EPILOGUE
=:= one year later =:=
KURT
New York never seemed to change, no matter how long he had been gone from it. It was always moving and bright, welcoming him back as if he'd never left. The winding streets of Los Angeles would never feel as right as the walk from Broadway to Central Park, where there was always room for him, no matter how crowded it could be. There was always a bench, or a patch of grass, or a small mountain of rock waiting for him. It wasn't like that in LA, where he still felt grossly out of place despite having lived there for nearly ten months. People made no sense to him there, lacked a certain finesse that he missed from the people in New York, and his job as an assistant director wasn't nearly as fulfilling when his biggest contribution to the "art" of the film was if the explosion went high enough.
A warm breeze ruffled through his hair and Kurt let himself smile as he stretched out on the grass near the carousel. He had tried to fight it, had come up with so many excuses. It was too good an opportunity to waste, that he was being handed something people spend their whole lives dreaming about. He wanted the experience, and once he found his feet, he would love it. He needed the distance after what Blaine had done to him, he deserved the distance. A thousand and one reasons not to go back to New York, and they didn't hold a match to the one reason that kept calling at his heart. This was where he belonged. This was home and no one, not even himself, should be allowed to take that from him.
Still, coming back was the hardest part. It felt a little too much like defeat, like he was giving up or admitting that it was okay. It wasn't okay; he wasn't sure it would ever be okay. It would hurt like hell for the rest of his life every time he thought about the way Blaine had betrayed him, how Rachel had lied to him. There were nights when he still cried, wondering how things might have been different if he'd just confronted Blaine about his feelings for her, had voiced his suspicions. They weren't as discreet as they liked to pretend, but Kurt had been too good at ignoring it. If Blaine felt like he could have been honest, if Kurt would have listened to him, maybe they would have made it to the end, like they always said they would.
The worst part was that he'd never know.
But something could be said for the adage that time heals all wounds. He wasn't healed, not by a long shot, but the sting was less debilitating and the days he was sure he could never get out of bed again were further and further apart. Hearing their names in any context didn't anger him as quickly, and it had only taken him a week instead of three months this time to read Rachel's letter. He had expected it, of course, as soon as he heard the news from Finn who heard it from Quinn, but he never responded to anyone when they asked if he was going.
He hadn't even properly decided yet, despite having taken a plane across the country, her letter and its contents stuck in his jacket's breast pocket. The only thing he was absolutely sure of was that he would be moving back to the city. The rest of it, who he decided his friends would be and who he could trust to be in his life, he didn't know; only that he was in the best place to make those kinds of decisions.
The air shifted around him and Kurt didn't even have to turn his head to know that someone had sat down next to him, his legs crossed and one hand rubbing the back of his neck and through hair that always hinted at wild, dark curls. He still dreamed about those hazel eyes sometimes, shining golden in the right light with a secret smile. He could still picture the way his lips moved, quirking just slightly in the corners. "Hey stranger," he said, voice full of a sense of caution Kurt hadn't heard since their time at Dalton.
"Blaine," Kurt said, his name coming out in a sigh. "How did you know I would be here?"
"Despite what happened, I like to think I know a few things about you," he replied, a wry grin twisting his face almost into a grimace, and Kurt could almost hear him trying to thing of all the different ways he could have said that instead. He could sense the doubt, the uncertainty, and Kurt nearly laughed out loud at the instinct he still had to reassure him; because even now, it was hard to think of something worse than Blaine Anderson frowning.
"I suppose that's true," Kurt said with a small smile, a little chuckle escaping him despite his better judgment. "I really meant, how did you know you could find me here? I didn't tell anyone I was in town."
Blaine sighed a little, enough to make Kurt look over at him for the first time; he noticed Blaine wasn't looking at him, staring resolutely into the distance the way he did when faced with something difficult, creating a safe distance where it didn't feel as intimidating. "I saw you at La Guardia," Blaine finally said, scratching at the light stubble lining his jaw – Kurt wondered when he stopped going clean-shaven, if it was before or after he completely forgot about gel products – and pushed a bunch of curls away from his forehead. "I was picking up Cooper and I saw you come down the tunnel for baggage claim. Did you know you were on the same flight as him?"
Kurt hated to admit it, but his breath caught in his throat as Blaine's neck craned around and his bright eyes finally found his own. They were still so much more beautiful than in his dreams and he was certain that all the pain in the world would never change that. "I didn't see him," Kurt admitted quietly, trying to remind himself that the stars in Blaine's eyes weren't for him anymore. "I was in first class."
"Please don't tell Cooper that," Blaine laughed openly, his head falling against his chest in mirth. "He was all the way in the back, on the very last row in the middle seat and hasn't stopped complaining about it for three days."
"I guess they didn't think he was serious. He must not have pointed at them enough," Kurt quipped, smiling as Blaine began to chuckle even more. "So you've just been coming around for the last three days hoping to see me again?"
"Basically," Blaine shrugged as if the sudden change in conversation didn't bother him; perhaps it didn't, perhaps he had counted on it. "I wanted to talk to you at the airport. I've wanted to talk to you for as long as you've been gone actually. And I practiced it, you know. I thought about what I would say if I ever got to see you again and I thought I had it down. Until I actually saw you and then I just forgot.. everything."
"If it's an apology, or an explanation," Kurt said by way of interruption, raising his hand as if to ward that very thing away from him, "I really don't want another one. I got it then, and I don't think anything has changed since."
"It wasn't either of those," he whispered sadly, "or maybe it was a little of both, I don't really know. I know whatever it was was selfish though, because I hate the thought of you hating me, even though I deserve it. I just felt like, 'If I could talk to him, maybe he would remember the way I used to be, how we were when we were together and it was just us and we were happy'. Because I still think of you like that, once I get past the guilt. You were my first love, and no matter who I love now, nothing will change that."
He expected to feel anger, to think how dare he say he ever loved me? but an unanticipated calm settled over Kurt instead. He wasn't sure he could explain it; maybe it was just the time and the distance that had passed between them, his heart healing more than he thought it had. He could accept that Blaine had hurt him, had done all the wrong things when it came to their relationship, could accept that he may never understand what had pulled Blaine towards Rachel, but in the midst of all that, he still had memories of what he and Blaine had been like. The quiet mornings spent in bed wrapped up in each other, the love notes they'd leave around the house if their schedules were busy, the valentines and the holidays and the moments when Blaine would look at him with such adoration it made Kurt's skin blush.
That had been real, no matter how it ended; and because he could admit that, he could start to truly let it go.
"Do you remember Coney Island on Halloween?" Kurt asked, the smile on Blaine's lips telling him that he did. "I didn't even want to go, but you insisted that we both needed a day off from classes, even though you were still trying to make up for the semester you were suspended from. I just remember going through the mirror house, clinging to your hand and waiting for those stupid clowns to jump out at me. You didn't let go of all night, and on the train ride back, you fell asleep on my shoulder and I looked at you and I realized at that moment how in love with you I really was. That it was even bigger than it had been in high school, it hadn't faded. And I thought then, if I could only relive one moment for the rest of my life, that would be it.
"That's what I've been thinking about lately," he continued, unable to stop the quirk of his own lips from forming a tiny grin. "I haven't forgotten how much you hurt me, or how angry I was about it, but underneath it all, I haven't forgotten the rest of it either. So, who knows, maybe one day I'll remember those things first."
"I'd like that," Blaine nodded, his eyes shifting away once again to the distance, fingers worrying the hem of his old t-shirt – a Dalton shirt, Kurt realized with a jolt. "I know she'd like that too."
Kurt's smile slipped. Talking to Blaine was surprisingly easier than he thought it would be, but he wasn't sure if the same would be true for Rachel. He hated to think he would be that person to blame "the other woman" in this whole scenario. Rachel had been his friend – sometimes even best friend – for years, and he loved her profoundly but... it wasn't the same. Blaine had a place in his heart carved out for him, and Kurt knew he would always be there; with Rachel, she had been the catalyst to all of this in his head. Just by being who she was, by caring about Blaine and loving him the way she never should have, she had changed the only life Kurt had ever wanted.
"She misses you," Blaine said.
"I think it's going to take me a little longer to get there," he said honestly to Blaine, who merely nodded again and Kurt suddenly wished he would stop being so passive. It was somehow more confusing than if Blaine had been demanding they work this out. If Blaine pressured him, Kurt would have an excuse for the hesitance he felt when it came to reaching out to Rachel. He could blame it on them trying to force him back into their lives, the one they effectively kicked him out of, but instead, Blaine just sat there, so understanding. It drove Kurt crazy.
"We've all been in each other's lives for almost a decade," Blaine replied with a bitter laugh, his fingers balling into a fist in the grass. "Even now, I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that I can't just call you in the middle of the night if I want to, or that I don't hear you and Rachel singing duets in the living room. It's weird but I get it. I just hate this is how it all turned out."
"I don't know how it could have turned out any other way," Kurt challenged, though it came out almost wistful, like a regret he never knew he had.
"In a perfect world," Blaine answered softly, voice barely a whisper as if he were afraid to even say it out loud, "I could have been picking you up from the airport too. Rachel would have been there, and you two would have laughed and ignored me the whole cab ride home. Rachel and I - we could tell you that we missed you, and ask you to stay with us for a few extra days, just to catch up. And when you went back to LA, we could call or write letters. We could invite you for Thanksgiving, Christmas, to our wedding."
"Wait, you're getting married?" Kurt interrupted, his heart suddenly pounding away at the inside of his chest. He'd spent so much time trying not to think about them as a them, instead focusing on how Blaine had hurt him, how Rachel had betrayed his trust, that he'd managed to never think about them as a functioning couple, in a real relationship with things like engagements and marriages and families and... oh god.
"Is she pregnant again?" he snapped and Blaine literally recoiled from the bitterness in his voice; Kurt wanted to scream, because it was like being transported back to the moment his life had come undone, as he listened to Blaine plead with an unconscious Rachel to wake up, listening to him cry over the daughter he'd never met. It was painful, and he wanted to hate Blaine all over again. He didn't deserve to flinch away from him, not after the nights Kurt has spent crying over him, the same night that Blaine had undoubtedly spend safe in his precious Rachel's arms.
Except that, the longer he sat with that rage broiling inside him, the more exhausted he felt. It had been like that back in LA too, when he could finally admit that he was tired of being angry, of being sad and hurt. He wanted to move on, and while he wasn't sure how to do it, maybe accepting that their lives went on without him, that they wouldn't stop just because he had caught them, maybe that was how he could press forward on his own. It wasn't fair, but it was all he could do. So he took a deep breath to calm himself, twisting his hands in his pockets and he said as humbly as he could, "I'm sorry. That was callous."
Blaine shook his head adamantly. "No, you have every right to be," he choked, his voice a deep rasp as he took a shuddering breath of his own. "No, she's not pregnant. We don't even live together. After all the mistakes we made, we decided we had to do this the right way. But," he said before Kurt had a chance to comment, not that he knew what he would have said, "I am going to ask her to marry me. Not now, but soon."
"Well," was all the reaction Kurt could muster, folding his arms over his knees as he stared out into the green of Central Park. He let Blaine's words sink in, settle in the pit of his stomach, and waited for the tears to start again, or his heart to drop, but nothing happened. He wouldn't say he was numb exactly, because there was a mild annoyance, a feeling that Blaine was being incredibly inconsiderate, or that he himself was just being overly sensitive. He wanted to talk to Rachel, or maybe yell at her in ways that he never really had the chance to, but above it all, he really just felt suitably resigned to the whole situation. He couldn't change it, now or then, and nothing he could do would stop them.
Silence passed, neither of them sure of what to do now that the conversation had reached a stalemate. It wasn't until Kurt's phone rang – which he promptly ignored – that either of them even moved. Blaine rubbed the back of his neck with both hands, trying to meet Kurt's gaze out of the corner of his eye. "She's debuting tonight."
"I know," Kurt replied, digging the heel of his boot into the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at Blaine. "I still haven't decided if I'm going."
"It would mean the world to her if you did,but I know she would understand if you didn't." was all Blaine said as he stood up, smoothing down the front of his pants. "I know you may not believe me Kurt, but it was good to see you."
Kurt watched him walk away down the hill, and he shook his head, a small smile inching it's way across his face. He could feel the envelope in his pocket pressed against his chest, calling to him, whispering his name. It was the same reason he hadn't been able to tear her letter up and burn it in the trash, why he had checked over ten times to make sure he packed them even when he wasn't sure he was going to actually get on the plan, and why he carried them with him around the city even if they would be safer back at the hotel. In his heart, he knew he couldn't miss this – she had worked too long, and too hard and for some reason. He still wasn't sure if he'd forgiven her, but those unresolved feelings, he could forget them for one night as important as this.
"Blaine!" he shouted, standing up at the top of the hill as Blaine reached the gate. "Tell Rachel I'll be there."
-:-
BLAINE
"Read it again," Rachel giggled, bouncing off her spot on the mattress to drape herself over Blaine's lap, the newspaper he held crinkling between them.
"You mean you don't have it memorized yet?" he laughed as she shook her head, her smile as wide as he'd ever seen it, eyes sparkling with mirth as she pushed the paper towards him once more, her fingers wrapped around his as he scanned he page for the article again. The crease folded easily from the paper having spent the entire morning since she rushed out to buy it being bent in half.
" 'While not a true stranger to the stage', " Blaine read the half-memorized words out loud, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she seemed to swell with pride, " 'relative newcomer Rachel Berry is effervescent in her first starring role as Elphaba, portraying the heroine's plight with the charm and poise expected from a seasoned actress. Berry delivers each scene with surging confidence and one leaves the audience feeling truly rewarded by the experience. It is safe to say the world of Broadway has welcomed Ms. Berry to the stage with the most open of arms and should expect to call her own of it's own for years to come'."
She giggled again, throwing herself away from Blaine and bouncing off the bed, tugging a pair of sweatpants she normally only wore to rehearsals over her pajama shorts as she looked around for her shoes. "Hey!" Blaine cried, rolling after her, his bare knees dangling off the ends of the mattress. "Where are you going?"
"I have to buy more newspapers," she said breathlessly, her cheeks shining red from sheer excitement. "I have to send them to my dad, and Marco, to Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Pillsbury, and to Quinn and the whole glee club. Oh and Figgins so he can frame it for the trophy case in McKinley. And Jesse, I absolutely have to send one to Jesse, and your parents should have one, and Cooper and-."
"And how is the rest of New York supposed to read about your stunning debut?" he teased, his arms circling around her waist as he pulled her back down onto her bed, her hair splaying around her as she squealed happily, her legs tangling in his. Her arms looped around his neck, dragging him down to her for a quick kiss until he deepened it, teasing her smiling lips open as she hummed into his mouth, her fingers massaging gently into his scalp. His hands cradled the sides of her face, thumbs brushing gently over the curve of her cheek when he pulled away, gazing down into her bright eyes gazing back into his, her happiness lighting her up from the very depths of her soul.
"I am so proud of you," he whispered, his lips skimming over the tip of her nose, the slope of her jaw, the turn of her neck before settling back on his elbows, smoothing the hair at the top of her head with his palms. "You are incredible Rachel."
"It felt incredible," she breathed in agreement, her hands running aimlessly down his chest, catching in the collar of his shirt. "I was so nervous and I thought I was going to pass out in the first act, and I messed up that turn in the second, and I was so sure everyone was going to notice and that's all anyone was going to remember-."
"Are you kidding?" he interrupted gently, silencing her with a brief press of his lips against hers. "Rachel you were perfect, and there was no one in that theater last night who could take their eyes off you."
"Do you mean it?" she asked even as he nodded, his hands wandering out of her hair.
"You were perfect," he repeated, slipping his fingers under her the hem of her shirt, the warm of her flowing into him, "and beautiful." His hand rose. exposing her skin to his lips as he kissed his way up her stomach, feeling her breath hitch the higher he traveled. "And your voice," he whispered with his lips pressed just under her breast, "the angels were jealous, and you were," he paused for a moment as he let his tongue trace up her sternum, teeth nipping gently as her clavicle before snickering against her throat, "very, very green."
"Blaine!" she laughed, pushing him off her and readjusting her shirt as she sat up, her arms crossed over her chest. "It's part of the costume!"
"You're still wearing some of it," he pointed out, his finger tracing a faint line of paint that disappeared under her collar.
Her eyes furrowed together, clutching at her shirt and pulling it down to look, sighing wistfully when she found it. "Well, it's very hard to get off," she stated, somewhat begrudgingly, her smile slipping just slightly as she looked at it again. "I wonder if it will stain my other clothes. There's a reason Elphaba wears mostly black."
"I could get it off for you," he grinned, his fingers hooking in the collar of her shirt and dragging it down much further than it truly needed to be, the curve of her bare breast exposed as he leaned in, raking his tongue over the paint. He felt her laugh more than he heard her, her fingers crooking gently under his chin to lead him up to her waiting lips, kissing him deeply once more before slipping out of his grasp for good.
"As tempting as that is," she teased, throwing his jeans across the room, a clear indication that she expected him to get dressed, "I really do want to buy some more newspapers."
"Fine, fine," he chortled, shaking his head as his his curls fell down in his eyes, "but you're all mine after that."
"I promise," she exclaimed, yanking on a skirt to replace the sweats she had been wearing before stripping her shirt off and reaching for a bra, "that after we buy no less than 30 copies of The New York Times, we can come back and have all the congratulatory, celebratory sex you want."
"What do you take me for?" he gasped in mock offense.
"My adorable, wonderful, supportive boyfriend," she said as she ruffled his hair, sliding his cellphone into his pocket, "who is going to carry all the quarters for me."
-:-
He was sure they were a sight to see, carrying a stack of newspapers each as they trudged into the diner, Rachel muttering happily under her breath as she mentally checked off the names on her increasingly long list of people she just had to send the clipping to – she decided Shelby deserved one, as well as Finn and his wife, and Mercedes who hadn't been able to come because of her touring in Canada – while Blaine tried to keep them from falling off the booth and scattering all over the floor. Eventually they both settled down, Rachel swinging her legs into the booth as she tucked them under her body, leaning forward to look over the menu while Blaine skimmed it, reading upside down in a way he'd grown accustomed to after all these years of surviving on diner food and take out with her. He ordered coffee, and a large kettle of tea, his fingers lacing naturally through hers as she reached across the table to take his hand.
"Can you believe Kurt came?" she said, breaking into a smile that never seemed to really go away. "He never answered my letter and I had no idea if he received the ticket, but he was there with those gorgeous roses and he hugged me Blaine. He hugged me."
"I know," he said gently, rubbing circles into the back of her hand. "I told you there was no way he was going to miss this."
"He could have," she shrugged, flipping a laminated page over to study the back. "I wouldn't have blamed him at all you know, if he hadn't come."
"He would have regretted it," he shrugged as the waitress came for their order, Rachel requesting a few more minutes before she lapsed into silence while Blaine drank his coffee. Even now, sitting in a diner they had been to a million times, she looked like she was on the verge of bursting into song, overjoyed and giddy; she was beyond happy and he didn't think he'd ever seen her more beautiful. And all he could do was stop and enjoy the moment, keep it forever, because he didn't want it to pass them over and leave them behind. Because this was literally her moment, the one she had lived her whole life for and he was lucky enough to be sharing it with her.
"We haven't been here in a long time," she remarked after the waitress came back, Blaine letting her order for him when she couldn't decide between two of the plates, a process tried and true between the two of them.
"I was wondering if you'd recognize it," he said, a playful grin playing at his lips.
"I feel like we spent the first three years of our lives in New York here," she replied with a gentle toss of her hair. "You and I used to come here two or three times a week when you first moved here. We had a lot of late nights in this diner."
"I feel like my entire life changed in this diner," Blaine confessed, her eyebrow quirking up in question as she sipped at her tea. "You had just finished that dance class you were taking that summer, to stay in shape, and all you wanted were pancakes. So we came here and you were chattering about how much I was going to love New York, even though I'd been here for about a month already. And your hair was in this messy bun and your makeup was gone, and you were wearing this weird cut-off shirt with a huge sunflower on it; and I just remember looking at you as you sat across from me and thinking "she is the most beautiful person in my life". And you still are, in every way I can think of."
"You never told me that," she whispered, her eyes wide and searching as she gazed into his, a tiny grin settling on her lips as he averted his own to stare at his knees.
"I think," he said self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's when I started to- I don't know, it was just- something changed that day and I-."
"It was after for me," she interjected, saving him from his stuttering nightmare, tugging his on his hand insistently until he looked back at her. "We'd been... intimate for a few weeks, and you had fallen asleep on my shoulder while watching The Sound of Music. It was my choice, but I couldn't really pay attention to it because my entire world seemed to consist of you, just laying there, sleeping, this little smile on your lips and your hand resting on my thigh where it had fallen out of my hand during the film. I knew I loved you, but I didn't realize how until that moment."
"It's crazy, right?" Blaine muttered, leaning over the table as if just to feel closer to her. "That it took us so long, I mean."
"I don't know," Rachel smiled, copying his movement until they were nearly touching, separated by only a few easily closed inches. "Maybe this is the way it was supposed to be. Because sometimes it feels like I'm still coming to terms with it all. Every time I turn around, there's something new about you to love."
"You think we can really do this?" and even as he said it, he knew what her answer would be.
"Blaine, we've been doing it for years," she teased, lifting herself off the seat just enough to press her forehead against his.
"What if we do it forever?" he whispered, lips brushing against hers as he spoke before he leaned forward again, catching her bottom lip between his, letting it linger and warm him from the inside out, his hand falling to the side of her neck to lead her further into him, their mouths parting at the same time. Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin just as his eyes slid shut. He could feel her, all around him and in his heart and mind and her memory sinking into his skin; how the last year of their lives had been about letting this be, knowing and understanding and truly having it for the first time. No more hiding and sneaking around and neglecting to say the words because they might hurt too much to hear. And they still fought, they still cried, they still made mistakes, but they did it together and in that end, that was all he'd ever really wanted and all she never needed.
"I love you," he said as they parted, and she seemed to glow as she said it back to him.
Everything they'd gone through, put themselves through, worked for and fought for, this was it. This was the beginning.
AN: I know this chapter took forever to get out, but I wanted it to be perfect because this is it, this is the last chapter. Thank you all so so much for reading and reviewing and favoriting and following and your incredible patience with me. It's been amazing and rewarding and I thank you so much for letting me share this with you.
And I have to give the world's biggest thank you to someone who has become my very best friend, and without her I truly don't think I would have been able to finish this at all. Ashley has been there with me every step of the way and sometimes I feel this story is as much hers as it is mine, as much as it is yours. But truly, without Ashley, there's no telling where this would be and I am forever eternally grateful to have her in my life and in the process of writing this.
Again, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.