Chapter 8

The weekend had passed uneventfully, for which Kurt was grateful. He was relieved he didn't have to interact with Anderson that much, but also, truth to be told, a little surprised. He did plan to avoid Blaine as much as possible, but the forger made it surprisingly easy. He rarely left his room, spending most of the time playing the piano or painting something, judging by the smudges of paint covering his shirt. Once, when he was in the bathroom and left the door to his room open, Kurt caught a glimpse of an easel standing in the middle of the room, and briefly wondered how the hell it got there. He figured Anderson must have brought it in parts, in one of those huge bags his friend gave him on the day Kurt picked him up from prison. Glad Blaine was occupying himself with something different than making Kurt's life a living hell, the agent burrowed himself in his bedroom as well, enjoying his first weekend off in months, his mind a little bit more at ease than on Friday.

It wasn't until he grabbed his phone that his bliss came to an end. Checking a few things, he caught a glimpse of the calendar and his blood went cold when he realized which date fell on the following Wednesday. He couldn't believe that he forgot, although it was justifiable when he thought about it, with how busy he had been for the last few days. Closing his eyes, he sighed. First thing on Monday morning, he had to have a conversation with Johnson and he had no idea what to expect from it.

“Sir? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Kurt asked, stepping into Johnson's office and glancing around nervously. Being in that room always made him feel uneasy, but he hoped he hid it well enough for his boss not to notice.

“Agent Hummel. What can I do for you?” Johnson said, taking off his reading glasses and focusing his attention on Kurt.

The agent took a deep breath. “Sir, you know how I always take a few personal days in October to go…”

“Right, right, of course.” Johnson interrupted. “It's this week, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir.” Kurt nodded. “I'm really sorry, I know I should have mentioned it earlier…”

“Nonsense.” His boss interrupted, again. “With all that's been going on, it's understandable it had slipped your mind. How much time do you need?”

“I thought about going tomorrow and coming back on Thursday afternoon, so I'd be back at the office on Friday, if that's alright.”

“Absolutely.” Johnson nodded. “Anything else?”

“What about Anderson, sir?” Kurt asked hesitantly.

“That's up to you, Kurt.” The older agent said. “You can take him with you; there won't be much work in Smythe's case without you here anyway. But if you'd rather be alone, we can place him with another agent for the next few days.”

Kurt bit his lip and looked down, trying to weigh his options, but deep down, he already knew what he wanted to do.

Life's too short to even care at all.

Kurt closed his eyes and pushed the words away, trying to block them from his memory. Making up his mind, he looked up at his boss.

“There's no point in bothering other agents, sir.” Kurt said, his voice calm and even, a total opposite of what was going on inside of him. “He can go with me.”

“Alright. I'll notify the marshal's office so they can change the radius on his ankle monitor.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kurt replied and with a polite nod, he exited the room. On the way back to his office, he bumped into Mike and Santana.

“Hey, what was that about?” Mike asked, nodding in the direction of Johnson's office.

“I had to talk to him about taking the next few days off.” Kurt said and his friends' eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh, crap, it's October.” Santana muttered, exchanging a look with Mike.

“You're going tomorrow?” The Asian agent asked.

Kurt nodded. “Yes, until Thursday.”

“Wait, what about your hobbit roommate?” Santana asked.

“He's coming with me.” Kurt replied, silently hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions or want him to elaborate because he had absolutely no idea what to tell them.

“You're sure? He can stay with us for those few days, Tina won't mind.” Mike offered.

“Thanks, Mike, but no.” Kurt shook his head. “I could actually use some distraction and Anderson sure as hell can provide one.”

“Okay, if that's what you want.” Mike said. “Anything else we can do?”

“I'm fine, but if one of you could stop by my place while we're gone and feed Satine, I'd be grateful.”

“I'll take care of that.” Santana said immediately and when both men looked at her, surprised by her eagerness, she shrugged with a smirk. “What? I love that cat, she's pretty badass.”  

Kurt smiled, but he was sure his friends could easily tell it wasn't genuine, and he wasn't even trying, there's was no point in trying to fool them. “Thanks. Now, don't you have some work to do?” Kurt said, gesturing at the files both agents were holding.

“And here's the boss mode again.” Santana snickered. At Kurt's pointed look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine, we're going. Come on, Chang, or he'll fire us.”

Mike burst out laughing. “I'd like to see him try.” He said with a smile. “If we don't see you today, call us if you need anything.” He called over his shoulder, as he and Santana started to walk away.

For the rest of the day Kurt locked himself up in his office, shielding himself from any human interactions. He could see Anderson sitting in the conference room, studying some cases they suspected Smythe could have been involved in, and the agent really hoped he was getting somewhere because Kurt, personally, had no idea what to do next and was getting absolutely nothing done. Staring at the files at his desk, he completely lost track of time, and deeply in thought, he missed Blaine getting up from the table in the conference room.

“What's wrong?” Blaine's voice suddenly broke Kurt out of his reverie, making him jump in his chair. Startled, his head snapped up and he saw Anderson leaning against the doorframe, smirking, apparently very amused by Kurt's reaction.

“Jumpy much, Hummel?” He said, grinning at the death glare Kurt sent his way, and stepped into the room, closing the door. “So, what's wrong?”

“What makes you think there's anything wrong?” Kurt answered with a question and nearly smacked himself, knowing that it was the most common way of evading the real answer and fully aware that Blaine knew that as well.

The grin on Anderson's face grew wider. “You've been reading the same page for the last fifteen minutes.” He said, gesturing at the neglected papers on Kurt's desk. “I highly doubt you're being that thorough, besides, I know you went to talk to your boss right after we got here. So…” Blaine drawled, looking at Kurt expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

Kurt stared right back him, still saying nothing and Blaine let out a loud laugh. “Hummel, you're like an open book. Come on, spill.”

“Why do you even care?” Kurt snapped, glaring at the forger.

“Oh, I don't.” Blaine shrugged. “But the moodier you are, the more unbearable it is to live with you, so I'd like to at least know the reason for it.”

“Nothing's wrong.” Kurt stated, raising his hand to silence Blaine when he opened his mouth to speak. “But we're taking a little trip.”

“What? Where?” Blaine asked, looking at him with confusion.

“Ohio.” Kurt said, getting up and collecting the files from his desk.

After the initial surprise, Blaine's eyes flashed with something else. “Ohio?!” He exclaimed angrily, his hands clenched in fists. “I don't know what the fuck you want to achieve by taking be back to that hell, but…”

“Have you ever thought that maybe not everything revolves around you?!” Kurt snarled, interrupting him and walking towards Blaine until he could look him right in the eye. “We're going to Lima. It has nothing to do with you.” He said and stormed out of the office, leaving Blaine standing in the middle of the room.

The forger took a deep breath. He wasn't thrilled by the prospect of going back to Ohio, the place he had left right after high school, swearing he would never come back, but, at least, they would probably stay away from Westerville. He wondered why exactly they were going back to Hummel's hometown so suddenly, without any apparent reason; Thanksgiving was still a month away. Maybe a relative's birthday or another family occasion? Although, it didn't sit quite right with Blaine, judging by Hummel's reaction, it was something way less pleasant.

Well, one way to find out.

“I don't get why we have to drive.” Blaine grumbled from the passenger seat, staring murderously at the clock that showed six o'clock in the morning, though it might as well be the middle of the night. “It's going to take us forever to get there.”

“Are you even aware of how much last minute plane tickets cost?” Kurt asked without looking at him, busy navigating the streets of New York.

“They wouldn't be last minute if you didn't forget about whatever is happening this week.” Blaine muttered grumpily.

“Stop whining. At least you don't have to drive.” Kurt retorted, stopping at the red light.

“I could drive.” Blaine offered, making Kurt turn to him and look him dead in the eye.

“No one drives my car, Anderson.” The agent said and when the lights changed, he turned his attention back to the traffic. “No one.”

Blaine raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Good luck driving for the next ten hours straight.”

Not bothering to respond, Kurt kept driving and when he glanced in the direction of Blaine fifteen minutes later, the forger was in a deep sleep or at least it seemed so, his head leaning against the window. He looked so peaceful like that, so… harmless. It was almost hard to believe how far from the truth that impression was.

Kurt sighed and stretched his arms as much as he could without letting go of the steering wheel, and sat more comfortably, feeling his body starting to relax. Even though it took a lot of time, Kurt liked to drive to Ohio, from time to time, instead of flying; he had always liked road trips, ever since he was young. Feeling nostalgic, he pushed those memories away, focusing on the road and turning up the radio, loud enough to distract him, but not to wake Anderson.

Two hours later they were somewhere in Pennsylvania. The traffic wasn't so bad, so Kurt let his thoughts wander, humming mindlessly to the song playing currently on the radio. Between that and driving, he didn't notice that Blaine hadn't been asleep for quite a while and was studying him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Man, I haven't heard that song in ages.” He said and turned the radio up, making Kurt gasp and jump in his seat.

“Dammit, Anderson.” He breathed out, trying to calm his heart down. “Do you want me to crash the car?”

“Seeing as I am in it as well, no, not really. Also, it would be such a shame to destroy this car.” At Kurt's glare, he chuckled. “What's going on with you anyway? You've been so jumpy lately; I wouldn't want to go into the field with you, only god knows who you would shoot by accident.”

“I'm not jumpy.” Kurt said through gritted teeth, but it didn't sound convincing even to him.

“Right.” Blaine snorted. “More often than not, I've seen you staring into the distance with that weird look in your eyes and, I have to admit, I'm intrigued to know what's troubling you that much.”

“Don't you have anything else to do than creepily analyze what I do?” Kurt asked coldly. “Hey, if you're that into profiling, the BAU needs more people, maybe you should volunteer.”

“Hmm, I somehow think they wouldn't be so happy to take me in.”

“I can't imagine why.” Kurt replied sarcastically. “You're such a joy to work with.”

Blaine laughed loudly. “You know it, pretty boy.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt shook his head incredulously, but said nothing, not even bothering to react to the nickname anymore. The rest of the drive passed in a similar way,  they were either bickering over something or Blaine was humming along to the songs playing on the radio and Kurt was staring ahead of himself, pretending not to care, but quietly admiring Blaine's voice. They pulled over a couple of times, to stretch their legs and get some food and Kurt, true to his words, kept returning to the driver's seat every single time, making it clear that he was the only one to drive the car.

As they were getting closer to Lima, Blaine couldn't help but notice how Hummel's demeanor changed. The closer they were the more distant he became, getting lost in his thoughts, ignoring Blaine even when he said something provocative on purpose, to get a reaction out of him. It kind of felt as if they were going to a funeral, which didn't make any sense at all.

“So, are you going to tell me why we're going to Ohio?” Blaine asked, not able to stop himself from being curious which in turn made him a little mad at himself for being so intrigued.

“No.” Kurt's answer was short and Blaine rolled his eyes. He had no idea why Hummel was being so fucking mysterious, but fine, if he wanted to be as stubborn as a mule, Blaine would let him. It's not like he cared.

They didn't talk after that, Kurt's thoughts drifting back to Lima as they drove and everything was beginning to look more and more familiar. Anderson had apparently decided to mind his own business, not saying anything and, judging by his closed eyes, sleeping again. Kurt knew that, eventually, he would probably have to tell him why they were taking this trip, but he would do it later rather than sooner.

Lost in thoughts, he wasn't aware of how quickly the time was passing and before he knew it, they were almost there. As if he was able to sense it, Anderson started stirring and then opened his eyes, yawning and stretching as he looked out of the window.

“Where are we staying?” Blaine asked as they passed the sign welcoming them to Lima.

“My house.” Kurt replied curtly.

“Does your family know that you're bringing a criminal with you?” Blaine asked with a smirk. “Hummel?” He inquired when Kurt didn't reply, driving and staring blankly ahead of himself.

“It won't be a problem.” He said, his voice sounding weirdly absent.

“If you say so.” Blaine said dubiously, deciding not the bother anymore and let it go, and he turned his gaze to the neighborhoods they were passing. He used to visit Lima from time to time when he was in high school. Blaine wasn't sure, but him and Hummel were probably around the same age, it was a miracle they hadn't run into each other, not even once, all those years ago. On the other hand, maybe they had, they just hadn't paid it any attention back then.

Blaine was broken out of his thoughts by the engine stopping and he realized that Hummel parked the car in the driveway of a medium-sized family house. Completely dark, empty looking house.

“I sure hope you have the keys because it doesn't look like anyone's home.” Blaine said boringly, arching his eyebrow, expecting a snarky remark in return, but nothing like that happened. The agent got out of the car without a word, grabbing his bag from the backseat, and started walking in the direction of the house.

Well, that's fucking weird.

Taking his bag as well, Blaine exited the car, reaching the porch just as Hummel finished opening the front door. Following him inside, Blaine frowned when he noticed the empty racks and the lack of the personal items in the narrow corridor. His confusion deepened even more when he glanced into the living room, seeing all of the furniture covered with big, white sheets. It looked like no one had lived in that house for a very long time.

Turning around, Blaine saw Hummel, still standing by the front door, with a blank expression on his face, his eyes empty as he stared at one point on the wall.

“What…” Blaine started, not understanding, making Kurt's head snap in his direction.

“My parents are dead.” Kurt said quietly, his voice dull and stripped of every emotion. “And tomorrow it's the fifth anniversary of their death.”

And for the first time since they met, Blaine's words died in his throat, leaving him completely speechless.

It was the middle of the night and Blaine lied in his bed, way too awake for someone who had spent almost ten hours in the car, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to wrap his mind around what he found out about Hummel.

“I always call my neighbor before I arrive, Mrs. Lavender, she cleans up my room and stocks the kitchen for me. I told her I'm bringing a friend this time, so she prepared the guest room as well.” The agent said quietly earlier that night, responding to Blaine's questioning gaze when he saw that the bed was neatly made and the furniture wasn't covered like in the living room.

That was the last time Blaine saw Hummel that evening. After leaving him in the room, the agent disappeared and was nowhere to be found. And when Blaine went to the kitchen to grab something to drink, a thought crossed his mind, how easy it would be to just open the front door and get away, cut his ankle monitor with something sharp, get rid of it and disappear somewhere in the middle of nowhere. However, Blaine found himself quickly dismissing the thought, surprised by how it didn't even seem appealing to him. Maybe he really did become a more responsible person when he was in prison, Wes would surely be proud of him. Or the desire to take revenge on Sebastian was simply too strong. No matter which one it was, Blaine turned back with one last glance at the door and headed back to the guest room.

Now, lying in bed, Blaine was starting to realize that maybe he had misjudged Kurt Hummel at the very beginning, the moment they first met. He had always resented him for locking him away and, for some reason, always pictured him having a perfect life full of happiness, joy and freedom, everything that Blaine had lost because of him.

But it wasn't really because of him, was it? The quiet voice inside his head told him and it was right. It wasn't Hummel who made him lose everything. Sure, he was the direct person that did that, but it all started with Sebastian. Five years in prison, being FBI's mascot, all of it was Sebastian's fault. Blaine could feel the anger spread through his body at the thought of his former partner and he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing harshly through his nose, trying to calm himself. God, he hated him so much…

Suddenly, Blaine's eyes snapped open when the realization hit him like a freight train. Yes, he truly hated Sebastian Smythe, the urge to murder him filling every cell of his body whenever he thought about him, but what shocked him the most was the fact that he never felt that rage whenever he thought or interacted with Hummel. Sure, he felt annoyance, sometimes exasperation, but never that kind of overwhelming anger.

And in that moment Blaine realized that maybe he had never really hated Kurt Hummel.

When Kurt woke up the next morning, there was a short moment when he thought that he was in his apartment in New York and was getting himself ready for another day of working with Anderson, but the second he opened his eyes, he realized where he really was, everything coming back to him in an instant. The familiar, dull feeling settled deep down in his chest, as every year on this day, and he reluctantly dragged himself from bed, wondering if it would ever get easier.

Walking into the kitchen, lost in his thoughts, he looked up with surprise when he saw that Anderson was already there, sitting at the table and sipping his coffee. Acknowledging him with a nod, he opened the fridge, but, on a second thought, he realized that he wasn't really hungry at all, so he grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee, sitting on the opposite side of the table, deliberately not looking at Blaine. He wasn't in the mood to fight with him today, so he hoped that maybe if he wouldn't give him any reasons, the forger would, for once, leave him alone.

They sat in silence and Kurt was relieved to see that his strategy was apparently working. Finishing his coffee, Kurt looked up from the mug only to discover that Blaine was already staring at him, his hazel eyes studying him closely. Bracing himself, Kurt met his gaze, evenly looking back at him, waiting for an inevitable blow or cutting remark, but nothing like that happened. Anderson just kept looking at him and Kurt had to admit, it caught him a little off guard and he wasn't sure what to do.

“Any plans for today?” Blaine eventually asked, his voice deep and quiet, completely different from the usual tone he used with Kurt.

Kurt blinked a few times and then nodded curtly. “Let's leave in twenty minutes.” He said, looking questioningly at Anderson and when he nodded, Kurt put the mug in the sink and headed upstairs, briefly wondering what the hell just happened, but deciding not to dwell on it and appreciate that he didn't have to put up with Anderson being an asshole.

True to his word, he returned downstairs about twenty minutes later and found Blaine leaning against the counter in the kitchen, already dressed and ready to go. Without a word they went outside and got to the car, and Kurt began driving, his heart aching more and more the closer they were getting to their destination. As Kurt pulled up in the parking lot next to the cemetery, he cut the engine, but didn't make a move to get out of the car. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

“I can't believe I'm going to say this…” He started, noticing how tired he sounded. “But can I trust you to stay here in the car and don't go anywhere while I'm gone?” He asked, turning his head to look at Anderson.

“Yeah.” Blaine replied shortly, raising his eyebrow at Kurt's slightly surprised expression. “Go, Hummel. I'll be here when you get back.”

Hesitantly, Kurt opened the door and got out of the car, but before he closed the door, he leaned over to look at the forger again. “If you run, I'll find you.” He said, trying to sound stern, but not entirely sure if he succeeded.

In return, Blaine rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly. “Just go, pretty boy.”

Shaking his head, Kurt closed the door of the car and slowly started walking in the direction of the metal gate. Entering the cemetery, he felt a sudden rush of coldness going through his body and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Rationally he knew that it wasn't possible, but it always felt like the temperature dropped a couple of degrees at the cemetery, making it seem even more unwelcome than from afar.

The leaves were crinkling under Kurt's feet as he walked on the familiar path and the light gusts of wind made the branches of the trees rattle from time to time. Other than that, it was completely quiet, Kurt was the only one there and he was grateful for that. He didn't feel like being surrounded by other people, even if they were complete strangers, he just wanted to be alone.

Reaching the familiar tombstone, Kurt stopped in front of it, taking a shaky breath. Looking down at the names of his parents written on the stone, his heart clenched with pain, the same one he felt every time he came here.

“Hey, guys.” He said quietly and sighed, crouching down and touching the letters on the tombstone with his fingers. “I'm… I really miss you. And I wish you were here, now more than anything. My life's such a mess, I could really use your help.”

Deciding to screw everything, Kurt sat down on the cold ground, not even caring about getting dirt on his clothes. “I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just so tired of feeling so empty inside and being alone.” He said, running his fingers through his hair. With another sigh, he shook his head deprecatingly – he was being ridiculous.

“Anyway.” Kurt continued. “Mike is fine, so is Santana… They asked me to say hi.” He said with a thin smile. “You know what. Ignore my previous babbling, that was stupid. I'm great.” He added and briefly wondered if he was trying to convince them or himself. “I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?” Kurt let out a humorless chuckle. “I have everything I've ever wanted. My career at the FBI is advancing, I have the best friends in the entire world… And soon I'll find Smythe and lock him up, and that'll make me the happiest man alive.”

“I… I hope you're doing great, wherever you are.” Kurt continued softly after a short pause. “I hope you are happy.” Standing up, he brushed the dirt of his pants. “I should probably get going, I don't even know if he is still in the car…” He trailed off, shooting a glance in the direction of the parking lot even though he couldn't see his car from where he was standing. Turning back to the tombstone, he smiled softly.

“Don't worry about me, mom.” He said. “I know you always said that it's your job to worry, but I'm okay. Oh, and dad. I hope you're eating healthy. Don't roll your eyes at me, you know I'm right.” He added teasingly, but his smile faltered when he imagined the expression on his father's face, knowing that he would never see that again. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then turned his gaze back on the tombstone for the last time.

“I'll be back next year. I'll see you then, so… don't go anywhere.” Kurt joked weakly with a sad smile on his face and, with one last look, he turned around and walked away, heading back to the car and not daring to look back even once, knowing that it would probably break his heart. It had been five years and it still hurt exactly the same, and Kurt had lost hope a long time ago that it would get better with time. Most people said that time healed, but it didn't seem to work with him. To be honest, he wasn't even that surprised by that – it seemed like the universe had a weird fascination with making him suffer, enjoying it joyfully whenever life kicked him in the ass. It was exhausting, but Kurt had been fighting against the world all his life, he really should be used to that by now.

Reaching the parking lot, he breathed out in relief when he saw Anderson, leaning against the car, not in it, but at least he was still there. There was a tiny part of Kurt that was convinced the forger would flee the moment he left him alone, although it didn't make much sense when he thought about it, it would be much easier for him to run during the night; Kurt wouldn't even realize until he woke up in the morning and by then Anderson would already be far away.

“Don't look so surprised.” Blaine said when Kurt got closer, his voice laced with amusement. “I told you I'd be here.”

“Oh, yeah, because trust is such an important element in our relationship.” Kurt said dryly with his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a shadow of smile.

“Touché.” Anderson grinned.

Getting in the car, Kurt drove them back home and Anderson instantly disappeared into the guest room the moment they arrived. Not bothering with questioning it, Kurt busied himself with cleaning the house; dusting the furniture and making everything look at least a little more presentable. Lost in memories and work, he didn't even realize when evening came until it was so dark in the room that he could barely see anything. Grabbing an old blanket from the dresser in the hallway, he went outside and sat on the small bench on the porch.

Wrapping himself in the blanket, he took a deep breath, enjoying how the cold, crisp, autumn air filled his lunges and he glanced around. It was empty and almost completely dark, only one of the lamps on the house was working, a couple of street lamps lighted the street, and the silence was ringing in Kurt's ears. In New York, it never was fully quiet, the noise was always buzzing there and sometimes Kurt missed that kind of a complete silence, especially after rough days at the office. He sighed deeply. Here, in Lima, everything seemed to go slower, sometimes it felt like the time had stopped.

Kurt wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it wasn't long before the front door opened and footsteps sounded next to him. With a corner of his eyes, Kurt could make out the shape of Anderson's figure, as he walked outside and sat down on the steps.

“I was kind of expecting to find you in a far worse state.” Anderson commented casually, turning his body so he was facing Kurt. “Actually, considering the circumstances, you've been handling it surprisingly well, I haven't seen you crying even once.”

“I don't cry.” Kurt replied automatically, wondering why Anderson even started that conversation, but after the entire day spent mostly by himself, Kurt actually felt like talking, even if it had to be to Anderson.

“How so?” Blaine asked and Kurt could see him tilting his head curiously.

“I just… don't.” Kurt shrugged. “The last time I cried was at my parents' funeral.”

Staring into the darkness, Kurt continued after a short moment of silence. “I didn't cry even when Santana was shot, two years ago. And it was bad. Like, really bad…” He trailed off, not understanding why he was telling Anderson this, but it felt good to share this with someone. Mike and Santana knew, of course, but they didn't mention it, knowing how much Kurt hated talking about it, which was making his confession to Anderson even more surprising.

“Maybe nothing that happened after that was as tragic for you as your parents' death.” Blaine replied.

“But she's my best friend, I was a wreck when she was in the hospital.” Kurt argued, but, deep down, he had a feeling that Anderson might have a point.

“But she pulled through.” The forger said quietly. “Who knows, maybe it would be different for you if she didn't.”

“I don't really want to know if something like this has to be a price.” Kurt replied, shaking his head to get rid of the images of his best friend being dead out of his mind. After that, they fell silent again, their breathing being the only sound surrounding them.

“Why did you bring me here?” Anderson suddenly asked and Kurt's eyes widened, and he was really glad that it was dark outside and the forger couldn't see his reaction.

“You're my responsibility.” He replied evenly. “I'm the agent assigned to watch you, so where I go, you follow.”

“Mhm.” Blaine hummed. “I assume that's what you told your boss, maybe even your friends. But I'm asking for the real reason.” He said quietly and Kurt's breath hitched. He tried to come up with an answer, but his mind went completely blank.

“I… I don't know.” He admitted quietly, hating how weak his voice sounded.

Standing up, Anderson stretched, pulling his arms high above his head. “When you figure it out, let me know.” He said and Kurt could hear in his voice that he was smirking. Not replying, he watched the forger disappear back into the house and when he was sure that he was gone, his mind drifted to what Anderson said. Deep down, he knew exactly why he brought him here. A distraction. But it was easier to just think about it, instead of admitting it out loud.

Making up his mind, he tossed the blanket aside and went back into the house. Slowly, he headed upstairs, stopping by his room to grab some things and then he walked up to the guest room, standing in front of the closed door. He could just walk in, he knew that the door didn't have a lock, but instead, he knocked and waited for an answer.

Seconds later, the door opened revealing Blaine who looked at him expectantly, arching his eyebrow questioningly, but not saying anything. They were staring at each other for a moment and, after releasing the breath he was holding, Kurt took a step forward.

“Make me forget.” He whispered and the moment the words left his mouth, Blaine's hands gripped his hips and he pulled Kurt closer, crashing their lips and wrapping his arms around his waist while Kurt's arms circled his neck, and he moaned into the kiss when Blaine sucked on his lower lip, slowly but surely backing them in the direction of the bed.

And suddenly, Kurt didn't feel so empty anymore.