Kurt Cobain Imagines

A Piece of Hope (Part 2)

Kurt's POV
I stared at the phone, palms sweating. I could feel my body shaking all over. Just call him, a voice in my head kept telling me. It's Darren. You've known him forever. I had known him forever, that was true. But what happened three days ago had changed everything.
I couldn't stop thinking about when he'd kissed me. It wasn't entirely surprising, I guess. I had suspicions at times that he might have felt that way about me. There had been times, over the years, where I had wondered about it—wondered if the love I felt for him had been more than platonic—but I never expected that we'd ever act on it.
Nothing else had happened after he kissed me. We didn't talk about it. We just stayed cuddled on the couch while the kids played, until he and little Jayshaun eventually left. We had exchanged a goodbye hug, but that was all. Now, I didn't know what to do. It scared me a little... maybe he regretted it, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing my very best friend. Or maybe he didn't regret it, I found myself hoping. But then what the hell was I supposed to do?
I was stuck in this nightmare with Courtney. I had to maintain this fucking facade for the world, despite our constant ugly fights. I was sick of her making me cry, driving me to use when I had been trying so hard not to, making me feel like I didn't want to exist anymore because I just didn't see a way out of this. I was horrified that she'd start arguments with me in front of Frances. My little girl didn't need to see that and it shattered my heart.
If I got a divorce, the media would inevitably find out, and I felt sick just imagining the fabricated stories that would circulate. I had to protect Frances from that. I was already horrified that she'd grow up to someday see all the things that were said about her parents. I hated to imagine what she might think of me one day. I brushed tears away from my eyes as I continued to stare at the phone.
I couldn't believe I had actually told Darren what was going on. I usually kept all of these things to myself, not wanting anyone's fucking pity. I was so used to keeping things from Dave and Krist. They were my best friends, too, but they didn't deserve the band being jeopardized by my bullshit. I usually just held it all inside. But Darren was so easy to talk to—always so understanding and kind— a true friend who would never sell me out to the media; one who would keep my secrets. I wasn't used to that.
Just call. I swallowed back the bile that I was practically choking on, trying to ignore the crippling pain in my stomach. I drew in a deep breath and picked up the receiver, dialing the number that I knew by heart.
"Hello?" A voice I would recognize anywhere answered on the second ring.
"Hey, man. It's Kurt."
"Hey," I heard his voice brighten and I found myself smiling. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," I answered vaguely. "How are you?"
"Oh, same as always," he answered. I knew him well enough to know that he was thinking about when we had kissed, not knowing what to say. "Just spending time with Jayshaun, and, uh, thinking a lot, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," I answered honestly. "Umm, anyway, Courtney is going away this weekend. I know it's kind of last minute, but I was wondering if you and Jayshaun would want to come and stay here with me. I—uh—I just don't feel like being alone. The nanny will be here for Frances. She can help with Jayshaun, too." I paused, nervously twisting the phone cord between my fingers. I didn't know what Darren would think about what I had asked. We had never done this before. But I wanted him here with me. I didn't want to be alone.
"Umm, yeah, Kurt. We can do that," Darren answered tentatively. I could feel the uncertainty between us, and I needed to fix it, somehow, because I knew I needed him in my life, in some capacity. "When should we come over?"
"How about around seven on Friday?" I suggested, knowing that Courtney would certainly be gone by then.
"Okay," he answered. "Sounds good."

And now it was nearly 11:00 on Friday night. We had gotten the kids to bed shortly after Darren had arrived. We had settled in on the couch to watch a movie, cuddling together in what was little more than a platonic way. I remembered very little of the movie because I couldn't help but be hyper aware of every place that our bodies were touching.
It scared me. Not the fact that I was finding myself attracted to a man—fuck homophobes. I couldn't have cared less about their opinions. It was just that Darren was my best friend. I had so few true friends anymore that I couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing our friendship. Plus, there was always Courtney, smiling to my face while she stabbed knives into my back—so many times now that I was numb to it. I had loved her so much, at one time, but her actions had pushed me to slowly replace that love with indifference. Sometimes I felt like I must have been made up entirely of scar tissue from all the hurt people had caused me. I was a black hole, imploding into itself— a lost soul trapped in this pathetic little shell of a man who was expected to be the voice of a generation. God help them if any of them ended up like me. I was the last person who should have ever been anyone's role model.
I knew Darren well enough to know that he was holding back from kissing me again, wanting to see if I would make the next move. He knew me well enough that I was sure he could sense my apprehension. I just hoped he knew it had everything to do with me and nothing to do with him. I was so fucking nervous. Too nervous— a goddamned coward.
Now, he had gone to bed in the guest room I'd offered to him and I was here, wide awake and alone in my bedroom, thoughts racing. I wanted to use so badly I could hardly take it. I just needed my fucking mind to calm down.
The fucking guest room. I had blown it. He deserved better than a fucking weakling, vile bastard like me. Besides breaking his heart, I was likely destroying my longest and most meaningful friendship—just like I destroyed everything.
I was sure that I was going to be sick, but I fought to hold it back. You fucking piece of trash, Kurt Cobain. You don't need to ruin another person's life. You've done enough damage already, I thought to myself.
I was crying, clinging to a pillow and sobbing—a miserable little son-of-a-bitch—neurotic and ridiculously pathetic. Just imagine the fucking world seeing this, I thought, bitterly. Their big-time rock star is an even bigger fucking fraud.
I sat up and lit a cigarette. I held a hand to my forehead as I took a long drag. Fuck. Withdrawal was a bitch and my head was starting to pound. Quit fucking feeling sorry for yourself, I chastised. This is no one's fucking fault but your own. Get it together.
I couldn't help but keep thinking of Darren, alone, in the guest bedroom. I was sure he was hurting. I could hardly stand it.
I put out my cigarette, gathering every bit of courage I could muster. I drew in a deep breath and stood up. I would go and talk to him, at least, I decided.
I tiptoed quietly into the hallway and down the hall to the guest room. I stood outside, staring at the door, wondering if I was about to ruin everything and lose my closest friend. I reached out my hand and knocked, wondering if Darren was even still awake.
"Come in!" I heard his voice call. I stepped through the door to find him sitting in bed, reading a book by the light of a small lamp on the nightstand. He looked so peaceful, as he glanced up at me, eyes gleaming in the dim light. He was handsome and kind—a good person— someone who deserved better than me. I was the fuel that kept feeding my dumpster fire of a life—a study in hypocrisy. I pushed the door shut behind me.
"I feel like we should talk, Darren," I said nervously, staring down at my bare feet sticking out from the bottom of my flannel pajamas.
"Sure, Kurt," Darren answered, sitting down his book. He patted on the bed. "You can sit down." I took a seat on the side of the bed opposite him. "What's up?" He asked gently.
"I—I'm—I don't want to mess up our friendship," I started, staring nervously at my hands that fidgeted in my lap. "Umm— I just..."
Darren cut me off.
"Listen, Kurt. I didn't mean to complicate things by kissing you the other day. I know you have a lot going on... I'm sorry."
"No. God, no. Darren, I don't regret it. Please don't think that."
"You don't?" He asked, sounding surprised.
"It's just... Fuck. I don't know what to do."
"I'm here for you," Darren offered simply, and I appreciated that sentiment more than anything else he could have said.
"Thank you," I answered. "I—um—I'm having a lot of trouble tonight." I couldn't believe I was admitting this to another human. "You know... with, um, wanting to use... and with being alone."
"You can stay here with me if you want to, Kurt," Darren offered.
"Really? You wouldn't mind?" I asked.
"Of course not," he answered with a chuckle. I peeled back the covers, climbing into bed next to him. Suddenly I was just overwhelmed with the need to be close to him. I climbed over and wrapped my arms around him, much like he had done to me. He embraced me back, holding me like I was important—like I mattered.
I felt a whole flood of emotions hit me, and the next thing I knew, I was sobbing like a god damn child. I couldn't hold it inside anymore. I was so humiliated that if Darren hadn't been holding me so tightly against him, I probably would have run away. But I stayed.
He stroked my hair gently, and it was very calming. I couldn't remember the last time that someone held me like this. Courtney was not particularly affectionate in that way.
"It's okay, Kurt. It's all going to be okay. I've got you."
I honestly didn't know how the fuck anything would ever be okay for me anymore. Addiction was killing me—if I didn't take matters into my own hands first, it was surely going to take my life. I wished it would... I honestly wasn't sure how it was possible that it hadn't already.
But lying here with Darren was becoming so peaceful, so relaxing, that I felt the plague of thoughts that were consuming me start to recede a little. My nail-biting desire to use ebbed a bit. My crying stopped and I breathed a little deeper— more slowly, realizing how ridiculously fucking tired I was. I'd barely slept in days, despite being home to try to rest for a bit.
"Thank you," I muttered sleepily.
"For what?" Darren asked.
"For caring about me." He rested on his back and I snuggled closer to him.
"You don't ever have to thank me for that, Kurt." He very softly placed a kiss on my forehead. It was such a sweet gesture. I found a small smile spreading across my face as I fell into the deepest sleep I'd had in ages.

My eyes fluttered open and I saw light pouring through the window. I was confused for a second— this wasn't my bedroom. Then I remembered the night before. I remembered Darren being so sweet to me, making me feel more at peace than I had in such a long time. I realized that I was still resting against him, and who knows how long I had slept.
"Good morning, Kurt." I glanced up and saw him smiling at me, eyes gleaming, and I couldn't help but smile too.
"Morning. Fuck, how long did I sleep?" I rubbed my eyes and yawned, noticing that, while my body still ached, and the desire to use still gnawed at me like it seemingly always would, I felt better rested than I had in a very long time.
"It's just after nine," Darren answered.
"Nine?!" I was shocked. I never slept that much. "And you've just been awake here with me?" I asked.
"For a little while, yeah. You needed the rest." He rubbed his hand over my back. "Plus, you do snore sometimes, Kurt," he added with a small laugh, smirking at me in a way that was adorable. I smiled and shook my head.
"I'm sorry, Darren. I really don't deserve you," I added seriously.
"I want to be here for you, Kurt. In whatever way you want me to be. But that's all I want."
"I want that too," I confessed, the words leaving my mouth before I had time to overthink them.
I raised my head from his chest so that I was staring into his incredibly kind eyes. We gazed at one another for a long moment, not saying a word. Slowly, he reached out and rested his hand on the side of my face, brushing his thumb against my cheek. I drew in a shaky breath.
"Can—can I kiss you again, Kurt?" His voice was barely above a whisper. I nodded, unable to form words.
He was gentle and sweet and perfect. I had never felt that someone had cared about me like this and it melted my heart. I wondered how I could have possibly had Darren in my life all these years and never really realized that I could have had this with him—that I could have been happy. That's what I was feeling—true happiness like I hadn't felt in ages. My heart was light; my demons were away. I put my hands on the sides of his face as we kept kissing, marveling at how his skin was so soft, with just slight stubble on his face from not shaving.
When we eventually stopped, he rested his forehead against mine, and he was smiling like I had never seen him smile. It was just dazzling to me. I couldn't help but grin too—something that I never did anymore.
"Kurt, I'm just so happy that you're letting me be here for you."
"I'm happy that you are here," I answered, honestly, snuggling against him again. "Let's just stay here for a while. The kids will be fine with the nanny."
He didn't put up any argument, just simply wrapped his arms around me. I wasn't sure what the future held, for us, for me even. But I knew that right here, in this moment, I was happier than I'd been in a long time. And I would cling to that feeling for as long as I could.