Happy Wednesday!

Guys, guys, guys. This story is ending. Can you believe that this story is ending? I can't. I'm kind of freaking out about it. And I'm also very happy that you all seem to be enjoying it. That was the goal. My work is done. Now you just need to like the last couple of chapters and that's it. So thank you for all the support and lovely comments so far. It's been so fun writing and sharing this.

Thank you to Christine for her endless help and hard work to make me learn grammar rules and proper English spelling. I can't believe she hasn't quit on me after a decade. I love her. She's a saint.

Hope you like this chapter!

It was well past midnight by the time the penthouse was cleared of cops. Puckerman had long ago been escorted out in handcuffs. Santana had arrived less than an hour ago, and immediately made a fresh pot of coffee. It looked like it was going to be a long night for all of them. It had already been.

Kurt and Blaine had been sitting on the couch for a little while now, unwilling to move. Blaine was tucked closely to Kurt's side and, if Kurt was being honest, he wasn't looking forward to letting go any time soon. He was going to keep his arm around his husband all day every day, if he could. He didn't like what happened to him when they weren't together.

The bruise on his face spread down his cheekbone to his jaw. Kurt knew it had to have been a hell of a punch to leave such a mark. Just looking at it made his blood boil and made him wish he had kept punching Puckerman. He deserved it, the bastard.

"We should have given Puckerman more credit," Santana said, sitting on the armchair opposite them, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. "He was capable of more than we thought. It turned out he was a lot more patient and disciplined than we anticipated. He actually took the time to gain Cooper's trust and work his way up in his company so he would have a chance to destroy both him and you."

"We took him for a common thug with enough brains for industrial espionage and didn't even think he could be behind everything else," Kurt said. He was angry at himself. He should have known sooner. He should have known better. Then he could have avoided all of this.

"Why did he set out to hurt Cooper and not you, though?" Santana asked. "After all, both of you were involved in his brother's death."

"Cooper was easier to get to," Kurt replied. "He told the police he had planned to get to me later on, maybe through my family, but first he was intent on destroying Anderson Unlimited from within, so there was nothing left of Cooper."

Blaine moved uncomfortably against him. "Our marriage must have been a nice surprise, then."

"Yes. We basically gave him an easier, more direct way to get to me." Kurt sighed and tightened his arm around Blaine. There wasn't even an inch between them, and still Kurt felt like they weren't close enough.

"And assuming you only married Blaine to get control of Anderson Unlimited gave him the perfect excuse for his plans tonight. He thought he could set up the scene and get away with it," Santana said.

Kurt's mouth twisted. "No one gives me credit for being a true romantic, do they?"

Blaine looked up at him from the curve of his arm. "Be fair, Kurt. How could Puckerman or anyone else know that I was the one who pushed for a marriage of convenience? Everyone assumed that us getting married was your idea. And they also assumed you had your reasons. Business reasons."

Santana's eyebrows rose but she made no comment. She seemed to decide it was better to change the subject. "What about Wally Thorpe? Do we know what happened to him?"

"He's dead," Kurt replied quietly. "Puckerman told the police where to find the body during the interrogation."

He felt Blaine shivering against him. There had been enough grim conversations tonight. Maybe it was time to put all of this behind them.

"What about Cooper?" Santana asked. "Did Puckerman give the police any new information?"

Blaine didn't say anything. Kurt guessed he couldn't.

"No. He just confirmed he had Thorpe tamper with the plane so the engine would fail halfway through the trip," Kurt explained. The confirmation that it hadn't been an accident had been a hard blow for Blaine. His sweet husband was a lot more hopeful and positive than Kurt had been in years. But that hope had finally started to fade, and it pained Kurt to see it. "He had no way of knowing what happened afterwards. The plane went down in the middle of the ocean, and that's it."

He leaned his head to kiss Blaine's temple, a poor comfort amongst the disappointment and the grief.

Santana's eyes were surprisingly soft when she looked at Blaine. "I'm really sorry."

"Thank you," Blaine whispered, so quietly it was barely audible.

She put her coffee cup down and stood up. "I'm going to give you some privacy. It was a long night, so you must be tired. Let me know if you need me."

Kurt nodded. "Thank you, Santana."

They were silent as they heard her steps growing more and more distant, and then the front door closing behind her. They were silent a little while longer after that, like they couldn't find the right words to fill it. And then Blaine simply shifted, turning fully on his side so he pressed himself closer to Kurt and bury his face in the crook of his neck. He was breathing raggedly, like he was fighting the urge to cry.

Kurt rubbed his back. "It's okay, Blaine. Everything will be okay."

But he knew that wasn't a promise that was his to keep.

"I don't want to think about it," Blaine muttered brokenly. "I don't want to have to deal with it. I don't want to have to plan a funeral with an empty grave for my big brother. I don't want to…"

"Ssh, hey, okay. It's okay," Kurt repeated soothingly. He cupped Blaine's face with his hands and made him look up at him. "We'll deal with it together. But we don't have to do anything else tonight. I think it's been a long day already. It's more than enough."

Blaine nodded and Kurt wiped at the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes with his thumbs, very gently. The anguish on Blaine's hazel eyes threatened to break Kurt's usually icy heart.

"I still want to believe he's okay" Blaine whispered. "But it's worthless, isn't it? He's not going to come back."

"I don't know, sweetheart," Kurt admitted sadly. "I don't know if it's worthless. I wish I could go out there and find him for you, but…"

"But he's gone," Blaine said, voice cracking. "Cooper's gone."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. He wiped the fresh tears away, too. "I'm so sorry. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need me to do."

"Unless you can turn back time and get him not to board that plane, I don't think there's anything you can do."

Kurt held him tightly and let him cry against his shoulder. He didn't say that Cooper's disappearance, despite being a tragedy, had brought him the biggest joy he had known in years, which had been to marry him. He knew it wasn't going to make Blaine any less upset. He was never going to be enough of a consolation prize after losing Cooper.

"Let's go to bed," he said softly. "You need to rest."

But Blaine didn't get much sleep that night. Kurt held him through it and wished he was more than he was. He wished he could be enough.

In the darkness, Blaine's hands searched for the skin under his pajamas. His touch was needy, urgent, desperate.

"Kurt," he muttered. "I don't want to think. Help me not to think?"

And Kurt wasn't going to reject him, wasn't going to pass on the opportunity to touch Blaine, to make sure he was really there, solid and safe and real, because he realized he didn't know how many more times like this they had left. His fingers grazed the edge of his wedding band, and Kurt wanted to feel it on Blaine's finger forever, didn't want to see the lightened line of skin underneath, didn't want to see Blaine's hand naked without it.

They had had an expiration date right from the beginning, and Kurt was just starting to believe it. Part of him had thought he could make this permanent. Blaine said he loved him, why wouldn't this last forever?

Was love going to be enough when Kurt didn't think he had much to offer in return?

The next morning, they woke up late, the sun already bright through the curtains, and they didn't make any attempts to get out of bed. They weren't in a hurry. It was as if the world had somehow stopped turning for them the previous night.

Blaine had his head on Kurt's chest. His heart was thumping against his ear, and he focused on it, on its rhythm, like it was the only thing keeping him sane. Kurt had one hand on the back of his head, fingers buried in his crazy morning curls, the other one tracing the line of his spine, up and down, up and down, up and down again.

Blaine kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to open them. He knew he was in some sort of denial. He didn't care.

Kurt's lips were suddenly pressed to the top of his head. His voice was still sleep-rough when he murmured: "What are you going to do now?"

Blaine sighed, burrowed even closer to the warmth of Kurt's naked body. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'll take it one day at a time, I guess."

Another kiss, this time to his temple. "That sounds like a pretty smart idea, if you ask me."

"What are you going to do?" Blaine asked quietly.

"I'm going to be here," Kurt replied, hand stilling on the small of his back, pressing him closer, almost possessively. "I'm going to be here for each and every one of those days."

Blaine kept his eyes closed. If he opened them, he thought he was going to slip away. He didn't want to slip away.

He held his husband and hoped that would be enough to keep him steady.

The plan to take things one day at a time was effective. Blaine got up, had breakfast, went to work, came home to Kurt, had dinner, they went to bed. Each step was conducted perfectly, like everything would fall apart if Blaine didn't follow through on one of them. He was aware of the way everyone looked at him: Kurt, like he was always ready to catch him before he stumbled and fell; Santana, like he was a ticking time bomb and she wanted to be able to control the blast once it went off; Tina, with pity in her eyes and a sad smile on her face.

The worst of all was telling Joanna.

"No," she said firmly. "No. Cooper's not dead. He is not dead, Blaine. We both know that."

"Joanna…" Blaine said, reaching for her hand, but she pulled it away and pressed it to her growing bump.

"He's going to be here any day now. He's going to be here to see his child and to marry me and…" she stopped, choking on a sob that clawed its way up her throat. "Don't lose hope. I can't keep going alone. Everything is possible as long as we both believe."

There was too much evidence to keep hoping, but Blaine nodded anyway. He didn't want to upset her any more than it was necessary.

Deep down inside, he wanted to keep believing. He didn't want to live in a world where Cooper wasn't alive. But it took so much strength, so much bravery to keep believing, and Blaine was exhausted. He wasn't sure if he had any energy left to hope.

All of his energy was needed to pretend that everything was alright.

Every night, Blaine still joined him in the study while he worked, and they drank tea. He had stopped asking questions about Anderson Unlimited: he seemed satisfied enough that the company was doing well. But Kurt still appreciated his company, even if Blaine had become a dimmer version of himself lately.

"You know," Blaine murmured, eyes fixed on his tea cup, and Kurt glanced up from the computer screen at once, all his attention on his husband. "Everything's been so crazy lately that I didn't realize it's almost Thanksgiving. It's very last minute and most people probably have plans already, but maybe we should do something."

Kurt studied him quietly for a second or two, and then said softly: "Blaine, I don't think anyone would be upset if you decide it's better to skip the holiday. I think everyone would understand."

"I think I want to, though," Blaine said, hazel eyes going up to Kurt. There was something so sad, a little desperate, but also resigned about him. Kurt wanted to go around his desk and wrap his arms around him. "Maybe we should be with family, now more than ever."

Kurt realized he didn't have to fight the urge. Blaine was his husband. He could hold him if he needed it, if he wanted it. He stood up and made his way towards him. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and placed his hand on Blaine's knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "What did you have in mind?"

"I could cook," Blaine shrugged. "We could have Carole, Finn, Rachel and Joanna over. We could… we could have a normal day, for a change. Sit down for dinner, like a family."

Kurt thought it would be too easy to notice the empty seats at the table – he always did notice his dad's absence, despite the fact that it had been years since he passed away. But it would be painfully obvious for Blaine for the very first time.

However, there was something hopeful and a little eager in Blaine's face, like he had found the perfect distraction, the perfect way out, the perfect way to stop paying attention to the grief that was taking over him.

He grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled on it until he stood up. Kurt then sat down on the armchair and pulled him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist to keep him in place. He kissed the back of his neck and felt him shiver slightly against him.

"That sounds like a great idea, Blaine," he said with a little smile.

Blaine's shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned against his chest. They stayed like that until the tea had gone cold.

On Thanksgiving, Blane started in the kitchen early. He was determined to make today a good day – it was his first holiday as a married man, and even if his marriage was unusual, it was still a big deal. Their family was coming over and everything would be picture perfect, and for once there wouldn't be reasons to be sad or be upset or…

He knew he would miss Cooper with a blinding ache today, but he ignored that. He could smile. He could have a good time. Everything was going to be okay.

Santana, who had helped him with the grocery shopping the previous day, soon appeared in the kitchen, insisting on lending him a hand.

"No, no, no," Blaine said. "You don't have to work today, Santana. It's a holiday. Consider it a day off."

"It's okay, Mr. Hummel-Anderson," she said softly. She stubbornly stood at the counter and started peeling potatoes. "I don't have any plans today, I can help you."

Blaine frowned as she looked at her. "What do you mean you don't have plans? You're spending Thanksgiving with us. I thought it was obvious."

Santana blinked at him. "I… I don't want to impose. You'll have family over."

"Santana, don't be silly," Blaine said with a little smile. "You're part of the family. Of course you're eating with us."

He thought Santana's eyes looked brighter than usual, but Blaine decided to look away and pretend he hadn't notice. She didn't seem like the kind of person who liked being vulnerable in front of others.

No wonder she and Kurt got along so well.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel-Anderson," she said very quietly.

"You're welcome," he replied. "And I think you should just call me Blaine, don't you? Otherwise it can get a little confusing."

She simply nodded, like she wasn't sure what else to say.

They chatted amicably as they worked, stopping every now and then for a cup of coffee. Kurt was upstairs in the greenhouse, trying to fix the mess that the fight with Puckerman had left behind. He had had to start over, after having lost every single orchid. He didn't seem to mind, though. He was a very patient man.

Blaine was just slipping the turkey into the oven when the doorbell rang. He looked up at the clock on the wall in confusion: no, time hadn't flown away from him. It was still too early for their guests to arrive. Blaine was still in his pajamas, hair a mess of curls.

He exchanged a look with Santana. "We did tell them what time they should be here, right?"

"I think so, yeah," she murmured. She wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth. "I'll go see who it is…"

Blaine let her take care of it as he started to work on the first of the pies he wanted to make. He opened the fridge and started gathering the ingredients. Cooper's favorite had always been pecan pie, and Blaine felt like he had to make one, even if Cooper wasn't going to be there to eat it…

"Hi, little brother."

For a moment, Blaine thought the memories and the longing were taking over, making him hear echoes of the past. But it sounded too close to be a memory, too real to be a dream. He turned around and saw that Cooper was standing at the kitchen doorway, Joanna holding onto his arm for dear life with tears in her eyes, Santana behind them, looking almost as stunned as he felt.

"Cooper?" He whispered, voice shaking.

He looked skinnier, face a little sunken, stubble on his cheeks. A wind could have knocked him off his feet. But he was smiling, blue eyes shining, and he was every bit his older brother.

Blaine dropped the carton of eggs, hands too unsteady to hold them anymore, but he couldn't bring himself to care about the mess on the floor. He skipped right past it and practically launched himself into his brother's arms. He was real. He was here.

"You're here," he said, because he needed to say the words in order to believe them. "You're here."

"I am," Cooper muttered, arms tightening around him. "I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry I made you worry."

Blaine buried his face in his brother's shoulder. He was on the verge of crying and his legs were going to give out any second now. But he refused to let go. He was worried that, if he let go, Cooper would simply disappear again.

Cooper's fingers were digging in his back, like he, too, was trying to make sure that Blaine was right here. Blaine was vaguely aware of Santana leaving the kitchen. She returned a couple of minutes later, Kurt in tow, wiping the dirt from his hands with a rag.

They almost had to force Blaine to let go long enough to move the reunion to the living room. Santana promised to keep an eye on the food so nothing would get ruined, and the rest of them sat down on the couch, Joanna and Blaine on each side of Cooper like they were going to shield him for the rest of his life to make sure he never got away from them again.

"It's incredible," Kurt commented, looking at Cooper like he was seeing a ghost. "How the hell did you manage to survive? Everyone said it was impossible."

"Well, I always hated flying, so I had my survival kit with me," Cooper explained. "The kit includes an inflatable boat. I managed to grab it before the plane went down."

"Are you telling us you were adrift in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on an inflatable boat?" Kurt asked, like he couldn't quite believe what he heard.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. I have no idea how long I was out there. Days sort of blend together, and let me tell you, nights in the open ocean are fucking terrifying," Cooper said. He seemed to be enjoying being the center of attention, which just proved he was alright. "It all gets so dark, you can't see anything. I ran out of food and water pretty quickly, too. So I was a little out of it when a cargo ship found me. I had a high fever, and I slipped in and out of consciousness for a while. When I finally felt well enough to communicate, it turned out that they had encountered a pretty bad storm that messed up their communication equipment and couldn't call the mainland, so I had no way to let anyone know I was okay. But they were coming to New York, so I just needed to be patient. They dropped me off very early this morning."

"But you're okay?" Blaine asked, because that was what mattered the most to him right now. "You're not hurt."

"Nope. I'm fine. Just in need of a good meal and some rest," Cooper replied, and smiled reassuringly at his little brother. "I expect Hollywood will come knocking at my door for the rights of my life story. Who do you think should play me? He has to be devastatingly handsome…"

Blaine laughed and cried at the same time. His brother really was okay. The nightmare was finally over. "You idiot."

"We're all so very happy that you're alive and well," Kurt said sincerely.

"Me too," Cooper nodded solemnly. He then looked up at him. "But my question here is, how the hell did you end up marrying my little brother?"

"Oh." For the first time since Blaine knew him, Kurt looked almost sheepish. "That's a long story."

"I have time," Cooper said. His tone was pleasant, but there was an edge of something else there, the protectiveness peeking through. He had always defended his little brother. He was clearly worried he hadn't been there to take care of him.

"It was my idea," Blaine said, patting his brother's hand reassuringly. "I needed help to keep the company afloat while you were gone. Kurt has been a tremendous ally. He's done an outstanding job."

Cooper hummed, eyes still on Kurt. "Mm. And it's that all you did?"

"Coop, come on, don't be a jerk," Blaine said, nudging him gently. It looked like a strong wind could knock him to the ground. "I don't know what I would have done without Kurt. He saved Anderson Unlimited. And he saved me."

Blaine smiled at his husband and found Kurt looking back, his lips curled up slightly in a smile, too, but there was something wistful, almost sad about it.

"We have a lot to celebrate, then," Cooper said before Blaine could say anything else.

"Definitely," Joanna grinned.

It was a happier Thanksgiving than any of them had anticipated.

Much, much later, after everyone had gone home, bellies full and hearts even fuller, Blaine dragged Kurt to bed. He felt lighter, happier, freer. He felt as if he could breathe again for the very first time after someone had held his head underwater. He felt as if he could touch the sky with the tips of his fingers.

They made love over and over and over again, until their bodies were too spent to keep going. Skin still sticky with sweat and come, they held each other in the moonlight, catching their breaths. Blaine wondered if it was possible to be so happy you could float away. He certainly felt like he was seconds away from levitating right off the bed. Only Kurt's arms around him, hand settled on the curve of his ass, kept him in place.

Blaine sighed contently. He kissed the middle of Kurt's chest. "I'm so ridiculously happy, Kurt."

"I'm glad," Kurt murmured. There was a pause, and then he said, as he tightened his hold around Blaine just slightly: "It looks like you don't need my help to save Anderson Unlimited anymore."

"Nope," Blaine said. He traced a circle around the spot he had just kissed. "I'm sure Coop will need a few days to get back on his feet – he looks awfully thin, doesn't he? – and then he'll take charge of his company again."

Kurt grabbed his hand to stop the motion. "Blaine…"

"Yes?"

His face was serious. "When you came to me with your plan to save the company, you told me you would file for divorce when Cooper was back."

Blaine avoided his eyes. He suddenly felt cold all over. "Oh. Did I?"

"Yes."

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, I think you said you were okay with the arrangement…" Blaine said carefully, still not daring to look at him.

Kurt exhaled very slowly. He cupped Blaine's face in one hand and lifted his chin a bit, just enough so Blaine would have no choice but to finally look him in the eye. "I'm not. I don't want a divorce."

Blaine levered himself up on his elbow. He felt hope spreading in his chest like the petals of one of Kurt's beloved orchids. "Really? Are you serious?"

"Very serious," Kurt replied, searching his face for signs that they were on the same page.

Blaine smiled, unable to stop himself. "Kurt, are you telling me that you want our marriage to be a real one?"

Kurt scoffed. "I've been telling you all along that our marriage was real."

Blaine made a quick gesture to dismiss that. "I know, I know, I just mean that we had both agreed it was a marriage of convenience. A marriage for business purposes."

Kurt brushed his fingers through Blaine's messy curls. "I married you because I wanted you from the very first time I saw you. If you hadn't proposed to me, I think I eventually would have done something to get your attention."

Blaine let a playful little smile appear on his lips. "I made it easier for you then." He shifted closer so he could pepper kisses all over Kurt's face, one after the other.

Kurt smiled up at him, too, through the storm of kisses. "Does this mean you want to make the marriage permanent, too?"

"Of course. There's nothing I want more," Blaine said. "And don't tell me you didn't know that. You know how I feel about you. It's rather obvious."

Kurt shrugged slightly. "I knew you were attracted to me. I knew we had great chemistry. But I wasn't sure if you'd want to stay married to me."

Blaine shook his head, disbelieving, but still smiling, like one of the things he didn't understand was how thick-headed his husband was. "How could you have doubted it? I love you, Kurt."

Kurt looked genuinely awed, like it was such a rare thing to him. "Yes," he whispered, almost reverently. "Yes, I believe you do." He smiled and kissed him, deep and passionate. "Oh, Blaine, you won't regret this, I swear."

"I know," Blaine mumbled against his lips. There was sudden uncertainty inside of him, settling in the pit of his stomach. "Kurt?"

He could already feel Kurt hardening again against his thigh, always eager, always ready for more, always hungry. Blaine felt light-headed just feeling him respond like that.

"Mm?"

Blaine lifted his head, effectively breaking the kiss, and glanced down at his husband. "You do love me, don't you? I've been trying to convince myself that you do, but you haven't actually said so."

Kurt froze, like that was the last thing he had expected Blaine to say. "Blaine?"

Blaine studied his face. "Yes?"

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, as if he needed a few seconds to find the right words. Blaine waited with bated breath, wondering if he would finally hear what he had been telling himself that Kurt felt for him…

When he opened his eyes again, the intensity in them was almost overwhelming. "I want you."

Blaine nodded briefly. "I know that."

Kurt tried again. "I care for you very much."

Blaine frowned. "I know that, too."

Kurt took a deep breath and said: "I'll take care of you for the rest of my days. You can trust me."

Blaine rolled away from him, putting some distance between their naked bodies. "I know that too, Kurt."

Very slowly, Kurt sat up and glanced down at him. "I'm trying to be very honest here, Blaine."

But Blaine had grown impatient. The uncertainty inside of him had become a little beast gnawing at him insistently. "Tell me you love me."

Kurt, frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. "You don't understand, Blaine. Everything I have is yours."

"I don't give a damn about that. I don't need anything. I want your love, Kurt. That's all you need to give me," Blaine replied.

This was the least in control Kurt had ever looked. He seemed to be on the edge of actually panicking. "I'm trying to explain something."

"What could you possibly be trying to explain? It's a rather simple matter, Kurt. You either love me or you don't." He was angry now, and a bit scared. He wanted Kurt, he wanted to have a life with him, but he didn't want to settle for a man who wouldn't give him what he wanted, what he needed, what he deserved. Even if Blaine loved him enough for the both of them.

"Blaine, please calm down," Kurt said, lifting his hands in front of him as if trying to appease a wild beast.

"Right. I need to calm down," Blaine muttered, upset. "Just because I'm asking my husband whether he loves me or not, I need to calm down. I don't think I'm asking much of a marriage, Kurt, if I want you to love me. I think it's the least I could ask of the man I married."

"Blaine…"

"I want a man who's brave enough to love me," Blaine said. He felt like his chest was cracking in two. "I won't settle for less."

He got out of bed and reached for his discarded clothes.

"I'm giving you all I have to give to a man," Kurt said, rather desperately. "Don't you understand? I'm giving you everything except those three words…"

"It's not about the words, Kurt. You're the one who doesn't understand," Blaine said as he quickly slipped into his clothes. "It's about what they mean. It's about what's behind them. You can't have a marriage if there isn't love in it."

Kurt got up, too. "What the hell are you doing?"

Blaine looked at him. He could barely hold the tears back. "I'm leaving you."

"It's four o'clock in the morning."

"It's the perfect time to walk out on an idiot, then," Blaine said, and grabbed his shoes. He didn't bother putting them on. He walked out of the room.

Kurt followed him and paused in the middle of the hallway when Blaine went into his own bedroom, the one he hadn't used all that much since he had moved in. "We have to talk about this. You can't just leave."

"There's only one thing you can say that could make me stay," Blaine said from inside the room. Drawers opened and closed, loud in the silence. When he walked back out, he had a small suitcase. "I'll send for the rest of my things later."

"Blaine, don't do this," Kurt said, going after him when Blaine started marching towards the front door. "You're being silly."

It was the wrong thing to say. Blaine dropped the suitcase in the middle of the foyer and turned around to face him, furious. "No. I'm not being silly. This is the first time in my life I ever ask for something for myself. This is the first time in my life I decide it's my turn to be a little selfish. I've always given and given and given, and with you? With you I want more, Kurt. And it's not because I'm being unfair to you. It's because I'm being fair to myself. And because I love you enough to want us to be better than everything I've known so far. If you can't understand that, then I don't think you're supposed to be my husband."

Kurt looked like he had punched him in the face. Blaine didn't pause. He didn't give himself time to regret his words. He knew he was right. He grabbed his suitcase again and opened the front door.

"If you want me back, you're going to have to swallow your goddamn pride and tell me you love me, Kurt Hummel. You're going to have to shout it from the rooftops," he said.

"It's Hummel-Anderson," Kurt corrected automatically.

"Not anymore," Blaine murmured brokenly, and he saw how much of a slap those words were. They hurt him too. But he needed to do this. "And before you wake up poor Santana and have her follow me in the middle of the night, just know I'll be going over to my brother's."

"Blaine…"

"Goodbye, Kurt."

Blaine left the building and got into a taxi. It only took a couple of blocks for him to realize there was a black car following them. Blaine did his best to ignore it.

He stood outside his brother's house and knocked the door. The taxi drove away but the black car parked down the block as he waited for Cooper to come to the door. It was Kurt behind the steering wheel, watching him, making sure he made it safely. It made it a little harder to hate him, but Blaine was certainly trying.

As soon as Cooper opened the door, Blaine noticed the car driving away. His brother was sleepy, wearing pajama pants that were now too big on him. He frowned, worried, when he saw him standing there.

"Blaine? What's wrong?"

"I've left Kurt," he explained miserably.

Joanna appeared right behind Cooper's shoulder. "Blaine? Are you alright?"

"No," Blaine replied. "I'm not okay."

Cooper pulled him into his arms and Blaine burst into tears.

You can't be mad at me for this ending because I GAVE YOU COOPER BACK. See? I don't always kill him.

God, I love Cooper Anderson.

Can't wait to hear all your thoughts on this chapter.

See you next Wednesday for the SECOND TO LAST ONE.

I can't stop screaming, apparently.

Have a great week!

L.-