fic: Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn minds): part 1 (b)
AN: of course you wouldn't let me post this all in one go, livejournal, that would be too easy *rages*
Saturday, June 13th
The room is lit with the dim glow of early morning when Blaine’s eyes blink open. His head feels fuzzy with the remnants of a headache and too much sleep; he stretches his arms above his head and groans, tries to figure out where he is. The room isn’t familiar, the walls a rich purple, thick red curtains over the windows, warm and cozy. He squints, spots his duffle bag in the corner, remembers an airplane, a goodbye, the feeling of Cooper warm against him. Cooper. LA. Burbank.
Blaine can barely repress his grin as he remembers, wiggles himself out from under the covers, finds his footing on the cool hardwood floor. The hall outside his room is dark and Blaine wonders if it’s still too early for anyone else to be awake yet but he knows there’s no point in trying to fall back asleep now, so he makes his way out of the room.
After using the bathroom he found behind the first door on the right, he walks down the hallway, on hand trailing on the wall for balance until he finds himself in what he presumes to be the living room. He knows he was here yesterday but his memories feel hazy in the way they always do after a migraine. The room is nice, green plants hanging from the corners, vines spilling down the walls, cozy mismatched couches and a plush carpet taking up the space, a TV in one corner, an ornate vase in the other, a yoga mat nestled inside it. Blaine knows Kurt would find the whole thing a little too Bohemian-chic, but he smiles, thinks it feels nice. Comfortable and warm.
He shuffles towards the kitchen, pauses to stare into a large tank, layered with dirt and filled with foliage, a large green chameleon staring out at him, unblinking.
“Huh.” Blaine rests his fingers on the tank. “Hi, Mr. Lizard. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s a girl actually,” Cooper says from behind Blaine and Blaine turns his head, smiles at his brother. “Her name’s Karma.”
“Hi, Karma.” Blaine turns back to look at the lizard, gives her a little wave. He wonders what Kurt would think about having a pet lizard, certainly he wouldn’t complain about hair all over his clothes like he does with Belle.
“How’d you sleep?” Cooper asks, and Blaine can hear the double meaning in the question, the are you okay hidden in the words.
“Great,” Blaine assures, standing straight and smiling back at Cooper. He has a cup of coffee clutched in his hands, his hair messy and Blaine raises a pointed eyebrow. “Coffee?”
Cooper laughs, motions for Blaine to follow him. They move into the kitchen, Blaine taking a seat at the table while Cooper pours him a cup of coffee, hesitates with the cream in his hand. Blaine nods and Cooper adds a generous amount, sloshes some over the side as he brings it back to Blaine.
“This is a nice place,” Blaine observes, taking a sip of his coffee. Cooper beams.
“Thank you.” Cooper leans back in his chair and Blaine feels content, he’s not at home but he feels safe, somewhere new giving him energy, making him feel vibrant and alive. “It’s all Lauren, she won’t let me do anything that involves any sort of decorating. She says I have no taste.” Cooper shrugs. “I did buy that plant though.”
He points across the room and Blaine frowns. “The dead one?”
“Uh, yeah,” Cooper looks sheepish, takes a drink of his coffee. “So, little bro, have anything special in mind while you’re here? If not, don’t fear, I’m a fantastic tour guide.”
Blaine smiles down at his coffee. “Just the, um, the usual I guess. Hollywood Boul…Boulevard, Universal Studios, um, shopping? Oh, and I heard about this, um, this place, a, uh, a record store… Atomic Records? It’s supposed to be the best and Kurt gave me a rec…” a breath, collect thoughts, “a record player for my birthday this year.” A strong finish, Blaine feels proud of himself, so many words and very little faltering.
“Atomic Records?” Cooper sounds impressed. “That’s right here in Burbank. You did your research.”
Blaine smiles, sips at his coffee, takes extra care not to spill, to coordinate his movements as much as he can. Cooper gets up to make them breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast, easy conversation between them, Cooper telling Blaine about work (he’d landed a role in a soap opera as a doctor with repressed memories and a foot fetish and Blaine finds the whole thing confusing, but he smiles and nods and tries to be supportive anyways), about Lauren’s new job in a spa for burgeoning celebrities, about the increasing price of chameleon food and Blaine starts to tune out, Cooper’s chatter a comforting background noise. He thinks about New York, about airplanes and how can anyone really expect to be comfortable in those tiny seats, about Mike and his own apparent lack of social skills, the embarrassment fading as time wedges itself between then and now.
Maybe this will be good for him, he thinks, stirs more cream in the coffee Cooper refilled. Maybe he does need to get away for awhile, to do his own thing and learn to be on his own. He loves Kurt, loves him more than he even knows how to explain, but he’s always there, always taking charge and helping Blaine more than Blaine really needs and how is he supposed to learn to do things on his own if he never gets the chance? How is he supposed to interact with old friends, to make new friends, to start going to work and actually living his life if he can’t even hold a simple conversation, if he’s always looking for Kurt to come rescue him?
Yes, he decides with a sense of finality. This is a good thing.
-
Kurt spends the morning staring at the empty half of the bed, the covers neatly made and barely disturbed in Kurt’s sleep. Kurt doesn’t like waking up alone, he decides. His eyes feel weighted, slightly dazed, he’d tossed and turned all night, couldn’t get comfortable, too aware of the empty space next to him.
He rolls out of bed in the morning and thinks of Blaine, showers methodically and thinks of Blaine, slowly drinks his coffee and thinks of Blaine. He wonders what Blaine’s doing, if he slept okay, if he still had a headache, if it’s too early to try and call him. He wonders if Blaine’s having as hard a time as he is, if Coopers being a better support system than Rachel.
He wonders if maybe he really does need help.
Co-dependent. The word rings in his head and he shakes his head. “Stop.” The words fall flat, Belle cocking her head to look at him curiously. He looks back at her, pats her nose. “I think I’m falling apart.”
And then, almost as if in answer, his phone lights up with a call, a picture of Blaine on his birthday, smiling next to his cake, flashing onto the screen.
“Hey,” he answers, forces himself to smile, to pretend everything is fine, that he’s not suffering his own version of a quarter-life crisis.
“Hi,” Blaine answers back, and god, he sounds happy. “Sorry I didn’t call yesterday.”
“It’s fine,” Kurt says quickly, digs his fingers into the couch cushions next to him. “Cooper called me, how’s your head?”
“It’s good,” Blaine says and Kurt knows he’s telling the truth, Blaine never was good at pretending to be anything that he’s not. “I think the flight wore me out.”
“How was the flight?” Kurt asks, leans back into the couch and closes his eyes, focuses on the sound of Blaine’s voice.
“Fine,” Blaine answers and his voice muffles, Kurt can hear him talking away from the phone, probably to Cooper. “It wasn’t bad, just, uh, long. Cooper’s taking me to a record store to… today.”
“The one you’ve been talking about?” Kurt asks, knows how excited Blaine’s been about this store; he’d taken a recent obsession to finding obscure records since Kurt got him that record player for his birthday.
“Yeah,” Blaine says excitedly. “And tomorrow we’re going to, to Universal Studios!”
“That’s great, Blaine,” Kurt says, looks up at the ceiling and wills himself not to cry. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Yeah,” Blaine says, pauses. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Kurt says, thinks co-dependent. “Just… send me some pictures, okay?”
“I will,” Blaine promises. After they hang up, Kurt stares at his phone, looks over to Belle who nudges her head against his leg.
“I think Rachel might be right,” he says, reaches forward to pet Belle’s head. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
Sunday
The sand is hot, the kind of hot that makes you hurry to your sandals, that leaves the bottom of your feet feeling scorched and tender. But Blaine barely even notices, lays stretched out on his towel, feels his skin soaking up the hot rays of sun, sees red through his closed eyelids. There’s a noise and a laugh and Blaine squints open one eye, sees Cooper above him with his phone.
“Did you just take a picture?” Blaine asks, frowns.
“Well Kurt wanted you to take pictures, didn’t he?” Cooper points out, flopping onto the towel beside Blaine. “And I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean of the scenery.”
Blaine snorts and rolls over, props himself up on his elbows and snatches for his phone. Cooper’s already sent a picture message to Kurt, followed by a winky face.
Sorry, Cooper stole my phone, Blaine types out and sends, pauses a moment. But enjoy the picture :)
He’s not used to this, being so far from Kurt, sending him messages with the knowledge that he’s not going to see him that evening, not going to be there when Kurt gets home from work, not going to be there to walk Belle with him as the sun sets, to fall into bed together, lazy and pliant and cuddly.
Wish I could be there, the text from Kurt comes back and Blaine strokes his finger across the screen, gives a sad smile. He doesn’t know how Kurt’s doing, but he hopes he’s okay, that he’s keeping himself busy, maybe reconnecting with some friends, doing all the things he hasn’t gotten to do lately.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Cooper’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Blaine squints up at him.
“What?”
Cooper shrugs. “You look like you’re trying to solve world hunger or something.”
“Oh.” Blaine looks down, traces a line in the hot sand. “Just thinking about Kurt.”
“Anything PG you want to talk about?” Cooper asks, flops onto his belly beside Blaine, draws a smiley face in the san beside Blaine’s line. Blaine adds two oversized ears to the face.
“There, now it’s you.”
“Shut up,” Cooper laughs, messes up the sand so the face is gone. A pause, Blaine stares into the sand.
“Do you think he’s going to resent me?”
“Who, Kurt?” Cooper looks at Blaine like he’s gone crazy. Blaine doesn’t say anything for a moment.
“I mean, not now but… when he’s older? Because… because I made him miss out on, on so much?”
“Blaine…” Cooper starts, turns to lay on his side. “I don’t think Kurt sees it that way, he likes helping you.”
“I just…” Blaine huffs, wishes his brain would hurry up and let him string together a coherent sentence. “I feel bad. He doesn’t do the things he used to anymore and…” Blaine sucks in a breath, wonders why he suddenly feels so stupidly emotional. “I’m worried he’s going to regret it.”
“Oh Blaine,” Cooper says, smiles softly at him. “I don’t think Kurt’s physically capable of regretting anything about you. I think the only thing he would regret is if he hadn’t spent the last few years with you.”
“I wish he never had to.” The words are small, a whispered truth and Blaine rarely lets himself think in what ifs, rarely lets himself imagine a different past, because he knows if he starts he’ll never stop and it hurts too much.
“So do I, Blainey bear,” Cooper says, reaches forward to ruffles Blaine’s hair. This time Blaine doesn’t bat him away. “We all do.”
Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat, blinks back the tears that have gathered against his will, pushes himself up, forces himself to stop thinking.
“Can we make a sand castle?” he asks and Cooper sits up beside him, nudges his shoulder.
“Of course.”
-
Chinese takeout containers cool on the coffee table, long forgotten. Kurt sits slumped on the couch, a tub of ice cream balanced on his lap, stares blankly at the TV, his movie long since ended and a soap opera dramatically acting on the screen. Kurt blinks, gives an empty laugh. It’s Cooper’s soap opera, he realizes, shakes his head at the sight of Cooper pointing at something in the distance. Figures.
He tries not to think about his phone, sitting silent on the table. Blaine’s texted him a few times, from the beach, the record store, a picture of him standing next to a palm tree. But there’s a long delay between replies, his messages sounding half thought out and hurried, like he’s so busy he doesn’t have the time. And Kurt knows this is why he went, he needs this trip, needs to get out of the house and do things, needs to spend time with his brother and explore the world, he hasn’t gotten to go anywhere except Ohio in the last two years and Kurt really his happy for him, it’s just.
Just. He doesn’t know why he can’t cope like a normal person, why he feels like his whole world is falling apart just because Blaine isn’t here. Co-dependent. He hates that stupid word, hates the truth he knows lies inside it. Blaine needed him for so long, depended and relied on Kurt’s help, Kurt’s love, Kurt always being by his side and now… now he doesn’t. Not really. But Kurt does, needs Blaine’s smile in the morning, needs Blaine’s warm body beside him at night when he wakes up from nightmares, needs to know he’s okay, he’s whole, nothing else has happened.
They’re getting worse. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the fear of walking outside at night so intense he leaves work early just to make it home before dark. It’s so frustrating Kurt wants to scream because time is supposed to make these things better, memories of that night should fade and leave him alone. Blaine’s getting better, every day he smiles and fills himself with the vibrance of too much life missed, and so why can’t Kurt?
It’s not fair, he decides, crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not fair and he wants to change, wants to just be happy again, to be able to go out with his friends without feeling like he can’t breathe, to enjoy going into work, to go into a mall without worrying about Blaine, without worrying about all the people pressed around and what if one of them is there, one of the men responsible for hurting Blaine and it fills his head, constricts him like a too tight blanket and…
Breathe.
Again.
Kurt sucks in a breath, feels the couch solid under him, the damp cold on his cheeks, reminds himself that he’s at home, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s home.
He looks down at Belle, curled up beside the couch, over at his phone, still dark, and decides.
Something has to change.
part two
Saturday, June 13th
The room is lit with the dim glow of early morning when Blaine’s eyes blink open. His head feels fuzzy with the remnants of a headache and too much sleep; he stretches his arms above his head and groans, tries to figure out where he is. The room isn’t familiar, the walls a rich purple, thick red curtains over the windows, warm and cozy. He squints, spots his duffle bag in the corner, remembers an airplane, a goodbye, the feeling of Cooper warm against him. Cooper. LA. Burbank.
Blaine can barely repress his grin as he remembers, wiggles himself out from under the covers, finds his footing on the cool hardwood floor. The hall outside his room is dark and Blaine wonders if it’s still too early for anyone else to be awake yet but he knows there’s no point in trying to fall back asleep now, so he makes his way out of the room.
After using the bathroom he found behind the first door on the right, he walks down the hallway, on hand trailing on the wall for balance until he finds himself in what he presumes to be the living room. He knows he was here yesterday but his memories feel hazy in the way they always do after a migraine. The room is nice, green plants hanging from the corners, vines spilling down the walls, cozy mismatched couches and a plush carpet taking up the space, a TV in one corner, an ornate vase in the other, a yoga mat nestled inside it. Blaine knows Kurt would find the whole thing a little too Bohemian-chic, but he smiles, thinks it feels nice. Comfortable and warm.
He shuffles towards the kitchen, pauses to stare into a large tank, layered with dirt and filled with foliage, a large green chameleon staring out at him, unblinking.
“Huh.” Blaine rests his fingers on the tank. “Hi, Mr. Lizard. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s a girl actually,” Cooper says from behind Blaine and Blaine turns his head, smiles at his brother. “Her name’s Karma.”
“Hi, Karma.” Blaine turns back to look at the lizard, gives her a little wave. He wonders what Kurt would think about having a pet lizard, certainly he wouldn’t complain about hair all over his clothes like he does with Belle.
“How’d you sleep?” Cooper asks, and Blaine can hear the double meaning in the question, the are you okay hidden in the words.
“Great,” Blaine assures, standing straight and smiling back at Cooper. He has a cup of coffee clutched in his hands, his hair messy and Blaine raises a pointed eyebrow. “Coffee?”
Cooper laughs, motions for Blaine to follow him. They move into the kitchen, Blaine taking a seat at the table while Cooper pours him a cup of coffee, hesitates with the cream in his hand. Blaine nods and Cooper adds a generous amount, sloshes some over the side as he brings it back to Blaine.
“This is a nice place,” Blaine observes, taking a sip of his coffee. Cooper beams.
“Thank you.” Cooper leans back in his chair and Blaine feels content, he’s not at home but he feels safe, somewhere new giving him energy, making him feel vibrant and alive. “It’s all Lauren, she won’t let me do anything that involves any sort of decorating. She says I have no taste.” Cooper shrugs. “I did buy that plant though.”
He points across the room and Blaine frowns. “The dead one?”
“Uh, yeah,” Cooper looks sheepish, takes a drink of his coffee. “So, little bro, have anything special in mind while you’re here? If not, don’t fear, I’m a fantastic tour guide.”
Blaine smiles down at his coffee. “Just the, um, the usual I guess. Hollywood Boul…Boulevard, Universal Studios, um, shopping? Oh, and I heard about this, um, this place, a, uh, a record store… Atomic Records? It’s supposed to be the best and Kurt gave me a rec…” a breath, collect thoughts, “a record player for my birthday this year.” A strong finish, Blaine feels proud of himself, so many words and very little faltering.
“Atomic Records?” Cooper sounds impressed. “That’s right here in Burbank. You did your research.”
Blaine smiles, sips at his coffee, takes extra care not to spill, to coordinate his movements as much as he can. Cooper gets up to make them breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast, easy conversation between them, Cooper telling Blaine about work (he’d landed a role in a soap opera as a doctor with repressed memories and a foot fetish and Blaine finds the whole thing confusing, but he smiles and nods and tries to be supportive anyways), about Lauren’s new job in a spa for burgeoning celebrities, about the increasing price of chameleon food and Blaine starts to tune out, Cooper’s chatter a comforting background noise. He thinks about New York, about airplanes and how can anyone really expect to be comfortable in those tiny seats, about Mike and his own apparent lack of social skills, the embarrassment fading as time wedges itself between then and now.
Maybe this will be good for him, he thinks, stirs more cream in the coffee Cooper refilled. Maybe he does need to get away for awhile, to do his own thing and learn to be on his own. He loves Kurt, loves him more than he even knows how to explain, but he’s always there, always taking charge and helping Blaine more than Blaine really needs and how is he supposed to learn to do things on his own if he never gets the chance? How is he supposed to interact with old friends, to make new friends, to start going to work and actually living his life if he can’t even hold a simple conversation, if he’s always looking for Kurt to come rescue him?
Yes, he decides with a sense of finality. This is a good thing.
-
Kurt spends the morning staring at the empty half of the bed, the covers neatly made and barely disturbed in Kurt’s sleep. Kurt doesn’t like waking up alone, he decides. His eyes feel weighted, slightly dazed, he’d tossed and turned all night, couldn’t get comfortable, too aware of the empty space next to him.
He rolls out of bed in the morning and thinks of Blaine, showers methodically and thinks of Blaine, slowly drinks his coffee and thinks of Blaine. He wonders what Blaine’s doing, if he slept okay, if he still had a headache, if it’s too early to try and call him. He wonders if Blaine’s having as hard a time as he is, if Coopers being a better support system than Rachel.
He wonders if maybe he really does need help.
Co-dependent. The word rings in his head and he shakes his head. “Stop.” The words fall flat, Belle cocking her head to look at him curiously. He looks back at her, pats her nose. “I think I’m falling apart.”
And then, almost as if in answer, his phone lights up with a call, a picture of Blaine on his birthday, smiling next to his cake, flashing onto the screen.
“Hey,” he answers, forces himself to smile, to pretend everything is fine, that he’s not suffering his own version of a quarter-life crisis.
“Hi,” Blaine answers back, and god, he sounds happy. “Sorry I didn’t call yesterday.”
“It’s fine,” Kurt says quickly, digs his fingers into the couch cushions next to him. “Cooper called me, how’s your head?”
“It’s good,” Blaine says and Kurt knows he’s telling the truth, Blaine never was good at pretending to be anything that he’s not. “I think the flight wore me out.”
“How was the flight?” Kurt asks, leans back into the couch and closes his eyes, focuses on the sound of Blaine’s voice.
“Fine,” Blaine answers and his voice muffles, Kurt can hear him talking away from the phone, probably to Cooper. “It wasn’t bad, just, uh, long. Cooper’s taking me to a record store to… today.”
“The one you’ve been talking about?” Kurt asks, knows how excited Blaine’s been about this store; he’d taken a recent obsession to finding obscure records since Kurt got him that record player for his birthday.
“Yeah,” Blaine says excitedly. “And tomorrow we’re going to, to Universal Studios!”
“That’s great, Blaine,” Kurt says, looks up at the ceiling and wills himself not to cry. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Yeah,” Blaine says, pauses. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Kurt says, thinks co-dependent. “Just… send me some pictures, okay?”
“I will,” Blaine promises. After they hang up, Kurt stares at his phone, looks over to Belle who nudges her head against his leg.
“I think Rachel might be right,” he says, reaches forward to pet Belle’s head. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
Sunday
The sand is hot, the kind of hot that makes you hurry to your sandals, that leaves the bottom of your feet feeling scorched and tender. But Blaine barely even notices, lays stretched out on his towel, feels his skin soaking up the hot rays of sun, sees red through his closed eyelids. There’s a noise and a laugh and Blaine squints open one eye, sees Cooper above him with his phone.
“Did you just take a picture?” Blaine asks, frowns.
“Well Kurt wanted you to take pictures, didn’t he?” Cooper points out, flopping onto the towel beside Blaine. “And I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean of the scenery.”
Blaine snorts and rolls over, props himself up on his elbows and snatches for his phone. Cooper’s already sent a picture message to Kurt, followed by a winky face.
Sorry, Cooper stole my phone, Blaine types out and sends, pauses a moment. But enjoy the picture :)
He’s not used to this, being so far from Kurt, sending him messages with the knowledge that he’s not going to see him that evening, not going to be there when Kurt gets home from work, not going to be there to walk Belle with him as the sun sets, to fall into bed together, lazy and pliant and cuddly.
Wish I could be there, the text from Kurt comes back and Blaine strokes his finger across the screen, gives a sad smile. He doesn’t know how Kurt’s doing, but he hopes he’s okay, that he’s keeping himself busy, maybe reconnecting with some friends, doing all the things he hasn’t gotten to do lately.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Cooper’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Blaine squints up at him.
“What?”
Cooper shrugs. “You look like you’re trying to solve world hunger or something.”
“Oh.” Blaine looks down, traces a line in the hot sand. “Just thinking about Kurt.”
“Anything PG you want to talk about?” Cooper asks, flops onto his belly beside Blaine, draws a smiley face in the san beside Blaine’s line. Blaine adds two oversized ears to the face.
“There, now it’s you.”
“Shut up,” Cooper laughs, messes up the sand so the face is gone. A pause, Blaine stares into the sand.
“Do you think he’s going to resent me?”
“Who, Kurt?” Cooper looks at Blaine like he’s gone crazy. Blaine doesn’t say anything for a moment.
“I mean, not now but… when he’s older? Because… because I made him miss out on, on so much?”
“Blaine…” Cooper starts, turns to lay on his side. “I don’t think Kurt sees it that way, he likes helping you.”
“I just…” Blaine huffs, wishes his brain would hurry up and let him string together a coherent sentence. “I feel bad. He doesn’t do the things he used to anymore and…” Blaine sucks in a breath, wonders why he suddenly feels so stupidly emotional. “I’m worried he’s going to regret it.”
“Oh Blaine,” Cooper says, smiles softly at him. “I don’t think Kurt’s physically capable of regretting anything about you. I think the only thing he would regret is if he hadn’t spent the last few years with you.”
“I wish he never had to.” The words are small, a whispered truth and Blaine rarely lets himself think in what ifs, rarely lets himself imagine a different past, because he knows if he starts he’ll never stop and it hurts too much.
“So do I, Blainey bear,” Cooper says, reaches forward to ruffles Blaine’s hair. This time Blaine doesn’t bat him away. “We all do.”
Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat, blinks back the tears that have gathered against his will, pushes himself up, forces himself to stop thinking.
“Can we make a sand castle?” he asks and Cooper sits up beside him, nudges his shoulder.
“Of course.”
-
Chinese takeout containers cool on the coffee table, long forgotten. Kurt sits slumped on the couch, a tub of ice cream balanced on his lap, stares blankly at the TV, his movie long since ended and a soap opera dramatically acting on the screen. Kurt blinks, gives an empty laugh. It’s Cooper’s soap opera, he realizes, shakes his head at the sight of Cooper pointing at something in the distance. Figures.
He tries not to think about his phone, sitting silent on the table. Blaine’s texted him a few times, from the beach, the record store, a picture of him standing next to a palm tree. But there’s a long delay between replies, his messages sounding half thought out and hurried, like he’s so busy he doesn’t have the time. And Kurt knows this is why he went, he needs this trip, needs to get out of the house and do things, needs to spend time with his brother and explore the world, he hasn’t gotten to go anywhere except Ohio in the last two years and Kurt really his happy for him, it’s just.
Just. He doesn’t know why he can’t cope like a normal person, why he feels like his whole world is falling apart just because Blaine isn’t here. Co-dependent. He hates that stupid word, hates the truth he knows lies inside it. Blaine needed him for so long, depended and relied on Kurt’s help, Kurt’s love, Kurt always being by his side and now… now he doesn’t. Not really. But Kurt does, needs Blaine’s smile in the morning, needs Blaine’s warm body beside him at night when he wakes up from nightmares, needs to know he’s okay, he’s whole, nothing else has happened.
They’re getting worse. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the fear of walking outside at night so intense he leaves work early just to make it home before dark. It’s so frustrating Kurt wants to scream because time is supposed to make these things better, memories of that night should fade and leave him alone. Blaine’s getting better, every day he smiles and fills himself with the vibrance of too much life missed, and so why can’t Kurt?
It’s not fair, he decides, crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not fair and he wants to change, wants to just be happy again, to be able to go out with his friends without feeling like he can’t breathe, to enjoy going into work, to go into a mall without worrying about Blaine, without worrying about all the people pressed around and what if one of them is there, one of the men responsible for hurting Blaine and it fills his head, constricts him like a too tight blanket and…
Breathe.
Again.
Kurt sucks in a breath, feels the couch solid under him, the damp cold on his cheeks, reminds himself that he’s at home, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s home.
He looks down at Belle, curled up beside the couch, over at his phone, still dark, and decides.
Something has to change.
part two