Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn love): part 2 (a)
Title: Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn love): part 2
Rating: PG, (overall NC-17 for the verse)
Warnings: Future fic, brain injuries, brief sexual content, discussions of PTSD, anxiety and panic attacks, and mentions of suicide
Word Count: 7,564
Summary: "Aren't things supposed to get better with time?" he asks, waves his hand. "Memories fade and all that."
"Unfortunately, it always seems to be the hardest memories that like to stick around."
A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.
Part of the Lovesong verse
AN: Thanks so much to shandyall and andercas for looking this over for me. As always, comments are appreciated :)
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 continuation December 3rd, 2019
Shatter January 23rd, 2019
Let Me December 17th, 2019
Let Me: a continuation 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 Day 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
Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn love): part a June 12th-22nd, 2020
Bonus Letters blueprint
June 14th, 2020
Tuesday
Blaine stands in front of the mirror, the edges fogged from his shower. He’d taken his time this morning, partly because today they’re going to Cooper’s work and he knows he’ll get nervous with extra time to sit around this morning, and partly because he misses Kurt. A lot. In many ways. And he doesn’t feel comfortable jerking off at night with Cooper and Lauren in the next room, figures the shower is a safer bet. It still takes him awhile, his body slow to respond to his own awkward motions, but he does get there, eventually.
And that’s what matters. Focus on the positives.
He tries.
He runs his fingers through his hair, tries to style it as best he can, examines himself closer in the mirror. His skin has gotten a slight tan from the hours spent at the beach yesterday, an almost sunburned pink glow on his shoulders, his cheeks. He still feels too thin, but they’ve been stepping it up in his physical therapy class lately, and he thinks he can see a little more definition than he could before. His thumb runs over the tiny scar in his stomach, a jagged dip in his skin where his feeding tube had been, a permanent reminder. He’s been self conscious for a while, worried about how Kurt sees him, if he still finds him attractive or sees him another way. As someone who needs to be taken care of, someone weak and vulnerable, unable to do things for himself. He chews on his lip and smiles; if Kurt doesn’t like how he looks he hasn’t let it show, in fact he’s made it very well known several times just how attractive he finds Blaine.
And it feels good. To still be seen that way, Blaine thinks, tries to draw his shoulders up and find some confidence. “You look good,” he whispers to his reflection, feels a bit ridiculous but he doesn’t care, it’s been so long since he’s been okay with the image that looks back at him from the mirror, and with a swift nod at himself, he pulls his bathrobe around him and leaves the bathroom.
-
When Kurt meets Janessa after work the first thing he does is collapse his head onto the table in front of him and let out a groan.
“Rough day?” Janessa asks sympathetically, reaches to pat at Kurt’s shoulder.
“Rough week,” Kurt responds, words muffled against the arm in between his face and the table.
“Need to talk it out?” Janessa asks before a waiter approaches their table. Janessa orders two Bloody Mary’s before Kurt even has a chance to lift his head, and he raises an eyebrow at Janessa.
“It’s only four,” he states and Janessa shrugs.
“It’s a breakfast drink,” she says simply, and Kurt stares at her.
“It’s only four,” he repeats. Janessa cracks a smile.
“Tell me you weren’t going to go home and drink a bottle of wine all to yourself anyways,” Janessa counters, and Kurt thinks about the unopened bottle of Merlot he’d picked up last night, concedes that Janessa’s probably right.
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” Kurt moans, lets his head fall back on his arm and he knows he’s being melodramatic, but he really doesn’t care.
“Maybe a little bit,” Janessa says, but there’s no bite to her words, her face one of sympathetic understanding when Kurt looks up to glare at her. The waiter returns with their drinks and Kurt orders a chicken salad, figures he needs to balance out all the ice cream he’s been eating somehow.
“So I take it I don’t need to ask how you’ve been doing with Blaine gone,” Janessa says slowly, breaching the topic Kurt wants to pretend doesn’t have to exist. He stares into his drink, takes a sip, feels the spice of it linger on his tongue.
“Hey.” Janessa’s voice is soft, her hand reaching to give Kurt’s a squeeze. “You okay?”
Kurt shakes his head, his throat painfully tight, jaw clenched against the wave of emotions crawling through him and when did he get like this, so easily set off by the smallest question?
“I don’t know what to do,” he says, his words small, eyes looking pleadingly at Janessa, wanting someone to have an answer for him. Janessa waits patiently for him to continue, her hand still wrapped in his, anchoring him. “I feel like.” He pauses, swallows, thinks. What does he feel like? Words flee away from him, his brain struggling to put such transient emotions into something understandable, something that makes sense, something he can work with, something he can change.
“I feel like I’m being left behind,” he says, watches the condensation gather on the side of his drink. “I don’t know if that makes any sense, but Blaine, he just… he’s doing so much, he’s getting his life back and I’m… I feel like I’m stuck.”
“Stuck where?” Janessa prompts, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Kurt pauses again, draws in a breath. “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He looks up to meet Janessa’s eyes. “About the night it happened. And it’s so stupid because it wasn’t like this before, I thought about it sometimes but not…” Breathe. In. Out. “Not like this.”
“Kurt…” Janessa starts and Kurt looks back down, feels his face flushing with the weight of his admission.
“Aren’t things supposed to get better with time?” he asks, waves his hand. “Memories fade and all that.”
“Unfortunately, it always seems to be the hard memories that like to stick around,” Janessa says and the conversation pauses as the waiter returns, their plates balanced carefully in his hands. They thank him, though neither are that interested in eating when he leaves. Kurt pokes at a piece of lettuce, Janessa glancing sadly at her hamburger.
“I think you should talk to someone about this,” she says after a moment. “Someone professional I mean.”
“I am.” Kurt nibbles his salad, but his stomach feels like it’s been lined with lead. “I’ve been seeing someone once a month, but…” he shrugs, “I guess we haven’t really talked about this.”
“I think it might be a good idea,” Janessa says with a comforting smile. “You shouldn’t have to feel like this.”
“Thank you,” Kurt whispers, voice shaky. “It’s just been hard, with Blaine gone. I think I’m realizing that he doesn’t need me anymore, not like he used to, and I guess it’s making me feel a little lost.”
“Well,” Janessa says, grabbing Kurt’s hand to squeeze it once more. “I know for a fact that you have friends who would love to help you find your way back again.”
Kurt smiles at her and it’s mostly real, because she’s right. It’s easy to forget how many people he has in his life, after years of staying home with Blaine, rarely ever leaving, always declining invitations because he can’t just leave Blaine alone, he’s forgotten just how many people have been there to support him, to listen when he needs, to help if he asks and it really is a humbling thought.
“Thanks, Janessa,” Kurt says, wraps his hands around his Bloody Mary. “It means a lot.”
“Anything for my bro,” she says, straight faced and Kurt groans.
“I will refuse to associate with you if you keep calling me that.” He glares at her and she sticks out her tongue and and he thinks he feels a little lighter, lets himself smile for real this time.
“You’re suppressing your id, you know,” Janessa says, raises a pointed eyebrow at him.
“My what?” Kurt frowns.
“Your id. You know, your inner child.”
“My id is perfectly fine, thank you,” Kurt straightens his back. “I have plenty of inner child.”
“Oh really?”
Kurt nods sharply. “He likes ice cream and cheesecake and watching Pixar movies all day. And wine. Lots of wine.”
Janessa snorts. “Sounds more like an inner college student.”
“So, how have you been?” Kurt asks, pointedly changing the subject and taking a large bite of salad. Janessa’s face lights up and she leans over, fiddles with her purse for a moment before pulling out an envelope, sliding it across the table to Kurt. Kurt’s mouth drops open when he realizes what it is.
“Your wedding, oh my god, I completely forgot, I’m awful,” Kurt rambles, opens the envelope to see an invitation, decorated with a sage green ribbon.
“Kurt,” Janessa says, voice a warning tone. “You’re allowed to forget things, you know. You’ve been going through a lot lately. But now I’ve reminded you, so you’re in the clear and I can officially ask you to come dress shopping with me.”
Kurt blinks a few times, takes in what Janessa just said before proclaiming yes! very loudly. “Oh my gosh, yes, I would be honored…” He leans back in his chair, takes her in subjectively. “You definitely want an A-line, maybe with some lace on top, though a trumpet would be gorgeous with your waistline.” Kurt squints and nods satisfactorily, takes another bite of salad. Janessa’s cheeks are red, her eyes excited.
“I do have a budget, you know.”
Kurt sighs. “You can’t put a price on beauty.”
“You can when you have two sets of student loans to pay off,” Janessa responds, looking amused. Kurt smiles, looks at Janessa earnestly.
“Thank you.” The words are weighted, mean so much more than wedding dresses and Janessa reaches forward to poke Kurt’s nose.
“You’re welcome,” she smiles, grabs a fry and dunks it in ketchup. “Now, I think you were talking about how beautiful I am?”
“Was I?” Kurt laughs, but pulls out the notebook he keeps in his satchel at all times, and they spend the rest of their lunch taking notes on Janessa’s wedding, Kurt’s heart feeling lighter than it’s felt all week.
-
Blaine’s vibrating in the front seat, his Starbucks cup clutched in his hands and he’s starting to think the extra caffeine was a bad idea. Cooper glances over at him a few times, but doesn’t say anything, Blaine content to stare out the window as LA passes by them.
They pull into the set parking lot, Blaine clutching his cane tightly and wishing he didn’t need it, not when they’re about to meet all these people that Cooper knows, that he’s friends with, that most likely know all about him and he’s just making it even more obvious that he’s someone to feel sorry for-
“Blaine?” Cooper’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Blaine jerks his head to the side, looks up at Cooper. “You look a little tense.”
Blaine gives a shaky laugh, his limbs feel jittery and he’s really regretting the extra coffee now, he feels like he might just explode out of his skin at any moment. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”
“It won’t take long, okay? They just need to do some fittings and then we’ll be outta here, sound good?”
Blaine nods. He’s being silly, it’s just Cooper’s work, they don’t even start filming until next week and barely anyone will be here, how does he expect to go back to his own work if he can’t even go somewhere he’ll never have to go again? Just think of this as practice, he tells himself, concentrates on feeling the ground solid under his feet, on each breath, on the confidence he had this morning.
Cooper leads Blaine into a giant warehouse and Blaine takes in what looks like a pretty typical movie set, with several fake rooms that Blaine recognizes from the few (very few) episodes he’s watched of Cooper’s show, a fake garden. They keep walking and Blaine sees the hospital room sets where Cooper spends most of his time, and Blaine chuckles at the inaccuracies, doesn’t even feel upset that he’s had enough experience to be able to pick out everything that’s wrong with the set, mostly just amused. Cooper arches an eyebrow at him, but Blaine keeps his mouth shut, he knows how proud Cooper is of his show, how invested he is in it and he’s not about to start criticizing it. He just makes a note to laugh about it with Kurt later.
There are a few people walking about, some Blaine recognizes and a few that obviously work behind the scenes, walking around like they’re completely at home, with a business like approach, regarding things with a critical eye, constantly making adjustments or changes.
Cooper leaves Blaine to wait outside a room while he gets fitted, tells Blaine he won’t take long. Blaine sits on a bench near the door, feels awkward and out of place, drums his thumbs on his knees. He watches people move around, some nod towards him but no one stops to talk, they start filming again in just over a week, and Blaine knows they must be busy. Even soap operas have standards to uphold, he supposes.
He thinks about texting Kurt. He hasn’t talked to him yet today, but something stalls him. This is supposed to be good for them, isn’t it? Having some space, learning to be apart, letting Kurt actually have free time, and Blaine tries to think about what it means, really. To be apart. He’s based his whole recovery, everything he’s learned and relearned, all on Kurt. All for Kurt. Everything he does, he does with Kurt in mind, and he wonders if maybe it’s okay to do something for himself, if it’s okay for Kurt to want to do something for himself too. He wonders-
“What’s that?” A voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he jumps, sees two kids, a small girl and a slightly older boy, standing off to his side. The boy points to his cane and Blaine wraps his fingers reflexively around the polished wood.
“It’s a cane,” Blaine answers, glances around to see if anyone is looking for these kids, shifts where he’s sitting.
“Why do you have a cane?” the boy asks, his look quizzical. Blaine frowns, falters.
“To, uh, help me balance.”
“Cool. Are you one of the grownups?” Blaine blinks, head spinning from the fast questions.
“Nope. Not a grownup,” he answers and the girl, she can’t be older than five, looks up at the boy with an almost reverent look.
“Do you want to see our fort?” The boy looks earnest, and Blaine glances back at the door his brother is hiding behind, shrugs.
“I’d love to,” he agrees, because why not. The girl gives a happy squeak as Blaine balances the cane in one hand, takes the offered hand of the girl in the other.
“What’s your name?” He asks the girl as they lead him to a corner of the room he hadn’t seen before. The boy turns back to him. “She’s deaf. Her name’s Annabelle”
“Oh,” Blaine says, looks down at her small hand in his, gives it a squeeze and she smiles up at him. The boy signs something to her and she giggles.
“My name’s Tristan,” he says, nodding, and his floppy hair falls in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Tristan,” Blaine says. “I’m Blaine.”
“That’s cool. I’m Nine. Anna’s four. We’ve been working on this for a long time, it’s kind of a secret,” Tristan says with a shrug and the kind of boastful nonchalance only a nine year old can possess.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Blaine says, frowns as he tries to find the word. “Promise.”
“Good,” Tristan says with a nod, and leads them around the corner of a set. Blankets are held up by chairs, tacked to the outside of a fake window and Blaine has to crouch to a crawl in order to follow Tristan and Annabelle inside.
“Wow,” Blaine exclaims, sitting on a soft blanket underneath him, his knees pressed up to his chest to make room. “This is great.”
“Thanks,” Tristan says, looks around proudly. “We’ve been building it since yesterday.”
Blaine nods seriously, sees Annabelle looking up at him and he smiles at her. She signs something to Tristan and he signs back, his face an expression of annoyance.
“She wants to sit in your lap,” Tristan says with a grumble, grabs at a bag of Doritos that were shoved behind a blanket.
“Oh,” Blaine says, surprised. “Sure.” He lowers his legs in a pretzel and Annabelle scoots herself into his lap, touches his face and laughs.
“Are you guys siblings?” He asks Tristan once Annabelle has settled herself.
“Yeah.” The answer is slightly muffled by the Doritos in his mouth. “My mom works here. She makes costumes.”
“My, uh, my brother’s an actor,” Blaine says, bounces Annabelle a little on his lap. “His name’s Cooper.”
Tristan squints, looks at him curiously.
“My mom told me Cooper’s brother was in an accident,” Tristan says, his voice almost challenging. “That’s why Cooper kept leaving work all the time.”
Blaine doesn’t know what to say, feels shocked and stupid for feeling that way because it’s not like his life ends outside of Kurt and Cooper and his parents. It’s not like he’s never heard gossip from coworkers, like he didn’t listen with concern when another teacher’s sister had breast cancer, like he doesn’t know everything that’s going on in Kurt’s office. It just… throws him, in a way he isn’t expecting, to hear the words from a nine year old in a blanket fort.
“That was me.” Blaine keeps his voice even, sees the way Tristan cocks his head while pushing hair from his eyes.
“You don’t look that bad,” Tristan observes. “My mom said you were disabled. She always talked about how bad she felt for you and your family.”
Blaine considers, taps a pattern on Annabelle’s knee. She’s wearing thick white tights under her dress and Blaine notices a rip on her shin, her knees dirty from crawling around, he guesses.
“I’m a lot better now,” Blaine says, lets Annabelle play with his fingers. “I wasn’t for awhile.”
“Is that why you have a cane?” Tristan asks, the Doritos already forgotten. Blaine nods. “I wish I had a cane,” Tristan continues, looking excited. “I’d get one with a sword inside, and then I could fight off all the bad guys.”
Blaine smiles, lets himself laugh. “That’s a good idea.”
“You could always hit people on the head with yours,” Tristan suggests.
“What if I,” Blaine swallows. “What if I want to be nice to people?”
“Oh,” Tristan says, nods slowly. “You could do that I suppose. Want to play a game?”
They play Go Fish for awhile, Tristan translating for Annabelle, and Blaine lets her look at his cards, thinks Tristan bends the rules a few times, but he really doesn’t care, he’s actually having fun, more fun than he’s had in a long time. An ache settles in his stomach along with the Doritos Tristan has been sharing with him, and Blaine misses his students, misses being surrounded by this every day, by kids who know how to laugh freely, who are so eager and willing to learn once you make things fun for them. He misses being a teacher, and the thought of sitting at home alone all day makes something churn inside him.
And he makes a resolution. He’s already been talking to the director of the school, set to come back for half days in the fall and work alongside the teacher they hired while he’s been gone, but he’d been set last spring too, and that had never happened. He’s not going to let it get pushed back this time, he’s not going to let this stupid thing that happened to him stall his life anymore.
“Uh, Blaine?” Tristan’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “It’s your turn.”
Blaine apologizes, asks for a queen of diamonds even though he knows Tristan doesn’t have one. They play for a while longer, Tristan telling Blaine about his school and how much he loves playing basketball and his cool friend Paul who has an Xbox and a Playstation, and makes sure to look impressed at everything Tristan’s telling him. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should head back so Cooper doesn’t get worried when Blaine isn’t waiting for him, when a voice comes from outside the blanket fort.
“Knock knock?”
Cooper’s head peeks through, smiles when he sees Blaine. Blaine smiles back, feels a little sheepish, sitting in a blanket fort, surrounded by playing cards and Dorito crumbs.
“Hey, Coop,” Blaine greets.
“Make some friends?” Cooper asks, ruffles Annabelle’s hair as he squeezes into the fort. “We figured you might be back here when we couldn’t find you.”
Tristan doesn’t seem that upset that Cooper knows where his secret fort is, just offers some cards over.
“Do you want to play?”
“I’d love to, bud, but Blaine and I have a lunch date to get too,” Cooper says. Tristan looks disappointed, but shrugs like he’s trying not to show it.
“But he’s here for a few more days, so maybe you guys can come over this weekend and we can play more then?” Cooper suggests and Blaine actually feels like that’s something he would look forward too.
“Okay,” Tristan agrees, shoving his cards into a pile in the corner. They crawl out of the fort; Blaine’s legs feel stiff when he stands up and he has to lean on his cane a little more than he’d like.
There’s a woman standing outside, she’s small but has long hair the same color as Tristan’s.
“You must be Blaine,” she says, extends a hand out. “I’m Lisa, I created these two rascals.” Blaine takes her hand and she steps forward to give him a quick hug.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Blaine says.
“She’s the one who makes sure I look good,” Cooper explains, flashes his teeth in a smile.
“It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it,” she says and Blaine chuckles, tries to discretely wiggle his feet to rid them of the pins and needles from sitting so long. “I’m so happy you made it down here, Cooper’s been talking about you nonstop.”
Cooper blushes and Blaine feels heat in his own cheeks, doesn’t really know what to say. He settles on “thank you,” looks over to Cooper.
“We should probably be heading out,” Cooper says and Blaine feels relieved.
“It was very nice to meet you,” Blaine says, nodding at Lisa before turning to look at Tristan and Annabelle. “Thanks for, um, letting me hide in your blanket fort.”
Tristan shrugs, which Blaine thinks might be his favorite thing to do. “No problem.” He gives Annabelle a hug and follows Cooper out, feeling a little bit lighter.
-
“So…” Cooper starts, looking pointedly at Blaine over his hamburger. “You were great with those kids.”
Blaine chews at his fry, watches his Diet Coke sweat on the table. They’d stopped at Cooper’s favorite restaurant for lunch, an old fashion burger joint in a building that looks like a chrome box, with garish pink seats and 50s pop songs straining from the overhead speakers.
“They were pretty easy to please,” he responds, stabs another fry into some ketchup. “All I had to do was lis… um, listen and nod.”
Cooper hums, a smile on his face and Blaine knows nothing good can come of this.
“It made me excited to get, uh,” Blaine pokes his hamburger. He’d been doing so well all day, words and sentences coming easily to him, and now they’re stalling, slowing down and making him work for it. “Teaching. Again. To be teaching again.” There.
“You’ll do great,” Cooper says, pushes the milkshake they’re sharing towards Blaine. “You’re a natural with kids. They’ll be glad to have you back, I’m sure.” He pauses, thinking. “Plus, you could always just overdose them with candy and then they’ll love you no matter what. And make sure to point and yell at random intervals. Kids always love that.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow, wonders if that’s why Cooper has never actually had much success getting kids to like him. “-m nervous but, I think I’m ready.” He gives a determined nod, grabs at the milkshake washes down the remnants of his french fries with it.
Cooper eats his hamburger, watches Blaine with an intensity that makes Blaine feel uncomfortable.
“Speaking of kids,” Cooper says after a minute, setting his hamburger down with a delicacy he generally lacks. “My dear little baby brother of mine. Our mother, the woman who so selflessly birthed us, called me the other week to complain about how she’d expected to have grandchildren by now, and how she’s had to resort to buying baby clothes for her cats.”
Blaine’s mouth goes dry, his throat suddenly too thick to keep eating.
“Lauren and I have both decided this procreating business is messy and we enjoy our lives free of attachments and smelly diapers, but I told her not to give up hope, you and Kurt might decide to pop out a few miniature humans, hypothetically speaking.”
Blaine’s silent, and Cooper nudges his foot under the table. “So? Any plans you haven’t told me? Any nieces or nephews in the future for me?”
“I, uh…” Blaine coughs, clears his throat. “We haven’t really… you know. Talked about it.”
“Really?” Cooper says, voice full of disbelief. “What, 10 years together and you guys haven’t talked about having kids?”
“We did before,” Blaine says, feels his face heating up. “Just not since, you know. I sort of just figured it was,” Blaine shrugs, “off the table.”
The waitress comes by, and Cooper hands her his credit card with a smile.
“Why not? You’d be a great dad, Blaine. Anyone could see that.”
Blaine lets out a humorless laugh. “You must be really dense.”
Cooper looks offended. Blaine shakes his head. “I can’t even take care of myself. How could…” Blaine stops, the words leaving him, as they so often do when he feels annoyance rising hot inside of him.
“Well you could’ve fooled me,” Cooper says, voice firm. “It seems like you’ve done a pretty good job taking care of yourself since you’ve gotten here.”
Blaine keeps his jaw clenched, stares resolutely down at the table.
“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Cooper says, apologetic. “But I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself.”
“Just drop it,” Blaine grits out, digs his fingernails into his jeans.
“Okay,” Cooper concedes, accepts his receipt from the waitress who hurries away like she knows she’s interrupting something important. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
Blaine lets out his breath, feels a bit bad for his reaction but the subject feels like pressing a thumb into a bruise, tender and fresh, sending an ache deep into his core. They leave the restaurant and drive home mostly in silence, Cooper occasionally trying to bring a smile to Blaine’s face with a sarcastic remark. When they pull into the driveway Blaine closes his eyes, draws in a deep breath and tries to shove everything away, imagines the hurt as a tiny ball of light, throws it into the sky, and moves on.
“Can we go to that bookstore you were telling me about?” he asks Cooper, tries to smile at him as best he can. Cooper smiles back and nods, eyes lighting up when he realizes Blaine isn’t mad at him.
“Of course,” Cooper agrees, reaches across to squeeze Blaine’s shoulder, before putting the car in reverse.
part b
Rating: PG, (overall NC-17 for the verse)
Warnings: Future fic, brain injuries, brief sexual content, discussions of PTSD, anxiety and panic attacks, and mentions of suicide
Word Count: 7,564
Summary: "Aren't things supposed to get better with time?" he asks, waves his hand. "Memories fade and all that."
"Unfortunately, it always seems to be the hardest memories that like to stick around."
A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.
Part of the Lovesong verse
AN: Thanks so much to shandyall and andercas for looking this over for me. As always, comments are appreciated :)
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 continuation December 3rd, 2019
Shatter January 23rd, 2019
Let Me December 17th, 2019
Let Me: a continuation 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 Day 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
Stubborn Hearts (and stubborn love): part a June 12th-22nd, 2020
Bonus Letters blueprint
June 14th, 2020
Tuesday
Blaine stands in front of the mirror, the edges fogged from his shower. He’d taken his time this morning, partly because today they’re going to Cooper’s work and he knows he’ll get nervous with extra time to sit around this morning, and partly because he misses Kurt. A lot. In many ways. And he doesn’t feel comfortable jerking off at night with Cooper and Lauren in the next room, figures the shower is a safer bet. It still takes him awhile, his body slow to respond to his own awkward motions, but he does get there, eventually.
And that’s what matters. Focus on the positives.
He tries.
He runs his fingers through his hair, tries to style it as best he can, examines himself closer in the mirror. His skin has gotten a slight tan from the hours spent at the beach yesterday, an almost sunburned pink glow on his shoulders, his cheeks. He still feels too thin, but they’ve been stepping it up in his physical therapy class lately, and he thinks he can see a little more definition than he could before. His thumb runs over the tiny scar in his stomach, a jagged dip in his skin where his feeding tube had been, a permanent reminder. He’s been self conscious for a while, worried about how Kurt sees him, if he still finds him attractive or sees him another way. As someone who needs to be taken care of, someone weak and vulnerable, unable to do things for himself. He chews on his lip and smiles; if Kurt doesn’t like how he looks he hasn’t let it show, in fact he’s made it very well known several times just how attractive he finds Blaine.
And it feels good. To still be seen that way, Blaine thinks, tries to draw his shoulders up and find some confidence. “You look good,” he whispers to his reflection, feels a bit ridiculous but he doesn’t care, it’s been so long since he’s been okay with the image that looks back at him from the mirror, and with a swift nod at himself, he pulls his bathrobe around him and leaves the bathroom.
-
When Kurt meets Janessa after work the first thing he does is collapse his head onto the table in front of him and let out a groan.
“Rough day?” Janessa asks sympathetically, reaches to pat at Kurt’s shoulder.
“Rough week,” Kurt responds, words muffled against the arm in between his face and the table.
“Need to talk it out?” Janessa asks before a waiter approaches their table. Janessa orders two Bloody Mary’s before Kurt even has a chance to lift his head, and he raises an eyebrow at Janessa.
“It’s only four,” he states and Janessa shrugs.
“It’s a breakfast drink,” she says simply, and Kurt stares at her.
“It’s only four,” he repeats. Janessa cracks a smile.
“Tell me you weren’t going to go home and drink a bottle of wine all to yourself anyways,” Janessa counters, and Kurt thinks about the unopened bottle of Merlot he’d picked up last night, concedes that Janessa’s probably right.
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” Kurt moans, lets his head fall back on his arm and he knows he’s being melodramatic, but he really doesn’t care.
“Maybe a little bit,” Janessa says, but there’s no bite to her words, her face one of sympathetic understanding when Kurt looks up to glare at her. The waiter returns with their drinks and Kurt orders a chicken salad, figures he needs to balance out all the ice cream he’s been eating somehow.
“So I take it I don’t need to ask how you’ve been doing with Blaine gone,” Janessa says slowly, breaching the topic Kurt wants to pretend doesn’t have to exist. He stares into his drink, takes a sip, feels the spice of it linger on his tongue.
“Hey.” Janessa’s voice is soft, her hand reaching to give Kurt’s a squeeze. “You okay?”
Kurt shakes his head, his throat painfully tight, jaw clenched against the wave of emotions crawling through him and when did he get like this, so easily set off by the smallest question?
“I don’t know what to do,” he says, his words small, eyes looking pleadingly at Janessa, wanting someone to have an answer for him. Janessa waits patiently for him to continue, her hand still wrapped in his, anchoring him. “I feel like.” He pauses, swallows, thinks. What does he feel like? Words flee away from him, his brain struggling to put such transient emotions into something understandable, something that makes sense, something he can work with, something he can change.
“I feel like I’m being left behind,” he says, watches the condensation gather on the side of his drink. “I don’t know if that makes any sense, but Blaine, he just… he’s doing so much, he’s getting his life back and I’m… I feel like I’m stuck.”
“Stuck where?” Janessa prompts, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Kurt pauses again, draws in a breath. “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He looks up to meet Janessa’s eyes. “About the night it happened. And it’s so stupid because it wasn’t like this before, I thought about it sometimes but not…” Breathe. In. Out. “Not like this.”
“Kurt…” Janessa starts and Kurt looks back down, feels his face flushing with the weight of his admission.
“Aren’t things supposed to get better with time?” he asks, waves his hand. “Memories fade and all that.”
“Unfortunately, it always seems to be the hard memories that like to stick around,” Janessa says and the conversation pauses as the waiter returns, their plates balanced carefully in his hands. They thank him, though neither are that interested in eating when he leaves. Kurt pokes at a piece of lettuce, Janessa glancing sadly at her hamburger.
“I think you should talk to someone about this,” she says after a moment. “Someone professional I mean.”
“I am.” Kurt nibbles his salad, but his stomach feels like it’s been lined with lead. “I’ve been seeing someone once a month, but…” he shrugs, “I guess we haven’t really talked about this.”
“I think it might be a good idea,” Janessa says with a comforting smile. “You shouldn’t have to feel like this.”
“Thank you,” Kurt whispers, voice shaky. “It’s just been hard, with Blaine gone. I think I’m realizing that he doesn’t need me anymore, not like he used to, and I guess it’s making me feel a little lost.”
“Well,” Janessa says, grabbing Kurt’s hand to squeeze it once more. “I know for a fact that you have friends who would love to help you find your way back again.”
Kurt smiles at her and it’s mostly real, because she’s right. It’s easy to forget how many people he has in his life, after years of staying home with Blaine, rarely ever leaving, always declining invitations because he can’t just leave Blaine alone, he’s forgotten just how many people have been there to support him, to listen when he needs, to help if he asks and it really is a humbling thought.
“Thanks, Janessa,” Kurt says, wraps his hands around his Bloody Mary. “It means a lot.”
“Anything for my bro,” she says, straight faced and Kurt groans.
“I will refuse to associate with you if you keep calling me that.” He glares at her and she sticks out her tongue and and he thinks he feels a little lighter, lets himself smile for real this time.
“You’re suppressing your id, you know,” Janessa says, raises a pointed eyebrow at him.
“My what?” Kurt frowns.
“Your id. You know, your inner child.”
“My id is perfectly fine, thank you,” Kurt straightens his back. “I have plenty of inner child.”
“Oh really?”
Kurt nods sharply. “He likes ice cream and cheesecake and watching Pixar movies all day. And wine. Lots of wine.”
Janessa snorts. “Sounds more like an inner college student.”
“So, how have you been?” Kurt asks, pointedly changing the subject and taking a large bite of salad. Janessa’s face lights up and she leans over, fiddles with her purse for a moment before pulling out an envelope, sliding it across the table to Kurt. Kurt’s mouth drops open when he realizes what it is.
“Your wedding, oh my god, I completely forgot, I’m awful,” Kurt rambles, opens the envelope to see an invitation, decorated with a sage green ribbon.
“Kurt,” Janessa says, voice a warning tone. “You’re allowed to forget things, you know. You’ve been going through a lot lately. But now I’ve reminded you, so you’re in the clear and I can officially ask you to come dress shopping with me.”
Kurt blinks a few times, takes in what Janessa just said before proclaiming yes! very loudly. “Oh my gosh, yes, I would be honored…” He leans back in his chair, takes her in subjectively. “You definitely want an A-line, maybe with some lace on top, though a trumpet would be gorgeous with your waistline.” Kurt squints and nods satisfactorily, takes another bite of salad. Janessa’s cheeks are red, her eyes excited.
“I do have a budget, you know.”
Kurt sighs. “You can’t put a price on beauty.”
“You can when you have two sets of student loans to pay off,” Janessa responds, looking amused. Kurt smiles, looks at Janessa earnestly.
“Thank you.” The words are weighted, mean so much more than wedding dresses and Janessa reaches forward to poke Kurt’s nose.
“You’re welcome,” she smiles, grabs a fry and dunks it in ketchup. “Now, I think you were talking about how beautiful I am?”
“Was I?” Kurt laughs, but pulls out the notebook he keeps in his satchel at all times, and they spend the rest of their lunch taking notes on Janessa’s wedding, Kurt’s heart feeling lighter than it’s felt all week.
-
Blaine’s vibrating in the front seat, his Starbucks cup clutched in his hands and he’s starting to think the extra caffeine was a bad idea. Cooper glances over at him a few times, but doesn’t say anything, Blaine content to stare out the window as LA passes by them.
They pull into the set parking lot, Blaine clutching his cane tightly and wishing he didn’t need it, not when they’re about to meet all these people that Cooper knows, that he’s friends with, that most likely know all about him and he’s just making it even more obvious that he’s someone to feel sorry for-
“Blaine?” Cooper’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Blaine jerks his head to the side, looks up at Cooper. “You look a little tense.”
Blaine gives a shaky laugh, his limbs feel jittery and he’s really regretting the extra coffee now, he feels like he might just explode out of his skin at any moment. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”
“It won’t take long, okay? They just need to do some fittings and then we’ll be outta here, sound good?”
Blaine nods. He’s being silly, it’s just Cooper’s work, they don’t even start filming until next week and barely anyone will be here, how does he expect to go back to his own work if he can’t even go somewhere he’ll never have to go again? Just think of this as practice, he tells himself, concentrates on feeling the ground solid under his feet, on each breath, on the confidence he had this morning.
Cooper leads Blaine into a giant warehouse and Blaine takes in what looks like a pretty typical movie set, with several fake rooms that Blaine recognizes from the few (very few) episodes he’s watched of Cooper’s show, a fake garden. They keep walking and Blaine sees the hospital room sets where Cooper spends most of his time, and Blaine chuckles at the inaccuracies, doesn’t even feel upset that he’s had enough experience to be able to pick out everything that’s wrong with the set, mostly just amused. Cooper arches an eyebrow at him, but Blaine keeps his mouth shut, he knows how proud Cooper is of his show, how invested he is in it and he’s not about to start criticizing it. He just makes a note to laugh about it with Kurt later.
There are a few people walking about, some Blaine recognizes and a few that obviously work behind the scenes, walking around like they’re completely at home, with a business like approach, regarding things with a critical eye, constantly making adjustments or changes.
Cooper leaves Blaine to wait outside a room while he gets fitted, tells Blaine he won’t take long. Blaine sits on a bench near the door, feels awkward and out of place, drums his thumbs on his knees. He watches people move around, some nod towards him but no one stops to talk, they start filming again in just over a week, and Blaine knows they must be busy. Even soap operas have standards to uphold, he supposes.
He thinks about texting Kurt. He hasn’t talked to him yet today, but something stalls him. This is supposed to be good for them, isn’t it? Having some space, learning to be apart, letting Kurt actually have free time, and Blaine tries to think about what it means, really. To be apart. He’s based his whole recovery, everything he’s learned and relearned, all on Kurt. All for Kurt. Everything he does, he does with Kurt in mind, and he wonders if maybe it’s okay to do something for himself, if it’s okay for Kurt to want to do something for himself too. He wonders-
“What’s that?” A voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he jumps, sees two kids, a small girl and a slightly older boy, standing off to his side. The boy points to his cane and Blaine wraps his fingers reflexively around the polished wood.
“It’s a cane,” Blaine answers, glances around to see if anyone is looking for these kids, shifts where he’s sitting.
“Why do you have a cane?” the boy asks, his look quizzical. Blaine frowns, falters.
“To, uh, help me balance.”
“Cool. Are you one of the grownups?” Blaine blinks, head spinning from the fast questions.
“Nope. Not a grownup,” he answers and the girl, she can’t be older than five, looks up at the boy with an almost reverent look.
“Do you want to see our fort?” The boy looks earnest, and Blaine glances back at the door his brother is hiding behind, shrugs.
“I’d love to,” he agrees, because why not. The girl gives a happy squeak as Blaine balances the cane in one hand, takes the offered hand of the girl in the other.
“What’s your name?” He asks the girl as they lead him to a corner of the room he hadn’t seen before. The boy turns back to him. “She’s deaf. Her name’s Annabelle”
“Oh,” Blaine says, looks down at her small hand in his, gives it a squeeze and she smiles up at him. The boy signs something to her and she giggles.
“My name’s Tristan,” he says, nodding, and his floppy hair falls in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Tristan,” Blaine says. “I’m Blaine.”
“That’s cool. I’m Nine. Anna’s four. We’ve been working on this for a long time, it’s kind of a secret,” Tristan says with a shrug and the kind of boastful nonchalance only a nine year old can possess.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Blaine says, frowns as he tries to find the word. “Promise.”
“Good,” Tristan says with a nod, and leads them around the corner of a set. Blankets are held up by chairs, tacked to the outside of a fake window and Blaine has to crouch to a crawl in order to follow Tristan and Annabelle inside.
“Wow,” Blaine exclaims, sitting on a soft blanket underneath him, his knees pressed up to his chest to make room. “This is great.”
“Thanks,” Tristan says, looks around proudly. “We’ve been building it since yesterday.”
Blaine nods seriously, sees Annabelle looking up at him and he smiles at her. She signs something to Tristan and he signs back, his face an expression of annoyance.
“She wants to sit in your lap,” Tristan says with a grumble, grabs at a bag of Doritos that were shoved behind a blanket.
“Oh,” Blaine says, surprised. “Sure.” He lowers his legs in a pretzel and Annabelle scoots herself into his lap, touches his face and laughs.
“Are you guys siblings?” He asks Tristan once Annabelle has settled herself.
“Yeah.” The answer is slightly muffled by the Doritos in his mouth. “My mom works here. She makes costumes.”
“My, uh, my brother’s an actor,” Blaine says, bounces Annabelle a little on his lap. “His name’s Cooper.”
Tristan squints, looks at him curiously.
“My mom told me Cooper’s brother was in an accident,” Tristan says, his voice almost challenging. “That’s why Cooper kept leaving work all the time.”
Blaine doesn’t know what to say, feels shocked and stupid for feeling that way because it’s not like his life ends outside of Kurt and Cooper and his parents. It’s not like he’s never heard gossip from coworkers, like he didn’t listen with concern when another teacher’s sister had breast cancer, like he doesn’t know everything that’s going on in Kurt’s office. It just… throws him, in a way he isn’t expecting, to hear the words from a nine year old in a blanket fort.
“That was me.” Blaine keeps his voice even, sees the way Tristan cocks his head while pushing hair from his eyes.
“You don’t look that bad,” Tristan observes. “My mom said you were disabled. She always talked about how bad she felt for you and your family.”
Blaine considers, taps a pattern on Annabelle’s knee. She’s wearing thick white tights under her dress and Blaine notices a rip on her shin, her knees dirty from crawling around, he guesses.
“I’m a lot better now,” Blaine says, lets Annabelle play with his fingers. “I wasn’t for awhile.”
“Is that why you have a cane?” Tristan asks, the Doritos already forgotten. Blaine nods. “I wish I had a cane,” Tristan continues, looking excited. “I’d get one with a sword inside, and then I could fight off all the bad guys.”
Blaine smiles, lets himself laugh. “That’s a good idea.”
“You could always hit people on the head with yours,” Tristan suggests.
“What if I,” Blaine swallows. “What if I want to be nice to people?”
“Oh,” Tristan says, nods slowly. “You could do that I suppose. Want to play a game?”
They play Go Fish for awhile, Tristan translating for Annabelle, and Blaine lets her look at his cards, thinks Tristan bends the rules a few times, but he really doesn’t care, he’s actually having fun, more fun than he’s had in a long time. An ache settles in his stomach along with the Doritos Tristan has been sharing with him, and Blaine misses his students, misses being surrounded by this every day, by kids who know how to laugh freely, who are so eager and willing to learn once you make things fun for them. He misses being a teacher, and the thought of sitting at home alone all day makes something churn inside him.
And he makes a resolution. He’s already been talking to the director of the school, set to come back for half days in the fall and work alongside the teacher they hired while he’s been gone, but he’d been set last spring too, and that had never happened. He’s not going to let it get pushed back this time, he’s not going to let this stupid thing that happened to him stall his life anymore.
“Uh, Blaine?” Tristan’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “It’s your turn.”
Blaine apologizes, asks for a queen of diamonds even though he knows Tristan doesn’t have one. They play for a while longer, Tristan telling Blaine about his school and how much he loves playing basketball and his cool friend Paul who has an Xbox and a Playstation, and makes sure to look impressed at everything Tristan’s telling him. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should head back so Cooper doesn’t get worried when Blaine isn’t waiting for him, when a voice comes from outside the blanket fort.
“Knock knock?”
Cooper’s head peeks through, smiles when he sees Blaine. Blaine smiles back, feels a little sheepish, sitting in a blanket fort, surrounded by playing cards and Dorito crumbs.
“Hey, Coop,” Blaine greets.
“Make some friends?” Cooper asks, ruffles Annabelle’s hair as he squeezes into the fort. “We figured you might be back here when we couldn’t find you.”
Tristan doesn’t seem that upset that Cooper knows where his secret fort is, just offers some cards over.
“Do you want to play?”
“I’d love to, bud, but Blaine and I have a lunch date to get too,” Cooper says. Tristan looks disappointed, but shrugs like he’s trying not to show it.
“But he’s here for a few more days, so maybe you guys can come over this weekend and we can play more then?” Cooper suggests and Blaine actually feels like that’s something he would look forward too.
“Okay,” Tristan agrees, shoving his cards into a pile in the corner. They crawl out of the fort; Blaine’s legs feel stiff when he stands up and he has to lean on his cane a little more than he’d like.
There’s a woman standing outside, she’s small but has long hair the same color as Tristan’s.
“You must be Blaine,” she says, extends a hand out. “I’m Lisa, I created these two rascals.” Blaine takes her hand and she steps forward to give him a quick hug.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Blaine says.
“She’s the one who makes sure I look good,” Cooper explains, flashes his teeth in a smile.
“It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it,” she says and Blaine chuckles, tries to discretely wiggle his feet to rid them of the pins and needles from sitting so long. “I’m so happy you made it down here, Cooper’s been talking about you nonstop.”
Cooper blushes and Blaine feels heat in his own cheeks, doesn’t really know what to say. He settles on “thank you,” looks over to Cooper.
“We should probably be heading out,” Cooper says and Blaine feels relieved.
“It was very nice to meet you,” Blaine says, nodding at Lisa before turning to look at Tristan and Annabelle. “Thanks for, um, letting me hide in your blanket fort.”
Tristan shrugs, which Blaine thinks might be his favorite thing to do. “No problem.” He gives Annabelle a hug and follows Cooper out, feeling a little bit lighter.
-
“So…” Cooper starts, looking pointedly at Blaine over his hamburger. “You were great with those kids.”
Blaine chews at his fry, watches his Diet Coke sweat on the table. They’d stopped at Cooper’s favorite restaurant for lunch, an old fashion burger joint in a building that looks like a chrome box, with garish pink seats and 50s pop songs straining from the overhead speakers.
“They were pretty easy to please,” he responds, stabs another fry into some ketchup. “All I had to do was lis… um, listen and nod.”
Cooper hums, a smile on his face and Blaine knows nothing good can come of this.
“It made me excited to get, uh,” Blaine pokes his hamburger. He’d been doing so well all day, words and sentences coming easily to him, and now they’re stalling, slowing down and making him work for it. “Teaching. Again. To be teaching again.” There.
“You’ll do great,” Cooper says, pushes the milkshake they’re sharing towards Blaine. “You’re a natural with kids. They’ll be glad to have you back, I’m sure.” He pauses, thinking. “Plus, you could always just overdose them with candy and then they’ll love you no matter what. And make sure to point and yell at random intervals. Kids always love that.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow, wonders if that’s why Cooper has never actually had much success getting kids to like him. “-m nervous but, I think I’m ready.” He gives a determined nod, grabs at the milkshake washes down the remnants of his french fries with it.
Cooper eats his hamburger, watches Blaine with an intensity that makes Blaine feel uncomfortable.
“Speaking of kids,” Cooper says after a minute, setting his hamburger down with a delicacy he generally lacks. “My dear little baby brother of mine. Our mother, the woman who so selflessly birthed us, called me the other week to complain about how she’d expected to have grandchildren by now, and how she’s had to resort to buying baby clothes for her cats.”
Blaine’s mouth goes dry, his throat suddenly too thick to keep eating.
“Lauren and I have both decided this procreating business is messy and we enjoy our lives free of attachments and smelly diapers, but I told her not to give up hope, you and Kurt might decide to pop out a few miniature humans, hypothetically speaking.”
Blaine’s silent, and Cooper nudges his foot under the table. “So? Any plans you haven’t told me? Any nieces or nephews in the future for me?”
“I, uh…” Blaine coughs, clears his throat. “We haven’t really… you know. Talked about it.”
“Really?” Cooper says, voice full of disbelief. “What, 10 years together and you guys haven’t talked about having kids?”
“We did before,” Blaine says, feels his face heating up. “Just not since, you know. I sort of just figured it was,” Blaine shrugs, “off the table.”
The waitress comes by, and Cooper hands her his credit card with a smile.
“Why not? You’d be a great dad, Blaine. Anyone could see that.”
Blaine lets out a humorless laugh. “You must be really dense.”
Cooper looks offended. Blaine shakes his head. “I can’t even take care of myself. How could…” Blaine stops, the words leaving him, as they so often do when he feels annoyance rising hot inside of him.
“Well you could’ve fooled me,” Cooper says, voice firm. “It seems like you’ve done a pretty good job taking care of yourself since you’ve gotten here.”
Blaine keeps his jaw clenched, stares resolutely down at the table.
“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Cooper says, apologetic. “But I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself.”
“Just drop it,” Blaine grits out, digs his fingernails into his jeans.
“Okay,” Cooper concedes, accepts his receipt from the waitress who hurries away like she knows she’s interrupting something important. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
Blaine lets out his breath, feels a bit bad for his reaction but the subject feels like pressing a thumb into a bruise, tender and fresh, sending an ache deep into his core. They leave the restaurant and drive home mostly in silence, Cooper occasionally trying to bring a smile to Blaine’s face with a sarcastic remark. When they pull into the driveway Blaine closes his eyes, draws in a deep breath and tries to shove everything away, imagines the hurt as a tiny ball of light, throws it into the sky, and moves on.
“Can we go to that bookstore you were telling me about?” he asks Cooper, tries to smile at him as best he can. Cooper smiles back and nods, eyes lighting up when he realizes Blaine isn’t mad at him.
“Of course,” Cooper agrees, reaches across to squeeze Blaine’s shoulder, before putting the car in reverse.
part b