Stuck In Second Gear

Callbacks really hadn't changed much since the last time he'd been here, a short while before Kurt's graduation. Blaine had never gotten quite comfortable with the place. Too many bad memories, and it wasn't helping that it was still a NYADA hangout, the school being another thing he didn't like to think about too much. But Rachel had insisted they needed to blow off some steam and had dragged him off to meet Jesse for a few drinks. And he had to admit, there was something about watching these two around each other – still so very much in love, it was almost sickeningly sweet.

"You seem distracted," Jesse noted.

Blaine shrugged. "It's nothing. It's just…" He looked around. "I'm not sure this is really still our scene."

"Kind of an 'I wish I could go back to college' vibe, right? By the way, did you ever consider Avenue Q? I think Kurt mentioned you used to have a Muppet? Because I know a guy…"

Blaine groaned, putting his head down into his arms to hide his face. Was bringing up bad memories tonight's theme?

"We're not that much older than everyone else," Rachel protested.

"You just like that the students recognize you," Jesse teased.

"What's wrong with that?" Rachel asked, laughter in her voice.

"Nothing wrong with basking in well-deserved admiration," Jesse admitted. "Though there is something wrong with what they call a Brandy Alexander…"

Blaine had to crack a smile when Jesse grimaced at his drink, grateful that there weren't many ways to screw up a bottle of beer.

"So Blaine, did you think about what you were going to do next?" Jesse asked. "Because I've got to tell you, we have a pretty good show planned."

"Stop it," Rachel said, "we're not here for a pitch meeting, remember?"

"What are we here for?" Blaine asked, frowning at her. He hadn't thought there was a particular purpose to a night out drinking, but now that he thought it about it, Rachel had been quite insistent.

"What? Nothing. Just, you know, have a few drinks, spend time together, hanging out…"

Rachel really didn't have a poker face sometimes… but before Blaine had a chance to demand to know why exactly he was here, someone cleared their throat on the stage microphone. Blaine turned, only a slight interest on who was there. He froze, when he saw it was Kurt standing there, looking around for a moment, before catching his eye.

"Hey, everyone. I graduated from NYADA a while ago, but I find this is still the best venue for a special performance."

Blaine stared at the stage, then looked at Rachel critically. She was looking at him excitedly, as if she couldn't wait for his reaction. Jesse didn't seem quite as convinced.

"I want do dedicate this performance to the most important person in my life. I know, sometimes I'm not saying the right things, or can't find the right words. But Blaine… I hope you understand how precious you are to me, when I express myself in the best way I know – through song."

He took a deep breath, nodded to the guitar player, who Blaine now recognized as one of Jackie's associates, and smiled as the first notes stared to draft over the crowd. Blaine frowned, trying to remember where he'd heard the melody before. But he couldn't quite place it, until Kurt started singing about love-struck Romeo. Then, he vaguely remembered.

Kurt's voice was beautiful, even if the song wasn't exactly in his range. But as he kept singing over Romeo serenading Juliet on her balcony, he wasn't quite sure how that fit their situation. He threw a glance over to Rachel, but she still just smiled at him. Was this supposed to mean anything?

And I forget, I forget the movie song.
When you gonna realize? It was just that the time was wrong…
Juliet…

The words struck him in a way he hadn't expected.

It was just that the time was wrong… The words rang in his head, Sebastian's voice, that sad smile, and all the other memories that Blaine tried to suppress.

On the stage, Kurt kept singing, about how strained things had become between Romeo and Juliet. That was maybe closer to home, but still Blaine felt uneasy. Between the bitterness and blame, as well as suppressing memories of another man's kiss, this had to be the most uncomfortable he'd ever been over a serenade. Why would Kurt think this fit? Did he really think Blaine was pushing him away over "chains of silver, chains of gold"? What kind of apology was this even supposed to be?

And even when the tone changed again, got somber and nostalgic, Blaine didn't feel swept away. He felt utterly detached, that even that promise – Juliet, I'd do the stars with you anytime – barely touched him.

As Kurt sang the last notes, the guitar went on for several chords before fading into silence. For a moment, Blaine thought everyone's eyes were on him, but soon he realized, nobody really seemed to care. The only eyes that were on him were Kurt's, and Rachel's. Even Jesse looked around, as if he felt uncomfortable being there. Blaine remembered glee club, and how back this, this was probably the moment where he'd have to go up on stage, and answer in song, wondering just what he'd sing in return. He then realized that McKinley and its weird rules were far behind them. They were adults, and if he wanted to say something, he would have to use his words.

And oh, did he have words.

He was aware of the hopeful smile in Rachel's face, Jesse still skeptical about the whole thing, as he watched Kurt approaching him, stopping right in front of him and smiling.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Blaine sighed, shaking his head. "Can we talk? Outside?"

"Of course," Kurt said, pulling him to his feet and leading the way out.

The air outside was cool, refreshing. But it didn't help calm down his nerves as they walked a few steps. He just tried to order his thoughts, figure out what to start with, when Kurt started speaking. Apparently, the song wasn't everything he had prepared.

"I know we haven't been on the same page lately," Kurt said, "and I know that's partially my fault. I guess it's easy to lose track of the important things, between shows and productions and making it as actors. There's just not much stability in our field, and it's so easy to get lost in it all, so you take the few stable things for granted. I think that's what's been happening. It might even be a good sign, that I feel so confident in the bond between us, that I just… you know, forget sometimes to properly care for it."

"Rachel talked to you," Blaine said softly. He could have figured out this much even if he hadn't heard them.

"It's not just her," Kurt said, a hint of protest in his voice. "Although I'd lie if I said she didn't wash my head the other day. But she's right. I've been taken you for granted, and I promised once to never do this again. And I'm sorry. I don't ever want to lose you. You're too important. We're too important. So, this is me promising to not fall back into this trap."

Kurt was smiling at him, his posture strong and confident. Blaine had a suspicion that he must have practiced this little speech a few times, and still, it sounded heartfelt. He remembered high school, and college, and the speeches he heard in the past. Promises not to fall out of contact, promises to keep their relationship alive, to not forget him again… As sweet as Kurt's words sounded, this wasn't the first time he heard them. They felt like a cover of a song he used to love – familiar enough to pluck on the same old strings, but not enough to actually make him feel anything.

"So what do you think?" Kurt asked, slightly surprised. He probably had expected an answer sooner.

"What's different?" Blaine asked.

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You promised this before, Kurt. But it feels like we keep coming back to this point. So, what's going to be different this time? Just how do you plan to not fall into the same traps again? How-" He stopped himself. The words sounded familiar, but in his mind, they weren't spoken in his own voice.

"I love you," Kurt said.

Blaine sighed. "I know you do," he said. "When you think of it. That has never been the problem. It's just… it's like we live off these moments, these big gestures, but it's the everyday that kills us."

"I want to try," Kurt said, his voice small in a way that sounded foreign, in a way that Blaine hadn't heard in years.

And still, the words struck a chord with him. "I've been trying for almost four years, in case you haven't noticed."

"And you think I haven't?" Kurt asked. His stance was getting more defensive, and his voice higher, brighter, as if he was getting ready for attack, although there was another note in his tone that he couldn't quite name. Usually, Blaine would step back, maybe lament why he couldn't get through to Kurt without raising his shields. Now, even this didn't seem to quite touch him.

"Look, that was a sweet song, but it doesn't change anything. I need more than words, Kurt. I need…" Nonna's words came back to him. "I need something real."

"This is real," Kurt insisted, taking his hand. And suddenly, Blaine realized what that note in his voice was. Despair. Such a strange sentiment, to think that he should have this kind of power over Kurt. It was almost too much to consider, so he continued.

"These moments are nice," Blaine said, "but if it doesn't shine through into the daily routine, into the everyday… then I'm sorry, it's not enough."

"What do you want me to do?" Kurt asked.

Blaine lowered his eyes. "I don't know," he said softly. "But this… this isn't working. And singing me a song won't change it." He couldn't look up, didn't want to see the despair overtaking Kurt's face, the tears welling up in his eyes.

"So now it's all on me?" Kurt asked. "Like you're perfect and can do no wrong."

"I never said I was," Blaine said. "But… aren't you tired?"

Kurt stared at him in a way he couldn't bear.

"Because I am," Blaine said. "And this… what we're doing… it's not fair to either of us. And ignoring it won't get us anywhere."

Kurt was still looking at him, completely helpless. None of this seemed to go the way he'd expected. But then again, nothing had really gone as planned in the last few years.

Blane sighed. "I'm tired. I'll just head back, okay?"

Kurt looked at him, blinking, a sheen of moisture over his eyes. He looked younger, smaller than usual. But slowly, he nodded, letting him go.

Blaine nodded and turned, trying his best not to look like he was running away. He couldn't quite believe he'd said all these things to Kurt. Strange enough, it felt like he'd somehow won an altercation. But he couldn't feel happy about it. Honestly, he barely felt anything. Even the cold wind couldn't reach through the numbness spreading over him. What then did it mean?

"Tomorrow," he told himself. "When I can stand it."

It couldn't silence that feeling deep inside. Winds of change, and something coming.

Something was coming.

Some mornings, Blaine wasn't sure why he was still doing this. But every morning he got up, started the day, had small talk with his husband, and… just kept going. He wondered if a confrontation like the one at callbacks shouldn't have any form of consequences. Then again, which serenade ever had? The Gap Attack, sure, and probably that time Kurt scheduled a session of couple's therapy with the least qualified counselor ever, but mostly, it was just song and dance and then the problems were ignored until they came up again – because how could they not, when nothing ever was resolved?

That was Sebastian's voice, right there in his head, all the things he'd warned about four years ago. He'd been right. Blaine just wondered when he'd allowed these words to take root within his mind.

West Side Story closed, still a success. Robb seemed to be of the opinion to end on a high note, and Blaine figured it wasn't the worst idea. They had built up a sort of interim show until they prepared to launch their new main project. Blaine still hadn't decided whether he'd sign up for more, and he knew, he'd have to make his choice very soon. It probably wasn't a bad idea, but that would still take months. While he didn't have to worry about finances in the meantime, he was slightly concerned what it would do to his mental state to have this much time to spend thinking.

His thoughts had become exhausting lately, and way too melancholic. What was he going to do with his life? What expectations did he have for his future? What was he even doing? The one thing he was sure of was, this wasn't happiness. It felt as if West Side Story had been the last bright spot in his life. Now, even his career seemed to take a break. His friendship with Rachel once more cooled down as the wedding preparations glued her closer to Kurt. His college friends had moved away. Even as the weather turned warmer, he felt lonelier than he had in a long time.

And his marriage…

More and more, his thoughts wandered to the number, to change. He was restless, and he wished he had someone to talk to. He considered Rachel, but she was too close to the situation. Cooper was really busy at the moment. He thought about calling Sam back in Ohio, but how would he even begin to explain the whole situation?

More than anything, he wanted to talk to Sebastian. But he didn't dare to call him, not trusting himself to not make it The Call. Which, just maybe, told him everything he needed to know.

He tried to distract himself. He even – on Jesse's insistence – went to that Avenue Q audition, wondering whether Princeton's search for a purpose might resonate with him. It honestly hadn't gone half-bad. He'd even been invited to a few drinks afterwards and given a chance to chat up the casting directors. Maybe this could be something new for him. Something meaningful. He felt almost hopeful when he returned back to the loft.

As he walked through the door, he wasn't quite surprised to find Rachel and Kurt sitting together, chatting about something. The atmosphere changed completely though once they noticed his presence.

"There you are!" Kurt said, beaming at him.

Rachel, too, looked absolutely ecstatic, almost jumping to her feet to greet him with a hug.

"Hey, guys," Blaine said. "What's going on?" Behind them, he noticed something lying on the table. Frowning, he stepped past Rachel, picking it up. It was fabric, a onesie now that he got a closer look at it. He froze, excitement bubbling up inside him. Was Rachel- What else could it mean? He was about to turn to her, congratulate and bask in the shared happiness, when he noticed the print on the fabric.

I 3 my Dads.

He dropped it as if it burnt him.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, turning to the two of them.

"It's a onesie, silly!" Rachel sounded giddy in a way he hadn't heard since high school. She clearly wasn't going to be more helpful than this.

He looked at Kurt, careful not to let his expression fall completely. "Kurt… care to explain?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kurt asked. He was smiling, as if he was holding back the most amazing news.

Blaine started to feel nauseated.

Kurt stood up and walked up to him, taking both his hands, before he started speaking. In a distant part of his mind, Blaine wondered if this had been rehearsed.

"I've been thinking a lot," he said, "about what you said to me, at Callbacks, and the other day when we talked about Virginia Woolf. And… I think I get it now. It's perfectly normal to feel lost once you lose a family member. I remember what a mess I was after Finn died… so you try to hold on to what you have, and onto family, especially if that was important to her. I understand that."

Blaine had his doubts. He looked at the fabric lying on the table, then back to his husband. "How does any of that lead to a onesie?" he asked.

"Well, remember how I said I wanted Virginia Woolf as our next project?" he asked. "Our baby, so to speak."

Blaine withdrew his hands, staring at Kurt as if he lost his mind. "A show is not a baby."

Kurt rolled his eyes, as if Blaine was being especially ridiculous. "Well, obviously. But I realized, maybe you were so upset about spending money on a metaphorical baby, because your grandmother would have preferred an actual baby."

It was a strange experience. Blaine knew there were words, and really, lots of very colorful ones were swirling around his brain right now, and still, none seemed to make it past his lips.

"I figured this is the perfect way to use the money. Rachel already agreed to be our surrogate, we thought we could do what her dads did and you know… mix and leave it to chance, and we can prepare till the baby comes, and in the meanwhile, we can write and produce Virginia Woolf. So, a real baby and a metaphorical one. What do you say?"

Blaine took a break from staring at Kurt to look at Rachel. "You… you think this is a good idea?"

Rachel beamed at him. "I think it's the perfect solution. I know you've been feeling a bit lonely lately. Maybe a baby can bring you two closer together. And you know I'd do anything for you two."

Ice seemed to be flowing through his veins, muting Rachel's continued talking about how helpful it would be for the baby to have the birth mother around as an aunt.

A baby.

A child to bring them closer together, to fix the mess their marriage had become. In his memory, he heard Sebastian's bitter laughter. Does it ever work out?

"What do you say?" Kurt asked, a slight frown appearing in his face. Maybe he started to realize that like his serenade, this conversation didn't have the effect on Blaine he had hoped.

Blaine turned to Rachel again. "I think you should leave," he said, trying to sound calm and not like the mess he felt. "Kurt and I need to talk."

Finally, the smile faded from her face. She shot a look to Kurt, then back to him. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. She seemed to consider hugging both or either of them for a moment, but something in Blaine's face must have changed her mind, as she turned around and just left.

"I don't understand," Kurt said once the door closed behind her. "Isn't this what you want?"

Blaine stared at him. "How on earth can you think this is what I want? Where is this even coming from? When have we ever talked about children?"

"Of course we did!" Kurt protested. "We always said we'd have children someday, and that we'd need a surrogate, and who would be better than Rachel?"

"That was fantasizing, Kurt! Random talk about things we can do in the future! Not once did we talk about concrete plans, or a timeline, or anything!" He stepped back, running a hand through his curls. "What were you thinking?" he asked, surprised by how exhausted he sounded.

Kurt stared at him, disbelief in his eyes. This was clearly not how he had imagined this conversation to go. Well, Blaine had different ideas about how the night was going, and here they were.

When Kurt started talking, he sounded insecure in a way Blaine wasn't sure he even heard since high school, back at Dalton, back when the worst spy he'd ever seen had tried to crash their rehearsal.

"You said it yourself, we're not working," Kurt said. "And I know, it's because we focus on everything but us. This… this can save our marriage. We'd have something to focus on, a child to raise, to become a real family. And just think how our parents would be thrilled about a little one. That could be the something real you wanted. A real family. You and me, and the little one, and Rachel… Imagine it. That, and our own show. We could be happy. Don't you want to be happy?"

It was so much easier to look at anything but his husband. But that wasn't fair. He owed Kurt this much. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he did imagine. A screaming baby. He'd be running himself ragged between caring for it and preparing for auditions. Kurt would be annoyed by the screaming, the diapers, the spit-up... Rachel would dance around, always somehow part and not part of their family. And that was only the baby times. Just to think of the child growing up – and the two of them, mid-twenties, and immature, and so not equipped to raise as much as a pet hamster, driving each other and the child and Rachel insane with the stress…

Eventually, he shook his head.

"This is not the way, Kurt. How would that even work? We're barely holding on now, do you really think throwing the stress of a baby would make things better? Like we'd stop fighting when there's so much more stress added…"

"But… I thought you wanted a family," Kurt said.

"I do! Some time in the future. But, Kurt, we're way too young! I'm like a year out of college. Neither of us has an established career. We can barely take care of ourselves, how the hell are we supposed to look after a child? And what would that do with Rachel, having her carry a child and then give it away? What about her wedding? And what does Jesse say?"

"Well, clearly we didn't talk to Jesse before we talk to you," Kurt said.

"Oh, but obviously you and Rachel are discussing it first," Blaine said, surprised at his own bitterness. "Like that's not part of the problem…"

"Do you have an issue with Rachel now?" Kurt asked.

"No, I'm having an issue with the fact that the first person you talk to about you and me starting a family is Rachel!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "We're talking right now. Well, I'm talking, you're yelling for some reason."

Blaine stepped back, shaking his head. "Don't you see how completely insane this is? We're a mess. We haven't been in synch in… months, if not longer. I don't even remember the last time we slept together. We don't talk, we don't even really share our lives anymore. We're barely more than roommates at this point. And you think this is the situation to bring a child in?"

Eventually, Kurt deflated, but there was a spark in his eyes. Something else was coming.

"Therapy, then."

Blaine frowned, surprised at this sudden switch of gears. "What?"

"Marriage counseling," Kurt said, as if it was the easiest solution in the world. Maybe to him it was. "We'll get our marriage back on track. We're going to be okay. I'll call Mrs. Schuster if she knows any therapists in New York."

"That's… that's it?" Blaine asked. "Counseling, and all our problems will just vanish?"

"Obviously not, it's not magic. But… we're lost. We need help. I get wrapped up in my own stuff, so I need to learn to slow down and look after you, too. And well, you just have to learn to speak up instead of burying all your feelings and running off to whine to someone else instead of telling me what your problem is."

Blaine stared at him in disbelief. So that was what Kurt thought their issues were? That Blaine needed him to slow down? That it was Blaine's own fault for not speaking up? And of course, obviously, again and again – Sebastian. Somewhere he realized that this was just so… unfair, but even that felt distant. There was something else, an idea that he was just about to grasp, just out of his reach… He felt as if he was standing on a cliff, impossibly close to an abyss he'd been ignoring for a long time. He could almost see it…

Instead, he found himself talking, as if that could help him understand, or maybe evade what was coming.

"Do you know why I don't speak up?"

Kurt frowned, clearly not expecting this reply.

"I'm tired of screaming to be heard at all, Kurt. It's like you don't even notice me when I just tell you something. I have to scream at the top of my lungs for you to even notice me. And even then… what's the point? Even when you hear what I say, you're not listening."

"What's that even supposed to mean?" Kurt asked. "I can hear you just fine. You just never tell me when you have a problem and expect me to just read your mind!"

"And what about Glenn?"

Kurt actually had the gall to roll his eyes. "Are you seriously starting with that again?"

There was a taste of bile at the back of his throat, but this time, Blaine wouldn't back down.

"I told you he harassed me, that I was uncomfortable around him. And you didn't care. You told yourself it wasn't that bad, or that I imagined it, all so you could get what you want. So, tell me, when you don't even care when I tell you something like this, why should I bother telling you anything?"

"So, you want me to sacrifice my complete career because you felt uncomfortable once?"

"I want my husband to give a damn about me," Blaine bit back. "And don't talk to me about sacrifice. When have you ever given up anything for me, or this marriage? Like one aspect of your life would be different if I wasn't around."

"Excuse me?" Kurt snapped.

His tone was sharp as a knife, and to his own surprise, Blaine realized that he did not care. His usual instinct of stepping back, placating Kurt's temper, seemed to have completely dissolved, and he wasn't sure why. Was it the idea of bringing a child into their misery? The sheer lunacy that Kurt could even begin to think this would fix their issues? Or was he just really this tired?

Still, as Kurt kept talking, Blaine felt the strangest rush inside him, the abyss in front of him widening up.

"How can you be upset with me for not giving up the one career opportunity that opened up? Like you can even understand what that meant for me! You don't know what it means to struggle. You just stumble into roles without even trying! And the one time I find something – not because of luck, or knowing the right people, but because I actually was the best actor for the role – you expect me to give it up, so you feel more comfortable?"

"I expected you to care," Blaine said. It was strange, unreal. They were fighting, in a way they hadn't in… years. He should be upset, he should be scared. And yes, his pulse had picked up, there was a current of electricity running through him, but at the same time, he felt calm in a way he hadn't in a very long time. Only then did he realize he had used the past tense. Expected. Now, there were no expectations left.

Under his feet, the ice started to crack.

"I do care," Kurt said. The anger in his voice faded, turning into a more pleading tone. "That's why I want to make this work. This is good, actually – that you tell me what you think. We can only figure this out if we're honest."

"I told you, there's no point in talking if you don't listen," Blaine said.

"Maybe I'd listen if you could stop running off to your backup boyfriend," Kurt said, again sharper than he probably intended.

Blaine couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Well, thank God for Sebastian, because what on earth would we be doing if we didn't have a backup scapegoat we can blame for everything? Just imagine we'd have to face the real reason we're not working."

"What is it then?" Kurt demanded. "If it has nothing to do with him… then what is it? Why can't we make this work?"

Another crack, and the ice gave in.

As Blaine looked at Kurt, he finally understood, and the realization almost made his knees buckle. He held onto the table, closing his eyes against the wave of dizziness.

One moment. Oh, that was it… the answer he'd been looking for.

He managed to fall back into one of the chairs, staring up at Kurt as if he was seeing him for the first time ever. And for a moment, he did. He saw the boy he'd met back at Dalton, who'd looked at him hopeful, wide-eyed, as if all those ridiculous pretenses about knowing what he was doing were true. He blinked and saw the same boy, standing in front of the warblers and singing over a dead bird. Blink, and that same boy looked at him, amazed at a confession of love. Blink, and that boy promised to not forget him. Blink, and he stared at him, hurt and desperate over the confession of his worst mistake. Blink, ice skating at Christmas. Blink, the boy growing older, agreeing to marry him. Blink, the boy becoming a man, crushing his heart. Blink, the man promising to have and to hold him, to love him forever. Another blink, and another, and another… All those boys and men in his face, and still, in front of him, there was a complete stranger.

It felt like drowning, but not quite. There was a rush around him, he wasn't sure if it was fear, or excitement, or just pure adrenaline. Kurt stepped closer, clearly concerned, asking if he was okay. Blaine wanted to laugh – he wasn't even sure what okay meant. But finally, the truth had crystallized inside his mind.

A long time ago, he had confessed to Kurt his biggest fear. One day, he'd been sure, Kurt would wake up, and just realize…

I don't love him anymore.

There were tears gathering in his eyes, but he blinked them away, swallowed them down. He didn't have the right to cry about this – not considering what he was about to do. Because… where was he supposed to go after this realization? He'd been tired and unhappy for so long, but he had thought their marriage was worth the fight. But somewhere on the way, love had eroded into nothing. And with that truth obvious, he realized something else. He couldn't go on fighting. He just didn't have the will, or the strength anymore. And what was the point?

Blaine looked up at Kurt, who was looking at him concerned. He wondered what he looked like right now. Maybe as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Are you okay?"

The words were like lead inside his mind, but he couldn't keep them down.

"Kurt… I can't do this anymore."

Something in his voice must have gone through. Kurt stared at him, wide-eyed, paler than ever. "What… do you mean? Can't do what anymore?"

"This. Us." Blaine looked up, his helplessness pouring out into the open. "Kurt… we're broken. You can't fix us with counselling or a child or… anything."

Kurt frowned, shaking his head. "No, don't say that. Of course we can fix it. We're not broken, just… bent. But we can make it work, as long as we still love each other."

Blaine looked at him, but he couldn't force out anymore words. Instead, he shook his head.

And maybe, Kurt understood. "No," he whispered. "No! It won't end like this. I won't let it."

Blaine sighed, averting his eyes. "It's already over."

Kurt stumbled backwards as if he'd hit him. Blaine felt sorry for him, but he couldn't feel guilty. He looked up once more, and okay, it did hurt a bit seeing the pain on his face. He'd promised to spend his life with this man. But he had tried, and… he couldn't.

Four years. And all he had to show for were three words. He had tried.

"You- You can't just say it's over. Not after one fight."

It wasn't one fight, though. It was the culmination of their entire marriage, and maybe he should have known this was going to happen. A part of him had known since the Dalton fire.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up from his chair. The ground felt unstable under his feet, but he ignored it.

Kurt stopped talking. He must have seen something in his face, something that told him that this wouldn't be fixed with yelling or promises or songs.

"We're not doing this," Kurt said. "Not like this. Not in a fight. We'll calm down, and we'll talk tomorrow, and we'll fix this. Tomorrow."

Blaine looked at him in exasperation. "Just because tomorrow is another day doesn't mean it will be different."

"You don't know that," Kurt said. He sounded frantic, and Blaine realized – he knew. This was the only way he could think of staving off the words they both knew were looming over them. Like this was something they could run or hide from…

But Kurt wasn't listening.

Big surprise, there.

"I'm going to stay with Rachel, and tomorrow we'll talk. Okay?" He waited for a moment, before repeating himself. "Okay?"

Blaine steeled himself, before he looked up to meet Kurt's eyes. "It will still be over."

He wondered if this was what a broken heart looked like. Kurt's eyes had welled up, and he wondered if he'd ever seen Kurt crying over him. He couldn't remember. But now, Kurt turned around, running from the loft and the truth, leaving Blaine behind.

And here he was, surrounded by the remains of his life, and his marriage, sitting in a loft he despised, with furniture and things he didn't care for, the place that had never been home.

What now then?

Tomorrow, Kurt would return, and the truth would have settled. There'd be fighting, and maybe pleading, although he wouldn't be surprised if the pain would transform into defiance and anger. And then? What did he have left? He clearly couldn't stay in the loft – not that he'd ever want to. Most of his friends had left New York. There was no doubt Rachel would take Kurt's side. He had no job, and the possibility of one play wasn't enough to hold him. Kurt had been the last thing tethering him here.

There it was again, that feeling of not quite drowning.

No, not drowning. Falling.

Slowly, he walked through the loft. There, in the shelf, was the picture frame. Only when he opened it, did he notice just how badly his hands were shaking. He almost broke the frame before he finally pulled out the piece of paper. He knew the number by heart, had it saved in his phone. But it felt right this way. Slowly, he pushed every single digit, and then, he waited.

The phone rang, as he tried to calm down his breathing. With every signal tone, another question popped up. Where to go? What to do next? How to tell his parents, or Kurt's parents, or their friends? What would any of them think of him?

Did it matter? This wasn't a step he could choose. It was the only way.

And then, finally, the call connected.

On the other end, he could faintly hear the sounds of a street. He wondered how late it was in Los Angeles, or where Sebastian was right now. All those thoughts cycled through his mind as he tried to calm his breathing enough to speak. And Sebastian waited patiently, giving him the time he needed, as if he knew.

They both had known for four years. This had been inevitable. As he closed his eyes, Blaine lost himself of the memory of Sebastian's embrace, promising warmth, and safety, and home, and finally, he spoke the words they'd both known were coming.

"Sebastian… I'd like to make my phone call."