Sept. 10, 2013, 4:46 p.m.
Gimme Shelter: Chapter 20
E - Words: 3,668 - Last Updated: Sep 10, 2013 Story: Complete - Chapters: 22/22 - Created: Aug 29, 2013 - Updated: Apr 13, 2022 135 0 0 0 0
A sharp pain to his shin woke up Blaine. It only took him a moment to figure out its source. Kurt was thrashing on the bed beside him, muttering half-formed words in his sleep. Blaine calmed his anxiety enough to gather Kurt into his arms. "Hey, I've got you," Blaine whispered into the darkness. He could feel the moment Kurt jerked awake in his hold. His breathing was erratic, and at first he tried pushing Blaine away.
"Hey, I've got you everything is alright," Blaine tried again. Kurt was still stiff in his arms.
"No, it's not," Kurt rasped.
Blaine kissed his forehead gently, hoping to calm Kurt, make him relax. "Yes, it is. Your safe, I'm safe, everyone is alright."
"But they're not," Kurt choked, his voice heavy with tears. "I couldn't... I can't..."
"Can't what?" Blaine asked anxiety building in his chest once more.
"Save them all." Kurt cried before burying his face in Blaine's chest.
In an instant, Blaine understood. For Kurt the war wasn't over, he was still haunted, may always be haunted by those he wasn't quick enough, or were too far gone to be saved. To make matters worse, Blaine knew there was not a damn thing he could do to make it magically go away. He held Kurt tighter to him as tears snake their way down his chest. "You tried Kurt, always tried." Kurt cried harder at the words. All Blaine could do was whisper words of comfort and love into the darkness and hope that Kurt heard. He just wanted things to be okay again.
The sky began to lighten outside and Kurt roused himself from Blaine's arms. "We should help, I want to help." Kurt murmured.
Blaine helped Kurt dress before Kurt rewrapped Blaine's shoulder and dressed himself. The house was still quiet as they made their way back through the much-changed house. The kitchen light was on and they discovered Puck eating a plate of eggs at the new kitchen table. Everything in here was changed too. A new electric oven replaced the beautiful antique stove and a new fridge sat where the icebox used to be. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was painted a gleaming white. Puck looked up at their entrance, "hey, what are you guys doing up so early."
"I want to help with the chores, I know I won't be as fast as I used to, and i will need some help but I want to get back into my routine." Kurt told him in an unfamiliar hesitant voice.
Puck looked uncomfortable for a minute, rubbing his neck and taking a drink form his coffee cup before speaking. "Um, we'll there is really no need..."
"I want to... I need to." Kurt interrupted him.
Puck looked at Kurt with sad eyes, "no man, I mean there really isn't a need. There are no morning chores." Before He could explain further, Kurt rushed out of the room as fast as his crutches would allow. Blaine fought the urge to go after him; he needed to know what was going on.
"What the hell man?" He asked rounding on Puck who was still staring at the place where Kurt had disappeared.
He turned to Blaine and sighed. "I had to take care of my family."
"And what having an endless supply of milk and eggs made that impossible in some way? Providing fresh vegetables and eggs for them was too much work?" Blaine yelled.
"A little bit yeah," Puck yelled back. He took a deep breath before continuing calmer. "I had to find a job; we had no money coming in, what did you expect me to do? Before, there was always Kurt's art to help with cash flow, but with him gone and me stuck here... it worked for a while, but it just wasn't enough. We were struggling. I got a job right before Christmas. After the lottery, I drew 279; I knew I was safe from the draft. I didn't need to hide anymore. So, I went out and found a job. I'm doing construction. I leave here early, work my ass off all day and it is almost dark by the time I come home. There just wasn't any time. Quinn tried for a while, but we just couldn't do it. A friend of mine from work, helped me fix the place up, taught me how to do the wiring. It's another skill to have; I can make more money, do more. Quinn is working for a seamstress in town, she can do that here now. We have a nice life and I can provide for my kid."
Blaine was a little shocked to find out Puck was Beth father, but didn't want to focus on that fact at the moment. "But Kurt..." he couldn't finish his thought and just looked at Puck sadly.
Puck gave him a sad smile, "I honestly didn't think he would make it back. I wasn't trying to hurt him, I just wanted a good life for my family."
Blaine didn't respond just walked out of the house to find Kurt. He searched the yard and the barn before making his way out to the clearing where the garden once stood. Kurt was sitting in the unturned soil chunking dirt clods moodily. "Hey," Blaine greeted hoping not to startle him.
Kurt turned to him with sad eyes. "Everything has changed," he whispered just loud enough for Blaine to catch. "I spent so long wanting to come home to you, to come back here and... And nothing is the way it's supposed to be."
Blaine's heart sank as Kurt trailed off looking away from him again. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was part of Kurt's disappointment. Trying to ignore the hurt welling up inside of him, he closed the space between the two and sat heavily beside Kurt on the hard ground. "I'm sorry," he said, hoping his feeling weren't clear in his voice.
Kurt looked at him confused, "why would you be sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."
Blaine could feel the tears prickling at his eyes, but did his best to stay them. "You said nothing was as it's supposed to be... I just thought maybe..."
Kurt grabbed his hand but didn't look at him. "Not you, it's everything else."
They sat out there until the sun was fully in the sky.
They stayed at the farm, even though to them nothing felt right. They couldn't even venture into the loft, which Puck had assured them was just the way Kurt left it, neither able to navigate the ladder. Quinn tried to engage them during the day, to talk about everyday things, but Kurt seemed to distance himself more the more she tried to act as if nothing had changed. Kurt made a few attempts to play with Beth, but she still shied away from anyone that was not her parents. In the end, they spent most of their time in the clearing silently sitting as time passed. Kurt seemed to withdraw further into himself, talking less and less, even to Blaine. About a week after arriving at the farm, a large box was delivered bearing Kurt name.
Blaine saw him tentatively open the box and watched him curiously. He saw his breath hitch as he removed an envelope and peered inside the box. Blaine took a careful step over to him, ready to be shooed away. Instead, Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him even closer. Inside the box was a stack of familiar letters along with pictures and other memorabilia. With shaking hands, Kurt tore open the letter and read. Blaine couldn't help but read along.
Doc,
I've been keeping your stuff for you since the day you didn't return from your mission. I heard talk of sending your things to your emergency contact, some woman I never heard you speak of before and that just didn't seem right to me. It bothered me that they wouldn't send it to Bea, and I couldn't understand why you wouldn't have this gal you talked about like she hung the moon listed as your emergency contact. I knew you well enough to know that you had no living family, so it left me baffled. I figured I would just wait until I was out of this hellhole, finally look at the letters myself, find Bea, and give her your things if I had to. Of course, I always hoped that you would be found, but we both know that you beat the odds on that end.
When they started assembling a rescue team after contact was made, I leapt at the chance to be a part of it. You saved us so many times, I can't count how many times you have run to save one of us not even paying attention to the bullets whizzing past you. I needed to help save you for once.
When we found you, you were in bad shape. You were mumbling, I honestly don't think if I wasn't carrying your head I would have heard or understood you, but I was and I did. You talked about B, but you actually used a name. So I know why some woman you never talked about was your contact, I don't know if it was B's mom or sister or who she was, but I knew why you couldn't list B.
Honestly, at first I didn't know what to think about this information. Back home, there was this one boy. He was smaller than the rest of us, he was quiet too, never said much to anyone. Word was he was a faggot, I don't know who found out, or how they knew. One day I was out with the guys from the football team, we were out drinking, just driving around the town trying to have some fun. We ran into this guy and he smiled at as. Looking back, I'm sure he was just trying to be nice, or maybe he was scared shitless and was hoping if he were nice, we would leave him alone. We didn't. One of the guys, I don't remember who, started yelling at him calling him names. We all joined in. I got a few hits in as well. We beat him up pretty badly and just left him there.
At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, I'd been taught that real men, they don't do the things they said he did. That if he did those things then something must be wrong with him. He couldn't be right in the head, right. Now, I don't know. I don't think I have ever met a tougher or braver man than you. I swear I would beat the shit out of anyone who tried to suggest you aren't a real man. And while I think you might be crazy for turning down bacon and steak, I mean really I don't think you know what you are missing, I don't think you are messed in the head. I've spent enough time with you to know that there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you. But then there is B.
I think I let this bother me for too long. I mean, I was torn man. You were my friend, and I knew if anyone found out, you would be discharged or disappear. I've heard of it happening. One day a guys at boot camp, the next he is gone and no one can tell you where or why. You don't deserve that man. So I think, it just doesn't matter. You never tried to pull anything over on us, and practically looked disgusted when we had to show you our junk when that rash was going around. So it doesn't matter to me.
I'll keep your secret and wish you a quiet life from now on. Maybe I can look you up when I get home in a few months. Either way, I hope you are happy.
Your friend,
Jerry Billings
Kurt gave a sad smile as he finished the letter, and Blaine couldn't help but pull him in his arms. "You really are the bravest man I know," he whispered in his ear.
Kurt continued to pull away though. It got to so he didn't talk to anyone, but for maybe a few words here or there. He never seemed to mind Blaine's presence, but he avoided contact more and more. Even in bed at night, he would roll away as soon as he thought Blaine was asleep. Blaine could hear him curl in on himself, but knew better than to press the issue. Most nights Kurt woke Blaine up in the throes of a nightmare. Only then would Kurt allow himself to relax into Blaine's embrace, too tired and scared to keep a wall up any longer.
It was with a kind of relief that Blaine climbed into Cooper's car on the morning of his last doctor's appointment. Kurt had to travel to Cleveland to go to the VA to have his cast removed so he had left much earlier with Quinn and Beth. As soon as Kurt's appointment was set, Blaine had made his own to have what he hoped was his own last doctors visit.
Cooper looked over at his little brother, concern clear on his face. "How are you holding up squirt?"
It was as if his own damn had broken and Blaine spilled all his worry and frustration on Cooper. For his part, Cooper listened intently, trying not to let the image of his little brother curled up with another man in bed shade the story he was being told. "I just... he is so sad and he used to be this wonderfully positive person and I don't know how to get him back." Blaine concluded his face buried in his hands.
"Well, he has been through a lot." Cooper began, to sure what to say. He had never dealt with anything of the sort, so instead of personal experience; he began speaking from the heart. Saying what he would do if it were Mary who seemed so broken. "I think you just need to be there for him. Maybe try to get him to do the things he used to love. From what you've told me he has always like taking care of people and things, and now he doesn't have that to focus on. Maybe he needs something to care for. Or maybe his art. Or, I don't know, tell him how you feel."
When Blaine returned that night, glad to have his own car back, he rushed into the house to find Kurt. Kurt was curled up on their bed, staring at the paintings now lining the wall. "Do you remember that day?" Blaine asked hoping that Kurt would smile or they could sit and reminisce about that day that seemed so long ago. Kurt only nodded and pulled his arms tighter around himself. "I see you are cast free, what did the doctor say?" Kurt merely shrugged. Blaine climbed in bed behind him, kissed his hair and muttered, "I love you Kurt."
Tears filled his eyes when he heard, "I love you too" whispered back.
The next morning Blaine all but forced Kurt up into the loft. He pulled out art supplies and thrust them in Kurt hand with an encouraging smile. Blaine sat and played his guitar, until his shoulder began to ache from the new effort. Kurt just stared at the sketchpad in front of him. Days passed the same way, Blaine playing a nod Kurt staring at the still blank paper. The only response Blaine could get out of him was 'I love you's.' Blaine felt he was slowly losing Kurt each day.
One morning after his shoulder was screaming that it had had enough; Blaine stormed to the ladder. Kurt looked up at him I surprise. Usually when Blaine would stop playing they would just sit up in the loft together, Blaine never left. "I can't keep doing this Kurt. Every day I wait for you to come back to me, but you're still so lost. I want to help you but you keep pushing me away. I love you... I just can't" he could feel the tears threatening to fall so he climbed down the ladder and ran to his car. Blaine drove, ignoring the tears until the finally dried away; but he continued to drive feeling so lost himself.
He didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't force Kurt to let his feelings out in his art. He couldn't force Kurt to talk. He couldn't really do anything to help at all. He had never felt so useless in all his life. The ache in Blaine's heart was much worse than even when Kurt was MIA, now he was right in front of him but so far gone. He was at his wits end, and the light was beginning to fade from the sky when something caught his eye and an idea began to form.
When Blaine pulled up to the house, it was dark, but he could see a faint light shining from the loft of the barn. He checked to see that his surprise was still safe on the back seat before making his way into the barn. When he peeked over the floor of the loft the sight in front of him made him draw in a quick breath. Kurt was lying awkwardly in front of a large canvas. Materials were strewn all across the floor, obviously thrown about. Kurt's whole body was covered in smears and splotches of paint. On the canvas in front of him was a mess of greens, browns, blacks and reds. In the center of it all two blue eyes, open scared and pleading were just discernible in the disarray. He could see it all, Kurt's anguish, his fear, so clear on the canvas. He felt like he was drowning.
With his heart thudding, he approached Kurt, and shook him gently awake. Kurt's eyes startled open and tears gathered in them as they fell on Blaine. "You're here." He croaked before throwing himself at Blaine.
"Did you think I was leaving leaving?" Blaine asked feeling like the world's biggest asshole. Kurt just clutched him tighter and nodded. "I wasn't, I just needed to get away and think. I didn't know what else I could do to help. I felt like I was losing you all over again."
"No," Kurt said, trying to pull Blaine even closer, though it was impossible. "I just felt like I was..."
"Drowning?" Blaine asked.
Kurt sighed, "Yes. There is so much in my head and I want to be happy, I want things to be like there were but everything is changed. I've changed. I've seen so much and I won't leave my head, but I don't want to talk about it because I don't want it in anyone else's head. I don't feel like I'm okay."
"You will be." Blaine stated with as much conviction as he could muster. "We will be, but you can't keep pushing me away. You don't have to talk about it, but you have to let me back in. If you want me here, you have to let me in."
Kurt was crying in earnest now, "I want you here, I want you. I love you Blaine. I'm sorry I have been pushing you away."
"I have something for you. I think it might help." Blaine said trying to pick them up off the floor.
Blaine lead them back to his car, but stood in front of Kurt blocking his view inside the vehicle once they got close. "You have always taken care of everyone. I think you need to take care of people at least a little bit. You seemed to be okay in your letters and I think it was because you knew you couldn't break down, you had a job to do." Kurt nodded; amazed that Blaine could know him so well even from afar. "So... I have something for you to take care of, he's all yours." Blaine opened the car door and pulled out a large fluffy puppy.
Kurt's hand was over his mouth when Blaine looked back at him, but he could see a smile creeping up behind it. "A puppy?" he asked eyes brightening for the first time.
"A puppy." Blaine assured handing over the animal until he was filling Kurt's arms.
"I always wanted a dog." Kurt whispered his amazement clear.
Blaine scuffed his toe in the dirt. "I didn't know what to do to help and I was driving around and I saw a sign for St. Bernard puppies for sale. You know they used to be used as rescue dogs and I thought that was what we needed."
"I think so too." Kurt said in all seriousness as he nuzzled his face in the soft fur.
"So what are you going to name him?" Blaine asked.
Kurt was silent for a minute. The puppy turned and began licking his face with vigor making Kurt laugh, a sound that made Blaine's heart race. Kurt rubbed the dog's head one more time before setting his eyes on Blaine once again. He took a deep breath as if he was steeling himself for something. "Doc," he announced with such certainty that Blaine would not even think to argue. Kurt continued however. "When someone needed help that is what they would call most of the time. I keep hearing it over and over in my head. I keep thinking about the ones that I couldn't save. I feel like they are still calling me. They are there every time I go to sleep and I can't get them out of my head. It's like they're haunting me." He looked deeply into Blaine's eyes and Blaine felt as if he could see his soul, all the pain and hurt and haunting memories. "I think I need help. I think you and... Doc could do that. I think I need something else to associate with the word..."
Blaine pulled Kurt into a hug, squishing the dog between them. "I'll help... I'm here...I'll help."
That night Kurt let Blaine hold him again the whole night through with Doc curled beside them.