Strange- Kurt Cobain

Rest Easy

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, I was staring at a ceiling. Was it all a dream? Then I felt the pain. 

"Son of a fucking BITCH!" I whispered. 

Apparently I wasn't as quiet as I thought because I heard footsteps running towards me and I looked up and realized I was in an unfamiliar trashy living room, pizza boxes and beer bottles scattered about. 

Then I looked down at the beat up converse on the floor and up at the face of Kurt Cobain. He looked concerned, angry, and worried all at the same time. 

"How did I get here? Where the fuck am I? How?" I asked, wanting to know what the hell happened.

He sat on the coffee table across from me. "We have a lot to talk about, we're at Krist's place, his parents aren't home for the week, and he's at work." He stated.

"There ain't shit to talk about Kurt" I somewhat snapped at him.

He stood up running a hand through his hair, "what do ya mean there's nothin' to talk about? Your father was beating the fuck out of you! He was saying terrible things to you! How long has he been doing this? Why-" I interrupted him

"STOP I KNOW WHAT HE WAS DOING, WHY DO YOU CARE!!" I shouted standing up, too raged to feel my stomach pain. Tears brimming my eyes. 

"HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN DOING THIS TO YOU!!" He shouted back.

"Who. The. Fuck. Cares" I growled and ran out the door, I tried to run down the hall, but my stomach pain kicked in and it was slowing me down. Before I knew it Kurt had wrapped his arms around my waist and dragged me back into the apartment. "All of us care. Krist. Jason. And Me." He said lowly. 

"Now tell me how long he's been doing this Beverly." Kurt said sternly. 

I looked away as I seethed the words, "my whole life.." 

I looked up at his face and he looked sad, and angry. "My WHOLE fucking life" I repeated to myself more quietly, and unconscious tears were streaming down my face, as I realized that I really was abused my whole life. 

And for that moment that I silently broke down, Kurt hugged me, the whole time and told me he was sorry that I had to go through that shit. I felt cared for, for the first time since my mother passed, I felt like someone was genuinely there for me. 

*****

After I had calmed down Kurt let go, "we'll talk more later, but right now lets get you cleaned up. I've got an ace bandage wrap and some antibiotics, and I'll um give ya some sweats and a t-shirt" he said awkwardly. I could tell he wasn't used to caring for someone like this, as I wasn't used to being cared for. He led me to the bathroom where I informed him that I could wrap myself up, so then he left but when it came to getting undressed I embarrassingly couldn't do it. It hurt too bad.

"Kurt!" I called, he walked in and looked at me confused. 

I groaned in frustration, "I can't fuckin' dress myself" I said in an embarrassed  tone.

He didn't show any emotion in his face and walked over, "stand up" he said softly and helped pull my shirt over my head. He tried hard not to linger on my breasts but he failed. "Those are nice" He smirked. 

"I might be crippled but I can still beat your ass Cobain" I commented, trying not to laugh. 

He chuckled and pulled down my leggings, getting them off of my feet. He grabbed the sweatpants and practically placed me inside of them. Then slipped the shirt over my head. 

"Thanks" I said, Kurt nodded and he helped me to the couch. 

I laid down and he sat next to me, "wanna order a pizza and watch a movie?" He asked.

"Hell yes."