Baby, I've reached my...

[mediumdrip]

Who: Klaine
When: May 17th.
Where: Kurt's apartment.
Summary: After getting a disturbing text from Kurt, Blaine drags himself to Kurt's door.
Warning: It's them, I'll add warnings as we need them.



Micheal was dead. Cass was gone. And now Kurt was telling him that Rachel and Finn had disappeared too.

Blaine wasn't able to let himself register it though. He was sick, miserable, the word 'plague' had been tossed around the network. Standing hurt, so walking was worse. He kept to himself on the train, body tense and tight as he willed it to move faster. He needed to get to Kurt. All of his focus and energy was focused on that.

Finally he was at Kurt's apartment. He knocked on the door and leaned his head against the door jam for a moment, just trying to breathe as Kurt answered.

Comments

[showbizpanache]

"Do you think we'll be old here?" said Kurt. The kitchen was quiet, so his croaky voice echoed off the walls. It sounded horrible. "It's so weird, living two lives. And if we went home we'd just be young again. And forget everything."

He turned on the kettle and filled his tea-strainer with leaves. He was pretty sure he was the only person his age--hell, just the only person in general--who still used a tea-strainer, but whatever.

[mediumdrip]

"Maybe," Blaine admitted. "Then we'll do it all over again but this time in New York," he suggested. He smiled a bit, though it expression was a little dulled from his sickness and the weird pain in his chest that had nothing to do with the flu.

He started to cough then. Loud, wet coughs that shook his entire body and make his lungs ache.

[showbizpanache]

Kurt moved over to Blaine and sat beside him, running his hands over Blaine's shoulders. His eyes felt wet, and they were stinging. He hated seeing Blaine like this. It hurt even more than the fever did--the aches, the coughs.

He ran a hand through Blaine's damp hair. "Shh, shh... It's okay. You're okay."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine groaned and took a deep, wheezing breath. "Mm, careful," Blaine muttered softly. "Your hand might get stuck."

Joking about his hair was bound to be the better choice on how to deal with what was happening to him.

[showbizpanache]

"We're gonna be fine," said Kurt, leaning in to kiss Blaine's cheek. He was tearing up, exhausted and terrified, tired of this place for never giving them a break.

So, so tired.

[mediumdrip]

Blaine smiled a bit at the kiss. "Finish making your tea so that we can cuddle," Blaine suggested. His coughing fit had seemed to disappear. At least for now.

The idea of tea made his stomach twist but he managed to keep it all down for now. It helped that there was really nothing left.

[showbizpanache]

Kurt pulled away to get the tea, pushing through his illness as hard as he could. It wouldn't get him down unless he let it, right?

Right.

He returned with two steaming mugs, then curled up on the couch again. It was almost three in the morning, so nothing was on but infomercials, but Kurt turned the television on anyway, just for some kind of noise other than the awful scratching he could hear at the windows outside.

He shivered, getting cold again, and managed a sip of tea. It burned his scratched throat on the way down, and he shuddered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

[mediumdrip]

Blaine watched Kurt instead of the TV. "Hey," he said as he sat up a bit to put his hand on Kurt's arm. "We'll be okay."