this, Dan." I tried reasoning. But if it were possible, he only became angrier.

"I just told you I need you. How selfish can you get?" He was yelling. I was trying to put up a tough front, but I cringed.

"I'm not letting you do this. Not again. Jesus, Dan. I'm not your fucking whore! You were gone like what, two days? You can't just show up in the middle of the night and expect me to pull my pants down for you! Can't you see how belittling this is? We don't talk, we fight on the rare times that we do, you don't go to your classes, you don't go home, you're always angry, you're obsessed over getting what you want, you hit me when you don't. You're a fucking mess and you're trying to take me down with you." I propped myself against my elbows and looked at him straight in the eye trying to look for a clue as to whether I got into the sensible part of him or not. But I found nothing. I know it's a bad idea to push him like this, but I've had enough.

He raised a hand and I knew what was coming next. The sting of the slap didn't even register as painful anymore. I felt empty.

"It's not going to work. You're not beating a blowjob out of me this time."

"You could be such a fucking bitch!" His face was flushed with anger and he started slapping me again and again. The pain finally started to sink in and I decided to protect myself by swinging my arm in front of me to block the blows. But Danny was a good few inches bigger and about thirty pounds more muscular. Not to mention the disadvantage brought about my position. I wasn't exactly succeeding in fighting back.

When he realized he was not hitting me hard enough, he curled his right hand to a tight fist and punched me square on the jaw, then once on the side of my head where I felt my skin split, before following it quickly with a hit on the gut. It blew the air right out of me and I instinctively doubled up. But he never stopped. He kept hitting and hitting. He was also cursing. He called me an ungrateful asshole, that I would be nothing without him, he told me I was selfish, I believe I heard him say I was a fucking whore, but I couldn't bring myself to stop him. I started asking myself. Maybe he was right?

By the time I pulled myself out of my own thoughts, I was prone on the floor and with blood filling my mouth and a painful gash on my left forehead. I felt the bed shift as Danny followed me down. I heard his fly open and turned my head just in time to see him briefly stroke himself, a triumphant smile across his face. He was tugging on my sweatpants, clearly aroused by my incapability to fight back. He has done this not just once in the past and I have given up trying to stop the attack. But not this time, enough is enough.

I coughed out the blood that has pooled in my mouth and struggled to kick him away. I turned my torso so that I was lying on my back and raised a leg. I didn't have much strength left in me, but I pulled my right leg towards me and kicked him the best I could right on the groin. He hollowed in pain and fell on the floor. I quickly pulled myself up and raised my pants before scrambling to my feet and running towards the bedroom door. I made it halfway down the stairs when I felt him grab on my shirt. Losing my balance, I felt my small frame slam against his chest before being pushed against the rail. I was being bent backwards painfully on my hips and I felt like I was going to fall. But Danny had a firm grip on my shirt collar with his left hand and he was choking me with his right. I started seeing dark circles block my vision and I could see his mouth moving without hearing a sound. I was losing consciousness and I knew I needed help. Fast.

"Open up, this is the police!"

"This is your fucking fault you bitch!" Dan glared angrily at me. Alarm was written all over his face. His eyes were restless and he kept glancing towards our front door.

-I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I felt like saying.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Fear was flooding my body and I felt the tears start to swell behind my eyes. I'm not even sure what I'm sorry about. Why do I feel like this is as much as my fault as it was his? Why am I feeling like I've brought everyone around me down? His grip tightened against my neck before he decided to throw me off the rest of the steps. The last thing I heard before succumbing to the darkness was my own head thumping loudly against our wooden floor.

~Kurt's POV~

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Blaine's tearful sobs pulled me out of my dreamless sleep. I saw him curled on himself with his back towards me. As sleep left me, I recalled what has happened in the last couple of hours and realized I was indeed on his bed, gratefully completely clothed. I pulled the blanket a bit to warm myself up and turned to hold his trembling frame. I gently shook him in an attempt to wake him, but his sobs just grew louder and he started thrashing around.

"Blaine!" I said, louder than intended.

"Wake up, it's just a nightmare. It's okay. It's okay, I'm right here." His eyelids flew open and it frantically scanned the room. By this time he was in my arms and I was stroking through his hair.

"It's okay." I repeated. His body relaxed and I felt his breathing begin to even out.

"Nightmare." He whispered.

"Yes, it was nothing but a bad dream."

"I haven't had a nightmare in years."

"Wanna talk about it?" I offered. He flinched, hesitation written all over his face. He remained silent and purposely avoided my gaze.

"It was just a stupid memory."

"It was about Danny wasn't it?"

"Yes." His eyes turned glassy as a new set of tears formed and I watched him swallow hard before he turned his back on me again. I spooned him closer and was glad when he didn't try to pull back. I continued to stroke his hair in an effort to give him comfort and I felt a shiver run through his small frame and before I realized what it was, felt a hint of anger started to rise inside my chest.

"I used to have dreams of the last time he hit me. W-when he almost killed me. I haven't had one in a couple of years, probably due to therapy and because I got too preoccupied with my work."

"Ssssh. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"It was so bad, Kurt. I feel so ashamed of what I allowed him to do. I couldn't even bring myself to admit it to Ellie. I never realized that the memory is still here and that on a day like today, it can come back and bite me in the ass." He said, his left hand mindlessly grazing over his temple scar before slowly rubbing against the rest of his forehead.

"He wanted to have sex with me. God, he was awful when he was drunk. He has this way of making me feel so worthless, dirty and used. So, I said no. That made him go nuts. I had to kick him in the groin just so I could run. H-he beat me up so bad our neighbors had to call the police when they heard all the screaming. D-Danny, he climbed out our fire exit in an attempt to escape. The police said he fell from the 2nd floor exit and sprained his ankle. They arrested him in the alley. I woke up in the hospital and I was lucky to only have a concussion, a lacerated wound on my head and lower lip, a sprained wrist and a couple of bruised ribs."

I remained silent, mainly because I had no idea what to say. But I was glad he kept talking.

"My parents came to see me. You should have seen my dad's face. He was so disappointed in me! H-He said that he warned me, that he told me Danny was no good. Feeling defensive, I told him to fuck off. I told him to stop acting like he gives a shit and to stop taking over my life. I screamed at him saying I never wanted to see him again."

Blaine has started sobbing again. His pain was lingering all over the room and I felt my own tears run down my face.

"That was the last thing I ever told him. The last time he saw me, I had black eyes and a swollen lip because I was too fucking weak to defend myself. I looked like a damn failure. I have proven him right. I was nothing but a mistake."

"That's not true. He loved you, Blaine."

"Maybe he did, but there's no knowing that now, right?"

I fell silent again. Instead, I shifted my hand from his head to start rubbing small circles on his back and allowed him to cry a bit more. A few minutes later, I felt his breathing start to even out and realized that he has drifted back to sleep. The digital clock on his bedside said it was 5.35AM and the sun hasn't even begun to rise yet. But I'm no longer sleepy so I continued to rub his back and tried to remain as still as possible. Half an hour later, my arm started cramping so I slowly pushed him off, careful as so I would not wake him. I massaged on it a bit to let the blood flow before I slowly sat up. I decided to get up and probably start on breakfast.

I stood up and looked around his room. It was as neat as his old room, a couple of thick textbooks were stacked on a shelf by the door, his table had some smaller books piled and an open one, with an orange highlighter placed on top. I walked closer towards the table to eye the pinned photos. The corkboard looked very similar to the one he used to have in high school with a couple of pictures of him with people I don't know. There was one of him in a yellow toga and a medal around his neck. Mr. Anderson was beaming proudly behind him as he received his diploma. One was a magazine cut out of his brother, Cooper too. At the bottom right was a pamphlet about the Pulmonary and Critical Care Medicine Fellowship Program in Montefiore Medical Center, New York. Pulling it off its pin, another piece of paper fell off. It was a small newspaper clipping that looked a bit old.

I would recognize that clip at any given day.

It was the article regarding the launch of KH Unlimited, my clothesline. Unfolding the clipping, I saw my photograph, a huge smile across my face, probably because that was the biggest day of my life.

-Of course he cared. He never actually stopped.

It got me thinking about the reason why Blaine wanted to continue his training in New York but quickly shook it off. I do not want to get ahead of myself.

Suddenly, a feeling of longing filled my heart. The reason why we lost touch all those years is beyond me. But like I've said, distance makes people grow apart. It was inevitable.

-But he never forgot.

A strange but at the same time familiar heat filled my body as I turned to look at his sleeping figure. Suddenly, the sense of responsibility to take care of him felt stronger. I moved closer to his side of the bed and kissed him on the cheek.

"There's no way I'm letting that asshole near you again, Blaine. Ever."