OCTOBER, 1989, SEATTLE, WA

                   "A TOUR? AGAIN?" Lindy asked in disbelief. She was sitting on the couch, Kurt standing in front of her with his hands in his jean pockets.

"Yeah. A European tour," he confirmed quietly.

"You just got back," Lindy said faintly. "I just got you back and you're leaving me again."

For Lindy, she had not spent nearly enough time with Kurt since his return home in August. Because of her advancements in her nursing studies, she was now partaking in her clinicals, meaning that she had to go to UW's medical center every day in order to learn hands-on how the job worked. This had left little time for her to spend with Kurt.

"I've been home for awhile, Linds," Kurt said defensively. "I mean, what did you expect? For us to just give up touring all together? You knew this was coming."

Hurt by Kurt's brittle outlook on the situation, Lindy stood, balling her fists. He did not seem to own up to the fact that when she was available to him, he chose to practice with Nirvana instead of seeing her. She had started to count the number of times that he'd run out the door, telling her that he was going to Krist's for practice when she had been sitting right there at his disposal. 

"Well I'm sorry if I'm being too sensitive for you. It's just that I'd like to see my boyfriend for more than two minutes every day. And now you're leaving. For a whole different continent."

"I'll be back before Christmas," Kurt said bitterly. "Do you think I really want to put up with Sub Pop's shit right now, Lindy? Because I fucking don't."

Kurt's distaste for his label had only grown stronger after their United States tour. He was vying to start recording another record, but it was obvious that Sub Pop had put Nirvana on hold, deeming them suitable for tours but not for another album.

"Then get a new label," Lindy quipped, irritatedly crossing her arms. His argument wasn't holding with her. It didn't make up for the lost time between them that he had deliberately let go of. 

Kurt laughed sarcastically, his eyes bugging out at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. 

"Are you fucking kidding me? 'Get a new label?' What do you think this is, Lindy, a game? You can't just get a new label."

"Whatever, Kurt," Lindy muttered, pushing past him and marching towards their bedroom. She was usually not so coarse with him, but her heart was hurting. Being without him killed her. Falling asleep every night in an empty bed had been some of the worst weeks of her life and she could not believe it was about to happen all over again. She was well aware that it was what she and Kurt had both signed up for, but she had not expected it to be so difficult to deal with.

Maybe it would have been easier to accept if they had actually spent more time together while he'd been home. A small part of her, the nagging voice in her head, reminded her that she too had a busy schedule and Kurt was not the only one to blame.

Lindy was simply too angry to acknowledge that voice, though.

Kurt was at her heels as she fled, following her into the bedroom. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Work," Lindy snapped, ripping open her dresser drawer and pulling out her work clothes. Kurt threw his hands up.

"There you go. Always blaming me when look, you're never even fucking home to enjoy my company."

"Don't go there with me, Kurt. Who do you think has to go to work to pay the rent and bills here? You've been living scotch-free for over a year now," Lindy warned, her body boiling with anger.

"If it's such a problem, then kick me out," Kurt retorted coldly. "If I'm such a burden to you, then I'm more than happy to leave. I'll do it right now." 

"Then go!" Lindy shouted. She whirled around, throwing the clothing that she gripped in her hands down on the bed. "Fucking leave! If you can't not be an asshole and see my side of things for just five seconds, you might as well just get the hell out!"

Lindy didn't have to say anymore. Kurt acted right away, pacing to the opposite side of the room where he began collecting his belongings in a pile. Lindy felt a rush of fear while watching him, not confident that she really wanted him to leave, but she pushed her doubt down. She pulled off her pajamas and started to change, not looking at Kurt.

Somewhere in her memory, she recalled Kurt telling her the story of one of the many arguments he'd had with his mom in his youth. She had told him that she couldn't put up with him anymore. It had all become too much. In the heat of their argument, she'd told him to 'get the hell out.'

Get the hell out. 

Those four words echoed in her head and she could not believe that she'd said them. She could not believe that she'd been tactless enough to forget where Kurt had heard them before and how much they had hurt then -- how much they hurt now. 

She kept changing, telling herself it was fine. She could be forgiven for her blunder. It was an accident. 

He disappeared out of the room and came back with a garbage bag. He knelt down, stuffing his things loudly into the bag before pulling the strings tightly into a knot. Lindy yanked her shirt over her head, feeling her heart start to beat faster in her chest. He was going to leave. He really was going to do it.

"Where are you going to go?" Lindy asked, attempting to keep her voice level, unsure that she wanted to keep pursuing the pointless argument with him. 

"Anywhere but here," Kurt countered, whipping his bag of things over his shoulder and walking out of the room. Lindy followed behind him. Now she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. The voice in her head was hissing at her, scolding her for what she had done. The fluid noise of her blood rushing blocked everything out and suddenly, she felt light-headed. 

"So that's it? You're going to walk out on me?" she challenged, though all traces of anger in her voice had vanished. She was putting up a weak fight. She had told him to get the hell out. It was her fault.

Her fault. 

"Yep," Kurt said bluntly. He threw open the door and without even another glance over his shoulder, walked out and slammed it shut, rattling the pictures on the wall.

Lindy stood still in the living room. The only sound was the ceiling fan, whirring in place. She began to tremble, wondering what on earth she had done.

She'd lost him.

She raised a hand to her mouth, a weak attempt to stifle the sobs rising in her chest. Every word that she had said within the last ten minutes was eating away at her, a painful reminder of how stupid she had been in her moment of desperation to make him stay. 

Lindy let out a cry, burying her face in her hands and openly weeping into them as she imagined Kurt never stepping foot into their apartment again.

She was so busy crying that she did not hear the door reopen, a slow creaking noise as it parted and allowed faint light from the rainy day to spill in.

Her face was still hidden even as he walked forward, dropping his bag of things and reaching out for her. He took her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, sounding just as heartbroken as he felt. "I didn't mean to say all of those things. I'd never leave you, Lindy. I'm sorry."

Internally, Lindy already knew that she was accepting of his apology. It didn't take much for Kurt to earn her forgiveness because she loved him so hugely that he could truly do no wrong. The only thing that made her continue to choke on her sobs was the image in her head of the empty apartment once again welcoming her home, no Kurt in sight.

"I love you Lindy, please don't cry," Kurt pleaded, pressing his cheek to the top of her head and swaying her in his embrace.

Lindy hugged him back, a physical indication that she had indeed agreed to patch things up with him. She began to apologize incessantly, clutching at his shirt as he shushed her, assuring her that all was forgiven.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped through her tears. "I didn't mean it. Don't leave me. Don't go. Stay, please." 

But she couldn't find the will to speak anymore. Her throat locked with whimpers and her mind continuously flashed to that damned picture of an empty home in which Kurt did not inhabit.

Even though they had made up, one thing had remained unchanged, forever weighing on Lindy's heart and sickening her to her core.

She was going to be coming home to an empty apartment again no matter what.

_________

The phone call came about a month in to Nirvana's European tour. Lindy had just arrived home, still donning her student scrubs with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that was slipping from its hair tie. The phone happened to be ringing when she walked in.

"Hello?" she said, cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she busied her hands in the pantry, looking for a late night dinner.

"Lindy? It's Krist."

"Krist!" Lindy exclaimed, unexpectedly surprised to hear his voice on the line. She had fully been prepared to hear Kurt's unmistakable husky greeting of hello.

"Hi. Sorry to call out of the blue. I just have to talk to you."

Lindy's hands instantly became slick with a nervous sweat. She could think of several reasons as to why Krist would have needed to call her and talk and none of them were good. Almost all of them involved Kurt being in pain or near some sort of impending death. Or worst, even though she highly doubted it, he had cheated on her . . .

"It's okay. What's up?"

"It's Kurt. I think he's lost his damn mind."

Lindy let out a small laugh, but stopped herself, noting the severity with which Krist spoke.

"Lost his mind? What do you mean?"

"I mean," Krist began, "he hopped on a 30-foot stack of speakers last night during the show and told the audience he was going to kill himself."

Lindy cringed at this, but did not think too deeply into Krist's claim. It was very much like Kurt to act strangely, even in the event of doing something dangerous and scary or announcing to a crowd of people that he was going to take his life in front of them.

But even that seemed as if he'd finally gone too far. 

"Are you sure he wasn't just . . . I don't know, being Kurt?" she asked hopefully, though her voice trembled. 

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. He threw a fit backstage and broke a perfectly good microphone. And he keeps saying he's going to make us leave Sub Pop. I seriously think he's going to fire the label."

Lindy chewed her lip, debating on how to approach the situation without taking Kurt's side off the bat and offending Krist. As much as she wanted to empathize with him, she had to admit, his behavior was more than bothersome to her. 

"Is it his stomach again?" Lindy finally guessed.

"Maybe. I think it's more than that. I just think he's finished doing this tour under Sub Pop's terms. It's driving him crazy. I thought you might want to know, in case he sounds different. I know he worries that you'll panic over him."

Lindy rubbed her forehead. "I don't know what to do, Krist. We had a pretty bad fight before he left. I think I'm making things worse for him."

"Probably not," Krist said, but this meant nothing to Lindy. He couldn't get into Kurt's head. No one could.

"He's worked too hard for the last two years. I think it's catching up to him," Krist explained. "It's exhausting him. But I wanted you to at least know."

"Thanks for telling me," Lindy said hollowly. She hung up with Krist, but stayed rooted to her spot in the kitchen.

All she could think about was the possibility that Kurt was going to return to her as an entirely different person.