Hello. I do not own Glee, Klaine, Chris Colfer or Darren Criss, but if I did, I'd be the happiest person in the entire world.

Inspired by 'Those You've Known' from Spring Awakening, which is one of my favourite musicals of all time and I thought it was perfect for Kurt. I ship Klaine so hard it's ridiculous.

I hope you enjoy this fic! x

Those you've known and lost still walk behind you,
all alone, their song still seems to find you.

They call you as if you knew their longing -
They whistle through the lonely wind,
the long blue shadows falling.

Blaine smiled softly to himself as he walked slowly up the path towards the Hummel-Hudson house, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his head low to avoid the cold, harsh wind being blown directly into his eyes. He had been dating Kurt for a few months and so far, there had been no disasters or conflicts from either boy, or anybody else around them for that matter. It had been going perfectly. So Blaine planned on surprising the boy. They hadn't seen each other for a few days, due to Blaine's rather sudden amount of homework from his classes, but he didn't mind taking a few hours off. It was all worth it to see Kurt.

He reached the door and rung the bell, sighing and creating a small cloud of ghostly grey in front of his face from the cold weather. Burt answered, a serious expression on his face. Blaine had met Burt before, so wasn't scared of him usually, but there was something in his eyes at that moment that made his stomach clench.

"Hello, is Kurt here?"

"Uh, yeah," He paused. "Blaine, do you know what day it is?"

Blaine stared in disbelief. It can't be Kurt's birthday, can it? Shit. If it was Kurt's birthday and he'd forgotten, he wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself.

"I'm afraid I don't," Blaine said, panicked. "Is he angry at me?"

Burt shook his head, "No. He must not have told you."

"Told me what?"

Burt sighed, running a hand over his smooth, bald head, which was uncharacteristically missing its trademark baseball cap. "Just come on in."

Blaine's panic did not subside. It remained, burning in his chest like an uncontrollable flame. The tension in the house was almost unbearable. It was as if somebody had died...

And then something triggered in his mind. His eye caught a picture on the wall, of a younger, hairier Burt, a small, happy Kurt and a slim, beautiful woman. Kurt's mom. Her long, brown hair was an identical shade to her sons and her eyes had the same burning intensity that his possessed.

It couldn't be... could it?

Blaine slowly made his way down the stairs to Kurt's basement bedroom. The grey walls that usually reminded Blaine of nothing more than Kurt's sophistication and grace were now just reminding him of the darkness that seemed to be looming over the entire house. Then he saw Kurt, curled up beneath the covers of his bed and seemingly unaware of Blaine's presence.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice soft so not to startle his boyfriend.

The mound beneath the covers shifted and turned. Kurt's face was now visible from where Blaine stood and he could tell he had been crying. He was looking at him with tears stuck to his eyes. They were outlined red and his skin, usually pale anyway, had a ghostly quality as if he was just existing instead of living.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, his shaky voice small and timid. He sat up in the bed, revealing his outfit of old sweatpants and a plain, greying t-shirt, while his hair stood up on end. The boy didn't even care. He didn't even flinch at the idea of Blaine seeing him in this way.

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to go?" Blaine panicked.

"No. Come here."

The older teen, realising that Kurt was patting the space on the bed beside him, made his way over, sitting instantly. A small, sympathetic smile played on his lips as he looked at Kurt.

"I'm sorry." Blaine spoke, wrapping his arm protectively around his lovers shoulders and squeezing them ever so gently.

"It's okay," Kurt whimpered. "It's not your fault she died."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He ask, pressing his lips to Kurt's hair and breathing in it's smell.

"It was so long ago, and I didn't want you to worry about me. It's not like she died today," Kurt said sadly, twisting his body and leaning into the older teen's side. "It was years ago."

Blaine sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. "I get it. I get why you didn't tell me, but remember," He said, pulling away from Kurt and placing his rough, calloused hands either side of the fragile boy's face. "I care about you. If you ever needed me, I'd be there."

"I know you would be," Kurt smiled sadly, sniffing away tears. "I guess lying in bed crying over her has become somewhat a tradition."

Blaine breathed out heavily before pressing a kiss upon Kurt's pale forehead, lingering there for a second, enjoying the closeness and closing his eyes. Kurt, too, closed his eyes, clinging tightly onto Blaine's jacket. Eventually, it came the time to pull away from each other and their eyes met.

"Kurt," Blaine said, then paused, smoothing Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "Do you wanna talk about her?"

The countertenor sniffed, dropping his eyes from his and staring intently at his own hands, his knuckles white from gripping to Blaine's clothing so tightly.

"I don't know."

"It's okay if you don't want to," Blaine said. "It's just you never do and I wondered if you might want to."

Kurt loosened his grip, keeping his head low and increased the gap of empty space between their bodies. "I don't talk about her very often because it hurts too much."

"Hey," Blaine spoke, leaning down as to look into Kurt's eyes. "I'm not forcing you to. Whatever you want."

Kurt nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek with the back of his left hand. "I do want to."

"Then, I'm here to listen." The dapper teen smiled slightly, leaning back and watching Kurt intently.

He didn't speak for the first few seconds, taking breaths in an attempt to calm himself but it clearly wasn't working by the shaky sound each one made.

"She died really suddenly. It was a... a brain haemorrhage that came out of the blue," Kurt had his eyes firmly closed and his voice shook, despite how calm he tried to seem. "She died while I was at school. Dad was at work. He picked me up and I'd had a pretty awful day, as usual, and he told me in the car. He said she'd gone to join the angels."

Kurt paused, taking another shaky breath. Blaine reached for his hand and squeezed it, which Kurt then returned.

"She died alone. I never got to say goodbye, and it hurts."

Blaine nodded, leaning forward and stroking Kurt's cheek, taking away the tears that had fallen down the curve of his soft skin.

"She's still with you, Kurt."

"No she's not," He said, declaratively. "She's dead. I can't hear her voice whenever I want and I can't smell her hair, or even introduce her to you. She'll never meet you."

"She's still around, Kurt."

"That's bullshit," Kurt spat out the words, frustrated and angry. "She's dead. There's no heaven. No hell. No second life. Just deadness."

"You don't have to believe in God, but she is still around," Blaine said, keeping his vocal tone calm in contrast to Kurt's. "Through memories... and through you. When you're scared, or lonely, or even happy, she can be there. Whenever you need her."

Kurt paused, trying to stop the tears building up in his eyes.

"I'm starting to feel like a burden."

"You are not, and never will be, a burden." Blaine smiled, leaning forward and kissing his lips ever so softly. It was such a small gesture that the contact seemed non-existent, and instead just a memory, lingering like a ghost on Kurt's pale, pink pout.

"Thank you." Kurt whispered.

"For what?" Blaine asked, smoothing at Kurt's baby-like skin once again.

"Being here."

Blaine smiled. "I'll always be here."

The boys looked at each other a while longer until they settled into a curled up position on the bed, staring into space and enjoying the comfortable silence that hung in the air.

"She would have loved you, you know." Kurt spoke, breaking the quiet.

Blaine didn't respond verbally, instead just bringing his best friend closer and kissing his cheek before resting their heads together. Then slowly, but surely, the two boys drifted into slumber, listening to the soft, gentle lullaby of each other's breathing.

You watch me,
just watch me,
I'm calling.

I'm calling, and one day all will know.

Thanks for reading. Please review? x