It's been a long time. I was waiting for the new season to start to publish something new. I'm behind on a couple of stories that I had started, but I needed to write and post this first. For Finn. For Cory.
I know it was a shock to everyone in the Glee fandom out there, and I trust that RIB and Co. will do a great job with the tribute episode. But this is kind of cathartic for me, to write about it, in my usual style, which is the Klaine P.O.V. Because it's what makes me feel a little less sad about the whole thing.
Bear in mind, this was written before we got the spoilers regarding Klaine that we've gotten recently, before all the videos and pictures we've gotten of the first two episodes.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Glee belongs to RIB & Co. and FOX. The song "Wonderful" belongs to Stone Temple Pilots.
Wonderful
by HappyValentina
The afternoon sun was uncharacteristically warm and bright for October. The sound of birds and rustling of leaves in the wind were sweet and relaxing. It was like the weather was mocking them.
The house was somber in contrast, a parade of dark-clothed people speaking in hushed tones and walking with bowed heads and averted eyes. The air inside was almost suffocating.
Blaine leaned against the dining room doorframe, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching everything and everyone. He wasn't sure if he had ever processed the whole thing by now. All he knew is that he needed to be calm and collected, for his own sake, but mostly for the sake of the people he cared about.
He watched with a heavy heart the arrival of relatives, friends and acquaintances, teachers and old rivals. People who had been touched, one way or another, and wished to pay their respects.
He watched as Mr and Mrs Schue talked quietly to the Glee kids and other students.
He watched as the old New Directions huddled together, in hushed conversation, a comforting hand on the back, a hug.
Rachel and Carole had been inseparable all day. They sat side by side on a couch, clutching each other's hands tightly. They smiled and nodded politely to anyone who approached. When left alone, they just breathed together. Occasionally one of Rachel's dads would put an arm around her and kiss her temple, but the two women seemed to be the only thing keeping the other from falling apart.
Blaine took a deep breath. He didn't know what to do. All he wanted was to make sure that everyone around him would be okay.
Burt suddenly walked past him briskly, making him look up in surprise.
"Burt, what's wrong?" Blaine asked, turning around quickly, ready. He'd been watching Burt a lot today, concerned; the man had a lot in his plate, and if there was absolutely anything that Blaine could do to unburden him at least a little, he needed to do it.
Burt sighed to himself. "I can't find Kurt, I think he went upstairs when we got back."
"I'll go check up on him," Blaine said before Burt could say anything else. The older man ran a hand over his bald head, huffing in frustration and every emotion he was reining in. He finally nodded, eyes pleading and a small smile of gratitude. Blaine smiled and nodded back and started up the staircase.
Halfway upstairs he had felt a kind of relief to be out of that part of the house, so overpopulated by the heavy mood. He needed to get away from that for a bit, it was just too much. But when he reached the second floor, he was assaulted by another kind of dread.
He had no idea what he was supposed to say to Kurt. They had barely even spoken since even before the funeral. There were just no words. All Blaine had been able to do was keep it together as best as he could in front of Kurt, just be there for him, just support him and rub his back and give him tissues. It was enough, he hoped. He still wished he could do more.
When Burt called Kurt in New York to let him know, Kurt had been between classes walking in the middle of a crowded NYADA hallway with no one to support him, until one of the teachers noticed he was having a breakdown and told him to go home. He had been the one burdened with telling Rachel, even though he was still in the middle of processing it himself. He had to pack hastily and take the first flight home, and it was the longest and most unpleasant flight he'd ever taken, sitting beside Rachel, clutching her hand, barely able to contain his own grief.
People would give Kurt their condolences, and he'd just nod and smile through his tears and thank them, and occasionally exchange a few words. All the while squeezing Blaine's hand as if he were holding on to dear life.
Blaine had no idea what to do, how to make it all okay, but he had to try to do something. If there was one person he needed to be there for, it was Kurt.
He walked toward Kurt's old bedroom and knocked lightly. "Kurt?"
There was no response. Blaine pushed the door open carefully and peeked inside.
Kurt was curled up in bed, eyes closed, shoes kicked off, still wearing his dark suit except for the jacket, and clutching a pillow to his chest.
Blaine stepped toward the bedside hesitantly. In the sunlight, Kurt's face was a mask of calmness, betrayed only by the faint tracks of tears on his cheeks. He looked peaceful and relaxed, and Blaine wouldn't have wanted to wake him up for anything in the world. In fact, what he most wanted was to lie next to him and pull him into his arms and stay like that until everything stopped hurting.
Kurt stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes glistening with unspilled tears, and he looked up.
"I'm sorry, I-I woke you up," Blaine said, blushing, and started backing toward the door slowly.
"I wasn't asleep," Kurt said in a groggy whisper, sniffing. He rubbed his eyes and dried his cheeks, and propped himself up on one elbow.
"Oh," Blaine blinked, still embarrassed. "Um, can I get you anything? Some water? Do you want me to go... or get your dad... or something?"
"No, no, it's okay," Kurt replied, reaching for the box of tissues. It wasn't on his bedside table, but on his dresser. Blaine scrambled over to it and handed it to Kurt.
"Thanks," Kurt breathed, grabbing one and putting the box on the nightstand. He dabbed at his eyes with the tissue and sniffed again.
"Are you sure you don't need anything?" Blaine asked worriedly. "Should I just leave?"
Kurt looked at him. "Please don't," he said in a small broken voice. "Please just stay, at least for a bit."
Had this been a completely different situation, Blaine would've felt happier and excited that Kurt was asking him to stay. But he was sad and afraid, and he needed company as much as Kurt did.
"Okay," was all he said, voice catching painfully in his throat. He sat beside Kurt on the bed, but Kurt laid back down against the pillows, pulling Blaine closer, and wrapping his arms around his torso. Blaine was so surprised, that it took him a moment to relax; he put his arms around Kurt, protectively, reassuringly.
He felt Kurt's breathing against his own chest, the slow steady rhythm, and he knew he shouldn't be feeling happy, but somehow he did, just a little bit, to be able to do this. To be a source of some comfort.
He had no idea when they both fell asleep, or how long they were asleep, but when he woke up, the sun was finally going down, and the air was a bit chilly. He felt stiff and uncomfortable, yet rested.
Kurt moved against him, inhaling deeply. Blaine tried to look at his face, but in that position all he could see was his tousled hair, and he fought the urge to bury his face in it. He felt Kurt's fingers clutching at the back of his shirt, and his warm breath tickle his skin through his shirt, followed by a loud sniff. Blaine froze.
"I'm cursed, Blaine. I'm doomed to lose every person that I love."
The sound of his voice was suddenly the most heartbreaking thing Blaine had ever heard.
"Don't think like that," was all he could think of saying. Kurt shook his head.
"It's true. I lost my mother, I almost lost my father twice, and now I lost my brother, and it's-"
"You're not cursed, Kurt."
"It's only a matter of time before I lose my dad once and for all. What do I do then? What if I lost you?"
"You're not gonna lose us."
Kurt's watery voice was partially muffled by Blaine's chest.
"Why did Finn have to die?" he sobbed. "Why does anyone have to die?"
"Kurt," Blaine said feebly. The hands clutched harder, and Blaine held him tighter, hoping against hope that it would be enough to keep Kurt from falling apart.. "Kurt, look at me."
The face that looked up at him was raw with despair. Blaine had no idea how many times now he had to look into Kurt's beautiful eyes and see so much pain, see them clouded over with grief, but it had been too many. Tears sprung to his own eyes.
"I know it's hard, and I know it's too fresh, but it's going to be okay," he said, his own voice trembling. "I know this because you're the bravest, strongest person I've ever met-"
Kurt rolled away from him and onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes and shook his head.
"No, I'm not. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of having to put on a brave face. I can't take this, I can't do this anymore..."
"Yes, you can," Blaine replied, prying Kurt's arm away, and looking him straight in the eye. "You are that strong. If anyone is going to get through this, it's you. You're going to be okay. You and your family and Rachel, and all of us, we will all find a way to be okay."
He wiped a few tears from Kurt's face with his thumb. "I know it, and Finn knew it."
Kurt's sobs subsided. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Blaine took one of his hands in his own and interlaced their fingers.
"Remember when we started going out, and you were telling me all about your family and how you helped your dad and Carole get together, and even though Finn was a little iffy at first, he suddenly realized you were the brother he had always wanted and he was yours?"
"It feels like I was only starting to know him," Kurt muttered, sniffling.
"But you did know him. You of all people, you and your family, and all of us, we helped him become the person that he was. But most importantly you did. He said so himself."
Kurt wiped his cheeks over and over.
"He was one of the good ones. And it hurts that he's gone because of it," Blaine said. Kurt nodded.
"I miss him," he whispered. Blaine pulled Kurt to his chest again.
"I miss him too. We all do. I'm sorry that he died. I'm sorry that I can't bring him back for you. I wish I could. I wish none of us had to feel this way. But you'll have to let go of this anger eventually. The rest of us are still here, and we need you. I need you."
"You are not cursed. And you're not going to lose me. You'll never lose me. I promise."
Kurt shook his head, sniffing.
"I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm just, I really don't know what to do with myself right now..."
"I know, sweetheart."
Blaine started humming and singing very quietly, running his fingers lightly, soothingly, up and down Kurt's back. Cooper used to sing that song to him, back when Blaine was still a kid. It was one of those rare moments of tenderness between them, that almost made up for all the teasing and the roughing up. The lyrics were oddly appropriate now, so much that it made him cry a little himself. He suddenly missed his brother like crazy. Now more than ever, he needed to call him and tell him that he loved him.
Know you'll be safe but not alone...
"Feel better?" he asked after a moment.
Kurt shook his head no. Blaine sighed and rested his cheek on the top of Kurt's head.
"I figured as much. Don't worry, I'll still be here."
You know what? On second thought this didn't make me feel any less sad at all.
Why oh why did I do that? Whatever made me rewatch 'Furt' and then write a fic about Finn's passing? I'm a mess and it's my own fault.
But yes, this was inspired in its majority by Finn's speech at Burt and Carole's wedding.
"And today, a new union was formed: Furt. You and me, man. We're brothers from another mother. And quite frankly no one else has shown me as much as you about what it means to be a man. From now on, no matter what it costs me, I've got your back."
Ugh, this season is going to be so awful...
Thank you for reading, though. I hope you liked it anyway.
-Vale.