|Life on a Line
Author: warblingaway PM
Blaine's already lost someone important in his life. So when Kurt becomes extremely sick, Blaine isn't sure if he'll be able to handle it. Kurt's strong, Blaine knows that. But what he doesn't know is if he can hold it together for Kurt's sake. COMPLETERated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - Blaine A. & Kurt H. - Chapters: 22 - Words: 66,286 - Reviews: 261 - Favs: 195 - Follows: 145 - Updated: 12-27-11 - Published: 07-13-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7175375
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
So this is the first story of mine that is not humor related. I wanted to try my hand at some hurt/comfort and angst, so this is the first chapter.
Most of this is a flashback, but you'll see why it was necessary.
Kurt had gone home for the weekend. Blaine was extremely lonely the past few days, ever since he left on Friday. Luckily, it was now 6:30 on Sunday night, meaning that Blaine would get to see Kurt in a little more than twelve hours.
His phone rang, and Blaine glanced at the caller ID to see who it was. Kurt, it read. A huge smile splayed across his face and he answered it. "Hey there," He said into the receiver.
"Hi," he heard Kurt say. He sounded tentative and was talking quieter than usual.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asked him.
"Umm…sort of," Kurt responded.
Blaine's heart started thudding. Was Kurt hurt? Was he okay? Had Karofsky confronted him again?
"Blaine?" He heard Kurt ask, "Earth to Blaine! Are you still there?"
"Yeah," Blaine said, shaking his head and focusing on Kurt, "Yeah, I'm here. Now what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"No I'm not hurt…" Kurt trailed off. Blaine was starting to worry again, but before he could ask anything Kurt continued, "But I am kind of sick…"
That made Blaine feel a little better. "Oh, so it's just a cold?"
"I don't know," Kurt responded, "I feel like crap, and none of my past colds have felt like this. Carole thinks it's just the flu or Strepp or something, but I have an appointment tomorrow so that I can get the proper antibiotics."
"Well that's good," Blaine said, "But then I'm guessing you won't be in school tomorrow…"
"No," he heard Kurt say, "But it's only one day. I think you'll be able to handle it without me."
Blaine sighed. "I suppose," he groaned, "It's going to be one long day though."
"I'm sorry, Blaine. I wish I could be there and-"
"Kurt, don't be sorry!" Blaine interrupted him, "It's not your fault you're sick." He sighed again. "But I've actually got to get back to my homework. Call me tomorrow, okay? Let me know how the appointment goes."
Kurt agreed and the two boys said their farewells. Blaine hung up the phone and let his head flop down onto the pillow. He knew Kurt was fine, he was just a little sick, but he couldn't help but worry. No, Blaine thought, It's fine. Kurt is fine. He'll be back on Tuesday.
Blaine sighed and set his textbook down. He clearly wasn't going to get much studying done, all he could think about was Kurt and hoping and praying that he would be okay. There was just something about the conversation, about the way Kurt said 'And none of my past colds have felt like this.'
That one sentence bugged Blaine. A flashback came into his mind. He tried to stop it, but failed.
Blaine was sitting on the couch with his younger sister, Clarke, before school one day. She was four years younger than Blaine, who was thirteen at the time.
"Mommy," Clarke said, "I don't feel very good."
"You don't?" Their mother asked as she walked over to Clarke with a concerned expression on her face. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," Clarke had stated, "But it feels worse than the colds I've had before."
"Maybe it's the flu," Blaine told her.
Their mother went up the stairs to get a thermometer. Clarke had looked at Blaine, her big eyes tearing up.
"I really don't feel good, Blaine," She said.
Blaine grabbed her hand and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. "Mommy's going to take care of you," he told her, "You're going to be fine."
Clarke just nodded and their mother returned and took her temperature.
"Oh my," she said, "102.6 degrees. That is terribly high." She paused and grabbed the phone. "I'm calling your father to tell him that he needs to come and take Blaine to school, and then I'm taking you to the doctor."
Clarke's eyes began tearing up again, "Doctor?" She squealed.
Their mother hung up the phone and looked at her , "It'll be fine, honey," she reassured the little girl, "It'll make you feel better."
"It will?" Clarke asked her.
"Yes," their mother responded, before getting up and handing Blaine his backpack. "We're leaving now, but Dad will be here in about ten minutes to take you to school."
Blaine nodded at her as the two girls began to make their way out of the door. "Clarke," he called just as his mother was about to close the door.
Clarke turned around and looked at her older brother.
"Everything's going to be alright," he told her. He blew her a kiss, and their mother grabbed her hand and led her to the car.
"Everything's going to be alright," he said again, this time whispering it to himself.
Just like his mother had said, his dad was there a few minutes later to take him to school.
About an hour after lunch time, his teacher approached his desk.
"Blaine," she said, "You're mother's here in the principal's office."
Blaine's eyes went wide, "She is? Am I in trouble?"
His teacher laughed. "No, dear. I don't know why, I was just told to bring you down."
He nodded and followed his teacher out of the room. She led him to the office where he saw his mother sitting, eyes slightly swollen and forehead scrunched up in a wrinkle.
"Mom," Blaine asked when he took in her appearance, "What's wrong?"
She took a shaky breath. "I'll tell you on the way home," she told him, "Principal Drews has given you the rest of the day off."
"He has?" Blaine asked, "Why?"
His mother reached out and grabbed his hand gently. "I'll tell you on the way home, honey."
Blaine nodded, but he was still confused. He followed his mother out of the building when it occurred to him that Clarke was not with her.
"Where's Clarke?" He asked her, his voice growing more concerned by the minute. "Did you let her stay home alone?"
She didn't answer, but continued walking in the direction of the car. Once they were both in, she turned to look at Blaine. "Blaine…honey.." She started to say, but choked back a sob.
"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, his eyes wide.
"Clarke," she said. Blaine's eyes grew even wider at that one word. Clarke meant everything to Blaine. If something had happened to her…
"She-" His mother said again, interrupting his thinking, "She…At the doctor, they – they said it was more serious than a cold, and they took some – some blood tests and when they came back it said that-" She broke off, sobbing out loud this time.
Blaine couldn't handle it. "What?" Blaine asked, "What's wrong with her?"
"Clarke has cancer." His mother whispered to him. "Leukemia. Cancer of the blood."
"No," he said, "no no no." He broke down, putting his head in his hands and sobbing. "She can't. She's only nine. She's too young to have cancer!"
Blaine's mother laughed shakily. "It doesn't work like that, honey."
"Is – is she going to be okay?" He asked. No other questions mattered at the moment. The only thing that Blaine needed to know was that his little sister was going to be okay.
His mother looked at him with sad eyes. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "No," she whispered, so quietly that Blaine had to strain to hear her, "They caught it too late. They're going to try chemotherapy, but their doubtful that it will work."
"No," Blaine sobbed again, "This can't be happening."
"I know, honey," his mother said, stroking his hair soothingly, "But we'll get through this."
"How –" he broke off and looked towards the ground, "How long does she have?"
His mother sighed again, "About two months if the chemo doesn't work."
"Two months…" Blaine repeated, "That's one week before her birthday."
His mother just nodded.
When they returned home, Blaine wasn't sure why, but he'd been expecting to see Clarke there. "She's not here," he stated.
"No, honey," his mother told him, "She has to stay in the hospital. They're trying the chemo on her this week, so you'll be able to go visit her on Sunday."
Blaine nodded and made his way to his room, where he cried himself to sleep.
That Sunday, Blaine and his parents were going to visit Clarke. "Now, Blaine, honey," his mother said, "Clarke is going to look different. She's not going to have as much hair, and she's going to look sick."
"That fast?" Blaine asked.
His father nodded, "Cancer spreads quickly. And the chemo has lots of side effects."
Blaine didn't say anything. They waked into the hospital and made their way to Clarke's room. His mother pushed the door open and ushered for Blaine and his father to enter first.
The first thing Blaine noticed about her was her skin. She was extremely pale, so pale that she could almost blend right in with the white walls. The next thing he noticed was her hair, and the fact that she only had a thin layer of it.
"Hi," he said after staring at her for a few minutes.
Clarke didn't respond. Her eyes just welled up and she began to sob.
"Shhh," he rushed over to her and began soothing her, "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine."
Clarke just shook her head, "No," she said. Her voice was thick and cracking. "I can feel it, Blaine. It's not going to get better, I can tell."
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, scrutinizing her expression.
"It's hard to explain," she responded, "But I just know."
They remained silent for the rest of the time until a nurse came and ushered them out of her room.
"I love you, Blaine," Clarke told him as he was leaving.
Blaine leaned in and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "I love you too, Clarke," he whispered, "Everything's going to be fine."
She gave him a weak smile, and they left.
A month and a half went by, and Clarke seemed to be making some progress. The color returned to her cheeks, but the doctors still were not very optimistic. He overheard one of them talking to his mother about how the chemo didn't work to its full extent, but if they tried again it might harm her more than the actual cancer would.
He was laying with Clarke on her bed on a Saturday evening when she looked up at him with her big eyes. "I'm not going to get my 10th birthday, am I?" She asked him.
Blaine's eyes went wide. "Of course you are!" He said, "You're getting better."
"No I'm not," she practically whispered, "Sometimes I can feel it slipping away from me."
"Feel what slipping away?" He asked.
"I'm not sure," she said, "But I just have to think 'No, not yet' and the feeling goes away."
Blaine's eyes watered and he went to respond to her when a nurse walked in and told him he had to leave.
"I'll miss you, Blaine," she said as he was leaving. She sounded sad and said it with a tone of finality, like that was the last time she was going to talk to Blaine.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he told her, giving her one last hug.
The next morning, he was woken up by his mother shaking him. "Blaine," he heard her whisper. "Blaine."
Blaine's eyes opened groggily. "What?" He asked her, "It's 5:30 in the morning."
"I know, honey, I'm sorry," She said. He noticed there were tears in her eyes. "It's just that…Clarke died this morning, honey."
His throat closed up and he froze. The words repeated over and over in his head. Clarke died this morning. Clarke died this morning.
"No," he said, "I promised I'd see her today!" He yelled. "I promised!"
"I know, honey," she whispered, "I know."
Blaine just hoped that he wouldn't have to go through that again. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it. He no longer had his father's support, after he'd come out to him, and he was now distanced from his mother, too.
He went into his nightstand and grabbed his picture of Clarke that he had in there. He gazed at it, and the promise he'd made to her all those years ago still haunted him.
I'll be back tomorrow.
If only he had known that he would never be able to fulfill that promise. It was the only one that he hadn't been able to keep to his little sister.
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