For Keeps

27. Who looked after you.

*Trigger warning: conversation about suicide and evil spirits. Read somewhere safe and definitely turn the page to the next chapter for Cary Douglas to do some good juju for Jon and Kurt!*

{Kurt}

Jon took a turn to drive while Kurt tore into the snacks. "Mmm, the rainbow tastes like sugar and citric acid," Kurt said, popping Skittles in his mouth three at a time. "Hold out your hand, White." Jon obliged, and Kurt dumped a sugary rainbow in his palm. "I think red is best but you let me know."

Jon thoughtfully ate one Skittle at a time, examining the colour before he put them in his mouth. "Green," he said softly.

"Oh, perfect," Kurt said. "Because now you can have my greens and I can have your reds." He picked through the package, handing Jon green Skittles one at a time. "Why don't you cry, White? Can you tell me that story?"

Jon's forehead wrinkled as he chewed on a Skittle. "I've been trying to think how to start. I've never--told this story to anyone. I think my dad knows? We never talk about it. Maybe he thinks I don't remember." He said the last very softly.

With the prairie dark pressing all around their car, Kurt felt as if they were the last people alive on earth. "Green all gone," he said sadly, poking through the candies.

Jon cracked his water bottle and took a long drink. "What do you have that's salty category, Visser?"

"Mm," Kurt reached between his long legs to dig out the raw, salted almonds he thought would be just the thing for his partner. "Here you go, love." He tore the top of the plastic sleeve, pouring out a little handful to pass to Jon.

Jon ate almonds one at a time as he quietly unfolded his story. "So, um. This is what I remember of this day. December 11. We left the hospital. I didn't hug Judah. It was my mom--my dad stayed the night. And um. I couldn't stop crying in the tub. I thought I was, like, drowning in my tears. And my mom was crying too." Jon paused, as if he was sorting through the three identical almonds in his free hand. "We were a mess. Anyways. I guess she tucked me in and I cried myself to sleep.

"The next morning--" For the first time Jon's voice hitched, and he wiped his empty hand on his leg. "December 12th," Jon said. "She didn't get me up. My mom. She didn't tap on my door to say 'breakfast time.' And I think I didn't remember what happened. You know when you wake up and it takes a minute for the previous day to hit you? So I went out to pee or whatever and my--"

Jon's voice dried up and his hands tightened on the wheel. He cleared his throat softly. "My mom is on the floor. Of the bathroom. Like she's sleeping." His eyes touched the dark of the rear-view. "And I wish I didn't remember this with such fucking clarity."

Kurt twisted his hands together, heart aching. He wanted to stop this story, just push it back into the realm of infinite possibilities and find another way for this day to have unfolded for his partner's little self.

Pressing his lips in a hard line, Jon took a breath and went on. "My mom was breathing but she wouldn't wake up. So I--went and got the big phone from the kitchen. And punched in the number we learned to call in kindergarten if there's an emergency and no grownup. And I don't think the operator knew how young I was. Because I was so calm telling her what happened.

"So she says--someone's coming but she needs my help. And tells me how to save my mom. How to, you know, put her in a recovery position. I learned all this shit in first aid class later." Jon's hands twisted around the wheel. "And I can't do it. I put this big phone down on the sink and try...but my mom is a lot bigger than me and--it's scaring me how, like, heavy and floppy she is. And her mouth doesn't look right."