Chapter Twenty Three

Kurt missed Molly more than he thought he would. If anything, her absence in the house made him think about Blaine even more, not less.

He had to stop feeling like this. He had to. Surely this feeling couldn't last forever?

But then the first letter came, and Kurt knew there would be no letting go.

He didn't know how Blaine was doing it, when he was supposed to be cut off from the world. And there was no way for Kurt to reply. Maybe that was the point.

Phone calls are brief, impersonal, words tumbling over words as emotions clash and get confused with the tiniest mistaken inflection in a tone.

Letters... letters are languid and slow. They are thoughtful and expressive in every detail, in each carefully selected word. They are a silent voice, holding more emotion than a spoken word could ever hope to achieve.

At first, they were short, tentative...

2nd August

Dear Kurt,

I know you probably don't want to hear from me. I'm still not sure what I'll even do with this letter when I'm done. Maybe it'd be better just to tear it up now.

I'm sorry. That's all I really wanted to say. I'm sorry you got mixed up in my screwed up life, but I'm sort of glad you did. Is that selfish? Even if I could do it all over again, I would still talk to you that first day, I would still watch you sing, I would still kiss you.

I know that's probably the last thing you want to hear. I know you're probably moving on, and that's great Kurt, it really is. New York is going to make you spectacular. No, that's wrong. New York is going to make you realised you're already spectacular.

And I'm so glad I was able to be a part of your life.

I miss you. So much. I don't even need to kiss you again. Just to hold your hand, I think that would be enough.

Blaine xxx

That first letter had sent Kurt spiralling right back to the start. It had left him crying, hugging the precious piece of paper to his chest, hating himself all the while. He didn't hear from Blaine for a while after that first letter, and first he thought it might have been Blaine's way to get closure, his way to say goodbye.

That idea alone left his mouth ashen and his stomach knotted.

But then, another letter came, and another. Mixes of mundane and thoughtful, good days and bad.

...I think you'd like Wes. He's like you - constantly calm, and balanced. And he has an impeccable taste in fashion. I saw his closet the other day, and couldn't stop grinning imagining your face if you ever got a look in there...

...I wish I'd got to see you guys perform at Nationals. I mean, I wish I could have seen or done a lot of things, and it's probably weird that seeing a show choir final is at the top of my list but I don't know. You were so incredible at Regionals, and I know you said it was a train wreck what with Rachel and Finn having their impromptu kiss but I still wish I'd been there. What if it had been us, up there? I wonder if you would have let me kiss you. Sorry, not helping...

...Cooper called today. I still hate phonecalls, but sometimes I wish you would call. Except, let's face it, I'd probably just make everything worse...

Sometimes, Kurt would write out his own replies. He could never send them, of course. Not only was he probably on Dalton's blacklist for any communication with Blaine, he knew that it would only make things harder.

Every letter Kurt wrote ended with the same three words, the same declaration that was glaringly missing from the end of each and every one of Blaine's letters.

Each time he wrote them, his pen flowed a little less smoothly, and his heart clenched that little bit tighter.

And then the letters from Blaine started to change.

...Miss Rosen was in my room today. She knows about Molly I'm sure of it. Thankfully we'd moved her to Jeff's room the night before. Miss Rosen makes my head hurt...

...I had that dream again last night where I was drowning. When I woke up I couldn't breathe, Kurt. I was so scared. Wes keeps telling me to tell Mr Edwards but I don't want to. I just want to tell you, and you're not here. Why aren't you here, Kurt? Please come back...

It was then that Kurt started to suspect that Blaine wasn't actually aware that Kurt was receiving the letters he was writing. When they had been together, sure they had shared a lot, but when it came to Blaine's health, he had always kept a little back. He hadn't wanted to worry Kurt. And Kurt was really starting to worry. The letters were staring to come in bundles. Lots of little sealed envelopes sent in one package, as if the writer was composing them too fast for the sender to keep up.

...I feel like I'm shattering. Like I'm splitting into lots of tiny little pieces and each one is an emotion that isn't mine. I can't be around Jeff any more in the dorms, but every time I go to class the lead in the walls makes me feel like something's trying to poison my brain. Mr Edwards asked me yesterday to describe how I was feeling in one word. I couldn't answer him. So then he asked me to try and draw a face. I just drew an empty circle...

...I was looking in the mirror this morning, and I didn't see me. What does that mean Kurt? I don't want to disappear. I'm scared. If you were here, you could tell me if I'm still here. I can't believe anyone except you...

Kurt began to exist in a permanent state of nausea. He constantly wanted to throw up, but he couldn't, he was too scared, too numb, too powerless. It had become so bad that his family had started to notice. There was obviously a direct correlation to between Kurt's nearly daily mystery letters and his detached agitation – even Finn could work that out.

And then he received one last letter. This one was alone, and thin. It was also delivered by hand, sometime in the middle of the day; Kurt had found it when he came back from Rachel's house.

It was enough to push him over the edge he had been teetering on for weeks now. It solidified his resolve, and sparked a terrified fire in his chest. He had left Blaine to protect him, to make him better. He had thought he was doing the right thing.

But nothing about this was right.

Dear Kurt,

The teachers found Molly. They took her away. I think they're calling my parents to pick her up, but I'm not allowed to even keep her while they wait. They blame her for me getting worse. They blame Wes too. He's still here at the moment but I think they're going to send him away. They were trying not to get angry, but they still were and then I got angry but they took Molly and I swore at Miss Rosen.

I've never sworn at a teacher before. I think they're still going to expel Wes.

My chest feels funny. I think it's because I know Molly's not coming back. I also still feel really angry and I don't know who that is because Miss Rosen was furious but I think I might be pretty mad too. My head won't stop pounding. It hasn't felt like this since Sam yelled at the glee club. But this time you're not here. Last time you made everything stop. You made them stop, and their emotions, and everything. You made me me again.

You make me real.

I don't think I'm real anymore, Kurt.

Blaine xxx

Kurt stared at the letter clutched tightly in his shaking hand. He read it through again, and again, the shaking handwriting burning bright scars of words onto his eyes, each and every letter branding itself into his mind.

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Screw this. Screw what people said.

Science, medicine, it could all go to hell. Kurt couldn't believe it anymore. He couldn't hold back, he couldn't pull away. He couldn't just leave.

He couldn't just say goodbye to the love of his life. He had thought he was going the 'right thing', that he was exchanging a hurting heart for Blaine's health. But instead he had bought this.

No.

Kurt's feet moved before he even realised it, his legs taking purposeful strides to Finn's room. His step-brother gaped obviously when he saw Kurt, so full of a fire and a resolve the other boy had been lacking since Blaine had moved away.

"Hey, Kurt... What's up?" Finn's eyes flicked down briefly to the paper crumpled in Kurt's hand, and he set aside his game controller tentatively.

"I need Puck's cell number."

"Right... okay... sure." Finn blinked a few times, perplexed, but pulled out his phone nonetheless. "Um... why?"

Kurt ignored him, reaching into his own pocket, "Or maybe I need Santana..."

"Well I don't know, dude, but if you told me what was going on I might be able to help?"

Kurt stopped, looking his step-brother up and down. "Really? How good do you think you'd be at smuggling me into a top grade sense refuge?"

Finn stared at him for a second, and then nodded, a mildly terrified yet determined look on his face. "I think we're gonna need more than just Puck and Santana..."

TBC