"Will you tell me about her?" Blaine asked quietly, looking at Kurt through his long lashes, opening the photo album on his lap.
Kurt hmmed softly and scooted closer to the headboard, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder, one hand wrapping around Blaine's bicep, the other sliding down his arm to intertwine their fingers.
Blaine traced the edges of the worn photographs with his free hand, not saying anything, not encouraging Kurt to talk, just waiting, just enjoying being close.
After a long moment, Kurt inhaled deeply.
"I haven't looked at these in a while," he whispered. "Dad helped me put it together right after she died; I used to flip through it before I went to bed and then I'd just sleep with it under my pillow. I remember thinking it would help me dream about her."
When he fell silent again, Blaine squeezed his fingers. "Kurt, you don t have to-"
He shook his head against Blaine's shoulder. "I don't mind." He looked up at Blaine. "Really. I- Sometimes it's nice talking about her, it helps me remember her. It's been so long that my memories get kind of fuzzy around the edges. Talking about her kind of brings them back into focus."
Blaine nodded. "Do you ever talk to your dad about her?"
"Sometimes. For a long time after she died, we kind of just didn't bring her up. It hurt too much for both of us. I think it was harder on him though - he kind of had to keep it together for me. I'd hear him crying at night sometimes, but it was kind of an unspoken agreement that we didn't talk about it. I really don't know what I would do without him." He took a deep breath. "Now that Carole and Finn are around, I feel like - I don't know, like I want to keep her to myself. Does that make sense?"
"I think it does. Finn doesn't talk to you about his dad, does he?"
Kurt shook his head, "Not much. Sometimes they come up, but he sort of shuts down afterwards. I think it's part of why Finn and I got along so well; even though we're such different people, we both know what it's like to have that piece of us missing." He tucked his feet under himself, moving his hand from around Blaine's arm to turn the page in the album. Blaine's eyes bugged and Kurt brought his hand up to cover his face.
"Cute baby butt!"
"I kind of completely forgot about these. Next page, please."
They sat close together, Kurt reclaiming his grip on Blaine s arm, flipping slowly through the pages, laughing softly at the stories and memories the old photographs brought up, Kurt sniffling through his laughter.
The healthy young woman in the beginning of the album slowly gave way to one with heavy looks, pale skin, looking older than her years. The smiling, carefree son and husband became stressed with tired eyes. Kurt buried his face in Blaine s shoulder when the memories became too much. Blaine closed the album, squeezing Kurt's hand in his, bringing his free hand up to rub the back of Kurt's neck.
"I'm okay," Kurt breathed into Blaine's sleeve. "I'm okay."
"How did she die?" he asked after a beat.
Kurt took a steadying breath and looked down at the closed book. "I was seven when she started getting sick. I remember it all happened really quickly. I didn't really understand it then, but when they found the cancer, they said it was already so far along that-" he closed his eyes. "It didn't take long. Part of me is kind of glad. I think it would've been worse to see her-" His voice broke off.
"Suffer for a long time?" Blaine quietly supplied. Kurt nodded, sniffling. Blaine suppressed the shiver than ran through him.
"Do you think she knew you were gay?"
"I think so." Kurt breathed out a soft laugh, "When I came out to my dad last year, he said he'd known since I was three. When I asked for a pair of sensible heels for my birthday."
Blaine grinned and kissed Kurt's temple, "Yeah, that sounds like you."
"I guess if he knew, they must've talked about it at some point. I like to think that if she did know, she'd be proud of who I am now. Out and proud and all that."
"She would be," Blaine said without hesitation. "I'm proud of you."
Kurt looked up at him questioningly.
"You haven't changed since we met... Well in little ways you have; overall you're still the same person you were. You're just stronger now. You've changed me. From the beginning it was always me telling you to have courage, but you've had it all along. It was me who didn't. But I'm getting there, you know? Being with you... I feel like a different person, Kurt. A better person."
Kurt let out the breath he'd been holding, his eyes filling with tears. "God I wish she d gotten to meet you. She would love you so much."
Blaine kissed him again and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close, letting him cry.
"You know, I've never really told anyone all this stuff about her," Kurt croaked, rubbing his cheeks. "When my dad was sick, I sang about him and my mom's funeral in glee. Even Mercedes- she's one of my best friends, she was the first person I ever told I was gay, but I can't talk to her about my mother. How screwed up is that?"
Blaine hummed his agreement and let Kurt continue. "Any time she was brought up, 'Cedes would go on about how she's in heaven now and she's always watching over me and isn't it better now that she's with god? And I just want to scream no, it's not better. Fuck watching over me, fuck being in a better place, I just want to be able to go to my mom when I have a bad day or get bullied or fall in love and want her to meet my boyfriend," he bit his lip to stop himself from rambling. "It just isn't fair."
"It isn't," Blaine agreed, looking back down at the abandoned album. "But Mercedes means well, you know that. Different methods of coping, that's all."
"I know," Kurt nodded. "It's just as unfair of me to blame her." He rubbed his face again. "Sorry for the freak out."
"Don't be. Come on. Tell me more about her," he opened the book, finding the page where they'd left off.
Kurt closed his eyes and huffed out his annoyance, stretching out his shoulders and breathing evenly to settle his features and mood. He curls back into Blaine's side, opening the book to a random page and continued to reminisce.