Chapter Four

Before Kurt left for New York, he made easy, well-intentioned promises to stay in touch with Blaine.  But he had a busy new life, and those promises became harder and harder to keep. He had an internship with a kind and interested mentor at his favorite magazine, surrounded by high-fashion glitz and celebrity glamor.  He enjoyed rooming with his friends, which at its best felt  like a sleepover party every night.  And he took plenty of opportunities to explore the nightlife in the greatest city in the world, unfettered by adults and their well-meaning speeches.   

And then, his greatest triumph of all:  overcoming Carmen Thibideaux's reservations about him and making it into NYADA, where he found new friends, new dreams, and the most gifted and challenging classmates and teachers he'd ever had.  

Not everything was a fantasy come true, of course.  He got homesick sometimes, and missed being able to see his father on a daily basis.  And even though the loft was great, it was also full to bursting with roommates both expected and unexpected..  

Rachel, heartsick and lonely after not hearing from Finn since he left to join the army, took solace in the arms of an overwaxed and overweening NYADA junior named Brody Weston.  Kurt hadn't minded handsome, eager-to-please Brody at first, at least not when he'd had his own apartment in Manhattan.  But Rachel had impulsively invited Brody to move in with them after only a few weeks of dating. Brody had cheerfully taken her up on it, moving himself lock, stock and Bowflex into the loft.

Kurt was not a morning person, and it was a challenge to endure Brodys inane opinions and penchant for casual nudity at the breakfast table every day. But before Kurt even had a chance to adjust to Brody, another roommate had descended upon them:  Santana Lopez, teller of unwanted and unvarnished truths,  or at least the truth as she saw it.  Santana was predictably unpredictable in all that she did or said, and living with her was not entirely peaceful, to say the least.

But then ... then he met Adam.

Adam Crawford, who was four years older, and British, and who sang him a hilariously inappropriate song by way of self-introduction, backed by his self-named show choir "Adams Apples”. They had been dating for several weeks now.  Adam was perfectly pleasant, and very nice to look at in his hipster attire and beanies.  He was fun to hang out with, and he made Kurt laugh with his hilarious impressions of British television shows and movies.  Kurt had a vague sense that something wasn't quite … soulmate-ish about Adam, and that possibly what attracted him most was that Adam was so very attracted to him.  There might be a true love waiting for Kurt  out there, one that would make his heart race and his soul sing a little more.   But sweet, uncomplicated Adam would do very nicely as Kurt's Mr. Right-For-Now.   And there was no time to think overmuch on these theories when Kurt had a fabulous New York life to live.

***

.  

Rachel slipped into her seat next to Kurt at the breakfast table, as a buff, shiny-smooth Brody did  push-ups in the nude nearby and Santana sneaked Kurt's organic frozen waffles out of the toaster and began to eat them dry over the sink.  “Show choir Nationals is in New York this year,” Rachel informed Kurt. “This Friday night.The Warblers are competing,  and my dads are going see it, and then come to my Mid-Spring Freshman Assessment Performance on Monday.”

Kurt frowned, looking up from his copy of Variety.  Blaine hadnt mentioned anything about that. In fact, it had been a few weeks since hed heard from Blaine at all, now that he thought about it.

Santana spun around, spraying waffle crumbs on the floor. “Oh hells, no, Berry.  There's no more room in this apartment for your lawn gnome of a brother or the rest of your family, especially on such short notice."  She shoved the last third of a waffle in her mouth and continued her rant while chewing it. “I already can't move without tripping over your boyfriend's abs or Princess Hummel's beauty kit, or his boyfriend's beanies, or your - -“

“Enough, Santana.  The Berrys are family, and of course we'll find room for them,” Kurt cut her off.  "And buy your own waffles, will you? Those were mine."

Next to Kurt, Rachel shook her head. “Its okay, Kurt.  My dads are staying in a hotel in Manhattan. It'll be like a second honeymoon for them.  Of course, they'll come for dinner one night, but there's no need for them to stay here.”

“So just Blaine, then?” Kurt asked.  He broke off two more waffles from the package and put them in the toaster.  “We can hang another curtain up, I suppose, or put him on the couch –“

“No, he said he was going to stay at the hotel with his team.”

Kurt looked curiously at Rachel.  She seemed a bit tense. "Well, thatll be okay until the competition's over - - won't the Warblers go home after that?  Wherell he stay then?” he persisted.

“I guess he'll get a room in the hotel where my dads are staying.”

The waffles popped up in the toaster and before Kurt could react, Brody had them on a plate.  Brody leaned his bare buttocks against the counter while wolfing down Kurts breakfast.  Kurt scowled at him and shoved past to get the box of waffles again.  He extracted the last two and stuck them in the toaster, this time standing guard.

“That doesn't sound like much fun.  So what if it's a little crowded here?  It's only one weekend.  I'd really like to see him and catch up -- maybe even take him out to dinner and a real Broadway play.  I think he'd like that.”

Rachel set down her juice. “Kurt... No.  Just … no.  It's not a good idea."

"What does that mean? Why not?"

"Look. I know what happened with you and Blaine right before you left Ohio. I think hes over it; hes finally stopped asking about you during our chats. But  I think it's best if you don't spend any more time alone with him than necessary.  He's a very romantic and impressionable person, very easily influenced and hurt," Rachel sighed.  “It runs in the family.”

Kurt stared, offended.  “Are you suggesting that … that Id hurt him? I would never - - I'm his friend, Rachel!  And yours!”

“Then I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance from my brother and let him finish getting over you.  Unless you enjoy having him hero worship you, which would be kind of mean, don't you think?”

Kurt ignored the waffles springing up in the toaster and went back to the table, sitting next to Rachel and looking in her eyes.  “I promise you.  I will never, ever encourage that child.  I'd never lead him on just to feed my ego, or whatever it is youre suggesting.  I just want him to know he still has a friend in me." He sighed.  “Even if I haven't been as good a friend as I could have lately. I'd like to make that up to him.”

Rachel considered it, and then relented.  “Okay.  I'll ask him if he'd like to sleep over here after the Warblers leave.  But I'm serious.  You need to be clear with the boundaries.  I love you, you're my platonic soul mate, but he's my baby brother.  Understand?”

Kurt nodded, crossed his heart, and Rachel jumped up, satisfied.  She grabbed the last two waffles on her way out. “Sorry – there's nothing else vegetarian in the house!” she called back over his protests.

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ ~ ~ ~

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned his head back. against the back seat of the car his dads had rented to get around New York City for the weekend. He was happy and tired.  Hed given a great performance last night, leading his Warbler brothers to a show-stopping victory.  He'd  had a great time celebrating the win with them at the hotel until early this morning, and best of all, Kurt had been there at Nationals to cheer him on alongside his family. After his victory, Kurt had given him a warm, Kurt-scented hug, and--

No, Blaine.

He had to stop before he got carried away with dumb ideas again. He had almost gotten over Kurt, or at least he almost convinced himself he had.  He had accepted that Kurt was grown up, and in college hundreds of miles away, and not interested in romance with someone still in ninth grade.

Blaine had tried to forget, like Kurt wanted. Really.  He'd gone on a few dates and even fooled around a few times with some Dalton boys, and in one unfortunate experiment, a Crawford girl.  But it hadn't felt right, hadn't gelled, because none of them had been ... Kurt.

Seriously.  He needed to block this line of thought and move on. He had to remember the humiliation of the Lima Bean Attack, especially what Kurt had said about how there could never, ever be anything between them. Sebastian and the Warblers had advised him to move on after witnessing Kurts reaction to that fiasco.  Rachel had told him the same thing when she found out.  His concerned dads had wormed it out of Rachel when he moped around the house for the first several days, and they had stressed  that he needed to try to forget about Kurt, for his own sake, as if that were something he could just decide and do.  He wished it were that simple, but he understood they all meant well.  They loved him and wanted him to be okay, especially Rachel and his dads.

He opened his eyes and looked fondly at his dads in the front seat.  They were harmonizing on his solo from the competition, in their own unique, jazzy Berry family style.  He caught Hiram's eye in the rear view mirror, and felt warmed all the way through when his dad smiled proudly at him.

“You were absolutely on point last night, Blainers.  I have no words, other than a star is born.  You'll be the next Eddie Cantor, count on it - -“

“I'd say the next Gene Kelly, Hiram,” his other dad cut in, while stopping at a traffic light.  “You've got that timeless Old Hollywood style down, and at your age!  You must have gotten that from my side of the family.”  

Hiram nodded vigorously.  He laid a hand on his husband's shoulder.  “That's true, LeRoy.  Blaine, you really are more of a Gene Kelly type, now that your dad mentions it.”

“You two wouldn't be a little biased, would you?” Blaine chuckled.  “I appreciate the support, but I don't think I'm in that league.  I think being the first Blaine Anderson-Berry is about all I can aspire to, not the next Gene Kelly.”  

Hiram turned in the seat again, pushing his glasses up on his nose and fixing Blaine with one of his intense gazes.  “That's all we ask of you, Blaine. Be true to yourself. I'm sure it'll be more than enough to make you a huge star someday.  I wholeheartedly believe in your future and your talent, and Rachel's.  More than I believe in anything.  There's nothing you two can't do if you're given the chance.”  

LeRoy added, softly, “All that's years off, though.  The important thing is last night was perfect.  You made us so proud, Blaine.  We love you.”

“I love you too, dads.  Thanks for being there last night.”

The light turned green, and LeRoy stepped on the gas pedal.   And in the next moment, Blaine's entire world exploded in a shower of splintered glass from the windshield and the sound of grinding, crushing metal, before abruptly turning black.

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ ~ ~ ~

When Blaine woke, he was in a hospital bed. His arm and head and eye hurt, and he couldn't understand how he got there or what had happened.  It hurt to turn his head toward the sound of sniffling by a too-bright window. It was Rachel.  Rachel was crying, and ... Kurt was there with her.

Blaine tried to ask them what he was doing here, but his throat was dry and rough.  At the sound of his croaking voice, Rachel turned her tear-stained face toward him ... and he knew.  He knew that expression, remembered it from when Cooper had told him about their parents even though it was another lifetime ago.  He'd never forgotten the terrible fear and pain that came with it.  

Rachel was saying words now, explaining and reassuring and he couldn't even follow what she was trying to tell him, beyond what he'd read on her face at the first moment and knew in his heart.  His wonderful fathers were dead, just like his mother and father before them.  

Vaguely he was aware that this time, it was even worse.  At five, he hadn't understood the finality.  He hadn't understood, somehow, despite the repeated explanations, that his mom and dad had stopped existing, that he would never, ever see them or hug them, never hear their voices again.  It had taken blessed months for that reality gradually to sink in. This time, the truth and what it would mean hit him all at once. The shock and the sense of complete loss, felt, at that excruciatingly painful moment, beyond his ability to survive. It was a mercy that the dizzying fog overtook him again, allowing him to fall back into the peaceful darkness of slumber.

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kurt picked a few small items, some fruit and bread, from among the vast quantity of food the well-wishers had brought to the Berrys' house for shiva.  Rachel and Blaine had refused to eat much when other friends and family had offered, but he thought maybe they would take a little something from him.  He glanced over at the pair.  They were sitting close together on the gray, mid-century-style couch beneath a draped mirror.  Blaine's arm was in a cast, but Rachel was holding his other hand. They were wearing black, each with a length of torn black ribbon the rabbi had given them at the funeral pinned to their clothes, representing the traditional rending of garments.  Their already similar faces looked more alike than ever in grief.

Thankfully, most of the visitors had gone home.  The only guests left were close family:  Hiram's elderly mother, Rachel's Grandma Berry, was seated in an armchair next to Rachel, and Cooper sprawled in the loveseat beside the couch, near Blaine.  Kurt could see how exhausted his friends were after the week-long mourning period, especially Blaine, who was still recovering from surgery on his arm and eye. He approached and set the plates down on the glass coffee table in front of them, fussing with silverware and napkins, and then moving around to Rachel's other side to take her free hand.   “Can I get you anything else?”  

“I can't eat,” she whispered.  Next to her, Blaine swayed in his seat and his black-yarmulked head drooped onto Rachel's shoulder.  His right eye was patched from the eye surgery to remove small pieces of glass that had pierced it in the accident, but the left eye closed sleepily.  Rachel patted Blaines hand in hers.  “I think Blaine needs his rest now.”

Kurt nodded.  Rachel said, softly so as not to wake Blaine, “So we'll need to get back to New York pretty soon … I'll finish getting Blaine's things packed for you tomorrow, okay, Bubbe?”

Rachel's grandmother looked up, startled.  

“What do you mean, Rachelah?”

“Well, I – I assumed Blaine would go to live with you.  Isn't that what my dads' wills said?"

Mrs. Berry set down her teacup on the coffee table.  She looked warily at a now-sleeping Blaine.  “My Hiram made his will a long time ago, sweetheart.  Right after you were born.  He never updated it when he and LeRoy adopted Blaine and Cooper.  He meant that I would take care of you, not –“ she trailed off awkwardly.

Rachel looked stonily at her grandmother.  

“You mean, you would take care of me, because I'm your blood granddaughter.  But not Blaine, because he's only your adopted grandson.”  Her hand tightened over Blaines, and Kurt saw the hurt and disappointment in her eyes as she stared her grandmother down.

“I - - no, it's – it's not that,” Mrs. Berry protested, a little weakly.  “Not really.  I'm so much older now, too. I don't have the energy to take care of a teenage boy.  Of course I love Blaine, but I – I can't do it, Rachel.  I'm sorry.”

Rachel pressed her lips together, nodding slowly.  “Well, if it's too much for you, Bubbe, then … Cooper, I guess Blaine'll go with you?"

Startled, Cooper choked on the cruller he had just shoved in his mouth.  “Me?” He protested, after swallowing.  “But - - I'm all the way in California, and – well, I'm out all hours either auditioning or working.  I'm not equipped for a kid.  I mean, for a few weeks, but –“

“Never mind, Coop,” Blaine said, not opening his good eye or moving from Rachel's shoulder. Kurt felt a pang of concern over how pale and tired Blaines face was.  “I don't want to be an inconvenience to anybody.  I'll just board at Dalton.”

“There you go,” Cooper said, relieved.  “Then when summer rolls around, you can come visit for a few weeks, how ‘bout that, Squirt? Maybe I'll take you on some shoots so you can see the big C-note in action, that sound good?”

“Sure, Coop,” Blaine said listlessly, his eye still shut.

Rachels gaze met Kurts, pleading, and Kurt nodded at the silent question she asked.  She smiled tearfully in thanks, and then turned to Cooper.  “No.  That's not good enough; Blaine needs to be with family now.  Blaine, you're coming to New York with Kurt and me.”

Blaine sat up, looking groggy.  His hand went up to the injured eye and Rachel pulled it down. “Don't rub your eye,” she reminded him. Turning to her grandmother, she said, “Bubbe, I'll just need you to go to the lawyer's office with me tomorrow morning, to figure out the paperwork to make me Blaine's legal guardian.  Then I'll need to find a private high school in New York he can transfer to, and - -”

“Hold on.  I don't need a guardian,” Blaine mumbled.  “I'm almost fifteen.  I can stay at Dalton, that's where all my friends are, and I don't want to transfer again. I'll be fine.  And there's no room for me at the loft, anyway."

“We'll make room,” Rachel declared.  “You need a guardian and you need to be with family at a time like this, not in a dorm room hundreds of miles away. It's settled.  No arguments, Blaine.”

Blaine shrugged slightly, and put his head back down on her shoulder.   “Okay, Rae,” he whispered sadly.  “I guess if that's what you think I should do.”