Our Love Song (Klaine)

Chapter Eight: Blaine

Chapter 8: Blaine

There was a knock at my door.

"Come in," I called. The hospital door creaked open. I was expecting another doctor. There had been a lot of them in and out today. That's why I was really surprised to see Kurt peek through the door. I smiled at him. "Kurt."

"Hi, Blaine," he said, in a voice not that much louder than a whisper. "I'm allowed to get up and walk now, so I came to visit. How are you feeling?"

"Alright. I missed you."

"I missed you, too. But I think we need to talk," Kurt's face was serious. I was immediately worried, but I didn't want Kurt to notice.

"Sure. Sit down," I motioned to the end of my bed. He bit his lip and obeyed. I took a close look at his face. It was pretty bad. Splotches of purple and brown covered his cheek, and there was a pretty big bandage on his forehead. I felt awful, because I knew it was my fault. If I hadn't punched Luke, we could have gotten out of there untouched. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I think you know, Blaine," I gave him a quizzical look. "Blaine, you have two week old fractures in your ribs."

"Oh, yeah. The doctors told me about that. I don't know what they're from," I lied. "But they're pretty much fixed now. So I should be okay."

"Blaine, you can't just break your ribs and not know how you did it."

"Well, I fell down the stairs at Dalton last week..."

"You're lying, Blaine," he looked at me with his famous glare. I felt like he was opening up my mind and digging through all of my thoughts with his gaze, and my body tensed.

"I'm not lying. It's nothing, Kurt."

"Stop that right now. You're not telling me something. I just want to help you, Bla-"

"I don't need any help!" I interrupted him, harshly. My voice was just a little bit too harsh, and Kurt winced.

"Yes, you do, Blaine. You can't go at everything alone. I learned that lesson this year. From you. You should know better."

"Yeah, well maybe I should!" I snapped. Kurt was getting on my nerves. Which was odd, I must admit. Maybe it was because of all of the medication I was on. "But... but I really just want to be alone right now."

"We don't have to talk about what happened, then, if you don't want to. I'll turn on the TV. I think What Not to Wear is on..." Kurt stood up and walked over to the remote, but my head was throbbing and I really didn't want Kurt here.

"No, I want to be alone. You can watch your show in your room or something. Just leave me alone," I noticed the hurt expression on Kurt's face, I did. But I didn't feel bad or anything. I just wanted to be alone so I could sort my thoughts out. He stood up and walked towards me and pressed his dry lips up against mine, but he stopped suddenly when he saw that I wasn't returning the kiss. After a confused glance at my face, Kurt left my room, without a word.

I tried to sleep after this little talk with Kurt, but I just couldn't. My mind was pounding with thoughts and worries and questions. So badly that just closing my eyes brought back those unpleasant flashbacks and nightmares...

Three years earlier...

"That wasn't too bad. Nobody teased us!"

"To our faces, Jack. Just because we didn't get called nasty names or pushed around doesn't mean they all like us all of a sudden," Blaine sighed, gathering his jacket and cell phone from his locker.

"Come on, Blaine. Forget about it. Dances are supposed to be fun," Jack nudged Blaine with his shoulder. "Don't tell me you didn't have fun."

"I did... It's just... I wish we didn't have to worry about getting ridiculed everywhere we go."

"I hear ya. But don't worry about it tonight. You can go home and just get a good night's sleep. You'll feel so much better in the morning, I promise," Jack smiled lightly at Blaine, who returned the smile sadly.

"Alright, let's go," the two dapper-looking boys exited the almost empty middle school together, shoulder to shoulder. For those few minutes, Blaine felt that he was safe. With Jack right next to him, there was no way anybody could hurt him. He was wrong.

"Hey, fags."

It was Luke Mills. The one person who has tormented Blaine more than anyone about him being gay ever since he had come out just recently. He was with a group of his friends. No, more like followers. Blaine was immediately filled with terror.

Before he knew what was going on, there were punches being thrown on both sides of the fight. Blood was being shed and there was no logical thinking going on anywhere. It was just violence and terror.

I thought we were safe.

A few months earlier...

"Dad, I have a boyfriend."

"What?"

"You heard me. I have a boyfriend," Mr. Anderson slammed his clenched his fist angrily on the kitchen counter.

"God damn it, Blaine! You're not even gay!"

"Of course I am, Dad! I told you that years ago!" Blaine yelled back with equal anger.

"No, you're not! It's just a phase! You're straight, Blaine! Completely straight!"

"You don't know me, Dad! I know who I am, and I know that I am gay! There's no doubt in there, none!"

"How would you know? You've never even been with a girl!"

"Yes I have! That shows how much you know! I have, this year, and it wasn't right! But I have a boyfriend now and I love him and there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

"Yes there is, Blaine! I'm your father, and if I don't want you to have a boyfriend, then you won't!"

"I can do what I want. I'm not a kid anymore, Dad! I love Kurt and I want to be with him! You can't take him away from me!"

The father hit his son with incredible force, knocking him backwards helplessly.

"You can hit me all you want, but that's not going to change who I am!" the cries were almost useless.

Blaine didn't go to school the next day.

One week earlier...

The tears streamed from his eyes like a waterfall in the spring. He couldn't do anything to stop them from flowing; they just did. It was impossible to pinpoint the tears to a particular reason. Part of it might have been the emotion. Maybe it was the pain. Whatever the reason, Blaine was crying.

Blaine never cried. Even when he was younger, tears were so uncommon that if he was crying, it usually meant something bad had happened with him. Not just bad, really, extremely bad.

Blaine was crouched up in a fetal position beside his bed, clinging to his legs tightly. He was shaking, partly due to the tears, the pain, and also because of the freezing temperature of his bedroom. It was almost summer though, so Blaine was pretty sure it was just him imagining the cold.

The pain was almost unbearable. He could barely move.

I can't tell anybody, he thought, terrified. I can't tell anybody. Not the doctors, or even... or even Kurt...

The tears didn't stop.

Present Time

Kurt's going to kill me. He knows I'm hiding something. He's upset. He's jumping to conclusions. He's freaking out about it. No matter what I say, he won't believe me unless I tell him the truth.

I should tell him the truth.

I can't tell him the truth.

I won't tell him the truth.