Anotherrrr headcanon from On My Way

Trigger Warnings again: thoughts of suicide, almost suicide, etc.

This one takes place during Cough Syrup.

So...BLANGST

As soon as the bell rang, Blaine quickly stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He walked out of the room, not even sparing a second glance at Kurt before he all but ran to the auditorium. It was all becoming a little too much, and he had to just do something to get it all out.

He paced on the stage, wringing his hands between him, punching his palms lightly, thinking about everything and nothing and how different his life was and how far he'd actually come in a year's time.

"You okay?"

Blaine turned to see Kurt walking towards him, his face concerned as he came nearer. Blaine glanced at him and shrugged a bit.

"You seemed upset."

Blaine looked away and continued his pacing.

"You know, Sebastian –"

Blaine turned to Kurt then, willing himself to not take his frustration out on his boyfriend who had been nothing but sweet to him.

"Forget about Sebastian," Blaine said, his voice rising a little. He paused to take a deep breath, regaining what little control that he had left. He saw Kurt's taken aback look, a little shocked that Blaine had sort of lashed out at him. "I'm not mad at you," Blaine told him after a moment, his voice softer than before. "I just don't want to waste any more time on him."

Kurt nodded slightly, Blaine fixing him with a serious look.

"I want to focus on winning," he said. "I've got a new song I want to try out," he went on, smiling a little at Kurt. "The theme for Regionals is inspiration. I think this fits the bill."

Kurt looked up at him from under his eyelashes, giving Blaine a small smile.

"You wanna hear it?"

Kurt nodded and pulled a stool out from the side of the stage, propping himself up on it as Blaine gave the sheet music to the band and pulled a microphone to the front, just in the right spot so that Kurt had a proper view of Blaine.

Blaine started to sing.

Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control

The lyrics of the song hadn't really hit him when he was looking at them. They'd just stuck out as inspirational and strong-willed.

But, standing there singing them, Blaine knew why he had picked them, even though he hadn't been consciously aware of it.

These fishes in the sea they're staring at me oh oh
Oh oh oh oh
A wet world aches for a beat of a drum
Oh

He remembered back to the days when he'd held the pill bottles in his hands, sitting on his bathroom floor in his solo dorm room at Dalton, sifting through his options in his head. How people would react, what they would say, who would find him, if anyone would even notice, how long it would take someone to find his body.

Or the times when he'd stood in his shower with his razor hovering above his wrist, staring at it, the hand holding it shaking uncontrollably. He wondered then how much he'd bleed, if it'd be enough to put him out of his misery for good.

Or when he'd go home for the weekend, his father's taunting remarks and careless gestures following him for the entire weekend. He'd then sit on his window ledge with a different bottle of pills in his hand, thinking of how it would be a final spite to his father for him to come up and find Blaine's lifeless body.

If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down

He knew he always put on a good face for his friends. No one knew how bad it actually was for Blaine. No one suspected. He was dapper, well-rounded, respectful, cheerful Blaine. No one knew any different.

Getting beaten up and being held back a year had taken a toll on him, though. He'd had to be separated from all his friends at his old school, then transferring to a new school where he was a year older than everyone in his grade.

Adjusting had been difficult. He'd often sit on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if something was going to come along and make him want to keep living.

But he never found it in him to actually carry out his plans. He'd always stop, finding one excuse or another to live another day.

Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm coming up now coming up now out of the blue

His freshman year at Dalton had come and gone, and before Blaine knew it he was back in his dorm room as a sophomore, his situation no better than it had been the year before.

Summer never helped. Spending months upon months in the same house as his dad hadn't done anything for Blaine, sometimes thinking that in itself was reason enough to end it all right there.

But he somehow pulled through, returning to Dalton at the end of August for what was possibly another year.

These zombies in the park they're looking for my heart
Oh oh oh oh
A dark world aches for a splash of the sun oh oh

It was sometime in November when Blaine finally decided he'd had enough.

He was sitting on his bed, staring at his pile of homework on his desk, the books spewing out of his backpack, his phone clutched in one hand and a bottle of pills clasped in the other.

He stared at his phone, how his most recent call was from his dad. He'd called Blaine to tell him he was disappointed in him, that his grades weren't good enough for it only being the third month of school, how if he didn't get them up he'd have to quite the Warblers.

He remembered, almost too vividly, how he'd set his phone down and opened the pill bottle, pouring the contents into his hand and stared at them.

The Warblers were having an impromptu performance that day, as a sort of celebratory act for their new lead soloist, Blaine Anderson.

They were singing Teenage Dream, per Blaine's request. They'd been rehearsing it for the past week, perfecting it and making sure that having Blaine as a soloist worked with their backing vocals.

If he was going to end it all, he might as well give one last performance, if not for himself, then for the Warblers.

If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now

He slowly put the pills back int the bottle and replaced the cap, setting them on his nightstand so he could conveniently get to them later.

He remembered shoving his pocket watch into his blazer pocket before rushing out of the room, knowing that he was going to be late since he'd spent the last fifteen minutes sitting on his bed.

He rushed down the main staircase, pulling his watch out to check the time and see if he could make it in time.

And so I run now to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down

There was a tap on his shoulder, a soft, confused voice saying "Excuse me."

He recalled slowly turning around, not knowing what to expect. But it definitely wasn't to see a beautiful boy standing behind him, clearly not a student with his simple red tie and black suit jacket as a lame attempt of trying to fit in.

"I'm Blaine," he said as he stuck out his hand, smiling. He didn't know where the smile had come from, but it was true and genuine, unlike the fake ones he'd been plastering to his face for the past two years.

"Kurt," he boy replied, shaking his hand.

Life's too short to even care at all oh
I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control

If I could find a way to see this straight
I'd run away
To some fortune that I should have found by now

He'd grabbed Kurt's hand and ran down a deserted hallway, into the room where he knew the Warblers were giving their impromptu performance. He smiled at the boy, adjusted the lapel of his collar, said something witty and clever that to this day he still couldn't remember, and gave him a wink before walking off and joining the cluster of Warblers.

And he'd sung to Kurt with more emotion than he had before. He could tell that there was more to the boy, something that made Blaine want to reach out to him, to help him, to comfort him.

So I run now to the things they said could restore me
Restore life the way it should be
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down

That evening, after Kurt had left and their coffee cups had been thrown away, Blaine put the pills back into his medicine cabinet. He shoved his razor into a drawer and just looked at himself in the mirror.

Maybe it wasn't his time to go, he remembered thinking. Maybe he now had something worth living for.

One more spoon of cough syrup now
One more spoon of cough syrup now
One more spoon of cough syrup now

Blaine stilled the microphone, his breathing heavy as he shut his eyes, the flashbacks and memories the song had brought on still haunting him.

He vaguely heard Kurt walking over to him, the gentle, soft arms winding around his waist and pulling him close.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" Kurt murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine's neck.

"That song…" Blaine murmured, his eyes still closed as his mind was plagued with his past. "It just brought back some…memories."

"Mmm," Kurt hummed against his neck. "I'm assuming they weren't good ones, if your distraught look and tense muscles are any sort of giveaway."

Blaine chuckled softly and turned around so that he was facing Kurt, staring into his bright blue eyes as they looked up at him, Kurt still planting tender kisses to Blaine's neck. "I almost killed myself, you know," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Kurt's mouth on his neck stilled, instantly bringing his head up to stare directly at Blaine. "Blaine –" Kurt started, but Blaine shook his head.

"For almost two years," Blaine whispered. "I would sit there and just…think about it. I'd hold the razor in my hand, or I'd open the pill bottle, but I never went through with it."

He could see Kurt's eyes welling with tears, his hands gripping Blaine's own tighter, as if afraid he'd vanish if he were to let go.

"And then one day," Blaine went on, a distant look coming into his eyes. "I was late for a Warblers performance. I'd just gotten off the phone with my dad, and I opened the pill bottle and poured them into my hand."

Kurt was shaking now. Blaine moved one hand to grip his waist tightly, pulling him into his body.

"But then I thought that I should go and sing my first solo for the Warblers," he murmured. "So I put the pills away and walked down the staircase."

Blaine paused, looking at Kurt, whose eyes were filled with confusion, just a hint of something in them that Blaine knew he was aware of what he was going to say next.

"And then this boy tapped me on the shoulder," he whispered. "And gave me something worth living for. He gave me a reason to fight."

Kurt buried his head in Blaine's shoulder then, gripping his sweater tightly in his hands and just letting it out. Blaine gripped him tightly, supporting his weight once Kurt's knees began to buckle.

As he held Kurt, he became aware of two things.

He had saved Kurt. Kurt was headed for a downward spiral similar to Blaine's, Blaine realizing it right away and taking his wellbeing into his own hands, making sure that Kurt was in a better place than he was.

But Kurt had also saved Blaine. He may not have known it until that moment, but he had.

Kurt was there, in Blaine's arms, because of Blaine.

And Blaine was there, wrapped around Kurt, because of Kurt.

They were there because of each other, and now that they knew, it only made them that much stronger.

I need to stop torturing Blaine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee and Cough Syrup belongs to whoever it was that sang it first

Review? :) I feel awful about torturing Blaine again omg.