Chapter Text
PROLOGUE:
I Dared Not Move
[April, 2024]
‘Let me lie in the curve of your body tonight, and I will hear you tumble into sleep. I will watch you heal, I will watch you heal with me. I will sing you morning lullabies; you are beautiful, and peaceful this way.’ Morning Lullabies by Ingrid Michaelson
Kurt rubs his eyes tiredly as he wakes abruptly to the sound of his husband getting sick – again. He’s starting to get really worried about Blaine. This is the third time this week that Kurt has woken up to Blaine retching and clutching the toilet. He’s begged and pleaded for Blaine to see the doctor, but his husband is stubborn and keeps telling Kurt that it’s just a stomach bug and that he’ll be fine.
Kurt’s seen Blaine with the stomach flu before and he doesn’t think this is it. Blaine’s been tired all the time, achy, and really emotional. Kurt knows that this isn’t just some illness going around, but he doesn’t want to outright say what he thinks is going on, for fear he might be wrong and just get his hopes up.
He blinks rapidly at the faint grey light of the morning as it bleeds through the navy sheer drapes hanging over the large window in their room. He glances bleary eyed at the clock, which blinks 5:42AM. Sighing he throws the warm covers off of his body, turning the large lamp on the nightstand on, and quickly pads into the bathroom that connects to their bedroom. The sight that greets him makes him second guess his decision to go to Paris this week for work. Blaine keeps telling Kurt what a great opportunity it is for him and that he’ll be fine, but Kurt can’t stand the thought of leaving Blaine alone and sick(he reminds himself to not use the other word, tells himself Blaine hasn’t even taken a test yet) for a seven whole days.
He kneels down behind Blaine and rubs circles into his back, waiting for his body to relax. A minute passes and Blaine coughs, reaching a heavy hand up to flush, and then slumps down into Kurt, warm and sweaty. Kurt kisses the side of his head and brushes back wet curls from his husband’s forehead with a cool hand.
“Promise me if this keeps up while I’m gone, you’ll see the doctor, babe.”
Blaine groans, tries to hide his face in Kurt’s chest, but Kurt clicks his tongue and lifts Blaine’s chin with a finger.
“Promise me, Blaine.”
Blaine sighs and grumbles, “Fine, I promise, you worrywart.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, presses a kiss to Blaine’s flushed cheek, and then helps him up. He leans against the wall and waits while Blaine brushes his teeth. He smiles at his husband when he finishes and grabs his hand, tugging him back into the bedroom. Blaine shuffles behind him, wrapping his arm around Kurt’s waist and resting his head against Kurt’s back with a sleepy sigh. When they reach their large dark oak bed, Kurt gently pushes Blaine onto it and watches in amusement as the man flops down among the powder blue sheets, reaching for Kurt with a pout.
Kurt ignores him and instead tucks Blaine’s limbs in, covering his lax body with the sheets, making sure to lay the knitted blanket his grandmother made him when he was a child over him as well. Blaine smiles sleepily up at him, snuggling into the bed.
Before he climbs back into bed with Blaine, Kurt makes his way to the window and closes the thicker curtains, blocking out the light. The room is now dark save for a glow emitted from the lamp. Blaine sighs contentedly and reaches over to click the light off, turning on his side and waiting for Kurt to slide in behind him.
When he does, Blaine lazily grabs for Kurt’s hand, tugs it over his waist, and falls back to sleep with a content smile.
-
Two days later, Blaine’s world falls apart at the seams.
“We’re very sorry for your loss.” They tell him, their eyes sympathetic.
“There’s no way he could have survived the crash.” They inform him, their hands either clasped together formally or hidden beneath pockets.
Blaine has to take deep breaths, his vision starting to cloud with tears, heart pounding like a drum within his chest. His – his husband, his Kurt, is dead. He can’t even bury him because they either couldn’t find his body, or it was too ruined by the plane crash that killed him to identify.
He slumps forward and holds his head in his hands, elbows bracketed on his knees, but just as quickly as his body goes limp he bolts upright as his stomach lurches. He runs to the bathroom with a hand covering his mouth and drops to his knees as he empties the contents of his stomach. Blaine doesn’t remember how long he’s stuck in the bathroom heaving, crying, and trying to make sense of this new, devastating information.
When he returns to the living room on shaky legs, his guests have left and the room suddenly feels too cold and empty.
Blaine sits down numbly, letting the silence descend upon him for what seems like hours, until finally, he reaches for his phone with a trembling hand. Dialing Burt’s number, he brings the phone to his ear, listening and waiting for his father-in-law to answer, brushing his thumb across his wedding ring, translucent tears dropping like pearls onto the metal in stillness.
-
Cooper holds his hand at the service. There’s no body to bury, but Kurt wouldn’t have wanted that anyway. His brother speaks for him, reading words off of a wrinkled paper smudged with ink where Blaine’s salty tears invaded the swoops and swirls of his words.
When it’s all finished, Blaine feels empty, lost, and faintly nauseous – though that last one he’s been feeling for a while now.
He’s reminded suddenly of that precious morning not even a week ago; Kurt had taken such care of him, so gentle and worried, when Blaine had awoken early in the morning, his stomach rolling.
The service is a blur to Blaine, and when it finally ends in a haze Cooper tucks him into his side as they walk to the car.
“You doin’ okay, squirt? You look tired.”
Blaine sighs, looking away when they pass Burt and Carole, silently thanking Cooper for forgetting to wear his overwhelming cologne today as he breathes in against his brother’s side.
“I lost dad last year, lost K-Kurt… I -I need Kurt, Coop… I feel like I have nothing, like I am nothing, not without Kurt. I need him, and I can’t have him, so no, I am not okay.”
He’s not sure he’ll ever be okay.