Blaine doesn't want to open his eyes. He thinks he might somehow be back at home, and he'll have to blink himself into consciousness only to end up back in his bed, all alone. Even though he knows that was always the plan, for a few painful seconds he is sure he won't wake up to Kurt.

Then he feels warmth in front of him, skin against his, and waking up isn't so scary. He slowly opens his eyes to see light brown hair in front of him, above a pale neck and shoulder. The rain is still going, really blasting the streets now, and Blaine smiles to himself. He had expected a techniclour version of this place to be all blue skies and sunshine, but somehow this is better. With a sigh, he nuzzles into Kurt's neck and tightens his arm around his waist. Kurt, sleepy and soft and smelling delicious, tilts his head with a smile, allowing Blaine better access with a gentle hum.

'Morning,' Kurt whispers, voice still thick with sleep. 'You're still here.'

'I am.'

Kurt shuffles and turns around, and when he does, his eyes light up.

'Blaine!'

Blaine frowns. 'What?'

'Get out. Go,' he says, shoving Blaine out of bed and clambering out of bed to drag him over to the mirror. 'Look.'

Blaine stares, open-mouthed, at himself. It's finally happened. He looks like he used to, his cheeks flushed, his eyes brown, but he's somehow unrecognisable. And not just because he doesn't squirm away when Kurt wraps his arms around his waist, smiling at him in the mirror and kissing his cheek.

A crack of thunder makes them both jump. Kurt steps over to the window.

'Oh, boy. It's really coming down out there.'

'I know. I haven't seen a storm like this since-' the penny drops. 'Oh my god.'

'What?'

'Kurt, I'm so sorry, but I- I think I have to go.'

Kurt's smile fades. 'Oh. You mean, like… go, go?'

Blaine squeezes his lips together and nods. 'I think so.'

For a moment, the only sound is the rain tapping at the windows. Blaine takes Kurt's hand, but he pulls it away.

'Your clothes should be dry by now,' he says, picking up Blaine's sweater from the floor. 'What else did you bring?'

Blaine puts the sweater on, wriggling out of the pyjama pants and stepping into his trousers. 'Kurt.'

'Although, I guess it doesn't matter if you leave something behind.'

'Kurt, that's not fair. Would you look at me for a minute?'

'Don't you want your shirt?' Blaine shakes his head. 'I don't care about the stuff. You know that.'

Kurt sniffs. 'Don't go.' Until now he's always been so calm about this; they've both known it was coming for so long, but now he seems rattled – no, distraught. Blaine takes the shirt out of his hand and puts it on the bad, stepping closer and putting his hands on Kurt's hips. He kisses him tenderly, on his lips, his jaw, his cheek. 'Blaine, I- I don't know what I'm going to do without you.'

Blaine swallows. If changing his mind were ever possible, this would be the moment to break him – but he knows he can't. He has so much unfinished business to take care of. He needs to tell his parents the truth. He needs to find a way to be as brave back home as he is here.

'Kurt, if there's anything I have learned about you, it's that you are a lot stronger than you think. You don't need me.'

'But what if I just want you here anyway?'

Blaine kisses him again. 'I can't. I'm sorry.'

Kurt closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Blaine's. 'No, I'm sorry. I knew this was coming. I didn't want to – this wasn't how this was supposed to go. There was so much I wanted to say, like how grateful I am that all of this happened, that you came here, how much you've changed everything for the better. How much I love you.'

'You changed it too. Everyone did. All we ever did was give you a nudge.' He steps into Kurt's arms, resting his head on his shoulder. 'And I love you too. I never thought I was even capable of loving anyone like I love you. This is just… something I have to do.'

They stay like that for a minute, breathing each other in and holding on tight.

'Okay. You need to find Santana.'

Blaine smiles up at him. 'I'm grateful to you too. I don't think you know how much you've changed me.' Kurt nods, scared that his voice will waver too much if he tries to talk again. 'Kurt, I had no idea how unhappy I was until I met you.' Kurt takes his hand.

They walk downstairs. Blaine slips into his shoes, Kurt pulls a sweater on, and they hug again at the door. 'I would offer you an umbrella, but we've never had to buy one.'

Blaine snorts. 'The other Blaine has no idea how lucky he's about to be.'

Kurt clears his throat. 'I'll try to be gentle with him. Say hi to other Kurt for me.'

'I'm sure that won't get weird. "Just so you know, there's another version of you and he says hello." He definitely won't think I'm crazy.'

'Hey, people here thought you were crazy at first. They came around.'

Blaine nods. 'Take care of each other. This will all be so much better if you all stick together.'

'Do you think we can make Miss Mendoza Principal?'

'I think she'd be perfect.'

There's another pause, and another flash of lightning. Kurt yanks Blaine into one last hug. Neither of them can bring themselves to say the word, but they know this is goodbye.

Kurt opens the door, and Blaine steps onto the porch. 'I love you. Don't stay out – I don't want you to get cold.'

'I love you too. Get home safe.'

Blaine nods, taking a deep breath, and ventures out into the downpour, running so fast he can't stop and look back.

Santana kisses Brittany's cheek then pads downstairs in a sweater and pants – she's amazed that pants have appeared in her closet now, even if she would prefer jeans. If she has to wear one more poodle skirt, she may have to set herself on fire. The clothes, and her skin, may still be grey, but this is a step in the right direction.

Dad's hunched over the stove in his pyjamas and dressing gown, scratching at a frying pan with a spatula and muttering angrily to himself.

'You okay, Dad?'

He jumps when he hears her.

'Oh, Santana. I can't get this – I'm trying to make breakfast for your mother, but I'm making such a mess.'

She laughs. 'Here, let me-'

He moves the pan out of her reach. 'No, don't do it for me. Just show me how. I need to do this myself.'

The determination in his eyes fills her with warmth. 'Okay. So, let's just turn down the heat first, so it can't burn…'

It's only eggs, and they're the messiest eggs she's ever seen, but he's beaming with pride as he plates everything up to take upstairs. He looks up at her to say thank you, and his mouth falls open.

'Santana – you're… you're-' She looks down at her hands. Her skin is brown. She runs to the mirror. Her pants are red, her sweater is dark green, and it all looks way too Christmassy and tacky, but she looks like a real person. She feels Dad's hand in hers. 'Honey, you look wonderful.'

She suddenly feels sheepish. 'Thanks, Dad.' She hugs him. 'I'm really proud of you, you know that?'

'Thanks, pumpkin.' He kisses her forehead and goes to make coffee. Santana hears footsteps coming downstairs, and Dad seems to take far longer than necessary so they have some privacy.

Brittany bites her lip when she sees Santana. 'Oh my goodness.'

She feels her face getting hot. 'Do I, uh-' she clears her throat. 'Do I look pretty?'

Brittany kisses her. 'You always did.' Their hands link together. 'I need to get home; my parents will be wondering where I've gone.'

'Okay. I'll see you soon.'

Brittany looks deep into her eyes, and once again Santana can't help but wondering if she is a lot wiser than everyone else thinks. 'No, you won't.'

Santana falters. 'I- I don't even know if-'

Brittany kisses her again, shutting her up. 'It's okay. We both knew this was coming. Someone out there is missing you, and as much as I want to keep you here, I know I can't.' She brushes Santana's hair back, smiling. Santana's eyes prickle.

'Thanks for understanding. I'm sorry.'

'I'm not sorry. Not one bit. You and me, we'll make something amazing wherever we are, even if it's not together. Although after last night, I'm surprised I can even stand.'

Dad drops a teaspoon in the sink with a loud clatter.

Brittany kisses Santana again. 'I love you. It's time for you and Blaine to go home. You're done fixing this place.'

Santana's dumbstruck for the first time she can remember. All she can do is wrap her arms around Brittany's waist, hide her face in her neck for a moment, and let one tear roll down her cheek when she pulls away.

'I'll never forget you, Britt.'

Brittany nods and kisses her cheek. 'No, you won't. I'm in there forever.' Santana lets out a teary laugh. 'Promise me you'll be kind to yourself, okay?'

Just like that, she leaves. Santana watches from the door, sleeves pulled over her hands, arms wrapped around herself, as Brittany runs through the rain, drenched in seconds, knowing she'll never see this version of her again. It doesn't occur to her for a second that maybe Brittany doesn't care that she's leaving. Maybe she's putting on a brave face to make it easier, or maybe she just knows this is how it has to be, but Santana doesn't question for a moment how much their time together meant to both of them. She flinches when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

'Are you alright, sweetheart?'

She turns and leans into Dad, letting him hold her up; she hasn't let anyone hold her like this for so long. She blinks quickly, letting a few more tears fall onto his shoulder.

'Dad, Blaine and I, we-'

'Can this wait? I want to get all of this up to your mother before the eggs get cold.'

She nods. 'Sure. Mom's really lucky to have you.'

He gives her hand a squeeze before putting the breakfast things on a tray and heading upstairs. She's only alone for a few seconds before the door opens and Blaine crashes in, soaking wet and panting.

'Jesus, Blaine, what the-'

There's a bolt of lightning outside, and a deep rumble of thunder. Still catching his breath, he jabs his thumb behind him in the direction of the window. 'Storm,' he manages to pant out.

'What do you – wait. The storm. Oh my god, of course.' Blaine's nodding enthusiastically. 'A storm brought us here, so now – the diner?'

He clears his throat. 'I think so. Where are Mom and Dad?'

'They're upstairs. He made her breakfast.'

'Seriously?'

She nods. 'Minimal assistance from me. B, I don't think I've got another goodbye in me. Can we just go?'

'Probably for the best. Wait.' He points at her. 'Colour. Nice.'

'You too. Except you look like crap.'

He shrugs. 'Fair. You will too in a second. Should we at least leave a note?'

'Yeah, okay, here.' She hands him paper and a pen.

'What do I put? Gotta go through a wormhole or whatever, have a good life?'

She sighs and takes the pen.

Mom and Dad,

Thanks for everything. We have to go – if we're confused when we get home, don't worry about it. Just remind us about the last couple of weeks. We love you a lot.

S + B

X

'Is that okay?'

More thunder and lightning make them both jump.

'I think it'll have to be. More than this and they'll think it's weird. Nothing'll ever really be enough.'

She nods.

They stand together for a moment, taking a few slow breaths. They don't need to say anything else. They both nod, before going outside and bursting into a run.

They get about halfway to the diner, soaked to the skin, when Santana stops them.

'Blaine, stop. I- I don't wanna go back.'

He stands there, getting wetter and wetter, traces of styling cream (god, it'll be good to get back to modern hair products) dripping down his cheeks and staring at her. 'What? Santana, this is all we've been talking about since-'

'No, I don't mean – I want to go back, of course I do, I need to see if Luna's okay and- I just don't wanna go back to how it was. With you and me.'

'Yeah, neither do I. We both want to be better. That's a good thing, right?'

'But I don't think we can be better with each other. Do you even remember what it used to be like, Blaine? It was terrible. We were miserable, and we made each other worse.'

Blaine still just stands there, understanding starting to dawn. He asks anyway.

'What do you mean?'

'I was horrible, Blaine. I was mean. I yelled at people who didn't deserve it. I cut everyone out except you because you're as unhappy as I am. And you – you're just this sad, scared, lonely boy who'd rather throw himself around like you're nothing than just be honest and vulnerable. I know you hate it. I know you're unhappy. But I never say anything. And you never call me out on my crap, either. We're enablers. We drag each other down because… I don't know, because it's easier just staying unhappy together than trying to make a change.'

Blaine breathes out a single laugh, incredulous. 'Are you breaking up with me?'

She just stares at him, shivering.

'Oh my god, you are.' They stand for a moment, the only sound the hammering of the rain around them. 'After all of this, you just, what – don't want to see me any more?'

She sniffs and looks around herself. 'We should go.'

'Fine. We'll go back and you can find better friends who magically make you nice.'

They run the rest of the way to the diner. Santana stares straight ahead, but Blaine catches the occasional glance at her. He doesn't understand why she's so mad at him. It keeps eating at him until they reach the diner, and before they go in he grabs her wrist and stops them.

'No. No, Jesus, Santana, we can't go back like this. Can you even see how fucked this is? You've been my sister here, like really my sister, and I thought you would be my sister out there too. You want a friend who'll call you out on your crap? Okay, I'll be that friend. You're mean. You're furious at the world but you take it out on all the wrong people.' She pulls her hand away, but doesn't move inside. 'Brittany wanted to do something fun in a group project and you cut her down. Some dumb kid asked you out, and I know it was annoying, but the guy didn't even know you were gay, and he apologised, but you still ripped him to shreds. And Mrs Hawkins? She took a risk being honest with a class full of idiots, because she wants to make life easier for people like us. A few years ago, she would've got fired for that. You acted like she was a monster, but you should've been saying thank you. We both should.'

'What if we go back to being those people? I don't want to get home and become that again.'

'Well, I didn't think new Santana would take that shot at me, but you did. And hell, you're right. I was miserable back home. I was lonely, and sad, and just so full of shit and fake confidence when I'm really just a kid who can't tell his parents he's gay. There, I can say it now, I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm gay. I don't think I ever said it out loud before. Back home we were both mean because we were scared. And I thought we'd moved past that together. Maybe you're still a coward.'

'Anything else?'

Blaine pauses. The other things are tiny compared to the one he's been holding back.

'Your dad is depressed, Santana. I know he's failing you, and it's shit, and it's so unfair that you've had to pick up the slack for so long, but it isn't because he doesn't care, or because he doesn't love you. It's because he's drowning. He needs help. Maybe you think it's better to just take over the house stuff and to look after Luna, because you don't trust him not to mess up again. But if you don't try and work together, it's never going to get better. Aren't you exhausted? Aren't you tired of being a student and a waitress and a parent all on top of punishing him? Don't you wish you could just be a big sister again?'

She can barely look at him. Her face is crumpled and her tears mix with the rain on her cheeks. She takes a shaky breath and nods.

'What if he lets us down again?'

He takes both of her hands in his.

'Then at least you've got a big gay brother to help look out for you.' She laughs, pushing damp strands of hair back from her face. 'I mean, back home I was trying to stop myself from feeling anything, but here I held hands with Kurt and thought I was going to collapse. Look at what we've just been through together! If this doesn't prove we can both change, I don't know what will. I want to do things differently. Even though it might make my parents cry or feel sorry for me or look at me differently, and it might mean I end up in a club full of dorks and it's definitely going to feel uncomfortable and embarrassing and everything I've avoided feeling for a long time, but maybe I'll get to be happy at the end of all that. I really think I can do it. We did so much here, together. The only thing that would make it all truly unbearable is doing it without my best friend. My sister.'

She's looking at the floor, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

'Do you really think I can do it? Be nice? Even to him?'

He grins. 'What got you into colour?'

'How'd you know?'

'There's no way Dad made Mom breakfast without any help.'

She smiles. 'What did it for you? It can't be a sex thing.'

'I think it was the opposite. We just stayed up talking and, you know, making out, and when I woke up – this.'

'So all we needed to do was have a sleepover and be nice to Dad?'

He shrugs. 'I think that was just… the conclusion. Part of a bigger picture.'

'Better be, or that was a whole lot of fuss over nothing.'

The correction, the fact that this was far from nothing, goes unsaid.

'So,' he says, 'shall we?' She tentatively steps forward and hugs him. 'Oh. Okay.'

'Have we ever done this before?'

'Don't think so.'

They pause, still hugging. 'It's weird,' she says, 'but I don't hate it.'

'Maybe we can do this more back home. One hug a week.'

She grimaces. 'Month.'

He laughs. 'Deal. Let's go.'

They go into the diner. The manager tries to argue that it's not open yet, that Santana isn't working today, but they placate him and go into the cupboard. They take one last look out before locking their hands together and closing the door.

Sorry to leave it there! But I promise I am still writing - should be 2 more chapters now. Still feeling v broken all the time yay work but this is cheering me up and I hope it's doing the same for you.

PS every time someone comments it makes me cry a little bit, thank you chickens it has been a long year and I still love this fandom with all my heart x