Happy Thursday, my loves.
I'm honestly overwhelmed lately by the response to this story. I can't say anything more eloquent than thank you, and I'm falling short. I'm so glad you are along for the ride.
A huge THANK YOU needs to go to Christine, for her infinite patience and knowledge of all things grammar. Thanks for not judging me for my typos and other nasty mistakes.
Enjoy!
Kurt carefully folded the gown to place it into the box, then wrapped it up and walked out of his office. Burt looked up from the newspaper he had been reading. He seemed bored out of his mind, and Kurt resolved he would use his next paycheck to buy a television.
"All done?" He asked as Kurt put the box on a side table near the door.
"With this one, at least, yeah," he said, coming to sit on the couch for a bit. He had been working non-stop all morning. "They're supposed to pick it up soon. I have to finish another one before the weekend, though, so I need to get back to work. I thought I'd take a little break to make some lunch. Are you hungry?"
"I'm always hungry," Burt grumbled. He was still pretty unhappy with his current dietary restrictions.
"I wonder if the complaints will ever end," Kurt muttered, mostly to himself, as he got back up and headed towards the kitchen. He heard his father shuffling as he followed him. "I'm making fish and salad, today."
"Salad every day," Burt said under his breath, but Kurt still caught it.
"Yes, salad every day." He rolled his eyes and opened the fridge. He grabbed a few veggies and a cutting board from the cupboard and set them on the table. "Here, start chopping."
Burt sat at the table and grabbed a tomato. Kurt handed him a knife and then got busy making two fish fillets on the grill. They worked silently, nothing filling the silence but for the knife hitting the cutting board and the fish sizzling on the grill, until Burt spoke again.
"You know, I've been thinking," he said, and Kurt looked over his shoulder at him from the stove. "We should reinstate Friday night dinners."
Kurt snorted. "Dad, we have dinner together every single night. The point of Friday night dinners was to make time for each other when we had other things to do. But since you've come out of the hospital..."
"No," Burt interrupted, reaching for some lettuce after he was done with the tomatoes. "I know that. We're spending a lot of quality time together now, and that's great. But I mean... we should include Blaine."
Kurt felt his heart skipping a beat, just as every time he heard Blaine's name right when he wasn't expecting it. "Dad... that's so nice of you to think of him. I just... I don't know if he'll be up for it. It hasn't even been a week since Cooper died."
"That's all the more reason to include him, kiddo," Burt said, glancing at him. "I bet he could use the company."
Kurt leaned his hip against the counter, his eyes fixed on the fish, making sure it didn't burn. "You're right. I'll ask him."
He grabbed a couple of plates and glasses from the cupboard and headed towards the table. He put them down and then stopped right next to his dad to drop a kiss on his bald head.
"Thanks, dad."
"What are you thanking me for?" Burt asked, looking a bit surprised.
Kurt sighed and went back to the stove. "Your big heart, I guess."
Every night before he went to sleep, Kurt called Blaine. It wasn't only that he wanted to check on him, make sure he was alright. Something inside of Kurt craved for the sound of Blaine's voice, needed it as much as he needed oxygen. At some point, he had gotten used to seeing Blaine every single day, even if all they had time for was a quick coffee at the hospital's cafeteria. And now... now the absence sat heavily on his shoulders.
It was almost midnight when Kurt dialed his number that night. He wasn't worried about waking Blaine up, because he had already told him he was having trouble falling asleep at night. Most of the time, Blaine just stared up at his ceiling until his alarm went off and he had to get ready for work.
Kurt imagined he had to be absolutely exhausted by now.
"Hey," Blaine's voice came suddenly, but soft. It felt like a caress in Kurt's ear.
"Hey. How are you doing?" He asked, same as every night.
Blaine made a noncomittal sound, a hum, same as every night. "How's everything over there? How's your dad?"
Kurt hated that he avoided the question, but knew he shouldn't press for more. Blaine would open up when he was ready. So instead he told him about his dad's aversion for healthy food, about looking at televisions to buy because it was obvious Burt was bored all day long, about the gown he had finished and the one he was sewing now. He filled every second with conversation, hoping it would distract Blaine at least for the few minutes they talked on the phone.
"Oh, how silly of me," Kurt said, as he paused for breath. "I almost forgot to tell you that you're invited to dinner on Friday."
Blaine cleared his throat. "That's really nice of you, Kurt, but I'm not sure..."
"Hush. I'm not the one inviting you. My dad is. And Friday night dinners used to be sacred in the Hummel household," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice light. "The fact that he wants to include you in our little tradition means he likes you very much."
"Okay," Blaine replied quietly. "I'll come."
He was too polite to refuse, and Kurt almost felt bad. He didn't want to force him if he wasn't in the mood for it, but at the same time, he didn't want Blaine to isolate himself with his pain. It wouldn't be good for him.
"So what are you up to? Did you have dinner?" Kurt felt a knot somewhere in his stomach. With every day, he felt like Blaine was harder to reach. Conversations usually became stilted, long silences stretched between them without a single thing to fill them. It was Kurt who always asked questions, pushed a little, made him talk.
He wasn't sure how much of Blaine's reticence to speak to him had to do with Cooper's passing, and how much had to do with Blaine losing interest in Kurt.
"Not yet," Blaine answered. "I'm still at work."
Kurt frowned and check the time again, to make sure he hadn't been confused before. It was close to midnight. "So late?"
"Felt like catching up with some orders due tomorrow," Blaine explained vaguely.
Blaine went quiet and Kurt could hear him work in the background, the sound of his scissors as he cut stems, of the paper as he wrapped the flowers. He didn't say another word, and Kurt didn't know how to reach him, how to pull him back, how to be with him and soothe his soul.
"Alright, well..." he muttered at last. "I'll let you get back to work, so you can finish and get home to get some rest. Take care, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine said, voice as soft as velvet.
"Goodnight..." Kurt whispered, and heard the call being disconnected. "... sweetheart."
He let his phone fall onto his chest as he closed his eyes and wondered what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to just let Blaine go? Or was he supposed to push him, not let him get closed off?
As he was pondering his options, his phone vibrated and he picked it up to look at it, surprised to see a text from Blaine.
From Blaine: Your calls are the best part of my day. Sweet dreams, Kurt.
Hope bloomed inside of him – Blaine still cared. He was just too heartbroken to show it.
On Thursday Kurt had several errands to run, including buying fabrics for a new design, as well as attending a meeting with a rising Broadway star who needed a gown for her opening night after party. He spent the entire morning running from one side of the city to the other, with barely a moment to catch his breath, so by noon he was eager to get home, make his father some healthy lunch and maybe sit down and be quiet for five minutes before he had to start running again to meet his deadlines.
He stopped on a corner, waiting for the traffic light to change, and realized he was only a few blocks from Flora. After a second's hesitation, he switched his plans around, and made one last stop before heading to his new destination.
Only twenty minutes later, Kurt pushed opened the door to the flowershop, immediately coming face to face with Annie, who was mindlessly staring at her phone behind the counter. She looked up, visibly bored, and quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Hi, how are you? Annie, right?" Kurt asked with his best smile. "I'm Kurt, Blaine's friend. Is he here?"
Annie let her eyes wander up and down Kurt, making him slightly nervous. "It's good to see you back. Boss is in the backroom." She pointed at the door. "You should go right in. He could really use a nice surprise."
"Thank you," Kurt said, and made his way into the backroom.
Blaine was standing in the middle of his personal garden, surrounded by buckets of flowers, his back to the door. He was wearing dark jeans and a red polo, and just the shape of his shoulders in it made Kurt's mouth go dry. He missed him.
Not wanting to startle him, Kurt knocked on the open door to announce his presence.
Blaine looked over his shoulder, his eyes spotting Kurt and going a little wider in surprise. Other than that, his expression didn't change. The devastation and sorrow were still etched on his face like a mask he couldn't get rid of.
"Kurt! What are you doing here?" He asked, putting down the roll of ribbon he was holding and turning to lean against his work table.
Kurt found his smile, just for him, and lifted the paper bag he was holding. "I was in the neighborhood and I thought you might like to have lunch with me?"
Blaine immediately busied himself cleaning up the table for them to eat at and pulling a couple of chairs closer. Kurt watched him, noticing the tension on his back, the dark marks under his eyes. He looked not only sad, but exhausted.
Kurt put the paper bag on the table, carefully lowering his satchel and the other bags with this morning's purchases, and stopped Blaine's hand as it was about to reach for a bucket of flowers.
Blaine's eyes snapped right back to his – the liquid gold in them seemed paler, less bright. It broke Kurt's heart all over again.
Without releasing his hand, Kurt tugged him closer, closer, closer, until their chests were flushed together and Blaine was burying his face on Kurt's shoulder. He held him, rubbing his back soothingly, until their breaths were in sync and Blaine seemed to melt against him, finally relaxing.
Only then did he pull away. "Let's eat, okay?"
Blaine nodded, and they sat at the table.
Kurt had decided to be indulgent – after eating super healthy with his dad for a few days, he felt both he and Blaine deserved something more comforting and a little less leafy. He pulled the cheeseburgers and fries from the bag, as well as the sodas, and then slid his chair a little closer to Blaine's, so he could keep a hand on his knee as he ate.
They were silent at first, but soon Blaine put his burger down, wiped at his mouth with a napkin and turned on his chair so he could better face Kurt.
"I've missed you," he said, and the soft longing in his voice made Kurt ache. "I'm sorry I've been..."
"You don't have to apologize," Kurt interrupted gently. "You know I understand."
"I feel..." Blaine started, and then paused, shaking his head. "I don't know how I feel. It's like I keep searching for something and I can't find it. It's like I want to scream at the top of my lungs but I have no voice, like I'm drowning and I don't know how to swim..."
"That's normal, sweetheart," Kurt leaned in a little closer. "You're grieving. It's normal."
"But I don't want it to be normal," Blaine retorted, and he sounded angry. "I want it to be better. I want to wake up from this nightmare and I want..." he burst into tears.
Kurt immediately got to his feet and pulled him up, embracing him, soaking up his pain as well as he could, hoping to take some of the weight of it himself so it wouldn't choke Blaine. "We're going to get through this together. You're going to come for dinner every time you want to, not just tomorrow night and let us keep you company. You're going to let me hold you whenever you feel like you need to cry, because you don't need to go through this by yourself, and you're going to call me every time you need to talk. And I promise I will be here for you, Blaine, but you have to let me. I can't force my way in, you have to let me. You don't need to sit in the dark and mourn by yourself. You will really drown if you do that."
Blaine took a deep breath, trying to get his sobs in control, and slowly nodded his head. "Okay."
Kurt kissed his temple and swayed him a little, almost as if they were dancing, until Blaine's grip on his shoulders went a little loose. Then they sat down and finished their lunch, their hands linked together under the table.
The next night, Kurt was setting up the table when there was a knock on the door.
"Dad, can you get that?" He called into the living room.
"Sure thing, kiddo," Burt replied.
Kurt moved towards the stove to check on the food, and after placing the plates on the table, he left the kitchen just in time to see his dad pulling Blaine into a quick hug.
"It's good to see you, buddy," he said, giving Blaine gentle pats on the back. "How have you been?"
"Okay, Mr. Hummel. Thank you. How are you?" Blaine asked, always polite, always attentive, despite his own heartache.
"I'm good," Burt replied, and immediately changed the subject, because if there was one thing Burt Hummel hated, it was talking about his health and having people fuss over him. He looked down at the bouquet tightly grasped in Blaine's hand. "Those aren't for me, right?"
Kurt had the pleasure of seeing Blaine duck his head, blushing furiously, as he said: "No, sir. I'm afraid they're not." He looked up just in time to see Kurt walking in. "Hey Kurt."
"Hi, Blaine. I'm so glad you made it," Kurt said, as he stopped before him and, after a second's hesitation, leaned in to kiss his cheek.
"Here, these are for you," Blaine said, lifting the bouquet of daisies, and earning a big grin from Kurt. He glanced quickly at Burt. "I should have brought something for you, too, Mr. Hummel."
"Don't be silly, kid," Burt replied, giving him another pat on the back. "Just having you here is treat enough."
"Exactly," Kurt agreed, and grabbed Blaine's hand to pull him into the kitchen. "Come on, dinner's almost ready."
Kurt had made a simple meal – chicken breasts, mashed potatos and salad – and they sat around the table, passing bowls and plates to each other, while Kurt and Blaine made sure Burt didn't reach for the salt while they were distracted chatting. They talked about their weeks, but their conversation had a Cooper-shaped hole that they all carefully avoided addressing. It was okay, though. Soon they would be able to talk about him, without it hurting as much as it did now. Soon Blaine would be able to smile again.
After dinner, Burt retired to the living room and Blaine insisted on helping Kurt with the dishes. He stood in front of the sink and Kurt grabbed a towel to dry. They were so close their hips bumped against each other every time they moved.
"Thank you for the flowers," Kurt said. "You always give me the most beautiful flowers."
"I'll always give you flowers," Blaine whispered, his eyes on the plate he was scrubbing.
Kurt tilted his head to watch him, his heart stuttering against his ribcage. "Is that a promise?"
"Of course it is," Blaine replied.
Kurt dropped a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, because he couldn't stop himself.
When they were done, they rejoined Burt out in the living room, and Kurt took a cheesecake out of the fridge and allowed his dad to have a thin slice. They sat, and they chatted some more, and set the pattern for the next few Friday nights, when Blaine would come for dinner, sometimes with a bottle of wine, others with dessert, but always with a bouquet of flowers for Kurt.
They didn't kiss again, not more than a press of lips to a cheek. Kurt missed him, even when he had him by his side, but he didn't pressure him. Blaine still looked sad and exhausted, and so incredibly lost. And Kurt loved him – he loved him with a fierce passion, and would give him all the time and space he needed to heal. And if that meant all he got out of Blaine was a friendship, then Kurt didn't care, because having Blaine Anderson in his life was a gift, one he would never reject or take for granted.
It felt painfully strange to be back at the hospital. Kurt held onto his dad's arm as they made their way towards Dr. Stemberg's office, and tried hard not to think about the last time he had been here, about his despair when he realized Blaine and Cooper were gone. He tried not to picture Cooper's tired smile and Blaine's eyes full of unconditional love for his big brother. He took a deep breath and tried to block all of it from his mind, at least for a while. He needed to focus on his dad now.
"You okay, kiddo?" Burt asked. He could read his son more easily than an open book.
"Yes, I'm fine," Kurt assured him. It had been weeks – almost a whole month, wow – but it still hurt like the moment he had walked into Cooper's empty room.
Dr. Stemberg was still busy with another patient so they sat in the waiting room. Burt was fidgety next to him, clearly anxious, and Kurt placed a hand on his forearm.
"Hey, it's going to be okay," Kurt murmured, giving him a little smile. "Stop stressing yourself out."
"I just want him to tell me I can finally go home," Burt grumbled, taking his baseball cap off to rub the back of his head.
Kurt arched an eyebrow. "I'm glad you've enjoyed living with me," he said sarcastically.
Burt groaned. "You know that's not what I mean. I like spending time with you, kiddo. I'm just not made to live in this city. It's... loud. How can you sleep at night? There's never a second of silence. I wake up in the middle of the night a million times. I miss Ohio."
"I know, dad. You're not a Manhattan man. And that's fine." Kurt sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. "But I do feel better having you here."
The door in front of them opened and Dr. Stemberg stepped out, shaking a man's hand, who then walked away down the hallway. His eyes found Kurt and Burt sitting there, waiting.
"Mr. Hummel! You're looking good, come on in," he said, keeping the door to his office open for them.
They talked for a while, about how Burt had been feeling, and then dr. Stemberg checked his last tests. He seemed very pleased with what he found.
"We were hoping he could continue any further treatments in Ohio," Kurt said, placing his hand on his father's shoulder. "He's really eager to get back home."
"I don't see why he can't go back home now," Dr. Stemberg said, instantly earning a grin from Burt. "As long as you take care of yourself, Mr. Hummel, you should be able to live a normal life. Just follow your diet, do your exercises and try not to stress too much. That should be enough. And you don't need to be in Manhattan for that."
Burt looked like a kid who had been told he was going to Disney World for his birthday as they left the hospital. Kurt had honestly never seen anyone as excited as him to go anywhere, let alone Ohio, of all places.
But he was happy to leave the hospital. He hoped he would never have to return, ever again.
Since Kurt was driving Burt back to Ohio in his truck, something his dad kept protesting about reminding him that he could drive himself, thank you very much, he had to arrange a few things before they left, mostly work-related.
But there was one more thing stopping him from leaving New York so quickly, and that was Blaine.
The day seemed to sneak up on them – it couldn't have been a month since Cooper had died. It seemed surreal. Kurt felt like he had been laughing with him and bringing him muffins only a week ago or two. But if the date was heavy on his shoulders, he couldn't imagine what it was like on Blaine's.
Kurt did his best to reach out to Blaine. He started with a text asking him how he was doing, which went unanswered. Then he tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Finally, he stopped by the flowershop, only to find Annie there alone, a worried look on her face that matched Kurt's, who told him Blaine had called in sick and left her in charge of the store for the day. The next obvious step was to go to Blaine's apartment, but Kurt wasn't sure if he should. It was obvious Blaine didn't want to be around people today, but Kurt kept picturing him drowning in his own misery and it made his heart hurt so much, he finally decided to risk it. He would rather have Blaine angry at him for intruding than leaving him alone on such a big, heart-rending day.
When Blaine opened the door, Kurt sighed in relief, despite the fact that he looked awful. He was wearing baggy sweatpants and a faded t-shirt and his hair wasn't neatly styled like it usually was, but his curls were free and a bit wild. He seemed exhausted – the dark marks under his eyes gave him away – and definitely sad, but that was the way he had looked for a month now. Kurt was getting used to it, and he hated it.
"Kurt..." Blaine said, sounding a bit surprised, when he saw him standing there.
Kurt tried to smile at him. "Hi. I'm sorry for just dropping by. I've texted and called a few times, and since you didn't answer..."
"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked him, frowning.
Kurt bit his lip. "Yes, everything's fine. I was just worried about you. I know today must be hard."
Blaine swallowed and nodded, letting his gaze fall to the floor between them. "I'll be alright. I just... needed time for myself, I guess."
"Okay, that's fine," Kurt reassured him quickly. "I didn't want to overstep your boundaries."
"You didn't," Blaine replied. "Thanks for checking up on me."
He didn't invite him in, and he didn't sound like he was eager to keep chatting. Kurt knew when he was being dismissed. He bit back his own disappointment. This was not about him.
"Well, since I'm here, I should let you know I'll be going to Ohio soon. I'm driving dad back and staying there with him for a couple of weeks while he settles down. I want to make sure he has everything he needs, since I won't be around to help him anymore," Kurt explained, feeling increasingly awkward.
"Okay," Blaine said as sole response.
Kurt ached. He wanted to reach out and pull him into his arms. He wanted to hold him and heal him and make every single bad feeling disappear. He wanted to touch him, even just the tips of his fingers to the back Blaine's hand. He wanted him, all of him, the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the easy and the difficult.
But he couldn't have him. He couldn't have any of it. He had told himself he could deal with at least having him as a friend, but it didn't look like friendship was even on the table. Kurt felt like he was being pushed away insistently, and every time he tried to take a step forward, Blaine blocked him.
He was losing him. The grief was swallowing him whole, and Kurt had no idea what to do.
He didn't want to give up, but maybe that was what Blaine wanted. What if it was what Blaine needed, as well?
They had met because of Cooper. They had gone on a date because of Cooper. Maybe the reminder was too much for Blaine to bear.
Feeling as if he was choking, Kurt said: "Take care, okay?" And then promptly turned around and stalked away, before Blaine could say anything at all. He heard the door closing behind him, and it felt as if Blaine was closing the door on them and whatever future they could have found together.
Kurt left, but the pieces of his broken heart remained on Blaine's doorstep.
Only one left.
Can't believe we're nearly there.
I'll see you on Saturday for the last one!
Love,
L.-