March, 2013:

“He’s gone, Kurt. You need to let go of his hand.”

Blaine’s hand is cold and clammy to the touch and it feels alien to Kurt. He’s used to warm, knowing hands that could warm him in below-freezing weather and calloused fingers that rub roughly but knowingly against his hand.

Kurt refuses to let go. He squeezes tighter as a hand gently rests on his shoulder.

“Kurt, we should go,” says Burt. Kurt’s eyes sting and his throat tenses as tears reform and he feels misery rise from his chest. The nurses left a few minutes ago, after the doctor called the time of death, and now they need to move him.

“Can- can I just have a couple minutes?” he asks weakly. Burt’s hand slides off his shoulder as he quietly walks toward the door.

“Staying is only gonna hurt more,” Burt pauses as his heartbroken son refuses to let go of Blaine’s hand.

“Please.”

Burt sighs. “Okay. Just two minutes” He walks out, his slow, heavy footsteps the only sound in the room.
The click of the door closing gives Kurt the release to begin sobbing again. He falls to his knees beside Blaine’s bed and looks at him through blurred eyes.

Blaine’s a bit sticky from the cold sweat he had earlier; his curled hair is matted down, sticking to the sides of his face. His lashes are thick but wet and his are eyes closed, hiding what Kurt knows are now lifeless gold eyes. His lips are full and parted, slightly chapped but still pink. He’s got a hint of stubble. If Kurt didn’t know any better, he’d think Blaine was simply sleeping.

But even when Blaine slept, he always held Kurt’s hand tight; right now the only thing keeping Blaine’s hand from hanging over the edge of the bed is Kurt holding it against his lips.

“I know you aren’t gone,” Kurt muffles into Blaine’s fingers. “As long as I can remember you, you’ll never be gone.” He kisses Blaine’s cold hand.

Kurt moves Blaine’s hand from his lips and looks at it in disbelief. “Your hand was warm and dry just a couple hours ago,” he rubs his thumb along Blaine’s knuckles. “Well, alright, it was clammy, but at least blood was pumping through it.”

He looks up at Blaine again; along his jaw is a gash with dried blood splattered around it, and a bruise has formed under his eye. Under Blaine’s torn shirt are other wounds and bruises.

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the hot tears rush down his flushed cheeks. All he can hear is the humming of the heater vent. Even so, everything feels cold. The clean marble floor, the lone window shaking in the icy winter winds, the bare, white walls, and Blaine’s hand, are all frosty.

“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

He stands up and leans forward, gently kissing Blaine’s lips. He half expects Blaine to react, to kiss him back and smile like he always does. But of course he doesn’t.

“I love you, Blaine,” he forces out through tears. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I love you so much, I’ll never love anyone like I love you.” He pauses before repeating, “You’ll never actually be gone, so long as I remember you.”

He wishes for some miracle to happen, for Blaine to somehow let Kurt know he hears him. But all Kurt hears is the door open behind him.

“We gotta go, kiddo,” his dad says softly. He rests his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, but Kurt shrugs it off and spins to face him, his face red.

“And leave him like this?” Kurt asks, his voice rising. “How can I leave him like this? I’m staying.”

“Kurt, we can’t stay, the nurses need to take him away.”

“Away? Away- where? I’ll go with him. He shouldn’t be alone,” Kurt sits next to Blaine, clasping one hand
to the bed’s metal headboard while another bunches the sheets.

“Kurt, I’m sorry, but that’s just going to hurt you more,” Burt says. “Blaine doesn’t know you’re here, he won’t know if you don’t go with the nurses, which you can’t.” He reaches out for Kurt’s shoulder again, pulling him off the bed, into a hug. But Kurt rips himself away.

“Yes he does! Some- somehow he’ll know I left him if you make me go.” Angry, Kurt kicks over the visitor’s chair and makes a move for the trash bin.

“Kurt-”

“No!” Kurt stops and turns to him, his face red with anger.

“Kurt, you have to stop blaming yourself and let-”

“I can’t.”

“Kurt.” Without another word, he pulls Kurt into him. Kurt tries to fight his way out of his father’s embrace, but in his weakened state he gives up and simply collapses into Burt’s arms. He clings to Burt’s soft flannel shirt and breathes him in; something familiar, something alive. They stand there together, Burt holding Kurt close to him in comfort.

Kurt looks back at Blaine’s helpless body lying in the hospital bed as his father leads him out the door and he whimpers with tears. “If he’s gone, why don’t I feel it? I should feel it.”

Burt holds him closer. “I know, bud. Believe me, I know,” he says with a crack in his voice.

“Will I ever feel it?”

Burt stops walking and sighs. “One day,” he says. “One day, you’ll just know that they’re gone. Because you’re so miserable, that you know if they were still here, you couldn’t possibly be so miserable. If they were still them, still here, they would never let you be so sad.”

Kurt looks up at him, his eyes glassy with tears.

“Bodily, Kurt, Blaine is gone. But in spirit, of course you’ll never forget him,” he hears Kurt begin to cry as he finishes. “But one day, you’ll find the strength to move forward with your life, as impossible as that sounds.”

“I don’t think I ever will,” Kurt says.

“One day.”

He wraps his arm around Kurt’s shoulder, holding him to his chest as he leads him down the hall to the waiting room. In the seats by the window, Finn and Rachel wait for him. They’re still in their formalwear from their engagement party earlier that night.

When they see him, they immediately stand and rush to him. Burt lets him go and as he falls forward, feeling lightheaded and unbalanced, they immediately catch him in a tight embrace. They hold onto each other for a few minutes before a word is spoken.

Rachel stands on her toes and kisses Kurt on top of his head. “I wish I knew what to say. I’m so sorry,” she steps away and Kurt sees her mascara-stained cheeks are wet with tears.

Kurt doesn’t respond, unable to control his hyperventilated breathing and tears.

“Kurt, man, we’re all going to miss Blaine, but I know he was your first love, and I can’t even think about how that feels to lose.” Rachel elbows him in the ribs. “What?”

“What Finn means is that we all loved Blaine,” Rachel says, glaring at Finn. “But none of us loved him as much as you did. And we’ll be here for you, whenever you need us, while you deal with all this.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says. He breathing slows.

“Do you want some company tonight?” Rachel asks. “I can just run back to our apartment and grab some things, and I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks,” Kurt smiles weakly. “But I think I want to be alone tonight.” He turns to face his dad, unable to say another word.

“Uh, Rachel, why don’t you and Finn drive the car around?” Burt asks, raising his eyebrows to show them this is a command.

“Oh! Oh, sure,” Rachel says, pulling Finn away.

As soon as they’ve turned the corner to the front entrance, Kurt falls back into him.

“How do I do this?” he finally asks, crying into Burt’s shirt. “How do I keep going without the love of my life? How did you manage to go on with life after mom died?” He turns his head up, hoping for an answer from his father who sighs, unsure of what to say.

“You just… y’gotta keep on living.”

--

Kurt sits on the couch in the dark, huddled in Blaine’s NYU sweatshirt. He stares at the photo of them on coffee table using only the neon orange glow of the streetlights.

They’re happy in the photo; it was taken on the day Blaine graduated from college. Blaine has jumped into Kurt’s arms, nearly knocking him over, grinning that oversized, dorky smile that he only smiled when he was truly and genuinely ecstatic. He’s completely into the hug, his legs kicked up behind him. Kurt’s bent nearly in half backwards, laughing as he tries to support Blaine’s weight.

They look so happy. Like nothing bad could ever happen.

Kurt remembers that day. He had been distant at the time, reluctant, and almost didn’t show up. When he did turn up, Blaine looked miserable as he searched the audience. His smile when he finally saw Kurt was almost as big as the smile in the photo.

That was the night Blaine first told Kurt he loved him.

Kurt tries to sniff back his tears when he hears a knock at the door. He ignores it, but suddenly he hears the lock turning. He jumps around to face the door, terrified.

“Who’s there?” he yells.

The door opens to reveal Rachel, cautiously leaning in. “It’s just me,” she says, gingerly closing the door behind her.

“Rachel, I told you, I want to be alone tonight.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least check on you,” she says quietly.

“I guess you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” Kurt says, sitting up. “Well, you’re all good, I’m alive.” He pauses and lets out a chuckle. “Wow, that’s ironic.”

“Kurt,” Rachel sits next to him on the couch, sure to leave some space. “What happened tonight is so incredibly tragic, but it isn’t your fault.”

“I yelled at him,” Kurt says, his voice rising. “I’m the one who got freaked out and asked to leave so we could talk. If we hadn’t left, then—”

“Kurt,” Rachel pulls forward and holds Kurt, who resists before finally relaxing, close.

“Ironic how it started raining, right?” he asks after a few minutes, pulling away. “In all those sad, romantic movies, when the main guy loses the person he loves, it rains. But you don’t expect it to actually rain in real life when you lose someone.”

Kurt bites his lip as he tries to hold back tears. His voice cracks. “But then again, you never think you’ll actually lose the love of your life.”

He can’t hold back the tears; he hugs his knees close to himself and sobs, before Rachel reaches forward and wraps her arms around him. He moves his face so he’s leaning into Rachel.

“This can’t be real,” Kurt says, his words muffled in Rachel’s jacket. “He can't be gone. How is this real?”

Rachel doesn’t know what to say, and simply holds Kurt close while running her fingers through his hair to relax him.

The only noise is the pattering of the rain against the windowsill and the hum of the dishwasher as Kurt falls eventually asleep mumbling Blaine’s name, his head pounding from the tears. Rachel lays a blanket on top of him and settles herself on the nearby lounge-chair.

He sleeps through the night, and though he doesn’t cry again until morning, the tear-stains never leave his cheeks.