The first time Kurt and Rachel sing it in Glee – during the original songs week, when everyone's supposed to try and write their own song – there's no applause when they finish. The song is amazing, their performance of it breathtaking, but that's not what holds everyone attention, keeps them speechless and staring in complete silence. Blaine bites his lip, keeps his face carefully blank. He's as shocked as everyone else, though for slightly different reasons.

Santana is the first to recover.

"Wanky!" Even she sounds mildly creeped-out, though.

"Wait." Puck is frowning, halfway between spooked and fascinated. "So you two are, like, fucking?"

"What? No!" Rachel's eyes are wide and shocked. "Why would you think that?"

Mr. Schue seems to have regained his voice at last. "Well as good as your song is, Rachel, Kurt – it does seem to suggest some level of um... let's say, inappropriate –"

"Oh my god no, it's not a romantic duet! And certainly not sung to each other, can't you see?" Kurt looks around as if they'd all lost their minds. True – they never even looked at each other throughout the performance, now that Blaine thinks about it. But the lyrics seemed clear enough. "It's just a song. We sang it together because we wrote it together, about life. And... stuff. It's not even personal!"

Like hell it isn't. It may not be romantic, but it is personal. Blaine knows that much.

The weird looks mostly stop by the next morning and soon the whole incident is forgotten – that is, until Artie rolls into the choir room two days before Regionals, late and agitated.

"Mr. Schue, we need to change our setlist immediately. I just got secret intel from our Warblers spy: they're doing Michael Jackson. We'll never win with that, not with the songs we have."

A tumultuous hour later, the conclusion is that they only have one secret weapon – adding an original song to their setlist. Kurt and Rachel's song, because none of the others were even half as good, everyone agrees. And even if Mercedes looks positively sick at the decision that the siblings will sing it themselves, there's no time for anyone else to learn and practice it to perfection.

And to be honest – no one else would match Kurt and Rachel's chemistry as they sing it, together yet somehow separate, looking almost haunted, something dark and secret in their faraway eyes.

It's the last song in their setlist and from his place in the background, Blaine can see the way it descends on the audience like a thick fog of pure emotion, leaving no one unmoved. Kurt and Rachel weave their magic, captivating the hearts and minds of everyone in the room, and Blaine can feel every word, and it hurts because they hurt, more than they admit, more than he'll ever know. And he may not understand; they may never tell him the extent of it, but the few minutes on that stage leave him aching, on the verge of tears, utterly helpless. He needs to know how to help, to save them. He needs to do something.

He can't do anything, not even hug them in public.

Waiting for the verdict is nerve-wracking. They were excellent, their absolute best in all three songs, but going with the duet was a gambit that can either make or break them. Kurt and Rachel don't look alike, no one can tell just by looking at them that they're related. But there are lists of members available and if the judges bother to inquire about these two beautiful kids with angel voices, they are screwed.

Not that it should matter, but competitions have been lost for less than incestuous-sounding songs.

By the time all three clubs are called back on stage to hear the verdict, Mr. Schue looks like he's aged five years, Tina has a nervous stomachache and Puck has taken to punching the padded door of the greenroom to release the excess energy. The lights seem harsh and blinding as the woman bearing the sealed envelope makes her way onto the stage. In the back row, Kurt takes Blaine's hand.

They win.

They win and they're going to Nationals in New York in May.

In the general chaos of celebration and congratulations, it's easy to ignore the concern about Kurt and Rachel's wellbeing that still lingers like an aftertaste of their song. Blaine swallows it down, wishes it away for now, but he knows it will be back.

Something is wrong.

He isn't sure if the signs have become more pronounced after Regionals, or if he's just better at noticing them now, but as the April days become warmer and brighter, Blaine feels like he's watching shadows gathering around the siblings. It's subtle at first – just hints of melancholy in their faces sometimes; Kurt's eyes red-rimmed one morning; Rachel's mysterious comment about everything passing. It's easy not to think about it too much, to believe them when they shrug it off, saying it's just a disagreement with their parents, nothing to worry about.

But it doesn't go away. On the contrary, it's getting worse, and by the second half of the month, it's almost a constant state.

It's not that they're permanently sad, or that something really disturbing is going on. But Kurt seems paler and quieter with every passing week even as Rachel becomes more driven, determined for the Nationals performance to be absolutely perfect. She's almost manic with it and it's driving everyone nuts.

They still smile and chat and tease Blaine about his hair gel addiction and his accidentally revealed superheroes obsession. They're always there, the way they have been since they'd become Blaine's friends, and yet sometimes it feels like they're... fading. Slipping away.

Blaine asks, of course he does – just hinting at first, then offering an ear if they ever want to talk about it, finally asking outright what is going on. He gets no answers. They don't want to talk about it, and he can't make them.

But he has a gut feeling, and it's not a good one. It feels like something is brewing, something dark and ominous, and even telling himself he's being ridiculous doesn't help. There are moments, little things that accumulate, and he just can't ignore it.

Like when they're discussing Romeo and Juliet in class. Ms. Harris talks about romanticism of the main characters' deaths, and all Blaine can see is the glint in Rachel's eyes, her captivated face. That afternoon, as they sit in the choir room, she asks "Do you ever fantasize about your own funeral?" like it's the most normal, random conversation topic in the world. Because apparently, she does.

And so does Kurt.

Blaine's anxious concern is slowly turning into fear.

He should tell someone – but whom? And what would he say? My best friends are a bit melancholy lately and their sense of humor has gotten slightly morbid? He could probably try Miss Pillsbury, or maybe even his own parents, but he keeps putting it off, day after day. He's sure Kurt and Rachel would not appreciate involving other people in their lives, private as they are, and what if he is overreacting?

And then, one rainy day in the first week of May, Rachel breaks down in tears when Blaine asks about their plans for junior prom.

They're not allowed to attend and she looks heartbroken about it, and Blaine has trouble being a sympathetic, supporting friend and saying all the right things because he's dizzy with relief. Most of the fear he's been carrying around for weeks slides off his shoulders with a whoosh he can feel down to his toes.

So that's the problem – that's the reason for their somber mood lately? Family disagreement, they've been saying – and that's just it. Their parents banning them from going to prom, which Rachel has been excited about forever. And here Blaine was so certain there was something horrible going on, something dark and threatening. God, he feels so stupid now, and so grateful he didn't share his concerns with anyone after all.

And when he finds Kurt alone in the far corner of the library a few days later, with his shoulders slumped and eyes like liquefied clouds, and begs a confession out of him – about their father's ongoing mission to change him, and how it's been more difficult for him lately – the rest of the anxiety leaves Blaine, giving way to determination.

He may not be able to really help with their problems, but now that he knows what's going on, he will stop obsessing and focus on being a good, supportive friend, be there for them when they need him, in any way they let him.

---

"Rachel! Kurt! Come down to the kitchen please, we want to talk to you."

It's always nerve-wracking when they get a summons like this because it's hard to tell if it's going to be good or bad news this time. And no matter how careful they are, there's always the risk that it's about Blaine – that somehow, their parents have learned about him. And that would be the end of everything.

But there are smiles greeting them this time and they both breathe a little easier as Kurt's mom speaks.

"We've decided to let you go to prom after all. You two have been good since we moved in here and considering it's the last year before your lives change significantly, I think you deserve that bit of fun. We only insist that you go together, of course, behave decently during the dance and come home immediately after, no post-prom parties."

Kurt catches himself staring incredulously.

"But it's –"

"Tomorrow, yes." His mom smiles. "I'm sure you'll manage to get everything ready. You can have the sewing machine back for this, Kurt. Unless you don't want to go? We're not going to force you, of course."

Rachel's squeal is loud and piercing, and a second later she's strangling Kurt with the tightness of her enthusiastic embrace. "Of course we want to go! Oh god, what do I wear? I need to go wash and curl my hair. And put on a face mask. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

With a swirl of her skirt, she's gone, her feet thundering up the stairs. Kurt follows her, his own thanks much more subdued, though not less honest, ideas for outfits already swarming his head. Still, he can't quite share Rachel's level of excitement. No matter how good it is that they're allowed to go, he won't be able to do what he really wants anyway.

Rachel skips out of their bathroom ten minutes later. She's in her panties and a bra, bright green towel on her head and a mud-brown mask on her face, but it's nothing Kurt hasn't seen before. More alarming is the manic glint in her eyes and what comes out of her mouth.

"I need to call Jacob Ben Israel."

"What for?" Kurt shudders a little as she starts digging through her socks drawer for their secret pre-paid cell phone they only use for emergencies.

"We're running for prom king and queen. If it's the last prom of my life, I'm not passing up the opportunity to try and get that crown. Even if I have to seduce Jacob into having our names added to those ballot cards somehow."

With a deep sigh and a shake of his head, Kurt goes to dig in her closet, looking for something that has a potential to become prom-queen-worthy overnight.

---

"Hi gorgeous! Is there any table we can join?"

Blaine didn't see them come in. He just turns – and there they are; Kurt in a perfectly fitted simple tux, Rachel in a peach-colored dress with her shoulders bare, her hand tucked into the crook of Kurt's elbow and her smile blinding. Blaine's breath stutters in his chest.

"You're here."

There's not much time to talk – the Glee club is providing live music for the first part of the evening and Blaine needs to take over the microphone right about now. By the time he's on the stage, he's still not over their miraculous appearance, but at least he's filled in on the details and the prom night suddenly looks like a lot more fun than he's expected.

The next two hours are a blur of performing and dancing, with a short break for the prom court voting (Kurt's and Rachel's names are at the bottom of the ballot cards and Blaine shakes his head, amused; she gets what she wants when she's determined enough, doesn't she?). The three of them are all occupied separately – Blaine manages to steal Rachel away for one dance, but then she's back to making her rounds; it seems half the guys in school want to dance with the unattainable LA girl tonight. Kurt is not getting much rest, either, as far as Blaine can see. It looks like Sugar wasn't exaggerating when she said a ton of girls were crazy about him.

Finally, Blaine's last performance is done and he's just considering going back to the table to have some punch and a breather, hoping Kurt could be persuaded to join him, when Rachel falls right into his arms, her smile too wide to be sincere.

"Dance with me. I need a break from Jacob, he's getting creepy."

"I thought you promised him half of your dance card in exchange for a certain... service?" Blaine smirks a little.

"Well yes, Blaine, thank you for reminding me. But I think I've underestimated his – oh shit."

It sounds so peculiar coming from her, always so feminine and well-mannered, that for a second Blaine just gapes at her. Then he follows her gaze, only to see Kurt disappearing through the gym door.

"What happened?"

Rachel has already stopped dancing, her expression worried. "He's upset. His last prom and he can't even dance with you. I should have thought about it, honestly, where's my head tonight –"

"His last–?"

Rachel just huffs, impatient. "Blaine, just – Last at this school, okay? Can you go talk to him? It's not me he needs right now."

"Of course." He's already walking towards the exit, fast, trying not to break into a run, Rachel's words ringing in his ears. Last prom – last – last at this school.

He finds Kurt easily in an empty side hallway, pacing by the wall of lockers, and Blaine has never seen him so distraught. Kurt's voice is breaking when he speaks.

"It's not fair. Why can't I dance with you at my prom when even Rachel can? Why can I never walk hand in hand with a person I like? Why is it so damn hard?" There are tears in Kurt's eyes, his face screwed in distress, and Blaine would do anything to make it better.

"Kurt... I'd dance with you in a heartbeat. We can go back in there, holding hands, and dance right now, and I'll be the happiest guy in that room."

Kurt shakes his head, the defeated look on his face heartbreaking. "I can't, Blaine. You know I can't. Not even once, no matter how much I want it." He closes his eyes and rubs at them, a tired gesture. When he speaks again, the anger is gone; his voice is bitter now, sad. "I'm sorry. I'll be fine, I'm used to it, not having what I want. It's just... it stings, sometimes. You can go to Rachel, I'll be back in a moment. Don't worry about me."

Blaine shakes his head. There's no way he's leaving Kurt's side.

"I don't want to go to Rachel. I want to spend time with you. How about we go back to the table and just sit and talk for a bit? They're counting votes now, we have a moment before the prom king and queen are announced. How about that? There's nothing suspicious about sitting at the table with a friend."

Kurt's smile is weak, barely there, but he nods. "Okay."

By the time they are seated and Blaine has brought them both punch – still unspiked, to Puck's annoyance – Kurt looks calm again. They're alone at the table and it's as good a time as any – and Blaine just needs to know.

"Can I ask you something?" He waits for Kurt's nod before continuing. "Rachel said it's your last year at this school. Is it... is it true?"

The way Kurt bites his lip and avoids Blaine's eyes is answer enough, and he braces himself for the words that come next.

"I... yes. It's very, very unlikely that we'll be back at McKinley for our senior year."

"Are you moving away again? Back to LA?"

Kurt looks at him with eyes that look almost pleading, his mouth working over words that don't come for a few seconds, but then he blinks and shakes his head, and the moment is gone. "Probably. Our parents expect to be summoned back in the summer, and whatever happens, we won't be here. I'm sorry, Blaine."

"You could have told me." It comes out too sharp, like an accusation, but he can't help it. A feeling very much like betrayal is messing with his throat, choking him.

Kurt just nods, solemn.

"I could. But at first I didn't think it mattered, and later I just... I didn't want this to hang over you the way it does over us, Blaine. I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin these last weeks we have. I wanted you to have this time with us, unspoiled. And besides... would it change anything? Would you do anything differently?"

I would guard my heart better if I knew, he thinks. But he doesn't say it, just whispers, "No. It wouldn't change a thing."

But of course it changes everything. He can't quite wrap his mind around it yet, but somewhere in his future there's probably a big ugly crying fit, most likely preceded by running until he's numb because god, the mere thought of losing them – losing Kurt – hurts too much to even breathe around.

Blaine may not have imagined they'd spend the rest of their lives together – he's not that naive, but he did hope to have them in his life for much longer. The whole next year at least, for sure; with Glee and the competition trips, with their early mornings and occasional secret meetings and the senior prom. He hoped that maybe with time, their parents would get more lenient – both Kurt and Rachel have perfect grades, that should help – maybe even, he dared to fantasize sometimes, he and Kurt would be able to date openly one day?

And now, like a candle blown by a sudden gust of wind, all that is gone.

Up on the stage, Kurt looks as stunned as Blaine feels, and it takes Principal Figgins repeating his name and beckoning him with a frown before he moves. Kurt's eyes are still wide as the crown is placed on his head and the scepter pushed into his hand, but he bows gracefully when the principal beams.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your McKinley junior prom king, Kurt Hummelberry."

There is a scattered applause, most people looking confused that Kurt won over the wildly popular Finn Hudson, but a gaggle of girls up front is going crazy. Blaine can see Sugar there, bouncing wildly with an expression that places somewhere between delighted and smug.

Rachel's wide smile fades when Quinn's victory is announced, but she keeps a brave face, only disappearing quietly for a moment when Kurt leads the new prom queen in the first dance of the new McKinley court.

They are lovely together, both beautiful and somehow regal, and there's no way Finn would ever manage to look so much like he owns this title and this crown. Kurt's eyes slide over the crowd as they sway gracefully, and he smiles sadly when he meets Blaine's gaze, and that's the moment when Blaine knows for sure: he will get Kurt his dance, no matter what.

All it takes is one Puckerman and two dancing girls.

Puck has managed to spike the punch at last, and Blaine knows he must have brought his own beverages beside that because he's drunk, loud and easy to provoke, which is exactly what Blaine needs.

The prom is winding down to the end, the music mostly slow and mellow now and all around there are couples dancing, close and intimate. There's a lot of kissing, even some mild groping here and there. No one is really looking around anymore, comparing dresses or searching for friends to chat, which is a perfect moment for those who want to dance together without raising interest.

Like Santana and Brittany.

They aren't flashy with their relationship, not many people outside of the Glee club know that they are more than friends, and Blaine is silently thankful for them dancing like this now because it makes starting the topic of gay couples so much more natural than any of the scenarios he's thought of.

"Hell no man, I mean, two chicks – sure, it's like, super hot, but two dudes? That's just gay." Puck is loud and obnoxious, enough to make people at the nearby tables look up and strain their ears to hear, and that's exactly what Blaine needs. He keeps his voice louder than usual, too, ignoring Kurt's bewildered expression by his side.

"Oh, I don't know. I heard that only men who are completely comfortable with their sexuality, you know, real men, have no problem with things like that. I mean, if you're sure you are straight, why would you be afraid to be seen as gay?"

"Oh yeah? So you do it, smartass. Prove you're a real man." There's this smirk on Puck's face, the cocky one he gets when he's being an ass.

Perfect.

"What, you want me to dance with you, Noah?" Blaine does his best to make his laughter seem nervous, uncomfortable. "I don't know, you're not exactly my type."

"Oh no, Anderson, I'm not into your crazy, but you go ahead, I'd like to see you ask a guy to dance. Unless you're going to chicken out now?" Puck is looking around triumphantly, satisfied with the attention he's getting. There's only two, maybe three dozen people around them, but it's enough to confirm it being a dare, and that's exactly what Blaine needs. Another slow song is just starting.

With the last little spectacle of hesitation, Blaine stands up. "Fine. I'm not aiming lower than royalty though." He can feel eyes on him as he turns towards Kurt. "Your majesty, may I have this dance?"

Kurt can easily say no if he decides it's still too risky, and Blaine will ask someone else then – maybe Mike, or Sam, and maybe he'll get rejected, and it will be no more than a silly joke. But Kurt doesn't say no, just like Blaine hoped he wouldn't. He gets it already, what Blaine just did – of course he does, and he takes Blaine's extended hand and stands up with a regal smile.

"Yes. Yes you may."

The dance is a little awkward at first, Kurt all tense and glancing around at the group of people watching them. There's Rachel at the front, smiling and cheering, and Sam, giving Blaine a thumbs up, and Puck is so loud, yelling "Fine, okay, you've got balls, Anderson," that even people who have no idea what's going on catch up to the dare pretty quick. Mike snaps them a picture with his phone and Blaine grins and spins Kurt around, and they just keep dancing. Soon people around them lose interest in Puckerman's latest crazy and go to their own partners or back to the tables, and Blaine can focus all of his attention on Kurt.

He's right there, in Blaine's arms, My Heart Will Go On seeping slowly out of the stereo system, and they can't lose themselves completely in dancing, can't melt together like most couples do, but it's still so much more than they'd ever had in public, it's breathtaking. Kurt is warm against him, his smell makes Blaine's blood simmer like it always does, every little touch like a gift. And Kurt's eyes are soft and smiling, and happy, so happy, and Blaine did that. He managed to make Kurt's dream come true.

He may not have much time left with them – and the thought aches somewhere deep and desperate – but he's going to make each and every moment count.

The music ends too soon and they step away from each other, put their masks back on and go back to the table. But before they do, Kurt catches Blaine's eyes and whispers Thank you with a smile so full of awe and adoration that Blaine's heart stutters a little.

---

Kurt doesn't dance with anyone else until the end of the prom, unwilling to feel another's embrace, see another's face so close and clear. It would feel like tainting this precious moment and he can't do that; he needs to save every last bit of it in his memory tonight, relive every second over and over until it's an indelible part of him.

The walk home, his evening routine, getting to bed – it's all a daze, and he tells Rachel he doesn't want to cuddle or talk tonight. He just wants to be alone with his thoughts and memories. Thankfully, she understands.

The night is filled with images of Blaine.

In the morning, however, there's no more peace and understanding as they go down for breakfast. Their father's brow is furrowed, his mouth set into a thin line. Kurt's mom looks pale and concerned at the other side of the table.

They must have heard.

Oh, Kurt is so not ready for this conversation, not yet, not when he just woke up with a big smile and his brain is still pleasantly fuzzy, and he hasn't even had his coffee yet. But they don't give him a chance to prepare.

"Kurt, care to explain why you danced with a boy last night? Is there something you want to tell us?"

Rachel's bright laugh is a shock to Kurt's vibrating nerves. He's frozen, paralyzed, but she's not, just dancing happily around the kitchen, making oatmeal.

"Don't be silly, Daddy. He was actually doing the guy bonding thing you're always so onto him about. You know, joking around, playing pranks and leaving girls to their own devices?" She stops behind Kurt's back, giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the lips before she twirls away. "It was a dare Puckerman played, Kurt couldn't have refused without looking like a weakling. It was pretty stupid, I admit, but oh well, boys."

She's at the table now, rolling her eyes dramatically, and Kurt has never been so thankful for her acting skills.

Forcing himself to move, he smiles and shakes his head. "It was pretty awkward, too. But you said it yourself, I need to try to blend in with the men more. So I'm trying. Although I'm not so sure I want to blend in with Puckerman." He makes a passable imitation of a shudder, relieved to see their father's face soften.

His mom nods over her cup of coffee, the frown gone. "Okay then. We'd rather not hear more news like that though, Kurt. It had us worried here, for a moment."

Kurt forces out a chuckle. "Oh, you won't, I promise. Don't worry."

---

CHAPTER ART by HACHI (click!)

Regionals

The morning after