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Kurt turned the key on the lock and opened the door. He was immediately drowned in the familiar scents of the garage: motor oil, leather, rubber, the rust of old tools. It hit him like a freight train, and just like with everything else, it made him miss his Dad so much his chest hurt.

It had been a while since he had come here. He vaguely remembered coming over to help his Dad during one of his summer breaks, fresh back from New York, and how small everything had looked in comparison with the blinding city.

Less vaguely, he remembered his childhood, spent here and in his Dad's office, playing amongst cars, helping his Dad with the easiest tasks, doing his homework at his desk. He remembered the friendless years, when he was too scared of coming out, when everyone at school knew anyway, when he was shoved and sneered at on a daily basis, and how he always found refuge here, watching his Dad work, reading magazines behind the counter and pretending nothing ever affected him.

He remembered working here during the summers, helping his Dad and saving money for whatever new fashion trend he was obsessed with. He remembered Finn, oil-stained overall, watching Burt teach him the ropes of the business with wide eyes, like he couldn't believe he would take the time to teach some dumb kid this. He remembered seeing Finn realize that hey, he wasn't some dumb kid, he was Burt's son, just like Kurt, in every way except in blood.

His footsteps echoed in the empty garage. It was early, and most of the employees wouldn't get here for another thirty minutes, at least. He knew Tony had been managing everything the past few months, when his Dad wasn't well enough to work. It must have killed Burt to sit behind a desk and let his lifelong work on someone else's hands.

Kurt went into the office, opened the window to let in some breeze, and sat behind the desk. The computer was old (he'd told his Dad to replace it a million times, but Burt never listened), and there were stacks of papers in no logical order all over the wooden surface. Invoices, budgets, lists of parts…

He held onto the armrests a little tighter than necessary. Not that long ago, after his Dad had been in the hospital during the last summer, Kurt had been scared of not being able to get a job, of not being able to afford college, of not being able to help out with hospital bills. He had been scared that he would have to give up New York and come back, work here at the garage, help his parents get back on their feet.

What a silly fear that had been. What he should have been scared of all along was losing his father.

What did it matter if he got stuck in Ohio, as long as his Dad was alive and well? He would have stayed here forever, if it meant he had him right by his side.

And now… now he was in Ohio, but there was nothing but emptiness around him. All he had left were the memories, and this old garage.

The sign out front said Hummel and Sons, tires and lube. How despairing it was to think that, of the three people that sign referenced, there was only one left.

It had been a while since Max had been in such a foul mood.

Blaine looked apologetically at the woman sitting across from him and bounced Max a little on his knee. "I'm sorry. He's very weary of strangers. That's why it makes it a little hard to find a good match for him."

"I understand," she said. Blaine glanced briefly at the résumé in front of him to check her name again. Rebecca. He had interviewed so many people already that they all got confused in his head. "Maybe if I hold him and show him I'm no threat?" She proposed.

Blaine didn't really think that was a good idea, but he didn't want to be rude. And, deep down inside, he was hoping for a miracle. He lifted Max and tried to pass him over to her. Max kicked and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, screaming like he was being murdered.

Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry, again. I don't think this is gonna work out."

Most of his interviews ended with that same phrase. Nothing seemed to be working out. But he knew he needed to find a new nanny for Max, because whatever happened, Kurt couldn't keep working for him.

Whatever happened. Blaine closed his eyes bitterly. There were two options: Kurt couldn't keep working for him because they were together and it was too weird, or Kurt couldn't keep working for him because he decided to stay in Ohio, and neither he nor Max would ever see him again.

When Blaine had come back to New York a couple of weeks ago, he had truly believed that what Kurt needed was some time, to put his family affairs in order, help Carole, and get some closure. But now he wasn't so sure. They had exchanged a few texts, and everything Kurt said seemed to make it more and more obvious that he was settling down there. He had begun going to the garage, and instead of making it sound like he was getting ready to sell it or choose someone who could manage it for the family, it seemed like he was taking charge.

Blaine's heart broke every time he thought about it, but he knew he couldn't ask Kurt to do anything differently. He knew he needed to let Kurt do whatever was best for him. Even if it meant they never got to be together again.

"Max, I need you to be a little more flexible here," Blaine told him when Rebecca was gone. Max sat on the floor and looked up at him reproachfully. "We need to find you a new nanny. I know no one's going to be as perfect as Kurt, but…"

"Bad Baine," Max said, his little fists angrily at his sides. "I want Urt."

That was Max's first complete sentence. I want Kurt.

Blaine felt increasingly tired. He leaned against the closed door and looked at his nephew, feeling helpless. "Me too, buddy. Me too."

Twirling spaghetti absently, Kurt studied Carole's face quickly. "How are you doing?"

Carole gave him a little smile. "I've told you, Kurt, I'm fine." She poured some lemonade for the both of them. "What about you? You look tired. Maybe you shouldn't go to the garage tomorrow. You can stay home, rest a little."

Kurt shook his head, as his phone buzzed on the table, next to his plate. "We're understaffed. I hadn't realized how many people Dad had to let go the past couple of years. Tony can't handle everything by himself. And the office is a mess, none of the paperwork makes sense. I'm refiling everything."

It was a text from Blaine: You won't ever guess who came for an interview today.

"Still, I think you deserve to take a day off," Carole insisted. She glanced at Kurt's phone, and then back at his face. "Have you talked to Blaine lately?"

Kurt typed a reply: Who? Then put his phone down and reached for his fork again. "I'm texting him right now."

"How is he doing? Will he be coming back soon? Or are you going back to New York?" She asked.

"He's good, busy. He's interviewing new nannies for Max, and I don't envy him. Max doesn't seem to like any of the candidates so far," Kurt explained, but didn't answer the last two questions. Carole didn't miss that.

"You told us a while ago that you wanted to find a new job next Fall," she said. "Have you started looking?"

"No," he said. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

His phone buzzed again: Remember your good friend Noah?

Kurt frowned, and replied: Really? I thought he had been with the same family for years. Did Max like him?

Carole leaned over the table to get a good look at him. "Kurt. What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled. Blaine's new text said: He didn't particularly like him, no. But you should have seen the look on Noah's face when I opened the door and he saw me. What did you tell him about me?

The truth, Kurt typed.

"I mean putting your life on hold," Carole said, looking concerned. "Don't think I haven't realized that you keep avoiding answering anything about what you will do next semester. Blaine didn't look like he wanted to leave, and now you won't tell me if he'll be back. And it looks like you're treating things at the garage a little bit too permanently. What is going on?"

"Would it be that bad?" Kurt murmured. She seemed confused. "I mean, if I stayed. If I took over the garage. Dad always dreamed of leaving it to me. When I started talking about New York, he didn't mention it again, and then he talked about leaving it to Finn. I'm the only one left."

"Oh Kurt," Carole sighed sadly. "Honey, you can't stay here. Your whole life is in New York. Lima would eat at you, waste you away. You know this is not where you can find your happiness."

"I'm not going to throw away Dad's hard work. Do you know how much he had to sacrifice for that garage? When he first opened it, he had just married my Mom…"

"I'm not saying you need to throw it away," Carole said gently, patting his hand. "But he would be so upset if he knew you're sacrificing yourself for it. He always knew how far you could go. He always knew you didn't belong here. No one expects you to stay and…"

"Please, I don't want to talk about it right now," Kurt said, eyes fixed on his plate, twirling and twirling spaghetti. He had no appetite.

It looked like Carole wanted to say something else, but then Kurt's phone buzzed again, and he had an excuse to pretend he didn't notice.

Blaine's text said: I miss you.

Kurt felt his chest tighten. He put the phone back on the table, screen facing down. He wanted to tell Blaine he missed him too, that he woke every morning and reached across the bed for him before he remembered they were miles apart. He wanted to tell him that he thought of him and Max constantly, but that he didn't know what to do. He felt divided, sad, and consumed.

He didn't want to leave Carole alone.

He didn't want to throw his Dad's legacy away.

He didn't want to lose the only connection to his Dad he had left.

He didn't want to lose Blaine or the future they could build together.

He didn't want to miss Max growing up.

He didn't want to go back to New York.

He didn't want to stay in Lima.

On the first anniversary of Cooper and Sara's death, it rained.

Blaine opened his eyes to a grey morning, a lightning brightening the sky for a moment, before the thunder made the walls of the apartment shake. He waited to see if it woke Max, but he didn't hear a sound from his bedroom. So he just stayed there, staring at the ceiling.

It felt like he had a hole in his stomach. For the past few days it had been becoming bigger and bigger, and now it seemed to have taken over his chest. He felt hollow, wrong, empty. He remembered the pain he had felt when he heard the news with the same intensity, as if months hadn't passed by, as if he was still standing at that hospital room door, being told he hadn't gotten there on time.

God, he needed Kurt.

He needed someone who could understand the despair of being too late. He needed someone who would put his arms around him and know exactly what he was going through.

But Kurt had been drifting away in the weeks since Burt's funeral. Sometimes he didn't even reply to Blaine's texts, and he avoided telling him what he was going to do. Blaine had no idea if he was staying in Lima until the semester started, or if he had done something wrong. Had he overstepped? He didn't know, and that was just as hard as the absence.

His body felt heavy, and for a moment, he considered just staying in bed all day. He knew he couldn't, though. Soon, Max would be waking up and asking for breakfast, demanding attention, asking him to play with him and put his favorite cartoons on TV. It would be a normal day for Max, even though a year ago he was losing the two most important people in his life. He didn't remember his parents, no matter how many times he grabbed pictures and pointed at them. They weren't more than paper faces he would never get to see out of the frames.

He didn't know how long he was there, just listening to the rain falling outside. It seemed like every single memory he had of Cooper ran through his head right then, so clear that it was almost like watching a movie. He could hear his brother's voice, watch him laugh and joke, as if it hadn't been a whole year since he had last talked to him. He remembered him so vividly, it seemed impossible to think he was dead.

Max woke up. He didn't usually wake up crying anymore, but calling for him. His little voiced carried through the apartment, and his uncle's name was the first thing he uttered in the morning. It usually warmed Blaine's heart to hear him, but not today. Today, he thought he should have been calling for someone else.

It was a normal morning, just like Blaine had expected it to be. Max didn't notice, not even once, that his uncle wasn't laughing, that he wasn't tickling him or humming as he made breakfast. He didn't notice something was wrong. But Blaine knew. Blaine couldn't help seeing all the things that would have been different if that accident hadn't happened.

He wouldn't have Max. He would be alone in this apartment, or maybe with Jason. Maybe their relationship would have progressed after going to Greece. Or maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe he would have met Daniel, introduced to him by Sam, and that would have gone differently. He knew for sure he wouldn't have started dating Kurt, because it had been Max who had brought them together.

It was difficult to think about this. He wanted Cooper back so badly, sometimes it felt like the need choke him. But Kurt was a huge part of his life. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Kurt, even if things weren't perfect right now. How unfair life could be, taking so much from him and giving him that much more, as if wanting to compensate Cooper's absence with Kurt.

But now Kurt wasn't there either.

There were a million things he needed to do today. The grocery shopping list held to the fridge's door by a magnet was getting longer and longer. He needed to make an appointment with Max's doctor for a check-up. There was a pile of laundry waiting for his attention. And yet, all these little mundane things seemed to require such a huge effort from him today, that, after breakfast, he just plopped down on the couch and watched as Max played with his toys.

It was almost noon when the phone rang. He grabbed it and his heart did a weird little shift in his chest when he saw it was Kurt calling. He hadn't called since Blaine had left Ohio.

As he accepted the call, he wondered if this was going to end in even more heartbreak. "Hello?"

"Hi, Blaine." Hearing Kurt's soft voice made his body react in a way he hadn't expected. He shivered, goose bumps appearing on his skin. His heart had gone from shifting to pumping against his chest at a rate that probably wasn't normal.

"Kurt," Blaine said, and hoped he didn't sound as pathetic as he felt. He was older than Kurt. He was supposed to have it all figured out. But logic didn't seem to apply to them – whenever Kurt was near him, Blaine couldn't even think properly. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Kurt replied, and Blaine wondered exactly how honest he was being. He could hear the unmistakable sounds of the garage in the background. "How are you?"

"Good," Blaine said automatically.

"Blaine…" Kurt whispered. "I remember what today is. How are you, really?"

Blaine's breath stuttered in an exhale. He hadn't expected Kurt to remember. He had probably only mentioned the date of Cooper and Sara's accident in passing, and yet Kurt remembered. "I… well, not good," he admitted after a few seconds. "I can't believe it's been a year."

"I'm sorry I'm not there for you and Max," Kurt said, and he sounded truly ashamed, as if dealing with his own loss instead of dropping everything to be there with Blaine made him the most selfish person in the world.

"Don't worry about it," Blaine reassured him. "Though I'm so glad to hear your voice."

"I know I've been…" Kurt sighed. "Quiet. I've been quiet lately, and I'm sorry if that's made things difficult for you. I just needed to think, and to take some time."

"Of course," Blaine said immediately. "I'm not mad or anything. I understand what you're going through, Kurt, more than anyone else could ever understand. I do miss you, though. And Max does too."

"I miss you both so much," Kurt said, and it sounded as if the words pained him on the way out. "But I can't leave Carole. I'm all she has left now. It's too soon."

Blaine nodded, even if Kurt couldn't see him. "It's okay. You don't need to justify what you're doing to me."

"Yes, I do. Because you and I…" Kurt paused, as if looking for the right way to say this. "We were building something together, and I just pushed you away out of nowhere. We haven't seen each other in weeks, and we barely talk, and that's all on me. It's not fair to you, Blaine."

"I just want you to do whatever you need to do to feel better," Blaine answered softly. "I don't care how long it takes, Kurt."

There was a small silence, and it seemed as if Kurt was trying to say something, but in the end, he just sighed, and said: "How's Max?"

"He's great," Blaine said, as he watched his nephew walk towards his toy box and search inside for something else to play with. "He asks me about you sometimes. Whenever he's mad at me for something, he says I want Kurt."

At first, Blaine thought Kurt was laughing. Then he realized the sound he heard was a choked sob.

"He really does that?" He asked, his voice shaky.

"He does," Blaine confirmed. The dark hole inside of him seemed to shrink considerably while he talked to Kurt. He didn't want the call to end. "And I'm having a really hard time finding someone he likes as much as he likes you. He's cried with every single person I've interviewed so far."

"Oh poor darling," Kurt said. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, remember Lola?" He said, referring to the little girl Max had befriended at the park a while ago. They met for play dates regularly now. "Her mom recommended the day care she takes Lola to. It's near campus, so it would be pretty convenient, and Max would be with someone he knows already. I have an appointment to check it out later this week. Hopefully it'll work out."

"That sounds fantastic," Kurt said. There was a voice on the other end, and Kurt's attention was suddenly away from the phone as he talked to whoever was there. "Hey, Blaine, I have to go. But… listen to me, okay? I know I'm not there, but you're not alone today. If you need to talk, call me. Whenever, just call me. And… I… I wish I could give you a hug right now. I bet you need one."

Blaine hadn't realized there were tears trailing down his cheeks until then. "I really do," he said with a sad little chuckle.

"I'm sorry I'm not there to give it to you," Kurt whispered. "And whatever you're thinking… I know you miss Cooper, but I hope you know he would be so proud of everything you have accomplished in the past year, despite how difficult things were."

For a moment, Blaine was invaded by the need to tell Kurt a million things: I love you. I need to see you. Max and I can be in Ohio tomorrow morning if you just say the word. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Instead, he only said: "Thank you."

Kurt said a quiet goodbye, and Blaine forced himself to let go of the phone, despite wanting to hold on to it as if that would bring him back.

Max walked towards him, and gave him a green truck. "Play?" He said, and Blaine couldn't resist him.

They played together for a while, until it was almost time for lunch. Blaine stood up to go towards the kitchen to fix something for Max, when he heard the distinctive sound of letters being slide under his door. He retrieved the mail on his way to the kitchen, and scanned them quickly, expecting only bills. Instead, he found something that made him stop in his tracks.

There was a letter from Burt Hummel.

He sat at the kitchen table and stared at the envelope incredulously. Why had Burt sent him a letter? And when had he sent it? He was almost scared to open it, holding it with careful fingers, as if it was about to explode.

He took a deep breath, and began to read.

Blaine,

Part of me hopes you'll never have to get this letter. I hid it for Carole to find in case anything happens to me, with instructions to send it to you when she does. Hopefully it won't take her too long to find it, because what I need to tell you is very important.

By now I'm sure you know Kurt almost as well as I do. He's caring and gentle and generous, in a way I don't think I ever was. He must have gotten all of it from his mother. He's taken more care of me, than I have taken care of him. Sometimes it was hard knowing who was the parent and who was the kid. But I guess that's what happens when you become acquainted with loss from such a young age.

Kurt's been hurt too regularly over the years. His life hasn't been as easy as I would have liked. I did everything I could to soften every blow, but I also always knew he's strong and determined. He's also incredibly stubborn, which he does take from me. I bet you know that, too. He'll keep you on your toes, and if you ever have arguments, good luck, because he can be vicious and sometimes even hurtful. He'll apologize later, if he was wrong, and you'll look at him and won't be able to stay mad, because who could ever be mad at my kid? He's the most wonderful kid in the world. He's always been.

If you let him, he will also make you happy. So happy, Blaine, you'll wonder what the hell you did to deserve him.

When he told me you two had gotten together, I was glad. I guess in other circumstances, fathers wouldn't be too excited about their kids dating their college professors. But I'm not most fathers, and he's not most kids. When Kurt wants something, when he does something, it's rarely for the wrong reason. He's always been too smart for his own good. He's had to mature faster than other kids, so I've always trusted him to know what was good for him and what wasn't. I didn't even have to teach him that. He just knew.

In the past few weeks, whenever I call him, he's happy. I can't remember the last time he was this happy. You learn to take the good and the bad and live with it, when you've been through as much as he has. I bet you understand that, too. So he's been okay over the years, but never this exultantly happy. You did that. You gave him that. I'm so grateful.

You already did so much for him, and yet I'm going to ask you to do one more thing.

If something happens to me, and eventually it will, no matter how much he denies it, he will need you.

Look, I know my kid, Blaine. We've been a pretty solid team for many years, and I'm lucky to be so close to him, when I know most parents don't have this kind of relationship with their kids. I know he'll be so upset that he will close himself off. I know he'll probably make a stupid decision, because the only time Kurt's making stupid decisions is when he's heartbroken.

What I'm trying to do here is ask you this: don't let him.

Don't let him sacrifice himself in any way for whatever happens to me. Don't let him throw away his happiness for something he couldn't have avoided.

I don't know you very well, but you have to be a pretty great man to have made Kurt so happy in such a short time. Please don't let him fall into a hole he won't be able to climb out of. He will need you, even if he doesn't say it. I'm putting the most precious thing I have in your hands, Blaine. Please. Don't turn your back on him.

Thank you for everything you have already done for him. You and Max. I hope I can be around long enough to get to know the two of you more, and to truly welcome you into our family.

Burt.

Blaine finished reading the letter and started it all over again. He read it three times, before he finally put it down on the kitchen table.

He had always known how much Burt Hummel treasured his son. But with this letter, he knew he hadn't even been close to the reality. He could only hope to be this close to Max one day, to understand him like no one else. Burt had respected and loved Kurt above everything else. And he was trusting Blaine to keep taking care of him.

What were the odds of this letter arriving to him today, of all days?

The hole inside of him seemed to shrink a bit more. He folded the letter carefully and looked up, as if expecting to find everything he needed right on the ceiling. But he was looking way past it, to something that wasn't really there, but he could still feel.

"I got the message, Coop, Mr. Hummel," he murmured quietly. "I got it."

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L.-