sirenspull_logs | I don't know where you're goin', or when you're comin' home

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I don't know where you're goin', or when you're comin' home

Who: Klaine
When: Late Saturday night.
Where: The BC.
Summary: Kurt finally figures out what Blaine's been hiding.
Warnings: Ugh everything. Ugly fighting, talkin' about drug use, sort-of-bordering-on-domestic-violence and yeah. Unpleasantness. 8(

'Just... it's the kinda thing guys do when they're up to somethin' real shady.'

Those words had repeated in Kurt's brain like a scratched CD ever since Kanji had spoke them, but he'd done everything he could to push them down, making excuse after excuse for Blaine's increasingly erratic behavior as it gradually worsened. The fight about money had been an off-color moment for both of them, he'd told himself, blaming himself entirely for the way Blaine had reacted that day. I've been too harsh on him. He's stressed. He has a lot on his plate. He's adjusting.

The more time passed, though, the more those excuses seemed to fall thin. After all, they'd both died on that day, and--and Kurt was fine, wasn't he? He thought he was fine, but then-- Blaine had seen me die, he reminded himself. How would I have reacted, if our roles had been reversed? If I had been the one to see-- Right.

It had been enough to calm his unease for the week after they'd made up, but those words were still there in the back of his mind. They grew especially loud when Kurt was alone in the apartment, cleaning the bedroom and stopping short of searching through Blaine's drawers, underneath the bed, the closet.

What would you even be looking for? he asked himself, and went about his business, easily distracted by the everyday goings-on of the Port.

When he finally found them, it had been an accident.

He'd been arranging things in the medicine cabinet, getting rid of old bottles and replacing them with new ones, and he'd came across a bottle marked 'ibuprofen'. The bottle wasn't full of ibuprofen, though. The pills looked wrong. He spilled a few into his hand, examining them, and bit his lip, confused.

It's just medicine or something. Maybe he got them and forgot to tell me. It's nothing. I'll just ask him and that'll be that. It'll be nothing.

Right.

He put the pills back and went about his business, walking into the bedroom to organize and make the bed, and he stopped near the chest of drawers. Before he could talk himself out of it again, he flew toward Blaine's drawer, tugging it open and searching wildly through it. Please please let there be nothing here, there's nothing, they were just medicine, it's--

His hand stopped cold when it brushed against a small box. Slowly he dragged it out, waiting and stalling as long as he could before opening it. When he saw what was inside he threw the box down as if it were a tarantula, springing back in horror.

Another bag of pills, a razor blade, and a mirror. Why. Why why why this isn't happening. This can't be happening. He stumbled out of the room and into the kitchen, downing two glasses of water. A good twenty minutes passed before he went back into the room to retrieve the box, and he tucked it carefully into his jacket and moved back into the living room.

Lowering himself onto the couch, he started to cry.

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Blaine comes home after work, tired and ready for bed. He loved his work and didn't want to do anything else, but it was still draining. He had to be on his A game and the new pills weren't helping to keep him there. Maybe he needed more of them?

He rubbed at his neck as he quietly came into the room and closed it. He was so thankful that he could come back here. It was comforting, with how crazy everything had been for him lately, that he could come back here.

He didn't notice Kurt at first, mostly because he thought everyone would be asleep, but Kurt was sitting on the couch right in front of him.

Kurt had cried until he was exhausted, and sat curled up on the couch, knees drawn up to his chest. He'd debated calling someone--a friend, or someone who knew something about this sort of thing, had any idea of what to do. That--hadn't felt right, though. After all, Blaine had been keeping this a secret from him. Surely he'd been hiding it from everyone else.

Or maybe not, he thought, his stomach falling away. Maybe everyone else knew and I was just too stupid to realize it.

Miserable, he sat there slumped until he heard the door open and straightened up. His stomach lifted from where it had fallen and twisted itself up into knots, and he tried to keep his composure. It wouldn't do to start freaking out first thing, especially if this were some sort of misunderstanding.

He prayed that it was. "Blaine. Welcome home."

"Hey," Blaine said after a moment, smiling when he heard Kurt. When he moved around to look at him though the smile faded somewhat. He was focused on Kurt's face that he didn't even notice the box was on the couch too.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

When Blaine moved closer Kurt turned away. His shock and disbelief were moving, changing, and now he was starting to feel angry. How dare you, he thought. Did you think I was stupid? That you could just hide something like this and lie to me when we promised--you promised...

Kurt got to his feet abruptly, needing to put space between him and Blaine. He took the box with him, and lifted it up as he turned to face his boyfriend at last.

"What the hell is this?"

Blaine felt the world crashing around him as Kurt presented him with the box. He stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open slightly in shock.

"You've been looking through my things?" he asked after a moment, before realizing it would have been better to deny knowing what the box was.

"Really, Blaine?" Kurt snapped, the anger boiling forth unchecked. The tears were gathering up in his eyes again, and he wished they wouldn't. He hated how weak they made him look.

He couldn't help it, though; he just felt so betrayed. How could Blaine do something like this, after everything they'd been through--

"That doesn't really seem like much of an infraction compared to what you've been hiding from me." He took another step back, clutching the box tightly. "How long, Blaine? Tell me how long."

"Look," Blaine said, hands moving up defensively as he reacted to Kurt's anger. "It's not what you think."

He didn't want to do this. He couldn't think clearly and they had finally gotten back together after their horrible fight. He didn't want to have another one. This had to be some kind of horrible dream. He was too stunned by coming home and finding his secret laid out to react properly.

"I need them, okay? I was just so tired all of the time. They're the reason I've had so much energy lately. I needed them to work."

Of course, that's what he had told Kurt when Kurt had asked him about the money, that he had 'needed it to work'.

"Okay, so it's no big deal, huh?" said Kurt lightly, practically shaking with rage. "So it's fine if I just dump them down the sink, then?"

He walked over to the sink, opening the box as he went.

"What? No!" Blaine followed after him. "Didn't you hear me? I need them! Jesus, Kurt, first your own my case all the time for being tired and unhappy and now you're going to take away the one thing that makes me okay again?"

There was that panic again. That panic making him react in anger.

Kurt moved fast and ripped out the bag, dumping its contents into the sink. The little pills rattled as they scattered every which way through the metal basin, and Kurt reached down to push them toward the drain.

"Stop!" Blaine yelled. His power pushed, yanking Kurt back away from the sink so that he could rush to it and try to save any of the pills he could reach.

He didn't even consider that he might have unbalanced Kurt with the shove.

Startled and thrown off balance, Kurt stumbled back, barely catching himself on the table before he could fall. He righted himself and stared over at Blaine in horror, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

He forced himself into action, thinking quickly, and ran for the sink again. Grabbing onto Blaine's arm, he tried to pull him back, or at least impede him long enough for the pills to roll down the drain.

It worked, at least for a moment. A few pills disappeared down the drain, though plenty still rolled free.

"Stop," Blaine yelled again, lashing out again, this time much more blindly. It was more of a shock wave that spread out through the kitchen. He didn't mind the things that broke around them, or the way he forced Kurt back. He was much more concerned with saving what he could from the sink.

This time Kurt was pushed too hard and too fast to react and steady himself, and he was thrown like a doll to the ground. Crying out, he landed with an ugly thud on the tile floor, and could hear the sound of dishware rattling and breaking through the kitchen.

Despite the fact that his body was aching, he still pushed himself to his feet--but instead of moving toward the sink he walked to the bathroom instead. Determinedly he grabbed the bottle of pills from the cabinet and unscrewed the lid, intending to dump this one out as well.

Blaine saved what he could, holding the pills carefully, before he follows Kurt. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his vision blurry with rage and tears. "I need them, Kurt. Things hurt too much without them."

Kurt could barely see either. He wheeled on Blaine, frustrated tears streaming down his face.

"Things hurt?" he echoed, his voice shrill and cracking. "You think things don't hurt for me too? For anyone else?"

He unscrewed the cap and dumped the bottle's contents down the toilet, flushing them down. Then he moved toward Blaine, holding out his hand. It was shaking wildly, and Kurt realized it wasn't just from anger-- It was from fear.

"Give them to me."

Blaine pulled back. "No," he said. "No. You can't have them. I need them, Kurt. Can't you understand that?"

He was about to run. His body was already turning to leave. He didn't care that he didn't really have anywhere to go or that it might be dangerous to leave. He didn't want to stay here and let Kurt lay down the one thing he was trying to hide.

Is he on them right now? Kurt thought suddenly. What are they, anyway? Oh god, how long has he...?

"Were you high then?" he asked, tears streaming down his face. "When we-- All those times? Were you high, Blaine?"

Blaine looked devastated. After a moment, instead of answering he moved towards the door, wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

"Stop!" Kurt cried, running after Blaine. His legs were longer, so he managed to slip in front of the other boy and reach the door first. He pressed up against it, blocking it with his body.

"Don't you dare run away."

Blaine looked around helplessly, trying to find a way to escape, but he was trapped in his apartment with Kurt there judging him for all of the mistakes he had been making. He held the precious few pills he had been able to save close to his body, protecting them.

"I'm not moving," he said firmly, though he was honestly afraid. It occurred to him as an almost idle thought-- I'm scared of Blaine. I'm scared of my boyfriend..

"You said you regretted running away," he said softly, almost a whisper.

"That was before you knew," Blaine answered pathetically, almost close to crying.

Kurt held out his hand again. "Give them to me," he repeated.

Blaine shook his head and stepped back. "No." Panic was choking him, but there was no where to run. "No. I need them."

"No you don't," Kurt all but shouted in reply, furious. Then he took a breath and tried to calm himself down, keeping his voice steady, stepping closer.

"Give them over and I'll get rid of them, and we can talk about this. We can work it out. Okay?"

Blaine flinched at the screaming. "No," he said again, almost frantic. "No. I'll keep them and we can talk." He closed his and kept it close to his chest. His second hand closed over it.

"Goddamnit, Blaine!" Kurt cried, losing his temper. "Just give them to me! Why is it so hard? You're acting like a child!"

Edited 2012-02-11 08:33 (UTC)

"Because they're mine and they're the only thing that helps me feel normal," Blaine spat out. "Why can't you just let me keep them, you already threw away most of them."

"For God's sake--" This was so ridiculous, so-- This wasn't supposed to be happening. Blaine was supposed to be coming home from work to a tired but happy Kurt, who'd already have a snack made that they'd eat together on the couch, snuggled up in front a romcom-- And then they'd go to bed, and maybe make love, and fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted but content, and not--this.

Never this.

Kurt stepped forward, reaching for Blaine's hand, trying to take the pills. He needed them gone. Once they were gone and out of the picture, he could calm down, approach this rationally-- He couldn't do that when Blaine was standing there holding something he couldn't understand, something so simple and evil, something he'd been lying about for God knows how long.

"No, no. Kurt, stop," Blaine continues desperately. He didn't want to keep pushing Kurt away but all he could think was that he needed to keep them and Kurt was trying to get them away. He shoved Kurt away, grabbing at Kurt's arm with his free hand. He shoved away those hand and pushed again, breaking things in the living room as he shoved Kurt away again. "Stop, stop, stop."

He wanted Kurt away from him, to not be grabbing at him or trying to take away the pills. He needed space so that he could keep them, or for Kurt to be away from the door so that he could run away from facing the truth.

Shocked and disoriented, Kurt fell backward, slamming into the china cabinet. Several pieces had already crashed down onto the floor, and Kurt's hands fell on them as he threw them out to break his fall.

Too shocked to be aware of the pain in his hands, he just pushed himself up and looked wildly over at Blaine, both horrified and heartbroken.

Silence had fallen, horrible and earsplitting, and Kurt's voice wouldn't have been audible if it hadn't.

"Blaine...?"

Blaine stared for a moment. There was blood, bright and shiny and red. He did that. He made that. He can't.

He dropped the pills, letting them fall onto the carpet, and then runs. He can't even bring himself to check on Kurt, too ashamed to face any of this.

The Darkness is bound to be better than this.

"Blaine--wait!" Kurt cried, but the door slammed shut and Blaine was gone. Kurt knew he should go after him, stop him, protect him from the Darkness, but--

He stared down at his hands, cut up and red with blood, and realized he was shaking violently. Vaguely it occurred to him that he ought to wash out the wounds and bind them, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to even get off the floor.

It was so, so easy for him to fall in love. It had often gotten him into trouble in the past, and Blaine was no exception--but Blaine had ended up being different. Blaine had loved him back. At first Kurt had walked on eggshells, inherently frightened of losing what he was half-convinced was another one of his daydreams, ready to end at any second. A day became a month, though, and then another, and--and Kurt had started to believe that maybe his heart wouldn't break this time.

Tears beaded in his eyes and spilled over his cheeks, and he let out a tiny, miserable sob. He curled up right there on the kitchen floor and broke down, surrounded by broken glass inside and out.

Edited 2012-02-11 09:23 (UTC)

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I don't know where you're goin', or when you're comin' home

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