Chapter 6 :

The words hung thick in the air around them. Kurt saw the exact point they sunk in for Sebastian because his face seemed to crumple. Something like guilt tugged at Kurt's heart but he was too busy breathing through the spinning in his head to take heed. Sebastian stared at him for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how. Another second of silence passed before his gaze flickered over Kurt's shoulder to Burt and then he turned around and left without a word, the apartment door banging shut behind him.

Slowly, Kurt turned to look at his dad who was still sitting on the couch. The guilt was making itself known with more force now and Kurt's expression turned sheepish and then defensive when he met his dad's disapproving gaze. "What?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know what," Burt said sternly.

Kurt sighed and dropped down on to the couch next to his dad. "Don't tell me you're on his side!"

"It's not about being on sides, Kurt. It's about how much that poor kid has gone through this past week and how you basically ripped the heart outta his chest and threw it at his feet." Kurt bit his lip and wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold. Burt continued, his gaze burning hot into the side of Kurt's face. "I watched him sit by your side night and day, holding your hand and babbling nonsense that all sounded like some version of 'please come back'. Imagine his pain when you woke up and didn't even remember him."

Kurt swallowed around the slow building lump in his throat and refused to look at his father. "It's not my fault," he said weakly. "It's not my fault I don't remember."

"I'm not saying it is, kid. But that doesn't give you a right to treat him like that."

Kurt felt fresh tears burn behind his eyes. "It's not fair," he said, shaking his head. "I can't be married to him."

"Well you are."

Kurt finally looked at his father, frowning. "Why are you being like this?" he asked. "Can't you see how this affects me? I don't want to be married, dad. I can't be married. I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I haven't been to college yet as far as I'm concerned, even if I have a job, I won't know the first thing about what to do. Being married is something I do not need to deal with on top of everything else at the moment."

Burt's arm was heavy when he draped it over Kurt's shoulder and pulled him against his side. "You think I don't that?" he asked softly. "You have been so great with everything so far, I don't blame you for freaking out about being married. But Kurt, the fact is that you are married. To a pretty great guy – no, don't look at me like that. I've got some of those memories you've locked away, remember? I know how great you two are together even if you don't realize it right now. And every time you say that you would never marry him, you're only putting yourself down."

Kurt frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're not stupid Kurt. You were thinking something when you married Sebastian and it sure as hell wasn't how he was a douchebag at eighteen." Kurt was silent for a moment and Burt's arm tightened around his shoulder. "You think my son is stupid enough to go ahead and marry someone if he doesn't truly want to with every fibre of his being?"

Kurt didn't know what to say, he looked away from his dad's gaze at the countless photographs scattered around their apartment, on the walls, on the shelves...a decade worth of happy memories that taunted him from every corner.

"You think getting a divorce is going to solve anything?" Burt continued. "All that's gonna happen is that you're going to get your memories back and realize what a huge ass mistake you made. It's nothing but pain and heartbreak for both of you."

Kurt felt like crying and so he did, he let the tears stream down his cheeks and buried his face in his father's chest. "What am I going to do dad?"

"You'll figure it out," Burt said, holding him tightly. "And like I said, I'll be here to help as long as you need me. But first, you need to stop treating Sebastian like he's doing something wrong by being near you and start treating him at the very least, like a friend. How would you feel if I woke up tomorrow and started denying you were my son?"

That hit him hard and Kurt unconsciously tightened his grip on his dad's shirt. "I feel so lost," he said in an almost childish voice.

Burt rubbed his arm and held him tighter. "I'm here, kid." He said. "And more importantly, you're here. After the accident I thought you'd -" he cut himself off and cleared his throat. "I don't care if you don't get your memories back. I bet you anything you're going to be every bit as fabulous without them."

Kurt sniffled and pressed his cheek hard to his father's shirt before sitting upright and wiping the tears from his face. "I – I'm going to go use the bathroom," he said as he got to his feet.

"You hungry? There's food in the fridge I could heat up for you."
Kurt nodded and gave his father a small smile. "Thanks dad."

He found the bathroom easily; it was bigger than he had expected and one look at the shower told him it was going to be one of his favorite places in the apartment. It was weird though, to see the mix of products lined up on the sink counter. Kurt took a wild guess over which were his and which belonged to Sebastian. He found himself staring at the toothbrushes and wondering if his was the purple one with the hideous stripes or the equally hideous orange one next to it. It wasn't like it mattered at this point but the trivial question was a good distraction. He eventually came to the conclusion that Sebastian probably used two toothbrushes because his teeth needed just that extra amount of care and that he probably had his own toothbrush hidden somewhere else.

Not knowing why - maybe he expected to have hidden his toothbrush in there? - he opened the tiny wooden cabinet on the wall next to the shower and gasped softly when the first thing he saw was a huge bottle of lube. Instinctively, he shut the cabinet and turned away as if his eyes had been burnt. He splashed some cold water on his face and left the bathroom before he could think anything else of the lube and instead, wandered into the bedroom closest to him.

It was comfortably sized with a double bed framed by two gorgeous side tables, each bearing a small, artistic lamp. The bedspread looked like something Kurt would have picked out – it was a simple pattern but mixed in well with the natural color scheme of the room. As nice as the room was though, Kurt knew it couldn't be his bedroom. It felt too impersonal.

He knew he was right the second he walked through the door of the next room. This one immediately felt right. The design was more modern than their guest room, which is what Kurt guessed the other room was for since (and he had another mild panic attack at the thought) he and Sebastian probably slept together. Taking a calming breath and not letting himself think of what he and Sebastian must have done on it, Kurt moved to appreciate the bed, simple and clear cut in its design but no less stylish.

There was a huge abstract painting over the bed but the opposite wall boasted some more personal photographs. Kurt walked over to them and let his eyes scan the shots of him and Sebastian.

There was a rush of sound in his head and ears, like thousands of whispers struggling to make sense. Kurt would have thought that they were memories from looking at the pictures if his heart hadn't been pounding to a panicked rhythm. Kurt reached out and touched his own face in one of the photographs as if the connection would link him with the mind of the man in the frame. It was unreal, looking at this man in the photographs. This man who looked exactly what Kurt would imagine an older him to look like - living a life that he seemed to be perfectly comfortable in, with a husband and friends in the city of his dreams.

Sighing, Kurt moved on to the bookshelf next to the photographs. It was smaller than the bookshelf in the lounge and black instead of white. It criss crossed across the wall and a quick look at the contents told him it contained more slim files that were either related to his or Sebastian's work and tiny artifacts than actual books. Some of the stuff Kurt recognized from his old bedroom and that comforted him, some of the stuff was probably Sebastian and some of the gadgets had familiar logos on them but Kurt didn't have a clue what they did.

That was another thing about waking up ten years in the future, technology hadn't gotten any simpler.

The far left wall of the bedroom was dominated by huge windows – Sebastian hadn't been lying about plenty of natural light. The view was nothing short of breathtaking. The city at the moment was lit up with twinkling lights against the backdrop of the night sky but in the morning, he supposed the sun would have shone bright enough to bathe the entire room in its glow. Kurt spent a few minutes just staring and wondering how beautiful the city must look from here early in the morning or when it was raining or snowing. There could have been a sandstorm outside for all Kurt cared and he would still think it beautiful.

An inspection of his walk in closet followed afterwards and Kurt had to resist the urge to take out every item and examine it closely. He walked around opening random drawers in the bedroom, shifting through stuff that should probably mean something to him – scribbled notes, numbers and dates, a color coded planner (Kurt set that aside to come back to later). He kept expecting something to jog his memory, something to shout out to him, but he couldn't feel too disappointed when it didn't.

When he had thought about moving to New York, he had been prepared for a tiny, cramped apartment where he'd be stepping on Rachel's toes wherever he turned, he had thought about curling up close next to Blaine in their first apartment, slightly larger than the one he had shared with Rachel but lacking in a proper heating system. That would have been fine though, because it would have meant that they had to cuddle to keep warm.

He hadn't been thinking about getting a place like this for years. It was surreal, it felt like something too precious to be his, something he was afraid someone would take away from him any second. Whatever Kurt may have felt about everything else he had woken up to, his apartment definitely felt like home. He could feel the love and care he (and Sebastian, don't forget Sebastian) had put into setting it up. Other things may have to take some getting used to but Kurt knew that he would always feel at home in this place.