A/N: And now the conclusion...

Blaine shuddered as the flying machine they were standing on rose in the air, motorized wings whirring at hummingbird speed on either side of them, and wrapped his arms tighter around Kurt's waist, burying his face into the back of his cloak. He felt his stomach drop as the ground pulled away, while he struggled to settle his erratically beating heart.

"It's okay," Kurt's voice washed over him. "I've got you."

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally feeling calm enough to pull his head away from Kurt's back and blink around at their surroundings. They were flying over houses and buildings and trees, all blurring by as the wind whipped their faces and clothes. He looked at Kurt, who was smiling at him easily over his shoulder.

"How do you know my name?" Blaine asked.

Kurt cocked his head, confusion written on his face. "What do you mean? You told me your name, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine shook his head, pulling back a bit, but keeping his hands tight on Kurt's waist. "No I didn't. Back there. You called me Blaine. How do you know my first name?"

Kurt hesitated, reaching down with one hand to stroke his thumb over Blaine's wrist. Blaine felt his stomach swoop at that moment, but figured it was because of the sudden turn Kurt made, twisting in the air as he began to lower their altitude. By now they were nearing the edge of Lima and the coffee shop was coming into view.

"I've always known who you are, Blaine," Kurt whispered, his face turned towards the horizon in front of them while his voice carried on the wind past Blaine's ears. "Ever since you came into the shop. It's kind of difficult to forget a laugh like yours." And then, quieter, almost so that Blaine missed what he said. "Or your eyes."

(2): Brown

The door of The Lima Bean opened with a jingle of bells. Blaine stepped inside, blinking to adjust his eyesight from the brightness outside to the sudden dimness inside. As shapes began to form, he took in a small coffee shop, with a wooden counter on the far wall hiding a coffee maker and multiple percolators and cabinets filled with different ingredients. A board hanging above it listed off different types of drinks. Small tables filled the room, seating for about two of four per table, with a small couch and several armchairs in the corner. The walls were painted white, save for the one opposite him, which was made of brick and looked more like the outside of a house with steps leading up to a black-painted door. There were windows in this wall, but they were probably just decorative, Blaine figured, considering that thick dark green curtains shielded the view from the opposite side of the glass panes.

"Hello?" he called out in his rough, gravelly voice. The door fell closed behind him, forcing a gust of wind past him. As he watched the curtains behind the decorative windows billowed inwards and he realized that they weren't actually decorative. For a brief moment he could see a chair and a fireplace and a set of stairs, and then the curtains settled again. Curious, he began shuffling towards the door, wincing as his knees twinged in arthritic pain.

"Oh, hello!" a chirpy voice greeted from behind him. He whirled around, coming face to face with a short girl with long brown hair, very wide eyes, and an even wider smile. She was wearing a green apron over a hideously pink dress and had seeming appeared out of nowhere. A small white nametag just above her breast proclaimed her name to be "Hello my name is Rachel!" with a gold star sticker next to it. Blaine looked around in confusion, but the only doors were the one he came in and the one on the opposite side of the room. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

"Um…"

Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the counter before sliding behind it herself.

"What would you like? Coffee? Tea? A scone? Maybe a cookie? I make the most wonderful vegan cookies, and if you'd like I could even add some writing. What's your name?"

"Bl-" He hesitated, wondering if he could trust this girl, and wondering why he was even telling her his name. Instead, he answered, "Anderson. You can call me Mr. Anderson."

Her smile faltered for a bit then returned. "Okay…well, Mr. Anderson what'll it be?"

"Just a medium drip, please."

"Coming right up! Why don't you take a seat?" Rachel suggested as she rung him up and handed him his change.

Blaine began edging towards one of the tables near the brick wall, only for Rachel to suddenly appear by his side and guide him towards one of the armchairs instead, babbling on about how "an eldery man like you shouldn't have to suffer the confines of a hard-backed chair that would no doubt leave you in discomfort. Here, why not take a seat on this far more comfortable armchair and I'll bring you your drink as soon as it's done?"

She left him there, blinking and wondering how she had managed to say all of that without seeming to take a breath or even break her smile. But Rachel was already behind the counter again, rummaging around and gathering up coffee grinds and turning on the coffee maker. He watched her for a moment, before curiosity once again took over and he looked at the door, wondering what was behind it. The shop hadn't been that big on the outside – just a one story building – and he was curious to see where those stairs went.

Slowly and quietly, he began to rise from his seat, watching Rachel carefully to make sure she didn't see him move. He was just about to take a step forward when a shout from the room behind the door caused him to stumble and fall back onto the seat, and Rachel to let out a small scream as she dropped a box of coffee filters.

"BERRY!"

"Oh for the love of-" Rachel muttered, scooping down to retrieve the filters and then moving out from behind the counter. She stalked over to the door, up the two stairs, yanked it open and, walking through it shouted "WHAT?"

The door swung shut behind her, but not all the way. A crack remained, but Rachel's voice and whomever she was talking to were muffled. Blaine decided he'd had enough of waiting around and so he stood up and walked over to the door, pulling it open a bit more and peering into the room.

It was some sort of living room, he figured, with a red oval rug off to the right in front of a softly glowing fireplace. There was a large purple wing-tipped armchair and a matching sofa. The walls, which were striped with cream and green, were lined with bookshelves covered in books and knick-knacks. To the left a set of stairs curved elegantly upwards towards a landing, disappearing into a hallway. Towards the back of the room there was a smaller hallway leading into the distance – farther than Blaine knew the confines of the Lima Bean building should be able to reach.

Strangely enough, the fact that the building was bigger on the inside didn't make him exclaim loudly as he did. No, what did make him shout was the thing with which Rachel was conversing.

"You have a talking fire!"

Rachel whirled around with a gasp, staring at him as her hands flew to her mouth.

"Mr. Anderson! You're not supposed to be back here!"

"But, you have a talking fire!" he reiterated, pushing the door wider and staring at the fire which, he noted, was staring back at him. The fire had shaped itself a pair of eyes and a mouth and was currently hissing and spitting out sparks as it talked in an unmistakably female voice.

"Yo, grandpa, I'm right here you know."

"Oh! I'm sorry! I just…" he trailed off as he stepped closer, staring at the fire as it seemed to blink at him and give him a sneering look.

"You're just what? Incredibly rude?"

"No. Shocked, I guess," he said with a laugh, unable to contain his delight at the situation. Distantly he heard a creak from the top of the stairs, and started to turn to look when the fire spoke again, drawing his attention back to watch the way it blinked and moved its mouth like any regular person's face. It was fascinating.

"Yeah, I get it. It's not every day you see a face as beautiful as mine, right?" the fire purred. Blaine blinked and shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not…sorry I don't swing that way."

"Figures. But hey, it's not like I do either. Plus, if I did have to take one, I'd like it nice and firm, not wrinkled like-"

"Mr. Anderson!" Rachel interrupted, grabbing onto his arm and pulling at it. She was glancing around nervously. "Please, you shouldn't be back here."

"Why not, Berry?" the fire asked as it sent out a spark. Blaine wasn't sure, but he didn't think 'Berry' was a petname for Rachel, if the fire's attitude towards her said anything about their relationship. "He's not doing any harm. And he's probably more enjoyable company than you are. Look at all that gel in his hair. I wonder what would happen if I blew some sparks on it."

Blaine's eyes widened and he stumbled back away from the fireplace – right into someone's arms.

Gasping, he spun around and found himself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes – the same ones he had been daydreaming about since his stroll through the sky.

"Santana," Kurt said calmly, his eyes still trained on Blaine's face. "What have we said about setting fire to people in this house?"

The fire behind him let out a sigh, but Blaine couldn't tear his gaze away from Kurt's eyes to look at it. They were so blue and clear, shining with an unseen laughter as he smiled at Blaine, who, he realized, had his jaw hanging open and quickly snapped it shut.

"No setting anyone on fire whether it be their clothes or their hair or even their face. Except anything made by Burberry. That's fair game."

"Thank you, Santana. Now, Mr. Anderson, was it? My name is Kurt. Would you care for some coffee?"

"Oh! I was just getting that!" Rachel said, rushing past them into the coffee shop.

"Come, why don't you sit down. You must be tired."

"I…okay," Blaine replied dully, mind swimming as he tried to focus on something other than the breathless feeling he got while looking at Kurt's eyes. He allowed himself to be led over to the couch and sat down gingerly. Kurt patted his knee before moving away and settling in the armchair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands on top of his knee. Blaine took in his outfit carefully, drinking in the black loafers, the white pants, and the boat-neck navy and white long-sleeved t-shirt. He was wearing a white flat cap as well, tilted to the side, and a brooch of a yellow canary that reflected the firelight as he turned to face Blaine.

"So, Mr. Anderson. What brings you to Lima?"

"I…I don't know," Blaine replied, fiddling with the strap on his bag containing all of the belongings he had grabbed before he left home. Several changes of clothes, toiletries, a large container of hair gel and his comb, and of course, his emergency bow ties.

"You don't know?" Kurt replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "Or you won't tell?"

"I…can't tell."

"Hmmm…a curse is it?" Blaine's head snapped up and Kurt nodded. "I understand. Do you need a place to stay?"

"Oh, I-I couldn't impose on you like that," Blaine began, gripping his bag tighter.

"Nonsense," Kurt replied, waving his hands. There was a soft popping noise followed by a soft thump from the corner of the room. Blaine looked over and saw a mattress had appeared on the floor, with sheets and blacks folded on top as well as a pillow. He blinked in surprise and turned back to gape at Kurt. "And if you don't feel comfortable taking charity, you can always help Rachel with the shop."

"You…you would do that? For me? But why?" Blaine asked, still unsure if this was real. He watched as Kurt looked down and brushed at his pants.

"I just…My father always taught me that kindness gives us the most in life. Besides, I…I heard you talking to Santana…about…about being…"

"Gay?"

"Here you go!" Rachel said cheerily as she entered the room, carrying a tray with a steaming mug of coffee on it as well as a plate of yellow-frosted cookies. She walked over to the sofa area and paused, frowning. In moments a wooden coffee table appeared and she set the tray down on top of it with a smile. "Medium drip, just as you ordered. There's cream and sugar and I took the privilege of putting out a plate of my vegan lemon cookies."

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said with a thin smile. "You may go."

"But-"

"Don't you have some spells to practice in your room?" Kurt continued, his smile plastered on his face.

Rachel's eyes widened and she seemed to take the hint. "Oh!" And with that she scurried off up the stairs, disappearing down the hallway.

Kurt sighed, the smile slipping off his face, and looked down at his knees. "I've never met anyone other than Rachel's dads who is gay."

"You're the only one your age who is out?" Blaine asked, adding some sugar to his coffee and stirring it gently.

"Sort of…"

Blaine frowned in confusion but Kurt continued speaking.

"Were you…were you ever bullied? For being gay?"

Blaine swallowed hard over a sudden lump that formed in his throat. Images flashed in his memory – of flying fists and angry faces and the dark stain of blood on the asphalt – but he closed his eyes against them and forced himself to nod his head.

"Are you being bullied, Kurt?"

The wizard let out a sigh, which was mimicked by the fire, whom Blaine had almost forgotten, causing him to jump in his seat.

"Of course he's being bullied, you twit. He's gay in Lima, Ohio! This may be a city full of magical beings, but they still don't like fairies," Santana sneered.

"Santana!" Kurt snapped.

"It's the truth, Hummel."

"Just…not now, Santana. Please."

"Yeah, yeah, whatevs."

Ignoring the fire and turning back to Blaine, Kurt took a deep breath. "There's this…one wizard…a Neanderthal…who hasn't stopped bothering me since I came out. And recently it got worse. And on top of my father ending up in the hospital with a heart attack…it just became a little too much for me, I guess. I created this place as a sort of sanctuary after I left my apprenticeship."

Blaine's eyes widened. He'd never heard of a witch or wizard who'd hadn't finished an apprenticeship except for those who – but no, he thought. There's no way Kurt could have done that. He's far too kind for that. It must have been the pressure from the bully that forced him to leave.

"But this guy…he just won't stop," Kurt continued, frustration growing in his voice as his eyes began to shine wetly. "He keeps finding me whenever I got out. It's like he tracks me down, just so he can shove me around and call me names. And of course no one does anything about it. Not my old master, or my more recent one. They just don't care."

Blaine felt a sudden desire to just reach over and pull Kurt into a hug, but he had a feeling that might seem weird, especially since they had only "just" met. Instead, he gripped his mug, took a sip, and then opened his mouth to speak, hoping that what he was about to say would help the boy before him.

"I understand, Kurt. When I was bullied…no one seemed to care. It was like 'you're gay, what do you expect?' So I ran away. I regret it some days, not being able to stand up for myself. I felt like such a coward. And then there are other days…when I don't regret it at all. The place I ended up was wonderful. I felt safe. But Kurt…you can do something."

Kurt sniffed and looked up at him. "I can?"

Blaine nodded, setting the mug on the tray. "You can face your bully yourself, stand up to him, make him see that what he is doing is wrong. Don't wait around for someone to save you, Kurt. It's the twenty-first century. You can save yourself. All it takes is courage."

"I…thank you," Kurt whispered, wiping a hand across his eye. "You don't…you don't know what that means to me."

"Oh, believe me, Kurt, I do. You don't know how much I wish someone had been there to say those words to me."

Kurt grinned shyly at him and Blaine smiled back.

"Do you two need to get a room or something?" Santana asked, breaking the silence.

"Santana!"

(6): Orange

"Alright, guys! It's moving day!"

There was a moment of silence and then-

"What do you mean, 'moving day'? Kurt Hummel, if you expect me to pack up all of my belongings-"

"Hummel, what are you getting at? Moving? No, wait, you don't mean – oh hell no, ladyface! I ain't movin' no shit for you-"

"-and then I'll have to find safe storage containers for all my trophies and vintage posters and records and what will I do about my Barbra collection, I mean, that's priceless and there are far too many items-"

"-already heat the water, help cook the meals, keep this place freaking shielded from danger. I may be amazing, but I do far too much work as it is. And now you want me to move the friggin house for you? Nah ah, no me gusta. Find some other source of magic-"

"-and where are we moving to, huh? I need to know what the environment will be like so I can judge its effects on my vocal chords and magical prowess-"

"ENOUGH!"

Blaine jumped as Kurt let out a terrific shout next to him, effectively silencing the witch and the fire. Without thinking, Blaine laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder, willing him to calm down.

The wizard drew in a breath through his close, closing his eyes, before opening them again and exhaling through his mouth. "Now. Rachel, we are not moving like you think we're moving. We're changing the locations on the doors and…rearranging some rooms. Santana, I understand it takes a lot of work from you, but please, this is really important. Sue is going to stop at nothing to get to me, so we need to get rid of our connections to the house in Lima and the brownstone in New York. Sue knows too many people in both places."

"What about the coffee shop?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. "I took on that portal after I left Sue. She has no idea we're located there. Alright, now everyone, let's get to work! Quickly, now! The Desperate House-Witches of Salem County is on in an hour and I don't want to miss it!"

"Oooh," Blaine murmured. "I love that show? Can I join you?"

Kurt threw him a toothy grin. "I was sort of counting on it."

There it was again. That swooping feeling in his gut that he had felt on the flying machine. Only this time, Blaine knew why his heart was beating faster in his chest.

In less than ten minutes the floor was clear of all dirt and dust, the carpet rolled up and the furniture pushed to the side. Rachel and the bird, who had stayed with Blaine all throughout the flight and whom Kurt had instantly taking a liking too ("I think I'll call him Pavarotti. What do you think, Blaine?"), went to perch on the stairs to observe as Kurt took a piece of chalk and began drawing markings. Blaine followed her and settled a few steps below, peering through to watch. Kurt leaned down after he had drawn a circle and began tracing symbols in the middle of the circle. Blaine admired Kurt's long fingers as they gripped the chalk. His eyes followed the shape of his forearm up to where he had rolled back his sleeves, revealing just-toned arms that left Blaine wondering how much Kurt worked out.

Kurt shifted, turning to make a new mark, and Blaine found himself with a perfect view of his ass, his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination. Blaine felt a heat creeping onto his neck and he forced himself to look away.

Not what he needs now, Blaine scolded himself. Some pervy old dude leering at his perfectly round, smooth – no stop that!"

"There!" Kurt said with a flourish as he tossed the chalk to the side. Walking over to the fireplace, he picked up a coal shovel and leaned down to scoop up Santana.

"Careful, ladyfingers," the fire warned as he walked back over to the circle, carefully holding the shovel straight out in front of him. He walked around to the edge of the circle that faced the doorway, toed off his boots and socks and then stepped over the line.

Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes went dark, shuddering involuntarily as the blackness creeped over them once more. Kurt held out his hand, palm down, and whispered a few words that Blaine couldn't understand.

Then, Santana was sparking and growing larger. There was a burst of light and color that filled the room, so bright Blaine was forced to cover his eyes. There were several popping and groaning noises, and the stairs under him shuddered briefly. Then, just as soon as it had begun, it stopped.

Blinking, Blaine lowered his arm and glanced around. The living room area had shrunk a bit lengthwise, his mattress had disappeared, and there was a door in the corner where his bed had once been. The fireplace had grown in size and had a larger hearth. Kurt was gently placing Santana in her new home.

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed, having finally opened her eyes and looked around. "I have to go see my room!" Blaine laughed, watching as she scampered up the wooden stairs with a new black railing.

"Would you like to see your room, Blaine?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine stared down at him. "M-my room?"

Kurt grinned. "Of course, silly. You didn't think I wouldn't make one for you, now would you?"

Blaine made his way down the stairs and, with a smile, took Kurt's offered hand, letting him tug him towards the new door in the corner. When he opened it, he was met with a strong sense of nostalgia.

It wasn't just any bedroom. It was his bedroom. His exact bedroom from his home in Westerville, down to the same color carpet and blue walls. He sucked in a breath as tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. He hadn't realized how much he missed his family until now.

Kurt seemed to sense his emotions, tugging him away from the door and closing it behind him. "There will be more time for that later," he whispered gently. Blaine nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.

"Kurt! Kurt, where have we moved to?" Rachel shouted as she bounded down the stairs giddly.

Kurt laughed. "Go and see! Turn to the red one."

Rachel let out a squeal and ran to do so. Blaine made to follow her but Kurt held him back.

"Oh trust me, you've been there before. Let Rachel explore a bit. I have someplace else I want to show you," he said.

Blaine looked at him and nodded. When he turned back to watch Rachel, he saw her opening a door into a familiar, cobblestoned courtyard surrounded by large brick walls on all four sides. His eyes widened as he took in the familiar scene that Rachel and Pavarotti were walking and flying into.

"Kurt?" he asked, turning to look at the wizard. "But – how?"

Kurt chuckled, wrapping an arm around Blaine's waist and pulling him close. "Rachel explained it to you didn't she? I can make us a doorway anywhere, just so long as there's already one where I plan on going."

"But…Dalton. Kurt. It's my school."

Kurt smiled softly down at him, dark blue eyes soft as he gazed in Blaine's. "I know how happy you were there, and how much you miss it. And don't worry about the students. It's summer vacation, remember? Most of them are gone. And this is only temporary."

"But…where are we? In Dalton, I mean?" Blaine was trying to wrap his head around the fact that they were in Dalton, a school of all things. And the doorway led to a courtyard but the only entrances to this courtyard were from hallways…

"We're in the hallway you first led me down, remember?" Kurt murmured into his ear, hot breath ghosting across Blaine lobe. Blaine let out a gasp as a shiver ran down his spine. He turned his head to look at Kurt, and discovered their faces were closer than they had been since the day they first met. Kurt's breath blew across his lips, sending more swooping feelings through his stomach as his heart began to pound faster in his chest.

But then Kurt was gone, leaving Blaine blinking and swaying on his feet as the daze he was in left him. There was a soft clicking noise and Blaine glanced over at the doorway to see that Kurt had shut it and was now turning the dial once, twice, until it landed on

(8): Pink

Blaine struggled to make out the blurry image that was slowly fading into focus. There was a tree, its branches bare and twisted, while those off in the distance still had warm-colored leaves dotting theirs. The sky was dark and filled with winking stars and as he finally stepped onto firm ground, it crunched under him, revealing old crinkly leaves covered in a frost.

He recognized it immediately.

"My mother brought me here when I was younger, right before she died," Kurt had said, leading Blaine from the shed door that had been built, as Kurt said, by his father as a gift to his mother. "It was where they first met," he told him. "But without a door…there was no way for her to get a portal here. So my dad built one."

"It's beautiful," Blaine breathed, taking in the soft green grass, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees, and the soft breeze that blew across his forehead. "But why are you showing this to me?"

"It's for you, Blaine."

Blaine turned and gaped at Kurt, who was biting his lower lip gently.

"Me?"

"A, present, of sorts. I wanted a place where you and I could go together. A place just for us. That no one else knows about."

Blaine smiled, heart swelling with so much emotion as he reached up and cupped Kurt's jaw, marveling in the way Kurt leaned into his touch, smiling against his palm.

"Somewhere only we know?" he whispered.

Kurt nodded. "Somewhere only we know."

Blaine shook his head out of the memory, trying not to dwell on that moment. Instead he looked around the cord, autumn scene, sad and dying ad a cold wind bit at his fingers. Pavarotti trilled sadly and landed on his shoulder, burying into Blaine's neck. He reached up with two fingers and absentmindedly stroked the shivering bird.

He began walking along the path he and Kurt had taken before, winding through the trees and shadows, with a couple lamps glowing to light the way. There, as he turned a bend, he saw a figure standing at the edge of the treeline, in the clearing he had taken him to that day. He was standing, head tilted up towards the sky.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered to himself, pausing to stare at the wizard, wondering when this was for him. He knew it was a memory he had stepped into. There was something about the feel of it – real, but off, as if he could fall through the ground at any moment. But Kurt was as tall as Blaine knew him to be. So the memory had to be recent.

There was a flash of light in the sky, followed by another, and then another. Soon the sky above Kurt was filled as stars rained down, setting a soft glow that lit up his face and torso. Even from here Blaine could see the tear tracks on his cheeks.

There was a burst nearby and he jumped, turning to see a white ball of light zooming toward the ground and then with a hiss it turned into a light-figure like the ones that had surrounded Karofsky at McKinley. It skipped across the dead leaves for a few paces, before stumbling and fading out.

Blaine began to run.

"Kurt!" he shouted, trying to get his attention, as Pav twittered nervously in his ear, his talons gripping tight so that he didn't fall off.

But Kurt hadn't heard him, moving farther into the clearing, shining eyes reflecting the falling stars as he reached out his cupped hands and with a splash of light caught one.

"Kurt!"

It was like running in a dream, Blaine realized. The faster he tried to run, the heavier his legs seemed to feel, dragging along as he struggled to reach the boy he loved. He watched helplessly as Kurt bent over the glowing ball of energy in his hands, his face glowing in the light from the fallen star. Blaine was so close to the edge of the clearing now-

Kurt tipped his head back, bringing his hands to his lips, and then the star was gone.

"No, Kurt," he pleaded, slowing to a stop as he reached the edge of the grass. Blaine watched as he grimaced in pain, bending over double and clutching at his chest. It pained him to see Kurt in pain, but it didn't seem to last for long. Because then Kurt was standing up straighter, and he was removing his hands from his chest, bringing with them an orange and yellow ball of flame that Blaine recognized instantly.

There was a rushing noise and then he really was falling through the ground.

There was a hole beneath him, but it was if he were falling in slow-motion, as a large gust of wind kept him from free-falling into the dark void beneath his dangling feet.

"Kurt!" he shouted. "Santana!"

Kurt whipped his head around to look at him as the fire in his hands peered over his fingertips to see who was shouting her name.

"It's me, Blaine!" he shouted as the ground began to swallow him and the memory began to fade. "I know how to save you now, Kurt! Find me at Dalton!"

And then everything was black.

Blaine was floating, spinning lazily in darkness until gravity seemed to decide on a center and then he was moving forward, Pav chirping quietly in his ear, as he neared a blurry outline of a door, and then he was through and there was Kurt, waiting for him.

"Oh, Kurt," he whispered as the tears he had been holding back for so long finally made their escape.

The wizard he knew was gone. In his place was a large, human-sized bird with thick black wings and large talons the color of night. Its face was still Kurt's, but his eyes were black, cold and unseeing. Blaine stepped forward, pressing a hand against Kurt's cheek, and letting out a quiet sob when he didn't respond.

"How long has he been like this?" he whispered.

"He came back about an hour ago. You were gone for so long, Blaine," Rachel said from somewhere to his left, but Blaine couldn't turn his head to look at her. "Have you figured it out then?"

Blaine nodded and sniffed, stepping back from the large blackbird and lifting up his arm to wipe his eyes on the edge of his sleeve. Then, blinking away the cloudiness of his vision he turned and walked over to the fireplace.

"Santana?" he spoke quietly.

"What do you want, ladykins?"

"To set you free."

"I-what?"

Blaine began reaching forward, putting his hand close to Santana's flames, which were warm against his palm, but not searing hot.

"Blaine!" Rachel squeaked. "What are you doing? You'll burn yourself!"

"No I won't," Blaine told her. And he gently reached out and slid his cupped palm under Kurt's heart.

"What are you doing, Anderson? Put me down! I'm gonna burn out if you don't put me back on that log right now, you gayface nitwit!"

"Don't worry, Santana. Nothing's going to happen to you," Blaine said as he turned around and made his way back to Kurt. He stood in front of the large bird, his dark eyes still staring out into nothing, holding the flames that surrounded his heart, letting them lick warmly over his hands. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against Kurt's, feeling the edges of the feathers tickling his skin and bit back a sob. Quietly, he whispered, "Please come back to me, Kurt."

And then, cupping Santana gently, he pressed her against Kurt's chest, right where his heart was meant to be, and pushed.

Kurt's eyes flew wide open in shock as a bright ball of energy flew from his chest and flitted around the room, singing her praises at being free. The body under Blaine's hands shuddered and he watched as the feathers melted away, disappearing to reveal the body of Kurt Hummel, clothes torn and skin cut from battle wounds. His eyelids closed and his body slumped into Blaine's waiting arms, who cradled him gently as he carefully lay him down on the ground.

Brushing back Kurt's soft chestnut hair, Blaine found himself humming gently to him. Quietly, he began to sing, wiling Kurt to hear him.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to be free."

"Blaine?" Kurt whimpered before opening his eyes. Blaine let out a sob as he looked down into the clear blue eyes he had thought he would never see again.

"Oh, there you are," he murmured as Kurt reached up with a hand to cup his cheek gently. His breath hitched as a soft thumb smoothed over his cheek, wiping at a tear as it fell. He leaned into Kurt's hand, reaching up a hand to keep it pressed against his cheek for a moment, before slipping his fingers through Kurt's. "I've been looking for you forever."

And then he was surging forward, lips finding lips, tears mingling on salty skin as both boys shuddered against one another, their breaths escaping into each other's mouths with a gasp. Blaine pressed closer to Kurt, whimpering softly as Kurt reached up to grip his waist and pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

They finally broke apart, gasping for breath, and lay there, on the hardwood floor, with their foreheads pressed together and bodies shaking with emotion, panting heavily. Kurt smiled up at Blaine, who returned it easily.

"Hey, loverboys, now that you got your mack on, mind letting me out so I can leave?"

Blinking, the boys pulled apart to look at Santana, who was still a ball of glowing colors and hovering in the air near the window. They looked at Rachel, who was crying loudly into a handkerchief and was ignoring them completely.

"You don't want to stay, Santana?" Kurt asked. "You're welcome to."

"Thanks for the offer, Ladyface, but I've gots me a gal waiting back home and I promised her I would come back. And I am no breaker of promises."

"It's okay," Rachel sniffed as Blaine moved to get up. She waved at him to stay where he was, blowing her nose loudly in the process. "I've got it."

She walked over to the window and pushed it open.

"Thanks, Berry."

Rachel smiled. "Anytime, Santana."

"Adios, putas!" Santana sang as she sped out the window and disappeared into the sky.

Rachel let out a hiccupy giggle and turned back to the boys, who were still on the floor and looking dopily at each other again.

"I'll just leave you two alone," she said. "Come on, Pav."

Blaine leaned down and pressed another soft kiss to Kurt's mouth, who hummed happily against him, clutching his bicep and returning the kiss eagerly. They pulled away again to matching grins, both blushing as they let out breathy laughs.

"Can we…can we move this somewhere more comfortable?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh! Of course!" He scrambled to his feet quickly, and then leaned down to offer his hand to Kurt, who took it graciously. Blaine pulled him to his feet, worry instantly crossing his mind as Kurt let out a groan of pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked, steadying Kurt as he swayed where he stood.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I guess I just got a little used to not having a heart in my chest."

Blaine led him over to the couch, where the sat down, Blaine leaning against the arm while Kurt curled into his chest, resting his head against the crook of Blaine's neck. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him in closer and resting his cheek on his head. Kurt began lightly tracing his fingers along Blaine's forearms, sending shivers up and down his back.

"Kurt?" he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do now? Now that your demon is gone?"

Kurt's hand paused briefly, before resuming again. "I hadn't really thought about it yet. I suppose I might return to my apprenticeship. Not the one with Sue," he added quickly. He sighed. "But that leaves Mr. Schue and while he's nice and all his teaching methods were a little…lacking, so to speak." He paused again, fingers stroking the inside of Blaine's wrist as he thought. "I think though…I think I'd first like to see my dad again."

Blaine craned his neck to look at Kurt, who was blinking rapidly and reaching up to wipe at his eyes.

"It's just that…after he got out of the hospital, I was so scared to let him see me…like I was. A coward."

Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt. "No, Kurt. You were never a coward."

Kurt sniffed. "Yes, I was."

"No," Blaine said adamantly. "You weren't. You were just lonely. It's perfectly understandable."

"Gosh," Kurt said, leaning his head back against Blaine's shoulder. "I wish I had met you before I made that stupid decision."

Blaine pressed a kiss to the top of Kurt's head. "Well, you have me now."

Kurt tilted his head and smiled up at him. "And I couldn't be prouder."

Blaine was confused. "For what?"

"You broke your curse, silly. That's no small feat for a human, you know."

"I…did?"

Kurt let out a laugh, pushing away and turning to face Blaine. "Yes, Blaine. You did."

"But…how?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's different for everyone, for every type of curse. For some it requires true love's kiss, for others a potion. But for a few… it requires some sort of self-discovery. For you, Blaine, I think that was your courage and your pride. You found your bravery to stand up for yourself, and then you figured out how to be proud of yourself, instead of letting yourself continue this belief that you weren't good enough. But trust me, Blaine. I don't think anyone could be more proud of you than I am right now."

Blaine's breath hitched as tears threatened to flow again, smiling against the kiss Kurt pressed against his lips, before returning it with as much force, reaching up to wrap his arms around Kurt's neck and pull him in closer.

He whimpered when Kurt pulled back a bit, resting their foreheads together as he straddled Blaine's waist – how did he get there? – and breathing heavily.

"Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Thank you."

Blaine blinked open his eyes in confusion. Kurt was staring at him with eyes of blue swirling into grey and green and for a moment Blaine forgot how to breathe. Again.

"For what?"

Kurt smiled. "You saved me."

Blaine shook his head gently before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against the corner of Kurt's mouth.

"No," he whispered. "We saved each other."

(1): Blue

The second time Kurt met Blaine was three weeks after the night under the stars. He was just winding his way down the stairs at Dalton, when he reached out to the first person he saw, and caught his attention.

"Excuse me, could I ask you a question? I'm new here."

A familiar smile. Bright honey-colored eyes that were forever engrained in his mind. A hand, extended.

"My name's Blaine."

He knew that, of course. But he couldn't tell him that. So instead he smiled, took the offered hand in his, and replied.

"Kurt."

Fin