Wrong. Epilogue
A/N: That’s it; the end of a long, tough journey. Thank you for reading, for letting this story move you, for commenting. I’m sorry if I didn’t answer your comments - sometimes it’s a choice between spending the small window of free time responding to them or writing some more. Writing usually wins. So each and every sentence of any of my stories is one big thank you for all of you, my readers - for being the best motivation ever and helping me believe in myself enough to always keep writing. Thank you.
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EPILOGUE
Blaine would love to be able to say that it gets easy after that, but it doesn’t work that way. It’s still a battle, every single moment a fight to get better. There are days when he feels so numb he wants to scratch at his skin to get to the real, feeling person underneath; there are hours upon hours of therapy - by himself, with his parents, with Kurt - many of which end in tears. There are nights when he can’t sleep and Kurt’s no longer there all the time to soothe and cuddle him; and moments when he feels so exhausted he just wants to give up. There’s still anxiety and occasional panic attacks, even though these are a rarity now. It’s not easy.
But there are more moments like that now - moments when he feels himself, and it’s enough to give him hope; strength to keep fighting. After the meds kick in for good, these moments become longer and more frequent, until he remembers what it’s like to be motivated, energetic; to be happy. And there are days that make it all so worth it; worth the fight, the pain, the exhaustion.
Christmas spent partly at Kurt’s house, and partly with his parents who at least try to be there for him, for real.
New Year’s with friends from school and some of the old New Directions crowd, and kissing Kurt at midnight under the clear starry sky.
Returning to school and Glee, and remembering why he loved performing.
Realizing that somehow, somewhere, the good days became more frequent than the bad ones.
The afternoons spent with Kurt in the garage or in his house, and their sleepovers once or twice a week.
The pride on everyone’s faces when the acceptance letter from NYU comes.
The afternoon, weeks later in the empty house, when they get carried away and end up naked, pressed against each other in a frantic rhythm of stuttering hips until they both come and it feels like the first time all over again.
And that moment when they stand, hand in hand, on the doorstep of their first apartment in New York, ready to make that one step into their bright future, together.
It may still be a fight, sometimes. There may be bad moments, bad days, more therapy, meds for months and months before he’ll be able to live without them - but it’s worth it. It will always be worth it, no matter what.
THE END