Four days ago.
That's how long it had been since Kurt went. Today was the day of Kurt's funeral. Blaine didn't know how he was going to get through the day. If you asked Blaine Anderson if he missed his husband, he would say no. He didn't just miss Kurt. He craved him. He missed his voice, hearing in it the morning when he sang show tunes while getting ready for the day. He yearned for those beautiful eyes that sparkled like the night sky. He hungered to kiss Kurt's lips, to hold his hand and smell his sweet, natural musk. He wanted so badly to make love to Kurt at least one more time, to feel him, hear him breathe, cuddle into him afterwards. It felt like forever since he last had a conversation with Kurt.
Just the other day, Blaine went out to the convenience store to pick up a pack of gum when he swore to god he saw Kurt. There was a tall, teenage boy, facing away from Blaine. He couldn't see the boy's face, but his hair and posture looked exactly the same as Kurt's. Blaine literally froze in place, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. But when he turned around, Blaine's gut dropped when he saw it was not Kurt. It was just a regular teenage boy, with brown eyes instead of glimmering blue, his skin too tan and not pale, his features not the same as Kurt's. Plus, his arm was around a teenage girl who kept laughing obnoxiously at whatever he said. Blaine's heart sunk at the realization that Kurt wasn't here anymore. He almost started crying right there in the middle of the store.
Blaine also had many dreams of Kurt, too, even though it wasn't too long ago that he passed on. They weren't scary dreams of Kurt's dead, rotting corpse or anything like that. Blaine once had a rather pleasant dream where he stood in the choir room with him. There he'd be, alive and well and glowing with delight.
"Blaine," Kurt would say, smiling and running into Blaine's arms.
"Kurt, I've missed you," Blaine would say.
"I've missed you too. I'm so sorry I left you for this long."
"Please don't ever leave me again."
"I promise, Blaine. I promise."
Their lips would meet, and Blaine almost wanted to cry because it felt so goddamn real, like Kurt really was in his arms, his mouth moving slowly against Blaine's. But then his eyes would gently flutter open, the dream slipping away from him, and there he'd be, curled up in a little ball with his bed sheets thrown all over the place. Blaine would sigh, rubbing his hand across his face as he frustratingly wiped away his sleep.
Now, standing in front of his mirror, Blaine fumbled with the grey knot on his tie. He dressed neatly and properly in a black button down with a black blazer over top, black slacks and black dress shoes, his hair gelled down slightly. There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Blaine called.
In walked Blaine's mother, wearing black dress pants, a black dress shirt and her hair pulled back into a pony tail. Her face was make-up less, because she knew she was probably going to cry and she didn't want her face to resemble a clown.
"Need help?" she asked.
"Please," Blaine turned to her and his mother got working on the tie.
"How're you doing?" she asked, her eyes darting from the tie to her son's face.
"How do you think?" Blaine muttered sarcastically.
"I know it's going to be hard today, sweetie," Blaine's mother sighed, finishing her work with the tie. "I know how much Kurt meant to you."
"You can't even begin to imagine."
"He was important to me, too."
"It's not fair. This shouldn't have to happen today."
"I know, Blaine." She smoothed back a tiny, loose curl into her son's head. "I know it's not fair. I wish we didn't have to do this today. Be strong for Kurt, honey."
"I can't. He keeps telling me to be strong but I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to do it. I feel him everywhere, mom. I see him and I hear him in everything I do. I can't be strong when he keeps coming back."
She gave Blaine a sympathetic smile. "I promise, it will all heal in good time, sweetie."
"Maybe."
After Blaine's sister, Stacey, was finished getting ready, the family headed into the car and drove to the cemetery where the funeral would be held. The drive was long, and each minute that passed, the more anxious Blaine grew. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard it almost bled. He tapped his fingers on his knee. He tried thinking of anything, anything else but Kurt. But knowing Blaine, that was sort of impossible.
The family arrived outside of a large building, which was the funeral home. They apparently held the best receptions for funerals in all of Ohio. Not like Blaine really even cared. They met up with the Hummel-Hudson's, the New Directions and a few of Kurt's relatives as well. His cousin's that Blaine briefly met at the wedding were huddled in a circle, quietly weeping. Blaine didn't understand how something so amazing brought into the world could be taken out just as quickly.
Wes, David, Nick and Jeff were there as well, dressed in grey and black. They spotted Blaine and immediately approached him with caution and gentleness.
"Hey, guys," Blaine said to his friends, a weak smile on his lips.
"Hey man," David said, giving his friend a hug.
"We're so sorry," Wes said. His friend's really didn't know what else to say.
"I am, too," Blaine swallowed. "Thanks for coming."
"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Nick said.
Blaine gave hugs and greetings to his fellow New Direction's members, all dressed in dark shades and some even crying.
"Blaine," Mercedes came up to him, tears running down her face as they hugged.
"Hi, Mercedes," Blaine spoke into her hair.
"I don't know if I can do this," she cried.
"We can," Blaine told her, his hands on her shoulders as he looked her in the eye. "We'll do it together. We can do this."
"I miss him so much."
"So do I."
And then there was Burt. Burt, who stood completely still, like a statue watching everyone. With his hands crossed in front, head looking down and up, he didn't say much to anybody. Blaine walked over to him anyway.
"Hi, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, and Burt looked up.
"Good morning, Blaine," Burt said, trying to smile. "And it's Burt."
"Right-sorry," Blaine shook his head.
"Think you can handle today, kid?" Burt suddenly asked, and Blaine blinked.
"I... will try my best to," Blaine replied, and Burt clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Good. I know Kurt would want us to be strong for him."
There were more people at the funeral than at the wedding. Even Mr. Shue and Ms. Pillsbury showed up, both shaking Burt's hand and telling them how horrible they felt about all of this. Later on, the group was ushered into a large, carpeted room with white-painted walls and fake plants everywhere. Blaine thought he was about to collapse when he saw it. There, at the end of the room, sitting so still and solid, was Kurt's casket. It was not an open casket, so Blaine would not be able to see Kurt's beautiful face one last time. The polished, shiny wood was a dark brown color, almost the same as those fancy dining room tables in those department stores that cost way too much. Blaine tried his best not to fall to his knees. His baby was in there. His husband's cold, lonely body was lying in the dark right now.
Many people started to cry at the sight of the casket, many people gasped and some even had to walk out of the room. But Blaine was being pulled over to it, like a magnetic force was beckoning him. Blaine stopped in front of it, and when he turned back around he soon saw that the only people left in the room was him, Burt, Carole, and the New Directions. It was nice to get a little privacy alone with Kurt, and Blaine secretly thought to himself that that was why so many people left the room.
Blaine placed his hand on the casket, not caring whether everyone saw him or not. The second he touched the smooth wood, he burst out into tears. He was actually kind of glad that Kurt's casket was closed and not open, other wise he probably would have ran from the room all the way back home.
"Hi, Kurt," Blaine whispered to the wood. "It's me, Blaine. I'm sure you know that." He paused and took a deep breath.
"I think about you all the time, baby. I miss you so much, and I feel you everywhere. Are you trying to reach me? Reach us? Is that what you're doing?"
Blaine swallowed back a sob and started speaking again.
"I love you. Even if you can't hear me right now, I want you to know that I love you, so much. I don't know how I'm going to do this today. I can't watch them bury you in the ground. You don't belong there. You belong here, with me and your family and friends. You fought incredibly, Kurt, and I'm so happy I got to have some time with you."
Burt came up to the casket, then, standing next to Blaine and letting a few of his tears fall. He placed his hand on top of the casket, trying to tell the body within a message of some sort.
"I love you, kiddo," Burt said in a quiet but firm voice. "Wherever you are, now, you should feel so happy you don't have to fight anymore. You did such a good job. Never forget how much we love you."
More people started gathering around until there was no on at the back of the room anymore. They all pressed together, wiping away tears. Blaine smiled down at the casket. He knew Kurt would have wanted him to smile. He only wished he could see his husband's face one last time.
Blaine leaned down and pressed his lips to the casket, letting them linger there. "I love you, sweetheart. I'll never stop loving you. My god, Kurt, I will never stop loving you."
The tears gathered together in tiny pools on the wood, sliding down until they reached the floor.
ONE AND A HALF HOURS LATER.
The burying process was the hardest thing Blaine ever had to do in his whole life.
He didn't want to think about it ever again. He'd only been to one funeral when he was about six years old, and it was an old relative that he never met before. It's not that he didn't care about his family member who died, it's just he was too young to understand what was going on, plus he wasn't close at all with the relative, so he shed no tears. Now he understood what it felt like to lose a loved one.
While at a funeral, they actual burying of the body isn't done in front of anyone. The casket is just lowered into the ground after a few words from anyone willing to say anything, and then afterwards, people are free to leave. Even though it was a summer day and the air was humid, there were plenty of clouds in the sky, light and grey and fluffy. They blocked most of the sunlight, and some little rays were able to peak their way through the clouds, casting shadows on some tree branches.
Blaine stood at his husband's tomb stone. He stared at it with red, puffy eyes, reading the carved stone letters over and over again.
Kurt Hummel-Anderson
1994-2012
Forever in our hearts.
Blaine stared down into the large, dark hole with his love's body at the bottom, concealed by a wooden tank. He wanted to jump inside the hole and never come out. He wanted to be apart of the earth, inside of it so he'd never have to face pain again. But of course he knew he could not do that, so instead, he dropped a yellow rose into the hole and landing on the casket. The bright flower blossomed with life, the color representing friendship and love. Blaine thought it looked beautiful, even on top of something so dead. Blaine looked up at the partly-cloudy-partly-sunny sky through the trees and sighed.
"Hey, Blaine," said a voice from behind him. He turned around and saw that it was Rachel, followed by the rest of the glee club. Blaine smiled through his tears.
"Hi," Blaine said. "What's this?"
Blaine gestured to the object Rachel was hiding behind her back. She showed it to Blaine, a round, white balloon tied around her pinky finger with a blue ribbon.
"We picked it up on our way here," Sam said.
"Maybe we could use it as some sort of memorial," Mercedes said.
A warm gust of wind picked up again, just like the time when Blaine and Rachel were at the hospital. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it had enough power to blow some leaves and twigs away from Kurt's grave. Blaine smiled to himself in his head. I can feel you, Kurt. I know you're here.
"Yeah," Blaine stepped forward. "Let's do it."
"For Kurt," said Rachel.
"For Kurt," Blaine agreed.
All the New Directions stepped forward as well, circling around Blaine and Rachel, who held the blue ribbon.
"One, two..." the New Directions chanted.
"...three," and Blaine and Rachel released the ribbon, watching as the white balloon floated up into the sky towards the clouds. Of course Blaine knew it was going to pop once it got way to high in the air, but who knew. Maybe Kurt would hear them, maybe he would know they were trying to tell him I love you and I miss you.\
Everybody's heads stayed tilted up as they watched the round oval of a balloon turn into a tiny speck until their eyes simply couldn't see that far anymore, even when they squinted. The balloon was now gone, traveling up somewhere hopefully beautiful.
"Blaine?" Blaine turned around.
Finn was there, holding a small, red envelope in his large hands. He twiddled it in his hands nervously like it was a ticking bomb, but he handed it over to Blaine a few moments later.
"This is from Kurt," Finn explained.
"Kurt?" Blaine asked.
"Yeah. He wanted me to give it to you. I have no idea what's inside, though, so I guess that's just for you to find out."
Blaine looked down at the envelope in his hands, wondering why he hadn't gotten this sooner. Blaine never really cared to much for mail, and that's why he never got any. But this...this was something from beyond the grave. Kurt had given this to him, probably writing it before he went and only wanting Blaine to read it after he did so. A sudden rush of excitement and curiosity sparked through Blaine, and he wanted so badly just to tear the paper to shreds and scan whatever was inside with his eyes. But he refrained, because no was not the time.
"Kids," said Burt, coming out of nowhere. "We'd better head back home, now. You're all welcome to come over to out place afterwards, but another funeral is going to be happening here in about ten minutes, so we'd better move."
Blaine swallowed. "Give me one minute."
He walked back to the grave, completely alone with it this time. The wind whistled in the trees, shaking some fresh, green leaves off of their branches and gracefully falling to the ground. Blaine crouched down next to the tombstone, pressing his lips lightly to the cold stone.
"Goodbye, Kurt," he whispered. Then, without looking back, he got up and started walking back towards Burt Hummel's vehicle where he would sit inside until he could open the letter.