"Say Something"
It had been one year. Exactly one year since the night of Kurt's death—not that Blaine was counting, but how could he possibly forget? He had been managing, just barely, to move on with his life without Kurt there beside him. But some mornings he still woke up expecting to look over and see Kurt sleeping peacefully beside him. He never was.
Blaine refused to go with Rachel to the gravestone. He couldn't bear to go there unless he was by himself, and even then he could barely stop himself from collapsing and never getting up again.
He'd been getting better. He really had been. But it was that day and he couldn't take it.
He was searching through the cupboard, hoping to find some kind of comfort food that didn't remind him of Kurt, when he saw it. The box of cookies he'd bought a few days ago. Memories flooded his mind and he couldn't keep it in anymore. He fell to his knees in the middle of the kitchen, hugging his middle and sobbing.
Memories of promises to bake cookies twice a year. Memories of burnt cookies and smoke and seemingly ruined evenings. Memories of Kurt's laughter as he pulled the Plan B cookies out of the cupboard and heated some milk on the stove. Memories of laughing and smiling and watching old movies together and being so in love that it didn't matter if the cookies were stale or if the movie's jokes didn't make sense.
All of it was gone. And worst of all, at the heart of it, Kurt was gone.
He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and he flinched, looking up to find Sam crouching behind him, worry written all over his face. "Blaine…"
"Get out," Blaine pleaded weakly. "I need to be alone."
"You really shouldn't be alone—"
"I said get out," Blaine snapped, glaring at his friend. He didn't have the energy at the moment to feel guilty.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Sam said with a soft, resigned sigh. "I miss him, too," he said, voice cracking, before he left the loft.
I know. You have no idea how much I know.
He bolted clumsily to the piano in the corner of the room, finding at least some comfort in the familiar keys beneath his fingers. He started to play, tears already rushing down his face as he sang, raw and aching.
Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'll be the one if you want me to
Anywhere I would have followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you
Sometimes he just wished he could see Kurt's face again. He wished he'd taken more time to commit every detail to memory. He wished he could hear his voice one more time. He wished he could feel him in something real and not just a memory.
I… am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all
Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
Anywhere I would have followed you
Say something I'm giving up on you
If only he could have saved him. If only he'd been stronger. Why wasn't he stronger?
I… will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye
Say something, I'm giving up on you
His voice was like a scream, pleading with every word for Kurt to hold him in his arms just one more time.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
And anywhere I would have followed you
Oh, oh, oh…
Say something, I'm giving up on you
Say something, I'm giving up on you
Say something…
He sagged in defeat and a bit of relief at having gotten that out of his system.
He needed to accept that Kurt wasn't coming back. He knew it, of course, but that didn't mean he could entirely believe it. But he had to believe in something. He had to believe that he would see Kurt again one day. He had to.
For now, he would live on in Blaine's memories. And that would have to be enough.
A/N: I'M HORRIBLE, I KNOW. But I had to write a sequel to this. I am truly sorry. This is dedicated to Merry-the-Cookie because we were drowning ourselves in feels and blangst and all that stuff.
Review please!