May 13, 2013, 2:59 p.m.
Too Late: Chapter 24: Push
T - Words: 3,586 - Last Updated: May 13, 2013 Story: Complete - Chapters: 35/35 - Created: Mar 25, 2013 - Updated: May 13, 2013 138 0 0 0 0
"This is impossible," Kurt complained.
For once he was draped over the couch at Blaine's apartment instead of his own. They'd made a smart decision after the explosive fight Finn and his girlfriend, Quinn, had had during Glee Club an hour earlier. Instead of heading anywhere that might house Finn, they'd come here instead, risking awkward questions from Jack.
"It's not," Blaine said as he stretched his legs under the coffee table. He was on the floor, with the coffee table in front of him, the surface littered with scribbles and notes and lists of possible ways to talk to Dave Karofsky. "We just have to get him alone for a little bit."
"Oh, right, because that's worked out so well in the past," Kurt said. He sat up only to flop back onto his stomach and circle his arms around Blaine's neck. "I think we should just forget about it. Maybe you just have to wait for him to come to you."
Blaine shook his head as the front door opened. That wasn't the solution. David Karofsky was a terrified boy with a huge secret. But as long as he ignored it, as long as nobody seemed suspicious, then he was safe to continue his bullying rampage at McKinley. Since Valentine's Day, his taunts and shoves had increased ten-fold, not only for Blaine, but especially for Kurt. It made Blaine all the more sure that Dave had a crush on one of them and was acting out in the only way he felt was safe.
"Blaine?" Jack's boots stamped around the hall and scattered snow everywhere. "Since when are you h– oh, hi. You must be Kurt."
Kurt practically leap up from where his chin had been resting on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine didn't blame him. He hadn't mentioned anything to Jack about their tumble into boyfriend status. Jack wouldn't understand that. If anything, he'd think a lot less of him and the purposeful harm he'd think Blaine was causing.
"Yeah, Jack, this is Kurt," Blaine introduced, watching Jack's eyes narrow at their still clasped hands. "Kurt, this is my brother, Jack."
The two shook hands and Jack gave a little nod to Blaine. "You wanna help me with something in the kitchen for a minute?"
Kurt's hand tightened around Blaine's, but Blaine only shrugged as he stood up. Jack wasn't stupid enough not to see the obvious. He'd have to explain it as best he could. Blaine climbed to his feet, and followed Jack towards the kitchen.
"I didn't really have any plans for dinner," Jack said quickly. "Like, there's nothing in here." He yanked the refrigerator door open and waved at the empty shelves and the half empty jar of horseradish. "Um, should we order pizza?"
"Yeah, that's fine," Blaine said. He watched Jack dig through the drawer of take-out menus. "Listen, he– Kurt and me, we're boyfriends, Jack. And I know that sounds insane."
"They said you might have a lot of weird things going on," Jack told him distracedly. He plucked a pizza menu out and looked for a number. "Well, weird for us, not for them. But I'm happy for you two, really. You've already helped that kid a ton, I can tell. Just don't–"
"He knows," Blaine cut in. "He figured out that I'm dead. So, um, he knows about you by extension, too. We don't have to pretend around him."
"He figured– how in the hell did he manage that?" Jack stared at him and then at the doorway to the living room.
"After fifty years, I guess I kind of leave a trail," Blaine said sheepishly. "And this isn't the first mission I've had with Kurt. The last one was when he was a kid, but he remembered a lot of it."
"Huh," was all Jack said. He stared at the doorway a moment longer, then shrugged. "Pepperoni good?"
Blaine nodded. "Yeah, Kurt'll eat any kind of pizza if you sit it in front of him."
Kurt was stretched out on the couch again when Blaine returned.
"He knows you know," Blaine explained as Kurt snuck a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Oh, good, cause I want to kiss you properly," Kurt smiled and instead of kissing him on the mouth, pressed his parted lips against the curve of Blaine's jaw. "So," he murmured, with a soft suck at the smooth skin under Blaine's earlobe. "Can we stop planning and watch a movie? Maybe a movie in your room?"
"Y- yeah," Blaine agreed as he started tucking loose pages into notebooks and flipping them closed. "Got any– oh, right there– in mind?"
"Well, Finn said there's this new action movie called Stamina," Kurt whispered. "I rented it since it sounded like something you'd enjoy. We always watch my favorites, so I figured it was your turn to pick."
"Would you two get a room already?" Jack called from the doorway of the kitchen. "God, can't a dead guy take a nap on his own couch without two randy teenagers making out on it?"
The first thing Kurt told him when they got to school the next day was that he was grounded for being home late. But Blaine was still invited over. It was the strangest thing he'd ever heard and made no sense, but at the same time it kind of did. Burt wanted Kurt to honor his curfew, but also knew how limited their time together was growing. It was the first week of March now, and as Blaine said goodbye to Kurt outside of his last class, he tugged his watch out of his pocket and popped it open.
Three months and two weeks. That was all the time he suddenly had left. Somehow he'd spent six months here and, while he had a boyfriend and had managed to start talking about everything he'd been through, he didn't feel any closer to getting through it.
He let Sam and Finn argue and lift during class, and chose to watch instead. Across the room, Karofsky was pumping away with Azimio. Somehow he had to talk to him, to try to get him to open up or at least get him to stop what he was doing to Kurt. By the time they'd all showered and were heading to Glee, Blaine was still at a loss. He couldn't just walk up to Karofsky and ask him to talk. He'd get drown in a toilet for even trying.
No, he'd have to find him when he was on his own. Somewhere that a bunch of other people wouldn't be.
"Hey! Hey, earth to Gelmet!"
"Ouch!" Blaine winced as Puck's fingers got stuck in his hair and were tugged free, along with a number of his hairs.
"Dude, you've been, like, spacing out since class started," Finn said as Sam leaned over Blaine's head and examined his hair.
"No bald spots," Sam announced. "You've got some killer spikes now, though. Looks like Kurt's been running his hands through there."
"Ugh, Kurt always makes me wash it out first," Blaine said, then turned red as Puck and Sam started whistling and catcalling. "You guys are horrible. I'm going to go fix this."
Against their complaints, Blaine ducked into the first boys' bathroom on their way towards the choir room. He listened to their shouts echo away as the door closed behind him. As he turned into the long bathroom and headed towards the first sink, someone flushed the last toilet. Blaine didn't usually have difficulties with other boys in the bathrooms. Nothing compared to what Kurt had, and still, endured. There were a handful, namely Azimio and Karofsky, who would give him a hard time, but mostly he was left alone.
Blaine turned to the sinks and thumbed the tap on. His hair was a mess. Thick strands, clumped together with gel, were standing straight up like he'd been electrocuted. With a grimace, he dug his comb out of his bag and started to wet it.
"Girls' room is next door," a voice snarled from his right.
Blaine glanced over, and was actually relieved to see Dave Karofsky scrubbing his hands at the last sink.
"Hello Dave," Blaine said, trying not to sound too happy. He was supposed to loathe this boy and be at odds with him. The last thing he needed was someone else figuring out his story. "I thought you'd gone home."
"I– just get out of this bathroom, you pervert," Dave snapped.
"I'm just fixing my hair," Blaine replied. He raised his hands and tried to appear as passive as possible.
"Whatever."
As Dave tugged a few paper towels from the dispenser, Blaine quickly combed his hair back into place and turned to him. "Have you ever thought about why you hate me and Kurt so much?"
Dave dried his hands roughly and glared at him. "Cause you're fags."
Blaine closed his eyes and followed him into the hall. "I mean, like, seriously thought about it. Cause me and Kurt? We just want to live our lives like everyone else. Be in love and go to college and get jobs and cars and have someone we love to come home to at the end of the day. Don't you want that?"
Two fists clenched around his shirt and slammed him back against the wall. Blaine flinched and took a deep breath. This wasn't his life. There was no Lee or Michael or Jeff. This was Kurt's time and there was a scared, strong boy about to ruin his entire life because of fear. He had to control his own if he was going to help Dave do the same.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Blaine said simply as his chest shook and his limbs ached with fear. "It's okay to be scared of how you feel. I was for a long time."
"I don't want any of the things you want!" Dave let him slid down the wall, his face red with fury and his fists clenched. "I don't want any of your faggot dreams, okay? Get out of my face!"
"There's nothing wrong with how you–"
Wham!
His back hit the wall, his head bouncing off the tile as Dave's fist pulled back for another blow to his eye. Blaine's vision swam and little dots popped up in his sight.
"Hey, stop! Come on! I'm trying to help you!"
"Why don't you go fuck your little princess bitch instead?"
Dave moved to hit him again, and Blaine, suddenly furious, ducked and barreled his shoulder into Dave's gut. The momentum carried them across the narrow hall, and Blaine took a step back as Dave leaned against the other wall.
"Jesus, what is wrong with you?" he snapped. "Kurt is a wonderful guy and you're– are you so scared you have to ruin his life, too?"
Dave glowered at him, raised his fists as Blaine gingerly touched his eye. It was already swelling.
"I'm not doing this, I don't care if it means I fail," Blaine said. "You aren't worth it. And the fact that you think it's okay to belittle Kurt because you can't handle your own feelings just makes you pathetic."
Blaine stormed away, heading as quickly as he could to the choir room. He didn't care what Dave Karofsky did. Anyone else could at least admit to themselves who they were, couldn't they? At least his bullies hadn't been closeted. They weren't hating themselves like Karofsky was.
"What happened to your eye?"
Kurt was suddenly in front of him, and the rest of the group had stopped to stare. Oops.
"It's nothing," Blaine said as Kurt race a finger over the tender skin. "It's– later." He gave Kurt a pointed look and despite his concerned expression, he nodded. They didn't need to say it to understand each other.
"Dude, if it was Karofsky, I'm going to–"
"I handled it, Mike," Blaine said tiredly. "I don't think he'll bug me again. Not for a while."
"But–"
"Just drop it, guys. We have Regionals next week, we need to get back to practice."
Kurt kissed his cheek. "I'll get you some ice, okay?"
"Thanks."
"Ouch!"
It was the last word Burt had wanted to hear when he stepped through his front door. He shut the door and shrugged out of his coat as Blaine's voice yelped from the kitchen again.
"Would you stop squirming?" Kurt snapped as Burt entered the kitchen. The two boys were seated at the counter, Blaine's back to the entry way as Kurt held an ice pack up to his face. "God, you're worse than Finn. Just hold still and keep this on your eye."
Blaine did as Kurt ordered as Burt circled around to get a look at them.
"You get hit in gym class or something?" Burt asked.
When the two boys exchanged a look, Burt's stomach knotted. This black eye was no accident, which could only mean–
"You got in a fight?" Burt said in disbelief. "Are you– who the hell hit you?"
"Dad, please, it wasn't– it's complicated," Kurt said as Blaine winced and started to pull the ice pack away. "Stop moving it, Blaine!"
"But it's cold and my eye is too sore for this," Blaine tugged it away and leaned back out of Kurt's reach. Burt winced as he got a good look at Blaine's face. "It's not that bad."
"You seen a mirror since you got that shiner?" Burt asked. He looked Blaine's left cheek and eye over. Almost every visible inch of skin was off-color. The skin around his eye was a nasty shade of purple and blue and spread down his cheek like it was melting. "Who hit you?"
"It doesn't matter," Blaine said quickly.
"Like hell it doesn't," Burt said and both boys looked at him in surprise. Of course he was furious. The very fact that both of them seemed to think he wouldn't be only made him more angry. "Who hit you? Your knuckles aren't cut or bruised, so this wasn't some two-way fight, kid. I've had more than my fair share."
"It's– he only hit me once," Blaine muttered. "I got him well enough after he said Kurt was–"
Blaine stopped and Kurt frowned at his words. Burt's skin tingled unpleasantly as the two exchanged another, silent glance. They'd been doing that for weeks now, giving each other little half-second looks that held entire conversations Burt would never find a way into. It was remarkable to see how quickly they'd tuned into each other, but right now it was also annoying.
"Either one of you spills or I'm completely grounding you," Burt said to Kurt. "Don't give me that look. Someone hit him and I want to know who it was."
"Mr. Hummel, it was Karofsky." Blaine pressed a finger against his cheek and winced in an attempt to distract Kurt. "I tried to talk to him and things got... well, they got heated, to say the least."
"No kidding," Burt said. He clenched his fists as he sat down at the table. "Why were you even trying to talk to that asshole anyway?"
Kurt glared at both of them. "Dad, he's just a kid, and you," he jabbed Blaine in the chest with his finger. "We said we weren't telling him. His heart can't–"
"My heart is just fine," Burt snapped. Kurt bristled, but fell silent. "Kurt, I get your concern, and I love the hell out of you for it, but I don't want you keeping things like this from me. It's been five months and I'm healthier than I was before my heart attack. I need to know about these kinds of things. Tell me what is going on."
Another look, just as meaningful and silent as the last. Burt watched them, from the slow blinks to the little eyebrow raises. They really were something else entirely. It was almost like he was looking in on himself and Elizabeth twenty years ago.
"Dad, we think Karofsky's gay," Kurt finally said. "And he's– well, Blaine thinks helping him is part of his mission."
"He's part of the solution somehow," Blaine muttered darkly. He kicked at Kurt's chair and frowned. "As much as I wish he wasn't now. But he is. He's your bully, so he's part of what I have to face."
Burt watched him for a long moment. He looked more like a moody teenager than Burt could ever recall. Normally, Blaine was a little gentlemen. Dapper is the word Kurt used for him, but right now he was just another angry seventeen-year-old.
"What makes you think he's gay?" Burt asked.
"He kept asking Blaine about us and then Blaine tried to talk to him when he had the chance and," Kurt paused uncertainly.
"His reaction to what I said was answer enough," Blaine finished. "And what he said about Kurt... I don't think I can do this. If he's going to act like that and say those kinds of things about you..."
Kurt rubbed one of Blaine's thighs and forced him to put the ice pack back on his eye. "He's just scared, Blaine. We were both that scared once."
"Were we?" Blaine wondered. "I was scared of how everyone would react, but I don't think I was ever that scared of myself. Not scared enough to become such a jackass."
Burt nodded. "You two should leave this kid alone. He's going to give you both nothing but trouble. He might need help, but he clearly doesn't want it right now. I don't want either of you getting hurt from all of this."
Blaine shook his head warily. "I still have to do something. Even if I don't want to. That's why I'm here, and he's part of this."
Burt started to argue, but Kurt's words made his gut tight.
"Maybe you aren't the one who has to help him."
"What? Kurt, I'm here to–"
"To help me and to face your past," Kurt said. "You've helped me more than I ever thought I needed since you got here. And you have started to face your past. You've opened up about it and you're learning to move on from it. Isn't that what you're here for?"
"Yeah, but I have to face it, too," Blaine argued. "In its new form and that's Karofsky."
"But is facing it the same thing as reliving it?" Kurt asked. "I don't think it is. You can try to relive something as much as you want, but you can't ever recreate the same situation exactly. Reliving what happened, even what led up to it, won't change anything."
An eerie silence fell in the kitchen. Burt couldn't deny the truth of Kurt's words, and clearly Blaine couldn't either. Truly facing his death would mean also realizing that ultimately it was unchangeable. There was no going back to that day or his old life and redoing anything. Blaine had died in 1960 and no amount of reliving those traumatic days or hours could alter that now.
"You're right," Blaine said quietly. "I can't change it, but I'm here to help you and to make sure that doesn't happen to you, Kurt. I can't change or relive what happened, you're right, but I can make sure you have the future I can't."
"You've already done that," Kurt said. He gently took Blaine's hands in his and kissed each of them. "Blaine, you gave me my life back. You gave me the courage to remember how brave I can be. Now I think it's time for me to start using that to make sure my own future has a chance to be my past some day."
"No," Burt said louder than he'd wanted to. "You aren't going near that kid anymore. Not on purpose, Kurt. He's only trouble and–"
"He's part of this," Kurt reminded him. "Somehow he's part of how this ends, and I'm not alone. I've got Blaine and everyone in Glee to back me up. This is already different because of what Blaine's done for me."
"Kurt's right. Again," Blaine said when Burt started to protest. "He's a lot like Lee was. Not entirely, but enough. I don't think he was gay – I'm pretty sure he wasn't – but I don't want the same thing happening to Kurt. Or Karofsky. I don't want anyone to have any part of what happened to me ever again."
"Kid," Burt sighed and shook his head. "Look, I get that. I do, but Kurt is my son. I don't care if this Karofsky kid needs help if it means putting Kurt in that kind of danger. I'm not risking my boy for that."
"It's not your choice, Dad. I'm not sure it's entirely mine either."
"No, you're– there's always a choice," Burt insisted. But both boys only shook their heads at his foolish words. He knew they were hollow before he'd even said them. Life wasn't always about choice, at least not the ones he wanted to make. If it was Elizabeth would still be here. If it was Blaine would be as old as Burt's father right now.
His little boy, the little man he'd stumbled his way through raising. Kurt was only sixteen. He was too young to already be harden to accept these sorts of things. But there wasn't an eight-year-old sitting at the counter demanding extra purple sprinkles on his sundae anymore. There was a strong, brave young man holding his boyfriend's hand and explaining what he knew was right to do. There was no choice for Kurt. There was no choice in any of it for Burt either.
"It'll be okay, Dad. I promise."
Blaine quickly agreed and swore to be by Kurt's side constantly, but none of their words could change the dread filling his gut. Kurt wasn't a little boy anymore, and that wasn't something Burt wanted to face right now. All he wanted was his son to be happy and to have the childhood he'd mostly missed. But he couldn't give him that now. If there was no going back and reliving for Blaine, then there wasn't for any of them either. All they had was right now.