Blaine didn't sleep that night. He kept thinking about returning to the future and whether or not it would be a good idea. It wasn't that he didn't want to go - he would love to be with Kurt again - he was just worried that he shouldn't go. He had felt like he was cheating and just plain wrong when he was in the future, so why would he feel any different if he were to go back? This was the time he belonged in; this was where he should stay.

Another major concern was whether he would be able to travel to the correct year. His journey into the year 2014 had been random and his return to this time had presumably been the universe righting itself. Kayleigh hadn't known how to control what year he went to, so how would he know he was going to the year he wanted? It all looked to be too big of a risk.

But returning to the future was his shot at happiness - wasn't that worth any amount of possible risk?

It was all so frustrating. He was in a battle between doing what was inherently right and what would bring him love and happiness. It was the hardest dilemma he'd ever faced and he wasn't sure he was capable of making a decision.
He dragged himself out of bed once he'd heard both of his parents leave the house and slouched through to the bathroom to assess the damage from another night of no sleep. His eyes were bloodshot beneath drooping eyelids, his skin was pale and drawn, tinged with a sickly greyish color, and his hair stuck up in clumps of curls around his head. As he blinked at his reflection, he yawned, his jaw clicking as his mouth stretched wide open. He wanted nothing more than to be able to go back to bed, wipe his mind blank, and get some sleep. He always wanted that which was impossible.

Hoping to get rid of the horrible stale taste in his mouth, he brushed his teeth, and then washed his face, half hoping to see the unhealthy color from his skin disappearing down the drain. Without looking at his reflection again, he went back to his room and sat down on the bed, feeling lost. He wished he had some sort of structure in his life, a daily routine to follow so that he had something to occupy himself with. He'd never needed a distraction more than he did now, and he envied Kurt having a full-time job that kept him busy. He wished he hadn't taken time off from working with his father, for as much as he disliked working in his father's law firm, at least it would keep him sufficiently distracted.

Jumping to his feet, he headed for his closet. He may have no idea what to do for the rest of the day, but he couldn't spend it sitting in his room; he'd only start thinking about everything again and drive himself crazy. He tried to think of something to do while he got dressed, but drew a blank. His friends were all at work or busy with other things, he had no errands to run, and couldn't think of any place he could visit to waste some time. He would play the piano if the mere thought wasn't painful or go somewhere for a coffee if the smell of the drink didn't make tears well up in his eyes. He would have to start work again.

When he left the house a short while later, he still had no plans for the day. With no destination in mind, he let his feet carry him wherever they wanted to take him. He caught a train into the city and walked through the streets without paying any attention to where he was going. He walked in a sort of trance: half conscious of the street he was on and the buildings he was passing. He wasn't even really thinking as he walked, his mind becoming gratefully quiet. This was why, whenever his head became too full of thoughts or he was drowning in emotions, he'd gone for a walk around the city. It always helped to clear his head and help him see things from a better angle. For some reason, his mind went almost blank as he walked the streets until, after a while, whatever it was that had been troubling him would start to return, but in a different way that made it all so much clearer, calming him down. He didn't know how or why it worked for him, but he was glad it did. He needed a way of coping.

He'd been walking for some time when he eventually stopped, stepping off to one side of the walk to let the trickle of people on the street continue on past. Having not been paying attention to where he was going, he looked around curiously.

He was standing in front of a slightly shabby clothing store. He didn't recognize it or the buildings on either side of it, yet looking further up and down the street, something looked familiar to him. He wondered if he'd come this way with Wes once. Something about the clothing store kept drawing his eye, though, and he moved closer to the store front, racking his brain to try and remember why this area felt familiar.

The peeling paint of the lettering spelling out an unrecognisable shop name and the unstylish clothes displayed in the window made Blaine positive he had never come here shopping. Casting his eyes further afield, he surveyed the surrounding area, taking in the small shops and residential buildings nearby. The frontage of an apartment building across the road caught his eye, a memory niggling at the back of his mind, teasing him, but not quite fleshed out enough to give him any answers.

A man walked past him, grumbling something under his breath as he read the day's newspaper; realisation hit Blaine like a tonne of bricks.

He spun back round to face the shabby store behind him. This was Kurt's building. In ninety-one years' time, this would be where Kurt lived. That was why the street looked familiar: he'd walked along it on his way back home dozens of times over the last few months. He couldn't believe it had taken him so long to recognise where he was. Of course, the street looked completely different in the future to how it did now. Most of the shops were replaced by apartment buildings and nearly all of the current residencies were extended and refurbished. It did look really different.

A few passers-by gave him curious looks as he stood there staring at the clothing store with wide, slightly watery eyes and with his breathing fast and shallow. To them, he probably looked like he was having some sort of emotional breakdown - which, he supposed he was. He couldn't believe he'd walked here, of all places. The route must have been so ingrained in him he'd just taken it without thinking. He was a little bit shocked by it all.

He would never have come here intentionally. If he'd know this was where his feet were taking him he would have turned around and gone another way. Coming here was opening up fresh wounds that had just begun to start a long and slow healing process. It was another reminder that he was no longer with Kurt and that Kurt did not exist in this time - heck, his building didn't even exist yet. If Wes had been here with him he'd have been looking at the deeper meaning of this, saying Blaine had walked here because this was where his subconscious was telling him to go. Blaine didn't think of this as some sort of sign; coming here was just a force of habit. He hadn't been back in this time for all that long; it would be a while before he lost these old habits.

Taking a deep breath, he wrenched his gaze away from the building and continued his walk down the street, fighting with the strong urge to look back. He'd made his decision; he couldn't keep changing his mind. Going to the future again may very well be his only chance at true love and happiness, but it wasn't right for him to mess around with time; nobody else got the opportunity to do it, and there were people in a lot worse situations than him who deserved it more. Why should he abuse a power he'd gained by accident?

He ignored the voice in the back of his head that pointed out that there may be a reason he had this knowledge of time travel.

He paused when he reached a road intersection, debated with himself for a moment, and then took a right turn. His steps became the purposeful walk of someone with a destination in mind. He was going to visit other places in the city that were significant to his relationship with Kurt. Hopefully by doing so his half-formed plans of returning to the future would be snuffed out by the reality of seeing that Kurt and the world he lived in did not exist in this time. It wasn't an easy thing he was making himself do and he hated that he now had to try and force Kurt further out of his life, but he had to do it. He couldn't continue this wistful thinking of playing God.

One place he wouldn't visit was the coffee shop. Although it was the site of their first meeting and held many memories he couldn't risk going back to the place where he'd time travelled; it would only tempt him more to go back. There was also the fact that the coffee shop had barely changed between now and 2014; seeing it would hardly drive home his separation from Kurt.

First, he visited Kurt's workplace, where they had met many times before heading off for lunch. Blaine had also dropped by on several occasions to bring Kurt a coffee or some lunch on the days he was too busy to spend the mealtime with him. It was the meeting place of many of their less-formal dates and Blaine could still hear Kurt's surprised laugh when he looked up from his computer to see him standing in front of his desk holding a coffee and some food for him.
The building that would house Dalton Designs in the future was currently a business firm of some sort. Men in suits marched in and out, most of them carrying briefcases or a copy of the New York Times. There was not a hint of what the building was to become in the next ninety or so years. Not a trace of Kurt in the serious faces of the men working in the building or in the brass plate by the door stating the name of the business. But, despite this, a memory of Kurt still unfolded inside Blaine's mind: His boyfriend leaning against the wall by the door, his own fedora hat perched stylishly on top of his head. Kurt had taken it from his room to wear because it was the missing piece that finished off his outfit perfectly. There had been something about seeing Kurt wearing his hat that had made Blaine's stomach flip and bubbles of joy to inflate inside of him. Those bubbles had expanded to balloons when Kurt had looked up at his greeting, a bright smile in his face, and stepped forward to kiss him, the rim of the hat bumping gently against Blaine's forehead when he'd leaned in closer.

Ignoring the heavy weight in his chest, Blaine stared hard at everything that was different about the building: the suited men, the shiny brass plaque, the rather plain wooden doors. He stared like he would be able to ingrain the image in his mind by looking hard enough. It wasn't that he wanted to replace his memories of Kurt at the building with one of serious businessmen; he only wanted the image of how it was now in his head to compare with his memories of the future. He wanted it set in his mind that this was how things were now, this was reality; everything with Kurt was just a memory.

He moved on after a few minutes, walking the short distance to the site of the café where he and Kurt had regularly eaten lunch, and then he walked a little further to the restaurant where they went for their first date. It was a restaurant even in this time, but a different one. The outside of the building looked different as well from what he remembered from the night of their date. But he'd been too busy looking at Kurt to notice much about the appearance of the restaurant, so he couldn't be sure.

By this point he'd stopped trying to make himself accept the reality of where he was now. He was now just reminiscing about his too-short time with Kurt. He managed to confine himself to remembering fondly and nothing more, but the yearning ache for Kurt crept up inside him until, by the time he was standing at the future location of the restaurant at which he'd paid for their date for the first time, he was desperately wishing he was back in the future again.

He'd turned his back on love, independence, happiness, and the freedom to be himself for controlling, disinterested parents he rarely saw, a friend who would much rather he stayed in the future, and a time period he never felt particular right in. He must be crazy.

Without really thinking about it, he set off slowly along the street, letting his feet carry him all the way to Central Park. Once he was following one of the park's many paths, he pulled himself from his thoughts and began to take notice of the surroundings. Like the last time he'd been in the park, autumn colours were in full force, the trees an explosion of oranges and reds, the grass and paths covered in a carpet of rustic leaves. People sitting on the benches were curled up inside their coats to ward off the cold and the leaves skittered along the path in front of them, carried along by icy gusts of wind. The chill on Blaine's left side, where Kurt normally walked, was suddenly much more noticeable. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets to stop himself from reaching for the hand of a person who wasn't there.

He reached his destination after a short walk: a small outcropping overlooking a large area of the park and the city beyond. It was Kurt's favourite spot in the city. He'd never intended on coming here when he'd been mentally listing places of significance, but somehow it seemed like he was always going to come here. It was a special place to Kurt, somewhere he went to escape, and he'd shared it with Blaine. This spot had held a place in Blaine's heart since the day Kurt had taken him here.

Though the ground was damp from the drizzly rain that had fallen last night, Blaine lowered himself to the ground and sat facing out over the park with his legs crossed in front of him. A damp chill seeped into his pants and tiny, gritty stones scratched at his hands when he rested them on the rock he was sitting on. He brushed the grit from his palms and rested his hands on his knees instead, not taking his eyes off the view in front of him.

The city skyline was different and there was no warm body next to his own, but Blaine still felt as though he could turn his head and see Kurt sitting next to him. The letters and looking up at the stars did make him feel connected to Kurt, but they didn't make him feel as Kurt could actually be there with him. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel Kurt's hand resting on his knee and smell his scent in the air. He could see why Kurt had loved this spot so much. All his problems and worries felt distant, like he'd left them behind in the gridlock of streets and cluster of buildings he could see beyond the trees.

While the city changed drastically over the years, the park was almost timeless. Here, it felt like Blaine could be in almost any time, like if he thought hard enough he could look round and see Kurt smiling at him. It was sugar-coated poison: sweet and nice on the surface, but painfully wrong when you dug deeper.
He wanted to go back. He'd made a mistake by returning and he wanted to go back to the future - if it was possible. He couldn't spend the rest of his days writing letters and visiting the park whenever he missed Kurt too much; he couldn't keep wistfully looking up at the stars each night. He couldn't live like this.

Some people might think he was being pathetic, that he would get over feeling like this and, after a while, he would no longer miss Kurt as much and he'd be able to move on with his life. It wasn't like that. Blaine didn't know if he was just the kind of person who once they fell in love that was it for them, or if there was some truth behind the stories of soulmates and destiny, but he honestly couldn't see himself loving someone other than Kurt. Kurt was it for him; he knew it deep down in his heart, in his very soul. Kurt was his everything. He understood him completely, he knew when he needed space or a laugh, how far he could push him, and when he was feeling down and needed a hot chocolate and a warm embrace. Kurt made him feel complete, like he'd always held a little piece of him and he could only be whole when they were together. Kurt was his best friend, his other half - and he'd walked away from him.

Tears stinging in his eyes, Blaine buried his face in his hands. What had he done? He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid and misguided to think he would be better off being in his own time. He'd hated his life so much here, yet he'd still come back, foolishly thinking it would be better. Why did he always have to do what was considered right? Hiding that he was a homosexual, following his father into a career in law, attending ghastly balls and dances with Anna, returning to his own time... If the world didn't have rebellious people, those who strayed from the norm, then how would the world progress? How would inventions be created or new concepts be discovered? Why shouldn't he be one of those people? Why couldn't he set off down his own path rather than follow the one he was being nudged along? He'd always been scared of going against the wishes of his parents or doing something that made people whisper about him behind his back, but he shouldn't care about that. He only got one life, so why shouldn't he live it the way he wanted to? Why shouldn't he be happy? And he had another reason for doing this now: love.

Scrambling to his feet, Blaine brushed off the seat of his pants and scurried down the path towards the nearest park exit. He was going to see Wes to accept his offer to help him go back to the future and Kurt.

Keeping his word, Kurt made a point to regularly call his dad to have a chat and let him know how he was doing. Some days they didn't have a whole lot to say to each other - work had been the same thing for both of them and nothing exciting had happened - but Kurt did feel better hearing his dad's voice and he knew his dad was happy to talk to him for as long as he wanted even though they were saying the same mundane things. Kurt was still hurting and he still missed Blaine terribly, but he didn't feel like he was drowning in loss now that he was talking to his dad more, a definite improvement.

He also talked to Rachel about how he was feeling at least twice a day. Following orders no doubt given to her by his dad, Rachel asked him how he was every morning and evening, and wouldn't accept a one-word answer. Kurt had expected this to start getting on his nerves, but it never did; her support helped him and he was truly grateful for it.

Rachel was also keeping a close eye on how much he was working: turning down invites to nights out to stay at home and making sure he wasn't spending the evening hunched over his laptop or a pile of sketches. In the evenings Kurt now had to fight the urge to work, instead trying to relax by watching TV or reading a magazine. He found it hard - working was an easy and effective way of distracting himself and passing the time - but he understood why his dad and Rachel were so concerned with him overworking. He knew it wasn't healthy.

Something that did make Kurt laugh to himself was how Rachel was going out of her way to eat meals at home with him, clearly concerned about his diet. There was absolutely no need for her to worry if he was eating enough; cooking and eating were excellent sources of distraction and comfort.

It was after one of these shared meals - a stir fry dinner which Rachel not-so-subtly watched him eat - that Rachel noticed Kurt had Blaine's pocket watch.

They were sitting in the living room together, a reality show of sorts showing on the TV which Rachel was watching. Kurt wasn't paying attention to the TV; he was staring unseeingly at the screen, his mind sifting numbly though everything that had happened over the last few months. At some point he'd taken Blaine's pocket watch out and began circling his thumb around the cover. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the show go to an advert break, turning Rachel's attention on to him, nor did he hear Rachel saying his name until she'd leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of him.

"Kurt!"

Giving a little start, Kurt looked over at his friend. He blinked at her rapidly as the memories he'd been re-living grew smaller inside his head. He met her expectant look with one of mild confusion.

"Sorry - what?"

Rachel let out a small exasperated sigh. "I was wondering what it was you are fiddling with; it looks like a pocket watch."

Kurt glanced down at the watch in his hand, the one he hadn't realised he was holding. He carried it around with him all the time and absently fiddling with it had become something of a habit for him, like one would bite their nails. He wasn't aware he was doing it most of the time, but his boss had told him off for doing it during a meeting earlier that week, saying it was driving her crazy. He'd tried to leave it alone in his pocket, but that had only lasted a few hours. It didn't feel right not slipping it in his pocket every day, either.

He supposed it had started out as a comfort thing: holding something of Blaine's to remind him that Blaine had existed and those last few months had been real, not a fantasy. Somewhere along the line, taking it out of his pocket and running his thumb over the engraved cover had become habit.

"It is a pocket watch," Kurt said, smoothing his thumb over the cover once more. He hoped she wasn't about to tell him his fidgeting was annoying her as well; it was hard enough to stop himself from doing it during meetings at work, never mind in his own home.

Rachel's forehead creased in sadness. "Oh, Kurt. Buying yourself a pocket watch because Blaine had one isn't going to help you get over him."

Kurt stared at her. "What?" He shook his head. "No, this is Blaine's one; he left it for me."

Now Rachel was the one who looked confused, worry only just staying out of her expression. Kurt could tell she was verging on worrying about his mental health. "Why would he leave you his watch?"

"A reminder," Kurt replied, lowering his gaze to the gold watch in his hand. "Something solid and physical to have for the bad days when it all feels like a wistful fantasy." He flicked the cover open and smoothed his thumb over the face of the watch, his skin catching on the tiny scratch. "I put the first bowtie I bought him in his pocket just before he left, so he has something, too."

Rachel was silent for a moment.

"Do you- Do you think the bowtie survived the journey back?" she asked hesitantly.

Kurt flipped the cover closed. "I sure hope so."

Rachel was hesitating again; Kurt could almost feel it in the air. He didn't have to look up to know the way she was watching him with curious, uncertain eyes or how her mouth was opening and closing as she internally debated on whether to speak or not. He also knew that she would end up asking whatever was on her mind; Rachel rarely held back when it came to talking to people and getting to know the information she wanted. Normally Kurt would save her the struggle and ask her straight up what she wanted to know, but today he was in no hurry to return to their silent watching of TV, and he was grateful for the small distraction she was providing. So, he sat in silence and let her argue it out with herself and get round to asking him in her own time.

She finally spoke up a few minutes later.

"What... exactly happened with Blaine?" she asked slowly, her tone of voice reminiscent of someone tiptoeing around a sleeping lion. When Kurt's gaze shot up to meet her's, she lost a little of her confidence, fumbling over her words for a moment, before shaking her hair back out of her face, and sitting up straighter. "I know you said he felt like he didn't belong here, but did he just announce that and say he was leaving, or...?"

Kurt stared at her, unblinking, and with his expression hardening, making her recoil slightly. He didn't particularly want to tell her the whole story, to relive it all again, but he'd promised his dad he'd open up more about everything, and he knew Rachel would keep asking and wondering until he told her. Maybe it would even help; maybe it would relieve him of some of the heavy pain that had been weighing him down since Blaine left.

Swallowing thickly, Kurt closed his fingers around the pocket watch, holding it tightly in his hand.

"I knew he wanted to go home. Before he told me, I knew he wasn't happy here and was thinking of home. I knew it from the night we went to see your show," Kurt said in an uneven voice that was choked-up with the tears now blurring his vision. "I waited for him to say he wanted to return, but he never did. He didn't want to hurt me. Eventually I had to ask him about it and he admitted how he was feeling." He stopped there and used the hand not clutching the watch to wipe away the tears clinging to his face.

Rachel's expression was an odd mix of curiosity and deep sympathy. She was clearly bursting with questions and was reluctantly holding herself back from asking them given Kurt's distress. She gave him about half a minute to recover and regain some control over his emotions.

"But what made him suddenly change his mind about staying?" she asked. "I thought he was happy here. He had everything going for him: a job, school, freedom, you." She nodded her head at Kurt, who sniffed and passed a hand under his red nose. "What made him suddenly want to leave that?" Her eyes widened with realisation. "Was it something to do with me?"

In spite of everything, Kurt rolled his eyes. His fond, exasperated reactions to her egotistical, diva ways hadn't been obliterated by his pain.

Thinking about Rachel's other questions, he remembered Blaine's behaviour at the bar on the night they'd gone to Rachel's show. He remembered his overwhelmed expression and how he'd mentioned feeling slightly claustrophobic, his nervous hesitance over his drink, and the way he'd dashed outside half an hour after they'd arrived.

"I think it just hit him all of a sudden how different he was to everyone in this time," Kurt said slowly, the image of Blaine's panicked face as he'd stood outside the bar clear in his mind. "It had probably been building up for weeks and that night at the bar had been the final tipping point for him." Another thought surfaced in his mind and he let out a muffled sob as more tears welled up in his eyes. Guilt immediately followed the thought, rising up inside him until it burned in his throat. He hung his head in shame, the tiny catch on the side of the watch digging into his palm.

"A tiny, selfish part of me wished he would fight through that feeling for me; that he cared about me too much to leave." A series of guttural sobs ripped their way out of his chest. "I ju-just- I only want what makes him ha-happy," Kurt sobbed, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Even if that breaks my heart."

He collapsed against the back of the couch, curled in on himself, and lost himself to painful, heart-wrenching sobbing. He hadn't let himself cry like this in front of Rachel since the day Blaine had left, but it was all too much to keep inside of him. He couldn't stay in control when he remembered Blaine's departure and the hole in his broken heart he'd left behind.

He didn't hear Rachel move, but suddenly she was next to him on the couch, rubbing soothingly at his back and murmuring softly. He couldn't make out what she was saying through his distress, but her tone was comforting and eventually he quietened, the flare-up of his pain and loss calming. Sniffing, he scrubbed at his face with his hand and sleeve, drying off the tears. He sat up straight again and managed to give Rachel a small, watery smile of gratitude.

"Thank you," he said roughly. "Sometimes it just gets too much and I just-" He gestured vaguely, waving his hand helplessly. "I really miss him."

Rachel rubbed at his back again. "He was your everything, wasn't he?"

Nodding, Kurt wiped away a stray tear that had escaped from his right eye. "I could see my future with him. I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him." He swallowed the lump of impending tears that rose in his throat. "I wanted that with him. I wanted him to stay in my life - for good." A sharp pain wrenched inside of him, tugging harshly on everything from his stomach to his heart.

"He was your soulmate," Rachel whispered, her voice sad.

Kurt nodded in agreement. He'd never really considered himself a believer in that sort of thing, but the term fit in a way no other word could.

"Soulmates always have a way of finding each other again," Rachel said mysteriously.

Sniffing, Kurt looked at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rachel had an odd look on her face. She looked strangely torn, like she was having an internal debate with herself about something. Her forehead was pinched into a conflicted frown and she was fiddling with her nails in the way she always did when she was uncertain about something. She shrugged, avoiding Kurt's gaze in favour of looking at her nails.

Kurt stared at her. "Are you talking about us meeting in another life? Because I didn't think you believed in that kind of thing."

"There are a lot of things I didn't used to believe in." She finally lifted her gaze to Kurt's face, her expression now more guarded. "I was proved wrong about time travel, wasn't I?"

Kurt didn't know what to think. He had no idea what Rachel was getting at and he was far too worn out and emotionally drained to try and make sense of it. He sometimes struggled to understand her on the best of days, never mind when he'd had a long day at work followed by a cry over Blaine.

"Well I really hate that our meeting in this life was so short. We got a pretty shit deal being from different centuries," Kurt said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

Patting his back one final time and getting to her feet, Rachel gave him an oddly restrained smile. "Don't label this as shit when you've hardly experienced any of it. Time can change everything."

And with that she grabbed her purse from the coffee table and then strode off to her room, leaving Kurt staring after her, feeling even more tired and confused.