It's been four years since he saw the news report. It's been four years since he got that call from Santana. It's been four years since he attended Kurt Hummel's funeral and the following wake and memorial service.

He doesn't know who designed it so that he wound up winning a full scholarship for Washington State's graduate program for music. Which is pretty much the only reason he even considered it as an option.

His parents were fine with him being gay, but a poor, potentially starving artist?

That was simply not acceptable for an Anderson.

He knows Kurt would be coming back from the grave to kick his ass if he found out that he settled for anything less than his dreams, so what other choice did he have?

And that is how he finds himself stepping off the Tarmak and collecting his luggage.

It feels so weird, having a history with a place without actually having been there. There have been boyfriends since Kurt, some of them were even igreat/i guys, because (as Mercedes and Finn remind him every chance they get) Kurt wouldn't have accepted anything less for him.

But then, none of them are Kurt.

So maybe it is for the best that Anthony chose his career over him, because Blaine needs a fresh start, a chance to shake the Ohio dirt off his loafers once and for all.

A chance to…not forget about Kurt, exactly (because Blaine knows Kurt is unforgettable, as more than a few empty bottles of hard liquor can attest), but maybe...make his memory an easier pill to swallow.

He knows what street they were on when it happened. He doesn't pass by it intentionally, but when he does (a month after he arrives), there's a flash of an image from a TV screen, and something tugs at a memory, and even though he was never there like Finn or Mercedes were, it's all of a sudden a very real memory for him.

And it's been four years, but all of a sudden it's like it's that day all over again.

And then he loses it completely.

Right there on the sidewalk.

He knows he must look awful, and he's got to teach a class in twenty minutes, but he really doesn't care. Delivering a lecture on intervals would require counting and right now, he can barely stand upright, so that's why he barely registers a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" a stranger asks. He starts for a minute, and Blaine nods.

He's tall and lanky with brown eyes and sandy-blonde hair that Blaine could iswear/i has been highlighted with at least lemon juice, and although his ears are ridiculously big (really, you could fly with those things), there's something about this man that Blaine is sort of drawn to.

"Rough day," Blaine replies.

"So it would seem," he says.

"There was this really horrible accident here about four years ago," Blaine explains. "A bunch of kids were here from Ohio for a singing competition, and they were…"

"I know," he says. "I mean, I remember. I mean…I saw it. On the news."

"Anyway…" he continues, wiping at his eyes, "because of one of those people on that bus, I had it really great and wonderful for a little while."

"Sleepless in Seattle?" the man breathes.

Blaine nods. "You know the movie, then?"

"Oh please, you know it's one of my…I mean, it's a classic. Who doesn't know that movie?"

"I have a class in about fifteen minutes," Blaine says, brushing himself off. "So I should go."

"You teach?"

"TA. Music Theory. At the university. I'm Blaine, by the way."

The man smiles and his eyes are glistening and Blaine doesn't know why but he feels like he's just given his new companion a really early Christmas present.

"I'm glad you're going after your dreams."

"Excuse me?"

"I just mean…you don't go to grad school for music to bring home the bacon, you know?"

"My parents certainly think so," Blaine says, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but failing miserably.

There's a long beat and they just stand there, and Blaine doesn't really want to leave, but he has no idea why.

"Henry," the man says after what seems like an eternity. "My name is Henry."

"Listen, I really do have a class to teach in," he glances down at his phone. "Now, ten minutes. But…you want to get some coffee sometime?"

The man—Henry—nods and smiles. Blaine hands him one of his cards that the university issued him when he first got the position.

Blaine thinks that maybe they met in another life, and although there's nothing in the world that will make him stop missing Kurt, what they had, there's a kind of promise in Henry's smile that Blaine thinks this might be a start.

He's not Kurt. He's not even Blaine's itype/i, but the spark that has ignited is undeniable, and he just knows that if he walks away, a spell will break and it'll be over.

Except maybe…

Maybe.

And suddenly, Blaine knows that whatever happens tomorrow, the next day, or the next, this is the beginning.

And the maybe means everything.

*~-End-~*

A/N: Thanks so much for sticking it out to the end! It was written for the KurtBigBang on LJ over the summer and I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys had fun reading it. :) Reviews are always appreciated!