chapter sixteen
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
chapter twelve; part two
chapter thirteen
interlude: a long stretch of present
chapter fifteen
Blaine is discharged the following day, and the pair of them are only too happy to be going home.
Now there’s only one more thing left to do before everything is back to normal again.
-
“I’m so, so sorry. I really hoped this would be okay, but I think you saw the other night that it’s not doing him any good. I don’t think we’re going to be able to continue working on this.”
“Don’t be worried, Kurt. Of course we’re disappointed, but Blaine’s wellbeing comes first. And yours too. It’s not a problem. We’ll sort everything out - phone the school and everything. Can we just ask one thing?”
“Yes?”
“If the opportunity arises, we’d like to be able to use some of this footage somehow. There’s some really amazing stuff we’ve got, and, with your permission, even if it just forms a part of a larger documentary - ”
“Of course. Yes, you may. But we don’t want to have any further interest in any kind of filming like this. You can stay here for as long as you need before you can get flights back to England, but no more cameras. I’m sorry.”
“No problem, Kurt. Thank you for letting us into your lives these past few weeks. The experience has been incredible. Blaine’s truly lucky to have someone like you.”
-
Blaine’s spent much of the day asleep, trying to drain the stress of the past couple of days. He has three pairs of socks on, two sweatshirts and another three layers of blankets on top of him in an extra effort by Kurt who’s still astutely aware of the need to keep Blaine warm. Maybe even too warm. But it’s better to be too warm than too cold in a situation like this, right?
The memory of Blaine shivering, so fragile, almost child-like in his arms still haunts him. Sometimes, when Kurt thinks of it, he can even feel Blaine’s frozen hand catch at his throat at his shirt -
-
Matt is heading downstairs from the bathroom when he hears a shuffling coming from inside the main bedroom.
He stops for a moment, waits, and still someone’s moving in there, footsteps erratic like a heartbeat.
And as he pushes the door open, the rhythm falters.
-
Blaine’s staring back at him, flushed deep, the poppies of heat blooming on his cheeks pricked with the tears or sweat or both of rain and his hands are shaking and he just looks so lost. His eyes are like the entrance to a haunted house, and the ghosts within his mind flicker like candle flames through the faded windows. The dust has long since settled, if still stirred now and again, and the cobwebs and cracks and crevasses that grow a little more each day, exposing a little more of the nothing inside -
It’s breathtakingly terrifying.
-
“Kurt, Kurt, you might want to come up here.”
Matt’s voice is harsh against his throat, almost a whisper, nothing that Kurt will hear.
“Where’s Kurt? You’re not Kurt. Where is he? Kurt, Kurt, where are you?”
Blaine’s voice builds and he starts pacing again, his arms wrapped around himself, and there’s a shake in each step.
“Blaine, Blaine, are you upstairs?”
“He’s in the bedroom. Come up here, Kurt, please. I don’t know what to do - shh, Blaine, Kurt’s coming, okay?”
Sure enough, Kurt’s in the doorway as fast as he can get there, pushing Matt out of the way and running over to Blaine who’s pacing again before clinging to Kurt like he’s the only way to stop himself from falling. And, to be truthful, Matt thinks, he probably is.
“He’s burning up, Matt. He’s too hot. He’s confused. Can you go get a glass of cold water? Check the freezer for some ice to put into it too. And run a washcloth under some cold water too. Please - quickly.”
Matt stares for a few seconds before Kurt encourages him away.
Blaine looks into Kurt’s eyes, seeing the red of panic.
“Kurt, Kurt, I just woke up and I don’t know what’s going on and I feel hot and I don’t know where this is please Kurt please I don’t know I want to know why does it feel so funny I don’t like it Kurt please please - ”
Some gentle pulling helps Kurt to take Blaine back over to the bed, to perch on the edge of it together. He undoes the top button of Blaine’s shirt, strips two of the three covers off the bed, waits for Matt to come back with everything he needs, but it’s hard not to try and do more when all Blaine can whisper is helplessness, reaching for Kurt but failing, wracked a little, shaking.
Matt brings up everything they need, James following behind with an “I thought you could use some help.”
Kurt tilts Blaine’s head back, encourages his mouth open, raises the glass to his lips.
“Please, Blaine, try and drink a little of this. It might help you feel better, help you to cool down.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re too hot. It might help you cool down.”
“Kurt - ”
“Blaine, please, just drink a little.”
Blaine’s eyes flutter shut as Kurt tilts the glass to his mouth, lets the water slip between his lips, and Kurt smiles when a little shiver passes through him as he takes the glass away. He takes the washcloth from Matt’s hands, gently presses at Blaine’s forehead and chest before slowly helping him to lie back down, tucking him back beneath the one remaining cover.
“He needs to sleep. Let him sleep. That’s always the best thing for him. There’s no fever; he just feels confused, and maybe the thought of the cold is still somewhere there. I don’t know, honestly. Let’s go downstairs. You get some sleep, Blaine.”
And with a kiss to his cheek, another to his pulse, Kurt leaves Blaine to wear away the last of the pain.
-
Back in the kitchen, Kurt busies himself with the kettle, two coffees and one tea.
“Kurt, I’m very sorry if I sound completely ignorant asking this, but is there ever any chance of Blaine getting better? His memory - I mean. Of course, Dr Cuningham explained it in her book, but I still don’t know much about the condition. Watching Blaine, watching you with him these past few weeks, it’s been eye-opening, but I want to understand a bit more.”
Kurt takes a few moments to answer, throwing the teaspoons into the sink, setting the mugs down on the table, taking a breath.
“In short, no. It’s hard to explain - I can’t say I understand a lot of the theory of it myself. But from the experiences over these years, this is about as best I can do. Essentially, the parts of his brain the virus attacked, the temporal lobe and some of the frontal lobe, are dead. They’re still there, but they don’t work, and they never will. They just exist, completely devoid of any purpose or function. So the memory damage, and the personality damage, it’s permanent, irreversible.”
“Personality damage?”
“You think this is what he was like before? That the rage, the fear, that that was the man I married? No, it wasn’t. It’s not always that bad, as you can tell, but sometimes it still scares me.”
“What was he like before?”
“He was - okay, you remember that morning it first snowed? When we were walking outside and kissing? That was Blaine before. Not always happy, but he’d never let that get the better of him, if that makes sense? He wasn’t perfect, but despite his flaws, he was perfect to me. And I loved him. I still do. It’s just not the same, I guess.”
-
The next day, James tells Kurt they’ve managed to get a flight for the morning after.
“You don’t need us to stay, help look after Blaine?”
“I’ve been going for eight years. I’m sure I can manage a few more. But thank you.”
-
And luckily, Kurt doesn’t think he’ll need it, with Blaine seemingly back to his old self. Or his old self since the illness, as Kurt still refers to it.
He’s a little slow, a little more reserved in his actions, but he’s up and talking to them and playing music again and yeah, he’s going to be fine. No lasting damage for as long as anything can last.
chapter seventeen