#angst!klaine

[sir-pyllero]

Here

All Kurt can do is watch his husband fall apart as the tries to get his unresponsive body to wake up.

Felt like writing angst...

Future!Klaine

The room was white.

Kurt stared at his own face, as white as the sheets that were as white as the walls. He didn’t feel his own heartbeat but the beeping told him that it was, in fact, beating. The cuts, the bruises, the cast on his leg told him that his body was broken, though he didn’t feel it.

“Wake up.”

It was only a whisper that he managed. His body lay unresponsive, unaffected by the tiny sound.

“Wake. Up.”

How he had ended up in the white room, Kurt could not remember. He remembered a taxi and lots of flashing lights but other than that, nothing. He didn’t remember being in pain or even being scared.

And yet here he was.

The handle of the door clicked. For a second or two, the door stayed closed, but then it was slowly pushed open. Puffy eyed and even paler than Kurt, Blaine came in, visibly trembling.

“Oh, God...”

It was a sob more than words and in the next blink, Blaine was by Kurt’s bed, clutching his hand.

“Kurt...? Kurt, honey, I’m here. I’m here. You’re okay, you’re safe. You’re okay...”

The beeping remained steady though Kurt was sure his heart just broke. Slowly, he moved to stand behind Blaine, hovering as Blaine collapsed onto a chair, every reflex in his wanting to wrap his arms around his shaking husband.

“I’m here, too,” he breathed out.

Blaine kept crying.

--

“He must be so tired.”

Blaine was asleep with his head resting against Kurt’s mattress, his breaths coming out as short puffs.

“He doesn’t know how to use the washing machine. It’s okay, though, I wouldn’t trust him with most of my clothes anyway. He’s quite useless with most of the household chores. He does them, sure, but somehow mopping the kitchen turns into a Cinderfella musical.”

Kurt wasn’t sure who he was talking to. His comatose body most surely wasn’t listening and the empty room didn’t care. But the silence was simply too loud to listen to with the ever-present beeping of his heart-monitor. It was mocking him, telling him he was still alive and yet unable to wake the hell up.

“I love him so much.”

It couldn’t end like this. After everything, now that they were finally there... It couldn’t end like this.

“I can’t leave them.”

Kurt’s hand went right through Blaine’s arm. Blaine jerked awake, “Kurt...?” escaping his lips and Kurt wanted to hug him.

Nothing changed.

--

His dad looked older. Like he had shrunk. He almost seemed weak, as if the universe had finally managed to break him.

Kurt hated the universe.

“Blaine, have you spoken with the doctor?”

“I have.”

“He thinks it’s time to...”

“...to pull the plug. Yeah, he told me.”

“What?!” Kurt shrieked. “No! I’m waking up! I am!”

“You’re not going to.”

“Of course I’m not going to!” Blaine yelled. “I can’t... How would I...? Burt, I can’t. I won’t.”

Burt sighed. Kurt could tell how tired he was just by his posture. “He’s my baby boy,” he said. “He’d argue that he’s too old for me to say that...”

“I’m not.”

“...but he is. It’s not any easier for me to see him like this than it is for you. And I want to believe that he’ll open his eyes any minute now and tell us that we’ve been worrying for nothing but Blaine, the chances are that he won’t.”

Kurt blinked. “Dad!”

“I’ve lost a wife and a stepson that I considered my own and it’s going to crush me to lose him, too. But Kurt wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want to stay like this forever while we waste away waiting. Think of Tracy. He needs you now more than ever! And you haven’t even been home for two days.”

Guilt twisted Kurt’s guts as Blaine closed his eyes, the same emotion twisting his soft features.

“He keeps asking for Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was raw.

“Of course. He misses him.”

“I don’t know what to say to him. He barely smiles anymore and it kills me. He’s so young, he shouldn’t have to...” Blaine’s sentence was broken by a sob that he barely managed to swallow. “I feel guilty when I’m here because I’m not home and I feel guilty when I’m home because I’m not here. I just... I don’t... I don’t know what to do.”

Burt nodded, slowly. “Blaine... It’s the last thing I want, it really is. But maybe you should...”

“NO!” Blaine shouted the same time as Kurt did.

“No, Blaine, don’t,” Kurt said, knowing his words went unheard. “Not yet. I know this is not fair and I want to wake up, I really do. I’m trying. I want to come back to you. To all of you, to you and Tracy, I... I’m not ready to go. Please, please, don’t let me go. Not yet. Not yet. I’ll wake up, I will! I promise. I promise. Please...”

Blaine turned his head and Kurt’s heart jolted when his eyes met his. For a second or two, it was like Blaine could see him.

“Not yet,” Blaine mumbled. “Not yet. He’ll come back to us.”

“Okay,” Burt replied. Kurt wondered if he imagined the relief in his voice. “Okay. Not yet.”

The room was silent after that until Burt left a few hours later, after making Blaine promise he’d come home for the night. Kurt watched as his husband smoothed out the sheets of the hospital bed and rearranged the new bouquets of flowers that had arrived earlier that day. For about an hour or so, he kept himself busy by doing small things before sinking back to the chair that had been his second home for the last three weeks.

“I can feel you right here with me,” he said quietly. “Is that silly?”

“No,” Kurt whispered. “Blaine, I am here. Right here.”

“God, I... I miss you. I miss you so much. Especially when I’m putting Tracy down to bed. That’s our time. I never realized it until now but it’s... it’s that one moment in the day we’re all together even if one of us is not home. Like that time when you were in London. Every night during bed time we’d call you and we sang to him together until he fell asleep. Those 15 minutes it takes for him to fall asleep, we’re always together. Even when we’re not.”

A tear fell on Kurt’s cheek. He missed his little boy like crazy and wished more than anything that he could somehow steal his way to the 2 years old’s dreams and tell him everything would be fine.

“I have to go home tonight,” Blaine continued. “I’ve been a lousy dad.”

“Oh, Blaine, no you haven’t.”

“I hate leaving you alone.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I love you so, so much, Kurt... Please, don’t...”

Blaine didn’t finish but Kurt knew what he wanted to say. He stepped closer to his heartbroken husband and slowly reached out his hand until his fingers were hovering just an inch from Blaine’s shoulder.

“I won’t,” he sobbed out. “I won’t, Blaine. I love you, too.”

Ever so carefully, he let his fingers touch Blaine’s shoulder.

Blaine shivered. “Kurt...”

“Shh. I love you. Go home to our son. Tell him Daddy loves him.”

Blaine stood up. He leaned down to kiss Kurt’s forehead, whispered “I love you,” one more time and then left the room. Kurt followed him to the door, wishing he could walk through it and go home with his husband.

“I have to wake up,” he said. “I have to.”

--

“You once thought of me as a white knight on a steed Now you know how happy I can be...”

Tracy, still teary after a yet another ‘where’s Daddy?’ episode, rested his head against Blaine’s shoulder and yawned. His tiny fingers curled up around the fabric of Blaine’s shirt and his eyes closed slowly as he fell asleep to Blaine’s quiet singing.

“...but how much baby do we really need...?” Blaine sang, carefully lowering the boy to his bed before covering him up. He kept humming under his breath as he knelt down on the floor next to the bed, feeling lonely in a way he hadn’t quite experienced before.

“Daddy loves you, Tracy,” he murmured. “He loves you so much.”

He pushed back some of Tracy’s brown hair off his forehead. Officially, they didn’t know which one was the bio dad but anyone could see Kurt’s features on the boy’s pale face. His nose, his eyes, the shape of his face... He was like a miniature Kurt and Blaine managed an actual smile at the thought of a kindergarten aged Tracy with Kurt mannerisms.

He could only hope Kurt would be there to help him raise their little boy.

--

A week.

Then two.

Kurt had tried everything. He had yelled at himself, stayed quiet, even prayed, begged, and finally cried but his body lay unmoving on the bed with no physical signs of recovery though the doctors kept saying that it was just up to him now.

Kurt hated them for saying that. It wasn’t up to him. Had it been up to him, he’d have woken up weeks ago. Had it been up to him, he wouldn’t put his family, his husband, his son, his dad and Carole, his friends, through the hell they were living in.

It wasn’t up to him.

Kurt didn’t know who it was up to but he was starting to lose the strength to bargain with them anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Blaine,” he sobbed on the day he had been in coma for 7 weeks. Blaine was crying silently into his hands and all Kurt wanted to do was hug him. Instead, he stood a few feet away and cried, too. “I’m so sorry.”

Blaine whispered it, too. And Kurt knew it was time for big, hard decisions.

--

“Blaine...” the doctor sighed. “It’s been nearly two months.”

“I know,” Blaine replied slowly, frowning.

“As hard as it is, we’re going to have to start talking about the fact that your husband might not wake up.”

Blaine shook his head. “Don’t.”

His voice was so tired. So broken and beaten and tears welled up in Kurt’s eyes as he watched Blaine kiss the palm of his unmoving hand.

“You have to let him go.”

“Stop it.”

“Bl...”

“Please... please just go,” Blaine whispered.

The doctor left him alone when Blaine didn’t respond to his one more attempt of an actual conversation. The room was silent except for the beeping of the heart-monitor..

God how Kurt wanted to break it pieces.

“I hate him,” Blaine mumbled suddenly. “He’s right and I hate him. I hate him, I...”

“No, you don’t.”

Blaine sniffed. “No, I don’t.” He buried his face into his hands. “God, Kurt. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this to you. Or Tracy.”

“Or yourself,” Kurt said quietly. “Blaine, honey. It’s okay.” It didn’t matter that Blaine couldn’t hear him, he had things he needed to say. “You gave me time. You believed in me. But this... this is just not up to us.”

“You promised you’d never say goodbye to me.”

“I won’t.”

“I just never thought I’d be the one who’d have to say it.”

Kurt wanted to scream as Blaine broke down completely and started crying. His sobbing drowned the other noises of the room and with each sob, Kurt felt his world crumble a little more.

Blaine’s crying was suddenly interrupted by the sound of his phone binging with a text message. He wiped his eyes and took a quick look before putting it back into his pocket.

“I have a little surprise for you,” he said, his voice raw. As if on cue, the door opened.

“Daddy!”

“Oh God...”

Tracy had grown, Kurt noticed. His hair was longer, too.

And suddenly, Kurt wasn’t so ready to let go after all.

“Daddy! Daddy, Daddy!”

Tracy squirmed out of Burt’s arms and wobbled on his short legs to the bed. Blaine lifted him up and Kurt gasped as he felt the soft touch of the small hand on his cheek.

“Wake up, Daddy! Wake up!”

“I will. I will, baby, I will, I promise, I...”

“Kurt?”

And then Kurt felt the hold of Blaine’s hand, soft and strong, and he squeezed and Blaine nearly fell on his knees.

“Kurt? Kurt, honey, can you hear me??”

Kurt felt oxygen filling his lungs. He felt the soft mattress under him. He felt the weight of his son and his husband’s free hand petting his hair.

He felt his heart beat.

He closed his eyes. And when he opened them, he was looking up instead of down.

He heard his name, he heard Tracy’s young, delighted shrieks, and he wanted to answer, to finally say that he really was still here. He was told to blink by an unfamiliar voice and he did, frowning, and then coughed when commanded and then there was pain in his throat that made him gag and then he could at last turn his head to see Blaine and Burt, with Tracy in his arms.

“...hey...”

“Don’t try to speak. Your throat will be raw for a while,” the unfamiliar voice said and Kurt only obeyed because his throat really did hurt. “...be back in a while.”

“Oh my God, Kurt!” Blaine whimpered as soon the doctor was out of the room, crossing the room to hug him, barely mindful of all the wires Kurt was still attached to. “Oh God, you scared me... You scared me...!”

“I’m sorry...”

“Hey, no, you heard the doc, don’t try to talk,” Burt said, his own voice thick with emotion. “Welcome back.”

Kurt managed a smile. Burt lowered Tracy back down onto the bed. The boy was more careful now as he snuggled his way to his dads’ arms. Kurt heard his dad say “I’ll go tell Carole” and then they were alone, just three of them in the white room.

“I love you.” 

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand to tell him that he knew, that he loved him, too, and that he was there. He was there, he was back, he was awake.

“I figured you wouldn’t leave me alone with that monster of a washing machine.”

Maybe it was stupid but if he had ever, in that moment Kurt believed in soulmates. He shook his head in amusement, hugged his son closer and tugged Blaine into a soft, sweet kiss.

The monitor kept beeping. Kurt didn’t hate it anymore.

--

This has been sitting half-done in my drafts for over a year. Finally got it done.

[kookaburrito365]

Further

PG, 620 words, angst, ill!blaine (as prompted by anon)

When the doctor comes in to announce the results, Kurt grips at Blaine’s hand with such force, that it might break. He’s scared that if he lets Blaine’s hand go in that moment, he might lose his better half forever. And when the doctor begins talking, Kurt absolutely cannot believe those dry and cruel scientific words. His heart is shattering into a million tiny pieces. When the doctor states Blaine’s chance of survival – 55%, Kurt carves that number inside of his chest on every piece of his broken heart, and holds on to it for dear life.

In the next couple of weeks, despite the fact that they try to act natural, their interaction feels as if it’s a fragile dance, too quiet, too careful, too miserable. Kurt absolutely hates it. Hates the disease, hates the fact that there are only stupid numbers and vague predictions that are deciding in this very moment if to take the love of his life away from him. And he can’t do anything about it, not a single thing.

Blaine’s nausea increases day by day, he suffers constant headaches and rests a lot. Kurt often has to leave the room so as not to let Blaine see him cry.

He has never felt so helpless, so useless in his entire life. Sometimes Kurt catches his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes puffy and red from crying, and his reflection almost seems to cruelly smirk at him. You thought you knew pain. You thought you knew fear.

Blaine loses a lot of weight, and Kurt does too, for the nerves. He’s so distraught, that he doesn’t notice Blaine’s concern.

That is, until one day, when he feeds Blaine his favorite spinach soup and accidentally drops the spoon, spilling the green liquid on the candid-white blankets, Blaine stops him. He takes Kurt by the hand, and looks him right in the eyes when he says.

“I understand if you want to leave, Kurt. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. I won’t b-blame you at all.”

“What are you talking about,” it’s not even a question, as Kurt eyes go wide with shock.

“I don’t want you to waste your life taking care of me, especially if I won’t survive,” Blaine states, his eyes sorrowful but serious.

He’s serious, absolutely serious and Kurt feels it like a dagger inside his heart.

“I can’t believe it,” anger flickers for a moment in Kurt’s brain, tears suffocate him inside his throat, “Do you really think I would ever leave you?”

There’s a heavy silence, weighing down on both of them.

“Sometimes I think you should,” Blaine says, his voice barely a whisper.

It’s the last spark that sets Kurt’s soul on fire.

“I love you more than anything, Blaine. I love you so much it hurts. You’re my soulmate,” Kurt’s voice is breaking, with dismay and heartbreak and blinding love, “I will be there for you, forever, no matter what y-you say. I will do anything for you, even if it means that I can only be here, supporting you.”

There are tears in Blaine’s eyes too, when he leans forward to hold onto Kurt, like a shipwreck victim.

“Oh, Kurt, I love you too,” he breathes out against Kurt’s neck, trembling, “I just, I'm sorry. I really needed to hear you say this.”

Kurt grips at his back, nails digging a little too hard into the material of Blaine’s shirt. He just needs to know that Blaine is solid and real against him.

“Don’t you dare repeat what you said to me,” Kurt utters seriously, when they part a little.

“I won’t, I promise,” Blaine bumps his forehead against Kurt’s, craving to keep him close.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Kurt smiles faintly, through his tears, “I’m never saying good bye to you.”