I.
They handle their fight with all the grace of two hopelessly clueless teenage boys. Blaine returns from the bathroom and there's a tense silence after their tentative greetings before they both blurt out "I'm sorry". Their apologies are more stuttered out ramblings than anything else and though neither of them have actually managed to say anything, the understanding is there nonetheless. Blaine gives Kurt an apologetic grimace that all at once says 'I'm sorry, but it's out of my control at this point' before pouncing on him with a tight hug and Kurt is hit with the sudden realization that he'd give this boy anything.
And so they're back to being best friends or sweethearts or whatever this mold they've fit themselves into is, except with the realization that they can hurt each other.
They've never been closer.
II.
Kurt has always appreciated the marble floors that line the halls of Dalton and his heels click satisfyingly against the hard stone as he makes his way towards his dorm room. He's never been one to ignore taste, and yes, Dalton's rooms hold a classic sort of construction that breathes class and influence. And so okay, the walls may be cold, but they're there, strong and steadfast, and it's enough.
His key clicks in the lock and Kurt shoulders his way into the small room, humming tunelessly (never tonelessly) to himself. The sun spills in through the window and for the first time in months it feels like the harsh bite of winter is finally ebbing away.
His flimsy song leaves his lips and Kurt is all at once hit with the eerie silence that fills the room. He snaps his head quickly towards his desk. He decided a long time ago in one of the many car rides home from a cold, white hospital room that dread is very much the worst emotion a person could feel and, no, he wouldn't like to experience it again, thank you.
A ray of sun falls across the gilded cage and it shines prettily in the panel of light. Kurt crosses the room in two strides and quietly unlocks the hooks on the opening of the cage. He runs his fingers across the yellow feathers that shine all the more brightly in the sunlight.
The quiet murmur of "Oh, Pav" rings through the silence. Kurt thinks it sounds very absolute.
III.
Kurt sits cross-legged on the floor, facing his desk and an open window. The cold air seeping through for once is refreshing.
Blaine's turned around a chair, straddling it so that he can rest his head on his arms that are folded over the hard seatback. Kurt's knee is just barely touching his ankle and he wishes he could stop himself from confusing casualness with intimacy.
They stare resolutely at the small lump on Kurt's desk, covered in his favorite black silk scarf. The sun has since shifted behind a cloud so that the only light that comes through is a dull mask of what it had been before.
"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to open that window and let him fly away." Kurt's voice is even, with no such trace of remorse.
"His wings were clipped," Blaine finally responds. "He wouldn't have gotten very far."
Kurt closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. He has never been a fan of metaphors of clichés or whatever - being exposed to Rachel Berry for any extended period of time, no matter how fond they are of her, will do that to a person. But if there is some white light at the end of a tunnel, Kurt imagines it must be blinding.
IV.
Kurt and Blaine settle on a spot almost directly in the center of the school's generally ignored gardens. It's far more open than Kurt would have liked, but really, it's the middle of March and they're just lucky they've found a spot so sun-exposed that it's thawed enough for Blaine to be able to dig a small hole.
No matter the occasion, Kurt really doesn't see any need for him to dirty his uniform. He likes to think he handles death with the stoic grace that has always suited his pointed features. It's an easy mask to wear.
A look that would be decidedly ruined by the wet spots that have no doubt seeped through Blaine's pant knees.
Kurt is unsurprised to recognize the overwhelming gratefulness that surges through him at the other boy's simple presence.
V.
It strikes Kurt how morbid it actually is that they've decided to use a shoebox emblazoned with the Dalton crest as Blaine gently nudges brown earth across its surface with the toe of his shoe.
Kurt has had exactly two experiences with death in his lifetime and... Well, after the first he would have thought he'd be better equipped to handle the death of a bird.
He decidedly does not think of an April day and an oak coffin.
He, less decidedly, tries not to think too much of it when Blaine grabs his hand and squeezes gently.