Glass Bones & Paper Skin (3/?)
Title: Glass Bones & Paper Skin (3/?)
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word count: ~3,200
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Swearing, an illness which can be a sensitive subject for people, angst.
Summary: After Blaine tells Kurt what's up, they have a little time to process everything that's happening.
It was late by the time Kurt managed to drag himself into bed. Cheeks pink and bitten from the cold, eyes a puffy mess... tear tracks still shimmering upon his skin. Curling up on his side, Kurt clutched the duvet that was pulled up to his ears, hands fisting in the material as if he were clinging to it for dear life, as if he were holding on to try and keep himself together.
Blaine’s got cancer.... He’s got cancer.
He couldn’t think straight. Kurt tried to push something else through to the front of his mind. Something, anything. Maybe a good thought or maybe words of encouragement and positivity that told him that everything was going to be okay. Blaine was going to be okay. He had told Blaine that everything was going to be alright and that he was going to beat this because he was a fighter... but telling himself that was a whole different story.
But only one word rung through his mind. Bold, red, ugly. Repeating itself over and over. A death chant. Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer...
The dull grey of Kurt’s ceiling swam above him, as dark and as dismal as the fog that had settled inside his mind. Crying out inside his head, Kurt’s hands tightened, a light sheen of tears across his eyes as he spoke silent words, calling out to his mom like all of those times when he’d woken from a terrible nightmare after her death. He never went to his father because he had his own pain and suffering... he often heard him crying as he paused outside Burt’s bedroom door, one of Kurt’s small pales hands outstretched as if he could reach him through the wood and comfort him... Instead, Kurt just spoke to his mom, even if she would never, ever answer or give him advice.
I’m going to lose him. I can’t lose him. I always lose everything that I love. It’s like losing you all over again... Blaine’s got cancer. Why did it have to be Blaine?
I’m scared, Mom. I’m scared that I’ll lose him. I’m scared because I’ll have to see this disease slowly eat away at him and watch him waste away. I’ll see those thick curls of his fall out, I’ll see his face slowly get thinner and paler. I’ll see him get weaker.
Weaker. That’s the part that’s hurting the most. How can I be strong when Blaine isn’t?
Blaine is the strong one out of us. He was there for me when I felt no one else was. I'm not as weak as he seems to think I am but this... this kind of stuff... I can't take it. It all builds up on me and it pulls me down and I feel like I'm drowning and I just can't do it. I need him to be strong. He understood the trouble I was going through at McKinley. He helped me find courage. And although the ‘standing up to the bullies’ thing didn’t completely work out the way I wanted it too, he helped me settle into Dalton when I ran. I’ve fallen for him, Mom. I fell for him the moment I stopped him on that stairway and I would just do anything to see him smile the way he smiled at me forever.
He has been my rock. But the tables have turned. And now I have to be the one that holds him up and keeps him safe from the world.
I don’t think I can do it.
-
Blaine never made it to his bed.
When Kurt left, he had a brave face. A face that still completely read ‘I’m not holding myself together but I’m trying... for my sake and for yours’. But he did try, nevertheless. Blaine stood on the doorstep, frozen to the spot in the chilly winter’s breeze, as he watched Kurt’s car disappear down the dark, dark street, heart shattering as he watched tears rolling down his the younger boy’s face beyond the windscreen. As Blaine finally let himself into the house, his knee gave way and he fell to the floor with a clatter, arms wrapped around himself as he sobbed into the carpet. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one with an expiry date stamped upon his forehead? Why was it him who could hear his internal clock ticking loudly, as if to tell him that when time was up... all would be over?
Everything was hard. So fucking hard. And all he could see whilst curled up in the cold hallway, the draught from under the front door ghosting over him and tickling the small bit of flesh showing, was the tear stained face of Kurt within his mind.
He just laid there. He just laid there and sobbed. Treatment hadn’t even begun yet and he already felt... already felt that there was just no use. He wished he could believe the words that Kurt told him but... it just felt so much easier to run now, than to fight. Maybe it would just save his family and Kurt the pain of watching him die if he just passed on in peace and quiet, curled up against his front door in the gloomy hallway.
I can’t believe I’m putting them through so much pain. Why me? Did I do something? Did I do something so severe that I desperately needed punishing for my actions? If there’s a God up there, please, tell me what I did wrong. Because you’re not just hurting me. You’re hurting everyone. And I can’t stand seeing their pain.
If I’m going to die, God, please let it be soon. If this date upon my forehead is soon, then please save my loved ones the wasted hope and the wasted faith and the wasted moments that they’d spend by my bedside. You’re torturing them. You’re filling their lives with pain and I can’t help them.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave this world yet. I want to face Death with my head held high and my dignity intact, at a ripe old age, where I’ve lived many a-years with Kurt Hummel on my arm. If you have the power to stop this cancer, please do. Please help me. Please help everyone else.
I beg of you.
But if you plan to take me from their grasps sometime in the very near future, please don’t prolong the pain... just take me. I’m ready and I’m waiting. Just take me.
I’ll come without a fuss.
I’ll just face Death with my head held high.
-
Kurt hated the dark. He’d always hated the dark. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t know what was hiding inside its shadowy depths... he just hated not being able to see. If there was something Kurt hated, it was the inability to see. Physically and mentally. He’d pick something apart if he couldn’t understand it. He’d analyse it. He’d study it. He’d pull it apart at the seams, causing it to fray bit by bit until he could see.
Maybe this was why the whole prospect of Blaine’s future was so daunting. Because Kurt just couldn’t see.
Of course, Kurt can never see the future. It’s far off. He can’t decide what will happen. And he can’t prepare himself for anything painful that may happen in the future.
He can’t see what will happen to Blaine.
Sometimes, people just have this death sentence hanging above their head. A dark, grey thunder cloud. It’s there, it won’t go. And suddenly it’s coming even closer... counting the seconds between the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder to figure out how quickly it will arrive... and then it’s there, it’s directly above and...
It’s all over. Because Death has come to take everything away.
He can’t work out how long it will be until this cloud reaches Blaine. Counting the seconds between the flashes and claps didn’t work because the roaring of the death chant rang in his ears until it flooded all of his senses. All he knew was that the cloud was nearing... and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer...
Since his father had married Carole, the family had had to move to accommodate for their larger family, which seemed to have doubled in the space of a single day. One moment Kurt was in his basement, next, he found himself in a new, bare room, which screamed to have its walls splashed with colour and to be sprinkled with a pinch of Kurt’s spice... Kurt found it difficult being upstairs nearer to his father because masking his cries was something he wasn’t used to.
He could cry freely in his basement... sob and wail until the earlier hours and Sleep claimed him as His own, exhaustion engulfing him. And this seemed to be a moment when he needed to cry it out, to scream for his boyfriend that had limited time. He still couldn’t get his head around how someone could believe in a God if he was so willing to take someone with such little experience within the world with such little thought.
Why does it always happen to the ones I love?
First you, Mom, then Dad ending up in the hospital and now Blaine.
Was I always destined to have bad luck and have all of the horrible things in the world dumped right on the plate in front of me?
The times when something bad isn’t happening are very rare.
First, being born gay and being picked on for it like it’s wrong, like I have some sort of sick disease that, if I get teased enough and beaten enough and had enough slushies thrown into my face, will disappear just like that. I used to wish that it was just an illness and I could be cured and it would just leave me and I wouldn’t get taunted and I wouldn’t have the word ‘fag’ screamed at me wherever I went ever again.
Then your cancer came and I watched you die right before me and I bloody wished that that illness would be cured as well. I wished nothing would ever hurt Dad because he had suffered so much already. Just look what happened to his heart.
Wishing has never done many wonders for me.
I’ve learnt that a lot of illnesses can’t be cured and I just hope that Blaine’s won’t be one of them.
I know I’m pinning a death sentence upon him already. I know I should be stronger. I know I should think positively... but this is all too much to handle and my mind’s going straight down one track. Blaine means the world to me. He’s amazing and he’s funny and he’s beautiful and sometimes he could just look at me and my mind would melt into a jumbled mess. You would’ve loved him, if you’d had the chance to meet him... he would have won you over the second he stepped through that front door. It took a while for Dad to approve. He could see how much I had fallen for him... he was scared for me in case Blaine never reciprocated those feelings. I think I’ve had enough heartache in my life so far. He sees how happy Blaine makes me feel... but I think he was deciding on behalf of you as well... you would probably never forgive him if he let me date (well, possibly date someday...) someone that wasn’t to your standards... but you would have liked Blaine. I’m sure of it.
No. No, no, no, Kurt. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re inviting Death. You’re personally inviting Him to come and take away Blaine. Don’t give up on him, Kurt. Don’t you dare because yeah, Blaine will fucking beat this. Blaine can do this. And Blaine would never go down without a fight.
-
Maybe I could just die right here, right now... with this stupid draught tickling my back and dad’s slippers digging into my head. So much for dying with dignity.
Despite all that he’d ever told himself, all of the promises that he’ll fight this to the death... regardless if it were his death or the cancer’s... Blaine was ready to give up. Kurt’s face swimming through his mind should be a sign to stand up proud and tall and to just fight... but all he felt was the desperate need to end the pain and to end the tears falling down that boy’s face.
He couldn’t get his head around it. He couldn’t understand what he had to do to stop those tears. Why did he drag Kurt into this dark, dark world of his? Why couldn’t he have just learnt to support himself and just get on with it? But Blaine needed Kurt as if his life depended on it because, well, it kind of did.
Blaine’s hands snuck up to settle in his hair, his fist tight to his scalp as he screamed into his knees to muffle the sound. The screaming, the tears, the sobbing. How hard it was to stop once they’d begun. He wanted to tear his hair out (Ha, he thought bitterly to himself, it’s not as if the chemotherapy won’t do that for me) and he just wanted to lay there forever.
I’m not even that far in and I’m already on the verge of giving up... what is wrong with me?
He laid there for a little longer, trying to find the will to pull himself to his feet and to drag himself to the sanctuary of his comfy bed, to hide and feel the comforting arms of his duvet wrap around him and caress him until he falls asleep from pure exhaustion. But moving felt like effort and breathing felt like too much for him.
As if reading his thoughts, Blaine’s phone buzzed to life in his pocket, clambering for his attention. Groaning, he pulled it from its hiding place, Kurt’s name flashing up on the screen with a single word:
Courage.
A sob rose in his throat as he clutched hard at the phone in his hands, eyes shining over with tears. How the tables were turned... back when Kurt needed his support, he was the one sending encouraging texts and whispering words of comfort into his ear... now it was Kurt who had to keep Blaine together, to hold his hand and to pull him through and to tell him that yes, everything was going to be okay.
Closing the message, Blaine smiled at his phone background. It was a photograph of him and Kurt on his birthday last month... Kurt wearing a pointed glittery party hat, a delighted smile upon his face that was so wide, it caused his eyes to crinkle around the edges... Blaine had his cheek pressed against Kurt’s, curls free of their gel hold, a paper hat placed lopsidedly upon them, his eyes closed as they both laughed in delight together. Blaine loved this photograph. He loved to see Kurt smile. And if that smile ever vanished from that beautiful face, Blaine would risk life and limb, use every ounce of energy within his being to get it back. He bit his lip as he looked down at that screen, thumb brushing gently other Kurt’s face, comprehension finally dawning on him.
Giving up would mean taking that smile from Kurt’s face... and I’ve always promised that I would do anything to bring that smile back if it ever disappeared... I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I were the reason for it to vanish... so I have to fight. I have to fight for myself, for my family and certainly for Kurt.
The phone buzzed again in his hand and Blaine pulled back his thumb to read the latest words upon the screen. Of course, it was Kurt again, and the words brought tears back into his eyes but yeah... he was actually smiling.
I know you’re still awake. And I know you probably haven’t even made it to your bed at this rate. But I just wanted to remind you that I’m here. I’m here and I will always be here. I will be here to steady you if you stumble and I will be here to catch you if you fall. I will hold your hand every single damn step of the way. You don’t deserve this and you certainly don’t deserve to face this alone. If you need me, you call me. I don’t care what time of the night it is. I don’t even care if I’m halfway through a facial at the spa. You call me and I will be by your side as quickly as possible, okay? You’re amazing Blaine Anderson, and I know it’s going to be tough and the path is going to become very rocky... but you can’t stop fighting. You can never stop fighting. Because the world wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here in it, brightening up everyone’s day with a little touch of Blaine sunshine. Don’t stop believing in yourself because you can do it. I believe in you and the world believes in you... Now get your butt into bed, Mister, before I come and tuck you in myself. Keep holding on xx
A few escapee tears rolled down his cheeks as Blaine managed to push himself to his feet, hand smoothing down his hectic curls. He stumbled up the stairs to his room, the text message playing over and over in his head... I’m here and I will always be here... you can never stop fighting... I believe in you and the world believes in you...
He sighed heavily as he collapsed onto his bed after pulling on his pyjamas. After typing out a quick reply to Kurt to just let him know that he was fine, he curled up under the duvet, hugging himself hard as he reminded himself of the amazing best friend that he had been graced with.
Kurt Hummel is my reason to fight and damn it, will I fight!
-
Kurt’s phone buzzed upon the bedside chest, his eyes snapping quickly to the screen. Scanning the words, he picked out the vital parts, understanding that Blaine was safe and that he was okay...
Everything wasn’t going to be okay. Not yet anyway. It was going to tough. It was going to be hard. There would be treatment. A lot of doctors. Grey hospitals and endless corridors. Injections. Blood tests. Tablets. Surgery. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Pale skin and loss of hair. Weak bones. Fractures. Tears. Lots and lots of tears.
But they were going to go through it all together. And Kurt was going to beside Blaine every single moment of that tough, tough journey. They could do this. And that was what made this okay.
-
Both boys slept soundly after this short exchange, dried tears upon their cheeks but the smallest of smiles playing upon their pale lips.
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word count: ~3,200
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Swearing, an illness which can be a sensitive subject for people, angst.
Summary: After Blaine tells Kurt what's up, they have a little time to process everything that's happening.
It was late by the time Kurt managed to drag himself into bed. Cheeks pink and bitten from the cold, eyes a puffy mess... tear tracks still shimmering upon his skin. Curling up on his side, Kurt clutched the duvet that was pulled up to his ears, hands fisting in the material as if he were clinging to it for dear life, as if he were holding on to try and keep himself together.
Blaine’s got cancer.... He’s got cancer.
He couldn’t think straight. Kurt tried to push something else through to the front of his mind. Something, anything. Maybe a good thought or maybe words of encouragement and positivity that told him that everything was going to be okay. Blaine was going to be okay. He had told Blaine that everything was going to be alright and that he was going to beat this because he was a fighter... but telling himself that was a whole different story.
But only one word rung through his mind. Bold, red, ugly. Repeating itself over and over. A death chant. Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer...
The dull grey of Kurt’s ceiling swam above him, as dark and as dismal as the fog that had settled inside his mind. Crying out inside his head, Kurt’s hands tightened, a light sheen of tears across his eyes as he spoke silent words, calling out to his mom like all of those times when he’d woken from a terrible nightmare after her death. He never went to his father because he had his own pain and suffering... he often heard him crying as he paused outside Burt’s bedroom door, one of Kurt’s small pales hands outstretched as if he could reach him through the wood and comfort him... Instead, Kurt just spoke to his mom, even if she would never, ever answer or give him advice.
I’m going to lose him. I can’t lose him. I always lose everything that I love. It’s like losing you all over again... Blaine’s got cancer. Why did it have to be Blaine?
I’m scared, Mom. I’m scared that I’ll lose him. I’m scared because I’ll have to see this disease slowly eat away at him and watch him waste away. I’ll see those thick curls of his fall out, I’ll see his face slowly get thinner and paler. I’ll see him get weaker.
Weaker. That’s the part that’s hurting the most. How can I be strong when Blaine isn’t?
Blaine is the strong one out of us. He was there for me when I felt no one else was. I'm not as weak as he seems to think I am but this... this kind of stuff... I can't take it. It all builds up on me and it pulls me down and I feel like I'm drowning and I just can't do it. I need him to be strong. He understood the trouble I was going through at McKinley. He helped me find courage. And although the ‘standing up to the bullies’ thing didn’t completely work out the way I wanted it too, he helped me settle into Dalton when I ran. I’ve fallen for him, Mom. I fell for him the moment I stopped him on that stairway and I would just do anything to see him smile the way he smiled at me forever.
He has been my rock. But the tables have turned. And now I have to be the one that holds him up and keeps him safe from the world.
I don’t think I can do it.
-
Blaine never made it to his bed.
When Kurt left, he had a brave face. A face that still completely read ‘I’m not holding myself together but I’m trying... for my sake and for yours’. But he did try, nevertheless. Blaine stood on the doorstep, frozen to the spot in the chilly winter’s breeze, as he watched Kurt’s car disappear down the dark, dark street, heart shattering as he watched tears rolling down his the younger boy’s face beyond the windscreen. As Blaine finally let himself into the house, his knee gave way and he fell to the floor with a clatter, arms wrapped around himself as he sobbed into the carpet. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one with an expiry date stamped upon his forehead? Why was it him who could hear his internal clock ticking loudly, as if to tell him that when time was up... all would be over?
Everything was hard. So fucking hard. And all he could see whilst curled up in the cold hallway, the draught from under the front door ghosting over him and tickling the small bit of flesh showing, was the tear stained face of Kurt within his mind.
He just laid there. He just laid there and sobbed. Treatment hadn’t even begun yet and he already felt... already felt that there was just no use. He wished he could believe the words that Kurt told him but... it just felt so much easier to run now, than to fight. Maybe it would just save his family and Kurt the pain of watching him die if he just passed on in peace and quiet, curled up against his front door in the gloomy hallway.
I can’t believe I’m putting them through so much pain. Why me? Did I do something? Did I do something so severe that I desperately needed punishing for my actions? If there’s a God up there, please, tell me what I did wrong. Because you’re not just hurting me. You’re hurting everyone. And I can’t stand seeing their pain.
If I’m going to die, God, please let it be soon. If this date upon my forehead is soon, then please save my loved ones the wasted hope and the wasted faith and the wasted moments that they’d spend by my bedside. You’re torturing them. You’re filling their lives with pain and I can’t help them.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave this world yet. I want to face Death with my head held high and my dignity intact, at a ripe old age, where I’ve lived many a-years with Kurt Hummel on my arm. If you have the power to stop this cancer, please do. Please help me. Please help everyone else.
I beg of you.
But if you plan to take me from their grasps sometime in the very near future, please don’t prolong the pain... just take me. I’m ready and I’m waiting. Just take me.
I’ll come without a fuss.
I’ll just face Death with my head held high.
-
Kurt hated the dark. He’d always hated the dark. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t know what was hiding inside its shadowy depths... he just hated not being able to see. If there was something Kurt hated, it was the inability to see. Physically and mentally. He’d pick something apart if he couldn’t understand it. He’d analyse it. He’d study it. He’d pull it apart at the seams, causing it to fray bit by bit until he could see.
Maybe this was why the whole prospect of Blaine’s future was so daunting. Because Kurt just couldn’t see.
Of course, Kurt can never see the future. It’s far off. He can’t decide what will happen. And he can’t prepare himself for anything painful that may happen in the future.
He can’t see what will happen to Blaine.
Sometimes, people just have this death sentence hanging above their head. A dark, grey thunder cloud. It’s there, it won’t go. And suddenly it’s coming even closer... counting the seconds between the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder to figure out how quickly it will arrive... and then it’s there, it’s directly above and...
It’s all over. Because Death has come to take everything away.
He can’t work out how long it will be until this cloud reaches Blaine. Counting the seconds between the flashes and claps didn’t work because the roaring of the death chant rang in his ears until it flooded all of his senses. All he knew was that the cloud was nearing... and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer...
Since his father had married Carole, the family had had to move to accommodate for their larger family, which seemed to have doubled in the space of a single day. One moment Kurt was in his basement, next, he found himself in a new, bare room, which screamed to have its walls splashed with colour and to be sprinkled with a pinch of Kurt’s spice... Kurt found it difficult being upstairs nearer to his father because masking his cries was something he wasn’t used to.
He could cry freely in his basement... sob and wail until the earlier hours and Sleep claimed him as His own, exhaustion engulfing him. And this seemed to be a moment when he needed to cry it out, to scream for his boyfriend that had limited time. He still couldn’t get his head around how someone could believe in a God if he was so willing to take someone with such little experience within the world with such little thought.
Why does it always happen to the ones I love?
First you, Mom, then Dad ending up in the hospital and now Blaine.
Was I always destined to have bad luck and have all of the horrible things in the world dumped right on the plate in front of me?
The times when something bad isn’t happening are very rare.
First, being born gay and being picked on for it like it’s wrong, like I have some sort of sick disease that, if I get teased enough and beaten enough and had enough slushies thrown into my face, will disappear just like that. I used to wish that it was just an illness and I could be cured and it would just leave me and I wouldn’t get taunted and I wouldn’t have the word ‘fag’ screamed at me wherever I went ever again.
Then your cancer came and I watched you die right before me and I bloody wished that that illness would be cured as well. I wished nothing would ever hurt Dad because he had suffered so much already. Just look what happened to his heart.
Wishing has never done many wonders for me.
I’ve learnt that a lot of illnesses can’t be cured and I just hope that Blaine’s won’t be one of them.
I know I’m pinning a death sentence upon him already. I know I should be stronger. I know I should think positively... but this is all too much to handle and my mind’s going straight down one track. Blaine means the world to me. He’s amazing and he’s funny and he’s beautiful and sometimes he could just look at me and my mind would melt into a jumbled mess. You would’ve loved him, if you’d had the chance to meet him... he would have won you over the second he stepped through that front door. It took a while for Dad to approve. He could see how much I had fallen for him... he was scared for me in case Blaine never reciprocated those feelings. I think I’ve had enough heartache in my life so far. He sees how happy Blaine makes me feel... but I think he was deciding on behalf of you as well... you would probably never forgive him if he let me date (well, possibly date someday...) someone that wasn’t to your standards... but you would have liked Blaine. I’m sure of it.
No. No, no, no, Kurt. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re inviting Death. You’re personally inviting Him to come and take away Blaine. Don’t give up on him, Kurt. Don’t you dare because yeah, Blaine will fucking beat this. Blaine can do this. And Blaine would never go down without a fight.
-
Maybe I could just die right here, right now... with this stupid draught tickling my back and dad’s slippers digging into my head. So much for dying with dignity.
Despite all that he’d ever told himself, all of the promises that he’ll fight this to the death... regardless if it were his death or the cancer’s... Blaine was ready to give up. Kurt’s face swimming through his mind should be a sign to stand up proud and tall and to just fight... but all he felt was the desperate need to end the pain and to end the tears falling down that boy’s face.
He couldn’t get his head around it. He couldn’t understand what he had to do to stop those tears. Why did he drag Kurt into this dark, dark world of his? Why couldn’t he have just learnt to support himself and just get on with it? But Blaine needed Kurt as if his life depended on it because, well, it kind of did.
Blaine’s hands snuck up to settle in his hair, his fist tight to his scalp as he screamed into his knees to muffle the sound. The screaming, the tears, the sobbing. How hard it was to stop once they’d begun. He wanted to tear his hair out (Ha, he thought bitterly to himself, it’s not as if the chemotherapy won’t do that for me) and he just wanted to lay there forever.
I’m not even that far in and I’m already on the verge of giving up... what is wrong with me?
He laid there for a little longer, trying to find the will to pull himself to his feet and to drag himself to the sanctuary of his comfy bed, to hide and feel the comforting arms of his duvet wrap around him and caress him until he falls asleep from pure exhaustion. But moving felt like effort and breathing felt like too much for him.
As if reading his thoughts, Blaine’s phone buzzed to life in his pocket, clambering for his attention. Groaning, he pulled it from its hiding place, Kurt’s name flashing up on the screen with a single word:
Courage.
A sob rose in his throat as he clutched hard at the phone in his hands, eyes shining over with tears. How the tables were turned... back when Kurt needed his support, he was the one sending encouraging texts and whispering words of comfort into his ear... now it was Kurt who had to keep Blaine together, to hold his hand and to pull him through and to tell him that yes, everything was going to be okay.
Closing the message, Blaine smiled at his phone background. It was a photograph of him and Kurt on his birthday last month... Kurt wearing a pointed glittery party hat, a delighted smile upon his face that was so wide, it caused his eyes to crinkle around the edges... Blaine had his cheek pressed against Kurt’s, curls free of their gel hold, a paper hat placed lopsidedly upon them, his eyes closed as they both laughed in delight together. Blaine loved this photograph. He loved to see Kurt smile. And if that smile ever vanished from that beautiful face, Blaine would risk life and limb, use every ounce of energy within his being to get it back. He bit his lip as he looked down at that screen, thumb brushing gently other Kurt’s face, comprehension finally dawning on him.
Giving up would mean taking that smile from Kurt’s face... and I’ve always promised that I would do anything to bring that smile back if it ever disappeared... I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I were the reason for it to vanish... so I have to fight. I have to fight for myself, for my family and certainly for Kurt.
The phone buzzed again in his hand and Blaine pulled back his thumb to read the latest words upon the screen. Of course, it was Kurt again, and the words brought tears back into his eyes but yeah... he was actually smiling.
I know you’re still awake. And I know you probably haven’t even made it to your bed at this rate. But I just wanted to remind you that I’m here. I’m here and I will always be here. I will be here to steady you if you stumble and I will be here to catch you if you fall. I will hold your hand every single damn step of the way. You don’t deserve this and you certainly don’t deserve to face this alone. If you need me, you call me. I don’t care what time of the night it is. I don’t even care if I’m halfway through a facial at the spa. You call me and I will be by your side as quickly as possible, okay? You’re amazing Blaine Anderson, and I know it’s going to be tough and the path is going to become very rocky... but you can’t stop fighting. You can never stop fighting. Because the world wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here in it, brightening up everyone’s day with a little touch of Blaine sunshine. Don’t stop believing in yourself because you can do it. I believe in you and the world believes in you... Now get your butt into bed, Mister, before I come and tuck you in myself. Keep holding on xx
A few escapee tears rolled down his cheeks as Blaine managed to push himself to his feet, hand smoothing down his hectic curls. He stumbled up the stairs to his room, the text message playing over and over in his head... I’m here and I will always be here... you can never stop fighting... I believe in you and the world believes in you...
He sighed heavily as he collapsed onto his bed after pulling on his pyjamas. After typing out a quick reply to Kurt to just let him know that he was fine, he curled up under the duvet, hugging himself hard as he reminded himself of the amazing best friend that he had been graced with.
Kurt Hummel is my reason to fight and damn it, will I fight!
-
Kurt’s phone buzzed upon the bedside chest, his eyes snapping quickly to the screen. Scanning the words, he picked out the vital parts, understanding that Blaine was safe and that he was okay...
Everything wasn’t going to be okay. Not yet anyway. It was going to tough. It was going to be hard. There would be treatment. A lot of doctors. Grey hospitals and endless corridors. Injections. Blood tests. Tablets. Surgery. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Pale skin and loss of hair. Weak bones. Fractures. Tears. Lots and lots of tears.
But they were going to go through it all together. And Kurt was going to beside Blaine every single moment of that tough, tough journey. They could do this. And that was what made this okay.
-
Both boys slept soundly after this short exchange, dried tears upon their cheeks but the smallest of smiles playing upon their pale lips.