They finished with a stomp and rugged flourish, facing the panting Warblers and smiling defiantly. Blaine grinned widely, feeling so energized and free in a way that only performing could instill. He turned to offer a breathless “Good job, guys!” to Finn and Rory, who he saw had been struggling with the choreography, and turned back to shoot a snarky comment at Sebastian, when he saw the slushee cup.
Aimed at Kurt.
“No,” was the only coherent thought he had, feeling his stomach drop and his muscles tense in a split second, ready to jump and take the slushee for Kurt, anything for Kurt.
But then it was too late, because the next thing he knew there was red in the air and then it was on Kurt’s face, and then there was a split second of silence, a pause where Blaine’s heart stopped and everything went silent because this could not be happening to Kurt, not again. Then the most heartbreaking, horrible screaming filled everything and it might as well have been a knife in Blaine’s heart because now Kurt was on the floor, screaming in pure agony and clutching his face helplessly and writhing on the floor.
And Sebastian was standing there, smiling down at Kurt, the cup in his hand still dripping red slush onto the floor.
Blaine froze–everything froze, really–then he looked at Kurt one time before lunging at Sebastian.
He punched whatever skin he could find, eyes blurring over with angry tears. He felt his fist colliding repeatedly with Sebastian’s face, but felt he wasn’t hitting nearly hard enough, not when Kurt was still screaming and sobbing in the background, and fuck, it was all his fault, he shouldn’t have transferred, he should have jumped sooner, he should have, he should have. His thoughts moved fast, but his fists moved faster, and he dodged all of Sebastian’s feeble attempts to strike back. And he just kept hitting, finally letting go, releasing everything he had bottled up since transferring to McKinley. All the anger and frustration rushed, filling his ears and veins. Then arms were pulling him away, pulling him back to his senses, back to the harsh reality of now, and he realized what he was doing, how he must look.
Blaine looked around wildly, glancing at the Warblers’ rapidly retreating backs, before rushing over to Kurt and collapsing next to him, rubbing his back in small circles and bending close to his ear. He murmured meaningless words of comfort as he helped Kurt sit up so he could carry him. Kurt was still clutching at his eyes, sobbing and making these heart-wrenching sounds that made Blaine want to tear his heart out and stomp it into nothing, anything to stop the shattering feeling in his chest. But he needed to help Kurt. He needed to.
Kurt was in his arms, and Blaine didn’t even notice the weight, because right now he could have weighed as much as a house and Blaine wouldn’t have cared. He remembers bits and pieces of running, but mostly it was just a blur as he and the rest of the New Directions ran as fast as they could to the cars and to the hospital.
There, Blaine sat by as a wriggling Kurt was sedated by a faceless nurse. He sat stonily through the doctor’s toneless rambling, hearing “severely scratched cornea” and “required surgery, or loss of vision”. He calmed the frantic parents as they arrived and went into a frenzy upon seeing Kurt lying in a hospital bed with an eyepatch, unconscious.
He sat by Kurt’s bed, waiting for him to wake up, never releasing his hand.
And he helped him home, and into his pyjamas and into bed. And he slept on the little couch in Kurt’s room, eventually moving to Kurt’s bed and snuggling up behind him because at 2:26 AM Kurt asked him to.
And he stayed by Kurt’s side, always. Because although Kurt was strong–so, so strong–he wasn’t invincible.
omg you guys maia’s middle name is mountain. maia’s full name is maia mountain. I feel like she should be this eco friendly cartoon character frolicking through the forest who talks to plants and animals and shit and has a pet squirrel named appalachian.