September passed in a melancholy blur. Kurt went back to his apartment, doing his best to focus on all the wonderful memories he and Mark had shared, instead of how empty his life seemed now. Whenever he was overwhelmed by loneliness he would show up at Blaine's apartment, but that happened less and less, as the days passed.

October brought colder weather and lots of inspiration for new clothes to make for the boutique, so it wasn't very hard for Kurt to find something to keep himself entertained. Sometimes he got up in the middle of the night to work on a new sketch, when the empty side of the bed seemed to haunt him. Life wasn't perfect, and it would take a very long time before it was, but at least he was handling his pain in a more productive way.

A few of the friends he hadn't seen since the funeral started to call him to meet him for lunch or take him out for a drink. Most of them had kept their distance, wanting to allow him the time and space to get back on his feet, but they thought it was the perfect moment to pop back in and include him in their social outings again.

Some of his best friends from high school were the first to suggest plans to him. Rachel was just as self-centered as she had been at sixteen, but now she was gentler and wiser. She was a fantastic distraction, since she wouldn't stop talking for a single second, so he kept Kurt's head occupied and away from wandering thoughts that had the potential to turn dark and miserable in the blink of an eye. She took him to a couple of Broadway plays followed by dinner at Sardi's where she proudly pointed at her picture on the wall, earned after a very successful stint as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl a few years back. Life was louder and slightly brighter with Rachel in it, even if he ended up with a headache after listening to her talk nonstop for several hours in a row.

Santana paraded back into town ready to cheer Kurt up and make him forget about his sadness. She came and went as she pleased, changing jobs as quickly as she changed sexual partners (Don't make me sound like a slut, Hummel. There's nothing wrong with liking a warm, soft body next to mine in bed a couple of times a week…). Kurt had never truly understood how they had managed to become friends, but maybe they were more alike than he liked to admit.

“Here's the deal, Lady Face. I know you're all sad and depressed right now, but I'm ending that tonight. We're going to go to a bar. We're going to do some shots. I'm going to find you a man who's as pretty as he's dumb, and then you're going to fuck him senseless and kick him out in the morning. Rinse and repeat. You'll forget all about being sad before you can say rimming.”

Or maybe not.

Blaine had practically eaten her alive after that (very heartless) speech. Kurt gaped at her, torn between indignation and horror, but had ended up laughing until he was in tears. Both Blaine and Santana had stared at him in silence for a long time – Blaine completely shocked, Santana smirking smugly.

Once he had managed to stop laughing, Kurt took a deep breath and glared at her. “Don't you ever suggest again that I fuck a random guy to forget about Mark. Now, if that's clear and you're done being such a bitch, I would like to take you up on the first part of your offer and do some shots.”

The hangover that followed the next morning was pretty epic.

So Kurt was still sad. He was still heartbroken. He still missed Mark every day. He still got up in the middle of the night looking for him in bed. He still hugged Blaine extra hard when he felt the pain was choking him.

But he was starting to get by. With a little help from his friends.

*

There were still a lot of really bad days.

Those days, Kurt would rarely get out of bed, and he would lose himself in a haze of memories and tears. He would remember every detail of every day before the wedding – what Mark had done, what he had eaten, if he had seen anyone, if he had gone to the gym, if he had said anything in particular about not feeling well. Kurt would break into pieces every single one of those memories, trying to find the cause for what had ultimately taken Mark away from him.

He never found it, but he kept trying.

Kurt would lie in bed for hours, wondering if there had been anything he could have done, if he had known. He wondered if there had been a way to prevent it. He wished he could go back in time. He drank half a bottle of whiskey and tried to design a time-machine, only to be awakened in the morning with the worst headache of his life and Blaine inexplicably cooking the greasiest breakfast ever in his kitchen.

Those days would usually be filled with doubts and second guesses, with imagined alternatives that would never be certain.

“If only I had known…”

“If he had told me he didn't feel well…”

“Maybe if I had made sure he was eating healthier…”

“Did I stress him out with the wedding? I didn't think I was pushing him too hard. Was I a nightmare?”

The words were uttered towards his dark ceiling in the middle of the night, and by the time morning came, there was a lump in his throat because he didn't know any better than he had the previous night.

*

They were eating dinner at Kurt's apartment one night when Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly, which was usually a sign that he was about to broach a topic he wasn't comfortable with.

“Uhm, I was wondering…” He started, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “Do you need any help packing up Mark's things? I could come over this weekend and we could go through his stuff together…”

Kurt stared at him as if Blaine had grown a second head. “Why would I pack his stuff?”

Blaine blinked in surprise. “Kurt… you have to. At some point.”

“I have enough room in the closet for my clothes without the need to remove his,” Kurt replied stubbornly, eyes focused on his plate.

Blaine bit his lip, as he glanced around the room. “Kurt, you haven't moved a single one of his things. That book on the coffee table has been on that same exact spot since before the wedding…”

“He was reading it. He put it there. I like it there,” Kurt said, shrugging. “Would you like more chicken?”

Blaine licked his lips. He knew what Kurt was doing, and he didn't know if this was one of those things he needed to push or not. He thought he could maybe give it one more try. “I'm not saying you have to get rid of everything, or delete his entire existence in your life, but maybe… I don't know. I've heard it's really good for closure.”

“Well, if you're done eating, then I think I'm going to start with the dishes. It's getting late and I have to get up early tomorrow,” Kurt stood up, gathering their plates and walking towards the kitchen, completely ignoring Blaine. “I'm planning to stop for some fabric, before I go into the boutique. I need the perfect shade of azure blue for an amazing jacket I`m planning…”

“Kurt…”

“Oh! And I didn't show you the new scarf I bought! It's absolutely gorgeous. I need to plan the perfect outfit to wear it with. I'm so glad the weather is getting colder…”

“Kurt, come on…”

“We should go shopping next weekend. I really want to buy some new shoes…”

Blaine swallowed, hating that he was doing this to Kurt. “Kurt, sweetheart… you know that keeping his things around won't bring him back…”

Kurt set the plates down on the counter so forcefully that they shattered. “Fuck,” he muttered, looking down at his hand. Blaine could see the blood from where he was sitting at the table.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” He went into the kitchen immediately and reached for Kurt's hand, examining it and trying to figure out if the cut would need stitches. He was relieved to see it was pretty small and it didn't seem deep at all.

Kurt's eyes were filled with tears as he stared down at his bloody hand. “I need to keep his things, Blaine. I just need to keep them, okay?”

His voice sounded so small and defeated that Blaine didn't have the heart to contradict him. He simply nodded and hurried to clean the cut.

*

Sometimes Blaine's rehearsals ended late. On those days, he would stop by the boutique and pick Kurt up, so they could ride the subway together. They were sitting side by side on the train one night in late October, when Blaine turned to Kurt with an eager smile.

“So… I wanted to ask you,” he started, and Kurt shifted slightly so he could face his best friend. “It's Halloween next week, and we're playing at the usual bar. It's going to be a huge costume party and so much fun…”

“Do you want me to make your costume?” Kurt asked. It wouldn't be the first time that Blaine came up with an idea for a perfect costume for Halloween almost at the last minute – he was like a kid. And Kurt was like a permissive parent – he rarely managed to say no to him, especially not when he looked so excited and adorable.

“No. Yes. I don't know, maybe,” Blaine shrugged. “I don't even know what I'm going to be yet. But… I was hoping you'd want to go with me?”

Kurt frowned, looking down at the satchel on his lap. “I don't know, Blaine… I don't think I'm in a mood for parties this year. Maybe next time?”

“No, hey, come on,” Blaine bumped their shoulders together, and Kurt glanced up at him. He was staring back pleadingly. “Don't shoot me down so quickly. It'll be a lot of fun, and I think you'll have a great time…”

“I'd probably be a bother, more than anything. It's one thing to go out drinking with you and Santana once in a while, but dressing up…” Kurt trailed off, unsure.

“I think it's exactly what you need,” Blaine said thoughtfully, causing Kurt to look back at him. “There's something sort of magical about Halloween, about being allowed to go out there pretending to be someone else. For one night, you get to forget about whatever's going on in your life. You don't have to feel Kurt Hummel's pain. You can be a blood-thirsty vampire, a secret agent in a sharp suit, or even a Power Ranger. You can put life on hold, and just enjoy yourself.”

Kurt remained silent until they got down at their exit. They walked with their arms linked together to Blaine's apartment, and Kurt watched his Doc Marten for a little while, as he thought. “You know, your idea really is appealing…”

“I know! And planning the outfits is the best part. Plus, you get to watch me perform. It's been a while, and you're my greatest fan,” Blaine grinned at him brightly, and damn his beautiful, charming smile, but he had Kurt wrapped around his little finger.

“Alright,” Kurt agreed, still hesitating. “I'll think about it. No promises.” He sighed as Blaine searched for his keys to get into his building. “Not being me for one night does sound nice, actually…”

“And we always look amazing in matching costumes…” Blaine teased, winking at him over his shoulder.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Well, we are one very attractive pair…”

*

The last time they had worn matching Halloween costumes had been a few years back. Kurt, Mark, Blaine, and the guy Blaine had been dating then, Dylan, had dressed as the Ninja Turtles. Dylan hadn't been very excited about the costume – if Kurt wasn't mistaken, he had wanted to be a ‘sexy angel' instead, which had made Kurt arch a judging eyebrow at him. If Kurt also remembered correctly, Blaine had broken up with him the next morning. Dylan had only been one of many douchebags, whiny assholes and completely self-centered idiots that Blaine had had the misfortune to date.

Kurt couldn't understand how someone as wonderful as Blaine could have such a terrible taste in guys.

When Kurt finally accepted to go to Blaine's Halloween gig-slash-party, they had sat down together and brainstormed ideas for costumes. After a bottle of wine and a very large pizza, they had decided to go as Robin Hood and Little John, one of their favorite pairs from one of their favorite Disney movies. It was kind of perfect for them – except for how they couldn't agree on who would get to be Robin.

“I'm smaller, shouldn't I be Robin?” Blaine asked, frowning as he nibbled on the crust of his pizza slice.

The glare Kurt directed at him would have made the bravest man in the world shrink back in fear. “Are you, by any chance, suggesting I'm big, Blaine? You'd better not be calling me fat or we'll end up going as Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman, and you'll be missing your head for real.”

Needless to say, Kurt got to be Robin, and Blaine happily accepted to be Little John.

*

The bar was packed. Kurt was sitting at a table with Betty Boop, a samurai, Marty McFly, and a fireman. It would have been a pretty unreal situation if it hadn't been because absolutely everyone in the bar – the band on stage, the bartenders, even the bouncers outside – were in costume. He could see Blaine standing next to the stage, waiting for his turn to perform. The band currently playing – a very bizarre Britney Spears cover band – was finishing their last song, and Kurt watched Blaine down the rest of his beer quickly and reach for his guitar, which had been propped against the wall next to him.

As he sat there in a table full of dressed-up strangers, Kurt fidgeted with his own drink, waiting for Blaine and his band to take over. He had been so focused on getting their costumes right the last few days, that he hadn't even thought about he was going to spend most of his night on his own as Blaine played. Other years, Mark would have been sitting next to him, with an arm wrapped around his shoulder, if he didn't have to work. Sometimes Kurt, Blaine, and whatever friends had tagged along with them would end up at Mark's restaurant if he couldn't take the night off.

He hadn't meant for his thoughts to wander in that direction. He tried to focus on how brightly Blaine was smiling as he stepped in front of the microphone and stroke a couple of chords on his guitar.

“Hi everyone! Happy Halloween! We're The Work in Progress! And I know our name sucks,” Blaine said, getting closer to the mic and winking at the crowd playfully. “But it's nothing but the plain truth. We hope you enjoy anyway.”

They launched into their first song. Most of the patrons were already drunk or on their way to, and didn't seem to care if the music was good or not (it was). They still danced along and whooped whenever they thought it was appropriate.

Blaine on stage was a force to be reckoned with. He was charming, sexy and inviting. He managed to capture everyone's attention while never pulling all the focus from his band mates. He made everyone feel included, but he shone the brightest, because that was what Blaine Anderson did – he breathed music. He was music, and anyone who heard him sing was immediately captivated.

To be honest, Blaine didn't even have to speak or sing to captivate anyone who met him. His smile was enough to melt ice, and his kind hazel eyes were full of warmth. No one ever managed to resist him – Kurt sure hadn't been able to resist him when they had first met.

Kurt had been a very sad boy when he and Blaine crossed paths for the first time. His high school life was full of disappointments, rejection, and fear, and Blaine had been so friendly, warm and welcoming that he hadn't been able to stop himself from falling helplessly in love with him.

Nothing had ever happened – Blaine had been oblivious for a very long time, and had never shown any signs of liking Kurt back. They had kissed once, right after Blaine's senior year of high school, when Kurt was back home for the summer. They had had a few drinks at a party, and they were feeling loose and careless. Their lips had met before they even knew what they were doing. The kiss had been tender, sweet and perfect – Kurt had marveled at how beautifully they fit together, how their lips slotted flawlessly, sliding against each other and sending shivers down his spine. But as soon as they pulled away, they both laughed and continued on as if nothing had happened.

Kurt never told Blaine he had been helplessly in love with him. It would have ruined the most amazing friendship he had ever had. So he kept quiet and eventually managed to move on.

Mark had been the only man to make him feel as much as Blaine had.

The sweetness of Kurt's drink seemed to turn sour in his mouth. It just a few more weeks, it would be two whole months without Mark, and he still couldn't understand how it was possible for him to keep waking up in a world without the love of his life.

What the hell was he doing, wearing a stupid Halloween costume and sitting amongst people who were free to smile, hold hands and kiss whoever they wanted? He was alone – he was an island in the middle of the ocean, and no one could reach him there. His tether had been cut.

Blaine's eyes met his all the way from the stage.

Kurt tried to smile, but it was too hard. Sometimes pretending didn't work out – not even in a Robin Hood costume.

*

When Blaine joined him at the table, Betty Boop and Marty McFly had left (and Kurt had never thought he would see Marty shoving his tongue down Betty's throat), so Blaine took one of the empty spots.

“You were amazing,” Kurt said with the biggest smile he could muster.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Blaine replied, reaching for Kurt's glass. “What are you drinking? My mouth is so dry, it feels like sandpaper…” He stole a large swig of Kurt's drink before he could even answer, and then turned back to his best friend. “Are you sure you are having a good time? You looked a little distracted there for a while…”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm just…” Kurt shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Reminiscing, I guess.”

Blaine dropped his chin onto Kurt's shoulder and stared right into his eyes. He was sweaty from playing, his dark curls damp and falling onto his forehead messily. He was so freaking handsome that Kurt suddenly felt as if he was going back in time and turning into the boy he had once been. “Hey, we agreed to leave sadness at home tonight, remember? We're having fun. It's Halloween.”

Kurt swallowed and looked away from Blaine's hazel eyes. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm trying.”

Blaine watched him so intensely and he was sitting so close to him, that Kurt couldn't help but fidget a little, feeling completely exposed under his gaze. He knew Blaine was able to read him better than anyone else in the world, even better than his father. It was unnerving sometimes.

Blaine put the drink down on the table with a determined look on his face and slid out of the booth. He offered his hand to Kurt. “Let's go.”

Kurt frowned in confusion but still accepted his hand. “Where are we going? I thought you wanted to stay here with your friends…”

“Oh trust me,” Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt's hand gently. “I'm with the one friend I really want to be with. They'll understand.”

Kurt felt warmth inside, like every time Blaine was being particularly sweet. He truly was deserving of the title of best friend. “You still haven't answered my question, though.”

“Oh, you'll find out soon enough,” Blaine cheekily, tagging him along to make Kurt follow him out of the bar. “Come on!”

It was very cold outside, and Kurt was once again glad he had designed their costumes to protect them against the night chill that ran through New York in the dead of October. He adjusted his hat, making sure the red feather was standing correctly.

He followed Blaine silently for a few blocks, distracted by the strangers walking by in different costumes, internally judging those that weren't well made. He mentally fixed them in his head, although he was particularly benevolent when it came to children's costumes.

He didn't realize Blaine had taken them to a more residential street until he saw that most of the people walking by were actually kids accompanied by parents or older siblings. Blaine climbed the stairs of a brownstone and rang the bell, swaying back and forth on his feet as he waited for the door to open.

“What are you doing? Who lives here?” Kurt asked curiously.

“No idea,” Blaine murmured, and before Kurt could question him further, the door opened and Blaine smiled his brightest smile. “Hello there! Trick or treat!”

The young couple that opened the door was carrying a very large bowl filled with candy. They looked surprised to see Kurt and Blaine standing there, and Kurt gaped at Blaine, blushing. What the hell was he doing?

“Blaine,” he hissed, looking apologetically at the couple. “Don't be silly…”

“No, no, it's fine!” The woman said, smiling at them widely. “You guys look amazing!” She added, as she dropped a few pieces of candy into Blaine's expecting hands, before turning to Kurt.

He hesitated, while Blaine nudged him with his shoulder. “I don't know…”

“Oh please take it,” she insisted kindly. “We bought way too much candy this year. There will be more leftovers than we can actually eat…”

“Okay…” Kurt bit his lip but accepted the candy she was trying to thrust into his hands. “Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome! Happy Halloween!” The man said.

“Happy Halloween!” Blaine exclaimed, already pulling Kurt down the stairs and towards the next house.

“Are you crazy?” Kurt asked, swatting at Blaine's arm. “We're not kids anymore!”

“So what? We can still have fun, right?” He was already biting off the wrapping off a Kit Kat.

Kurt rolled his eyes, but still stood next to him as Blaine knocked on the next door. This house belonged to an adorable old lady that cooed at them and even insisted on pinching Kurt's cheeks. She gave them lots of chocolate bars, and even two pumpkin-shaped bags so they could put all their candy on.

“You two are so cute,” she said, as they waved at her. “Be safe tonight!”

“Yes, ma'am!” Blaine said, tipping his hat at her and almost causing the woman to swoon.

“I'm pretty sure she thought we are a couple,” Kurt said, searching through his bag as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Kurt, she gave me a cookies and cream Hershey's chocolate bar. She can think I'm the president's son if she wants to,” Blaine replied, and Kurt rolled his eyes at him.

They visited every single house in that block, and few more in the next. Only three houses refused to give them candy because they weren't children. A girl in a Cat Woman costume tried flirting with Blaine and bribing him with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to get him to go with her to whatever party she was heading to, and a half-naked police officer told Kurt he had a search warrant with his name on it in a very suggestive tone of voice.

It was a very eventful night.

Later, they headed back home on the subway, sitting close together, sandwiched between Tina Turner and one of the Village People. They were looking through their candy bags, surprised at how well they had actually done.

“I'll give you my Kit Kats if you give me your Skittles,” Kurt said, and Blaine handed the Skittles over. Kurt opened the bag and popped a few red Skittles into his mouth. He watched Blaine, knowing he was mentally cataloguing all his candy by type, something he did since he was a little kid and his brother took him around the neighborhood trick or treating. He always put his Snickers aside, saving them for Cooper, even though they didn't see each other even remotely as much as Blaine wished they did. Kurt wrapped his arms around one of Blaine's and dropped his head on his shoulder, tickling his cheek with the feather in his hat. He sighed. “Thank you so much for tonight. I had a lot of fun, and you were amazing, both at the bar and after.”

Blaine kissed his forehead. “Are you saying that to get me to hand over my gummy bears?” He teased playfully.

Kurt nuzzled tiredly against the curve of his neck, feeling a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “I love you.”

Blaine smiled too, and Kurt could feel it where his lips were still pressed against his forehead. “I love you, too.”

*

On Sunday, Blaine stopped by one of their favorite coffee shops and got Kurt's favorite chai latte before heading to his best friend's apartment. They hadn't made plans per se, but Blaine thought maybe he could convince him to head down to 42nd street and watch a matinee show together.

However, as soon as he entered the apartment, he found Kurt surrounded by piles of clothes and cardboard boxes. His eyes were slightly red, but he wasn't crying, at least not anymore. Blaine dropped his keys on the bowl by the door and walked slowly into the living room.

“Kurt?” He called, because his friend hadn't seemed to notice he was there yet.

Kurt looked up, surprised. “Oh, hey,” he said in a soft voice, though he managed to smile at him.

“Hey. I got you some tea,” Blaine put it down on the coffee table before sitting down on the floor next to him. “What are you up to?”

“I'm sorting through Mark's stuff,” he replied quietly, and he looked proud when his voice didn't crack on his fiancé's name. “There are tons of clothes he hadn't worn in ages. I think I'm going to donate them somewhere. I'm sure someone will find a better use for them…”

Blaine placed his hand on top of Kurt's. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, his hazel eyes searching in Kurt's blue ones. “I know I told you that you needed to do this at some point, but if you're not ready…”

“No, you were right,” Kurt muttered, carefully folding a white dress shirt. “It's just stuff. It's not him. And I can't keep pretending to be someone else, or to hope that by keeping his things around something will magically change. A bunch of shirts and pants aren't going to magically bring him back. Nothing will.” He placed the shirt into a box labeled ‘donations'. “I think, deep down inside, I was wishing for something magical to happen. I was a fool.”

“You're not a fool,” Blaine reassured him. “There's nothing wrong with that. You miss him. You can't help it.”

Kurt shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and failing completely. “I guess.”

Blaine looked around at the piles of clothes. “Do you need any help?” He offered. “If you want to be alone for this, I can give you some time.”

“No, stay. Please,” Kurt squeezed his hand.

“Of course,” Blaine settled more comfortably and reached for a red sweater. When he unfolded it, he discovered it had a huge reindeer with a Santa hat on and big, red nose that sparkled. “Oh my god.”

Kurt actually laughed when he saw it. “He hated that sweater,” he said, reaching for it. “His mother got him for him years ago and insisted that he wear it every single Christmas. It was torture for him. And for me. I couldn't even kiss him when he was wearing it. He kind of turned it into a game – he would fill every single corner with mistletoe, or catch me off guard.” He ran a hand down the thick, red wool, smile turning gentler. “I think his mom would love to have it…” He put it into another box, labeled ‘Martha'. It was the first item he put into it.

They went through all the clothes and Kurt had anecdotes for a good amount of them. He laughed and cried, and slowly filled each of the boxes, but Blaine could see it was therapeutic for him. He decided to keep Mark's college hoodie; his uniform from the first restaurant he had worked at, because it had been so precious to Mark; the sweater Mark had worn for their first date, and the shirt he was wearing when he proposed.

Blaine sat next to him patiently, offering support whenever Kurt needed it, listening to every story, and allowing Kurt to have a moment when he remembered something that was particularly emotional. They got through it together, like many other moments in each other's lives – they had learned that there was nothing they couldn't overcome if they had each other's backs.

Afterwards, they sat on the couch, looking at the full boxes stacked against the living room wall. Kurt was tucked against Blaine's side, spent but feeling a little lighter. Blaine pressed a kiss to his temple – a silent reminder that he was right there – and hoped that this was the first step towards true recovery.

*