~January, 1940~

~KURT~

"My name is Kurt."

After sealing the envelope shut, Kurt sighed making sure the sentence that he had written on the front was clear. This was probably an effort in vain, but it was the last hope that he had. After two months of no more than a few stolen glances and long held stares that made his heart stop every time, Kurt was desperate to know who this boy was. Every morning, Kurt rushed to the streetcar stop, no longer waiting for Artie and Sam just so he could see that the boy was okay.

Munich was no longer the happy, free city it had once been. The police had begun what they referred to as "condensing"; moving Jews into the designated areas of the cities known as ghettos. They were slums, essentially housing that the poor had abandoned. If the boy was moved into these ghettos, there was a chance that Kurt might never see him again and Kurt would spend the rest of his life wondering what if.

Throwing in his grey coat with the brown buttons going down the front, Kurt slid the letter inside his satchel and put a small piece of string inside his pocket eager to be on his way. As he walked out the door, Burt gave him a reproachful glance, eyes full of concern. Kurt kept his eyes down on the floor as he walked out the front door, not wanting to give any part of his plan away.

Once he arrive at the streetcar stop again much earlier than usual, Kurt took the string and letter out of his pocket and tied the envelope to the lamp post, making sure that it couldn't be seen by Kurt's other classmates. Later, when Sam and Artie arrived, the trio started their usual friendly banter, Kurt hiding the anxiousness that he felt with a calm face and pleasant smile, occasionally glancing down the street waiting for the other boy who never came even as the time for the streetcar arrival loomed closer.

"Something wrong?" asked Sam. Kurt smiled at his blonde friend, determined to mask his emotions.

"Fine…I'm fine…Don't worry about me. I'm just really cold." Kurt shivered slightly to put emphasis on his point.

Artie shook his head, stifling a small laugh as he threw his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Sissy." he muttered.

When the streetcar arrived, Kurt thought he had never felt more disappointed in his entire life. Even as the streetcar sped away, the sidewalk remained empty, no sign of the other boy.

~BLAINE~

"We're going to be late! I didn't know it was possible for anyone to walk any slower…." Cooper said, breathing heavily as he ran through the deep snow, leaving numerous footprints on the ground. Blaine followed, struggling to keep up. They should have left earlier he thought to himself, earlier in the morning when there were less guards out. The two Anderson brothers would have stayed home if it weren't for their father, who continued to stress the importance of education everyday. He nearly threw a fit when Cooper and Blaine proposed that they stay home for the day, on account of sleeping in too late. Blaine sometimes hated his father and just now was one of those times.

As Blaine continued after Cooper, he became so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't hear the noises that some other boys were making as they came up behind him.

"Blaine!" Cooper yelled as he turned to run towards his little brother, but it was too late. The other boys, all wearing swastika bands around their arms had already pulled Blaine down to the ground, punching and kicking him, despite the yells and cries of pain that were coming from him. The commotion had attracted some attention from passerby, some laughing, others showing signs of concern, none moving to help.

"Get away from him, you monsters!" Cooper said as he broke through the ring of boys surrounding his brother, who all ran after they saw how much taller Cooper was.

There was Blaine, lying in the snow, not getting up off the ground, but crying a torrent of tears while purple bruises formed on his face and a trickle of blood dripped from his nose.

Broken, Blaine felt broken and alone, feeling nothing else but pain and sadness as cold snow seeped it's way through Blaine's clothes but Blaine didn't care. He wanted nothing more than to lay there on the ground and fall asleep, never to wake up.

But today was no t the day that Blaine would lose himself to pain as Cooper grabbed his arms and pulled him off the ground, holding him close under his left arm.

"Let's keep going Blaine." said Cooper, intent on getting to the school where they would be relatively safe. Blaine limped along, walking as fast as he could until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye

"Hold on Coop, I dropped something."

Blaine rushed towards the lamppost where he had seen the abandoned yellowed piece of paper that had piqued his curiosity.

"You stupid idiot! Do you want to get hurt again?" Cooper said, voice full of concern, swiftly pulling Blaine back under his arm.

Luckily, he didn't notice the letter Blaine had stuffed into his pocket.

~KURT~

The end of the school day was near.

Today, the class had learned about the history of the Füherland (Germany), how to properly solve a quadratic equation in mathematics, Latin class, geography class, and the class that most held in the highest regard, The Jewish Question.

Everyday during "The Jewish Question" which Kurt despised so, the class was subject to useless teachings, which dictated beliefs that Kurt had heard so many times over.

"They're useless beings."

"They've ruined the economy."

"They're greedy monsters."

"They're full of disease."

"They start wars."

"They're clearly inferior to us."

Kurt never understood it all. They were people. They didn't deserve this. Nobody did.

As soon as they were let out, Kurt had to keep himself from running out the door. He met with Sam and Artie at the front doors once school was over and walked to the waiting streetcar.

"Wie war dein Tag?" asked Sam.

How was your day?

"Fine. Didn't learn anything useful. As usual."

"Isn't it the same everyday?" replied Artie.

And so the three boys rode the streetcar home together as they usually did, making fun of their teachers and fellow classmates, sitting at the back of the streetcar

away from everyone else.

As Kurt was walking home with Sam and Artie, he almost walked past the lamppost without a second glance. Realizing it, Kurt turned his head and took a quick look, eyes searching for the note that he had left there that morning.

When he didn't find it, Kurt thought he had never felt happier in his entire life.

~BLAINE~

The walls might have been able to keep the outside chill to a minimum, but the yells of Cooper and Blaine's father were much more forceful and no matter how much Blaine tried to plug his ear, the fighting words that were being exchanged between his older brother and father were still clear as day.

From within his bedroom, Blaine could make out the entire conversation.

"How could you let this happen?"

"How could I? We wanted to stay home. You forced us out!"

"You should have left earlier!"

"I'm sorry I'm not perfect! It's your fault that he's hurt!"

After that, Blaine couldn't make out much more because his mother had joined in with her shrill voice and the whole conversation became a whole loud bundle of voices.

His ribcage was still aching and the bruises were throbbing. The bandage that was stuck onto his nose made his face look almost comical. Blaine was sure his ankle was sprained at least because it was red and swollen to twice it's size. One of his eyes was purple and swollen shut.

He might have blamed himself for what happened if it had not been for their father, pushing them to leave the house this morning. After all, it was himself who hadn't been paying attention.

Blaine thought himself stupid to think that he was at least temporarily safe just because he was in a area where there where quite a few people. Nowhere was safe anymore.

When he and Cooper had arrived home that afternoon, their mother had immediately panicked, gathering bandages and wet dish towels from their tiny kitchen, wiping away the caked blood that was covering most of Blaine's face.

He couldn't do his homework. He couldn't read one of his long books that were crowded with words on each page. His head hurt too much. So Blaine limped over to where his coat was hanging off the back of his desk chair and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from one of the pocket, settling himself down in the chair and slowly opening the sealed envelope.

Dear Whoever You Are,

My name is Kurt. I'm that boy with the dirty-blonde hair. I think you might have seen me before.

I'm sorry we can't talk. Extenuating circumstances. You know what I mean. I suppose it'll get better. Eventually.

I've seen you with your brother, walking to school every morning. At least I think he's your brother. You two look alike.

I've got a brother. His name is Finn. My father is Burt and my mother is Carole. That's my family.

I know this seems quite random, but I feel the need to talk to you, to get to know you better. You're different from other people. There's a quiet maturity about you, yet laughter and happiness hidden in your eyes.

I'm not some insane person. Quite the contrary. If you'd like to respond, and I hope that you do, please leave another letter here at the address on the back of this paper. Try to do it early in the morning. On weekdays.

Don't let anybody know.

It would mean the world to me.

Kurt.

It was almost as if time had stopped. The continuous yelling in the background had faded to a dull drone and the branches outside Blaine's window that were swaying in the wind seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Kurt. Kurt was the name of the boy who had so quickly captured his heart within the span of a few months. The fact that Blaine now had to ability to contact him was enough excitement to keep him awake for the entire night.

Blaine pulled out his stationary kit and began writing.

My name is Blaine.