So, I haven't finished my other post-breakup story, and I moved on to this post-breakup story, because this is the actual post-breakup, whereas the other one was written based on the rumors we got even before the season started. I will finish the other one, though, because I was almost done anyway, and (in my own humble opinion) it's a nice alternative to what actually happened on that horrible, horrible real breakup episode. Ignorance WAS bliss.

This one is based on some ideas I've heard going around on Tumblr and Twitter, born from the collective disbelief that Blaine in his right mind would never cheat on Kurt. But what if he wasn't in his right mind? We know Blaine, who had already been through a lot before we were introduced to him in season 2, probably has a lot of unresolved issues. Wouldn't it be nice if the show dealt with them once and for all? But alas! Since we know they won't, I will here.

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and Fox. I'm just using them for my own comfort, thank you.

Above The Wreckage

by HappyValentina

Chapter 1

Blaine tapped his foot on the floor nervously and played with the zipper of his bag. Anything to distract him from what he was about to do.

He didn't like hospitals or clinics or anything to do with doctors. He was aware that a therapist was not the same as most doctors, that there was nothing gory about a visit to a therapist, but somehow that made him even more nervous. After all, he had never been to therapy before. He had no idea what to expect.

He had to give it a shot, though. He knew it, the moment he stepped into Miss Pillsbury's office, looking for advice; he'd suddenly had a vivid flashback to the last time he had been there, with Kurt, doing "couple's therapy". Before he could actually say anything, he had just started crying, his body racked with sobs, until he was out of breath. Miss Pillsbury had hugged him and waited for him to calm down, and she had written him a note so he could go home early.

He figured she must have some idea of what was bothering him, because the next day, she called him into her office and handed him a card, without asking any questions or offering much information.

Dr. Nina Franco, Psychotherapist, LGBT Youth Counseling.

It had only taken him a day to make the decision on his own to make an appointment. The least he could do is try.

Convincing his parents had taken a bit longer. He had been rather vague on the real reason why he wanted professional counseling, merely telling them that he was having trouble adjusting to McKinley now that Kurt and half of his friends had graduated. His mother, at least, had been quite receptive, and between the two, they managed to talk his father into it.

It's not that it was expensive; in fact, it was quite affordable. But Blaine knew his parents, especially his father, often felt that 'counseling' meant 'something wrong'. And they usually preferred to act like there was nothing wrong, even when there was.

Blaine himself was no stranger to that attitude.

"Dr. Franco is ready to see you, Blaine," a young, cute secretary said, poking her head into the waiting room where he sat. Blaine swallowed hard and nodded, before getting up and following her.

The secretary led him down a narrow hallway, past the offices of other kinds of counselors and therapists, to the penultimate door. She opened it and let him in.

Dr. Nina Franco was an petite young woman with soft brown curls and green eyes. She was as fair-skinned as Kurt, with freckles on her nose. Overall, she looked quite young, but an impressive set of diplomas hanging on the wall behind her desk spelled out 'well-learned'.

She stood up quickly from behind her desk, putting down a mug of tea, and held a hand toward him.

"Hello, Blaine. Welcome, I'm glad you decided to come."

"Um, nice to meet you," Blaine replied, shaking her hand, a little puzzled. "Why wouldn't I come? I made the appointment after all."

"Well, you sounded a little bit hesitant over the phone."

"Oh," he said, blushing slightly. "That was you? I thought I was speaking to a receptionist."

"She was sick last week, so I had to be my own receptionist. Have a seat," she was all smiles as she pointed Blaine to the chair across from her. He obeyed, glancing around nervously. The place was small but nice, and he already liked Dr. Franco, she seemed genuinely friendly, not just doctor-friendly. He just couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy.

"I'm just going to pull up your file here, and then we can get to the actual appointment," she said, tapping away on her keyboard. "Sorry, it's a bit slow. Coffee? Tea? Water?"

"Um, I'm fine, thanks."

She drank the rest of her tea and put the mug beside a picture frame on the table behind her. Blaine's eyes landed on the picture of a young man and the doctor herself, skiing on a snowy mountain.

"Is that you?"

"Yes, that's me and my fiancee," she said brightly. Blaine's eyes widened a little.

"Oh. I... I thought... never mind."

Dr. Franco smiled again. "You thought I was gay. That's perfectly okay. I'm an LGBT counselor, I guess most people would assume that I might be a gay as well."

"Um, yeah, sorry."

"I don't mind. Wouldn't be in this profession if I did," she chuckled slightly. "Come, let's sit over here."

She led him to the opposite corner of the room. It was nothing like he imagined a therapist's office to be. He had expected the cliched dark leather divan where the patient would lie and talk to the ceiling. Instead, it was more like a regular, homey living room, with end tables and lamps and books and a flower vase and framed pictures. There was a comfy-looking couch, an armchair, and a papasan chair.

"I've never been to therapy before," Blaine admitted sheepishly as he sat on one end of the couch. Dr. Franco picked the armchair.

"I know you may have some preconceptions, but I promise you, no one's judging you, this is a safe environment. You should also know that there's absolutely nothing wrong with seeking professional help. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Blaine felt his mouth go dry, suddenly wishing he had accepted the glass of water. "Yeah, I just don't know how things usually go...?"

"Well, how I usually do it is, on the first session, I like for us to get to know each other. Okay?"

Blaine shrugged and smiled awkwardly. Dr. Franco nodded.

"I'll even start. As you already know, my name is Nina Franco. I'm 29 years old, I lived here all my life, except for the time I was enrolled in University of Cincinnati. I moved back here when I graduated, and then my boyfriend also graduated and got a job here. I set up an office here and started practice.

"I decided to become an LGBT counselor for my sister. Back when I started college, my sister, who was 15 at the time, came out to us. Our family and friends were fine with it, but every else wasn't quite. She had a lot of trouble at school; kids said and did horrible things to her. And, because she had always been very reserved, she just kept it all bottled up inside. Until one day, only a year later, she couldn't take it anymore, and she committed suicide."

Blaine's mouth fell open in disbelief, as Dr. Franco's story progressed. Her face also became more somber as she continued.

"It was very heavy, I couldn't understand why she would do something like that. I spoke to her all the time, and she never revealed how awful things were, how awful she felt. And I just kept thinking that I could've reached out to her more. That maybe then she would still be here."

She smiled again. "So I decided to focus on counseling for LGBT youth, so that other gay teens don't have to go through the same thing that my sister did. Everyone, at one point or another, needs someone to listen to them and support them."

Blaine nodded slowly, wondering how Dr. Franco could still smile like that, even after what she had just told him. He suddenly remembered the heartbreak he felt when he met Kurt, and this beautiful broken boy was crying quietly as he told him about being invisible in school.

"I'm very sorry about your sister," he said quietly, his voice thick.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, you tell me a little about yourself."

Blaine took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He slid his hands over his pants, nervously wiping off his sweaty palms. "Okay, well... my name is Blaine Anderson, I'm 18, I've lived here my whole life too. I'm in my senior year in high school. Um, I came out when I was fourteen. My parents weren't exactly thrilled. I mean, mostly my dad wasn't thrilled. But they've gotten used to it, I guess. Most of the time it feels like they just don't know how to act around me."

He paused, looking up at Dr. Franco to see if she wanted to interject with a question. She wasn't even taking notes; she just watched him as he talked, nodding her head minutely.

"Uh... I have one brother, Cooper, he's eight years older than me, and he's an actor. He lives in L.A., so I don't really see him that often. Um, I'm in Glee club. I just got elected Senior Class President. And I like sports, although I don't practice any right now. And... that's about it."

Dr. Franco nodded approvingly. "I was in Glee club too," she quipped. "For only a year, though, then on my senior year I joined the writer's club, and I got really into it, and I forgot all about Glee. I wish I hadn't, though. I felt it really helped me become more outgoing. Even though everyone regarded us as the losers in the school," she chuckled. "I didn't care. It was fun."

"Yes, it is," Blaine nodded. She leaned back on her chair.

"Okay, well, now that we've both introduced ourselves, I think we can ask each other questions, get to know each other a little bit better. You can start."

Blaine scratched his shoulder absently. "Oh, okay. Um... when are you getting married?"

Dr. Franco's eyes lit up. "Hopefully next year. We have yet to set an actual date. And between you and me, we're kind of masters of procrastination, so..." she trailed off, making a face. "My turn. What do you want to do when you graduate?"

"Well, I wanted to go to New York and get into performing arts. There's this school called NYADA, I don't know if you've heard of it, but it's the best school for anyone who dreams of being in Broadway."

He thought it was best to lie, since he suddenly had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

"That's great. I hope you get in," Dr. Franco smiled, impressed.

Blaine looked around aimlessly. Dr. Franco leaned forward on her chair.

"So, how are you feeling so far? Feel comfortable? Are you okay with the dynamics?"

Blaine shrugged.

"We can always adjust how we approach things. Mostly, what I do with a lot of the people who come here is, I listen to them. Sometimes that's all anyone needs, someone to listen. Especially young people discovering their sexuality or dealing with abuse or neglect because of it. They want a safe environment to speak their minds." She clasped her hands on top of her lap. "So, what I thought we could do is meet twice a week, you pick the days, and we'll work out the hours as soon as I check my schedule. We can meet for an hour each day, and you talk about anything you want. You can tell me if there is something that has been concerning you, if you have a specific problem, and we can deal with it directly. But I usually like to know a lot more about the person, because sometimes we come across issues that the person didn't know they had, and we can work them out as we go. But you can tell me your life story, you can tell me about your dreams, your fears, your secrets, anything. And somewhere along the way, hopefully, you will feel that you have found what you came looking for."

Blaine nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the coffee table in front of him, lips pressed.

"What do you say?"

"Okay," he said in a low voice.

"So... is there a particular reason why you decided to seek counseling?"

Blaine felt the words, like a trigger, releasing a flood of all the things that he didn't want to think about. All the things that had kept him well awake the past week, since his visit to New York.

"I screwed everything up with the love of my life. And I hate myself for it."

He took a deep breath, but his breath hitched suddenly and he let out a sob. His hands automatically went up to cover his face as he started crying.

He felt a tap on his wrist. Dr. Franco was offering him a tissue box. He took one quickly and wiped his face and nose.

"I'm sorry," he blubbered.

"No, don't be. It's okay," she smiled sympathetically. "You know, the first step toward fixing a problem is admitting that there's something wrong." She winked reassuringly at him. "We're already making progress."

Chapter one done. About four more to go.

I hope everyone likes where this is going.

I haven't actually ever been to therapy, let alone LGBT counseling. But I have been cheated on. I think I'm just being a bit cathartic here. Bear with me.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.

-Vale