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One Shot- Reassurances (kc)

February 27th, 1994

She admired the serenity of the empty house as she sat at the small dining table, a warm mug clasped in her hands and book nestled comfortably between her legs. The quiet pitter-patter of rain on her dark window added to the calm; she had always liked rainy days. She took a sip of her drink, mug clinking against the table as she set it down, and continued to read.

She had gotten to an exciting section of the plot when a knock sounded at her door. It wasn't particularly loud; tentative, almost. She glanced upwards in surprise and slight annoyance, taking a quick look at the clock mounted on the kitchen counter. 11:53. Who could be here at this hour?

For a second or two, she wondered if she had imagined the small noise, until it sounded again, this time with more insistence. With a minute sigh, she set her book face-down on the table and stood up, walking to the door.

She pulled it open with a slight creak, sounds amplified by the quiet of night. All her reservations dissipated as soon as she saw his familiar face. Kurt Cobain.

He was standing on her porch, dirty blond hair catching any trace of the light from street lamps as it hung over and stuck to his face. He was wearing one of those comfy sweaters he always wore when something was up. She couldn't see his expression due to the shadows, but she could easily imagine his dejected look from years of seeing it firsthand. His entire body was slicked with rain. Had he not come with an umbrella?

"Kurt!" She exclaimed, slightly hushed, "Come on in."

He did as she said, stepping into the house. His hands were clasped anxiously in front of him, and everything about his choice of dress screamed "comfort". He was wearing that familiar pair of beat-up shoes, those baggy jeans and a sweater that hung loosely on his shoulders. When she got a good look at his face, she realized it was even worse than she had anticipated.

His cheeks were pulled awkwardly, as if he was trying his absolute best not to display his discomfort and frustration. Clearly, it bled through regardless. His eyes were sunken and dull, clearly signifying a lack of sleep.

She stepped a bit closer to him, tenderly brushing his wet hair out of his face. He watched her, but made no move to stop her. In fact, she swore she felt him lean in to her touch.

"God, Kurt, what happened?" She breathed to herself. Kurt didn't respond, though she knew he had heard her.

Instead, he spoke up after a slight pause, "Uhm-" his voice wavered and he swallowed, throat bobbing, before continuing, "I- really needed some other place to spend the night."

He offered no elaboration or further explanation on why.

"I hope that's okay with you, uh if not that's fine I'll just go back-"

"No, no, Kurt, of course it's fine. I'd never turn down my own brother." She offered him a comforting smile.

His demeanor seemed to loosen slightly with relief, "Okay, thank you. It really means a lot to me, letting me stay here-"

She cut him off with a soft chuckle, "You don't need to thank me, Kurt. After all, we are family. Now, let's get you changed, 'kay?"

He nodded, letting her lead him to the bathroom as she passed him some clean, dry clothes that he had forgotten to take back the last time he was there.

She used the time it took him to change to tidy up her reading materials and wash her mug, before turning on the bedside lamp and spreading the blankets. By the time he walked into the bedroom, everything was ready. They brushed and completed their bedtime routines with few words exchanged, although the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It never was, between them.

They slipped into bed next to each other. A small moment of silence ensued before she felt Kurt turn onto his side, facing her and curling up closer to her. She immediately reciprocated, shifting closer and wrapping a warm arm around his frail frame, but frowned slightly. If Kurt was instigating physical contact, then it must've been bad. She couldn't let the silence stretch on any longer.

"Kurt?" She whispered into the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Are... are things alright with Courtney?"

His body stiffened. For a second she thought she had crossed a line, and was about to apologize, when she heard him inhale a shaky breath.

"I- I just don't know." His body was shaking against hers.

She placed a soothing kiss to his forehead, "Don't worry, Kurt, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No! I- well I do want to talk!"

She nodded, carding a hand through his hair, not rushing him. It was his choice.

"I just- I just feel so overwhelmed. I wanna be good for Frances but how can I if I can't even sort out myself? I wanna get better, I want to so much- but it's so hard to get the motivation and I don't feel like doing it and then I just give in to it and end up feeling so guilty later on down the line.

"And how can I give Bean a good childhood when her parents can't even agree on anything? I don't want her to end up like me, hopping between households they don't give a shit about and never being able to stay sober. How do I prevent it? I know Courtney and I are gunna crash and burn, but I can't seem to get myself to stop her. Or me, for that matter. What do I even do? God, sis, I'm such a fuck up."

At this, she had to cut in.

"No, Kurt, you're not a fuck up. I understand you. I've known you since the day you were born and you never were and never will be 'a fuck up'. What you're going through is hard. But your issues and emotions are completely valid, and, honestly, I can relate to what you've just said. Your addiction does not define you; nor does your relationship. And remember, if anything happens, there are people that'll always have your back. I will, and I know Dave and Krist will as well, if you let them. You will be a good parent to Frances, because you love her and I know you'll always try your hardest. And that's what's important. That you're truly trying."

His chest heaved against her, "Thank you. I-" his voice cracked, trailing off for a moment, "I needed to hear that."

His breathing slowed, and he seemed less distraught, previously tensed muscles relaxing under her careful embrace.

She nodded, smiling slightly as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, "No problem. Love you, Kurt."

"Love you too." He whispered tiredly. She could tell the emotional exertion was taking its toll on him, and had been for a while now.

She planted another kiss on his forehead, "Get some rest. G'night." She felt Kurt nod.

With a relieved smile and her brother by her side, she drifted off.

A/N: Woooahhh sorry for the long wait, things have been hectic in my personal life recently. Hope you enjoyed this part!

Question: What're your opinions on Kurt's death?