Chapter Five

December arrived quickly, and with it came icy cold, bitter winds, and quite a bit of snow. With each morning that came and went, Kurt tried to tell himself that things were getting better, that he was healing, that today maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. But by the end of each night, he’d find himself climbing into bed and wishing that he’d wake up to find it was all a terrible, terrible dream.

Sometimes he hoped he’d wake up and he’d just forget, because then maybe he wouldn’t be in so much pain.

That day he had gone to visit Blaine, he had given the young man his phone number. Occasionally, he’d receive a phone call or text from him. The calls he would ignore, just like all the others, letting them go straight to voicemail, watching as the bubble that indicated the number of messages increased by one. The number was over forty now, messages from his family, from his dad, Carole, and Finn, as well as from the few Broadway connections he’d made, and his high school friends. Mercedes had called him countless times, as had Tina, Santana, and Brittany, and even Puck and Sam, but he ignored them all.

Part of him was afraid of the actual talking. Afraid that they’d be able to hear the sadness in his words, or perhaps that his voice would break. He was afraid that they’d ask him questions he couldn’t answer, or didn’t want to answer. Eventually, it had just become routine to ignore them all.

Logically, he knew that he should at least listen to the messages, but the idea of accessing his voicemail wasn’t one he could fathom. He knew that if he lost count, he’d accidentally reach the old messages that Alex had left him, telling him he loved him and he’d see him for dinner that night and he couldn’t wait. Kurt just couldn’t handle that.

So he left the messages unlistened to.

He had to give Blaine credit for catching on. After a week of unanswered, unreturned calls, he texted Kurt. Asked him to see him.

Kurt responded with a simple, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’

Blaine didn’t ask any questions. He just said, ‘I understand.’ Then, ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

Kurt almost wanted to hate him for being so understanding, but every time he had that thought, he took a deep breath and reminded himself that, honestly, he was thankful. He was just angry at everything else.

Somehow, Finn had convinced Kurt to attend Puck’s holiday party. He figured the breaking point was on Christmas morning, as Aiden was excitedly tearing wrapping paper off of presents, and Finn brought it up once again. Only, that time, he had done it in front of Burt and Carole.

“I think it’ll be good for you, kid,” Burt had said, leaning back in his chair. “Carole and I will watch Aiden for ya.”

Kurt sighed, glancing down at his empty cup of coffee before pushing himself off the couch and walking into the kitchen to get more.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sweetheart,” Carole said gently, appearing at his side, “why is it exactly that you don’t want to go?”

Kurt shrugged. “It’s a lot of people,” he told her quietly. “That’s a lot of acting like I’m okay, and if I slip up, a lot of hugs and comforting, and people telling me that it is okay. It’s a lot of people who, honestly, could never understand what it’s like, and I don’t blame them for it, I’m glad they don’t have to feel this way, but...” He trailed off, sighing heavily. “I don’t know if I’m ready to handle all that. I know I’ve taken time to heal, but—”

“It takes some people longer than others,” Carole told him. “Just because some get over loss more quickly doesn’t mean a thing about how long it will take you. You take your time.”

“But?” Kurt asked her, smiling crookedly.

“You won’t truly know how far you’ve come unless you go out there and try,” she said to him. “Maybe you’ve made more progress than you think.”

“And if I haven’t?”

“Then you call me and I’ll come pick you up,” she said. “You can give it a shot, find out you don’t like it or aren’t ready, and then I’ll come and get you. Or, you might find out that it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

Kurt nodded. “You’ll keep that promise?” he asked her. “If I want to come home?”

“Of course,” she assured him, smiling.

He sighed. “Then I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. I’ll do it.”

Just a few days later, Kurt found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Finn’s truck, listening to the latter go on about everything to expect and what topics to avoid. Kurt tried fighting the sensation that he was going to a party with an entirely new group of people he’d never met in his life, not the friends he had spent years growing up with. He half-felt that he’d gone a lifetime without seeing them, not a handful of months.

“You definitely don’t want to ask Quinn about the divorce,” Finn told him. “Artie said that last week, Lauren just mentioned it and then Quinn flipped. And Tina will definitely force you to feel the baby kick. She’s like... eight months along now? Dude, I’m telling you, she’s huge. Oh, and since Sam moved to Columbus last month, he’s coming. He actually promised to pick up Rachel from the airport, since he lives so much closer.” Finn finally paused to take a breath, glancing at Kurt. “Hey, you okay bro? I mean, if you’re not really sure about this...”

Kurt shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted me to come so badly,” he reminded him. “And I’ll take your mother up on her offer if it gets too unbearable.”

Finn nodded quickly. “Good. I’m really, really glad you’re coming, dude. Everyone’s been dying to see you.” He paused. “Uh, yeah, sorry, bad choice of words...”

Kurt rolled his eyes, staring out the window as Finn slowed down considerably, before finally pulling to a stop.

“Well, this is Puck’s new place,” he said, shutting off the ignition and jamming his keys into his pocket. He opened his door and climbed out, Kurt doing the same, a large tin of homemade cookies in his hands. He stared up at the surprisingly large house, hearing the door to the truck slam again. Finn appeared beside him a moment later, one hand on the handle of a case of beer, placing his other hand on his step-brother’s shoulder. “Ready?” he asked, and Kurt nodded. He patted the man’s shoulder and led the way to the front porch, pressing the doorbell the moment they got there.

The door opened seconds later to reveal Puck, sporting a shaved head, but otherwise looking nearly identical as the boy he had known in high school. He gave his usual crooked smile. “Hudson. Hummel. Cookies and beer? Good choice, men.” He stepped back to allow them inside. “All that can go in the kitchen. Show him, Finn?”

Finn nodded, walking in the direction of the kitchen, Kurt following him closely. The counter was already covered with food, as was the small kitchen table, and through the archway Kurt could see that the dining room table had been made into a sort of bar. Finn walked through the kitchen to the other table, setting his case of beer down before picking up a few different bottles of liquor, looking at the labels.

Kurt set down his cookies, just a second before he heard a squeal of, “Kurt!” He turned to the doorway, and Tina was enveloping him in a hug not even a moment later. He grinned, laughing slightly as he awkwardly hugged the very pregnant woman back. “It’s so good to see you,” she sighed, squeezing him tightly. “I was scared you weren’t going to come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he responded with a crooked smile, as she finally released him.

“Would you like to feel the baby kick?” she asked quickly, taking his hand in hers and placing it on her stomach. “Mike and I are expecting a girl this time around. I’m so glad she’ll have her big brother to look after her one day.” She smiled fondly at Kurt. “Come on,” she continued suddenly, removing his hand from her belly and interlacing their fingers. “Everyone will be so glad to see you!”

At that he was being pulled into the living room. Immediately he was being introduced to some girl that Artie had been seeing for a couple weeks, and Brittany was throwing her arms around him to tell him how much she had missed her favorite unicorn, and then he heard the door opening and Rachel was running toward him to kiss him on the cheek. His head was spinning as everyone was telling him stories and asking him questions and he needed a breath.

He excused himself to use the restroom, patting cool water on his face and breathing deeply, placing a hand on either side of the sink to steady himself.

They were his friends, he reminded himself. He was so glad to see them, they were thrilled to see him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it all. He licked his lips, and glanced up at his reflection for a moment before pushing himself up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Forty-six voicemails and four months. He’d kept in relatively good contact with everyone up until that point. How the hell could so much happen in that period of time?

He sighed, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and straightening himself. He opened the door, and gasped slightly when he realized that someone was right outside the bathroom.

“Here,” Finn said, pushing the glass into his hand. “I figured you might need this.” Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Puck made it, I didn’t, so no need to worry.”

Kurt smiled slightly, pressing the glass to his lips, shuddering slightly at the strong taste of alcohol. He wrinkled his nose, but kept drinking.

“It’s starting to snow,” Finn told him. “Tina and Mike just headed out, so they didn’t get stuck here.”

“Are we going to get stuck here?” Kurt asked, the slight concern evident in his voice.

“Nah, dude,” Finn assured him. “I mean, I know it’s Ohio, but it isn’t even January. You know we don’t get the bad storms like that for another few weeks.”

Kurt nodded warily.

“Blaine just showed up,” Finn told him, and with that Kurt drained the rest of his glass, pushing it back toward his step-brother and walked back into the living room.

With what Lauren deemed ‘the responsible couple’ gone, suddenly the others were drinking more heavily. Within no time, Kurt noticed Artie and whatever-her-name-was kissing heatedly in the corner, and Rachel and Finn were doing the same. A few of the others had settled themselves on the couches and chairs and floor and were reminiscing about their high school days, Quinn with a cigarette between her lips, Lauren lighting up one of her own, all of them smiling and laughing.

Kurt liked this better. There was less attention directly on him as they sat in their misshapen circle, talking about what none of them really deemed ‘the good old days’, yet it seemed the only way to refer to it.

Puck, who seemed to have gotten ridiculously drunk in a short period of time, suddenly leaned forward, wrapping his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. The latter raised his eyebrows at the man, laughing slightly.

“Dude,” Puck said. “It’s gotta be said. I am so fucking sorry about everything.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You were young and stupid, I get it,” he said, waving his hand.

“No, not that,” Puck said, grasping Kurt’s shirt, so that the other boy had to look at his face. “I mean, yeah that, but that isn’t what I mean.” He paused. “Alex. That shit is so fucking messed up.”

Kurt’s breath caught slightly, and suddenly Brittany was leaning toward him, too. “He’s right,” she said, sounding on the verge of tears. “It isn’t fair! Of everyone, you’re the one it never should have happened to.” Without another moment, Santana was taking the blond in her arms, comforting her. Even Lauren, whom he’d never been particularly close to, was putting a hand comfortingly on Kurt’s shoulder.

It was too much. He pushed himself up off of the couch and rushed out of the room, out of the front door. He took a shuddering breath, grasping onto the porch railing.

“Kurt?”

He whipped around, breathing heavily, staring at the dark-haired man before him. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, licking his lips, and shaking his head.

“I want to go,” he breathed out. “Carole said she’d come and get me but Finn said it wasn’t snowing this hard, and... god, I just want to leave.”

“Come to my house,” Blaine offered softly. “They’re all talking about staying the night at this point, anyway, and this way, you don’t have to have Carole driving in this weather.”

“We had too many drinks to be driving,” Kurt said shakily, and Blaine merely smiled.

“I’m less than a mile away,” he said. “At worst, it’ll be a fifteen minute walk, if you don’t mind that.” Kurt stared at him uneasily. “I can go in and tell Finn for you, if you want.”

He sighed, nodding. He was really desperate to get away, and would take any opportunity he could get.

A few minutes later, Blaine held out Kurt’s coat to him, pulling up the hood on his own jacket. He paused slightly, and Kurt noticed his hand twitch, as though he were about to grab Kurt’s hand before thinking better of it.

“Come on,” Blaine said softly, instead. “Let’s get going before it gets any worse.”