one-hundred-eight.

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        WHEN LINDY FINALLY returned back to her apartment, she couldn't shake the feeling of being in another one of her vibrantly surreal dreams.

Even in her home, the place where she had lived for years now, she felt like she was on a rollercoaster ride that wouldn't let her off. And it wasn't the kind of ride that was fun; it was too dizzying for her and she was ready to be done with it. If another chapter in her life was about to open, it needed to open soon before she collapsed under the pressure of where she currently stood.

The first thing that Lindy did was vomit. She didn't even have time to greet a mewling Freddie, for she charged into her bathroom and threw up the mostly empty contents of her stomach. When she was done, she sat back and wiped her mouth. It would have been easy to blame the sickness on the baby, but she knew the real truth behind her nausea.

She got up and called Trae, waking him from a dead sleep so that she could inform him on what was happening. He was aghast of course, and once again argued that he should drive to Seattle, but Lindy told him not to come. Not yet, at least. She had only called so that her brother would hear the news of Kurt being found from her rather than the television. From then on, she promised to be honest with him always.

Lindy almost called Jack so she could ask questions about the rehab center that she was now shipping Kurt off to, but it was late and she didn't feel ready to reveal the intensely personal matter to Jack quite yet. It would take some time for her to open up, but people had to be wondering what was going on with her.

Lindy got into her bed, readying herself for sleep although it never came to her. All she could do was stare at the ceiling as she thought over and over again what it had looked like, seeing Kurt reach for a gun with the intent to take his own life.

She didn't know what was more important for her to focus on — the conclusion that he had not done it in the end, or the fact that he had even come close to carrying the act out in the first place.

_________

As she had promised Kurt, Lindy left her apartment early the next morning so that she could once again be with him. The sun had not even risen when she got out of bed, heading straight for her closet of clothes. She hadn't slept anyway, so it made no difference to her.

A dewy fog hung in the air as Lindy pulled up to Kurt's house, making it hard to see through her windshield. She was careful not to look in the direction of the greenhouse. Even catching a glimpse of it would have made her sick all over again. She started to wonder if it had been cleared of Kurt's things, but she stopped herself. It would do her well to push those thoughts aside.

Lindy was taken aback when she noticed a black SUV sitting idle across from the front door. A driver was lounging against the car, patiently waiting for his assignment in the early morning gloom. Frowning, Lindy approached the house while keeping a weary eye on the man. He nodded politely in her direction, but this gave no hint as to why he was there. Maybe it was a possible car for Courtney, who most likely had no plans to stick around the house for much longer.

Lindy knocked on the front door and was welcomed in by Rosemary, who appeared as tired as Lindy felt. She wore bags under her eyes and her hair had not brushed — Lindy put a bet on Rosemary having been at the Lake Washington house all night sorting out not only Kurt's affairs, but the media storm that awaited an update on his missing person status.

"Is he up?" Lindy asked quietly, walking into the cold house and rubbing her hands together.

"He's waiting for you out back with Frances. They're playing on her jungle-gym."

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now