I think I'll try to update every Friday or so, but the homework stuff kind of gets in the way. Eeep! Thanks so much to everyone who read chapter one, reviewed, faved, etc.! This is my first real more-than-one-chapter story, so wish me luck!

Also, tell me if you want some steamy scenes with Blaine next chapter. I don't want to moved too fast with the story, but... :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Kurt or Blaine or any other Glee characters even though I wish I did D:


The wooden stage was gone – totally and completely lost in space. Blaine was lost too, but not without the possibility of being found. He was floating in a dark, purple abyss, small specks of light flitting around him. He swiveled his body in a circle, trying to place himself somewhere, but not finding anything that could ever remotely describe where he was. Finally a sort of landmark appeared; the bird from the circus strode much further away from him, squawking awkwardly and jerking its head in different directions. Blaine would have laughed at the similarity between the bird and himself, but at that moment he was more concerned about where in the world Kurt had sent him.

"Hello?" Blaine called, an echo of his voice coming back quickly.

"Blaine!" the voice was right behind him. Blaine shook from surprised and whipped around to face the illusionist, standing confidently in his shiny leather boots and white gloves. His posture contrasted to Blaine's, who was bent strangely from the lack of gravity. Kurt had a smile plastered onto his face that stretched almost to his ears. "I did the trick right! I'm glad it worked this time."

"This time?" Blaine asked incredulously. Was this really the first time he'd gotten this disappearing act correct? "What do you mean 'this time'?" His voice was rising unintentionally from his panic.

"It means I've never done this act on such a large scale," Kurt said dismissively, as if things like this happened on a daily basis. "It's good that it did, though, or else you might have been lost in a very, very different dimension from this. I've been there before, and let me tell you, it is not an easy thing to live through. I manage."

"You did this in full knowledge that I could have been in danger?" Panic switched to anger in a second. Blaine raised an accusatory finger to Kurt and poked it hard into the taller man's chest. "How in the world would that have turned out? How is this even real, anyway?"

Kurt snatched his hand away from his chest and leaned into Blaine, his lips centimeters away from the other's ear. Blaine shuddered lightly as the illusionist whispered seductively, "Now, now, Mister Anderson, a magician cannot simply reveal all of his tricks, can he?" Kurt pulled back and cocked an eyebrow up, smirking at a defeated Blaine.

He turned on his heels sharply, away from the shorter man, and began walking away. "I've got to get back to the show," his voice floated eerily through the space, landing like music on Blaine's ears. "Sit tight!" The illusionist snapped his fingers and disappeared.

The only remaining human being in the space sighed loudly and ran a hand over his face. "What in the world," he breathed to himself, shaking his head.

It felt almost like an express train had hit him, but in all honesty, Blaine wasn't quite in his right mind so it could have been anything hitting him. All that he knew was that he was back on the stage and there was a dull roar coming from all sides. He stood up slowly to ward off the dizziness that threatened him, but he still was mildly groggy. The first thing he saw was the cage, but the bird wasn't inside it – Blaine was. He gripped the cold, metal bars to steady himself as his vision adjusted. The audience came into view soon after.

He could see Angeline standing up and clapping vigorously, all the while a look on her face said many different things. She was worried for Blaine, happy for the success of the illusionist, among others. He wanted so badly to return to his seat and rid himself of his shaking, comfort Angeline, sit for the sake of sitting, but a firm hand rested on his shoulder now.

"Thank you, thank you!" Kurt gushed to the crowds. He bowed slightly as Blaine's eyes traveled around him. The bird was being led off the stage by the clowns. A sort of stage hand was unlocking the cage and Blaine emerged, still shuddering lightly. Kurt smiled sweetly to him again and spoke into his microphone. "Give a big round of applause to Mister Blaine Anderson! Thank you for volunteering!"

Kurt patted him on the back and moved the mike aside. "You did better than I expected – happy birthday!" he said to the curly haired man as he was ushered back to his seat. It left Blaine in a stump; how did Kurt know all of this?

The rest of the circus went by in a blur; Kurt did a few more tricks that stunned the audience over and over. The elephants came out and danced with the clowns for some time. Other acts came and went, but all the while Blaine couldn't wipe Kurt off of his mind. He had to have an amazing sort of power to make Blaine warp into the cage, but it was impossible to send people to alternate dimensions. Stuff like that was unheard of in their society. It was some sort of trick – Kurt had even said it was – that messed with Blaine's mind for a few seconds as he was probably moved underneath the stage.

But there had been no sign of trap doors, Blaine noted. The stage was too smooth, the wood panels uninterrupted all the way across. That theory was out. There had to be some other explanation, but he couldn't put a finger on it, at least, not with the roar in the circus tent.

Blaine finally returned to earth when the announcer thanked them extensively for coming to the show, that they could visit their favorite performers in their personal tents, and that he hoped they would come back next time. Angeline tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for them to get up. It took them some time before they exited the tent. The crowd was congested around all of the exits and didn't really sort itself out quickly.

Members of the circus were greeting the people exiting the tent and signing their programs happily. Blaine perked up – perhaps he could go find Kurt in the sea of people.

He turned to his cousin, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Angeline, I'll be back in a bit. I'm going to look for the illusionist and, uh," Blaine stammered, a red blush spread over his face, "Th-thank him for letting me participate in the show." He smiled weakly, trying to cover up his obvious nervousness. Angeline laughed a little and patted a pocket on his blazer.

"Knock yourself out, Blainers," she giggled towards him. He caught her eyeing one of the gymnasts who was signing a young boy's autograph book and grinned. It looked as though they might both get lucky today.

Blaine waded through the masses, looking every which way for Kurt but not seeing him anywhere. After about twenty minutes of searching, he caved in with a sigh and went to one of the contortionists for directions. "Hello!" he said with a cheery smile. The contortionist looked up at him from the ground where she was twisted into a pretzel.

"Salutations!" she said. Her voice had a nice ring in it. "My name is Andelle, but you can call me Andie since you're technically one of us now." Andie untwisted her legs and stood up with a cute squeak. Her short hair bounced in this movement. She shook his hand vigorously though he hadn't held it out – an impolite mistake on Blaine's part. "What can I do for you? I assume it's not autographs, correct?"

"That you would be," he chuckled. "I'd like to know where I can talk to the illusionist… uh, Kurt, I mean." Once again the blush was sneaking up his cheeks. He cursed inwardly but kept his calm façade up.

Andie nodded and pointed towards a circus member tent – much, much smaller than the one where the circus was held. "He'd be in that one right there. Be quiet when you go in, though." She smiled knowingly at Blaine and shuffled him off.

He carried himself with uncertainty as he made his way over to Kurt's tent. If worse came to worst he could always blow it off by asking him for his autograph and thanking him for letting him participate in the show. Finally he was at the opening of the tent, his hand lingering on the canvas opening.

"Come in," the illusionist's voice carried through the tent with a crack. Something was off, he could tell, even though he'd only just met this man today. He moved the canvas aside and stepped in. The tent was lit with a small oil lamp in the corner and sent an orangey-yellow glow across Kurt's back. He wasn't facing Blaine; instead, his attention was turned to a tombstone radio set on the floor. The radio announcer was giving news on the latest battles fought in Europe. Blaine was brought back to reality – they were in the middle of the Second World War, and here they were, at a circus. They were busy enjoying themselves while others were out dying for their country. He felt a pang of guilt, amplified when he heard Kurt hiccup quietly.

He immediately went to Kurt's side, his hand hesitantly hovering just over Kurt's shoulder. Kurt was crying, but not the blubbery, messy crying that many girls Blaine knew did. This was a more reserved type of crying, as though he was trying to cover himself.

"What's wrong?" Blaine heard himself say, a sudden burst of confidence and sureness causing him to do so. The hand came down to the illusionist's shoulder and rubbed in gentle circles.

His crying shifted to the harder, deeper kind of tears as Kurt shook his head indignantly. He swatted Blaine's hand away in one quick motion. He stood up, swaying a bit, and backed away a bit. "It's so sad," he sort of groaned, cracking in the middle. He started again. "It's so sad, isn't it? How we're all living our lives over here when our men – boys just our age, maybe younger, even – are over there, dying."

"Kurt?" Blaine cocked his head to one side.

"My brother," fresh tears sprang from Kurt's beautiful blue-green-gray eyes. "He was on one of the lists they announced on the radio. A list of casualties… from the Blitz." Kurt hiccupped again. He shook slightly, but then held his head up higher and rolled his shoulders back. It may have been Blaine's eyes playing tricks on him, but the lamp in the corner began growing brighter as Kurt adjusted himself.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry –"

"I'd like you to leave now."

"What?" Blaine shook his head. He couldn't leave now; he'd only just gotten there.

"You heard me. Drop by tomorrow, though," Kurt added, wiping a stray tear. "Our circus won't be leaving town for a few weeks. You have a lot of questions for me, I'm sure." Blaine's puzzled look was returned with a wink. He stepped out of the tent, leaving Kurt to grieve. It pained him to know that this man, this beautiful, talented man was in a tent, crying because his brother is dead, and he was just going to leave. It was only justified by Kurt telling him to leave, so it wasn't like he had much of a choice.

Blaine met Angeline outside one of the cotton candy stands and soon headed home. He wasn't gifted with much sleep that night. But then again, he wasn't going to get much sleep for a while.


My dad has a tombstone radio - it's pretty cool. It's a little scratched up but it's nothing some polish can't cover up. I love the antiquity of it.

Please review! I know you probably hear that a lot, but seriously. It means a lot to me!