Getting Away

Chapter 46: Walk with me

A/N:

Hi!

I'm sorry this is so short. I had a literally insane week. My youngest brother he tried to get better by seeing a psychiatrist and got antidepressants prescribed. We don't know yet exactly what happened … but somehow the upper that antidepressants are got him into a manic state (maybe he got too high a dosage, but that is pure speculation at this point, only time might tell; but I got a history of mental illness in my family with strong tendencies towards issues with mania, so that might make sense, of course you can try to make too much sense of something and be SO wrong doing it, so I am going to wait for the doctors to tell us what happened, ... hopefully) and now after a painful and exhausting couple days of excessive talks and phone calls in the middle of the night with a person getting more and more irrational in his communication attempts, hundreds of miles away from me, and unable to get there, one of my other siblings finally could go, went right away when we were certain his behaviour was really way way out of the ordinary, … he is in hospital now, getting some other stuff to allow him to come back down. And I have a job interview for a job I really REALLY want, on this coming Monday, but I got the call that I am allowed to interview for it last Monday only, and with everything going on a bit underprepared and in the wrong mindspace, slightly, …, I feel kind of okay again now, after oen nights real uninterrupted sleep, but … so, yep, short chapter. Writing was good though, felt good. I'm just really angry and frustrated that he tries to get help, which is so not easy to do, and then that happens. It seems … it is … so fucked.

Dinner has long been over but the two boxes placed next to the couch in the living room are still untouched, Kurt and Blaine sitting there, TV on, Kurt watching Blaine, Blaine … watching the boxes.

That is until Blaine shakes himself, his whole body broken into a new position, gets up, takes a box and heaves it, without a word, in between himself and Kurt onto the couch.

A heavy sigh slips past his lips as he lifts the simple cardboard lid of the simple cardboard box, some dents to it here and there, but especially around the edges, telling Blaine of the journey this box has taken with Cooper across the ocean … only to find its way into 'My hands' Blaine thinks.

He reaches inside blindly.

Looking inside too scary, too overwhelming a thought.

Blaine stares confused at the mix of documents in his hand for a moment before reaching inside the box again, retrieving several handfuls more before he scoots down onto the floor, in front of the couch and begins to sort everything into several piles.

Kurt notices with worry Blaine's refusal to look at anything for more than it needs for sorting right now.

Soon, reaching deeper and deeper into the box there are piles of postcards, letters, official documents, pictures … and a whole pile of things Blaine cannot place, mumbling to himself, as he briefly gets stuck on a birth certificate of his older half-brother that he finds in the mix, too, "Maybe Cooper can help with those."

The second box does not offer anything much to sort as it holds a giant photo album … and an even more enormous scrapbook.

Blaine's head is already spinning when Kurt notices that his breaths have gotten far too short.

"Blaine?" he asks tentatively.

No answer.

Kurt knows, knows now, the worst thing he could do to Blaine right now is panic alongside him. "Blaine," he repeats softer, "come on," taking the scrapbook from Blaine's hands, without either of them having even opened it, "let's go for a walk."

When they are dressed and taking the stairs back down to the ground floor Blaine stops Kurt mid-step, pulls him close in a tight hug, wordlessly.

As they leave the house, door closing behind them Blaine takes Kurt's hand firmly in his and they just keep going.

The night has cooled down the air already, or maybe rather the lack of sunshine, as the boys take step after step, and Kurt, with each, feels Blaine's hold on his hand relax, looking over sees the change in his whole body.

Kurt waits a good while longer after that, the two just walking on, allowing the quiet and the dark to sweep their minds of all those poking and prodding worries, Blaine cuddled deep into his side as they keep walking still, before Kurt not asks, offers "If you want to tell me … I'm here."

Kurt looks over and he finds Blaine chewing his lower lip with determination.

They are almost back to the house when Blaine stops them, hugs Kurt to himself tightly, Kurt hugging back feels the deep breaths rushing in and out of his boyfriend's body as Blaine struggles to keep himself calm.

It is a mumble into Kurt's shoulder in the end that gives him his first clue.

"How could I not be scared of what I'll find in those books."

Kurt frowns, "Worst case?"

"I can't think of that." Blaine answers, tangibly shaken.

Kurt holds on tighter, feeling like an idiot, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Blaine stays silent, but does not let go of Kurt either.

So they just stand there on the sidewalk, holding on, until Blaine whispers, "I don't know if I can stand to find out that she had … find her … see her … having that happy life with Copper and his dad. … I never got …. I never got to be… to make her …."

Kurt waits … for more, but Blaine only grabs on to him tighter, a slight shake to his form pressed against Kurt.

"I don't know why I am like this. She is basically a stranger, I should not care like that," Blaine finally blurts out.

"Caring does not make you weak, Love. It doesn't."

"Why do I feel so shattered then?"

Kurt swallows hard before answering, "When my mom died, … I cared so much, I thought it would never stop hurting, tearing me apart."

"Has it?" Blaine whispers now, having pulled out of the hug, still standing close to Kurt, pained gazes connected as Blaine cups Kurt's cheeks with both hands.

"No. But it is a different pain today. It used to hold me back, now it makes me want to push further. I don't think I will ever stop feeling it. But … I think I have the last word in how it makes me feel, how … I use it."

"Use it?" Blaine asks confusion twisting his features.

Kurt presses his forehead to Blaine's, eyes falling shut, a deep breath, another, "I refuse to drown myself in self-pity. Or alcohol. Or drugs. I've found a charity a couple towns over that specialises in being there for children who have a parent that is terminally ill. They want to interview me, talk my own case through with me, so that I can actually be there for someone else. They are going to help me …, it is going to help me. And I …," Kurt cannot help the tears that come, and Blaine does not mind them. "I need to help someone."

"Babe," Blaine hums as he is the one to pull Kurt close. "You will."

Kurt hiccups in a wet voice, tears still coming, "We weren't even talking about me. This walk … was not about me."

"Well too bad," Blaine smiles softly at Kurt, "now it is."

"No," Kurt protests far too softly for impact." Blaine, come on."

Blaine huffs a breath, asks just as softly, "What do you want me to say?"

Kurt's voice is surprisingly calm and steady, "I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel …, I want you to feel better."

"I do feel better, I do," Blaine tries to assure.

Blaine takes Kurt's hand back in his, starts them walking again, footfalls slow and unhurried. And maybe being part of this draws more tension from Kurt's body and mind again than any words could have.

They are back in the Hummels' front yard when Blaine fishing for his house key adds, "I'm just not ready yet to see what's in that scrapbook. Or ... or those photos." Those parts of Cooper's, his … their mom's life. He is not … "I'm just not ready … for any new surprises. Not just yet."