Blaine sat in the Listening Room, his backpack digging into his thigh. He had heard Puck coming up the stairs and grabbed his backpack, tiptoeing into his great grandfather's den and into the Listening Room to hide. He had forgotten this room was here, made by his ancestors at the time of the tunnel.

Listening Rooms were common during the Civil War era. He had found it about the same time he'd found the escape tunnel and by the same means: Nathaniel Anderson's journal. Unfortunately, the room was very small and dark and had no other exit. Blaine could feel it closing in on him, shrinking small and his fear growing in size to devour him. He took a deep breath, trying to stem the panic until they left. Lying down as close to the floor as possible, he pulled the panel up a tiny bit to let in light and air, shoving his nose close to the slit until he heard them leave.

Back at the Hummel house, they sat around the table once more, Kurt dialing Blaine's number, but now the phone was off. He sighed. Lauren's uncle and father had no good news, nobody had heard from or seen Blaine, and they were all depressed and out of ideas. Kurt just wanted to go to sleep, to lay in the bed and inhale the pillow that smelled like Blaine, to forget his worry and his anguish. And try not to blame this all on Cooper.

Kurt didn't need to blame Cooper, Coop was doing enough of that himself. If only he could have taken it slower, if only he had waited until one shock was absorbed before delivering the next one, if only.... He was feeling worthless and guilty.

“I think it might be best if I leave. I'm going to stay in Columbus for a week, then go back to New York for a while. Blaine might come back if he knows I'm not here,” Coop said. Nobody argued. Kurt started to say something, knowing Coop would feel terrible if he left, but Kurt just didn't have the strength to do it.

It was Santana that saw Kurt was at the end of his rope and took him by the hand, guiding him downstairs. Finn made a move to help, but she waved him back and he let her do it. He took his mom upstairs with Burt and settled her in bed. She was almost as devastated as Kurt, her maternal instinct goading her to new levels of guilt and worry. Burt sat with her, holding her hand for a while, then climbing into bed and gathering her close, stroking her face until she fell asleep.

Finn came back downstairs to talk to Puck and Lauren, making plans to search the little towns to the south of Lima in the morning. Finally, Finn left a note and went home with Puck and Lauren to Puck's house.

Down in the bedroom in the basement, Santana sat with Kurt, holding his hand. He didn't say a word and Tana wasn't the kind to wring it out of him. She asked if she could do anything, but he just shook his head, sitting still on the edge of the bed. She took pity on him and removed his clothes, for once not saying anything off-color or sexual as she folded his jeans and hung up his shirt, taking off his undershirt and jewelry, and finally his boxers. She guided him into the shower, removing her own things and helping him into the spray of water, washing his hair and body. There was nothing sexual or erotic about it, just a calming thing as Tana finished with the soap and rinsed him, then herself, toweling them dry. She borrowed a pair of Blaine's pajamas, got Kurt into his, and led him to bed. He never said one word the whole time.

“I can leave, I can go to sleep in the other bed, or I can stay here with you, Kurt. What do you need from me?” she asked and Kurt held out his arms, like a small child asking permission for his mama to pick him up. She drew back the blankets and sheet, waiting for him to get in bed before climbing in next to him and laying in the position of the big spoon, kissing his temple and carding her fingers through his hair until he sighed in a small amount of contentment. He knew she understood, and he was so grateful for it. After a while they shifted position and Kurt's cheek was cushioned on Santana's breast. He might have been uncomfortable with that, but it felt like his mama and she smelled like Blaine since she was wearing his pajamas, and he fell asleep knowing she would watch out for him in the night.

At about two in the morning, Kurt awoke with a start, and reached to gather Blaine closer to him, but all he found was Santana, and although he was grateful that she was there with him, he cried because she wasn't Blaine. He had failed Blaine and now he wondered if he would get him back.

Things only spiraled into a deeper depression with Kurt. He went to school, doing his lessons and interacting with his friends a little, but the veil of sadness was getting worse. He had attached himself to Santana, who looked out for him at school and often slept with him at night, holding him as he cried. Some nights Puck or Lauren or Finn stayed with Kurt, all of them scared he might do something stupid.

Kurt had never done anything to harm himself, no cutting or eating problems, no drug or pot abuse, no alcohol. The depths of depression were evident in him, and nobody was fooled into thinking it would get any better unless Blaine came home.

Their friends had put together flyers and distributed them all over the county, but there was never any response. A week turned into a month, which turned into two months. April came with flowers budding and warm showers that washed the air clean. Renewed hope came to the world as it did every spring, but it didn't come to Kurt, and his melancholy didn't change. Cooper had moved back to New York, the hurt and despair of losing Blaine once again was too much. He still called several times a week, he offered a huge reward to anyone passing along information as to Blaine's whereabouts, but there was nothing.

At the Anderson mansion, Blaine was playing the piano. He was burying himself in the music, enjoying the only thing he ever enjoyed anymore. He was lonely, but he was used to being alone. With the noted exception of the year he spent with Kurt, he had spent his teen years alone. The nights were so bad...he missed Kurt so much that he cried every night, it hurt so much it was a physical pain. But he couldn't go back. He loved him too much to put him in danger once again. When Blaine closed his eyes at night, the vision of Kurt's bruised face swam in front of his eyes.

Blaine left out of the tunnel and walked to the grocery store down the road. He was afraid at first that someone might recognize him, but he finally lost the fear after he'd done it so many times. He looked in a mirror one morning and he could tell from the beard he had grown and the long hair that he didn't look like himself.

For the most part, the mansion was quiet. He could hear Puck when he came to walk through the house and he hid in the Listening Room until Puck left. Puck had started by coming several times a week, but now only once, on Saturday mornings. He was easy to avoid.

“Want to come with me to walk through the Anderson Place?” Puck asked Kurt, hoping to get him to do something like leave the house on Saturday morning.

To Puck's surprise, Kurt agreed. He wasn't anxious to go anywhere but the thought that he might hold the viola in his hands...that might make him feel better. So, he got dressed and met Puck for the drive out to the mansion.

Pulling up in front of the mansion, he was brought back to the day he first came here, helping Puck mow the grass and finding the little pigeon caught in the roses and sporting a message. Maybe this was a mistake. It was that scrap of fabric, with the words scrawled in blood that took him to Blaine and his life was turned upside down. He thought about just waiting in the truck now, but it was cold and he wanted to feel the wood of the viola under his fingers.

Puck opened the door, punching the buttons to deactivate the alarm before walking into the kitchen. Kurt smelled something...bacon? It wasn't a strong smell, it was very faint.

“Puck, you're the only one that comes here, aren't you?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, well, Cooper sometimes, but he hasn't been here in over a month. I walk through on Saturday mornings, but otherwise it's empty. Why?”

“I smell bacon. Did you cook anything here?” he asked.

“No, I never do. Plus, I keep kosher since I live with Grandma Sofia, so no pork. I bring a lunch sometimes, but mostly I just get a sandwich or something at the diner down the road before I leave for Lima. Hey, I do smell the bacon, though...” Puck began to sniff around, looking in the kitchen, but there wasn't a dish out of place.

Except a plate in the sink, rinsed but not washed and a fork sitting beside it.

“He's here, Puck. I know it,” Kurt's eyes lit up.

“Be quiet, Kurt. If he's been hiding all this time, then he'll run if he hears us. Now, he probably knows we're here, but we'll act like we don't know and trap him,” Puck whispered. They walked through the house as though they were just looking, but not expecting much. Kurt heard something, but just nudged Puck, who obviously heard it, too. They walked up the stairs to the second floor, past Blaine's bedroom.

Blaine had heard Puck's truck arrive like it did every Saturday, but Blaine had forgotten what day it was. He was sick. What started as a cold had gone into a full respiratory infection and the cold air in the mansion made it worse. He'd spent the last few nights wrapped in extra blankets coughing and wheezing. Last night had been the worst, his chest hurt, his eyes were sore, his throat was raw. On top of that, he'd had the worst nightmare since being in the house. It involved his grandfather and the day they had dragged him into the attic room, his grandmother hitting him as they screamed at him to get in there, then hearing the door latch lock behind him. He woke up in a sweat, screaming and crying and too tired to stay awake, so the nightmare came back. This time it was Kurt, beaten and sitting broken and bleeding, all of it being Blaine's fault.

He heard Puck and knew he had to get into the Listening Room to hide. He made it down the hall and fell trying to get in before Puck opened the door. He scrambled into the tiny space, quickly falling back asleep as he waited for Puck to leave.

“This was his great grandfather's room, Puck. We sat here in front of the fire that last day. Oh, Noah, I'd give anything if I could just have one more day with Blaine. Oh, my stars I miss him,” Kurt went over to the chesterfield and sat down. He closed his eyes and let his memory take over.

“I'll just do the tour upstairs, Kurt, you can wait here and I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll take you to breakfast, okay?”

“Sure, Puck, thanks,” Kurt mumbled as Puck left the room.

Sitting there, he turned his thoughts to Blaine and the days they had together. He still didn't understand why he'd left and Kurt blamed himself, he blamed Cooper, he blamed the world. He thought about what he might have done differently, but he couldn't think of anything specific.

Blaine was in the Listening Room with the walls coming down on him, closer and closer and Blaine held his breath, dozing off from time to time. He wanted to crack open the panel, this room was too small, but he couldn't. It was hot and close...Blaine closed his eyes and started to drowse again. He jerked up in a panic, his illness-induced sleep filling his head with nightmares and he screamed.

“Blaine!!! Puck, it's Blaine!!!!” Kurt shouted, running into the hallway to find him, scared it was just imagination, but still hearing the screams. It was farther away from here, so he went back in, Puck coming in behind him and looking around as he heard Blaine's screaming get louder.

“Blaine! Blaine! Where are you? I'm here, baby, tell me where you are!!” Kurt was shouting, shaking with the anxiety of it, aching to feel Blaine's skin under his hands, hurting to touch him once again. Blaine's screams went on and on as Puck went out to another room and came back in, puzzled as to why it was loudest in here. The panel in the library upstairs made it's way into Puck's brain and he realized there must be one here, too.

“Look at the walls, Kurt, it must be another hidden place. Look to see what doesn't fit...”

The two moved to the wall where they could hear Blaine the loudest and began a detailed inspection, Kurt finding the panel first. They tried to open it, grasping at the edges and making their fingers bleed as they gouged at the oak boards.

“Blaine, help me, help me find you, baby...BLAINE!” Kurt yelled in desperation and finally, a slit began to show under a panel and Puck stuck his fingers under it, lifting as it revealed the tiny room and the boy inside. Kurt launched himself at Blaine, dragging him out of the tiny space as he screamed, completely hysterical. But it was Puck's strong arms that held Blaine, motioning Kurt to sit on the chesterfield as he laid Blaine down, his head in Kurt's lap as Kurt carded his fingers through Blaine's hair, kissing his face and telling him to wake up, it was only a dream.

It was like walking through clouds, his sense of reality skewed and Kurt's strong fingers holding his tightly, Puck's arms holding him safe, before Blaine would open his eyes. He was burning with fever, dry with dehydration, and almost hallucinating when they put him in the truck, Kurt's arms holding him, Kurt's lips kissing him as he was taken to the hospital where Carole met them, taking Blaine into a room to insert an IV. After the hellish two months living almost alone once again, Blaine wasn't letting go of Kurt. He wouldn't answer any questions, refused to speak at all, just held on to Kurt as he waited to see what would happen to him.

“Blaine, what happened? I don't understand, why did you leave me? What did I do? Please tell me, Blaine, so I never do it again. Please?”

But Blaine just lay there, holding on and knowing he would now be locked in one of those hospitals for the insane, where he would never be able to see Kurt again. He was terrified.

“He has pneumonia, but he'll recover just fine. We can take him home in a few days, as soon as he's rehydrated and his fever is down,” Carole told Burt and Kurt as they waited outside the room. Finn got up and walked towards Kurt, throwing an arm over his brother's shoulders and smiling.

“See, I knew it would be okay, Dude. You never lost hope and now he's back. I hope he can tell us why he did it, though. I thought he was happy with our family,” Finn spoke.

“I don't know, Finn. He doesn't seem able to tell me, he's hardly said two words. I'm worried it's about those bruises he gave me, I'm glad they're gone now, maybe he can forget them, too.”

Blaine was released after a few extra days to see his therapist. Burt came to take him home later, Kurt and Finn were at school, Carole was at her classes, and Burt thought it might be easier for Blaine to come home to a quiet house.

“You okay, kid?” Burt asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yes, sir, Burt.” he answered. Burt didn't have the heart to correct him this time.

“Kurt is excited to have you home. You do consider it your home, don't you?” Burt asked.

“Yeah, I do. I won't go back to the mansion. I won't leave again, now I've seen what it did to Kurt,” Blaine told him.

“Can I ask..what made you do it? Why did you leave?” Burt wanted to know. He'd been coached by Carole not to upset the boy, but some things were more important, and Burt figured he better ask what was wrong now or he'd never find out once Kurt and the rest were coddling the boy.

“I was afraid. I hurt Kurt and I was scared I might do it again. I was also afraid that they would lock me up in some crazy hospital. I couldn't take that,” Blaine said.

“But you locked yourself up in a mansion. Just because the walls were prettier doesn't make it less like a prison, albeit one of your own making. You're stronger than you think, Blaine.”

“What's to stop it from happening again?” Blaine asked.

“They are giving you new pills, plus there are other medications we can try. It was probably the meeting with your mother that triggered it all. You won't be forced into that again. You don't have to see her, but you know Cooper misses you. He feels like you've been taken away once again, Blaine, and I don't think it's fair to him. I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but you caused a lot of heartache with your actions,” Burt told him. Carole and Kurt had begged him to be easy on Blaine, but Burt had called Sophia and talked it over with her. She advised him to be straight forward with Blaine, not brutal, but honest.

“I didn't think of that. I was only focused on what a danger I had become to Kurt, I was afraid of what could happen if someday Finn wasn't there to stop me, if Carole wasn't there to give me a sedative. I'm still afraid,” Blaine confessed, relieved that Burt was being real with him.

“I can't answer that. They did give you new medications and they will help with the PTSD. Kurt knows what can happen and he has chosen to stay with you, Blaine, he loves you but he's not wearing rose colored glasses. He was not being safe and he paid the price of that. But life has no guarantees, and I think Kurt is intelligent enough, not to mention courageous enough, to stand by you. Let him. I've seen first hand what happens when he loses you, Blaine, and a black eye isn't as bad as the pain I saw on his face when he thought he'd lost you,” Burt said.

Blaine just sat there, his head dropped to his chest, letting the hurt roll over him at the thought of what he had caused. Not just to Kurt and Cooper, but to everyone else from Burt and Carole to Puck and Santana. He didn't know how to proceed, it was too much.

“I'm going to go down to the bedroom and take a nap,” Blaine said.

“Blaine, if you're actually tired, then by all means do that. But, if you are running away from your feelings, afraid or ashamed or confused or whatever – don't. I'm going in to fix some lunch and then sit and watch a game, the football game is starting in a while. You can keep me company and that might be better than hiding in your room,” Burt said, looking at Blaine with those eyes that he used to tell Kurt when he messed up.

“I'll call Cooper, then I'll come help cook some lunch, if that's okay. I'll watch the game with you until Kurt gets home from class.” Blaine smiled at Burt, thankful this man was in his life and that he cared about him.

After dinner that evening, Blaine took Kurt's hand as they walked downstairs. He sat on the bed, not sure for a moment what to say, but when he laid his head on the pillow he smelled something that was not Kurt. It smelled like another person and he picked up the pillow to sniff at it a little more, cold shivers running down his spine as it registered to him that this was someone's scent...in Kurt's bed, and it wasn't him. It smelled a bit familiar, but he couldn't place it. Did he have the right to question Kurt when he'd been the one to run away? He sighed.

“What's wrong, Blaine?” Kurt asked, getting into bed in his signature silk pajamas.

Blaine took one more sniff and put the pillow down. He didn't say anything, just avoided eye contact. Kurt looked at the pillow with curiosity and picked it up, bringing it to his nose and taking a sniff. His eyes got wide for a moment and he set it down, taking Blaine into his arms.

“You noticed someone was here with me,” Kurt said, a statement rather than a question. Blaine looked back at Kurt, thinking he had no right to know who it was. He was the one that had left for two months, after all. He thought he could hear the crack in his heart as it broke.

“Blaine, there was somebody in my bed, someone I got comfort from when I thought I'd lost you. It was two fucking months, Blaine. I didn't want to live.” Kurt said in desperation.

Blaine looked away. He didn't think he had any right to even ask who it was.

“Blaine, look at me. I did not have a lover here. I only love you. But I was so lost without you, Santana stayed with me most of the nights you were gone. Brittany, too. They held me and cried with me and kept my hope alive. Some days Puck or Lauren came, even Finn stayed with me a few times. They thought I might harm myself, Blaine. I couldn't assure them I wouldn't, so they kept vigil,” Kurt whispered into Blaine's hair as he held him close to his chest.

“I'm sorry, Kurt. If it makes any difference, I was just as lost. I was scared to come back even though I wanted to an hour after I left. I didn't want to hurt you again, Kurt. I'm still scared it might happen again, but I'm powerless to stay away. Just promise me you won't put yourself in danger again, okay? If I'm having a bad spell, then call someone, get out of the room. “Promise me?” Blaine begged.

“Okay, baby. I will. We'll get through this together.”

“Okay.”

Blaine got ready for bed, wanting to get into the smaller bed in the corner to keep Kurt safer, but his heart wouldn't let him. He looked at Kurt's eyes, liquid blue pools of some dark shade and he just had to cuddle close to him. They hadn't been allowed to in the hospital due to Blaine having pneumonia, so this would be the first time in months for them to begin to mend.

“C'mere,” Kurt invited and Blaine crawled under the blankets, pasting himself to Kurt. He wasn't sure if it was okay to take off Kurt's pajamas, to take off his own and get even closer – sharing the warm skin and hot kisses they had shared so many times before. Kurt was of the same mind as they laid together, barely touching, afraid to even breathe hard. They fell asleep just touching fingertips, each with the other's name on their lips.

Several hours of sleep later, it was only nine in the evening. Kurt woke a little, reaching out for Santana. He tried to drag her back to snuggle into his chest, but she resisted. He thought of and dismissed the idea quickly as he stroked her face to waken her completely. It was probably for the best, while she was a good friend and kept him sane most days, any thing that made Blaine less real was a bad thing in Kurt's and Santana's world. They would cuddle or just be there in the same space, both missing Blaine, and it was okay for her to stroke his back. However, there was a line drawn and neither of them ever thought of crossing it. But, wait...this wasn't Santana. Kurt opened his eyes and realized this was Blaine. Oh, yes, Blaine was back, his Blaine. Back in his arms. So he snuggled closer, kissing Blaine's neck, down to his collarbone and back, reveling in the touch, the scent, the feel of having Blaine back. Kurt felt like he had died and gone to heaven because his Blaine, his baby, was back in his arms. He wanted to shout, to scream, to sing, but instead he just kissed Blaine's neck and face until he saw those golden hazel eyes open and the recognition spread to the rest of Blaine's body, bringing him into focus as never before.

“Kurt.....” Blaine whispered softly, knowing he was truly in heaven now because he never needed anything but Kurt to make each moment the best it could be. He began to unbutton Kurt's pajama shirt, doing it for the first time without permission, but thinking this time it might be okay. It didn't take more than a few minutes and both of them were naked and struggling to occupy the same space in time. “Kurt, I...I need you, Kurt. I have to have you, right now...please, Kurt, please,” Blaine was outright begging.

“Yes, Blaine, I'm here, I need you just as much. I do. I thought I'd lost you and here you are...I love you, Blaine. Don't ever scare me like that again. Please don't leave me again, baby...” Kurt stopped begging long enough to kiss Blaine once more before he touched him, and Blaine touched Kurt, and they fell together, rolling under the covers and kissing, holding, yearning for each other. It was lightning and heat and touching and grinding, both so desperate to prove their love to the other. Blaine reached for the lube, trembling with his need to take Kurt, but there was no tube of lubricant in the bedside table. He turned on the small lamp to see if he'd missed it in the drawer. He looked over at Kurt, who dug into the drawer to bring out what looked like a tub of margarine. Blaine stared at it.

“Ah, Kurt...not to kill the mood or anything, but why do you have a tub of margarine in your bedside drawer? Were you...short of cash?” Blaine asked.

“No. It isn't margarine. Look at the label,” Kurt said, smirking. Blaine looked at Kurt, a tiny bit upset at having their intimate moment basically ruined. He looked at the label and a smile started across his face. There on the yellow and blue label was the drawing of a muscle-bound arm churning butter. Blaine's eyes got wide.

“Where in hell did you get this?” he asked, trying not to laugh.

“You can get anything on line, Blaine. Anything. And it comes to your house in a plain brown wrapper,” Kurt smiled.

“Kurt. This is....'Boy Butter'? Oh, my goodness. Really? 'Boy Butter'??” Blaine was now laughing so hard he'd lost his erection, well, a little anyway.

“Hey, I researched this! It was a surprise for you and I had been waiting for the right time. Don't laugh, it is supposed to be great stuff...part silicone, part coconut oil, homogenized to make it smoother...and it also comes in “Fresca” which is cool and tingly and in a warming formula. We can try those if we get adventurous one day....” Kurt was a wealth of information when he was embarrassed. He would have kept talking, but Blaine shut out the light and dragged him under the sheets, tub of Boy Butter in tow.

It only took a moment before Blaine had Kurt spread out in front of him, a scoop of Boy Butter in his fingers, rubbing it to get it warm before applying it to Kurt's most intimate places. A guttural moan escaped Kurt's lips and Blaine barely touched him, smoothing the slick substance around the tight muscle and started gently rubbing and swirling his fingers. They had used various lubricants before, but they had been drugstore purchases and while they were adequate, the difference between K-Y jelly and Boy Butter was an ocean apart. Blaine's fingers slid through the lube, caressing and teasing before he applied a bit more and his finger found it's way inside to move in a dancing rhythm in and out, causing Kurt to groan and stutter, taken away by the new possibilities.

Blaine was no longer in a hurry. He was intent on making this last, bringing Kurt to the edge and back time after time before he would give in to thrusting himself inside. He used a little more, this time on his other hand as he slicked it up Kurt's cock. Oh, the slide this produced had Kurt hard as a brass rod, babbling nonsense as Blaine stroked him and pumped him at the same time.

“Stop, baby...please stop,” Kurt finally said, reaching out to hold Blaine's hands still. One breath across his skin and he knew it would be all over, so he sat very still, holding Blaine's hands tightly while he calmed his breathing...

After a few moments, Kurt leaned forward, very softly placing his lips on Blaine's. They stayed that way, just exchanging gentle, tender kisses for what seemed like eternity and finally lay back in each other's arms. Kurt moved first, still very aware that the wrong move would send him onto orbit. He dug a bit of the Boy Butter out of the tub, spreading it on his fingers and reaching between Blaine's legs to stroke it across his entrance. Blaine moaned a bit, feeling what Kurt had been feeling and wondering how it could feel so different than what they normally used. Kurt knew how if felt, so he continued with the rhythmic application, adding some to his other hand in the way Blaine had, sharing the excitement and watching Blaine's face as he fell apart. Blaine turned Kurt over, kissing down his spine and reaching forward to take his boyfriend's cock in his hand as he entered and felt the slick lube as he pushed forward with no resistance, the smoothness making every tiny feeling a magnification of anything he had felt before. He was beyond calculated thought now, depending on muscle memory and instinct to guide him as he made love to Kurt, sliding and pushing, thrusting and moaning until the insistent rubbing of his cock on Kurt's prostate sparked the end and they came, thinking of fireworks and TNT and atomic bombs for an amazing moment, then of how it felt to be so close, to feel the other as if they were inside each other, experiencing this as if they had traded places somehow.

They shuffled and squirmed until they were comfortable, rolled around each other, amber connecting to ocean as they gazed deep in each others' eyes and knowing this was it, this was what they wanted. Kurt's arms tightened, holding Blaine so there was no space between them, chest to chest so that they could feel the heartbeat of the other through their skin.

“Kurt, I don't ever want to be apart again. Don't let me be so stupid, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry I worried you, that I made you doubt me – that you thought I doubted you. Help me be who I want to be, the person that deserves you. Please, Kurt,” Blaine whispered.

“Only if you help me to be the same, baby. I want to be right for you, I want to understand you and be there for you even when the nightmares come. I want to save you, Blaine, so you can save me. I want to be together for the rest of our lives,” Kurt whispered back.

They fell asleep, not aware of the other people in the house, who were all a bit embarrassed because they had heard the two boys making love, shouting each others' names and moaning so loudly it was no secret what they were doing.

Even Burt, who was probably the most embarrassed by the lustful noises assaulting the ears of everyone, just turned up the volume on the television and didn't say a word.