“NO!” Kurt screamed. “Cooper don't!” Despite Kurt's desperate cries, Cooper still ran out from where they were hiding. The boys were told to stay put until given orders. They were placed in a small cove of bushes, watching their fellow soldiers be slain. The tactic was to wait until the enemy army had moved in front of them and then attack them from behind. Of course this meant that the enemy army would plow through fellow soldiers. Cooper couldn't take it. He ran out before the call was made. Because of his advantage of being behind and unsuspected, Cooper was able to kill a few enemies before he himself was killed.

Kurt couldn't help him. Kurt was frozen to his post. He watched as his friend cried out in agony, bleeding to death. Cooper yelled his brother's name and whispered, “Blaine I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you,” and as those words were uttered, the older Anderson took his last breath.

“Kurt! Wake up!”

What? Kurt opened his eyes. A curly haired boy came into focus. Turning his head, he saw the room in disarray: blankets thrown in every direction. He was drenched in sweat. It was a dream, a memory. “Kurt are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Kurt looked up at Blaine. He ran a hand through Blaine's curls, they were so much like Cooper's before he chopped them off. Then all at once Kurt burst into tears and pulled Blaine into his lap. “I'm so sorry Blaine. I'm so sorry,” he whispered in Blaine's ear.

“Why? Kurt you didn't do anything?”

“I didn't help him. I could've helped him.”

“Didn't help who? Oh,” then Blaine understood. Kurt was talking about his brother.

“I should go,” Kurt stated and he started to get up.

“No, Kurt, wait,” Blaine stopped him. “I'm sure you couldn't have done anything.”

“You don't know that!” Kurt yelled. He was on the verge of hysterics.

“Yes I do,” by this point Blaine had moved off of Kurt's lap but he grabbed his hand and rubbed over it soothingly. “I wasn't there, that's true. I have no idea what it's like to be in combat. I do know, that you're supposed to follow orders. You were just following orders, weren't you?” Blaine asked this and looked into Kurt's eyes.

Kurt saw those beautiful brown eyes, and in them he didn't see anger. “Yeah, but-”

“No. You couldn't have done anything. Honey you've got to work through this. Guilt is unhealthy. I miss my brother, I really do! But he isn't coming back, so please don't spend time wondering if you could've changed the outcome.”

Kurt nodded, then he let his head down. He was exhausted even though he'd just woken up. Blaine rubbed a hand up and down Kurt's back. For a moment he thought Kurt had fallen asleep again but then he heard the taller boy speak. “He called for you,” Kurt started. He choked on emotion but he was determined to tell Blaine how much his brother loved him and wanted to see him again.

“What do you mean?”

“When he was lying there...he called for you and he said that he was sorry,” Kurt paused for a moment and sniffled. “He said that he wanted to make it back to you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He loved you so much Blaine. His only personal belonging was a photo of the two of you when you were little. He never shut up about you when we were in camp. Neither he nor I liked to drink so we spent the evenings talking about home. He always talked about his talented little brother who was going to be a Broadway star. He said I reminded him of you. I don't see how that could be though. You're wonderful and I'm, well, broken. Perhaps it was the showtunes I would sing in the beginning days, you know before they got dark.”

“You're not broken Kurt,” Blaine interrupted his soliloquy. “Maybe a little cracked but that's understandable.” Blaine rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder so his nose was touching Kurt's cheek. They sat like that for a few moments before Blaine spoke again. “Showtunes huh?”

Kurt chuckled. He pulled away from Blaine and explained, “Yeah. You know how I wanted to be on Broadway someday? When I was first drafted I was determined to keep my voice in good condition so I sang every morning. Anything from Moulin Rouge to West Side Story. As the days dwindled on it got harder and harder to keep singing. Cooper died three months before we were going to be released. After his death, I couldn't bring myself to sing anymore.”

“God he hated it when I sang show tunes around the house.”

“He sang with me sometimes. He said that if he closed his eyes and didn't really focus on my voice, he thought he was sitting back home.”

A fresh batch of tears sprung into Blaine's eyes but he was not going to let them fall. “Why don't you get in the shower. Then we will go out into the city. You've mentioned Broadway a few times now, well I have a small part in an upcoming show so I thought you might like to see the stage?”

“That would be incredible!” After their plans were made Kurt showered and borrowed another set of Cooper's clothes, then they were off to see the city. Kurt wasn't bothered by all the noise. Quiet always meant something was wrong, and there was never quiet in New York City. Blaine showed Kurt the stage and for just a moment, Kurt forgot about the war, about his recent battles, and remembered how he felt while he was in high school.

“So, still think you want to be up here?” Blaine asked. They were standing in the middle of a huge stage. Kurt had dreamed of this for so long.

“No,” Kurt answered. Not only did he surprise Blaine with his answer, but also himself. “I, um,” but Kurt didn't know what to say.

“It's okay Kurt. You have time to find a dream.”

“I want to write. I wrote a lot while I was away and it was my escape. I want to provide somebody with an escape.” Kurt decided. Blaine gave him a soft smile.

“Well, then, let's go buy some paper.”