Chapter 5

The things we have to do without

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Kurt stares disbelievingly after Blaine, unpleasant memories of the last time his boyfriend did this to him invading his mind. At least at Scandals Kurt had a clear sense of what was wrong, but this time Blaine has just taken off quietly and without warning, and it unnerves Kurt more than he would like.

He turns to look at Finn and Rachel, the former looking as confused as ever and the latter looking about as helpless as Kurt feels. The seconds tick by, no one feeling like breaking the silence.

'Get in the car,' Kurt orders suddenly, striding around to the driver's side of the car. 'Get in or I'm leaving you here,' he adds a bit more firmly, when no one moves to obey. 'I'm not kidding.'

That does it, and thirty seconds later they are all in the car, driving slowly back the way they came, and looking around for any sign of Blaine.

'Kurt, do you think maybe he wants to be left alone?' Rachel's voice is careful next to him.

'Of course he does,' Kurt snaps. Blaine isn't the type to use a stunt like this as a cry for help. He buries stuff or he talks about it. Which is why Kurt is so bothered that Blaine would just take off. 'But it's not about what he wants right now. We can't just leave him out here by himself.'

Kurt slows down at an intersection. They are a little outside Lima and if Blaine was headed back there, he would have continued straight ahead. But where – if anywhere – is Blaine headed? Kurt squints left and right, trying to make out any pedestrians in the dark, but the streets are empty except for the few cars that join theirs. In the end Kurt crosses the intersection towards Lima, hoping that Blaine did the same.

'Dude, I think maybe we passed him,' Finn says from the back seat. 'No way he got this far before us.'

'We'd have seen him,' Kurt protests, but he knows Finn is right. Blaine didn't get that much of a head start.

'He really doesn't want to be found,' Rachel concludes quietly. 'Did he say anything to you?'

'No. Literally in fact,' Kurt realizes, and he sighs in frustration. Why couldn't Blaine have just talked to him and asked for space if that is what he needed? Kurt would have understood. Really, he would.

'Hold on, I'm sitting on something,' Rachel informs them. Kurt raises an eyebrow and he almost says 'Your ass?' but then Rachel pulls out the object from under her and holds it up. 'Why am I sitting on your wallet?'

Kurt's mouth falls open slightly, his eyes darting to the small compartment underneath the radio, where he usually keeps his wallet, when he's in the car. Then realization dawns.

'Check it. How much money is in there?'

'About... twenty dollars?'

Kurt groans and slams his hands on the steering wheel, causing them to swerve slightly.

'He took money?' Finn asks. 'What does that mean?'

'It means,' Kurt says with a restrained sort of calm. 'That Blaine could be anywhere.'

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Half an hour later they have dropped Finn off at home, agreeing that he should stay there in case Blaine decides to show up by himself, and Kurt and Rachel have taken separate cars and are searching for Blaine in different parts of town. There had been a brief discussion about whether they should even be looking for him, seeing as Blaine isn't a child and can probably look after himself. Kurt had pointed out then that at this point they have no idea what is going to work as far as switching Blaine back. What if it somehow happens while he is out on his own? Seventeen-year-old Blaine might not have any idea where he is.

And if Kurt is honest, he thinks to himself as he parks at the bus station some time later, he would just like to know where Blaine is, because the uncertainty is killing him. This not knowing what Blaine is thinking or planning to do. Mostly he really wants to shake the feeling that, despite promising that he wouldn't, Blaine has left him.

'Hi,' Kurt addresses the bored-looking woman behind the counter, after checking every corner of the bus station for Blaine. 'I was wondering if maybe you'd seen my … friend. He'd be a little shorter than me. Dark curly hair. About thirty years old.'

'Sweetie, I see a lot of people in here.' The middle-aged woman sounds thoroughly disinterested. 'You're gonna have to do better than that.'

'Um, okay.' Kurt frowns for a second, before pulling out his phone and scrolling through his picture gallery, searching for a good picture of Blaine. He stops at one of the both of them from this past Valentine's Day. In it Kurt is wearing Blaine's stupidly cute heart-shaped eye-patch because Blaine had insisted that Kurt would look adorable with it. Kurt had relented and posed for the picture, his scoffing melting away at the way Blaine watched him; that particular look that he reserved for Kurt and Kurt only. Kurt's breath hitches a little. God, he misses that look. He thinks he's almost seen it a few times from this older Blaine, but a few seconds later he's always sure that he has imagined it and Blaine is just being Blaine.

'Kid?'

Kurt startles out of his reverie and he flushes a little. He quickly scrolls on, finds a photo that is just Blaine alone and shows it to the woman.

'He would look something like that. Only he's older and the hair is different. He would have come in here sometime after seven tonight.'

She glances at the photo, but shakes her head after a few seconds.

'Sorry, kid. Haven't seen him.'

Kurt sighs and thanks the woman before leaving, a mixture of relief and disappointment flowing through him as he gets back in his car. He supposes he should be glad that it seems that at least Blaine isn't upset enough to actually be leaving town, but on the other hand, Kurt is no closer to finding him now than he was an hour ago.

Suddenly a thought occurs to Kurt and it's so simple he wonders why none of them have thought of it before: Blaine's parents' house. His parents are away at the moment as they so often are, so the house is empty, and Blaine could let himself in with the spare key they keep under the potted plant on the porch. It would only make sense for him to go there, wouldn't it?

A long car ride later Kurt parks in front the Anderson house, and he makes his way up the garden path slowly, taking in the dark windows and his heart sinks a little. But, having come all this way, he decides to poke his head in anyway.

'Blaine?' Kurt calls cautiously after letting himself in and replacing the key. 'Are you here?'

Kurt closes the door behind him and, after checking the kitchen and the living room, he makes his way upstairs. He calls Blaine's name again, a little louder this time, but receives no response. He pokes his head into every room until finally he reaches Blaine's bedroom at the end of the hall.

Kurt knocks gently on the door, but a second later he opens it to find the room just as dark and empty as the rest of the house. He turns on the light and takes in the room as he leans back against the door, closing it. The room looks undisturbed and as tidy as ever, Kurt notes, clearly wrong in his assumption that Blaine would come here. As Kurt steps further into the room, an uncanny feeling of home washes over him. He runs his fingers lightly over the dark wood dresser, smiling faintly at the many strange artifacts cluttering its surface. Kurt has heard a story about each of them, told by a typically eager Blaine.

In some ways this, just being here in Blaine's bedroom, is the closest Kurt has been to him in days. His Blaine. The one he can still call his boyfriend. The other, older Blaine is grown and handsome and still so wonderfully Blaine, but at the same time he's not the Blaine that Kurt knows. He feels, well, older and guarded in a way Kurt isn't used to. Sure, Kurt loves this incarnation of his boyfriend every bit as much, but he also finds himself somewhat confused by him.

Kurt drops down on the bed and, without really thinking, he lies back on it, resting his head on one of the pillows. He thinks he can still smell his Blaine on it. He pulls the other pillow towards him, hugging it and breathing in deeply, losing himself in the familiar scent of his boyfriend. Before he knows it, Kurt's eyes are wet and he's crying for the first time since pulling Blaine out of the car three days ago. Within minutes he is properly sobbing and his whole body is shaking with the force of it, suddenly so overwhelmed with everything. Kurt hugs the pillow tighter and tighter, and he burrows deeper into the one under his head, not entirely sure if he's torturing or comforting himself.

Kurt isn't sure how long he lies like that, but eventually his sobs die down and his breathing deepens and evens until finally sleep overtakes him.

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'Another, please,' Blaine rasps, slamming his now empty glass on the counter a little more forcefully than he intends. 'Make it a double.'

'You okay, man?' The bartender raises an eyebrow at Blaine, whose eyes are mostly on his glass as it fills back up. He grabs it again and takes a large gulp, relishing the burn in his throat. He shakes his head, giving a humorless laugh.

'Not even remotely. It's not like I'm here for the ambiance.' He looks pointedly around the small, dimly-lit and mostly empty room.

'Point taken,' the bartender chuckles, looking far too happy for Blaine's liking. He gives Blaine an appraising look. 'Let me guess. Wife giving you a hard time?'

Blaine grimaces.

'Hardly.'

Blaine doesn't explain further. He may be long past apologizing for his sexuality, but this is still Ohio 2012, and he doesn't think he can deal with homophobia on top of everything else. And he really didn't come here to pour his heart out, anyway.

'What is it then?' the guy presses. 'Come on, you can tell me. You know, listening to other people's problems is, like, half my job.'

Blaine swirls his drink and takes another swig, as he imagines what kind of reaction telling this stranger his problems would get him. He smiles wryly.

'No thanks. No offense, I'm sure you're very good at your job.'

The bartender shrugs and gives Blaine a look that says 'suit yourself', before leaving him to serve another customer in the other end of the bar. Blaine sighs and lets his head drop, forehead resting for a minute on his hands on the table. He feels the alcohol starting to affect him, making his head pleasantly fuzzy. It's not enough though. He lifts his head to take another sip.

Blaine feels bad for taking off without warning, and he wonders how Kurt and the others reacted. He feels another twinge of guilt at the money he took from Kurt's wallet. The money that he is now spending on the worst whiskey ever in what is probably the lowliest bar in Lima. He makes a mental note to pay Kurt back somehow. And to never tell him where he spent it. Blaine knows he shouldn't have taken off like that, but he had been so disappointed to see their plan fail again, and then overwhelmed at the thought of facing an unknown number of days here, while they search for a solution. It had all just felt like too much. Still does. Blaine takes another gulp, willing himself to forget, and another, emptying his glass.

He catches the bartenders eye, waving his empty glass at him. The guy comes over but doesn't otherwise move to fill Blaine's request for more booze, holding the bottle hostage and giving Blaine an expectant 'Well?' look. Blaine groans audibly. Of all the bars in Lima he has managed to find his way to the one with the most annoying bartender.

'It's complicated,' Blaine tells him, but the man just looks intrigued.

'I love complicated.'

Blaine rolls his eyes at him.

'Less talk. More alcohol.' Blaine nudges his glass a little, feeling grateful as the bartender obliges, and he gulps down half of it in one go.

'Uh oh,' the bartender says somewhere above him, and Blaine looks up to see him looking off somewhere behind Blaine. 'Here comes trouble.'

Blaine shifts in his seat and looks around to see Rachel and he lets out another loud groan.

'Sure it's not wife troubles?' the bartender asks, sounding a little amused.

'She's not my wife,' Blaine tells him, watching warily as Rachel approaches, looking none too happy with him.

'Mistress?' the other man tries.

'Ew, no. More like sister. Hi Rachel.'

Blaine addresses the last part to Rachel who has come to a halt in front of him, her hands on her hips. As she continues to watch him silently, Blaine braces himself for some sort of reprimand, but it never comes. Instead she sighs heavily and grabs him gently but firmly by the upper arm, pulling him to his feet and telling him, 'Come on, I'm taking you home.'

'No, I wanna stay,' Blaine protests, embarrassed when it comes out as a whine, and only now noticing that he's dizzy and slurring his speech like a drunk person. Which he is. Drunk, that is. How did that happen? Right. Drink. In his hand. He raises it to take another sip, but Rachel takes it from him. 'Hey!'

'No, come on, you've had enough,' she tells him and sets the glass down out of his reach. Admitting defeat, and silently admitting that maybe he has had enough to drink (and definitely enough of that bartender who is now watching the two of them with an amused sort of expression – doesn't he have other customers?), Blaine sighs and makes to pay for his drinks, but Rachel slaps his hand away. 'That's Kurt's money, Blaine,' she tells him sternly and pays with her own money instead.

Blaine lets her pay though he doesn't understand how that makes anything better. That would be nice, he thinks vaguely, if money could fix things. Before he can get lost in that train of thought, however, Rachel has him by the arm again, and is dragging him out of there, Blaine stumbling after her, none too steady on his feet. She doesn't let go of him until they reach the car, which she unlocks as Blaine sways a little on the spot, putting a hand on the car to steady himself.

'Are you okay? Do you need to barf?' Blaine shakes his head no. No, he doesn't need to barf. No, he's not okay. 'Come on, get in then. I'm taking you home. Kurt is worried sick.'

Blaine looks at her then, suddenly a little panicked.

'No. I can't go- can't see him- not like this-'

'Hey, calm down, sweetie.' Rachel is speaking softly and squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. 'This is not the first time Kurt has seen you drunk.'

But that's not what Blaine means.

'Please, I can't. Not tonight. Take me to my parents' house instead?'

When Rachel looks reluctant Blaine tries his puppy eyes on her, which right now are drunk puppy eyes, and he wonders if they work the same. At the thought of drunk puppies, Blaine almost giggles despite himself.

'Fine,' Rachel sighs. 'But you're coming back tomorrow. We still need to figure this mess out.'

Blaine doesn't answer her, doesn't have it in him to think about that right now, so he just gets in the car. Rachel joins him a second later, and he watches her, confused as, instead of starting the car, she pulls out her phone and starts texting.

'I'm just texting the boys to let them know you're okay.'

There's that word again. Okay.

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Kurt jerks awake to the feeling of something vibrating against his thigh. He blinks a few times, momentarily confused before he remembers where he is, and oh, his phone is ringing in his pocket. He digs it out, but is too late to answer the call, which turns out to be from Finn. He also has two unread text messages. The first one is from Rachel.

Found him! :) He's okay. I'm taking him home now. xo

Kurt's face is stiff and tear-streaked from earlier, but a smile spreads across it at the good news, and Kurt feels himself relaxing in a way he hadn't done even while sleeping. The other text is from Finn about twenty minutes ago.

K, where are you? Didn't you get Rachel's text? Blaine's alright. You can stop looking.

Jesus, how long has he been sleeping? Kurt stifles a yawn and types a quick reply to both Finn and Rachel, telling them that he's own his way home now, before hopping off the bed. He stops in front of the mirror to fix his hair and make sure that his face doesn't look like something out of a horror movie, before he switches off the light and slips out of the room. He pads back downstairs quietly, feeling oddly like he should be mindful about making noise despite knowing that the house is empty. Habit, he supposes as he heads for the front door, bracing himself for the cool evening air outside.

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'Here.' Rachel places a cup of steaming hot coffee before Blaine. They are in the kitchen of his parents' house, which looks almost the same now as it will do in fifteen years. Were it not for Rachel standing over him, looking mildly concerned, Blaine would almost be able to pretend that he was home again.

'Thanks.' Blaine doesn't meet Rachel's eye, preferring instead to keep his focus on the coffee in front of him. His head is starting to clear a little, which has several side effects, including the fact that he's starting to feel more than a little embarrassed at the whole situation.

'Look, I'm sorry you had to see me like that-' he begins, but Rachel lifts her hand, brushing him off.

'Please, I've seen you behave much worse sober.' She winks and sends him a small smile.

'I think you'll find that I don't actually stumble around, slurring my speech that much when I'm sober,' Blaine says, trying to match Rachel's lightheartedness.

'Don't worry about it.' Rachel sits down opposite Blaine at the kitchen table, and her voice is soft when she continues. 'I'm more interested in why you went to a bar in the first place.'

She's watching him again with that same scrutinizing look, like she knows more than she should.

'Why does anyone go to a bar?' he evades, avoiding her gaze and sipping at his coffee.

'Loads of reasons that I can count,' she shrugs.

She doesn't press further, but she keeps watching him, and Blaine grows uncomfortable under her gaze, the harsh light of the kitchen making him feel like he's on a stage and Rachel can read every emotion on his face. Finally he gets to his feet, finding refuge in the softer lit living room. He sags down in the middle of the couch, shoulders hunched and staring at his feet. Rachel joins him quietly a few seconds later, and he absently registers when she places his half-empty cup on the coffee table in front of him and sits herself down next to him.

Since getting here Blaine has become so good at pretending that everything is fine, at ignoring and pushing away the pain and the ache in his chest. It's an ache he hadn't felt in years, but that had started to form again the moment he was pulled out of that car. And he had held on for dear life in the sure hope and knowledge that it would soon be over, that he would be back home before he knew it. But now it feels like he has lost his grip and he just doesn't know how to get it back.

Blaine can feel Rachel next to him, sitting close enough that he can sense her warmth through two layers of clothing. It makes him shiver for some reason. He doesn't need to meet her gaze to know that her eyes are on him, not demanding but warm and full of tenderness. She moves to put a comforting hand on his knee, letting it rest there softly.

'It's just so hard,' Blaine says then. 'So much harder than I could have imagined. Not that I really spent any time imagining this,' he says, giving a dry humorless chuckle. Next to him Rachel is silent, knowing her input is not needed for this.

'And Kurt is so wonderful.' The words are starting to tumble out now, unfiltered and almost tripping over each other. 'So young, and so hopeful about everything. I should feel really lucky that I get to be here, I know; to experience this. Him. God, I used to dream about this. Going back, back before everything. But this; this being here without really being here. It's... not what I wanted. It's almost cruel.'

'And he looks at me like- like I'm him, like I'm that seventeen-year-old boy he loves. And I want to be that for him, but I just can't. Not when-' Blaine bites his lip, knows he should stop, that he shouldn't be saying any of this. Maybe it's Rachel, so earnest and ready to listen next to him, or maybe it's the alcohol still in his system, but now that he has begun talking, Blaine finds himself unable to stop, the words spilling from his mouth of their own accord.

'And then he's talking about marriage and kissing, and just being in the same room as him is hard, and god, his singing, and I just-' Blaine voice tightens, and he thinks it might physically hurt him to continue, but he has to. Even though he shouldn't – he really, really shouldn't – god, he has to.

'Blaine.' Rachel is speaking for the first time in minutes, and it's just his name, but it's so kind, so full of compassion, and something in Blaine crumbles at the sound. And then she's cupping the side of his face gently, forcing him to look at her. The final words spill from his mouth, like poison from a wound except it doesn't make him feel any better.

'We're not together. Me and him. In the future. Kurt- he's going to leave me.'

Blaine manages to keep it together at first, but at the last words his voice breaks, matching his heart, broken such a long time ago. He doesn't see how Rachel reacts, his vision clouded by his own tears, but the next thing he knows he is being drawn into a tight hug. Absently hating himself for falling apart like this, Blaine lets her hold him there for a while, soft murmurs of comfort in his ear and a single finger stroking his back gently.

Suddenly Rachel tenses and she pulls back from him, a hand on either shoulder. Blaine brushes away a tear and looks at her quizzically, but she is staring off somewhere behind him, her eyes wide with what could possibly be horror. Feeling cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach, Blaine spins around to find, standing in the now open doorway to the hall, the one person who was never ever meant to hear anything Blaine said tonight, a look of absolute shock and heartbreak painted on his face.

'Kurt,' Blaine croaks.

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Thank you for the reviews and all the subscription/favorite alerts. It's much appreciated. Keep them coming! :) The quote this time around is from 'Let Love In' by (duh) the Goo Goo Dolls.

Easter Break is coming up so I should be able to update again fairly soonish. Three more parts to go!