chapter twelve; part one
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
interlude: from the outside looking in
chapter eleven
Dear Finn,
Thank you for offering to do this. It means a lot to me.
Everything you should need to know will be detailed below, though, if you needed anything else, feel free to phone me, and I’ll do my best to answer.
First of all, don’t panic. Whatever happens, I’ll be back in a few days.
This is going to be strange for Blaine - something new, and I don’t know how well he’ll react. If he ever becomes tense, or angry, or panicked for whatever reason, take him to the music room, get him started on playing something. If it becomes urgent, start singing right then and there, and make it an old song, something he’ll know. If in doubt, resort to One Hand, One Heart. That should help him to relax.
The music is also good for Blaine generally. So get him to play during the day, whenever.
Second, Clare (his doctor - you met her at the hospital) has said to get Blaine writing in his diary as much as possible, particularly over these few days. She’s not due for a visit, but her number is right by the phone if you need it.
Thirdly, I didn’t know how you’d feel about sharing a bed with Blaine, but he needs to be kept close at night, in case he wakes up and wanders out. There’s a chance of that happening, and if he gets out onto the road, it won’t be good. Anyway, if you don’t want to share the bed with him, if you’re uncomfortable with that in any way, I’ve left a made-up mattress and some bedding in the spare room. Feel free to take that into our room and sleep on the floor. That should be okay, comfortable enough. As long as you’re with Blaine. You don’t need to stay with him for the whole twenty four hours - if he’s sleeping during the day, you can leave him, but don’t leave the house without him.
Finally, keep calm. No matter what happens, don’t fret, don’t lose control, because otherwise that will affect Blaine too.
Here’s a shorter version:
- · Music when he gets anxious
- · Keep playing during the day
- · KEEP CALM
- · Keep diary
- · Sleep in bed in room
- · Clare’s no. by phone
I know I’m asking a lot of you here, but you’re the only person I trust to take care of him as well as he needs.
I’ll see you in a few days.
All my love,
Kurt
-
The drive to Lima takes nine hours.
Kurt plays the radio as loud as he can while he drives along Route 80, treading the edge of the speed limit almost the whole way, trying to drown himself in sound.
-
When he arrives on the front doorstep, he’s sixteen again, and when his father opens the door, takes him into his arms, he clings on tight, like they’re the only ones left.
-
They sit at the table, drinking tea, coffee, other beverage of choice, and they’re talking and laughing about Finn’s various failed relationships, the garage business, the latest at McKinley (they keep the newspaper cuttings if it’s of any interest). The conversation is mundane and grey-everyday and just so normal, but to Kurt it feels like freedom. It feels like normality again.
-
But if this is freedom now, what does that make his life with Blaine?
-
It’s the last question hanging to his brain, trying to fight him away from sleep. But in the end, the gift of dreams creeps over him, and he falls once more into darkness.
-
He wakes up, drags himself downstairs to the sound of cooking, looks at the clock.
It’s 12.48. In the afternoon.
“Oh, sweetie, you must be so tired! I’m making lunch for us all, come on, sit down.”
-
Kurt knows who’s stayed in Lima. And those who’ve come back.
Brittany. Puck, just on the outside. Mike with Tina. Maybe some of the others too since.
He asks Burt for the phonebook, the list of numbers, makes a few phone calls, then drives out.
-
It’s been years since he’s seen them. Even spoken to them. Of course there’s Facebook and phones and email and all that, but not since the reunion had he really known what they were doing. Sometimes Tina posts pictures with Katie, who smiles and waves oblivious, and sometimes Mike smiles in the background, or updates on his course, makes faces out of the papers that cover his desk.
And then there’s Brittany, and Lord Tubbington probably knows how to work the internet more than she does.
-
It’s hugs and kisses and good to see you and I’ve missed you and you look great! and a whole general mess of pleasantries as they open the front door. Katie draws on what looks like an essay draft of Mike’s, who tells Kurt how much he’s enjoying his course, that he misses dancing but that there’s no point sitting around waiting for fractured femur to heal when he could be doing something else like learning medicine and that when the course is over, he can decide if he wants to rejoin the world of dance or make a full career move into doctoring - and Kurt laughs with him because doctoring.
Tina joins them a few minutes later, Brittany on her arm, and they kiss and hug and exchange pleasantries once again and Brittany tries to kiss him on the lips a bit full on and no, Britt, this space is for Blaine, before she pulls away and mutters something about Kurt is still her favourite high school boyfriend.
And that’s the only mention Blaine gets all day.
Everyone knows.
No one asks.
Kurt prefers it that way. Not thinking about it. Not when he’s taking a break.
-
It’s good to see old friends again, to relive the old times, laugh about New Directions, and admire Katie’s drawing of five-year-old awareness, and run through each of Brittany’s boyfriends and girlfriends until she finds one that sticks, one who teaches at the same dance school she does, and they’re happy and she wants to get married and for their cats to get married and then they can both have beautiful cat babies and baby babies and what if they’re born on the same day wouldn’t that be awesome?
Kurt tells her to make sure he’s invited to the wedding.
-
Burt and Carole take them all out for a meal that evening. Brittany suggests Breadstix, but they were thinking of something nicer - especially when Brittany starts to tell them why breadsticks are so good, how once she was given too many so she and Santana had gone into the toilet and used them to wait there Britt, that’s enough, we can guess the rest.
“Did you read my mind or just my diary?” she asks them.
In the end, they choose some kind of arty French chic place, where Kurt can enjoy something high-class and Katie can enjoy spaghetti, and everyone is kept happy. So cocktails are downed and wine flows and there’s one coke for Katie then water or juice for the rest of the night, and though Mike holds a glass of wine to her lips for a sip, she takes one sniff and says how bad it smells and wonders why grown-ups like it so much.
-
Kurt packs when he gets back home, ready for an early set-off.
-
He’s up at six, eating breakfast by seven, waving goodbye by eight.
The morning is strangely cold for summer, and there’s static in the air, and their goodbyes hang heavy in their wake.
-
There’s something achingly familiar about the cemetery. Dark shadows creep across the ground, trees silhouetted against the sun. A patchwork of old and new, burning with the force of memories lost, of secrets kept, of frays of ends of webs of life.
He takes the time to walk the legions, notes angels and crosses and the clichés of arching headstones, read the names of sons and daughters and cousins and husbands and wives and fathers and mothers.
-
He locates the grave of Mr and Mrs Anderson somewhere in the sea of peace-slowed time, kneels down, traces the epitaph.
In Loving Memory
George William Anderson
1966-2021
And his faithful wife
Elizabeth Martha Anderson
1968-2021
Per aspera ad astra
Through difficulties to the stars
It’s all very neat, formal, as kept as it can be with Blaine living a day’s drive away. Carved black marble, the odd neglected petal left littering the edges of the grass, and as the sun’s heat slaps down on him, Kurt lays the flowers before the headstone.
“I don’t know what Blaine did when he came here - he always liked to come alone. But when my mom died, I used to go and talk to her, and so did my dad, and it helped, so I hope I can talk to you, too.”
Kurt takes a breath, gathers himself, tries to find the right words.
“I hope you don’t find it strange or anything, me coming here. I mean, we didn’t see each other much at all. A few times when Blaine and I were going out, our wedding - yeah, not many times at all. And this is the first time since your funeral that I’ve even visited the grave.
“I remember standing here in the rain, and Blaine just staring, completely numb, and I held his hand and he didn’t even cry. He didn’t cry at his own parents’ funeral. He felt nothing. And I stayed there until his coat was soaked-through and ruined and he was shivering before I took him home and we didn’t come back until a year later, or rather, Blaine didn’t.
“I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife or not. I don’t think there’s a God, but I’d like to think there is something more to this. A place for everyone. So I can imagine my mom smiling down at me, at my dad, and I know Blaine likes to think you’re both there above him somewhere. It comforts him. Or rather, it comforted him. But I don’t know. I really don’t.
“The thing is, if there isn’t somewhere to go after all this, does that make everything meaningless? Are we worth nothing? Because if we are, why do we matter? Your son has lost his mind and I don’t know what do but after all, what difference does it make? Why am I still there by his side every single day?
“It’s because I love him. I love him more than anything and I hope you can see that. Blaine saved me in the worst time of my life, and what kind of husband would I be not to stay there through his? Yes, husband. I made my promise to be as devoted to him as you both were to each other, and it was one of the hardest, yet one of the easiest things I’ve ever done in my life. And I’ve kept every promise I made to him on that day. I hope you can see that. And I hope you’re happy, because it’s all Blaine deserves to be, and all I try to let him be.
“And I try so hard. Sometimes I feel like I can’t do it anymore, like I can’t cope, but I’m here. I’m still here and Blaine’s still here and we’re getting through this together, okay? Together, by ourselves. We don’t need anyone else. It’s just me and Blaine. And we’re okay. So I hope you know that. That we’re fine. That somewhere, Blaine still loves you and misses you. And that he hopes you’re happy. Just as he hopes you’ll see him happy.”
A cloud passes over the sun, and Kurt shivers at the sudden cold. He stops, takes a breath, then realises he has nothing left to say.
He turns to leave.
-
When Kurt thinks about it, he was glad to have gotten away, had a break from constant caring.
But he’s even happier to be going back home.
-
Finn
Will be back late. Just set out. Maybe not until 11 or midnight or even later. Go to sleep. Don’t stay up. I’ll see you tomorrow.
chapter twelve; part two