Epilogue

Kurt never walked again after the accident, partly because of the damage to his spine and partly because he just didn't have the energy to care. It was much easier, he thought, to stay wheelchair bound than to put in the effort it would take to fix himself. Any happiness or zest for life he may once have had died along with Carson on that horrible night, and as far as he saw it, he was merely biding his time now. Life didn't seem worth living anymore. Carson had been such a part of him, and the world without him in it was just too overwhelming for Kurt to bear.

He knew that Carson would have been yelling at him if he were able to. Some nights, especially if it was windy, he could almost hear Carson ordering him to get up and live his life, because goddammit Kurt, you know how much he'd hate to see you like this. In the deepest recesses of his soul, Kurt thought that maybe he was doing it on purpose just to spite Carson for leaving him. That maybe, if Carson got mad enough at him, he would come back somehow. He'd take an angry Carson over none at all.

Carson never came, of course. There was always only ever the wind. Or worse, complete silence, with nothing to distract Kurt from the sound of his tears falling on his pillow in the dark.

He spent all of his time in the apartment, only leaving when it was absolutely necessary. Grocery shopping. Medical appointments that he only attended to make his father (and Sebastian and Santana) happy. Weekly visits to Carson's grave. Those were the most important. He'd squirm his way out of his wheelchair and lay there on the ground against the headstone for hours, just trying to feel as close to his twin as possible. Sometimes he sang or told Carson about how blue the sky was. It was the only time he spoke at all.

Four years after the accident, he finally pulled himself together and realized that what he was doing was completely disrespectful to Carson and his memory.

He loved me with all of his heart. If it had been me who died that night, would I want him to live the rest of his life like this? Would I want him to stop living just because I had?

No, he decided, remembering how he had felt upon discovering how many years Carson himself had spent living the same kind of sad and hollow life that Kurt was now. He wouldn't want that. And neither would Carson.

So he booked that spinal cord surgery. For Carson. Because Carson would have wanted him too.

I'll do it for you, Carsey, was the last thing he thought before the anesthesia kicked in.

When he woke up, he felt strange. So light. He sat up, surprised that he could jump off the operating table like it was nothing, and looked around. He frowned in confusion at the flurry of doctors and nurses rushing around, shouting instructions to each other as they crowded around a lifeless lump on the table. They were growing fainter by the second, and he could barely see anything for all the white space that was surrounding his field of vision.

Suddenly, a pair of hands snaked their way around his head, settling softly over his eyes, and his stomach flipped as a very familiar voice, a voice he thought he would never hear again, whispered in his ear.

"Guess who?"

Kurt turned around, tears springing to his eyes as he set them on Carson for the first time in so very long. He was as beautiful as ever, and so young. He clearly wasn't a day over eighteen, and he was dressed in the familiar blue hoodie and jeans that had almost been his high school uniform. A glance in a nearby reflective surface revealed to Kurt that he wasn't his forty-seven year old self anymore, either.

"Carson," he whispered, tentatively reaching a finger out to touch his twin's face. It felt solid. He sobbed and threw his arms around him, burying his face in his neck and never wanting to let go. After so many years of loneliness, it felt so good to be able to hug Carson again. To feel his body against his own. To be able to touch him and hear his voice and feel his hands rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"I told you I'd come back for you," said Carson. "I didn't want to leave you. I'm sorry."

"Just don't ever do it again," Kurt ordered, refusing to let go as he continued hugging Carson for all he was worth.

"I won't," Carson promised. "I don't have to now. You're coming home with me."

"Home?" asked Kurt.

"Mmm-hmm," replied Carson. "Mom and Grandma will be expecting us." He parted from the hug and took Kurt's hand, reaching down to scoop up a small, beige ball of fur with the other.

"Kurtsie Kitty, I told you to stay home," he admonished the cat. "I guess you couldn't wait to see Daddy Kurt, could you?"

Kurt laughed and squeezed Carson's hand tight, leaning forward to kiss the top of Kurtsie Kitty's head.

"I missed you, you little beast," he said through his tears.

"He missed you, too," said Carson. "We all did. Quite frankly, while I didn't want this to be your time yet, I'm really glad you're coming home with me. I worried about you, all alone here."

"You worry too much," Kurt said, his head on Carson's shoulder as they walked out of the room. "Let's go home."