Hello, everyone. I would like to apologise for the excessive time it has taken me to write this - it was just...difficult for me to say goodbye to my boys. (And unfortunately, Tumblr takes up much more of my time than it should) This is the final chapter. Thank you so, so, so, so x 100000000000 much to absolutely everyone. There are no words that even begin to express my immense gratitude. I also apologise for the lengthiness of this chapter. Once again, this was difficult to write, and even now, I am dissatisfied with the result. Nonetheless hank you all again. So, for the final time, enjoy!

Sarah

(I don't own Glee and make no profit blablabla)

"Kurt...are you crying?"

Carole had offered Blaine an air mattress on Kurt's bedroom floor for the night when it became apparent that Blaine had no chance of getting to his father's house, let alone getting back to Dalton. The two boys had sat with Kurt's parents in the living room until Kurt stood and announced that they were going to watch a movie in his room and trailed Blaine out by the hand. Naturally, Burt insisted on the door remaining open and had burst into Kurt's bedroom four times within the space of fifteen minutes armed with excuses such as "Hey, do you guys want some popcorn?" and "Son, do you know where my meds are?" until he appeared satisfied that the two boys were doing nothing more than sitting on the bed and watching P.S. I Love You. (Or perhaps until Carole delivered a prompt slap to the back of his head and told him to sit the heck down.)

By the end of the movie, they were both lying on their stomachs at the end of the bed. Kurt maintained the direction of his gaze steadfastly on the television and Blaine watched his profile, stealing the moment to appreciate Kurt's exquisiteness, as his striking cyan eyes swam with tears, a couple of which had spilled down his pale cheeks. His pink lips were pouting and Blaine defied the vast urge to steal a kiss, opting for covering Kurt's hand with his and crooning, "Kurt, you are so darling, you really are. I could sympathize with your lament when the guy died but why are you crying now? I was given the impression that that was something of a happy ending..."

Kurt wiped his eyes, "Oh, whatever, Mr I don't cry at movies, not even whenever Leo dies in Romeo and Juliet or Bambi's mommy gets shot."

"Oh, come on, Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed with a chortle. "Bambi? I would be more liable to weep at the hunter's ghastly ensemble."

Kurt sniffed but laughed and placed his hand on Blaine's head, saying with pride, "I am thrilled to see that your fashion sense is ripening so marvelously, precious. And I assure you that I take all the glory for that."

Blaine smiled, not even going to the effort of offering a witty retort, and rolled over on his side so that he was facing Kurt and propping his head up on his elbow. Kurt slid closer to Blaine and placed his hand in Blaine's hair, stroking gently as he asked, "What about when we go back to school?"

"Hmm?"

He looked into Blaine's eyes and persisted, "You know what I mean."

"I'll try, Kurt, I will. You have my word."

Kurt bit his lip at the earnest look in Blaine's eyes before sliding on top of him and briefly whispering his thankfulness against his mouth and kissing him fervently. He exulted in the certainty with which Blaine's hands found his hips and slipped his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Kurt slid his knee between Blaine's legs, grinning at the moan that exuded from Blaine's lips, and placed his hand on his thigh.

"Kurt," Blaine mumbled when he regained the capacity for diction. "Your parents are downstairs and the door is open and - I'm not going to lie - if your hand slides any higher, I think I'll scream."

Kurt pulled back to look at Blaine. He was all flushed cheeks and wild hair and hazy eyes and swollen lips. Kurt chastely kissed him once more and said, "Blaine, you are so gorgeous, I swear to god... Is my compelling sexiness getting you too excited?"

"Yes," he replied plainly, sitting up and attempting to tame his curls. "Would it be alright if I went and got a drink or something?"

"Only if you get me - "

"A diet Coke," Blaine concluded Kurt's sentence with a smile. "I know. And by now I am well aware of the fact that whatever affection you harbour for me is hugely eclipsed by your undying love for diet Coke."

"Damn, you do know me."

As Blaine passed through the living room while returning from the kitchen, Burt lowered the volume on the television and asked that he sit with him for a moment.

"Is there something you'd like to speak about, Mr Hummel?" Blaine asked, slipping easily into his effortless poise.

"Kid, I've told ya', call me Burt, please." he insisted. "All that 'Mr Hummel' crap is too stuffy for my liking. And yeah, I did. Well, I wanted to ask you something. And I'd like for you to be honest with me."

"Certainly, Burt."

Burt was silent for a moment, considering his words in a brief instance of thoughtfulness. He was generally more of a 'do now, think later' sort of fellow. But this was an issue of concern for him, and he wanted to be certain of the situation before he acted on anything. He eventually asked, "Is my son happy at Dalton?"

"Pardon?" Blaine said, caught off guard.

"I'll level with you here, Blaine: I'm worried about him. He's fine when he's at home...but when I went to that Christmas concert you guys put on, he seemed kinda...off. Guarded, or something. My boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he always has done. So I figured, you know, he's at a new school and he's still adjusting. But earlier Finn came to me and said he was worried about how Kurt is at Dalton. He thinks that Kurt's being...stifled, I don't know."

Blaine took a deep breath and appraised Burt's anxious expression. "In all honesty...my feelings are in accordance with Finn's. The student body of Dalton Academy is a unit. Frankly put, excessive flaunting of individuality is discouraged. It's important to...blend in. And Kurt has been trying, I know he has. But if I'm honest, he...shines too brightly to repress - even if he wants to do so."

"He shouldn't have to repress himself."

"I agree."

Burt frowned before adding quietly, "Neither should you."

Blaine flickered before looking away.

Burt cleared his throat and adjusted his hat. "Finn's also been telling me that everyone at his old glee club really misses Kurt, and that they'd all work really hard to look out for him should he, uh, decide to return. Finn genuinely thinks that Kurt might be happier there, if everyone supports him. What do you think, Blaine?"

"I think that Kurt should do whatever will make him happy."

Burt nodded and smiled, putting an arm on Blaine's shoulder briefly. "Why don't you go back upstairs, Blaine? It's getting pretty late. You guys will probably want to hit the sack soon, huh? Thanks for, uh, chatting with me."

Blaine never made it to the floor that night. He and Kurt remained in Kurt's bed, wrapped up in each other, hiding from the world underneath the covers.

"Blaine, cut it out, oh my god. I can't breathe..." Kurt whispered in an effort to remain unheard by the other inhabitants of his house.

"I thought you liked my Gollum voice."

"Not at one in the morning when everyone is asleep and I don't want my father to wake up and burst in here - shotgun a-blazing - to find you in my bed. I don't know which one of us would be deader but we would both be pretty dead."

Blaine sat up in the darkness and began to slide away from Kurt, "I'll just head for the air mattress, in that case."

"Don't you dare," Kurt hissed, reaching out and grabbing Blaine's arm, trailing back underneath the covers.

"Kurt, this is bad," he whispered, nonetheless trailing his lips along the length of Kurt's jaw. "This is very, very bad."

"This is for the sake of your safety, Blaine," he claimed, tangling his legs with Blaine's. "The floor is awfully cold."

"You make a valid point..."

"And there are spiders down there. They'll nest in your mane."

Blaine snorted, covering his mouth abruptly. He pressed his forehead to Kurt's, drawing him closer and breathing, "You are the best thing to ever happen to me."

Kurt's eyes opened and he brushed his lips against Blaine's, "Jeez, you're telling me."

"Blaine, you just aren't focused today! What is the matter with you?"

Everyone stopped, out of breath from the exertion of rehearsing the same number five times. Kurt's gaze landed across the stage on Blaine and he noted how his jaw clenched as he ran his hand through his hair, which was been beginning to curl under the heat of the spotlights. Wes was sitting in an audience seat in an attempt to get a sense of how the performance looked from a distance and had called the number to a halt four times, each time citing Blaine as the cause for his complaints.

"Gee, Wes, I don't know. Maybe I'm a little tired from running through this thing over and over when I know it," Blaine called. Everyone present detected the underlying tinge of viciousness behind his speech.

Wes frowned for a second before smirking slightly and asking, "If you know it so well, why aren't you able to do it right? You are not concentrating. Stop thinking about whatever it is that you are thinking about and get your head in the game! Do you want us to lose?"

"Yeah, Wes. I want us to lose. That is why I am busting my ass off up here."

There was a hiss from one of the Warblers and several uncomfortable coughs.

"Um, there's no need for sarcasm, Blaine. I am only trying to help."

"There's not need for inane questions, Wes," Blaine snapped, not making any effort to mask the resentment now. He suddenly froze, collecting himself and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just...frustrated."

"I understand, Blaine," Wes told him with a sympathetic smile. "We all are. I'll tell you what, everyone, let's take a little break for ten minutes and then we'll come back and run through this again. Blaine, come down here for a little sec."

Some of the Warblers dispersed, heading for air and water and restrooms, others flopped down on the floor and conversed together, and Kurt sat on the edge of the stage, legs dangling over the edge, waiting for Blaine, who was speaking with Wes. Despite their outward conveyance of total harmony and congruence, all was not concordant within The Warblers. There were cracks in the very foundations of the group and various battles for power within the group, particularly in the case of Blaine and Wes. They were quite good friends and generally got along quite smoothly, however in the professional environment of the Warbler meetings, the pair struggled. Wes grappled with the fact that Blaine had become the lead Warbler when he wasn't even on the council. He loathed that Blaine didn't even have to try - that he was the charismatic, charming, phenomenal showman whom everyone adored.

Blaine turned from Wes, smiling politely, but caught Kurt's gaze and cast his eyes heavenwards. When he was done with Wes, he strolled over and placed his hands on either side of Kurt's thighs, lifting himself up momentarily to kiss Kurt firmly on the lips before returning to the floor and taking Kurt's hands, helping him down from the stage. They left the auditorium together to find Alexander outside, leaning against the wall, listening to his iPod.

"Hey, creeper," Blaine greeted, still holding Kurt's hand. "Looks like practice is going to run on a bit today. You'll be forced to live with my absence for another little while."

"I'm sure I'll subsist. What's the problem? Wes trying to pull the pole from up his ass?"

Kurt snorted and shoved Alex, "No, it's just Blaine's lack of coordination. I should really be the lead Warbler. I have the sexiest moves. Of course, there would probably be a sex riot at regionals."

"Well, if I've gotta stick around, I think I'll come in and watch you guys warble and...fandango about the place."

Wes was displeased by the prospect of Alexander observing their rehearsal. Non-Warblers were usually not permitted to do so. But when Alex played the 'Your father works for my father' card, Wes backed down.

"Okay, now. Places, everyone!" Wes commanded. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking off my blazer," Blaine replied. "It's warm up here."

"Blaine. We perform in our blazers. You are well aware of that. You will counterbalance the entire aesthetic element of the performance."

"You do realise that there isn't actually an audience here now," Kurt indicated with a nuance of sarcasm. "Alexander aside, and I doubt that he cares. Besides, it's hotter than the hinges of hades up here and we all know Blaine sweats like a harlot in church."

Blaine chuckled and shot Kurt a grateful glance before stating that he would just keep the blazer on.

"Good. From the top."

There was a collective sigh as everyone retreated to their starting places and began to run through the number once more. As Blaine twirled by Kurt, he whispered a hushed, "Courage," in Blaine's ear. Blaine winked in response, which distracted Kurt and caused him to bump into Marcus. Blaine's voice cracked slightly as he laughed. After another fifteen seconds, Wes stood and stopped the performance again.

"Ugh! God, what is it now?"

The Warblers all stared at Blaine in astonishment. Alexander let out a low whistle of appreciation and endorsement.

"You're still too stiff, Blaine," Wes highlighted. "Perhaps you're having an off day."

"Please, Wes," Alex interjected. "My boy doesn't have off days. That was wonderful. And I hate OneRepublic."

"Hush, Hardy. Blaine, what is the problem? This isn't just an isolated event. You haven't been...yourself lately."

Everyone whipped their heads from Wes to Blaine, akin to the manner in which someone would watch a tennis game. Such explosions seldom occurred within The Warblers, let alone during a rehearsal of all times.

"Myself?" Blaine spat with a sneer. He sauntered to the apron of the stage and spoke directly to Wes. "To be frank, Wes, you honestly do not know the first thing about me. None of you do. Perhaps I've finally gained the courage to actually be myself. And besides, do you honestly think this number will win us regionals? At McKinley last week, the glee club and the football team put on a spectacular performance. And that was at half-time. I shudder to consider what they have prepared for the actual competition. I know that I am a remarkable showman, but I can't carry an entire performance, not against them. We need a better song that we all agree on and we need to perform together; all of us - it can't just be me with you guys in the background. We're supposed to be a club. A team."

"Blaine, with all due respect, we are The Warblers. We are not New Directions. We have a specific means of operation. Who are you to challenge decades of tradition?"

"I am not prepared to be the council's marionette any longer."

Wes' dark eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he considered this and asked, "What exactly are you saying, Blaine?"

Blaine stared up at the spotlight for a moment. He glanced fleetingly at Alexander, and turned briefly to glimpse Kurt looking at him intently before proffering Blaine a reassuring smile and supplementary nod. Blaine returned his gaze to Wes and inhaled deeply as he weightily removed his blazer and slung it over his shoulder, suspending it on his finger with a glimmer of arrogance and general fabulousness that caused Kurt to swell with pride at the display.

"I am saying," Blaine began, running a hand through his hair. "That I quit."

The revelation drew a communal gasp from The Warblers, a slightly dazed grin from Kurt, and a complimentary applause with additional standing ovation from Alex. As Blaine swaggered his way to the steps at the end of the stage, Wes called, "Blaine, man...I'm serious. If you leave now...you can't come back. This is it."

"Precisely. Give my solo to Kurt. He's a far superior dancer, in any case."

Kurt cleared his throat and spoke with a smile, "You can't give a solo to someone who is no longer on the team. Consider this my resignation from The Warblers. As much as it pains my poor Broadway heart to give up the opportunity to go to New York for nationals, I simply refuse to allow my mammoth talent to go to waste. What kind of glee club allocates a countertenor to the background? You people are crazier than denim-on-denim."

Blaine - who had paused at the edge of the stage - beamed at Kurt and held out his hand, which Kurt hopped across the stage to take. Together, the two boys stalked down the steps and out of the door, leaving The Warblers in various degrees of disbelief.

"So..." Alexander said finally, standing and looking around at everyone as he headed for the exit. "I think it's safe to say that it's going to be frosty in the common room tonight. Later, bitches."

Kurt and Blaine lay on Kurt's bed that evening. Kurt on Blaine's arm, playing with his hand. Alexander was in the common room, sharing a bastardized version of the tale of the first time anybody stormed out of a Warbler meeting. ("And then Blaine roundhouse punched Wes in the face, and Kurt sang Fuck Off and Die and it was immense.")

"You dad thinks you should go back to McKinley," Blaine murmured softly against Kurt's hair.

"What?"

"Finn's worried about you. Everyone misses you and wants you back."

"Oh..."

"Kurt, if I'm honest, I agree with them."

Kurt's fingers ceased their wandering over Blaine's hand and he stared at Blaine's neck in shock. "You want rid of me?"

"Of course I don't want rid of you," Blaine assured him softly, squeezing him. "I just think you'd be happier there, and that's what I want. Karofsky won't be a problem and everyone would take care of you if he attempted to do anything."

Kurt propped his head up on his hand to look at Blaine's face. "You can't be...Blaine...I...I can't live my life without seeing you everyday. I know how pathetic and Romeo and Juliet that sounds but I can't."

Blaine swallowed and gazed up at Kurt, weighing his words carefully before saying gently, "I was...considering - maybe - the, uh, the prospect of...you know...going with you."

The pair stared at one another for a silent moment, each assessing the other's expression.

"...What?" Kurt asked finally, thinking he had misheard.

"If you want."

"Are you serious?"

"Kurt, I love you. I love you in a way I didn't even think was possible. I want us to be in a place where we can hold hands and kiss in the hallways and where I can watch you sing in ridiculous costumes and be happy. I've broached the question with my parents and they seem to be okay with it - they know I'll get good grades in any school. And I know that you'll object because you think I'm doing this just for you, but I'm not. This as much for me as it is for you. This could be...my second chance...my redemption. I can prove to myself that I'm not weak anymore. That I don't have to flee anymore. Let me do this, please. My father's house is half an hour away from Lima; I could stay there. Please...say something...do you think this is a wholly ridiculous idea?"

Kurt kissed Blaine on the lips ardently. "I love you, too," he breathed as he pulled away. "God, Blaine...I love you so much. Come with me to McKinley. Let's go to McKinley and...get slushied together, and you can join the glee club and the football team...and...we'll be prom kings. Just come with me, Blaine. Come with me to McKinley."

At the beginning of the new semester, two boys stand together in the parking lot of William McKinley High School, staring at one another with slightly excited apprehension. The shorter one with the curly, dark hair is dressed in blue jeans and a chunky grey sweater. The taller, paler boy is dressed in a blue shirt, tight white pants and knee-high boots, and he opens one of the back doors of his car and pulls out two waterproof trenchcoats with a sly grin to his companion.

"Believe me," Kurt says, handing one to Blaine. "You don't want corn syrup on that wool. It's a killer to get out."

"I am indebted to you, my love," Blaine sighs, sliding the coat on and producing two pairs of sunglasses from his pant pocket and passing one over to Kurt before promising, "I will make certain that there will be thankful blowjob waiting for you when you come over later."

"Outstanding. Just what I like to hear," he says, reaching out a hand to smooth a particularly untameable sprig of Blaine's hair. "Courage, Blaine."

"Courage, Kurt."

The pair smile and stroll over to the door of the school. They turn to each other and nod, simultaneously slipping on their respective pairs of sunglasses in a blatant show of badassery.

"If we're getting slushied anyway..." Blaine says as an addendum, extending his hand to Kurt, who grinned and clutched in his.

"Ready to show the student body of McKinley how fierce and fabulous we are?" Kurt asks, taking a deep breath.

"Oh, you know I am, baby."