Sorry it's been so long! Anyways, here's chapter 2. By the way, I apologize if this story gets triggering at times. Please don't read this if it triggers you. I don't want you to get hurt.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Kurt walked through the halls of McKinley High, unnoticed. Even the jocks, who always went out of their way to taunt him and toss him into a set of lockers, didn't see him. Jacob Ben Israel walked right by him and seemed to look directly at him- no. Directly through him. No one could see him at all.
Of course they wouldn't.
Am I a ghost? Kurt questioned. Am I dead?
I hope so.
He continued walking, looking at the faces of his fellow classmates. None of them seemed to be affected by the news of Kurt's death, Kurt noticed. Of course they wouldn't. They never cared about him when he was alive. Why should they care about him when he was dead?
He reached the choir room and braced himself before walking in. Immediately he was faced with his former glee club members, all stoic and silent. Finn's eyes were a little red, but he seemed fine. Rachel, ever the drama queen, sniffed and wiped her eyes. Mercedes seemed to be distraught, but otherwise fine. Sam, Puck, Tina, Mike, Artie, Brittany, Santana, and Quinn all seemed unaffected by the current news going around. But then he noticed something unusual. Blaine, who went to Dalton, was there, eyes rimmed red with tears in them and hair messy and out of its usual gelled style. He looked absolutely wrecked. He had obviously been crying, and still was. He was mostly silent, except for a few sobs that came up every few minutes. Kurt was shocked, to say the least.
But that wasn't the strangest part. Blaine wasn't actually silent. He was quietly mumbling something over and over again under his breath, rocking back and forth slightly. No one seemed to notice him doing this, or that he was even there. Kurt walked forward slightly, intent on hearing what Blaine was saying.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Blaine repeated these words like a mantra. Kurt cocked his head to the side, confused.
"B-Blaine? What are you doing here? Why are you sorry?" Kurt asked, hesitant.
Blaine's gaze snapped up to where Kurt was, but he didn't really seem to be seeing him. "Kurt? Kurt, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have been there earlier I'm sorry." Blaine let out a dry sob and put his head in his hands.
Suddenly, they were no longer in the choir room. They were in a hospital, and Kurt's father was there.
"Blaine? Calm down, bud. This isn't your fault. If anything, it's m-mine," Burt said, sniffing at the end. Kurt turned and looked at the bed in the hospital. He gasped. He saw himself, himself, lying in the bed.
Is- Is that me? Kurt wondered. He looked so pale and skinny in the large bed. He looked like death had warmed over.
Blaine sobbed again, yet quieter and less forceful this time. "I should have been there, Mr. Hummel. I should have gotten there earlier. I could have saved him."
"Son, don't talk like that. He's alive. He'll be fine, and this was not your fault."
"It was his. He did this to himself," Kurt's brain supplied the insinuated words, the words he knew his father truly believed. The words that his whole family and friends probably believed, trying to lift some of the guilt off of their shoulders.
Blaine suddenly got up and began pacing, near hyperventilation. He paced and gripped his hair in his hands, tears streaking down his face and a slightly crazed look on his face.
"Blaine, son, you've got to calm down. He'll be ok. Trust me." Kurt's father put his hands on Blaine's shoulders and gently steered him back to the chair besides Kurt's bed. Blaine sank down, tired and worn out, before he looked over at Kurt in the bed. His eyes quickly filled with tears again, and he hesitantly reached for Kurt's hand. As soon as their hands touched, Blaine relaxed and leant forward, his head resting on their entwined hands.
Burt cleared his throat and said, "I'm going to head home for the night to tell Carole and Finn what happened. You can stay here with him if you'd like. I'll be back in the morning." Blaine nodded his head in acknowledgement and sniffed loudly. Burt patted Blaine on his shoulder before kissing Kurt's forehead and leaving the room with one final look at his son.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Blaine's shoulders began shaking violently with repressed sobs. Each sob that left his lips stabbed Kurt's heart a million times, leaving him feeling empty and hurt.
Kurt was starting to slip away before Blaine spoke again. "Kurt? If you can hear me, I'm so sorry. I should have seen the signs. I should have gotten there earlier. I am so sorry Kurt. I'm a terrible friend. You don't deserve me."
No! I don't deserve you! Please don't think that way, Blaine. I'm sorry too.
But Kurt's thoughts weren't heard. They were only there, in his head, screaming and pleading to be let out.
"I just wish… I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me. You're not just a friend to me Kurt. You're so much more. I just need you to wake up so I can tell you. I need you to live for me. Please. I love you, Kurt. Please wake up."
Please wake up.
Please wake up.
Please wake up.
Please wake up.
Darkness. Pain. Sorrow. More pain. That was all Kurt could feel.
Wait, feel? Wasn't he supposed to lose himself when he died? Was he even dead?
I'm not dead, am I? Oh god, I can't even kill myself right!
Kurt groaned and tried to roll onto his side, wanting to curl up in a ball and just cry, but he couldn't move. He couldn't believe he even failed at this.
"-urt? Kurt? Are you awake?" A voice broke through the heavy fog that seemed to settle on Kurt's mind, but he couldn't quite place the voice. "Kurt?" the voice questioned again.
Kurt tried to respond, give another grunt, grip the fingers he suddenly felt holding his, but his mind was moving faster than his body. He couldn't move. He faintly heard the person next to him, the person holding his hand, sigh and settle back into the chair next to the hospital bed.
Next, he heard the steady beeping of a monitor.
So I'm not dead. I'm alive.
For some reason, this both terrified and relieved Kurt. For one, he was alive and clearly someone cared enough to stay with him, even though he was sure they would leave as soon as possible. However, he was unbelievably scared of what being alive still could bring. His dad was surely going to be angry at him, as would Carole. Finn would be confused and try to help, but ultimately he would try to avoid Kurt.
And Blaine. Blaine was the one who found Kurt. Surely he would be repulsed or even furious at Kurt for doing that to him.
I'm a terrible person. I should have told Blaine not to come.
But then what? Have his father find him instead? That would have been probably worse. Still, Kurt wished Blaine was never involved in this.
"Is he still asleep?" Kurt heard a new voice, a lower, gruffer voice, ask.
"Yeah. I thought I heard him groan earlier but I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part," the more familiar voice said. Kurt then heard another sigh, this time from the second voice.
Dad. Dad and Blaine are here.
He wanted to cry. Kurt didn't want his father or Blaine to see him like this, so weak and pathetic. At least at home he could pretend. At least at school he could slip into the background and not have anyone notice. But now the bright lights of the hospital room seemed to be trained on him like a spotlight and Kurt didn't want anything more than to just disappear, or better yet, die.
I should have died. I shouldn't be here.
He wanted to scream in frustration. It wasn't fair! Why did every single last thing he tried to do never work out? Why did he always fail at everything?
You should be dead. You don't deserve to live. Just think of the hospital bills your dad will have to pay off now. This shouldn't have happened. This is all your fault.
Stop! The voice in Kurt's head, the pessimist, depressing, accusatory one, was giving him a headache and a stomach ache.
"Kurt? Are you alright bud?" Bud. Bud. Dad.
Dad! I'm okay, I'm sorry! I am so sorry, dad. I didn't want you to have to deal with me anymore. I'm sorry.
Kurt wanted to say these things so bad, but his tongue rested in his mouth like a dry piece of led. He wanted to move, to get up, to wake up, but his body wouldn't let him.
"I don't think he can hear you, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, sounding dead tired. "I've been trying all night."
Kurt felt a stab of guilt and regret at his words. He suddenly recalled bits and pieces of a dream he might have had before he 'woke up'. He couldn't remember the full thing, but he did distinctly remember Blaine's sobs and his father's broken voice, trying to reassure the distraught boy. There was more to it, Kurt was sure. There was definitely something important Blaine said, but Kurt couldn't recall. After thinking about it for a minute, trying to make himself remember and giving himself a headache in the process, Kurt gave up.
Burt sighed, defeated. "I know, I know. I just can't help but hope, you know? All I want to know right now is why? Why did my son think he was not needed here? What was the breaking point? Why didn't I notice god-dammit!" Burt's voice steadily rose until the last statement was shouted. Blaine flinched, obviously wondering the same things.
"I-I don't know, Mr. Hummel. I don't know." Blaine's voice, usually so lively and happy and full, was dull and sounded like a broken man, a man who has been through too much in such a little time, a man whose life has been changed too quickly, a defeated man's voice. Kurt's heart ached at the sound. He wanted Blaine to be okay more than anything.
After all, that's what you want when you're in love with the person.
And with that thought, Kurt woke up.