DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor am I associated with it or RIB. I don't own anything - there we go. I also do not own the movie Meet Me in St. Louis nor do I own anything involved with that film (music and otherwise.)

Don't Run Away

By: xSlythStratasfaction

Warning: Spoilers for Season 4 - an AU of 4x07 on. Basically a 'what if' Blaine transferred back to Dalton like he was planning instead of being talked out of it like Sam was able to do in the actual episode.

TRIGGER WARNING: Slight mentioning of previous self-harm.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles will be out of sight

Meet Me in St. Louis was playing on the television, Judy Garland's angelic voice slipping from the speakers and filling the dark, cold living room while Blaine laid on the couch, a simple throw blanket wrapped around him as he half-heartedly watched the film. He was two days into his break and it was Christmas Eve, but it didn't feel like it. For one, there wasn't anyone else around except for him. His parents were off in Costa Rica on a holiday and his big brother, of whom he had planned to spend Christmas with, was off in Fiji preparing to shoot some d-list horror film.

None of his friends were around either, not that he had many to begin with. The Warblers had all gone home, the richer of his classmates heading off to foreign countries for their holiday, and when it came down to anyone in the New Directions, the only few Blaine still talked to were busy as well. Sam had gone with his family to Kentucky and Finn was busy with the preparations at the Hummel-Hudson household, so that was that.

Blaine was alone.

He tugged the blanket tighter around his shivering frame and groaned when a sharp, burning pain ran up both of his arms. The tender skin on his fingertips pulled against the blanket's fabric and he gasped at the pain, somehow forgetting that his hands were still healing from the damage he did to them just a few nights before after Kurt had left his dormitory in an emotional breakdown.


Before their fated conversation about what had gone down that night Blaine cheated, Kurt had wanted him to come spend Christmas with the Hudmels. Blaine had shot down the idea as soon as it came out, but if he was completely honest with himself, there was no place he'd rather be than with the Hudson-Hummels right now.

He knew that Christmas was a special time with that family. Burt tried to make Christmases a happy time for Kurt since the time they lost Mrs. Hummel was right around the holiday season, plus now that their family was blended and much larger, they had more extended family to deal with, as well as combined celebrations. When it came to the newer members of the family, Carole was an amazing cook and tended to make enough food for an army and Finn was a jolly giant, finding great joy in decorating the Christmas tree or putting up the lights. Burt and Kurt had their own celebrations as well and Blaine had been lucky enough to partake in them last Christmas; he had ruined any chance of ever spending another holiday with the Hudmels this year though.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
Next year all our troubles will be miles away

If only, Blaine thought to himself as he stared up at Judy, watching as she sang to the young girl onscreen. It had been years since any of his 'troubles' had been anywhere but inside his head, pecking at him and ruining his train of thought. Every single day he was hounded by past horrors whether they were the insults that had been flung at him daily at his old school or how disgusting he felt after his encounter with Eli. Nothing ever went away so easily. Even now he could still hear the sounds of his peers laughing at him, calling him names as he struggled to pick up his scattered books. He could still hear the sounds of Eli's breathy moans in his ear as the other boy climaxed against him and he could especially hear the jeering of the football team the night of his Sadie Hawkins' dance as they kicked and punched at him and his date, leaving the two of them for dead after a brutal beating.

The memories were always there, the sounds as clear as day, and no matter how much time passed, it still hurt.

It always hurt.

Once again as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Will be near to us once more

To be honest, Blaine didn't wish for any of his old friends to ever have to deal with him again. He could think of a million things better that those people could do with their time than to worry about him anymore. He didn't deserve anyone's pity or 'friendship' or anything else for that matter.

He always fucked everything up, which was why he was perfectly fine with being alone.

Or so he said... but it was never that easy.

Someday soon, we all will be together
If the Fates allow
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Sighing, he paused the movie and stretched himself out on the couch, his muscles aching from the lack of movement. He had lounged on the couch for several hours, only getting up to relieve himself. Other than that, he just laid there and existed – if one could even count watching tv for several hours straight as 'existing.'

He barely had the motivation to do anything. All he really wanted to do was sleep. Sleep away the strange feeling of numbness that crept over his body. Sleep away the cold that slipped up his spine and made everything feel frozen and stuck. He just wanted those strange feelings to go away, but they never did, and he had no idea how to make them stop.

Sometimes... sometimes he heard voices, could hear the snide remarks in the back of his mind just berating him for every little thing he's ever done wrong. Sometimes the voices turned into his parents' voices or the voices of his friends. A lot of the time though, they were the sounds of his enemies, his bullies, and his peers. They would pick at him, pick at his self-esteem, and his entire existence – and they just wouldn't stop.

You're no good, Blaine. You'll never be good enough for anyone. You're a fuck up. Your parents can do better. They have Cooper, he's all the son they need. Kurt deserves better than you and he always has. Why do you need all the solos? Artie sings better than you. Tina sings better than you. Why are you always running? Scared, Blaine? Why are you so afraid? Chicken! Come back, you wuss! Why are you crying? Baby, baby, crying for his mommy! How could you? I hope you get AIDS and die, you freak! Burn in hell, faggot.

Why don't you just kill yourself? Make the world a better place.

Blaine closed his eyes and laid back against the cushions, willing the awful words that filled his head to just go away for one measly second. He heard this shit day in and day out and for the longest time (when Kurt was around, he reminded himself gently) the voices would just dim down and he felt safe; however, the second Kurt left for New York and their time with one another was limited, it was like someone had opened the gates to hell.

Why don't you just do us a favor and die?

He cried out, yanking a throw pillow from off of the floor and pressed it to his face. Screaming, he kicked his legs and pushed the pillow down harder, reveling in the feeling of the lack of oxygen that he was getting. Sometimes this was the only way he could calm down: to scream – that or box, but he didn't have the motivation to even bother with anything too physical right now, so some days he shoved that option to the side and kept on screaming, as he was doing at that very moment. His muffled yells barely filled the quiet house, but after several minutes, Blaine quieted down and removed the pillow from his face. Tears escaped from behind his lashes and he laid completely still, the shadows from the television hurting his eyes.

No one could hate you more than you hate yourself, isn't that right, Blaine?

He ran a fist over his wet eyes and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he shakily breathed in and out. His breath remained stuttered for a few minutes before he finally calmed down enough to wipe his face on the cuff of his nightshirt. He took a look around the dark living room and sighed, rising from his seat on the couch to head to the bathroom. He had been sitting stationary for so long that he needed to go to the restroom, so he took off down the hall, ducking into the downstairs bath to relieve himself.

It was while he was in there that he heard the thud outside in the hallway.

His back tensed instantly. He finished what he was doing and stepped back, pressing his body against the door to listen for the noise. Once again, a loud thump echoed down the hall, followed by a quick succession of sharper sounds. Stomach churning, Blaine quickly made work of washing his hands, drying them on a towel as he stepped out into the hall and crept to the front door where the sounds were coming from. He stood in front of the door for a moment, breath held tightly in his lungs as he debated to look into the peephole to see who was outside.

However, before he could even move, a voice came from behind the door.

"Blaine? Blaine, please let me in."

It was Kurt.


Kurt stepped into the foyer and immediately Blaine could tell something was terribly wrong with him. Kurt's eyes were bright red and puffy, evidence that he had recently been crying, and the boy was shaking like a leaf, one fist pressed tight against his thin-lipped, expressionless mouth.


"I didn't know who to talk to."

A last resort, of course, the voice in the back of Blaine's head muttered, but Blaine shook his head and stepped closer to his ex, every nerve in his body on edge as he watched Kurt tremble before him.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"My dad, he- he-"

"He what?"

"He- he has cancer, Blaine. He h-has c-cancer."


As soon as that awful word spilled from his lips, Kurt collapsed into Blaine's arms, his hands clutching against Blaine's nightshirt as he bawled. Blaine gently wrapped his arms around the distraught boy, quietly reminding himself that no matter what, Kurt had been his best friend once and this was what best friends do – even though Kurt completely tore him to pieces a few days ago. But Kurt needed him now and that was all that mattered, no matter what happened back then. Slowly, Blaine ran his hands up and down the curve of Kurt's back, his head tucked against Kurt's as the boy in his arms sobbed brokenly.

"I don't- why does this shit h-happen to me?" Kurt cried, his tone wavering miserably as he struggled to not hyperventilate. Blaine tried his best to soothe his upset friend, but he was at a loss. Here Kurt was trying not to fall apart too badly and Blaine's emotions were all over the place.

He didn't know what to think at that moment. For one, he was heartbroken that this was happening, that once again Kurt was getting the shaft and his life was being turned upside down for no good reason. But then he was also shocked that Kurt had come to him of all people. He was the one who had destroyed it all after all, but yet Kurt came to him for comfort... even if he was, perhaps, a last resort.

It was all too much.

Blaine stepped back, his grip loosening on Kurt's body as he took a good look at him. "Why don't we go into the living room?" He asked quietly, his voice barely coming out strong or loud enough for Kurt to understand him. Before Kurt could even question what Blaine had said, Blaine turned and went into the den, Kurt following behind him.

"I-I'm sorry that I b-barged in like this... I didn't know what to do. I couldn't s-stay in that house any longer. Not with the l-lies."


Kurt plopped down on the couch, "They just kept on saying it was going to be okay. Dad said they caught it early enough that he should be fine, but I know he's lying. I just know he is."

"But what if he's not?"

"He is!" Kurt yelled, bursting into tears yet again. "They said the same thing when my mom got sick. They said she was going to get better and she didn't! She died! She died, but she was supposed to get better and I'm not ready to be an orphan! I'm 19, Blaine! Your parents are supposed to be there for you, for everything, for your wedding and their grandkids and everything and my dad's got cancer and he's dying!"

Blaine gnawed on his lower lip, his eyes flickering around his empty house. He looked at the pictures of his parents with their fake smiles and he couldn't help but feel like an orphan himself, even though it felt horrible to think such terrible thoughts. Shaking his head, he turned back to Kurt and cautiously took a seat on the couch next to him. "I don't know what to say, Kurt. I'm sor-"

"You don't have to apologize. You didn't do this," Kurt whispered, slowly reaching a hand out to Blaine. He held his hand palm up and Blaine gently took it within his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I wish I could help you."

"I wish..." He trailed off and Blaine closed his eyes, feeling the tears begin to brim. A swift tug of his hand made him tumble forward and he fell against Kurt's shoulder, gasping when Kurt's arms snaked around him.

"Can you just hold me please? Like you used to?"

"Kurt, I don't think that's a good idea." Anxiety swirled in Blaine's stomach like a foul, sour hurricane. He felt like he was going to throw up or pass out and he wasn't sure what the cause was. Was it Kurt? Was it their close proximity? What was it? He meant to pull away, but as soon as he felt Kurt shudder against him, all rational thought went out the window and his emotions got the better of him. He slowly pulled away and leaned back on his side of the couch, pulling Kurt on top of him. He could feel Kurt lay down on his chest, the boy's head right above his steady beating heart, and he slid an arm around Kurt's waist. Softly, he began to hum.

"Is that Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas?" Kurt asked, his voice muffled from his position on Blaine's chest. Blaine nodded and ran a hand through Kurt's thick hair.


"Oh. I love that song."

"I know."

Blaine continued to hum, despite the fact that his entire body was aching, a slow throbbing ache that spread from his heart to the tips of his toes and his fingertips. He was trying his best to keep it cool and not shut down, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his despair forever. After what had happened the other day in his dorm, he found himself absolutely terrified of Kurt – not because the boy hurt him or anything... but because no matter what, Kurt still had Blaine's heart in the palm of his hand and he had all the power. He could easily shatter Blaine like thin glass and it was evident in how quickly Blaine had fallen into soothing friend mode that he was easily taken when it came to Kurt.

And that scared him to death. More than anything had ever scared him before.

Still carding his hand through Kurt's hair, Blaine finished his song, unpausing his movie as soon as he was done. Kurt lay nestled against his chest, having been lulled asleep by the gentle vibrations of Blaine's humming and with his warm weight on top of Blaine's cold, stiff form, Blaine could do nothing but stare blankly up at the wall. He sighed heavily and curled his arms around Kurt, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest as he felt Kurt's heart beat against his own.

It used to be like this before you fucked it all up, Blaine. You used to be able to do this for hours. Look at what you messed up.

Blaine closed his eyes and tightened his grip around Kurt, willing the words that batted around in his brain to just disappear. There was no doubt in his mind that this was only going to be a one-night sort of deal. Tomorrow Kurt would wake up and realize his mistake, realize that he came running to Blaine of all people and then he'd go running out the door and back home... and Blaine would be alone again. In the morning, Kurt would be gone again and as much as Blaine didn't want to see him go, he knew it was inevitable and he'd better just take it all in now.

So he did. He restarted the movie and snuggled more into the couch, his arms still cradling Kurt as he pressed himself further into the cushions. After tonight things would go back to being as awful as they were before, but until then, Blaine was going to savor the moment and the fact that Kurt was with him. He pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's warm forehead and closed his eyes, allowing the coldness that had overtaken his heart to just wilt away for the night as he soothed his ex-boyfriend.

Because tomorrow would be a completely different day with a completely different Kurt and Blaine even if it was Christmas.

A/N: Let me know what you thought. I hope to have the next chapter out soon (quicker than this one hopefully) and in the next one, a pretty pivotal conversation will come up, so stay tuned.