AS LINDY PREPARED for bed, she noticed that Kurt was nowhere to be found despite him having told her earlier that he was exhausted. She stood at her bedside, slipping into an old Scratch Acid t-shirt of Kurt's and long pair of pajama bottoms. She supposed that she could have gone to bed alone, but the action felt wrong. She wanted to be next to Kurt that night rather than by herself.

Lindy left their bedroom, slinking down the hallway and waiting for her ears to identify the usual sound of guitar strumming coming from his music room. But there was nothing.

She decided to check there anyway; as much as Kurt loved late night television, she didn't envision him to be downstairs, tempering his mind from the events of such a long day.

Rounding one of the corners to the hall, Lindy spied the music room door opened to a minuscule crack. There were no lights on in the room, and she wondered momentarily if Kurt had perhaps fallen asleep rehearsing some lyrics. With gentle hands, she pushed the door open and allowed herself in.

He was there, laying on his small couch in the dark with his hands across his chest. Moonlight from the window drenched the room in hues of black and white, and Kurt seemed hypnotized by the night sky. Even when Lindy entered, he did not look away from the stars, instead keeping his vision trained on whatever had him so entranced.

He looked so at peace lying there that Lindy almost said nothing and turned back around. She would have happily gone to bed by herself knowing Kurt was at least okay, looking unbothered on his couch and surrounded by his instruments.

"Hey," she said, lilting her voice to a whisper, unable to not at least say goodnight. It didn't feel right to speak at full volume when everything around them was so tranquil.

Kurt looked towards Lindy, not even moving his head. He didn't smile, but his expression was smooth, desolate of trouble.

"Hey," he said back.

"Coming to bed anytime soon?"

Kurt's eyes found the sky once more as if it called to him, tugging his span of attention back in to its captivating mystery. In his flannel, Kurt looked warm and content to watch the heavens until the morning sun rose.

"In a little. I was just hanging out in here."

He picked himself up and moved over several inches, making space for Lindy. She smiled, knowing that the sight of them both crammed onto the tiny loveseat would have been hilarious from a different perspective. But Kurt was small, so that was an advantage to her snuggling up beside him.

She joined him, laying down and pressing her body to his. He fit so neatly against her, and their shared warmth was comfort at its finest. The light of the moon bathed their faces in white, leading Lindy to decide that Kurt appeared borderline angelic in the luminescence. Being over fifty years old had nothing on his good looks.

"I could fall asleep here," Lindy muttered, nuzzling into his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Me too," Kurt agreed. He twisted his face downwards and kissed Lindy's forehead, thankful that she had joined him. It turned out that he really didn't want to be alone after all.

Lindy didn't fall asleep though she certainly felt like she could. They both said nothing, but there was no dire need to fill the air with words when the quiet felt so nice. She traced her fingers up and down along his chest and recalled a memory that surprisingly was not deeply buried in her head. It had to do with rivers, hills and roads . . .

"Do you know what I was thinking about today?" Kurt said, capturing Lindy's attention back to him. She looked up, her nose skimming his jawline.

"What?"

"The MTV Unplugged session that Nirvana did back in ninety-three."

Lindy raised her eyebrows, curious as to why Kurt had drawn upon this specific memory of Nirvana. After the day they'd had, it made perfect sense as to why Kurt would have been thinking about the band's history, but she still wondered what had made him latch on to such a specific event in time.

"Really? Why's that?"

"A few reasons," Kurt began, his blue eyes gleaming in the light. He tucked the arm that wasn't wrapped around Lindy behind his head, halfway propping himself up.

"I've got time to listen to them all," Lindy insisted, though her eyes bobbed. Kurt snickered.

"Are you sure you're not going to fall asleep on me?"

"Promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

He combed his fingers through her hair, splayed out around them both like a halo. Lindy inhaled deeply, finding it ridiculous that Kurt wanted her to remain awake, yet was willing to lull her into sleepiness by touching her hair, a weakness he knew she would not prevail against.

"I really liked what we did with that performance," Kurt murmured. "It was nice, but I didn't expect that. The toned down sound and the acoustics. It made me want to do that for a change. But I never got the chance because almost right after that, Nirvana was over."

"Mhm hm," Lindy said, remembering how rapidly Nirvana had dissolved after the Unplugged session. And of course, there had been Kurt's attempted suicide which shortly followed.

"But I'm thinking that can still be possible," Kurt continued, his tone morphing into one of eagerness. "For the tribute show, we can bring back the acoustics. And maybe make an album that is similarly sounding too."

"An album?"

These two words properly jolted Lindy from her tiredness. She hoisted herself up on one elbow, her curtain of hair falling to one side as she stared down at Kurt who looked up at her hopefully. She was confused -- only hours earlier, Kurt had seemed terrified that Nirvana would ever potentially record again.

"Yeah. Is that a bad idea?"

"Uhm, no. But . . . do you want that?"

"Well, yeah, if it's going to be done how I want. I don't say that to be a dick, but I've always wanted to make a record like that Linds. And trust me, I've got the material."

Kurt sat up and reached behind the couch, lifting up a thicket of spiral bound notebooks stacked on top of one another. Some of the covers were dilapidated while others were still fresh, testifying to how long Kurt had been collecting music journals. He dropped them in Lindy's lap, allowing for her to peel back the cover of a distinctly disheveled green Mead notebook. As she let the pages flip by, she saw a blur of writing and doodles.

"Holy shit, Kurt," Lindy said under her breath as Kurt dug up another bundle of notebooks. There had to be countless numbers of them, and that did not even begin to cover the amount of songs Kurt had probably scrawled within their pages.

"I know," Kurt said, as if his obsessive writing was nothing out of the ordinary. "We could make it work. I bet Dave and Krist will be all for a softer sounding album."

"You seem really optimistic about it," Lindy remarked, closing one of the books in her lap.

"Should I not be?"

"No, it's not that. I just thought you were scared to get thrown back into the recording studio."

"Not if it's with this stuff," Kurt countered, pulling some of the notebooks back into his hands. "I've been waiting years to do it. I would have done it by myself but I never felt ready. Now that Nirvana is back . . ."

Kurt didn't have to explain. Being a solo artist had definitely appealed to him at variety of points in his life, but he'd always privately relish in having his bandmates and friends to create music with. It lessened the blow of worrying about success. With Dave and Krist, Kurt had someone to go in it together with.

"I think it's great," Lindy told him, touching his face with a brief stroke of her hand. "I can tell you're excited about it. And that's all that has ever counted."

Kurt smiled, pleased with her approval. It was a smile of true contentment, leaving Lindy with an influx of relief in her system. His optimism for what was to come was restored.

"And then there's the other thing," Kurt said. He slid both of his hands around Lindy's face, cradling it lovingly. He was careful to avoid missing any of her features as his eyes roamed, recommitting all that he loved about Lindy to mind.

"Okay," Lindy said, laughing nervously although she felt nowhere near nervous with Kurt's hands touching her so gently. He kissed her mouth, silencing her stuttering giggle. Her shoulders sank with the silent sigh of happiness that she felt coursing through her chest.

When Kurt pulled back, Lindy almost guided his lips right back to hers. They were alone and in the dark, and even though the couch was very small, she wouldn't have minded exploring his kiss a little deeper. This time it was his turn to laugh.

He cupped his hands back in place around her face, pulling her close so he could whisper his truths to her like a secret. He became serious, all the laughter that just exuded out of him fading.

"When I did that show Lindy, I wanted to die. Or at least, a part of me did. I remember thinking I wasn't going to be able to go out on the stage, that's how fucked up I was."

Lindy's face fell flat as Kurt confessed this. She was not upset by his admittance, only surprised. When she looked back in memory on the Unplugged session, Kurt had seemed so normal and very much delighted to see her.

As if reading her thoughts, Kurt carried on, finishing his story before Lindy's mind could veer off track.

"But I saw you in the audience and knowing you had shown up did something to me. I realized I had nothing greater in my life other than you and Frances, and for you to have come all that way to see me play . . ."

"I'd do it a thousand times over," Lindy murmured, leaning in close once more until their foreheads touched. Her mouth grazed his, yearning to taste the kiss that had ended far too swiftly. Kurt obliged, kissing Lindy lightly, though he wasn't done with his miniature speech.

"I know I've said it to you in the past, Linds. I know I repeat myself like a god damn broken record. But I'm so thankful for you. You saved my life."

Lindy, caught off guard by Kurt's sudden sentiment, bit the plump inside of her lower lip and looked down. She still thought about that day a lot -- the day Kurt had almost taken his life. It didn't immobilize her with sorrow as it once had, but it was still a reminder of how close she'd come to losing the first and only person she'd ever been in love with.

"I didn't do that, Kurt. You saved yourself. You made the choice from that day forward."

"But I couldn't have done it without you. You know, I was really careful not to think about you when I went to the greenhouse. I knew that as soon as your face would pop into my head, I'd be at risk of changing my mind. So I thought only about Frances, and how she was young enough that she wouldn't be able to change my mind with any sort of words. She didn't have a grasp or say so in just how better her life would have been without me. She was too small to know . . ."

"And it wouldn't have been better," Lindy asserted. "You would have left her with a big hole in her heart. And Charlie, too. I know that all of us love our lives the way we do because you're apart of them."

"Yes, and I get that now. I get that because of what I've seen. Like how every time we sit down for a family dinner and then Frances makes a joke about Charlie's hair, or Charlie tells you your cooking is amazing even when it isn't."

Lindy glowered, but Kurt only laughed, placing his finger on her puckered lips and feeling how soft she felt beneath his touch.

"And I understand it all over again when you make funny faces, like right now. And when you roll over in bed at night and lay right up against me. And when you get home from the hospital and your first priority is saying hello to me, even when I'm being a moody shit, all alone in my music room."

"Look what you would have been missing out on," Lindy said, though she felt her face grow hot. Everything that Kurt had said were things she did not notice that she even did.

"I would have missed out on so much," Kurt whispered in agreement. "Enough to have made me follow you around in spirit every day if I were dead, being selfish and wishing for the day when you could be with me again to come faster."

"You're here now, though."

Lindy brushed her hand against the light trace of a beard growing from Kurt's chin. She was ready to abandon the subject of Kurt being dead; it made her uneasy.

"You're right. Because of you. And that's why I wake up every morning and thank whatever higher power that exists for putting you in my life. I'm so grateful that you loved me back."

"I loved you right away," Lindy assured him. "After Trae tried out for drums in front of you and Krist, I had no idea how I was going to tell him that I had a giant crush on you. I tried to hide it."

"I didn't," Kurt said, cracking a smile. "I pestered Krist about you knowing that he would eventually tell Trae about it. From there, I only hoped Trae liked me enough to then tell you."

"I love hearing that story. Even when it's been repeated a thousand times," Lindy expressed, trying to guess what her eighteen-year-old self would have thought if she could see where she was now.

Not even then, when she'd been so hopeful for her future, could Lindy have imagined such a perfect life. And it was not perfect for materialistic reasons. It was because somehow, fate had taken just the right turn and given her Kurt, Charlie and Frances. And even then still, there was Trae, Allie, Hannah, Beth . . . all of the people she loved still present in her life.

Kurt leaned his head into the crook of Lindy's neck and shoulder, not even bothering with trying to guess what he'd be like without her. He wouldn't have existed right then if it weren't for her. His life would have been put to waste back in nineteen-ninety-four if it hadn't been for Lindy Clayton and her furious determination to keep him alive.

He did not know when he first met her that she would change him for the better, but he was glad he'd let it happen. Resisting Lindy would have been incapable. It still was.

Lindy was meant to be with him. He'd almost lost sight of that in the past, between marrying Courtney and the day he'd walked into the greenhouse, but he'd eventually understood.

"I love you Lindy," he said quietly, taking her hand in his and watching the moon's pale light dance off of her wedding ring and the K charm bracelet she still refused to take off.

"I love you too, Kurt."