Chapter 3

Despite everybody’s growing excitement for nationals in New York, somehow they all found it in them to be unbelievably quiet when they learnt of Coach Sylvester’s sister’s passing. None of them had ever met Jean, but for those few days between the news reaching them and the hastily organized funeral, they felt like the world really became a little emptier. None of them questioned the idea of taking care of the ceremony for Sue. Attending another funeral within short four months got to everyone, it didn’t matter they weren’t really close to either of the people that were being buried.

Everything Sue had done to bring the Glee club down was insignificant then as well. Kurt felt for the first time in his life that he might actually understand Coach Sylvester and all her actions, her apparent coldness.

At the funeral, all of the friends were huddled together in two long pews. A few people shed a tear here and there. Puck dabbed at his eyes hurriedly, so that no one would see how the occasion got to him. The girls weren’t trying to be as inconspicuous, and Santana pull an arm around Brittany, who rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, her eyes red and puffy.

Kurt didn’t care if anyone saw his tears, they were already beyond used to seeing him cry. Blaine held his own tears back for as long as he could, but once they started falling, he didn’t really care either. Having Kurt beside him helped, though, warming up his heart and almost making him smile through the streams running down his face.

When Mr Schue was halfway through reading the eulogy for Sue after her voice broke, Kurt’s frame shook a little with a silent sob, and Blaine placed a hand over his friend’s.

Kurt flinched at the touch, surprised, but he relaxed momentarily, seeing it was just Blaine offering him comfort. He lifted the corners of his lips by a fraction.

Sadness isn’t that scary when you don’t face it alone.

***

Kurt was still quiet and pensive as they exited the chapel after Jean’s service. Blaine’s hand felt empty and itched to grab Kurt’s one more time. To run his fingers soothingly, comfortingly against the back of Kurt’s warm, silky hand. He didn’t, though, only clenching his fists and burying them deeper into his pockets, trying to fight the urge off.

They reached Blaine’s car and got in without speaking a word.

Blaine stuck the key in the ignition, not proceeding to start the engine. There was something bothering Kurt, and he thought it might be wise to let it rest here, move forward from the sadness at least symbolically through the funeral.

Kurt caught up to Blaine’s line of thinking as soon as he felt his friend’s expectant gaze on him, and stared back, querying.

‘It made you think about your mom, didn’t it?,’ Blaine asked gently.

Looking away, Kurt swallowed and nodded. Karofsky’s funeral hadn’t awoken any of the feelings that were now crowding his chest. That was different. Despite everything, Dave was never the kind of gentle, innocent creature that Elizabeth Hummel and Jean Sylvester certainly could be counted among. And there was no one to give a eulogy like Sue’s at Karofsky’s funeral.

‘You felt like that about her? Like there was this tether that- got severed?’ Blaine’s voice was soft and not insistent, so Kurt knew he didn’t really have to answer.

He did anyway. Blaine always got his answers.

‘I did.’ Kurt took a long breath, turning his head back to his best friend and his loving, worried eyes. ‘You know, for so long I felt there was this empty space in my life, like someone ripped a chunk of me and just tossed it. Like there would never be anybody else as in sync with me, as thoroughly getting me as her, you know?’

Blaine gave him a nod, slight confusion making his thoughts drift away back to the beginning of what Kurt was saying.

‘And now?,’ he asked, his throat clenching.

Kurt’s face brightened by a fraction, a shadow of smile creeping in, followed by a tinge of red.

‘Now it’s like there is a tether that links me with you,’ he said. It felt like he was confessing being in love with Blaine, but his friend didn’t seem to pick up on it.

Blaine was so overwhelmed at first that his face stayed frozen in an expression of fearful anticipation for another moment. Yet, once the words sunk in, Kurt saw the brightest, happiest, most unrestrained smile Blaine ever gave him. Or anybody else.

Giving it no thought whatsoever, he pulled Kurt into a bear hug, crashing their bodies together with full force. Kurt gasped at the impact, but he couldn’t stop a wide grin his lips spread into.

‘I feel like that with you, too,’ Blaine said somewhere near Kurt’s left ear. Just please, don’t freak out, if I ever tell you I’m in love with you, he added in his mind, holding Kurt tighter and making him slide further sideways in his seat and bump his thigh into the gear stick.

‘Ouch,’ Kurt mumbled, reluctantly edging out of the embrace. ‘Someday your car’s going to kill me.’

‘No, it’s not, that won’t even bruise,’ Blaine laughed.

Kurt scowled at him, his glare saying very loudly don’t-you-dare-you-know-I’m-right.

‘Who even drives stick anymore, anyway?,’ he said, buckling his seat belt as Blaine finally turned the engine on.

‘I do. And, may I remind you, you can drive stick, too, so shut it.’

Kurt took Blaine’s advice and pursed his lips. Refraining from talking was a tough task, though, and before they were out of the parking lot, he forfeited.

‘I only can drive stick, because I have a mechanic for a father and “you never know when you’re gonna need it, Kurt”,’ he said, giving a perfect impression of his dad.

‘He’s right,’ Blaine agreed. He bit his lip, before continuing with a line that was a little risky, dancing somewhere on the border between friendly teasing and outward flirting. ‘And you know, there’s nothing hotter than a guy in a vintage car.’

Kurt blinked, surprised. Blaine wasn’t much of a flirt, not because of lack of skill or charm – of course – but rather due to a lack of an object. But, admittedly, this was a really nice surprise, especially after the depressing day they’d had, so Kurt decided to play along.

‘There is. A guy in a vintage car who can drive stick,’ he said, a little embarrassed by the sexual innuendo.

Blaine’s grinned broadly and brightly.

‘So now you know my secret.’ Well, not really, but I hope you will someday. Soon, he added to himself.

Somehow, the funeral and everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them in that ridiculous old car, the tether that linked them no more than an inch long.