The Proper Way to Lay It Out There

So this is it. This is where I've been leading you. Everything will be pretty much out in the open after you read this. I'll be honest, though, writing this one sucked. There's really nothing I could possibly say to accurately describe the things I felt. I did my best I guess…

Eventually Carole came to put a hand on Burt's shoulder. "We need to go inside. I relocated Everly's shoulder, but she's still unconscious and I need you to help Finn take her inside."

Burt didn't move. He didn't speak either.

"Burt," Carole said softly. "Please. Logan needs stitches and I can't help her until everyone is inside."

Burt turned and walked off without a word to where Finn was gathering Everly in his arms with Logan's help. I noticed for the first time that half of her face was covered in blood that was seeping out of a deep cut on her forehead.

Once Burt was gone, Carole turned to Kurt and took him into her arms. He was even more unresponsive than his father had been, but Carole obviously didn't mind. She kissed his check and ran her fingers through his hair in that way that only a mother can. "He'll be okay, sweetheart," she soothed. Kurt leaned heavily against her with his arms dangling at his sides.

"Come on, honey. Let's go inside and you can sit down." She tried to urge him towards the house, but he wouldn't go.

I didn't do anything to help.

Cooper was the one to step forward. He was the one to put a hand on Carole's wrist and tell her, "It's okay. I got him." Cooper was the one who picked Kurt up like a little boy and Cooper was the one who Kurt clung to with tight arms and legs. It was Cooper's neck that Kurt buried his face in, and Cooper was the one to run a comforting hand up and down Kurt's back.

I did nothing.

As the three of them started to walk away from me, Santana slid her hand in mine and slotted our fingers together. She pulled me forward, forced me to follow. "Don't shut down."

Carole led everyone into the living room, where we found Everly already stretched out over the longest couch. It was obvious from the way that she was arranged too perfectly that she was unconscious.

Carole didn't pay her any mind, though. Instead she forced Logan into the loveseat and sent Finn to get supplies. He returned with a metal first-aid kit (the contents of which were a lot more impressive than your typical first-aid kit given that Carole was an NP) and a towel.

No one spoke as Carole carefully disinfected and then cleaned Logan's cut. Finn looked away when Carole started to sew the stitches in. Logan kept her eyes on Everly the entire time. About five stitches in, Carole looked at her watch and then asked someone to hold the needle for her while she checked Everly's breathing and pulse. Santana did the holding. Brittany stood by her side and hummed an upbeat song that was completely out of place in the stifling air.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Logan asked in a small voice.

Carole released Everly's wrist and went back to Logan to reclaim the needle from Santana. "She hasn't been out for very long, so I'm not worried," Carole said gently. "Her vitals haven't shown any difference from the last time I checked—and they were okay to begin with—so she's stable for now. If anything changes, we'll call an ambulance right away."

"She hit so hard…"

Carole said nothing to that and sewed the last of the stitches in silence. When she was done, she began reaching for Logan's arm. "Let me see the cut on your arm again, please." Logan didn't respond to Carole's request, but Carole was already turning the arm with gentle hands. "This isn't as bad as I thought it was," she muttered to herself. "I'll just bandage it." She began cleaning the cut.

Again there was silence. Santana was still holding my hand. I refused to look at Kurt, who was still seeking his comfort from Cooper as if they had known each other all their lives.

After a few more quiet minutes, Burt spoke up for the first time from his place in the doorway of the room's only exit. "What do we do if she's not awake by tomorrow?"

"If she's still unconscious in another five hours then we'll have to take her to the hospital," Carole answered without stopping what she was doing.

"SIIPA will send someone to investigate."

Carole sighed. "What else would you have me do, Burt? If she needs medical care that I can't give her then we have to take her in."

"I know that," Burt said tightly. "But we can't afford for any of them to get too close and that will be exactly what happens when they start asking questions. And speaking of questions, I want to know what the hell is going on."

"Burt," Carole started.

"No," Burt said, holding out a hand. "Carole—can you just—okay? I need answers and somebody had better start talking."

I decided to bypass complacent and crash right into confrontational. "You can't tell SIIPA anything about what happened here."

Burt pressed his lips into a thin line. "You don't get a say in what this family does or doesn't do. What you get to do is sit there and answer any questions I've got for you."

I met his hard stare, reminding myself that he was the one who would decide whether or not Cooper and Brittany could stay. "Fine."

Burt didn't waste any time. "Have you told your father anything about my son?"

"No," I said tightly, offended that he would even ask, though of course he didn't know me well enough not to ask.

"Why?"

Ha was all authority and protection wrapped up in a burly package of don't fuck with me. Worse, he was staring at me with eyes that made me feel like a little fucking kid. Which was probably why I started acting like one. "What does it matter why? I just didn't."

"Not good enough. It's your word and nothing else. And just in case it's not clear, you're not leaving this house unless you do a damn good job of convincing me that you kept your mouth shut. And that you'll continue to keep it shut."

Carole huffed. "Burt."

Burt squared his jaw and folded his arms across his chest, not taking it back.

I looked into the eyes of the man who thought he knew everything about me and glared. "The only thing I would ever willingly say to my father is 'go fuck yourself,'" I said through my teeth.

His eyebrows shot up, but his surprise quickly turned calculative and suspicious. "Pretty strong words for the man who raised you."

My stomach clenched. My relationship with my father wasn't, and never would be (I told myself) any of Burt's business. I shrugged and said nothing.

He continued to press. "If you hate him so much, why do work with him?"

"I work for him," I snapped. There was a difference.

"Fine. Why do you work for him, then?"

"He did it for me," Cooper spoke up. "In exchange for visitation rights."

Burt looked at Cooper and then slowly slid his gaze to Kurt. Silently, Burt studied the way Kurt was still pressed against Cooper's side and staring at the floor with vacuous eyes. Burt didn't say anything even though it was pretty obvious that he wanted to.

After a quick blink to dispel the regret in his eyes, Burt turned his attention back to Cooper. "And who are you?"

"I'm Cooper. Blaine's brother."

Burt's face remained carefully impassive. "Why did he need visitation rights to see you?"

Cooper glanced at me and then looked back at Burt. "I was in a D5 facility."

Burt's mouth fell open.

Cooper kept talking. "The one in Dayton. I've been there—I mean, I was there—for over nine years."

Burt shook his head, clearly having trouble. "You got released?"

"…Not exactly."

"What hell does that mean?"

"I escaped."

Burt scoffed. "That's impossible."

"That's what I thought."

"How?"

"I…" Cooper hesitated. "I don't know. She was just…" he looked over at a still humming Brittany. "She was just there and then... I don't know. We were somewhere else and my head was splitting open and then Kurt was there and he…"

"Kurt what?" Burt urged.

"He took the voices away, he…" Cooper trailed off and back peddled. "Sorry. I'm... I can't focus very well. One of my D5 classifications was for psychic ability. Mind hearing."

Burt didn't comment on Kurt's involvement, but the protruding vein in his neck made it pretty obvious that he didn't take it as good new. "Clearly that classification no longer applies or you would be curled up in a corner right now."

Cooper didn't deny it. I wanted to ring Burt Hummel's neck.

"Jesus," Burt whispered. He ran a hand over his face. "You said one of your classifications."

"The other is for telekinesis."

"Which you clearly still have." Burt looked pointedly at Everly.

"I'm sorry," Cooper whispered. "I… she had a gun pointed at Blaine's head."

"Which wouldn't have happened if he hadn't taken my son."

My rage bubbled up at that and was silenced just as fast when Santana dug her nails into the back of my hand. The desire to argue fell flat with the desperate and determined look in her eyes that reminded me that this wasn't just for Cooper. This is for Brittany too, her eyes told me, so don't say anything to fuck it up.

"I think I'm understanding this better now," Burt thought out loud. "You need a place to hide. Kurt brought you here because he knows that this is the only place that you can hide, and things just got real simple for everyone." His eyes were back on me. "You keep my son's secret and I'll keep yours."

"You're blackmailing teenagers now, Burt?" Logan asked from where she was still sitting with Carole kneeling in front of her. Her voice was wrong, though—dead, unfocused.

"Do you really think now is the time?" Burt snapped at her, and for a second he wasn't a tough father with all the answers, but a desperate man who had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

Logan was hardly paying him any mind, though. Her tired eyes were on Everly and I wondered why she had commented at all.

Before anyone could say anything else, though, Kurt stood up out of nowhere and walked out of the living room. No one stopped him, not one looked at him directly, though we all watched him from the corner of our eyes.

Burt stayed quiet after that. Logan was finally given the okay from Carole to move, and she went to sit on the floor next to the couch where Everly was. It made me think back to what felt like a million years ago when Kurt had curled into a similar position and stayed with me all night long just because.

Eventually everyone just sort of went places, and soon we all fell asleep one by one propped up against whatever we could find. Nothing was resolved and everything was all confused and still up in the air. The last thing I thought about before I gave up on trying to keep my eyes open was how hallow I felt inside when I thought about Kurt.

Waking up after a night like that is a pretty shitty process. Basically, you feel like sleeping was a colossal waste of time—You're still tired as fuck, the day doesn't seem any newer than it had before you fell asleep, and confusion that chews at your body like a burning itch you can't scratch is a complete bitch. Uncomfortable doesn't even begin to describe a feeling like that, and saying it sucks is a massive understatement, but 'it sucks' is about all I've got.

But anyway, that was how I woke up: confused with a migraine.

I looked around. Cooper, Brittany, and Bitches were all still propped up against the back of the couch, sleeping. Carole wasn't in the room, and neither was Everly or Logan. Burt was sleeping with a deep frown on his face where he sat propped up in a chair that did its best to keep us all trapped. Finn was sprawled out snoring on the floor. Small beams of light broke through the gaps between the curtains, sunny and too happy for the reality I had woken up to.

I was on my feet before I had time to think about it. I squeezed passed Burt's attempt at creating a blockade with his massive chair and made my way to the stairs. I was in Kurt's room in less than a minute, not bothering to knock.

I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I was going to say, or what I was going to find. I didn't know whether I wanted him to be awake or sleeping. I didn't know too much of anything, but I did know that once his sad blue eyes were on mine that he was more than a little broken. The despair was there in his eyes for me to see and he didn't look away to spare me from having to see it.

We were still for a while—him sitting with his back against the headboard and me standing just a few steps beyond the doorway. The minutes dragged by us until that first minute was too far away to remember and I felt like I had been staring into Kurt's empty eyes for days.

Then the words came from nowhere and fell out.

"I don't know what to say to you," I told him.

He looked at me and said nothing.

More words fell. "I shared everything with you."

Still nothing.

"You were supposed to be the one honest thing in my life."

He was supposed to be my rock, but looking at him then, he reminded me of a browning sponge that had seen better days. And I know I was being selfish by going in there and throwing out accusations when he was so obviously dying inside, but I felt like I was dying too, and his secrets scared me. There was something terrible lurking inside the walls of their house, and inside each and every one of them—I could feel it. I could see it written all over Kurt's face.

"And you're not," I continued. "You're just like every other dishonest person I've ever met." He didn't so much as flinch at the words.

Then I took a chance. "But I still just want to hold you and be close to you until I can fall asleep again."

He wanted it too. I could tell by that small spark of something that lit up his eyes—barely discernible, but definitely still there.

So that was what we did. I walked over to his bed and we held each other even though it didn't make anything any better. For the second time, I fell asleep.

When I woke up Kurt was gone and I didn't know how to feel about it. I wanted him back, but at the same time, I was glad he wasn't there. His absence allowed me to lay there minute after minute and breathe him in as deeply as my lungs would allow without having his body and his sad eyes there to distract me from healing myself just a little bit with his phantom presence.

I forgot all about the unresolved shit that was piled up downstairs, forgot about Cooper and Brittany and Santana. I didn't think about where Kurt was, or if he was still as broken as he had been before, or if Burt was still guarding all the exits, or whether Everly was taken to the hospital or not. All I thought about was that Not-There-Kurt smelled really good and that all of the problems and lies that I didn't want to face were Future-Blaine's problems.

Carole interrupted my vegetable state with a soft knock at the door that was obviously meant to announce her arrival rather than ask for permission to enter.

She gave me a tired smile as she stepped inside and then shut the door behind her. "Can I talk to you for a minute," she asked as she sat down in the desk chair by the bed. She continued to talk without waiting for an answer. "I want to talk about something that's none of my business and probably not my place to discuss with you. But Kurt has his difficulties communicating and Burt is… well, Burt won't do it. We'll just leave it at that.

"I don't know too much about Elizabeth—Kurt's mom, I mean. I know a few really simple things like she was a great mom and she loved Kurt more than anything else and that Kurt returned those feelings, and still does. I also know more complicated things like she had cancer twice and that she had the ability to control people's minds." Carole paused, visibly thinking as she mulled over what she wanted to say. "When she had cancer the first time, she and Burt discovered that using her ability made her sicker. So she stopped using it, I guess, though Burt never told me what exactly she used it for. Anyway, the point is that when she stopped using it completely, she got better, so she continued to avoid using it. Long story short, she beat the cancer—it was brain cancer, by the way—and she and Burt continued on with their lives. Then she got pregnant with Kurt.

"Now, I don't have any experience with this firsthand, so I can't pretend to really understand what must have been going through her mind, but I guess getting pregnant when you have an ability is something of a gamble. Your child could be completely normal, could have an ability that was no big deal, or could have an ability that resulted in SIIPA taking your baby away minutes after you held him in your arms. Elizabeth knew this, of course. Burt did not.

"He knew the basics, such as how the D-Classifications worked, but not how they were determined or when. Why would he? He didn't have an ability, and Elizabeth was the only person he knew who did. So when an agent came in after the delivery to give Kurt his classification, Burt had no idea what was going on—especially when the agent classified Kurt as a D5 with a PC. Like I said, Burt knew all about the D-classifications, but for whatever reason, Elizabeth never told him what a PC was. She might not have believed in it herself, it might have just never come up. Either way, I'm assuming you know what it means?"

I had to swallow a couple times before I answered her question. "Someone who carries the preternatural genes that could potentially result in finding a cure."

I'll interject here. I haven't mentioned PCs before and maybe I should have. Basically, in the preternatural community, Pcs are kind of a taboo subject surrounded by conspiracy theories, denial, and confusion—the reason for this being that most people don't want to entertain the possibility that there are people stockpiled in some top secret facility as lab rats. That's exactly what PCs are, though—lab rats trapped in underground testing facilities who no longer exist in the outside world. Once they're taken by SIIPA, scientists damn near fry their brains in attempt to find 'the cure.'

At the time my conversation with Carole was happening, I knew about PCs. I knew what they were and, unlike most people, I knew that it was a real classification and not just something adults whisper about behind cupped hands or the bullshit stories kids tell sleepovers to see if someone will get scared enough to wet the bed.

I knew that people were taken to a testing facility and that they would spend the rest of their lives there. That was all I knew. My father wasn't exactly a chatty person and he sure as shit didn't talk about the top secret inner workings of SIIPA with me, so I had no way of knowing for sure that the PC facilities were as bad as the rumors said they were. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have my suspicions.

I knew my father was capable of some really terrible shit. I had always known it. But I guess knowing someone is evil doesn't mean that you accept that they are. I didn't want to think about how bad things could be. My father's involvement with PC testing was just something I never allowed myself to think too much about—but Carole's face back then said it all, and I knew then that the blinders I had on were about to get ripped off my eyes.

Back to the story now…

Carole nodded at my answer. "Right. Kurt has two classifications. Burt told me that Kurt's inability to tell the truth is called Preternatural Conditioning, which I guess is a D1 classification. His D5 classification is the ability to manipulate abilities. He can take them away completely, make them stronger, or weaken them. Burt thinks that maybe your father was looking for a way to give an ability to someone who is otherwise normal. We don't know whether Kurt can actually do that, but there is a chance that he can. Basically, Kurt is a once in a lifetime find. So, of course the agent insisted on taking Kurt with him. Not surprising, Elizabeth used her ability to convince him that Kurt had been born completely 'normal' and didn't have any sort of preternatural ability whatsoever. The agent left and Burt and Elizabeth took their baby home. Later that night Elizabeth explained what happened. Burt was angry that she lied, but he couldn't be angry at her for protecting Kurt—he was their little boy. So, once again, they continued on with their lives.

"Then the Re-Classification Act was passed. This happened in 2002, which means that you would have been about seven or eight, so I'm not sure if you were too young to remember it."

I did. Pretty clearly, actually. My father had been very excited about it. He had been coming home every night in a great mood, which I used to my advantage to get him to tell me small details of how Cooper was doing. At the time, Cooper had been in the D5 facility for about six months, and I had been desperate to hear anything about him, even if it was just a gruff, "He's fine. But don't worry about him right now, Blaine, you need to pay attention. If this thing gets passed, it will change the entire way that we operate."

And it did. The Re-Classification Act gave SIIPA the right to test minors while they were in school without their parents' knowledge or permission. Basically, an agent was sent to every school in the country, and under the guise of routine eye exams and hearing tests, they would check each student to determine whether they had been misclassified or not.

When the test was complete, the students were sent back to class and permitted to return home regardless of the results, not knowing that SIIPA might show up at their house in the middle of the night to cart them off.

"I remember," I told her, and Carole nodded and continued with her story, though now I could see where it was going.

"Kurt was re-classified without Elizabeth there to protect him and that night your father showed up with an armed team of agents."

I knew it was coming, but my insides still reacted harshly and caved. My father was obsessed with the cure—of course he went that night. And I remembered what happened when he got home. "January 22, 2002. It was a Tuesday."

Carole frowned. "What—?"

But I was on autopilot. "He came home so happy that night. He said that he finally found it—a way to control our abilities. He said that a little boy would help him do it."

I could remember the manic expression on his face as he held tight to my sounders and shook me.

"Don't you understand what this means for us, Blaine? What it means for me? I'll be able to control abilities. I'll be able to do anything I want. I'll finally get to—"

"Will I get Cooper back?"

He frowned and blinked some clarity back into his eyes. "What?"

"If the little boy helps you control the abilities," I told him slowly, giving him time to focus on what I was saying instead of the deranged excitement firing off in his addled brain. "Can I have Cooper back then?"

It took him a few seconds. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. Go to your room, alright? I'm busy right now."

The memory ghosted its way along the line that separated my conscious and unconscious mind. I relived the past in horror as I mumbled to Carole in the present. "I circled the day on my calendar."

My hand wobbled a little as I circled the day with the biggest red marker I owned. Then I counted. One two three four… all the way up to seven. That was one whole week. Surely the little boy would help by then. Surely Cooper would be home by then. But I didn't want to jump the gun. I didn't want to be disappointed just in case the little boy was an asshole or something. So I kept counting. Eight nine ten eleven… until I got to Tuesday, February 5th. Then I circled that one too. Cooper would be home by then.

Carole's voice broke into my thoughts. "…Blaine? Honey, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nothing," I said, blinking. "Keep going. What happened after my father got there?"

After she spent a few seconds looking at me with concern in her eyes, she began again. "You father came prepared to deal with Elizabeth. She was shot when she answered the door and Kurt was taken."

"For eight months." The words left me in a drawn out and sluggish way as I remembered Burt's words.

Carole nodded. "Kurt doesn't talk about it. Ever. Burt says that he's never asked because he doesn't want to know. He told me that Kurt was barely alive when they finally got him back."

"How?" Once again, it was one of those 'no one ever gets out' deals. There are a lot of those in my world.

"Elizabeth. She didn't die when she was shot; it put her in a coma instead. Burt couldn't stand losing them both, I guess so her held on to the hope that she would wake up the whole time. She did eventually, and the first thing she did was sneak out of the hospital. Given her ability, it was probably very easy for her to make her demands to the first nurse she saw. She caused uproar, of course. I wasn't an NP at the time, so I was in a different ward, but it got around fast that one of the coma patients was suddenly missing. No one knew how she did it, either. You can't just wake up from an eight month long coma and walk out like nothing. But I'm losing focus. Once she got out of the hospital she made her way inside one of the PC facilities. She used her ability to do it. First on whoever got in her way once she got inside and then on your father once she finally had Kurt. The stress caused a rapid acceleration of her cancer and she had a stroke not long after she showed up at Burt's front door with a half-dead Kurt."

"But… my father always said that the little boy…" I trailed off.

It's over. He's dead.

"She altered his memory," Carole told me, catching on. "I don't think he remembers who Kurt is at all. Burt said that she planted the memory of a fake boy in your father's mind and that is who he remembers now when he thinks of the little boy with the PC classification. He also thinks that the fake boy died after all the harsh testing they put him through. "

Carole paused. "I know this is probably very difficult for you to hear. I don't know how much you knew before I told you all this, but… I told you so that you can understand. Burt isn't a bad person, and I'm not making excuses for how he's been handling all of this, but he's been through a lot. So has Kurt. I'm sure he wanted to tell you, honey. He just didn't know how."

I was barely listening by that point.

It was almost too much to take in. Carole probably thought that she was helping but she only made everything worse. I hadn't thought that I could feel more wrecked than I already did, but her story ripped me open all over again.

She offered me a sad smile and reached out to gently pat my hand. "I'll leave you alone for a little while. Your brother and your friends are welcome to stay here as long as they like, so don't worry about that. We're all going to do our best to make things work out." She patted my hand once more and then she was gone.

Left alone, my mind swam with ugly thoughts. If Elizabeth had never woken up, would my father have finally found a cure? Would Cooper be completely normal now? Would I? Would I have gotten him back years ago? What would my life be like now?

Would I still have Kurt? Or would the tests killed him like they killed his fake alternate ego? Would he be dead now, cold and rotting somewhere unimportant under the mud and dirt?

My stomach churned.

I need him.

Go find him.

I went.

He was in his backyard staring at nothing in particular and sitting boneless in a wicker chair. I knelt down in front of him. "Kurt…"

He looked at me and that was all it took. I didn't hesitate to crowd into his space by crawling into his lap and straddling his thighs and holding onto him tighter than I should have. "I'm sorry," I told him. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I kept going until I had said the words so many times that they came out like gibberish.

Then we were quiet until Kurt broke the silence.

"Take me somewhere else."

"Okay."

Somewhere else wasn't far. Just fifteen minutes away from his house, really, was a great somewhere else. There were trees and tall grass that was unkempt and overgrown, and after I drove his car right into the middle of the yellow and brown mess that was the frost bitten overgrowth, we got out of the Navigator and climbed on top of the roof to fulfill Kurt's request to look at the sky.

The sky was gray and dull, but it wasn't too bad to look at with Kurt's left arm pressed up against my right.

No one had stopped us when we left his house that time, but that might have only been because I told Carole that we were leaving for a little while—that Kurt needed out and so did I.

It took him a while, but eventually his fingers curled around mine.

"I really do love you, Kurt." Again, it was probably the wrong time, but I had to say it. "You don't have to believe me."

"I don't." I do.

"Tell me you love me back," I begged.

"I don't." I do.

In light of Carole's story, I was only just beginning to understand how much.

"Even though my family ruined yours and my father tortured you for months? Even though your mother is dead because of him?"

"No." I heard the tears in his voice. Yes.

"I'm sorry."

He rolled into me, and instead of curling our fingers together, we curled around each other and he sobbed on me. I held him, feeling like the worst sack of shit in the world.

At that time, there was nothing else to say.

"We have to go back."

"Ask me if I want to."

"Do you want to go back?"

"Yes." No.

"We can't stay here forever."

"We can if we want to." I wish we could.

"Kurt."

"Blaine…"

"Don't make me. Please. I just—I can't. Not right now."

I kissed his forehead. "I wouldn't make you."

Silence for a little while. Then,

"Do you think he hates me?"

I winced. I wasn't good for advice about that kind of stuff. "Do you?"

"No." I don't know. I think he hates that I let myself be close to you. He hates that I trust you so much.

"I'm glad you do." I didn't know what else to say. I had never seen him so wrecked. I didn't know how to fix it—for him or for myself.

"He didn't say anything bad." He said that I compromised what my mom did for me. That's like saying I don't care that she died. That I don't care that she's gone.

He started crying again and I could only pull him close and wait it out. I ran my fingers through his hair and waited for it to be over. I told myself that, soon, it would. But time passed and he was still crying and all I could think was that I wasn't made for comforting.

"What was I supposed to do?" He asked with a thick voice that was congested with upset and tears. "How was I supposed to stay away from you? Like it would have been so easy. It would have." It would have been impossible. It is impossible. I feel sick every time you're too far away. He doesn't understand what that's like. He doesn't know how hard it was so see you every day and know who you were and what that meant. He doesn't know what it's like to need to be close to someone that you're supposed to avoid. But I can't avoid you and I can't stay away from you. The room feels like it's shrinking when I don't have your hand to hold.

His truth hurt, of course it did. But it made me think of something. Something that Cooper said the first time we ever talked about Kurt. "…What would you do if you could stay away? Would you want that?"

He seemed to sense the weight behind the words—that it was a question that held the promise of possibility. He went stiff next to me and his voice was full of caution when he asked, "What are you talking about?"

I wanted to make it better. I needed to make it better because I didn't want to hurt him anymore. And my thoughts were all over the place—what I wanted for myself was selfish, but what I wanted for him was a totally different story. I wanted everything for him, even if it meant that I got nothing. And realizing that made it obvious that doing the selfless thing was the right thing to do—or some misguided shit like that.

"Cooper has a theory. He thinks our need to be close to each other has something to do with our abilities. Like how opposite attract." I took a breath. "So… If you took my ability away then maybe you could let me go. But… would you do that?"

He jerked away from me and leaned up to stare at me with panicked eyes. "Yes." No! I need this. I need us, I need you. I don't want to change what I feel. That wasn't what I meant. And it's not just your ability. It's you. You're supposed to be for me and I'm supposed to be for you. I believe that. You can't just make me take that away!

I was relieved to hear that, but it made me crumble inside. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it better."

"You can." You can't. So just be with me.

"Okay."