Author: dinosaur-idontcare
Title: Only My Heart Knows
Rating: T (but the rating may go up)
Word Count: 6,275
Spoilers: none
Warnings: Language, inaccurate medical information.
Summary: When Kurt woke up, he couldn't remember a thing. Then there was Blaine.
Notes: Future!Klaine, goes AU after prom queen. I own nothing except the ideas and the words. I'm not a doctor. My medical knowledge is based around a few google searches. Complete medical accuracy should definitely not be expected, and it's most definitely not promised.
Enjoy! :)
"Blaine, honey, you've got to go home."
"What? No, why? I know that I wasn't around…and I know that this probably doesn't seem like my place…but please don't make me leave, Mercedes. Please."
"Hon, I'm not asking you to leave, not even a bit. I'm asking you to go home, get some sleep, answer some emails, have a bubble bath or turkey dinner, whatever. I can't remember the last time you left for more than a quick shower and a shitty sandwich from the cafeteria. You really aren't sleeping enough when you're here. Yes-I know you like to sleep here, but go home and have a proper sleep, just this once. I'll stay with him."
They both looked to the boy lying on the bed, not moving. His face was so perfect, and he could have just been sleeping. But he wasn't. The multitude of machines and cords and bags and god knows what else attached to his body testified to that.
"But…what if?"
"Honey, if anything at all changes you'll be the first call I make."
"I…don't want to leave him."
"It's a few hours, Blaine. Just a few hours. That you need. You're going to make yourself sick, not sleeping, barely eating, spending every second in this horrible room. You sick is the last thing he would want. If you can't do this for you, do it for him."
"O-okay." Yet still he hesitated, turning back to the lifeless angel in the too-big hospital bed. Like every time he looked at him, his heart broke just a little bit. That bed made him look so…small. So fragile. "I can be back here in twenty minutes."
"Blaine…it's a half hour drive."
"If he needs me I can probably make it in ten."
"Blaine, baby. Just go. We can hold down the fort for a few hours." When he still hesitated, clearly having trouble pulling himself away, "Go. I will call you."
And he went.
"Oh, boo. That boy...goodness."
Suddenly Blaine's retreating steps stopped, and started approaching again.
"Blaine." the warning in her voice made him almost smile.
"Don't worry, 'Cedes, I'm going. I just…had to say goodbye." His eyes took in her hand wrapped around Kurt's and he felt a twinge. He never just…touched Kurt, never just held his hand, he couldn't and he could scarcely explain to himself why that hurt so fucking bad.
"Boy, it's a few hours."
"Still…I just…I have to."
She smiled softly at him, kissing his cheek and got up, "I'm going to grab myself a cup of coffee then."
"Thanks 'Cedes." he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then took her seat. "Kurt." he whispered, cringing just a little at how rough and worn his voice sounded. Maybe Mercedes was right and he did need some actual sleep. "Kurt. I'm going to go…just for a little while though. And I'll be back here the moment you need me. I'll be back here even if you don't need me, to be honest. I'll be here until you tell me to get out. And then I'll probably just be outside. Because…just because. Please, please…just wake up. We all want to see your eyes, Kurt. We all want to hear you laugh, and sing and just…just see you smile. We just…we need you, Kurt. Mercedes has nobody to be fabulous with, I mean, I try but I pull of 'oh my god Blaine, please just stop before I pee my pants' more than fabulous, generally. And your dad, oh Kurt. He needs you because you're his heart, and you know that far better than I do. And god, I never want to see anybody cry like that ever again. Carole too, she needs you to stop her from wearing high waisted jeans and peasant blouses. And Finn. Maybe you never saw it, but that boy…well he loves you. He does. You're his brother, and he loves you. He needs you to stop him from being an idiot, and he needs you to make him eat his veggies-you know how he forgets. Everyone needs you, Rachel…Quinn…Brittany...Noah…Wes…David. They've all been here. They all visit. They all want to see you and speak to you and tell you just how much they love you. And Kurt…I need you. I can't imagine you not waking up, not laughing at how silly we've all been, worrying about you. You are the strongest person I know. And…you've just got to wake up. Please. The doctors are saying they don't know why you're still like this. They have no idea. They don't know what you'll be like when you wake up, they don't know much of anything. I'm not scared though. You'll still be Kurt. And I'll still-" he choked on the last word and before he could force it out the door opened and there was Mercedes.
"Boy, I know you are not talking my poor baby's ear off when he can't even stop you. Stop thinking so much, honey. Go get some sleep, we'll be here when you get back. Everything is going to be perfectly fine. Love you. Goodbye."
He unlocked his apartment-god, when was he even here last? He couldn't remember-and dropped his coat on the couch. It was October and the air had a bite and leaves where everywhere, the world was a riot of colour. Autumn was Kurt's favourite. He walked into his bedroom, got slowly undressed and then fell face first onto his bed, exhaustion finally washing over him and he passed into dreamless sleep.
The hand within hers twitched ever so slightly. She smiled a bit, and she knew that there was a time when this sad, bitter approximation of a smile would have felt so wrong on her face. Now it felt just right, so familiar that it was a bit scary. The movement of his hand was an uncontrolled muscle spasm, something his body did all on its own. That fact had broken her heart the first time his hand twitched in hers, her heart jumping to her throat, all the movies she had seen leading her to believe that he was waking up at last. She had run for the doctors, but they had gently explained that it was an involuntary movement, and that it meant absolutely nothing. That was the day her new smile had been born. The day she realized it wasn't always like the movies. The day she realized that maybe, just maybe, Kurt wouldn't wake up. That maybe everything wouldn't be okay. His hand moved in hers again, this time gently grasping. She was drawn out of her thoughts as the hand she held suddenly flexed long fingers, before squeezing down on her hand. She looked up to see confused blue eyes looking into hers.
"Kurt. You're awake!"
"Kurt. My name is...Kurt. Kurt Hummel."
"Yes?"
"Good. Okay. But...who are you?"
"DOCTOR!"
Blaine's phone rang, muffled by the coat pocket he had forgotten it in. He rolled over, burying his face in his blankets and on he slept.
"Blaine, where are you? You need to get back here immediately. I hope this means you're finally sleeping, but just…come back as soon as you get this."
Mercedes held Kurt's hand as the doctors looked him over. Her head was buzzing. Kurt, her best friend in the entire world, had no idea who she was.
The beautiful, proud looking girl who he had woken up to-Mercedes?-held his hand. He didn't know her but it felt alright. It felt comfortable, like something he knew even if he couldn't remember.
A flurry of words flew around them. Post-traumatic. Retrograde. Amnesia. And they just clung to each others hands as the doctors explained that the head trauma he had experienced had caused him to lose his memory. His past was a blank to him. They didn't know how long it would take. They didn't know if he would ever remember. They didn't know what the extent of this was. He could feel his entire body shaking.
"Mercedes," she turned to him, hope alight in her eyes "why can I still understand French and I'm pretty sure that I could play a sonata, but I can't remember you. I feel like I should remember you."
"When you said my name…it sounded like it always had. I thought…maybe…"
"You feel familiar. You feel…right. But I still…don't remember anything. I'm so sorry." his eyes had tears in them.
"Oh Kurt-"
The door burst open as Burt, Carole and Finn rushed in, relieved smiles on their faces.
Only to be met with Kurt's blank stare, and Mercedes' pained face. Kurt turned to Mercedes, looking nervous. "Who are they? Should I know them too?"
Mercedes read the heartbreak on their faces, though Finn's was slightly diluted by the confused furrow of his eyebrows.
"Oh Kurt…baby, this is your family."
"…my family?" he stared at them, his lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed, trying to remember. But there was nothing for him to remember. They could have been any random people on the street. But…they were his family.
Carole gasped as tears filled his eyes, crossing the few steps between the door and the bed to lay a soothing hand on his face. "Kurt, honey, you've just woken up. It's okay, it's all going to be okay. Please don't cry, dearest."
He leaned his face into her hand and whispered "I can't remember my own family. I can't remember my own friends. I can't remember people who love me, who I know I love too. I know I love you, but I don't know why because I don't even know who you are."
And as the first tears spilled down his face he closed himself off from these…beloved strangers, shaking off their all too loving hands and words and he curled upon himself, the only thing that was remotely familiar to him, and cried his heart out.
Blaine woke up slowly. He was comfortable, and he felt far better rested than he had since…well for a long time. And yet, despite the comfort and rest he felt…wrong. He didn't like the feeling of waking up without Kurt's gentle breathing from across the room. He didn't like the thought that he might have missed something. He rolled out of bed and all but ran to his bathroom, intending to have the quickest shower possible and be back to Kurt within the hour.
Blaine's phone rang three times before it went to voicemail, him not hearing it over the steady flow of water falling on his head.
"Blaine, dude. Where are you? Something happened. Please come to the hospital. You need to be here too. He needs you…and I think we need you too. Hurry."
The doctors were back, with more prodding and explanations. They told Burt and Carole everything they had said earlier. Amnesia. Kurt Hummel had amnesia. They didn't know when it would go away…if it would ever go away, or if he'd have to start from there, like that morning when he had woken up was the first of his life. One doctor, a tall, gentle woman, looked at him with a soft smile, "Kurt, hon. This might seem silly but can you try your very best to remember…anything. Even if it doesn't seem important, anything from before today." He sifted through his mind, and came upon it. The one memory he had access to.
"It's just…white. A huge, white light. It's not like my mind is blank, it's like that was all I could see. And there is this…roaring sound. It's loud and close. And then I remember waking up here…with Mercedes."
"I would say it's safe to assume you are remembering the last moment before you blacked out…during the accident."
"Oh…right. That makes sense."
"It's a good sign, Kurt. It means your mind hasn't completely lost it's capacity to remember. You're going to have to go through a lot of tests, unfortunately. Now that you're awake we've got to figure out the extent of the damage."
"Can you tell me more about this accident? All I've got is the flash of light and that I ended up in the hospital…wait, how long have I been here?"
"Three months."
"Three months? I…what happened?"
"A pickup truck hit you…drunk driver. You've been in a coma ever since. We've all been waiting for you."
"The four of you?" He looked at Mercedes, eyes wide. "You would wait with me…for me to wake up?"
Four hearts broke at the tone of his voice-surprise.
"Honey, it's more than the four of us. So many people love you, and we've all been here as much as we could be, just being with you. Waiting for you to be ready to wake up."
"…I don't understand."
"Honey, we love you. All of us. So much."
Finn-his brother, apparently?-stalked back into the room snapping shut a cell phone as he did. "No answer"
"I would have chosen today to send him home. I've been trying for weeks and today is obviously the day it would actually happen."
"Mercedes, I forgot to ask but how did you even manage to get him out of here? Remember the last time? We had to wheel him out, unconscious, and he was back two hours later, absolutely furious. He can be kind of scary for such a little dude."
"I—I told him Kurt would hate to see him in such a mess. And I told him nothing would change while he was g-gone." Her voice crackled with barely restrained tears and she had to take a deep breath before she continued, "A-and now everything is c-changed and he isn't here. I p-promised everything w-would be o-okay."
Finn Hudson watched as his brother stared at his best friend in horror and confusion. He watched the way his hand lifted towards her, seemingly out of instinct, before he looked even more confused and a little bit heartbroken and just curled the offending hand up against his chest. He watched his stepfather, the man he had come to respect and love so much in the past years, watch his son, he saw so much in the older man's eyes that he wasn't sure he even wanted to try to understand. The look in Burt Hummel's eyes as he looked at his son was so deeply private that he had to look away. His eyes landed on his mother, his safe haven, because she was always so strong and, as she looked at her second son with such heartbreak in her eyes, something in Finn broke.
Blaine ran out of his apartment, barely remembering to lock the door. And inside, forgotten along with the jacket that had been ignored in his haste to get back, his phone rang.
"Blaine you fucking douche. Everyone is fucking falling apart and you aren't fucking here. He fucking loved you forever and you can't even fucking be here for him now. Fuck you, man. Fuck you. He's my brother and he doesn't know me. He doesn't know his father or his best friend and you aren't fucking here to see Mercedes trying not to cry. And you aren't here to see Burt fucking break and you aren't here to see my fucking mom's eyes. You aren't even here to lie through your teeth and tell everyone you know it'll be alright. You aren't here to look at him like he's the only thing you see. You can be strong and ridiculously present when he's just lying there and it's so damn hard but at least nothing is changing, but you leave and everything is different, and he's sitting up and talking but he doesn't know who he's talking to—not really and you're fucking missing in action. Just…" and here Finn's voice broke and he realized what he was doing and he quieted down because maybe he was swearing and yelling a bit too much for a quiet hospital hallway "please come back, Blaine. You're one of us now. You're family. And we need you here. He needs you here." And Finn closed the phone and slowly slid down the wall, his head in his hands. His mind wouldn't stop replaying everything that had happened. From the first time he saw fierce, brave Kurt broken and bruised and barely breathing in that stupid bed, to Kurt sitting up, confused and scared with that blank look in his eyes, to his heartbroken family. And all too suddenly hot tears were falling down his face.
Blaine was at a stop light when he realized he didn't have his phone. With a shrug he turned up the radio and smiled. He would be seeing Kurt soon enough, who cared if he missed a text or two from Wes or Rachel or whoever. He wondered if it was weird to be content to spend all his time looking at the motionless, beautiful boy in that bed, that he had stopped basically everything just to be at his side. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from wandering down the path that still terrified him so completely, even after all that time. Then a song he knew came on so Blaine turned the music up and sang along as loudly as he could.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I wish…I wish I could remember. I want to remember so badly. Anything at all. I…I'm sorry that you've all waited so long and it's for nothing. I don't know anyone but…myself."
"What can you tell me about yourself?" the gentle doctor smiled at him.
"I'm Kurt Hummel. My birthday is June 23rd…I'm twenty-two. I speak fluent French, I can play the piano. I could make you a souffle right now, from scratch. And there's always music. I love music. "
"Can you remember any specific music?"
"Kind of. Only stupid songs though. The snack that smiles back until you bite it's head off!" he flashed a wry smile as he sang the goldfish jingle, "Stuff like that. There's other music, but I can't quite remember it. It's strange. It's like..." he looked at his hands which were knotted in the thin, itchy hospital blanket. "I think I associated everything in my life with music. I don't have any of that music without the memories."
The doctor made a gentle humming sound and then said "What if we were to-"
Blaine walked into the hospital, oddly elated to be back there at last. One elevator and two hallways and he'd see Kurt's face, hear him breathing and the weight that rested on his chest every time Kurt was out of his sight would be gone, finally. Even in sleep he never quite escaped it. He thought vaguely back to his non-dreams and realized that the long weeks of a crappy cot and frequently bypassing sleep to look at the way the moonlight made Kurt into something entirely ethereal were all that had made that trek home restful in any way. And maybe he had needed it, but he needed to be back even more. He stepped out of the elevator to see a body slumped against the wall, head in his hands. And a wracking sob broke through. Suddenly Blaine's world narrowed down to those shaking shoulders, and that horrible, horrible broken sound.
"Finn?" Please be someone else, please don't be who I think you are.
He looked up slowly and Blaine saw tears and red rimmed eyes and a running nose and his mind cut out for a second. He couldn't hear or see or think. Because Finn was crying. Strong, brave, I'm-too-much-of-a-man-to-break-down-and-cry Finn. And he was crying.
"Blaine…dude. It's Kurt. He—."
Blaine didn't hear the rest because he was too busy running down the hallway, Finn standing clumsily behind him, stumbling a bit as he made to follow. It's Kurt. It's Kurt. It's Kurt. Blaine could only hear those words repeated over and over in that voice that he didn't want to analyse until he had seen for himself. Finn loved Kurt—maybe not the way Kurt had wished way back in their sophomore year, but he did love him. And the tall boy had sounded wrecked. And Blaine couldn't think about what would cause Finn, with his constant need to appear unshaken, an unbreakable wall between the people he loved and the world, to look like that, to break in the middle of the hall and cry.
He slammed the door open, Finn right at his back.
"Blaine!"
All the eyes in the room turned to him. There was Burt Hummel, a man who had once literally drawn a shotgun on him, still looking protective as hell, but also scared and shaken. There was Carole, accepting, silently understanding and sweet. There was Mercedes, who had promised to call him, who had promised everything would be okay, but he had seen Finn crying and he didn't know what anything meant. There was a tall blonde woman with kind eyes and a coat that screamed doctor.
All he wanted was to look at the bed but he couldn't. His head was screaming that he had to just look, just see, he had to know. His heart was screaming that looking to that bed might be the breaking point. That maybe he wouldn't be strong enough to see what had broken Finn. His head and his heart fought, and all he could feel was this numbness and terror and he didn't know what to do at all.
"Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life."
The doctor was interrupted as the door slammed open and a man came rushing in.
And things came rushing back.
Kurt was suddenly sixteen again. And there was a beautiful boy standing in front of him, singing and smiling.
This man wasn't singing and he certainly wasn't smiling. His terrified eyes flashed from face to face, but they never landed on Kurt. He was dimly aware of Finn hulking behind him in the doorway, he was vaguely aware of the surprise on all the faces in the room. But none of that mattered.
Because he had remembered something. Because of this man.
His hair was longer, and no longer tamed by massive amounts of product, his face was stubbly and he looked more worn than he had at sixteen. But those wide, frightened eyes were the same as the smiling eyes in his memory.
And then he realized he had a song. He could remember a song, the first words he had ever heard sung by the most beautiful voice he had ever known. He smiled a bit at how relevant the lyrics were.
"Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life."
Blaine, for all his reluctance to look towards that bed, almost gave himself whiplash when he heard Kurt's voice. It wasn't as pure as it had been when they were sixteen, it was worn by time and experience and disuse, and it was still the most beautiful sound Blaine had ever, would ever know. And then hazel eyes met blue and nothing else mattered. Not the gasps of surprise from Mercedes and Carole and Burt. Not the confused look on Finn's face. Not the smile on the doctor's face. Because Kurt's eyes were open.
The man snapped out of whatever trance he had gone into when their eyes met, and before Kurt really knew what was happening he was standing at his side, still staring into his eyes. Kurt was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to grab onto his man and hold him forever. Which was entirely inappropriate because he still didn't really have any idea who this man was. But he had also been in a coma for three months, and he was scared and confused and this man, whoever he was, was literally the only thing he could remember at all. So he reached out a thin, pale hand to touch the tanned, calloused one that lay on the rail of his bed.
At his touch the man jumped and then whirled to Mercedes and said "What's wrong with him?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well it's nice to see he hasn't lost his bitch face." Finn said casually from across the room.
"What's wrong with him?" Blaine demanded once more. Because something was definitely wrong. Kurt had touched him. If everything was the same, that wouldn't have happened.
He ignored the affronted look on Kurt's face, he ignored the way his head was spinning and his heart was pounding and his hand was on fire, and he looked from Mercedes to the doctor.
"Someone tell me. Now."
There was something in Blaine's voice that seemed to frighten everyone else. That he was a bit frightened of. Something wild, barely contained. And nobody was saying anything.
"I have amnesia. Post-traumatic, retrograde. I can remember physical things, or impersonal things. But my own memories, my past...they're just not there. Except for..." Kurt cut himself off, looking down at his lap where his hands were curled together. His fingers tingled from where they had touched the man. He didn't know what that meant, and it terrified him just a little bit.
"Oh."
"Yep. And on that note, who exactly are you?"
"I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."
"Right, so why would I remember you?"
"I thought you didn't remember anything."
"I didn't. Then you walked in here, and suddenly I remembered you singing, once upon a time. And your hair is longer, and your eyes are sadder, but I remembered you. I...remember you. So tell me, Blaine Anderson, what does that mean? Why would I remember you singing some...stupid fucking song, fucking six years ago, when I can't fucking remember my fucking family? When I can't fucking remember anything else, but I can remember you with your fucking insane amounts of hair product and your fucking perfect voice. And just...who the fuck are you?" His voice broke and, once again, tears were spilling down his face.
"I-" Blaine's panicked eyes flashed from Kurt to everyone else in the room. And his hand ran through his curls and he wanted to pull Kurt to his chest and hold him there forever, protect him from everything that made him cry. But Blaine made him cry. So how could he protect Kurt when it was always his fault?
The man...Blaine stared at him, and maybe he didn't know how expressive his hazel eyes were but Kurt watched the struggle going on behind them until Blaine suddenly turned on his heel and walked into the hallway.
The room suddenly felt a thousand times bigger, and a thousand times smaller. It suddenly felt like there was not enough air. He couldn't breathe, he gasped for air in short, broken sobs. And then Mercedes was there, her arms around him.
"Shhh, baby, shhh. Don't worry about Blaine. This is...difficult for everyone. But I can tell you right now, he isn't gone. He's probably standing right outside that door, shaking like a leaf, trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. Blaine's just like that, and you kind of bring out the crazy in the poor boy."
"I don't understand, Mercedes. Who is he?"
"You've known him for a long time."
"I'm in love with him, aren't I?"
"Oh Kurt."
And that was all the answer he needed.
Mercedes was right.
Blaine leaned up against the wall directly across from Kurt's door, staring at nothing. His heart was still pounding, and his hand was still burning where Kurt had touched him.
Carole slipped out of the room, a gentle smile on her face.
"Blaine." Her voice was so soft, and so sweet, and Blaine was so broken.
Finn watched Mercedes whisper to his brother. He watched Burt hover, unsure of what to do. His mother had gone to Blaine, because she always just knew. Kurt's eyes flashed up to his face, over-bright and suddenly focussed.
"Get Blaine, Finn. Please."
Finn nodded and slipped out of the room to find Blaine crying in his mother's arms.
"Oh, Blaine, honey. It's all going to be alright." Her hand was rubbing soothing circles across his back and her eyes had tears in them when they met Finn's.
"Uh...Blaine?"
Blaine looked up, seemingly a little bit flustered to be caught crying on Carole's shoulder. "Mhm?" he whispered, as he tried to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.
"Kurt. He uh, asked for you."
The door opened and Blaine walked back in.
He had clearly been crying.
Kurt felt like his heart was breaking-and wasn't that absolutely frightening?-He had never felt anything like the physical pain this other man's sadness caused in his chest, or maybe he had. He just didn't remember it.
"D-dad...Mercedes...could you give us a moment? I'd...like to speak to Blaine. Alone."
Mercedes kissed his cheek softly and then walked to Blaine and hugged him tight. Kurt was sure she whispered something in the other man's ear.
Burt Hummel stared down at his son for a moment and then nodded and walked out without acknowledging Blaine at all.
"I think he's hurt that I remember you and not him." Kurt whispered to Blaine once everyone was gone. "I don't know how to help that though. I wish I remembered all of them."
Blaine stayed near the door, not looking at Kurt. Looking carefully at anything that wasn't Kurt, actually.
"Blaine."
Hazel eyes flashed to blue, surprised and scared and a thousand other things that Kurt could barely understand.
"Come here please."
Blaine didn't tell his body to move, all he knew was the he was suddenly at Kurt's side, still locked in the depths of those eyes.
"Can you do me a favour...please?" Blaine nodded mutely. "Can you...just speak for a second. Tell me what it was like when I wasn't here or something. I just...I need to check something. Could you please?"
"Y-yeah, okay. What do you want...what should I..."
"Anything. Just...talk." When Blaine still looked kind of lost Kurt whispered "Tell me about when you found out...and go from there?"
"Okay. Yeah. I can do that."
A hand swiped through unruly curls and Kurt's mind flashed to frantic studying before exams, soft hair free from gel and standing almost straight up from the abuse being inflicted by nervous hands.
"Why are you so nervous?"
"W-what?"
"Blaine, you only do that," He gestured to the hand still tangled in his hair, "when you're nervous."
"How do you know that?"
"I remembered it. Just now. I keep remembering things about you. I don't understand it, so don't ask. Sometimes you do things and I just...recognize them. But I recognize them in specific context. With Mercedes and Carole and Dad and Finn they feel familiar, but I can't place it. With you, there are actual flashes of things. Actual reasons why you're familiar. Why you feel like home."
"I was in England...when I found out. About the accident."
"E-England? You weren't..here?"
"No. I haven't lived here in three years."
"Why?"
"I had no reason to be here."
Seven words and Kurt feels like his entire world has spiralled away. Not that his world was a solid thing anyways, but now it's just dark and terrifying, and Blaine had no reason to be there.
"Oh."
"So, I was living in England, working on a novel. I was living in this flat in downtown London. I was sitting by the window, staring into the street with my laptop in front of me and my phone started ringing. I looked at the screen and it was a number I never thought I'd see again. So I answered."
"Whose number?"
"Yours."
"Oh."
"But it wasn't you on the other end. It was Mercedes. And she told me you had been in an accident three days before. And that things weren't looking so good. And she was crying, and she told me that if I wanted my chance to say goodbye, I'd better get my ass here as soon as I could. She told me if I didn't want to come I didn't have to, but that she thought I deserved to know, at least. Your heart stopped during that phone call. I was doing the worlds quickest packing job, and getting the details from her and I heard you flatline. I heard it through the phone, I heard Mercedes' scream your name. I heard people rushing around. She dropped the phone but I was still on the line. I was standing in the middle of that flat and you were dead, an ocean away. It was..maybe only a minute...possibly two. I don't know. For me, it was forever. I stood there and I couldn't move or think or breathe and...and...you died. You were dead." Suddenly Blaine's eyes flashed up to the startled look on Kurt's face and he flinched, "Oh. I-I wasn't going to tell you that. Crap. Fuck. Shit. I wasn't going to...and..." Blaine's voice broke a little bit, he was staring at nothing. His face had paled and he was holding onto the bedrail like it was the only thing keeping him standing. His eyes were unfocused, seeing something else, full of terror and tears and Kurt was pretty sure his heart couldn't handle much more time with this version of Blaine. Because when Blaine was broken, Kurt was broken too.
"Blaine." Gentle, easing him out of whatever he was reliving. "Blaine, I didn't die. I'm not dead. I'm here. I'm awake. I'm not perfect and I'm kind of especially broken right now, but I am here. Stop. Please, just...stop."
"Kurt." His name came out like a sob, and it was the first time Blaine had said it since he stepped into the hospital room.
"Kurt." Blaine breathed his name in the space between their lips, "I-I love you." Hazel eyes widened, and he had never said that before, but god, he meant it. Blue eyes had widened and Blaine was brought back to the first time he had kissed him, over a casket for a dead bird, of all things, and he had rambled and stumbled his way towards that kiss, and Kurt had looked just like this then too. Shocked, surprised, like he was trying to figure out what was real. "You don't have to say it back. You don't have to love me too. I...I have terrible timing, clearly. Because I kissed you over a coffin and I just told you I love you in a parking lot. God what's wrong with me? I'm the least romantic person in the entire world, clearly. But it's...it's true. I just should have shouted it from a rooftop or serenaded you. This should have been perfect, you deserve perf-mmph" His incessant rambling was cut off by Kurt's lips and he could have stayed that way forever. But Kurt pulled back and laughed a little bit.
"Blaine. I love you. This is perfect. You are perfect, I love everything about you, Blaine. Including your terrible timing."
More kisses, more I love you's in the spaces between their lips. Perfect.
When the sudden memory let him go, Kurt knew he was crying. Because now he knew that Blaine had definitely loved him once, it wasn't just an unrequited painful longing for his best friend like he had started to suspect. It was love. They had been in love. And now Blaine jumped away when Kurt touched him and he lived in England.
He felt Blaine's hand hovering close to his cheek, near the burning trails left by his tears. "Please don't cry." Blaine whispered, "I don't know what you remembered but please, please don't cry."
"H-how do you know I r-remembered something?"
"I can see it in your eyes. They aren't quite here when the memories hit you. You go somewhere else. You go back to...wherever."
"I think it's b-because my brain struggles to grasp anything, so I can't remember a-and focus all at once."
"What were you remembering, Kurt? Why did it make you cry?"
"No. I...I just can't tell you that."
"Me, then? Because you're kind of an open book. You kind of tell everyone everything. You used to tell me everything...you always had more trouble with it though...when you thought it might...hurt me...or be something I didn't want to hear."
"..."
"What type of tears are these?" Blaine said, looking sad as his fingers swept just above Kurt's skin, never touching.
"Salty."
"Kurt." he admonished, his face soft with amusement, but also stern with his need for proper answers, "Good or bad?"
"Both. It's always both, with you."
"Explain?"
"I'm tired Blaine. Please don't make me do this right now."
"Okay, want me to get your dad?"
"No. Please stay...well...if you want to."
"Always."
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. 3
Next chapter should be up soon! :)