No Ordinary Family 11

Blaine didn't return to school immediately after the trial. George thought that it would be best to keep him out of Dalton until the news had blown over. They were the loneliest two weeks of Kurt's life. Warbler practices ceased, and the only time they convened was because they were all dreadfully bored, and they needed to vote on whether they would perform at the Spring Fling with Crawford Country Day. However, even after they voted yes, they still couldn't find the drive to actually make a set list and the meetings dissolved once more. Kurt felt like he could plank on the floor and have more fun than he already was. It was like living in the Twilight zone where everything was full of dread and life was an eternal funeral, and no one had even died!

Almost two months passed since who ordeal and Casey Anthony along with Anthony Weiner overshadowed the small town scandal. Kurt finished his classes for the day, but as he passed by the parking lot on the way to his room, he noticed that the parking space next to his, which had been left empty for the last few weeks, had been filled. His heart started racing, until he realized that he'd never seen the car before. It was a white Ford F150, totally against the Buchanan's style. It was probably just a visitor that didn't know that everyone at Dalton had assigned parking spaces.

There weren't many boys in the dorm yet, since Kurt ended his day earlier than most. He would go through his normal routine. Go up the stairs, unlock the fourth door on the right, go into his room, check his phone on the bed, realize that there were no texts or calls from Blaine, sigh, and then leave to grab a late lunch, alone, again. He didn't know why he kept checking. He hadn't heard from Blaine since he'd gotten home from the hospital the day after the trial, where he said that there would be a lot of changes happening in his life very quickly. He didn't elaborate, even though Kurt practically pleaded with him to do so. Then he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Kurt called, only to find that his number had been disconnected. He called George, same problem. It was as if the Buchanans went into hiding, retreating back into their money and leaving everyone else to pick up the mess they'd made.

And Kurt refused to be a maid.

He left his bag on his bed, grabbed his ID and headed out of his room to satisfy his grumbling stomach. He was about to turn to go back to the stairwell when a sound tickled his ear from behind. It was a quiet voice, only one person, talking to himself. Kurt turned on the balls of his feet, and started to walk down the hallway to investigate. There was an open door, room 411, with boxes piling up outside. He made a b-line toward the door, but he didn't have as much confidence to actually enter. He peaked around the doorframe to see Blaine's room, torn down and nearly bare, like his had been when he first arrived. Kurt felt anger and happiness swell painfully into his chest and throat, like a blocked pipe stemming the flow of a flood.

Blaine faced away from the door as he sat on the bed. He was staring out the window, watching other students walk across the grounds in the pleasant spring weather. He was dressed down in a fitted t-shirt and Kurt's favorite vintage wash jeans, and his hair was unkempt. From far away, Kurt noticed just how pale he had become. He and Kurt were nearly the same color, which was not healthy. What happened in the last weeks that made him look so awful? He looked worse than he had at the actual trial. He wasn't even wearing his contacts. He got up from the bed, and ran his finger through the thin layer of dust that had gathered on his desk during his absence. He shook his head, sighed, and started to move the dust with his index finger, as if writing something. It was as if he'd shed, and all that was left of the former Blaine Buchanan was a mere shell. Kurt couldn't allow himself to simply watch any longer. He knocked on the doorframe, and Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin. He put his hand over his heart, and his writing hand had to mess up what he had been writing as it skidded across the desk.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled as he took a cautious step into the room.

"It's…okay." Now that Blaine was facing him, Kurt didn't know how he could be so angry with him. He looked exhausted, with dark circles around his once vibrant eyes. He could tell that Blaine was attempting to look healthier than he really was. There was evidence of make up on his face, mostly blush, but it wasn't the right color. He tried to cover up the dark circles, but it had to be with cover up meant for his natural tone. He looked more like a sad, retired clown than a dapper school boy.

"What happened to you? Why didn't you ever call me? Where have you been?" Kurt couldn't stop himself. He'd been waiting weeks to hear from Blaine, and now he was standing right in front of him, trapped in his room like a sickly animal. He would get his answers. His voice was loud and urgent, like a bad cop.

"Kurt, slow down. Just settle…I'm sorry I haven't been here for you these last few months."

"Haven't been here for me? Blaine, you look half dead! That's right, you look completely awful! Your jeans are too loose, and last I checked, you didn't fit that well into size small shirts, and you never let your tags hang out. You never had to cover up your face before and use blush to make yourself look the least bit healthy. Are you sicker than they originally thought, or have you done this to yourself?" Kurt had always been an honest person, but he was telling himself even as he was speaking the words, that he was bordering on being brutally honest. He saw Blaine's face fall toward the ground, but Kurt was so full of emotional rage that he only saw that gesture as proof that he was getting through to him. "I'm sorry, Blaine, just you just have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know, I know." He sat back down on the bed, even though it was more of a graceful fall. He patted the spot next to him on the bare, vinyl mattress, and Kurt slowly sat down next to him. Now that they were less than a foot apart, the electricity that had been there started to recharge and Kurt's thigh began to tingle. He didn't know if Blaine felt the same way. His body looked too weak to do much of anything. "I'm sorry I left so suddenly. I told you before the trial that no matter what the outcome was, I would need to go away. It's still going to happen, Kurt. This isn't some fairy tale. It's not a novel that ends happily for us. I've been in and out of the hospital myself the last few weeks, but so has my mom, and if you think I'm in bad shape, you should see her. The pregnancy is taking a harsh toll on her, and it's gotten to the point where her mental state is in question. So in about a week, she and I will be moving out of our house and going to New York to live with her parents."

"You and her? What about George?"

"She doesn't want him around any longer." Kurt's eyes widened in complete shock.

"What do you mean she doesn't want him around anymore? He saved her skin! He's been there whenever her husband hasn't been."

"Her mental state is in question, Kurt." The brunette looked at the darker haired boy and saw just how much his family situation was contributing to his deteriorating health.

"But…as shocking as that is, that doesn't explain why you just cut me out of your life without a goodbye. Perhaps I could have helped you, but you just never let me."

"After the trial, my family had to kind of…stay in the shadows. We changed all of our phone numbers, email addresses, all of our contact information. Then we sold all of our cars, and bought new ones."

"So wait, that truck out there is yours?"

"Yeah, mine."

"Unfortunate. Carry on." Blaine smiled just slightly and then took another deep breath.

"We just wanted to stay under the radar. I haven't been in my house for about a month, since we've been living elsewhere. My mom's family is just…paranoid. It takes its toll on you, moving so often in so short a time period, always looking over your shoulder, and being separated from a life that keeps you…well…alive." It was then that Kurt saw Blaine uniform, neatly folded on the dresser. "And now I need to leave it forever. Dalton is the only place I ever felt really safe. Now I need to leave that too. I'm off to this place I don't really know, and I certainly don't think I belong in, without you, or my dad, or anyone that I can trust. It's all money out there, and I've come to learn that you can't trust money."

Kurt was mentally kicking himself for the attitude he had earlier. He was the last person Blaine needed any difficulties from.

"But…it's not like we'll never see each other again. New York isn't that far away."

"Kurt, be realistic. Even with facebook and Skype and all of those things, our relationship isn't going to be the same. It won't be as real." Kurt's jaw dropped into his lap, and he hated that Blaine wouldn't look up at him. "I hate that this happened so quickly for us Kurt…so fleetingly. But if we're really meant to be, it will all happen again." Kurt pushed himself up from the bed, feeling as if all the pressure in his brain was about to be let loose…again.

"So…so what, are you breaking up with me?" He always hated when someone in a couple asked that when it was completely obvious that's what was going to happen. He didn't realize that they were just in so much shock, they needed that clarification.

"To put it in the worst terms, yes." Blaine stood up, but not with the same urgency as Kurt. He looked like an old man getting up in the morning. "But just because we're not in a relationship doesn't mean that we need to stop being friends. That…that would kill me, Kurt. This is already so hard for me. I don't want to create any extraneous problems." Kurt bit his lip, and Blaine reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. He nearly brushed it away until George appeared in the doorway, more casual than he'd ever seen him in a pair of dark wash jeans and a button down shirt, untucked, under a dark blue cardigan.

"Oh, Master Hummel." He didn't look to be in the best of health either.

"We're just saying goodbye," Kurt said quickly. He turned back to Blaine, and erased George from his background. "I'm sorry that this couldn't last longer for us. It was the best thing that's happened to me in…so long."

"Yeah, except you were the best thing to happen to me in…forever." Blaine bit his lip now as his chin started to tremble. He hid his face for a moment and held up a finger in waiting. "I promise we'll see each other again, perhaps one day, if my mom's health allows it."

"Yeah…"

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, the first in their entire relationship as Kurt could remember. They both ended up staring at the floorboard between their feet. Blaine fidgeted awkwardly, and moved his foot around in the slight dust. Kurt heard George walk away, and then looked up once more. "Isn't this the part where you're supposed to kiss me?"

"Is it? I'm not good at romance, Ku-" Their lips were locked together in an instant. At first it felt forced and awkward, but soon their mouths melted together after two months of being apart. It all became as natural as it was before. Blaine placed his hand on the back of Kurt's neck and weaved his fingers into his hair, until it all just became too emotional for him, and he pulled away. "I'm sorry Kurt. I need to go…"

"I'll walk you to your…truck."

"Please don't make this harder. I'm sorry, I just…need to go."

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to the others?" Kurt called as Blaine pushed his way to the hall. The shorter boy paused, and then looked back at Kurt with a smile. "I think it's better for everyone that I don't. Wish them luck though, from me." He picked up the last box outside the door, and started to carry it down the hallway, and down the steps. Kurt wanted so badly to run after him, to tackle him to the ground, lock him away in his room and keep him at his side for the rest of their lives, but he knew he couldn't do that. If you love something, let it go.