Welcome to another part of my crazy. This fic came to me when I was just having a bad day. It's no secret that one of the biggest things that drives me nuts about fiction is that everything is always so happy and cheerful, everything works out and everyone's dreams come true. That is not real life. So I give this this fic-o-angst.
TW: Alcoholism, Depression.
Just so we are all on the same page this is still a piece of fiction. What may or may not happen to a character during the course of their alcoholism and recovery is purely that. I have done a good amount of research on this and I hope to do the topic justice.
Enjoy
Dreams did not always come true. Grass was not always greener on the other side. There was not always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Life sometimes, downright sucked.
Had you asked Kurt Hummel what his life would have been like at twenty-six seven years ago, he would not have told you that he would have been sitting on the fire escape of his Brooklyn apartment smoking a cigarette, nursing a bottle of whiskey. Once upon a time, Kurt Hummel had big city dreams. His name was supposed to be in lights. He was supposed to be married by thirty. Well, the latter was still a possibility but it was very unlikely. Especially since a month ago he was standing on that very escape throwing all of his ex's belongings over it, screaming profanities as Rachel covered Zachary's ears.
Once upon a time, Kurt and Rachel were going to have it all. They had made it out of Lima after all. The duo were supposed to be taking New York by storm, not sharing a tiny one bedroom apartment working dead end jobs. Rachel was most definitely not supposed to get pregnant at eighteen with her douche bag ex's baby and Kurt was not supposed to get denied at every audition he went to because he didn't "fit" the role.
Yet, there they were; Kurt was a bartender at a seedy gay bar on the out skirts of the city and Rachel a secretary at the local community college. It was times like this -times when Kurt realized his own failures- he wanted to punch whomever gave him hope for the future in the face.
This was his future. Monday night, drinking himself into oblivion as he listened to angry music on his phone was what he had become.
Across the bridge there was a younger man who wasn't fairing much better than Kurt was. This younger man was an orphan trying to make his dreams of stardom come true. He played at free venues for tips, in the subways, and parks. He lived in Chelsea with other musicians. The lot of them were starving artists. They had nowhere to go and no one to turn to.
In the tiny studio apartment, that often didn't have heat or hot water, four strangers lived in quarters too small, too confined. The curly haired man was miserable. Since his parents' death four years ago in a car accident, the young man could not be anything but miserable. That cold, rainy night that he got the phone call was the night that changed his life forever. It was the night the misery set in.
In addition to the obvious pain of losing his parents, the young man was forced to drop out of his studies at NYU because there was no one left to pay his tuition. His grandparents had disowned him because of his sexuality and he had drifted apart from his high school friends years ago. He had received a payment from their life insurance policy; one that he left in the bank as a backup, only dipping into it when he couldn't make rent that month. It may not have seemed like much and his portion of the rent may have only been $500 but working for tips never guaranteed steady income.
On that side of the bridge there sat a man. The man was broken, mind and spirit. The man sat on his stoop with a bottle of Jack clutched in his hands as if it was a mighty sword that he could use to fight the demons that lived inside him. He was fighting a losing battle with himself, trying to convince himself that everything was going to work out, all the while knowing that it wouldn't. He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt for his pack of Marlboros. He pulled out the pack and groaned when he looked in to find it empty. "Fuck!" He yelled to no one in particular. He only had eleven dollars in his bank account at the time, which meant that there was no money for cigarettes, until it was time to hustle again.
Across the bridge was a broken man who was about to give up.
Kurt heard the window open next to him as he flicked the butt of his cigarette down to the ground below, but he didn't register Rachel's presence until she was leaning her head on his shoulder. His phone long since dead, ear buds still in his ear, too drunk to know the difference.
"I want to go home." Kurt stated flatly, so accustomed to this state of intoxication that is words didn't even slur anymore. Rachel wrapped her left arm with his right and pulled tight. "I don't th-think I can do this anymore. I give up."
"Oh, Kurt. All you have to do is say the word. I have been miserable here for years. I think it's kind of obvious that we got the shit end of the stick here." Kurt scoffed and took another swig before offering the bottle to Rachel. "Kurt, I have Zach. We can't both be plastered with a child in the house."
Kurt took a breath that shook him to his very soul. "Rach? Can we go home?" He lit yet another cigarette, honestly, it was one of the worst parts of drinking. Whenever he drank, he smoked like a chimney, one after another. Not to mention the cost. That pack cost him almost fifteen dollars and he was going through one a day,
Rachel smiled fondly despite herself."I know your Dad will be happy to see you."
"I haven't t-talked to him in months Rachel. Why would he want to talk t-to me?"
"Because he's your father and he loves you. You know I talked to him last week." Kurt looked over at her with squinted eyes. Dammit Rachel stop fucking moving so much. "He told me that he's worried about you. He keeps begging us to come home. He wants you home Kurt."
"You're lying." Kurt insisted between drags of his cigarette.
Rachel just shook her head and stood up. "And you're drunk. Come on, throw out the cigarette, let's put away the whiskey, and go to bed. We can make plans in the morning." Kurt said nothing but offered her a nod before attempting to crawl back to the window. He made it as far as the floor underneath the window inside. There was no way, with how fast the room was spinning, that he was going to make it to his bed (the couch). He just closed his eyes as Rachel stepped over him, pulling the bottle out of his hands. Just as he drifted into unconsciousness he felt Rachel cover him with his blanket and kissing his head. Rachel was a good friend. Rachel was probably the only reason he was alive. He faded into oblivion with a sad smile on his face.
Across the bridge the musician was sitting in his corner of the living room on his second hand twin mattress. He let his head hit the wall, realization taking him over. He could not do this anymore. He had to get the hell out of there. The city was swallowing him whole.
"Hey yo what up B?" One of his roommates, Mike, greeted.
"I'm leaving."
"Uh okay man, can you pick me up a pack of Newports when you're out?"
"No, I'm leaving. I'm going back to Ohio."
"Dude, you want to make music. How can you make music in Ohio?" Mike asked, completely perplexed. The idea of making music anywhere other than New York or California was foreign and mind boggling for him.
"Well I do have a guitar, I can write songs in Ohio. There is no magical boundary that causes you to lose all capabilities when you cross the border."
"Dude. What if it did?" Mike replied.
Blaine rolled his eyes at his soon-to-be ex-roommate. "You need to stop smoking so much weed."
"No such thing." Mike responded triumphantly. "When are you leaving?"
"Tonight. I can't be here anymore. I just can't do it."
"Word. See ya man." And with that Blaine was alone again and he began to pack. All things considered it was pretty easy seeing as he was living out of his bags for the last four years. When you have this many people in this small of an apartment there was no room for mundane things such as furniture.
It took an hour to make sure he had everything he wanted; which included, a duffel bag with his clothing, his guitar, his phone, and wallet. As he walked out of the door, without so much as a goodbye to the other roommates, he left his key on the counter. It was time he cut all connections with the place he tried to call home for the past few years.
Kurt's morning was rough. He had the hangover from Hell and he had three hours to pack and get out of the apartment. Kurt lost his spark, his pizazz over the past few years. His wardrobe shrank from the height of fashion, to college boy chic. Kurt lost his ability to even care. He threw his clothes in the large duffel bag he got at an army surplus store along with his personal care products. The Kurt of seven years ago would have cringed at the amount he had. All he owned now for his face was a bar of Dove soap and a moisturizer. His fire had long since burned out.
Rachel packed her and Zachary's clothes, his favorite toys and books into two large bags. She made sure to grab all of their pictures and tucked them into Zachary's backpack. When Kurt was in the bathroom, she made sure to take out the whiskey and hide it in the cabinet. If they were going to start over, they needed to really start over. There were a lot of things that could be said about Rachel Berry; one of them being she honestly didn't know what she was doing half the time, but no one could ever tell her she didn't have Kurt's best interest at heart.
It may have seemed like they didn't pack much, but in all actuality, they had packed the majority of their belongings. They were broke. They didn't have much. All of the nice things they bought when they first moved to Bushwick all those years ago had been sold over the years. There were bills to pay and a baby to raise. They left behind a bed – Zachary shared a bed with Rachel –, a couch, small TV, a toy box with several broken toys, and food. They had the bare necessities. Even though they didn't have much, they had too much to carry, so they were sure to call ahead for a cab.
Kurt came out of the bathroom and they silently said goodbye to the apartment. They left an envelope with a note and keys. They had a month-to-month lease, so they didn't have to worry about breaking it. They left a forwarding address to send a deposit check if they ended up getting anything out of it.
With a nod Kurt picked up as many of the bags as he could and headed out the door followed closely behind by Zachary. Rachel pulled close the door and they walked away from their life, finally admitting defeat.
The subway ride to Penn Station was long and hot. It may be almost September, but in NYC, there was only about six weeks out of the year where the subway system was actually a comfortable temperature; this was not one of them. The train was packed, he had a ton of crap and was tired of being knocked around. This is one thing he is most definitely not going to miss.
Blaine found an open charger in the waiting area for the bus terminal and decided to charge his phone. If he was going to be on this bus for almost twenty four hours he needed some sort of entertainment. The last thing he wanted was to be lost in his thoughts, left alone to process his life. That would not end well.
Out of the corner of his eye Blaine caught what appeared to be a little family not too far from him.
"I can't wait to be out of the fu-freaking city. – Sorry! I'm trying not to swear around him okay! – Who would have thought we would be running back to Ohio?"
"I know Kurt, but life happens, and it didn't happen to be so generous to us. But, I will say that I am not sorry about it. I have Zach now and even if it's just me, him and you for the rest of our lives, I'm okay with that."
"You need a man." He said with a small laugh.
"Yea, well – so do you."
Blaine stopped listening into the conversation. It was odd, but he felt slightly better that there were other people moving back to his hell-hole state because, for whatever reason, they were giving up on New York too.
He watched them; the tiny, subdued brunette, the beautiful, svelte man with the chestnut hair, and the petite little boy – must be Zach – with the same color hair as his mother, bright eyes and smile. If there was one thing he enjoyed doing it was people watching. He could sit for hours and just try to figure out people's stories and their situations. He watched this odd group. He had heard the girl say that the man needs a man, so he must be gay (had he been in a better mind state he would have been excited about that prospect.) She looked like she was still twelve so she must have had the boy young. The man was not the boy's father – so hmmm, what happened to the father? Was he a dead beat? Did he pass away? Was he married? The list could have gone on and on. The one thing that he decidedly focused on was the man. The man was probably the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on, but his eyes were empty. The man was lost in his own mind and he could relate.
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He stepped away from the main waiting area. Leaving his bag onto of his phone while it charged. He would only be gone a minute, it was fine. Kurt leaned against the 'No Smoking' sign as he lit up. Rebel against authority and all that bullshit. He was pleasantly surprised when the svelte man came out to join him.
"Hey, can I get a light?" He asked.
"Sure, here ya go." Blaine replied handing him the rainbow Bic.
Kurt lit his cigarette and passed the lighter back to him with a nod of the head for a thank you. "So, you heading to Ohio too?" He asked, making small talk.
"Yea, it's time for me to get the fuck out of here."
Kurt laughed with a heavy heart. "I know that's right. I'm going home."
"I don't have a home to go to."
There was no 'I'm sorry' and no pity from the other man. "That's unfortunate."
"Eh, it is what it is. Time to say goodbye."
"I'm with ya' there. I'm Kurt."
"Blaine."
"Nice to meet you." Kurt spoke as he held his hand to shake.
"You too." By this point their cigarettes were burned to the butt. Time to go back in.
"See ya around Blaine."
Blaine nodded and flicked away the butt. Time to say goodbye to this place. Who would have thought he would be running away again? The only difference this time was that he didn't care bus pulling into the station was bitter sweet for Kurt and Rachel. They were officially laying to rest all of their dreams and aspirations for the future. They typed the final punctuation on this chapter of their lives. Kurt looked over at Rachel to see a tear fall down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away.
"I'm sorry Rach." Kurt whispered as they lined up to put their bags in the storage area.
"Why are you apologizing?" She was so quiet, so meek, and so timid. She was a shell of her former self and Kurt couldn't help but to blame himself. He had been blaming himself for years.
"Because this is all my fault."
She breathed out an angry laugh. "Your fault? Are you serious? This is not your fault. We all know why, at least I, am how I am right now. I can't take fault for your situation and you can't take fault in mine. We made our beds and now it's time to lie in them."
"Yea." Was all that Kurt replied.
Zachary looked up at the two of them as the driver took their bags. "Guys? Can I give the man my suitcase?" He asked with a smile.
"Of course buddy, do you need help lifting it?" Kurt asked ruffling the boy's hair.
"No! I'm big now. I'm going to second grade!"
Kurt threw up his arms in defense and smiled genuinely at him. There was one thing that made him happy these days. It came in the form of a happy six year old little boy. His innocence intact, still had the dreams that Kurt himself once had. His smile went ear to ear as the little boy excited handed the driver his suitcase. The driver laughed at Zach's excitement and made sure to point out what a strong boy he was. The look of pride and joy on his face was enough to warm his heart even if for a short time.
Fucking finally! Blaine thought as they got to their first rest stop about three hours into their trip. He was desperate for a cigarette and to stretch his legs. He was stuck sitting next to a man who smelled like must and curry. Seriously, how is this his life? He shuffled off of the bus and quickly went off to the side of the building to smoke a cigarette and enjoy fresh air. After living in New York City for years, it's a nice change of scenery.
His cigarette was over far too quickly for his liking and ran inside to grab something to eat and drink. By the time he was done he still had ten minutes to kill before they had to get back on the bus and he didn't not want to spend one more minute than he had to next to that man. So he sat on the bench down from the solemn girl traveling with Kurt. She was sans child, so he must have been with him.
He didn't mean to be nosey, but he couldn't help listening in to her telephone conversation. It's not like there was anything better to do.
"Yeah, I know. Please don't tell him I told you. He will come to you when he's ready."
Hmmm, a gorgeous piece of ass like that of course has a man. Why was he even thinking like that? It's not like he was ever going to go anywhere with that anyway.
"I know he misses you... Yea, it's been a long time since he's called but he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him. He's not in a good place… He- he has a lot of demons Burt and he isn't the same boy you put on that plane seven years ago. We're both just a shell of what we used to be." She paused to listen to the man on the other end of the phone, silent tears running down her face. His heart ached for the girl.
"I promise Burt, he'll be ready soon. Just- just don't expect him to be the boy you knew. He's sick Burt and it scares the hell out of me. Just do me a favor and don't judge him. He's coping the best way he knows how to… Okay. But listen, I have to go. I'll talk to you soon. I love you."
Okay maybe not a boyfriend. Blaine watched in silence as she wiped her tears and put a small smile on her face as her son ran back up to her, arms wide, a cheerful 'mommy!' escaping his lips. He grimaced slightly as he thought about his past self, how he pictured himself in a much different place in his life by this point. He used to want that, a little one – boy or girl, it didn't matter – running to him with a cheerful 'DADDY!' or 'PAPA!' he wasn't picky.
Now… Now he just wanted to survive the night; most nights anyway.
The next morning, on September 1, 2013, the two men were no longer strangers from across the bridge. They were now lost souls on their way to rediscovery in Ohio. Neither had any idea where the other would end up, or if they would even remember each other in the time coming. All either of the men knew was that this was their last chance. It was now or never, their last round in the ring. If they failed again, whatever chance at a future they might have had left would be lost.
As the strangers whom have always been so close but yet so far away stepped on the bus, both with different destinations, different paths they simultaneously sigh. They were stepping onto soil they never thought they would have to again. Their worlds have gone full circle and they are each dealing with it in their own ways.
Blaine picked up his bags and looked over to the friends that he had been taken by just twenty four hours prior. His eyes lingered as the man fiddled with his fingers and the boy looked up at the woman with eyes bright and smile wide. He couldn't help but smile at the little boy who was so optimistic about his life's upcoming journeys. He missed more than anything he could be that little boy again. With one last breath he turned his back and walked his way over to the bus transfer. "Good luck." He muttered under his breath about the man whom, at one point of time, couldn't have easily took it away.
Kurt was not in a good place when they got off the bus in Columbus. He needed a drink and he needed it badly. His anxiety was a devastating mix of extreme highs and extreme lows. He was not ready to do this, he was not ready. He wanted more than anything to go home. Logically, he knew that he needed his father. Emotionally, he was terrified to see him. He just knew that he didn't love him anymore. How could he love someone who was as much of a failure as he was?
Kurt knew that he had no home to go to.
Thank you for checking out my new fic. I have about another chapter and a half completed on this. Seriously Brit made this make sense, please feel free to point out any parts that may not flow well together or make sense. We are both human and we are both very tired. Thank you! Also the title is from the song 'Dream City' by Free Energy