#hippiefeel

he   knows   she's   upset,   of   course   she   is.   his   parents   have   been   the   cause   of   countless   problems   for   kurt   in   the   past,   have   put   him   through   unimaginable   pain.   but   they’re   his   parents,   and   they   say   they   need   him.   what   they   need   is   a   kid   they   can   use   for   cash,   forced   into   interviews   or   competitions   or   whatever   else   pops   up.   what   they   need   is   control.   but   kurt   doesn’t   see   that,   of   course   he   doesn’t.   he   so   easily   falls   for   everything   they   say,   so   desperate   for   his   parents   approval   that   he   doesn’t   think   through   any   possible   ulterior   motives.   “   they’re   my   parents,   joan.   ”   said   as   if   that   means   anything,   as   if   the   parental   bond   is   something   huge   and   important.   they   both   know   that   the   role   of   parent   doesn’t   mean   much.   “   and - and   mom   apologized   for   what   happened.   ”   specifically   for   lashing   out   with   joan   present,   not   for   anything   before   that.   she   wasn’t   sorry   for   what   she’d   done,   she   was   sorry   for   getting   caught.   “   they   love   me,   baby.   and   they   need   me.   ”

in  that  moment  the  world  freezes.  he  blinks  a  few  times,  scanning  her  face  to  try  to  work  out  if  she’s  joking.  but  she’s  not,  he  knows  she’s  not.  “  what?  ”  while  shock  and  fear  have  a  home  on  his  face,  they’re  not  the  most  prominent  emotions.  there’s  a  hint  of  joy  that  settles  above  everything  else,  an  excitement  that  he  definitely  hadn’t  expected  to  come  from  the  words.  “  wh—  that’s—  i  mean,  that’s  great,  right?  i  mean..  is—  is  that  great?  ”  the  more  he  thought  about  it  the  more  he’d  find  less  than  ideal  conditions  -  they’re  both  young  and  stupid,  neither  prepared  to  raise  a  kid,  their  relationship  is  far  from  being  heavily  public,  and  he  knows  exactly  how  his  parents  will  react  -  but  even  still,  that  excitement  rests  on  his  features.  “  i  mean  is—  are  you—  if  you  want  to..  if  you  want  to  have  a  baby..  i’m—  i’m  with  you.  ”

GUILT   IMMEDIATELY   FLOODS   HIM.   nightmares   are   all   too   common,   between   the   way   his   parents   treat   him   and   the   horrors   seen   at   nightwing   it   only   felt   natural   that   he   struggled   to   process   it.   he   gasps   for   air,   tries   to   breathe   deeply   and   calm   himself.   “   I'm   sorry.   ”   voice   a   breathless   whisper,   as   if   he'd   done   something   wrong.   he's   sure   he   woke   her   up,   something   he   feels   horrible   about   considering   how   much   they   both   struggle   to   sleep.   THE   IMAGES   KEEP   PLAYING   IN   HIS   HEAD.   the   image   of   joan   all   covered   in   blood,   the   struggle   to   save   her,   mixed   in   with   pictures   of   his   own   blood,   his   parents   doing.   how   quickly   one   will   blend   into   the   other,   the   blonde   terrified   of   his   parents   treating   her   the   way   they   treat   him.   “   I'm   sorry,   baby.   I'm   —   I'm   fine.   I'm   sorry.   ”

INCORRECT QUOTES    |    ft. @hippiefeel.

he   should've   told   her,   he   knows   that.   but   if   he   had   told   her   she   would've   stopped   him,   would've   kept   him   from   that   house,   or   at   the   least   would've   gone   with   him.   but   he   didn't   want   that,   didn't   need   the   conflict   that   came   with   admitting   where   he   wanted   to   go.   he   wasn't   gone   that   long,   but   he   imagines   that   realistically   she   knew   exactly   where   he   went.   where   else   would   he   have   gone?   “   I'm   sorry.   ”   voice   is   gentle   as   he   puts   down   the   backpack   of   belongings   he'd   managed   to   grab   from   his   parents   house,   mostly   clothes,   the   boy   having   very   few   personal   possessions.   he   moves   to   her   side   quickly,   gentle   as   he   takes   her   hand.   “   i   didn't   mean   to   worry   you.   ”   but   he   always   does,   doesn't   he?   anything   to   do   with   his   parents   worries   her.   “   i   just..   i   knew   you   wouldn't   want   me   going   back   there.   ”   sneaking   away   because   he   knew   the   truth   wouldn't   go   down   well   isn't   exactly   the   best   look,   but   he’s   so   used   to   a   world   where   any   form   of   conflict   led   to   violence   and   pain,   something   he   so   very   much   wasn't   prepared   for   when   it   came   to   her.   she'd   never   hurt   him,   he   knows   that,   and   yet   some   part   of   him   will   never   really   leave   his   mothers   house,   will   never   really   get   out   of   there   entirely.