I know, I know. Another crossover? This time with Twilight? Well, what can I say? I can't help it if I have way too many ideas. I blame summer and the fact that there aren't many Glee/Twilight crossovers out there!
Spoilers: Goes AU for Glee during Silly Love Songs, set during New Moon for Twilight.
Warnings: Slash, character death (obvious from the summary), and... that's it!
To Fix You
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
—Coldplay, Fix You
The folder sat untouched on top of his father's desk. Kurt slid one finger across the top of it. It hadn't been too long ago when his dad had insisted that they make these plans just in case.
"Look," his dad had said when Kurt protested. "I'm not sayin' it's going to happen any time soon or anything. I'm just saying that if it does—if it does," he repeated louder when Kurt tried to talk over him, "you'll be prepared."
And so they had gone through everything. Mortgage papers for both the house and the garage, life insurance policies, funeral arrangements, his will, and lastly guardianship papers.
"I have an aunt," Kurt had repeated weakly, looking at the paperwork. "Why haven't I ever met her?"
His dad had shuffled around before finally sighing. "Well, your grandparents and her didn't get along much. They didn't agree with her, ah, lifestyle choices, and she left home when she was still in high school. Your mom was just a kid then. They kept in touch when she got older, mostly by letters. She came out a few times after we got married, but I wasn't…" he sighed once more. "You have to understand that I wasn't as open-minded back then as I am now. I'm not proud of how I treated her, and I've tried to make amends for what I did but sometimes there's just too much hurt."
Kurt hadn't thought anything else about the funeral arrangements or his aunt after that afternoon. It had been too difficult to think about at the time, only weeks after his dad's first heart attack. Plus with things escalating at school with Karofsky and then his transfer to Dalton, it was no surprise that contacting his aunt had escaped his mind.
And yet, only five months later, there he was, staring at the folder. It was hard to believe that his entire world had fallen apart in only a matter of days. Just a handful of days ago, he had been planning the Lonely Hearts Club Dinner and thinking that nothing would ever hurt worse than thinking Blaine had liked him only to find out that he didn't. Now he knew better.
His friends, who had swarmed the hospital just earlier that day, were nowhere to be found. Not because they wanted to leave him alone—because they didn't, most emphatically didn't—but because he had refused to let them in. He had had enough sympathetic looks and words of encouragement for one day, and he wasn't sure he could take anymore. All he wanted to do was to call his aunt and then sleep.
Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away furiously, ignoring them. If he started crying now, he wasn't sure that he would ever stop. He took a deep breath and flipped open the folder until he got to the sheet regarding the guardianship. He read both his aunt's name and number several times, committing it to memory before closing the folder. He pushed it away from him, not even wanting it within his reach. He dialed the number and counted to ten before putting the phone against his ear.
It rang three times before someone answered—a woman who sounded so much like his mom that Kurt's breath hitched in his chest. .
"Hello?" the woman repeated.
Kurt cleared his throat. "May I speak with Mildred—Mildred Cox?"
When the woman spoke again, her voice was guarded. "You already are. Who's this?"
"Kurt. Kurt Hummel."
There was a long pause, so long, in fact, that Kurt checked to see if the call had disconnected. He was about to just hang up and try again when he heard a whoosh of air through the line. "Call me Millie, will you? Mildred is some hundred and eight year old woman."
"Millie," Kurt repeated obligingly.
"Perfect. Now, then, not that it isn't absolutely wonderful to hear from you—because it is—but I assume you didn't call just to chat me up."
Kurt shook his head even though he knew she couldn't see. "No. It—it's my dad," he said finally. "He's…" He couldn't make himself say the words. He took a deep breath and started again. "I know that we don't really know each other, but he chose you as my guardian. The attorney handling his estate should contact you soon, but I just—I didn't know what else to do—will you come?"
"Yes, of course."
Millie arrived in Lima the next morning looking every bit as much as his mother as she sounded only older. She took one look at Kurt and swept him into a hug. "I'm sorry," she murmured over and over again. Kurt had a feeling that she was apologizing for more than just his dad's death, but he didn't press the matter.
"Don't worry," she told him when they parted. "I'll take care of everything."
The week following Millie's arrival was a whirlwind of activity, most of which—like his dad's funeral—Kurt could scarcely remember. It was almost as if he wasn't there himself, as if he was outside of his body watching while it was happening, completely detached. He remembered tearful speeches, songs sung by his friends, and watching as they lowered his dad's casket into the ground, but everything else was just a blur. After the funeral, there were meetings with his dad's attorney, a real estate agent, and his headmaster at Dalton to be taken care of. Kurt sat through each of those with the same detached sense of indifference.
When they weren't in meetings, they were packing up the house. It was a completely arduous task that often left Kurt feeling either emotionally bereft or ultra-sensitive like a raw nerve. He knew, vaguely, that he should be more upset that he was leaving the only home he'd ever known, but he wasn't. The truth was that Kurt wanted to get as far away from Lima because he didn't think he could bear to be there without his dad, didn't think he could walk past the living room and see his dad's empty chair or open up the refrigerator and see his dad's favorite dark beer. He couldn't even bear to go through his dad's room. Instead, Millie packed all of it up for him to bring with them. Later, when he was able to think about his dad without his heart clenching painfully, he would go through the boxes, but for now that was all he could do.
His aunt was there throughout it all, filling in the silence with stories of his mom as a kid. Every so often she would talk about her home back in Washington State and about her partner Rebekah. They had been together for over fifteen years. Rebekah was from the nearby Quileute reservation where his aunt taught Biology at the local high school.
"I think you'll like it," she said, almost hesitantly, as they went through the kitchen boxing up what Kurt wanted to take and what they were going to give to a charity. It was the last room they had to do as they had already gone through the rest of the house.
Kurt said nothing at first. What could he say? He probably wouldn't like it, but what did that matter? "What's it like?" he asked instead. "The city where you live—Forks, right?"
Millie seemed to be searching for an apt description. "Rainy," she said after a few seconds. "And, yes, Forks. Well, actually, we live in La Push, but since you'll be attending school in Forks, you'll probably spend more of your time there than anywhere else." La Push was the name of the reservation, he remembered. She talked about La Push a lot and Forks not so much.
"Rainy," Kurt repeated.
"But beautiful," she quickly added. "I think you'll like it."
"Maybe," Kurt said, vaguely, staring at his dad's favorite coffee mug.
Dozens of memories bombarded him at once. He nearly dropped the mug as a surge of pain ripped through him. He took one deep breath and then another. Once he had his emotions carefully in check again, he continued packing, ignoring the sympathetic look his aunt was giving him. He didn't bother telling her that he doubted he would like Forks or La Push because he wasn't sure he could like anything anymore. It felt like his entire body was now encompassed in ice and no good emotion was able to penetrate the icy exterior.
In his pocket, his phone beeped once again indicating he had a new text message. He deleted it without even bothering to see who it was from. His aunt watched him with a frown on her face.
"Why don't you take a break and go see your friends? I know you'll want to say goodbye, and since we'll be busy tomorrow, this will probably be your only chance before we leave."
Kurt nodded even though seeing his friends was the furthest thing from his mind. He went into the living room for a bit of privacy. He sat there for several minutes before sighing and sending off a series of texts. It didn't take long before he had all of his friends agreeing to meet him at The Lima Bean.
When he got there, Rachel, Mercedes and Tina were already waiting for him along with Blaine. He gave them what he hoped passed for a smile and headed to the counter to order his drink. Just as he sat down the boys came straggling in. Everyone was much more subdued than usual—especially Finn. Even though their parents' relationship hadn't worked out, Burt had been the only father figure that Finn had ever really had, and he was obviously taking the loss hard. Kurt couldn't find it in him to care because he hadn't just lost a father figure; Kurt had lost his entire world.
Instead of sitting, Kurt stood awkwardly in front of the tables where his friends were gathered. Everyone was staring at him with identical expectant looks on their faces.
"I'm moving," he finally blurted out. "To Washington State."
There as a long moment of silence before everyone started talking at once, spouting off questions and protesting. Kurt sighed and sank down onto an empty chair next to Blaine. Blaine gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "So, Washington State, huh?"
"Yes," Kurt said with a nod.
It took a few minutes, but finally everyone called down enough to hold actual conversations. Saying goodbye to the only friends he had ever had was surprisingly hard, but he was glad that his aunt had pushed him to do it. He would have regretted it had he not.
Afterward Blaine walked Kurt back to his Navigator. They stopped in front of the driver's side door. Blaine, looking decidedly ill, opened his mouth several times to say something but then closed it at the last minute.
Finally he cursed beneath his breath and took another step closer to Kurt. Before he had time to react, Blaine had pressed his lips to Kurt's. Kurt hesitated before returning the kiss, allowing him to deepen it a moment later. When they parted, Blaine's face was flushed, and Kurt's was stricken. Neither said anything for a long time as their breathing calmed.
"Why?" Kurt asked, breaking the charged silence. Why now when he was just days from leaving Lima forever had Blaine decided to kiss him? Why now when Kurt wasn't even able to enjoy it properly because nothing—not even a kiss from the boy he thought he was in love with—could penetrate the icy barrier that surrounded him?
"I just…I've wanted to kiss you for so long, and until two weeks ago, I didn't even know it was an option. I know that this was the worst possible time to do that, but I couldn't let you leave without kissing you at least once."
Silence settled between them once again.
It was Blaine who broke it this time, his voice sounding slightly strangled. "I should go. Goodbye Kurt."
Kurt said nothing. He just watched as Blaine walked to his car and drove away, never moving. It wasn't until taillights of his car had disappeared that Kurt climbed into his car and drove back to his nearly empty house.
The next day was just as busy as Millie had predicted. Kurt didn't mind a bit because being so busy meant that he didn't have to think about anything. It took nearly all day for them to finish loading the U-Haul truck out front and cleaning up the house, and when they were done, they were both so exhausted that sleep came easy and fast to them.
The next morning, Kurt woke up early and walked through the house, from bedroom to bedroom, absorbing everything he possibly could. This was the only home he had ever known, and yet it felt completely foreign to him now because empty, it was just a house. He stopped in the room that had once been his dad's. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell his dad's unique scent of motor oil and peppermint. Unbidden, a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it off as he hurried out of the house to where his aunt was waiting for him in the U-Haul, stopping only to lock the door behind him.
It wasn't until Millie put the U-Haul into gear and pulled away from the house that Kurt finally began to cry.