Chapter Text
“Blaine? Blaine can you hear me? Oh, my god—SOMEBODY HELP!”
Loud voices are echoing all around him. He can’t move. Lungs strain for air; everything hurts. What was going on? Everything was chaos. Shouting. Jerked movements. Agony. Then, nothing.
Silence.
Floating in darkness; alone. A burst of light. He touches solid ground. Kurt’s there, hands outstretched towards him. No longer alone. Relief. He reaches for the hand, fingers brushing. Touching Kurt; at last. Grasping their hands together. Never letting go.
“Kurt? Kurt, what’s going on? I’m scared.” Blaine’s own voice shakes, uncertain. This was the first time they got to touch.
Kurt smiles at him but says nothing. Only holding his hands.
An electric shock courses through his body. Burning him from the inside out. Blaine shouts. It hurts. Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt?
“Kurt! Make it stop. It hurts.” He cries out, grasping at his friend's hand tighter. The light is fading. No, no, no.
Another shock courses through him.
Kurt’s hands slip from his as he’s pulled back into the dark abyss. The light goes out. An empty yell.
“KURT!”
All is still.
Blaine opens his eyes. Disoriented vision of white walls, fluorescent lights, and his mother sitting in a stiff chair watching him comes into focus. A strong smell of lemon cleaner hits his senses as he takes a conscious inhale, burning his insides. He can’t help a groan of discomfort.
“Oh thank god, you’re awake.” His mother’s breathy voice is moving closer, taking his hand in hers. Her face tear streaked, eyes red, and puffy.
Of course he was awake. Why wouldn’t he be? Did something happen?
“Mom?” He can’t hear his own voice. His throat felt scratched apart. His mother shushes him, gently placing her fingers over his lips. He flinched away, wondering why his mouth hurt. They felt chapped. Split. Bruised and puffy.
“It’s okay, Blaine. You’re going to be okay now.” His mother wipes at her face, sniffing. “Do you remember anything that happened, sweetie?”
Confused, Blaine thinks over what could have happened. His memory fuzzy on every little detail.
It was the night of the Sadie Hawkins Dance at school. He had asked his friend, Milo. They were both gay and out, it seemed like a reasonable idea. No need to be shy. Going as friends, of course, but it was a night to remember; missing it wasn’t an option.
It had been fun. There had been food and punch, they danced with each other and friends. Laughs and joking with one another. Nothing but good things. A good night.
Then it had been time to go home. That’s when everything went to shit. His blood ran cold.
They had been waiting outside for their ride, Milo’s dad, taking in the fresh night air. It was refreshing, washing away the crowded evenings events of the school away.
“If it isn’t the two fairies.” A voice had said. A face blurred in his memory. He could not place it. “Come to ruin the night with your fairy dust?”
Blaine’s date had said something back. He couldn’t remember in detail. Milo had always been the brave one.
Cruel laughter.
“Come on, guys. Just go back inside and enjoy the dance.” Blaine reasoned. Fear pricked at his skin. But he had to be stronger than that.
Someone shoved him. He couldn’t make out who. Muffled words. His chest tight, head pounding making him ache.
“Blaine?” His mother’s voice brings him back. He’s clutching the sheets without meaning to, a wave of nausea hitting him.
“I can’t remember what happened.” Half a lie. Forcing some kind of smile at his mother hoping to dampen her concerns.
She sighs, resigned, patting at his hand. “That’s okay. You should rest.” Standing from her seat, she kisses his temple. He flinches from it. “I’m going to call your father, see where he is. I’ll be right back.”
He watches her go, the door clicking behind her. He’s alone. Slouching in bed, brows furrowing until he has a pinch in his head, trying to recount the night's events again.
“Come on, guys. Just go back inside and enjoy the dance.” Blaine had said, attempting to defuse the situation.
Someone was closing in. Jason? He could vaguely make out his face now. The basketball jock had always made snide remarks and found ways to blow spitballs at the back of Blaine’s head during class. A total jerk.
“Now that you’ve sprinkled your faggy dust all over that gymnasium? No way in hell. That shit is probably contagious.” Jason scoffed, giving Blaine a shove. Blaine stumbles. “You think we didn’t see the display of unholy affection?”
“It’s a dance man.” Blaine’s date argued, but he too was shoved. By someone else. Blaine can’t make out who, too concerned by Jason advancing.
“Shut it, Twinkerbell!”
That was Ben. Big guy. Football quarterback. The school pervert, who went around touching girls without their permission.
“Just leave us alone.” Blaine tried again.
Hands were in the front of his tuxedo jacket, yanking him violently against the nearest stone wall. His head hit it. Pain spreading from his crown and down his neck, leaving him dazed.
“We tried to warn you freaks to stay away. But you never listen.” Jason again. Jason was the one holding his jacket. Blaine tried to kick him away, push him off, anything; to no avail.
He’s punched in the gut, winding him. He can’t see what is going on with his date, but can hear scuffling. Maybe his date is doing better at fighting them off. Air isn’t coming easy as he’s gasping for it. Needing it. It doesn’t come. Knuckles meet his face next. Over, and over, and over again. His jaw hurts. Something cracks, Blaine can’t be sure what. Was it him? Was it his attackers? He’s on the ground.
“Kick him harder, dude!” Cody. The Pastor’s son. Blaine knew that voice plain as day.
Toes of dress shoes are kicking him in the ribs. He’s trying to curl into a ball, roll away, just needing to get it to stop. It doesn’t. Someone is on top of him, smashing his head against the ground. Hard. His ears ring loudly. He can’t make out voices anymore.
Just pain.
“Blaine.”
He comes back out. Current surroundings fading back into view. He’s in the hospital room. A figure standing at the foot of his bed. It hurts to smile.
“Hi, Kurt.”
Kurt returns the smile, and Blaine can attest it looks better than anything he may be trying right now. How he missed him. And those eyes.
“You look awful, Sweetheart. What happened to you?”
Blaine’s smile fades, trying to sit up straighter, squirming in discomfort. A twinge of pain in his back that travels up to his head warns him not to do that. Kurt, seemingly noticing, moves closer. A hand placing against his shoulder, stilling him. It’s still cold.
“Please, don’t move. You could make it worse.” Kurt says gently, and Blaine lets himself sink back down against the pillow. No point in arguing with a ghost.
“Some guys jumped me after prom.” He can hear their yelling again, ringing in his ears, and he hates how he cringes from admitting it aloud. It made him sound weak. Would Kurt think him pathetic for not being able to defend himself? His eyes burn in humiliation. He should’ve fought back.
“That’s awful.” Kurt removes his hand, hugging himself. “Did you report them yet?”
Blaine shakes his head. That was a bad idea. A throbbing headache hits. He closes his eyes, hoping it’ll stop. It doesn’t. Only dims.
“No.”
There’s silence for a moment. Blaine doesn’t want to open his eyes, unsure if Kurt left. He’s scared to think the ghost would have abandoned him out of disgust. Or perhaps disappointment? Only the sound of the heart monitor beeping keeping him company. Of course Kurt thought badly of him. He should have done something. Why hang around a pathetic excuse like him who couldn’t defend himself against a couple of jerks?
“Should I go?” Kurt’s voice snaps him out of it. He hadn’t left.
Opening his eyes, Blaine stares at the man long and hard. Those eyes still sucking him in. Getting him lost. He can’t help but to stare. After a moment, he shakes his head; slower and more calculated to keep the headache from getting worse.
“Please don’t leave me.”
Kurt smiles at him. Any concern about him thinking poorly of Blaine is whisked away for the time being. Of course Kurt wouldn’t leave him. Kurt was his friend.
“You father is thirty minutes away!” Blaine’s mother interrupts their moment, bringing Blaine’s focus back. “He’s setting you up with an attorney. We’re going to take those boys who did this to you and Milo see consequences for their actions.”
“Mom...” Blaine tried, watching her move closer. As a result she walks through Kurt, as Kurt has yet to float to another spot in the room. That wasn’t something you see everyday. She shivers.
“Blaine. Please, rest. Your father and I will handle everything, okay?” She kisses his forehead. “And I’ll be sure they turn the heat up in here, it’s freezing.”
He and Kurt share a look. He could swear Kurt’s face flushed with color, embarrassed.
The pain meds knock him back out not long after, all while Kurt keeps a watchful eye close by.
There’s that warm light again, invading his dreams. Yelling sounds all around him as he approaches it.
“Die queer!”
“You and your faggot friend aren’t welcomed here!”
“This’ll show you!”
“We’ll teach you to sprinkle your fairy dust around here!”
At the end of the hall, Kurt is there, waiting and smiling.
“Your kind isn’t welcome here!”
“Kick him harder!”
“Unholy displays of affection!”
Blaine covers his ears, running towards Kurt. Picking up speed as he goes. Needing to get closer. To get away from the voices.
Kurt extends his hands out. He’s almost there.
“Someone help!”
“Clear!”
“Time of death...”
Blaine collapses in Kurt’s arms, waking up.
The room is full of light. It’s day, he determines, and his parents are both there; talking quietly to themselves in the corner, not wanting to wake him.
Kurt’s there too, his eyes focused on Blaine from the foot of the bed. He smiles brightly when they make eye contact, then presses a finger to his lips to instruct the teen to remain quiet and not say anything.
“They caught the guys who did this to you. You’re going to get justice.” He motions towards Blaine’s parents, still quietly talking in hushed tones.
Blaine doesn’t feel better about that information. He feels himself frown because it makes his face hurt again.
Kurt moves away from the foot of the bed and closer to Blaine’s side. Blaine wishes he wouldn’t.
“They won’t get away with this.”
Blaine doubts that’s true. No one gave a fuck about the bullying at school before, even with his dad coming in with complaints. Why would they care now? Couldn’t this get more ugly? What if they came after him for revenge? Fear spikes, tears brimming in his eyes as he shakes his head. Not caring about the headache it brings.
“They’re going to come after me.” He says aloud, shaking his head faster. His chest is tight. He can’t breathe. It’s like he’s back on the ground, being kicked. He’s starting to hyperventilate.
He reaches for Kurt.
“Blaine...” Kurt tries, but Blaine’s parents are moving through him to get to their panicked son. Blaine sees Kurt float back to a corner before the tears blur his eyesight entirely.
This wasn’t happening.
“Kick him harder!” The voice rang in his ears, muffled despite shouting encouragement for the violence.
“This’ll show you!” Another voice. Ben? Cody? It was distant. He could hear someone else getting hit.
His date, Milo. They were attacking him too.
Stop it. Make it stop.
“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice comes through. Where was he? He can’t see him.
“Kurt?” Blaine calls over the shouting. “Kurt, I’m scared!”
“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice echoes in again. “Come towards my voice, Blaine.”
“I can’t see you!”
Muffled shouts get louder. Just closing in on him. He is trying to escape it.
“Listen to my voice, Blaine. Come towards it.”
Tears threaten. He’s panicking. He needs to get to Kurt. Kurt meant safety. But he can’t move.
“Kurt! Don’t leave me!”
Kurt doesn’t reply.
“Kurt?”
Blaine wakes with a sharp intake of breath, sitting up in bed. He’s still in the hospital room. It’s night now. Kurt is the only other figure in the room, floating in the corner but still watching him. He breathes out, relaxing his grip on the blankets.
“Hi.” The ghost smiles at him.
“Hi.” Blaine thinks he sounds horrible and grimaces.
“How are you feeling?”
“Thirsty?” He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.
Kurt points towards the moveable table that had a water bottle on it. Blaine winces when he reaches for it. It’s only then does he take notice of how bruised his arms appear, and he is quick to hide them under the blankets, ignoring his thirst.
“Blaine, you need to drink.” Kurt says with a sigh, floating closer again. Blaine feels himself shrink back, shame overtaking him. Kurt stops.
“I feel pathetic.” He voices honestly. Not knowing if he would be able to be this open with anyone else. Kurt was a ghost. There was no one he could gossip to. He had come out to Kurt first for a reason. He could find it in himself to talk about his own truth on this situation. “I should’ve fought back.”
“What good would that have done?” Kurt gently prods. Blaine sucks in a breath, staring hard at the blanket, giving a half-hearted shrug.
“I could’ve stopped them.”
Kurt doesn’t press, floating closer. Blaine doesn’t shy away this time, pushing himself on.
“I could’ve stopped them from hurting Milo. I could’ve stopped them from hurting me. If I wasn’t such a wimp. Maybe if I was bigger, or stronger; none of this would’ve happened.”
“Blaine...” Kurt’s voice is right next to him again, and it draws Blaine’s gaze from the blankets. “I promise you, Sweetheart. No matter how big a person is, bullies will always bully someone they’re ignorant of. This isn’t your fault.”
Blaine feels his hands tremble. “But still, I could’ve done something more. Something that wouldn’t have made me so weak! I’m not weak, Kurt!”
“I know you aren’t, Blaine. I would never think that of you.” Kurt’s voice is so soothing, easing Blaine down from having another attack. He’s able to take a breath. “You’re still here. You’re a lot stronger than you think you are.”
Blaine meets Kurt understanding stare. Those gorgeous blue eyes, always staring into his soul. Still having so much life, that really made Blaine yearn to get to know him.
“Kurt?”
“Blaine?”
“How did you die?”
Kurt hums, averting his gaze to look out the window. Blaine isn’t sure if he crossed a line in asking. He also isn’t sure if knowing will help anything.
“There was this Neanderthal,” Kurt begins, never taking his gaze away from the window, “who made it his mission to make my life a living hell. He did some unspeakable and cruel things all throughout high school, and I even considered taking my own life just to escape him.”
Blaine holds his breath.
“But he beat me to it.” Kurt laughs, it’s humorless and dry; hollow, and daunting. Blaine’s arm hair stands on end. “I had finally confronted him about his torment. He didn’t like that, and he assaulted me. He told me if I told anyone, he’d kill me. I got him suspended for the threat, but it wasn’t enough. He came back. It got worse. My senior year, he made good on his threat.”
Kurt finally looks back at Blaine, expressionless. “I was in the locker room alone. He came in, claimed I was spying on him changing, and beat me in the showers. I remember seeing my own blood running down the shower drain. I remember the sirens of the ambulance approaching. There was so much commotion, it was all I could focus on to distract from how it hurt to move.”
Blaine feels his heart ache. He can see the image so clear in his mind.
This beautiful man, dying on a cold floor. Beaten and broken. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Kurt didn’t survive, but he did.
The lights flicker.
“He had caused some major internal bleeding. I died five minutes after my arrival here.” There’s a pause. Lights flickering again. “I died alone. I was only eighteen.” Kurt takes a breath. “I’ve been here ever since. I’ve made it my job to make sure no one feels alone here. That’s why I’m still around.”
Blaine thought back to when he and Kurt met. Being seven and left alone in the big, scary hospital room. Kurt had been his savior. A perfect distraction. Keeping him company so he was never by himself.
“I’m so glad that you’ve decided to stay, Kurt. You’ve become a great friend to me, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Kurt smiles at him.
“I’m glad to have met you as well, Blaine. You’re definitely my favorite person to visit.”
Despite the ghostly distance between them, Blaine reaches for the other. Kurt allows it, extending a hand. As he was expecting, their hands mesh and there is nothing but freezing cold air. But Blaine doesn’t matter.
“Will you do something for me?” Blaine asks, sniffling. Unaware of how emotional Kurt’s story had made him until this moment. “Will you see if Milo is here too? I want to know how he’s doing.”
“Of course.”
“Milo Escola is his name.” Blaine supplies, retracting his hand again. The pain meds must be kicking in once again, he’s fatigued and ready for more sleep.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kurt’s smiling at him, and Blaine wishes he could just stare at that sight forever.
“And Kurt?”
“Yes, Blaine?”
“Stay with me until I fall asleep?”
Kurt shifts, seemingly sitting on the side of Blaine’s bed, though the blankets don’t dip under any possible weight. “I promise, I won’t leave you.”
Blaine feels at ease, heavy eyelids closing.
“All queers deserve to burn in hell!”
“Kick him harder!”
“Somebody help!”
Blaine covers his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. No, this had to stop. He didn’t want this anymore.
A hand touches him. It’s gentle, not rough. Bringing Blaine’s attention out of his petrified stupor, blanketing him in warmth. It’s Kurt.
“It’s not your time, Blaine.” Kurt is smiling at him. A sight that never grows tiresome. Encouraging Blaine to stand, and walking with him away from the shouting until it’s barely a harsh whisper in the back of his mind.
“You didn’t leave me.” Blaine says, clutching at Kurt’s hand in his. It’s solid. He’s actually touching the other.
“Of course not, silly.” Kurt nudges at Blaine’s shoulder with his own. Blaine can’t help but to lean into it, grasping at the cold hand with both of his.
“Where are we going?”
“No where in particular. Just need you to get some restful sleep without giving yourself frown lines. It isn’t very refined.”
Blaine laughs, glancing back to where they had just come from. He can’t see anything, but the further they walk the less loud the memory is heard ringing in his ears. For the moment, he feels safe.