They don't win.

They don't even place in the top ten, but somehow, Blaine doesn't mind. Everyone is upset and Santana is out of control, but as they fly home, Blaine can only think of how many amazing, unforgettable moments he's had with Kurt. And Rachel, too, but... Kurt. He's pretty sure he's in love, and not just with the city. And after this morning, he's almost certain New York is it for him. If only he gets accepted, he's going to college there.

He tells that to Kurt as they wait for their baggage, taking great care not to lean too close or seem too intimate after the heady rush of the last three days. Kurt just smiles, his eyes warm and full of affection.

"Can you spare a few hours tomorrow afternoon? Our parents will be gone again..."

And god, can he? Of course he can. He wants nothing more than to hold Kurt close. He wants to kiss him, touch him, see him come apart, all because of Blaine. He wants Kurt for himself. He wants more than secret moments, stolen when no one is looking. He wants to never have to say goodbye, to always have him close.

He wants so much.

"I'll be there."

---

That last day, they go all the way.

Kurt has arranged for them to be alone, just he and Blaine – Rachel didn't even argue when he asked for that one favor, slipping out to the library for the afternoon.

They hardly speak between the fervent kisses and urgent touches, the desperation palpable in the air, or so it seems to Kurt. He feels so raw today, so exposed, and there are whispers and cries in the silence of their attic, there's pleasure and pain, tender strokes and hard thrusts, and it's so much; too much and yet not enough. It will never be enough.

Blaine looks at him with awe and adoration, so breathtaking in his open vulnerability, and Kurt bites down on his own lip as he comes, bites till he feels the coppery taste of blood because he can't let out the words that have been growing inside him secretly for weeks now – he can't; not today, not ever.

Afterwards, they lay together, as close as physically possible, and it feels like love and like goodbye, and Kurt thinks it's the most personal thing he will ever have, something he won't share with anyone, not even Rachel. Something no one will ever be able to take away from him. Not in the short time they have left.

It takes all of Kurt's strength to act normal as they part, but he can only take it so long, crumbling to the floor as soon as the door closes behind his lover. Rachel takes one look at his red-rimmed eyes when she returns and thankfully, she asks nothing, just hugs him tightly. Even this is too much.

~

"Do you think it was worth it?" Rachel is sitting on the floor, chin propped on her bent knees, her face a little melancholy. "Looking back, would you trade this whole year in exchange for living to be eighteen?"

Kurt shakes his head. Glee, New York, Blaine – he got so much this year, he wouldn't change it for the world. But words get stuck in his throat.

Rachel hums in agreement. "Yeah, me neither."

There's a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes though, and Kurt's immediate instinct is to soothe and reassure.

"We wouldn't get a full year anyway. We just made it easier for them, giving up the fight in exchange for more freedom. I mean, do you really believe the Council would risk waiting with the ceremony until we're legal adults, no matter what our parents said? For others, maybe, but us? We've proven more than once that we're not their usual good little believers, happy to follow whatever path is chosen for us."

Rachel shrugs and sniffs a little. "I guess. It's just–" She breaks and bites her lip.

"Just what?"

"It's really cliché but... I wish I'd had sex, after all. Even just once. Dying a virgin feels like such a waste." She laughs briefly and glances at him, almost shy, and Kurt's eyes widen.

"You're not honestly looking at me right now, are you?"

Her face softens. "No, I know. I'm sorry. It's just a silly regret."

The silence feels heavy between them.

~

It's getting late and this is the night, the one they've been looking forward to for almost a year now. Everything is ready; their room tidy and devoid of any clues, the note to their parents neatly written and signed by both of them, the USB drive with Kurt's performance on top. They can only wait, now, wait until well after midnight, until the whole town falls asleep and there's no one to stop them – but not too long. Their parents will be back before five in the morning.

Waiting is the worst. There's nothing to do, no use starting a new book or listening to music anymore; they've said their goodbyes to those pleasures, just like to everything else. Everything – except people.

Talking only leads them to details of the plan again, and it's too much. But sitting idly sets Kurt on edge, stirs his thoughts and brings him back to feelings and sensations he hadn't known until a few months ago, and the more he tries to push them away, the more he feels, and he can't. Not anymore. It's over, it has to be.

Except suddenly he knows that he has to, needs to do this one last thing, he can't go just like that. He stands up suddenly.

"I need a moment alone. I'll go up to the roof, get some air –"

He's moving before he's done talking, out on the balcony and up the short ladder, and if he just goes down the trellis on the other side of the house and runs real fast, he'll be back in no time. He has to see Blaine one last time, has to say –

His feet slide on the wet wood of the trellis, his hands catch on the sharp thorns of wild roses, but Kurt manages to get down to the ground quietly enough.

Rachel is already there, arms folded over her chest.

"I knew you'd want to go say goodbye." She shakes her head sadly, as if talking to a stubborn child who has disappointed her. "Kurt, we can't, you know that. No one can suspect anything, and certainly not Blaine. He's in love with you, he'll never let you go if he knows, we can't risk it. You have to –"

"He's in... love with me?" His own voice sounds foreign all of a sudden, there's not enough oxygen in the air. Rachel shrugs and takes his hand to lead him towards the back door.

"Of course he is. Now come on."

~

Before they leave the car, they hug one last time, short and tight, a goodbye.

"I love you forever."

"I love you too."

It's cold as they get out, so much colder than Kurt expected. Or maybe his violent shivering has nothing to do with the icy drizzle and gusts of chilly wind here by the river. The bridge stands tall and menacing in the darkness, not even close in size to the famous ones, but good enough for their needs, water roiling beneath deep and unforgiving.

Rachel closes the distance in a dozen of light steps and it almost looks like she's dancing – a delicate, lovely ballerina dancing towards oblivion. She perches on the railing and turns towards Kurt, bright eyes and red lips, and he can't help thinking that she'd never looked so beautiful. The shadow of approaching Death gives her a glow some get from love, or when expecting a child. Smiling serenely, she reaches her hand towards Kurt.

"Come, my love." It's a plea and a command, and his feet obey immediately. One step. Two. Three.

He doesn't get to four.

Something seizes, hard and fierce in Kurt's chest, like an old roof caving in, letting air and light flood the room, and it takes a moment to catch his breath, to understand. One more to accept.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" It's just a mild surprise, she thinks he's stalling, but it's not that. Not at all.

"I'm not doing it. I'm not jumping."

"Kurt –?" Her eyes widen.

"No. I want to live. I want to love."

And he does, like he hasn't for the longest time, like he'd forgotten one could. He grabs onto life with everything he has and there's nothing that could make him let go now.

"They won't let you live or love the way you want to when they get their way, you know that, Kurt. They'll do anything to make us like they are, even if it kills us inside. This is not life, not like that." There are tears in Rachel's eyes, he can see. It breaks Kurt's heart. "You said we will always be together, that you will never leave me all alone. You promised, Kurt." She's reaching for him again. "Come on, baby, we've been planning it for so long."

She's begging, but even that won't sway him now that he knows, with absolute certainty: he's not going anywhere.

"No, you have been planning it for so long. I love you, and I don't want to leave you, and I thought I could do it, but I can't, Rach. I can't. Please don't make me."

He can tell he sounds hysterical, and Rachel's getting down from the railing now, suddenly pale.

"I would never make you, baby. I thought you wanted it too, it's not like I'll force you if you don't. And I'm not jumping without you. But what else can we do? We can't go back there, Kurt. We don't have any more time, you know that. It's your birthday tomorrow, and then –"

"– we're getting married." The words they've been avoiding for so long, between them – the words their parents have been repeating like a gospel, like the sweetest promise, for years. They make them shudder, out in the cold air, on the dark bridge on the outskirts of Lima. They make them still in the silence.

"We can run." Suddenly, it's obvious.

Rachel's laugh is mirthless. "Just like that? With nothing but the clothes we're in, without a penny on us? And where would we go? They'd find us in a heartbeat, you know how far the group's net spreads."

"Not if we make it look like we're dead, they won't search too hard then. We'll have to leave the car, but it's for the best. We're smart, we're determined. We'll make it. And as for money–" Kurt reaches into his pocket. A wad of cash, earned secretly with sewing, looks small, but there's well over a thousand there. "I took this with me, just... on a whim. Didn't want to leave it there, they'd just donate it to the cause. It should help for starters."

She looks at him with tearful eyes, just breathing for a moment – they're both breathing heavily, everything on the brink of changing, undecided.

And then she nods.

---

Blaine gets to school early the next morning, despite an unusual amount of traffic by the river. He couldn't sleep, couldn't swallow a bite of his breakfast, too giddy and impatient to see Kurt; to tell him. Yesterday he was too overwhelmed, too full of feverish, breathtaking happiness to speak, so they just kissed goodbye, and Blaine hopes the siblings will be at school already, and he'll manage to take Kurt aside and tell him.

I love you.

He'd never thought the first time he'd say those words would be to a boy, but here it is, and it's perfect. He's in love. He's in love with Kurt, the most wonderful creature in the whole universe, and Kurt cares about him too, he knows that, and they'll be together, they'll find a way, even if they have to hide and do long-distance and wait for college. They'll make it. Blaine just needs to find him and confess.

He nearly bounces through the half-empty halls to his locker, barely aware of the excited whispers or the way people huddle in small groups, talking. Another piece of gossip must have hit McKinley, and Blaine couldn't care less.

He's in love.

Kurt and Rachel aren't there yet, which is unusual, but it's fine. Blaine will just wait for them by his locker, where they meet every morning.

It takes Mike's haunted expression three lockers over to feel the first tremors of unease creep up on him. Mike isn't one to get emotional without good reason.

A cold grip tightens on his heart, unwelcome, and he has to push himself to ask.

"Mike? What's wrong?"

"Oh god, you haven't heard." He shakes his head, clueless, and Mike shuts his locker, stands by him, close – too close, as if – "It's Rachel and Kurt."

And Blaine already wants to cover his ears, to block the news that is undoubtedly, indelibly bad. But his hands seem paralyzed, along with the rest of his body, so he just stands there, unable to block out the rest.

"Blaine, they... they're dead." No. "They've killed themselves last night. Jumped off the bridge together. I'm sorry."

No.

No no no no NO!

It can't be true. Not after–

Mike says something more, something about suicide notes and a car, and Kurt's scarf found floating by the river bank, but Blaine barely hears it over the dull thumping of his heart. The world is muted, fading away, and he can't breathe, the air suddenly thick and choking like the river's brown waters.

He's sent home halfway through the first period, after Mr. Martinez inquires about his paleness and unfocused eyes and Blaine can't choke out a word, and he spends the rest of the day looking up at the ceiling over his bed and seeing nothing except flashes of their moments together, he and Kurt and Rachel. He and Kurt. Them. It's like a film playing right before his eyes, one that he never wants to stop watching. He wants it seared into his retinas, fresh and vivid, and forever there.

Except every picture brings back words, clues, little things that only now click together into understanding; into realizations with edges so sharp they shred him inside. Soon, Blaine feels like he's trapped in a thick cloud of deadly shards of fractured memories, unable to take a proper breath without getting stabbed by remorse, by guilt; by you should have known.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it coming.

He can't believe they're dead.

They can't be.

He didn't even say goodbye.

They never find the bodies.

Sometimes, in the middle of the darkest, most lonely nights, Blaine allows himself the tiniest flicker of hope that it's not because the river's wild current carried them somewhere far, far away.

It's because they're still alive; somewhere, anywhere – but still there, like distant candlelight you can no longer see, but the knowledge of its existence warms your heart.

Sometimes that hope is the only thing that makes him get out of bed in the morning.

CHAPTER ART by HACHI:

The bridge

You should have known

Let's Play Pretend: the movie (video)