APRIL, 1993, SEATTLE, WA

           FOR THE FIRST time ever in her entire life, Lindy was beginning to take seriously the idea of getting married and having kids. 

It wasn't as if this dream had never crossed her mind before — there had been plenty, if not countless times when she had daydreamed of her perfect wedding and starting a family with the person that she loved.

Most of the time, Kurt had inhabited these dreams as that someone that she shared all of it with. In the time that he had been removed from her life, Jack had idly taken his place, but had never truly fit amongst those dreams. But just as she had done as a teenager, Lindy was trying very hard to picture herself in five, ten, even twenty years down the road.

Maybe it was because Allie had recently sent a picture in the mail of her and Trae — her belly was starting to really show. 

Twenty-four was not an old age by any means, but Lindy looked back on the past and couldn't help but to laugh at herself. When she had been nine, drawing colorful pictures in her room and listening to an old Van Morrison record playing 'Crazy Love,' she had idealized that she'd be married by twenty and have at least two kids by twenty-three. So far, she had swiftly missed both of those benchmarks. 

Instead, she had fallen in love with someone who still remained unattainable to her even when he laid in her bed, unclothed and caressing her morning-mused hair out of her face. It was moments like these where Lindy deeply regretted sending Kurt out of her apartment on the fateful day when they had split.

If she had just stuck through it, if she had persisted in their relationship and loved him harder, maybe they wouldn't have been in such a fucked up situation. She was almost sure that they would have been perfectly fine.

Kurt wouldn't be married, for one thing. He wouldn't have a child, which was something Lindy hated wishing for. She never lumped Frances into her fantasy of keeping Kurt just the way he'd been back in nineteen-ninety. She wanted Kurt to always have the joy of his daughter. But regardless, if she had tried her very best, they may have been married by then. Back then, Kurt had told her that by the coming December, he had wanted to marry her.

Maybe they would have even had a baby of their own. A baby with Kurt's features and Lindy's dark eyes . . .

And most important of all, Lindy could feel a deep resonating feeling in her heart that she could have prevented Kurt's insatiable draw to heroin. She would have stopped it before it had even come to fruition in his thoughts. There would have been no need for him to start to begin with. 

"You're so quiet," Kurt whispered. His soft lips brushed past Lindy's forehead and she shivered. The window to her bedroom was open, allowing the cool April air to permeate into her apartment.

"I'm always thinking," Lindy sighed. It was true. Her mind always seemed to be running into overdrive those days. 

"I'd never encourage you to not think, but maybe I could distract you for a little," Kurt suggested slyly.

He rolled over on top of her, cupping his hand against her cheek and kissing her deeply, slowly. When his body was fully on top of hers, a shudder of longing rippled down to her legs. They were still undressed from the early morning, in which Kurt's first initiative upon waking up had been to pick up where they had left off the night before. 

Lindy breathed heavily when Kurt drew his lips from hers, dragging his mouth down her neck and to her chest, where he placed loving kisses across her bare breasts. His hand slipped beneath the sheets, lingering between her legs. She jerked responsively at his touch, emitting a soft moan.

"You've got endurance today," she managed to stammer, her words stifled by the excessive rise and fall of her chest.

Kurt chuckled throatily, a familiar little laugh that drove Lindy absolutely mad with desire. He lifted his face back up to hers, placing his arms on either side of her head and lovingly brushing her hair back with his hand.

"I love you so fucking much," he said, pressing the tip of his nose to hers. 

Lindy started to respond, prepared to assure him that she loved him more than he could ever begin to imagine, but he decided right at that moment to move his hips against hers and push his way into her with tender effort.

She gasped, tangling her fingers in his hair as he too let out a shaking pant, nearly losing his balance over her when he felt how well she fit with him, like their bodies were meant to be connected. It was difficult for Kurt — making love to Lindy almost gave him just the same gratifying feeling of shooting up delicious China white into his veins. But the only difference was, he couldn't take her bed whenever he so pleased.

This continued on for quite some time until Lindy, out of breath and reasonably sticky with sweat, rolled over and held up her hands.

"I think I need a shower," she breathed, lifting her hand to her slick forehead.

Kurt reached over to the nightstand, fingering a cigarette out of his pack of Marlboros and placing it between his lips. He grabbed his lighter and lit it with ease, handing another cigarette to Lindy and holding the flame to the tip. The only sound was the click of the closing Zippo lighter and their heavy exhales on their morning smokes.

"Why do I feel eighteen again right now," Lindy laughed, taking the cigarette between her fingers.

Kurt snorted and looked down at the sheets, gripping them in his fist and going quiet. When he became silent in this way, Lindy wondered if he was thinking about Courtney and Frances. She could never be sure, only because Kurt's mind was an encyclopedia of random thoughts.

"Doesn't she ever wonder where you are," Lindy asked quietly.

Kurt did not need further explanation as to who 'her' was. He sighed, smoke seeping in one fast breath of air from his nostrils.

"She doesn't really care where I go these days. We're so . . . unattached. I see it in her eyes. She wants to love me, but she loves the opportunities I offer more than me myself."

"Opportunities?"

"Don't let me fool you. She's well off without me. Her band does just as fucking well as mine, I'll give her that. She's really talented. But she sees me and all that she sees is idealistic, putrid, stinking rockstar heaven. We're supposed to be the next Sid and Nancy, you know."

"I won't make you talk about her," Lindy said softly. "I know you said that you'd never talk about her behind her back."

"I did say that, until I realized how much she talks about me behind my back."

Kurt didn't say any more on the matter. Instead, he smoked his cigarette down to its end, eyeing the charring paper with intense scrutiny. He disposed of it in an ash tray that he had placed on Lindy's nightstand before finally initiating conversation again.

"Have you ever heard of the book 'What Dreams May Come?'" he asked casually.

"No, I haven't," Lindy said.

"It's about this husband and wife. The husband dies and goes to his version of heaven, but the wife, whose still alive, gets depressed over his death. The husband attempts to contact her and makes a few pretty good tries out of it, because somehow they're still tethered to one another even through a distance of worlds."

Kurt paused, giving Lindy a chance to process the beginning of the story. She nuzzled closer to him, finding a niche against his chest where she could listen.

"Anyways, the wife can't handle the sadness of it all and decides to commit suicide. The husband doesn't think much of it at first because he thinks they'll be reunited in death, but it turns out that all suicides go to hell."

"I don't believe that," Lindy said, interrupting his retelling. "I don't think that people who commit suicide go to hell."

"It's not the hell that you're probably thinking of. It's not fire and eternal fields of damnation, or whatever the Bible says. It's more of an everlasting, unchanging version of the pain that the person experienced in their mortal life. An exaggerated take on their depression, if you will. And they're trapped in it forever, at least according to the book."

"Sounds pretty much like hell to me."

"I guess it is, but I don't know. But the husband isn't okay with leaving his wife in hell. He's told he can't bring her back, but he goes to hell anyway and makes it through. And he brings his wife out of it and takes her to heaven, something that he was told was impossible."

"How'd he do it?"

"Because they were soulmates. Only soulmates could walk through hell for one another and remove their lover from suffering."

"That's kind of beautiful," Lindy observed, a small smile playing at her lips. Kurt took her hand.

"I got the book at an old thrift shop in L.A. When I read it, I thought of you. I thought about how I'd walk through hell easily for you. I know I'd save you from it if it came to that."

"I'd save you from hell too," Lindy whispered. It may have been only a book that they were talking about, but she suddenly took him seriously. If pledging to walk through hell for him would prove how much she loved him, then she would do it. 

"It's because . . . it's because we're soulmates," Kurt explained in a quiet voice. "Not even death could keep us apart. Not even hell and heaven."

Lindy stretched her body upright in order to kiss his lips, feeling a familiar swell of love when she felt them fit perfectly against her own.

Soulmates.

He was right, somehow. Her soul, the living breathing light that made her who she was, was surely bound to him in ways beyond the understanding of the universe. She'd known that since she had met him.

"I already knew that," she said, kissing alongside his face. "Because I already lived through hell being without you for two years. And heaven must be real if we found each other again."

_________

Kurt stayed late that night, later than he normally did during his his secret visits. The evening rolled around, bringing muggy darkness with it and Kurt remained at Lindy's apartment, walking around in pajama bottoms with no shirt.

"Are you sure this okay?" Lindy said nervously, watching as he served himself a helping of the Kraft noodles that she'd boiled on the stove for him.

"She's recording with her band," Kurt affirmed. "And knowing her, she's going to go hang at Eric's place once it's over."

"What about Frances?"

"With her nanny. I'd go to her, but . . . I really need to take advantage of this freedom that I have with you," Kurt said, laughing bitterly. It was obvious that the smoke and mirrors of their hidden relationship was getting to be a little disheartening.

"I wish you could spend the night again," Lindy said glumly.

"That was cutting it close," Kurt frowned. If Courtney had not been absent from their newly purchased Lake Washington house for the last two days, they would have found themselves in deep trouble.

A sharp, rapping knock at the front door suddenly distracted them both.

Kurt shot up off the couch in panic and Lindy's eyes widened with horror as her limbs stiffened with an onslaught of white-hot fear.

'What do I do?' Kurt mouthed, setting down his bowl of macaroni and cheese quietly on the coffee table.

'Bedroom,' Lindy mouthed back, gesturing hurriedly towards her dark room.

Kurt followed her order, scampering into her bedroom and out of immediate sight. Lindy, whose hands had started to shake as they normally did in stressful situations, stared at her front door.

If she and Kurt were about to be caught, she'd have to handle it like an adult. This day had always been coming in the back of her mind.

When she opened the door though, her jaw nearly came unhinged with force in which it fell.

"Jack!" Lindy spluttered.

Jack stood in front her, grinning and holding a grease-stained bag of McDonalds food. He was wearing a coat and looking as handsome as he normally did, his blonde hair swept back neatly.

"Hey Lindy," he beamed. "Sorry for the late notice, but I was driving around your area and I saw a McDonalds and I thought of you . . ."

"Oh," Lindy squeaked. "You saw a McDonalds and thought of me?"

Jack laughed embarrassedly. "Yeah but only because I still know your order by heart. And I thought that I'd bring you dinner, because why not, right? We can still do friendly things like that."

"Jack, that's so . . . sweet," Lindy stammered. Her chest was starting to hurt; her heart was slamming away beneath her ribcage knowing that Kurt was in the next room and could hear every word that was being exchanged.

"Can I come in?" Jack asked, glancing inside the apartment.

"Um, honestly Jack, now's not a good time . . .," Lindy said, though she hated having to tell him no. It felt rude considering what he'd done for her.

Jack's eyes flickered across the room behind Lindy and fell on the bowl of macaroni and cheese sitting on her coffee table.

"Oh. You've already eaten?" he presumed.

"Yes," Lindy confirmed hastily, taking advantage of his assumption. "I made dinner just now, actually."

Suddenly, Jack's happy face fell slack with what Lindy could only guess was shock. He lowered the bag of McDonalds, his mouth rounding in disbelief. His eyes were staring directly over her shoulder at something she could not see.

Lindy spun on her heels, desperate to know what he was looking at.

Kurt was standing in the hallway, still in his pajama bottoms but now wearing the Half Japanese shirt he'd first came to the apartment in. His face was passive as he watched them both.

"Hey," Kurt said easily, raising his eyebrows. 

Lindy thought that she was going to die — no, she had died. She was aware that her conscience was floating out of her body and hanging somewhere above her, watching the scene unfold like some kind of horror movie. 

"I . . . I didn't mean to intrude . . . Lindy, that's . . . that's . . ."

Jack held the bag of food up with a wobbling hand, completely taken aback to see MTV's most treasured rockstar standing only several feet from him. In his ex-girlfriend's apartment. Wearing pajama pants.

Lindy closed her eyes and accepted the McDonald's bag. It was all she could do to keep herself from throwing her body over the third story ledge of her apartment floor.

"I'll call you later, Jack," she said firmly, closing the door as Jack remained still, looking distraughtly flustered over seeing Kurt Cobain in Lindy's apartment.