Chapter 18: The Invitation

Burt was still up when Kurt arrived back at the apartment, even though it was already past one.

‘What kept you so long?,’ he asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling Kurt was angry with him.

‘Blaine transitioned, and then he came back and we talked. He needed me, Dad,’ Kurt said, deciding it was better to keep to the undiluted truth.

‘Transitioned as in- he wasn't himself?’

‘Something like that.’

Kurt started heading towards his side of the apartment, but his father stopped him midway.

‘Kurt, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I can see the way you are with him. The way you two are around each other.’ Burt sighed deeply. ‘I'm just not thrilled you fell for someone who won't make your life any easier.’

‘I love him, Dad,’ Kurt said quietly. ‘If there's one person in the world that doesn't want him to be sick anymore, it's me. But I'm not going to turn my back on him just because he has this thing.’

‘I know, kiddo. I worry, that's all.’

Nodding in acknowledgement, Kurt resumed walking towards his bed. He really needed to sleep after the evening he'd had. Before drawing the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the apartment, he turned around to bid his father goodnight.

‘'Night, kiddo,’ Burt replied. ‘And you know, I really liked that guy.’

The corners of Kurt's lips tugged up infinitesimally.

‘I'm glad you did.’

***

Burt was leaving late the next morning. Despite his father's protests, Kurt insisted on seeing him off to the Grand Central for his train back to Ohio and called the office he wouldn't be in before lunch.

‘You don't have to skip work just to put me on a train, kiddo, I'm not senile yet,’ Burt grumbled, even though he was glad to spend a couple more hours with his son.

‘They'll manage without me, I don't have anything urgent to do anyway,’ Kurt said, dragging his father's suitcase after him into the crowded hall of the station.

The Ohio-bound train was already up on the big electronic board, so Kurt handed the bag back to his dad, before giving him a long hug.

‘Look after yourself, Dad, okay? And let Carole do that, too.’

‘I know, I know, no red meat, rabbit stuff, you don't have to remind me,' Burt said with a warm smile.

‘Okay. So I guess I'll see you on Thanksgiving?,’ Kurt asked.

‘Sure, kid. You and Blaine are both invited.’ Burt stopped for a moment, frowning. ‘Unless he's going to see his family or something.’

‘I don't think that's going to happen,’ Kurt replied with a flash of sadness crossing his face.

‘It's so bad with his folks he won't even go see them on Thanksgiving?,’ Burt asked as subtly as he could.

‘There's only his father left, and their relationship is- Well, from what I gather, it's nothing like ours,’ Kurt explained sadly. ‘But I'm sure Blaine will be happy to come to Lima with me.’

‘Carole will want to meet the kid, so better convince him to come.’

Burt's train was announced on the speakers, urging the passengers to take their seats.

‘I'll convince him. Call me when you're home, okay?,’ Kurt said.

‘Sure, kiddo. Love you.’

‘I love you, too.’

***

The evening Kurt and Blaine were spending quietly, snuggling on the couch and taking advantage of the peace that came from Rachel having another if her sold-out shows. Peace was also welcome after the events of the previous night. Blaine still had his doubts whether his staying with Kurt was fair and right by his boyfriend, but he decided that as long as Kurt wanted him around, he wouldn't try to run away again. And if the way Kurt held him was any indication, he really did want him around.

‘My Dad invited us over for Thanksgiving,’ Kurt said, breaking a spell of silence.

Blaine's body stiffened against him, raising his alarm.

‘Thanksgiving?,’ Blaine asked with his throat clenched.

‘Blaine, calm down, okay?,’ Kurt said, locking his eyes on his boyfriend's. ‘We don't have to go, if that would make you uncomfortable.’

For a moment, Blaine couldn't respond in any other way than by shaking his head.

‘I- I'd love to go, but- I- I'm not sure I can handle it.’

‘Why? The rest of my family will love you, too, you'll see,’ Kurt assured him.

‘It's not about your family, it's about mine,’ Blaine interrupted him a little too abruptly.

Kurt was taken aback by his boyfriend's sudden outburst, but made an effort to remain calm and gentle.

‘I thought you had only your father left and that you were estranged,' he said.

Blaine nodded sharply.

‘Because that's true. I meant-‘ He gulped for air desperately, as if he was drowning. ‘I meant the- the crash- it happened on Thanksgiving, 1998.’

‘Oh.’ Kurt searched his mind for something to say. ‘So, if you don't want to go to Ohio, we'll stay in New York and we'll have our own little Thanksgiving dinner and our own turkey. I make one hell of a cranberry sauce anyway, we don’t have to go-‘

He forced himself to be enthusiastic, even though he'd already started imagining introducing Blaine to his step-mother and brother, walking around Lima and pointing out places like his high school or his friends’ houses. It was a bit of a disappointment, but he couldn't let Blaine know that and make him feel guilty, since ultimately it wasn't his fault.

‘I really want to go,’ Blaine insisted. ‘It just might be too much. I haven’t even been home since my Grandma’s been gone, and- The memories are just- Sometimes it’s too much.’

‘Hey, listen,’ Kurt interjected. ‘We don’t have to decide now, okay? We still have some time to buy plane tickets and let them know we're coming. You can think about it and figure out, whether you think it would be alright or not.’

Blaine attempted a smile and nodded.

‘Maybe if I get used to the thought it'll stop freaking me out,’ he said.

‘Just remember that if we go, I'll be there with you, I'll be there for you, every second you need me.’ Kurt gave him an encouraging smile. ‘I'll hold your hand, I'll hold you if you need it, and if any of the others appear, I'll be there for them, too.’

‘Thank you,’ Blaine whispered in reply. ‘Can I ask you to do one more thing for me, if we do go?’

‘Anything.’

Blaine swallowed, the words he was about to say put together in one sentence could never cease to terrify him.

‘I want to go to my Mom and Cooper’s graves.’

‘Okay,’ Kurt said simply. ‘Whatever you need.’

‘It’s just that I haven’t been there in years, apart from Grandma’s funeral, and last time I went before that- it wasn’t me who came back home.’

‘I can handle that, Blaine,’ Kurt assured him, squeezing his hand.

Blaine let out a bitter chuckle.

‘Oh, usually you can handle Boo, but that time- Well, Grandma was always great with him, but then- From what she told me, it was a nightmare.’

‘Maybe it would be better this time,’ Kurt said quietly. ‘We don’t even have to find out. Just think about it, okay?’

‘I will.’

***

And think about it Blaine did.

He turned the idea in his head a million times, picturing all the paths his visit could go. For one, he imagined meeting the rest of Kurt’s immediate family, and them swooning over how wonderful he is and how happy he makes Kurt. But those visions were consistently followed by ones in which he transitioned into Liam and hit on Kurt’s straight brother, or into Boo, disturbing a family celebration with crying for Winnie. Obviously, he was usually able to keep it together around his boyfriend, but what if something triggered him? That would end up in a disaster after which no family in their right minds would give them their blessing.

On the other hand, as much as he’d enjoyed his last Thanksgiving with only Seb and Wes to keep him company, he longed for a family holiday. Even back when his grandmother was still alive, their Thanksgiving dinners were quiet and lovely, the absence of Caitlin and Cooper marring the celebrations. The scarce rest of the family was scattered throughout the country, with only Richard left in Columbus. But Blaine’s father would have rather done anything else than spend a civil evening with his son and mother-in-law. Visiting the Hudson-Hummels for Thanksgiving presented an opportunity for Blaine to soak up all the warmth and love he’d missed out on in the last nineteen years.

Unless, of course, his presence ended up a catalyst for disaster.

Then his thoughts reluctantly turned to the suggestion he’d made to Kurt. He’d been considering going to the place his mother and brother were buried ever since he came back from his grandmother’s funeral. Then only the gigantic amount of psychoactives and sedatives that he was on kept him going through the short visit in Ohio.

Blaine didn’t really know what he expected from going there. It couldn’t possibly have any positive effect on his mental state; if anything, it was likely the alters would start acting out. Cooper wouldn’t suddenly understand he wasn’t real, that he was just a coping mechanism Blaine’s brain had developed.

Going to their graves could only bring back the emptiness of the first months Blaine remembered. They weren’t the months right after the accident. He couldn’t remember anything until almost a year later, all the memories of the time were stored away somewhere deep in his brain, in a place that was accessible only to Boo. Or maybe he would be reminded of the few happy moments from before the crash, the limited amount of his own memories of his mother reading him stories before bedtime, of Cooper teasing him and messing up his hair. The times when it was just the three of them, without Richard’s shouting and the constant fights.

Every time Blaine went through these scenarios, he began to wonder whether it would be good to go back to those memories he usually shunned from. The knowledge there was a time when he was healthy, loved and cherished was confusing and bittersweet. Was he supposed to appreciate what he once had, or cry over what he’d lost?

And then he’d think again about Kurt, how loved and cherished he was beginning to feel now thanks to him, despite being sick, how the visit in Ohio could open up for him the possibility of having an actual family. Obviously, it wouldn’t equal the one he’d lost, it was impossible to replace Caitlin and Cooper in his heart, but that could be something.

Two days after Burt’s departure from New York, Blaine gave Kurt his answer.

Yes, they were going to Ohio for Thanksgiving.

***

From the moment Blaine told him the date of the car crash, Kurt couldn’t shake the feeling there was a significance to Thanksgiving 1998 that he failed to recognise. He went through his memories of all of his Thanksgivings as a child, but the late 90s were still vague. All he remembered was that his mother was still alive, constantly surrounding him with love and light.

Finally, the thought of his mother, her bright smile at him from the passenger seat of their old station wagon turning into an expression of concern and sadness. He remembered the dark cloudy day and rain streaming down the car windows. He’s been watching the droplets race down the glass most of the way from Lima, until his mother turned to tell him they were almost there. And then they saw the car wreck on the roadside, tangled like thin copper wires almost all the way around a tree. His mom told him not to look, but he snuck a peek anyway, while his father ran out of the car to get help.

Burt was gone a long time, until well after the ambulances arrived. And when he came back, he looked nothing like the man who’d left. Until Elizabeth’s death, that was the worst shape Kurt had seen his father in.

Nobody spoke a word later that day in the car. Burt only regained his voice when they reached his cousin’s house, where the dinner was hosted that year.

‘We got held up, ‘cause there was this accident,’ he said plainly on arriving. ‘I called 911 and all, but two of them... The little boy and his father lived, though, thank God.’

That piece of memory, buried deep within Kurt’s mind with the rest of unnecessary details, made him freeze. What were the odds, after all? There were countless accidents taking place daily, thousands of little boys surviving them and losing their mothers. He wasn’t even sure it really was that year.

But everything fit. Four people; two dead at the scene, the father and his little son surviving. Thanksgiving, late 90s. The outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. The car hit a tree. Totalled. Everything fit.

As soon as the fist shock wore off, Kurt grabbed his phone and dialled Burt’s number.

‘Dad?,’ he said without a proper greeting.

‘Hey, kiddo, what’s up?’

‘Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something.’

‘Sure, shoot,’ Burt replied, slightly concerned by the sound of his son’s voice.

‘Do you remember Thanksgiving 1998?’

Silence fell on the other end of the line, but Kurt wasn’t certain it was because his father was trying to recall the day, or because he remembered it all too well.

‘I do,’ he responded warily after a moment. ‘Why are you asking?’

Kurt swallowed, trying not to break down at having his wild theory basically confirmed.

‘Dad, there was a boy in the car that crashed, right? You got him out.’

‘I did, Kurt, but what does it matter now? It was almost twenty years ago.’

‘That boy- Dad, I think that boy was Blaine.’