etrelibre | [TAG KURT OR QUINN] "Cause even angel's die, but that light just fades. It's so sad, but he'd be so

Who: Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel
What: Facing the music
Where: Kurt & Quinn's bungalow
When: After dinner

It had been three days since Mercedes arrived on this island, and at Puck's request, she hadn't immediately approached Kurt, as much as her heart was yearning for it. It was still feeling near impossible for Mercedes to get her head around all of this, and once the shock started to abate a little, an exhausted grief over Blaine's death began to set in and she ended up just curling up in her resort room and sleeping the next few days away, letting herself cry like she needed to. It was confusing as all hell, but when she woke up that morning still on the beautiful island, reality over the situation began to set in. She got dressed, went outside and had promptly bumped into Mike Chang out by the pool. It had been a shock, because she hadn't seen him in years back home. Luckily he was typical Mike and more than willing to fill her in more on a few things now her mind was processing a little better.

That was when Mike went into a little more detail about Kurt here, including where on the island he was staying. Mike's description of Kurt had simply been, 'He's still Kurt, but with an emptiness. You have to play him by ear, no two days with Kurt are the same. One day, he might be just like he was back in school, and the next, barely able to look you in the eye.' Mercedes didn't know what to take of that. At least, until Mike had elaborated a little more. Kurt was dead back in the real world, Mercedes knew that much. Meaning, he was trapped here. There was no hoping he would go back to Blaine, he had to sit and hope Blaine would come here and every day that didn't happened, it was like a little more of Kurt was slipping away. Now it made more sense why her showing up and now Blaine wouldn't have gone down well if she surprised him. At the same time, Kurt had made no attempt to come to her and she wasn't a patient person. He couldn't avoid her on the island forever, right? She just wanted to see him again. See him breathing, hold his warm hand, experience him full of life again. The last she had seen him in the flesh, he had been covered on blood, pale, being moved from Blaine's arms onto an ambulance trolley where they covered him with a sheet. It was an image that would never, ever leave her.

Now she stood on the front stoop of said bungalow, wringing her hands in front of her right before she knocked on the door. According to Mike, Kurt's two year anniversary on the island and therefore two years since his death had just passed and Kurt had withdrawn from most of his friends this past week. He might now answer, and who could really blame him? But if it was Quinn who answered, Mercedes needed to see her just as much. Back home, it had been years for them too. They lost touch, and there wasn't a day that went by that Kurt didn't miss her.

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As much as Kurt hated to admit it, the tattoos really had hurt like a bitch, but he wasn't sure how much of it was physical pain or emotional pain over the ink designs he had wanted. The tattooist was lovely, and Kurt was pretty sure that by the end of it he walked away not only high but with a new friend, as unlikely a friend for Kurt the guy seemed. That was the way with this island, Kurt had managed to befriend all sorts of people from all walks of life, even people with supernatural or superhuman ability when before he used to just think all that was bullshit fiction. But getting Blaine's name and that poignant notion of courage inked into his skin had hurt a lot, and Kurt went home drained after the high of the weed started to wear off.

He had a few mouthfuls of ice cream from the tub in the freezer before even eating had gotten too much effort. He went to change into his mauve silk pyjama pants and light blue fitted tank top, and then went to lie down on the plush sofa in the living room of his and Quinn's open-planned bungalow. He had fallen asleep straight away. Now he was woken up by someone knocking on the door, a fluffy throw rug with hibiscus flowers on it tucked around his legs. Quinn must have done that when she came home for her break. He was groggy and disoriented at first, feeling a little hungover and nauseated from the weed, but pushed the blanket away to get up. He had a bandage wrapped around his hand and more dressings over the tattoo on his chest to just protect the wounds for the first few days. He winced as he moved and tried to brush his sleep-messed hair down a little before he answered the door. As tempting as it was, he never not answered the door or his cell if he was feeling mostly okay, on the chance it was someone coming to tell him Blaine had arrived.

When he pulled open the door, though, seeing who it was there, despite the forewarning, all Kurt could do when he saw his old friend was promptly burst into tears again. He tried to hold back facing her as some sort of stupid punishment to the island for not bringing him Blaine, but really, he was scared to hear any bad news from back home. He always dreaded that part.

And that was the moment Mercedes' heart broke all over again just when she was sure it wasn't capable of breaking anymore than it had. Her breath had caught up in a sharp gasp when Kurt answered the door. She realised she had been expecting Puck's story to be all fantasy and that Kurt wasn't really alive here at all. When you died, you died for good in her religion. You went to heaven if you belonged there and that was it. There was no suspended reality or reincarnation. There was no coming back from the dead. Kurt was wonderful and fabulous, but he wasn't Jesus Christ, and wouldn't damn well want to be either. But here he was. Standing there looking beautiful, yet broken, and before he stunned shock really hit her, Kurt's tears were flowing and a heartbroken sob fell from his lips.

All the rest of the stuff, it stopped mattering. She just reached out, took his hand and then pulled him into a secure and protective hug, her lips falling in a kiss to his temple. "Oh god, you're alive! Honey, you're alive... I've missed you so much... so, so much..."

Suddenly the whole concept of the island seemed too much for Kurt. He wanted to know when Mercedes was from, knowing it was after his death, but it was just too much for him to handle right at that very minute. He had missed Mercedes beyond belief and he was glad she had come to the island, but she still wasn't Blaine, and in just a matter of days, he had to deal with Jeff coming and then Mercedes. Not Blaine. Every time Blaine didn't come, it felt like Kurt's heart was getting ripped out by the roots all over again. He knew he couldn't become of those inherently lost and miserable islanders who sat every single day waiting for their loved one to arrive, but it really was coming to that point with him. It was more impacted in the wake of their anniversary, but he was suddenly starting to wonder if something had happened to Blaine back home that prevented him coming to the island. Surely Kurt's death would have been enough to spark the necessary need to escape that brought people here?

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered through the tears. Mercedes was still a new arrival and he didn't want to freak her out being all dead man walking. He pulled back a little to wipe desperately at his eyes to rid them of the tears that kept wanting to fall. "I've just been having a few bad days. I was just... sleeping... I... c-coffee? Would you like coffee? I don't exactly know how to best be hospitable when I'm you're dead best friend and you're discovering a magical island of mystery without at least caffeine to wake me up a little."

Mercedes was pretty sure this was what seeing a ghost felt like. Now that it was sinking in that Kurt really was standing here breathing, heart beating, in front of her and not buried under the earth she spent hours knelt on talking to him after his death, all she could do was just stand there and stare at him. She became lost for words, and it was still breaking her heart to see him so visibly upset and aching that she couldn't be Blaine. If someone had suggested to her that maybe after he had been killed, Kurt had come to a tropical island in a magical mystery place for a second chance, in her fantasy, Blaine would have been with him. He wouldn't have been here all alone and miserable, tears streaming down his face.

That was when she realised he must have been sleeping. She was so overwhelmed with just seeing him that she had missed all the basics of the situation. He was in pyjamas, his hair was tussled messily over his head. It was any wonder he was all over the place with his freshly-woken brain trying to process her appearance after he said he didn't want to see her. "Why don't you tell me where everything is, honey, and I'll make the coffee? You can sit down and catch your breath a lil," she suggested, finding it surreal how easily she was slotting right back into the role of his best friend after all this time without him.

But it was Kurt. All she ever wanted was to continuously put her arms around him and protect him from the world hurting him. The day he died in front of them all, he knew there wasn't a single person on the lawn of that function place that didn't feel like they had failed him.

[TAG KURT OR QUINN] "Cause even angel's die, but that light just fades. It's so sad, but he'd be so

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