A.N. Hi there! Those who have read my other fics know very well that I have a twisted knot in my seemingly innocent being – and that knot is dark!Blaine. To say I'm obsessed would be putting it too lightly. I'm trying out something new in this fic since normally my stories revolve around physical abuse but after receiving a couple of (totally awesome) messages I realised some people enjoyed the mental manipulation even more, wanting Kurt to feed off hurt and so on. Well, I'd decided to give it a shot and hopefully you guys will like it! Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Kurt or Blaine, the only thing that's mine is the plot of this fic. I'm also Scottish so I apologise if my UK terminology and spellings accidently spill into the dialogue of the US-born Klaine – I'll try to be careful!
Please enjoy and let me know what you think! I have loads of ideas right now so if you'd rather I focused on something else then tell me. I swear I won't be offended. :P
Out With The Old, In With The New
It was the groundskeeper who saw him first. He stared up at the figure on the rooftop, startled, which was to be expected. After all, it was obviously a patient and patients should be in their rooms fast asleep. Even in the day time patients were not allowed any higher than the third floor of the manor house. Alarmed, the groundskeeper began shouting out to him to go back downstairs before he called the doctors out of bed. Of course, his shouting itself pretty much made his threat void as most of the hospice staff was probably now wide awake and wondering why there was so much noise at 1am.
Ben just looked down at the man, but didn't see him. He was barely paying any attention to anything. His mind was racing, whilst his heart pounded trying to keep up with the energy surging through him. He was scared. It was a long way down from where he stood perched on the rooftop. He took a few steps up and found himself inches from the ledge. Peering down, he began to feel dizzy.
Calm down, Ben, calm yourself!
He took a few deep breaths of the cool summer night air but found that it froze his insides. Good. It stopped him from swaying too much. He stood as a statue despite the sudden wind which took him by surprise. He wasn't sure what he was going to do now but he sure as hell didn't want to fall and die thanks to a little wind. If he was going to die, it would be on his terms.
People were beginning to join the groundskeeper out on the vast front lawn. Some of them were fellow patients all excited to have a night-time expedition outside, others were hospital staff unsure if they were evacuating or if they should be sending the patients back to their rooms. When they looked up, however, they all knew what situation they were in. A group of nurses and doctors dashed inside and climbed up the many staircases in an attempt to reach the poor boy from room 63 who clearly didn't know what danger he was putting himself in. But the door to the rooftop was bolted shut. As Ben listened to the staff members throwing themselves at the steel door he couldn't help but think That's funny – I don't remembering locking it.
'Ben! Come on, Ben, open the door and get down from the ledge!'
'Please, Ben, just open the door and we'll get you inside!'
'Leave me alone…' Ben found himself uttering, distraught. He was too quiet for the staff to hear, but it didn't go completely unheard.
'Just tune them out.' Said a voice behind him. Ben didn't need to turn to know who was with him, in fact, it would have surprised him to know the person wasn't there.
'I'm scared. They keep shouting at me…waving their hands – what should I do?'
Ben turned his head to look at the other person on the rooftop. Blaine stepped out from the shadows where he had been silently observing. The strikingly beautiful boy wore only a tank top and jersey pants and looked very much at ease compared to the shivering Ben who still obediently wore the white pyjamas given to him by nurses on his first day in this hell-like prison. Even with the wind getting stronger Blaine's dark curls looked just as soft and supple as they did when Ben had been allowed to play with them beneath the sheets in his bed. Ben wanted to reach out and touch them again but his hand was caught gently by Blaine's before he could.
'What do you want to do?' Blaine asked him, his voice quiet but his tone firm.
Ben fumbled over his words as loose tears escaped down his pale cheeks. 'I-I don't know. I mean, I do know. I just…I don't know if I can go through with it.'
The wind caught Ben by surprise and pushed him away from the ledge and back onto the solid rooftop foundations. He stumbled towards Blaine, wishing the boy would pull him in and tell him it's all going to be okay. But Blaine didn't. Instead, he steadied Ben and gave his face a gentle stroke with one hand as the other held intertwined their fingers. 'Benny…we talked about this. You said you didn't want to be trapped anymore-'
'And I don't-!'
'And you know that there's no way you'll ever get out of here.'
''I know that!'
'And you know there's nothing for you here. Just hate and pain.'
Blaine went quiet again as he watched the shaking boy sniff with his head bowed. He gently lifted Ben's chin so they were looking into each other's eyes. Blaine lowered his voice to a whisper. 'You're mom isn't coming back for you, Benny…'
The words distressed Ben so bad his face contorted painfully as if he had been stabbed in the heart. His lip quivered uncontrollably and he quickly began sobbing. 'I know…'
Assured fingers ran through Ben's hair, twisting the ends in a way that promised both affection and control. Had Ben been looking hard enough he would have seen just how intense Blaine's gaze was but he hurt so bad he could barely register that Blaine was still touching him. 'She left you here because she didn't want you impeding on her 'perfect life'. She didn't think you were special but, Benny…you are.' Ben looked up at that. He felt cradled as if despite all the torture and confusion there was still someone who cared and wanted the best for him. 'You're too special for this world, Benny, and everyone should know that. You need to leave them behind and start over.' Their eyes both turned to the ledge.
'What if…what if I just ran?' Ben sniffed. He knew it was disgusting but he still wiped his snivelling face with his sleeve. 'You and me, we can go. Go somewhere no one knows us. Go somewhere where there's no one else but us. W-we can escape all this if we wanted to!'
'Don't be silly, Benny, we can't run now.' Blaine shook his head and studied him like he was a little boy. Perhaps he was. 'You've made a scene. You've stepped up onto the roof. They know you aren't happy and they know you're capable of ending it all right here right now. You think they'll let you have any freedom at all after this?' As if on cue, the doctors trying to knock down the rooftop door gave another almighty attempt which shook the hinge dangerously. 'Think what they'll do to you. They'll drug you up then lock you up.'
It was truth. All of it. After all, it was from Blaine. Blaine would never lie. The heart full of pain now sunk like a stone anchor. It made sense. As soon as those sadistic two faced monsters got their claws into him he'd be strapped up tightly and left to rot in a coffin-like cell where they would continue to 'study' him until he died. They call him mentally unstable now, what name would they use on their little clipboards after this stunt? The cold hard truth dazed him more than the fact he could be so stupid and thoughtless in the first place. He gripped Blaine's hand tightly.
'I'd rather die…' He whispered, overcome with fear.
'I know, Benny.'
The rooftop door shuddered again and a hinge fell off. There wasn't much time. Without so much as a word, Ben turned back towards the ledge and Blaine helped him up back to the spot he stood on before. The crowd gathered on the lawn below let out a collected horrified gasp as he came into view again. As Blaine went to back off, Ben gripped his hand again. 'B-blaine…I…'
Blaine nodded, as if understanding. In response he brought the shaking boy's hand up to his lips and tenderly kissed every fingertip before finally placing a lingering kiss on his warm and exposed wrist. After a few more seconds Ben lost his grasp on him but wasn't sure how. As his beautiful angel continued to back away from him he wondered how it could be that someone so tormented and broken like him could have been so lucky to have met and loved such a caring spirit like Blaine near the end. It was Blaine who showed him the way out and helped him get over the fear of the journey. Ben finally turned back towards the drop. Another few deep breaths and he was ready. He could feel Blaine's encouragement warm him up until he knew for a fact that everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay if he just took one more step…
There were screams. Other people whimpered. Some didn't say anything at all as they watched the boy from room 63 fall. Despite the great anticipation and panic, it was all over before anyone knew it. It all became silent. No one moved, except from those who crumpled to the grass when they fainted or doubled over to vomit. As if time was slowing down, doctors and nurses finally took nauseated steps towards the body. They were sick to their stomachs – not at the sight before them, but at the boy himself.
Benedict Howard. Fifteen years old. The picture of innocence with the soul of a child. Doctors had high hopes for him to be ready to visit home in the coming month, and back in Louisiana his mother had already created a countdown calendar to the very day of the proposed visit. Everything about this was wrong. This should not have happened.
Back up on the rooftop, Blaine perched his head on the edge just enough so that he could get a good look at the mess below but also remain hidden. Since the now-stone-cold-dead boy had lifted his foot off the edge, Blaine had been unable to hold back his excited grin any longer. He was annoyed he didn't move fast enough to watch him hit the ground but the sight was enough for him right now. He viewed it as his 'fix', his required amount of tantalisingly tabooed pleasure. He took a few long moments to watch the blood ooze out towards the lawn and he hoped that it stained enough blades of grass for him to collect when no one was looking. Overhearing an almighty crack, Blaine quickly slid back into he shadows just in time for the rooftop door to burst open. The panicked doctors and nurses – not yet aware that they had failed in their overall goal – ran towards the ledge and was met with the mournful display of grievers around the gruesome tragedy.
Remaining in the shadows as much as possible, the dark haired boy crept to the door and disappeared downstairs.
If I'm lucky I might be able to catch a glimpse of him from the lawn before the bastards shoo us off to bed…
The car rode over the road bumps harshly, bringing the sleeping Finn out of his slumber with a tired-yet-startled 'Whawasat?' He blinked, eyes landing on the other occupants of the car before turning towards the outside where nothing but trees met his sight.
Burt chuckled as he steered the car through a set of iron gates and looked at his step son via his rear view mirror. 'Sorry buddy, did I wake you?'
'Mnn…' Finn rubbed his eyes and sat back in his seat. 'We almost there yet?'
Carol nodded. 'We're here. Just passed the entrance.' Her words made Finn turn in his seat. The iron gates were closing automatically behind them, separating the forests from the private grounds they were now driving on. 'If you look up ahead you'll see the place.' He now turned forward and shuffled near the front of the car to get a better look. Sure enough, up ahead of them stood the biggest manor house Finn had ever seen – both in real life and in movies. Constructed of large reddened bricks and draped attractively with ivy and large bay windows, the building looked like something found only in novels set in the classy English countryside but here it was in rural West Virginia. Carol gasped. 'Oh, look at it! Isn't it just beautiful?' Finn would have agreed under different circumstances. He hummed vaguely and gave a discreet sideways glance to the boy sitting next to him in the back seat. Kurt was still staring out his own window and was clearly not paying anyone else any attention. He had been doing that since they crossed the state line and hadn't uttered a word since they left the house back in Lima.
The car pulled up by the side of the manor's main door. Out on the front lawn a few dozen people were enjoying the afternoon sun and engaging in various activities, from reading to playing some amateur form of baseball. Many of those people wore light coloured shirts and matching pants with glimmeringly white flats on their feet. The nurses. Men and women paid to care for the other people in their company. Kurt felt sick as his eyes were forced to land on them.
'Alrighty, let's have a look.' Burt said in a cheerful tone which didn't fool anyone. They didn't travel all this way just to 'have a look'. But it didn't hurt to pretend, as Carol demonstrated as she enthusiastically nodded and stepped out the car with much oh-ing and ah-ing. 'Come on, kiddo,'
Finn turned around having taken a few steps towards the lawn, and watched as Burt tried to coax his step brother out of the car. Kurt avoided his family's gaze and slowly unbuckled himself before slipping out of his seat silently as if afraid of setting off alarm bells. Carole smiled warmly and took him by the arm towards the front door where a gentleman in a smart suit and tie waited for them.
Finn went to follow but was stopped by Burt placing a hand on his chest. 'Hey, Finn,' Burt murmured gently, 'I think maybe it's best you have a look around while we…' He glanced at the man who was greeting his wife and son pleasantly, 'sort things out. We shouldn't be too long.'
Finn felt a little dejected at Burt's request, but as he watched Kurt enter the manor with his head bowed low, he nodded. 'Sure…just call me when you're done.' Truthfully he was also a little relieved. He didn't want to be part of this any more than he already was.
Blaine had been watching from the large bay window on the second floor as the foreign car crunched its way down the gravelled drive. Having kept very accurate tabs on the vehicles of the staff and families of other patients, Blaine knew this car was new to him and he was mildly interested in the visitors of the day. After all, since Ben died life in Dalton House had been unbearably dull. No one trusted him since he was known to have a bad influence on weak-minded patients and no one fully believed he didn't have something to do with Ben's decision to jump that night. Patients who knew better avoided him and those who didn't know better were always steered well clear of Blaine by those witch-nurses. He rested his forehead on the cool glass. The doors opened. A man, and a woman – his wife? Typical. Now, who's the lucky sucker who's been dragged here this time? A tall boy, muscular and broad, awkwardly stumbled out and took a few curious steps towards the grass where the freaks played with their babysitters. Yeah, babysitters. After all, all they do is watch and try to not let the poor souls kill themselves accidently until someone comes to take over their shift. Blaine arched a brow. This boy didn't seem like the normal patient type. He looked too curious, too trusting to be here for himself. No something wasn't right here – oh?
Another boy got out the car. He was much slighter in build, with skin so pale and fragile-looking Blaine was certain it would shatter at a mere touch. And his pink lips curved down into a sorrowful frown which betrayed the fact that he was the latest addition to the Dalton House family. His nose now pressed firmly against the window, Blaine felt his heart lift at the sight of the tragically beautiful boy. Everything about him was…perfect, like he was created with Blaine's idea of beauty in mind, from his ocean-blue eyes to his slender fingers on his small hands. Blaine's breathing hitched as the family headed inside – except from the larger boy, who seemed to be dismissed to wander the grounds. Voices could be heard as Dr Jamieson welcomed the visitors and the new patient into the manor, and Blaine was quick to sneak along the second floor landing to the top of the stairs. Nurses believed he was enjoying the fresh air in the garden maze out the back, so he had to keep to the shadows. He tucked his legs against the railing and rested his head in the best possible position in order to watch the boy and his family enter.
'Mr and Mrs Hummel? Oh, sorry, Hudson-Hummel?'
'How do you do, Dr…?'
'Jamieson. Pleasure to meet you. And you must be Kurt – please, come inside and we'll have a chat.'
Blaine cursed that damned doctor for taking the family into his study so quickly, but at least he had told Blaine the name of the daringly striking newcomer. Kurt Hummel. Kurt. How dignified. Blaine smiled. The name suited him. He watched as the boy avoided speaking or looking at the doctor, and had to be dragged into the study by the pump of a woman beside him.
Blaine couldn't help but wonder what brought someone like Kurt to a place like this. He hummed quietly as he considered a few options. Perhaps he was anorexic? He was skinny enough. Or perhaps he suffered from schizophrenia – oh, now that would be fun! Blaine liked it when those types passed through the Dalton doors. They were so easy to manipulate and so fun to mess with. Sure, he'd be punished but it was so worth it. Or maybe he suffered from anger issues? No, that didn't seem likely. Since the guy from room 57 was transferred Dalton hadn't accepted any more cases like that. It wasn't as interesting to probe someone with anger issues as it was someone with multiple personalities inside them. So what was it?
'Kurt, sweetie, Dr Jamieson just asked if you wanted some tea,' Carole nudged her step son softly.
Kurt's eyes remained transfixed on the floor. 'No.'
'Kurt, be polite to-'
'No, I don't want tea. Thank you.'
Burt and Carole gave the doctor apologetic looks, to which he kindly shook his head. 'It's okay. Kurt is going through a lot, especially right now in this new environment. But it'll pass. Kurt, the reason your parents brought you here is to help you. You have some deep-rooted issues – you know that – but at Dalton House we can help you free yourself from them. We aim to give you the tools and skills to help yourself, there's nothing scary about that, is there?'
Kurt's head rose and his glaring eyes stared into the doctors. 'There is if you truly think I'm scared. I'm not scared, Dr Jamieson, I just don't want to be here.' He shuffled himself around in his chair and turned his attention to outside.
'Leaving your home, your family, friends, and the life you know – I'd be surprised if you weren't petrified, Kurt,' Dr Jamieson continued, undeterred by the new patient's coldness. 'Dalton is unfamiliar now but it'll all change once you give it a chance. Everyone here is friendly and truly cares for your wellbeing, and with our help we can get you back on track so you can leave your past behind you. Isn't that what you want? Kurt?'
Kurt didn't answer. His attention was no longer lingering in the Head Doctor's study but out on the lawn where a red squirrel was being chased by a group of thirty-something's dressed in unflattering gowns and red tartan slippers. No amount of convincing would change his decision. This place was a dumping ground, and it hurt too much to consider his own family had brought him here. They didn't trust him enough to let him stay. Why would they, after what he did? No, Kurt didn't want to think about it. He had noticed Finn didn't follow them in for the meeting. That was to be expected too; his brother hadn't spoken to him at all since that night Kurt woke up in hospital and now, no matter how much Kurt wished he would, the larger boy would simply not engage in any form of communication with him, as if already acting like Kurt wasn't there.
Kurt mentally berated himself as he allowed himself to notice his dad's voice. Before he could stop he turned to face him. The doctor was gone for some reason, leaving only Burt and Carole kneeling down by Kurt's chair. Carole took the boy's hand and held onto it tightly. 'Please,' she begged, 'we need you to understand why you need to stay. We want to keep you with us but we-we just don't have what you need. If anything were to happen to you I-I…'
Burt was tearing up as he tried to console his wife. He then cleared his throat and nodded. 'We can't risk losing you. We can't. You know it had to come to this.'
Kurt stared at them, emotionless. He felt so much but his face wouldn't take it. He wanted to tell them everything he felt but his throat tightened around the words. He wanted to throw his arms around them and plead for them to forgive him and let him stay because he couldn't cope being apart from them, but his muscles wouldn't strain for any movement. Carole wiped away tears from her eyes, causing mascara marks to form across her temples. 'You know it's just temporary. You'll be home before you know it. We just need you to say you'll stay until that time comes.'
Something inside Kurt stirred. Whether it was the sense of having some form of freedom back or if it was part of him admitting to being touched by his parent's words, he did not know. All he knew was that for some reason both his dad and Carole did not want to leave him but some surreal logic told them they had to. If he were to refuse to stay he'd get what he wanted but he'd put them through some form of turmoil he couldn't understand. It made no sense to him why he was here, as the 'deep-rooted issues' he apparently had were not what he considered fixable through doctors and therapy. They were personal. He needed to deal with them himself. Yet, for some reason he found himself nodding. Yes, he would stay. He'd work on himself on his own, screw the professionals. Then he'd be able to go home and his family would trust him again because he 'got help'. It was the only way to put his parents at ease, even if it meant surrendering to something Kurt had been desperately trying to avoid.
'Fine. I'll give it a chance, if you guys promise to come get me if I change my mind.'
Burt and Carole nodded profusely and they both took hold of Kurt's hands as a sign of promise. 'Day or night, we promise.'
The longer Blaine was left to think about it, the more desperate he was to find out why Kurt was brought to Dalton House in the first place. Fortunately, the hospital staff never grasped the concept of discreetness. After a brief twenty minutes, Dr Jamieson emerged alone from his study and called for a nearby housemaid, Delia, to his side.
'Hummel will be put up across from Levin's room – is that room 17? –anyway, tell whoevers in charge for those rooms to keep a very close eye on him. Depression, yes, but also attempted suicide. No, no, it was several months ago but he seems reluctant to stay so I want all eyes on him over the next week or so. Just until he settles in. Thank you.'
Blaine bit his lip. So it was depression? Interesting. And the suicide part, well, that would add to whatever fun Blaine decided to have with him. Often those that vulnerable are desperate to find someone to confide in, and Blaine could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. But the best part was Kurt's room number: 17. It was right down the hall from Blaine's own room. That would come in handy, for sure.
So, Kurt Hummel, the new beautifully delicate flower of Dalton House, I'm going to enjoy breaking you.
A.N. I hope you guys liked this chapter, and are interested enough to read more! Review with any comments, suggestions or questions - I love them all.