The ride in the bus was somewhat tense. Kurt was the only other passenger apart from an old lady at the far end and it would have been way too suspicious to talk to Blaine in that situation. Still, even despite the lack of conversation Kurt noticed that Blaine seemed to draw in on himself more and more as they approached Westerville. He wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly but he wasn't sure he'd have dared to even if they'd been on their own. Hating his helplessness in this situation, Kurt forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

Of course Kurt couldn't just walk in through the front door and ask the Andersons if they wanted to have a chat with their dead son Ghost Whisperer style. He was pretty sure that wouldn't go over well. So he'd have to find a hiding place with a good view and give Blaine some time - and probably moral support - to just go inside and take a look at everything. Preferably where no one would hear or see him so he could talk to Blaine when he got back.

With a sigh, Kurt turned his head and stared out of the window at the passing landscape, not seeing anything. He really wasn't looking forward to this. There was no way this could be anything but painful for everyone involved - except for the Andersons maybe, as they probably wouldn't be aware of what was happening. Still. If this worked, Blaine would be one step closer to moving on, meaning that simultaneously, Kurt would be closer to losing him for good. If it didn't work, it would probably break Blaine's heart and Kurt wasn't sure he would handle Blaine's tears any better than Blaine's joy at disappearing out of this world. Kurt's world.

After what felt like an eternity, the bus finally came to a halt at the stop they were supposed to get out. With a heavy heart, Kurt descended the few stairs and looked at the neighborhood that stretched before him. The houses were pretty large, elegant miniature mansions with well-kept front gardens and impressive driveways. It wasn't exactly what Kurt had expected but he had to admit he wasn't too surprised. Blaine's impeccable manners had had him assume that his family probably was well off.

The sound of the bus driving away registered soon after and Kurt quickly made sure no one was around before he turned to Blaine. The sight in front of him wasn't a very reassuring one. Blaine looked about to run for his life or like he might pass out or throw up (though as far as Kurt was aware that wasn't exactly an option for him anymore). He was shaking all over and his hazel eyes were so wide Kurt feared they might pop out of his head.

"Blaine? Are you okay?" Kurt felt like an idiot the minute the words left his mouth. It was pretty obvious that Blaine was anything but okay. But he didn't know what else to say.

"Y-yes. I-I'm fine, Kurt. I'm fine. I can do that," Blaine stuttered, voice getting higher with every word, his panic written all over his face.

"Hey," Kurt murmured softly, unconsciously grabbing Blaine's hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "You'll be fine. It's going to be okay, trust me. I'm here for you if you need me. But I think you need to do this and we both know it. Come on."

For a minute, Blaine just stared at their intertwined hands. Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded once, squeezing Kurt's hand briefly before leading him to the house at the very end of the row. Thankfully, it was right next to a group of trees that would make an ideal hiding place for Kurt. Blaine stopped dead when they made to pass his former home, just staring at it unseeingly for a bit. After a while, he shook himself out of his trance and pulled Kurt over to the trees.

"You should be fine over here," he explained while looking around to make sure no one would see them. "The living room has a really good view out back, you should be able to see something through the windows. Are you sure you'll be okay out here on your own?"

Kurt just rolled his eyes at him. "Blaine. This isn't about me, this is about you. It doesn't matter if I'm okay out here. I'll be fine. Go in there, you need that." He gently pushed Blaine in direction of the house, smiling encouragingly. Inside, he felt just as anxious as Blaine himself but he wasn't about to let him know that. With one last, unsure look over his shoulder, Blaine took a deep breath and stepped through the wall.

The next few minutes could just as well have been hours. Kurt stared at the tall windows facing in his direction, hoping to finally see someone. After what seemed like an eternity, a petite woman entered the living room, carrying a vase full of pink lilies. She looked so much like Blaine - except for the triangular eyebrows - it was obvious she had to be his mother. She carried herself with grace. As she crossed the room, Kurt could see that she was wearing the most gorgeous - and probably the most expensive - high heels he'd ever seen someone wear in real life, along with a dress right from the pages of Vogue. It was more than obvious, if it hadn't been from the looks of the house itself, that the Andersons had money. And lots of it.

That didn't seem to make her particularly happy, though. Her expression was so sad and resigned it broke Kurt's heart. The lines around her mouth told him that it had been a while since she'd smiled last. He watched as she carried the flowers over to the mantelpiece and carefully arranged them. It took him a minute to notice the photo of Blaine she'd placed them under.

Kurt swallowed hard, forcing his eyes away from the pain in her eyes he could see even from this distance to look for Blaine. It didn't take long to find him. He was standing maybe two steps behind his mother, his expression as he watched her so heartbroken Kurt wanted nothing more than to run into that living room, hug him and tell him everything would be okay.

Before he could do anything else but stand there mesmerized and watch the display of heartbreak and grief in front of him, though, a man that clearly had to be Blaine's father - now Kurt knew where the eyebrows came from - stepped into the room, crossing it in long strides and pulling his wife into his arms. She buried her head into his shoulder, shaking with what Kurt supposed were sobs, while her husband just stared at the picture, a faraway look in his blue eyes - so unlike Blaine's and still somewhat similar. They stood like that for a while, until Blaine's father couldn't take it anymore and pressed a kiss to his wife's head, slowly guiding her out of the room.

This whole time, Blaine had been standing right behind them, tears of his own streaming down his cheeks, falling to the floor without having any impact whatsoever. His hand had reached out when his mother had started to cry, hovering uselessly in the air, so close to touching but still so very far away from any form of contact. When his father had come in, he'd gone stiff at first but after seeing the same pain on his face, the tears had just started to fall faster and the hand still reaching out to them had begun to tremble, though he never lowered it.

Kurt hadn't even noticed the tears running down his own cheeks until he became increasingly aware of them when Blaine at last turned away from where he'd been staring at the spot his parents had stood in, hand still stretched out. There was nothing he could do about it by then, so he just waited until Blaine had stepped into the shadows of the tree before pulling him into a tight embrace, just holding him as he cried into his neck. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, meaningless phrases like ‘it'll be okay' and ‘they'll be fine'. But they didn't feel like the right thing to say, so not knowing what else to do he just rubbed Blaine's back soothingly until the sobs quieted down and he pulled away.

They sank down to the floor next to each other, Blaine leaning on Kurt. The silence stretched until Kurt was sure one of them should have said something by now when Blaine finally spoke. "I forgot that it's been eleven years." His voice was raspy from all the crying and there was so much sadness in it it broke Kurt's heart all over again.

"Eleven years since what?" Kurt asked carefully.

"Since I died. It's... It's been eleven years to the day. Today is the anniversary of my death, Kurt." 

Before he knew it, Blaine was in his arms again, the tears running once more. "Do you- do you want to leave?" Kurt's voice wavered, tears of his own starting to fall. Blaine just shook his head and they stayed like that for hours. When it started to get dark, Kurt gently nudged Blaine's shoulder, whispering that he had to leave if he didn't want to make his Dad worry. Blaine just nodded and got up, his eyes so blank and expressionless it hurt Kurt's very soul to look into them for too long. He couldn't help but feel that maybe this hadn't been a very good idea. Nothing that put that look into Blaine's normally so vivid and beautiful eyes could be positive.

The ride back was even more tense. Kurt felt so unbelievably guilty for causing Blaine that kind of pain - any kind of pain, actually - but there was nothing he could do about it now. When the bus finally arrived at its destination Kurt got out quickly, waiting for it to drive on so he could talk to Blaine. It turned out he shouldn't have bothered.

"Blaine, I-" he started once they were alone, but Blaine just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I just... I can't talk about this right now. I think I need some time to myself..." he murmured, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

"Oh. Oh, of course. I... I'll see you on Monday?" His voice sounded unsure even to his own ears.

"Of course," Blaine said, nodding to the floor. Not looking back, he turned around and disappeared into the night, Kurt's tears drawing patterns on his driveway.