Eric
ERIC
The beeping of the machines plugged into Blaine was the only sound in the room. The hospital halls were quiet. Even the sounds of people walking outside didn’t penetrate the walls. sat in the only chair in the room, between the wall and one side of the bed.
“You dumb shit,” he muttered, reaching out to lay a hand on the bed.
Blaine had been lucky, and would admit, smart. The door had blocked most of the fire, heated enough to cause mostly third-degree burns. The impact had been enough to bruise and batter the hell out of him, though, as well as break a few ribs. The doctor had sworn up and down Blaine would be okay, telling him Blaine was young and in shape and his injuries weren’t that bad. let the man talk, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Blaine had been unconscious since they’d got him into the ER, and that had been almost a day before.
“Going to have even more scars,” told him, eyeing the bandages on Blaine’s arm.
Blaine was unconscious and safe from anything that might come spilling out of ’s mouth if the man were awake. He didn’t know the exact details of the healing process, but was pretty sure that being yelled at by your worried sick partner didn’t do much good. It was probably better that Blaine stayed unconscious for as long as it took for to get himself under control.
Better, but not better.
“Jesus, Blaine,” he muttered, adjusting the sheet over the man for the hundredth time.
He couldn’t bring himself to touch Blaine yet, though he ached to do so. Blaine had risked his life to save and had done so without a second thought. He told himself it was what any partner would have done, especially one who had faced and conquered death numerous times while fighting someone else’s war. He also told himself that the fear he’d seen in Blaine’s face hadn’t been for himself but for .
“What am I going to do with you? Did you really think saving my ass was going to make everything okay?” asked, voice tight. “Because that’s not going to work, you hear me? No, of course, you don’t hear me. You’re so fucking drugged up right now. Asshole.”
Brain damage. Possible brain damage. That was what he’d heard the nurses murmuring about outside the room earlier, where they thought couldn’t hear them. The words had ripped through ’s chest and threatened to unravel him. Instead, he’d bitten down on his terror, shoving it deep, and planted himself in the chair beside Blaine’s bed. That was where he’d sat for hours, refusing to move.
If Blaine woke up, wanted to be the first person he saw. Maybe it was so he could feel relief, but it could be because he wanted to tell the man off when he was conscious enough to understand.
“Stupid,” he muttered. “Stupid, stupid man.”
“Talking to yourself, that’s not a good sign,” a soft voice told him.
’s head jerked up. “Sean?”
His brother stood just inside the door, features drawn and worried. A small box was under one arm, and his eyes darted erratically around the room.
“Chief Morgan called and told me what happened,” Sean explained.
“Fuck,” muttered, sagging against the bed.
“Nurse outside told me good things, though,” Sean said.
shook his head. “That’s because they want us to believe. His brother’s supposed to be here in the morning. They’ll tell him the truth, keep the rest of us clinging to some hope that might not be true.”
“,” Sean said softly as he approached.
“It’s true, and you know it.”
“No, you’re scared, and that’s what you’re telling yourself.”
“Yeah, scare myself more than I already am, sounds like my normal kind of plan.”
“No, you tell yourself the worst will happen so you’re not disappointed when something doesn’t work out. Break your own heart before someone else can do it.”
That sounded about right, but said nothing, staring at his hands clasped in front of him on Blaine’s bed. Sean’s arm wound its way around his shoulders, pulling him close. leaned into the touch, allowing his big brother’s warmth and the smell of his leather jacket to surround him.
“That’s new,” murmured.
“What? Oh, the jacket. Yeah. You know me.”
“You go through them so fast,” muttered. “Fall off your bike again?”
“Uh, no?”
“Liar.”
Sean Andreas, mild-mannered, calm, easygoing, a shoulder to cry on, full of sage advice, and a total adrenaline junkie. found himself wondering just how many of Sean’s patients knew about their therapist’s need to feel alive through dangerous acts. If it wasn’t skydiving or base jumping, it was driving that death trap of a motorcycle around the city.
“He’s going to wake up,” Sean assured him.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch, and I listen to the medical experts who tell me he’ll be fine.”
wanted to believe it. He really did. But it was impossible to change half a lifetime of habits, and those habits told him he shouldn’t get too hopeful.
looked at him. “What’s with the box?”
Sean stiffened beside him, pulling away jerkily. “It’s uh...for you.”
stared up at his brother, frowning at the shifty expression on his face. If didn’t know better, he would say Sean was afraid. The closest he’d ever been to seeing his brother so scared was shortly after their parents had died and Sean had taken custody of him. had gone for a walk in the middle of the night without a word and had been gone for hours. He’d returned to the house to see cop cruisers in the driveway and his brother’s stricken expression when he caught sight of .
had gone for walks after that, but he always told Sean first.
“What?” asked, the whisper of unease growing louder at the new look of guilt on Sean’s face.
Sean pulled the box from under his arm, holding it before him gently. “It’s...why Blaine was trying to reach me. I’m not completely sure why he knew I was...are you two...?”
frowned, glancing between his brother and Blaine. “Are we...what?”
Sean sighed. “Becoming more than just partners?”
Shock rippled through , adding to his worry over his brother’s behavior. “Jesus, Sean, seriously?”
“I thought it when I saw how he was still looking at you and how...pissed you were about it. And then he contacted me about...well, I guess I have my answer,” Sean said softly.
“No, you don’t. There’s nothing...we haven’t talked...I don’t?—”
Shit, didn’t know what the hell he and Blaine were. There was obviously something there, but he didn’t have a name for it. All he wanted was for Blaine to wake up and give that crooked smile, equipped with that infuriatingly knowing twinkle in his eyes as he did so. Sure, would curse him up and down for scaring the shit out of him, but it was so much better than staring at the man’s unconscious body and wondering what could be.
“You don’t know.”
stilled, looking down at his hands again. “No, I don’t.”
Sean took a deep breath, shaky on the exhale. “Maybe deep down, I knew something like this might happen again or suspected it could. Maybe that’s why I’ve held onto this for so long.”
looked up, staring at the box as Sean held it out. “What is it?”
Sean smiled sadly. “Take it, open it.”
did, finding the small box heavier than he thought. There was a small clasp on the front that flipped up easily. The smell of paper filled his nostrils as he opened the lid. Inside were dozens of envelopes, all sealed and all addressed to .
And every single one had Blaine’s name on the return address.
“These are…” said, voice failing as he brushed a finger over the top envelope.
“Everything,” Sean said. “Everything he ever sent.”
“He...told me he sent letters. But I had no idea what he was talking about,” admitted. “It was you? You kept them?”
Sean was staring at him, lip trembling. “Yes.”
closed his eyes, unable to look at Sean. “Why?”
“For you.”
“How was this for me? Jesus, Sean. He told me what he tried to do in these letters, and you...kept them from me?”
Sean sucked in a breath. “What the hell was I supposed to do, ? You were a mess after he left. You slept all the time, you never stayed at the house, and don’t think I didn’t know about the drinking.”
snapped his eyes open. “Because I was heartbroken! And he tried...he tried to explain everything in these letters. They could have made it better. They could have...we could have?—”
His chest clenched, and gasped for his next breath. He clutched the box of letters to himself, wondering what might have happened if he’d had these letters all along. The letters his brother had kept from him.
“Sean,” breathed, unable to keep his voice steady.
“I almost lost you,” Sean whispered.
continued to stare at the box. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. You were drowning, , and you wouldn’t take anyone’s hand. You wouldn’t talk to me . You were even worse than when Mom and Dad died. You just locked yourself down and suffered, killing yourself slowly. If it hadn’t been for this job, this...this passion you found, I don’t know where you would have been.”
“And what right does that give you to keep this from me?” barked, gripping the box tighter.
“You never told me what happened, . I saw you as friends, and then I saw how you lit up, brighter than you’d ever been in that last year before he left. When he left and you...God, , I was terrified. You were already spiraling. You were in so deep. When the first letter came, I told myself that you couldn’t take it and didn’t deserve to have him making it harder on you. They kept coming, and I just…” Sean’s voice petered off, growing faint and desperate.
“What have you done?” asked, shaking his head slowly.
“What I thought was best.”
“You were wrong!”
“Read them. Prove me wrong.”
“That doesn’t change what you did!”
Sean’s shoulders sagged, his voice thick. “No, it doesn’t. I love you, , and I was terrified of losing you.”
“I can’t believe…” ’s eyes drifted to Blaine’s unconscious shape. “He knew you had them.”
“Yeah, like I said, that’s why he called me.”
“I hope he gave you hell. You unbelievable bastard.”
“He didn’t, not when I told him why, not when I yelled at him for being the chickenshit who ran away.”
’s eyes flashed open. “What do you know?”
“Not enough,” Sean admitted, looking down at the floor. “He asked that I give them to you because they were yours in the first place. And he’s right.”
“Get out,” said hoarsely.
“.”
“Get. Out.”
He wasn’t going to raise his voice. He wasn’t going to let loose the scream boiling away in his chest. This was Sean, and he loved , would do anything for him, but damn it all, he was the last person wanted to see right now. He couldn’t stand the sight of his guilt-ridden, fearful features anymore.
Sean was at the door when he spoke again. “For what it’s worth...I hope I was wrong.”
“About what?” growled.
“That those letters would have made it worse. I hope I was wrong and that they would have brought you out of that pit.”
“Why?”
“Because it means they could help you now.”
Sean was gone, and felt his breath shudder out of him. He bowed his head over the open box, gently touching the top letter. Flipping through them, he could see the dates stamped on the envelopes. They were all in order.
’s eyes shifted to Blaine as he pulled the first letter out, carefully unsealing the envelope. It was two sheets of lined paper, written in Blaine’s messy, barely legible handwriting. had always teased Blaine, telling him it would take an expert in hieroglyphs to read Blaine’s chicken scratch. Blaine had always responded that the important people could read it, and that was all that mattered.
Turning the bedside lamp on and facing it toward him, began to read through the letters.
Hey!
I know you’re still pretty pissed about how things went before I left. Honestly, I don’t blame you. I kind of (okay, I really) dropped things on you at the last second, and I shouldn’t have.
I was scared, . Scared of what my life would be if I stayed there and what it would do to you. We both know my parents would find out about us eventually, and I hated hiding you, hiding us. I was scared that we’d be stuck in that town with nothing but each other, and as happy as you make me, we deserve more than that.
I should have talked to you. I should have told you. But I knew how you’d react, and it scared me that you’d talk me out of it. I had to commit to it first, to doing this thing for us. I mean, that whole Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell thing is gone, right? Maybe when this is over, you can come and be with me. I know we can’t get married yet, but it’s possible.
I wanted us to have a chance at something more, . I love you with everything I have, and I will keep loving you. So I’m sorry that I hurt you, but I would never leave you. You are with me, always.
’s hands shook as he carefully tucked it away. The second letter was not much different than the first, with Blaine earnest in his attempts to explain himself. And the third, more of his love sent ’s way.
And the fourth.
Hi,
I’m not sure if you’re getting these or not. I think this is the fourth one. I don’t know, it’s hard to keep track. They’ve been running us ragged (surprise, I know) and I’m so exhausted. It’s impossible to keep my eyes open most nights, but I have to try to make sure I get these done.
If you are getting them and just aren’t writing back, well, I understand. I know I didn’t give you the time you needed to understand. And I’ll never stop being sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first.
For what it’s worth, you’ve been on my mind every night. Even the nights where I’m so damn tired I pass out in seconds, I think of you when I fall asleep. I wish I were right there with you right now, curled up behind you. You always smelled like the trees around your house, and I miss that smell so much. I miss the sound of you laughing at some stupid joke I made and how you smiled at me when you saw me.
I love you, , and maybe you’ll forgive me one day. I hope you will.
His eyes stung as he tucked it away and added the envelope to the growing pile of opened ones. It was growing harder to breathe as he moved through the letters. There were a few updates, enough to know when Blaine was moving toward the end of boot camp. But mostly, they were letters to , for , about .
About them.
Had a dream about you, hope you’re sleeping well.
I hope we can have the life we both deserve after this.
Please be okay, , I’m getting worried.
I love you, . I didn’t say that enough before everything fell apart.
The words seemed to fly from the page, slamming into him every time he opened a new letter. Blaine’s words were desperate, earnest, and filled with the love he’d shown constantly before disaster had struck. For the weeks he was in boot camp, and as the dates showed, even afterward, Blaine had never given up on . He’d never let them go.
And then the final letter, a year after Blaine had left.
,
They tell me that I’m going to be deployed, but not exactly where. Doesn’t matter, even if I knew, I’m sure I couldn’t tell you. At this point, I know you’re just not responding, but the selfish part of me hopes you’re reading these at least. I know you’re done and can’t stand the thought of me at this point, but you’re what I’m holding onto right now.
I don’t know if I’m going to make it through whatever I’m getting tossed in. Anything could happen. I won’t say exactly what, but you know what I mean. Maybe I’ll only be gone a handful of months, or maybe I’ll be gone longer. Maybe I just won’t come back.
But I don’t want to go without telling you the truth one last time.
I love you, . I love you, I love you, I love you.
No matter what happens, no matter what you think, believe that. And if I get through all this, maybe I’ll have a chance to make things right with you again. Things were right when I was with you, and if I get to the other side of this alive and in one piece, I hope I can have you there.
You’re what I choose, , what I’ll always choose.
Be safe, be happy, and maybe we’ll see each other again.
bowed over the last letter, clutching it to him. It had been a goodbye letter, and might never have known it. While Blaine was being tossed into a warzone, had done his best to forget his life with Blaine. While he’d been drinking his life into a stupor, Blaine had been fighting tooth and nail to survive, hoping against hope to get back to him.
“Fuck,” he croaked, eyes stinging as the tears slipped free. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
He took a shuddering breath, reaching out to Blaine’s hospital bed. curled his hands around Blaine’s hand, squeezing it gently.
Throughout everything, this man, this stupidly patient, stubborn, and foolish man, had never let them go. Even after had thrown everything they were back in his face, even when had broken both their hearts, Blaine had never stopped believing. Eight years later, Blaine had still been trying to find , to reach him finally.
“You did it, Blaine,” whispered hoarsely. “You found me.”