Title: The Two Accidents
Summary: Just like any other couple, they hard their troubled. There was lying, arguments, cheating, loud fights, but somehow they always pulled through. But all that changed after that one phone call at 9am two weeks after graduation.
Genre: Angst/Tragedy
Character(s): Blaine, Kurt, Sam, Burt
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Disclaimer: I do not own the story or characters.
***WARNING: TRIGGER ALERT- SUICIDE AND MENTION OF DEPRESSION***
You know that feeling? When you feel like you are going to collapse any second. The one when you are awake in the middle of the night, curled up under your blankets, wanting everything to go away. Where you feel tired. Tired of everything. Tired of nothing going right. Tired of living.
That feeling of desperation, of wanting someone to be there, But not letting anyone come close, because every time someone gets close, you get hurt.
That feeling you get when your heart is broken, and only one person can fix it, that person who broke it. But that person left your life so quickly that you sometimes forget that they're gone. And then you remember. All the memories come rushing back and you collapse, sobbing so hard you can't breathe. Wanting to scream so badly that you feel like you're going to burst.
Depression captures a broken heart and locks away the pieces so it can't be fixed by anyone but the person who broke it.
The depression builds up and eventually turns to suicidal thoughts. The depressed become suicidal.
This is the story of two boys named Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.
They met at Dalton Academy, an all-boy school. They fell in love. They went on dates, they sang duets together, they loved each other.
And of course, just like any other couple, they hard their troubled. There was lying, arguments, cheating, loud fights, but somehow they always pulled through.
But all that changed after that one phone call at 9am two weeks after graduation.
"Hello?"
"Turn on the news." Sam's choked voice greeted him urgently.
"Okay . . ." He obeyed, switching the tv channel to the news.
"-seven-car pile-up on the corner of 22nd and 31st. Eight people injured, three are in critical condition. One person died on impact. A man in his late teens or early twenties. Victim is currently unidentified." A picture of the victim was on the right side of the tv screen. And he was horrifying familiar.
He grabbed the remote and turned the tv off, turning his attention back to his cell phone. "Tell me it's a joke, Sam. DAMMIT! TELL ME HE ISN'T D-DEAD!"
"I-I'm s-sorry-"
And with that, he threw his phone across the room, before crumpling on the ground and starting to cry.
The funeral was horrible. Everyone was telling him that they were sorry. That an 18-year-old didn't deserve to die.
He wanted them to stop, he hated hearing apologies. They couldn't bring him back, no matter how hard anybody tried.
He lost track of how many hours he spent at the grave for the next two weeks. Every day, he would go there at 10 in the morning, just talking, or crying. Sometimes he would just lay there, looking blankly up at the clouds slowly moving across the sky.
One day, after those two weeks, he was going through his boyfriend's things that were given to him by his family. God, everything smells like him. And then he came across a small velvet box. He opened it and found a ring. Engraved on the inside of it was You are my teenage dream. He slipped it onto his left ring finger and it fit perfectly.
And that's when he broke down. He had been sobbing for two hours before his dad came home from work and found him in his room. He saw the ring and immediately knew what had happened.
After that, he completely shut down. He didn't leave the house, and the only time he ever left his room was to walk across the hall the the bathroom. His friends came by sometimes, but he never responded to anything anyone said. All he did was lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling.
It took him four weeks to snap out of it and actually leave his room. Another full week before he left the house. It was almost a month after that that he was able to visit the grave.
Almost every night he would wake up. screaming and crying from his nightmares. And then one day he just stopped. He didn't cry anymore. He didn't scream, he didn't shout. He never smiled, or laughed, and he stopped talking entirely.
He was just empty.
Five months had passed since that phone call, and one sunny, quiet morning, found him at the train station. It wasn't very busy. Only a few people were waiting for the 8:45 train to arrive.
But he was waiting for a different reason.
At last he heard the train coming closer. He smiled and walked over to the edge of the platform. He saw the train coming. Closer, closer. Just a little closer. At last it was close enough.
Kurt smiled and stepped onto the train tracks.
I know, I know. I'm evil :D. Don't blame me. I thought this up at like 2 am.
K, so Blaine died in the car accident, and Kurt was so upset he committed suicide.