{Kurt}

When they pulled into the parking lot above Annette Lake, the sky above the ice-bound surface was pale yellow, speaking wordlessly of the sunrise happening behind the towering mountain range. There was enough light to pick their way down to the beach from the parking area. Kurt snugged his backpack on his shoulders, following Jon's quick-moving feet as his partner found the trailhead. Jon was silent, his face lifted and intent, like he was searching for something as he forged up the path lined with evergreens.

Even in the frigid winter temperature, the smell of pine was in the air. At this low elevation, there was little snow on the ground; Kurt's boots scuffed a soft layer of pine needles, and he lengthened his stride to keep up with Jon through a series of switchbacks climbing alongside the lake. Occasionally through the trees he caught glimpses of the grey-green icy surface cradled between the stony arms of the mountains, sky brightening with the onset of day.

Finally they broke out into a steep, open incline, with tough scrubby bushes clinging to the rocky ground. The entire view of the lake and the surrounding mountains spread underneath them, brightening in the growing light. Jon stopped, feet wide, hands open at his sides, palms turned as if receiving the breaking day over the mountains. Beams of the rising sun glowed like fire across the top of the western mountain range, and Kurt had to squint to look, eyes watering in the light.

"Oh thank God." Jon's voice was rough and strange; he dropped back a step, and when he turned to Kurt his face was crumpled, tears dropping onto his cheeks. Without saying another word, he scrambled up the side of the mountain, off the path.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kurt followed.

There was a bare outcropping of granite and a tumble of boulders a short distance away; Kurt glimpsed the red of Jon's puffy coat at the top. Balancing, he leapt from boulder to boulder until he could pull himself onto the top of the shoulder of granite, flat and smooth as a stone tabletop. Jon was sitting with his knees drawn up, facing the bar of sun travelling down the mountainside across the lake. As Kurt straightened up, panting a little, his partner laid a hand on the bare stone beside him.

Kurt slung the backpack off his back and sauntered to the edge, glancing down. They were well out of earshot of the trail, threading below them, and pretty much out of eyeshot as well. He plopped down beside Jon, letting his legs swing over the ledge.

A soft, keening sound came out of Jon's body as tears shook him. He tipped onto his back and put his hands over his streaming face. "Shit. I forgot tissues again." His voice was strangled.

Kurt fished in his pocket, leaning back on his elbow to tuck a pair of Kleenexes into Jon's hand. "Kurt Visser survival tip," he said. "Always have a bunch of tissues."

Jon laughed and then his body arced and all the tears dammed up and held back poured out at once under the cold, day-bright sky.

Kurt unpacked his backpack, setting the tin of cookies and the thermos of coffee on the stone tabletop. He brushed tears off his own cheeks and poured himself a steaming cup. Linking his arm around Jon's bent leg, he stayed quiet and close, sipping and narrowing his eyes in the light of the rising sun while Jon cried.

Finally Jon was blowing his nose and hauling himself upright. He dropped his head between Kurt's shoulder blades, sniffing and catching his breath.

"My head hurts," he said. "I hate crying."

Kurt thought it would probably hurt less if Jon did it more often. But he guessed his partner would if he could. He poured a fresh cup into the lid of the thermos and fished out a pepper cookie, holding them up for Jon to see.

Jon's face appeared beside his arm, his freckled skin splotchy and raw, but his hazel eyes bright. "Where did this coffee come from, Visser? Are the Danish some kind of wizard outdoors' men as well as Vikings?"

Kurt chuckled, helping himself to a cookie and sipping gingerly from the thermos. "Filled up at our last stop. Nothing like a coffee break miles from anyone."

Jon slung his legs over the ledge beside him, slouching into Kurt's body as he slupped the entire cup back in one go and held it out for seconds. "Have I mentioned that I love you?" His eyes glanced into Kurt's face, narrowed in a smile.

"It's been a few hours at least." Kurt passed the refilled cup back into Jon's hands, leaning in to touch his lips to Jon's temple and hug his arm around his shoulders. "The feeling is very mutual."

They were quiet a few minutes, Kurt swinging his legs as he ate cookie after cookie. High above the lake, a hawk hung suspended motionless, as if by a thread.

"Do you think Judah is, like, in heaven somewhere and checks in on you?" Kurt asked.

Jon snorted, reaching around him for another cookie. "No."

Kurt looked at him, incredulous. "You don't believe in heaven?"

Jon's forehead wrinkled. "I don't believe it's like how we were taught, with people looking down on us from the clouds. They're in God's presence. They have better things to do."

"Hm." Kurt propped a knee up and wrapped his arm around it. "I was just thinking maybe you could talk to Judah sometimes. Tell him...you're sorry you didn't hug him that last time."

"That's not really how my beliefs about heaven work," Jon said drily.

Kurt played a hopeful little melody on his knee, sure there was a way around this. "You talk to God, don't you?"

"Yeah?"

"And Judah is with God. You could just ask him to pass on the message. And then you don't have to worry anymore that he's sad about that."

Jon laughed softly, leaning his shoulder into Kurt's. "I love that you thought of that." He was quiet a moment, squinting in the plain morning light. "He's not sad where he is now. He's not hurting or sick. That's all over for him--it's just the good and beautiful things where he is now."

Jon bent his head, turning the coffee cup between his hands. "It's just the rest of us. Who have to keep living with the mix."

Kurt's lips curled up in a smile. "He's not sick or sad. I like thinking about that."

"Yeah, me too," Jon said softly. Kurt watched a tear splotch appear on the knee of Jon's pants. Jon brushed his hand over his eyes quick. "Want to get going?"

Kurt put his hand on his partner's knee, holding him where he was. "There's nowhere to be. You finally got your tears back, love; take the time to be with them. Maybe then they'll stick around."

Jon was rigid next to him, and then he slowly exhaled, relaxing again. He drew his knees up and hugged them, setting his chin on top while tears slipped over his cheeks. "I hate not knowing when I'm going to cry," he said grumpily. "I don't know why feelings need to be such a big thing."

Kurt's laugh rang in the air. "You better take that up with your Maker, because feelings are a big thing. Or at least they need a little more space than you've been giving them." He pushed his hand through Jon's hair, rubbing the top of his neck. "Maybe if you loosen up on your feelings a little they won't catch you so off guard," he said gently. "No one's going to think you're gay at your work just because you have emotions. That doesn't have to be part of your deal, right?"

Jon flicked him a glare. "Easy for you to say. You're good at crying. You're so, like, relaxed about it."

Kurt sighed, clasping Jon's neck. "Not easy for me to say, love. Not at first. No one had the time of day for little me having big feelings."

Jon leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his back. "Well I respect the hell out of your big feelings, Visser, and I'll take on anyone who says otherwise. Just point me at 'em."

Kurt chuckled. "You're a little feisty when you're up in your feelings, White."

Jon laughed shortly, rubbing his face against Kurt's scarf. "Defense mechanism, probably," he said. "No one had the time of day for my big feelings either."

Kurt paused, looking at his bent head. "Your parents didn't?"

Jon shook his head once against him. "Dad wasn't...soft like he is now. When I was growin' up." His voice fell so quietly it seemed to sink into the stone beneath them. Kurt blinked, absorbing this. It was not hard for him to imagine being intimidated or frightened by Pete White, but he had never caught a whiff of that in Jon's relationship with his dad now.

"He never meant to be mean," Jon said low, "He just had to take care of Mom. And keep a roof over our heads." He took an unsteady breath and Kurt felt his hands tightening on his coat. "She wasn't...super stable for a bunch of years. Just so sad. I couldn't be sad too. What if she--tried again?"

Kurt made a soft noise, cupping the back of Jon's head.

"I can't...I can't imagine living without her, you know?" Jon said in a small voice. "Even if she's fragile sometimes. So I helped Dad take care of her. So she could take care of all of us." His breath hitched softly and he pushed his face into Kurt's chest, his exhale hot through the buttons of his coat. "I thought I was done cryin' for today."

Kurt hugged him close. "Aw love. It's a feelings day for you. That's okay." Holding Jon, he rested his eyes on the mosaic of colours and patterns in the landscape, until the jag of crying passed and Jon's breathing smoothed again.

Kurt passed him yet another tissue and Jon laughed unsteadily as he dried his face and blew his nose. "Crying makes me hungry." Getting up, Jon stretched, opening and closing his fingers against the windblown blue of the sky, then reached down to tug Kurt to his feet, nose and eyes pink but face alight with a smile. "Ready to find that restaurant?"

"I ate too many cookies for breakfast," Kurt said ruefully, and followed him over the tumble of rocks back to the path.

*Happy Easter, lovelies. New life is dawning; in my little corner of the planet the days are getting longer and warmer. Hope springs anew!*

1747 words.