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It was never going to be a good day to fly. Both Kurt and Blaine have been flying long enough to know what conditions are acceptable and what are sometimes known as concerning.
It had rained persistently since the early hours of that morning and big muddy puddles had pooled all around on the grass skirting the runway. A thick gray mist hangs dull and heavy in the sky with darkening clouds rapidly shifting around; the wind picking up speed and strength all around.
The thunderstorms and bouts of lightening eventually make an appearance about two thirds into the flight and only insist on getting worse as poor Blaine and his co-pilot try to navigate their way around the sky as carefully as possible. The noise of the rain pellets hitting the aircraft are disconcerting and the turbulence that bad that the seatbelt lights have never dinged off —not once— meaning that nobody could leave their seats. Not even the cabin crew.
Kurt sits rooted to his seat near the main entrance of the plane, clinging to his seatbelt as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. He learned along time ago how to calm his nerves—he could never do this job if he was going to be scared every time there were bad flying conditions. However, this is the first time he’s been on a bad a flight with Blaine—his husband—piloting, and he’s worried sick.
He has no worries with Blaine’s flying abilities or skills— Blaine’s one of the best pilots in the fleet and is often headhunted by different airlines for his services, all of which he has declined unless they were willing to hire a new cabin crew manager in the shape of his husband.
It’s just that Kurt knows what the pilot must be feeling right now as he navigates the treacherous airspace and tries to keep his voice calm and sensitive as he addresses the passengers on the situation.
Stress, pressure, a little unnecessary guilt… fear— Kurt doesn’t want his husband to feel any of those things and aches to undo his belt, leap out of his seat and straight into the cockpit to be at his husband’s side—but he can’t. He has a professional duty and he must stick to protocol.
The sharp, shrieking sound of a woman crying pulls Kurt out of his own head and over to the third row where a young lady in the aisle seat is hunched over the arm rest looking like she’s about to pass out. There’s nobody in the seat next to her and the guy beside the window is snoring against the headrest of the chair in front of him with ear-buds blasting something into his ear. How he’s asleep, Kurt will never know.
Kurt’s two colleagues are seated near the rear end of the plane to deal with passengers in that area. Thankfully this is just a small aircraft with only the purpose of internal flights usually used for students and business men and women.
Kurt’s face takes on a mask of professionalism as he unclasps his belt buckle, grabs a paper bag and strides over to the poor woman purposefully.
“It’s ok” he tells her softly as he bends down and pats at her hand. She takes the bag from him and when she looks up her face cracks and she’s crying again, wheezing as she holds the bag up to her face.
“I’m so scared” she croaks. Her eyes are rimmed red, mascara smudged all around her eyes and down her cheeks. “I’ve never flown before. I had a meeting that I had to attend-my family are waiting for me at the airport. I have to get home.”
“I know and you will. We will,” Kurt assures her. “I know this seems bad but it’s ok. The pilot’s know what they’re doing. I have every faith that they’ll get us to the ground safely.”
He speaks the truth, but can’t help the way his voice cracks as he blinks away unwanted, unprofessional tears. My Blaine.
The lady pulls the bag away from her face and looks back at Kurt. “You’re sure of that?” she asks him. Kurt smiles and squeezes her hand.
“Well, Captain Anderson is my husband, so I kind of have to be” he whispers with a wink and a tight smile. Something softens in the lady’s eyes as a wave of understanding passes over her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You must be so worried too. Or- do you get this a lot? Are you used to it?” She asks him, dabbing at her eyes with a big wad of balled up, used damp tissue.
Kurt settles himself more comfortably on his knees, passes her a clean handkerchief from his pocket and says “Yes, I’ve experienced turbulence much like this before. But-just not when Blaine has been flying. This is a first.”
The aircraft shakes and rumbles, causing the floor to vibrate under Kurt’s knees. He tightens his grip on the armrest to steady himself and squeezes the passenger’s hand once again as she begins to tremble.
Kurt’s just about to say something else as the intercom crackles and Blaine’s voice sounds steadily throughout the aircraft. “Cabin Crew management to Cockpit please” he says, and Kurt is on his feet instantly heading towards the front of the plane with his heart in his throat.
He punches in the code for the cockpit door and slides it open quickly, shuffling inside before closing it firmly behind him.
“What’s wrong?” He asks in a rush of breath. His eyes dart around the cockpit before landing on Blaine’s face.
Blaine’s face is the picture of concentration as his hands steadily glide over the control pad and tightly grasp at the gear stick. The cockpit is filled with lights and beeps but there’s no sign of emergency or distress in here. Kurt can hear voices through Blaine’s headset and even they sound calm.
Blaine’s co-pilot, Nick, takes control of the gears for a moment while Blaine flexes his fingers, leans back in his chair and glances towards Kurt.
“Hey, baby” he breathes. There are frown lines around his eyes and forehead and he’s wearing glasses—only prescribed for headaches— but apart from that he’s just Blaine, Kurt’s husband.
Something must show in Kurt’s face because Blaine’s face softens and he reaches out for Kurt’s hand. “Hey, it’s ok. We’ve got this. I just wanted to tell you that we’re making an emergency landing in Denver. I don’t want to push the engine too much. They’ve cleared airspace for us and we’ll try to get back to New York later this afternoon, otherwise alternate transport will be made for the passengers.”
Kurt’s shoulder’s sag with relief, “you’re ok?” He asks, his voice small and quiet.
Blaine’s squeezes his hand, tugs him down for a brief kiss and breathes against his lips “I’m fine, baby. I promise. I’m not letting anything happen to this aircraft, especially with you on it.”
They pull back and Kurt breathes with relief. “Prepare the passengers for a not-so clean landing in roughly 20 minutes. I’ll see you on the ground.” Blaine tells him with one last squeeze of his hand. “I love you.”
“I love you too” Kurt breathes and with one last look at his husband he opens the door and disappears through it, his heart still intact.