sirenspull_logs | On the first page of our story, the future seemed so bright.

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On the first page of our story, the future seemed so bright.

Who: Kurt and Blaine...no longer Klaine...sob
When: February 23
Where: Chuck's spare room at the HoA.
Summary: Kurt and Blaine finally reunite after shit went down.
Warnings: Talkin' about drugs and violence and stuff. Angst with a bit of hopefulness.

Honestly, Kurt was terrified.

The last time he'd seen Blaine was when he'd been crumpled on the floor, his face wet with tears and his hands sticky with blood. Numb with shock, he'd only been able to stare in disbelief at Blaine's retreating back, the denial sinking in before the anger had a chance to arrive.

And then the anger had been unleashed.

Though he felt truly guilty for what he'd said, his heart was dangling by a thread somewhere hollow, batted between genuine apology and sick resentment. He knew there was a part of him that could never really heal from the wounds that Blaine had inflicted so deeply on him--but after many years of righting wrongs and confronting the demons of the past, he'd discovered that forgiveness and compassion came far too easily to him. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a crippling flaw in character, either.

Despite the jarringly contradicting emotions raging in his heart, Kurt packed up another care package for Blaine nonetheless. He wasn't really making them as an apology, or as a way to convince Blaine that they should be together. At its core, it was a gesture of one human reaching out to help another, and that was all it really needed to be.

I'd do it for anyone, Kurt convinced himself as he carefully packed in a few of Blaine's favorite snacks along with the blanket he'd made and the books he'd bought--fantasy and romance, light and simple, a getaway--carefully boxing them up before heading to where he knew Blaine was staying.

It felt so strange, like he were visiting a stranger. It seemed impossible that he'd once been able to simply roll over in bed and see Blaine lying beside him, to approach him so easily.

It hurt. So much.

Standing at the door, he knocked several times, his heart drumming along his rib cage--still swinging between anger and forgiveness, regret and sympathy, bitterness and love.

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"Of course," Kurt replied, shifting around awkwardly. He moved to set the box down, and in doing so gave himself a brief pep talk.

'God he looks like hell--'
'Well he deserves it!'
'No, no he doesn't. No one does.'
'Yes, he does, he lied and then shoved you three times--there's a word for that, you know--not to mention poisoning himself with God knows what...'
'That doesn't matter anymore, I'm past that. And he's just so lost...'
'He doesn't need you anymore. He has his friends and he has his pills.'
'What do you know? You're just a stupid voice in my head, you weird disembodied ignoramus--'

It wasn't so much a pep talk as a suspiciously schizophrenic clash of voices in his head, and he decided to be alarmed about that later. For now, he put on his best smile as he took out the items he'd brought for Blaine one by one.

"Here's a blanket I made from fleece... It'll keep you nice and warm. Some books to keep you entertained... Oh, and here are some of your favorite snacks. All high-protein and healthy, I made sure."

Blaine focused on finishing the tea and pouring it out into two cups. As Kurt poured over the contents of the box he brought one of them over to the other boy and looked curiously at what he was pointing out.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked after a moment. He was careful that when he handed over the tea he didn't touch Kurt's hand, though he couldn't help but look, trying to catch any sight of the wounds.

His voice wasn't accusatory. He was more curious than anything and he sounded a little exhausted.

"Doing what?" he asked immediately, spinning around. He was relatively sure he knew what Blaine meant, but some weird part of him somehow thought Blaine could hear the strange bodiless conversation in his head.

"Making care packages for me," Blaine clarified. "After... After what I did." Blaine stopped himself and swallowed. It wasn't doing either of them good to dance around the subject.

"I hurt you, Kurt. I left you on the ground when you were bleeding. How could you forgive me for that?"

"I haven't," said Kurt softly, turning back toward the table. Idly he unfolded and re-folded the blanket, tucking the corners in neatly, needing something to do with his hands. "Not completely. Every day I get a little closer, though. To healing, and to moving on."

He looked up at Blaine, his heart hurting again when he expected to see the boy he loved and saw someone completely different. "I want you to heal too. That's why I'm making you these. To help you get better."

"Helping me can't be good for you," Blaine said after a moment. He looked down at the blanket and frowned a bit. "This can't be healthy for you. I'm not healthy for you."

After a moment he pulled his eyes up to look at Kurt. "That's why I'm trying to stay away from you and give you distance. You do need to heal, and that will probably be easier if you aren't near me."

Kurt sighed, the sound weary and long-suffering--but then he smiled. It was just a small quirk of the lips, really, but it was enough.

"I thought I told you to stop treating me like I'm made of glass," he reminded Blaine gently, leaning against the table. "I know what I can handle. And besides..."

Neglecting his tea entirely, he began straightening up the area, his actions almost compulsive. "Franz told me not to baby you, but he doesn't know you as well as I do. I'm the only one who knows how to properly take care of you, so..." He trailed off, cleaning, trying to thwart the need to throw himself into Blaine's arms and never let go.

Blaine was silent, stunned by the truth of those words. His own tea was forgotten as well. Instead his hands moved up to touch his scarf and after a moment he moved closer to Kurt. He still didn't trust himself to touch Kurt, but the urge to get down on his knees and beg forgiveness was too strong.

Instead of actually bending his legs though, he just whispered with a large amount of disbelief. "How is it that you keep saving me?"

Somewhat stunned by this reply, Kurt turned on his feet, looking Blaine in the eye again. Sure, the other boy looked dead on his feet--scruffy and unkempt, pale and puffy, disheveled--but those eyes were the same. They were the same eyes that had looked at Kurt with such sincerity while he was told 'Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt', the same ones that he'd look at before he went to sleep at night, the first thing he'd seen when he'd woken up in the baseball field after being killed.

"I think we're supposed to save each other," he said softly. "Courage, remember?"

"I've only been able to hurt you since we got here," Blaine said, shaking his head. "I don't think I can save anyone any more. At least not while I'm here."

He sighed and shook his head. "No, look, Kurt. You don't have to listen to me when I'm like this. You were the one who was hurt, okay? You haven't done anything wrong and it's not your responsibility to save me."

"Blah, blah, blah, you're a horrible person, I should hate you, et cetera," Kurt sighed, going back to cleaning. "Where have I heard that before? Oh, right. All the time. I'm still not leaving."

He stopped when he saw a pair of scissors on the counter top. Honestly, they scared him. Why were they there? His head began to swim with horrible possibilities, and he seized them before he could think better of it, casting about for a place to hide them.

Then again... He looked at the scissors and back up at Blaine.

"How about a haircut?"

Blaine had been thinking about attacking the mess that had become his hair on his own. He had gotten as far as getting the scissors out, and that was about it. They had never been placed there with any other intention.

As he said on the network, the thoughts he had had never had evolved into plans.

Kurt asking about it threw him off though because it seemed so off topic. He nodded dumbly for a moment before realizing that he should speak. "I was going to on my own, but it would probably look better if you did it..."

He had let his hair grow over the last month and now he had no money to pay for a real cut. At least Kurt would know what he was doing.

"Okay...let's see..." Kurt seized a chair and dragged it over to the kitchen area, positioning it just so. "Get your hair wet, then sit. I'm going to run to the bathroom, all right?"

Just as a precaution he took the scissors with him, and lingered in the bathroom for a few moments to search for something. It had to have been around there somewhere, he'd packed it-- Ah, yes.

He slipped the object he'd found into his pocket and took a towel and hand-held mirror back out to the kitchen. He threw the towel around Blaine's shoulders, tucking it around him carefully.

"I'm just going to give you a trim," he announced, and reached out. He hesitated for just a moment before touching Blaine's hair, his stomach dropping slightly when he did.

Blaine took off his scarf and jacket and set the stuffed animal aside gently. When he wet his hair carefully he ran his fingers through it over the sink in an attempt to work out some of the knots. As he waited for Kurt to return from the bathroom he wondered for a moment if this was some kind of dream, if his mind was playing tricks on him.

It was almost surreal to be waiting for a something as simple as a hair cut from Kurt.

Kurt returned and wrapped him in a towel. At first Kurt's hands on him made him tense up. He didn't mean to, because he remembered after the cherry trees what had upset Kurt was the hesitation before contact, but he was so tense and trying so hard to be uncomfortable. He didn't want to relax back into old habits or to follow the pattern that had gotten them back together after that first horrible mistake.

It was impossible to deny the comfort in Kurt's fingers, though, or the skillful way in which he handled the mess that had been slowing growing on the top of Blaine's head. Before he knew it his eyes were closed and he let himself release a bit of the tension that had build up in his shoulders and back.

A silence fell over them while Kurt worked, but it was oddly comfortable despite the tension between them. As he did with any project, Kurt poured himself into it, certain to trim every strand just so, without mistake.

He didn't announce when he was finished. Instead, he took the small object he'd hidden in his pocket--a container of hair gel. Carefully he took out his comb and began styling, careful to mimic the exact way Blaine usually sculpted his hairdo.

When he was finished he smiled at the results. Seizing the hand-held mirror, he held it up in front of Blaine.

"Take a look," he said enthusiastically, encouragingly.

Blaine raised his brow a bit at Kurt. It was just a hair cut, nothing to be so excited about. However looking at the mirror and seeing the way that Kurt had carefully styled his hair made him pause.

He looked more like himself than he had in days. He stared for a moment, unable to express the gratitude that overtook him.

"I should probably shave," he managed to say, voice choked slightly. He rubbed the stubble on his chin, examining it in the mirror.

"Probably," Kurt agreed, feeling just as emotional. "But you so look sort of ruggedly handsome like this."

He let himself laugh for a moment before falling quiet again, his heart swinging back forward. Reaching over, he gently took the penguin plush in hand, looping his arms around it.

"I...can go now, if you want," he said softly.

Blaine watched him for a moment. Despite himself, he enjoyed the fact that he could look at Kurt again. He looked sad, and tense, but still so beautiful.

"Do you want to go?"

"No," he said quickly, then turned a bright shade of pink. Bouncing on his feet, he wrung his hands, feeling twitchy.

"I mean...you said it would be better for the post of us, and lingering here would be terribly rude and inconsiderate, and not conducive at all to your recovery--"

Before he knew it, he was rambling. "And I know it's important for you to get your rest and to have as few distractions as possible--not that I'm at all distracting to you, of course, that would mean I'm making assumptions, which I'm not, and--"

"Kurt, stop, just stop," Blaine said. He pulled his hand up a bit, just trying to get Kurt to calm down. "There's something bad going on out there. Have you seen the NV? I think it would be better for you to stay inside anyway, so you're welcome to stay. I don't think Chuck would object unless we were upsetting each other."

He paused a bit then, taking a moment to breathe. "Am I upsetting you?"

"No," Kurt repeated. Blaine himself wasn't upsetting him, at least. It was more like... "But I don't want to confuse you, and--"

He hesitated. Despite Kurt's attempts to be supportive, he hadn't confronted the issue of Blaine's drug use directly since he'd tipped the bottle of pills down the drain. "Are you...I mean...still?"

It wasn't his intention to trigger Blaine or rub salt in the wound, but he had to be honest with himself. If Blaine were using--if there were any drugs in the apartment at all, actually--he couldn't be there. He'd leave immediately.

Blaine sighed and shook his head. "No," he said after a moment. He was used to people not trusting him now, but it still made him feel so pathetic. "Of course I'm not. Not after everything that happened."

Kurt's shoulders fell as he relaxed, and a soft smile spread on his face. "I'm so happy," he said softly. "I'm so proud of you."

Edited 2012-02-25 04:23 (UTC)

Blaine didn't really feel like there was anything to be proud of. He was pathetic, weak and filthy.

"Hey," he said after a moment, rather than expressing any of those thoughts. "I'm going to go shave and get cleaned up. Will you hang around while I do that? I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure," said Kurt, his smile disappearing. He wondered if he said something wrong. Probably. I have no idea how to handle this, after all.

"Um, I'll just...clean a bit more, or something," he said awkwardly, flapping his arms a bit.

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