DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor am I associated with it or RIB. I don't own anything - there we go.

Who Would've Guessed, Death By Heartache

By: xSlythStratasfaction

Warning: Season 4 spoilers from the Break-Up episode! If you haven't watched that episode yet, DON'T READ THIS! Mentions infidelity and some foul language. NO DEATHS, just a random title, I promise!


No one ever said having your heart broken was this painful.

Sure, it was inevitable - the pain that was, but nothing could've prepared Kurt Hummel for the way everything just felt wrong, how everything just felt destroyed and broken. In fact, based on the exuberant amount of romantic films he had seen over his short life, he expected things to go much differently (like the tears, of course, but never this), not how they ended up playing out that very evening in Battery Park. He wasn't expecting such a wonderful surprise to turn so awful within a matter of hours, but it did.

And now there he was, heartbroken and alone.

Except he wasn't exactly alone in a sense.

The person who had broken his heart was resting quietly next to him, back to him as he slept, the occasional stilted sniffle coming from his side of the bed.

Blaine.

Hours ago, it had been a grand shock to open the door and find him on the other side, but now Kurt wondered to himself if things would've been better if he, Rachel, and Finn hadn't been around to answer the door. Yet, despite his thoughts, Kurt knew that no matter what, the circumstances of Blaine's visit wouldn't have changed - he still cheated and he still would've been there to confess and they'd probably still be laying in bed together, quiet and destroyed and lost and, most of all, broken and everything would still be wrong.

Sniffling softly, Kurt rolled over to his other side, his front now facing Blaine's back as he took in the sight before him: the way Blaine's back curled in as he slept, so tense and taut and unusual. Blaine had always been a bed hog, a stretchy sleeper, warm and pliant against Kurt's back as they lazed about in bed together, cozy and safe and loving in each other's embraces.

The Blaine that laid across from him now wasn't anything like the boy Kurt had left behind in Lima, nothing like the young man that had been sprawled against him the night before his flight to New York; this Blaine was curled up tight in a protective ball, the line of his spine hard and rigid.

It took everything in Kurt's power to not reach out, pull Blaine close to his body, and massage away the obvious kinks in the sleeping boy's back.

However, flashes of that night's events played like an old film behind Kurt's eyes and he shrank away, curling up in his own embrace, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he attempted to soothe himself. Across from him, Blaine breathed shakily and Kurt wondered if the other boy wasn't asleep and was instead just as awake as he was, lost in his own thoughts about what had happened.

It was over. It had to be. They couldn't repair themselves after this, could they? Blaine cheated, had been with another, and his actions had left a huge rift in Kurt's heart.

Kurt knew that cheating meant the ultimate no-no to some people, that it was the deal breaker of all deal breakers to some on the basis of their relationship; deep down, he found himself feeling the same way. All he could think about on that long walk home earlier was I was with someone and it was just a hook-up and how sometime within the last few weeks he had been in New York, Blaine had been with someone else, writhing beneath their touch, moaning against their lips… in ways that only Kurt himself had been able to experience.

There was someone else out there who had seen Blaine at his most vulnerable and suddenly, everything was different. The intimacy that had once been so special to them had been carelessly tossed out of the window and something that had once been so secretive to them, so exclusive to Kurt was now tainted by someone else.

It made him want to vomit.

Sucking in a quivering breath, Kurt pressed his head deeper into his pillow and froze, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he struggled to regain his composure and not break down right there in his bed with Blaine laying so nearby. Hot tears trickled down his cheeks and he curled tighter around himself, knees coming to rest against his forearms as he made himself as small as possible, quietly willing for the aching in his chest to die off so he could sleep. Next to him, Blaine shivered and then he heard it, the softest of sobs came from the other side of the bed followed by a broken, "Kurt?"

It was too much.

The air around him was stifling, suffocating him as he fought not to break down as well. Blaine was now crying freely beside him, his once stiff form trembling viciously as he wept and with each sharp intake of breath, the bed shook from the effort of the other boy's labored breathing. Kurt struggled to breathe as well, one hand curled into his nightshirt right over his heart as he listened to Blaine cry; he knew Blaine knew he fucked up. He also knew that Blaine knew that he knew he fucked up and despite how badly he wanted to scoot his body closer to Blaine's and cry with him - or, fuck, even talk to him, he listened to the more rational part of his brain (the one that was so, so angry and so, so disgusted at Blaine) and rolled out of the bed, stumbling blindly out of his makeshift bedroom, the divider flapping behind him as he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, falling to his knees in front of the toilet as everything he ingested that evening came bubbling up and out of his throat.

He clutched the toilet seat tightly and vomited a few more times, tears still leaking from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks until they fell and stained his pajama pants. Spitting, he leaned away from the toilet, body crashing numbly against the cold, dirty tiled walls with a soft thud and he sighed sadly, mentally willing his stomach to calm and for his head to quit pounding. It was bad enough his heart was hurting, he really didn't need all this to add onto it.

With a choked back sob, he pressed forward again, weakly holding the toilet seat as he threw up again, the thoughts of Blaine beneath a faceless, nameless figure haunting him.

Finally, he finished and collapsed, whimpering as he slid down to the floor and closed his eyes, wishing just once that he had a time machine and could go back and fix everything.

::

For another half an hour, Kurt laid on the bathroom floor, one hand pressed flat against his churning stomach as he blearily stared up at the cracked, peeling ceiling above him. His eyes burned from crying, the lids red and raw, and his lips felt chapped and bloody from the persistent gnawing he had been doing on them since he had returned home that evening. Add that to the foul bile taste in his mouth and he knew he was a mess - it was just like how he felt: broken and alone.

Shattered, much like his heart.

He breathed in deeply, slowly pulling himself off of the floor, and flushed the toilet once he got himself into a standing position. As he righted himself, he got a glimpse of his face in the mirror and took in his haggard, pallid appearance: the way his hair flopped loosely in front of his bloodshot, puffy eyes and how hollow those very same, once bright azure orbs looked. It was like whatever emotions that had been in there previously had fizzled out and died and Kurt wondered to himself if it was because the love in him had done the same.

Sighing, he carelessly rubbed his fist beneath his nose, then remembered what he was doing and grabbed up a handful of toilet paper, wiping his nose with that instead as he walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Without a thought, his body went into auto-pilot and he began to make a pot of coffee, his gaze occasionally flickering back and forth to the time on the wall clock (3:54 am) to the slight gap in the dividing curtains that led to his room. His ears perked up as he tried to listen in and see if he could hear any noise coming from that part of the apartment, but he heard nothing. The only sounds around him were the sounds of the streets below, just white noise he had gotten used to over the last few weeks; he wondered if Blaine had finally fallen asleep to the same sounds that lulled him to sleep night after night.

Still deep in thought, he poured himself a cup of the steaming drink and settled down in a chair, tucking his body into the seat as compact as he could while he sipped on the coffee and sat in the darkness. As he drank, he let his mind wander from thoughts of the city to memories of him and Blaine back in Lima and of their year and a half long relationship.

Memories of the two of them at Dalton rushed through, melting into their first kiss and then into their first argument over Kurt going back to McKinley. He remembered how scared Blaine was for him to go and how much his boyfriend had worried about the whole Karofsky of it all. The memory of that disagreement merged into Blaine's transfer, their first few days as a couple in a public school, and how scary and new and different everything was compared to their time at Dalton. Finally, the memories went to their first time together and how terrified Kurt was as he hovered over Blaine, the latter smiling up at him as Kurt eased himself inside, trembling in fear of hurting Blaine, but also terrified that he was going to be absolutely awful in bed. It had been a scary thing indeed, but only because Kurt was worried about the Blaine of it all, and vice versa, but they made it through and since then had gotten so, so much better at it and-

and then Blaine was with someone else.

Kurt set the cup of coffee on the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, letting the tears fall again as he thought of how much everything had changed now that Blaine had been with another guy. He cried quietly into his pajamas, fingers curled tightly around his pant legs as he wept over his broken heart and Blaine's betrayal.

He wondered if it would always hurt this bad.

He felt like death, like someone had stabbed him in the heart with the intention to kill. It felt like he was bleeding out, like someone hurt him and then stepped back to watch… and that someone was who he thought was the love of his life.

Blaine.

He cried some more.

::

Hours later, Finn snuck out of Rachel's room and Kurt found himself wishing it was Blaine, wishing that instead of his tall, lanky stepbrother walking through his apartment, it was his shorter, curly-haired boyfriend coming out to talk... because despite the fact that Kurt couldn't even speak earlier in the bedroom, he still wanted to hear what Blaine had to say, as well as add his own opinion to the mix or get some questions answered like, you wanted me to go to New York and the second I leave, you cheat? or just... why?

But, it wasn't Blaine and as Finn left the apartment, Kurt wondered to himself (over his fourth -hardly drank, much like the others- cup of coffee) if he could even consider Blaine to be his boyfriend anymore.

::

Several hours later, Kurt found himself being shaken awake by a small, gentle hand. His eyes slowly blinked open, still tight and burning from the ridiculous amount of tears that he had shed, and he stared up at the girl standing before him, her state much like his own - hurt.

"What time is it?"

"It's a little bit after noon. You've been sleeping for a few hours now."

"Is Blaine-"

"He left a few hours ago, I guess. I woke up and he was gone… so was Finn."

Kurt's lower lip trembled and he stood up quickly, barreling past Rachel as he stumbled into his bedroom and took in the disheveled state of his bedding; Blaine's things were not sitting at the foot of the bed like they were the night before. The only evidence that Blaine had been there last night was an opened bottle of water that sat on the nightstand on the right side of the bed - Blaine's side - and a tiny little note scribbled down on a yellow post it, the ink smeared from tears that had splashed on the paper.

I love you. I'm sorry.

Kurt picked up the note and crumbled it in his palm, pressing the balled up paper against his chest as he broke down and fell to his knees. Behind him, he heard Rachel sniffle and he knew she was battling her own demons too. It took her only seconds to drop to the floor next to him and pull him into a tight embrace, the two of them crying into each other's shoulders over their pain.

Blaine was gone, Finn was gone…

It was all over and there was nothing they could do. They were just two friends living together in New York, both suffering from the awful blows of heartbreak and despair instead of celebrating their success at getting out of Lima. This was supposed to be a time of celebration and happiness, a time to be shared with their significant others and instead, Kurt Hummel and Rachel Berry were sitting together on the floor, holding one another, anchoring each other to reality as they mourned their first loves.

Who would've thought?


A/N: Yeah, I know I have a million other WIPs out there, but I just can't write for them right now. It's like this last episode of Glee gobbled me up, chewed me to smithereens, and then spit me out. I feel like I was the one cheated on, the one broken up with, and after watching the episode again several times (this time much more sober than I was during the original viewing), I've been stuck with plot bunnies regarding this episode and this episode alone and here's one of the fics from those damn bunnies. I'm pretty sure there are a million other one-shots just like this one that deal with Kurt's thoughts during that awful night, but here's my take on the evening. I'll probably write one for Blaine as well… maybe. I tend to write more Blaine-centric stuff anyways since he's my favorite, so maybe that'll happen. Anyways, let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!