Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN GLEE. Kurt, Blaine, Wes, David, Thad and whatever character I may include don't belong to me. I also don't own the 2011 Libyan protests.
Authors note: Thanks for taking an interest in my story ya'll! Unlike my other stories, I plan on actually going somewhere with this one^^. If you are unaware of what's going on in Libya, I highly recommend looking it up and getting some background information, although you don't have to to read this story. I've been doing research for the past couple of days, so I think my information is pretty accurate, but I will stretch the truth a bit to make this story work. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to ask.
Chapter one: Hell hath no fury
The ragtag team of filthy young adults watched eagerly as the curly-haired man grasped the nasty broken phone. "Please Shuester, just send us a plane-No, a helicopter! Just give us some sort of transportation out of here!" He spoke in a desperate tone, blood and sweat running down his brow into his eyes. His traveling companions looked no better, covered in dirt and blood-some of it not even theirs. Their clothes were ripped and messy-the one female's flowered dress had been reduced to hardly anything more than tatters. From outside, there was the sound of gunshots but they went unacknowledged. No one even flinched. They were all broken. "Please just-you can't…!" They all watched silently as their friend stuttered into the mobile phone. Finally, he snapped it shut.
"Blaine?" A green eyed chestnut haired man stepped forward and pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. Blaine, who seemed to be in a trance, didn't respond for the longest time. Finally he whispered,
"He told me to stay put. He'll contact us as soon as possible."
"That's good, right? They're coming, right?" The sole woman piped up. Blaine suddenly screamed, and threw the phone against the wall where it shattered into a million pieces.
"Blaine, what the fuck?" A tall ebony skinned man exclaimed. "How are they going to contact us now?"
"They aren't." His voice was monotonous. "They're not coming. Guys, we've been abandoned."
36 hours earlier…
"…And that's why Gaddafi is no good for us." The old Arab woman smiled as she finished her speech. Blaine Anderson quickly jotted something down in his notebook, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"I see. Thank you very much, ma'm." He nodded to her, before turning and walking back to his crew. His camera man David was slowly sweeping Green Square, catching the protestors and their signs on camera while Wes and Thad chatted up some locals. Blaine sighed in annoyance. He was a good looking boy, with curly dark hair and hazel eyes, and the Libyan woman had absolutely no problem talking to him about their cause. All he had to do was flash them his hundred watt smile and they'd tell him anything he wanted to know. Blaine, though, was bored out of his mind. When William Shuester, the president of the broadcast agency where he worked told him he was going to be sent out of the country for his very first national story he had been ecstatic. He would finally be getting out of sleepy Lima Ohio and get to see the world. Not to mention the protests going on in North Africa were big news back in the United States, and Shuester had promised him a raise and a transfer to the branch in New York if he wrote a good story. He'd expected action and adventure, people running the streets with machetes and bats threatening peoples' lives. He'd even been looking forward to it. The idea of danger at every turn was exciting to him. But when he, David, Thad, and Wes had arrived in Tripoli, he found that the third world country he'd kind of half been expecting didn't exist. For one thing, Tripoli was right off of the Mediterranean Sea, and was filled with rich old architecture. The churches and cathedrals were beautiful and Blaine and his crew spent quite a lot of time being regular old tourist when they weren't interviewing protestors. The protestors themselves were quite peaceful, and settled for remaining mostly around Green Square instead of parading around the streets with their signs. They were likable too. When Blaine asked for an interview or asked for someone's opinion, they offered it up freely without argument. No one had even made a comment against their American roots. While Tripoli did make an excellent vacation spot, it just wasn't quite the adventure Blaine had been hoping for.
"Hey, how's it going?" Blaine sidled up next to David right as he began packing up his camera.
"Oh, Hey." David grinned. "I was just finishing up. You and the guys wanna go check out Sabratha?" Blaine smirked. He definitely wasn't getting that raise. He and his friends spent more time vacationing then writing the article.
"Yeah, sure." He agreed. "Although I'm pretty sure Wes and Thad wanted to go to the beach." He jerked a thumb towards his friends, who were chatting up two very lovely Arab women. David chuckled in disbelief.
"Do they ever get tired of hitting on woman?" He asked jokingly.
"I don't even know. Let's just hope these women know enough English to tell them if they have husbands or not though. I really don't want to get beat up again." Blaine grimaced at the memory. Two days earlier, Wes and Thad had chosen two women who knew absolutely no English. While trying to convince them to come back to their hotel with them, their two very angry husbands who knew perfect English stomped up and basically beat everyone's ass with the exception of David, who managed to run off before the fight could really start laughing the entire time. When they returned to the hotel all beaten and bruised, David had been stretched across his and Blaine's bed.
"Why did they beat you up Blaine?" He had asked while laughing his ass off.
Blaine had looked at him miserably, doing his best not to whine he responded, "I don't know! I tried to tell them I was gay, but they wouldn't listen."
" Then you got lucky, Homosexuality is against the law here, remember?" David had reminded him. Luckily for them, the company had sprung for an expensive and very nice hotel. Blaine had heard plenty of horror stories about journalists who had had to pitch up tents and sleep on the side of the street in other countries. The only problem was that they could only afford one room for all four of them, but David had been cool about sharing a bed with Blaine.
"I know you don't like me, so why should I care?" He had said. That had been a tiny bit of a lie. Blaine actually had liked David at one point in their lives, back when they both went to Dalton academy when they were still in high school. David had just been so cool about it when he found out Blaine was gay, and Wes and Thad had both acted kind of strange towards him after they found out. It had only been for a couple of days and it wasn't really a bad strange. More like they just didn't know how to act now. They had wanted to know if they could still talk about girls around him. David had been so cool when he found out, that Blaine had wondered if he were gay himself. When he found out he wasn't, Blaine was pretty disappointed but soon got over it and hadn't pursued another boy since.
"We always go to the beach." David moaned in disappointment. This of course, wasn't true. Since arriving in Tripoli, they had been to their fair share of museum's and historical sites, but still. They'd been to the beach a lot too. Blaine patted his head affectionately.
"I know darling. But those two idiots don't understand fine culture like we do. Historical sites are wasted on them."
"Hey!" Wes cried, as he walked up to them. "I resent that."
"Hey Wes," David smiled. "Where's Thad?"
"Still talking to those girls." Wes rolled his eyes. "They were more interested in him then me." David and Blaine chuckled as he scratched the back of his head bashfully. "So no beach today?"
"Nah." Blaine agreed. "I wanna go back to the hotel and nap. I'm still kind of suffering from jet lag here. What time is it back home?" David checked his watch.
"Well, since it's ten o' clock here, then it's…three am there." They all shared a collective groan. Somewhere in the distance, they heard somebody shout in Arabic. They didn't think much of it.
"I don't understand why you wanted to go to Benghazi." Wes suddenly commented out of the blue. "It's so calm here. I like the lack of violence, you know? It's nice." Blaine rolled his eyes. He would've responded, if the sound of a gunshot hadn't ringed out. The first of many. Green Square erupted into mass panic, people running and shoving and screaming. Blaine quickly lost his friends in the shuffle for safety.
"David! Wes! Where are you?" He screamed out as he pushed through the people who were pushing him right back. People were falling all around him, and he turned looking desperately for where the gunmen were coming from. He didn't see anyone. "Wes?" He thought he spotted his friends spiky black hair in the crowd, but he was quickly swallowed up by the Libyans. "Dammit," Blaine swore, as he began running blindly with no destination. He had no clue where the gunshots were coming from, until he heard a whistling sound as a bullet whished past his ear. Looking straight up, he could see what looked like military men snipping them from planes. 'The airforce?' He thought in confusion. The Libyan airforce was attacking them? But…why? "Thad?" He suddenly spotted his brown haired friend shielding some children behind him in a doorway. "Thad!" Blaine screamed as he watched his friend go down. Right as he began to make a dash for his injured friend, he felt his chest go numb. He stopped in his tracks and looked down at his blue T-shirt. Why was his chest numb? He couldn't see anything wrong with himself….a dark red blood stain began to slowly grow in the center of his chest. He rest his hand gently against it before pulling it back and looking at it, staring in horror at his blood drenched hand. Everything suddenly went black.
So what did you guys think? Let me know. And for those of you who don't know, Benghazi was where the Libya protest originally started, and also where the violence had been the most prominent up until this air raid. Wes knows about Blaine's desire for adventure, and that's why he talks about Blaine wanting to go to Benghazi. Also, the Sabratha lies about 40 miles west of Tripoli and is a popular tourist site. Read and Review, or else my chapters might come kinda slowly XD but good news, KURT APPEARS NEXT CHAPTER! Thanks guys!