Kurt stares at Cooper, his hungover brain trying to catch up, and then he springs to life. "Uh...come in, come in. I'll just..." He scrambles around, picking up the clothes from the floor. "We were... We went out last night," he says, his face on fire. He holds the clothes tight to his chest. "Two minutes," he adds, seizing Blaine's briefs from the hall table, then he charges down to the bedroom, throwing the clothes on the floor and grabbing a robe from the bathroom.
"Is Blaine home?" Cooper repeats when he returns. His manner is cool, unfriendly, and he clearly disapproves of Kurt's disheveled state.
"I have no idea. Probably. In the gym, knowing him. Is his dad...?"
"He leaves you here alone?"
"I live here," Kurt says, doing a double take at his apparent rudeness.
Cooper smirks. "I see."
For a moment, Kurt is almost apologetic, but then he stops himself. If being with Blaine has taught him anything, it's never to care what other people's opinions are. They're happy, so why should his moving in be of any consequence to his brother? "I'm not after his money," Kurt says, fixing him with a glare. "Whatever you might think. But anyway, come into the living room, while I try and find him."
He shows Cooper down the hallway, purposely deciding to be over polite and accommodating, just to annoy him. He offers him coffee, he even offers him breakfast and of course, Cooper declines it all.
"Morning, beautiful."
Blaine suddenly arrives, sweaty from the gym and in just a pair of gym shorts. He doesn't see his brother at first, and he strides confidently into the living room, smacking Kurt's ass as he passes, then he pulls up short.
"Oh. He died, then?"
"No," Cooper says, getting to his feet. "Not yet. But it's imminent. I wondered if you wanted to see him?"
"Has he asked for me?"
"No. He can't talk."
"Has mom asked for me?"
Cooper looks down at his feet. "No."
"Then no thanks," Blaine says brightly. "I'm good."
"Blaine!" Kurt calls after him, but he disappears through the dining room and into the kitchen.
"It'll always be on your conscience, Blaine," Cooper says loudly. "If you don't make amends before he dies."
"Excuse me?" Blaine returns, his face thunderous. "If I don't make amends? Me? Let's rewind a little here, Cooper. Mom and dad cut me out when I was nineteen. They made it abundantly clear that I would not be welcome in your family if I chose to be gay. They made no effort to ever understand that I didn't choose this anymore than you chose to be straight. Do you remember when I showed up at thanksgiving that year? Because I sure as hell do. I remember dad telling me to my face that I wasn't wanted, and I remember the way you all watched as Denise, the same housekeeper who had practically raised me, was forced to escort me out of the house. I remember the tears in her eyes, and I remember going back to my dorms and being the only one there. I remember bumping into Tracy, from high school, and she asked me whether my adorable niece had made me want kids of my own. I didn't even know Tammy was pregnant, and Lucy was already six months old. How about when you and dad ignored me at that Giants game, when we were in the same fucking box. Remember that one, Cooper? Or when my appendix burst, and the hospital called dad as my next of kin. You might not even know about that, because no one visited me at all. Not one single person. I nearly died, and no one cared, so don't fucking preach at me about needing to make amends because I really don't think I do, do you?"
"I remember that we were close, as a family, but especially as brothers," Cooper says, and for the first time, Kurt hears a hint of sadness in his voice.
"I thought we were, but we couldn't have been, because if your brother finds it within himself to reveal the biggest burden he's been carrying around with him for years, you don't tell him he's abhorrent. You don't accuse him of spying on you. You don't call him a sick pervert. I'm sorry, that dad is dying, Cooper, but I'm not going to visit him just so you can feel better about the whole thing by saying you tried to reconcile us. The way they, and you, treated Kurt at that dinner was way out of line and I don't want anyone in my life who doesn't accept me, and the man I love, for who and what we are."
"Blaine," Kurt says, laying a caring hand on his arm. "I know you're angry and I get that, but please try. I lost my brother and..."
"Oh quit with that!" Blaine shouts, tearing at his hair. "Yes, your brother died, but you know what? He loved you. He fought for you, he cared for you and you knew he always had your back. Your family all love each other. You talk with your dad most days, you embrace him, you kiss him, hell, you even watch TV with your head resting on his shoulder. I had all that, too!" He cries, blinking back tears. "I had all of that, and they chose to end it all. Now if you don't mind, I'd rather forget I ever had a family because memories like that are like ripping open a bleeding wound, and it's never going to heal. So fuck off, both of you. You can't order me to see him, you can't guilt trip me into it, so leave it."
He storms off back into the kitchen, where Kurt hears kitchen cupboards being slammed open and shut as he searches around. He's just about to say something when the sound of glass shattering comes loud and clear, followed by a string of curse words.
"Wow."
"He has a temper," Kurt explains to Cooper. "He takes it out on glasses and plates."
"At least it's not on you."
"It never would be."
"He was always so chilled out. He never even used to raise his voice. I wonder what changed?"
"Really?" Kurt snaps. "Did you listen to anything he said? Don't you realize how deeply you and your parents have damaged him? Blaine is the sweetest, kindest man I know, but you have to strip away layers of hurt and pain to even get a glimpse of that. That's your doing, that's your father's legacy. When I was growing up, I wished we were rich; my dad barely made enough money to feed us and clothe us. But you know what? I know which one of us had the better upbringing, because when I told my dad that I was gay, he kissed me, held me tight and told me he'd known since I was three. I asked him if he was ashamed of me and he wondered why I'd ask such a thing. I never worried. I never felt scared, even in school when I was bullied every damn day. I knew I had a family that loved me. I pity Blaine for never having that, but I pity you, and your parents more, because you've missed out on knowing what a truly wonderful man he is."
Cooper is silent for a moment, before giving a crisp nod, and lifting his head, he looks Kurt right in the eye. "I think I'd better go."
Kurt doesn't answer. He doesn't even see him out of the apartment, just waits until he hears the door close and then he goes in search of Blaine, whom he finds sitting on the floor in front of the refrigerator, surrounded by glass.
"You want to stay with me, and this has to stop," Kurt says, bending to pick up the pieces. "I know you're hurting, but smashing stuff up isn't the answer. Buy a punching bag, for goodness sake. You've got enough money."
Blaine says nothing, just stares into the distance while Kurt patiently clears everything away. When he's done, he fills two glasses with water, which he presumes was what Blaine had been trying to do, and hands one to him before he sits up on the island.
"Where does your family live?" he asks, looking down on him.
"Westchester," he says bitterly. "They all fucking live in Westchester. Don't ever ask me to move out there."
"I won't. Come on then."
"What? No," Blaine says firmly. "Absolutely not. I said all I needed to say."
"And I know you, Blaine. You'll put on a front, saying you're not bothered, and then, when you find out he's gone, you'll regret not seeing him for the rest of your days. You won't say anything, of course," he says, hopping down off the island and hauling him to his feet. "Because you're far too stubborn and proud, but it'll manifest itself in more rudeness and anger, and you'll keep lashing out. If you want to take that route then fine, but don't expect me to stick around for it. Now go take a shower, and I'll make us some breakfast."
"I hate you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine yells as he storms down the hallway. "I really hate you! You think you know me, but you're way off the mark!"
"Yeah, tell it to someone who cares," Kurt says to himself with a smile.
Forty minutes later, Kurt and Blaine, who is scowling and refusing to speak, leave the apartment. There is a sleek silver Aston Martin parked out front, and Blaine gets in it, immediately firing up the engine driving off the second Kurt closes his door.
"This is yours?"
"Why do you ask that? I'm not going to just get in another person's car, am I? One I just happen to have the keys to."
"Okay, grumpy pants. I just didn't know you owned this, that's all."
"Well, I do."
It's an hour's ride out to Westchester; the traffic is awful and the car isn't suited to trailing along at such a slow pace. When they finally make it out of the city and onto a slightly clearer stretch of road, Blaine drives like a maniac, weaving in and out of the other cars at top speed.
"So help me Blaine Devon Anderson, I will get out of this car while you're driving if you carry on like this!"
At this, Blaine slows, looking over at Kurt with a frown. "How the hell do you know my middle name?"
"It was on a letter on your desk."
"You shouldn't be reading my stuff."
"I was bent over, with you behind me. My face was inches away from it for a long period of time! It's hard not to see."
"What's yours?"
"I'll tell you if you drop below seventy."
Blaine obliges, but Kurt purposely waits as long as he can, until he starts gunning the engine again. "Elizabeth."
Blaine swerves. He doesn't mean to, but he can't take his eyes from Kurt's deadly serious face, and he nearly totals the car completely. "What?"
"Elizabeth."
"You have a girl's name?"
"No. It's my name, so it's a man's name."
"I know that. But Elizabeth is undeniably a female name, Kurt."
"It was my mom's name. Dad wanted to honor her in some way."
"Wow."
They pass the rest of the drive in silence, but Blaine keeps looking over to Kurt every now and then, and shaking his head in wonder. Eventually he pulls up at some large gates, but no house is visible. He gives his name only as Mr Anderson; assuming correctly that the man on the other end of the intercom will assume he's Cooper.
The driveway is so long and winding that Kurt doesn't see the house for a good few minutes but when he does, he grips his seat tightly, and stares, open mouthed, at the biggest mansion he has ever seen. "You grew up here? It's a castle."
"It's a prison," Blaine corrects. "Now let me make this clear. I've come here for you, because you think it's the right thing to do. That's all. So when I want to leave, we leave, okay? And don't wander around. You'll get lost."
"How big is it?"
"Nine bedrooms, twelve baths. Gym, sauna, pool, tennis court, basketball court, cinema...and my parents. The joy."
When the door is opened, the butler's eyes widen in total surprise, but he shows them into a fancy sitting room anyway, and coldly asks their names. "You know exactly who I am," Blaine snaps. "Now go and tell them I'm here."
They are summoned quickly, and lead down a series of long hallways until they're at the back corner of the house, where two nurses sit at a desk in front of a set of double doors. "Trust him to have his own fucking hospital set up," Blaine mutters angrily. "We're here to see my father."
"Go on through, your mother is expecting you."
"I'll wait here, Blaine."
Blaine turns to Kurt in surprise. "You're not coming in?"
"I don't really think I should."
"Please come," he whispers. Kurt's heart twists when he sees the pain in his eyes. "Please? I need you."
"Sure." Swallowing down any fears or misgivings, Kurt takes his hand and they enter the large room together. It is indeed set up like a hospital, with all the equipment and machines necessary, plus two nurses talking quietly in the corner. In the middle of the room, Donald Anderson lies small and shrunken on the hospital bed, his wife sitting by his side, watching him. "Blaine." She barely looks up when he enters, just gives a small nod and goes back to looking at her husband. "And hello again, Kurt."
"Hello, Mrs Anderson," Kurt replies, hoping he can mask his surprise. "Sorry to be seeing you in these circumstances."
"Can he hear us?" Blaine asks, staring at his dad.
"The doctor seems to think so," Mara says. "But he's in a very deep sleep and he won't uh..." She breaks for a moment, wiping at her eyes. "He won't wake again."
"I don't know what to say," Blaine admits as he continues to stare. "Do I tell him goodbye? Do I just pretend like nothing is wrong?"
"I'll leave you for a moment," his mom says, entirely avoiding the questions. She closes the door quietly and Blaine takes up the seat she has vacated.
"It's like death's fucking waiting room," he grumbles. He glances to his dad, then at Kurt, then back to his dad again. Slowly, he reaches out, and takes his hand. "Dad? It's Blaine. I just..."
And then he loses it. He falls forward, resting his head onto his dad's chest as he sobs hard. Kurt stands by his side, rubbing small circles on his back as he cries.
"Dad..." he says again, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can't seem to find the words he needs.
"It's okay," Kurt soothes. "He knows, Blaine."
Blaine cries for the longest time and then, finally, he raises his dad's hand to his lips, kisses it, and walks from the room without looking back. Kurt follows, relieved to find the hallway is empty apart from the nurses. Blaine carries on walking, right through the house. He doesn't find anyone to say they are leaving, just unlocks the car and holds Kurt's door open for him, and that is when they're stopped.
"Excuse me!" A young woman, wearing dark jeans and an oversized plaid shirt comes running over from her car, parked on the other side of the circular driveway. Her dark brown hair is in a high ponytail and her eyes are a mesmerizing green. She smiles warmly, but Blaine just glares in return. "I think you're my uncle."
Blaine's face changes instantly and he seeks Kurt's hand, grabbing it hard. "Lucy?"
"Yes! I thought it was you. I haven't seen you since I was nine."
"No, I know. I came to your party."
"And then you disappeared."
"I didn't want to," he says sadly.
She frowns. "But daddy said..." Her eyes find Kurt then, and she realizes they're holding hands. "Oh! Is this...?"
"This is Kurt, my boyfriend."
"Oh my god." She gasps as it hits her. "Is that why we never see you? Grandad says gay people are disgusting, and daddy says it's unnatural. I didn't know... I mean, we were always told you didn't want anything to do with us but... It's not your choice, is it?"
"No," Blaine says softly. "It's really not."
"I'm so sorry." Her beautiful eyes fill with tears, and Kurt wishes he could reach out and hold her. "Please know that I'm not...and Brandon, my brother... I mean, we don't think... I need to call him," she says decisively. "I need to call my brother."
"I think right now you need to go see your grandad," Kurt gently prompts.
"But he's not the man I thought," she says, clearly in turmoil. "And I guess neither is daddy."
"He is. They are," Blaine says firmly. "They might not hold the same views as you, but I'm sure your dad has been good to you."
"Will I see you though?" Lucy asks as tears roll down her cheeks. "If I go in there? Or do I have to wait another ten years?"
"Your dad knows where I am," Blaine says stiffly. "If anyone wants me. And I'm really proud of you, just so you know. Studying to be a journalist."
"Thank you." She smiles shyly and wipes at her eyes. "Though I don't think I'll ever be as outspoken as you."
"Few people are," Kurt tells her.
"I read everything, you know," she says proudly. "Everything you write."
"Good. Well, I'm leaving now," Blaine says, clearly ending the conversation. "See you again."
"Can we not talk?" He asks Kurt as they drive away. "Just for a time. Is that okay?"
"Of course it's okay." Kurt rests his hand on his thigh and squeezes softly knowing that for now, it's enough.
In fact, Blaine doesn't speak again until they are long since home, and Kurt is about to go out of the door for his late afternoon shift at work. "I'll see you later? Or are you out?"
"Not tonight. There's a new exhibit at the grand but I think I'll skip it. I'd rather be home with you."
"Okay."
"Is it weird that I feel like I've gotten closure? Even though he can't speak to me, and I didn't say all I needed to say, I feel like that's it now. I don't feel like it's better, and I don't think less or more of him... I just feel like I'm done, and I can move on."
"I think that's perfectly okay." Kurt takes a moment to decide he will ask Roy to drive him to work instead, meaning he can spend a few extra minutes by Blaine's side. "I wish you both could have reconciled but honestly? I don't think that was ever going to happen. I think that even now, with your mom, there's not going to be any apology forthcoming. You can forgive her, and him, in your own head, if you want to."
"I think it was Lucy who made me feel okay about it all. Like I need to close the door on all of that, and work on getting to know her, maybe, and Brandon. If they want that, of course."
"Oh I think she really does," Kurt agrees. "And she's an adult now. No one can stop her. You might have a longer way to go with Brandon, since he's sixteen, but I think in time he will want to see you too. But you know what else I think? I think that Cooper really wants to make this right, he just doesn't know how."
"Yeah, no, I don't think so, but thanks," Blaine says with a sad smile. He pulls Kurt close, and kisses his cheek. "I love you. Thank you for making me go there today."
"Any time. And Blaine?"
"Yeah?"
"My middle name isn't really Elizabeth. I was just messing with you so you'd focus on something else instead of being brooding and angry."
"What?" He sits up, his mouth open in shock. "Kurt! I don't believe you! Of all the underhand... What is it then?"
"I don't have one." He shrugs then grins, leaning in close. "But you, my darling Blaine, fell for it."
"I hate you," Blaine grouches, but by the time Kurt leaves for work, he's smiling once again.