After Scott silently confiscates our cell phones, Kurt and I move to the back corner of the van. I can barely see his face in the dim depths of the Lincoln Tunnel. Were still holding onto each other tightly, but his breathing has finally evened out and hes not trembling anymore. He still hasnt said a word to me, though. Neither has Scott, nor his anonymous driving companion. Were all sitting terribly quietly as the van speeds toward the New Jersey Turnpike, leaving the skyline of New York City and the ashes of our plan behind us.

The silence is worrying me. Kurt is a lot of things, but quiet isnt one of them. I stroke his shoulder, and he lets out a troubled sigh.

"Did Scott tell you what happened?" he whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"How did Castellanos men find us?" His eyes are pained, and its only then that I catch on.

"No, he didnt say."

Its been a given since day one that, barring some huge slip-up on my part, if my parents were safe then I was safe too. I look nothing like I did when I was twelve, and that alone should protect me from bounty hunters armed with age-progression renderings. The only way that they could conceivably find me would be if they found my parents first. During our honeymoon visit, Kurt and I hadnt ever come right out and told Mom and Dad where we lived, but theyd spent years hearing me talk about our plan to live in New York together. It didnt take a genius to put two and two together.

My palms are sweating, and my mouth is dry. I think of my mom and dad in their little house, reading mystery novels and watching Antiques Roadshow, and I wonder if thats what they were doing when Castellanos men walked in the door. How long did they question Mom and Dad before they gave up my location? What did my parents have to endure before talking was the only way to make it stop?

Kurt shifts, pulling me down so that Im cradled against him. He holds me gently, smoothing back my hair.

Ive always felt guilty for leaving my parents behind. When we were all together, I could protect them just through my appearance. I didnt look like Perfecto, so by association they seemed less likely to be Perfectos parents. Once I was gone, once Id reunited with Kurt, I didnt keep in touch with them like I should have. We wrote to each other sporadically through Scott, but for the most part, we were living our separate lives.

An image flashes in front of my eyes, of my mother being tortured, and I sit up quickly. Kurt watches me, his eyes searching mine. "Blaine?"

I huff out a humorless laugh. "First Scott, now you. Why am I suddenly Blaine again?"

"You never stopped being Blaine to me," he admits. "I know Ive been married to Andrew for five years, but when I think about you, youre always Blaine."

"Well, were going to have to pick new names soon enough. Maybe I can be Blaine again for you."

Scott keeps checking the rear-view mirrors tensely. When I turn around to look behind us, I see that theres a silver sedan right on our tail. Once the van moves to the center lane, though, the sedan accelerates past us. Scott relaxes a bit after that.

Were almost to Delaware when Kurt leans over and says to me, "We need to call my dad."

My heart sinks at the thought of Burt Hummel – the man who, despite knowing the extent of the danger that surrounded me, welcomed me into his family with open arms. He may have dreamed of one day having a daughter-in-law when Kurt was a child, but to know Burt now, youd think that I was exactly what hed always wanted for his only son.

"Its not allowed," I tell Kurt. He knows this. We both know he knows this. "Were not allowed to contact anyone."

"I know," he says. "But I dont care. We need to call my dad."

I nod and think for a while. Scott and the Marshal behind the wheel are murmuring to each other and looking at the exit signs we pass, and I realize that the van must be running low on gasoline. Sure enough, when a rest stop with an Exxon station comes into view, the Marshal signals to the right and pulls off the highway.

Letting go of Kurt, I crawl toward the front of the van. "Hey Scott," I say, leaning on the back of his seat.

"Hey." He half-turns to talk to me, and the tension in his face has faded. I guess that means were out of immediate danger. "Were just pulling over for gas."

"Yeah, I figured. Listen, Kurt and I need to call his father."

Scott sighs. "You know thats never going to happen."

"Right, but the thing is... its going to happen." His eyes widen at my nerve, but I continue undeterred. "See, Burt wont know whats happened to us. We might have been compromised and taken into protective custody. Or, we might have been killed by Castellanos goons and dumped in the Hudson River. Or, hell, we might have been mugged on the street in Chelsea. Burt will have no idea which it is; all hell know is that he cant reach us on the phone. And he has a heart condition. That sort of stress–"

"Im not saying Im not sympathetic," Scott interrupts. "I met Kurts dad at your wedding reception, remember? He seemed like a nice enough guy. But once youre pulled, you cant contact anyone from your old life. You know that, Perfecto."

"Yeah, but I also know Kurt," I tell him. "I know he wont be able to leave without telling his dad. And whether its today, or tomorrow, or in another three months, hell find a phone and hell call Burt. So would you rather he do it now? Or later, when were in an area code that traces back to our new location?"

Scott actually seems to be considering it, as the other Marshal pulls the van up alongside a full-service gas pump and hands the Exxon attendant a wad of cash. So I break out the biggest bargaining chip.

"You owe me," I say.

Scott scoffs. "How do I owe you anything?"

"You violated my rights back in New York. If I say I dont want to go somewhere with you, you cant force me." The other Marshal is watching me, I notice, and nodding a little in agreement. "I almost got separated from my husband because you cant put your past behind you and realize that Im not another Billy–"

"Enough," Scott says, and I know I went too far.

"Well find a way," I push. "Or, you can get a disposable cell phone at this rest stop, and well call Burt from here. Its your call."

Scott glances over at the driver, who gives him a faint shrug. "Not a word of this to anyone, Morris," Scott says to him through gritted teeth, then gets out of the van and hurries away, heading for the Tiger Mart.

The other Marshal – Morris, apparently – keeps looking around us. I cant tell whether its just a force of habit, or whether he actually thinks the bounty hunters could find us here. "Not bad, kid," he says under his breath.

"What?"

"Ive never seen Scott Ward back down on anything. I cant believe you just talked him into breaking the rules."

"Seriously," comes a voice beside me, and Im startled to find that Kurt is at my side. "That was impressive."

I sigh. "Yeah, well. I have some leverage." He raises an eyebrow, but I dont elaborate. Morris probably knows all about Billy Rice, and I dont want him chiming in if I tell Kurt the story. Because there are some details I dont ever want Kurt to know.

We sit and wait for Scott to return, and Im struck yet again by how well Kurt is dealing with all of this. Weve just left our families, our friends, our jobs, our home, our entire lives behind us. All we have now is each other, and a couple of hastily packed suitcases. I would have expected tears, but his eyes are dry and alert as we watch Scott return with a plastic bag.

Scott climbs into the van and pulls out a six-pack of soda, a handful of Slim Jims, and a prepaid disposable cell phone. Kurt snatches the phone from him quickly, and we scurry back into the corner of the van to give ourselves the illusion of privacy. "Theres a five-minute limit on it," Scott calls back to us, opening a Slim Jim. The gas station attendant finishes filling the tank, and Morris steers the van over to idle on the far side of the rest stop.

"We have to be careful what we say," I remind Kurt needlessly. "We dont want him to know anything that could endanger him or your family."

"Our family," he corrects me.

My throat grows tight as I think about my mom and dad again. The fact that Scott hasnt mentioned them at all speaks volumes. Deep down, I realize that Burt Hummel is now the closest thing I have left to a parent. "Right."

Kurt tears open the packaging and turns on the phone, pausing to take a deep breath before dialing his home number. Its late in the morning on a Saturday, which means that Burt and Carole will be relaxing over bagels and slices of cantaloupe, sharing the newspaper over the kitchen table. Kurt used to tease them about how predictable they were, but I always kind of liked it.

Maybe I was just envious. Nothing in my life was ever predictable.

Kurt presses a button and the speakerphone switches on. There are three rings before the call is answered.

"Hello?"

"Carole," Kurt says. "Hey, its me."

"Kurt!" she says, sounding delighted. "I almost didnt pick up because we didnt recognize the number on the caller ID. You calling to talk to your dad?"

"Yes, please." He holds out his free hand and I take it, squeezing it as we wait.

"Sure, honey. Just a second, hes right here."

Theres a brief fumbling noise, and then – "Hello?"

"Hey Dad."

"Hey yourself, city slicker! Hows it going?"

"Well, weve had a bit of an exciting morning."

"Oh really? Which designer had a sample sale?"

I cant decide whether to laugh or cry at how well Burt knows his son, and how – despite their being polar opposites – he accepts him so thoroughly.

"No sample sales today, Dad. Actually, Im calling to let you know that the tide has changed."

I look up at him quizzically, but hes just staring at the phone. Theres a long, long pause before Burt answers tensely.

"Are you all right?"

"Im fine."

"And Andrew?"

"Were both fine."

"Youre safe?"

"Yes, were setting out to sea."

I dont know why it surprises me that Kurt would have worked out a code with his father. I guess Im just surprised that he never mentioned it to me before.

"Andrews really there with you?" Burt says, and I speak up.

"Im here, Burt," I call.

"Good." He breathes out slowly. "Youre together, good. And youll take care of my boy?"

"I promise I will. Ill protect him with my life."

"You two know how much I love you, right? And that Im so proud of both of you?"

"We love you too," we say in unison, and then theres a long silence.

"Ill miss you," Burt says sadly, and Kurt raises his fist to press against his mouth hard.

"Well miss you too," he says. "I love you, Dad. Thanks for... everything."

"Its..." Burt cant seem to finish the sentence, and Kurt shakes his head, his eyes bright.

"Bye, Dad," he whispers.

"Bye, sons."

We end the call, and Kurt finally crumples. He falls into my lap, his body shaking with sobs, as Morris pulls back onto the highway.