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"I feel completely alone…" Blaine mutters to himself as he sits on their bed, propped up against pillows, his laptop perched in front of him. He has plans to write, but his fingers burn too much to press the keys. With a heavy sigh, he flips back to the website where he applies for temporary editing jobs. He silently scrolls through the new listings. Nothing good. Sadly, he clicks back to the Netflix tab and selects his next episode. Leaning back, he shifts uncomfortably. Everything is sore today. Sitting is uncomfortable. But, as he has also laboriously discovered today, so is laying down and standing. It's just one of those days. Only half paying attention to the opening credits, Blaine shoots a text to his friend, silently hoping she'll answer. He knows she's busy, but she always makes his day better.
When Kurt comes home from rehearsal a few hours later, Blaine is still in bed, but he's sniffling, wiping a few tears away. He doesn't look at Kurt when his husband enters, changing out of his dance attire into something more comfortable.
"Sad movie?" Kurt asks, perching on the edge of the bed for a moment.
Not wanting to talk about it, Blaine nods. "Yeah. Sad movie."
"You know you shouldn't watch those by yourself," Kurt tells him, standing up again. "They make you depressed."
"I know. Where are you going?" Blaine asks. He'd hoped that Kurt would sit with him for a while when he came home, but it seems his husband has something to do.
"I'm going to do some research for my role," Kurt tells him. "My laptop is charging on the dining room table. I'll just be out there."
"Can you bring me a water?" Blaine calls after him, feeling guilty for even asking. "I'd do it, but everything is on fire today."
"Sure," Kurt says.
An hour later, Blaine's still without a water.
By the time bedtime rolls around, Blaine's been alone for most of the day. He's hardly seen Kurt since he came home; he's been on his computer most of the day, only stopping to make them a quick dinner and watch an episode of a sitcom they've been watching together. Then, it was back to his computer, and Blaine's pretty sure he hasn't been researching his role all day. It sounds like he's playing a game, probably the fashion show simulator. Blaine never pegged his husband for a video game player, but ever since he discovered that simulator a few months ago, he can't seem to stay away from it.
Shortly after 11, Blaine decides to make a kitchen run. He's hungry, although that could be the depression, and he's sure Kurt's not going to bring him anything.
"Hey," Kurt greets when he sees him emerge from the bedroom. "What's up?"
"Hi," Blaine manages, shuffling toward the fridge.
"I said, 'What's up?'" Kurt tries again, watching Blaine a little more carefully.
"What are you doing?" Blaine asks instead, grabbing out a container of leftovers.
"Playing the runway simulator. I'm almost done, though."
"Oh." Blaine doesn't talk while he dumps some food on a plate and throws it in the microwave. He stands on pins and needles while he waits for the food to be done then shuffles back to the bedroom. He's just sitting down on the bed to eat when Kurt comes in.
"Are you hungry again?" Kurt asks, chuckling.
"Yeah." Blaine's tone is dry and humorless when he answers, but Kurt doesn't seem to notice.
Flopping down on the bed, Kurt grabs his phone, beginning to scroll through Instagram. He doesn't say anything for a long while until, "You chew so loud." He's laughing and grinning.
Blaine doesn't find that funny at all. "Fine," he spits, standing as quickly as he can. "I'll eat somewhere else then. I'd hate to annoy you with my loud chewing!" Then, he storms out, finding a spot in the living room to put his legs up.
While he eats, Blaine stews. He feels like crying, but he doesn't feel like choking on his food. So, he plans what he's going to say to Kurt when he goes back in. He doesn't want to say anything out of anger, even though he's incredibly mad right now. He knows he has a tendency to overreact when he's feeling like this, when his whole body aches like someone ran over him with an 18-wheeler, he's exhausted, and he's depressed. Still, he needs Kurt to know.
When he goes back into the bedroom, he moves much slower. His outburst totally drained him of most of his energy, and he can barely move now. Slowly, he edges his way onto the bed and sits silently for a few minutes. Then, he says, "It's really hard to know that I'm not more important than a video game." Not a good start.
Kurt sighs, putting away his cell phone. "Blaine, I really don't want a lecture."
"I'm not going to lecture you!" Blaine exclaims, locking eyes with Kurt. When he's sure his husband's not going to say anything else, he continues, "All day long, I've been in here feeling depressed. Burt and Carole are coming this weekend, and I feel like crap because I haven't been able to do anything to get the house ready. I feel guilty because I've been applying for online jobs, and I'm not getting anything. I'm not bringing in any money. And, I've watched so much TV today that my brain is rotting, but I can't do anything else because I'm in way too much pain! And, I told you that earlier. So, I guess I expected you to come back in here to spend time with me today, but you didn't. And then, I go out there to find you playing a video game. I want to be more important than the video game." Blaine wills himself not to cry as he finishes speaking.
"You're right," Kurt says softly.
Surprised, Blaine asks, "What?"
"You're right. I should have come in here and spent time with you. I'm sorry."
And, as much as Blaine doesn't want to say this, he knows he has to. "I don't want to hear that," he says softly, not making eye contact. If he looks at Kurt, he'll cry. "I've talked to you about this so many times, and nothing seems to change. I don't feel like I'm asking for much. I just want you to check in, tell me what you're going to do or ask how I'm doing."
It's Kurt's turn to be misty-eyed. "You're right. I should have checked on you. I knew you were hurting a lot today." He hung his head. "You always were better at that than me."
Blaine feels guilt begin to well in his chest again. Maybe he is asking too much. "Well, I didn't check on you either."
"But you were hurting."
"Doesn't matter. It's my job."
"Blaine--"
"It's just really hard to be alone and depressed, Kurt. Hurting. I've been through the stages of grief over my fibro more times than I can count. And, being depressed makes it worse."
"Then, talk to me. Or, your friend."
"You're both so busy. I don't want to bother you."
"You're not a bother," Kurt says, leaning over to make Blaine look at him. "I love you. I married you. You're never a bother."
Blaine nods. It helps a little, at least for now. It won't help forever, but it's enough for tonight. He doesn't want to fight anymore; he's too tired. Too bad he won't be able to fall asleep later. "You're forgiven," he says, offering Kurt a smile. "Do you forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive, but if it makes you feel better...yes. I forgive you."
"Can you hold me?" Blaine asks then, already leaning in. "Massage my arms maybe? They're super achy right now."
"Of course," Kurt replies, opening his arms. "Come here."
Blaine leans in readily, making himself as comfortable as he can. "Thank you," he whispers as he feels Kurt's fingertips begin to massage lightly at his upper arm. "I love you." He has to make sure he knows. He feels bad for causing a fight, but those three words seem to somehow always make it better.
Kurt gives him a gentle kiss to his cheek, never stopping his gentle massage. "I love you, too."