Kurt crossed one of his legs over the other at the ankle as his feet wiggled in his white socks at the end of the bed, right above the cluster of comforter.

“We never saw each other at the hospital after that Saturday. My dad came home a few days later, and we never really tried to get in touch. I didn’t even know his last name. I never knew enough real information about him to contact him even if I had intended to. I didn’t even know he went to Dalton until I saw him at auditions for Wicked…”

The last word mangled its way out of his throat and Kurt’s head thumped back against the headboard. He stared straight up, blinking at what he knew was a strikingly white ceiling, but which appeared almost black as it simply turned darker shades of gray with each passing moment, as the evening turned to night.

Kurt took a heavy breath. He had been trying to put this one singular thought from his mind, at least until he finished the story. There was still more to say before Blaine could understand, but the subject had come up and Kurt figured everyone would know soon enough.

“He’s quitting the show,” Kurt said dejectedly. He snapped his gaze away from the ceiling, instinctively reaching over to place a hand on Blaine’s chest. He knew all too well that Blaine would be fuming, that he’d want fly out of the room to give Peter a piece of his mind immediately… unless Kurt said otherwise.

“Don’t be angry at him. I certainly was,” Shadows formed along the far side of Blaine’s face, which was turned away from the only source of light in the room, if it was even worthy of that title, as the light was diminishing with each passing moment, “But what I know that you don’t, is there’s more to this story.” Kurt said frantically, “The thing is, I’m not entirely sure what more.”

Blaine’s brain felt like a rock in an oven. Burning, heavy and thick. He was seething, and the anger had risen in his chest within a split second of receiving this information, before Kurt even had a chance to reach over and placate him. Blaine’s muscles were tense, but they calmed to Kurt’s touch. He sank back into the pillows, respecting Kurt’s need to finish his story.

There was a significant silence before Kurt spoke again.

“I didn’t tell anyone at Dalton when Carole had to take my dad back to the hospital a few days ago. I didn’t want any of you to worry.”

A tear made a valiant effort to sprint across Kurt’s cheek, but he brushed it away brusquely.

“I don’t want to cry anymore,” Kurt choked out quietly as he slid down a bit against the headboard. His forehead was now level with Blaine’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t go back home. He and Carole had used their honeymoon money to send me here, and I couldn’t just leave Dalton.” He leaned his head slightly onto Blaine’s arm.

Money was clearly not the only reason that Kurt refused to leave Dalton, but he thought it wise to elude the second factor.

“I finally went back to Lima yesterday.” Kurt crossed his arms over his stomach, “But before I even went home, I drove straight to the hospital,”

As Darkness spread through the corners of the room that had not been lucky enough to fall within the light of the moon, it seemed as if everything beyond the two of them was disappearing. Inch by inch, as the light receded along the floor, the rest of the room turned to velvety darkness.

Blaine bent his knees, shying away from the enveloping darkness that dragged along the floor, closer and closer to Kurt’s bed. Pulling his legs up closer to his chest, Blaine rested each of his hands on one of his knees. He wanted very much to hold Kurt’s own hand, to show him that everything would be alright, but Kurt’s hands were buried in his tightly crossed arms.

“When I finally got to my dad’s room, I walked inside… and there he was. Peter,” Kurt clarified blankly.

Both boys realized simultaneously how little they’d used Peter’s actual name over the course of this very Peter-centric story.

“He was leaving a note on the bedside table. When I asked him what was going on, he told me he had to quit the show. and he told me-“ Kurt’s words were barely audible as the sincere confusion and hurt he had initially felt flooded through his skin once more.

“He couldn’t see me anymore,”

Kurt knew that Blaine would interpret the phrase as ‘Peter broke up with me’ when really, he had meant ‘see’ in the most literal form of the word. Peter wanted to talk with Kurt, to explain before they parted ways, but Kurt had practically run out of the room the minute Peter had tried.

Kurt watched the darkness as it approached the edge of the bed. He expected it to engulf them in mere minutes, as the last of the light through the window would die.

“He’s not even going to see the show,” Kurt hung his head, drying the corner of his eye on the fabric covering Blaine’s shoulder.

Kurt loosened his crossed arms as Blaine felt acutely the ache in his bones as he wished he could siphon off some of Kurt’s heartache and take it on himself. As much as he wanted Kurt to be separated from Peter, he decided if that made his friend feel like this, it wasn’t worth wanting.

“Obviously Ginger wasn’t in my dad’s room, but I think- I think she’s there… back in the hospital, I mean,” Kurt said, reaching his hand up to cover Blaine’s, which still rested on his knee.

They both looked on curiously as the threshold of darkness lingered on the edge of the bed, still dimly lit. It had defied their expectations. It had not come any closer, but hung simply on the hem of the sheets.

“He knew my dad was in the hospital.” Kurt said numbly, “He knew it was me!” Kurt’s voice rose and his words gathered passion, “He remembered me! and he never said a word!” Kurt’s fingers grasped in between Blaine’s. He squeezed his friend’s hand, like a child receiving a shot, relentlessly.
“I thought he’d forgotten,” Kurt’s voice grew faint and mellifluous as he stared down into his lap, feeling ashamed, and never really knowing why, “But he knew it was me.” Kurt said, pain and confusion peppering his words, “I just don’t understand”

He knew Blaine could not understand either, and he knew as well that this was his fault for withholding information. Although he felt guilty for his equivocation, Kurt couldn’t help but allow his mind to settle on more pressing matters.

He wondered continuously if Peter had recognized him all along. When Kurt saw him at the Wicked auditions, Peter had shaken his hand firmly and introduced himself like a stranger. How could Kurt have been wrong in assuming that Peter had forgotten all about him?

“Why would he leave me?” The words were barely audible.

Blaine noticed the darkness receding just a little, from where it had rested only a minute ago. He was baffled until he glanced out the window and was met with his answer. The moon shone enormous and bright, taking place of the final remnants of sun that had shortly disappeared.

Blaine waited a long time in silence before Kurt eased the pressure on his hand, and giving one quick and pointed squeeze, silently granting Blaine permission to speak.

“Kurt,” he said the name softly, and slowly, “You’re not easy to forget,” Blaine turned his head to look down at Kurt, exhaling deeply, as the other boy trained his gaze on their hands, as he moved his fingers slowly and fluidly through Blaine’s “Maybe he left because he remembers you… because he knows you remember him.” Blaine placed his other hand on top of Kurt’s, making a sort of sandwich with their palms.

“I know this might not make sense, but what I’m trying to say is that it’s probably a little overwhelming, having those kinds of feelings rushing back so abruptly. Maybe it scared him. He may just need some time to sort himself out.” Kurt turned from Blaine’s shoulder to look up into his face. Their eyes met.

“I understand why you’re upset, but I’m sure he’s just kind of enveloped in a world where getting rid of everything that causes feelings he can’t face seems like the wisest choice,”

Kurt’s eyes seemed enormous, as he stared, hanging on Blaine’s every word. Blaine felt captivated by that glassy gaze in his piercing blue eyes, until he remembered that it was not acceptable to get lost in them. They were now someone else’s to vanish in.

“Maybe he’s not as strong as you are Kurt. Maybe he’s not as brave.” Blaine’s eyes were unwavering as his voice reflected his diction, echoing with truthful intensity.

Kurt felt the intrepidity seemingly spread into him through Blaine’s fingertips like an immutable electricity as his body decided before his brain to surge forward and to close the space between them. In one quick throbbing moment Kurt had left all doubt behind, encasing Blaine’s lips with his own.