"Cold out, isn't it?" Kurt tried to fill the strangely silent night the two boys had been having. Something's off. He decided, fiddling with his hands but never losing stride as he kept pace with Blaine. They're not holding hands, which is also strange. They hold hands a lot. Or they at least walk less than a foot away from each other. Something's definitely off. Kurt repeated in his head.

"Yeah," was all Blaine mumbled in response. Kurt inhaled sharply through his nose. Why is this so awkward? It's not supposed to be awkward. Nothing is ever awkward between us. Kurt and Blaine, not only boyfriends, but also best friends. That's how it had been for a long time, and Kurt wasn't looking to change that. But was Blaine?

Kurt started rambling off different questions in his head. Am I doing something wrong? Did I upset you? What did I do to make you this way? But instead he turned to Blaine, "Is something bothering you?" He blurted, somehow wishing he'd chosen a different way of approaching the question.

"What?" Blaine asked, suddenly being pulled from his deep thoughts. "No, no..." He paused. "Well, maybe." He whispered softly, avoiding Kurt's eyes. "I don't know, actually." He decided on, folding his hands together and staring blankly at the sidewalk of Central Park. Oh that's right. New York City. Isn't this place supposed to be somewhat magical? A place where dreamers come to fulfill their dreams and live out their happiness? Some dream this was. The negativity of Kurt's thoughts ate away at his brain.

"What don't you know?" Kurt wondered aloud, continuing to walk forward.

"I don't know," Blaine began, taking a deep breath and glancing at Kurt. "If this is working, after all." Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. No. His mind was reeling, all sorts of thoughts flowing through his head at once. No, no, no. He inwardly begged. "It's the distance, you know?" Blaine cleared his throat. Kurt's heart was beating rapidly, although he felt as if it had stopped. Blaine swallowed loudly, like an exaggerated 'gulp'. When Kurt didn't reply, Blaine decided to elaborate.

"I can't stand waking up every morning without you within a few miles of me. Just knowing you're around, knowing that if I need you, I can contact you. Yeah, I can call you, or text you, or even go on webcam with you. But that's not the same, Kurt. I miss you. I miss my warm, solid, boyfriend. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I'm falling apart from the inside out." Blaine took a deep breath, his voice wavering. "Kurt, did you know-" He choked up. "Did you know that we haven't exchanged 'I love you's in a whole two months? Did you know that?"

Kurt knew that. He thought he'd been suffocating Blaine with his constant affection, so he was waiting for Blaine to say it first. He had no idea that Blaine was doing the same.

"Kurt, I miss you. But there's nothing we can do about it. It's not like I could make you come back to Ohio, but it's not realistic that I could suddenly up and move to New York, either. And Kurt, I would never, never make you give up your dreams for me. If I was ever the reason you weren't able to fulfill your dreams, I'd... I don't know what I'd do, but I wouldn't be happy about it." Blaine continued. "I just, can't be without you anymore. I can't." There was a long pause before Blaine spoke up again. "Kurt, I think... I think maybe we should bre-"

"No." Kurt interrupted abruptly.

"Kurt-"

"Stop, just stop." Kurt's voice cracked, the very essence of his soul splitting in two. "You're not breaking up with me because you want me to 'fulfill my dreams'. You're breaking up with me because you can't handle it anymore. You're breaking up with me for you, not me. Don't make this into something it's not." He practically shrieked hysterically. A few couples and elderly women eyed them curiously. "What happened to promising to always love me? To kiss me wherever, and whenever I want, huh? What happened to that?" Kurt threw up his arms wildly.

"Kurt, please, you don't have to make a scene."

"I don't have to-" Kurt rolled his eyes and scoffed loudly. "I don't have to make a scene? Wow, okay! Okay, Blaine. I guess we can just flush all those memories down the toilet. Forget it ever happened, right?" Kurt's cheeks were stained with tears that refused to stop flowing. "Well, whatever. If that's what you want, fine." He turned on his heels, folding his arms across his chest as he started to walk far, far away.

"Kurt!" Blaine called after him, but Kurt didn't stop. In fact he didn't stop for almost eleven miles. He just kept on walking. He didn't turn around, just kept moving forward. He wished he could forget. But how could he? Blaine had consumed his life. He was the reason he woke up in the morning feeling refreshed, and the reason he slept soundly at night. Now that he didn't have that, what did he have? His dreams? Blaine was apart of those too. Living together was in there. Proposing to one another was in there. Sharing their vows was in there. Adopting their first child was in there. Growing old together was in there. It was all in there. Even his dreams of Broadway involved Blaine. Blaine standing in the audience on opening night. On every night at every performance. Kurt knew Blaine would come to every single one, just because he could.

Or at least, he would have. But now that was gone. It was all gone. Blaine was gone. Kurt's eyes burned with still-hot-tears. He wanted to disappear. To melt into a puddle and seep into the cracks in the cement. A few frivolous teenagers passed him by, one of them blasting their iPhones. Kurt unknowingly tuned into what was erupting from their speaker.

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel. Like you're less than, less than perfect. Pretty, pretty please. If you ever, ever feel. Like you're nothing, you are perfect, to me.

And that's when Kurt had his second breakdown. He'd had one before, of course. It was the night his father landed himself in the hospital. But this one seemed worse, which didn't seem physically possible.

He ran into the nearest brick wall. Sticky, wet, and awfully unsanitary. But he'd lost all sense of care for that kind of thing. He slid down the wall, hugging himself and grabbing his knees, pulling them to his chest. He took out his phone and dialed Rachel's number directly, as his vision was too blurred from crying to read the names of his contacts. "Rachel." He croaked. "I need you."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Kurt. Elizabeth. Hummel!" Rachel's voice boomed in their small two bedroom, one bath apartment. (Which offered considerable sound quality and acoustics.) Her heels clinked quickly across their wooden floors as she marched her way to Kurt's room. She wrenched open his mahogany door, causing it to fly into the wall, probably leaving a dent where the doorknob would have impaled it. Rachel ignored the cracking sound of the wall and threw herself onto Kurt's bed, where he was currently curled up under mountains of sheets and comforters. "Get up, Captain Lazy!" She announced loudly.

"Go away." Kurt hissed, grabbing the covers and pulling them closer around him.

"Ne-ver." Rachel sing-songed. She sighed when Kurt didn't so much as move an inch to comply to her demand. "Kurt, I'm serious. You need to get up. It's been three months."

"I haven't been in here for three months, you're exaggerating."

"No, but he's been gone for three-"

"What was our agreement?" Kurt shouted, plugging his ears under the sheets and starting his usual 'La, la, la, I can't hear you!' bit. Rachel smacked his hand through the blankets.

"No mentioning him, I know, I know. But I'm worried about you." Rachel's voice slipped into a softer tone. "Hey." She poked the shape of his body. "Please talk to me?" Kurt sighed reluctantly and shoved a few of the blankets out of the way, almost knocking Rachel off of his bed. He left a few sheets over himself, still hiding away. Rachel rolled her eyes and crawled under the sheets to join him.

"What are you doing?" His eyes widened at how ridiculous it must look for the two of them to be hiding under the covers together.

"Getting on your level." She huffed, sitting up and grabbing his face. "Okay, Mr. Hummel. We're going to talk." Before Kurt could even roll his eyes or open his mouth for a rebuttle, she squished his cheeks together. "You, my good man, are the most talented person I've ever met. Besides myself, of course." The corners of Kurt's mouth turned up into a small, but noticeable smile. "We're getting somewhere!" She beamed, referring to his tiny grin.

"Anyways," She continued. "I've never met someone with so much potential. So much potential that is seriously being thrown out the window right now just because of a br-" She mentally kicked herself, closing her eyes and nodding her head. "Because of a minor set back."

"Whaddyou sug'est ido?" Kurt wondered, his speech slurred by the way Rachel's hands were squeezing his face.

"I suggest you get this cute little butt out of bed, and back onto the streets of New York. You still need to show this city what you've got, and honey, you've got a lot." Kurt smiled and took a deep breath. 

"I can't... I can't promise that I'll get better." He said softly, weakly, like a scared child.

"I know. But you can try. You'll never get anywhere if you don't." She pointed out, poking his nose playfully. He smiled fondly.

"What would I do without my Rachel Berry?" He asked, holding his arms out in proposal of a hug.

"Not a whole lot, apparently." She joked, squeezing him into a tight embrace and nuzzling his neck. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"You smell. Take a shower." Kurt chuckled, probably the most, and loudest, he'd done in a while. Rachel gave herself a mental pat on the back for being able to still make him laugh, after what he'd gone through. "I missed you, Kurt." She whispered. Kurt hummed and nodded his head.

"I missed you too, and I'm sorry." He replied softly, holding her waist and yawning. His stomach growled ridiculously loud in their suddenly quiet apartment. Kurt blushed and laughed, embarrassed at the noise. "I don't know how long it's been since I've had a decent meal that wasn't ice cream and tears." He tried for a joke, but really just made himself frown. Rachel half-smiled.

"Come on, darling, I'll make you a nice, home-cooked meal." She grinned, tossing the blankets piled above them off of Kurt's bed and onto the floor. Kurt smiled.

"You'd really do that? But you never cook. You're too lazy..." He teased, biting his lower lip as he smiled wider. Rachel gasped and grasped her heart dramatically.

"How dare you! I am not lazy! I just don't like to cook, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Please, oh wise and beautiful Rachel Berry, cook me something delicious." He clasped his hands together, bowing his head exaggeratedly. Rachel grinned and leaped from Kurt's bed, kicking her shoes off and sliding across the floor in her socks. She came to a stop at the exit of Kurt's room and turned around sharply, leaning against the door frame.

"I will. And it will be the best thing you have ever tasted in your whole entire life." She stated, pointing her finger at Kurt and placing her other hand on her hip. "And if it's not, you should say it is anyway." She winked, moving to leave but stopping and moving back to look at Kurt. "Oh and Kurt?" Kurt lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "I love you." Rachel smiled. He laughed softly and tilted his head.

"I love you too."