The silence isn't so bad,
'Til I look at my hands and feel sad,
'Cause the spaces between my fingers
Are right where yours fit perfectly.
...

And I'll forget the world that I knew,
But I swear I won't forget you,
Oh, if my voice could reach
Back through the past,
I'd whisper in your ear,
Oh, darling, I wish you were here.

Chapter 36:

"Dad," Kurt said, once Burt had picked up the phone.

"Hey, Kurt," Burt said, happily. "How's it going?"

"Fine," he said. "Where is he?"

Burt sighed. "In your room."

"Does he ever come out?"

Every time Kurt called, Burt told him Blaine was in his room. He refused to speak to him, never picked up the phone and Kurt hadn't heard a word from him since he had left two weeks earlier.

"When he gets hungry," Burt said. "And when he goes to work."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Can't you trick him out? Make him think someone else is on the phone and then he'll be forced to talk to me?"

"Kurt," Burt said in a warning tone.

"Please, dad?" Kurt begged. "I just need to know he's okay."

"He's fine, I told you," Burt assured him. "Stop worrying."

"Just try for me," Kurt urged. "It's important."

Kurt had tried texting Blaine, telling him needed desperately to speak with him, but it was like Blaine knew. He'd gotten no reply.

"Fine," Burt sighed, tiredly, then shouted. "Blaine! Phone!"

A few minutes later, Kurt heard Blaine's muffled voice on the other end.

"I know it's him," he said. "I won't talk to him."

"Dad, put me on loud speaker."

Burt put him on loud speaker and Kurt suddenly felt nervous, but he had to talk to Blaine. He needed to.

"You asshole," were the first words he said. "Do you know what date it is?"

"I'll just leave you guys alone," Burt said, quietly and Kurt heard a shuffling sound, then a door closing. Now it was just him and Blaine.

"I know what date it is," Blaine said, flatly. It was good to hear his voice again. "Which is why I'm hanging up and going back downstairs."

"Don't you dare!" Kurt said, quickly. "I've been calling you every single day since I left."

"And I told you I wasn't going to pick up."

"You said you'd pick up if I said I needed you," Kurt pointed out.

"Yeah, but I knew why you needed to talk to me so badly today," Blaine shot back. "And I don't want to talk to you."

"You're being ridiculous," Kurt told him.

"Maybe," he mumbled. "But it's better this way."

There was complete silence for a few seconds, then Kurt spoke, "It doesn't feel like a year, does it?"

"Yes and no," Blaine said, quietly. "I feel like I just met you yesterday, but sometimes I feel like I've known you forever."

Kurt smiled, sadly. He had missed this, the way Blaine spoke, the things he said that Kurt never expected to hear him say. He wished he wouldn't shut him out, wished he would give in and talk to him again.

"Talk to me for today?" Kurt asked. "In celebration of us knowing each other a whole year?"

"I don't thi—"

"Please, Blaine?" Kurt said. "Please pick up the phone."

There was silence again, then Kurt heard more shuffling, a loud bleeping sound, followed by the faint sound of breathing.

"I'm listening."

"I miss you."

"Don't say that," Blaine said.

Kurt sat back on his bed with a sigh. "Why not?" he asked. "It's true."

"What's it like out there?" Blaine asked, as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. "I mean, are you getting on okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, forgetting that Blaine couldn't see him. "It's different to high school, obviously, but I'm doing okay. What about you?"

"I'm fine."

"Really."

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Look, after this, can you just not call me any more? I know that sounds horrible, but I can't—Kurt, I just can't, okay?"

Kurt realised it was the first time he had said his name, the word sounding so different coming from his lips, to how it sounded when others said it.

"I'm hurting, too, you know," Kurt said, quietly. "I know you think this is all about you, Blaine and I know you're going through a lot, but this is far from easy for me. So, stop acting like you're the only one affected by this."

Blaine was quiet, then said, "I'm sorry." Kurt said nothing, hoping he would go on. "I just think we're better off like this," he told Kurt. "I just don't think it's a good idea to hold on to something that just—just doesn't mean anything any more."

Kurt felt his heart breaking into tiny pieces inside his chest. He was caught between wanting to bury his head in his pillows and sob and wanting to pick up the ugly lamp that he kept meaning to get rid of, which had been left in the apartment and flinging it at the wall.

"Doesn't mean any.. Okay," he said. "Okay, fine, Blaine. Fuck you, too."

And then he hung up.

And instantly regretted it.

1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: KURT.

I'm sorry. Don't shut me out, not today.

Blaine groaned and threw his phone to the side, then grabbed a pillow and put it over his face. It was useless, it smelled like Kurt. Every where he looked, it reminded him of Kurt and all he wanted to do at this point was forget, because even though that was awful and a really stupid thing to do, it would be much easier.

He wished he could just go back to the beginning and change everything, because his entire life seemed to have fallen down around him and there was no fixing that, even if it had all been consequences of him doing the right thing.

The fact was that doing the right thing sucked sometimes.

Kurt didn't hear from Blaine until a week before Christmas (technically untrue, because he had gotten a simple 'Happy Birthday' on his birthday, but nothing more than that), though it wasn't for the want of trying. Kurt had called him almost every day, to no avail. His heart leapt inside his chest when he saw Blaine's name showing up on his phone with 'incoming call' above it.

"Blaine," he said, a little too eagerly, but he didn't care, Blaine was calling.

"Don't," Blaine said, quietly. "I just want to know if you're coming home for winter break, so that I can make arrangements to be some place else."

Kurt's heart sank and he frowned. "Are you serious?"

He had been counting on winter break as a means of getting Blaine to speak to him. He had planned it out in his mind. If Blaine saw him face to face, maybe he would change his mind, realise he still loved him. Apparently that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Yes," was all Blaine said.

"I.." Kurt paused. "I'll stay here."

"Don't stay there because of me."

"I'm not." He was.

"Okay," Blaine said, obviously not wanting to have to talk to Kurt any longer than was necessary. He paused and Kurt wondered if he had hung up, but he hadn't. "Are you... How have you, um, been?"

"Okay," Kurt said, calmly, ignoring the urge to shout at him for not speaking to him for months. "I.. You? Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"Blaine—"

"Don't," Blaine said, sounding weary. Kurt wondered if he was getting enough sleep.

Kurt didn't want to get mad and have Blaine hang up on him, because it was possible he would wait another three months to speak to him again and that was the last thing he needed.

"There was a time when you loved me, you know," Kurt uttered.

He heard Blaine sigh and he knew he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just hung up.

Ten minutes later, Kurt's phone vibrated on the coffee table.

1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: BLAINE.

I still do.

"Blaine!"

Blaine sat up and rubbed his eyes. He shuffled off of Kurt's bed and climbed the stairs, like they were some huge obstacle that he could barely manage. When he reached the top, he found Burt standing there.

"Hey, kid," he said. "Dinner."

Blaine gave him a half-smile. He felt awful being such a burden on Burt, who was supposed to be enjoying his alone time. He had offered to pay rent, but Burt wouldn't allow it. He said he was happy to do it. It amazed Blaine that there were people like this in the world, good people who expected nothing in return for their kindness. The world needed far more Burt Hummels.

They sat down at the table and began eating and Burt was watching him carefully.

"So, Blaine," he said after a while. "Have you heard from Kurt?"

"No."

"He said he called you."

"He did," Blaine affirmed. "A few times." A couple hundred, at least. "I just—I can't..."

"No, I understand," Burt said, taking a sip from his glass of water. "I just don't think you're doing yourself any favours not talkin' to him."

Blaine didn't say anything, just moved his peas around his plate with his fork.

"Have you spoken to your parents?"

Blaine looked up at that. "No," he said, truthfully. "I haven't heard from them."

"Don't you think you should contact them? Let them know you're okay?" Burt asked. "I bet they're worried about you."

"You think.. No," Blaine shook his head. "No, if they were worried they would have found me by now."

"Sometimes people are too stubborn to go looking," Burt shrugged. "Maybe you should put your own stubbornness aside and work things out."

Blaine stared down at his mashed potato and had a strong feeling that Burt wasn't only referring to the situation with his parents.

"Kurt, put the phone down," Rachel said, walking into his apartment.

Kurt looked up at her and frowned at her for coming in unannounced and then for how she was dressed. Her white sweater had a pink deer silhouette on it and he looked away before he could analyse her lower half.

"Where's Finn?"

"Upstairs," she said, sitting down. She grabbed a magazine off the table and flicked through it. "He's in the shower."

Kurt nodded and hit the green button on his phone again, redialling Blaine's number.

"He won't pick up, you know."

"Shut up, Rachel."

"Don't take it out on me!"

"I can if I like, you're in my apartment," Kurt retorted.

Rachel smiled. "You're too uptight," she said. "Go out and find a nice boy who'll answer your calls, Kurt."

He wondered at what point he was going to have to give up and do just that. Kurt rolled his eyes and redialled.

He wasn't giving up on him, not yet.

Blaine hung up his Lima Bean apron and said goodbye to the girl who had just started her shift (Blaine thought her name might be Sandra, but he wasn't certain). He pulled the front door opened and walked out into the brisk January air. He pulled his jacket across his chest and shivered, before turning to walk towards his car, but something stopped him in his tracks.

Blaine watched as his dad stopped his car across the parking lot, then turned to the person next to him, said something, then got out of the car. Blaine walked quickly away from the coffee shop, so that his dad couldn't see him and watched as he went inside the Lima Bean. Blaine looked over at his dad's car, hoping to see his mom sitting there, but he knew in his heart that it was going to be someone else, of the female sex and probably someone he did not know. He was right. The woman sitting in the passenger's seat was younger than his mom, maybe late twenties, early thirties. She had red hair and beyond that, Blaine couldn't see much more. He felt his blood boiling, because although he had been aware for a long time that his dad was sleeping around, he had never actually seen it firsthand. He wanted to run inside and scream at his dad, tell him to go home to his wife, but Blaine figured he would get fired and his job was the only thing that really got him out of the house any more. Instead, he clenched his fists, bit his tongue and went to his car. He got inside and drove back to Kurt's house.

When he got there, he found a note on the fridge from Burt, saying he had to stay late at the garage, but to eat whatever was there. Blaine made a sandwich, ate half of it, then went back down to Kurt's room and lay on the bed for a half an hour. Kurt called twice during that thirty minutes, Blaine didn't pick up. He started to get restless then, because he kept replaying all the bad things over and over in his head. Finally, he got up, groaned and left the house.

Blaine felt a little dizzy sitting there, at the back of Breadstix. It was freezing out, he really should have just gone home and slept. He sat there, sipping his second (at least he thought it was his second) can of beer, ignoring the employees who stared at him with disapproval when they came out to put out the garbage.

"Don't you have a home to go to?" one of the guys asked.

Blaine sat back against the wall and sighed. He couldn't really remember. "Have you ever lost something you could never get back?" he slurred. The guy raised an eyebrow at him. "No, really. Have you?"

"I.." the guy looked confused. "I lost my keys this morning?" He made it a question.

"Love is like.." Blaine's head was pounding. What was he even saying any more? "Like.. Yeah. Love is like garbage, man."

"Okay.. I've got to g—"

"I mean, it doesn't start out like garbage," Blaine rambled on. "It starts out good, y'know? Then it's gone. It ends up in a bin and then it's crushed and it just—just rots away."

The guy looked at Blaine as if he had three heads.

"Well," Blaine said thoughtfully, taking another sip of his can. "Maybe it's not really like garbage.."

"Alrighty then," the guy said, slowly. "I'll be going. Have a good life, bro." And with that he disappeared back inside the restaurant. Blaine laughed to himself. He didn't need company. He needed more alcohol and maybe some jelly beans. Jelly beans would be good right now.

"Anderson?"

Blaine turned and saw a familiar face staring at him. "Go.. Go home, Kenny. I don't like you." He hated Kenny. He wanted to stand up and empty his beer over his head, but that would be a waste of beer.

"Dude, you're a mess."

"Screw you."

"I offered to let you and you turned me down," Kenny smirked. "The offer no longer stands. Besides, you're too short for me, it would never work out. What are you doing anyway?"

"Having a party," Blaine smiled to himself. This was the best party he had ever thrown. People were so overrated. Solo parties. Why hadn't he thought of this years ago? "It's my birthday."

"Oh. Well, happy birthday, then. Blaine," Kenny said, sitting down next to him on the cold, hard concrete. "Dude, go home."

"I don't have a home."

"I thought you were staying at Hummel's."

"I am?" Blaine asked, grinning. "Cool. I should say thanks to Burt for letting me stay, right? He's, like, the nicest guy alive, seriously. Have you met him? Man's a saint. Hey, do you have any jelly beans?"

"Uh, no," Kenny said, looking amused. "I was just picking up some lasagne for Puck's mom. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I lost my bike. And my dad didn't take off the back wheels yet!"

"He didn't take off the.. Okay." Kenny shook his head. "Wow. How much have you had?"

"Oh!" Blaine sat up straight. "My phone's ringing! Where.. Ah, here it is! Hello? Helloooooo?"

"Blaine?" Kurt said, in surprise. He hadn't expected him to pick up. "Are you.. Is everything okay? You sound sort of—"

"Kurt!" Blaine said, excitedly. "Kurt, is that you? Kurt, please come home. I don't want to sleep alone any more. It's too cold."

He was drunk. Kurt sighed and fell back against the couch. He had been hoping Blaine was staying away from alcohol, because it would get him into trouble. Also, he had hoped Blaine had picked up because he wanted to, not because him being drunk made him forget he was ignoring Kurt.

"Blaine, where are you?"

"In the Hundred Acre Wood, Christopher Robin!" Blaine told him.

Kurt would have laughed had circumstances been different, but he was far too concerned for that. "Blaine," Kurt said, trying to remain calm. "What do you see around you?"

"Walls," Blaine told him, happily. "Walls and—garbage. So much garbage. It smells really bad. I wish you were here."

Kurt couldn't think where Blaine might be, because that didn't give much away. "Um, okay," he said, carefully. "Blaine, what else do you see?"

"Kenny," Blaine said and Kurt widened his eyes. "Go away, Kenny! Kurt and I don't want you here!"

Kurt heard a muffled voice on the other end. "Blaine," he said, then. "Can you hand the phone to Kenny for a second?"

"No," Blaine said, sounding uppity. "I want to talk to you."

"It's only for a minute, okay?" Kurt soothed. "Give the phone to Kenny and we can talk again in a sec, okay?"

"Fine."

There was a shuffling sound, then Kenny spoke, "Hey, Hummel," he said and Kurt could picture his smirking face, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

"Where are you guys?" Kurt asked, ignoring his flirty tone.

"I found your boy outside Breadstix, sitting amongst the garbage cans. Out of his mind drunk," Kenny chuckled. "He probably doesn't even know his own name right now."

"Fuck," Kurt whispered. "Can you take him back to my house?"

"I've got to get home, Humm—"

"You sort of owe me a favour, Kenneth," Kurt pointed out. "I had bruised ribs for weeks because of you. Now pick him up, put him in your car and take him to my house."

"God, fine, Hummel," Kenny groaned.

"Put him back on once you've got him in the car."

Kurt waited then and it was about five minutes later that he heard Blaine's voice on the other end of the phone. He heard a door slamming and a car starting up.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, sounding sleepy. "Kurt, are you there? Kurt?"

"Shh," Kurt said, quietly. "I'm here, Blaine. I'm here."

"Kurt, I miss you," Blaine told him and he didn't sound excited any more. He sounded tired and sad. "I just—I want you to come home and love me again."

Kurt frowned and he felt his chest aching a little. "I miss you, too," Kurt told him. "I miss you every single day."

"I just love you so much, baby," Blaine told him, emphasising the 'o' sound in 'so'. "I just—I love you and I can't stop. Why don't you love me any more?"

"Jesus Christ, Anderson," Kurt heard Kenny say. He rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Blaine," Kurt said, softly. He felt as if his heart was breaking inside his chest. "I do love you. I do, I promise."

"Then why are you so far away?" Blaine asked, with a sigh.

"I have to be," Kurt told him. "Blaine, look—"

"What the fuck, Anderson?" Kenny said, loudly. "Are you crying?"

Kurt felt helpless, because he wanted to pick Blaine up in his arms and hold him until he was okay again. He didn't know what to do.

"No! Shut up, Kenny!" Blaine said.

"Ignore him, Blaine," Kurt said. "Ignore him and talk to me, okay?"

"I miss your eyes, Kurt," Blaine said, sadly. "I miss holding your hand and looking at the stars with you and kissing you and making you laugh."

"I miss all that, too," Kurt told him. "Hey, happy birthday, by the way. I tried calling earlier today."

"Remember last year on my birthday Rachel gave me a Build-a-Bear voucher?" Blaine said, sounding a little brighter. "I never used that..."

"I remember," Kurt smiled a bit. "I told you not to let the date expire on that thing."

"I know," Blaine said. "Silly me." Kurt laughed a bit. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"You really still love me?"

"More than ever," Kurt told him, truthfully. "You're kind of breaking my heart, here, Blaine. I wish you'd answer my calls."

"I want to."

"You should," Kurt urged. "It hurts not talking to you."

"It hurts me, too," Blaine told him. "I love you, baby."

"Love you, too, babe," Kurt smiled, but he felt like his heart was being torn from his chest.

"Love you so much," Blaine told him, voice slurred. "When do I get to see you again?"

"You'd want to see me again?" Kurt asked. He knew it was the drink talking, but it still meant something. It had to.

"You're all I ever want to see."

"Good God," Kurt heard Kenny say, then, "Ouch! Jesus, Anderson! Your elbows are pointy! Jeez!"

Kurt smiled. "Serves him right," he said. "Hey, Blaine?"

"Yeah?" Blaine said. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know," Kurt nodded again. "I love you, too. Listen, when you go home you go straight to bed, okay? I'll give you a call tomorrow. Will you pick up?"

"Yeah," Blaine told him. "My neighbour has a pick up truck."

Kurt scoffed a little. "That's great, Blaine," he told him. "Are you almost home?"

"Kenny, that's Kurt's house!"

"No, it's the next one," Kenny told Blaine. "Now will you stop tugging on my sleeve?"

"Kurt. We're at your house now," Blaine told him and Kurt heard the engine dying. "Kenny, let me go! I don't want your filthy mitts on me! I have a boyfriend, stop that!"

"Blaine, he's just going to take you inside, okay?" Kurt told Blaine, secretly marvelling in the fact that he was still referring to him as his boyfriend. "Relax."

A few minutes later, Blaine was talking again. "Hi, pretty boy."

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt smiled, his heart doing a little flip. He had missed Blaine calling him that. "Where are you?"

"In your room," Blaine apprised him. "I'm on your bed and it smells like you. I wish you were here."

"I wish I was there, too," Kurt said and he meant it, because as much as he liked New York, Blaine was still very much home to him. "Get into bed and I'll stay on until you go asleep, okay?"

Kurt waited until the shuffling sounds had ended and Blaine was breathing on the other end again, before he spoke. "In bed?"

"Mm hmm."

"Close your eyes."

"I did."

"Good," Kurt smiled. "You don't have to say anything, just listen to me, all right?"

"Mm hmm," Blaine said, again. "Kurt."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be like this forever," he said, quietly.

"Like what?"

"Lonely," Blaine said, voice sounding a bit choked. "My mom and dad think there's something wrong with me. Maybe there is. Is there something wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Blaine," Kurt assured him. "Trust me."

"Okay," Blaine said. "But no one cares about me. I'm nothing."

"I care," Kurt said, quickly. "You're everything to me."

"I love you."

"And I love you," Kurt told him, feeling sick. Blaine sounded as if he was just giving up.

"What happens when you stop?"

"I'm not going to stop."

"Yes, you will," Blaine said. "Everyone does."

"Not me," Kurt said, feeling a bit panicked. "Blaine, are you—"

"I love you," Blaine said, softly and within seconds he was snoring quietly. Kurt listened to him there for a long time, before he felt his own eyes closing.

"I love you, too," he whispered, finally, then hung up and went to bed, unsure of just how he should be feeling. For one, he had finally spoken to Blaine and he still loved him, but Blaine was breaking and he couldn't do anything about it.

Blaine was torn and Kurt was helpless, but they loved each other and that had to count for something, didn't it? Kurt hoped so.

"Hi," Kurt said on the other end of the phone.

It had taken Blaine half the day to pluck up the courage and call him to apologise for the night before.

"Hi," he replied. "I'm, um, sorry about last night."

"I'm not," Kurt said. "It's the first time you've talked to me properly since I left."

"I was drunk."

"Which means you were telling the truth," Kurt pointed out.

"It doesn't change anything," Blaine said. "I still don't want to talk to you."

"That's a lie," Kurt said and Blaine sighed. "You can cut the crap. I know what you're doing. Not picking up my calls doesn't mean how you feel is going to go away." Blaine didn't say anything, because Kurt was right. Kurt was always right. "Why can't you just admit you still love me and talk to me like a normal person?"

"Because I'm scared that if we talk daily, you'll eventually find someone else and then you won't want to talk to me any more and then it'll just hurt," Blaine admitted. "I don't know if you've noticed, but my life isn't exactly fun and games at the moment. It hasn't been for almost a year now. I'm done getting myself into situations that leave me stranded. So this is the final call. If you're in severe trouble, by all means, call me, I'll be here. I always will, but other than that, I can't do it. I can't."

"So, what, you're just going to hang up on me now?" Blaine stayed silent, because he had been about to hang up. "It's hilarious how you claim you love me so much, yet the second I tell you how I feel, you just hang up like it means nothing to you. Go ahead, Blaine, hang up on me. Run away. That's what you've been doing for years, isn't it?"

Blaine didn't say anything.

"Sorry," Kurt said, after a few seconds. "That wasn't fair. I just.. I miss you, okay? I miss talking to you and I understand your concerns, I really do, but I need you to understand how much this hurts me, okay? I don't know what to do, Blaine. I want to talk to you. Okay, if you really don't want to talk to me, then don't, I'll respect that and I won't call any more, but if it hurts you as much as it hurts me, then just pick up the phone, okay?"

"I can't," Blaine groaned. "Can we just leave it now? I just want to move on with my life."

"So, that's it?" Kurt asked and Blaine wished he could just go climb into bed and sleep. He couldn't deal with this any more.

"Kurt," Blaine said, carefully. "I'm not as strong as you. I don't know how to deal with this. I just need time, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt said and his voice had softened. "I'm sorry. I just.. I miss you."

"Me, too," Blaine told him. "But I'm going to hang up now, okay?"

"Fine," Kurt sighed. "Before you go, I love you. I just need you to know that. You can hang up now."

Blaine paused, his stomach whirling. "I love you, too."

He hung up and closed his eyes, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. But then his phone rang again. He looked down at the screen and his eyes widened as round as saucers when e saw the caller I.D.

Incoming call: Dad.

Blaine took a deep breath and pressed the receive button. He raised the phone to his ear and spoke, voice a little hoarse.

"Hello?"