"Oh no."

I spring off the couch, burying my fingers in my hair. I never called Kurt. I never called him.

"No no no no no..."

Where is my phone? Where—

"This is not happening."

I cant manage to wrap my brain around everything that this implies, but my heart is already aching with understanding.

"Dont do this. Not now."

My phone isnt on the coffee table. I pull the cushions off the couch; its not under them, either. Its a testament to how slowly my brain is working that I check the pants Im wearing last, finding the cell in my right front pocket.

One missed call.

"Shit," I choke out, checking the number. It was Kurt. Kurt called me. At 4:21 this morning. A glance at the display on the DVD player tells me its after eleven now. "Shit." My chest feels so tight. Its hard to breathe.

He waited for me. He waited all night for me to call. I cant even imagine what it took for him to be the one to call me, and when he did, I didnt even answer the phone. Oh god, what did he think when I didnt answer?

With shaking fingers, I dial his number. The call goes straight to voicemail. I try again, and again, and I keep getting his voice recording. Did he wait so long for my call that his battery died? Did he turn off his phone, assuming that Id chosen Sebastian and hed never hear from me again?

My knees are swaying, and I can hear a low pained sound that must be coming from my throat. Why did I drink last night? What was I thinking? Why did I call the cab company after my realization, when I could have called Kurt?

I look around for my shoes. The taxi driver must have taken them off for me before he left. Theres one lying near the couch, but I dont see the other. Theres no time to search for it. Theres no time for anything. I cant even imagine what Kurt is going through right now. I need to get to him. I grab my snow boots and shove them onto my feet. My car key is on the table by the door, still attached to the fuzzy crocodile keychain that Kurt won for me at the carnival. In seconds Im out the door, running for the elevator.

Its bright outside, the sunlight bouncing harshly off the snow. Cursing my hangover, I run to my car and slip on a pair of cheap sunglasses that I keep in the glove compartment. They block out the worst of the suns glare as I head for Lima, my foot pressing steadily on the accelerator.

I make it to Kurts house in record time, and then sit in my car in numb terror. What if he doesnt forgive me? I briefly consider sneaking over to his window and knocking on it. I dont, though — not out of respect for his privacy, but mostly out of fear that hell see me and draw the blinds closed. I walk up to his front door, wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, and draw a deep breath. The worst he could do is refuse to talk to me, right? Id be in the same boat Im in now. Only not, because Id lose the little blossom of hope thats still curled deep inside me. Steeling myself, I reach forward and ring the doorbell.

The sound of footsteps grows louder. I hold my breath as the door starts to open.

"I dunno, probably one of those Jehovahs..." Kurts father is standing there, his mouth falling open as he catches sight of me.

I clear my throat nervously, rocking on my heels. "Ah, hello, is Kurt—" I cant get out another word, because hes rushing onto the stoop and pulling me into a hug so hard my breath gets knocked from my chest.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. He doesnt let up, keeps squeezing me as though I might disappear. For some reason, I kind of like it. "Is it really you? Did your memory— Oh my god. This is... oh my god, kid, I dont pray, but if I did, Id have been praying for exactly this." He pulls back eventually, swallowing thickly and clapping my shoulder. "Come in, come in. God, its so good to see you."

I smile politely, following him inside. Kurts stepmother is folding underwear at the kitchen table. When she sees me, she too rushes to hug me, still holding a pair of boxers in her hand.

"I cant believe it," she gasps, her eyes shining. "This is amazing. How did you even find us here? Did you go to our old house first? Burt, pull out a chair for him, he looks overwhelmed."

"Here, have a seat," Burt says, leading me to one of the kitchen chairs. "Can I get you anything? Do you still like iced tea? Carole, do we even have any iced tea?"

"Im fine, thank you," I assure them. Theyre both smiling so widely, staring like they cant see enough of me.

"You look good," Carole says finally. "Your scar healed nicely."

My fingers fly up to my scalp self-consciously. "It did, yes."

"When did you finally remember?" Burt asks eagerly. "Did it just come to you out of the blue? Did you wake up this morning and just know?"

"I, ah..."

"Let me get you something to eat," Carole says. "You still look a little woozy to me. Is your blood pressure low? Weve got chips around here somewhere..." She starts rummaging in the cabinets, and Burt gets up to help her search. "Augh, I just bought them on Thursday, where could I have put them?"

"I think Finn finished the bag on Friday night, while you were at the wedding," I supply. They both turn toward me slowly.

"You were here?" Burt asks. "On Friday?"

"Um... I was, yes."

"And Finn was..." Carole sighs in disbelief. Then she bellows, "Finn! Get in here, now!" far louder than Id have thought her capable.

Finn wanders into the kitchen after a minute, yawning and scratching the back of his head, where his hair is sticking up. "Geez, smatter, ma? I was sleeping..." His eyes widen when he spots the three of us sitting together. "Oh... hi, Blaine."

I give a sheepish little wave as Carole moves toward him. She folds her arms menacingly, and he cowers. Its kind of impressive, actually, considering Finn has a good foot and a half on her. "Something youd like to tell us, Finn?"

"Kurt made me promise not to say anything to you guys!" he says defensively. "He said that itd just get your hopes up, and—"

"How would it get our hopes up to know that Blaine got his memory back?"

"I havent," I interject, and the three of them swivel to look at me. "Gotten it back, I mean. A few little bits here and there, but not much."

Burt blinks. "You... but... then how did you find us?"

"I didnt. A couple of weeks ago, I met Kurt for the first time at the Lima Bean. Well, not the first time," I correct myself. "But you know what I mean. The first time for me. We got to talking, and we started meeting up every morning for coffee."

"Every morning?" Carole looks stunned. "For two weeks, and he never told us?"

"Explains why hes been coming into work later and later every day," Burt says under his breath. "And he didnt tell you? About your past and everything?"

"He did, eventually. Were still sort of figuring things out. Thats why Im here — Id really like to talk to him, if thats okay."

Carole and Burt glance at each other. "Kurts not here," Carole supplies. "He left. Maybe half an hour ago."

My heart sinks. "Oh."

"He had a rough night. Im not sure what was going on, but I dont think he ever went to sleep. I got up to use the bathroom around three in the morning, and his light was on. When I poked my head in, he was just sitting on his bed, staring at his cell phone."

I close my eyes briefly. "We had a bit of a misunderstanding. I... yeah. Do you know where he may have gone?" They both shake their heads.

"He doesnt have his cell turned on," Burt adds. "I tried calling shortly after he left, to ask if hed pick up some orange juice while he was out, but the call went straight to voicemail." He frowns. "Do you think we should be worried?"

"No, I... no." A nervous energy starts trickling through my veins, making my limbs feel restless. Its as though every part of my body is telling me one thing: Find Kurt. "Im going to look for him," I tell them. "If I give you my cell phone number, will you call me if he happens to come home while Im gone?"

"Of course." Carol hands me a pen, and roots around in a drawer until she finds a pad of green Post-Its. "Here, Ill write down our landline for you, in case you need to reach us."

"Thanks." I jot down my number on another Post-It and hand it to her, before standing up awkwardly. "I guess I should go."

Burt nods reluctantly; he looks as though hed rather I didnt leave. The three of them walk me to the door and watch me get into my car. I start the engine, before I realize I have no idea where to look.

Where does Kurt Hummel go, when he thinks hes lost everything?

The Lima Bean is packed with people eating lunch, but a quick scan of the coffee shop tells me that Kurt isnt here. I notice that the barista behind the counter is the same girl who was working the day I met Kurt. Bypassing the line of customers, I make my way to the counter, ignoring the glares it earns me. "Bethany," I call, and when she sees me, her eyes light up.

"Blaine!"

"Have you seen Kurt?"

She nods brightly. "Sure!"

"You have? When?"

"He was in here most of yesterday."

"What about today? Has he been here?"

"Oh, no, I havent seen him today," she says. "And Ive been here since we opened. Im sorry."

"Its okay. Thanks."

Dejected, I head out of the shop and back to my car. I put my key in the ignition, and cock my head when I notice the fuzzy crocodile dangling from it.

The traveling carnival is closing by the time I get to the fairgrounds. The rides are being hitched to the back of trailers, and the booths are being broken down and loaded into U-Hauls.

I wander around the grounds for nearly an hour. The same place that seemed so exciting and magical yesterday seems run-down and sad today. The carnival workers pay me no attention as they pack up their equipment. I pass the area that once housed the whack-a-mole booth, and notice a few of the crocodile keychains lying half-buried in the snow. For some reason, that sight depresses me more than anything.

I get back in the car and retrace our path from yesterday, heading for the rural outskirts of Lima. I can hear the toboggan sliding in my trunk on the turns, and hope its a good omen.

The sledding hill is deserted when I get there. I get out and climb up the slope anyway, looking for fresh footprints in the snow, but theres nothing. He hasnt been here, either.

As I trudge back down the hill, fear starts to bubble up inside me. What if he tried to hurt himself? Hes upset and exhausted... but surely he wouldnt do that to his family. Surely he would remember how hard it was for them last year when we were attacked, and—

I break into a run, jumping into the car and driving back into town. William McKinley High School is around here somewhere. I know it. I pull over briefly to type the name into my GPS, then follow the directions until I reach the high school. It looks so innocuous from the outside. Youd never know the sort of horror that we experienced that night in the east parking lot.

Wed left the school late after glee club rehearsal, Kurt told me. Wed been practicing a duet that we couldnt get quite right, so we stayed in the auditorium for another hour, running through our harmonies until we were satisfied. It meant that no one from glee was still around when we reached the parking lot. It meant that no one was there to hear our screams for help.

I park in the east lot, breathing deeply. His Navigator isnt here, but I get out of the car anyway, walking around the parking lot. I have no memory of this place at all. I have a feeling, from the haunted look on Kurts face when he told me about the attack, that in this case, my amnesia is a blessing.

For a while, I drive around aimlessly. I keep my cell phone on the passenger seat, hoping that the Hummels might call with news, but it stays stubbornly silent. I dont turn on the radio, and all I can hear is the gritty rattle of road salt under my tires, and the shifting of the toboggan in the trunk, and the slight rustling of Kurts bouquet in the back seat. I lift my head speculatively. His bouquet of roses...

I pull over to the side of the road, searching my brain. Kurt has mentioned his mother to me, many times. He told me about her funeral, about the quiet place where they laid her to rest. Think, I tell myself, but for the life of me I cant recall the name of the cemetery.

He wasnt raised religiously. I do remember him telling me that, during one of our rounds of Getting To Know You. Most of the cemeteries in the area are on church grounds, so that narrows down the options. I notice an older couple walking nearby, and I roll down my window.

"Excuse me, sir, maam," I call. "Im sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know of any non-denominational cemeteries in the area?"

The man blinks at me in confusion, but the woman speaks up right away. "Theres one on Edison Street, called Cedar Hills. And another one called... ah..." She looks at her companion. He just shrugs. "Something with Meadow, maybe."

"Tranquil Meadows!" I blurt out, in a flash of inspiration.

"Yes, that sounds right."

"Thank you so much."

They nod and continue on their way. I type the name into my GPS. Tranquil Meadows is nearly thirty minutes from here. Sighing, I pull a U-turn and drive west.

On the way to the cemetery, I practice what Ill say to Kurt when I find him. "Im so sorry I didnt call you last night. Believe me, I would have if Id been conscious..." No. "Kurt, I know you must be upset with me, but believe me, I have a good explanation. I drank too much last night and ended up passing out in the back seat of a taxi..." No. "Kurt, I wanted to call you, but my date kept ordering me more alcohol and squeezing my thigh, and..." God, no. What can I say that will make things right?

"Kurt, I dont really remember you. But Im in love with you anyway." Not perfect, but its as close as Im going to get.

I reach the cemetery just after five oclock. The sun is starting to set, so I get out of the car quickly, scanning the rows of headstones in the fading light. Theres not a sound but the crunch of my boots as I plod through the snow, looking for a glimpse of Kurt among the sea of white. There are fresh-looking footprints several rows over, and I head over toward them, following them curiously. They lead me deeper into the cemetery, past a tall tree, and stop in front of a black headstone. My breath catches in my throat.

Elizabeth A. Hummel, devoted wife and mother.

Hes been here.

I spin around, searching wildly, but hes nowhere in sight. I follow his footprints back from where they originated, and find myself back on the street where I parked. Hes gone. Hes gone, and Im out of ideas.

I reach into my back seat, pulling out the bouquet of red and yellow roses and retracing our steps to Mrs. Hummels grave. The flowers look beautiful, nestled up against her headstone.

Its dark when I pull back into the Hummels driveway. Theres no sign of Kurts car, and they havent called my cell phone, so I know he hasnt come home. But I dont know where else to go.

Carole answers the door and shakes her head when I look at her hopefully. She guides me into the kitchen, where Burt and Finn are sitting at the table, eating dinner. Theres a fourth place setting that Im sure was meant for Kurt, but Carole is coaxing me down onto a chair as Burt transfers a big square of lasagna onto a plate for me. Finn passes me a basket of garlic bread. Suddenly Im feeling absolutely ravenous. I havent eaten anything all day, and the lasagna smells delicious. I shovel it down, taking big bites of garlic bread between forkfuls. Carole pours me a glass of milk, and Finn starts talking about the Bobcats chances this season, and its only when I feel Burts hand on my back that I realize Im crying.

No one says anything. I pull my napkin off the table and press it against my face, embarrassed to be falling to pieces in front of strangers.

"I never cry," I tell them.

"Hell come back to you," Burt murmurs, and I push harder against my eyelids. "Its what you two do. You come back to each other."

I stay at the Hummels house for hours, alternating between watching basketball with Finn and watching the front door with Burt. For a while, I keep trying Kurts cell phone, until Finn notices and tells me that he saw it lying on Kurts bed.

By ten oclock, all three of them are starting to yawn. I remember my manners, and despite Caroles offer to make up the sofa bed for me, I tell them I need to go. Burt gives me another one of his bone-crushing hugs, promising to call me when Kurt gets home. This time, I squeeze him back just as tightly.

Ill come back tomorrow, I decide on the drive to Robs apartment. Ill come back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. I wont give up on him. And I wont let him give up on me.

Snow is starting to fall again by the time I reach the apartment complex. I park and head into the building, running my thumb over my cell phone, still willing it to ring.

It doesnt.

I trudge down the hall and into Robs apartment, tossing my keys onto the table by the door. Im so mentally and physically exhausted that I dont notice that my keys land beside another set. I dont notice the glass of water on the coffee table, and I dont notice that the couch cushions have been replaced. Its only when Im hanging my coat on the row of wall hooks and see a familiar-looking pea coat that I look up in surprise, and find a pair of familiar blue eyes watching me warily.