"Blaine, it's been three months."
"Blaine, you need to move on."
"Blaine, this isn't healthy."
"Blaine, Kurt wouldn't have wanted this for you."
"Blaine, you have to let him go."
It was always the last one that got him. He couldn't just let Kurt go. Kurt was everything to him. It had been three months since the accident but he still felt as empty as the day he found out about the crash.
At 18, Blaine Anderson felt like he had lost everything.
Sunday afternoon.
That was when it happened.
3:48 on a sunny day in Ohio.
Precisely.
Kurt had bid goodbye to Blaine a few minutes ago and was on his way back home. The Smiths was playing on the radio and he was trying to savor the taste of Blaine on his lips. He had gone to Blaine's house with the purpose of studying but all discipline flew out the window when Blaine started nipping his earlobe whilst he was reading about Thomas Becket.
Kurt smiled softly to himself as his mind went back to the two of them cuddling on Blaine's bed. Blaine had his arms wrapped tightly around Kurt and was nuzzling into his neck. Kurt had felt so happy that he was quite sure his heart was smiling.
He turned right and yelped as a speeding car flew towards him. He swerved quickly and let out a sigh of relief as the vehicle rushed past him. He was already spinning out what he was going to tell Blaine about his near death experience and how they both really had to stop holding make out sessions when Kurt was meant to be studying.
Kurt could already see Blaine's pout at Kurt's future words and chuckled. What Kurt didn't see was the truck coming behind him driven by a man who was too drunk to focus on the Navigator in front of him. The man who wasn't aware that the Navigator was driven by a young boy so full of love who would soon break the heart of another young boy who would hear the news about the accident on television whilst eating dinner with his parents, a boy who would rush to the hospital and hold the one who he had given everything to through his last breath.
"Blaine, I'm taking you to see a counselor."
"I don't need one."
"Yes you bloody well do.
"I'm fine."
"It's been eight months."
"Well aware of that."
"All you do is go to school, go through classes like a zombie and acknowledge none of your friends, come back home and hide in your room."
"And what's the problem with that?"
"Look. I know Kurt's death scarred you. It scarred all of us-"
"You don't care about him."
"I do-"
"Then why did you never show it? You could've come to our performance for West Side Story, or tuned in to see our duet on television during Christmas. You could've said a simple hello when he came over. You could've treated him well but all you gave him was crap and silence. So no, you don't care about him. Don't even get me started on Father."
"Okay, fair enough. I didn't treat him well and I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to him.
"Please Blaine. Please go talk to someone. I hear you at night, talking to someone, talking to Kurt."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Just one meeting Blaine. Please."
"Fine."
"She wants me to talk to someone."
"A counselor?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because she thinks I'm mental, like there's something wrong with me. She thinks that ever since you died, I've become this alien to her who's taken away her son."
No reply was given, except for a sympathetic smile.
"You do know that I love you right?"
"I know. I love you too."
Blaine lifted his hand to cup his cheek, "Kurt, do you remember when you said we'll be together forever?"
"Of course."
"Did you mean it?"
"I mean everything I say to you."
Blaine sighed as he felt Kurt's lips press against his palm.
"Stay in my arms if you dare," Blaine sang softly.
"Or must I imagine you there."
"Don't walk away from me."
"I have nothing, nothing,"
"If I don't have you," Blaine whispered, letting himself get lost in the sea blue eyes that have haunted him for the past three months.
"Hello Blaine, take a seat."
Blaine sat.
"I'm Amanda Reeves, nice to meet you."
Blaine was silent.
"Just one meeting right?"
Blaine nodded.
"I heard about the accident."
"Who hasn't?"
"I'm so sorry."
"It's fine."
"Three months, right?"
"Three months, a week and four days."
"Do you miss him?"
"Every day. He's still here though."
"Blaine, Kurt is dead. You have to accept that."
"Hush, he can hear you."
"Where is he at the moment?"
Blaine lifted his hand and held it to his heart.
Sometimes before Blaine went to sleep, he would think of past memories with Kurt. It was usually one of the two of them last summer on the beach. The sun was warm on their backs as they bathed in the sunlight, legs buried in the sand.
Blaine had picked up a handful of seashells and had outlined Kurt's figure with them. Kurt had laughed, rolling his eyes with affection. They built a sandcastle together and Kurt had written the words "Our Castle of Forever" around it.
They had gone swimming in the ocean despite Kurt's protests that the salt water would damage his pores. They dived to the bottom, letting small fish swim around their fingers and pretended to be famous explorers diving for treasure. Blaine acted like a mermaid for a few minutes for Kurt's amusement, causing Kurt to have to surface because he was laughing so hard.
They lay on the sand, letting the rays of the sun dry their legs. They smelt of salt and sand and wind. They shared long lazy kisses, tangling their arms and legs together, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin.
Afterwards, Kurt found a conch and brought it back home, smiling as he held his ear to it. "Now I can visit the beach any time I want," he had said to Blaine on the ride back, tracing the hard shell of the conch lightly.
"He meant a lot to you, didn't he?"
"He meant everything to me."
"But you can't hold on to him forever."
"We said forever."
"Forever's an awfully long time."
"I know but I'm willing to spend it with him."
"Let him go."
"I've tried. It's not easy."
"It's never going to be. But you need to carry on living Blaine."
"What's the point?"
Amanda sighed.
"I know you're trying to help me. But you can't. I'm unfixable."
"Don't say that."
"It's the truth."
"Can I see you again next week?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not exactly."
"See you on Tuesday."