Hobbit
Feb. 17, 2012, 12:40 p.m.
The Dreams In Which I'm Dying
But the nights are difficult. The nights are when he has to face Blaine, and the nights are when Blaine tries to fix him.
M - Words: 1,385 - Last Updated: Feb 17, 2012 381 0 0 0 Categories: Angst, AU, Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Tags: character death,
Author's Notes: or as I like to call it: this is what happens when you lock me out of tumblr after I get done reading angst.
Two days.
Ten hours.
Twenty four seconds.
He wonders when he’ll be done crying.
He wonders when he’ll be able to get up and face the world without a head bowed from guilt and a monster clawing at his heart.
He wonders if he ever deserves to walk around again, free.
A little voice in his head whispers that he doesn’t.
____
“Kurt, you need to get up. You need to do something with yourself,” his dad tells him over the phone.
Kurt thinks to himself, Life’s too short to even care at all.
He considers telling his dad that, but he doesn’t think Burt will get it. So he settles for sighing and rolling over onto his stomach, staring at the hole in his bedroom wall as he lies to his father for the first time in years.
“I’ll get out today, okay? I promise.”
____
He promises a lot of things to a lot of people.
I promise to get up.
I promise to work.
I promise to write.
I promise to get better.
Each time a promise breaks, he knows he should feel guilty, but all he feels is nothing.
He just doesn’t care.
____
Santana is the one that comes by after the first two weeks are up, and her eyes are red from crying, but her mouth is set in a thin line. She looks around his dirty bedroom with disgust and picks him up from his bed by the arm.
“You need to take care of yourself, Hummel,” she says to him as she forces him to shower, “I don’t have the time to come watch you everyday.”
“So don’t,” Kurt says, “I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
Santana ignores him.
Because that’s what you do when a small child tries to act too old.
____
Finn calls him a lot, but Kurt ignores him. It’s easy to ignore Finn, because his step-brother never feels like he has a right to press.
Sometimes, Finn will text him.
I miss you, bro.
Whenever he gets a text, he deletes it, and wanders out of his apartment for more alcohol.
____
He drinks a lot and sometimes he thinks that he should stop, except when he stops he hates him.
When he drinks, he hates himself, too.
But at least when he drinks, his own opinions don’t matter anymore.
____
One month.
One day.
Two hours.
Twenty seconds.
His father knocks down the door of Kurt’s apartment and drags his son away from the toilet, flushes the contents away, and then turns to him. He’s nothing but a shell on the floor, waiting for life to do whatever the hell it wants. He doesn’t even react as his father holds him close and cries.
Doesn’t even protest as Burt packs his bags.
Doesn’t blink an eye as Burt packs his things into the car, helps him in, and then drives away.
____
It’s not easier at his dad’s house.
Because Blaine’s there.
He’s there when Kurt is tired.
He’s there when Kurt is sad.
And even when Kurt does his best to drink or sleep him away, he’s there when Kurt wakes up, curled around him, whispering songs into his ear.
“Go away,” Kurt tells him one night, but Blaine just smiles into the dark.
“Get better.”
____
They think it’s that easy.
Tell him to get better and he will.
But it’s not.
Oh, he tries, because Blaine asks. No…Blaine begs. Blaine gets down beside him while he’s vomiting into the toilet and rubs his back and begs.
____
His father brings him to a shrink.
“You need help, Kurt.”
Kurt stares out the window, frowns at the trees passing by, wonders when everything in Ohio turned so grey.
“I don’t need help, Dad,” he murmurs, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of everything.
That happens a lot.
____
“You’re not drinking tonight,” Blaine says.
Kurt tries to shake his head, except not drinking hurts, and he gives up trying to exercise any control over his body.
“The doctor…the doctor told me to stop.”
“So you’re listening to what everybody says now?” Blaine asks, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside him.
“I don’t have anything better to do.”
____
Three months.
Two days.
Fifteen hours.
Five seconds.
Sober for one week.
Seven measly days.
But they take him out to celebrate anyway. Kurt thinks it’s because they don’t have anything else to congratulate him on, but he doesn’t say that. His father is smiling for once, Finn is relaxed for once, and if being excited about seven days is what brings them to this point, Kurt will let them have it.
____
“Seven days. Only seven days, Blaine,” Kurt whispers as they fall into bed together.
Blaine holds him tight.
“It’s better than nothing.”
____
Whenever Kurt complains, Blaine is there.
So is everyone else, but their faces have blurred together. They’re just one massive thing trying to fix him with clumsy hands, but Blaine knows how to put him together. And Blaine is fine with doing it slowly, taking it one day, one week, one month at a time.
Kurt tries to thank him for that, but Blaine just smiles and shushes him.
____
They all think he’s getting better, because it’s been a month since he’s turned to alcohol, a month since he’s mentioned being sad and empty and wanting death.
They all want to know what got him there, but Sugar is the only one brave enough to ask.
“Blaine,” he tells them truthfully.
They all fall silent and look at him closely. The silence is uncomfortable.
Finally, Rachel nods to herself, as if it all makes sense and says, “Carole, can you pass the salt, please?”
____
The days get easier.
They all start to leave him alone.
But the nights are difficult. The nights are when he has to face Blaine, and the nights are when Blaine fixes him, and it’s not easy anymore. The pieces don’t all fit.
“You need to stop,” Kurt whispers one night, but Blaine just shakes his head.
“I can’t.”
____
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.
“Kurt, you can.”
He looks up, takes a second to wonder how he got to his shrink’s office, before shaking his head.
“I’m tired. I can’t.”
____
“I’m done,” he says, but he’s alone in the bathroom.
Everyone is out of the house and they all trust him enough to leave him alone.
Kurt wonders if they’d be stupid enough to leave him alone if they had been to his last few meetings.
He opens the medicine cabinet, pulls out a random collection of pills (some are his, some are his father’s, some are sleeping pills). When he closes the mirror, he can see Blaine over his shoulder, and he’d be surprised by the man’s sudden appearance, but Blaine’s taken to sudden appearances.
“I’m done,” he repeats, but this time he’s talking to Blaine.
Blaine shakes his head, reaches out, and even though he should be touching Kurt, there’s no contact.
“Kurt…”
“I’m sorry, you know,” Kurt says as he unscrews the caps, pours pills into his hands like they’re candy, “For all of it,” he adds, looking over his shoulder.
“Kurt…don’t…”
His hand is shaking now and he looks into the mirror, glares at Blaine.
“What else can I do?”
“Get better.”
“I can’t!” Kurt shouts and his face is red and ugly and twisted, but he doesn’t care. He’s stopped caring about his outward appearance a long time ago.
“You can.”
“Not if you’re here!” Kurt exclaims, “If you’re here, I can’t get better.”
Blaine is silent. He looks like a kicked puppy, but Kurt doesn’t feel sorry for him.
“Being here isn’t my choice,” Blaine says at last.
Kurt’s hand closes in a fist around the pills and he bows his head, sobs openly over the sink, “I know, I know,” he cries, “It’s me. I know. It’s me again and again and again but maybe…if I took these…you’d go.”
“But you’d be gone, too.”
Kurt looks at his hand and shrugs.
“I don’t want you here, because you don’t belong here. As of four months ago yesterday, you don’t belong here. But I can go wherever you are.”
Blaine shakes his head, “You won’t like it.”
Kurt looks up in the mirror, but Blaine is gone, and he wonders if it’s his last attempt to save him. He shakes his head, because if his last chance to save Blaine didn’t work, who says Blaine’s last chance gets to work?
He stares at the pills in his hand for a moment before he takes them, leaning his head back against the wall when they’re all gone.
The blackness pushes in on him and he takes a moment to close his eyes and do his best to smile as he speaks to the air, and the presence that is probably his Blaine, “You’re there, honey. So I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
Ten hours.
Twenty four seconds.
He wonders when he’ll be done crying.
He wonders when he’ll be able to get up and face the world without a head bowed from guilt and a monster clawing at his heart.
He wonders if he ever deserves to walk around again, free.
A little voice in his head whispers that he doesn’t.
____
“Kurt, you need to get up. You need to do something with yourself,” his dad tells him over the phone.
Kurt thinks to himself, Life’s too short to even care at all.
He considers telling his dad that, but he doesn’t think Burt will get it. So he settles for sighing and rolling over onto his stomach, staring at the hole in his bedroom wall as he lies to his father for the first time in years.
“I’ll get out today, okay? I promise.”
____
He promises a lot of things to a lot of people.
I promise to get up.
I promise to work.
I promise to write.
I promise to get better.
Each time a promise breaks, he knows he should feel guilty, but all he feels is nothing.
He just doesn’t care.
____
Santana is the one that comes by after the first two weeks are up, and her eyes are red from crying, but her mouth is set in a thin line. She looks around his dirty bedroom with disgust and picks him up from his bed by the arm.
“You need to take care of yourself, Hummel,” she says to him as she forces him to shower, “I don’t have the time to come watch you everyday.”
“So don’t,” Kurt says, “I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
Santana ignores him.
Because that’s what you do when a small child tries to act too old.
____
Finn calls him a lot, but Kurt ignores him. It’s easy to ignore Finn, because his step-brother never feels like he has a right to press.
Sometimes, Finn will text him.
I miss you, bro.
Whenever he gets a text, he deletes it, and wanders out of his apartment for more alcohol.
____
He drinks a lot and sometimes he thinks that he should stop, except when he stops he hates him.
When he drinks, he hates himself, too.
But at least when he drinks, his own opinions don’t matter anymore.
____
One month.
One day.
Two hours.
Twenty seconds.
His father knocks down the door of Kurt’s apartment and drags his son away from the toilet, flushes the contents away, and then turns to him. He’s nothing but a shell on the floor, waiting for life to do whatever the hell it wants. He doesn’t even react as his father holds him close and cries.
Doesn’t even protest as Burt packs his bags.
Doesn’t blink an eye as Burt packs his things into the car, helps him in, and then drives away.
____
It’s not easier at his dad’s house.
Because Blaine’s there.
He’s there when Kurt is tired.
He’s there when Kurt is sad.
And even when Kurt does his best to drink or sleep him away, he’s there when Kurt wakes up, curled around him, whispering songs into his ear.
“Go away,” Kurt tells him one night, but Blaine just smiles into the dark.
“Get better.”
____
They think it’s that easy.
Tell him to get better and he will.
But it’s not.
Oh, he tries, because Blaine asks. No…Blaine begs. Blaine gets down beside him while he’s vomiting into the toilet and rubs his back and begs.
____
His father brings him to a shrink.
“You need help, Kurt.”
Kurt stares out the window, frowns at the trees passing by, wonders when everything in Ohio turned so grey.
“I don’t need help, Dad,” he murmurs, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of everything.
That happens a lot.
____
“You’re not drinking tonight,” Blaine says.
Kurt tries to shake his head, except not drinking hurts, and he gives up trying to exercise any control over his body.
“The doctor…the doctor told me to stop.”
“So you’re listening to what everybody says now?” Blaine asks, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside him.
“I don’t have anything better to do.”
____
Three months.
Two days.
Fifteen hours.
Five seconds.
Sober for one week.
Seven measly days.
But they take him out to celebrate anyway. Kurt thinks it’s because they don’t have anything else to congratulate him on, but he doesn’t say that. His father is smiling for once, Finn is relaxed for once, and if being excited about seven days is what brings them to this point, Kurt will let them have it.
____
“Seven days. Only seven days, Blaine,” Kurt whispers as they fall into bed together.
Blaine holds him tight.
“It’s better than nothing.”
____
Whenever Kurt complains, Blaine is there.
So is everyone else, but their faces have blurred together. They’re just one massive thing trying to fix him with clumsy hands, but Blaine knows how to put him together. And Blaine is fine with doing it slowly, taking it one day, one week, one month at a time.
Kurt tries to thank him for that, but Blaine just smiles and shushes him.
____
They all think he’s getting better, because it’s been a month since he’s turned to alcohol, a month since he’s mentioned being sad and empty and wanting death.
They all want to know what got him there, but Sugar is the only one brave enough to ask.
“Blaine,” he tells them truthfully.
They all fall silent and look at him closely. The silence is uncomfortable.
Finally, Rachel nods to herself, as if it all makes sense and says, “Carole, can you pass the salt, please?”
____
The days get easier.
They all start to leave him alone.
But the nights are difficult. The nights are when he has to face Blaine, and the nights are when Blaine fixes him, and it’s not easy anymore. The pieces don’t all fit.
“You need to stop,” Kurt whispers one night, but Blaine just shakes his head.
“I can’t.”
____
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.
“Kurt, you can.”
He looks up, takes a second to wonder how he got to his shrink’s office, before shaking his head.
“I’m tired. I can’t.”
____
“I’m done,” he says, but he’s alone in the bathroom.
Everyone is out of the house and they all trust him enough to leave him alone.
Kurt wonders if they’d be stupid enough to leave him alone if they had been to his last few meetings.
He opens the medicine cabinet, pulls out a random collection of pills (some are his, some are his father’s, some are sleeping pills). When he closes the mirror, he can see Blaine over his shoulder, and he’d be surprised by the man’s sudden appearance, but Blaine’s taken to sudden appearances.
“I’m done,” he repeats, but this time he’s talking to Blaine.
Blaine shakes his head, reaches out, and even though he should be touching Kurt, there’s no contact.
“Kurt…”
“I’m sorry, you know,” Kurt says as he unscrews the caps, pours pills into his hands like they’re candy, “For all of it,” he adds, looking over his shoulder.
“Kurt…don’t…”
His hand is shaking now and he looks into the mirror, glares at Blaine.
“What else can I do?”
“Get better.”
“I can’t!” Kurt shouts and his face is red and ugly and twisted, but he doesn’t care. He’s stopped caring about his outward appearance a long time ago.
“You can.”
“Not if you’re here!” Kurt exclaims, “If you’re here, I can’t get better.”
Blaine is silent. He looks like a kicked puppy, but Kurt doesn’t feel sorry for him.
“Being here isn’t my choice,” Blaine says at last.
Kurt’s hand closes in a fist around the pills and he bows his head, sobs openly over the sink, “I know, I know,” he cries, “It’s me. I know. It’s me again and again and again but maybe…if I took these…you’d go.”
“But you’d be gone, too.”
Kurt looks at his hand and shrugs.
“I don’t want you here, because you don’t belong here. As of four months ago yesterday, you don’t belong here. But I can go wherever you are.”
Blaine shakes his head, “You won’t like it.”
Kurt looks up in the mirror, but Blaine is gone, and he wonders if it’s his last attempt to save him. He shakes his head, because if his last chance to save Blaine didn’t work, who says Blaine’s last chance gets to work?
He stares at the pills in his hand for a moment before he takes them, leaning his head back against the wall when they’re all gone.
The blackness pushes in on him and he takes a moment to close his eyes and do his best to smile as he speaks to the air, and the presence that is probably his Blaine, “You’re there, honey. So I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”