It took Blaine only a few minutes to calm down and regret what he had said to Kurt. He almost turned back to the bedroom at that point, but wanted to give them both a little while longer to cool off. He couldn't believe he'd handled the situation so badly. Yes, he'd been blindsided by Rachel's news, but he still wasn't sure why it had upset him so much. Was he really so petty that he didn't want to see anyone else achieving their dreams just because he'd been forced to give up his? And God, was he really so blind that he hadn't noticed his cousin pining for a life on the stage?

He made his way to the gazebo in the back and sat down, the air noticeably cooler in the shade. It was time he was honest with himself. He didn't feel like he'd given up just his musical career to come back home. He had also sacrificed his chance for love and happiness. Doing what he needed to do in order to run the company meant pretending to be someone he wasn't for the rest of his life, someone doomed to have only superficial relationships and never find the real love he craved. He had always had this picture of what his life would look like, a house filled with laughter and conversation all centered around the beautiful man he would marry, but now all he could see was night after night of tense silence and regret with Quinn at the other end of the table. The cost seemed all too high now.

He didn't begrudge Rachel going after what she wanted, not really, but he did resent that she was free to live her life however, and with whomever, she wanted to. And if he was honest, he resented his mother a little bit too. A part of him had spent the last year waiting for her to realize that she was asking too much, that the company and family tradition weren't worth making him a martyr. Of course, he knew how easy it was to ask someone to change without any thought to how it might affect them. He'd done the same thing to Kurt by asking him not to use his powers.

Oh god. Kurt. Blaine leaned his head back against the post of the gazebo and looked upwards, his eyes searching for the answer. He could still feel the twinge in his chest that had roared to life when he found out Kurt had been keeping secrets from him. Rationally he knew it wasn't a big deal and that Kurt was right in that it was Rachel's secret to tell, but that didn't stop him from feeling hurt.

Memories of that morning and the previous night flashed through his mind like a corny montage video and the twinge slowly began being replaced by a pressure he didn't think he had ever felt before, centered somewhere near his heart. Kurt was everything and they would work it out. No romance that was worth having went completely smooth, right? He was going to have to beg forgiveness for implying that Kurt wasn't part of the family, though. Nothing could be further from the truth and he was going to make Kurt see that if it was the last thing he did.

Blaine left the gazebo and returned to the house, resolved to find Rachel and Kurt in order to begin talking things through.

He first checked the bedrooms, but there was no sign of Kurt, so he decided to scout out the rooms on the main floor. At the top of the stairs he met Kathleen, who was balancing two large boxes precariously in her arms. He took the top box from her and carried it down, placing it on the floor where she indicated before heading into the living room. Kurt wasn't there, but Quinn was perched on a chair reading a magazine. He tried to back out of the room without her seeing him, but his luck definitely wasn't with him that morning.

"Blaine. I heard the news about Rachel," she smirked, setting the magazine down on the table beside her. "I'm sure you're thrilled to have a budding thespian in the family. And all due to Kurt, I hear."

Blaine sighed, not thrilled to be conversing with Quinn when she had her daggers drawn. "I'm sure Rachel is very grateful to Kurt for his help with the audition, but she owes her success to her own talent. We're all very proud of her."

Quinn narrowed her eyes, unhappy that her words weren't having the desired effect. "Hmm...I'm sure. I also hear that you and Kurt had a little sleep over last night. How…exciting for both of you. I hope he was worth it."

"Worth what, Quinn?" Blaine sighed, suddenly very tired.

"Well, worth losing the vote, of course. Daddy just told me. The vote was this morning and unfortunately the board doesn't feel like you have shown the…leadership skills they're looking for in a CEO. They're voting on a permanent replacement right now."

Blaine stood rooted to the ground for a minute, waiting for the pain over losing the position to hit him, but it never came. It was OK. The company was going to be fine and so was his mother. There were more important things than being the umpteenth Anderson to run the family business. "I'm glad they finally made a decision. It's been too long since the company had a real leader and I'm sure they'll make the best choice," he smiled, enjoying the confusion on Quinn's face at this reaction.

"Don't you understand? You lost. The company is going to be run by someone else."

"No, I got it. I just don't care. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find Rachel and Kurt. We have some things to talk about."

With that he left the room and a sputtering Quinn behind, feeling lighter and happier than he had in a long time. He wasn't able to find Kurt, but he did eventually find Rachel downstairs in the theater, singing into the microphone while holding a mirror in front on her.

"I thought you already won the role," he called softly, not wanting to startle her.

A blush bloomed on Rachel's cheeks and she dropped the mirror down to her side. "I did, but someone in the company mentioned that I might want to work on controlling my facial expressions while I sing, so I was just…" she trailed off, a little self-conscious after Blaine's less than enthusiastic response to her news earlier.

"Rachel, I need to apologize for this morning. Can we just pretend it never happened and start over?" She smiled and gave a quick nod before running over to Blaine and having him envelope her in his arms. "I am so proud of you. You are going to knock everyone out and I fully expect you to have taken over the lead role by the time the show opens on Broadway. There's only one problem…"

Rachel pulled back warily. "Problem?"

"I just wonder how the rest of the cast is going to take the fact that you'll have the biggest cheering section in the audience come opening night. It isn't good to show everyone up too much, you know."

Rachel laughed and threw her arms around his neck as he twirled her around the room. They collapsed onto the chairs and she filled him in on all she knew about the show and the move to New York. He offered tips on where she should live and promised to come to help her apartment hunt. They were in the middle of discussing the pros and cons of out-of-town show openings when Blaine felt a chill run through his body. He stopped mid-sentence, his heart thumping out of control in his chest. He didn't know how he knew it, but he was absolutely certain that something was wrong with Kurt.

He rushed out of the room without a word, Rachel trailing after him, confused. As he approached the front door his shoe clipped the edge of the box he had carried down earlier. He gave it a passing glance then did a double-take. "Why is this here?" Dread filled his voice as he reached down to pick up the samovar.

Rachel glanced down at the box and gave a puzzled look to Quinn, who had joined them in the hallway. "That's stuff we're donating. It's all getting replaced in the upcoming redecoration."

"It's funny," Quinn mused, "Kurt asked about that box too. What's so interesting about it?"

"This is Kurt's. It…it's not ours to get rid of," Blaine choked out.

"I'm sorry," Rachel moved to stand next to him. "Your mom asked me to get stuff together for the donation and I guess I was a little overzealous. I'll go put it back in his room."

Rachel reached out for the samovar, but Blaine pulled it deeper into his arms, unable to let it go. Kurt had seen the samovar laying there in the box like unwanted junk. Oh god, what must he have thought? After the way Blaine had acted, the things that he had said, would Kurt think the worst? "Do either of you know where Kurt is right now?" Blaine knew that his panic was beginning to show through in his voice.

Quinn looked a little uneasy as she confessed that she had seen Kurt earlier and that he had left looking a little upset. Blaine set the samovar down on a table and ran off in the direction Quinn indicated. He had run several blocks and was a little out of breath when the sounds of sirens caught his attention. He immediately changed direction and headed towards the sound. At last he rounded a corner and came across the source of the noise. A police car was pulling up besides an ambulance that was already parked at the scene. A car sat stopped in the middle of the road, a man leaning against it, his head in his hands. On the ground in front of the car were two emergency technicians who were working over a body lying in the street. Blaine steps slowed; dread filling every inch of his body. He edged around the small crowd that was gathering, knowing he needed to get a better look at the person on the ground. As one of the EMTs moved he suddenly had a clear view of the scene and all of his worst fears were realized as he recognized Kurt, pale and unconscious, an oxygen mask being fitted over his face.

Hours later Blaine sat tensely in the hospital waiting room, waiting for someone to come and give him information on Kurt's condition. Helen and Rachel were sitting nearby, but he paid them no attention, his mind replaying over and over the moment when he saw Kurt loaded into the ambulance and driven away. He had looked so small, so pale. He heard a commotion and looked up, hoping to see a doctor with good news, but instead just saw Finn and Santana entering the room. Rachel ran up to Finn and threw her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. Finn comforted her by rubbing her back, despite his still lingering hurt and confusion over her decision to move to New York.

Santana sat down in the chair next to Blaine and picked his hand up in hers. "Any news?"

Blaine shook his head, unable to form any words at that moment.

"I thought it best that I leave Brittany at home until we know more," Santana paused when Blaine's hand tightened on hers for a second. "I wasn't sure how she would react if."

Just then the door to the waiting room opened once more and a doctor entered. Blaine listened in a haze, only snippets of what she was saying making sense.

"…in a coma…not sure why he is unconscious…no apparent injuries…prognosis unsure at this time…"

Seeing that Blaine was unable to respond, Helen thanked the doctor for the update and asked her to keep them informed of any changes. The doctor left and Helen moved to the corner of the room to make some phone calls while Rachel and Finn left to scout out some food from the cafeteria, but Blaine remained where he was, unwilling to leave in case Kurt's condition changed.

Time passed quickly, but simultaneously crawled along. Was this how the limbo that Kurt mentioned felt? Blaine would almost welcome the complete nothingness that Kurt had described. At least then he could stop replaying every minute of the day over and over in his head, trying to find all the moments where he could have made a different choice to avoid where they were now. He glanced out the window to look into another waiting room across the hallway and saw a family receiving what was obviously good news from a doctor. He tried to be happy for them, but turned his face towards the wall instead and thought of pale skin and fathomless blue eyes.

Finally he was allowed to go in and see Kurt for a few minutes. He declined his mother's offer to accompany him and followed the nurse down the hallway. Kurt lay silently on the bed and Blaine could have almost convinced himself that he was just sleeping, if not for the wires connecting him to the monitoring equipment. He touched Kurt's hand and was startled at how cold it was. He rubbed it gently with his fingers, remembering how often their hands had touched. Suddenly his numbness was gone and all of the emotions of the day washed over him. Regret, anger, fear, and despair pulsed through every vein and escaped in the form of tears running down his face. "I love you," he whispered, saying the words he never got the chance to say earlier. "Please come back to me."

Santana watched as Blaine left the room behind the nurse. She had sat beside him for hours watching him with concern as he seemed to fall into an almost catatonic state and she couldn't take being in the stuffy room one more minute. She sprang up from her chair and stalked down the hallway, the desperate need to move filling every inch of her body. She found an exit and pushed through it, taking a deep breath to drive out the antiseptic smell of the hospital. She pulled out her phone to call Brittany, but before she could dial she heard the sounds of quiet sobbing from around the corner. She crept over, not wanting to disturb the person, but wanting to make sure they didn't need help, and was shocked to see Quinn, sitting on a small bench next to the wall.

All of the sudden the rage that Santana had been feeling since she got the call from Rachel boiled over. "What the hell are you crying for?" she hissed at the crying woman. "You don't even like Kurt and we all know it. You should be celebrating, right? If Kurt dies then maybe Blaine will be so damaged that he'll agree to marry your sorry ass."

Santana's words hit Quinn like bullets and she curled into herself, crying even harder. "I think this is all my fault."

"Why?" Santana asked darkly.

"I-I saw Kurt at the house. I told him it was his fault that the board members didn't support Blaine in the vote. I told him…I told him he was ruining Blaine's life and that Blaine didn't want to talk to him. He was so upset and just ran out. It's my fault he walked out in front of that car."

Santana growled at this and had to hold herself back from physically confronting the other woman. "You bitch! What did Kurt ever do to deserve that? Do you really need power so much that you'd hurt anyone to get it?"

"That's enough."

Santana turned to find Puck standing behind her. She sneered at him as he moved to sit beside Quinn and put his arm around her shoulder. "It's a good thing you're here, Mr. T. Keep her away from me and away from Blaine. He doesn't need her crap today." She gave the two of them one last disgusted look before taking a last breath of fresh air and hurrying back inside.

A week passed and Kurt had not regained consciousness. The doctors still couldn't find any reason for the coma and his condition was starting to deteriorate. Every morning Blaine would arrive as soon as visiting hours started and would spend the entire time by Kurt's bedside, his hand clamped tightly around Kurt's, blaming himself. Each day Kurt became a little thinner, a little paler, until this skin was so translucent it seemed paper thin.

In the early afternoon of the eight day, Blaine left Kurt's room so that the doctors could do another round of tests. He got back to the waiting room just in time to hear Rachel make a comment to Finn about needing to pack for New York. "What? You're still going?"

"Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I—"

"Kurt's lying there dying…" Blaine's voice cracked and he paused to gather himself. "He's in the hospital and you're just going to flit off to New York? What kind of friend are you?" Blaine's voice rose with each word until he was shouting at the top of his lungs. "He would never leave you if the situations were reversed. How can you abandon —"

"Blaine, sit down and shut up."

Blaine snapped his mouth shut at Finn's words, astonished at hearing the normally mild mannered man raise his voice. He sat down on the chair behind him, his anger deflating a bit.

"Rachel cares for Kurt. You know she does, but she has her own life and she can't put it on hold forever. This show could be her once-in-a-lifetime shot and she's got to take it." Finn gathered Rachel's hands in his and pulled her close. "Kurt wouldn't want her to give this up. You know he wouldn't. So, you're not going to stand in her way or make her feel bad about this and neither am I. She isn't abandoning us. I'm sure she'll come back if something…major…happens."

Helen came up behind Blaine and laid her hands on his shoulders, rubbing lightly at the tension she found there. "Finn's right. There's nothing Rachel can do here and her new life is waiting for her in New York. She isn't far away and the jet can bring her back at a moment's notice." The flexing of Blaine's jaw showed he was still unconvinced. "Come on now, don't repeat my mistakes. Don't ask her to give up something that means so much to her, no matter what it might mean to you," she said, regret coloring every word. Blaine finally nodded, if a bit ungraciously.

The rest of the week was filled with visitors dropping in to check on Kurt. Several people from the modeling agency stopped by, including Sue, who was joined by a solidly built man named Rod. Artie came by several times; always nodding sadly when he heard there was no news to report. Kathleen, Sam, and all of the other Anderson employees came to visit and it was obvious they weren't doing it just to be polite; they really cared about Kurt. Blaine lost track of the people who came and while he appreciated that they all cared enough to take the time he couldn't help but resent each time he had to recount Kurt's condition for them, each moment he was away from Kurt's side.

Two weeks after the accident there was still no change and Blaine could tell that the doctors had given up hope, even if no one came out and said it. He was sitting by Kurt's bedside one morning when he felt a touch on his shoulder. He looked up to find Brittany beside him. Santana had told him she was finally going to bring Brittany for a visit, her voice breaking as she explained that it might be Brittany's last chance to see her old friend.

"Lord Tubbington is upset that Kurt hasn't come over to play with him in a while. He just sits around depressed all day watching 'Judge Judy', which doesn't make any sense because he knows nothing about the American legal system, being British and all." She looked down at Kurt lying so still in the bed. "He looks like a paper doll I made out of vellum once. If you held him up to the light I bet you could see right through him." Blaine made a wounded sound and she reached out, her soft hand grazing his cheek. "He isn't injured, you know. His heart is broken and genies can't live without their hearts. You need to fix it for him."

She left the room as silently as she had entered it and Blaine just stared as the door closed behind her, trying to make sense of what she had said. He thought about her last words, remembering what Kurt had once said about the dangers of genies falling in love. He pulled the chair up as close as possible to the bed and reached out to grab Kurt's hand. He grasped it tightly and bent over, his lips passing over Kurt's slim fingers. "Kurt, please come back. Please. I-I love you. I love you so much and I don't know what I'll do if you..." Blaine started to cry, the tears running unchecked down his face. "Just open your eyes, OK? I know you were upset by our argument and the samovar, but it was nothing, I swear. Please come back and we'll work it all out." There was no response; no clichéd slight movement of the fingers at his pronouncement like there was in the movies.

Blaine stayed at Kurt's bedside for a few more hours, continuing to murmur in Kurt's ear about how much he loved him, about the things they would do, the places they would go, if only Kurt would open his eyes. Finally a nurse came in and told him that visiting hours were over. As he got up to leave he could see the pity in her eyes and a small part of him gave up and acknowledged that there was nothing to be done, that Kurt wasn't coming back.

He walked slowly back to the waiting room, each step harder than the last, sure he would collapse before he got to the seats. He rounded the corner and saw Rachel, who was leaving the next morning for New York, holding his mother's hand.

"I wish there was something I could do," she sighed, pulling at her skirt. "He's taking it so hard, I just—"

"Wishing doesn't help," Blaine interrupted bitterly. "If wishes helped I would…" He stopped suddenly and his eyes bounced all over the room as a thought occurred to him. A thought that swiftly became a plan. He turned abruptly and ran back to Kurt's room. He dropped down into the chair and leaned close to Kurt's ear. "Kurt, I know you can hear me. I know you're still in there and I want you to listen to me closely. You still owe me two wishes and you can't leave without granting them to me. They're part of our contract and you can't get out of that." He glanced down at Kurt and saw that there was still no reaction. He took a deep breath and continued on. "I have two wishes left and I'm going to use one of them right now. I wish for you, Kurt Hummel, to wake up right now and stay by my side for the rest of my life, happily ever after. My wish is that you don't leave me. You have to grant my wish, Kurt. You have to. Please don't say goodbye."

Blaine dropped his head down onto the bed, letting the tears flow again and grasping Kurt's hand tighter. He was about to start a new round a pleading when a slight noise caught his attention. He looked up and saw Kurt's lips part, the dry skin pulling a bit as they moved to form words.

"Your wish is granted."

The sound was weak, but joy exploded in Blaine's chest and he gasped for air as he reached out to run his fingers through Kurt's hair. "Kurt, I love you so much. We'll get through anything as long as we're together. You are the love of my life and I'm scared to death to lose you. Please don't ever leave me."

Kurt smiled a bit, his words a little stronger this time. "I promise you aren't going to lose me. I'm never saying goodbye to you."