A good friend recently told me that I write myself into the stories and characters. I totally do. I went on a tour of Europe and everything Kurt thinks, is exactly what I thought. I was blown away by Paris, and felt reverence in the Sistine Chapel. I went to Dachau (concentration camp) and it made me so sad I felt sick. A little forewarning, there is a little cliffhanger. I have no self control! Most of this is Kurt's inner monologue. Let me know what you think!
Paris was more beautiful than he expected. After three weeks of a European tour going from Amsterdam to Rome, and a dozen cities in between, Kurt had thought that he had lost the ability to be awed.
But Paris took his breath away. Standing on top of the Eiffel Tower, seeing the city lights sprawled out in every direction below him…it almost worked. It almost lifted the smothering depression that had weighed on him since that last night with Dave.
He'd had hours on the tour bus between cities. Hours to stare out the window and relive that day over and over again in his mind.
The blissful hours on the lake, the warm camaraderie with Puck and Finn at the camp fire, the laughter and conversation at the iHop, and those heart stoppingly beautiful moments in the parking lot. The magic of dancing with the boy he loved underneath the brilliant, star strewn June sky. And then, arriving home, everything had changed.
He'd expected a scene. A big, homophobic showdown. He'd expected Dave's father to punch him and yell "My son aint a queer" or something similar. Something like they portrayed in the after school specials about coming out.
In a way he almost wished that had happened. Then he could be angry. And at this point, he'd take any emotion over this crippling depression.
Dave's parents had been polite. They'd apparently spent the hour before Kurt and Dave's arrival talking with Carol and Burt. They didn't linger; nodding at Kurt, and asking Dave to follow them home. Dave had followed them docilely, sparing only a quick last glance at Kurt; his face inscrutable.
And that was the last time Kurt saw or heard from him before leaving for this trip. It had been the most excruciating 48 hours of his life. He'd remained alert; even until the last minute before boarding, for any sign of him. A text message. A note passed from a friend. A quick call. A face book status message. Anything.
But there had been nothing. And Kurt's calls to him had gone straight to voicemail. And he hadn't responded to any of his texts. Leaving Kurt with a stomach churning combination of panic and sorrow.
His father hadn't helped. When Kurt asked him about what he'd talked to Dave's parents about, his father had been uncharacteristically close mouthed, stating that it was between him and Dave's parents. He's stated that they were good people, who were trying to do the right thing for their son, and for Kurt.
Kurt had scoffed at that. How could separating the two of them; when they were in love, be the right thing? How could making Kurt suffer through 2 endless days without contact be the right thing?
It had been 3 weeks and 2 days now. 3 weeks in which Kurt had seen so much of the world.
He'd touched the weathered white stones of the Coliseum in Rome. He'd sat on the hard wooden benches of the Vatican and stared up at the Sistine chapel. Even he; an atheist, couldn't help but feel the sacred atmosphere of that place.
He'd climbed behind the secret book shelf in Amsterdam, and seen the attic where Anne Frank and her family had hid all those years ago.
He'd floated down the canals of Venice on a gondola and eaten rich dark chocolate in Austria, staring at the Alps, which; at dawn, glowed almost a blue color.
He'd stood in the middle of Dachau; a concentration camp just outside Munich. It had probably been the only place he'd actually be able to put his problems into perspective. Those people had lost their families and their lives. His losing his heart didn't seem like such a big deal. Not when he was staring at a crematorium.
But now he was here in the last city of the tour. Paris. The City of Love. He'd board a flight home tomorrow. Whatever temporary bandage time and distance had provided, it was now ripped off, leaving his heart as raw and open as the day he'd left.
He wasn't going to go home and wait; nerves on edge, for Dave to finally call. He was going to find the other boy. Even if this was it…even if Dave said it was over, knowing had to be better than this endless limbo.
But Dave wouldn't say it was over. He couldn't say that. Kurt couldn't let his mind even go there. He was going home tomorrow and everything was going to be ok. Maybe Dave would even be waiting to surprise him at the airport. Maybe…
He wasn't at the airport. And when Kurt got his beloved iphone back from his dad; who'd embraced him like he'd been away 3 years instead of weeks, it held 41 missed texts and calls. None of them from Dave.
On the ride home he'd been unable to stop himself from asking his dad if Dave had stopped by. He's seen the way his dad's mouth tightened; his eyes narrowing briefly. It was the way his dad looked whenever he was trying to keep something from Kurt. Trying to protect him. After a lengthy pause, he finally revealed that Dave hadn't called or stopped by even once.
Kurt held himself together for the remainder of the trip; injecting an almost frantic false levity to his voice, as he told his dad about his trip. He discussed all the sights, and his crazy bus mates, who were either perpetually drunk or squabbling amongst themselves. He hoped he'd done enough to fool his dad.
He must have been at least a little convincing, because when he'd told his dad that he was tired upon entering the house, he'd readily encouraged him to go and catch a quick nap.
Kurt stumbled the last few feet to his room; closing and locking the door behind him.
Then he broke down.
Falling to his knees; he felt the crushing burden of sadness and rejection overtake him at last. He'd fended it off for over three weeks, but coming home; finding that Dave apparently hadn't spared him a thought, it was the last little push he needed to go over the edge.
Sobs broke from his chest; and he hastily covered his mouth with his hand; muffling the anguished sounds of his despair. Hot tears splashed down his face, and his body trembled with the force of his pain. Looking up; trying to stem the flood of tears, his eyes fell on the bed.
The bed. Oh God.
In his mind he was in that place; that moment again. In the twilight drenched room; stretched out alongside Dave; teasing him about his song choice. Falling more in love with him with each brush of his lips.
How could Dave not have found a way to contact him? If their roles were reversed, Kurt didn't care how mad it made his parents, he would have found some way of letting Dave know he still cared. Even if he had to sneak out and walk to his house. Even if he had to crawl, he would never have let the other boy go through what Kurt was going through. But maybe; even after all they'd shared; he didn't really know Dave after all. Because the Dave he knew; the Dave that was desperately in love with him…he would have found a way.
This is where falling in love led. You can't keep falling forever. You have to hit the ground sometime; and for Kurt; it was this moment. The impact tore at his wounded, raw heart...breaking it into a million pieces.
In spite of that, he wasn't going to give up on his resolve. He was going to make himself go and find Dave. Tonight. He wasn't going to let the other boy; the boy who had officially broken his heart, off the hook that easily.
Climbing on his bed, he wrapped the quilt from the foot of his bed around his body. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
His iPod dock alarm read 9:35 PM. He'd slept for 6 hours. Kurt hadn't realized how tired he was. The combination of jet lag and despair was a lethal one.
Stripping off his travel and sleep rumpled clothes; he pulled on a pair of dark wash Levi skinny jeans, topped by a light black sweater. He wanted to look presentable for this confrontation. He had to do this tonight. He wouldn't sleep again until he did.
Gathering up every last vestige of courage he possessed; he slipped down the stairs, grabbing his keys and wallet. Luckily he spied Finn watching TV, who informed him that the parents were out at a movie. One obstacle down.
Informing Finn he'd be back momentarily, he took a deep breath and stepped out the door. This was going to be harder than he thought. But nothing could be harder than spending another night with no explanations, no official ending.
Dave owed him that; at the least.
His dash clock read 10:17 when he arrived. Not exactly social hours. He was shocked to see only one car in Dave's driveway. Well, one truck really. Dave's truck.
It looked like his parents were out.
It would be just the two of them. If he even bothered to answer the door.
Kurt hadn't even been conscious of the fact that he was walking to the door. Hadn't realized it until he stood there; facing the dark red wood; bathed in the dim glow of the porch light.
Before he could think about it too much, he pushed the doorbell. He didn't know what he was going to say. Didn't have a script. He only knew he'd come too far to turn back.
It took exactly 32 seconds for Dave to answer the door. Kurt counted each one of those seconds; his heart beating in ever increasing rhythm. Then he was there.
And even though pain radiated from every one of his pores, and his heart lay in pieces, Kurt couldn't help but feel a agonizing rush of joy; at just at the sight of him. God; he had forgotten how beautiful the other boy was.
And suddenly all of his resolutions; all of the angry and questioning things he come here to say, they all faded away. And he just wanted Dave to hold him; and tell him that he hadn't been dreaming.
He needed him to say that they had met up in the choir room in secret. That Dave had dedicated two songs to him. That they'd made dinner together, and gone to the movies, and danced in the parking lot on that magical night.
He needed Dave to tell him that it had all been real and that it had all meant something.
His eyes closing; he reached out instinctively, grabbing onto Dave's arms. Touching Dave for the first time in 23 days; it sent a jolt of heat; of awareness through him. He felt as though he was awakening from a deep, numbing sleep.
Opening his eyes; he couldn't bring himself to look the other boy in the eye. He couldn't bear to see the rejection and disgust he feared might be there.
Eyes level with Dave's tensed chest, he spoke; his usual confidence stripped away, leaving his voice hesitant and low.
"Dave….I…I missed you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for coming here. I know you staying away means you don't want to see me, but I couldn't leave things like they were...I had to...I had to see you. "
Letting go of Dave's arms; he reached one hand up to impatiently swipe at the tears trailing down his cheeks. Then he wrapped both arms around himself. Dave hadn't said anything. It hurt so badly he couldn't breathe. Humiliation became to penetrate the numbness, and he didn't know how much longer his legs would hold him. Finding a last ounce of strength, he pushed forward.
"I don't know if it's your parents, or maybe you, but I want you to know that I won't bother you. It took me a while...but I think I got the message. Just…please, don't let me leave without saying anything. I...I...need to understand. Please, Dave...please"
Dave didn't speak. And his fathomless hazel eyes gave nothing away.
Kurt's shoulders slumped in defeat. Apparently he wasn't even going to get his one request. Dave wasn't going to tell him why he was giving up on them.
This was it then. Why was he still standing here? His brain screamed at him to move; to get away from here; to go run before he started begging. His heart kept urging him to linger; just another minute. Surely another minute would change the outcome.
And his heart; for all the battering it had taken over the last several weeks, was right.
Because another minute did change the outcome.
Because one minute later Dave was kneeling down in front of him, taking off his shoes. Kurt's dazed mind was too busy soaking in the feeling of Dave's hands on him to question the strange action.
After the shoes, Dave slid his arms over's Kurt's dislodging the light coat Kurt had thrown over his sweater.
Carefully putting both the shoes and the coat in the closet just inside the door, he returned to Kurt. And then he was reaching his strong arms around him and Kurt's feet left the ground.
And as the bliss of being wrapped up in those arms again saturated Kurt's defeated heart and soul, he was aware that he was being carried. Across the threshold, up the stairs, and into a dimly lit room.
As Dave set him down gently; moving to take off his own shoes, Kurt registered the sound of music.
You and Me, by Lifehouse. The song they'd waltzed to in the parking lot.
When it ended and started again, Kurt realized that Dave had it on repeat track.
In another moment, Dave had pulled them both into the bed; wrapping his arms securely around Kurt.
Kurt became conscious of three things.
One- Dave had lost a significant amount of weight. Two- Dave's whole body was shaking. And three- Dave still loved him.
Gradually, Kurt pulled his head back, until he was lying face to face with Dave, only inches separating them.
Hazel eyes clouded with pain, Dave opened his mouth to speak.
"Kurt…"