May 13, 2014, 7 p.m.
Always and Forever: Always and Forever
T - Words: 6,822 - Last Updated: May 13, 2014 Story: Complete - Chapters: 2/? - Created: May 13, 2014 - Updated: May 13, 2014 153 0 0 0 0
Back story: Kurt gets pregnant at the night of Mr. Schues not-wedding. In my head cannon, Klaine took turns topping that night. So theres that. Thanks for reading. If I get at least 10 reviews/favorites/follows, I may be amenable to posting the alternate ending. Until then –C.
P.S. See you on Tumblr (KlaineLoveAndSnarryDreams), Twitter .at(heyitschesca) and Facebook (eastwoodgirl). Comment/Suggest there using (hashtag) # CMOliverFanfiction.
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McKinley High Glee Room a.k.a. War Room -15:00 hrs (CST)
"The Tubbington Asteroid is scheduled to enter the Earths exosphere in 5 hours." Brittany declares grimly, not looking up from the screen of her computer. "We need a contingency plan, Chief Sylvester. The miscalculation Israel made cost us a lot. Evacuation is a moot point. The rock heading towards us is 150,000 times bigger than what we expected. Its size alone upsets the speed by which NASA originally predicted for it to breach the atmosphere. Atmospheric pressure would not be enough to burn down the asteroid to a manageable size. According to the simulator Sugar worked on, by the time of impact, Tubbington Asteroid will be approximately the size of the moon." By this time, she looks up, her blue eyes meeting that of her superiors. "If we dont do anything about the trajectory, the resulting impact –" Brittany hesitates. Sue Sylvester notices her indecisiveness. She frowns.
"Spit it out, Pierce, we havent got all day –literally."
"What Brittany wants to say," Sam, who was next to his girlfriend, cuts in. "Is that we are all screwed. The resulting collision would be enough to knock the planet off its orbit."
"We die," Tina puts in bluntly. "Either from the impact or from the disruption of the Earths orbit. We either get fried from the emissions or from going too close to the Sun."
"I repeat, were screwed," says Sam, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his seat. Sue sighs uncharacteristically.
"Well, its been nice knowing you dweebs. And since were at the last moments of human race here on earth, let me make a confession. You secret nerds are not underpaid. I just take a cut from all your government-allocated pay checks to fund my backyard space trip business." She takes a seat on the piano stool. "Theres that. And since it seems that we have nothing better to do while we wait for our impending doom, I vote that we spend our last few hours wrestling with Schusters impossibly bouncy curls –"
"Wait! I have an idea." Artie suddenly wheels inside the War Room. "Ive just gotten off the phone with NASA –well, I mean one of the techs, but its as good as all the help we can get." He pauses, catching his breath before continuing on. "There may be a way to lessen the damage the Tubbington Asteroid inflicts, if not, stop it from entering the atmosphere altogether."
"You are no fun, Wheels." Sue rolls her eyes. "Spill –whatever top-secret bullshit idea a NASA janitor fed you." Artie shrugs as he takes center of the room.
"We launch a rocket-guided missile –or two. A direct hit dead-center of the asteroid would be enough –hopefully –to disrupt its path, if not to make it break into much smaller pieces before it hits the Earths crust. We have to specifically time the missiles to go off at precisely the exact moment the asteroid hits the Exosphere. A moment too soon, we waste the help the Earths atmosphere can give in pulverizing this boulder. A moment too late, well, we miss our chance altogether."
"That requires micro-precision, Artie," Marley speaks up, a thing she rarely does during meetings like these. "No matter how advanced the technology we use, there is still a chance that the rocket could go off at the wrong moment. One miniscule miscalculation can cause the asteroid to explode over a highly-populated area instead of over the Pacific. I dont think that remote control –" she stops, suddenly looking terrified of what she was about to suggest.
"What Nora Jones wanna-be here is trying to say," Kitty interrupts the pregnant pause. "Is that a manned craft is our best bet –qualified Space Pilots who can assure that the missiles go off at the exact moment theyre needed to go off." She throws the rest of them her best bitch glare. "It we attempt Arties idea, the way to do it is to send a missile out into the orbit, old-school style."
"But –thats dangerous!" Unique blurts out. "The craft would have to be close enough to generate an impact sufficient to shatter the asteroid –give or take 5 miles, would be optimum according to my calculation. And that is too close for our men to get out unscathed –"
"Abrams," Sue cuts him off. "If we substitute a manned craft in your schematics, what –are the chances of a return flight after the explosion?"
"Nil." Artie swallows hard, his voice shaking. "Sending a manned craft –it would be a suicide mission. The collision of the missile with Tubbington Asteroid –the resulting explosion would be enough to pulverize –" Arties sentiments trail off, but the words he manages to choke out were enough to paint the terrifying fate of whatever it is that they send up out there to battle the huge boulder on its way to destroy them all. Nobody speaks for a while, everyone present, seemingly reluctant to accept the inevitability of that scenario.
"So thats it?" Will Schuster breaks his silence. "We send out our kids to their deaths? Why cant NASA do it? Send their men –"
"NASA isnt, never was, and never will be a viable option." Sue barks at him. "You know the ugly truth, Butt-Chin. NASA is but a front. The real men and women of space science are in facilities like this across the nation." She glances around. "And the kids we have here are simply the best of the best –these children –are the worlds last hope."
"But theyre just KIDS, Sue!" Will argues heatedly. "When we got them into this –" his train of thought falters. "None of them deserve to make this huge of a sacrifice –"
"Youd rather sacrifice the whole human race then, Schuster? Because if you have any other ideas to save our asses with ZERO collateral damage, Id very much like to hear them now."
"Collateral damage?" Will reiterates. "You regard our space pilots lives as collateral damage? Sue –"
"Call me heartless, Schuster," Sue meets his heated gaze. "But Ill let you know that I hate this as much as you do. The only difference is that I KNOW that this is a call I have to make. A tough one, but a necessary call." The tone of her voice dares Will to contradict her, but after what seems like a lifetime of stunned silence, it appears that he had nothing else to say to oppose her. The Glee Club Moderators face goes pale, his lips draw into a tight line. Sue turns away from her second-in-command and addresses the room again.
"Before we deal with the nitty-gritty, any advisement on public information?"
"A cover-up would be our best bet," Kitty volunteers. "If we tell people the truth, it would only breed panic, and the last thing we want is a bunch of headless chickens running amok."
"The explosion would not go unnoticed," Tina seconds her. "We can at least announce a meteor shower for tonight."
"Wouldnt that get people out on the streets?" Unique asks. "Dont we want them to stay safe indoors?"
"Its the best we can put up in less than five hours." Tina sighs. "We can always say that there will be toxic emissions or something like that. People always buy that crap."
"Asian has a point." Sue nod thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons in her head. After a while, she issues out her orders. "Wheels, McCauley Caulkin, get Israel and write the press release. Kitty, Asian, contact Langley and get a clearance for a launch in three hours. The rest of you, work on those calculations as if your life depended on it –heck, it actually does, so NO ROOM FOR MISTAKES –"
"So –who do we send out?" Shannon Bieste, third-in-command, breaks her silence. She was the one who deals with personnel assignment for the Facility, a designation she adored –until that day. How can she not hate it? She is about to have a hand in sending a child into his/her death for the sake of humanity. It was a noble cause, but she still felt like an executioner.
"List, Bieste." Sue acknowledges her with nary a glance. "And unlike those cowardly baloneys at NASA, I do care if they are of voting age at least, underage, underage parents, just plain parents or parents to be, or with parents who depend on them for sustenance and what-not. Get me the best man or woman for the job."
Bieste consults her list. "That takes Senior Pilot Hudson out. His girlfriend Rachel is expecting. Hes out on leave because of her delicate pregnancy. Jake Puckerman is only sixteen and is an only child. Ryder Lynn is dyslexic. Becky Jackson is battling depression aside from her Down Syndrome…" The list goes on and on. Bieste is torn whenever she had to cross a name out: elated that she gets to save a child from a terrible destiny, horrified that she actually has to make the cuts as if those kids were but contestants on a reality competition. Her eyes quickly skim the rest of the names until she gets to the very last one. Her heart plummets.
No, not him. Hes a good kid. He has so much ahead of him.
Sue notices her hesitance and grimaces. She stands up from her spot in front of the piano and walks up to Bieste. She motions for the football coach to hand the list over. Bieste wavers and meets Will Schusters eyes in concern. Will seems to get her thoughts, for he stands up next and moves right next to Sue.
"Sue, Ill –Ill do it. These kids, please –you have to let me do it."
Sue glares daggers at Will. "Did you not hear what Little Miss Bulimic said a while ago, Schuster? Precision is key or we all fry up to our deaths. Answer me," exasperation clear in her voice. "Are you a qualified space pilot? Are you specifically trained to handle these types of situations like these kids are? Well, are you?" Will looks defeated, but he answers nonetheless. "No. But Sue –"
"Get out of my face if you would only be anything but useful." She turns to Bieste once again, her arms outstretched. "List." Bieste looks like she was about to argue, but in the end, she hands the paper over with a heavy heart. Sue wastes no time reading the names in there, noting that 11 out of 12 names were all out of commission one way, or another. Her eyes finally rest on the sole name that was left uncrossed –their only hope. But the moment the name registers in her brain, she almost wishes that it did not. Hes a good boy, a very good boy. Surely, he did not have an illegitimate child somewhere out there and he was of voting age at least. His family was well-off and he had a brother. He was fit and right as rain. He did not have a beau as of the moment, at least none that Sue knows of. Porcelain was reportedly seeing that Harry Potter reject… but that did not mean that the kid was expendable. No, he certainly is not expendable. Sue thinks. Hes one of the best and brightest of their kids, and even she cannot deny that. He may have lost to her in their last musical feud, but he was still a good kid. One of her own…
Nevertheless, as soon as the worry crossed her face, Sue forces herself to look neutral. Clinical. Uncaring. She would have to be. She is knowingly sending an innocent soul to the gallows. She glances at the name on the list once more. She closes her eyes briefly as she uttered a silent prayer. May she be forgiven for her final command as Chief of the Facility. There was no way shed give herself another chance to do this again.
"Send for Anderson, ASAP."
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McKinley High Locker Room a.k.a. Facility Barracks -16:00 hrs (CST)
Blaine Anderson leaves the room with a heavy heart. He has listened to Chief Sylvesters pep talk about being a hero and garnering pride and honor, but honestly, nothing registers properly in his head. He goes into briefing and out in no time. He ignores Mr. Schusters guilty looks, or Tinas sympathetic ones. He avoids Marleys offer of a hug and disregards Sams words of encouragement. He fails to acknowledge Coach Biestes show of support and side steps Arties attempt at a fist bump. Because honestly, what good could they do to him now? Not that he wasnt thankful for them, nor was he averse to the idea of saving the world. No, he signed up for this knowing exactly what risks were involved. When Kurt left for New York, he knew he had wanted to make sense of his life on his own apart from Glee and Student Council, apart from the superhero sidekick club hed established, apart from mixed martial arts. Blaine Anderson had wanted to serve and protect beyond the tight costumes and tacky codenames. Thus when Coach Sue and Coach Bieste approached him for the Facility, he took no second guessing. He wasnt completely a Science nerd like Artie, or maybe, surprisingly, like Brittany and Sam, so he signed up for the Space Pilot program with Jake, Ryder, Becky, Finn and a couple other Cheerios. When he had first watched Armageddon, he knew right then and there that he had wanted to at least experience space flight. To Blaine, it was plain fiction back then. Now, he was living it in the worst possible way.
Because honestly, now? When he was younger, Blaine imagined himself dying a heroic death, but it wasnt going to be for a few decades, he reckoned. Perhaps it was when he was past his fifties, his children all grown up, and his spouse contented and comfortable with their lives… Definitely not at 19.
He enters his private rooms –private now, since his roommate and co-pilot Finn Hudson had to see to his delicately pregnant girlfriend. Blaine had the room to himself now –he had this monumental task to himself now. Alone. He finally sits on the edge of his bed, counting the minutes til hes supposed to board his craft. Ten minutes. He was given ten fucking minutes to sort his affairs. He only needed three. His thoughts gloss over his parents –ever since he came out, they both pretended he didnt exist anyway. It will not matter to Michael and Grace Anderson if they never get to see their gay son again. For a second, Blaine debates whether to call Cooper or not. In the end, he decides to count his older brother out. Cooper, for all his good-nature, wasnt exactly the person to talk to when you find out that youre about to die.
Instead, Blaine grabs his phone and stares at the screensaver. It is an old image of two boys in navy blazers with their arms wrapped around each other. A smile crosses his lips. It all seems like a lifetime ago… Dalton, McKinley, Lima, New York… Blaine interrupts his own train of thoughts. Now is not the time to reminisce. He hits # 3 on his speed dial and waits. It takes 5 rings before the other end picks up.
"Hello, Blaine?" The soft, cheery voice answers him. Blaine closes his eyes and for a moment of indulgence, imagines seeing the breathtakingly beautiful face that matched that timbre: the perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, the bright ocean eyes, the candy pink lips, the smooth porcelain skin. Blaine bites his own lips. He has to stop torturing himself like this.
"Hey, Kurt." Blaine knows that if it is to be his last day on earth, it is none other than Kurt Hummel that hed want to spend it with. Kurt, who is currently living their dream in New York –his best friend, soul mate, and currently ex-boyfriend. Blaine now wishes more than ever that he could remove those two extra letters that constantly remind him of how bad he had fucked up. He knows that there is a lot to make up for, but for now, he has to do this. There might not be another time. There wont be. He corrects himself bitterly. He forces out s fake laugh. "I miss you." Blaine makes sure to say it in the present tense. Kurt chuckles airily in return. It is another friendly, social call, it seems.
"Oh you… so, whats up? Anything interesting you just have to share with me?" Kurt asks genially, effortlessly filling in the shoes of one Blaine Devon Andersons best friend. The quip reminds Blaine of two things: one, there was no point in wanting to be more than Kurts friend –not now; two, he has to lie to the one he loves the most yet again –Kurt knows nothing. The Facility was started after the senior members of New Directions had already left. With the exception of Finn, who was working as Mr. Schues sort-of assistant back then, nobody outside of the current Glee Club and some select Cheerios knows of its existence.
I am about to save the world and die trying, Blaine wants to say. He hates lying to Kurt, but even in his mind, that complex sentence sounds wrong. Im about to die trying to save the world, perhaps? There are a hundred different ways to say it. None of them make sense to Blaine. None of them could ever convey what he wants to say to Kurt. In the end, he settles for the most vague, yet least helpful. "Im leaving." There. Easy as pie.
"Leaving?" Kurt echoes him. "In the middle of the school year? Where to? Whats going on, Blaine? Why do you have to leave?"
There is that temptation to just come clean to Kurt, Blaine decides. After all, he wouldnt even be there to deal with its consequences anyway. It is a selfish move on his part, to unload on his beloved. But Blaine knows that he just could not subject Kurt to that kind of burden. Kurt deserves better. Kurt does not deserve to worry about or get hurt by things that Blaine manages to get himself caught up in. Kurts technically no longer his, Blaine reminds himself. And even if Kurt was…
"Emergency –out of state." Blaine settles yet again for obscurity. It wasnt even strictly a lie. ON the other end of the line, he hears Kurt sigh. "Blaine –"
"Kurt," Blaine cuts him off, knowing exactly what Kurt was about to say. Time is ticking away like a beat-up, broken metronome and Blaine still has to get everything off his chest before he faces his destiny. "Kurt –I want you to know that –I will be thinking of you." He lets it out. "Wherever Im going, Ill be thinking of you." Blaine is doing an admirable job of keeping his voice light, but the tears forming in his hazel eyes were starting to make it a chore. He has to cut the conversation soon before his sanity slips away completely. "I know –I know Im not in the position to say this now, but I hope you know that –that my heart belongs to you. My heart, my soul, is yours to keep. Come what may, Kurt." There might have been a number of pauses within those words that Blaine has had to take to get him through. It tires him. It stuns Kurt into silence.
"B-Blaine, what is going on?" Kurt gasps when he is finally out of his stupor. His melodious voice trembles with both curiosity and concern. "Why –why are you –are you okay? Is everything okay Are you drunk or something? Why are you telling me this all now? If its a joke, its not funny. What is going on? Tell me!" Kurts voice rose with every question. Blaine senses the frustration and fright in that tone. He bites his lips guiltily.
"Everything is –it will be okay, Kurt. Its just me being a sap." Blaine attempts to pacify the situation. Its lame, in his own opinion, but it has to do. He will not have Kurt worry for him needlessly. "By the way, have you heard about that meteor shower tonight?"
"Y-yeah –" Kurt scowls at the abrupt change of topic. Blaine is hiding something from him. Kurt knows it, but he decides to let it slide for now against his common sense. Hed rather not argue with the man he still loved (but stubbornly denies doing so). They have just gotten back on cordial, speaking terms post Valentines, and he would not mess that up. He himself had asked for space, and it is only rightful that he gives Blaine the same courtesy. Beyond ex-lovers, they were friends. Blaine would tell him whatever when he is ready, Kurt reckons. As much as he wants to pry, he wont. "At eight, central? I heard rumors about toxic emissions."
Blaine lets out an undignified snort. "Not true. Listen, since we cant be with each other while it happens –will you watch it? We can pretend were watching it together from your spot there. I mean, Ill be in another part of the world, but Ive always wanted to watch a meteor shower with you –its supposed to bring good luck, and it rarely happens. But if youd rather not, I totally understand if you think its dorky –"
"I will be happy to." Kurt smiles as Blaine babbles on. He imagines the flustered look on those puppy dog eyes, and it is enough to make Kurt forget all that is wrong in the world. "Ill even set up a picnic blanket on the rooftop. But if I pick up anything from the radiation –its on your hide. Get it, Anderson?"
Blaine lets himself laugh. It cant hurt to laugh a little. "Just lather on mosquito repellant and youll be fine." Blaine almost sees Kurt roll his eyes to that.
"Ugh, that stuff stinks! You have to call me as it happens though," Came the playfully bitchy demand. "Just to make sure that were both suffering for the love of Science and its undeniable connection to romance."
And from his heaven high, Blaine comes crashing back down to earth with that one statement. He badly wants to tell Kurt that he cant –why he cant be there for him, why he can no longer be there for him after this phone call –but he holds firm.
"You can ask Adam to watch it with you, you know? Itll be a romantic date." Blaine deflects, doing his heart more damage that way than just accepting the harsh blow of reality. Because really, is this all that he was reduced to doing now? Pushing Kurt off to other people to reduce the guilt threatening to eat him up alive? "He can keep you company for a few hours." For forever, because I will no longer be there. Adam is a nice guy, Blaine acknowledges that. He also knows -knows that Kurt will find happiness he deserves in the British –but in no way does that soften the blow to Blaines guts. Adam will be there for Kurt when he cant and its just not fair.
"Hes not a night person," Kurt frowns. Something was really wrong now. Blaine never voluntarily talks about Kurts sort-of current boyfriend, much more, suggest date night for them. "Why cant you spare me a few minutes for later tonight?" He almost whines, but doesnt. Adam is no Blaine. Even Kurts self-righteous pride and hurt ego cannot deny that. Adam is –just a phase, he realizes. Blaine is his forever and always. Now, he just has to knock some of that proverbial sense into his thick skull. "Too busy?"
Ouch. Direct hit. Blaine tries hard not to give in to the small voice in his head. Kurt does not deserve to get hurt,he whispers repeatedly to himself like a mantra.
"Ill be up in the air, Kurt," Blaine injects just the right amount of annoyance in his voice. "I doubt my phone would work up there." He then thanks his ability to feign nonchalance at a time like this, but still, he can feel that mask slipping away quickly. This call has to end soon. "Listen, just watch it, okay? And remember Ill be thinking of you. That beautiful vision of lights in the sky will bridge my hand to yours. And know that if I could, I would make all the stars fall down to rain at your feet –" I would make asteroids explode every day just to keep you safe.
"Waxing poetical now, Anderson?" Kurt manages to let go of that banter, even if deep within him, red signal lights were going off. Blaine will tell me whats wrong in his own time. I just have to be patient… Blaine chuckles, but does not contradict him.
"Hey, listen. Um, I need to go, like right now. Mr. Schue needs me." The world needs me. "And Coach Sue has some errands for me before I catch my flight."I have to check fuel levels and the missiles themselves.
"Promise to call me when you land then," Kurt demand firmly. "I doubt that you wont have cellular service where youre going, so you have no excuse. And even if you dont, you can always email me."
Blaine desperately wants to say yes. He wants to tell Kurt that yes, he will be there to call him after tackling his daunting, herculean task. But he knows that it is a promise that he has to break, and after his misstep with Eli, hed already sworn to never break another promise to Kurt again.
"Ill try my hardest not to forget." It is a promise that he could definitely keep. He only hopes that it is enough. And for the nth time in that conversation, Blaine manages to skirt around the topic at hand. Maybe his father was right for once; hed make a good lawyer or politician someday. If that someday still existed after today.
"Fine," Kurt huffs. "You owe me a lot when we next see each other." Blaine smiles for the last time. Kurt is still as fiery as ever. Kurt is his fire, his courage, his dream. Blaine may be tasked to save the world, but if he were to be completely honest with himself, he really is only doing this for one person, and one person alone. He knows it is a selfish thought, but in reality, he couldnt care any less what happens to the rest as long as his Kurt was happy, as long as his Kurt was safe. Because yes, Kurt may not acknowledge it, but he was and forever will be Blaines. Nothing else matters to Blaine anymore –he comes to that conclusion in under five minutes. Because if tomorrow never comes for him, which was most likely to happen now, it will still come for Kurt. And as long as Kurt is there, nothing will ever scare or hurt Blaine anymore.
"Until then," Blaine acknowledges with an air of finality that makes Kurts heart start beating wildly. But before the ocean-eyed boy could even formulate a biting retort, Blaine says something else that makes Kurts heart stop altogether.
"I love you, Kurt. Always." And the line clicks. And Kurt is left gaspingly, haltingly whispering his response to the beeping dial tone as an inexplicable wave of sorrow drowns him from out of nowhere.
"I love you too, Blaine. Forever."
On the other end of the line, Blaine begins to suit up. With a final look at his phones screen saver, he exits his quarters.
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Facility, Launch Pad -18:00 hrs (CST)
Blaine is about to enter the cockpit when a hand halts his progress. It is Artie. "Artie, whats up?" Blaine cocks an eyebrow. Artie lets out a deep sigh.
"Nothing I say can ever make it easier." The four-eyed boy begins, sounding rather uncomfortable. "I wont even try. Just –just that if I wasnt in my chair, Id be co-piloting with you." That makes Blaine smile genuinely.
"I know, Artie. Thank you." Blaine grabs his helmet and turns to get inside the craft before things could get awkward. Artie however, had other plans.
"Does Kurt know?" Three words. They were enough to stop Blaine in his tracks.
"Enough." Guilt creeps up his chest. Artie senses this.
"Id be honored to relay a message." Artie holds up a video camera in one hand. "From a hero to his soul mate –we have five minutes. I told Joe to delay the countdown for launch before I came here. Figured you might want to do this."
Blaine eyes the camcorder in Arties hand with a hint of trepidation. After a beat however, he smiles yet again.
"Just make sure hes not alone when he sees it." Artie nods in understanding. Blaine sets his helmet down and the REC button is pressed.
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Bushwick, New York – 19:30 hrs (CST)
Kurt goes to the rooftop, carrying a red and blue checked blanket, his phone, and a thermos of citrus tea –an influence of Rachels which began when she had started to develop morning sickness. She urged Kurt to start drinking it whenever he got an upset stomach, which was rather often lately. He chalks it up to an overenthusiastic stomach flu. Rachel is currently out with Finn looking up baby things and Santana was visiting relatives. Going against Blaines suggestion, he decides to make a night out of meteor shower-watching alone. He does not call Adam. And not that he is aware of it at that moment, but he will never call the British again from that day forward –but that is getting off topic. Kurt huddles in a cozy spot next to the stairwell. The sky is inky black, dotted with but a few stars. It is hard to imagine that in about half an hour, the calm night sky will be bombarded by shooting rays of light.
The hour is silent, completely unlikely for New York, Kurt thinks. Will most of them be anticipating the meteor shower too? For a moment, he wonders where exactly Blaine is –will he have a nice view of the shower?
Ever since Kurt put his phone down a couple of hours ago, his thoughts never strayed away from the hazel-eyed boy. Surely, Blaine acted weirder than normal and all those episode before were sporadic enough not to cause alarm. But a while ago – there was something in Blaines tone, in his choice of words that would not stop nagging Kurt. But what is it? Kurt wraps the thick blanket around him and briefly lets himself fantasize that it is Blaines arms enveloping him –the younger man had used it the last time he visited (although that memory left a few undesirable things in Kurts mind). Somehow, it still vaguely smells like coffee and cinnamon, something citrus and aftershave – a scent that was all Blaine. Kurt burrows his nose in the soft fabric and inhales deeply. For a while, he is sucked into a world of his own that consisted of nothing but his fantasies. In that make-shift cocoon on a New York rooftop, he becomes lost –detached –from the world that revolved around him.
A blaring ringtone disrupts his safe haven. Kurt glances at his phone: 9:39 p.m. Less than half an hour before the meteor shower begins. He absently swipes at the screen to answer the call.
"Hello, Artie?"
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Cockpit, Vanguard VIII, Ten Minutes before Tubbington Asteroid breaches the Earths Exosphere
"SP Anderson, reporting to Lima Command. Ten minutes til show time. Over." Blaine makes his regular update every ten minutes since his craft reached the earths exosphere about half an hour ago. He was 200 miles from the outermost layer and from that spot, he has a clear vision of the massive boulder. Ten minutes. In ten minutes, Tubbington Asteroid would hopefully be nothing but rocks and pebbles hurling towards the earth. Blaine swallows hard, briefly wondering if he would be part of the debris that was supposed to land into the Pacific.
"Chief Sylvester here, Anderson. Copy that. Youre doing great. Next update in 5 minutes. Over."
"Roger that, Coach. Ill brief you on the status in 5. Over and out." Blaine momentarily shuts off his end of the connection. This is it. In less than 10 minutes, it all ends. He closes his eyes/ he is one of those people who constantly wonders how death would feel like –will it hurt? Will it last forever? Will he even be aware of it? He shakes his head inwardly and tries to think of something else that does not make him want to throw up. The images in his head settle on eyes as blue as the ocean… And suddenly, Blaine is lulled back to a peaceful calm.
Kurt.
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Bushwick, New York -19:45 hrs (CST)
Kurt drags his laptop all the way to the rooftop. For some reason, Artie has a video email for him that he just had to see immediately. Kurt scowls at the four-eyed boys insistence, saying that it can wait until the morning. But when Artie not-so casually drops Blaines name and the words urgent and important, it is more than enough to sell the idea of watching the video that night to Kurt.
Arties conditions for sending Kurt the all-important video were clear: He cant be alone when he sees it, and he cant be alone when he sees it. Kurt reluctantly calls Finn and Rachel as they were the closest he could get in the soonest possible time, and Gaga be damned if Kurt does not get to see that video ASAP. When Rachel and Finn arrive, Kurt explains Arties cryptic demands. And for once, to Kurts surprise, Finn looks like as if he knew about what was going on. The freakishly tall teen excuses himself and calls Artie. They speak in hushed tones. Kurts curiosity is piqued even further –much more so, when Finn pulls Rachel aside and somehow convinces the diminutive diva to head back to their loft downstairs. However, it was not before she throws Kurt a concerned look. After she leaves, Kurt rounds on Finn.
"Okay, Ive had enough. What in the world is going on here?" Kurts voice is its usual bitchy tone, but at the same time, it is laced with dread and anxiety. Finn looks properly terrified and apprehensive as he reaches for Kurts laptop. Arties email was already there, but he ignores it. Instead, he rapidly clicks on a few links before a secure webpage pulls up. Kurt is cumulatively impressed and shocked. The header reads: THE FACILITY –Secure Connection. He turns to Finn, his mouth agape. Finn takes a deep breath before launching into the seemingly longest and most difficult explanation in the history of human race.
"Kurt, Blaine is –an astronaut."
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Cockpit, Vanguard VIII, Five Minutes before Tubbington Asteroid breaches the Earths Exosphere
"SP Anderson, making final report to Lima Command. Five minutes til double missile launch. I repeat, 5 minutes til double missile launch. Over."
"Chief Sylvester here, Anderson. Copy that. All systems go. Radio communications will be cut at this point to prevent any interference, but know that the worlds prayers are with you. We –we are proud of you, young Burt Reynolds. Go get them. Over."
"Roger that, Coach. One last thing though. Id appreciate it if you do something to clear up my parents credits. Over."
"Consider it done, Anderson. Over."
"Thanks, Coach. Have a good evening Lima, and to the rest of the world, enjoy the fireworks. SP Anderson signing off. Over and out."
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Bushwick, New York -19:55 hrs (CST)
Kurts knees buckle underneath him. Finn looks torn between wanting to take shelter from the inevitable outburst to come from the blue-green-eyed boy, and wanting to comfort the said boy.
"You –you –he –" Kurt is at a loss for words. Thats –thats –I mean –" His incoherent babbling is interrupted by an alarm. The screen on his phone announces:FIVE MINUTES TIL METEOR SHOWER :). Kurt grips his phone tightly before hurling it against the nearest wall. The pieces of the convenient technology shatters into pieces and Kurt cannot help but think that it perfectly mirrors the sate of his heart, his soul, his everything. Saline blurs his vision as he slumps against Finns rigid body.
Why? Why, Blaine? Why?
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Cockpit, Vanguard VIII, Fifty Seconds before Tubbington Asteroid breaches the Earths Exosphere
Blaines right thumb hovers right next to a cliché-esque big red button. He has seen enough cartoons in his youth to know that nothing good ever happens when you push it. Still, Blaine is about to do it. He closes his eyes one last time.
"Hi, Im new here…" 50, 49, 48…
"I know a short-cut…" 47, 46, 45…
"Why did you choose to sing this song with me?" 44, 43, 42…
"You move me, Kurt… There is one point in your life when you say to yourself, Oh, there you are. Ive been looking for you forever…" 41, 40, 39, 38…
"I love you, Blaine." 37, 36, 35…
"I love you too, Kurt." 34, 33, 32, 31…
"Ill never say goodbye to you." 30, 29, 28, 27, 26…
"I promise to always pick up the phone to answer your call, to always defend you even if I know youre wrong… to remind you how perfectly imperfect you are…" 25, 24, 23, 22, 21…
"Come what may," 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15…
"Until my dying day… No, until the end of time." 14, 13, 12, 11, 10…
"Kurt… Im sorry." 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…
"Kurt, thank you." 4…
"Kurt, I love you." 3…
"Forever." 2…
"Always." 1…
Blaine releases one last breath and pushes the trigger button. In a split-second, those back at Earth will get treated to a spectacular display of exploding lights and shooting stars.
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McKinley High Gym a.k.a. Lima Command -20:01 hrs (CST)
Dead silence permeates the concealed space. The mission is a success, but no one seems to be in the mood to celebrate. Chief Sylvester is first to leave the room. No one sees her again after that. Will Schuster grabs Emma Pillsburys hand and leaves with her. Shannon Bieste follows suit, as do the rest of the kids, one by one. Soon, the room is empty. Tomorrow, it will all just be nightmare.
Another day.
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Bushwick, New York – the following day, 05:30 hrs (CST)
Finn answers the door to Kurts and Rachels loft as the two were still asleep. Rachel was out due to her meds. Kurt on the other hand, was another story. Finn held his stepbrother all through the night as the younger boy wept and threw up intermittently. The moment the meteor shower began, it was as if the floodgate to Kurts anguish and despair were suddenly open. Finn has never seen anyone look so broken in his entire life. So as soon as Kurt passes out from crying, Finn makes the call.
A grim-faced Burt Hummel is on the other side of the door. The two men exchange wordless nods before the older one strides purposefully into the loft. Finn follows him by sight. He does not envy Burts appointed task. Not at all.
"He had just fallen asleep at around 4," Finn supplies helpfully. "Hasnt stopped crying since around 10 last night." Burt pauses on his was to his sons room.
"Thank you." The Ohio Congressman acknowledges the input, but says nothing else. Finn speaks up again.
"Im sorry, Burt –"
"Not your fault, kid." Burt looks at Finn directly. "Not your fault."
"Theres a video –" Finn begins again. Burt frowns. "Blaine?" Finn nods. Burt sighs resignedly.
"I think it will be better if I take Kurt with me to DC for a while. Will you hold on to his things –until he asks for them?" Finn nods again. He knows that his stepfather is speaking particularly about certain things –things that remind Kurt of Blaine –the still unopened and unwatched video (there certainly was no time for it anymore last night after Finns explanation) included. The rest of the morning goes by quietly for Finn. Rachel wakes up at around noon. He takes her out for lunch. When they return later that afternoon, there was nobody in the apartment anymore.
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Facility, Launch Pad, the previous day -18:05 hrs (CST)
"Hey, Kurt." Blaines smiling face takes up almost all of the screen. Arties hand shakes so badly, but it will have to do.
"I dont know when youll get to see this, but I want to let you know that I will always love you. Im sorry for leaving you like this. I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me one dat. I wish nothing but happiness for you. You deserve it, Kurt. And dont you dare cry for me, okay? Im not worth getting premature wrinkles over for. But you –you are worth everything in this whole wide universe. I hope –I hope Adam sees that. If not, then get rid of him and find someone else whos worthy of your fabulousness."
Blaine feels his eyes start to water. He motions for Artie to cut the video. The other man pauses the recording. "All done?"
Blaine nods. "Thanks Artie." Without further ado, he slips his helmet on and boards his craft, Vanguard VIII. Ten minutes later, he takes off, concluding his last day on earth…
~The video would not be watched until a little over a year later, with a teary-eyed Kurt Hummel clutching his fathers hand for dear life, and his own arms, wrapped around a tiny, curly-haired, ocean-eyed boy.
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