December 2027

15 months, 22 days, 13 hours, 6 minutes, 56 seconds.

That's how long it had been since Cooper and Kurt had made the decision to put Blaine in a home for people like him; people with Alzheimer's.

Blaine's case was different, given that he was much younger than the majority of its victims, barely even 32 years old.  Much like every other case though, it was a gradual wearing away process. Early-onset Alzheimer's ran in their family. The brothers had known this. Their mother had had it, as did their grandfather, and so on.

Blaine prayed it wouldn't be passed down to him, never mentioning it to Kurt for fear of jinxing it. Cooper, however, was expecting this considering he was breaching 44 years of age and hadn’t shown any signs of the disease. What he didn’t expect, was for it to take Blaine away so quickly.

March 2025

He was in between meetings, attempting to put the finishing touches on his presentation when his phone went off for the 5th time in the past 20 minutes. Overly distracted and on the verge of irritation, he answered without glancing at the screen.

"This is Cooper."

"Learn how to answer your freaking phone! Have you heard from Blaine?"

"Well, hello to you too."

Kurt sighed heavily, "Hi, Coop. How are you? Oh you're great? Me too. Listen, have you heard from him or not?"

Cooper shook his head in response before he realized that Kurt couldn't see him.

"No, I haven't. Try calling him."

"I did! But he's not answering his phone. He left the house 2 and a half hours ago to pick us up some lunch and he hasn't come back -"

Kurt's incessant rambling was starting to get on Cooper’s last nerve. He let out a groan of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know where he is, Kurt! I have things I need to do, companies that I need to research. I can't do this right now."

And with that, he hung up. As he made his way out of his office, briefcase in hand and what seemed like hundreds of files under each arm, his phone rang again. This time he glanced at the screen.

Incoming Call

BLAINEY

" Where the hell are you, man? Kurt’s been worried about you."

Blaine hung his head, defeat evident in his voice, "Help. I – I don’t – I don’t know where I am, Coop.”

He stilled in the doorway, files threatening to fall out from under his arms as he tried to balance his phone between his ear and shoulder, “What do you mean you don’t know where you are? You’ve lived in New York for almost 15 years.”

“I know. I’m on Park and 57th. I can’t remember how to get back to our apartment.”

“B, you’re right around the corner. Head back down 57th, make a right on Lexington, third building on your right, apartment 5C.”

Blaine rubbed his hand over his face as he let out a long sigh, “I should’ve known that.”

“You’re okay, little brother.”

“No I’m not, Cooper. It’s – It’s happening. It’s happening and this isn’t the first time I’ve forgotten something. First it was my lesson plans, and then I forgot that I had a lunch date with dad.”

“So you forgot a few minor things. You’ve been busy. We all have. If it makes you feel any better, I forgot mine and Julie’s anniversary. But with how she yelled at me, I’ll never forget it again.”

“I’m being serious. Next it’ll be something bigger than forgetting where I live. Like who I am, or – oh god. Coop. What if I – what if I forget Kurt?”

There was a tense silence between them as Cooper searched for the right words. His words were surer than he expected them to be, “You won’t, Blaine. You never forget true love.”

“You don’t know that! How can you be so sure? Mom forgot Dad. You remember how hard that was for him? “

“Blaine. Stop. Just stop it. It’ll be okay. But I think it’s time you tell Kurt.”

Blaine let out a heavy sigh, “You’re right. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

“Okay. Love you too, Squirt.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Cooper chuckled softly to himself, “Bye, Blaine.”

After hanging up the phone, Blaine found his way back to the apartment based on Cooper’s directions. Once he got out of the elevator, Blaine stopped in front of apartment 5C and stared at the door for what felt like ages before sliding the key into the lock.