It was just before Blaine's curfew when he turned the key in the door and tried to escape into his bedroom without being noticed. To his dismay, Hiram heard him and came out to investigate. "Blaine! Hey, how was the movie?"

He slowed to a stop. "Uh, it was good," he responded, purposely averting his face. "I'm just – really tired, so…"

He made a move to go, but Hiram called, "Hold on a moment, Blaine. There's something LeRoy and I want to talk with you about.' Blaine, stopped and, visibly annoyed, with brows furrowed together in a defiant expression, he turned to face Hiram.

The man's eyes widened. "Blaine, oh my god, what happened to your lip?" He moved in and reached a hand for Blaine's face, but the boy pulled out of reach.

"It's nothing."

Hiram frowned tightly. "LeRoy, come here, please," he called, loudly enough that he got Rachel's attention, too.

"Blaine, I want you to tell me right now – is that Puckerman kid bothering you again?" Hiram asked, his tone serious. LeRoy walked up with his hands on his hips and looked between Hiram and Blaine, but waited for Blaine's response to the perfectly reasonable question.

Blaine scoffed. "No, he isn't. I already said, it's nothing." Hiram crossed his arms over his chest and gave Blaine his best look.

LeRoy tried a less menacing approach. "Really, Blaine, if someone is giving you a hard time, you need to tell us. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."

Blaine rolled his eyes around the same time that Rachel poked her head into the room to find out what was going on. "I already told you. Nothing happened. I just – ran into a door frame, OK. It was stupid. Can I go now?"

LeRoy and Hiram exchanged looks, and LeRoy said, "Yes, you may. But Blaine?"

Blaine, who'd turned to walk away, stopped and turned back with a long-suffering expression on his face.

"We're on your side. Remember that."

Blaine's jaw tightened, and without so much as a nod of acknowledgment, he walked away, escaping into his room.

Hiram raised a questioning eyebrow at LeRoy.

"Well, at least he's finally acting like a normal teenager," he murmured, cracking a smile. Hiram's lip twitched.

"You're terrible."

They both turned to head back to the kitchen and found Rachel walking towards them. "What happened?" she asked, even though she'd caught the gist.

"Nothing sweetheart," Hiram said with a bright smile.

"Blaine just got hurt, that's all," LeRoy supplied.

"Yes, but he's fine. Not to worry," Hiram added.

They each kissed her on the cheek and headed past her into the kitchen.

The day of the wedding, Blaine buttoned his shirt, shrugged on his jacket and then set about the process of trying to tie the brown and honey-colored bowtie. After the third try, he opened up his laptop, pulled up a browser, and started to google for youtube tutorials.

He was halfway through watching one such video when there was a soft knock on the door. He pressed pause, the half-tied bowtie still in his hand, and moved to open the door.

As his bedroom door swung open, he found Rachel standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a red – or rather, "cognac"-colored dress. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant updo. She looked up and her eyes immediately found his lip. She winced. It wasn't nearly as puffy as it had been the previous day, but a bright red cut split his bottom lip.

"That looks…painful," she commented.

"It's fine," he said. "What do you need?" He moved out of her way and went back to the mirror. The bow in his hands sort of looked like it should, right up until he let go of the center of it and the two halves just fell apart. He cast a disgruntled look at the bowtie.

"Nothing I just – sort of wanted to apologize."

He said nothing, but raised his eyes and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Controlling as she was, she couldn't help but frown at the bowtie. "Here – why don't you let me…" She stepped forward and reached for the bowtie. Frankly, he was completely out of options at this point, and with an unhappy sigh, he handed it over.

"Have a seat," she commanded, and though he threw her a glowering look, he did as she asked, pulling over the desk chair and sitting down on it. With confident hands, she placed the tie around his neck, tied the ends together, and began looping one side, then pulled the other side up, around, under and through. She did a quick adjustment, and said, "There. Now just – go fix it."

He stood and moved to the mirror again. It looked like an actual bow this time, and Blaine couldn't help but feel a little impressed. "How'd you learn that?"

"My dads taught me when I was a little girl." She dropped down onto his bed. "They used to let me tie their bowties for big events or dinners."

"Oh, that's…sweet. I guess," said Blaine as he adjusted his collar over the tie and straightened the bow.

He turned, holding his jacket open and then closing and buttoning it. "So – how's it look?"

Rachel nodded and, in spite of herself gave him an appraising look. "Not bad, actually. The bowtie sort of – suits you." There was surprise in her tone because honestly, she hadn't expected it to.

"Look, Blaine, I've been doing a lot of thinking this week. Mostly about what you said about Kurt. And – you were right. All of us in New Directions weren't very good friends to him. You saw that and – I'm sorry for – what I said to you."

Blaine swallowed and took in her words. She left it there and raised her eyes to look at him. He sighed and nodded. "OK. Cool."

She nodded and smiled herself. "Cool," she confirmed. "Well, we'd better get going. Or the wedding's going to start without us. She headed out of Blaine's bedroom and the teen boy took one last moment to grab his phone, wallet, and keys and check his hair – one last time – before he went jogging after her.

"Looking good, Blaine," LeRoy said with a smile. Blaine smiled in spite of himself, which pulled painfully on the thin scab.

He slid smoothly into the backseat of the Prius next to Rachel and together, the entire family headed for the church.

The ceremony was like none Blaine had ever seen (even if his only exposure had been weddings on TV or in movies). The singing was spectacular and for a brief moment, he felt happy – the sort of happy he'd felt as a kid, singing in the kitchen with his mother. The voices of the entire show choir blended beautifully and the effect vibrated in his chest.

But then, Mr. H started to speak, and Blaine felt the heaviness, which the song had briefly lifted, resettling over his heart. He knew what it was to lose a mother. Surreptitiously, he glanced at the two men seated beside him, then back at Burt Hummel. It wasn't the same – not by a long-shot – but even Blaine could appreciate that things could have turned out worse for him than ending up with the Berrys.

As the 5 minute ceremony ended abruptly, Blaine stood when everyone else did, then followed his fathers – Hiram and LeRoy – out of the church. The rehearsal was almost more surprising than the wedding, though, and the speech Finn made had Blaine seriously thinking that maybe he'd misjudged Finn. Maybe he wasn't a total asshole all the time.

Hiram and LeRoy got up to go dance with everyone else and Blaine sat back in his seat. His table was set about as far from the dance floor as possible, but that was all right by him. This way he could watch everything going on without feeling the need to participate. When the music changed to a slower song, Kurt left the dancefloor and headed for Blaine's table. Blaine straightened at Kurt's approach.

"Hey!" he greeted. "Great party."

"Why thank you."

"When I decide to get married, you'll be the first person I call," Blaine promised with a smirk.

Things were finally going well. Karofsky was expelled, he had a brand new step-mother whom he loved, he and Finn were getting along, and Sectionals were right around the corner. Kurt should have known it wouldn't last. Kurt should have known things were too good to be true. He was chatting with Blaine outside the older boy's locker when Ms. Pillsbury found him.

"Excuse me, Kurt? Principal Sue needs to see you in her office, please. Hello, Blaine."

"Why, what's going on?" Kurt asked. The doe-eyed guidance counselor wrung her hands together.

"I think you'd better just come with me, OK?" She ushered him away from Blaine, who shot him a questioning look. Kurt shrugged and followed Ms. Pillsbury down the hall. When he saw both Burt and Carole there, he knew that something serious was up.

Blaine didn't see Kurt for the rest of the day. He didn't show up for study hall and, when Blaine decided to wait by Kurt's locker for him after school, the boy never showed.

Is everything OK? –B

He held his phone in his hand and waited. Surely, there was nothing so terrible that could have happened that Kurt would allow himself to be separated from his phone.

After a moment, he saw the dots indicating that Kurt was typing a response. Then, his phone buzzed.

Karofsky's coming back. –K

It buzzed again.

I'm transferring to Dalton Academy. I'm sorry. –K

Blaine stared at the screen. He didn't want to believe it, though based on his past experience, it wasn't hard at all. He felt his mouth go dry. Just like that, his friend was gone. No goodbye. No nothing.

Anger flared and he slammed the side of his fist into the door of Kurt's locker as he pushed away from it.