Feb. 27, 2014, 6 p.m.
Alphabet Klaine: Cancer
E - Words: 2,330 - Last Updated: Feb 27, 2014 Story: Complete - Chapters: 26/? - Created: Feb 02, 2014 - Updated: Feb 02, 2014 165 0 0 0 0
Nothing else to be said on it. Tomorrow is Daddies. Until then!
"But why?"
"Kurt, its complicated."
"But Daddy, why wont cough syrup work?" Kurt pressed. "It always works for me. I bet if you gave Mommy the right kind–"
Burt sighed and stopped his son in the hall. "Kurt, son, what Mommy has, its not as simple as a cold or that flu you had last year."
"Is it like chicken pox?" Kurt wondered. He swung their joined hands and smiled up at him. "There was a stinky bath and stuff for that. We can get some and give it to her!"
"No, bud, its a lot worse than chicken pox," Burt said gently. "Its called cancer. Its… its very serious, Kurt. The doctors are doing all they can to figure out how to get her better."
"Oh." Kurt frowned at him as Burt patted his shoulder and stood up. "Is Mommy here all alone?"
"Oh, no, theres lots of other people here on her floor. Doctors, nurses, other patients."
"Do they have cancer, too?"
"Yeah, bud, they do." Kurt kept a firm grip on his fathers hand as they headed down the hall and into his mothers room. It was the second week in a row shed been here. Theyd visited every day since and every day Kurt had more questions. He could tell his father didnt know how to answer a lot of them, but it made him feel better to hear him talk about it.
"Mommy! Mommy, I brought a pretty picture today!"
But Kurt froze in the doorway. Another kid was sitting in his spot at his mommys side.
"Oh, Kurt, sweetheart, come here."
Kurt let go of his fathers hand and inched towards the bed. The other kid was in pajamas and a fuzzy red beanie. His eyes were bright and cheerful when he spotted Kurt.
"Hi! Im Blaine! Ive gotta go, Mrs. Hummel! Thanks for the story."
"Of course, sweetheart."
Kurt scrambled onto the bed after the boy left, frowning and with crossed arms.
"Hi," his mother said. She stroked his hair and looked him over. "Why so glum?"
"You called him sweetheart," Kurt said grumpily. "But thats my name. Im your sweetheart."
"Of course you are," his mother said, smiling at him. Kurts frown deepened. She thought he was funny.
"Its not funny. Youre my mommy!"
"Oh, Kurt, theres nobody elses mommy Ill ever want to be," his mother kissed his cheek and stroked his hair. "Youre my perfect, sweet boy. Blaine is just a boy here in the hospital with me. Hes sick, too."
"With cancer?"
His mother looked over his head at his father and then back at his face. "Yes, Blaine has leukemia," she said after a pause. "Hes quite sick. Theres only one other kid here, but shes very little and cant come out to play with him."
"So he comes here?" Kurt asked in wonder. He looked his mother over. She wasnt a little kid or someone to play with. Not anymore, not since she moved here. "Why?"
"He saw you last week," she explained. "I think he thought you were new here, and that hed have a friend. Hes been coming back all week asking about you. I bet," she tapped his nose tip and Kurt giggled, "I bet you and Blaine will be wonderful friends. Hes just your age, too."
"Really?"
"Yup, why dont you go see him for a little bit? Hes in room 206, just down the hall."
"But I wanna see you," Kurt protested. Hs father scooped him up and set him on his feet.
"Go on, bud. Were staying late tonight and well be here all weekend," Burt assured him. "Go on, champ. Let Mommy and Daddy have a little time alone, okay?"
Kurt nodded as he stared at their clasped hands. Mommy and Daddy time wasnt something his parents had much of anymore. Not since his mother had come here to stay. He set off down the hall, slowly looking up at the numbers on the panels on the wall. 214, 212, 210... he continued down until he reached 206. The door was wide open and inside everything was brightly colored and happy. It looked like his own bedroom had been moved into the room. There were bright blankets and toys and a giant stuffed puppy. Power Rangers posters decorated the wall opposite.
"Hi!"
The boy from his mothers room was sitting on the bed, but he beamed and climbed down when he saw Kurt. He was a little taller than Kurt, extremely pale, and his eyebrows were missing.
"How come youve got no eyebrows?"
"Oh, they fell off," Blaine explained awkwardly. He tugged on his beanie and shuffled his feet. "But thats okay cause they were kinda weird and pointy."
"Im Kurt," he offered. Blaine took his hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Do you live here like my mommy does now?"
"Yup, since kindergarten," Blaine said. He adjusted his beanie one more time, then grabbed Kurts hand. "Come on, my daddy got me this new Power Ranger set. Theyre so cool!"
They played for hours, laughing and talking and having adventures as the red and blue rangers. Kurt almost forgot where they were and why he was there until someone rapped on the door. It wasnt a nurse like it had been when theyd first decided on Power Rangers. Instead his father was leaning in.
"Kurt, lets go grab some dinner downstairs, okay?"
"But were in the middle of battling Rita Repulsa," Kurt exclaimed. "Just two minutes, and my pretty heels will crush her face in."
"Kurt." He looked up at the sudden sternness in his fathers voice. "Come on, they close in half an hour. Lets go eat so Blaine can get some rest."
"Its okay, Mr. Hummel," Blaine yawned. His red ranger slipped from his grip. "Im having so much fun."
But his father shook his head and scooped Blaine up. "Nope, its time for you to nap. Your mommys on her way here from work. Get some rest, okay? You and Kurt can play all day tomorrow."
Burt tucked him in as Kurt watched Blaines eyes drifted shut. Blaine was asleep before Kurt could finish putting the action figures away. He took his fathers hand and they headed down to the cafeteria. His father gave him a plate of lasagna and garlic bread and they sat down by the windows.
"Blaine wont be able to play all day tomorrow, will he?"
His father looked up and chewed softly. "No, probably not. He gets tired out really fast, Kurt. Remember when Uncle John and baby Miranda were over for Christmas last year? Remember how she had to sleep a lot? Its kind of like that."
"Oh. Is it like how Mommy has to stay in bed now?"
"Yeah," his father said quietly. "Blaines very sick, Kurt. I know he doesnt act like it much, but he is. He spends most of his days going through all sorts of tests and exams and being given medicines."
"That doesnt sound like any fun," Kurt frowned and pierced a stray lasagna layer with his fork. "Why doesnt he get to go to school and play outside?"
His father sighed. "I wish I had a good answer, bud. You want dessert?"
Kurt shook his head and ate another forkful of lasagna. It wasnt right that Blaine was here. Or his mother. Or any of the other people. They finished up, dropped their dirty plates off, and headed back upstairs.
"Have you ever thought about dying?"
Kurt flinched at Blaines question. It was late November now, only a few days after Thanksgiving. Five months since his mother had come here, since hed met Blaine. Blaine seemed to be the same as ever, but his mother had lost her hair and now her smile. His father was sadder looking than a dog with a droopy face and Kurt didnt have to think about that question to know they werent next.
"Dunno," Kurt mumbled. "Mommy always talked about angels and brightness and stuff. I think its scary. Like the quiet that fills up the house at night and school really early in the morning."
Blaine nodded. "My parents always talk about that kind of stuff, but I think its just an end. Like a basketball game. The buzzer goes off and its over, you know? People can talk about all the different plays and baskets and fouls, but they cant ever have it back again. Not like the first time."
Kurt sniffled and dropped his head onto Blaines shoulder. "Just read the book, will ya? I dont wanna talk about that stuff."
"Okay." Blaine pulled his blanket up to their chests and propped Where the Sidewalk Ends open on his stomach.
On the ninth of December, Kurt said goodbye to his mother for the last time. The funeral was three days later, and his father was a mess worse than any Kurt had ever left in his room. Kurt didnt know what he was supposed to do or why his mother wasnt there anymore. Cancer, sure, but lots of people were sick for a long time with no real problems. His grandpa had had diabetes for more years than Kurt had been alive and he was still okay.
The entire family came down to their house that Christmas and it wasnt until after the New Year that Kurt remembered Blaine. But he wasnt at the hospital when his father took him for a visit. The room had been emptied out. The head nurse said hed been moved to another facility out near Columbus.
Kurt cried himself to sleep all that week and the next. He kept his face buried in his pillows and cried until he thought the hurt had drenched the pillowcase.
Kurt was jittery. After eleven years he was back at Lima Memorials cancer unit with his father. Prostate cancer was what his father had told him four months ago. It had been the bleakest Christmas since the one shortly after his mother had died.
Carole clutched his arm between hers. " Im sure hell be just fine, Kurt. The doctors found it early, remember?"
His father paced in front of them in the little examination room. A dark shirt and blue jeans.
"Dad, I told you not to wear–"
"Kurt, Im barely keeping it together here!"
They snapped at each other for a few moments, and then the doctor entered. It was good news, better news than Kurt had dared to hope for since hed first learned the word cancer a decade ago. His father was ecstatic, hugging them both, prattling on about grandbabies and old people sex. The two of them headed downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch while Kurt found a stairwell and started making his calls. There were a dozen people who had texted him that morning asking to hear as soon as he knew.
"Rachel, hes fine. Hes going to be fine."
She squealed until Kurt had to hang up to save his hearing. Next was Mercedes. Then Mike, Santana… By the time he finished his voice was hoarse and his stomach was growling. He ducked out of the stairwell to follow his father and Carole to the cafeteria only to run straight into someone.
"Oh, sorry. I wasnt paying attention!"
"Its fine. I wasnt– Kurt? Kurt Hummel?"
Kurt looked the young man over. He was around his age, a little younger perhaps. His hair was dark and gelled, his eyes bright, and his eyebrows were impressively pointy. There was something familiar about those, but he couldnt say what.
"Yes? Im Kurt Hummel. Do I know you?" Kurt looked him over once more. Sharp outfit, a neatly tied bow tie, and a smile that gave the moon good competition. "You… I swear I know you from somewhere."
The other man laughed, his smile growing. "It is you! I saw you and your dad upstairs earlier, but I was late. Im Blaine. You probably dont remember me, it was a long time ago and I didnt have any hair."
Kurts mouth fell open. Blaine Anderson. The little boy hed befriended in the hospital all those years ago and had assumed dead not long after. Yet here he was, with hair and muscles and a smile that was melting Kurts stomach to goo.
"Oh my gosh, I thought– but youre here. I thought youd died." Kurt launched himself at the other boy and nearly sent them both to the floor. "Oh, Im so glad to see you again. Howve you been? You said you had an appointment?"
"Just a yearly check up these days," Blaine explained as Kurt stepped back. His cheeks were a bright, handsome pink that make Kurt drop his gaze. "Im been in remission since I was nine. Its a funny feeling, when all your hair starts growing back."
Kurt laughed, a high, silly laugh hed never made before. "You werent lying about the pointy part." He reached out and ran his thumb across one thick eyebrow, then blushed. "Sorry."
"No, its fine," Blaine beamed at him and cleared his throat. "How about you? I didnt think youd ever come back here after… after your mom."
Kurt frowned a little and some of the giddiness seeped out of him. "My dad," he said finally. "He came to visit me in New York over the holidays and said he had cancer. Prostate cancer. Today was his last appointment."
"Hes going to be okay?" Blaine asked. His hand grasped Kurts like it always had when they were boys.
"Yeah, hes cleared," Kurt laughed a little in relief. "God, Ive been so worried. If I lost him, too–"
He was suddenly in Blaines arms again, being hugged tightly. Kurt relaxed into it and sighed against Blaines neck. Missing hugs like this wasnt something hed ever thought about, but he had missed this feeling. It wasnt completeness or the end of loss; it was like he was remembering something from before hed met Blaine down the hall. Something with this boy that always floated through them.
"Hey, lets go get lunch," Blaine suggested. "Celebrate and catch up. What do you say?"
"Absolutely," Kurt agreed. He took Blaines hand again and they smiled bashfully at each other. "So is this your first date with a New Yorker?"
"I bet its your first with a minor," Blaine countered. "Come on. If I remember right, its chicken pot pie day downstairs. I ate that stuff by the pot."