The air is thick and Kurt can’t breathe. His heart flutters nervously as he rearranges the throw pillows for the twelfth time, picks lint from his jacket, remakes the bed. Jennifer Anderson puts a calming hand on his shoulder and Kurt feels like bursting into tears. Like he’s cracking and any added pressure could be the breaking point and he would shatter all over his nicely mopped floor.

“Everything’s fine,” Jennifer says even though Kurt knows she’s lying. Everything isn’t fine. Today Blaine comes home. Today is the day Kurt has been simultaneously anticipating and dreading. The day when Blaine becomes his. His responsibility, no nurses a flashing red button away, or doctors with their clipboards and reflex hammers to show him what to do. All the information is stored in his head, filed away in volumes, and now it’s up to him to care for Blaine.

“I’m scared,” Kurt whispers after a moment and Jennifer squeezes his shoulder.

“I know,” she says back and Kurt looks up at her through the tears in his eyes. “If it’s too much, we can call one of the homes that the doctor suggested.”

Kurt quickly shakes his head. “No.” It’s not an option.

Jennifer ruffles a hand through his hair even though he’s far too old for that and he actually put a little effort into his appearance for the first time in two months, but he doesn’t stop her. He knows she’s just as scared as he is.

“You’re really brave, you know that?” Jennifer is saying, eyes gazing to the front door where Blaine will be coming any moment. Kurt doesn’t know what to say, so he stays silent. “Not many would have the courage to do this.”

Her words resonate in Kurt. Courage. So fucking cheesy but so perfectly Blaine. It was the word that set the events in motion that brought them together, that Blaine would text Kurt whenever he was feeling down, or write on little notes and slip them in Kurt’s lunch during finals, or scribble in makeup on the bathroom mirror and Kurt would grumble as he washed it off, but secretly he loved it. And now, perhaps the most appropriate time for the word since they met and Blaine couldn’t even say it. So Kurt would have to say it for Blaine. He would have to act it. To live it.

Standing taller, Kurt tries to smile at Blaine’s mother, but it falls short as the door swings open. They immediately stand, waiting as Robert Anderson enters, followed by two hospital staff, and Blaine. Kurt’s heart pounds and his mouth suddenly feels dry as Blaine is pushed into the room. They stop in the living room, the staff double checking that everything is in order before handing off paperwork, wishing them luck, and leaving.

And just like that, it’s only them. Blaine’s eyes are wide as they drift across the room, taking everything in. Robert is looking over the place critically, like he hasn’t already seen it a thousand times, like he wasn’t the one who bought it, but Kurt figures it’s mostly nerves. He doesn’t really know what to do either.

“I hope you like it,” Kurt says to Blaine, voice sounding thin and he tries to push it down. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He’s been with Blaine almost every day for the past two months, there’s no reason to be nervous now.

“I’m going to paint it in earth tones, I think,” he says, more for something to say, and Blaine’s eyes stop when they meet his. “You can help me pick the colors, if you want.”

Blaine doesn’t move, just raises his index finger in the way Kurt knows means yes and Kurt smiles.

“Um…so, a tour?” Kurt asks and Blaine lifts his finger again. Jennifer moves to push Blaine, eager for something to do, and Kurt lets her. Their house is small so it doesn’t take very long, but Kurt feels his anxiety begin to melt at the way Blaine tips his head, eyes roaming and face content. He looks more relaxed than he ever did in the hospital and Kurt has no doubt he made the right choice. The choice to keep Blaine, take care of him himself, rather than cart him off to some home where nobody knows that he likes cinnamon in his coffee, or his favorite color is red, or if he puts his right sock on first than his whole day is thrown off.

“Do you mind if we have some time…alone?” Kurt asks hesitantly after the tour. Jennifer looks to her husband, who nods as his eyes fall to Blaine. It’s hard for Kurt to see Blaine like this, body stiff and unmoving in his chair, jaw slightly open, hair cut short to reveal the harsh, red, still-healing scars, only his eyes showing any sort of awareness. He knows Blaine and his parents haven’t always gotten along, but despite their arguments and disappointments, he’s still their child, and Kurt can’t imagine how this must hurt for them.

“Of course,” Jennifer says with a forced smile. “Do you want us to bring you back some dinner?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No thanks.”

“Alright,” Jennifer says, and reaches to stroke Blaine’s hand. “We’ll be back later, honey.”

Blaine shifts his head to look at his mother, mouth twitching in what Kurt knows is supposed to be a smile. Blaine’s father rests a hand on Blaine’s shoulder for a moment and then it’s just them.

Kurt kneels beside Blaine, drawing his hand between both of his. Blaine looks down at him, eyes shining like he desperately wants to say something, but can’t. His body won’t let him.

“I hope it’s ok,” Kurt says softly. “I know it’s not what we had in mind for our first home.”

Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand and that’s all it takes. The cracks in the careful fa�ade he’s been living behind shatter, and the tears he’s been holding back all day fall.

“I miss you,” he says, voice thick and he presses his forehead into Blaine’s arm. “I miss you so much.”

He cries for a moment until he feels Blaine shift, hand pulling from Kurt’s as he moves until Kurt is forced to look up. Blaine moves his hand, slowly and stiffly, reaching for Kurt, fingertips barely brushing his cheek. Kurt guides him, fingers wrapping around his wrist as he presses Blaine’s hand into his cheek, feeling the familiar touch, the warmth, the security of Blaine. Blaine’s eyes find Kurt’s; he looks sad and Kurt knows if he could Blaine would tell him “I’m right here.” He would hold Kurt while he cried, rubbing soothing circles on his back and speak comfortingly about nothing, his voice soft and soothing, and Kurt would snuggle into him, feeling safe and loved. But Blaine can’t do any of these things anymore. Who knows if he ever will. It’s up to Kurt now.

“I know,” Kurt whispers, moving Blaine’s hand so he can press a kiss to his palm. And he knows then, they don’t need words. What they have is stronger than language. They don’t need to speak, to scribble silly words on napkins, or write with sticks in the snow. They only need each other, and while it will be difficult and at times they’ll both want to just quit, they will always understand each other.

For the first time in nearly two months Kurt feels a swell of hope. Like he can do this. They can do this. Just the two of them.

July 13, 2018

There are good days and bad days. It’s a Friday, three weeks since Blaine came home, and today is a bad day. Kurt knows he shouldn’t get upset. It’s not Blaine’s fault. It’s understandable. But it doesn’t help. It’s just so hard sometimes. So hard when Blaine lashes out, when nothing Kurt can say or do can calm him and Kurt feels so broken.

He’s in their bedroom, clutching Blaine’s pillow to his chest, face buried to hide his tears. Blaine is in the living room, where Kurt left him to cool down. Days like this seem overwhelming, crushing, and sometimes Kurt wonders if anything will ever be right again. The doctors said Blaine’s brain chemistry is all messed up, that his mood swings are as much a chemical imbalance as actual anger, but it doesn’t really matter. It still hurts.

He stays in the room, letting himself be calmed by the pillow that smells so much of Blaine, until he hears a bang and rushes back into the living room. The lamp that used to sit beside the couch is now on the floor, along with the remote and broken pieces of the coffee cup Kurt knew he shouldn’t have left out this morning. Blaine is scowling down at them, as if the inanimate objects were the ones that beat his head in and left him broken and hurting.

Kurt doesn’t say anything, knows nothing he could say would help, just crouches down and picks up the fallen objects, moving them to the kitchen. When he returns, Blaine has moved to glare at his knees and Kurt can see the long red lines he’s scratched into his arm.

“Oh, Blaine,” he says, grasping Blaine’s arm gently to get a better look, biting his lip at the way the scratches have puffed up, blood welling at the end. Blaine just shakes Kurt off, arms jerking in towards himself, message clear.

“Blaine, honey, can I look?” Kurt tries to make his voice as gentle as possible, but it doesn’t work. Blaine shifts away from Kurt, drawing his arms tighter to his body.

“Don’t be like this, Blaine, please,” Kurt pleads, knowing his words are useless but unable to stop them. “I want to help.”

Blaine’s breaths begin to get more ragged and he coughs that familiar, terrible cough, trying to get his breathing back under control. Kurt knows he is working himself up, that he is at risk of bringing about a seizure, and Kurt will be the cause. And god, does it hurt.

“Do you want me to leave?” Kurt asks quietly and Blaine lifts his index finger. Yes. Kurt just nods and slips into the kitchen, swallowing his tears. He stands there for a moment, hands gripping the counter tightly as he listens to Blaine cough, each ragged breath cutting into him.

With shaky hands Kurt pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he finds the desired number.

“Kurt?” Rachel sounds surprised when she answers. She had been by to see Blaine in the hospital a few times, and had brought them a questionable vegan dinner after they first moved into their house, but other than that, they haven’t kept in touch. Kurt hasn’t been keeping in touch with anyone, really.

“Hey,” Kurt says, hating how desperate he knows he sounds.

“Kurt, what’s wrong?” Rachel sounds concerned. “Is everything ok?”

Kurt is silent a moment, taking a deep breath.

“I just…I can’t, Rachel,” the words spill out and he knows he doesn’t make sense but he doesn’t care. “I don’t know who else to talk to.”

“What’s going on?” Rachel’s voice is gentle, encouraging. “Is it Blaine?”

Kurt nods and then remembers she can’t see him. He sags to the floor, back pressing against the counter, free hand cupping his forehead.

“Yeah…he just…he’s really upset and I don’t know,” he bites his lip, eyes darting towards the entrance that leads to Blaine. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Maybe you don’t have to fix it,” Rachel says quietly. “You can’t fix everything, Kurt.”

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and a tear tracks down his cheek. He takes a shaky breath.

“I just need to get out,” the words surprise him even as he says them. “I need to get away. Just for a few hours.”

Rachel is silent for a moment.

“Do you want me to watch him?” she offers. “I can come over tonight and you can take a break.”

Kurt thinks it over. “I feel so guilty…leaving him. Like I’m not strong enough to be here for him.”

“Kurt, we might not talk much, but I know you. I know you’re working yourself to death at work and taking care of Blaine. You need a break every once and a while. You’re the strongest person I know, besides me, but even we need breathers sometimes.”

Kurt smiles slightly. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

It’s almost six when Rachel arrives, in a dress Kurt’s pretty sure used to be a homeless person’s blanket. But he’s so glad to see her he doesn’t even say anything. They hug for a long while in the entrance, Kurt relaxing into her arms, realizing how long it’s been since he had someone hold him. It’s nice, comforting. When they finally pull apart, Kurt leads her to the living room where Blaine is still tense and scowling.

“Hey Blaine,” Rachel says cheerfully. Blaine looks up in slight surprise but quickly returns his gaze back to the floor.

“Blaine?” Kurt tries to draw Blaine’s attention, but Blaine acts as though he doesn’t hear him. Kurt’s not surprised. He continues speaking anyways. “I’m going to go…run some errands. Rachel’s going to stay here with you, ok?”

Only the slight shifting of Blaine’s shoulder gives any indication that he heard. Rachel looks concerned but Kurt just shakes his head at her and leads her into the kitchen.

“He’ll probably be like this all night,” Kurt explains and Rachel’s eyes are sad.

“Is he okay?” she asks and Kurt shrugs.

“He’s frustrated. He can’t do what he used to and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, I think. He’s angry at everything. He’s angry at me.”

Rachel looks ready to cry. “What do I need to do?”

Kurt explains it to her, how to hook up his feeding tube if he actually decides to eat, how to transfer him, the warning signs of a seizure. Rachel just nods and takes it all in and Kurt has never respected her more than in that moment.

“Are you sure it’s ok?” Kurt asks before he leaves. “I can stay if you’re not comfortable.”

Rachel waves him off. “We’ll be fine. I have your number. Go have fun.”

Kurt leaves and Blaine doesn’t move.

He drives to the first not sketch bar he can find and it’s crowded, which Kurt figures makes sense on a Friday. He makes his way to the bar, sitting awkwardly on a stool and ordering an Appletini. It was strange how, despite the crowd, he’s never felt more alone. Like there was something missing, an empty space beside him waiting to be filled.

It takes exactly twelve minutes and twenty-four seconds for Kurt to regret coming here. He’s tempted to leave, abandon his drink and drive home and tell Blaine he’ll never walk out on him again, no matter how much Blaine hates him. But he doesn’t. He knows Rachel would force him back out, and he doesn’t want to seem needy. Like he needs Blaine the way he so desperately does. He needs to prove, more to himself than anyone, that he’s okay alone for awhile.

So he sips his drink, trying to take comfort in the blanket of sound, voices chattering excitedly, music drifting from the dance floor, the clatter of shot glasses as they are passed around. After awhile he begins to feel some of the stress ebbing from his shoulders, his headache slowly disappearing, though that might be the alcohol.

“What’s a gorgeous guy like you doing out here alone?” Kurt starts as a voice cuts through the wave of calm that was beginning to envelop him. The owner of the voice sits next to him, tall and blond and dreamy, with big green eyes and golden skin.

“Rough day,” Kurt responds and it’s been so long since he’s had to interact with people that aren’t work and aren’t Blaine that he’s not really sure how to act anymore.

“That’s a shame,” the man says, sounding like he means it. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Kurt nods even though he knows he shouldn’t. He can feel his gut twisting, the thought of Blaine sitting at home, unable to go out even if he wanted to, squeezes his heart until he feels like he can’t breathe but it’s been so long since anyone has bought him a drink. Since anyone has really paid that kind of attention to him.

“I’m Aaron,” the man introduces himself after he orders Kurt another Appletini and Kurt finds himself giving his own name.

“Why did you come over here?” Kurt asks suddenly and knows he’s breaking like every social rule in the book but he doesn’t really care. “Why me?”

Aaron shrugs. “You looked lonely. I wanted to cheer you up.”

Kurt stares into the clear green of his drink. “Do you ever feel like…however hard you try, you can’t get it right? No matter what you do?”

“He can feel Aaron’s eyes looking at him curiously. “Do you have to? No one gets everything right. Not all the time.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything, just stares morosely into his glass. Aaron talks, asking Kurt polite questions which Kurt answers. He’s sweet and charming and everything Kurt could want. Everything he could need and Kurt finds himself imagining a simpler life. After an hour of gentle conversation and daydreams Aaron drops his hand, resting it lightly on Kurt’s leg and everything hits Kurt all at once.

Blaine’s at home, hurting and broken, and Kurt just left him, pawned him off on someone else. Blaine, his fianc�, the only man he’s ever loved, will ever love. Suddenly this man next to him seems so insignificant and Kurt doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t care if Blaine is angry at the world, or at him, he’s the only one he ever wants to be with, damaged or not.

“I have to go,” Kurt says quickly and Aaron withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry.”

And with that he’s gone.

When he gets back home he can hear Rachel singing before he even gets inside. It shouldn’t surprise him, Rachel never changes. What does surprise him is Blaine, smiling and relaxed. Rachel stops when he enters, beaming, her eyes betraying that she’s not surprised to see him back so soon.

“Blaine’s helping me practice,” Rachel explains. “He’s giving me one finger for perfect and two for beyond perfect.”

Kurt smiles, not having the heart to tell her that two fingers actually means the opposite. Means no.

“Now that I have more of an audience, I shall perform the number I’ve been practicing for my next audition,” Rachel doesn’t give Kurt a chance to speak, looking at the couch pointedly for him to sit. He obeys, sitting close enough to Blaine to feel the warmth of his body, but not quite touching, offering space if he wants it. Halfway through Rachel’s ballad (which Kurt has to admit is fantastic) he feels Blaine’s hand move, reaching down and pressing against Kurt’s leg. Unlike the first time tonight, this feels so right and Kurt knows he made the right choice.

As he threads his fingers through Blaine’s squeezing tightly and ignoring Rachel’s triumphant smile, he knows everything is okay. That sometimes even the bad days can become good ones. That he’s right where he belongs.

And he’ll never leave again.