Oh my God, guys. I can't believe how patient you all have been, and I'm so sorry for the wait. Life got a bit crazy, and my muse kind of died, but here I am, with the next chapter. There will only be one more chapter of ICY, plus an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me, and please review if you'd like!

Song used is: "Without You", from RENT.

Adjusting to life as someone who was free in New York was hard.

In the first couple months of Kurt's freedom, he felt… lost. He was so used to commands and having restrictions on him that most days, he had just hid in his room, despite urgings to come out. And sometimes he would have breakdowns over nothing in particular, from simple things like being able to watch whatever he wanted on TV without asking, to being able to go to the store and buy the things he wanted. Half the time Kurt lived in fear that this was some wild dream he had made up top cope with the abuse, and that one day he'd wake up to find that it was all a lie.

Carole, Finn and Rachel helped as much as they could. Carole and Kurt spent most of their free time together, Carole latching onto the only thing that was left of the husband she had loved and lost so early, Kurt clinging to the woman his father had obviously adored. Carole didn't mind holding him when he randomly burst into tears, never minded gently reminding him that he could do whatever he wanted in the house, and loved to let him help out when the urges to serve that had drilled into him were too great to ignore. The fact that she was a soft spoken woman made it easier for him to adjust to being around her, and Kurt quickly came to love her.

Finn and Rachel were a bit harder. He remembered them, of course, but that still didn't prepare him for how dynamic they were. Rachel was as loud as ever, her gestures wide and emphatic, often raising her voice with excitement, which always sent Kurt cowering, his body expecting a blow even though his mind reminded him that this was Rachel Berry, who had bawled for days at the sight of someone cracking an egg open. And she did try, very hard in fact, to tone it down around Kurt, something he was grateful for. Kurt did love the fact that she went out and bought a new iPod, loading it with all his favourite music ( "And some choices I added because your musical taste was lacking, Kurt. Seriously, how could you not have Funny Girl on here?"), and Kurt quickly was reminded as to why she was his best friend.

Finn was a different story entirely. While he wasn't the jock who had mistreated him, or any of his cruel masters, the fact that he was so big and loud caused Kurt to flinch whenever he walked into the room. He knew that it hurt Finn, and he tried not to, but it was hard to ignore his body's programming. It didn't matter that they were family, or that Finn had helped rescue him, the fear was still there. It helped when Finn was with Rachel, or with Carole, and Kurt could see how dopey the young man really was. He even found himself relaxing when Finn goofed off in the living room, singing some obnoxious rock and roll song and nearly breaking a vase when he was dancing around. It just took time.

Reconnecting with his old friends was a somewhat overwhelming experience. They all visited at once, which was mind blowing in and of itself, and he cried so much he was surprised his face wasn't permanently stained with tears. He and Mercedes had cried for hours, clinging to each other as Tina handed them tissues. He had to convince Santana that, no, she couldn't go after the guys who had taken them away, and Brittany was so happy that her "lost unicorn" posters had actually helped. Kurt was welcomed back with open arms by everyone, and sometimes, he couldn't believe that this was actually his life. He had a home, he had family, friends, people who loved him.

So he felt selfish when he realized that he wasn't happy.

He actively avoided any thought of Blaine. It simply hurt too much. But sometimes, he would hear a song and it would remind him of how Blaine would dramatically serenade him with it, or he'd catch a whiff of cologne that reminded him of the one Blaine would use, and he would break down in tears. He'd have dreams of the curly haired boy, laughing and smiling, telling him he was beautiful, that he was safe, that he was wanted. He dreamt of Blaine's gentle hands on his skin, of light butterfly kisses, and of passionate embraces. Everything inside of him longed for Blaine, to hold him and be held, and the fact that Blaine just… gave him away, hurt.

Nearly seven months after Kurt was freed, he opened up to his therapist about him. Emma Pillsbury was the school counselor, and Carole had thought that he should see someone at least relatively familiar. At first he hadn't been comfortable with opening up to anyone, knowing that his problems were many and that it would probably take a long time to fix, but Emma was a kind, patient young woman. She didn't push him, but posed questions that made him think, and listened when he spoke without judgment. When he finally spilled his thoughts about Blaine, she was silent for a while, neatening up her already perfect desk.

Finally, she asked softly, "Kurt, do you love him? And if so, do you think it's just because he was kind to you, or what?"

It was a simple question, one that he thankfully didn't even have to think about. His entire body provided the answer and, wiping his eyes, he nodded. "Yes, I love him." Kurt whispered it, sitting back on the couch, pulling his legs to his chest. "And maybe it started out that way… but I love him. The way he smiled when he talked, how he was so enthusiastic about everything, his eyes…" All of those things that hurt to remember.

"Do you think he loves you?"

That question had been the one that he had wrestled with all this time. He had thought that Blaine loved him. The way that Blaine looked at him, as if he was the only thing in the room, or the gentle touches that were filled with so much tenderness… seeing Finn and Rachel do those same things had convinced him that Blaine had loved him. But if so, why had he just… given him away, when he had promised to keep him? Logically, he knew that Blaine probably just wanted what was best, but Kurt had wanted to stay with him. He had wanted to stay, and Blaine hadn't even listened.

"I… think so? I meant, he always… looked at me as if I was the most important thing in the world." Kurt finally answered. "But he just watched me leave… and he hasn't even contacted me!" Kurt knew it was frowned upon to contact a slave once they were freed, but he thought that Blaine would, even if it was just to see if he was okay.

Emma rubbed hand sanitizer onto her hands, watching him through compassionate eyes. "Kurt, have you heard of the saying, 'if you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours. If they don't, they never were'?" When Kurt shook his head, she continued. "Drawing from what you're telling me, this Blaine boy cared deeply about you. So deeply, in fact, that he went beyond what you both wanted to what was right. And, yes, while slavery is technically right and allowed, it wasn't what he felt was morally right. Setting you free was."

Kurt bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. Blaine hated slavery, he knew that, the passionate rants that Blaine had gone on convincing him of that. And he knew that Blaine was a noble person, just from the way he had rescued him. "But why hasn't he at least tried to contact me? To check up on me? If he loved me, he'd do that, right?"

Emma sighed, looking at him. "Kurt… you realize you're might not be the only one hurting here, right?" Taking Kurt's surprised look as a no, she continued. "Maybe it hurts too much, losing you. Or maybe he just wants to make a clean break, in hopes that it'll help you. Maybe he's scared to. There's a number of reasons, Kurt. Why do you expect the worst of him?"

Kurt's eyes filled with tears. "Because – because without him, I'm not happy. And… it's easier to think that he d-doesn't want me, to try and get over him, to think that he wants me and let me go. I feel so selfish, loving him and wanting him, when I have everything here. Why do I want more?"

Emma reached out, touching the top of Kurt's hand, eyes gentle and filled with sympathy. "The heart wants for what it wants, Kurt. No one's blaming you for that." She sat back, fiddling with her fingers. "And who says he's the only one who can contact you? If you want to hear from him so badly, why don't you write him a letter?"

Kurt was thunderstruck, honestly not even considering that option. That night, he went home from counseling filled with a determination that hadn't been seen since he had been sold. He spent days writing and rewriting the letter, getting the address from Rachel, who was all too happy to give it to him ( "It's like Romeo and Juliet, Kurt. You're living your own fairytail!" "You do realize by the end of Romeo and Juliet, six people died, right, Rach?" "Stop bursting my bubble, Tina, those facts don't matter.") He waited breathlessly for a response, disappointed when none came. That didn't stop him from writing every single day, hoping that Blaine would reach out to him.

It wasn't until it was a nearly a year after he had been freed when Kurt's efforts bore fruit. But it wasn't in the way he expected.

Rachel blew into the Hudson house, babbling with excitement, talking about how there was a musical festival happening down in Time's Square and they had to go. Kurt had gotten a bit more of his confidence back, though walking around New York alone still frightened him. Carole always laughed, saying that was normal, that most people in general were a bit nervous too. But a day out would be fun, he supposed, so he agreed to tag along with Rachel and Finn. Rather predictably, Rachel dragged them all over, critiquing the different groups like she was the expert on music.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt wandered off one direction to grab some water, when a familiar, haunting voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.

Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.

The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.

The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die, without you..."

There, not a few feet away from him, stood Blaine Anderson, his eyes closed as he sang. He looked older, his curls slicked back to his head, wearing a dark blue and red uniform. Guys behind him, all around his age, were singing background, all a capella. Blaine was front and centre, a small crowd gathering around him, his voice as rich as Kurt remember, but with something so achingly sad it brought tears to his eyes. Blaine was here and this song… Kurt remembered one light night conversation about their favourite songs, and Kurt had mentioned this being one of them. The pain that was ringing in Blaine's voice tugged at his heartstrings, and he could only watch as Blaine sang.

When the last note ended, Blaine's eyes opened, and even from this distance, Kurt could see tears shimmering in their amber depths. Blaine bowed to the applause that echoed the small area, and as he was turning around, Kurt couldn't help but push forward, crying out over the noise, "Blaine!"

Kurt watched as Blaine froze, his heart in his throat as the boy slowly turned around, waiting for Blaine's frantic eyes to settle on him, to see him. And when they did, honey eyes met glasz, and something inside of him both broke and mended as Blaine stepped forward, disbelief in his eyes.

"Kurt."