May 6, 2012, 3:41 p.m.
All You Needed Was Me: Chapter 22
E - Words: 4,865 - Last Updated: May 06, 2012 Story: Complete - Chapters: 35/35 - Created: May 06, 2012 - Updated: May 06, 2012 686 0 0 0 1
"I'm going to start with a bit of my past, okay?" Blaine said. At Kurt's nod, he began, taking a deep breath. "I don't really talk about my dad a lot. That's because we really don't have much to do with each other. It was the same with my mom until you came along. At least I have her. But with my dad, I think after I came out, he figured he'd lost the son he wanted. The son he could mold into the man he is. I never figured out why it would matter who I slept with, but that's just close-minded people for you. Anyway, he is a pretty powerful figure in the banking world. Ergo the money I have access to. As much as he didn't want anything to do with me, he did let me in on some, um, trade secrets, so to speak. He gave me a list of people I could go to in times of need, or when I needed money, or needed odd favors done. I was to memorize the list and then burn it, which I did. I never figured I would have need of any of those names. With practically unlimited money at my fingertips, I didn't think I would need anything else. Then freshman year of college, I got my ass kicked. I ran my mouth at the wrong time, to the wrong person, and he beat the living shit out of me. I was hospitalized and was really messed up. I know I brought it on myself, but I was so pissed, I wanted revenge. I remembered the list my father gave me and I dialed a number. The man on the other line immediately called me 'boss man' and assured me that he could take care of whatever problem I was having. I asked them to beat the crap out of the guy who'd beat me up. And they did. They showed up in black hooded sweatshirts, completely anonymous looking, and worked the guy over. He was in the hospital with worse injuries than me. After that, I started calling those guys up more. To get beer, drugs, whatever it was I wanted. They always made it happen without question. I paid them, they did what I wanted. I never learned any of their names; it didn't seem to matter to any of us. After I joined the Warbler's and found a source of contentment in my life, I didn't need them as much anymore. I stopped smoking pot and drinking so much and just started living life. Then I met you. When I finally got my head out of my ass and realized I cared about you, the protective side of me came to life with a vengeance."
"Karofsky and Azimio," Kurt said quietly with a nod. "That was you."
"Yes, it was. I called in the guys and let them know where to look for those two. I gave instructions to, injure them," Blaine said, stopping himself from saying 'maim' like he'd actually told the guys. "And they did. They are very good at what they do. They never leave evidence or witnesses. Like ghosts, they just go in, do the job and get out."
"Holy shit. Okay. I didn't know how you'd done it, but I figured you had something to do with it. I was too excited by the thought that they would suffer for what they'd done to think about the details of how you did it," Kurt said, his face pale. "What else have you had these men do?"
"The night that you were attacked, I was on my way home from dinner with my mom, you remember?" Kurt nodded. "I stopped off at my room to change and grab some extra clothes. On the way to your room, I saw someone coming toward me. As they got closer, I saw there was blood on their face. I stopped to offer help and realized it was Sebastian. He told me he'd just seen you and he let me know he'd left you razors. I was enraged, Kurt, I couldn't even see straight. Then I found you, laying there in a puddle of your own blood. You told me you were too tired," Blaine continued, tears falling silently down his cheeks. "You said you were too dirty and that you didn't want the ambulance to come and help you. You died in my arms, Kurt. You were dead, you were gone from me. I can't even begin to tell you what that did to me," Blaine said. He had to stop for a moment, to gather himself. Swiping at the tears, he felt a soft hand moving his away. Kurt wiped at his tears, sadness in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Blaine. That was the most selfish thing I've ever done in my life. Please, please forgive me," Kurt begged, unable to stand the tortured expression on Blaine's face.
"Of course I forgive you," Blaine assured him. "I have to keep going though, or I won't be able to get this all out." Kurt sat back and nodded, his expression grieved. "After I got your heart going again and went with you to the hospital, it just started eating at me. I knew who had done that to you. I knew who was responsible for the entire situation. Sebastian had sliced your wrists himself by doing what he did. I was filled with rage, so much it seemed like the room was tinted in red. So I made a phone call."
Kurt took a deep breath, dread settling in his stomach. "What did you do, Blaine?"
Blaine's face went cold. "I took care of the problem."
Kurt shook his head, disbelieving. "But Sebastian died from a heroin overdose," he insisted.
"That is certainly the way it looked. And it looked that way on purpose. If the doctors thought he died from an overdose, they wouldn't do an autopsy or blood test. They wouldn't find that the heroin had been tampered with," Blaine said matter-of-factly.
Standing up, Kurt backed away from Blaine. "You had him killed," he whispered. His face was even more pale and he was shaking from shock.
"I was sitting there when he died. I had to make sure he didn't live because of what he did to you," Blaine stated. "Please come and sit down. I need to finish this," he said.
Kurt came and sat down in the small chair farthest away from Blaine.
Blaine hung his head, but didn't try to fight it. "I was notified before we left for California that the group had a mole. Someone found out about what happened to Karofsky and Azimio. They were telling tales to the Smythe family. And they knew that I was behind it. I was warned to get out of town for a while because some of their own men were going to come to Dalton. I arranged for some guards to discreetly watch over the school while we were gone, just as a precaution," Blaine said.
"The room," Kurt said dully. "That wasn't just some random crime, was it?"
"No, it wasn't. It was retaliation and a warning. My parent's house was broken into as well. Somebody is telling me to back off. Trust me, I'm taking the warning to heart."
"This apartment. You sure found it fast. Why do I have a feeling you knew about the dorm room long before we got home? And please don't lie to me anymore," Kurt said, tired beyond measure.
"I found out the last night in L.A. I made arrangements to find an apartment that night. They were to find a large apartment with lots of windows and an excellent security system. I want to keep you safe, Kurt. Here you are safe. You weren't safe at the dorm," Blaine told him.
Kurt stood and paced in front of the windows. The sun had long since set and it was dark, the only light coming from the kitchen. He found a lamp and turned it on. He looked over at Blaine, paused, then kept pacing.
"We are safe here, Kurt. You don't have to worry about anyone getting to you here," Blaine assured him.
"I'm not worried about my safety when it comes to other people," Kurt told him.
"Good," Blaine said, his tension easing a bit.
"I'm more worried about the fact that I'm living with a killer."
Blaine stared at him in surprise.
"Why are you looking at me like that? You told me you had his drugs tampered with and you sat there in front of him and watched him die. That makes you a killer, Blaine! I knew you had something to do with Azimio and Karofsky, but I let it go because they were going to live and the thought of somebody going that far to avenge me was exhilarating. Now I feel ashamed. But this? To kill someone? I can't just let that pass, Blaine. I can't ignore it and pretend like it didn't happen. And now you have some other gang or whatever coming after you; and through you, me. I now get to fear for my life," Kurt said, his voice full of disgust and shock.
"You don't have to worry, Kurt, I'm making sure you are safe," Blaine tried to tell him.
"What, by surrounding us with trained killers? Huh? Is that your answer to everything? And if these people figure out you killed Sebastian, what then? Do you have the entire Smythe family killed? What happens if I make you mad? What happens if something were to break us up? Would you have me killed because I know all of this now?" Kurt ranted.
"Kurt, god, no, how can you even say that?" Blaine cried, standing and reaching out to him.
Kurt backed away. "How can I say that? How can you so blithely sit there and tell me you had a man killed? Yeah, I'll admit when I found out Sebastian was dead, I was glad, relieved that another of my bullies couldn't get me again. But would I have killed him? No. I would have called the police, made a statement and let the justice system handle it. Did you ever think of that, Blaine?"
Blaine sighed. "All I knew, all I could think of, was that he deserved to die. That he deserved the worst punishment imaginable for what he did to you. I held your lifeless body in my hands, Kurt. Don't you think that would do something to a person?"
"Yeah, I know it would. I do. But it doesn't give you license to go kill somebody. I can't believe this. I've been sleeping next to a killer all of this time. I don't even understand how you sleep at night. How do you?" Kurt demanded, feeling nauseous.
"I sleep just fine because I know scum like Sebastian no longer breathes the same air as you," Blaine said honestly.
"No, you can't do that. You can't sit there and put it all on me. You can't say that you did this for me, Blaine. That's like you're blaming me for what happened to them. It's not true and it's not right. I didn't ask you to kill Sebastian. I didn't ask you to beat up Karofsky and Azimio. You made that decision. You took their lives in your hands," Kurt said, furious and frightened by the man in front of him. He'd thought he knew Blaine. He had been ready to spend the rest of his life with him. "I need to get out of here. I can't be here with you right now."
Blaine's stomach dropped. "Are you leaving me?"
"Blaine, you just confessed that you are a murderer! How could you expect that I would stay? Did you expect me to thank you and just go off to bed like nothing happened? You took a life. I cannot be with a killer. I can't. I thought I knew you, knew the type of person you were, but you are not the person I thought you were. So, yes, I'm leaving," Kurt said, fighting to hold back the tears.
"Please, Kurt, just give me a chance," Blaine pled.
"I can't Blaine. Not right now. I need to be away from you," Kurt told him, trying not to stare at the distraught look on Blaine's face.
"I'll leave then. Please stay here. The alarm system is good and will keep you safe. The apartment is in an anonymous name, so nobody could find you here," Blaine told him, trying to hold back the emptiness that was threatening to engulf him. He had to make sure Kurt stayed safe.
Kurt stared at the floor for several moments. "Fine. I'm going to the bathroom and I'd appreciate it if you would be gone when I get out." He stalked to the bathroom and closed the door. Putting his hands on the sink, he stared at his pale reflection. What the hell had just happened? They'd come in the door engaged, happy, excited to start a new chapter of their life. Then Blaine confessed to murder and Kurt had kicked him out. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself against sobbing out loud. He had done the right thing. Hadn't he? Splashing water on his face, he used the towel that was conveniently there to dry off. Then he sat on the toilet and listened. The living room was silent for a few minutes. Then he heard a dragging sound and the front door closed, beeping again. Blaine was gone. He was alone.
He stayed where he was a few more minutes before walking back into the empty living room. There was a note, envelope, and keychain on the coffee table. He picked up the envelope and peeked inside. There was a huge wad of cash, mostly hundred dollar bills, some fifties. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much it was. Thousands of dollars. He dropped it back on the table and read the note.
Kurt,
I know you probably hate me right now and I guess I don't blame you. I can only hope that with some time to think, you can see that everything I did was to protect you and care for you. I love you more than the air I breathe. I would do anything for you. Please use this money to get things you need that were ruined because of me. I will bring more by in a few days. The fridge should be fully stocked, so you don't have to get groceries right away. The apartment building has a grocery delivery service too, if you'd like. The phone number is near the phone. Don't worry about any bills or anything, I already have it handled. This money was honestly earned, so please use it. If you need ANYTHING, please call me. I love you so much. Please forgive me. Love, Blaine
Kurt dropped the note by the money and went to the kitchen. Sure enough, the fridge was stocked with foods that Kurt approved of. Blaine knew him well. The cupboards were full of things he and Blaine both enjoyed, the teas Kurt liked, the treats they both indulged in. Blaine had done a great job. Too bad he was a complete stranger. Turning off all of the lights, Kurt went up the stairs to the bedroom where Blaine had turned a small lamp on. It was a lovely room with a king size bed, done in Kurt's favorite colors of blue and gray. Digging in his luggage, he got out his pajamas and changed. Crawling into the bed, he pulled the comforter over him and laid there. All he could think about was Blaine saying he'd sat there and watched Sebastian die. Picturing the scene was too much for him and suddenly, he had to run to the bathroom, vomiting up what little was in his stomach. He washed his mouth out and brushed his teeth before returning to the bed. He tried to empty his mind in hopes of getting some sleep. But his thoughts continued to swirl. He was still laying there, in the same position when the sun came up. Because it rose on the opposite side of the building, he just watched the sky slowly get brighter until the entire apartment was bathed in light. He looked at the clock and saw it was eight in the morning. He hadn't slept a wink. Getting up, he took a shower and got dressed for the day. He wore his favorite pair of skinny jeans paired with a Henley and a long sweater. His boots were the final touch to make him feel somewhat normal. Going downstairs, he poked around until he found some coffee and made some, comforted by the familiar smell. When it was done, he added a dollop of creamer to his cup and a spoon of sugar and took it to sit by the windows. He turned the small chair he'd sat in last night and curled his legs under him. The city was beautiful. Watching it come to life before him was soothing. This was normal. This was what always happened. Every day these people went to their cars and the cabs and went places, went to work or school or shopping. These people didn't plan the beatings of people, or the murder of others. Where was the man he loved? Who was he? Was it even Blaine he'd fallen in love with? Or was it some fake persona Blaine had created? He felt like he couldn't trust anything anymore. Two cups of coffee later and he was unpacking his suitcase, carefully hanging his clothes in the closet. He put his bathroom products in the bathroom, taking up two full shelves. He took care in what he was doing, making sure the labels were all facing the same direction and the towel was hung just so. Kurt knew what was going on, though. He was going to crack soon. The tears would start and it wouldn't stop for who knew how long. But until then, he would be productive and get things done. Reading about the security system at the kitchen counter, he set the alarm and left, his messenger back in place around his shoulders. Inside it was the envelope of money from Blaine. He was angry, but he was also sensible. He did need to replace some of his books for school, and some of his clothes.
The first stop was the college where he put in his change of address and purchased new books. He stopped by Jason and Colton's room, but they weren't there. Sighing, he left and took a cab to the nearest department store. Once there, Kurt replaced some of the scarves and gloves that had been ruined. He didn't usually shop at chain stores, but he wasn't in the mood to do any fun shopping. Stopping at the book section, he picked out a couple that looked interesting and a puzzle book. He had a feeling he was going to need something to distract him.
After shopping, he took a walk, not caring that the bags were heavy and he was tired. The air was cold and invigorating. Or at least it would have been if he wasn't so distracted. He had no idea how far he walked, but he finally reached Central Park. He'd been here once since he'd started at Dalton and he found it just as fascinating as he had the first time. Finding a bench, he sat and just watched the people go by. Each of the people who walked by had a story to tell, most probably sadder or more troubling than his. His might win for shock value but that was about it. That woman with the limp and the troubled eyes, what was her story? Had she been abused? Was she going to limp forever? Did someone she love do this to her? Was that person now someone she wouldn't recognize? That man over there, sleeping on the bench. What put him there? Had he trusted someone and been betrayed? Or was it mere circumstance that put him on that bench at this time. Kurt wondered what people thought when they saw him. It was certainly different than it was back in Lima. There he'd been stared at, laughed at, mocked, and told to try and fit in more. Here, he was just one of thousands. He didn't stick out anymore than anyone else. He loved that about this place. But if someone looked at him now, would they see the sadness lurking behind his eyes? Would they be able to tell that the person he loved had turned into a complete stranger? Or would they merely think he'd had a bad day? He spent another hour or so just watching people walk by, telling himself stories about what their lives must be like.
Returning to the apartment some time later, he put away his purchases. It lacked the usual thrill he felt in finding new things. He was back in the chair in front of the window with another cup of coffee when it hit him. The light from the window glinted off the shiny ring he still wore on his left hand. Holding up the hand, looking at the exquisite detail of the markings and diamonds, he knew Blaine had put a lot of thought into the ring. And it broke his heart. How could this person have two such opposite sides? Which was the real Blaine? The stereo that he'd been listening to since he got home serenaded him as he began to cry softly.
I let it fall, my heart,
And as it fell you rose to claim it
It was dark and I was over
Until you kissed my lips and you saved me
My hands, they're strong
But my knees were far too weak,
To stand in your arms
Without falling to your feet
Kurt found himself singing along, tears pouring down his face. He put all his power, all his feeling into the words, singing at the top of his lungs. He didn't care if he disturbed his neighbors. Singing was therapy, he'd always known that. So he sang his hurt out, he sang his heart out.
But there's a side to you
That I never knew, never knew.
All the things you'd say
They were never true, never true,
And the games you play
You would always win, always win.
But I set fire to the rain,
Watched it pour as I touched your face,
Well, it burned while I cried
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name!
When I lay with you
I could stay there
Close my eyes
Feel you here forever
You and me together
Nothing is better
Nothing was better than he and Blaine together. He'd thought so, at least. Now he didn't know. But he knew he missed Blaine already. Missed him so badly, he ached inside as if he'd lost part of himself.
'Cause there's a side to you
That I never knew, never knew,
All the things you'd say,
They were never true, never true,
And the games you play
You would always win, always win.
But I set fire to the rain,
Watched it pour as I touched your face,
Well, it burned while I cried
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name!
I set fire to the rain
And I threw us into the flames
Where it felt something die
'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time!
Sometimes I wake up by the door,
That heart you caught must be waiting for you
Even now when we're already over
I can't help myself from looking for you.
I set fire to the rain,
Watched it pour as I touched your face,
Well, it burned while I cried
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name
I set fire to the rain,
And I threw us into the flames
Where it felt something die
'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time, ohhhh!
Oh noooo, let it burn, oh
Let it burn, let it burn
Kurt let the notes soar around him as he sang. And the pain inside him was like a fire, consuming him whole. Surrounding himself with loneliness and longing for the person he loved more than anything. But it wasn't meant to be. He didn't know that person anymore.
He drank cup after cup of coffee and watched the city pass by his window. The sun set eventually, and Kurt was still sitting there, singing song after song, sipping his coffee. Sometimes the sobs caught him so hard, he had to put his cup down and bend over, feeling as if his insides were ripping out. Other times, he simply wept, grieving for the future he'd been so excited about.
The next morning found him still sitting there, aching after not moving throughout the night unless he had to use the bathroom or make more coffee. The tears had slowed some time before the sun rose. Now he just sat there and stared. He felt empty.
Sometime later, he jumped when he heard the doorbell chime. His heart pounding from being shaken from his reverie, he went to the door and peered through the peep hole. Opening the door, he smiled wanly at Jason and Colton before backing away so they could come inside.
"Hey Kurt, wow, look at this place," Jason said, looking around.
Kurt shut the door and turned to them. "Yeah, it's pretty incredible," he said and was surprised to find his voice raspy and quiet. It must have been from singing for so many hours.
"Kurt, are you okay?" Colton asked, looking at him closely. Pale didn't even begin to describe how he looked. Deep shadows were growing under his eyes and his hands were shaking.
"Okay? What is okay? How can I ever be okay again?" Kurt mused, not really seeing them.
Jason came and took him by the shoulders. "Kurt, look at me," he demanded. "When is the last time you slept?"
Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, truly trying to think, though his brain felt like a mass of cotton. "Um, California, I think."
"Kurt, that was nearly three days ago!" Colton cried. "Sweetie, you need to sleep."
"I can't. I cry too much. The bed is too empty," he mumbled.
Jason looked at Colton who shrugged. Blaine had told them that he and Kurt had split up for a while. He'd asked them to come by and check on him, make sure he had what he needed. Jason could see that all Kurt needed right now was to sleep.
"Come on, buddy, let's get you to bed," Jason said, steering him upstairs, nodding his head to Colton to indicate he should come along.
The two men helped Kurt undress and put his pajamas on. Then all three of them crawled onto the bed, Kurt between them. Colton and Jason wrapped their arms around Kurt who began crying at the close contact. They just laid there, letting him cry. Slowly the sobs turned to whimpering then to hiccups. Finally, they heard Kurt's breathing even out, his body still. When they figured he was in a deep sleep, first Colton rolled off the bed, then Jason when Kurt didn't stir. They surround him with pillows to be a makeshift bed partner. Then they silently went downstairs and cleaned up the coffee maker and cup that Kurt had used. Sitting by the large window, they looked at each other.
"He is a mess," Colton said quietly.
"I wonder if we need to call Juliet," Jason mused.
"Maybe we should just suggest it to Kurt. He doesn't have a problem talking to her anymore. He'd probably be willing to," Colton replied. "I feel so bad for him."
"I know. Engaged for a day and then splitting up. At least he gets this place," Jason said, waving his hand.
"Where is Blaine staying? I figured he'd be at Wes's place, but he wasn't there."
"He's at a hotel. He gave me the number. I guess he didn't want to stay on campus after what happened to their dorm room," Jason said.
"Do you think they'll get back together?" Colton asked. He was unsure what he wanted for his friends, but all he knew was Kurt was hurting in a bad way and he wanted to help.
"I don't know, to be honest. It sounded pretty serious. Kurt doesn't seem the type of person to break up over something small. I hope they do though. They both seem stronger and better when they are with each other," Jason told him.
"Agreed. I wonder if there is anything we can do to, you know, help them along," Colton said with a sparkle in his blue eyes.
"You're adorable when you are scheming," Jason said with a grin. He leaned over and kissed him softly, dragging his tongue along his lower lip.
"Mm, you need to stop," Colton said, as his body immediately reacted. "We'll think of something, won't we?"
Jason stood and stretched. "We can try. But I have a feeling this is going to have to work itself out."
They checked in on Kurt and decided it was safe to leave and let him sleep as long as he needed. As they locked the door and left, their hands reached for each other. After seeing Kurt's brokenness, it brought a desperation to their own love. There was a need to prove to each other that they wouldn't ever have to experience that kind of hurt. They returned to their dorm and made slow, passionate love, whispering promises to stay together forever.