fic: Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn minds): part 1 (a)
Title: Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn minds): part 1
Rating: PG, (overall NC-17 for the verse)
Warnings: Future fic, brain injuries, allusions to depression and PTSD
Word Count: 8,843
Summary:But, isn't that why he's doing this? Sitting at home, going to group, venturing to the grocery story with Kurt, all the things he does that make him want more, that give him the desire, the need, to do something, to be out on his own, to prove ot the world that he can. To prove to himself.
A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.
Part of the Lovesong verse
AN:As always, a huge thanks to shandyall for being an amazing beta and always helping me to improve my writing. I apologize for how long this has taken me, but school and graduation and life got in the way for a while. You shouldn't have to wait that long again, I promise. This is a two-part chapter as well, it just got to be too monstrous, so look for the next part in a week or so. You guys rock.
Together September 15th, 2018)
Of Hurt and Hope (June 20th, 2018; July 13th, 2018)
A Time of Firsts November 24th, 2018; December 25th, 2018; March 16th, 2019)
To Sleep, To Wake May 7th, 2018)
(fear (June 5th, 2018)
Coffee is a Bitter Drink June 22nd, 2019)
A Father's Eye (April 23rd, 2018; October 19th, 2018; February 15th, 2019; October 12th, 2019 )
Resolution, Evolution November 5th, 2019; December 2nd-3rd, 2019)
(feel) November 16th, 2018)
Resolution, Evolution: a continuatio (December 3rd, 2019)
Shatte (January 23rd, 2019)
Let Me(December 17th, 2019)
Let Me: a continuatio (December 20th, 2019)
Sometimes (a sandwich is all it takes (January 17th, 2019)
And When I Wait, All I See is You May 2nd, 2018; May 9th, 2018)
Hold onto the Sun April 23rd, 2018; June 20th, 2018; February 8th, 2020)
Hold onto the Sun: a continuation February 8th, 2020)
(found (February 19th, 2020; February 28th, 2020)
At the End of the Da (December 4th, 2018)
Slow Dancing April 26th, 2019; September 2nd, 2019; January 6th, 2020)
Each and Every (June 6th, 2018; June 19th, 2018; December 25th, 2018; February 20th, 2019)
Under These Fluorescent Lights (June 1st, 2017; May 13th-15th, 25th 2018; June 1st, 2018)
Bonus Letters blueprint
June 12th, 2020
Friday
Today Blaine gets up before Kurt. He presses a kiss to Kurt’s forehead before sliding out of bed, smiling at the way Kurt hums and snuggles deeper into his pillow, lips parting just slightly. Blaine loves the way Kurt looks just before he wakes up, how relaxed his face is, the bed messed hair that falls across his forehead, the way his lips move like he’s talking to someone in his sleep. He looks peaceful, happy.
Blaine reaches for his cane, not quite stable enough in the early morning to do without it. The door squeaks when he opens it and Blaine curses himself, as he does every morning, for not remembering to oil it, but Kurt doesn’t move, keeps sleeping. Belle jumps up from her bed by the couch, eagerly trots over to him and nudges her head against his legs. He takes a minute to scratch behind her ears before letting her out into the back yard.
He’ll make coffee before his shower, Blaine decides, so that it’s fresh whenever Kurt wakes up. Making coffee isn’t as hard as it used to be, and he never looks once at the directions Kurt taped to the fridge. When the coffee pot starts to sputter to life, Blaine lets Belle back in, makes his way to the bathroom. He sings in the shower, the song happy and upbeat, despite his apprehension for the events of today. The shower chair is only needed at the end, the hot water making his muscles loose and shaky but Blaine doesn’t mind. Not anymore. He knows he needs these things, the bars on the wall, the chair and the extra support. He needs them, but he also knows that he’s strong, that he can do so much without them and that’s what he’s been focusing on. On the improvements, not the setbacks. On doing things that he couldn’t even begin to do without Kurt’s help, before.
Kurt’s still sleeping when Blaine finishes, has cocooned himself in the comforter now that Blaine’s not there to fight back for it. Blaine stays as quiet as he can, wanting Kurt to get his much needed sleep. He’s been stressing about today, Blaine knows, worrying so much he tosses and turns for hours before he finally drifts off. Blaine’s been worried too, but for different reasons than Kurt, and he wants today to go perfectly. Including Kurt getting enough sleep.
Blaine considers the closet, pulls out a pair of dark jeans, a gray striped button up t-shirt, and a dark red cardigan. There are a lot of buttons but he’s determined, wants to look his best today. He shimmies into the jeans, sits on the padded bench Kurt’s arranged near the closet for this very reason. Button up shirts are easier to put on, there’s no wrestling it over his head, but the tiny buttons prove frustrating, his fingers still lacking the fine motor skills to do them up easily. But Blaine bites his lip and powers through, concentrates on each button at a time, only fumbles once, smiles when he pops the last one through. He slides the cardigan on and doesn’t bother to button it, he’ll probably need to take it off later and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself fumbling with the buttons in public.
The outfit isn’t complete without a tie, Blaine decides, and he wants to look his absolute best. He debates between his selection before deciding on the deep navy tie with a vertical red stripe Kurt got him for his birthday a few years ago. He grabs it with slightly trembling fingers, moves to stand in front of the full length mirror, wraps it around his neck. Steeling his jaw, Blaine attempts the pattern he used to know so well, folding over and then under and then looping around and through and… no, the knot falls without resistance. Blaine inhales and tries again. Over, under, through, loop; every time the tie isn’t right, the knot lopsided or backwards or not even a knot at all. He bites back a groan of frustration, staring at himself in the mirror. His hair needs to be gelled down just a tad, the frizz a little too overwhelming today, despite the haircut Kurt had just given him. But he looks good, Blaine thinks, decent at least. At first glance you might not be able to tell that he’s… different, might not see the stiffness of his right arm, the way his right knee doesn’t bend quite as well. Might miss the way the left side of his smile doesn’t reach the right, the way he sometimes still slurs over words.
Except for this stupid tie and Blaine’s about ready to give up, who needs a tie anyways? But then gentle hands are on his, stilling his frantic movements, and he turns his head, Kurt pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, and he didn’t even hear him get up.
“Let me,” Kurt says and Blaine drops his arms to his sides, lets Kurt do up the tie with nimble fingers. Blaine murmurs a quiet thank you, watches Kurt’s face as his brow furrows in concentration, the way his hair is sticking up on one side from sleep, and Blaine marvels in the fact that he gets to see Kurt like this, he’s the only one who sees Kurt ruffled and tired from sleep but still looking as perfect as he always does.
“You look very suave,” Kurt says once he’s tucked the tie inside Blaine’s cardigan, smoothes his hands flat across Blaine’s chest.
“I want to make a good im… um, impression,” Blaine responds, tries to smile at Kurt but it’s hard when his heart is pounding in his chest, nervous and excited all at once.
“You don’t have to make an impression on Cooper.” Kurt tilts his head to the side, like he’s examining Blaine. Blaine just shrugs, tries to appear nonchalant. “I know.”
“Okay,” Kurt says with a smile, leans in to press a kiss to Blaine’s cheek. He glances at the clock. “We have a few hours before we have to leave for the airport, I’m going to hop in the shower, alright?”
“Okay,” Blaine says, and he doesn’t really want Kurt to go, but he’s the one leaving.
-
Kurt showers and Blaine goes through his suitcase. He’s sure he’s forgetting something, and he triple checks the list he made with Kurt: toothbrush (check), pajamas (check), underwear (check), medication (check), swimsuit (check), shaving cream (check), shampoo (check), emergency numbers (check). He has everything, he’s sure of it, but he can’t stop the niggling feeling that there’s still something missing.
But he supposes that Cooper can get him whatever he’s forgotten, and Kurt is very thorough, so he’s sure he’s just being paranoid. He distracts himself by making eggs for Kurt, determined to do at least one useful thing before he leaves. He scrambles them, adds salt and pepper in the way that Kurt likes, dishes them on a plate just in time for Kurt to make his way into the kitchen, hair wrapped in a towel, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.
“Eggs!” Kurt exclaims, a little too enthusiastically and Blaine knows this is hard for him. It’s the first time they’re going to be apart for more than a night since Blaine came home from the hospital, almost three years ago. Blaine doesn’t know what to say, his throat has gone dry, so they sit and they eat and Kurt wraps his foot around Blaine’s calf and maybe it will all be okay.
-
Until they’re at the airport. Blaine can tell Kurt is blinking back tears, his lip caught between his teeth to still it’s quivering. They’ve checked Blaine’s bag, his tickets clutched in his hand and security is looming in front of them, a clicking, blinking symbol of goodbyes.
“I don’t want you to go.” The words are whispered, and Kurt’s looking down at their feet. Blaine swallows, clears his throat, swallows again.
“It’s only ten days,” he says, reaches to tangle his fingers with Kurt’s.
“I know, just, I’ll miss you so much.” His voice cracks in the middle, eyes shining with too many tears.
“I’ll text you and… call you every, um, day. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Kurt gives a shaky laugh, wipes away the few tears that escape.
“Every day?”
“Ten times a day,” Blaine assures, steps forward to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips. “You’ll get sick of me.”
“Not possible,” Kurt returns, wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck and pulls him in close. He sucks in a deep breath, like he wants to memorize this moment, the way Blaine smells and feels and the heat coming off their bodies. Blaine closes his eyes, lets his chin rest on Kurt’s shoulder. “Go show L.A. what it’s been missing,” Kurt whispers, presses another lingering kiss to Blaine’s lips.
“I love you,” Blaine says, clutches tight to Kurt for one more second and then Kurt is turning him around, nudging him towards security.
“I love you too.”
And Blaine leans on his cane, knows if he doesn’t leave now Kurt might never let him go. He looks back once he’s through security, can just see Kurt at the entrance, his cheeks red from tears but a smile on his face. He waves, blows a kiss, and Blaine returns it, turns around and fumbles for his phone.
To Cooper [12:46p] Through security. Can’t wait to see you!!!
Blaine pockets the phone, a smile pulling at his lips and for the first time he’s not nervous. He’s ready.
-
Kurt’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, makes the drive back home from the airport, and tries valiantly not to cry.
He doesn’t succeed.
-
Blaine makes it to his gate with an hour to spare. The airport is busy, people in business suits bustling between the terminals, families dragging tired looking children down the halls, couples taking up too many seats in the terminal. The only open chair is marked with a handicap sign and he’s not about to sit there, not with his cane clutched in his hand, already bringing too much attention to himself. So he wanders around the terminal, browses through a bookstore, buys a small paperback that looks decently interesting, makes a pitstop at the Cinnabon next door and orders the biggest, gooey-est cinnamon roll he sees.
He sends a picture message to Kurt (because while Kurt will grumble about saturated fats and fitting into his slimmest jeans, Blaine know that he has a weakness for anything covered in sweet, sugary glaze) before starting to make his way back to his gate. Once there, he leans against the wall, tucks his cane under his arm, and digs into his cinnamon roll, closes his eyes and almost groans for how good it tastes, decides in a moment of ecstasy that if there’s a reason he’s thankful to still be alive, it’s because of delicious baked goods.
“Blaine?” A voice has him fluttering his eyes back open, glancing around in confusion. “Oh my gosh, Blaine!”
And then he spots the owner of the voice, a tall, dark haired figure moving closer to him from across the hall.
“Mike?” Blaine says, surprised. He quickly closes the Cinnabon box, moves slightly away from the wall.
“Wow, hi,” Mike exclaims when he’s reached Blaine, eyes quickly taking him in and Blaine suddenly feels self conscious, all too aware of the cane gripped tightly in one hand, the stiffness in his arm, the uneven set of his mouth.
“This is a, um, a surprise,” Blaine says, shifts his feet.
“No kidding,” Mike agrees, still smiling in a way Blaine wishes he could return. “Where are you headed to?”
Blaine blinks a moment, feeling slightly off in the conversation, still trying to deal with the surprise of seeing Mike here, in a place where he had expected nothing but complete anonymity. “Um, I’m going to LA. To visit my brother,” Blaine explains, isn’t quite sure where he should be looking, is starting to feel a little uncomfortable under Mike’s careful gaze. “What about you?”
“Oh, I just got off my flight from Chicago, that’s where Tina and I are living now, I don’t know if Kurt told you. I’m just here on some business for a few days.”
“Oh,” Blaine says, nods at Mike’s words, doesn’t know what to say. He can feel his heart starting to race, his nerves heightened and he just doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to interact with anyone anymore, not without Kurt there to draw attention away from him, to give him a break when he can see him faltering.
“Is that Jodi Picoult?” Mike asks, a note of amusement in his voice, points to the paperback tucked under Blaine’s arm. Blaine pulls it out, glances at the cover.
“Uh… yes?” The name does sound familiar, Blaine thinks, can’t place where he’s heard it before.
“Tina’s in love with her books, but I always found them a little contrived,” Mike remarks, pauses. “Are you reading it?”
Blaine glances down at the book, back up at Mike.
“Well I’m not coloring in it.”
Mike’s cheeks turn red, and Blaine knows he must feel embarrassed, knows how unsure Mike must be about talking him, knows how awkward this situation is for both of them.
“How’s Tina?” Blaine tries, wants more than anything for this conversation to be successful, doesn’t want Mike to regret stopping to say hi in the first place.
“She’s pregnant again,” Mike beams, like he’s been holding this information in for too long, his grin so wide Blaine’s not sure it won’t take up whole face. “I found out on Monday.”
“That’s great, Mike,” Blaine says, tries to make it sound sincere while scrambling to remember ever learning they had a first baby. And he wonders how many of his friends’ lives he’s missed out on and forgotten, how many milestones and landmarks his friends have reached and he doesn’t even know. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Mike says, still beaming. “Next time we’re all in New York we’ll have meet up. Rosalyn hasn’t been to the big city yet, but Tina keeps hinting about it.” Mike pauses and Blaine doesn’t know what to say, tries to remember how he made such effortless conversation before, how he used to talk to everyone without hesitation, used to thrive on social interaction, on meeting new people, catching up with old friends, talking to prospective students. He’s not that Blaine anymore, he knows that, but he still feels the loss inside him, an empty, faltering space where his confidence used to be.
“So where’s Kurt?” Mike asks after a silent moment, glancing around. Blaine clears his throat, takes a breath.
“He’s at home,” Blaine answers, words clear and calculated. “I’m going by myself.” He bites his lip, hates how pathetic he just made himself sound, like he’s a kid navigating the real world on his own for the first time.
“That’s great, Blaine,” Mike says, and his smile is genuine. His eyes flicker over Blaine, down to his cane and back. “You look really good, I was in New York when you were, uh, still in the hospital,” this time Mike falters, his smile a little more strained, eyes sad and Blaine wishes he could just sink into the floor and disappear. “You look good,” he repeats, reaches forward to squeeze the top of Blaine’s arm. “I’m so glad to see you’re doing okay.”
Okay is subjective, Blaine thinks but feels bad because Mike is being genuine, he really is glad to see Blaine, is glad to see him doing well, and while Blaine doesn’t really remember it, he knows seeing him in the hospital would have been a shock, something most people don’t like to remember, a memory they don’t want their friends associated with.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, tries to sound earnest because he really does appreciate Mike’s genuine happiness at seeing him, he can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed that it’s something that he needs, that everyone who knew him before will now have something to compare him to, to see his flaws now and tell him how much he’s improved, how good he looks now. Like he should be proud of the fact that he still can’t walk without some sort of support, that he still needs help getting dressed in the morning, that he can’t remember the fact that his friends are now having children. That everyone else’s lives seemed to have progressed so much and his is marked by childish victories. Stagnant.
A metallic voice overhead informs them it’s time for Blaine’s plane to start boarding and Blaine shuffles, makes a gesture towards the gate, feels awkward and out of place.
“Have a good trip, Blaine,” Mike says, leans forward to give Blaine a quick, tight hug and Blaine lets his eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, feels confused by the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“Thanks,” Blaine murmurs, pulls away, takes a step back before pausing. “Good luck, Mike, with, um, with the baby.”
Mikes smiles and nods, tells him “we’ll send you pictures,” and he’s walking away, sending a small wave back in Blaine’s direction. Blaine can’t really wave back, not with a cane in one hand and a Cinnabon box in another so he wiggles a finger and smiles, watches his old friend retreating, moving out of sight.
He turns toward the gate where people have started lining up, anxious hurry onto the plane where they’ll just have to wait again, throws his cinnamon roll in the garbage, and steps into line.
-
On the plane, his seat is small and uncomfortable, and he’s desperately thankful it’s an aisle seat (he had flat out refused for Kurt to book him the handicap accessible seat even though he knew it would make things so much easier, he can’t stand the eyes of people staring at him, questioning why someone so young would need the seat normally reserved for the elderly, examining him and trying to spot the thing that makes him different, unlike everyone else), he pulls out his phone, fingers hovering over his string of texts with Kurt. He thinks about telling him about Mike, about telling him this was a mistake, he’s not ready to face the world on his own. Not yet. But.
But, isn’t that why he’s doing this? Sitting at home, going to group, venturing to the grocery store with Kurt, all the things he does at that make him want more, that give him the desire, the need, to do something, to be out on his own, to prove to the world that he can. To prove to himself.
He locks his phone, shoves it back in his pocket, and settles in.
-
Kurt is not moping. Kurt does not mope. He takes hardships with grace and tact, a life of unending upheavals and difficulties teaching him that moping serves no purpose except to make him feel worse about the situation than he did to begin with and he is in no way…
Kurt threw his ice cream covered spoon on the coffee table and sighed. He was moping. It had barely been four hours since he’d dropped Blaine off at the airport and he was already spiraling into a desolate cave of loneliness and despair and… and how did he expect to survive ten days like this? He wanted to text Blaine, to make sure he was doing okay (which he was, if the picture message of the largest cinnamon roll he’d ever seen was anything to go by), but Blaine would still be in the air, his six hour flight barely half over.
Belle nudged her head against Kurt’s leg, laid her chin on his knee and looked up at him with those wide, understanding eyes that only a dog has.
“Do you miss him already too?” Kurt asks Belle, reaches to scratch behind her floppy ears. “I know this is what he wanted to do, what I wanted him to do but…”
His throat feels tight, and he practices the deep breathing exercises the counselor he’s been seeing (at Blaine’s insistence) taught him to deal with the underlying panic he can’t seem to get rid of.
“I don’t like him being gone,” Kurt manages, his voice wobbly and he feels pathetic but he can’t help it, lets Belle jump up on the couch next to him, hugs her close and cries.
-
Cooper is waiting for Blaine at the gate, his smile wide, his arms waving to get his attention and Blaine falls gratefully against his brother, melts into his side. Six hours is too long to sit on a plane with the air pressure constantly fluctuating and ears that won’t pop no matter how much gum he chews and he can feel a headache blooming behind his eyes, can only bring himself to nod when Cooper asks if he wants to go home and sleep for awhile.
He aches from missing Kurt, from the never ending flight, but Cooper slings Blaine’s backpack onto his own back, protests when Blaine tries to carry his own duffle bag. He tucks a pair of sunglasses over Blaine’s eyes when he squints in the bright California sun, shuts off the radio when Blaine slides in the the passenger seat of Cooper’s car and even though Kurt and his the rest of his life are 3000 miles away, the warmth and caring of his brother will always be a little bit like home.
-
When the tears have stopped and Kurt’s face feels puffy, he takes Belle out into the backyard, collapses on the porch swing and digs out his phone. He stares at it a moment, worries his lip as he contemplates, before scrolling through his contacts and selecting a number.
“Hi, Kurt!” Rachel answers after a few rings, her voice far too happy for a day like today. “What’s going on? Didn’t Blaine leave today?”
-of all the things she could have said.
“Yeah,” Kurt manages, voice wavering and tight. A sympathetic noise comes through the lines.
“Oh honey,” Rachel says. “Are you okay?”
Kurt sniffs, bites his lip and refuses to cry on the phone, he’s better than this, he’s not going to be reduced to a wibbling mess just because Blaine has been gone for six measly hours.
“I’m just.” He pauses, has to suck in a breath and try and get his voice under control. “I’m just overreacting, it’s silly I know, I just. I just.” He doesn’t know how to finish the sentences. He just feels like he’s going crazy, like Blaine walking away from him and boarding that plane was like having a limb ripped off, like he has no idea how he’s going to make it through ten days of this if he can barely make it through a few hours.
“It’s okay to miss him,” Rachel says with an infuriating understanding.
“I do,” Kurt admits, watches Belle chase after a poor unsuspecting squirrel across the yard. “It’s not just that, its… what if something happens and I’m not there?”
A hum. “Cooper will look out for Blaine, you know that.”
“But he might not know-“
“Kurt,” Rachel cuts him off, voice firm. “You have to start trusting Blaine to be on his own, and you know that Cooper won’t let anything happen to Blaine. He’ll have a great vacation and before you know it he’ll be back. Okay?”
Kurt nods, responds meekly, unable to work up the energy to argue.
“Now. I’m going to make some calls and you’re going to come over to my house and we’re going to treat ourselves, got it?”
“Yeah.” Kurt can only agree, pushes against the ground so the porch swing rocks back and forth slightly, the chain above squeaking.
“Good. See you soon.”
-
The drive through LA is quiet; Blaine falls asleep barely ten minutes after they leave the airport, his head using the seatbelt as an uncomfortable pillow, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Cooper fiddles with the air conditioning the whole drive back, wants to make sure Blaine is comfortable, that he can get as much rest as he can, texts Lauren when they’re stopped at a light to have Blaine’s bed ready for him, they’ll wait for dinner later.
It takes almost an hour to get to Burbank, an accident had traffic going at a pace a snail would scoff at, and Cooper hums to himself, steals occasional glances over at Blaine. He looks tired, his forehead scrunching slightly between his eyebrows and Cooper had been worried about the flight, knows he’ll have to sort through Blaine’s medications when they get home, figure out which ones he needs for a headache.
They pull into the driveway of Cooper’s modest home and Blaine stirs, his eyes cracking open as the engine goes silent.
“Wha-”
“We’re here, squirt,” Cooper says, voice soft, watches as Blaine fumbles with the seatbelt, itches to reach over and help him, but remembers all the phone calls of Blaine complaining about Kurt doing that exact thing. He knows about Blaine’s most recent setback, told by a nervous Kurt who had warned him that Blaine didn’t want him to know, but if Blaine was going to be spending an extended time with him, he needed to. And Cooper was surprised to find he didn’t feel hurt with the knowledge that Blaine had kept this from him, he knows Blaine, knows how he hates to seem weak in front of others, how embarrassed he is by how much help he has needed, knows how he needs to prove to everyone how strong he is. Cooper already knows, doesn’t think he knows anyone as strong as his little brother, and nothing, no matter how many setbacks Blaine might have, could make him think any differently.
They make their way up to Cooper’s house, Blaine squinting against the brightness of the sun, his right side leaning heavily on his cane and Cooper itches to help support him, wraps his fingers tight around Blaine’s duffle bag instead. Lauren’s waiting just inside the front door, her dark hair up in a messy bun, her hands wringing in front of her nervously, a tentative smile on her face.
“Hi Blaine, it’s so great see you again,” she greets, steps forward and wraps her arms around him, envelopes Blaine, his head falling to her shoulders as he mumbles something in return. It’s been nearly two years since she last saw Blaine, when he was still in the hospital and Cooper knows it’s such a shock to see, he still can’t believe it when he looks at his brother, the stark memory of before always pushing it’s way forward, an unpleasant dream that refuses to go away.
And Blaine just melts into her, a soft groan in his throat and she gives Cooper a knowing look, strokes a hand down Blaine’s back and she always did have such a soft spot for him.
“I’ve made the guest room up for you,” she says when they pull back slightly and Blaine is starting to look dazed, his eyes unfocused, taking in the room around him without really seeing anything and Cooper feels a jolt of worry in his stomach. “How does a nap sound?”
Blaine nods, slowly, distantly. She anchors his shoulders, leads him down the hallway and for the first time Cooper’s so grateful their house is only one level, can’t imagine Blaine trying to wrestle stairs right now. The guest room isn’t big, but the bed is comfortable (Cooper knows first hand from the occasional spousal disagreements that he has yet to win), and the closet is big enough to fit Blaine’s stuff for ten days. Lauren has Blaine sit on the edge of the bed, instructs Cooper to close the blinds and find Blaine’s pills and a pair of sweatpants.
“How are you feeling, Birdy?” Lauren asks when Cooper’s digging through Blaine’s bag, using the nickname she’d always loved to tease him with, though Blaine never really seemed to mind.
“Headache,” Blaine mumbles, and Lauren makes a sympathetic noise, starts to gently undo the buttons of Blaine’s shirt. Blaine doesn’t protest, just watches her with sad eyes. When he’s just in his undershirt he stands suddenly, nearly falls over, Lauren making a surprised noise as she catches him, lowers him back onto the bed.
“Where you going in such a hurry?” she asks, tries to keep her voice light and Cooper’s glad one of them has this situation under control, never realized how much he’d relied on Kurt when he would visit, how Kurt would automatically know what to do, how to tell what Blaine needed, knew how to keep him safe.
“You don’t…” Blaine winced, one hand moving up to his head. “I can… my pants.”
Lauren nods, her touch on Blaine’s shoulder gentle, her thumb rubbing a calming circle.
“I know you can,” she says and Cooper can see Blaine relaxing under her hands, knows after years of practicing massage therapy, this just comes naturally to her. This urge, this desire to soothe, to make people relaxed and loose, to ease their pain. “But can I help you out, just this time?”
Blaine gives a short nod, reaches out and holds onto Lauren tightly as she helps him stand, quickly helps him out of his jeans and into the soft sweatpants Cooper had found in his duffle.
“Do you want your pills?” Cooper asks, feeling useless and Lauren guides Blaine back into the bed, situates him under the covers. Blaine shakes his head slowly, looks at Cooper with bleary eyes.
“Sleep it off,” he murmurs and his head falls back onto the pillow like all the energy has been sucked out of him, a rag doll in the shape of his brother. Lauren leans in to kiss his forehead, squeezes his shoulder before turning to leave, giving Cooper a look before she does.
Cooper breathes in. Out.
“Okay.” He puts the pills beside Blaine’s bed along with the bottle of water he’d found in Blaine’s backpack.
“-m sorry.” Barely audible mumbles under the pile of blankets draped over him.
“Sorry for what?” Cooper asks, rests a tentative hand on Blaine’s shoulder, feels Blaine shifting under him.
“Ruined the day.” The pile of blankets moves, Blaine’s eyes blinking tiredly up at him.
“You didn’t ruin anything, squirt,” Cooper tries to reassure, tries to sound sincere and how does Kurt do this, it’s barely been an hour and he feels lost, feels exhausted with it. “I’m going to take a nap too.” He fakes a yawn, loud and obnoxious and Blaine snorts a little.
“Liar.”
“Me? Never,” Cooper smiles, squeeze Blaine’s shoulder lightly. “Get some sleep Blainey bear, I want your batteries recharged.”
“-don’t call me that.” Blaine swats at Cooper’s hand, and Cooper chuckles.
“Love you, little bro,” he says, pauses and gets up to leave, hears Blaine’s faint “love you too” just as he clicks the door shut behind him.
-
Kurt’s on his second glass of wine, a lump on Rachel’s couch, staring at his phone and wondering why Blaine hasn’t called yet when his phone lights up with a call, Cooper’s name flashing on the screen.
“Cooper?” he answers, glances at Rachel on the couch next to him.
“Hey, Kurt.” Cooper’s voice different over the phone, deeper, a note of tiredness to the sound.
“How’s Blaine?” Kurt asks, doesn’t care that he’s skipping over all the formalities of a normal conversation, he’s been living in agonizing anxiety to know if Blaine made it, if he’s okay, how his flight went.
“He’s, um,” Cooper pauses and Kurt feels his stomach bottom out, dread and panic and encompassing worry filling him. “The flight took a lot out of him, I think.”
“Is he okay?” Kurt asks, demands, can’t bear the thought of Blaine being hurt and he can’t even bet here to help him. He trusts Cooper, knows how well-meaning Cooper is, but he just doesn’t understand, he hasn’t been there, hasn’t lived it, doesn’t know what to do.
“He’ll be fine Kurt, don’t worry. He’s just resting now. I think the air pressure changes gave him a headache.” Despite the confidence in Cooper’s voice, he can hear a wavering note of worry.
“Did he take anything, I’m sure I packed all his meds, I could get the doctor to fax a prescription to a pharmacy near…”
“Kurt,” Cooper cuts Kurt off and Kurt huffs, Rachel reaching forward to lay a comforting hand on his knee. “Blaine is okay. I left his meds beside his bed if he wants them. He’s just got a headache, it’s not something I didn’t expect after such a long flight. Lauren and I are taking care of him, you don’t need to worry.”
Kurt closes his eyes, breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth, focuses on the feel of Rachel’s hand, the phone clutched tight in his hand. He wants Blaine so bad it aches, like he’s lost something he needs to survive, a vital organ scooped out from inside.
“Okay,” he manages after a moment. “Well… will you have him call me when he gets up? Please?”
“Of course,” Cooper assures and Kurt feels deflated, empty. They say goodbyes and hang up, Kurt staring at the phone in his hand, feels traitorous tears prick at his eyes.
“Oh honey,” Rachel says, pulls Kurt in close and he doesn’t know why he feels like this, he should be better than this, stronger than this. Blaine hasn’t even been gone a day and he’s falling apart at the seams and it’s pathetic, he knows it is but he can’t help it. He can’t stop it.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice is thready and he tries to swallow past the lump in his throat, winces.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie,” Rachel soothes, pets a hand through Kurt’s hair and normally Kurt would be annoyed with her use of pet names, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. “You miss him, that’s normal after everything you’ve been through.”
“Is it?” Kurt asks with a sniff, focuses on the warmth of Rachel against him, the couch below him, the cool glass of wine clutched in his hand.
“Well, maybe you are a little co-dependent, but it’s only reasonable after how you’ve had to depend on each other for so long.”
Kurt draws away, blinks, stares at Rachel.
“Co-dependent?”
Rachel bites her lip, nods hesitantly.
“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it really,” she looks away, swirls her own glass of wine. “But you are, a little.”
“Wow. I’m so glad I came over here for comfort,” Kurt says, takes a swig of his drink. “You’re giving me warm fuzzies all over.”
“Kurt…” Rachel starts in that voice she gets when she’s trying to make someone understand something very obvious and Kurt is really not in the mood. “I’m just stating a fact. When was the last time you did something you like? Something without Blaine?”
Kurt glares at the coffee table, doesn’t answer.
“I always make sure you’re invited to my after parties, and I know you get my karaoke invitations on facebook, but,” Rachel shrugs, “you never come, because you have to stay home with Blaine.”
Anger fills Kurt, hot and electric and he takes a second to breathe before saying anything he’ll regret.
“I apologize for missing karaoke night,” the word comes out in a hiss and he’s starting to deeply regret ever coming over here. “And that I prioritized the care of my fiancé, who if you don’t remember, has a severe brain injury.”
“I know,” Rachel says softly, voice full of understanding which only seems to make Kurt even more angry. “You’ve been so good at helping him, I know you have. It’s just…” she pauses, chews her lip. “It’s hard to see you like this sometimes. You used to love to do so much and now… I’m worried you’ve forgotten who you are. Not you and Blaine. Just you.”
Kurt’s silent, doesn’t know what to say. As much as he hates Rachel right now, there is something about her words that makes him pause, makes him feel uneasy, stomach churning. He knows he’s missed out on things, on parties and shows and events in his friends’ lives, in his own life, but he never really cared, never let himself care. Because Blaine needed him more, Blaine was missing out on so much and so Kurt would too, he stood beside Blaine and he doesn’t regret it for a moment, but.
But. But Blaine is different now, he can do more, stays home by himself and goes out in public on his own, runs errands and meets up with friends, and even went to a movie without Kurt last week. And Kurt… he doesn’t. He goes to work, comes home, worries about money and appointments and what they should have for dinner and doesn’t give himself a moment to breathe. To think. To be.
He tucks himself into Rachel’s side without another word, closes his eyes and tries not to think.
Maybe Rachel is right.
part b
Rating: PG, (overall NC-17 for the verse)
Warnings: Future fic, brain injuries, allusions to depression and PTSD
Word Count: 8,843
Summary:But, isn't that why he's doing this? Sitting at home, going to group, venturing to the grocery story with Kurt, all the things he does that make him want more, that give him the desire, the need, to do something, to be out on his own, to prove ot the world that he can. To prove to himself.
A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.
Part of the Lovesong verse
AN:As always, a huge thanks to shandyall for being an amazing beta and always helping me to improve my writing. I apologize for how long this has taken me, but school and graduation and life got in the way for a while. You shouldn't have to wait that long again, I promise. This is a two-part chapter as well, it just got to be too monstrous, so look for the next part in a week or so. You guys rock.
Together September 15th, 2018)
Of Hurt and Hope (June 20th, 2018; July 13th, 2018)
A Time of Firsts November 24th, 2018; December 25th, 2018; March 16th, 2019)
To Sleep, To Wake May 7th, 2018)
(fear (June 5th, 2018)
Coffee is a Bitter Drink June 22nd, 2019)
A Father's Eye (April 23rd, 2018; October 19th, 2018; February 15th, 2019; October 12th, 2019 )
Resolution, Evolution November 5th, 2019; December 2nd-3rd, 2019)
(feel) November 16th, 2018)
Resolution, Evolution: a continuatio (December 3rd, 2019)
Shatte (January 23rd, 2019)
Let Me(December 17th, 2019)
Let Me: a continuatio (December 20th, 2019)
Sometimes (a sandwich is all it takes (January 17th, 2019)
And When I Wait, All I See is You May 2nd, 2018; May 9th, 2018)
Hold onto the Sun April 23rd, 2018; June 20th, 2018; February 8th, 2020)
Hold onto the Sun: a continuation February 8th, 2020)
(found (February 19th, 2020; February 28th, 2020)
At the End of the Da (December 4th, 2018)
Slow Dancing April 26th, 2019; September 2nd, 2019; January 6th, 2020)
Each and Every (June 6th, 2018; June 19th, 2018; December 25th, 2018; February 20th, 2019)
Under These Fluorescent Lights (June 1st, 2017; May 13th-15th, 25th 2018; June 1st, 2018)
Bonus Letters blueprint
June 12th, 2020
Friday
Today Blaine gets up before Kurt. He presses a kiss to Kurt’s forehead before sliding out of bed, smiling at the way Kurt hums and snuggles deeper into his pillow, lips parting just slightly. Blaine loves the way Kurt looks just before he wakes up, how relaxed his face is, the bed messed hair that falls across his forehead, the way his lips move like he’s talking to someone in his sleep. He looks peaceful, happy.
Blaine reaches for his cane, not quite stable enough in the early morning to do without it. The door squeaks when he opens it and Blaine curses himself, as he does every morning, for not remembering to oil it, but Kurt doesn’t move, keeps sleeping. Belle jumps up from her bed by the couch, eagerly trots over to him and nudges her head against his legs. He takes a minute to scratch behind her ears before letting her out into the back yard.
He’ll make coffee before his shower, Blaine decides, so that it’s fresh whenever Kurt wakes up. Making coffee isn’t as hard as it used to be, and he never looks once at the directions Kurt taped to the fridge. When the coffee pot starts to sputter to life, Blaine lets Belle back in, makes his way to the bathroom. He sings in the shower, the song happy and upbeat, despite his apprehension for the events of today. The shower chair is only needed at the end, the hot water making his muscles loose and shaky but Blaine doesn’t mind. Not anymore. He knows he needs these things, the bars on the wall, the chair and the extra support. He needs them, but he also knows that he’s strong, that he can do so much without them and that’s what he’s been focusing on. On the improvements, not the setbacks. On doing things that he couldn’t even begin to do without Kurt’s help, before.
Kurt’s still sleeping when Blaine finishes, has cocooned himself in the comforter now that Blaine’s not there to fight back for it. Blaine stays as quiet as he can, wanting Kurt to get his much needed sleep. He’s been stressing about today, Blaine knows, worrying so much he tosses and turns for hours before he finally drifts off. Blaine’s been worried too, but for different reasons than Kurt, and he wants today to go perfectly. Including Kurt getting enough sleep.
Blaine considers the closet, pulls out a pair of dark jeans, a gray striped button up t-shirt, and a dark red cardigan. There are a lot of buttons but he’s determined, wants to look his best today. He shimmies into the jeans, sits on the padded bench Kurt’s arranged near the closet for this very reason. Button up shirts are easier to put on, there’s no wrestling it over his head, but the tiny buttons prove frustrating, his fingers still lacking the fine motor skills to do them up easily. But Blaine bites his lip and powers through, concentrates on each button at a time, only fumbles once, smiles when he pops the last one through. He slides the cardigan on and doesn’t bother to button it, he’ll probably need to take it off later and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself fumbling with the buttons in public.
The outfit isn’t complete without a tie, Blaine decides, and he wants to look his absolute best. He debates between his selection before deciding on the deep navy tie with a vertical red stripe Kurt got him for his birthday a few years ago. He grabs it with slightly trembling fingers, moves to stand in front of the full length mirror, wraps it around his neck. Steeling his jaw, Blaine attempts the pattern he used to know so well, folding over and then under and then looping around and through and… no, the knot falls without resistance. Blaine inhales and tries again. Over, under, through, loop; every time the tie isn’t right, the knot lopsided or backwards or not even a knot at all. He bites back a groan of frustration, staring at himself in the mirror. His hair needs to be gelled down just a tad, the frizz a little too overwhelming today, despite the haircut Kurt had just given him. But he looks good, Blaine thinks, decent at least. At first glance you might not be able to tell that he’s… different, might not see the stiffness of his right arm, the way his right knee doesn’t bend quite as well. Might miss the way the left side of his smile doesn’t reach the right, the way he sometimes still slurs over words.
Except for this stupid tie and Blaine’s about ready to give up, who needs a tie anyways? But then gentle hands are on his, stilling his frantic movements, and he turns his head, Kurt pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, and he didn’t even hear him get up.
“Let me,” Kurt says and Blaine drops his arms to his sides, lets Kurt do up the tie with nimble fingers. Blaine murmurs a quiet thank you, watches Kurt’s face as his brow furrows in concentration, the way his hair is sticking up on one side from sleep, and Blaine marvels in the fact that he gets to see Kurt like this, he’s the only one who sees Kurt ruffled and tired from sleep but still looking as perfect as he always does.
“You look very suave,” Kurt says once he’s tucked the tie inside Blaine’s cardigan, smoothes his hands flat across Blaine’s chest.
“I want to make a good im… um, impression,” Blaine responds, tries to smile at Kurt but it’s hard when his heart is pounding in his chest, nervous and excited all at once.
“You don’t have to make an impression on Cooper.” Kurt tilts his head to the side, like he’s examining Blaine. Blaine just shrugs, tries to appear nonchalant. “I know.”
“Okay,” Kurt says with a smile, leans in to press a kiss to Blaine’s cheek. He glances at the clock. “We have a few hours before we have to leave for the airport, I’m going to hop in the shower, alright?”
“Okay,” Blaine says, and he doesn’t really want Kurt to go, but he’s the one leaving.
-
Kurt showers and Blaine goes through his suitcase. He’s sure he’s forgetting something, and he triple checks the list he made with Kurt: toothbrush (check), pajamas (check), underwear (check), medication (check), swimsuit (check), shaving cream (check), shampoo (check), emergency numbers (check). He has everything, he’s sure of it, but he can’t stop the niggling feeling that there’s still something missing.
But he supposes that Cooper can get him whatever he’s forgotten, and Kurt is very thorough, so he’s sure he’s just being paranoid. He distracts himself by making eggs for Kurt, determined to do at least one useful thing before he leaves. He scrambles them, adds salt and pepper in the way that Kurt likes, dishes them on a plate just in time for Kurt to make his way into the kitchen, hair wrapped in a towel, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.
“Eggs!” Kurt exclaims, a little too enthusiastically and Blaine knows this is hard for him. It’s the first time they’re going to be apart for more than a night since Blaine came home from the hospital, almost three years ago. Blaine doesn’t know what to say, his throat has gone dry, so they sit and they eat and Kurt wraps his foot around Blaine’s calf and maybe it will all be okay.
-
Until they’re at the airport. Blaine can tell Kurt is blinking back tears, his lip caught between his teeth to still it’s quivering. They’ve checked Blaine’s bag, his tickets clutched in his hand and security is looming in front of them, a clicking, blinking symbol of goodbyes.
“I don’t want you to go.” The words are whispered, and Kurt’s looking down at their feet. Blaine swallows, clears his throat, swallows again.
“It’s only ten days,” he says, reaches to tangle his fingers with Kurt’s.
“I know, just, I’ll miss you so much.” His voice cracks in the middle, eyes shining with too many tears.
“I’ll text you and… call you every, um, day. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Kurt gives a shaky laugh, wipes away the few tears that escape.
“Every day?”
“Ten times a day,” Blaine assures, steps forward to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips. “You’ll get sick of me.”
“Not possible,” Kurt returns, wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck and pulls him in close. He sucks in a deep breath, like he wants to memorize this moment, the way Blaine smells and feels and the heat coming off their bodies. Blaine closes his eyes, lets his chin rest on Kurt’s shoulder. “Go show L.A. what it’s been missing,” Kurt whispers, presses another lingering kiss to Blaine’s lips.
“I love you,” Blaine says, clutches tight to Kurt for one more second and then Kurt is turning him around, nudging him towards security.
“I love you too.”
And Blaine leans on his cane, knows if he doesn’t leave now Kurt might never let him go. He looks back once he’s through security, can just see Kurt at the entrance, his cheeks red from tears but a smile on his face. He waves, blows a kiss, and Blaine returns it, turns around and fumbles for his phone.
To Cooper [12:46p] Through security. Can’t wait to see you!!!
Blaine pockets the phone, a smile pulling at his lips and for the first time he’s not nervous. He’s ready.
-
Kurt’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, makes the drive back home from the airport, and tries valiantly not to cry.
He doesn’t succeed.
-
Blaine makes it to his gate with an hour to spare. The airport is busy, people in business suits bustling between the terminals, families dragging tired looking children down the halls, couples taking up too many seats in the terminal. The only open chair is marked with a handicap sign and he’s not about to sit there, not with his cane clutched in his hand, already bringing too much attention to himself. So he wanders around the terminal, browses through a bookstore, buys a small paperback that looks decently interesting, makes a pitstop at the Cinnabon next door and orders the biggest, gooey-est cinnamon roll he sees.
He sends a picture message to Kurt (because while Kurt will grumble about saturated fats and fitting into his slimmest jeans, Blaine know that he has a weakness for anything covered in sweet, sugary glaze) before starting to make his way back to his gate. Once there, he leans against the wall, tucks his cane under his arm, and digs into his cinnamon roll, closes his eyes and almost groans for how good it tastes, decides in a moment of ecstasy that if there’s a reason he’s thankful to still be alive, it’s because of delicious baked goods.
“Blaine?” A voice has him fluttering his eyes back open, glancing around in confusion. “Oh my gosh, Blaine!”
And then he spots the owner of the voice, a tall, dark haired figure moving closer to him from across the hall.
“Mike?” Blaine says, surprised. He quickly closes the Cinnabon box, moves slightly away from the wall.
“Wow, hi,” Mike exclaims when he’s reached Blaine, eyes quickly taking him in and Blaine suddenly feels self conscious, all too aware of the cane gripped tightly in one hand, the stiffness in his arm, the uneven set of his mouth.
“This is a, um, a surprise,” Blaine says, shifts his feet.
“No kidding,” Mike agrees, still smiling in a way Blaine wishes he could return. “Where are you headed to?”
Blaine blinks a moment, feeling slightly off in the conversation, still trying to deal with the surprise of seeing Mike here, in a place where he had expected nothing but complete anonymity. “Um, I’m going to LA. To visit my brother,” Blaine explains, isn’t quite sure where he should be looking, is starting to feel a little uncomfortable under Mike’s careful gaze. “What about you?”
“Oh, I just got off my flight from Chicago, that’s where Tina and I are living now, I don’t know if Kurt told you. I’m just here on some business for a few days.”
“Oh,” Blaine says, nods at Mike’s words, doesn’t know what to say. He can feel his heart starting to race, his nerves heightened and he just doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to interact with anyone anymore, not without Kurt there to draw attention away from him, to give him a break when he can see him faltering.
“Is that Jodi Picoult?” Mike asks, a note of amusement in his voice, points to the paperback tucked under Blaine’s arm. Blaine pulls it out, glances at the cover.
“Uh… yes?” The name does sound familiar, Blaine thinks, can’t place where he’s heard it before.
“Tina’s in love with her books, but I always found them a little contrived,” Mike remarks, pauses. “Are you reading it?”
Blaine glances down at the book, back up at Mike.
“Well I’m not coloring in it.”
Mike’s cheeks turn red, and Blaine knows he must feel embarrassed, knows how unsure Mike must be about talking him, knows how awkward this situation is for both of them.
“How’s Tina?” Blaine tries, wants more than anything for this conversation to be successful, doesn’t want Mike to regret stopping to say hi in the first place.
“She’s pregnant again,” Mike beams, like he’s been holding this information in for too long, his grin so wide Blaine’s not sure it won’t take up whole face. “I found out on Monday.”
“That’s great, Mike,” Blaine says, tries to make it sound sincere while scrambling to remember ever learning they had a first baby. And he wonders how many of his friends’ lives he’s missed out on and forgotten, how many milestones and landmarks his friends have reached and he doesn’t even know. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Mike says, still beaming. “Next time we’re all in New York we’ll have meet up. Rosalyn hasn’t been to the big city yet, but Tina keeps hinting about it.” Mike pauses and Blaine doesn’t know what to say, tries to remember how he made such effortless conversation before, how he used to talk to everyone without hesitation, used to thrive on social interaction, on meeting new people, catching up with old friends, talking to prospective students. He’s not that Blaine anymore, he knows that, but he still feels the loss inside him, an empty, faltering space where his confidence used to be.
“So where’s Kurt?” Mike asks after a silent moment, glancing around. Blaine clears his throat, takes a breath.
“He’s at home,” Blaine answers, words clear and calculated. “I’m going by myself.” He bites his lip, hates how pathetic he just made himself sound, like he’s a kid navigating the real world on his own for the first time.
“That’s great, Blaine,” Mike says, and his smile is genuine. His eyes flicker over Blaine, down to his cane and back. “You look really good, I was in New York when you were, uh, still in the hospital,” this time Mike falters, his smile a little more strained, eyes sad and Blaine wishes he could just sink into the floor and disappear. “You look good,” he repeats, reaches forward to squeeze the top of Blaine’s arm. “I’m so glad to see you’re doing okay.”
Okay is subjective, Blaine thinks but feels bad because Mike is being genuine, he really is glad to see Blaine, is glad to see him doing well, and while Blaine doesn’t really remember it, he knows seeing him in the hospital would have been a shock, something most people don’t like to remember, a memory they don’t want their friends associated with.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, tries to sound earnest because he really does appreciate Mike’s genuine happiness at seeing him, he can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed that it’s something that he needs, that everyone who knew him before will now have something to compare him to, to see his flaws now and tell him how much he’s improved, how good he looks now. Like he should be proud of the fact that he still can’t walk without some sort of support, that he still needs help getting dressed in the morning, that he can’t remember the fact that his friends are now having children. That everyone else’s lives seemed to have progressed so much and his is marked by childish victories. Stagnant.
A metallic voice overhead informs them it’s time for Blaine’s plane to start boarding and Blaine shuffles, makes a gesture towards the gate, feels awkward and out of place.
“Have a good trip, Blaine,” Mike says, leans forward to give Blaine a quick, tight hug and Blaine lets his eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, feels confused by the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“Thanks,” Blaine murmurs, pulls away, takes a step back before pausing. “Good luck, Mike, with, um, with the baby.”
Mikes smiles and nods, tells him “we’ll send you pictures,” and he’s walking away, sending a small wave back in Blaine’s direction. Blaine can’t really wave back, not with a cane in one hand and a Cinnabon box in another so he wiggles a finger and smiles, watches his old friend retreating, moving out of sight.
He turns toward the gate where people have started lining up, anxious hurry onto the plane where they’ll just have to wait again, throws his cinnamon roll in the garbage, and steps into line.
-
On the plane, his seat is small and uncomfortable, and he’s desperately thankful it’s an aisle seat (he had flat out refused for Kurt to book him the handicap accessible seat even though he knew it would make things so much easier, he can’t stand the eyes of people staring at him, questioning why someone so young would need the seat normally reserved for the elderly, examining him and trying to spot the thing that makes him different, unlike everyone else), he pulls out his phone, fingers hovering over his string of texts with Kurt. He thinks about telling him about Mike, about telling him this was a mistake, he’s not ready to face the world on his own. Not yet. But.
But, isn’t that why he’s doing this? Sitting at home, going to group, venturing to the grocery store with Kurt, all the things he does at that make him want more, that give him the desire, the need, to do something, to be out on his own, to prove to the world that he can. To prove to himself.
He locks his phone, shoves it back in his pocket, and settles in.
-
Kurt is not moping. Kurt does not mope. He takes hardships with grace and tact, a life of unending upheavals and difficulties teaching him that moping serves no purpose except to make him feel worse about the situation than he did to begin with and he is in no way…
Kurt threw his ice cream covered spoon on the coffee table and sighed. He was moping. It had barely been four hours since he’d dropped Blaine off at the airport and he was already spiraling into a desolate cave of loneliness and despair and… and how did he expect to survive ten days like this? He wanted to text Blaine, to make sure he was doing okay (which he was, if the picture message of the largest cinnamon roll he’d ever seen was anything to go by), but Blaine would still be in the air, his six hour flight barely half over.
Belle nudged her head against Kurt’s leg, laid her chin on his knee and looked up at him with those wide, understanding eyes that only a dog has.
“Do you miss him already too?” Kurt asks Belle, reaches to scratch behind her floppy ears. “I know this is what he wanted to do, what I wanted him to do but…”
His throat feels tight, and he practices the deep breathing exercises the counselor he’s been seeing (at Blaine’s insistence) taught him to deal with the underlying panic he can’t seem to get rid of.
“I don’t like him being gone,” Kurt manages, his voice wobbly and he feels pathetic but he can’t help it, lets Belle jump up on the couch next to him, hugs her close and cries.
-
Cooper is waiting for Blaine at the gate, his smile wide, his arms waving to get his attention and Blaine falls gratefully against his brother, melts into his side. Six hours is too long to sit on a plane with the air pressure constantly fluctuating and ears that won’t pop no matter how much gum he chews and he can feel a headache blooming behind his eyes, can only bring himself to nod when Cooper asks if he wants to go home and sleep for awhile.
He aches from missing Kurt, from the never ending flight, but Cooper slings Blaine’s backpack onto his own back, protests when Blaine tries to carry his own duffle bag. He tucks a pair of sunglasses over Blaine’s eyes when he squints in the bright California sun, shuts off the radio when Blaine slides in the the passenger seat of Cooper’s car and even though Kurt and his the rest of his life are 3000 miles away, the warmth and caring of his brother will always be a little bit like home.
-
When the tears have stopped and Kurt’s face feels puffy, he takes Belle out into the backyard, collapses on the porch swing and digs out his phone. He stares at it a moment, worries his lip as he contemplates, before scrolling through his contacts and selecting a number.
“Hi, Kurt!” Rachel answers after a few rings, her voice far too happy for a day like today. “What’s going on? Didn’t Blaine leave today?”
-of all the things she could have said.
“Yeah,” Kurt manages, voice wavering and tight. A sympathetic noise comes through the lines.
“Oh honey,” Rachel says. “Are you okay?”
Kurt sniffs, bites his lip and refuses to cry on the phone, he’s better than this, he’s not going to be reduced to a wibbling mess just because Blaine has been gone for six measly hours.
“I’m just.” He pauses, has to suck in a breath and try and get his voice under control. “I’m just overreacting, it’s silly I know, I just. I just.” He doesn’t know how to finish the sentences. He just feels like he’s going crazy, like Blaine walking away from him and boarding that plane was like having a limb ripped off, like he has no idea how he’s going to make it through ten days of this if he can barely make it through a few hours.
“It’s okay to miss him,” Rachel says with an infuriating understanding.
“I do,” Kurt admits, watches Belle chase after a poor unsuspecting squirrel across the yard. “It’s not just that, its… what if something happens and I’m not there?”
A hum. “Cooper will look out for Blaine, you know that.”
“But he might not know-“
“Kurt,” Rachel cuts him off, voice firm. “You have to start trusting Blaine to be on his own, and you know that Cooper won’t let anything happen to Blaine. He’ll have a great vacation and before you know it he’ll be back. Okay?”
Kurt nods, responds meekly, unable to work up the energy to argue.
“Now. I’m going to make some calls and you’re going to come over to my house and we’re going to treat ourselves, got it?”
“Yeah.” Kurt can only agree, pushes against the ground so the porch swing rocks back and forth slightly, the chain above squeaking.
“Good. See you soon.”
-
The drive through LA is quiet; Blaine falls asleep barely ten minutes after they leave the airport, his head using the seatbelt as an uncomfortable pillow, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Cooper fiddles with the air conditioning the whole drive back, wants to make sure Blaine is comfortable, that he can get as much rest as he can, texts Lauren when they’re stopped at a light to have Blaine’s bed ready for him, they’ll wait for dinner later.
It takes almost an hour to get to Burbank, an accident had traffic going at a pace a snail would scoff at, and Cooper hums to himself, steals occasional glances over at Blaine. He looks tired, his forehead scrunching slightly between his eyebrows and Cooper had been worried about the flight, knows he’ll have to sort through Blaine’s medications when they get home, figure out which ones he needs for a headache.
They pull into the driveway of Cooper’s modest home and Blaine stirs, his eyes cracking open as the engine goes silent.
“Wha-”
“We’re here, squirt,” Cooper says, voice soft, watches as Blaine fumbles with the seatbelt, itches to reach over and help him, but remembers all the phone calls of Blaine complaining about Kurt doing that exact thing. He knows about Blaine’s most recent setback, told by a nervous Kurt who had warned him that Blaine didn’t want him to know, but if Blaine was going to be spending an extended time with him, he needed to. And Cooper was surprised to find he didn’t feel hurt with the knowledge that Blaine had kept this from him, he knows Blaine, knows how he hates to seem weak in front of others, how embarrassed he is by how much help he has needed, knows how he needs to prove to everyone how strong he is. Cooper already knows, doesn’t think he knows anyone as strong as his little brother, and nothing, no matter how many setbacks Blaine might have, could make him think any differently.
They make their way up to Cooper’s house, Blaine squinting against the brightness of the sun, his right side leaning heavily on his cane and Cooper itches to help support him, wraps his fingers tight around Blaine’s duffle bag instead. Lauren’s waiting just inside the front door, her dark hair up in a messy bun, her hands wringing in front of her nervously, a tentative smile on her face.
“Hi Blaine, it’s so great see you again,” she greets, steps forward and wraps her arms around him, envelopes Blaine, his head falling to her shoulders as he mumbles something in return. It’s been nearly two years since she last saw Blaine, when he was still in the hospital and Cooper knows it’s such a shock to see, he still can’t believe it when he looks at his brother, the stark memory of before always pushing it’s way forward, an unpleasant dream that refuses to go away.
And Blaine just melts into her, a soft groan in his throat and she gives Cooper a knowing look, strokes a hand down Blaine’s back and she always did have such a soft spot for him.
“I’ve made the guest room up for you,” she says when they pull back slightly and Blaine is starting to look dazed, his eyes unfocused, taking in the room around him without really seeing anything and Cooper feels a jolt of worry in his stomach. “How does a nap sound?”
Blaine nods, slowly, distantly. She anchors his shoulders, leads him down the hallway and for the first time Cooper’s so grateful their house is only one level, can’t imagine Blaine trying to wrestle stairs right now. The guest room isn’t big, but the bed is comfortable (Cooper knows first hand from the occasional spousal disagreements that he has yet to win), and the closet is big enough to fit Blaine’s stuff for ten days. Lauren has Blaine sit on the edge of the bed, instructs Cooper to close the blinds and find Blaine’s pills and a pair of sweatpants.
“How are you feeling, Birdy?” Lauren asks when Cooper’s digging through Blaine’s bag, using the nickname she’d always loved to tease him with, though Blaine never really seemed to mind.
“Headache,” Blaine mumbles, and Lauren makes a sympathetic noise, starts to gently undo the buttons of Blaine’s shirt. Blaine doesn’t protest, just watches her with sad eyes. When he’s just in his undershirt he stands suddenly, nearly falls over, Lauren making a surprised noise as she catches him, lowers him back onto the bed.
“Where you going in such a hurry?” she asks, tries to keep her voice light and Cooper’s glad one of them has this situation under control, never realized how much he’d relied on Kurt when he would visit, how Kurt would automatically know what to do, how to tell what Blaine needed, knew how to keep him safe.
“You don’t…” Blaine winced, one hand moving up to his head. “I can… my pants.”
Lauren nods, her touch on Blaine’s shoulder gentle, her thumb rubbing a calming circle.
“I know you can,” she says and Cooper can see Blaine relaxing under her hands, knows after years of practicing massage therapy, this just comes naturally to her. This urge, this desire to soothe, to make people relaxed and loose, to ease their pain. “But can I help you out, just this time?”
Blaine gives a short nod, reaches out and holds onto Lauren tightly as she helps him stand, quickly helps him out of his jeans and into the soft sweatpants Cooper had found in his duffle.
“Do you want your pills?” Cooper asks, feeling useless and Lauren guides Blaine back into the bed, situates him under the covers. Blaine shakes his head slowly, looks at Cooper with bleary eyes.
“Sleep it off,” he murmurs and his head falls back onto the pillow like all the energy has been sucked out of him, a rag doll in the shape of his brother. Lauren leans in to kiss his forehead, squeezes his shoulder before turning to leave, giving Cooper a look before she does.
Cooper breathes in. Out.
“Okay.” He puts the pills beside Blaine’s bed along with the bottle of water he’d found in Blaine’s backpack.
“-m sorry.” Barely audible mumbles under the pile of blankets draped over him.
“Sorry for what?” Cooper asks, rests a tentative hand on Blaine’s shoulder, feels Blaine shifting under him.
“Ruined the day.” The pile of blankets moves, Blaine’s eyes blinking tiredly up at him.
“You didn’t ruin anything, squirt,” Cooper tries to reassure, tries to sound sincere and how does Kurt do this, it’s barely been an hour and he feels lost, feels exhausted with it. “I’m going to take a nap too.” He fakes a yawn, loud and obnoxious and Blaine snorts a little.
“Liar.”
“Me? Never,” Cooper smiles, squeeze Blaine’s shoulder lightly. “Get some sleep Blainey bear, I want your batteries recharged.”
“-don’t call me that.” Blaine swats at Cooper’s hand, and Cooper chuckles.
“Love you, little bro,” he says, pauses and gets up to leave, hears Blaine’s faint “love you too” just as he clicks the door shut behind him.
-
Kurt’s on his second glass of wine, a lump on Rachel’s couch, staring at his phone and wondering why Blaine hasn’t called yet when his phone lights up with a call, Cooper’s name flashing on the screen.
“Cooper?” he answers, glances at Rachel on the couch next to him.
“Hey, Kurt.” Cooper’s voice different over the phone, deeper, a note of tiredness to the sound.
“How’s Blaine?” Kurt asks, doesn’t care that he’s skipping over all the formalities of a normal conversation, he’s been living in agonizing anxiety to know if Blaine made it, if he’s okay, how his flight went.
“He’s, um,” Cooper pauses and Kurt feels his stomach bottom out, dread and panic and encompassing worry filling him. “The flight took a lot out of him, I think.”
“Is he okay?” Kurt asks, demands, can’t bear the thought of Blaine being hurt and he can’t even bet here to help him. He trusts Cooper, knows how well-meaning Cooper is, but he just doesn’t understand, he hasn’t been there, hasn’t lived it, doesn’t know what to do.
“He’ll be fine Kurt, don’t worry. He’s just resting now. I think the air pressure changes gave him a headache.” Despite the confidence in Cooper’s voice, he can hear a wavering note of worry.
“Did he take anything, I’m sure I packed all his meds, I could get the doctor to fax a prescription to a pharmacy near…”
“Kurt,” Cooper cuts Kurt off and Kurt huffs, Rachel reaching forward to lay a comforting hand on his knee. “Blaine is okay. I left his meds beside his bed if he wants them. He’s just got a headache, it’s not something I didn’t expect after such a long flight. Lauren and I are taking care of him, you don’t need to worry.”
Kurt closes his eyes, breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth, focuses on the feel of Rachel’s hand, the phone clutched tight in his hand. He wants Blaine so bad it aches, like he’s lost something he needs to survive, a vital organ scooped out from inside.
“Okay,” he manages after a moment. “Well… will you have him call me when he gets up? Please?”
“Of course,” Cooper assures and Kurt feels deflated, empty. They say goodbyes and hang up, Kurt staring at the phone in his hand, feels traitorous tears prick at his eyes.
“Oh honey,” Rachel says, pulls Kurt in close and he doesn’t know why he feels like this, he should be better than this, stronger than this. Blaine hasn’t even been gone a day and he’s falling apart at the seams and it’s pathetic, he knows it is but he can’t help it. He can’t stop it.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice is thready and he tries to swallow past the lump in his throat, winces.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie,” Rachel soothes, pets a hand through Kurt’s hair and normally Kurt would be annoyed with her use of pet names, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. “You miss him, that’s normal after everything you’ve been through.”
“Is it?” Kurt asks with a sniff, focuses on the warmth of Rachel against him, the couch below him, the cool glass of wine clutched in his hand.
“Well, maybe you are a little co-dependent, but it’s only reasonable after how you’ve had to depend on each other for so long.”
Kurt draws away, blinks, stares at Rachel.
“Co-dependent?”
Rachel bites her lip, nods hesitantly.
“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it really,” she looks away, swirls her own glass of wine. “But you are, a little.”
“Wow. I’m so glad I came over here for comfort,” Kurt says, takes a swig of his drink. “You’re giving me warm fuzzies all over.”
“Kurt…” Rachel starts in that voice she gets when she’s trying to make someone understand something very obvious and Kurt is really not in the mood. “I’m just stating a fact. When was the last time you did something you like? Something without Blaine?”
Kurt glares at the coffee table, doesn’t answer.
“I always make sure you’re invited to my after parties, and I know you get my karaoke invitations on facebook, but,” Rachel shrugs, “you never come, because you have to stay home with Blaine.”
Anger fills Kurt, hot and electric and he takes a second to breathe before saying anything he’ll regret.
“I apologize for missing karaoke night,” the word comes out in a hiss and he’s starting to deeply regret ever coming over here. “And that I prioritized the care of my fiancé, who if you don’t remember, has a severe brain injury.”
“I know,” Rachel says softly, voice full of understanding which only seems to make Kurt even more angry. “You’ve been so good at helping him, I know you have. It’s just…” she pauses, chews her lip. “It’s hard to see you like this sometimes. You used to love to do so much and now… I’m worried you’ve forgotten who you are. Not you and Blaine. Just you.”
Kurt’s silent, doesn’t know what to say. As much as he hates Rachel right now, there is something about her words that makes him pause, makes him feel uneasy, stomach churning. He knows he’s missed out on things, on parties and shows and events in his friends’ lives, in his own life, but he never really cared, never let himself care. Because Blaine needed him more, Blaine was missing out on so much and so Kurt would too, he stood beside Blaine and he doesn’t regret it for a moment, but.
But. But Blaine is different now, he can do more, stays home by himself and goes out in public on his own, runs errands and meets up with friends, and even went to a movie without Kurt last week. And Kurt… he doesn’t. He goes to work, comes home, worries about money and appointments and what they should have for dinner and doesn’t give himself a moment to breathe. To think. To be.
He tucks himself into Rachel’s side without another word, closes his eyes and tries not to think.
Maybe Rachel is right.
part b