The Guilty Ones 》Glee/Klaine ✓

17. Bitter Blood

Blaine hadn't woken up yet. Kurt was perfectly okay with that.

His eyes cracked opened much earlier than he had planned. The glowing digital clock appeared brighter than the soft glow from outside. Kurt squirmed and stretched, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy beside him. He lay there for a moment, observing the dips and curves of Blaine's profile outline, and how the prominence of his dark lashes notified Kurt that he was still well asleep.

A train had woken Kurt up. A train, rattling on its rusty rails and wailing its whistle from a mile away. The same kind of train that would lull a young Kurt to sleep at night, where he'd lie in bed and stare up at the same blank ceiling.

But he was not a young Kurt anymore. And this morning was the first in a long time that he had woken up in his own bed.

Well, technically he had spent the night on the extra mattress with Blaine. And it was Blaine who had slept soundly through the echoing horns of the freight cars a mere street away. Kurt was the one lying awake from something that suddenly seemed so foreign to him.

Today was Saturday. Kurt only remembered because he couldn't smell the strong black coffee and hear the sound of his father starting up the truck engine on his way to the repair shop.

Today was Saturday, and the boys were about to face their next big competition.

Kurt pushed that all aside. He didn't bother cluttering his mind of what was to come. Normally he didn't stuff his brain with anything that didn't really matter. But on this early Saturday morning, all Kurt could think about was Friday night.

It wasn't the evening that anyone had expected. He didn't want Blaine to feel any more embarrassed about it than he already did, so Kurt kept his mouth shut. But on the inside, Kurt was feeling the power that he so desperately wished had faded away: rage.

It was true that he was furious about last night. Kurt was so angry, he was surprised he didn't have dreams in his sleep about what went down. Not even his recurring nightmares disrupted him in the night. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box, where he could see everything happen but could do nothing about it.

He wouldn't let Blaine see his anger. He had tried so hard to show him that he wasn't the same kid he was a few months ago.

Being back home did nothing to help that. All Kurt ever was in this neighborhood was trouble. To all the neighborhood kids, who –like him– had grown up into young adulthood, Kurt was still the rotten thief. But those kids were always going to be cheaters and liars. They were bums. None of them had gotten out of the neighborhood and learned what it was like to be dependable.

Dependable. Kurt took a moment to try and wrap his head around the word. All he wanted was to be someone that Blaine could count on. Meeting Blaine at Dalton had given him the opportunity to mean something to someone else.

And he cared about Blaine, so freaking much, that he nearly beat himself up for sitting and watching like an idiot. Blaine counted on him, and Kurt couldn't even protect him from his biggest bully.

He glanced over at the boy again. The swelling had gone down, and just a bit of pink skin remained. Nothing a bit of show makeup can't fix, Kurt thought. I'm sure those singing pretty boys keep a surplus.

Blaine had hidden from his father. Through every holiday and weekend that they had spent together on campus, Blaine was hiding from the truth at home and Kurt had no idea.

As much as Kurt wanted to go up to Mr. Anderson and sock him in the face, he needed Blaine to stand up to him (maybe not quite the same approach).