Author Notes: So, I'm overwhelmed by your messages, each and every one means a lot, and helps me to believe that I'm actually doing this justice. Thank you!

Chapter Four

"This will be your room?" Blaine's aunt pushed open a door down the hall to reveal a medium sized room, only a little smaller than Blaine's own bedroom. It was stark, though, cluttered with boxes, with a desk squeezed in, and a rundown sofa that had definitely seen better days, "I know it's in a bad state, but, you know, we can clear it out a bit, move your stuff in, and the sofa opens out into a pretty decent bed that you can use until we can hire a van to move some of your bigger furniture down here…"

"It's fine."

Blaine watched as Aunt Sarah flinched a little, and felt a bit guilty – it had been all he had been saying all day, and he was probably even sicker of saying it that she was of hearing it, but he was just so tired. She recovered quickly, albeit poorly, "Okay then, well, I'll leave you to get…settled. I'll be in the kitchen making a shopping list if you need me."

And then she was gone, and Blaine felt his entire being slouch. Finally alone. Finally…alone.

Alone, because this room wasn't his, but it was, because the solicitor said so. Because he couldn't go home. Because this was apparently his home – and what the hell gave anyone the right to suddenly start calling his home "Your Dad's House", and his aunt's house "Your Home"? He had wanted to yell, he had wanted to shout, the entire time he had been listening to that man describe in gentle detail how his future would be okay, because his dad had made provisions, he had sorted it out. Of course, there would have to be a few alterations to his life here and there, but everyone just wanted the best for him, everyone would endeavour to cause only minimal upheaval to his life.

Right…

Blaine stood in the middle of the room, his room. He saw boxes, and the sofa, and the desk. Detached objects of no meaning, things to which he had no feeling towards.

Something started to crawl under his skin, fed by the silence and the hollow space that pressed down on him. It spread, welling up in his stomach, up his throat, into his arms, his limbs – a demand to twitch, to violently shake his arms, anything to get rid of this suffocating noose around his entire body. His lungs contracted, and he felt like he was an observer in his own body, while at the exact same moment, being entirely too trapped in his own mind, unable to escape, unable to comprehend.

Alone.

The fissure of hostile energy spiked through Blaine's body, and without even really realising it, he had already reached for his phone in a desperate grasp and was texting words that in no way reflected what he was feeling. And yet, even as he typed them, the energy seemed to lull slightly, and when Kurt texted him back almost immediately, Blaine felt his breathing stutter back into a more regular rhythm.

I'm already on the road. Xxx

Just a normal phrase, but it was like a drug, washing through Blaine's system and soothing the panic that had clawed at him only seconds before. Unable to bear another second in his bedroom that was not his bedroom, Blaine took a steadying breath and made his way downstairs.

And back into the awkwardness. He knew his aunt was desperately trying, and that she had lost someone she loved too, but neither of them knew how to act around each other. They were related, but despite living so close, Blaine hadn't ever really had much contact with Sarah. He had never really known why, only that his dad had really not liked his brother in law, Blaine's Uncle Peter. Blaine had only met Peter a few times, and didn't really see what his dad had particularly objected to, but he always remembered the tension from numerous family get-togethers. Peter was out of town at the moment on business, according to Sarah, all the way over in Seattle, and wouldn't be back for another fortnight or so.

"Hey, sweetheart." Sarah looked up from the counter, "I was just heading out…do you want to come to the store with me?" She said the last part incredibly uncertainly, and once again Blaine was reminded of how awkward it all was, on top of everything else.

"No, I'm fine." Seriously. Could he not say anything else?

But if his aunt showed annoyance at his repetitive communication skills, she didn't show it, instead offering him a watery smile, replying quietly, "Okay then, I won't be long. Make yourself at home while I'm gone, okay? I've gone my phone on me, and I've put the number on the fridge."

"Okay."

But he wasn't okay, because it had been bad enough being alone in that room, so what would the whole house feel like?

Blaine heard voices at the front door then, and somehow managed to push his thoughts away. He saw his aunt make her way down the drive as he watched through the living room window, and went out into the hall.

Kurt. "Hey."

Kurt whipped his head round, and Blaine watched as a myriad of emotions flittered across his boyfriend's face until it seemed to settle into a serene gentleness that was so new to Blaine, but at the same time, seemed so right on Kurt "Hey."

A pause, and then in one smooth move, Kurt had stepped into the hall, closed the door and taken two slow steps into Blaine's personal space. It was as if Kurt had broken through an invisible barrier, a barrier that had been so strong that it had held fast all day, even when his aunt had hugged him, or when he had hugged Carole, or when he had shaken the solicitor's hand. And Kurt had broken it just by standing there.

And suddenly, Blaine could breathe. Suddenly, he wasn't alone. The same feeling of safety he had felt the night before, when Kurt had simply lain there with him, returned. They were barely an inch apart, and Kurt just looked at Blaine, silently telling him that he was here, gently taking each of Blaine's hands in his own at their sides. And Blaine just let himself breathe, the noose around his throat loosening as he just let his head fall slightly forward to rest against Kurt's temple, his shoulders relaxing.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there for, in a stranger's hallway, in an alien house, in Blaine's home that was not his home, but he could not describe how grateful he was to Kurt for just being there, for letting him breathe. Finally, he pulled back slightly so he could look at Kurt, before moving forward again to place a soft kiss on his boyfriend's lips, "Thanks for coming."

"Of course." Kurt paused, his face still only inches from Blaine, and it was a testament to their relationship that the silence hanging over them was comfortable. He seemed to be debating how to phrase something, "How are you doing?"

If the question hadn't made something stick in Blaine's throat, then he probably would have kissed Kurt again out of gratefulness from him not asking the moronic question of 'are you okay?'. He shrugged one shoulder, intending to answer that he was alright, considering, but instead all that tumbled out was, "I don't know."

Kurt sighed softly, "You wanna sit down and talk, or..?" He trailed off, apparently not actually having an 'or'.

Blaine shrugged again, not meeting Kurt's eyes, as the relief that had swallowed the panic was now itself being swallowed by that same numbness that had been trying to drown him all day. This had been a bad idea; Kurt didn't deserve to be dragged down like this, "Your Dad will probably be wondering where you are. I saw Finn's car outside, maybe you should-"

Kurt cut him off, a resolute gentleness gracing his features as he sharply tightened his grip on each of Blaine's hands, jolting the other boy into actually looking at him, "Dad doesn't finish work for a couple of hours, and Finn has his hands full with Santana – hopefully not literally… I'm not going to force my company upon you Blaine, but you texted me, and I'm here."

Blaine nodded tightly, unsure of where to begin, his body automatically keeping a hold of one of Kurt's hands as he led them to into a stranger's living room, and onto a relative's sofa. Everything was moving so fast, and his head was spinning so much from all the new information, changes, implications and facts that he barely had any room for emotion, any room to try and voice what he really felt.

So maybe that was the answer – stick to the facts, "It's been twenty four hours. A whole day."

"Oh, honey…" The endearment slipped from Kurt's lips in a breath, previously only having been used between the two in light conversation or ribbing, with grins on their faces and sparkles in their eyes. Now, it just lingered in the space between them, an anchor.

"Aunt Sarah wants to go home tomorrow –to my home. To…sort stuff out… I don't think, I don't know if…" Blaine trailed off and then seemed to shake himself, this time continuing vehemently, "When is it too soon? Because yesterday, I was sitting with you and the New Directions, and I was thinking about what the Warblers might do this year. And I was gonna go round yours, and kiss you. Then I was gonna go home and see Dad, and we'd probably argue about colleges again. And I'd have called you to say goodnight, and texted David about meeting up on Saturday. And I was gonna go back to Dalton, and there'd have been glee club and school and you. But now, today, all I really have is you… So when is it too soon to actually lie down and take all that, to let them plan your life, and tell you it'll be okay, because they have everything covered, and that you'll get through this? Because I already have, and it's only been a day. Shouldn't there be a space in between, to just…" He trailed off, finally unable to voice any more, the pent up pressures of the day and the repeated I'm fines finally bursting out in a terrified mess.

"…To just stop." Kurt finished for Blaine.

Blaine looked down at his lap, where his hands sat entwined with Kurt's, "Everyone's looking at me like I'm nuts. Like I should have burst into tears, grieved, accepted and moved on in the space of a day just so they can get everything sorted with my life. But I can't. I've tried, and I just…can't."

Kurt felt a stab of something close to his heart; a healthy dose of anger at the world, as well as a sliver of guilt, because hadn't he been thinking something along the same lines? Hadn't he been willing Blaine to react? Perhaps more harshly than he had intended, Kurt brought one hand up to rest against Blaine's cheek, and forced his boyfriend to meet his gaze, "Don't you dare let anyone tell you what you should be feeling right now, Blaine Anderson, because they don't know shit, okay?"

Blaine blinked, unused to hearing Kurt swear, but the words had managed the desired effect, because he just stared at Kurt with a desperate, grateful honesty, "I love you."

Kurt pulled a smile, a lovingly familiar response falling from his lips, "I love you too. And so do a lot of other people. You've…you've lost your dad," his words choked over voicing the reality that made Blaine flinch, "but you're not alone, and I'll keep telling you that until you believe me."

And then Blaine's mouth twisted into a crooked, bitter smile that looked completely out of place on the Warbler's face, and Kurt was reminded starkly of their first fight in the Lima Bean with the 'bi incident'. Without meeting Kurt's eyes, Blaine repeated, "Yesterday, I had my dad, and a home, and the Warblers, and Dalton and the guys, and you."

"Yeah, and-"

Blaine cut Kurt off, repeating the words that Kurt had missed the implications of the first time, "Now I just have you."

Kurt froze, thoughts whirling and crashing around in his head as he tried to work out what Blaine was implying, "Blaine? What's happened?"

Blaine didn't look at him, and for a minute, neither of them breathed. Then the bitter smile faded from his face in pure exhaustion, and in a dead monotone, he relayed everything that he had learned that day. As if learning your dad was dead wasn't enough for a lifetime…

"I'm moving to Lima, to live with Aunt Sarah and Uncle Peter. She's agreed to be my guardian until I graduate high school, after which time Dad's estate will be released to me. Until then, everything is held in trust, untouchable except for the monthly stipend Aunt Sarah will get to look after me. Dad sorted it all out in his will…years ago, apparently."

Kurt titled his head slightly, "It'll be okay Blaine. It's only for a year, and your aunt seems nice. I know it'll be weird living in a new town, but-"

Again, Blaine cut him off, "The will was old. Dad sorted it all when he turned forty, before everything happened at my old school. He made loads of provisions in it, like who should take care of me; how I should live; what would happen to our home; making sure I'd have enough funds to go to any college I wanted to - all the money safe in a separate, untouchable account; laying out everything he wanted for his…funeral." Blaine stumbled over the word. "He thought of everything…"

A sick feeling coiled in Kurt's stomach, as he realised what Blaine was trying to say, but unable to voice, because to voice it would make it real, "Dalton…"

"Is expensive," Blaine stated flatly, "And far away. Until I graduate, the only accessible money from Dad's estate is the maintenance stipend for my guardian. And he stipulated everything to do with that when I was still at public school, before Dalton. He never thought to change anything when I switched schools, because, well, why would he? It's not like any of this was supposed to happen…"

"Surely there's something your aunt can do? Or a lawyer or something. Special circumstances, or..?"

Blaine's body just radiated defeat as he sat there on the unfamiliar sofa next to Kurt, their knees touching. "Apparently by the time all the legal processes of technically contesting the will are dealt with, I'd be graduating anyway. And until then, there's no way my aunt and uncle can afford to send me to Dalton for an entire year." He laughed, hollow and humourlessly, "So I guess I'll be joining McKinley after all."

Kurt had imagined this moment, those exact words, countless times. He had fantasised and dreamt about what it would be like; the joy, the happiness, the sheer completeness that would be Blaine at McKinley, with his friends, in his glee club.

But now? Now he just felt sick, and empty. Completely helpless, because there was nothing he could do. Now, he realised, he didn't want Blaine to come to McKinley High. He didn't want Blaine to move to Lima. He didn't want any of this.

All he wanted was for Blaine to smile, for Blaine to go home to Westerville, to his dad, to go to Dalton in that dapper uniform, to grin and dance like a maniac with the Warblers.

Except that couldn't happen now. The world had shattered and reformed in entirely the wrong way.

Twenty four hours.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Sooo, hi. Did that even make sense? I really hope it did! I'd love to hear from all of you about how you found this chapter, what you think of the McKinley development, because I love you and your opinions! :)