Posts tagged blangst
Prompt by Blangstpromptoftheday: #417 5 times Blaine wished he had a father to talk to about stuff and one time he did.
Warning: Angst, mentions of Abuse, self harm and just general Blangst.
Blaine sighed as his friend blathered on about some girl he was in love with. How someone could be in love at 9 years old was beyond him but his friend was adamant so he didn’t point out this fact.
This girl was apparently pretty, at least his friend kept repeating it enough for Blaine to at least get that impression. He could see what his friend was talking about, her small petite face and thin frame but to Blaine she was just a person. He didn’t want to date her, he wanted just to walk over and be her friend.
He was so confused. Why wasn’t he able to look at a girl and see how pretty they were? He could say features he liked but he would never get a faster drum beat in his chest or butterflies in his stomach. Girls simply existed and they had no impact on him.
He had heard a word his Father kept using a lot. Gay. He said it with the utmost contempt. The word would roll off his tongue with a sharp click after it, a noise resembling him spitting. Apparently people who were that word (Blaine didn’t like to think about it if it made his Father mad) liked boys and therefore were wrong.
But Blaine could tell that he was different but he didn’t want to ask encase he was that word and his Father would hate him. So he just nodded to what his friend said, though his eyes were drew to her brother. He quickly shook his head and forced his eyes on the girl again.
Why had that happened? His eyes went back to the brother and he saw similarities to the other sibling. He was drawn to the boys auburn hair and defined shoulders, they made him strong.
Blaine started to feel his heart beat faster and he wasn’t sure now if it was out of fear of what he could be or for how he felt about the boy.
All he knew was his Father couldn’t know.
***
Blaine couldn’t breathe, his chest was on fire. Not literally, it just felt like it. He had been too slow, way too slow. He shouldn’t have dawdled out of the classroom, they had been waiting for him.
He had thought coming out would be a good thing. 13 years old and at least he knows that he’s gay. Most people in his class don’t even know what their home phone number is but he knows he’s gay.
He however hadn’t anticipated the words. The punches. The laughter. The pain. He hadn’t forseen his Father’s eyes when the words had left his lips, the growl of anger and the raised fist.
He knew what was happening to him. He was being bullied and abused but he was sure he deserved it. No-one told him otherwise. He knew from TV that his Father should at least care, should talk to him and help him understand what was happening to him.
But he didn’t and Blaine knew he never would. The Anderson’s were supposed to show no cracks in their internal armor, take everything like a man. If Cooper could do it, Blaine should be able to too.
He was so confused, why did his parents care that he was gay? Why did his school care? The teachers didn’t act like they cared but the way they let the bullying slide and no-one commented on his black eyes or finger shaped bruises on his neck were a sign that they did care.
He had never felt more alone, curled against his door in his room. Broken. Bruised. Gay.
He hated himself for being it, it had torn his family apart and had destroyed his school life. The smooth popular guy was now the bullied gay guy.
But he couldn’t tell. He’d never tell.
***
The dance had seemed a good idea at the time. Blaine had finally found a friend, someone like him. Another gay. They both shared in each others feelings and fears and helped each other when possible.
That included Blaine staying at his house at least once a week if his Dad got really bad.
So he had thought that the boy would be a perfect companion to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Oh, how wrong he was.
The bullies had cornered them when they were waiting for their lift home, brandishing glass bottles and baseball bats.
Blaine didn’t know what happened to his friend but he remembered with perfect clarity what happened to him.
First came the punch to his gut, then the crash of metal bat against his back. The their came the kicks and spits, the laughs and taunts. The bottles were smashed on something, Blaine’s face was buried in the dirt so he couldn’t see what before being stabbed into his stomach.
He had never felt more pain than when the glass had pierced his skin. Not even his Father at his worst could have beaten their efforts. They had left quickly after Blaine had passed out and stopped moving, at least that was what he was told happened.
He woke up in the hospital bed alone. Not even Cooper had bothered to show up. He was completely isolated from everyone. The only thing that showed that his Father had been there, however briefly, was a pamphlet to Dalton Academy.
His father had been talking about it for weeks, ignoring every other avenue of conversation that could lead back to Blaine being gay and about how it could straighten him out, though he meant it in a literal way.
Blaine was willing to humor his Father, only to go for the zero tolerance harassment policy. He might actually be safe.
But he couldn’t tell his Father that.
***
Blaine hadn’t expected Kurt. The boy was a complete surprise to his life that he welcomed. He didn’t know about Blaine’s past, treated him almost like a god. Blaine wasn’t sure how he had convinced Kurt of this but he didn’t want it to stop.
The boy also loved him, that had been proven by their kiss. It was the best experience Blaine had ever had. But dating Kurt scared him.
He had never been in any relationship, so how on earth was this going to work? He had no-one he could talk to about this except Kurt but he didn’t want to break this confident facade he had managed to cast.
Kurt needed him to be strong like Blaine simply needed Kurt to be there. He wasn’t exactly lying but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. He was simply existing for Kurt’s sake.
Blaine had been blown away by Kurt’s Father when he had been dragged to meet him. To say Blaine was reticent was an understatement. He honestly thought that Kurt’s Dad would hit him, his own Father did.
So when he was hugged, smiled at and acknowledged it confused him to no end. The whole idea of the Hummel-Hudson family confused him and he had no-one to talk to.
He couldn’t exactly ask his Father about how other families with gay children worked, could he?
***
It was getting too much. Everything. Kurt was moving on and Blaine had no control over it.
Not moving on as in leaving him, moving on with life while Blaine was stuck. Paused. Stuck on repeat.
His day revolved around the same routine. Wake up, go to school, go home, get hit, hide his marks, Skype Kurt and go to bed.
How on earth he had kept this from Kurt was beyond him. The only scars he had to explain were the glass bottle scar on his stomach and a couple of self harm scars which he said were from the bullying. Half of them where, half were from his Father getting too much for Blaine to handle.
But he wanted to talk to someone about his relationship. It was fraying and Blaine didn’t want the end of string to leave him. Kurt was his anchor, his lifeline thought the horrors of his life. He was the person who stuck with Blaine, didn’t leave him, didn’t hurt him.
But he was leaving him, he was getting more into his work and less into their Skype chats. He would cancel more and more often and wouldn’t answer the phone when Blaine called.
He was leaving and Blaine didn’t know what to do. He needed someone to talk to, someone who would steer him.
He needed a Father but he didn’t have one of those.
***
Blaine curled in on himself, tears leaving trails down his cheeks as they came unhindered. He had finally left. Finally run away from all his problems and now he was truly alone.
His friends didn’t want him, Kurt hated him, his Father had kicked him out with hardly anything to live on. Blaine was alone and he wanted it to end.
So with that he ran, ran down random roads and through dark alleys. He was almost tempting the world to make his life worse, for an accident to take his life so he could just leave. No-one would miss him anyway. He darted out into the road directly in front of a car and it braked hard, still hitting him but not hard enough to kill. Just to give a few bruises.
“Blaine? Jesus Christ I’m sorry!” Burt shouted as he got out before freezing at the scene in front of him. Blaine’s face was a mass of old bruises and cuts, more on his body where clothing did not cover. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy and he just seemed…lost.
He bent down to help Blaine into a sitting position, checking over everything. Blaine didn’t make any noise, just stared off into the distance.
“Blaine are you okay?” Burt asked, waving his hand in front of his face to get the boy’s attention. Blaine wasn’t sure how to answer, no-one asked if he was okay.
“Who did this to you? Because I didn’t hit you that hard” He gestured to Blaine’s face and general area, waiting for an answer.
“Why do you care, not being rude?” Blaine asked instead of answering, a level of confusion melting into his voice. Burt was taken back by the question.
“Because I see you as a son and as my son I don’t want you getting hurt” Burt responded, crossing his arms to indicate that he was waiting for an answer to his own question.
Blaine was silent for a few minutes as he tried and failed to speak the words before, “M-my Dad” came out his lips. No sooner had they left that Blaine found himself being hugged into Burt’s arms, the man whispering words of comfort into his ear.
Was he being cared for? What was going on? Burt wasn’t hurting him, yet he proclaimed Blaine to be his son. This wasn’t right..was it?
“Y-your not hurting me” Blaine looked up at him with lost eyes, Burt wanting nothing more then to tell this boy a million times that no-one would hurt him again. He would never be alone again.
“I’m not and I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you either Blaine” He whispered.
“You should have know you could have talked to me” He added which made Blaine’s heart jump.
He had a Father to talk to. He could finally talk to his Father and it brought a small smile to his face.
“Thank you” He whispered. Not just for Burt listening as he told everything, every beating and every name he had been called, but simply for being his Father. Or at least a better one then his real Father.
