Blaine stood there. It was raining outside, lightning and thunder clashing every so often. He had forgotten his jacket back at the hotel, along with his license and shoes. His body was shaking violently and his bottom lip trembled just slightly. His dark, curly hair was drenched and matted down onto his head, a few strands hanging in his eyes. He had no idea where his car had gotten to, but he didn't really care. He was just thinking about things. Mainly about Shane and Reed and Kurt.
He hugged himself and looked into the distance. It was dark. The rain was really starting to pour down, every pelt feeling like fire. He knew he was going to get sick, but he just didn't care. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt his eyes begin to burn. He sniffed and wiped at them, hissing when the feeling just got worse. Even if he had no idea how he got here or why he had no sense to bring a jacket or shoes, he knew why he was here. He remembered this place very well. And that made him cry even more.
He was standing in front of Kurt's old house. Well, where it use to stand at least. Now, all that stood was a mail box titled 'Hummel'. There were so many memories and it just hurt so bad. He could see Kurt's face, laughing and smiling. He could hear his voice even, over all the rain. He'd tell him how much he loved Blaine and how happy he was to be with him. They'd sing together, while Blaine played the piano that Dalton gave Kurt for his birthday. And they would be so happy. Not a care in the world. He missed that so much. He missed Kurt so much.
"Hey!"
He looked around, startled. It was almost 2 a.m. Who was out this late, besides him?
Then he saw a coated figure running toward him. It was a girl.
"Blaine!"
It was Mercedes.
"What are you doing out here?" she yelled, looking up at him.
He looked down, then back at the mail box.
"Mercy…" his face scrunched up and his lips trembled. "I can't do this anymore."
She took his hand, her face softening.
"I can't live without him! I can't..I just.." he didn't want to cry in front of her.
Mercedes pulled him towards her car.
"Blaine, I know this is hard," she yelled over the storm. "I know how hard this is."
He shook his head. Of course she did. Kurt was her best friend.
"But you need to move on. It's been 2 years, Blaine!" her voice cracked. She was crying too.
She opened her car door and got in, slamming the door. Blaine did the same.
It was quiet now, with an exception of rain drops falling onto the windows. He muttered and apology when he realized he was soaking her seats.
"Are you okay?" she questioned him.
He looked over at her. He just couldn't do it.
"No." he heaved out a sob.
She was crying freely now, as she took his hands, turning in the driver's seat.
"I want him back!" he cried, tears stinging down his cheeks.
She leaned and hugged him.
"Blaine, it's alright. Just cry, baby." she whispered.
For the next few minutes, he let out all his stress and pain and just bawled his eyes out.
She rubbed his back through it and whispered comforting words. He thanked god he had Mercedes. He would have killed himself a long time ago if she hadn't existed. She was always there.
When he finally stopped crying, it was silent. It had stopped raining and the thunderstorm was over. And they just sat there, Mercedes head on his shoulder. It stayed that way a long time, until Blaine sat up.
"Mercy, do you remember the day his house caught on-" he swallowed. "The day he left us?"
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
"Earlier in that day, he told me he wanted to get married." he said.
Her eyes lit up as she looked at the boy.
"Really?" she asked in awe.
He nodded and sighed.
"I miss him so bad." Blaine whispered.
"We all do." she touched his shoulder.
Blaine sniffed and wiped his eyes.
"I think I may have a cold."
She looked at him, her mouth gaping.
"Well, how about next time you actually get dressed?"
He rolled his eyes and laid his head on the window, looking outside.
Then it occurred to him.
"I have no idea where my car is."
He could hear the strained patience in her voice.
"We'll find it in the morning."
They strapped their seat belts and Mercedes started up the car.
"I don't think I have any more tears left." he muttered.
She glanced at him as she turned the curve.
"There will always be tears."