#i couldnt resist adding that last one its exactly how i feel about the show

[crookedcorpse]

…LECTER’S LIKENESS SHOULD BE THE DARK PORTRAIT OF A RENAISSANCE PRINCE.

a collection inspired by the chesapeake ripper. man in blue, francis bacon. studio wall, adolph menzel. the count of monte cristo, mead schaeffer. paolo and francesca da rimini in hell, henri martin. flight of the reindeer (detail), victoria reynolds.

bonus:

saturday evening post, james r bingham.

[sariasprincy-writes]

Hollow Point 23

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three (here) 

Chapter Twenty-Three The longest road to nowhere…

“You’re sure about this?” Kakashi asked not for the first time.

Sakura didn’t bother him with a glance. She merely studied the bullet between her fingers, feeling its weight in her hands, the brass warm from her own body heat.

“We could always tie him to a cement block, drop him over the side of the pier. No one would ever find his body,” Kakashi said.

“No,” she said, loading the shot into the magazine with the rest before she jammed it into his rifle. “I want him executed. Publicly. This is a reminder to all my clients what will become of them if they try and betray me. Just like Kabuto did.”

Beside her, Kakashi said nothing. Like he knew there was no longer any point in trying to convince her otherwise.

Around them, the wind continued to blow. Up where they crouched on the roof, it was colder than down on the street, but it gave them a better view, a better vantage point to the shipping yard below. Kabuto’s men wandered between the large, storage containers. From here, they looked like little ants in a maze but through the scope, Sakura could make out each individual face. None were Kabuto’s.

“You’re sure he’s still here?” Sakura asked after a minute.

Kakashi nodded beside her, a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes. “Give him a minute. He’ll show himself.”

Sure enough, only a few minutes later Kabuto appeared. His hands were deep in the pockets of his jacket, his collar turned up against the chilling breeze. The setting sun cast a long shadow out behind him, causing his scrawny figure appear even more lanky. A cigarette smoldered between his teeth, making his mouth and nose glow faintly.

That familiar rage simmered deep in Sakura’s chest. Just waiting to pounce like an angered jaguar in a cage, wanting to be released so it could skin its claws in. She zeroed him in on her sites, her finger putting the faintest pressure on the trigger. 

Only to relax a moment later.

Instead, she fished her phone out of her pocket and set it on speaker on the ledge beside her before she dialed. She only had to wait two rings before he answered.

“Where the hell are you?” Kabuto demanded through the headphone in his ear.

Sakura merely chuckled. “I’m sorry, Kabuto, but you won’t be meeting your contact tonight.”

Through the scope, she saw him freeze, his body going absolutely still as he recognized her voice. “Tsunade…”

“What? Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” she asked, her voice light. Almost playful.

Even from here, she could see the way he pinched his cigarette between his teeth until he nearly cut it in half. He swallowed thickly, but didn’t reply.

It didn’t matter. She continued nonetheless. “You made a deal with me. And then you went and turned against me. You should know by now I’m the grudge-holding type.”

“It-it was a misunderstanding,” he stuttered. “I can explain.”

Sakura resisted the urge to sigh. “You see, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re a big talker, Kabuto, but you’re nothing special. Just a little street rat. When you die, someone will just fill your place. As if you had never been here at all. And I’m done listening to your excuses.”

The moment the last word left her mouth, Sakura pulled the trigger. The first shot went through his shoulder, the round so powerful that it knocked him right off his feet. He hit the ground hard. Through the phone, she could hear his ragged breathing as it came out in short, pained gasps. He raised a shaking hand to his shoulder, only for his fingers to come away deep red with blotches of darker spots. Bloody tissue and clots. Behind her scope, Sakura smirked. She would never forget the look of pain and utter terror etched into his expression.

Around him, Kabuto’s men screamed and shouted as they ran for cover. None stopped to help the boss they had pledged their loyalty to. He would die there, alone and abandoned.

“There is one more thing you can do for me, Kabuto,” Sakura continued, as if she hadn’t just put a bullet through him.

Kabuto didn’t respond but she knew he was listening. The headphone was still in his ear.

“I want you to keep that terrified look on your face as the life drains out of your eyes. Do try not to disappoint.”

Then she hung up. Even from here, she could see the pure, honest fear in his eyes as he tried to pull himself up and drag himself to cover. Dark, twisted satisfaction rippled through her but it paled in comparison to when she fired the next shot.

Kabuto fell still and didn’t move again. Through her scope, Sakura watched the blood pool around his head before it spilled down the concrete. Nearby, his glasses lay abandoned, one of the lenses cracked and reflecting the light in fractured waves.

None of Kabuto’s men were out in the open. Those that hadn’t run away were ducked inside the shadows. Sakura didn’t pay them any mind. She did what she had come to do.

“You’re sure the police won’t be a problem?” she asked Kakashi as an afterthought.

He shook his head. “The bullets are untraceable. And the workers for this yard are on strike. Either Kabuto’s men will clean up the mess or his body will be found when the employees return to the yard. At which point, the trail will be long cold.”

Sakura hummed indifferently. She gazed at the yard below as a few of the men made a break for escape before she turned away. Her face indifferent. As if she hadn’t just taken a man’s life only moments before.

Kakashi stared at her but said nothing more. He merely packed up the rifle before they headed down to the parking garage where he had left his car. They were nearly at the state border before he spoke again, “You’re quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”

Sakura drew her gaze from the window to glance at him. She met his eye for a moment before his attention returned to the road. A long sigh passed between her lips. “I spoke with Temari this morning. She found that the port downtown is under the control of Madara.”

“Madara?” Kakashi repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But Akatsuki is using it to move product.”

Sakura said nothing when he glanced at her. Merely waited for him to put the pieces together. When he did, he almost forgot to stop at the coming red-light. “Madara is working with Akatsuki?” he asked after nearly slamming the car to a stop. His voice was full of obvious disbelief.

She nodded. “Which means we need to tread carefully. Very carefully.”

“Are you going to tell your CIA buddy?” Kakashi asked.

Sakura didn’t immediately offer him an answer. Her mind wandering back to that night in her condo only a few days ago when Itachi had wrapped himself around her. She had been so vulnerable then. She couldn’t let that happen again. She wouldn’t. Things were already complicated enough without adding emotion into the equation.

Blinking, Sakura jerked herself back to the present. “Yeah. They’re better equipped to take Madara down. We won’t suffer any losses by letting them take the lead on this one.”

“When are you going to call them?”

“Tonight,” she said. “I’ll go with my contact to the port tomorrow and then hopefully from there his company can track Madara and take him down.”

Kakashi nodded, turning down a dark side street where they had left her car. “Has Naruto told you anything new?”

Frowning, Sakura shook her head. “I texted him but I haven’t gotten a reply yet.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Pursing her lips, Sakura considered her answer. Recalled the last time he had asked her this very question and the consequences that had occurred when she said no.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can always use your eyes.”

Kakashi smiled in response, the look just a little forced in the corners of his mouth. Like he was remembering it too.

She smiled back comfortingly before she finally climbed out his car to head for her own. Only once she was back in her apartment did she finally text Itachi. Just like she always did: a time and a location. And an unsaid expectation that he would be there.

xx

The following night, Itachi arrived exactly on time. Sakura heard him before she saw him, the soft rumble of the car engine echoing faintly against the concrete walls of the parking garage. This time of night, only a few cars remained, though they all lay dormant on the lower levels.

Leaning against the trunk of her car, Sakura picked her head up when headlights began to cut through the stone, support pillars. She didn’t move. Merely tracked that familiar Lexus with her eyes as it rolled past the empty stalls and pulled into a slot across the way from her.

Itachi killed the engine before he slipped out of the car, his footsteps echoing faintly as he crossed the short distance to approach her. Sakura simply watched him as he glanced one way down the garage and then the other.

He wore a pair of dark jeans with a grey shirt under his black jacket. The look was casual, but somehow undeniably sexy. She wondered if he even realized how handsome he truly was. And then she shook the thought away immediately as she reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be thinking these things. The voice in the back of her head quietly whispered that she was still allowed to look.

When Itachi finally stopped before her, his eyes raked down her form. Only the small tug in the corner of his mouth was his give away. She simply met his gaze evenly.

“I’m fine,” she told him.

His gaze lingered on the blotchy, purple marks around her wrist before they fell to her face. “Are you?”

The memory of Kabuto’s face before she shot a bullet through it crossed her mind. It was then that she finally gave him a small smile. “Yes.”

If Itachi knew what that meant, he spoke nothing of it. But the ridged set of his shoulders did relax as he peered absently about the garage again. “Interesting place for a midnight rendezvous. What did you want to meet for then?”

He asked the question like he knew she had a purpose. That she wasn’t interested in talking about that night she had kissed him. She wondered for a brief moment if perhaps he knew her better than she liked. But Sakura didn’t give that much more thought. Because she did have a reason for speaking with him and she might as well cut to the chase.

“Madara is working for Akatsuki.”

Itachi nodded. “Yes, I know.”

Surprise rippled through Sakura like a bolt of lightning. She straightened from her car as she fixed him with a hard stare. “What do you mean ‘you know’?”

To her surprise, Itachi simply tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “You got us a copy of Madara’s phone, remember? We dug through some of his old messages and found some warning someone against a raid Hashirama’s men were planning in Newark. The one you told me about.”

“And were you planning to tell me about Madara?”

A strange expression crossed Itachi’s face then, as if he was actually offended by her question. “Of course. We only found out yesterday morning.”

Which was about when Sakura had learned the truth too. Her glare lasted a moment longer before it finally faded.

“So, what is the CIA going to do?” she asked.

“They want more intel. My company will not act until they are sure they can bring Madara down,” he told her. “We have had too many close calls, too many misses to just move in without knowing his next moves.”

Sakura frowned but didn’t voice her complaint. She couldn’t entirely blame the CIA for not jumping into action. She was just as aware as Itachi of how smart Madara really was. If they so much as misstepped even once, he would be long out of their reach before they could recover. And who knows when their next opportunity would be.

“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing I know what Madara’s planning next.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed in confusion only for understanding to dawn on him a moment later. “The port.”

Her answer was a cunning smile.

xx

They took Sakura’s car to old town. Just a cheap but clean, little Honda she had borrowed from downtown earlier that day. It blended in with the rest of the rusting cars in the lot. She parked at the base of a building that overlooked the entire warehouse by the river before she led the way to the stairs that would take them to the roof.

Neither of them spoke as they climbed, but one check from her phone told her two things: the first was that Kakashi was in position at another abandoned building nearby and the second was that she still hadn’t heard from Naruto. Not the first time the blond had been slow to reply, but just as annoying.

On the top floor, both she and Itachi pulled out binoculars. For a few minutes they said nothing. Merely perched shoulder-to-shoulder as they observed the activity below, their breath turning a soft white and mingling together in the wind.

“Judging from Madara’s messages, I get the feeling he has been here awhile,” Itachi eventually said.

“At least six months,” Sakura replied, watching the men move about in the dark below. This time of night, they were only shadows, but there was just enough lighting to see them hauling and organizing crates. Her eyes narrowed. “And it looks like they just got a new shipment.”

She felt Itachi glance at her briefly. “Does that mean something?”

“Only that Madara was lying when he told Hashirama that Akatsuki had temporarily gone underground.”

“So Hashirama isn’t connected to Akatsuki,” he summed.

“No,” Sakura said, lowering her sights. “Madara has definitely betrayed Hashirama. And I assume Izuna has as well, considering he was monitoring the ports in the area in case Akatsuki moved in.”

Itachi set his binoculars down as well but didn’t immediately speak as a thoughtful frown crossed his face. “Hashirama doesn’t know this port exists then?”

“No, I never told him,” Sakura said, returning her gaze back to the movements below. She wondered if the double meaning in his tone was real or just her imagination. “With Madara watching him, he’s too unreliable. I didn’t want Madara moving his operation before we could act.”

Itachi didn’t reply to that as he too resumed his observation of the warehouse. They didn’t speak for a while as they surveyed the activity below, mentally noting anything that seemed of importance.

Eventually Itachi sat back again. “You’ve been watching this port for a while. How much product have they moved?”

“A lot,” she said vaguely. Because she couldn’t give him an accurate estimate until she spoke to Naruto.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Sakura unlocked the screen only to frown when she still found nothing from him. Instead, she shot off a text to Kakashi telling him they would be moving out soon and to find the dumb, blond idiot. Then she pocketed it again.

“I think we need to have a chat with Kisame,” Sakura continued, glancing at Itachi. “He didn’t know about this port so either he’s compromised or Akatsuki is moving in a different direction without his knowledge.”

A deep frown settled in the corners of Itachi’s mouth but he nodded his agreement. “I will contact him shortly and see if he can meet. Here. In New York.”

They packed up after that, ensuring they left no trace that they had ever been there. Sakura drove them towards the city as Itachi texted on his phone. The ride was quiet but comfortable, say for the soft, little ‘pings’ from his cell as he sent out messages. She wondered if he was texting his company or Kisame but didn’t ask. Merely navigated the roads in silence.

Eventually Itachi pocketed his phone. He peered out the window before he glanced at her. “What are your next moves?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she told him honestly. “I need more information.”

“On the port?”

“The port, Madara, Akatsuki, Kisame,” she listed. “There’s too many open ends for me to decide how to move forward yet.”

“But you will move forward?”

Sakura took her eyes off the road briefly to flash Itachi a confused glance. She caught a strange look on his face before her eyes turned forward once more. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I just get the feeling Madara is more of an inconvenience to you than a problem.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked flatly, not liking the direction this conversation was suddenly going.

If he read the tone in her voice, he didn’t back down. “No.” When she didn’t reply, he continued, “I think you don’t care if he lives or dies. As long as he is out of the way.”

“Well, what about you?” she redirected with a quick glance in his direction. “You still haven’t told me why the CIA is after him.”

Itachi shrugged. “Madara is a traitor to the company. The CIA doesn’t really need much more reason than that.”

They lapsed into silence for a few blocks after that. Sakura still didn’t think Itachi was telling the truth but she wasn’t in the mood to press for more. She doubted he would tell her anyway. And she didn’t want to risk having Itachi turn the conversation around on her. She couldn’t tell anyone of her true objective. Even Kakashi didn’t know about it. Still, it weighed on her mind. Already she could feel the time closing in on when she would have to act.

“Madara’s death is simply a means to another end,” she eventually said, her voice barely above a murmur.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Itachi look at her. “So, you have another purpose here in New York than Akatsuki?”

“You’re asking rather a lot of questions tonight. Are you playing bad cop right now?” she asked playfully. Because it was the easiest way to redirect the conversation. Still, there was an edge of seriousness in her tone. A warning to not press too far.

Sakura drew to a stop at the next red light and peered at Itachi to find he was now smiling, as if he too recalled the events in that interrogation room in Tel Aviv. It wasn’t too obvious. Just a little pull in the corners of his mouth.

The look was utterly adorable. She forced herself to turn away. Both trying to hide her own smile and to stomp down the feeling in her chest. She reminded herself that night in her condo was a one-time thing. An impulse after a rough day. Still, that feeling lingered like the heat on one’s skin after a warm bath.

At least until she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw two police cars behind her.

Like a light switch, her entire demeanor changed. Her smile gone as was the warmth in her chest. And in its place cold began to set in.

Itachi noticed the change immediately. He peered in the side mirror, not understand. “What is it?” he asked.

“This is a stolen car,” she said, her voice calmer than she felt.

He turned to her abruptly. “Why the hell would you take a stolen car?”

“I needed something that would blend in. Something that Madara’s men wouldn’t take a second look if they saw us.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth. Whether to scold her or curse, she didn’t know. In the end, he did neither. He simply inhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?”

“That depends. Can you use your CIA immunity to get us out of this?”

His answer was clearly written on his face. They were on their own. She didn’t know exactly how the CIA operated in situations like these, but she didn’t ask. They didn’t have time for the details.

Without a word, Sakura turned her sights forward, her mind racing through the options. The light was still red but it wouldn’t be for much longer. As soon as she started to move, she was certain the police would hit their lights. There were still only two cars behind her, but she could already see a third coming towards them.

Like water trickling into pool with no exits, Sakura felt her body begin to fill with quiet adrenaline. Mentally she planned her escape route.

Forward was the fastest way to the highway, but she couldn’t go that way. The police were expecting her to head that direction. She’d have to try and outrun them through Old Town. It was a good thing she knew these streets. And that the police cars were Crown Vics. They didn’t handle nearly as well as the newer cars.

“I’m going to run,” Sakura eventually said, her voice quiet as if the officers in the car behind her could hear.

Itachi stared at her. He looked like he wanted to argue, but said nothing before he withdrew his phone from his pocket. She didn’t pay him any more mind as the streetlight turned green.

Like a bullet, Sakura shifted into gear and hit the gas. From the center lane, she took a hard left, cutting across the oncoming lanes. Though, this time of night, they were all empty.

Just as she anticipated, the police cars hit their lights and sirens as they gave chase. Her entire body thrummed with energy as she sped through the otherwise quiet streets. On either side of her, the buildings flew by, red and blue lights flickering off the cold, pale stone. Her grip around the wheel was tight and her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes constantly flickered to the mirror.

To her frustration, the police kept up with her. Two cars turning into three and then five, and she was sure there were more on their way. It was a serious crime to steal a car. Even worse given the fact that she was armed. Itachi undoubtedly was too.

“Wake up, I have a situation,” Itachi suddenly said in the passenger seat.

Confused, Sakura briefly glanced at him, only for her brows to furrow when she saw he was on the phone. She didn’t know what he was doing and she didn’t ask as her attention returned to the road. She took a hard turn right and then a left, cutting strategically between two, old warehouses, the alley between them barely big enough for the small Honda.

When they popped out the other side, she could already see a couple of approaching cars, their flashing lights closer than she had hoped.

“Shit,” she cursed lowly as she turned the opposite direction, her foot slamming the gas pedal.

“I’m on Broadway and…” Itachi trailed off as he squinted at the street sign as they blew through the next intersection. “43rd.  At least six units. Where are they coming from?”

Sakura half-listened as she drove, weaving through the dead streets. The closest cruiser was almost a block behind, but their engines were faster. They would catch up soon.

“Take the next right,” Itachi told her.

She didn’t question him. Simply slammed the brakes as she turned the car nearly ninety degrees to catch the turn. Whoever Itachi was talking to seemed to know what they were doing. It quickly crossed her mind that the other person could probably hear their scanners, but she didn’t ask.

Itachi told her to take another right and then a left. Down five blocks before turning again.

They were gaining some distance, but unless they lost the police completely, they wouldn’t get away even on the highway. State Patrol was likely already alerted.

A few blocks later, Sakura saw her opportunity. On the other side of the overpass, there was what appeared to be an abandoned chop shop. The long-forgotten building sat dark with peeling paint and broken windows. Beside it, old cars were piled in the small lot, parked together around chunks of old, rusted parts.

Killing her lights, Sakura went around the block before quickly circling back to it. She slipped into a narrow space between two rusted minivans, going so fast the brakes nearly didn’t stop them in time from slamming into the back of a car parked on the other side. Then she threw the car into park and killed the engine in the same second before both she and Itachi ducked down.

A breath later, they heard the scream of sirens as police cars sped down the road behind them, their lights flickering through the windows and bouncing around the roof of the Honda.

Neither of them dared to move. They barely dared to breath as they hunkered there. Sakura’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might rip out of her chest, the blood roaring in her ears loud enough that she had to strain to hear the sirens.

Only once she was certain she could no longer hear those familiar sirens did she slowly sit up again. Itachi did the same, the screen of his phone pressed to his chest to hide the faint glow.

When he was certain they were alone, he pressed the device to his ear. “We’re clear,” he said before he hung up.

Neither of them spoke as the silence stretched on. Sakura peered into the rearview mirror, checking for certain they had got away before she finally glanced at Itachi. Only to find he was already looking at her, some unnamable expression on his face.

Sakura wasn’t sure who moved first. All she knew was that in one moment she was sitting there staring at him and in the next, their mouths had found each other. There was nothing sweet or shy about this kiss. It was all tongues and gentle teeth and passion.

Somehow, she found her way over the center console and in his lap, the cramped quarters pressing their bodies flush together. Her knees on either side of him, his hips pressed against the inside of her thighs.

Sakura knew how dangerous adrenaline crashes were. To be so high only for nothing to come of it. They could make one think they were invincible. Take a bullet without any pain or consequence. Start a fight one couldn’t possibly win. Make decisions they wouldn’t normally make.

But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was Itachi’s hands were on her. Under her shirt, on her skin. His warm touch set her body on fire.

She tugged him closer, slanting her mouth against his. Letting him give and take as much as she did. He groaned low in his throat when her own hands found their way under the hem of his shirt. Itachi was of lean stature, but she felt nothing but muscle under her fingertips. Her hands smoothing over the firm ridges of his stomach before moving over his ribs where his shoulder holster kept his gun secured.

Sakura thought nothing of the weapon now. She didn’t even think of her own as his hand slipped over the one on her hip to grab her thigh just under her ass to pull her closer. A soft gasp escaped her at the sudden pressure, but there were too many clothes, too many barriers, and she pulled away just far enough to drag his jacket off his shoulders.

In the confined space of the passenger seat, it took a bit of struggling to get it off, but once it was, his hands returned to her, slipping her own jacket down her arms before tossing it aside. One of the sleeves landed on the center-console, the rest fell on the driver’s seat, forgotten.

Somewhere, so far in the back of her mind in nearly didn’t exist, Sakura knew she shouldn’t be doing this. But she gave it no thought. Only ground against him harder, wanting him around, against and inside her as heat and desire pooled low in her stomach.

If Itachi had any of the same, fleeting thoughts he didn’t show it as his hands gripped her hips, pushing her down harder, her name echoing out in each of his gasps. The simple sound did delicious things to her insides. She kissed him harder, her hands going for his belt.

That’s when Itachi grabbed her wrists. Not hard but with enough force to make her flinch at the old bruises still lingering there. His grip immediately loosened.

“Sakura, wait,” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed hers with each word. “We shouldn’t…”

Sakura pulled back before she went completely still, not sure she understood. She could see the want and lust lingering deep in his onyx eyes, but something else as well. Something that made that little voice in the back of her mind come forward, reminding her of who she was and who he was. She knew he was right. They were just feeling the aftereffects of their adrenaline. Still, she couldn’t help the little sliver of rejection that embedding itself into her chest.

Closing her eyes, Sakura inhaled slowly before letting it out again. When she finally opened them again, she stared past Itachi to see the windows had begun to fog. Maybe that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t so conflicted. So frustrated at stopping, so startled by wanting him so badly in the moment.

Itachi’s grasp on her wrists loosened to hold them gently, almost more of a caress as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. Such a juxtaposition from the hardness she could still feel through his jeans. Where it pressed into her center. Aching and throbbing.

“Not here,” he said against her brow. “Not like this.”

Something Sakura couldn’t quite name swelled in her chest. She didn’t know what to say to that and so she said nothing. Simply met his gaze wordlessly before he maneuvered out from under her and slipped out of the car.

Sakura took that moment alone to gather herself. She inhaled deeply, forcefully stomping the still-smoldering embers of her arousal down, as she smoothed her fingers through her hair. She reached for her jacket as Itachi pulled the driver’s side door open, but didn’t bother putting it on. She still felt hot all over. Like his hands had seared her skin in the places he had touched.

They didn’t speak as Itachi started the engine and pulled out on the main road. Simply let the silence fill the space between them.

to be continued…

[dorigvbcorvis]

THE MILLSTONE

I once heard that there was a cut scene or scripted but not filmed scene in Glee's Goodbye episode (S3E22) that was between Schue and Kurt...I thought anything done would be a retcon because Schue has done a disservice to all choir members not named Rachel or Finn so this little story came to mind. This is not a prequel to my Song to a Siren (AO3) story but has a lot of the same feelings.

Story Summary: The last day of school and Kurt has to unpack years of baggage  before he can literally move on.  Takes place post NYADA rejection letter.

The Millstone

The 2012 school year was over and the last of a programed system of school bells had concluded. Blaine stood in the doorway to the choir room looking at Kurt.  Most days he enjoyed watching Kurt; his boyfriend's slim frame, the stylish clothes Kurt liked to pick out to wear, or how some of those choices showed off his cotch bulge a little too nicely.  Some days it was the way his pale skin seemed to give off its own light...and ah those blue eyes - What Blaine didn't like was finding Kurt like this; frozen in place with a scrolled letter held tightly against his chest.  It was an easy guess to know what the letter said and this wasn't good news. 

Blaine felt he had to say something, he just needed to rustle up the nerve. "Coming?" He asked, finally breaking the silence - his had buried his hands deep inside his pockets for added security: he had no  idea how Kurt would reply or even if he would.

To his surprise Kurt managed to squeak out a mild toned answer. "Yeah, in just a..." Only that this was all that came out - Kurt couldn't finish his sentence and he remained frozen in the same spot where he had been for over an hour.

In Kurt's  mind he imagined that he could take off in any direction and run forever yet he also pictured that he would be only two steps into that run before he would face plant and crumble into pieces - Why couldnt he be more like Finn?  He took not getting into Pace with ease.  Maybe it was Kurt wanted it more.  Maybe it was just that he came to believe it was assured; Madame Tibideaux did like him;  didn't she?

Finn and Rachel had long since left the choir room  - Exactly how long ago Kurt wasn't sure.  He was stuck; as if being in the choir room he would be able to somehow undo the opening of his NYADA letter and maybe then he could go back to feeling how his highly praised audition would be his ticket out of Lima.  But with the rejection letter out of its envelope the apistevist in Kurt could not escape the reality of the facts.  *We regret to inform you* The words were now permanently etched in his mind.  He felt like he did on the morning that Schue & Miss Pillsbury called him out of his French III Class to tell him about his dad.  Yet for all the emotional parallels he now saw - it remained a mystery why the tears had not yet come.  He was stuck; weighted down by everything that had come before.

Kurt wanted to cry - He wanted to scream actually -He wanted to belt it to the school's rafters like one his lung bursting D6s.  This was not how it was supposed to go.   His boyfriend wasn't offering much in the way of concrete help - clearly he must have some idea of what happened or how badly he felt  - Instead he was making some random comment about Breadsticks.

"We should hurry," Blaine said. "They always run out of French-Fried Ice cream if you are not there to order it..."

Blaine immediately thought to walk this all back.  It wasn't that he was an unsympathetic guy - Quite the contrary,  he knew deeply and inexplicably Kurt was his soul mate.  He had simply heard that come rain or shine Breadsticks was where they all would go after they had opened their letters.  Blaine being Blaine this was where his stomach took over.

Now Blaine was a smart guy.  He figured out from Kurt's immobility, ashen face, and his wide eyed stare -  That this was textbook shock.  What he didnt know was what to do about it.  He knew doting on Kurt wasn't an answer - Kurt wasn't a touchy feelie kind of guy.  Likewise  he knew abandoning Kurt was not an option either - It was an impass where it seemed the best plan of action meant waiting for Kurt to make the first move -  but somehow Blaine knew that this couldn't be right. He decided he had to ask

"Kurt, damn, I know it sucks right now - I know it doesn't at all seem fair - what I need to know what I can do to help you."

Kurt answered the question with one of his own   "What didn't I do right?" he said..he needed to know why.

"You said that they only take 20 - maybe you like #21 and only just missed the cut off"

Kurt found this simultaneously the most reassuring thing he could hear and the most upsetting - To be that close.  But this did not explain Rachel.  He could be happy for her if he wasn't so pissed off about it.

"Rachel fucked up and got in - I didn't - Aiso it may cime as a shock but I have done more community theatre than she has." (*Note* It's implied in Mattress/Sectionals and there is also an 'Into the Woods' cast photo on Kurt's season 3 bookshelf)

"Really?" Blaine didn't doubt this but to listen to Rachel it seemed incorrect.

"Yeah, the music director at the playhouse also runs the Sound of Music Sing Along."

"Acting chops," Blaine said with a nod. "explains why you killed it as 'Krupke."

A single tear manage to fall now as Kurt began to recall a memory. "I was a regular until my Freshman year..."

"What happened - If you don't mind me asking?"

"High School jocks happened - They started harassing me first at school - then one day they followed me home.  They put flaming bags of dog shit on my porch hoping that I would stamp out the fire."

Blaine grimaced in full-on disgust. "Eww!"

"After that incident t-they" Kurt started now to whimper.  "tought it would be funny to nailed all our lawn furniture to the roof and then graffitied the garage with slurs.  I really thought they'd quit after the garage but the next day at school they threw pee balloons at me... after that came the dumpsters.  Then I dropped everything that mattered to me...I made a studio out of my basement so I could at least still perform.  I thought I got my confidence back in glee...but this little reminder [Kurt held up his rolled up letter] tells me it was all for naught"

Blaine couldn't hold back not embracing his boyfriend.   He tentatively placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders and not meeting any resistance from this he enveloped Kurt holding him up because  in this moment Kurt indeed started to crumble and break away from his mental snair in this moment too came the sobbing. "Breadsticks can wait...I don't think we should go, and I for sure not going to let you torture yourself being anywhere near..." Blaine stopped short of saying Rachel.  "You are the one who is important here - All this time I thought it was only Karoski...it wasnt it was this school."

Long time they just stood there in the choir room until only soft sobs remained.  They would have held their embrace longer if they wasn't so coldly interupted.

"Ah guys?" Schue's interruption came like the critical stop of a bird flying into a window. He had entered the choir room from his side office. "What's going on here?" he continued in a tone that was both surprised as it was accusatory  "And do I have to remind you about McKinley PDA Policy?"

"Come on Mr. Schue show some sympathy here." Blaine growled.  He wondered if the end of the school year meant Mr. Schuester somehow reverted back to some other form - One where he was now a jerk who didn't have to pretend to be Mr. Nice Guy - "Look, the policy is wrong, everyone knows it isn't enforced fairly and," Blaine made it a point to stress  "Sometime slack is warranted."

"I did cut you some slack - this was my classroom.  But after tonight this room will be The Adult Literacy Room for the duration of summer - I won't have any control over that.  I am here only looking out for you guys."

"Right and a hug is still just a hug Mr. Schue" Blaine turned to Kurt to reassure him. "Are you alright?  It's Schue"

"I  know," Kurt said, glaring at his teacher. 

Despite the clock on the wall Mr. Schuester looked at his watch for the time: 7 minutes to 5 "What are you doing in here this late anyways?"

"Mr. Schue now is not the time...really it isn't"

Kurt had stopped sobbing but now it was taking all his might not to turn hostile.  He is gritting his teeth and clinching his fists and this like most things he did in the choir room went unnoticed.

"What's really going on here?" Schuester asked rephrasing his question into a demand.

Blaine continued to speak up for Kurt. "Even if I were in a position to say anything, which I am not - you wouldn't understand - it's best that you just stay out of it and we'll be out of your hair soon enough."

Kurt was never more in love with Blaine for stepping in talking to Schue this way   But Kurt also knew Schuester all too well; unless you were kissing his ass or one of his favorites he was never easily won over.

As always Mr. Schuester  misread what he saw in Kurt. "I never took you for the sentlemental Kurt, but good for you -but I still will be wanting to close up.  I am heading to breadsticks with Emma - We just heard the great news Rachel was accepted to NYADA - I actually thought you guys would be there to cheer her on."

"Mr. Scheu!?" Blaine exclaimed. "Are you really this insensitive?!"

Kurt gave Mr. Schue one of his classic demon stares, a look that if looks could kill the choir director would be a pile of ash...Many knew Kurt didn't have much to say to his teacher - But many did not know his reason - It was something Kurt purposely kept it to himself.  Right now, if someone were to ask he gladly open both barrels and without hesitation tell how he had so little respect for his teacher that he regarded Schuester as willfully ignorant, petty, and lacking the credentials that a good teacher should have....and worse; he was a man who played favorites and threw everybody else under a bus.   Kurt pleaded with himself that he would not start back up again with the water-works  - He didn't want that, not in front of Schue.

"Is this something I can help you with?" His teacher asked, still remarkably obvious.

"No, not really" Kurt said as bluntly as he could.

"This really is a job better suited for Miss Pillsbury" Blaine added, he had not fully parted from Kurt - He couldn't do that - "It's better that you just let me handle this."

"Whatever, but at Five I am closing my doors - I need you both gone by then."

Kurt finally felt a need to take on his teacher. "You really don't know when to quit do you?"

"Do you think I owe you something?"

Kurt gave a sad half sarcastic laughed.  "Like I could imagine you'd ever listen."

"I don't understand"

"Of course YOU dont understand.  You've always been Mr. Oblivious...The man who thinks everybody loves him...Want to know why you got teacher of the year?  Everybody so just damn grateful you stopped teaching Spanish and gave Mr. Martinez your job...He would have been handed the award only Mr. Figgens said he hadn't been here long enough."

Blaine bit his tongue to avoid laughing out loud...but it was what they all thought.  "Come on Kurt we should go - before you really say something you'll regret."

"Do 'you mean there's more?"

"Do you honestly want a full rebut?  How for nearly 3 years I have been a team player but now I have nothing to show from it  - My dad ran against Sue to save your job and still I got not a damn thing in return - No Instead I was ostracized - made to listened to the guys in here call me names, and I can't tell how old it gets being throw into a dumpster every single morning.

"The guys from this class did this? 

"Yeah, the name calling, the insults,  And I think the only reason Puck stopped throwing me into the parking lot dumpster is because one time I was in uniform and Coach Sue gave him an earful... but then you knew about the dumpter long before that.  If I had dollar for every time you walked passed pretending like everything was normal"

"Ah..." Mr. Schuester was uncharacteristically speechless.  He had always enjoyed being seen as the cool teacher in front of the Jocks.  He never thought he'd ever be called out by one of their victins.  He had bought into the belief the dweebs had it coming.

"I am not done here because there's the not so small matter of the promise you made but had no qualms about breaking it with me - You told *ALL* of us how we all would have a chance to shine."

"Come on, I let you sing plenty," the choir director was certain.

"Name one venue- I will save you the trouble there hasn't been one.  That's why NYADA rejected me - You never once featured me."

"I see you blame me for your rejection do you?"

"You had a part in it, yes - You made a promise - I was just a fool to believe you make it good. Instead the closest I got was being told the only way I would get a solo is if I shaved my legs, drop 20lbs, and wore a dress...all this while being told how much I was not being a team player for saying no...and by-the-way while we're on this subject what happened to that first solo? Huh? That great idea you had just before I left for Dalton - Or were you just blowing smoke up my ass?"

"No, I really did have an idea - It was a James Bond Medley - I wanted it for sectionals I thought you could sing The Spy Who Love Me - But then you transferred -  In retrospect I think that had we done that for Nationals that year we might have placed higher."

"In retrospect you should have just left me alone at Dalton - I would be going to Columbia but at least it would be going to New York."

"But didnt those guys at Dalton almost blinded Blaine." Schuester looked over at Blaine hoping for an ally but Kurt was quick to rebut.

"...And they would not have tried had we been still there - So your point is what exactly?  You make a good play about how you are all about team work and fairness but the truth is you play favorites - Maybe by that measture I should count myself lucky I wasn't yours."  Kurt turned on his heels and headed for the doorway. 

"Where are you going" Kurt's former teacher asked.

"Not to Breadsticks," Kurt said, he was finally free.

.