CHAPTER 12

Kurt felt it like a current running through the school.

His senses had been sharpened over the years, fine tuned to detect hostility, tension, everything that so often led to violence, so he was instantly aware of the change in the way some Dalton students looked at him.

He'd never been particularly popular, or even really liked since he'd transferred – he was the new kid; he hadn't earned anything more than neutral acknowledgement yet, maybe tinged with a little curiosity. A few of the more outgoing Warblers, including the council members, had been nice to him from the beginning, but apart from Blaine, everyone mostly left him alone.

And then he and Blaine – the cherished leader, the wildly popular darling of the Warblers – became boyfriends. It swayed the dynamics a little. Many of Blaine's avid supporters and followers (although fans really felt like a better word in some cases) suddenly acted like Kurt's new best friends, his relationship with their idol enough for them to warm up to him. Not that Kurt minded, of course – it was nice to have more people to talk to at school, especially since he and Blaine didn't share any classes.

Some of the Warblers' reactions were the polar opposite, though – a barely concealed dislike, as if it offended them that he just swooped in and snatched the best catch in school. And most of these guys weren't even gay.

But it was just gentle waves in the social pool compared to what happened after Regionals.

Okay, nothing actually happened – everything was so subtle that Kurt doubted most people noticed it at all; Blaine certainly didn't. Dalton was a zero-tolerance school, after all. The students were all classy and polite, at least on school grounds where Kurt saw them. (He always wondered if the attitude carried over when they were at home, too, or if some of them, say, tortured small animals in secret to decompress.) Had it been McKinley, the amount of hostility Kurt detected in the air would lead to a close encounter with a dumpster, or maybe a porta-potty. Because, well, it was all Kurt's fault, wasn't it?

Everyone at Dalton staunchly believed that the Warblers – their pride and joy, the rockstars of the school – deserved to go to Nationals. And the only reason they wouldn't was because – as rumor had it – the judges decided one of their songs was too gay, that they were sending the wrong message to all the good girls and boys everywhere.

And of course, the song was only gay because Kurt sang it with Blaine. Because Blaine demanded a duet for them. Because he was Blaine's boyfriend.

The result didn't seem to be much more than palpable tension around him, and a whispered comment here and there – nothing violent, or threatening. Kurt could live with it – shrug it off, keep to Blaine and their group of Warbler friends – but deep down, it hurt more than he was ready to admit.

One more place he didn't fit in. A safe, tolerant place – and yet.

What did it say about him?

When a chance to transfer was set in front of Kurt like a pardon cancelling his sentence, he didn't have to think too long.

His first reaction was one of joy and relief – but then came the guilt. It wasn't fair of him to think of leaving Dalton so readily; not when it had given him so much, in spite of everything – safety and escape, and most of all, Blaine. Sweet, gorgeous, loving Blaine who carried Kurt's name under his clothes, who was in love with him, and always did everything to make him happy. His Blaine, who looked so brokenhearted when Kurt told him about the possibility of transferring back, but quickly covered it with a smile and a hug, and I will support your decision, as long as you're safe whispered into his ear.

Blaine was the only reason Kurt would consider staying at Dalton.

But the arguments supporting the transfer were overwhelming – even if he ignored his own longing after his Glee club friends and how much he wanted to go to New York with them, Kurt knew that his family couldn't really afford Dalton tuition. Every additional month was a financial burden that he could take off their shoulders now that the reason for his leaving McKinley seemed to be gone. The way he never felt welcome at Dalton anymore was just the last straw.

And Blaine understood. Blaine supported him, and encouraged him, and assured him that they would still have afternoons and weekends, that they would be fine. And perhaps this hurt the most – because Kurt could feel Blaine's fear and his misery sometimes, despite the optimistic words. When they were close and he really focused, Kurt could feel the faint echoes of Blaine's emotions, held in check, and yet spiking out of control every now and then. And the awareness that he was causing Blaine pain was much worse than suffering himself.

In a moment of despair, during those few days when he struggled with the decision, Kurt asked Tina for an opinion. He'd finally told her about their marks a week before, and she was the only person he knew who would really understand the dilemma.

But he shouldn't have bothered.

"Of course you should stay at Dalton. Your place is by your soulmate's side, Kurt." Tina said with a firm conviction that ruffled Kurt's feathers immediately.

"Okay, first of all, no one has confirmed the marks really mean soulmates." She rolled her eyes, but Kurt held up his hand to stop her from interrupting. "And second of all, do you think I want to be away from him? But if we're destined to be together, we will survive no matter what, right? And it's not like we won't be able to see each other. Maybe not every day but–"

He swallowed, the thought making him feel a little dizzy. Since they'd become boyfriends, they hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other.

"I don't know why you're asking me when you've clearly made your decision already." She huffed. "Do what you have to do. But it will hurt, you know."

Kurt groaned. "Of course it will. Do you think I don't know that?"

"No, Kurt, I mean literally. Mike goes away with his parents two weekends a month. And it hurts. It physically hurts when you can't be close to your soulmate. You'll see."

Oh great. Like it wasn't going to be hard enough.

***

There were moments when Blaine felt like he was drowning.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming. From the moment he saw the longing in Kurt's eyes at the Night of Neglect concert, he'd known deep down that Kurt would return to McKinley. He just never expected it to happen so soon, right in the middle of this newfound, delirious happiness – and it felt like the ground went out from under him.

But Kurt's eyes were shining, his excitement radiating out of him at the thought of rejoining his friends, and in the end that was what counted. As long as it was safe for him back at McKinley, Blaine would support anything that made his boyfriend that happy. If it was safe.

He had his doubts.

He didn't trust Karofsky, not one bit. He didn't believe in his sudden change of heart, and didn't share Kurt's belief that Santana will be able to keep him in check. Frankly, he didn't want Karofsky in the same town as Kurt, let alone the same building, and the thought of them actually interacting literally made him see red. So he tried very hard not to think about it with Kurt around – he wasn't sure how this whole emotions-sharing worked, but he couldn't risk Kurt picking up on one of his worse moments. Blaine was supposed to support him, not make this harder for him. And since he couldn't, say, eliminate Karofsky somehow, he had to trust Kurt's judgment and send him on his way. Let him go.

Kurt seemed surprised when Blaine didn't argue the matter. But Blaine knew it was no use, so he simply focused on making as many happy memories as he could in the too-short moments they had together that week. They talked, they sang, they laughed. They kissed whenever they could get away with it, the urgency palpable now that the separation, even if unspoken, was imminent. A few times during the week Kurt gave him that look, as if he was trying to see through him, and Blaine felt momentarily bad for hiding his feelings. But what was the point of letting out the hurt and fear, of telling Kurt about the anxiety that seemed to always sit there now, at the bottom of his stomach? It would only make him feel worse about transferring, and Blaine couldn't do that to him.

And then it was Friday evening after everything was decided, and they were in Kurt's bedroom, the door open and his family downstairs. Kurt's face was paler than usual, his eyes too shiny, and he was holding onto Blaine's hand like a lifeline.

"God, I know it's the right thing to do, the only rational decision – I know that. So why does it feel like I'm doing something awful and unforgivable?"

So stay. Stay with me. Blaine didn't let the words slip out of his mouth, only squeezed Kurt's hand and pulled him into a hug, gathering him close against his shoulder, a familiar, comforting presence. He didn't trust his voice yet. He felt Kurt shake against him, a quiet sob muffled by his blazer, and tears stung his own eyes, unwelcome. Not yet.

"Hey, you'll be fine. We will be fine." He whispered into Kurt's neck, his voice choked. "We'll see each other every afternoon and spend every weekend together. It's not that far. We'll make it work. It will be alright, Kurt, I love you, it will be alright."

Kurt shook harder and nodded with his face still hidden in the crook of Blaine's neck. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "I love you too. So much."

They sat like this for a long while, just holding each other, drawing comfort from being so close. At some point, Kurt's hand found its way under Blaine's shirt and, blindly, to his mark, and Blaine mirrored his move without thinking. Popping open the top buttons of Kurt's uniform shirt for the last time – the last day of him wearing that uniform – he slipped his fingers there, to find where his name lay, safe and more constant than the life around them. It felt good, reassuring. Grounding.

They had the weekend before them with a lot of time planned together. Even after Kurt went back to McKinley on Monday, they would still be boyfriends, still meet and go on dates, and hang out whenever they could. Blaine knew he would work hard for them to stay close, and he never doubted that Kurt would, too.

But it wouldn't be the same. No matter how much he wanted to believe that they would survive this, life was life. He's seen relationships fail because of distance, even a short one. And he knew that sooner or later, life would get in the way, with extracurriculars and homework and other friends. They would call off one date, then another – and then who knew, really? Sometimes love and dedication weren't enough.

A soft knock on the open door shook them out of the moment. Kurt's stepmother was standing in the doorway.

"Boys? It's dinner time." They parted reluctantly, Kurt's eyes red-rimmed as he tried to compose himself. His stepmother smiled at them softly. "Blaine, will you stay and eat with us?"

He startled, eyebrows shooting up. "But I thought it was family night, I don't want to impose–"

"It is. And you're invited to stay if you want to, if your parents won't mind."

By his side, Kurt gasped softly, his face stunned. Blaine remembered his manners. "They won't. And I'll be delighted to stay, thank you."

Dinner was lovely and not at all awkward like Blaine feared it might be. The only uncomfortable moment came when Finn grumbled about his girlfriends never being invited for Friday dinners, but Kurt's eye roll and his curious question about who the girlfriend was this week quickly dissolved the momentary tension as Finn launched into a monologue about his dating life. It seemed complicated.

Blaine stayed for a movie afterwards, the opportunity to spend some more time with Kurt too tempting to resist. The novelty of sitting close together, holding hands, with Kurt's family right there and so accepting of him was new and intoxicating. When Kurt cuddled into his side and put his head on Blaine's shoulder, it made all of his worries melt away, if only for a while. Kurt's father's Come over anytime you want as Blaine was saying goodbye only strengthened the good feeling.

Not for long, though.

An hour alone in his car on the dark empty road home with only the music for company was enough to seep the warm happiness right out of Blaine's mind. By the time he got up to his room, his heart was heavy, this whole week of suppressing his emotions crashing down on him until he was a miserable sobbing mess, facedown on the bed.

It wasn't fair.

Finding Kurt, getting together at last, tasting happiness like he hadn't known before only to lose it now felt like unnecessary cruelty. He didn't want to lose it.

No. He refused to give it up.

So... what could he do?

Tears spent, he flipped on the bed and stared at the ceiling, ideas slowly forming in his head.

Convincing his friends to skip classes in favor of visiting McKinley and helping him serenade Kurt turned out to be surprisingly difficult. Organizing an impromptu practice on Sunday wasn't easy either. In the end, it was only about half of the Warblers that decided to accompany him, and they were all going to be in so much trouble...

But Kurt's stunned, delighted face, and his whispered promise, I'll never say goodbye to you, made it all worth it. One last glance at him, surrounded by friends, bold and unique, and so happy – and Blaine's heart was overflowing, brimming with love and gratefulness. He was lucky to have this amazing boy in his life, and he was going to do anything he needed to keep it that way.

Anything.