"You know you don't have to do this?" Kurt told Jeff softly, as he clasped their fingers together.

Three weeks had passed since graduation, and despite Nick's pleas, Jeff did not renege on his decision. And so, after one last attempt, Nick had washed his hands of the entire situation, and had walked away from Jeff, not knowing if he would ever see him alive again. Only Kurt and Blaine went to the airport to say a final goodbye to him, something that Jeff admitted he was fine with. "You're the one I'm going to miss most Kurt," he said, before, rather flippantly adding, "oh and you too Blaine," before dancing away as the said teenager tried to tap him.

Kurt laughed silently at their antics, focussing on that, the joy he felt watching them together and not on the melancholy fact that soon enough, Jeff's grandparents would return and tell him that it was time to go. Eventually, Jeff broke away from Blaine and came back to where Kurt was standing. Meeting his gaze, Kurt saw that he was not the only one having conflicting emotions, and so he reached out and took his hand into his.

"You can stay if you want to." Kurt said, his voice reflecting his contrasting emotions. "It's not too late."

Jeff's lips tilted upwards in a sombre smile. His expression said it all; even if it was hard, he wanted to go. Kurt nodded, swallowing deeply, and settled for squeezing his hand tighter. "I'll miss you Jeff. So very much."

Jeff nodded, quick and jerky and Kurt saw the way his eyes were starting to moisten with unshed tears. "Permission Blaine?" Jeff asked, after a moment, his free hand lifting to cup Kurt's cheek.

Blaine, who had stood a little way away from them to give them a bit of privacy, looked between the two of them before responding, "Just this once."

"Afraid he'll come with me?" Jeff quipped, before leaning forward. Kurt met him halfway, and their lips met in a gentle kiss, their first since that chaotic night oh so long ago. Kurt inhaled into it, trying to convey all his feelings and emotions, all the things that just could not be said to Jeff through that kiss, and he knew that Jeff was doing the same. When they finally parted, Kurt felt a bit freer inside, and so, was able to hug him and keep a genuine smile on his face, minutes later when, walking between his grandparents, Jeff turned and gave him one final smile before he disappeared from view.

"Blaine," Kurt said shakily, his tone slightly lost, once he had faded from view, and instantly he felt his boyfriend's sturdy arms wrap around him as Blaine pulled him into his chest, kissing the top of his head.

"He'll be back, poppet," Blaine promised, hugging him close. "Don't worry. He will be back one day."

That one day did eventually come, and frankly, a lot sooner than anyone could have imagined. A few days after Nick had returned to his home in Westerville after the successful conclusion of his second year, he would hear, and ignore, the sound of a car coming up the gravel-covered road to his parent's house. He would ignore the way his phone lit up because he wasn't quite in the mood to deal with anyone. What he could not ignore was a distinctive six patterned rap on his door minutes later, a sound composed years ago in a tent pitched in the yard between two little boys determined to create a code they could call their own. He would sit up then and stare at his door in disbelief as it creaked open and he would find Jeff standing there, taller, far too thin and considerably longer-haired. But it would be him, his Jeff. They would embrace long and hard before tumbling back onto the floor of his room, both talking too quickly, their words indiscernible between laughs and some tears. It would be up to Nick's mother, passing, to smile fondly at them before closing the door and telling her husband to call his best friend, whom, as she rightfully suspected given the suitcases that Jeff had left in the foyer, had no idea that his grandson had returned to the states.

Everyone would receive a different answer as to why he had chosen to return. To his grandparents he would simply shrug and reply that he had found nothing in England to warrant him remaining there. His grandparents, doubtful, but relieved, would work their magic. Yale would accept him; his earned credits would transfer and he would start again. To everyone's chagrin he would switch a semester later to Columbia because "I needs me more Kurtsie," but his education would settle down from there.

To Kurt he would admit a crippling loneliness and isolation that had driven him to despair. The same desire for a fresh start had worked against him; no one had seemed accepting of his eccentric behaviour, and fed-up, he had returned to the place where it seemed that he belonged.

To Nick he would admit the nearest thing to the truth. That he had made a choice that very day he had arrived at his home in Westerville, hungry, exhausted and so goddam alone. In his left hand he had held a plane ticket, in his right a bottle of pills. Nick would crush his head into his shoulder, and whisper a prayer of relief to a God he rarely acknowledged that Jeff had gotten onto that plane. He had not lost his best friend, and as far as he was concerned, everything would now be okay.

They would decide against becoming roommates at first, but would eventually end up spending so much time at each other's apartments that, as Jeff would tell Kurt, Nick had showed up one day for a movie night, and never returned to his own place again. It was not smooth sailing, far from it. Nick would never be able to fulfil that rash promise to fall in love with Jeff, but truthfully, Jeff had never expected, nor wanted that to be the case. He had accepted that while they were indeed what people would deem soulmates, the love between them was not meant to surpass the platonic stage.

With time, therapy, and, in Jeff's final Undergraduate year, a ridiculously handsome and witty teaching assistant, he would go on to find a deeper, true love with someone who could and would return his feelings with equal ferocity. And though he would forever battle depression, it would never again, take over his life. He, surprisingly ended up married before Nick, and all who knew them from the start would laugh at the bemused expression on his husband and Nick's long-term girlfriend turned eventual wife' faces when, right there, in the middle of the reception, Nick would tip Jeff over for a congratulatory kiss.

No one could ever claim the nature of their friendship to be normal, but it was a friendship that would last till the very end.

Finn ended up leaving first. He had wanted to get a head start in California to learn about the place he would now call home before the pressure of academics descended upon him. On his final night in his home, after ensuring that there was nothing that he had missed that would be needed immediately, he walked the short distance to Kurt's room, and, after knocking, let himself in. Kurt was on his window-sill, a booklet of class listings for Columbia in his lap. He looked around, surprised to find him the only occupant in the room.

"Where's Blaine?" he asked, as he squeezed into the window seat beside him.

"He left a while ago," Kurt explained, closing the book. "He didn't say, but I think he wanted to give us this last night alone. Did you pack everything?"

"I've gone over your list twice," Finn confirmed, while mentally making a note to text Blaine at some point. If he thought that he could get away without giving him a proper goodbye, he was mistaken. "I have everything."

"And you're sure you don't want any of us to come with you?"

Finn shook his head. "I want to do this solo kiddo."

"What if you show up and the apartment is nothing like the pictures?" Kurt groused. "What if there's already three guys and twenty seven mice living in it?"

"Then I'll have to buy twenty seven rat traps and claim a bit of space for myself," he joked, reaching out to place his hand on Kurt's knee. "I will be okay, Kurt," he said reassuringly.

"It's just...we've never been apart from each other for so long before," Kurt admitted, looking at him worriedly. "What if you wake up in the middle of the night and need me?"

Finn smiled sadly at that; Kurt was projecting his feelings onto him. "If that is the case," he answered, playing along, "I would call you, because no matter what time it was, I know that you'd be willing to talk to me until I'm ready to go back to sleep."

His little brother looked at him for a moment after that, before he nodded. "You're coming home for Thanksgiving right?"

"I am. And we're all flying out to New York for Christmas. And since all our schools thankfully share the same Reading Week, you and Blaine will come to California in the spring and we'll all come back here to Ohio for a bit in the summer."

Kurt nodded at that. "And we'll message each other every day, even if it's nonsense."

"And we'll leave long voice notes whenever we can't manage to call."

"And Skype three times a week."

"And write letters because it's a dying art."

"And we'll be okay, because we're brothers."

"And we love each other."

"And always will."

Finn would not look back after his final goodbyes, because, he knew that if he did it, he would never have been able to get on that plane. Berkeley was everything that he dreamed up and more. He made friends who respected both him and his ambitions, he was free from all the drama that had plagued him in high school, and while he was not able to care for his younger brother to the extent that he had during before, he still kept tabs on him and celebrated all of his milestones. He graduated, on time, with Honours four years later, and with recommendations in hand, and a lot of consideration, he decided that, despite the life he had made for himself in California, there was a city that he wanted to be in just a little bit more. And so, newly graduated, he and a classmate made the leap to New York, to Kurt and Blaine's joy. He would find employment, first as an intern and then as a full time employee in an office specialised on dealing with LGBTQ youths in need.

Two years on with that, after a random idea in a session produced great results, he would enrol for a Masters of Philosophy in Psychology, with a special interest in Musical Therapy. Kurt would, to his own chagrin, readily become his Guinea pig whenever required, and, Finn would go on to make deep in roads into the field. He would eventually upgrade to a full PHD and would establish a highly reputable centre of his own.

Love would find him eventually in the form of a blonde Criminologist whom he would marry after a lengthy courtship. He would ultimately lose her to the very job she dedicated her life to, but her compassion and sense of justice would live on in their twins. Like their parents, in middle-age, Finn would remarry, coming across his second wife in, of all places, Ohio, It would take a family dinner to introduce her to the clan for Blaine, after staring at her oddly for a minute, to laugh and point out the connect. She turned out to be the very same girl he had met at the Warbler's celebration party all those years ago but had never quite managed at the time to make a connection with. She, a divorcee, would bring with her to the relationship a daughter whom he would adopt and raise as his own.

He and Kurt would return to Lima, emboldened by a conversation Kurt would finally admit he had had with his former high school best friend. Determined to make a difference they would establish programmes and centres that gave Lima's children and teenagers a wide range of opportunities. With their help, the status of 'Lima Loser' would not be something a child born in the town was destined to have. Only those who failed to try would find themselves stuck in the cycle of mediocrity.

"Is it weird that I'm grateful this happened?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's head popped up from behind the lid of the suitcase he was packing. "Grateful for what, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching for a next pile of shirts.

"My arm. The attack," Kurt elaborated.

Blaine tilted his head as he looked at him. "Explain please," he bid, "and you haven't packed your meds yet."

"You are too perceptive," Kurt grumbled, and Blaine chuckled as he, reluctantly, tossed it in. "What I was saying," he continued after a moment, "I think that, as horrible as the attack was, that I'm a bit grateful that it happened."

"Why?"

Kurt twisted his mouth minutely before responding. "If I hadn't been attacked, what do you think would have happened? If Karofsky hadn't hurt me, I wouldn't have gotten enrolled into Dalton. If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have gotten to meet you. Everything would have been different, don't you think? Would I be in love now? Would I even be heading for school in New York, and if I was, to where? NYADA? I'm not sure, because I didn't become serious about my work until I got into Dalton. I could be in Rachel's position now, without a school nor a clue about what to do. Would Finn even be in Berkeley? Would the New Directions and not the Warblers have taken home the National's trophy?"

"Those are a lot of ifs and woulds," Blaine said, closing the lid. "I can't say what would have happened if you hadn't been attacked, Kurt. I would hope that somehow or another we still would have met. Maybe at Regionals? Or maybe the bullying would have gotten so bad that you would have transferred into Dalton anyway. Or maybe years into that future, I would have come across you in New York, taken one look at you and decided that yes, he's the one I've got to make mine. You complete me Kurt, filled in the blind spots in my life that I hadn't even realised that I had had until I met you. I think we are soulmates and were always meant to be, and that, if it hadn't been like this, we would have met somehow, somewhere."

"You really have that much faith in me? In us?" Kurt answered softly.

Blaine crawled over so that he was seated directly next to Kurt amidst the chaos on the floor. He lifted his left hand and tapped on the promise ring he had placed there a little under a year ago. "We gave each other these rings for a reason Kurt. It was to remind us of the love we had and the love we would always have. That love has only grown over time and I don't think that it will ever stop growing. So yes, Kurt, I have faith in you and faith in us. How can I not when the universe has given me the greatest gift it could, time with you?"

"I love you," Kurt whispered, his cheeks dusted pink by the nature of his boyfriend's words.

"And I love you," Blaine returned, cupping his cheek, "now, and always."

Their love would indeed stand the test of time. When Kurt finally moved into the apartment in New York, neither of them found any aspect of it strange. Yes they learnt of a few new habits and ticks each other had, but after a few weeks, they could scarcely recall a time when they did not live together in this common space. Blaine would graduate and join his father's company. He would compromise with him after a year; unlike him, Blaine truly could not adopt to a travelling lifestyle, especially when Kurt, for now, could not go with him. And so, he returned to school, this time at Columbia to pursue a Master Degree in Business Administration and Marketing.

Upon graduation, his father would give him control of the American side of the business, and he, over time, would relocate and manage a large sector of it in New York, his youth and innovative way of handling clients improving the yields of the company beyond what anyone could have ever expected. His father would agree to assist running the New York branch for a bit when Blaine followed his husband and brother-in-law to Ohio. Blaine would take over as the Warbler's very first Musical Director and lead them to a two year winning streak while the brothers worked on their dream. Upon his return to New York Blaine would continue with his renewed passion song and, would eventually launch a small music agency specialising in Indie and Alternative music. His mother would take an interest, and with her assistance, that venture would too become profitable, profits, Blaine would then donate yearly to worthy charities.

Kurt would find out that the pathway he had settled upon would indeed not be easy. His academic advisor had plainly laid the truth out to him; he could attend school year round for four years, and graduate on time, or else he could have more relaxed, but still hard, five years of study. Initially he decided upon the five year approach, because otherwise, he would have had no room for the internship programmes that had played such a big part in his decision to attend Columbia in the first place. And that, turned out to be a decision for the best. He successfully gained an internship at in the editorial department. But, somehow, the comments he had made on a few styles had mistakenly ended up in the folder of Isabella Wright and he had nervously found himself in a meeting with her, the result of which found him reassigned to the design department.

After his initial tenure was up, she had offered him a second internship, this time paid, independent of Columbia's programme. Bolstered by her words that he had a true, raw talent that she would love to help nurture, Kurt took her up on her offer and she became his mentor. Without regret, Kurt discontinued his participation in NYADA's courses and replaced them with graphic design ones that gave him the skills he sorely needed to do actual designing. He would upgrade his Fashion minor to a full blown major, and his eventual collection would receive the highest marks of his year.

Upon graduation, Isabelle would welcome him as a full-time employee who would gain a reputation as a fair but decisive critic as well as a recognised designer in his own rights. His designs would feature in many shows and he would come out with several lines, but there was one that he would always hold closest to his heart, his so called medical line. Kurt, at a significantly reduced cost, would sell custom designed slings, restrictors and hospital gowns to paediatric wards around the country, and eventually abroad. After all, Blaine's little embroidered designs had made the task of wearing slings easier for him and so he emulated it in the hopes that it would bring happiness to others in the same way.

His right arm would never fully recover. By his new therapist's summation he would, after five years, regain nearly seventy percent control over it, but the tremors and pains, though decreasing in frequency, would never fully go away. Although with effort he could use and control the limb, there would be a permanent weakness to it that would prevent him from ever holding or carrying anything heavy. More often than not, especially in public, he would still don a sling, not wanting anyone to be distracted away from himself and what he was capable of doing.

The most prominent exception to that fact would be on his wedding day, a few weeks after he had graduated with his undergraduate degree. They had been together for nearly ten years by then, engaged since Kurt had turned twenty one, but they had never found the need to rush into the actual ceremony. Even before they both finally signed their names onto the marriage certificate, they had been known fondly as Hummel-Anderson to all of their friends, and, the eventual progression into marriage seemed wholly natural, a change almost imperceptible.

Blaine had had to hold an irate husband back from strangling his brother and best man at the reception when Finn had, with a grin, said that he hoped that after that night that Kurt would finally lose his virginity. Kurt then turned from Finn to pummel his husband's chest, when Blaine, with a roguish grin, said, in a voice that had carried over the microphone, that that had been a state taken care of years before. Jeff standing and whooping had been the icing on the cake, and Kurt would forever groan and walk away whenever nieces and nephews and with time, their own children, sought answers to why Papa Kurt's face was such a startling state of red in the photo famed on the mantle place.