June 18, 2013, 10:03 p.m.
Love Is Strong But We're Falling Apart: Chapter 16: Headspace
T - Words: 2,590 - Last Updated: Jun 18, 2013 Story: Closed - Chapters: 21/? - Created: Dec 15, 2012 - Updated: Jun 18, 2013 833 0 0 0 0
Kurt’s POV
I hear a knock at the door. I quickly get up, glancing at Thomas and Elizabeth to check they will be okay while I answer the door, and making sure they don’t need to come with me. I feel weird. Ever since I moved to New York, I have always felt wrong answering the door at this house, even if it used to be my house too. I feel like I am invading my dad and Carole’s privacy somehow. I open the door, and am instantly glad that I left Thomas and Elizabeth playing. Because Richard Anderson cannot be standing at my dad’s door. Especially not while I am here alone with the children.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to sound more sure of myself than I am. I haven’t met Richard Anderson many times, but for the times I have, I know I don’t want to be faced with him right now. I have always wondered how Blaine turned out the way he did, with a father like Richard. My dad may not have always understood me, but at least I knew he was always there for me. Honestly one of the first things I wondered, the first time I met the man, is why he was paying for Blaine to go to Dalton when he was such an arse. I learnt a few years later that actually it had been Cooper paying for Blaine to go, not his parents. And that Richard Anderson was happy for Blaine to go back to his old high school.
“Oh, I just thought I would pop in and see my grandchildren, seeing as I haven’t ever seen them in their lives,” Richard replies way too casually. Especially seeing as he shouldn’t even know that I am in Lima with them. Let alone where in Lima my dad lives.
“I will not let you see them. They are happy and I will not have you come in and upset them. Especially Thomas, he doesn’t react well around strangers.” I quickly realize that maybe I shouldn’t have used my son’s name but it’s too late now. If he didn’t know it before, he knows now. “How did you know where we were?” I question him, trying to stop my voice from quivering. I know if he tried, Richard Anderson could easily overpower me and push his way into the house.
“That’s for me to know, and you not to. You faggots aren’t the only ones who get to keep secretes you know.” It’s only then, as I feel arms round my legs, that I know Thomas heard at least the last sentence come out of Richard’s mouth. I did hope he wouldn’t ever have to hear me or Blaine be called that again. It’s hard enough the few times he has, let alone me knowing it’s actually coming from Thomas’ grandfather. I have to keep myself calm, because I can cope with idiots in the street who are just too closed minded to care that I have no choice over who I am. But to hear it coming from Blaine’s father’s mouth is just awful. And it does nothing but remind me what Blaine had to put up with growing up, and how much I really wish I could put Richard in his place. However my son is with me, and I will not allow myself to sink to that level.
“I would prefer it if you watched your language in front of my son, thank you very much,” and I know there is a tone to my voice. I don’t like using it front of Thomas but I can’t help it.
I see Richard open his mouth to speak but he’s beaten to it by Thomas. “Daddy, who’s that and why is he calling you that nasty name?” Thomas asks. And it confirms for me that Thomas heard the f word, and it makes me feel awful. Because that is one of the reasons we spent hours talking about whether we wanted children, because we both knew deep down that no matter what we wouldn’t be able to hide them from all the hate in the world.
I turn to my son knowing I can’t ignore him for Richard. “It’s just someone that Papa knows Thomas. Don’t you worry. Will you be a good boy and go and sit and play with your sister until Daddy has finished? And then we will make a cake for after dinner tonight.” I say hoping to promise of cake will get him into the living room and away from Richard. Thomas complies and walks back to the living room, and I can’t help but sigh in relief.
“So he doesn’t know who I am. Maybe I should change that hey?” Richard questions pushing past me. And I should have known that he wouldn’t just leave.
“Richard stop!” I shout, because I can’t let him scare my son. Thomas already hates strangers. But he doesn’t listen. I didn’t really expect him to but I have to try. So I follow quickly behind him, instead hoping to do as much damage control as I can. Richard is quickly by Thomas’ side and I see Thomas tense instantly. I want to take my little boy in my arms, but I don’t want to anger Richard. I don’t know what he might do if I did.
“Hello Thomas, I’m your grandfather Richard. Come give me a cuddle.” He says gently to Thomas. And I hate that his tone sounds so normal, when he knows what he’s doing is far from normal.
“N….no you’re not” Thomas argues, and I can tell he’s fighting not to cry. “Grandpa Burt is my Grandpa not…not you.” He announces.
“Well that’s where you’re wrong. I’m your grandpa too Thomas, and Elizabeth’s.” He says and I can hear the malicious tone in his voice. He knows what he’s doing. He knows he’s upsetting my son. I’m just glad Elizabeth seems too happy biting on her Sophie giraffe to notice the stranger too.
“NO! NO! Daddy! Daddy, make him stop.” Thomas yells, and this time the tears do escape his eyes. Thomas tries to move towards me, but Richard grabs his arm. And I try and intervene, because no one is touching my son like that, especially not Richard. But I can’t move. I feel like I’ve got no control over my body. And all I can do is watch my son scream.
I feel a jolt and it’s all gone. It takes me a second to realize, but then I understand that it was all a nightmare. The children aren’t in danger; they are down stairs with Carole. And Richard isn’t here. I asked her to look after them so I could get some sleep, because even if I tried to deny it, learning what I did at 4 in the morning really takes it out of you. Now that I am calming down, I can tell that I am actually covered in sweat. I really can’t cope with going through that again even if it is a dream.
Right now I want my husband more than I have at any point over these past few months. I need to see him myself, to know that he’s okay. And while I know I won’t forgive him instantly for keeping all this from me, I need him to know that I still love him, and that we will get through this somehow. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I am willing to work at it and I am hope Blaine is too.
I allow myself to just sit for a while, still calming my own heart rate. There is no way I want my children to see me like this. I know from all the times I’ve had nightmares in the past, even if it has been years since I had one to an extent like this, that I will look wrecked. I just need a while to myself, to get it together.
I can’t help but wonder how long Blaine is planning on waiting before coming to Lima. I know he said a few days, but for him that could be a fairly broad time. I wanted to ring him as soon as I had finished reading the emails, but I knew he had his own reasons for allowing me to find out the way I had. I may not like it, but I knew I had to respect it. However right now, after the nightmare, it’s so hard for me to respect that. I want nothing more than to pick up my phone and just make sure he is safe, that’s he alright. Well, as all right he can be in all of this. And really I know he isn’t alright. He’s far from alright. I know that this is going to have affected him in so many ways. That’s clear enough by the fact that he kept it from me. But I just want him to be as alright as he can be right now.
I just need to hold him in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be okay. I know that we have a lot to talk about, but I just hope than when I do see him, at least I get to hold him. Because it’s been far too long, and I know the man too well. He will be feeling so unloved right now. I know that me holding him for a few minutes isn’t going to heal everything that’s he’s done, or everything Richard has done or tried to do, but it will be a start. And right now that’s all I can ask for.
I don’t know when Blaine is planning on first turning up but I hope it’s not when the children are awake. I just need time with my husband without having to answer questions from our son, who I know will instantly want to smother his Papa. I also don’t want them to be here, when I have a good idea that Blaine will break. He’s held it all in, and honestly I don’t know how he kept it in for so long, but he did. But the truth is out now, and he can break. He doesn’t have to hold himself together anymore, but I know he won’t break on his own. He’s never felt able to; he’s always needed a constant there to pull him back together.
Do I wish I could have held him through it all? Of course I do. However I haven’t been able to; he didn’t let me. Now I just have to hope him opening up to me the way he has is proof that’s he’s finally willing to do so. I am not going to lie to myself. I know that if he does want this to work, he has got a lot of making up to do. I can kind of see why he kept this all from me but he still shouldn’t have. I’m his husband. And all those years ago when we got back together, after everything that happened my first year in New York, we promised that we wouldn’t keep secretes like this from each other. Of course some things we were allowed to keep secret, like him planning our engagement, and me surprising him with special meals. However we agreed that communication was going to be the foundation of our relationship. We both know only too well that’s why things went wrong the first time round. And it’s happened again. A lack of communication has threatened our relationship again. At the same time I do understand it’s for a different reason, and that’s why I am hopeful that we can work through this all slowly. And we can try to understand this from the other’s point of view.
I rub my hands over my face before looking at the clock to see it’s almost 2pm, a lot later than I thought. I either got a bit of nice sleep before my nightmare, or my nightmare lasted longer than I realized. I get out bed, because I don’t feel it’s fair to leave Carole with the children now that I’m actually awake. I pull on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Normally I wouldn’t be caught in something like this, but I am not putting anything nicer on when I’ve been asleep and haven’t had a shower.
I walk down stairs and notice that Carole and the children aren’t in the living room. But, I soon hear noise coming from the kitchen, and decide to follow it. I do, and I see a lovely sight before me. Carole, Thomas and Elizabeth all cooking. Well, Elizabeth is actually in her high chair playing with a bowl of flour, but Thomas is standing on a stool helping Carole mix something that looks a lot like cake mix in the bowl.
“Looks like you’re all having fun,” I state, causing Carole to jump.
“Kurt, you’re up,” she then replies. “Keep stirring that Thomas,” she instructs him gently, before walking over towards me.
She looks at me for a second before talking again. “How are you sweetie? Did you sleep well?” she inquires. She knows part of the reason why I went to sleep. I haven’t explained to her or dad what was in my email from Blaine, just merely that I’ve had contact from him. And they know not to push. They know I will tell them if I need to, but other than that they understand that I need my space.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply. I don’t want to sound ungrateful when she’s been looking after the children. “Thank you for looking after the children for me.” She looks at me quizzically before taking my hand.
“Kurt, don’t lie to me. I think you forget, I know what you look like after you’ve had a nightmare.” And it’s true she does, because I had nightmares for months after everything that happened with Karofsky, and I also had a fair few after the slushie incident. “Go get yourself in the bath. Gosh, we didn’t buy a house with an en-suite for you, for you to only us it for the first two years we spent in this house and then neglect it from then on.” And I have to smile at this; Carole knows just the right way to lighten the mood. But that doesn’t mean I am happy. I don’t feel right leaving her with the children again. “And before you even try and argue with me Mr Hummel-Anderson, the children and I are fine. You know I love spending time with them. Now you, you go sort out your head. You aren’t in the right head space to be with them right now anyway. They’ve seen you. They both know you’re still here. Spend a bit of time looking after yourself, so you can be in the right frame to spend some time with them before they go to bed.” And I’m not going to argue with her after she referred to me by my last name, she doesn’t do that very often. So I decide that I will listen and go and have a bath and just allow myself a bit of time to myself. I need to sort out my own head for a while, knowing that I may well get overwhelmed once Blaine gets here.