Later that afternoon, after Kurt had shed their bubbles all over the yard and coated the grass in a thin layer of soap, the two of them sat side by side on one of the sticky patches of grass. They hadnt said anything for a while, just watched the busy world pass by around them. Neither of them were a part of it, though. They were on their own planet, Blaine was convinced... a very gooey one, but a good one, nonetheless. Blaine watched the clouds roll by above them, and the mother bird occasionally flying in and out of her nest. He felt so separated from everything around him, and hed never felt more content. Closing his eyes and disappearing even farther into his safe place with Kurt, he cracked one of them open when light fingers brushed the top of his hand. Kurt laid his palm over Blaines knuckles, his thin fingers curling around Blaines. It was a gentle squeeze, something so soft that Blaine almost mistook it for the grass blowing against his hand, but it made Blaine so happy that he smiled and scooted closer to Kurt.

But Kurts comforting warmth didnt last very long because he popped to his feet, his tiny hands wrapping around his hips. Blaine peeled his lids up, staring at the boy whose eyes were flickering around the yard, searching for something that Blaine couldnt see. Raising his brows at Kurt as he tried to figure out that unusual mind, Blaine jumped when Kurt suddenly hopped and clapped his hands. "I know just what our yard needs! Come with me." Before Blaine could open his mouth to say okay, Kurt scuttled away on quick toes, vanishing through the front door. Still unsure of why he had to leave his relaxation time, Blaine scrambled onto his feet, taking very long steps to catch up with Kurt. Peering through the slightly open door, Blaines eyes widened when Kurt popped out of the kitchen, beckoning Blaine over to him.

Doing as hed been told, Blaine crept through the house and slowly went through the kitchen door, finding Kurt going through one of the drawers. He snuck up behind him and looked over his shoulder, seeing a few packets in his hands. "How pretty." Kurt murmured, holding up one of the packets and showing Blaine a picture of a few flowers. "My maman gave me seeds in hopefulness of the coming spring. Some of these flowers are only found in France! Arent they lovely?" Giving Blaine a stack of the packets and taking a few for himself, Kurt scampered out of the kitchen, rushing to put the seeds in the ground. They walked over to the side of the house, where Kurt decided would be the best place to put a flower, and he plopped to the ground in his favorite spot. Patting the spot beside him, Kurt stole Blaines packets from him and spread them out. He chose which flower seemed the most beautiful, the red roses, and he gave Blaine a pretty smile, "If I could, I would name this flower Blaine. A wonderful name for a wonderful flower, isnt it?"

Putting his hands on the crunchy grass, Blaine dug his nails into the dirt and scratched at it until his fingers were coated in brown and his jeans were specked with mud. Kurt pinched a few seeds between his fingers and dropped them into the hole, letting Blaine cover them up. "How very exciting to see such an amazing flower grow. It will need some water! Ill be back in a moment." Bouncing to his feet, Kurt ran his fingers through Blaines hair before he skipped away, his hips swishing from side to side and his hands waving. Blaine watched him go, a small frown tugging at his lips, and then he turned back to his job and dug up another hole.

By the time he finished about three holes, he heard Kurts singing, a light tune that made clear how very happy he was. Even when he returned to Blaines side and got back to scattering seeds, he kept singing, his pink lips parting with every breathtaking note. Blaine got so distracted by that ringing in his ears that he forgot to scoop out more dirt for the next flower, and he was reminded of the task at hand when Kurts blue eyes lifted to his blank face. Sucking in his lips that had been parted and blinking his eyes that had been wide, Blaine turned as red as the roses would be when Kurt giggled at that awestruck expression.

Turning to the ground and hiding his face from Kurt, Blaine gasped as those pink hands cupped his cheeks and brought his head back up. A pointy nose rubbed against his, a feeling so thrilling that Blaine flushed again, but not from embarrassment. His throat tightened, making it harder for him to gulp. His toes curled. Blaine forgot that hed rid himself of his shoes when Kurt had, just so they could feel the grass sliding between their toes, and he realized that Kurt could see his nervousness as well as he could see his own hands. But, then again, Kurt didnt need to look at Blaines tight body to decode anything. He could read his mind. Kurts lips pressed against his, bringing him back to himself, and he heard him laugh, "You flatter me, my Blaine. Do you think these flowers will be as beautiful as I am? My maman often told me that the reddest of roses are so red because they blush with shame when I come near."

Blaines eyes widened to the size of saucers. Kurt laughed again, that button nose wrinkling, and he covered it with the tips of his fingers. Twisting away from Blaine, Kurt snatched a watering pot and held it out for Blaine, "Would you like to help me water, my dearest? Thatd be very nice of you."

Taking the can from Kurt, Blaine tilted it over the holes and dribbled water onto the dirt. He liked the task that kept his eyes away from Kurt, that way he could humiliate himself a little less. But he still managed to tense up his body when Kurt pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I know what you think... that I can read your mind." Blaines mouth fell open. He hadnt wanted Kurt to read that deeply through his thoughts, but he realized that he was just like a book to Kurt, one of those stories that he appreciated with every single word. "But you are just like an open book. I can see when youre sad... and when youre happy..." Blaine could almost see the smile on Kurts lips from that frivolous tone, "and I can see when youre scared. Oh, Blaine, I would rather have such a silly prince who shows everything to me... than a serious prince who frowns like this!" Pressing his fingers to the corners of Blaines mouth, he tugged his lips down, and a playful giggle bubbled from his lips.

Blaine didnt say anything to that, something that Kurt immediately read into, and he moved one of his hands down to Blaines shoulder. "But you know that you can read my mind, dont you? You think youre powerless when it comes to me... but youre not. Oh, Blaine, I dont hide a thing from you. Can you see me? See me smile and cry? See me laugh and scream? Can you tell me what Im thinking?" When Blaine hesitantly raised his head, looking at Kurt but doubting that he could ever figure out what went through that precious mind, he bit his bottom lip, startled by those shimmering eyes and those parted lips. Such a fervor was about him. Blaine realized how very strong Kurt was, capable of taking on anything, even Blaine.

"You think Im sweet." Blaine mumbled, his words so drawn out that they almost slurred together. He wondered if Kurt could understand him, but by the sudden brightness that flashed into those blue orbs, he knew that he had read his mind, figuring out that Blaine actually believed what he had just said. "You think Im beautiful... like I think you are."

The biggest grin overwhelmed Kurts tiny face, and he wrapped his arms around Blaines neck. The two of them snuggled against each other, waiting for the flowers to bloom in front of them.

Hunter didnt know if it was daytime or nighttime. He hadnt seen the sunlight for what felt like a few hours, or could have been a few minutes, or years. Like Sleeping Beauty, hed curled around himself and slept for many years, but he hadnt been woken by his Prince Charmings kiss. He must have rolled over sometime during his uneasy snooze because a throb had startled him up and about, and even though hed wanted to cry because hed never woken up to pain-sometimes Archers shrill screaming, but never pain-hed sucked in his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. Hed been terrified at his first glance around after his short nap, unsure of why he was in this new place, but he hadnt cried. He couldnt alert that horrid man who had done something bad to his body that he still didnt understand.

Taking a few breaths as he pushed himself down from the bed, he stepped very slowly over the creaky floor. So scared that he would be caught by that man, Hunter felt his bladder rush down, a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, but he had no clue where the bathroom was. Waddling over to the window, he briefly checked over his shoulder for any movements, but there was nothing. He grabbed the curtain and nudged it aside, giving him not even an inch to peek outside. He saw a fading evening that was getting overtaken by a darkness that was darker than any Hunter had ever seen before. No birds flew by. No clouds rolled in the sky. No trees waved from side to side. It was silent. And motionless. He turned away from the window after he discovered no daddy of his, and he crept back across the floor, but he didnt go to the bed. He knew that he had to get out of here.

Pushing through the door, Hunter turned his head this way and that, but there was still nothing. From below him, he heard a muffled TV, but it wasnt playing the happy shows that he used to watch, all with singing dogs and dancing cats. Whoever was speaking sounded very dismal. No wonder that man was so miserable if all he did was surround himself with misery. Hunter had learned from a young age that he could only be as happy as he wanted to be, and Hunter liked to be happy with his family, so he had to go back to them. Stepping down the stairs, Hunter squeaked when one of them screamed under his foot, a noisiness that sounded like an alarm to his ears. But nothing. He walked deeper into the living room, seeing the door that was only a few feet away, but he froze when someone snorted. His eyes flicked over to where the rustling was coming from, and he felt the color drain out of his face at the sight of that man, his body stretched out across the couch, one leg hanging off the edge. His hand held very loosely a bottle of yellow liquid, but Hunter couldnt tell what it was, maybe orange juice. He snored again, a rough sound that made Hunter wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Turning his back on the drooling and slobbering man, Hunter headed over to the door and stretched to reach the handle, but his hand quickly dropped to his side when Karofsky grumbled and mumbled. He jerked his head over his shoulder, his brown eyes meeting Karofskys, which narrowed and blinked a few times. Sleep had built up in the corners, blinding him from the little boy who was trying to escape him. Even though Hunter wanted so badly to get out, he backed away from the door, knowing that he wouldnt be fast enough on his much shorter legs to outrun that man. Next time, Hunter assured himself he would get away. Giving Karofsky a small frown to show him exactly how he was feeling, Hunter came back over to the middle of the room and sat down by the couch. He stared at the abandoned TV, which showed a burnt house that a couple of policemen were searching, but he looked back up at Karofsky when his large hand rubbed his back.

"What are you doing?" Karofsky muttered, his voice much quieter than it was when he was screaming at him. His low tone almost sounded comforting to Hunters ears, which still rang from all of the shouting that had gone on earlier. Pushing into Karofskys massaging hand, Hunter closed his eyes when that hand came to his head and gently stroked him. "Do you want to play?" Hunters eyes opened at the offer of playing, which he loved to do, and he wondered if what had happened earlier had all been a part of a dream. He still wanted to leave Karofsky so he could go back to his beloved family, but as long as he was being nice to him, he didnt mind spending a few more hours with him until he could try to leave again. "What do you like to do? Youve got to tell me."

"Can I have some paper?" Hunter mumbled, his voice still scratchy from the sleep hed just woken up from. Watching Karofsky struggle to lift his big body from the couch, Hunter followed him with his wary eyes, still cautious in case that wasnt actually a dream. But Karofsky had calmed down and almost seemed normal now, just going over to the computer desk and searching the shelves for something. He pulled out a pocket sized journal that had worn to a rust color, the corners bent and yellowed, and the edges of the paper smudged with something dark, maybe a spilled drink. Picking up a few pens, Karofsky brought the things back over to Hunter and put them down in front of him, then he left the room in favor of something in the kitchen.

Hunter took the journal in his palms, feeling the weight of the paper that he already loved, and he flipped to the first page. It was absolutely blank. Anything could go on it, any thought that he had. Deciding on sketching a quick picture of his family, Hunter pulled it away from himself and looked over his loved ones, each of them so special to him. "I miss you." He whispered to them, pressing a kiss to the page that was stained in something that tasted terrible between his lips. "Ill be home soon." Squeezing the journal to his chest, he glanced back up at Karofsky, who walked into the room, a glass of water in his hand. He passed it over to Hunter, who gazed into the water that had specks floating in it. Even though he didnt want to drink it because the glass was dirty and the water wasnt clear, he appreciated the kindness from the strange man who he still wasnt sure why he wanted to keep him. He thought about mentioning his family to him so he might take him back. Maybe he thought that Hunter had been thrown onto him because hed been an orphan before, and he was sure that this was Hunters first home. Maybe hed wanted a child for a long time, which was why that woman had given him over to this man. But Hunter knew that he just wasnt the child for him.

Slipping the journal under his thigh, Hunter lifted his brown eyes to the mans face, which was facing the TV, "I have a family." He said softly, and Karofsky tore his blank eyes away from the screen. "Can I go home now? I have a daddy... and a père... and a best friend-"

"You want to leave?" Karofsky cut him off, his voice like a nail that punctured Hunters ears. Slowly sitting up, Karofsky revealed exactly what Hunter had feared, that he hadnt been imagining that anger that had sparked out of him earlier, when his brows lowered over dull eyes. A large hand suddenly lashed out at Hunter, whacking him across the cheek before he could duck his head. Shrinking into himself, Hunter squinted his eyes, trying not to show the burst of tears that swelled in the corners of his eyes. He didnt want to go through that horrendous pain again. He wasnt sure if his bottom could take that heavy weight even one more time. "No! You cant leave me!" As if he couldnt even stand to be in the same room as Hunter, Karofsky pushed himself off the couch and thudded past him, ignoring those small whimpers that slipped out of Hunters lips. Whenever his daddy heard even the smallest of cries, he was at his side in an instance, turning him this way and that to check him for bruises and bumps, but this man paid no mind to Hunters weak sobbing.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Hunter tucked his legs against his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. When he shifted around, his thigh brushed the journal that had been tucked away, and he considered those blank pages again. Wiping away his tears, he grabbed the journal again and whipped the first page aside, landing on the second page. He pressed the pen so hard to the paper that the ink seeped through it, spreading onto the next page. One of his tears leaked onto the whiteness, turning it into an ugly gray. Scratching the pen across the paper, he made two lines, and then another, and another. He peeled his pen away once he was done, and he stared down at what he thought was his name, but might have been just gibberish. He was trying so hard to remember the shapes of the words in the storybooks his daddy used to read to him when he was sleepy, but most of the time his eyes had been closed. Writing his name again, and again, and again, he almost drew right off of the page, so he flipped onto his next one and kept writing.

When he got through three pages of writing words that he wasnt sure were meaningless or not, he put his book down and turned back to the first page, which showed his happy family. Setting the pen onto one of the people, he scribbled him out of his daddys arm, removing him from the picture. From the family. He was hidden from them, behind a blackness that would never brighten. Picking up his journal and putting it in his pocket, he ran over to the stairs and darted up them, almost tripping a few times and falling onto his sore bottom. He charged down the hallway and over to a room that was supposedly his, but he realized that hed accidentally stumbled upon the bathroom. He was unable to reach the light, so he walked through the darkness that he knew he had to get used to. A blurry image of himself appeared in the dusty mirror, a little boy with a frown on his face, someone he didnt know who was marked and scarred with cuts and bruises.

He opened his journal again, holding it up to the mirror so he could see the backwards letters. But he knew the words as well as he knew the back of his hand, first his name, but then, "Daddy, hes hiding me. Im scared. Please bring me home to you, and Père, and Uncle Keegan, and my Archer."

They soon left Ohio after the thought of being so close to Karofsky nearly drove Blaine to his death, with the low murmurs of "Blaine, Im sorry." and "Kurt, are you okay, sweetheart?" and "Archer, itll all be fine." following them out the door. Blaine had heard of widows, and motherless children, and siblings without brothers being told "Im sorry for your loss." but he hadnt ever thought that he would be the one that people looked upon with frowns, as if he was a small bug that they briefly pitied before they stepped on him. Even his husband, who always seemed appreciative of any kindness anyone gave him, had become numb to his shoulders being rubbed and his forehead being kissed. He just stared, as Blaine did, at something that no one else could see. But Blaine almost regretted leaving Ohio, because, as he reached down for a baby and tucked him away in the car, he, by habit, bent for another, but there was nothing there for him to wrap his hands around.

There was nothing. The drive away from Ohio was filled with the thickest silence, all of their throats clogged with bubbles of tears that threatened to break free at any moment. Blaine knew that his husband wanted to scream and sob. It was clear from the stunned expression on his face. But they all had to keep it down, at least for Archer, who was still unaware of what had really happened. In his eyes, his best friend had just gone away for a few days, to somewhere that he was hiding for this long and drawn out game of hide-and-seek. He was still searching for his hidden friend, and seeing his babys head turn this way and that as he looked around for his Hunter made Blaine snap at the seams, so he resisted turning away from that long road.

He was so deep in his trance that he didnt even notice the sun drop from the sky, replacing the light with a blinding blackness. His exhaustion wasnt even felt, and when Keegan leaned forward and tapped his shoulder, silently asking if he wanted to switch to the back of the car so he could rest, he finally blinked his eyes and noticed a sign that they were in some town in Kansas. His fingers twitched on the steering wheel, and then they tightened until he felt the fabric ripping. Taking a deep breath because he wasnt sure if hed been inhaling and exhaling for the past few hours, Blaine shuddered as he collapsed against the steering wheel again, his forehead hitting the dashboard. Keegans hand touched his back, gently rubbing him, but Blaine didnt want the comfort. He wanted his baby back. He wanted his soft touch on his skin. "I had to leave him behind." Blaine heaved, his voice so weak that he wondered if Keegan understood him. "I-Im his dad. I was supposed to protect him-I couldnt... Keegan, I couldnt-I didnt even get to say goodbye. The last thing I did was fight with Finn! Thats the last thing he remembered about me!"

"Blaine..." Keegan tried to hush him, his hand raising to Blaines head, "Blaine, you have to calm down. Listen to me... I know its hard. I know. Ive been through it." Smoothing Blaines sweaty hair off his forehead, Keegan pulled him around, but Blaine tried to jerk his snotty and disgusting face away. Keegan grabbed Blaine again and shushed him, "Blaine... you cant talk like that. I did for a long time... and I almost went crazy over it. I stayed strong because of Kurt. You have to tell yourself that you have to keep your head up for your husband and son. I k-know how hard it is, Blaine. Youre not alone. You were a good dad to him... you were wonderful. You treated Hunter like gold. Okay? And you know what the last thing he thought about was? I promise you that he thought of you... and he thought of Kurt... and his Archer. He loved you with a-all his heart. He knew you did your best to raise him right."

"I miss my b-baby." Blaine keened, turning around to see the road hed just driven over. His sons body was somewhere far behind him, somewhere in Karofskys hold-his poor, little, black and blue body. His breath rushed out of him, and Blaine struggled to escape his trapping seat. Remembering the damage that Karofsky had done to him, the violent slapping and hitting and kicking, he pounded his fist against his headrest as he thought about how his baby must have suffered before he passed away. "Keegan, he tortured him!" Keegans arms quickly wrapped around him, trying to contain his thrashing as he struggled to get back to his baby. He decided that he really did want to take his body from Karofsky, but he couldnt get back to him-he couldnt, he couldnt. Falling against Keegans chest, Blaine gasped into his shirt, smelling the earthy cologne that he always seemed to wear. As he rested on Keegans shoulder, he closed his eyes and thought about how nice it really was to talk to him, since he hadnt lost a baby to Karofsky, but his boyfriend. They had gone through the same thing, so Blaine wondered if he would ever get out of his shock over what had happened. He would never accept it, as Keegan never had, but he could try to keep his heart from breaking. He knew that if it did, it would kill him.

Blaine no longer found the ocean beautiful. It didnt look the same as it used to, not when his children used to play in the sand, rolling around in it until they looked like little monsters, or building the highest sandcastles and then bickering about whose was taller. Now Blaine saw Karofsky in those waves, crashing against the sand and drawing closer to his baby, waiting to snatch him up just as he had his other. Reaching down for his baby, he nudged him over to the front door and pushed it open. Archer pranced inside his house, his wild curls bouncing around his cheeks as he tried to finish the game of hide-and-seek. "Hunner!" He cried, scurrying up the stairs to find his best friend in their bedroom. Exhausted from the long drive that Blaine couldnt even remember because his mind was in such a jumble, he scratched his jaw and staggered after Archer. He wanted to take a very long shower so he could avoid seeing and hearing.

He lost the little bit of energy left in him as he stumbled up the stairs, each step harder to take than the last. Panting by the time he got to the hallway, he bent his straining neck toward the cry of his baby. He hurried in the direction of their bedroom, looking through the door at his little one, who was tucked under the bed. "Hunner!" He tried again, and then he huffed when he got no lead as to where Hunter might be. From behind him, two tiny birds waddled over to the strange sight that he was, and Pavarotti pecked at his shoe. Peeking over his shoulder, Archer smiled at the two of them, "Pavarotti, Everett, help me find Hunner!" He scrambled out from under his bed, scurrying around his room with the birds fluttering after him, curious as to what all of the yelling was about. Something must have distracted Archer from his search when he paused mid-step and whirled around to the window. A delighted look overwhelmed his tiny face, something that gave Blaine a moment of hope that his baby had magically appeared in his front yard. Not caring if the idea was completely outrageous, Blaine darted over to Archers side and pressed his face to the window, but no Hunter was walking around.

Scampering away from the window, Archer gave a victory shout, "Its Père!" He thumped down the stairs, obviously wanting to hunt down Kurt, and Blaine looked down at where he was headed. Kurt was perched on the very edge of the waves that rushed up to his skirts, making his dress damp. He didnt seem to feel the cool water that soaked his pale legs, his body completely withdrawn from everything around him. He held a small flower in his hand, and, one by one, he plucked the petals from it and tossed them into the water. Raising his brows at his sad husband, Blaine jumped when a hand pressed to his back. Twisting around to face Keegan, Blaine frowned at him, then he turned back to his husband, who was soon joined by Archer. Archer skittered over to him on light feet, falling into his lap in a giggling mess of tangled limbs.

"Hes very good at saying goodbye... isnt he?" Blaine heard from behind him, and he lowered his brows at what Keegan had said. Staring at his husband and catching the way his knees wrinkled when his legs were stretched out, and how his smooth arms wrapped around the squirming baby in his lap, Blaine considered how hed had to leave so many people, from his mom when he was only eight years old, to Blaine twice, and both times thinking that theyd never see each other again. To his dad, who he was unsure of when or if hed see him again, and to his aunt, who Blaine was sure he missed very much. His aunt had been his mom for a very long time, wiping his mouth when he was young, and fitting him into dresses and shoes as he got older, and giving him advice on things he was uncertain about-probably Blaine, at some time or another. In that way, Blaine was just like her with his own children. And now there was Hunter who he had to kiss goodbye. And through all of that, he had been strong, a trait Blaine had shied away from.

"The only people Ive ever said goodbye to hated me." Blaine admitted, unsure if he was telling that to Keegan or to himself.