Officially a member of FFdotnet for a month.

Warnings: none (I don't think there's anything too major).

Once he drove home he was greeted by his dad who was pleasantly surprised to see him. "Hey Dad."

"Hi Kurt, how was your day?" His dad asked wearing an apron and attempting to flip whatever burger he was burning in the frying pan.

"Busy as usual. Apparently we're going to be doing our lab in science on fermentation." Kurt said removing his outerwear and hanging it in the hallway closet. His dad's thick denim jacket was hanging on the closet's doorknob much to his dismay. "Which means Mr. Lynch is going to get about seventy bottles of wine give or take a mishap."

"Wine?" Burt frowned creating a map of lines on his face. "I don't think that's allowed."

Kurt sighed. "Underage drinking, no. but it's for our lab assignment that's probably going to last weeks. Apparently fermentation takes a long time."

Burt huffed and paid attention to the burgers. "Dinner will be ready early, I think." He poked at the burger sizzling in the pan.

"It smells great." Kurt offered backing out of the kitchen to his room.

It smelled like one of his dad's better attempts at cooking. Burgers and baked chicken were about all the man could make in the kitchen. There was a time Burt couldn't cook anything more complicated than scrambled eggs and Spam.

Message from Broadway Spirit:

I miss talking with you.

Kurt frowned slightly at the phone in his hand wondering exactly who Broadway Spirit was.

"Kurt!" His dad yelled up the stairs. "Did you want the seeded hamburger bun or the fancy pants bun?"

"Fancy pants, Dad thanks! Toast them in the over for a few minutes." He called from his door.

Kurt changed out of his clothes into his comfy pajamas with high heel shoes and a long sleeve shirt. His wrist was hurting again after being reduced to a muted throb once his medicine kicked in around nine this morning.

He left his phone on his desk along with his folder for Math class. Maybe he could persuade Blaine for tutoring in the subject.

"Where's the vegetables?" Kurt asked immediately spying the plates with an open bun and burger. Burt coughed awkwardly and pulled out a tray from the oven. Roasted potatoes with bell pepper and onions. "That's better." Kurt threw a pot holder on the table so his dad could put down the dish. It was true, normally his dad would be frying French fries in the oven and drowning them in light mayonnaise and ketchup.

They tucked in and halfway through the meal, Burt casually dropped in a, "I heard from one of the Mr. Berry's that Rachel says you have been dating."

Kurt choked on his roasted pepper and wheezed and coughed until the stupid red vegetable popped into his paper napkin. "That girl drives me nuts!"

Burt was chewing and pointedly staring at Kurt who was avoiding his dad's eye until he snapped at the tension.

"I'm not dating Blaine. We're friends and… I don't think I like him that way." Kurt said quickly shoveling another forkful of potatoes in his mouth and chewing slowly.

"You don't think?" Burt repeated zeroing on the bit of information.

Kurt shook his head and spoke around his mouthful. "I don't know. I don't even have my soul mate's mark and I don't know him well enough to ask if he has his. I mean, how do you know that you're in love without knowing about the other person's potential mate?"

Burt put on a sympathetic expression. "You just know. It's not the same as me looking at some other woman and immediately figuring that I could be her soul mate. I had that chance and it feels different." He finished lamely.

"How different? Like… you feel like you're going to be sick or that amazing feeling when you hit a high F?" Kurt asked genuinely curious. While he was interested and had bouts of wanting to research, the forums about such things were at times not helpful with such topics.

"Um… it's like coming home, that feeling of being safe and relaxed and wanted." Burt said after careful thought. "It's difficult to put into words."

Did he feel that way about Blaine? Could… Kurt shook his head attempting to clear it of such thoughts.

"I don't know if it's the same for everyone but we sort of kept it amongst ourselves when we had first connect. Then all the girls talk with their friends and…" Burt shrugged. "I knew Elizabeth before either of our marks appeared and I would look at her and touch her hand," He gestured with his hand not holding his half-eaten burger. "I wouldn't feel anything. I don't think it was because I was blinded or what but after I had her name appear on my wrist it felt different."

"You became more aware of what and who she was?" Kurt tried to paraphrase. It was a concept that was both simple and difficult to explain. "I guess you were friends first and more later."

"Yeah! Yeah, exactly!" The man looked slightly relieved. "It's hard to explain but it was like a light bulb went off in my head and the lights were on and I saw."

After washing the many dishes from dinner (his dad tended to use more than he needed with cooking.), Kurt went up to his bathroom for a leisurely bath. Technically he was putting off his homework but he needed to think and a bubble bath was the best place for him.

His dad was in the kitchen figuring out the bills to be paid so Kurt was free to run a hot bath and sit and think.

While the faucet was running, he threw in his favorite bath salts and set his loofah and body wash on the edge of the tub. He then opened the little orange bottle and took his medication with a large glass of water.

Once the tub was filled, Kurt draped his towel and bath robe over his chair and wrapped his bandages in plastic cling film; he had laid out his pajamas on the bed. He wasn't supposed to soak it but old habits die hard and he had caught himself during his last bath doing just that.

He would have to apply a fresh bandage later, a task he was finding himself adept at. "Water is the perfect temperature." Kurt muttered to himself changing out of his clothes and dropping those on the clothes hamper.

After Halloween, he was planning to get his autumn clothes out and have a ball just doing laundry all day. He was thankful they had a dryer and an amazing washer that his dad was adept at using. It wasn't a chore he enjoyed, hauling heavy baskets to and from machines and up the stairs to the main part of the house. But he liked clothes and as much as he loved his dad, he wouldn't trust him with his wardrobe. Not even the jeans he wore.

Settled in the tub with his right hand cold from its resting place out of the water, he allowed his thoughts to drift to the various things that he pushed out of his mind.

Broadway Spirit. Was he (or she?) Blaine Anderson? There were some odd coincidences that were making him feel a touch uneasy and make him wonder just a bit. The message about Broadway Spirit wishing him well when he was dealing with this scarring on wrist…he didn't tell anyone and he made sure that he acted as normal as possible at school before he got his prescriptions.

Blaine didn't know but Broadway Spirit did.

They must be separate people but that didn't make Kurt feel any better. Was Broadway Spirit someone that was secretly spying on him?

Kurt jerked suddenly and nearly dunked his injured hand in the hot water. "Shoot!" He was trying to keep his wrist dry for the most part.

"Blaine." He muttered rubbing his forehead. At almost eighteen years old, he was too young to get wrinkles from stress; he did follow a fairly rigorous skin moisturizing regime.

How did he feel about Blaine? Kurt wasn't entirely sure about what to think about. There were moments when he was with the boy where he had this look in his eyes that made Kurt feel uncomfortable. The love and adoration Blaine had during his unguarded moments was nice.

Nice? Kurt blinked and sat up in the tub abruptly. The thought was a weird. It made his stomach roll in an unpleasant way yet made him smile and not in a good way.

He should make things clear with Blaine. Just friends and nothing more.

Yet he couldn't help but think of his dad's words about being friends before realizing that there was a permanent connection: soul mates. It happened to his dad and mom so maybe it could happen with him?

He would have to wait a few more days until the infection cleared and he finished his medicine then his doctor could have a nice chat with him about whether his tattooing would heal or not.

There was a scary thought. What if the infection ruined his skin where the name wasn't readable? Then he would really be alone. Kurt swallowed and shivered despite the water's warmth.

He grabbed the blue loofah and lathered some of the liquid body wash and scrubbed all over with one hand. This was getting to be too much to think about. Kurt didn't want to grow old alone with his cat he was planning to get once he was established in either New York City or Paris (he'd consider London an option now).

"It'll be fine. It gets better." He muttered hanging the loofah to drip dry on the caddy straddling the tub's edge. Getting up was a slight challenge since he hated dripping water all over the floor. Every single time he had a bath, he took care not to shake water all over.

Nothing more shocking then stepping in a puddle of cold water with bare feet in the middle of the night on the way to use the toilet; been there done that several times.

"Dad?" Kurt dressed himself in his pajamas and had snipped off the old water damp bandages before donning his bath robe and heading downstairs.

"In the living room." Burt sat in his easy chair watching the news, the forecast called for a clear night sky on Halloween. "Was there something you wanted to say or…?" His dad watched him carefully.

"I'm just thinking about my soul mate's name. I don't have it yet." Kurt sat down and showed him his wrist. It was drying out a little before he wrapped it up with gauze and the lotion. "What if the name comes up distorted or half formed and I can't read what it says?"

"It looks fine from this angle. Keep up with the medication ointment and pills alright?" Burt examined his son's wrist carefully. "It doesn't look as painful but how does it feel right now?"

Kurt looked at it and gave a half-hearted nod. "It doesn't hurt that bad at this moment but when the medicine wears off, its dull throb, like a bruise."

Burt squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "We'll be seeing Doctor Fisher on Tuesday and we'll see what he says. Don't be too concerned. If it hurts or gets worse, then we'll see him sooner."

"It doesn't hurt as badly as Tuesday but…" Kurt grumbled.

"It's uncomfortable." Burt said immediately. "I can't do anything except tell you to keep up with the ointment and medicine."

He nodded and then yawned. "By the way, there's a Halloween party at the old Faurot house in a few days."

The man frowned and opened his mouth to dissuade his son. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea. You have homework and I know what kinds of things happen at parties." He scrunched his face up. "Plus your wrist."

Kurt nearly rolled his eyes, a gesture that wouldn't endear him to his dad and took a deep slow breath. "I'm meeting some friends from school there." It wasn't entirely a lie but the entire school was probably going to be there at some point during the night. "And I sorta promised that I'd see them there and I got my costume together."

"We'll see. Your health is more important than a party." Burt said flatly with some finality.

"I know. I just wanna wear my costume." Kurt didn't pout because he was almost eighteen and almost eighteen year olds didn't do that.

"Good night Kurt." Burt allowed a small smile to slip through his stern parent façade.

"Night Dad."

Kurt went to his room to re-wrap his wrist and brush his teeth. A little more persuading and Kurt was sure to get a 1 am curfew…

"I look amazing." Kurt readjusted the top hat he was wearing in the full length mirror he had in his room. A little more of that fake blood applied to his lips and straightened his shirt collar. He decided that he would wear one costume to school and the original and much cooler one to the party.

His dad had given him permission to go and Kurt promised to home in the house at the reasonable hour of 12:30 am. It wasn't the 1 am curfew he wanted but it was better than staying home and giving candy out to grade school kids.

"Kurt! You're going to miss breakfast." Burt yelled up the stairs startling Kurt from his admiration of his costume.

Halloween was the one day of the school year where McKinley students and faculty were allowed to dress in their costumes providing that they weren't offensive or illegal which meant no weapons, knives and the like.

Grabbing his books and double checking that his stupid Geography essay was in his binder, Kurt headed down to the kitchen where his dad was toasting some freezer waffles.

"I've gotta head to the shop early but call me when you get home and when you leave alright?" Burt pointed a finger at Kurt. "I expect hourly updates when you get to the party. No negotiations."

Kurt nodded meekly eating his waffle with one hand. "Yes Dad."

Burt seemed satisfied with his answer and went to gather his stuff for his day. He left a few minutes later calling out a 'see you later, Kurt!' and 'Don't forget to text me later tonight!'

Kurt checked his wrist and applied another layer of ointment before heading out to school.

The school day dragged on and Kurt and pretty much everyone was anxious to get out of class. In fact, Kurt had to pretend not to see Puck and his girlfriend Lauren Zizes sneaking out through a first floor window. How they managed not to get caught while sprinting across the lawn to the parking lot was beyond Kurt's understanding but if anyone asked, he didn't see them.

He was slightly disappointed that he didn't get to see Blaine all day except for a few flashes in the halls. Blaine had AP math and Geography and his regular English class today and even though they were both seniors, two days a week separated the lunch period by a half hour. It was kind of sucky but it had to be done because there were more sophomores and freshmen than there was space in the cafeteria.

Kurt lingered a little at the school building entrance in hopes of seeing Blaine only to receive a text from the boy saying he was heading home to rework his costume. Slightly disappointed, he walked quickly through the parking lot, barely avoiding a group of jocks including Karofsky and his buddy Azimio dressed up as fake Call of Duty characters complete with imitation weapons despite the items not being allowed.

The last thing Kurt needed was the idiots taunting him yet again about his face, his voice, the fact that he doesn't have a soul mate and probably wouldn't, his pasty complexion, the list went on and it was irritating, hurtful and tiring all at the same. If he wasn't shut down so often by Rachel he wouldn't have the thick skin and would probably contemplate hurting himself.

The thought still crossed his mind now and then.

Once he got home, he checked his messages and was pleased to find one from Broadway Spirit waiting for him in his inbox. 'I hope to see you tonight! – BS.'

Feeling giddy and ridiculous, Kurt went to the cupboard to make himself a quick sandwich before going to put the finishing touches on his costume.

He had forgone regular dress shoes, loafers reminded him too much of his uniform, and chose his black Doc Martens that reached just below his knee instead. The white shirt was hanging on a hanger along with the vest looped over the hook part. Thankfully they were relatively wrinkle free and he decided against ironing his trousers since he planned to tuck them into his boots anyway.

The only issue he had with the costume was figuring out how to hide the bandage around his wrist. With all the activity he was doing, tugging on his trousers and finding rubber bands to keep the cuffs around his socked feet, the healing skin was tugging uncomfortably.

Gloves, he decided rummaging through his drawer of gloves and scarves in his dresser in the corner of his room. He found a black pair of fingerless gloves and they were long enough to partially cover the bandage and he figured that it would be dark enough to not notice it too much.

The next hour passed quickly with Kurt taking his medicine and putting his fangs in. He looked suitably scary and after adding a light colored foundation and rimming his eyes in kohl black eyeliner he felt he was in the party mind set.

'Hey, I look forward to seeing you tonight!' Kurt texted to Broadway Spirit slipping a house key on a small silver chain that he clipped to one of his belt loops. He knew that his father would be staying awake until he got home; he was that sort of guy, but Kurt didn't want him to get out of bed just to let him in at 12:30 at night.

'I'm sure we will. –BS'.

Kurt shoved his phone in his back pocket after texting his dad to tell him he was going to leave for the party in about five minutes. He did one last once over in the mirror and satisfied, he headed out.

The old Faurot house was a huge Victorian mansion that was a good fifteen minute walk through Kurt's neighborhood to the old part of Lima. The mansion was considered a town landmark and because of the large banquet hall and ballroom it was often rented out. Luckily Kurt had his chance to go this year, last year he came down with the flu and while he looked scary, he felt terrible and had literally slept through his favorite Halloween movie: Hocus Pocus.

It wasn't quite evening but it would be getting dark quickly. Kurt could swear it felt like he was being followed but he attributed that to the weird trick or treating atmosphere.

Once he arrived at the party which he could hear from blocks away, he was amazed by the wall of sound that came blaring from building. He recognized a few people from McKinley who were sitting on benches screwed to the wraparound porch as he headed inside.

He was feeling a little nervous and loitered around the punch table where he was given the stink eye by one Sue Sylvester. Kurt immediately left for the outside porch only to scurry the other way holding his red plastic solo cup of diluted red punch and a napkin of cookies to the garden.

Not really hungry, he ended up breaking the cookies into crumbs and, regretting the action, dusted his hands off and found a bench in the neatly grown garden. Technically it wasn't off limits but he thought that the caretakers would prefer that it be closed off. It didn't stop him from glancing behind him and finding a bench to sit on.

With the hum and thrum of music (a Monster Mash remix was playing) easier on his ears, Kurt took out his phone, texted his dad once again saying he was at the party and was having fun. Rolling his shoulders, he honestly wasn't having fun, he had no one to dance with or even talk to.

"Hey!"

Kurt jerked out of his pity party for one and squinted in the darkness. "Blaine?"

The boy strode forward on the stone path and stood with his hands on his hips. "A vampire, Kurt?"

The boy stood up and with his boots that gave him an extra inch and a half, towered over Blaine. "It's a classic. Who are you supposed to be?"

Blaine stood with his arms out and turned slowly. "A super hero! I've got the cape, mask, logo and everything! I look awesome!"

Kurt grinned and could only shake his head at his friend. "It does look pretty good."

"You do too." Blaine said suddenly shy and turned red under his mask. "Did you want to go get something to drink?" He jerked a gloved hand at the house.

Silently, Kurt raised his red cup. "Oh, did you want a refill? Because I'm thirsty and I don't want to go alone." He pouted slightly and peered up at Kurt with hazel puppy dog eyes.

"You're just scared of Coach Sylvester." Kurt rolled his eyes and led the way back to the house.

"Coach Sylvester? She's here?" Blaine was surprised. He hadn't come face to face with the woman but from what he heard from classmates and in gym, she wasn't a person to cross. Luckily for him and Kurt, they had Coach Henry who was teaching his last year at McKinley.

"Yep, let's go get some punch!"

They got their drinks and Blaine insisted on getting some snacks, 'fortification for dancing! I can't have you passing out on me', and then dragged the taller boy to the dance floor.

Kurt wasn't much of a dancer and while Blaine had rhythm, he had a style all his own. It was kind of nice dancing with someone, to feel that connection and to look into their eyes and know they're the one for you…

He jerked back and gazed at Blaine with a strange feeling coming over him. This wasn't right. Kurt had planned to be just friends with Blaine and if there was something more, let it happen gradually.

"I need some air." Kurt pushed his way through the crowd, bumping into Santana dressed appropriately as a devil into her girlfriend Brittany. "Watch it Edward!"

"I'll come with you!" Blaine started after him and Kurt whirled around with a hand clutching the skull brooch at his neck. "No, I'll be just a moment, stay here!"

He hurried out into the night air, holding his breath as he passed through the double doors that led to the porch. If Blaine followed him he wasn't sure what he would blurt out something he'd be regretting later.

His phone was beeping and vibrating in his pants pocket so wiggling it out, he checked his messages.

Message from Dad:

'Hey Kurt, thanks for leaving me a message. I hope you're having a good time!'

Smiling slightly, Kurt quickly responded with a 'It's a good party, I might be home earlier than I thought.' He hit send and shoved his phone into his back pocket. "Kurt?"

"Blaine?" Kurt looked up and saw the costumed boy in front of him. He patted the stone bench he was perched on and Blaine sat on the other end gingerly.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry Blaine."

They spoke at the same time and Kurt turned away and then back again. "You go first." Blaine said quickly before they could speak at the same time again.

Kurt sighed and fiddled with his brooch at his neck. "I'm sorry about giving you the brush off." He began still not looking at the boy, and feeling his stomach rolling uncomfortably. "I'm dealing with some personal issues and…"

Blaine was silent as Kurt tried to find the words to explain his actions. "It's not you, Blaine, honestly."

"But somehow I think it might be." Blaine said sounding sad. "Have I done something to make you uncomfortable or am I…?"

"No!" Kurt cried as he reached for Blaine's arm. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm at a point where I'm really confused about some things and I need to figure them out."

"Are we not friends?" Blaine asked quietly. "If you need to talk- "

"No, I just need some time to think about some stuff and my life outside of school is a little crazy." Kurt explained hoping that Blaine could understand him.

"I see." Blaine replied looking at his gloved hands. "We're friends but not for a moment? Outside of school? But in class we're friends?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Kurt said too quickly. "I think that we should take a break from outside stuff. At least for a while."

"I see." Blaine pulled off his gloves. "I'll see you at school on Monday." The boy stood up and walked away, carrying his gloves in one hand.

Blaine, he tried to make his tongue work but the stupid thing wouldn't listen. Kurt watched as his friend walked down the stone path to the house where the party was still happening and guests were oblivious to the uncomfortable arrangement that had been made.

Kurt sat there even after Blaine was out of sight feeling like the worst person in the world. He needed to figure out what was what with his life. Rolling his shoulders, sat hunched over and trembled in the cool air.

He wanted to go home.

How sad.

By the way, this is a Kurt/Blaine centered story and they'll eventually be an official couple. If you want Blaine or Kurt to coupled with a different character (Canon or original) this isn't the right story for you and perhaps check out a different set of characters?