From Blaine:  Sam and I are making Friday night fajitas for dinner.  Want to come over?

From Kurt:  Sure!  What can I bring? I make a mean sangria, if thats appropriate.  And maybe some dessert?

From Blaine: What could be inappropriate about sangria?

From Kurt:  You clearly havent seen Santana drink it... But seriously, I thought maybe you didnt drink.  Until the champagne at the NYADA party.  But either way is fine with me.

Blaine paused before typing out his response, not sure how much to say.  Since the night in the garden (the magic garden, he called it in his head) he had felt like he could say anything to Kurt.  All of the mountains of problems he thought would come in between them were starting to seem like gentle rolling hills, obstacles that could be overcome with just a harder push on the pedals.  When Kurt gave him the ebony cane, he expected to be embarrassed, had prepared himself for that rush of shame that always seemed to accompany the topic of his disability.  But instead he just saw a beautiful gift, and felt Kurts genuine acceptance, and he couldnt help but be happy about it.  Surely he could fill Kurt in on the reasons he and Sam didnt drink as much as stereotypical college students.

From Kurt:  Blaine?  Did I say something wrong?

From Blaine:  No, not at all, sorry.  Youre right that we usually dont drink.  Sam and I had an unfortunate evening of tequila last fall, and we decided afterwards that there were just a few too many strikes against us (grief, history of depression, sleep problems, etc. etc.) that might turn casual drinking into something else.  But we do drink sometimes, and sangria tonight would be great. 

From Kurt:  I think I might need braces again soon.

From Blaine:  ??

From Kurt:  Because I keep putting my foot in my mouth.  Its bound to affect my teeth at some point.

From Blaine:  Its really okay (and how come I didnt know you had braces?)

From Kurt:  Because all the pictures of me with braces have been burned, obviously. 

From Blaine:  I did notice a strange gap in your fathers "Kurt Through The Years" photo album around age twelve. 

From Kurt:  I wasnt kidding when I said I burned them.  And when did you see that photo album?

From Blaine:  Can I tell you later?  Its kind of a story.

From Kurt:  Should I be nervous?

From Blaine:  No, please dont be nervous. 

From Blaine:  I cant wait to see you tonight, by the way. 

From Kurt:  Me too.  See you then?

From Blaine:  Hasta la vista. 

That afternoon Sam went to the grocery store while Blaine vacuumed and straightened up.  He had volunteered to go with Sam, but Sam said he didnt mind going by himself, and slipped out before Blaine could argue.  It was clear that something was bothering Sam.  He wasnt sure what it was - he had seemed fine after the sleepover with Kurt, and they had spent the next afternoon practicing for an open mic night, having a blast going over some of their old favorite songs to sing together.  But today Sam was decidedly grumpy.

When Sam got back from the store, they started on the prep work, slicing up a pile of red and green peppers and chopping onions.  Blaine put on some music, but Sam didnt even respond when "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" came up on his playlist.  It was time for an intervention.

When they had set the table and checked the apartment for dirty socks one last time, Blaine thought hed ask Sam to play video games with him, and then casually ask him what was wrong.  It had worked before, so much so that Sam sometimes gave him a knowing look when he took out the controllers.  But before he had a chance, Sam was heading down the hallway to his room.  "Gonna take a nap before Kurt gets here, okay?"  Sam didnt even wait for Blaines answer before closing his door.

After a minute of indecision, Blaine grabbed his new cane, taking a moment to run a finger over the braid work, and followed Sam.  He knocked softly on the door, then eased it open.  "Sam?  Can I join you?"

Sam was already in bed, curled up facing away from the door, his blond hair barely visible over the top of his dark green comforter.  Sams room was neat and organized, his desk arranged carefully under a big white board where he kept track of his calendar and assignments.  It helped him to see everything laid out, a strategy his tutor had showed him. 

The only response Blaine got to his question was a movement from under the covers that was probably a shrug.  "Ill take that as a yes," Blaine said under his breath, and slid under the warm blanket with Sam.  When they first moved here they used to take naps together almost every day, Blaine finding that the sheer effort of wheeling himself around the city exhausted him, and he could do a much better job on his homework if he rested first.  Sam had always been more than willing to keep him company.  But they didnt do it much anymore.

Blaine put his hand on Sams back, between his shoulder blades, wanting a physical connection between them.  When Sam didnt protest, he slid his hand up to the back of his neck and started gently massaging the tight muscles there.  After a few minutes he felt Sam relax. 

"Please tell me whats wrong, Sam," he said softly. 

Sam shook his head.  Blaine almost asked him if it had anything to do with Kurt, and then it dawned on him, looking at Sam curled up in his blankets in the middle of the day. Sam could hardly be giving him a bigger hint.

"Are you tired?"

"Duh," Sam said irritably.

"Is it the nightmares?"

Sam didnt answer, but he turned over and butted his head against Blaines chest.  Blaine put his arms around Sam and squeezed him tightly.  "I knew you were getting them more often.  Im so sorry, Sam."

"Dont be sorry.  Theres nothing you can do," Sam mumbled.

"Thats not true, I should have said something."

"How's that going to help?  You already practically rock me to sleep," Sam snapped, his frustration evident.  "Why cant I grow up and get over this?"

"Dont do that to yourself.  You know it doesnt have anything to do with growing up."  Blaine pushed Sams hair out of his face and let his hand rest on the back of his head.  "Whens the last time you talked to Betsy?"  Blaine wished he had brought up the subject of Sam talking to his therapist sooner, but late would have to be better than never in this case.

Another shrug.  "Maybe you can give her a call, and set up a time to see her when we go visit your family?" 

"You're still coming with me?" Sam asked, his voice rough.  Blaines heart ached.  Maybe some of Sams mood had a little to do with Kurt after all.

"Of course I do.  I wouldnt miss Fourth of July fireworks with your family for the world.  Plus, Stacie said shed make me her turtle brownies.  You know how much I like caramel."

"But New York has a huge fireworks show.  Like, the biggest."

"Sam Evans, I know exactly what youre thinking, and youre wrong.   I am going home with you for the Fourth, just like we planned.  I can hang out with Kurt anytime."  Please, please let that be as true as it seems to be, he thought. "Do you really think Id skip out on a Blam fourth?"

Sam looked up at Blaine, his eyes teary.  "Im sorry, Blaine.  Im just so tired."

"I know, Sammy, its okay."  Blaine rubbed Sams arm comfortingly, and then craned his head around to look at the white board on the wall.  "You dont have to work at the gym Monday, right?"

"I dont think so."

"Well, we have a date, then."

"I think youre confusing me with someone else," Sam said dejectedly.

"Nope, its definitely you.  Monday were going to the NYU student health center, and finding you someone to talk with right here in New York.  There's got to be something to do about your bad dreams besides give up on sleeping.  Okay?"

"Thats a sucky date, dude."

"Yeah, well, Im saving my good date ideas for guys that will put out."

Sam burst out laughing and kept going helplessly, tears leaking from his eyes.  Blaine laughed too, as much in relief as anything else, both of them finally clutching their stomachs and groaning. 

"Fine, you win.  Ill go on your crappy date, B."  Sam gave Blaine a crushing hug and a hard kiss to the side of his head, then turned over and curled up, hands tucked under his pillow.  "Wake me up when Kurt gets here."

"Will do."  Blaine slid out of Sams bed and grabbed his cane, whistling "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" as he closed Sams door behind him.

-----

"So, I have to know, why do you call them Friday night fajitas?"  Kurt asked, helping himself to another scoop of chicken and peppers and wrapping them in a soft tortilla.

"Because by the time we get to Friday, if weve been eating junk all week, we try to make something real," Sam explained.  "One time we made fajitas, and they were awesome.  And the name stuck."

"Well, I approve of this Friday night ritual.  Your fajitas are awesome," Kurt agreed, his mouth full.  Blaine wondered if Kurt was comparing this evening to his family's Friday night dinners with his dad in Lima.  He and Sam had continued the tradition with Burt and Carole for most of their senior year, but Blaine hadn't been back to the Hudmel house since Finn's death.  He couldn't help but hope that he'd get another chance to sit at that kitchen table, although it would never be the same.

Sam smiled at Kurt's compliment.  "Thanks, man."  His mood had improved considerably since his nap, and he had brightened even further when Kurt brought out the ingredients for the sangria, happily helping him slice up the lemons and oranges and listening to Kurts description of the various sangria variations he wanted to try, including a white peach recipe that sounded more like a dessert than a drink.  Although the sangria was liberally diluted with seltzer, they were all a little bit buzzed by the time they polished off the last of the fajitas. 

As Kurt was trying to get the pie he bought out of its box without wrecking it, Blaine tried to focus on finding some clean forks, but kept getting distracted by the way Kurt was licking his fingers every time he got a little bit of the pie topping on them.  Blaine was beginning to think it would be easier to forget about getting the darn thing out of the box and just dig in when Sam got up from the table.  "Save me a piece?  Im going for a walk."

"Sam?"  Jolted out of his Kurt and dessert related thoughts, Blaine shot Sam a quizzical look.

"No, its okay.  Ill sleep better if I get some exercise.  And since Im dragging you away next week, the least I can do is give you guys some space now."  Sam grinned and slipped on his sneakers.  "See you later."

Kurt stopped fiddling with the bakery box and came up behind Blaine, resting his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Everything okay with Sam?" 

Blaine sighed and tilted his head back against Kurts.  "Getting there?  We talked some stuff out today, but I think hes still a little out of sorts."  Blaine explained Sams frustration with his nightmares and their plan to find him a therapist in New York. 

"Youre a good friend, Blaine."

If I were a better friend I wouldnt have let it get this bad, Blaine thought to himself.  He shook his head and stood up, unwilling to let his worries ruin their evening.  "Maybe we can save the pie for later, and go cuddle on the couch?"

Kurt smiled and came in close to Blaine, eyes dark and teasing.  "Works for me."

Later, after an extremely enjoyable make-out session that made Blaine feel like he was in high school again - junior year, that is -  Kurt brought over slices of the key lime pie and cups of tea.  "Did Sam say something about dragging you away?"

Of course Kurt waited to ask this question until Blaine had a mouth full of pie.  He chewed, and swallowed, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.  "Were going to his parents in Kentucky for the Fourth of July weekend.  He was worried that I wasnt going to go anymore, but I told him I was."

The look of concern on Kurts face showed that he understood exactly what Sam was worried about.  "Im sorry. Ive been taking up too much of your time...."

"No, no, thats not true."  Blaines stomach flipped and he reached out and grabbed Kurts arm.  "You dont have anything to be sorry about, and Sam would kick the shit out of me for telling you this if made you think so."

"So whyd you tell me?" Kurt said softly.

"I want to be able to tell you everything, Kurt.  I dont want to censor my thoughts with you."  Blaine paused, taking Kurts hand.  "Did you mean it when you said as far as you were concerned, there was nothing I had to hide?  Because I got the feeling that you did."

Kurt nodded solemnly.  "Yeah, I did."  He leaned forward and gave Blaine a gentle kiss, quite a contrast from their heated make-out session just a few minutes before.  "You dont have any actual skeletons in your closet though, right?  Because you know how I feel about horror movies."  Kurt gave an exaggerated shudder.

Blaine chuckled.  "No, no actual skeletons.  But there is something I want to talk about.  It doesnt have to be tonight, I dont want to spring it on you or anything."

"Now I'm nervous again, and I dont think youre talking about the Kurt Through The Years photo album." 

"Dont be nervous."  Blaine scooted close to Kurt and took his hand, looking into his wary blue eyes.  “I am ridiculously happy that you are back in my life.  I really think we can be us again, Kurt.”  He looked at Kurt for confirmation.

“I think so too,” Kurt whispered, swallowing hard.  “But, there's a ‘but' coming, isn't there?”

“Sort of?  Not anything terrible.  I just think we need to talk about our break-up."  Blaine was afraid that Kurt would react as skittishly as he had the last time the subject arose, and if Kurts anxious look was any indication, he wasnt wrong.  But he and Kurt seemed to look back on what happened differently, and he really wanted to figure it out before it became more of a problem. 

Kurt pulled his knees up, practically curled into a ball next to Blaine, but didn't let go of Blaine's hand.  Instead he pulled it on top of his knees, staring at it as if the answer to the world's problems was hidden in the space between Blaine's thumb and forefinger.  "I know we do.  But I kind of wish we didnt."

"How come?"

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and let go of Blaine's hand to wrap his arms around his knees.  "I dont even understand why youre speaking to me anymore."

"Kurt, what are you talking about?"   

"Its like youve magically forgotten what happened between us.  And Im scared that when you remember, youll change your mind about wanting to be with me again."  Kurts voice was rising, his face tightening up as it always did when he was trying not to cry.

"Why would I do that?" Blaine asked gently.  "I really dont think Ive forgotten anything, Kurt. It was a mutual decision to break off the engagement.  You seem to think it was your fault -"

"It was my fault, Blaine, dont you understand?  You were depressed, you were in pain, you were zoned out on medication, your whole life was wrecked, and I abandoned you."  Kurt was shaking now, crying, palms pressed against his face.  

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, knees and all.  This was the heart of the problem, the reason that guilty look flickered across Kurt's face every time the conversation touched on their break up.  "Listen to me, Kurt, you didnt abandon me.  You didnt.  You cant keep thinking that.  I was in bad shape, but I wasnt incapacitated.  You didnt put one over on me, or take advantage, or whatever youre thinking.  I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and I agreed that it was better for us to break up. Neither of us could give the other what we needed.  You didnt do anything to me."

"I should have been there for you.  I should have," Kurt choked out.

"You were, as much as you could be.”  Blaine felt his throat closing up, but he had to make Kurt understand.   “I really do get it, you know.  I wish I had done a better job of being there for you, too.  You needed me too, and I wasnt there for you.  We did what we could at the time.  You have to forgive yourself, Kurt, so we can move on.    Because I know we can.  We can move on together, and we can be happy together.  I don't know how many more chances we're going to get at this, and I don't want us to let this one go.  Please, baby, forgive yourself."

Kurt took a few deep breaths and pulled back, wiping his face on his sleeve.  Blaine loosened his tight grasp, letting his hands move to Kurts arms, catching his gaze.  Kurt looked intently at Blaine, his eyes red.  "Even if I did… do you forgive me?"

Blaine lifted a hand to Kurts cheek and wiped away a leftover tear with his thumb.  "I dont think there is anything to forgive.  But to the extent that there is something to forgive, if you think there is something more, something different you could have done, yes, I forgive you."

Kurt just stared at Blaine for a minute, eyes wide and vulnerable, and then climbed completely into Blaines lap, pressing every part of his body into Blaines. "Can you just hold me here for a while?" Kurt said quietly.  "I feel like Im going to fly away."

"Im never letting you go again, my little blackbird."  Blaine closed his eyes and rested his head on Kurts, breathing him in.  No matter what had happened before, he was going to give Kurt what he needed now.  And he had faith that Kurt was going to do the same for him.  He was terrified, and he was thrilled, and he was Kurts, and that was all there was to it.