chapter twelve; part two
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
interlude: from the outside looking in
chapter eleven
chapter twelve; part one
Dear Finn,
Thank you for offering to do this. It means a lot to me.
Everything you should need to know will be detailed below, though, if you needed anything else, feel free to phone me, and I’ll do my best to answer.
First of all, don’t panic. Whatever happens, I’ll be back in a few days.
This is going to be strange for Blaine - something new, and I don’t know how well he’ll react. If he ever becomes tense, or angry, or panicked for whatever reason, take him to the music room, get him started on playing something. If it becomes urgent, start singing right then and there, and make it an old song, something he’ll know. If in doubt, resort to One Hand, One Heart. That should help him to relax.
The music is also good for Blaine generally. So get him to play during the day, whenever.
Second, Clare (his doctor - you met her at the hospital) has said to get Blaine writing in his diary as much as possible, particularly over these few days. She’s not due for a visit, but her number is right by the phone if you need it.
Thirdly, I didn’t know how you’d feel about sharing a bed with Blaine, but he needs to be kept close at night, in case he wakes up and wanders out. There’s a chance of that happening, and if he gets out onto the road, it won’t be good. Anyway, if you don’t want to share the bed with him, if you’re uncomfortable with that in any way, I’ve left a made-up mattress and some bedding in the spare room. Feel free to take that into our room and sleep on the floor. That should be okay, comfortable enough. As long as you’re with Blaine. You don’t need to stay with him for the whole twenty four hours - if he’s sleeping during the day, you can leave him, but don’t leave the house without him.
Finally, keep calm. No matter what happens, don’t fret, don’t lose control, because otherwise that will affect Blaine too.
Here’s a shorter version:
- · Music when he gets anxious
- · Keep playing during the day
- · KEEP CALM
- · Keep diary
- · Sleep in bed in room
- · Clare’s no. by phone
I know I’m asking a lot of you here, but you’re the only person I trust to take care of him as well as he needs.
I’ll see you in a few days.
All my love,
Kurt
-
Finn waves goodbye to Kurt on the doorstep, while Blaine stands behind him, asking where Kurt is going.
But then Kurt’s out of sight, and Finn’s turning back inside to make them both a drink, and the only sound is Blaine, asking where Kurt is now.
-
“Blaine, once we’ve finished our drinks, do you want to write in your diary?”
“What diary?”
“Kurt said you have a diary. That you write in.”
“Where is Kurt?”
“He’s gone away for a while.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Kurt’s brother, Blaine. Finn.”
“Where is Kurt?”
Finn sighs, and returns to sipping his coffee. Within a few moments, Blaine does too.
-
Finn finds the diary on the desk in the bedroom, a pen tucked beside it, the pages covered in a sprawl of ink, a few words scattered between the scars.
He offers the pen to Blaine, who settles.
“What should I write?”
“I don’t know. What do you normally write?”
“I haven’t written anything before.”
“Just write something. The first thing in your head.”
There’s silence as the pen scratches a sloping cursive.
Hurry here, sweetheart, faster than the speed of light.
-
Finn’s never played jazz before on the drums. He hasn’t really sung jazz before either.
Not until now.
They’ve dusted off the drum kit in the corner - the air still tastes of it a little - and now Blaine’s at the piano, weaving a labyrinth through his own world of music; the straight lines of chords, the twists, corners, of a right-hand melody and the directions of the lyrics, while Finn adds in the harmonies, some obstacles with a slow drum beat.
It’s old blues and rhythms and woven into the fabrics of their very selves, music which touches the unhealed nerve endings within the human soul, tied together with the light sparks of vibrancy and happiness and electricity.
They begin at 2.14 in the afternoon, with sunlight filtering in the dusty window, diffused around the room.
They don’t stop until 5.47. Finn swears they’ve only been in there half an hour.
-
The phone rings at 8.55 in the evening.
Finn answers as fast as he can, careful not to wake Blaine upstairs.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is that Finn?”
“Yeah - wait, how do you know my name?”
“Kurt told me. I’m Clare, Finn. Blaine’s doctor.”
“Oh, hi there. Kurt mentioned you.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. Why are you phoning?”
“Is Blaine okay? - Yes, darling, I’m coming in a minute. I’m just checking on Blaine. Yes, I’m ready! - Sorry, my husband, we’re going out tonight now I’ve finally got the chance in my work schedule. Anyway, how is he?”
“Fine. Sleeping. We played a lot of music today.”
“That sounds nice. What else have you done. What did you do when you first got here?”
“We had a drink, some coffee. And we spoke a little. I never knew how hard talking to him would be. Well, I guess I did know, but since I haven’t seen him for ages I sorta forgot. And I got him to write something, and we had lunch, then yeah, we did our music, had some more food and he went to bed.”
“No trouble?”
“Not really.”
“What did he write?”
“Something about Kurt, I think. He kept asking about Kurt. Something like come here faster than the speed of light.”
“Sorry, I have to go now, but it was nice to talk to you. Speak to you soon, maybe? Phone me if you can now, bye Finn!”
She cuts the line in a hurry.
-
That night, Finn moves the mattress into Kurt’s bedroom, drags the duvet along the landing, positions himself by the door, checks Blaine once, and falls asleep quickly.
-
The next day is what Finn has been dreading.
-
Finn wonders, at one o’clock in the afternoon, why Blaine hasn’t come down for breakfast, or lunch as it would be now.
He’s made two sandwiches, eaten one, left the other on the side for Blaine. And they’ve been there for at least an hour. He’s already had to bat flies away from them, and closed the windows to make sure no more get inside, even if it’s now too hot.
He goes upstairs to check.
-
Oh shit what do I do?
-
Blaine’s sat in the corner of the bedroom, and he’s crying and crying and Finn’s sure he has no idea what he’s doing, and his knees are tucked to his chest and he’s rocking back and forth, catatonic, and it’s like every single element of the world he’s ever known is falling down around him and all he can say is I want Kurt I miss Kurt come back Kurt where are you Kurt Kurt Kurt.
Finn tries to approach, to get him to look up, and all thought of singing to him flies from his mind when their eyes meet and Blaine’s are threaded with red and shining with sadness, and then a smattering of tears blinds him again and he returns to rocking, banging his head against the wall in a beat like footsteps on deadwood. Finn tries to speak but everything just sounds hollow and empty and nothing’s right and every sentence he forms breaks down in front o him like building blocks as Blaine knocks them over without awareness.
He tries to imagine what Kurt would do here. Fluttery, graceful, hummingbird Kurt, who’d know how to stop Blaine tearing himself apart - and how many times would he have had to stop Blaine tearing himself apart, Finn wonders in the cold mist of thoughts - who’d take Blaine in his arms and hold him until he stopped crying.
The first stretch of fingers is a little awkward, a little tentative, and the, “Blaine, hey, don’t do that” is hesitant at best, and Blaine doesn’t respond, just keeps crying shouting whispering for Kurt in a voice that scrapes like sandpaper.
I can’t be Kurt. But I can do my best to be like Kurt.
And Finn lifts Blaine’s head up, cups it at the back where he can feel a blazing patch of heat where it’s been knocked so many times, used as a weapon against his own thoughts, and tells him it’s okay. It’s okay and Kurt’s coming back home soon and it’s okay and you’re okay and everything’s going to be okay, okay?
All Blaine says is, “I want Kurt” before falling into Finn’s arms, burying his face into the folds of Finn’s shirt and Finn can feel the wet there, but he doesn’t mind as he focuses solely on rocking Blaine gently in his arms, so tiny childlike and when there’s no more noise no more tears, he lifts Blaine up and hides him under the covers of the bed once more, where he can seek solace in dreams.
-
Blaine comes back downstairs at four, and asks where Kurt is, but there’s no trace of sadness left in his tone.
-
Finn can’t sleep that night.
All he can hear is Blaine, Blaine pleading for Kurt as he drowns, one last wish before he descends back into the nothingness from which he came.
He supposes it’s worth it, however, when Blaine stumbles out of bed at some time past one in the morning, and heads for the door.
“Woah, wait up there, Blaine. It’s night. Go to sleep, okay?”
Blaine mumbles something unintelligible, slips beneath the covers once again.
-
When he wakes up the next morning, Finn is relieved to notice Blaine asleep and peaceful, and even more relieved to note that today is the day when Kurt comes home.
-
Blaine’s in a better headspace today. One not filled with wire and shrapnel or the litter of a No Man’s Land.
He asks about Kurt, but most of the time he keeps to himself. Quiet, a little more withdrawn, but content enough.
-
They’re in the music room later when Finn comes to a realisation.
The music is spiky and staccato and upbeat, and they combine the cello with the drums just to see what happens, and even if Blaine doesn’t know what he’s truly doing, his eyes, his smile, his laugh, all bright and beaming and glowing in the light , they all remind Finn of the sixteen year old who performed at Sectionals, Regionals, whose orchestra concert he attended once at Kurt’s command, who joined them at Nationals and who joined them in celebration.
And Finn sees that you can lose everything about yourself, but still be yourself.
Because Blaine is still Blaine. The Blaine that Kurt loves, who Kurt married, when Finn was one of the best men at the wedding, and whom Kurt has stayed by the side of through everything, unfailing, unfaltering.
-
From: Kurt
Will be back late. Just set out. Maybe not until 11 or midnight or even later. Go to sleep. Don’t stay up. I’ll see you tomorrow.
-
And so Blaine goes to sleep, and Finn stays up a little later, watches TV for a bit, catches up on the news without really paying much attention - just wanting to hear the sports results.
He goes upstairs at eleven, retrieves his pyjamas from the bedroom, takes a shower, changes, brushes his teeth.
And when he gets back to the bedroom
Blaine is gone.
-
Finn searches the house.
Blaine can’t have gone far. No. He was away, what, half an hour in the bathroom?
And he would have heard, seen Blaine before, right?
But when he runs downstairs, breathing harsh, the clock reads near Midnight and the front door is open.
-
There he is.
There.
Finn can see him in the distance, beyond the gate.
“Blaine! Blaine! Come inside!”
It’s near pitch-black, the streetlight flickering, and Blaine turns but doesn’t move, isolated.
Finn slips on his shoes quickly, runs across the gravel, calling for Blaine who doesn’t move, even when Finn reaches the roadside and a pair of headlights speeds towards them down the road -
chapter thirteen