Blaine tried to concentrate during the movie, but Kurt's tense face wouldn't let him. The tension eased once Blaine took Kurt's hand and began caressing it lightly with his thumb. Kurt seemed to relax a bit, even began laughing at the action on screen and the dialog scrolling past on his small captioning device. As the credits started to roll, Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine on the cheek, signing thank you.

The car ride back wasn't as free and cheerful. The closer they got to home the less Kurt danced around, his smile faded and his arms laced around himself. He looked so closed off when they pulled in front of Kurt's house, Blaine leveled him with an understanding gaze; you don't have to tell me.

Kurt shook his head before opening his door. He waited for Blaine to join him then headed to the front door. Once inside Kurt led Blaine upstairs and opened the door to what Blaine could only assume was his bedroom. Kurt pointed to the large bed and told him to sit before going to his closet. Blaine pulled off his shoes and nervously sat down on the edge of the bed. He had after all never been in a boyfriend’s bed before.

Kurt turned from the closet and a small smile broke out on his face seeing Blaine sitting stiffly on the smallest space he possibly could. With a scrapbook in his hands, he sat down leaning against the headboard and waved Blaine over. Blaine nervously scooted until he was sitting across from Kurt.

Kurt opened the book and pointed to a picture of a small boy around the age of three. His bright blue green eyes and chestnut hair made it clear it was Kurt. Kurt was dancing with a group of girls in a top hat and bow tie tap shoes on his feet. The smile on his face was unmatched by those around him.

Then Kurt began signing his story slowly and as clearly as he could even as his hands began to shake.

This was me, before. My mom always used to listen to Broadway musicals when I was younger. I fell in love with them. When I was 3 I told her I wanted to be on Broadway. She signed me up for dance classes and an acting class. She was always so supportive, my dad too, but she did everything to help me achieve a three year olds dream.

Kurt flipped a few pages, Blaine saw more recital photos, even what looked like plays before Kurt settled on a page with the smiling boy older dressed in a red shirt kissing a beautiful woman on the cheek handing her a heart shaped box of chocolates. The woman had cornflower blue eyes and Kurt's same chestnut hair, but it was long and flowing with slight waves. She was slim and had the same grace as Kurt. A laugh was preserved on her face. Knowing that Burt was now married to Finns mom gave Blaine a sinking feeling; this story wasn't going to end well for her.

This is the last picture of the two of us. I was eight, and a week after this picture was taken we both got sick. We thought it was the flu, we had fevers, vomiting, headaches. I don't remember much about it, just being miserable laying in bed and then waking up in the hospital. When I woke up my dad rushed over to me, his mouth was moving but there was no sound. I started yelling that I couldn’t hear him. I was so scared. People were rushing in, but still nothing. They spoke to my dad; I could see him. His face, I could tell he had been crying... It was awful. I knew that I was deaf, and I just wanted my mom. After the doctors left, i asked to see her. My dad couldn't even tell me my mom was dead, he had to write it on a piece of paper. I know i screamed and yelled saying it had to be a lie. I cried myself to sleep in his arms. Meningitis, not the flu. Maybe if we would have known, I would still be able to hear and my mom would be alive.

Kurt flipped the page to show a lifeless looking Kurt, such a contrast to the previous picture, standing next to a haggard looking Burt Hummel. While there was a younger quality to him, Blaine thought he looked older than the man he had met that morning. It was understandable, after all, he had just lost his wife, and his son would never hear again. Kurt had tears running down his face, and Blaine instinctively brought him into a hug before Kurt leaned back to continue.

It was awful, I only could cling to my father’s hand. He couldn't offer me comforting words. He couldn't try to sing me to sleep like my mom used to. All he could do was hold my hand, hold me during the worst part of my life.

I would like to say I handled it well, but I didn't. They tried to make me wear hearing aids, but they didn't really help and I hated how everything sounded mechanical. I broke 3 before my dad stopped trying. They tried to hire a tutor but I refused to cooperate. I didn't want to learn sign, I didn't want things to change. The doctors said I was lucky, I already had language, and I knew how to speak read and write. They said I was lucky, but I didn't feel lucky. My mom was dead, my dreams were broken everything had changed.

Kurt closed the book, his red rimmed eyes met Blaine's. My dad finally made me a deal, if I learned ASL, if I worked at learning to communicate again, he would sign me up for dance again. I thought he was crazy, but he showed me a video on YouTube of a deaf dance group from Washington dc. I agreed. I worked hard with my tutor after that, learning enough sign to start school in the fall at Haverbrook. I had to repeat 3rd grade because I missed the last three months of school, but it helped gave me more time to learn the language. I did well, especially during speech therapy. My dad let me start dancing again even let me take up piano lessons again after that Christmas.

Kurt's hands stilled again. Blaine moved beside him and pulled him into a hug. Kurt cried onto his shoulder heartbreaking noises escaping. Unable to use soothing words, Blaine rubbed his back and placed gentle kisses in his hair. He had many questions but couldn’t bring himself to voice them. He wanted to know what happened to make Kurt not talk anymore. He wanted to know why Kurt had transferred to McKinley.  he wanted to know how Mercedes knew the  language so well  he had so many questions but stayed silent.

They stay there in bed together arms entwined around each other for what felt like hours before Kurt’s sobs subsided. Once Kurt had calmed, Blaine pull back and looked him in the eyes, slowly he raised his hands and signed the one thing I kept repeating in his brain as he held Kurt in his arms. Teach me, I want to be able to talk with you. No more papers, just like this. That was all he could sign that was a limit of this communication he looked to Kurt with pleading eyes hoping he would say yes.

Slowly Kurt nodded his head before pulling Blaine into a long crushing hug. It startled Blaine when he pulled back before brings his mouth to his. Kurt's kisses were intense and needy. The need for air and understanding caused Blaine to pull back, eliciting a growl from his boyfriend.

Talk to me he signed. When Kurt didn't move to answer, Blaine tried again hating that he had to use a paper to communicate this.  I love kissing you but I want you to talk to me. Sometimes I feel like you would rather spend all our time making out.

He looked at Kurt hoping he understood what he was trying to say. Anger crossed his face as he snatched the notebook out of Blaine's hands.

When I kiss you I can forget that we have to resort to this to even have a simple conversation.

Then teach me, I'm trying. Blaine signed feeling his frustration grow.

It won't be easy, kissing you makes it easy. You don't understand!

I’m trying to understand! Blaine threw his hands up not knowing what else to do. Kurt leapt off the bed and hurried away from Blaine. Anger at Kurt's unwillingness to talk to him quickly dissipated though when he heard a strangled sob escape Kurt. Blaine rushed over and wrapped his arms around Kurt from behind. Not knowing what else to do he began signing sorry against his chest, not stopping until Kurt turned in his arms and melted into the embrace. Blaine swayed them as they held each other tightly.

After a few minutes, Kurt pulled back. I'll teach you, tomorrow. Today I just want to do this.

Blaine nodded but then extracted himself from Kurt's embrace to grab the notebook and pen off the floor. Kurt looked at him closely as he wrote.

You should be proud; I understood your story. I'm getting better. There is hope for me.

Blaine smiled cheekily at Kurt before pulling him in for a soft sweet kiss. They spent the rest of the day cuddling and kissing on Kurt bed, until Blaine heard the door slam downstairs announcing someone’s arrival home. True to his word, Sunday Kurt began really teaching Blaine sign language. They sat and talked at the Lima Bean for hours, Kurt refusing to read one word on the paper Blaine brought, instead he made Blaine try and sign whatever he wanted to say. If Blaine didn’t know the sign, Kurt made him fingerspell the word so he could explain it. The one sign Blaine grew to hate was, it depends. So much depended on the context when it came to sign language. Slowly Blaine grew more comfortable, at least signing with Kurt, who showed patience Blaine never knew he had.