Stuck In Second Gear

Arrangements were made ridiculously fast. Robb had been understanding and agreed to have Blaine's understudy take over for about a week. The funeral itself would be very private, with the wake open. It was easy to forget sometimes what a formidable woman Nonna had been, and how many people had cared about her. Booking the flights was a bit of a headache and turned out a bit more expensive than he'd have liked. But then again, it wasn't like this was optional.

Lung cancer, already metastasized. She must have gotten the diagnosis only a short while before Christmas, with a very limited prognosis. She had declined therapy, and let nature run its course. In the end, it had been an embolism that killed her. At least this way, it was fast – definitely faster and kinder than prolonging her suffering with chemotherapy. It was certainly the better alternative. And still…

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said. She had been on her way to meet him to go over their duets again, but immediately switched gear once she heard the news. "Are you okay?"

"As well as I'll be," Blaine said, trying to smile.

"Were you close?" Rachel asked.

Blaine nodded, not sure how to put things in words. They had been closer when he was younger, but with the distance of living in New York, he hadn't seen nearly as much of her as he'd wanted. He should have known, though. After Christmas, he should have known.

"Do you need Jesse to talk to Robb to get you off for a few days?" Rachel asked. "He has quite a lot to say in their production firm by now, I'm sure he can help."

Blaine shook his head. "Robb's been great, it's all taken care off. The funeral's Friday. I want to fly back home tomorrow, but I have to get hold of Kurt first."

"He's meeting Jackie, something about Dracula," Rachel said. "Jesse thinks it's not the best idea, to be honest. But well… you know him. Though Jackie seems to like Kurt, so it shouldn't be a problem for his understudy to step in for a few days."

Blaine was about to answer when his phone rang. It was Kurt.

"I got your message, are you okay?" He sounded warm, caring, and for a moment Blaine wondered why that came as such a surprise.

"I'm mostly trying to focus on making arrangements," Blaine said. "It's all just been… really fast. I know, it's really last minute, but I'd like to fly back tomorrow. Have some time with my family before the funeral. Robb gave me a few days off. Could you clear with Jackie what's possible, so I can book our flights?"

There was a pause. "Flights?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm definitely in no shape to drive back to Ohio," Blaine said. "It won't be cheap, but there are still some semi-affordable ones around noon."

"Just wait a second," Kurt said. "I can't just leave on such a short notice. Jackie's considering who to cast in Dracula. I can't look unreliable right now."

Blaine blinked, not sure he understood completely what was going on. And then, suddenly, he did.

"You're not coming with me?" he asked.

Rachel stared at him, her eyes widening. Maybe he should be shocked. To be honest, though, he didn't feel much of anything.

"I… that's not… look, I can't just drop everything with no notice," Kurt said. "Can we talk about this first?"

"What is there to talk about?" Blaine asked. "I'm going home to bury my grandmother. If that doesn't seem important enough for you- "

"That's not it! But you can't just spring this on me," Kurt protested.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I had any warning," Blaine bit back. Although he kind of had. But what did it matter now? He didn't want to think about it further. And he definitely didn't want to argue anymore. "It's fine. I'll just book flights for myself."

"You're being unfair!"

"Whatever," Blaine replied. "I'll see you later." He ended the call without awaiting an answer, letting his phone drop to the table. He had managed to keep his voice calm, but now he started to feel colder.

"What… did I hear that right?" Rachel asked. "Won't Jackie let him take some time off?"

"It doesn't matter," Blaine said. "I'm going alone."

"That's… no, don't!" Rachel looked at him with a pained expression. "Let me talk to him, I'm sure he'll see reason."

"Don't," Blaine said. He felt ridiculously tired, and as if he should want to cry. But his eyes remained dry.

"I'm sure he was just surprised," Rachel said.

"Doesn't matter," Blaine replied. "If he doesn't want to come with me… well, then maybe I don't want him there."

"But- "

"If it was Jesse's family… wouldn't you go with him?" Blaine asked.

Rachel was clearly flustered. "Well, that's not a fair comparison, Jesse's family is really messed up."

Blaine sighed. "Mine isn't. This is important to me. And Rachel… I'm tired. I'm so tired of screaming all the time just to be heard. And even when he hears me, he doesn't listen. So no, I won't drag him back to Ohio. I don't have the strength right now."

Rachel was looking at him, clearly distraught. "I don't think he understands," she said softly.

"It doesn't matter," Blaine said. "Do you mind… I think I'd like to be alone right now."

She wasn't happy, but at least she was going to respect his wishes. As the door closed behind her, Blaine wrapped himself up in a blanket. He knew he should book a flight now, before they got even more expensive. But it was true what he said. He felt just tired. So for now, he just sat down, doing nothing, waiting for the tears that wouldn't come.

Maybe Rachel had talked to him, or maybe she hadn't. Either way, the next day Kurt was on the plane with him.

"It's not that I don't want to support you," he had said once he arrived at the loft yesterday. "You just caught me by surprise."

Blaine remembered the decision he had made, to make their marriage work. He knew he should be more charitable and just accept his words. And really, all Kurt had needed was a moment to think things through before agreeing to be there for him. But he was just too tired. He didn't even feel disappointed, or relieved, or… anything. He just wished it was over already.

His mother was distraught. Apparently even she hadn't known about the cancer and was completely blindsided. It was nice to see the way his father was around her, quietly supportive, as if he just understood whatever she needed. Blaine had had doubts about their marriage, and the reasons they stayed together – most of the time he was sure his father didn't understand either his wife or his sons – but in this time of crisis, he understood. And still, he felt… removed. Kurt was hovering beside him, almost but not quite touching. At dinner, there wasn't much talk. His father was quiet as always, and his mother, usually the heart of the conversation, was too preoccupied not to start crying. Even Cooper seemed not to know what to do or say, which probably was a first. Blaine wasn't even sure what he expected – that Cooper would start rambling about his show, or that shampoo commercial he'd gotten, bring in some sense of normalcy. Then again, this wasn't a normal situation. Or maybe he had just missed that his brother had grown up too.

As they were getting ready for the funeral, Blaine found himself standing in front of the mirror, staring. It was weird that he could see nothing strange in his reflection. He seemed put together, all in black, his curls gelled down to the point that not a single hair could even consider falling out of place. Nothing about this image reflected how lost he felt, how hollow. He didn't even know why he dreaded going to the funeral. Nonna was dead already, this wouldn't make it more real. It was a good thing that she had at least some choice, hadn't suffered for a long time. Really, as far as deaths went, this wasn't such a bad option. Still…

"Not bad."

He turned around to find Cooper standing in the door, watching him thoughtfully. After a moment of hesitation, he walked up closer.

"So… are you okay?"

Blaine shrugged. "I'm fine," he said. It sounded completely hollow even to himself, and he didn't need to look up to realize that his brother wasn't being convinced in the least.

With a sigh, Cooper stepped beside him, looking him over. He hesitated again, before holding out his hand. In it, he held the dark fabric of a bow tie.

Blaine frowned, taking it. It was soft, probably silk. At closer look, he noticed thin stripes of dark emerald between the black.

"Sebastian asked me to give this to you," Cooper said softly. "It's from Venice, apparently the same quarter Nonna grew up in. If you want it?"

Blaine stroked the fabric, wondering. The color was dark enough to not seem garish. Still, green, the color of hope. Slightly woven into the dark fabric, it seemed symbolic. Thoughtful, although that shouldn't be a surprise. For a moment, he found himself wishing Sebastian was here. A token was better than nothing, though.

"Thank you," he said softly, as he reached up to loosen the black bow tie he was already wearing.

Cooper stayed beside him as he tied the Italian fabric. He checked himself in the mirror, before turning to his brother. "Okay?"

Cooper smiled, even though Blaine could see the pain behind his eyes. "Perfect."

The funeral was… fine, really. The stories he heard weren't completely new, and the eulogy was certainly respectful. It still felt like they were talking about a stranger. He watched his family. His mother's tears, his father's quiet support, his brother's helplessness… and he didn't know what to feel. He would miss her. How could he not? It had been so sudden that he still hadn't fully realized it. But she had been sick. She had been dying. This was the kinder option. Shouldn't he feel better that she didn't have to suffer? Or was that too callous?

The wake seemed even harder to him. Everyone around him seemed to have their emotions figured out. Blaine felt like he was drifting on the sea. With every person coming up to him to express their condolences, and with every sad smile, and nod, and thank you, he felt more detached. Who were these people anyway? He probably knew less than half the people present. Then again, he didn't find much comfort in the people he did know…

"I didn't expect there to be this many people…"

Blaine looked up to see his brother had stepped towards them.

"She must have made quite the impact," Kurt said. He had an arm around Blaine's waist. It didn't draw many looks, and Blaine felt uncomfortable about the few it did. It wasn't fair, of course. All Kurt wanted was to show support and comfort, to hell with any bigots. The thing was… to Blaine, it felt less like comfort, and more like Kurt was clinging to him in the presence of the family he'd never quite connected with.

Cooper was looking at him, clearly concerned. Blaine shook his head slightly, as if to tell him things were fine. The tiniest of eyerolls told him that Cooper wasn't buying it for a second.

"You've met Nonna a few times, didn't you?" Cooper asked, looking at Kurt.

"I did," Kurt said. "I honestly never felt like she was too impressed with me."

Cooper chuckled. "Don't worry about it. She wasn't easily impressed with… well, anyone. She was always special. I heard some of Mom's stories. Did you know she's originally from Venice?"

Kurt was listening intently as Cooper went into a "best of" of Nonna's life stories, and Blaine… he just couldn't stand it. These were stories their mother had told them a dozen times growing up, the only difference was that now they weren't attached to a warm, living person – all that was left were the stories.

"Excuse me for a moment," Blaine said softly.

Cooper nodded, barely noticing him. Kurt gave him a smile, but also seemed easily absorbed into the stories. Who could blame him? They were pretty interesting. Blaine only needed a moment for himself.

He withdrew to the kitchen, pretending to check on the coffee. He had thought it would help to be alone for a moment, not to have to wear whatever mask he kept on right now. But he could still hear people talking outside. He felt crowded, the buzzing of noise outside rising up like a nest of hornets.

It wasn't the first time that he had felt like this, probably wouldn't be the last. But he couldn't break down, not now, not in the middle of Nonna's wake. She would have wanted him to stay strong, wouldn't she? She had been strong until the end, dealing with everything on her own, not burdening anyone else. And he couldn't make this day harder on his mother. There was a tingling in his fingers, slowly rising.

He was going to break down, wasn't he? It hadn't been this bad since the Dalton memorial, and back then it had taken Sebastian to pull him out of it…

The kitchen door opened, and someone stepped inside. Blaine closed his eyes, not ready to deal with anyone right now. He wished whoever it was would just grab whatever they needed and leave him. Instead, the steps came closer, and then a hand closed around his arm.

"Oh, sweetheart, come here."

He turned around at the sound of his mother's voice. She only had to take one look at him to understand what was going on and pulled him into a hug. He returned it, hiding his face against her shoulder. He hated himself for making this day more difficult for her, felt like he had to explain himself.

"I'm sorry. It's just… all these people…" He stopped, unable to formulate just what was going on in his mind.

But maybe his mom understood. With a sigh, she softly pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. "Sweetheart, if it's too much for you… I don't think anyone will have a problem, if you sneak away to your piano for a bit."

"But Mom… everyone here…"

She sighed. "They have enough people to talk to, believe me. If I could, I'd sneak away myself." As she noticed his hesitation, she smiled. "Go on. Play a song for her."

It was surprisingly easy to make his way to the stairs and up to the piano room. It looked the same as always, as if nobody had been here since the last time he'd been home. He knew it wasn't true, of course, at least the tuner must have been here, but he appreciated the care his mother put into upholding this impression.

He rested his hands on the keys, closing his eyes. He tried to think of something… meaningful, something special. Something his Nonna would have liked. As he sat there, trying to think of the right melodies, he felt trapped. He'd thought he'd feel better away from all those peoples, like that tension underneath his skin could dissolve if he was on his own. But now, that he was, he realized that the people around him had never been the problem. How was he supposed to escape a problem when it was from within his own mind? Even his mother hadn't been able to dispel that lump in his throat, the subtle way it had become harder to breathe.

It shouldn't be like this. After all, he wasn't a child anymore. This was undeniably harder on his mother than him. He had no right to put himself into the center of anything. His family had enough things to concern themselves with, dealing with the loss as well as organizing and hosting everything else. Maybe this was a job for a husband, but Kurt's track record on talking him down from an edge had always been more miss than hit.

Again, his thoughts returned to the day of the Dalton memorial. Sebastian had been able to calm him down, ground him again. But Sebastian was in Los Angeles, hours away even if he randomly got onto a plane this moment. Not that that was even an option.

But there were options. He closed his eyes, pondering the idea that had just come to him. Really, though, what harm would it do?

His hands were barely shaking as he took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts for Sebastian's number. He breathed carefully – four seconds out, two seconds pause, four seconds in, and again, and again, waiting…

And then, finally…

"Hey…"

Blaine released his breath at the sound of Sebastian's voice. Strange, how this alone seemed to be enough to take some pressure off his chest.

"Hi…" he said, surprised at how steady the word came out. "Sorry for calling out of the blue."
"No, I should have called you," Sebastian replied. "I just… I figured you have enough on your plate right now. I'm really sorry about your grandmother. She was pretty impressive."

"You met her once," Blaine said.

"Twice," Sebastian said.

Blaine nodded, then realized that his friend couldn't see him. For a moment, silence settled between them. This was probably the point where he was supposed to say why he was calling. Still, the words somehow escaped him.

"So… what are you doing?" he asked instead.

Sebastian chuckled. "Drinking coffee," he said. "I had an exam earlier, but it was fine."

"Oh, that's… that's good," Blaine said.

"That's not why you're calling though," Sebastian said. Of course, even from the other end of the country he managed to see right through him. "So… how are you holding up?"

Blaine closed his eyes. It wasn't really a new question. Enough people had asked him if he was okay. But then again, it had always been that same question. Are you okay? A yes or no question, leaving no space for explaining this mess of thoughts and fears swirling around in his head. Yes or no, way too simple.

"I really don't know," he said.

"Okay…?" Sebastian's voice rose up at the end of the sentence, leaving space to elaborate, expand.

And suddenly, all those thoughts came spilling out. How it hurt that she was gone. How it hurt even more that she had known and hadn't told them, hadn't given them a chance to prepare, except for some cryptic words. How he treasured that goodbye more than anything, even if he hadn't understood what it meant. How he was so fucking grateful that she wouldn't have to suffer through chemotherapy, only to die an awful, painful, wasting death anyway. How this was what she would have wanted, actually was what she'd chosen. About the guilt he felt for even thinking this, because this was his grandmother, and she was dead, and how the hell could that ever be considered a positive thing?

He wasn't even sure how long he'd been talking by the time he ran out of steam, but eventually, he couldn't think of anything else. Only then did he realize the tears in his face. But breathing was easier, and his hand wasn't shaking. Somewhere, in a remote part of his brain, he wondered what Sebastian would think of him, and the tirade he'd just unleashed. To his own surprise, he realized he wasn't worried.

After another moment of silence, Sebastian spoke.

"You're kind of a mess, hm?"

Blaine laughed, and for the first time in days, it felt real, and free. "I really am," he admitted.

"It's okay, though. You know that, right?"

Blaine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I know it's hard to lose someone," Sebastian said. "It's always sad. But sometimes, when you consider the alternative…" He sighed. "I'm just saying, it can be sad and okay at the same time."

Blaine closed his eyes. Was that all he needed to hear? That it was okay to feel conflicted, and hurt, and relieved, and a whole mess of emotions? How was something so simple enough to calm down the storm inside his mind?

"Feeling better?"

Blaine smiled. "I actually do. Thank you."

He could hear the smile through the phone when his friend spoke again.

"Anytime, killer."

It was ridiculous how fast his life returned to normal. Before he knew it, they were back in New York, and he was once more becoming Tony on stage. But even though everything seemed weirdly familiar, something was different.

With the success of Westside Story, Robb was moving on to new projects, Jesse now a firm part of the team. Blaine hadn't heard anything particular, but he could tell that the show's run was coming to a close. He didn't know yet what Robb and Jesse were going to produce next, or whether he would audition, although he was certain that they'd want Rachel as their female lead. They would be stupid not to use her talent. With the success of Westside Story, he probably didn't have bad chances to continue with them. It would be something familiar.

And still, he could feel it in the air. Change. Something was coming.

Did he really want to stay with their production company? Or was it time to do something else?

The thought wouldn't leave him lately. Maybe it was a natural reaction to having a family member die, to wonder what to do with his life, or what he wanted from his future. What was he going to leave behind? What was he going to do ten years from now? Did he want stardom? A family? Happiness? What even was that?

Whatever his future would hold, he at least wouldn't have to be worried anytime soon.

He had always low-key assumed he had been Nonna's favorite. It was beyond strange to have this feeling confirmed by the numbers in his bank account. He knew it wasn't an actual fortune. But for a fledgling Broadway actor basically just out of college – it kind of was. He waited until everything had been taken care of, before he even mentioned the inheritance, let alone speak of numbers.

Kurt stared at him, his mouth falling open like a fish out of water.

"So… I guess we're going to be financially secure for now," Blaine said.

Kurt blinked. "Well… yeah. We could say we are. Have you thought about it, though?"

"What do you mean?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's just… this is a lot of money. But you know how bills stack up, and if you just use it for everyday expenses, it'll just disappear like it never existed. Maybe it would be a better idea to… well, to use it for something special. Or save it until there is something special to use it on."

Blaine nodded. "I've been thinking about this too," he said. "I just don't know what we could use it on yet. It should be something… important."

"Let's save it then, until you know."

That had settled it for the moment. There was no rush to figure out what to do with the money. He would figure it out, eventually. He knew the decision would come with others, with the question of what he really wanted from his life and what happiness meant to him. All of those were questions he knew he wasn't ready to answer yet. He was fine putting it off for now.

And then, the question was suddenly back on the table again. One afternoon, Blaine came back with groceries, only to find Kurt and Rachel at their table, their heads put together over Kurt's laptop, bridal magazines discarded all over the place. Blaine told himself not to feel bitter about this. He had thought hearing about their engagement first had been a sign that he and Rachel had gotten closer, but once the wedding planning had started, she had fallen right back into her old BFF relationship. Rachel had decided to have a best man instead a maid of honor, not that anyone had been completely surprised with this. Ever since, the two of them had spent more time together, talking about music, decorations, dresses and a million things that Blaine couldn't listen to without being reminded that they had gotten married in a barn. It also made Blaine wonder how often he'd fall for that trick, to think he could be at least as important to them, only to be discarded once they rediscovered each other again. Most of his college friends had left New York, and by now he found himself once more in the situation that all his friends – at least the ones he saw regularly – were Kurt's first.

Except for Sebastian.

"You're here!" Kurt exclaimed, once he closed the door behind him.

"Oh, you have to look at this!" Rachel said, beaming at him. "Kurt had the most amazing idea!"

"What about?" Blaine asked, as he started to put away the groceries. "Venue?" At least he thought it was the latest issue they had been trying to solve.

"No, not about the wedding," Rachel said.

"I know what to do with the money," Kurt said.

Blaine frowned. "You mean… the money Nonna left me?"

"Do we have another fortune hidden away somewhere?" Kurt asked.

Somehow, the sarcasm didn't sit well with Blaine. He took out a glass and filled it with water, if only to win some time. "I thought we weren't going to do anything until I figure out what I want to do with it," he said, slowly approaching them, careful to stress the "I". But Kurt looked at him clearly thrilled with himself, so he finally gave in and walked over, sitting down with them.

Kurt turned around the laptop. There was a document open, the top of which showed a poster depicting the title of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.

"I don't understand," Blaine said, frowning.

"What would you say to an LGBT+ adaptation of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

"I… don't know," Blaine said. "How exactly would that go? Is it still the same story, just genderswapped characters?"

Kurt huffed. "It's still a concept. I've been talking to a producer friend of Jackie's that I met on the tour, George, and as we were talking, we suddenly came up with that idea. It sounded like a good project, but we didn't have an idea on where to get the money. And well, now we do. It's perfect timing, too. You said yourself, West Side Story is coming to an end, and so's Dorian Gray. Unfortunately, Dracula has hit a bit of a roadblock, so who knows how long that might take… So, why not do our own project? It's all we wanted. It's a great story, we'll add representation, I can do the writing and get practice there, and we can use our money for something great."

"Wait, are you planning to fund this whole thing on Nonna's inheritance?" Blaine asked.

"Well, yes, George won't be able to add much to the funds, although he has tons of connections that will be really helpful. I figured this way, your grandmother can help build our future. Isn't that something she would have wanted?" Kurt asked.

Blaine remembered their last conversation, and all other conversations they had before. She had supported him being an actor, but she had also always hinted of finding something more lasting.

"I don't think it is," he said. "I don't know… it doesn't sound like such a smart idea, Kurt."

"Why not?"

"You've never actually written a play, for a start," Blaine said.

"I wrote Pip Pip Horray," Kurt protested.

"I'm sorry, you wrote what?" Rachel asked, frowning.

Blaine sighed. "I'm just saying, there's a reason you never showed that to anyone but me."

"What, you think I can't write a play?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know, that's the whole point. I don't want to risk the last thing I have from my Nonna on something that could blow up in our faces, or something she wouldn't even be in support of."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That she certainly didn't want me to risk throwing it all away. She wanted me to make sure I have a future. Like education, or family, or something like that!"

"Like a child?" Rachel asked.

Blaine stared at her, surprised by her interjection. He hadn't precisely thought about children, not at this point in their lives. Still… it sounded a lot more like something Nonna would have supported. "Something like that," he said, eventually. "But not this."

"You don't believe in me," Kurt said.

Blaine stared at him, and his first instinct was to defend himself. That of course he believed in Kurt, but that this was something too personal, that he just wasn't okay with. But Kurt wouldn't care about what Nonna wanted for him. He suddenly remembered just too easily how Kurt's first reaction had been to protest why he couldn't come to the funeral, not to be there for him. He remembered being tired, so tired. And before he made a conscious choice to do so, he found himself speaking.

"In this case? No. I'm sorry, I can't. I'm not okay with this."

Kurt stood up, his shoulders drawn up and defensive, his face hurt, and still behind shields that had become just too familiar. At some point, Blaine would have sympathized with him, felt the same pain. Now, he just once more realized how exhausted he was.

"I don't understand. You're not happy when I'm working with Jackie, but when I try something else, you're not on board either."

"I don't care about Jackie, I'm appalled you decide to keep working with Glenn," Blaine replied. "And I would support you if you gave me something sensible to support. This is just a half-cocked idea. You can't honestly expect me to sink Nonna's money into this, not when this is definitely not what she would have wanted. So sorry, Kurt. The answer is no. I have no problem with you working on this, or writing for this play, or maybe starring in it, I don't know. But I'm not going to finance it with her money. I'm sorry."

"But Blaine- "

"Sorry, I think I forgot something at the store," he said. He didn't. But in a place that didn't allow for any privacy, he wasn't sure what else he was to do instead leave altogether. At least he stopped himself from slamming the door.

He hadn't even made it to the ground floor until he realized he forgot his keys. For a moment he wanted to keep going and leave it there, but he wouldn't be surprised if these two would go off on some wedding business and he'd be locked out. He turned and climbed back up. He quietly opened the door, quickly finding the key on a sideboard. He was ready to ignore any questions about his return, only to realize that he hadn't even been noticed. The duo seemed quite preoccupied with each other.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt said.

"I'm sorry, were you not listening?" Rachel asked. "I'm talking about Blaine!"

Snooping in on conversations wasn't the polite thing to do. It also held the risk of hearing things one really didn't want to hear. Blaine knew all that, but still, he pulled the door almost closed and stayed.

"Look, he'll get over it once he has some time to think it through," Kurt said. "That's how we work, it's always like this. This was barely a fight."

"It wasn't a fight," Rachel said. "Don't you realize this is a bad thing?"

"Since when is not fighting bad?" Kurt asked, the skepticism dripping from every word.

"Can't you see? He's stopped fighting. How can you possibly imagine that to be a good thing? I've seen you two over the years. Blaine always fought for you, did you never notice? And now he's… not."

"What was there to fight here?" Kurt asked.

"Not just here. Remember when his grandmother died, and you didn't want to go with him?"

"I went with him!" Kurt protested.

"But your first reaction was to tell him no. And Blaine… he just let it go. He wouldn't even fight to have you with him. That's resignation. That's… that's poison for a relationship, Kurt."

Resignation… Blaine hadn't quite thought of it that way, more about feeling tired. But in the end, it came down to the same thing. What was the point of fighting, if he was the only one doing it? If he was the only one who even realized there was a fight going on?

Kurt didn't seem to see it that way, as he kept talking. "You're ridiculous. Look, I was caught off guard. But I went with him. I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this. So, we don't see eye to eye all the time. We've been married for more than three years, the honeymoon goggles don't stay on forever. You'll figure this out eventually. You're not an expert on relationships after being engaged for like two seconds."

"Don't go attacking me, Kurt Hummel! All I'm saying is you have to be careful. If you don't knock it off, you're going to lose him."

"Excuse me?"

When Rachel spoke again, she sounded worried. "It's like you keep taking up so much space… you're not leaving any for him, or your marriage. That's not healthy, and it's not good for either of you. And lately, it's like you two are just living parallel lives, like there's barely any connection, and Kurt… don't you see he's unhappy? The only time I really see him glow is on stage. He barely talks about his life outside the shows. It's not like him. Blaine used to be so vibrant, and it's like he's… fading. Look, I love you, you know that, and I want you to be happy. But you have to do something. If not…"

"Blaine would never leave me," Kurt said. For the first time in forever, he actually sounded uncertain of himself, as if that thought had never occurred to him before.

Do you want a divorce? Cooper's voice taunted him in his thoughts.

"He's unhappy," Rachel said, "you can't ignore that forever. Why would you want to ignore it?"

Blaine could hear a chair moving, and then he heard steps. Even from sound alone he recognized Kurt's pacing.

"I don't understand why we're talking about this. I have an idea to build something for us, and he's just not on board. He won't even listen. How am I the bad guy here?"

"Because you don't talk," Rachel said. Now, she sounded resigned. "You're not a bad guy, but sometimes it's like you take him for granted."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Kurt asked, clearly exasperated.

"Look at yourself, are you happy?" Rachel shot back. "I'm on your side here, Kurt. I love the both of you, but it's like you're losing each other. Is this what you promised each other at your wedding? Is this how you imagined things to be?"

"I didn't, okay?" Now, Kurt was yelling. "I never even got the chance to think about what I want from marriage because from one moment to the other, I just suddenly was married! I didn't have time to think about anything! And I've been trying to make this work, but I won't just disappear inside Blaine Devon I-Get-Cast-In-Anything-Without-Even-Trying Anderson's fairy tale. This is my life, too, Rachel! You don't see how easy this is for him, and I have to struggle at every step. The one time I catch a break, he spends every second moping about it because one person in the production company is a bit of a sleaze, only to turn around every single time there's a problem to run and get his ego stroked by the ultimate king of sleaze! And still, I'm trying to make it work, to find something we can build together. But he isn't interested, because he doesn't need it, does he? He lucked into an iconic role by knowing the right people and having the right look, and once that ends, of course he's going to move on to their next project, and everything will be fine for Blaine, and I have to struggle again to find something to do. I'm tired of it, I'm tired of having to fight for literally everything, and know that he won't ever get it, and I'm… I'm tired!"

There was silence, and Blaine found himself leaning against the wall for support. That was a lot of resentment, pent up over the years. He remembered another time, another fight, sitting on Kurt's bed as he was being yelled at about being an alpha-gay and not paying enough attention to his boyfriend. An old argument that he thought was in the past. Then again, how could arguments ever really be in the past if they never got resolved?

This though?

This was ridiculous, really. How could Kurt even still think of him this way, after seeing him knocked down, again and again? In a distant part of his mind he wondered whether he should feel upset, or guilty, or analyze his own faults and mistakes. But mostly, he felt numb. Was this what their marriage had become? He thought back to that day at Dalton, and the question whether he'd made a mistake. He had known it had been, but he still had thought he could make something out of it. Well, at least he hadn't been alone with this feeling.

He barely caught Rachel's next words.

"Kurt… I'm sorry. I didn't know you were this unhappy."

"I'm not," Kurt said, although he sounded exhausted. "But life isn't a fairy tale. There is no happily ever after. You keep going anyway. And even if things aren't great… I know how miserable I was without him. Even this… This is better. Just because it's not always sunshine and roses, it doesn't change that I love him."

After a moment of silence, Rachel spoke again. "I don't think this is working, Kurt. I mean… should it really be so hard?"

"It's life," Kurt replied. "You make it work. Because… well, what else is there?"

What else, indeed? They were silent for a while, and Blaine decided he had heard enough. He walked down the stairs, slowly, his mind empty. He remembered the number, burning through his thoughts. What were they even holding onto at this point?

Then again, it was easy for him, wasn't it? He could step away any time, in theory. One phone call, and everything would be taken care of. He had an exit strategy, built in almost from the start of their marriage. Was he making things too easy for himself?

He could feel the twitch in his fingers, the urge to call. He could hear Sebastian's voice in his ears, soft, alluring. When he closed his eyes, he could feel his hands in his hair, and his lips, that kiss…

It would be easy, so easy. End it, right now, right here. Don't look back, just leave. Almost four years of marriage, gone in a second.

But it wasn't that easy, was it? He thought back on all those memories they'd shared. The boys they'd been. Blackbird and Teenage Dream, and all the shared experiences. It deserved more than being thrown away on a whim, more consideration than this.

With a sigh, Blaine took out his phone, and switched it off.

Maybe tomorrow, when he could stand to think of it. Maybe another day.