A humming of voices was running through the commune when Blaine woke up Monday afternoon. Linda had left a note on the pillow next to him saying that she had to leave to run some errands, but she would be back and check on him as soon as possible.

The pounding in his head had disappeared, and his muscles weren't as achy as they had been through the last days of hiding under the blanket.

"Blaine. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He hadn't noticed her at the other end of the room, but Quinn was sitting with her legs dragged up under her.

Blaine did a little twitch from the surprise, but sat up and dragged the blanket under his chin as he gestured for her to come sit next to him.

Quinn hurried to cross the mattresses, an expression of agony painted across her face.

She sat down next to him with her back against the wall, doing what she could to avoid any kind of eye contact.

"You have to please promise me that you won't tell anyone. Not Kurt, not Linda, not anyone. Please," Quinn bit her lower lip as she let her eyes pierce into Blaine's, begging for a promise.

"But why? What is it?" Blaine asked confused.

"Swear it, Blaine. Please - I need you," Quinn begged, her voice filled with sadness, and her eyes seeming frightened.

"Okay. Okay, I promise. Just... what's wrong?"

"I... I was just at the doctor's office. I used a fake name, but..." She paused and closed her eyes. It wasn't until now that Blaine noticed that her lower lip was quivering, and her hands were shaking.

"Jesus Quinn. You're shaking -" Blaine grabbed her hand and felt how ice cold it was. Maybe it just felt like that because he still had the feverish feeling in his body.

"Quinn. You need to talk to me. Why did you go to the doctor's office?" Blaine squeezed her hand a little tighter to show her that it was okay, that she could talk freely to him.

"I - I'm pregnant."

She spat out the words as if they were something poisonous she didn't want on her tongue.

Blaine felt it as a slap in the face. He had not seen this coming.

"Wow. That's… I don't know what to say." Blaine felt that he should be apologizing for not having any consoling words to offer her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you with my problems."

Tears were streaming down her face, and her nails were digging hard into his hand.

"No. No. It's okay. Completely. How? Who? I mean…" He wasn't sure what to say or ask, but he knew that she understood.

"The other day. After the demonstration… I know that you know about me, Blaine. Everyone knows. I've been crazy about you for over a year now. It's no secret. But - the other day when everyone got drunk. I saw Kurt kissing you. He did it just because he saw me looking at you, you know. I just - it just hurt so much. So I - I got drunk and then I… I talked Puck into sleeping with me. And he did. And we agreed to stop in time. But… he was high, and I was drunk. So we didn't. And now… Now I'm in this mess," she explained, stopping for sobs between words, before she hid her face against her arm.

Blaine was in shock. This was so much information at one time.

A part of him hadn't believed it when Kurt had said that Quinn was in love with him. But here she was, saying that she had been for over a year. And pregnant; she had got herself pregnant from one stupid, impulsive, irrational fuck.

And Kurt. Why would she think that Kurt would even consider kissing him?

"He didn't kiss me," Blaine blurted out.

"He was just sharing his mushrooms with me," he continued, only now realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… Have you told Puck?"

"No. I can't. He'll die. I pushed him into sleeping with me because I just wanted to forget you. I needed to feel wanted, and Puck's liked me since we were kids, so I knew I could talk him into it. I'm such an awful person. I don't know what to do. My parent's are going to kill me."

She started taking deep breaths as if she was preparing herself to avoid hyperventilating. Blaine's mind went overboard with millions of thoughts running through, and he tried pushing them away to be there for the crying girl, so he started brushing her hand soothingly with his thumb, doing his best to calm her down.

"First of all I think you should tell Puck. He deserves to know. I understand that it's going to be a nightmare but… He really deserves to know. And Puck is a good guy. I know he acts all tough, but deep down he's really sensitive and I know he'll support you no matter what happens."

Blaine shuffled closer to put an arm around Quinn. She was shaking even worse now, but it was like the feeling of Blaine's arm around her shoulders touched something inside her, making her force herself to relax.

He was so torn about what to do, what to tell her. It was painful to listen to her crying.

"Quinn. You're a smart girl, and just… I'll be there. No matter what. I promise."

Blaine silenced and let her cry out into his shoulder. He felt bad for her that she had come to him this day where he was just trying to get out of his virus, and hadn't showered for days. The smell of illness was stanching in all of his clothes and on his skin, and his entire body was clammy from the fever.

"You're so amazing. Why couldn't I just have…" But she stopped herself. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and sat up to face Blaine, her face more relaxed from the relief of sharing her secret.

"Listen, I don't know what you're planning on doing, but - I think you should start out by telling Puck. And then I think you should go home and tell your parents. I should go home soon, so I can go with you. We can go together so you don't have to take the long trip alone."

Hopeful sparks spread in her eyes, as if she for the first time saw a light at the end of the road, a way out of the chaotic mess she had whirled herself into.

"Thank you, Blaine. I - you don't have to do this."

"It's okay. I want to. You shouldn't have to go through this alone." He muffled her hair lightly, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

"Can't we just stay here forever? In this moment," Quinn whispered.

"Yeah. That would be nice," Blaine whispered back at her.

Blaine didn't tell her, but during their entire conversation, he had felt a knot grow stronger in his stomach. He felt so guilty that this had happened to her - if he hadn't rejected her, then she wouldn't have sought console in Puck, and she wouldn't be pregnant.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come? I can come. I can go with you, and we can take care of this together." Puck's voice was heartbreaking and his eyes were filled with concern.

"No, I just… have to go back to my parents, and I'll figure out what to do. Blaine will go with me. He's going home himself," Quinn assured him, shooting Blaine an insecure glance where he sat in the corner, nodding at her in a promise that he would stand by his word.

"Right. You take care of her, Anderson. But, Quinn… if you decide to keep the baby I'll be the dad, you know that right? I will take it on me," Puck said, and cupped her face in his hands, forcing his eyes into hers, making her eyes flicker nervously as they grew wet.

"I know. I'll… I'll let you know when I've made my decision," Quinn promised before she wrenched her face out of his hands

Puck dug into his pocket and found something. He handed a little folded piece of paper out to Quinn, and then he gave one to Blaine too.

"This is the phone number for the commune. There actually is a phone here, but no one ever use it. I just thought that you should have the number so you could call me if there should be anything," he said.

Blaine folded the number and stuffed it into his wallet. He never knew the commune had a phone, an actual phone. Why would they? That seemed ridiculous. But now that he knew they did he appreciated it.

"Thanks. I promise I'll take care of her. I should go pack my stuff. I talked to my father. He said my mom is getting… They want me to come home soon, so we're going tomorrow," Blaine said to Puck, trying to push away the thought of packing up all of his stuff into his rucksack once again.

"I know you will. It's cool. Just call me if you need me to come back, or if there's anything really. But I'll see you around," Puck said, padding Blaine's shoulder before Blaine got off the couch and headed down the hall.

"So… I hear that you're leaving," Kurt said as he dumped down on the mattress next to where Blaine was sitting, trying to figure out if he had remembered all the things he needed pack up.

"Yeah. That's the plan. There's a bus leaving early tomorrow morning," Blaine replied as he packed up the extra case of strings for his guitar, avoiding Kurt's gaze, not really knowing what to say or do, or if Kurt was even expecting anything from him or if he was there in mere courtesy.

"Is your mom getting worse?" Kurt asked hesitantly, the question taking Blaine completely by surprise.

"Yeah. My father demanded that I come home, and as Quinn is going home too I promised her that we could go together," Blaine explained in a hollow tone, his throat dry and itchy by the thought of his mom being sick.

"You're… you're going with Lucy?" Kurt flinched as he said her name, Blaine was confused as to what could possibly be the problem about that, but before he could ask, Kurt stood up and walked towards the door.

"Then I guess this is goodbye," Kurt said before he turned on his heel and left the room.

"Kurt…" Blaine called after him, not louder than his regular speaking tone, not sure whether he had wanted Kurt to come back or not.

He didn't know what to say to him if he did. But he didn't want their goodbye to be this way either. He didn't know what he wanted their goodbye to be.

He actually didn't want to say goodbye to Kurt.

Then it hit him that he might never see Kurt's face again, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Blaine swallowed a lump in his throat at the thought, but forced himself to try and tune out his brain so he could finish packing, though Kurt's face kept running in and out of his mind for the rest of the day, an empty feeling in his chest.

Blaine slept awful that night. Kurt hadn't come to sleep next to him, and when he had entered the kitchen in the morning he had overheard people saying that he had left the commune the previous afternoon and no one had seen him since, which worried Blaine.

Linda and Puck had followed them to the bus. Gary had refused to go with them, and Blaine most of all wanted to flip him, but he didn't.

Puck reminded them to call him if they needed him to return to Ohio, Quinn told him that it was okay, and he shouldn't worry about her. Blaine thanked him and smiled appreciatively before shaking his hand.

"Oh Blainers, I really hope your mom gets better soon. Tell her I said hi, would you," Linda crooned, as she hugged him. The bus driver barked that if they wanted to get on the bus they should hurry, cause he would close the door in a minute.

Linda pulled him in to hug him one last time before he swung the backpack over his shoulder, and took a firmer grip on the handle of his old guitar case. He let Quinn enter the bus first, but right as he was about to step foot on the stairs Linda grabbed around his wrist.

"He's gonna miss you too. Don't try to deny it, Blainers. I've never seen you look at anyone like that before -" Linda said, her green eyes penetrating Blaine's brown ones, before he grew confused he hurried to get in the bus and proceed down the aisle to find Quinn.

The morning sun was piercing in his eyes as Blaine rested his forehead against the cool window. They had found a seat in the back where they could easily sleep a little more. The entire bus was quiet, and all that was heard was the roar from the engine and the silent snoring from people here and there.

Quinn fell asleep against his shoulder within 15 minutes of the drive. The girl that usually looked so tough in her face looked almost angelic as she slept peacefully, all of her worries gone for the moment.

Blaine wanted to sleep too. He tried. He rested his head against Quinn's and tried hiding his face in her hair, but he couldn't fall asleep. Her hair smelled like strawberries and the sweetness made him nauseous.

He shuffled in his seat, trying to hide his eyes from the sun so he could face away from Quinn's hair, but no matter what he did all he could think about was Kurt. Speculating why he hadn't come to sleep at the commune last night, why he hadn't come back, where he was - if he had done it to avoid Blaine. Didn't he want to say goodbye?

The drive was long and hot. It was hard to keep his head straight because of the heat. Quinn didn't say much. She kept her gaze locked on the landscape rushing by them outside, occasionally squeezing her hand around his arm, before she curled her hands up in her lap.

There was no doubt that she was terrified of going back to her parents and thereby having to tell them she was pregnant, and Blaine couldn't help feeling sorry for her even though he was certain that this was the right thing to do.

Around nightfall, they held in at a truck stop near a gas station. Blaine and Quinn didn't really want to but they knew they would need to get out to get some fresh air before driving all night, so they had no other choice.

The air was chilly and Blaine lent Quinn his sweater before he sat down on the curb next to the bus. When he put his hands into his pockets he realized something he didn't know he had put there.

He pulled out the little piece of paper and unfolded it, uncertain of what it was and where it had come from. He recognized Kurt's flawless handwriting immediately.

"Stardust. I know I'll never see you again, but I won't forget you."

He stared baffled at the note in his hand, and suddenly he felt the need to hide it away. It was like a treasure that he couldn't share the beauty of with anyone else. As if the value of it would fade away if someone else saw it.

He folded the note neatly, and put it back in his pocket keeping his hand locked around it out of fear that it would disappear if he let go.

When he slept that night he rested his head on Quinn's shoulder, and all he could remember from his dream was Kurt's smiling face in the sun on their green patch next to the playground.

When he woke up the next morning he noticed that they had crossed the border of Ohio - but all he could focus on was how clear the smell of summer rain was in his nostrils, warming all the way to his stomach.

"Call me if you need anything. I'm only 20 minutes away," Blaine told Quinn as he hugged her awkwardly on the corner of the street where she lived.

It was odd to be back in Lima. It was like time had stood still while they had been away. The same people crossed the street at the same time as always, and the shops looked as if nothing had changed. Even though he was walking down the same streets he had walked since he was a toddler, it didn't have the usual familiarity.

The façade of the Anderson house looked like itself, too. The white shutters and the front porch with the love seat where his mom always sat in the summer.

Today was no exception.

When he stepped onto the steps of the porch she looked at him in disbelief. Like he was a mirage, like she was hallucinating, and in no way believing her own eyes - believing that her son was back.

"Hey mom," Blaine tried carefully, not quite certain what reaction to expect from her.

His mom got to her feet. Slowly, like she was hazed.

"Blaine? You're really back, baby?" she asked, insecure, letting her hand up so her fingertips almost touched his face.

"Yeah, mom. I… I missed you. So I decided to come home. To see you," Blaine stammered, hoping that he sounded convincing and not too worried. He didn't want her to know that he had come home because he knew that she was sick.

He pulled her into a hug where he couldn't help noticing how much weight she had lost. When he let her go again he saw that her once so tanned skin had gone gray and unhealthy. Her eyes seemed lifeless and her hair had lost its shine.

They walked inside where she forced him to eat, claiming that he looked skinny, and asked him to tell her about D.C., about his experiences and the people he had met.

He didn't tell much. He mentioned that he had met some kids from Lima and that they had stuck together throughout the most of his stay.

"I made a new friend," Blaine shared, feeling like a kid coming home from his first day of school.

She didn't laugh at him the way mothers did when their kids tell them they made a new friend - she looked serious, and interested.

"His name is Kurt. He taught me a lot; he taught me about nature, and art, and how to be at ease with myself. He's from Lima too," Blaine told her, not sure why it was so important for him to tell his mom about Kurt.

He had met so many people, and experienced so much. Kurt was only a fraction of his stay in D.C., so why was he so eager to tell her about him?

"He's… special, you could say. There's not anything wrong with him. Not special like that. He just sees the world in a different way. It's beautiful."

Blaine smiled as a memory popped into his head.

Kurt on the roof telling him that a fairy once taught him to fly, and Blaine believing him so easily, trusting him unconditionally, and letting his hand slide into Kurt's, letting Kurt teach him how to fly.

"That's nice, baby. You need friends," she responded. She was slowly returning to her old self, which calmed Blaine down. He had been nervous about which state he would find her in when he got home.

"I also made friends with… Quinn Fabray. She's a sweet girl, and only lives 20 minutes from here. She and I took the bus back together." Blaine emptied his glass of water to try getting rid of his dry throat.

"She's a good girl. Her parents are nice," she said as she got up from her chair and walked around the counter where she leaned in to place a flighty kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I have to go lie down for a bit. Go get unpacked and get a shower. I'll talk to you at dinner." She let a thumb brush over his cheek, and he felt a sting of worry for his mom run through him, but he didn't say anything. He wished her to get better and let her go.

He stayed in the kitchen for a while; taking in the feeling of his home, with the sounds and smells and colors from his entire lifetime.

After a while, he decided to get upstairs and do as his mom had told him to. When he passed the bedroom, he could have sworn he heard his mom cry, but he didn't dare go in there. He didn't want to intrude, so he proceeded down the hall to his own room.

The room smelled like the sun had been baking in through the windows for days. He could see that the sheets were clean, and nothing else was changed since he left. Yet, it felt like something was missing.

He put his guitar into the holder standing by the wall, before he walked to the bed and fell down on his back, his eyes threatening to drift closed.

He felt smelly, and his entire body was aching from the long bus drive. He knew that he should get a shower but he was exhausted and really just wanted to curl up on his bed and sleep for a week.

But he felt empty inside. Something was missing but he didn't know what it was. He looked around his room, but couldn't see anything different. Everything was in its place, and nothing had been removed or replaced. His room was just the way he had left it.

He forced himself to sit up, and looked hopelessly at his backpack on the floor in the corner. It needed to be emptied out, too. He needed to get all of his clothes to the hamper so he could get rid of the stench of the commune.

Blaine got to his feet and ruffled around for some clean clothes in the dresser before he grabbed the backpack and walked to the bathroom.

He started pulling out all of the clothes to force it violently into the hamper next to the sink when a breeze of summer rain hit his nostrils and curled up to a ball in his stomach. The scent of Kurt.

For a brief second he let the shirt up to his nose so he could really take in the fragrance, but hurried to shake his head, and force it aggressively down in the middle of the other clothes he had just shoved in the basket.

He rushed to strip off his clothes so he could step under the hot water, letting it ease up his tight muscles, caressing his skin. He rested his back against the cold tiles, as he let the water painfully hit his closed eyelids, threatening to break through the skin and nerves.

He wanted to wash himself completely clean of Kurt. He didn't want anything to remind him of that boy anymore. It was pointless - they weren't going to see each other anymore anyway. He was back in Lima now, and he needed to get rid of the feeling of D.C. that was currently covering his body.

He let the soap smear all over his naked skin, and the shampoo drench his curls - he knew that as soon as his father got home he would have to say goodbye to them and see them shaved off. The thought made him sad.

As he left the shower a wall of cold air hit him and made a chill run down his spine and his skin tighten around his muscles. He hurried to dry himself with a towel before he started dragging on his clean clothes when he saw the jeans he had been wearing on the bus ride lying on the floor.

How could he forget?

He reached into the pocket and pulled out the little piece of folded paper. He unfolded it and re-read the words, even though he had them memorized.

"Stardust. I know I'll never see you again, but I will never forget you."

He folded the note again and clenched to it as he returned to his room. In there he grabbed out his wallet and tugged the paper into a little hole in the leather. This way he would always have the note with him, but no one would ever see it. Nothing could make its beauty fade away.