A/N: Hello and welcome back! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me this far. It's hard to believe that we're nearing the end. So this chapter was...very unexpected for me. I didn't know what I was going to do with it but I knew that I needed a chapter to just let our characters sit in the emotion, ya know? And so I wrote this. And I have to admit, I sort of love it. I hope you do too. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee

Chapter 16

"We'll be in touch," Darla said with a saccharine smile that was painfully stretched across her face. She shut the door and heaved a gigantic sigh.

"We most certainly will not be in touch," Kurt said, standing to pace around the studio like a caged animal. He raked his fingers through his hair, completely exasperated. "Who comes to an interview at a dance school and thinks that 8 years experience as a bus driver would qualify them!"

Darla laughed, her voice sounding reed thin and tired, "Well, at least it's better than the girl we had earlier who asked if her boyfriend could 'hang in the lobby while I work'." She placed heavy air quotes around that, rolling her eyes.

Kurt huffed out a laugh because if he didn't, he just might cry. And not like, stoic, beautiful cry. Like ugly, weepy, snotty cry. Darla had been steadily collecting applications over the last few weeks, knowing that eventually Kurt would require a successor. But now their timeline had been moved up and here they were, on a Friday night, after the school had closed, having interview after interview with not a promising prospect in sight. Some dark part of Kurt thrilled with this, enjoying the fact that he'd leave behind a hole, a tangible memory that he was here, and he had mattered to this town. He had serviced it.

Weary as they were, they gathered their things, duffle bags hoisted up on shoulders and locked the school up, diving into the warm, soupy air of early evening.

"You coming home or going straight to Blaine's?" Darla asked, pausing before walking toward her car.

"Blaine's." Kurt replied, feeling too exhausted to speak in full sentences. Something about interacting with so many weirdos, one after another, really took it out of you.

Darla nodded, soft smile on her lips. "You boys have a good night then." She hugged Kurt loosely and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Kurt drove to Blaine's loft in silence, not even the radio on for background. All he wanted was to collapse into Blaine, feel those strong arms around him and that warm breath on his neck. The scratch of his stubble and the rumble of his chuckle, deep, deep in his chest reverberating into his own.

But when he rolled up the driveway and put his car in park, the garage door was closed. Kurt cautiously approached it, almost afraid he'd find it locked. Which of course it wasn't, because that would just be preposterous. To lock a door when you're not home. Ugh, he really needed to talk to Blaine about this. But once again, Blaine's faith in his small town safety worked in Kurt's favor as he edged the door up and ducked underneath, allowing the door to fall shut behind him quietly.

The garage was dark. And even though he knew Blaine wasn't home - no lights on, no truck in the driveway - Kurt called, "Blaine?" Only to be met with silence.

He clonked up the stairs, dropping his duffle at the foot of the bed and peeling his clothes off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. He stepped into a steaming hot shower, absolutely too much for the temperature outside. The summer heat still clung to his skin and as the steam billowed around him, filling the bathroom, Kurt felt like he might pass out. But it felt too good on his muscles as he used Blaine's body wash to clean the sweat from himself.

He stepped out, drying off thoroughly before returning to the bed and falling back on it dramatically. He stared at the ceiling, feeling utterly spent and lonely. He imagined this would be how he'd feel tomorrow, after round two of interviews.

Blaine's small, one off jobs kept popping up left and right. It seemed random, how one second they'd be relaxing on the couch or tangled up in bed and then all of a sudden, Blaine was pulling on his jeans and grabbing a bottle of water and telling Kurt he had to rebalance someone's ceiling fan or unclog a drain or change the hardware on some kitchen cabinets. And it all felt false and fake and like Blaine just didn't want to be around him anymore. Like he was preparing for the inevitable end. Which, really if Kurt thought about it, made a whole lot of sense. In the long run, it would save them both a lot of pain, he supposed. But in the short run (if that's even a thing) it really sucked.

What made it all the more confusing was that when Blaine was with him? Like, physically in the same space? He was anything but distant. He was sweet and attentive and wore those fucking heart eyes when he wasn't busy smirking and Kurt and teasing him like normal.

Kurt heaved a sigh, rolling his neck from side to side. He just couldn't get a read on the situation but hey, wasn't that just the theme of his life right now? And who doesn't love a good theme?

The garage door rumbled up, a sound that was loud, even at its quiet-est. "Kurt?" Blaine called, as if there could literally be anyone else here.

"Hey," Kurt said, knowing his voice sounded haggard and spent because he was not in the mood, nor did he have the energy to peddle any false advertising tonight.

Blaine jogged up the stairs, ever the energetic young man that he was. "Hey," he said as his eyes landed on a very naked Kurt, laid out on the bed. His voice was soft and Kurt could fucking hear the way he knew his eyes must be crinkling with his smile. He didn't even have to look at him to know that. "Sorry I'm late, Cliff and Jo had me sketching up plans for a possible kitchen remodel and I lost track of time."

"Where are the sketches?" Kurt asked, a little bit of an aggressive bite to his voice. He winced a bit but didn't retract his question.

"Oh," Blaine said, sounding a little startled, "I uh...I guess I must have left them at their place." His chuckle sounded a little forced and shaky.

If they had more time, Kurt would sit up. He'd sit up and look Blaine in the eye and question him some more. He'd demand answers. He'd demand the truth. But they had 2 weeks left. So instead, Kurt found a genuine smile somewhere deep inside him and said, "I'm just glad you're here."

And he wasn't lying. And what did it even matter if Blaine lied to him for the last couple weeks? It was all ending anyways.

Kurt woke early the next morning, eyes blurrily focusing on the new light. He rolled over, only to find he couldn't with Blaine's arms wound tightly around him. Blaine snuffled a little bit, Kurt's favorite Saturday morning noise. Gently, he untangled himself from his prison of arms and started a pot of coffee. He tapped his foot anxiously, waiting for it to brew and found himself unable to sit still.

Kurt loved the mornings normally, loving how silent and barren the world could be in the early hours of the day. But recently, that silence seemed to suffocate him. It pumped him full of adrenaline that made sitting still difficult and sent his mind into an absolute spiral. Part of him wanted to shake Blaine awake just to not feel so alone and nervous, but what would he even say? What words could he possibly speak to make any of it better? To quell his anxiety?

So instead, he grabbed his phone from his - from the bedside table and padded his way downstairs to the dark garage. He sat back in the corner of the L-shaped workbench, dragging the stool out to perch on. He felt contained here and dialled the only person he expected to be up before the sun.

"Hello? Kurt?" A hopeful voice answered quickly.

Kurt felt a foreign smile stretch across his lips. "Hi Carol,"

"Oh hon, it's so good to hear from you!" Carol said, sounding absolutely overjoyed.

"How was the cruise?" Kurt asked.

"Oh it was fabulous. I drank so many mai tais I may have put on a couple of pounds," she giggled, "but it was wonderful. I made your dad take a ton of pictures, so I'll email those to you or something."

"Sounds great. So when did you get back?"

"Oh, only a couple nights ago. But enough about me! How are you? How's Darla? How's physical therapy? How's-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there," Kurt chuckled. God, he loved this woman.

Carole chuckled as well and took a deep breath, "Right. So." he could hear the softness in her eyes, "How are you?"

It hit Kurt like a truck. It hit him like a fist square in the solar plexus. It hit him like a denial letter from your dream school, like the death of your childhood pet. It hit him like a broken heart. "I um…" His voice wavered, "I don't know Carole. I just...I don't fucking know."

"Oh sweetie, talk to me," Carole cooed, the only sound in this silent world.

So he did. He told her about the school and the kids. He told her about Doug and Jo and Cliff. He told her about Ray and Bev and all the dance moms. And then he told her about Blaine. He told her about how he was his best friend and now he was...he was so much more. He told him about how he called him Hummel, and how he had the softest curls. He stayed away from waxing too poetically about his soft lips or broad shoulders, but he knew she could hear beyond his words. He knew that she heard what he wasn't saying.

He felt like he'd been talking for hours by the time he lost all energy and sighed. "I worked my whole life to be exactly where I am. In New York, working as a professional dancer. And you and dad spent all that money to help me get there. I can't...I can't turn my back on that."

"Hon, the money doesn't matter." Carole said firmly, "What do you want?"

"I want Blaine. And I want New York." He said as plainly as possible. "I can't have both. And I refuse to give up my lifelong dream for a guy." No matter how perfect he is.

Carole hummed, seeing the dilemma. "Well," she said slowly, "as long as you do what makes you happy, I suppose you can't go too wrong."

Kurt shrugged even though she couldn't see it. A sad smile pulled at his mouth. "I don't think it's going to be that easy. I think...I think no matter what I do, I'll still end up a little heartbroken."

They sat in silence for long enough, words useless at this point, that Kurt finally thanked Carole and told her that he'd call soon.

After he hung up, he quietly ascended the stairs. He sat at the kitchen island, cup of coffee in hand. He watched the light strengthen in the loft and the slow rise and fall of Blaine's chest.

He was so tired of being sad. He was so tired of missing Blaine when he was right there. He was tired of wondering what Blaine was hiding from him. He just wanted to feel like he could breathe again.

"I can hear you thinking over there." Blaine said, voice rough from sleep. Kurt startled, barely avoiding sloshing his coffee onto his hand. He saw bright hazel eyes peeking out from a mountain of blankets.

Kurt smiled, hoping it didn't look sickly. Blaine's face told him that it did.

"Hey," Blaine said as he lifted up the blankets, "Come here."

Kurt didn't even hesitate as he set his untouched coffee down on the island and crawled up the bed, under the covers. The white sheets seemed to glow on the inside as the sunlight filtered through the thin cotton. He met Blaine up by the pillows in their little gossamer cave.

"Hey," Kurt whispered. Something about being under the covers made him feel like he should speak softly. Reverent, as if he were in a church or a library.

"Hey," Blaine said with a smile, also whispering. He bumped his nose up against Kurt's nuzzling him lightly. "Why are you up so early?"

"Anxious." Kurt said honestly. One should not lie in this stuffy sanctuary.

"Why?"

"Cause."

"Cause why?"

"Cause stuff." Kurt said petulantly, a little smile pulling at his face.

"Ohhh, stuff. I see." Blaine said, nodding his head seriously with a smile barely concealed in his eyes.

They lapsed back into silence, long enough for them to recycle their little air supply a time or two.

Blaine reached a hand out and softly cupped Kurt's face, his thumb reaching out to rub across his cheekbone. Back and forth, back and forth, soothing as can be. "What do you want to do today?" He asked quietly.

"You don't have any jobs today?" He asked, locking wide, honest eyes with Blaine, making sure to convey that he wasn't trying to be bitchy.

Blaine just smiled and said, "Nope. I'm all yours today."

Kurt nodded and brought his hand up to keep Blaine's in place, even though he hadn't hinted at moving it. "I don't know. Breakfast?"

Blaine leaned forward and kissed Kurt softly. "That's a good start," He whispered before kissing Kurt again. And again. And then one more time that turned into silly little pecks all over Kurt's cheeks and forehead and neck until he pulled a squealing giggle from Kurt's lips.

Kurt thrashed about, shattering their club house and feeling lighter. Still laughing, Kurt got out of bed to reclaim his now drinkable coffee and poured another mug for Blaine.

Determined to enjoy their Saturday together, Kurt leaned his hip on the counter and looked at Blaine, smile still ghosting over his face. "So I came up with the brilliant idea of breakfast, but what else should we do today?"

"We could go for a drive? You mentioned that once, wanting to just go for a drive." Blaine supplied.

Kurt smiled and kissed him on the lips. "Perfect."

They drove over to the local coffee shop to pick up better coffee - "You know, something that doesn't taste like dirt water. Something sweeter. Somethin-" "Something like a grande non-fat mocha?" "...You know my coffee order?" - and some muffins.

"Kurt? Is that you?" Kurt turned to see Bev peeking her head in the front door, clearly having seen him from the sidewalk. Her grin grew huge and only slightly predatory. "Oh darlin' of course it's you! I'd know that fine ass anywhere."

Kurt didn't even blush down to his roots like he would have at the beginning of the summer. He merely smiled at her, having grown fond of the brash woman. "Hi Bev," he said smoothly as he leaned forward to give her a hug.

She pulled back and to his utter astonishment, her eyes shone with wetness. "So? Is it true? Are you really leavin' us?" She didn't sound angry. Just sad. And it broke Kurt's heart.

He nodded and cleared his throat before answering, hoping his voice wouldn't give out underneath him. "I leave at the end of the month," he said, even though he technically had to leave a few days earlier than that to allow for drive time, but he was not emotionally ready to plan the logistics of that nightmare trip. He did not want to think about how 3 weeks melted into 2 weeks which was basically code for a week and a half.

Bev nodded, more serious and somber than Kurt had ever seen her. She bit her bottom lip and lifted her ice blue eyes to his. "We sure are gonna miss you around here." And he knew she really meant it. "My little Suzie, especially." She choked out a little laugh and Kurt just couldn't hold back any longer. He swooped forward to scoop her into a hug. She clung to him tightly.

He held her until she stopped shaking. Until he was sure she wasn't going to cry. If Bev cried, he'd cry. Also, if Bev cried, they'd all be drowning in her runny mascara and no one wanted to see that.

She pulled away, wiping under her eyes quickly, trying to collect any messy makeup and laughing at herself breathily. "My oh my, I'm just a mess, aren't I?"

"You look beautiful," Kurt said with a smile.

She just rolled her eyes and swatted his shoulder, "Don't you go all soft on me now." She glanced at Blaine, who had been hovering quietly to the side, trying not to interrupt. She thrust a thumb at him, "Is it this one? This one making you go all soft?"

Kurt gazed over at Blaine with what he knew had to be the most lovesick, adoring expression and said, "Yeah. It's all his fault." They locked eyes and stared at one another until Bev just rolled her eyes again and gave Kurt another quick hug.

"Make sure you say goodbye before you leave." She whispered, squeezing his hands before leaving the coffee shop.

Kurt and Blaine collected their muffins and coffee and walked out to the truck.

"So," Blaine said after taking a sip of his disgusting medium drip. "I make you soft, huh?"

Kurt shoved him in the shoulder and Blaine just laughed, "Because I thought I made you hard?"

"Shut up and drive, Anderson." Kurt said through his laugh.

As often happens when operating without a plan, their drive took them far out of Cassville, down roads Kurt had never seen and Blaine had never travelled. The windows rolled down and the country western station playing on the radio softly, they spoke seldomly. They enjoyed the feeling of being weightless, their line having been cut from the real world and the heaviness that had settled inside them in Cassville. Today, they could be whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted.

And as often happens when driving errantly, they stumbled across exactly what they needed. Kurt, lost in his own world, his mind a warm blanket of fuzzy feelings, was startled when they pulled over slowly.

He quirked an eyebrow over at Blaine, suddenly remembering their first time hanging out, when Blaine had taken him to the swimming hole. "I didn't bring my swim trunks." Kurt joked.

Blaine laughed and opened his door. Wordlessly, Kurt followed. They walked away from the car, away from the road and into the woods. And yes, Kurt did consider singing something from the musical to lighten the mood, but he didn't because something felt vaguely significant about this moment. He supposed that sort of how everything felt when you put a time limit on things.

But when he tripped over a tree root and stumbled and nearly fell and Blaine caught him, eyes soft and warm and Kurt saw that goddamn everlasting smile that fucking lived on his face, he knew that Blaine would be significant even if they had all the time in the world.

They reached the edge of the tree line abruptly. But instead of a clearing with a swimming hole perched naturally in it, there was a railroad track. It was a narrow slash through the forest, just wide enough to accommodate a train with some room on each side for safety. Gravel coated the ground and Kurt wondered who brought it here, how they got it here, how long it had been here.

It seemed so unreal; this spot of civilization, surrounded by the lush green of nature. It was so quiet here. No distant train whistles, no possible Stand By Me moments looming in the future.

Blaine stepped up on the track, walking the tightrope of the rail. After a few smooth steps, he held out a hand to Kurt. Kurt just smiled, looking up and down the tracks as if a train would just sneak up on them and grabbed the invitation. They walked, each on a rail, hands intertwined between them, spanning the distance over the ties.

"This track," Blaine began after a while. "starts in Magnolia, Arkansas. Or maybe it's El Dorado, I can't remember but it's just a little more southern than Cassville. And it travels North East to Tennessee, cutting all the way across horizontally - the long way. Stops in Memphis, Nashville, ya know. The main attractions. And then it keeps travelling East but starts to go more north so it can go through Virginia, maayyybe a quick dip into West Virginia, maybe not, and then a tiny part of Maryland, so little you'd miss it if you blinked. Then Pennsylvania and possibly New Jersey - I'm sorry, I know how you feel about New Jersey." Blaine paused, squeezing Kurt's hand and finally taking his eyes off of the sobriety test of the rail and looking at Kurt. "And then New York."

Kurt was stunned, stopping in his tracks - heh - and looking up and down the rails again, as if trying to see all the states Blaine had just mentioned. As if he could see the trip, all the hours it would take and how it could make the world a smaller place. "Wow," he breathed, eyes brimming with tears, "This track really reaches all the way to New York?"

A pause and then, "I don't fucking know, Hummel. It could." Blaine shrugged.

A laugh sputtered out of Kurt, "Did you just make that up?"

"One hundred percent." Blaine said immediately. "But, you have to admit it was pretty romantic."

"And a little sociopathic."

"But only a little, so it's mostly romantic, right?"

Kurt laughed again, shaking his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man who would do anything to make him smile. He pulled gently on their still joined hands until Blaine met him on the old wooden ties and he kissed him. Slow and sweet and fully. Kurt cradled that precious face in his hands and kissed him until his smile became too big to successfully continue.

"But honestly, Hummel. I just want you to know that...we may be far apart but we'll never not be connected." Blaine said it with such confidence. No glancing up through his lashes, bashful and uncertain. He stood close to Kurt, refusing to let them separate. Before Kurt could respond, Blaine continued, "I know...I don't want this to be an all or nothing situation. Like...it's already hard enough. So, while I know we can't be like together together after this I just...I will always be your friend."

Kurt let some of those unshed tears shed. He tugged on Blaine's friendship bracelet, still tight on his wrist if not a little faded from sweat and water and sun. "Best friend. You will always be my best friend."

Blaine nodded and tugged on Kurt's bracelet in return. "And you'll always be mine."

Kurt scoffed, hastily wiping his tears away; he was so tired of crying. "I better be. I watched baseball for you! I, Kurt Hummel, watched sports for you!"

Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt again, "Such a team player,"

"Did...did you just make a sports joke right now? In my moment of strife? I'm basically having an identity crisis and you're over here making jokes."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you for your service."

"...now you're just patronizing me."

And on it went as they followed the tracks like they would actually lead them somewhere. Maybe they actually went to New York. Maybe not. Maybe they went somewhere where time wouldn't be able to find them.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and don't forget to review, follow, favorite or maybe all three! I'll see ya'll next time!