chapter eighteen
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
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
By the time the paramedics have arrived, Blaine is a mess.
No matter how hard they try, they can’t prize him from Kurt, his fingernails leaving their bites in his skin, and they end up having to give him twenty milligrams of Haloperidol to calm him down.
Only then do they check Kurt over, note a loss of breath, a stopped heartbeat and pronounce that he was dead on arrival at the scene, that there was nothing they could do, that CPR would have been of no use. It’s all horribly clinical and standardised. There’s no feeling behind it.
They place Kurt in the ambulance first, Blaine second.
-
When Blaine comes round, everything is too loud. The machines, the buzz from outside the room, even just the harsh glowing of the walls under the lights and the lights themselves.
He’s awake.
It says in his notes he’s with Dr Smith. Can you get her down here?
Oh, so this is her Blaine? Does that mean the other man who came in with him - that was his husband? What’s his name? Anyway, she won’t know. She’s on shift.
Call her. We’ll tell her.
“Tell who what? Where am I? I don’t like it. I want Kurt. Where’s Kurt?”
The two nurses exchange glances. Both make to leave the room, not wanting to be left alone with him, but only one manages to leave.
-
Clare is in her office when there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in - oh, hello Lauren. I thought you were on shift now.”
“Something’s happened. It’s Blaine.”
“Where is he? Is Kurt with him?”
“He’s in the emergency room. Come down, please.”
-
They stop just outside Blaine’s isolation.
“Clare, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about Kurt. There’s been an - accident. They think it was a car. He was long-dead before they got there, hours, they think. Blaine was a mess. I don’t think he understands - ”
Dr Smith’s gaze is translucent. She takes a breath.
All she can say is, “let me see him.”
-
But it’s useless.
By the time she can go in, Blaine’s asleep again.
“I’m sorry. I had to sedate him again. He was upset - I couldn’t - ”
Clare notices Molly’s nursing a large cut across her forearm, holding gauze over it to stem the bleeding.
“Did he - ?” she asks, gesturing towards it.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just had to, Dr Smith. I didn’t give him a large dose - just enough to calm him. He should be awake soon. You can stay here if you want.”
“I will. But let me see to your arm first.” Something clinical. Something basic. Something to distract her. Something to take away the pain for a few minutes.
-
Lauren takes the responsibility of phoning Mr Smith, to get him to the hospital, sensing Dr Smith’s safety net slowly coming away from beneath the fine line of calm she’s treading on.
“Hello? Is that Mr Smith?”
“Yes, yes it is. Who’s speaking?”
“Lauren - Lauren from the hospital?”
“Yes, oh yes! Hello Lauren, why are you calling?”
“It’s about Dr Smith - Clare. She’s had some bad news and she’s taking it as well as she can, but I don’t think it’s quite hit her yet, and having you there - it might help her.”
“Okay. I’ll come down there.”
“She’s in the emergency room. I’ll meet you when you get down here.”
-
Alistair Smith won’t admit it to himself, but he’s scared.
There’s a tension in him tightening like a climber’s knot as he walks the twenty minutes from their apartment to the hospital.
The thought of his wife peering over that edge of - he doesn’t know what - fear? Despair? Grief? It makes him more worried than he’ll ever tell himself he is.
-
Lauren meets him in reception, takes him through to a private room.
“You know Clare’s friends? Kurt and Blaine?”
“Blaine as in the one she wrote the paper on? The one with the memory thing?”
“Yes, that Blaine, and his husband, Kurt. They were in an accident. Blaine’s okay - she’s with him now. But Kurt’s not.”
“Did he die?” The question is harsh and jarring, asked without thinking in a flash of curious concern.
“Yes. At the scene. They don’t quite know what yet, but it was a car. Some bleeding. Massive internal injuries. Maybe brain damage. But the end result was the same.”
“Now what?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
-
In half an hour, Alistair goes and gets two paper cups of tea from the machine located for visitors in the reception, and sits sipping it in the waiting room until it becomes tepid and he pours the remaining quarter in the bin, leaving the full one for his wife on the table for when she comes in.
“Hey,” he whispers, his voice oddly quiet. She answers with a weak smile which doesn’t reach her eyes. “I got you a tea. Thought you could use it.”
“Thanks.” She takes a seat next to him, takes a sip of the drink, then pushes it away again.
“How’s Blaine?”
“He’s okay. Calmer. But I don’t know what he’s going to do now.” He reaches over, takes her hand, and she starts to cry. “He-he just looks so lost in there, without K-K-Kurt, and he’s got no one left and there’s no one to look after him now and I don’t know what to do because Kurt said not to put him in one of those homes please we can’t let that happen - ” A sudden wild glint flashes in her eyes, a sign of madness that makes complete sense to her, and she takes a phantom breath before bursting back into a stream of thought, “ - we could look after him couldn’t we we could move to his house or he could move to ours and we can care for him can’t we I could even quit work anything please we can’t leave him alone please please - ”
Her voice is like gunfire and she claws at his shirt like an animal begging for rescue, for its wounds to be healed and cared for before being released back into the wild; the alternative is leaving it there to die. Her strength drains fast however, and eventually she’s just left in the cold, draining sunlight filtering through the dirty window somewhat shredded.
-
Later, when she’s had a little sleep, he’ll tell her no, that she’s being silly. That they can’t look after Blaine and that she’ll need to find another solution.
He’ll stroke her hair as she cries silently, hold her as night spreads like a drop of spilled ink, but tell her it’s no good.
She can’t do anything now.
-
The thing about humans is that we have all these feelings.
Ekman picked out six basic emotions: anger, disgust, fear, joy, sadness and surprised.
But we’re so much more than that.
We’ve got these incredible ideas of pleasure and comfort and closeness and contentment. Of intimacy and warmth and safety and solace and peace and hope.
But then we have these other things; bitterness and jealously and hate and grief and fear and the burning fires of war inside us.
However there’s one feeling we, so human, fear above all. Powerlessness. The desire for control, for order, for safety is so great that when all of that is taken away from us, we feel completely empty. We need a goal, a purpose to be here and when we can’t fulfil what calls us, we feel useless. And when we’re trapped, blocked by things we can’t control, by the overwhelming power of nature, we feel helpless.
-
And then there’s Blaine, lost, lonely as the sea.
And Clare Smith thinks to herself if I can’t help him, if I’m powerless, then I have failed as a doctor. Blaine, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry that I cannot help you. You don’t deserve this.
-
The next morning, she doesn’t go to see Blaine.
She heads back upstairs, splashes her face with cold water and makes for her office.
-
Her fingers shake as she dials the number.
“Hello?”
“Hey - who is this?”
“My name’s Clare Smith - Blaine’s - ”
“Blaine’s doctor? Oh, I remember you!”
“May I ask who’s speaking?”
“Finn. Kurt’s brother. Is everything okay? You sound kinda quiet.”
“No,no. Finn, can you sit down somewhere?”
“Uh - sure. What’s going on?”
“There’s been an accident. Blaine’s - Blaine’s in hospital.”
“What about Kurt?”
“Finn, Kurt - Kurt didn’t survive.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know, exactly. A car accident. Obviously Blaine can’t tell us anything but they were found at the roadside just by their house, so we can only assume - ”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday. In the early hours of the morning.”
A loud thud.
“Finn, Finn, are you okay?”
“Goddamn it, no! My brother’s dead and I didn’t know! How do you expect me to be okay?”
Anger turns to grief. Neither of them knows what to say.
They sit for a moment, Finn shaking down the phone.
All Clare wants to do is take his hand, to comfort him. Though part of her wonders if all she wants is to feel someone there for her, too. Someone who feels the same.
-
She spends the next half an hour typing furiously at her computer, directing each bolt of emotion into the words.
Dear Mr Harrison...
She prints of the letter, signs it, seals it, drops it off at Harrison’s office and goes back down to Blaine.
-
He’s fine today. A little nervous, but the edge of the overpass is far enough away. He could even go home. Except there’s no one to go home to just yet.
Alistair reaches out to him, offers a hand. Blaine shakes it with a smile, asks where Kurt is, receives no answer.
“I heard you liked music, Blaine.”
“Yes, and so does Kurt. Have you heard him sing? He’s amazing.”
“I’m sure he is,” Clare stresses.
“I used to sing too, when I was younger. I was in my school choir, anyway. Would you let me sing with you, Blaine?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer.
“live in my house, I’ll be your shelter
just pay my back with one thousand kisses
be my lover, I’ll cover you”
Two voices.
“open your door, I’ll be your tenant
don’t got much baggage to lay at your feet
but sweet kisses I’ve got to spare
I’ll be there and I’ll cover you”
And a third voice, slightly more nervous.
“I think they meant it when they said you can’t buy love
now I know you can rent it
a new lease you are my love
on life, be my life”
Clare looks up at her husband and smiles through the words.
Blaine adds a harmony and Clare tries another and it’s a little shaky and a little off-key and doesn’t work in all places and she and Alistair laugh a little in the middle of the melody.
All three take hands.
“Kurt likes that song too,” Blaine tells them when they’ve finished.
-
Clare pulls her husband aside into the reception that evening when Lauren comes to check Blaine over again.
“I’ve resigned.”
“What?”
“No more practising. I want to care for Blaine. It’s what Kurt would have wanted, I’d like to think.”
“But I told you - we can’t. What do you intend to do? Move into his house? Or have him come to ours? You can’t do it, Clare.”
“No, no, not full-time. As much as I can, but Kurt’s stepbrother is coming up here now. He looked after Blaine when Kurt went away a few years ago for a couple of days, and I’m fairly sure he’s the only person Kurt would entrust Blaine to.”
chapter nineteen