Epilogue

December 30, 2013

Blaine stirred in his sleep, habitually reaching beside him to pull his fiancé closer. His arm met with cool sheets instead of warm flesh. Groaning, Blaine lifted his head from his pillow and squinted across the empty space beside him. He listened carefully, trying to discern where Kurt was in the penthouse. He heard the crumpling of paper from the study and pushed himself out of bed.

A year had passed since Kurt’s rehabilitation at S.A.F.E. Alternatives in St. Charles, Missouri. The first few months after his release had not been easy. Kurt frequently dissolved into tears, which his therapist, Andrew Sawin, assured Blaine was to be expected. The beauty of inpatient treatment was it relieved stress while the patient was admitted but upon release they once again had to deal with the real world.

With the help of his friends and family, Kurt quickly readapted to life after rehab. For an entire year, he had relied on sedatives to help him sleep at night. Now, he was trying to become less dependent on them and only use them when he absolutely needed to. The result was different almost every night. Some nights, Kurt fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. Other nights, he tossed and turned half the night until he finally retreated to the study so he would not wake Blaine. This was such a night.

A lot had changed over the past year, and not just Kurt’s sleeping habits. Finn and Rachel had found a loft in Bushwick to rent, giving both couples their own space and privacy. Kurt continued to watch his weight but found the exercise room in the penthouse to be too triggering and together with Blaine and Finn had converted the room into a music room. They moved the baby grand piano from the library with a little difficulty and had acquired a drum set as Blaine had long expressed a yearning to play. Now, Kurt spent more time playing instruments than exercising, though he did frequent the gym housed in the Gramercy Park Hotel. Some nights Blaine would find Kurt taking his frustrations out on the piano, but tonight it seemed he had chosen other means of catharsis.

“Hey, watch it!” Blaine exclaimed when a ball of paper flew through the air, narrowly missing his head.

“I woke you up,” Kurt said sadly, turning to face his fiancé. He held his arms out and Blaine went to him with a smile. Kurt pulled him down onto his lap. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You know I’d rather be awake with you than have you stewing alone. What’s going on up here?” he asked, tapping Kurt’s forehead.

“I’m trying to design the perfect tattoo to cover my scars,” Kurt said.

Blaine crossed the room to unravel the paper Kurt had thrown. Looking down he saw a simple sketch of the word “Courage” in cursive writing.

“What’s wrong with this?” Blaine asked as he brought the paper back to Kurt.

“It’s all wrong. I want something that really stands out.”

“Something that stands out yet you’re trying to cover your scars. Which, might I remind you, have not fully healed. Remember, the doctor said you have at least another three months before you’re fully healed.”

“I remember everything that prick said,” Kurt said scathingly.

The memory of his visit with the plastic surgeon, Dr. Richard Laurens, was forever instilled into his mind. Blaine had sworn Kurt would never see that man again.

Tuesday February 12, 2013

“Mr. Hummel, I understand you are seeking treatment for several scars,” Dr. Laurens said as he opened the door to the exam room.

Kurt climbed onto the exam table, leaving Blaine to sit in the chair beside him. Kurt had finally been released from his neurologist and no longer had to wear an arm brace for his torn tendons. The tendons had regrown successfully and all feeling had returned to Kurt’s wrist. The same could not be said of his fingers. Kurt had little to no sensation in his fingers and his movements were stiff at best. He was still determined to use his hand to the best of his ability.

“More than several, actually,” Kurt corrected. “But the worst are those on my left wrist.”

“How did you come by these scars?” Dr. Laurens asked as he inspected Kurt’s wrist. “These look self-inflicted.”

“They were. There are others:  on my stomach, abdomen and my thighs.”

“These scars are not fully healed as of yet. How long ago were they inflicted?”

“Three months ago.”

“Scars such as these require at least eighteen months to fully heal.”

“Eighteen months!” Kurt exclaimed.

“The depth of the scars call for a longer healing process. However, there are several options for you, Mr. Hummel,” Dr. Laurens said as he sat on the rolling stool reserved for doctors. “Steroid injections are proven to flatten hypertrophic scars – meaning raised scars such as you have – and also help with the redness. The steroids are injected directly into the scars, which breaks down the collogen. These injections would also help with any itching sensation you may have. I’m sure you already know itching means your scar is healing.”

“Yes,” Kurt said. “What are the other options?”

“Silicone gel sheets can flatten the scar. This is a rather simple process. You apply the sheet and it is worn 24 hours a day. There is also laser skin resurfacing but that is generally for most extreme cases.”

“These aren’t extreme?” Kurt asked, raising his left wrist. Scars covered a good bit of Kurt’s body, but the scars on his left wrist were the worst. They were an ugly purple and the skin was raised. These scars were from that fateful November evening.

“Mr. Hummel, I simply mean to ask if you are sure plastic surgery is right for you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Blaine asked, anger brewing below the surface.

“I am no stranger to self-harm, Mr. Hummel. But why cover up what you obviously don’t mind displaying? After all, aren’t you only going to add to these scars in the future?”

Kurt gaped at the doctor. He could not believe the gall of this man had to question how serious he was about recovery.

“How dare you come in here and judge my fiancé based on his past! He is a recovered self-injurer. Your job is to provide a service, not to judge your patients,” Blaine fumed.

“I’m well aware of my job, Mr. Anderson. But I will not provide a service to a patient who is going to undo my work with more scars.”

“I gave up self-injury,” Kurt exclaimed. “And it is not your place to judge me. Thank you for the consult, doctor, but I believe I’d rather be referred to someone else.”

Kurt stormed out of the room. Blaine gave Dr. Laurens one last scathing look before following him.

“I only meant that you have three months before you can even meet with a tattoo artist,” Blaine reminded him.

“I realize that, Blaine,” Kurt snapped. He sighed heavily, setting down his pencil. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, well used to Kurt’s mood swings by now. Thankfully, they had died down after the first few months post-rehab. Kurt pulled Blaine back down onto his lap. Blaine picked up Kurt’s wrist and examined the scars.

After finding another plastic surgeon, Kurt underwent several steroid shots. The shots were injected directly into the scars. After a series of shots, Kurt had begun applying silicone gel sheets over the scars.

“I really am sorry,” Kurt elaborated. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with over the past year. I’ve snapped at you, Rachel, and Finn more than a few times.”

“Sometimes Finn deserved it,” Blaine reminded him.

Thursday July 4, 2013

Kurt and Blaine were both busy as waiters at a quaint diner while Finn and Rachel were busy with school. They tried to make time for each other but oftentimes they only had time to pair off as couples rather than to spend as a foursome. Because of this, Kurt was determined the four of them would spend the Fourth together.

He stood at the kitchen counter slicing tomatoes for a salad while Blaine and Finn were grilling hamburgers, veggie burgers, and hot dogs in the north outdoor room. He heard the boys coming down the stairs and looked up as he continued to slice the tomato in his hand. Kurt felt the knife cut into the tender skin of his palm. The knife and the tomato tumbled onto the cutting board.

“What happened?” Blaine asked, hurrying to Kurt’s side when he saw he was bleeding.

“I cut myself while slicing the tomatoes,” Kurt answered. He moved to the sink and put his hand under cold water.

“Let me see,” Blaine requested. He took Kurt’s hand and examined it closely.

“It’s not that bad,” Finn observed.

“I don’t know,” Blaine disagreed. “You might need stitches.”

“I only meant you’ve done worse to yourself,” Finn said.

“Finn!” Rachel exclaimed.

“What? It’s true,” Finn defended himself.

“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you had to say it, Finn,” Kurt said angrily. “I’m well aware of what I’ve done to myself in the past and I don’t need you to remind me of that! In case you didn’t realize, I haven’t hurt myself in any way in eight months!”

“I only meant-”

“I don’t care what you meant!” Kurt interrupted him. He sighed unhappily and pulled his hand from Blaine’s. “I’m going to go clean this.”

Blaine glared at Finn after Kurt left. “That was completely uncalled for.”

“I didn’t mean to offend him. I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem, Finn. You never think.”

And with that, Blaine followed Kurt out of the room.

“You know Finn didn’t mean anything by that.”

“I know,” Kurt replied. He looked at the drawing once more.

“Why don’t you do this?”

Blaine took the ‘Courage’ sketch from Kurt and picked up his pencil. He drew a curving line from the beginning of the word to the middle, then picked the line up from the other side and continued to the end. The result was the word ‘Courage’ in the middle of the infinity symbol.

“Blaine,” Kurt gasped, taking the drawing from him. “It’s perfect!”

Kurt turned him so Blaine was straddling him and pressed their lips together.

“You’re perfect,” Blaine said when they pulled apart.

“Don’t.”

“It’s true. I’m so proud of you, Kurt. You’ve come so far.”

“I had help.”

“Not all the time. You learned to find happiness with what you’re given instead of searching for it elsewhere.”

“I found my own little utopia, here with you.”

“I love you,” Blaine said seriously.

“I love you too,” Kurt answered.

“Forever.”

“And always.”