*~*~*~* FOUR MONTHS LATER *~*~*~*

Blaine slid a finger over the delicate white petal of an orchid he was deciding on. It wasnt fair really, having to pick out flowers like this - especially when he didnt even know which type Kurt preferred. Blaine knew what he liked - bright gerber daisies, always cheery looking and offered in a variety of colors. Yet somehow, he presumed, Kurts favorite would be something more tempered, something dignified, elegant, and yet somehow simple. Something so very… Kurt.

It was in that way that Blaine selected a dozen white roses, having the clerk carefully wrap the stems, with all their thorns, in paper. He was offered a card to go along with the bouquet, but none of them seemed right. Happy Birthday? No. On your graduation… No. With Deepest Sympathy. No. None of them fit the function of the flowers.

He got some looks as he walked down the street carrying the flowers. Girls mostly, whose hope sprung up around them in light violets and blues as they saw him with the flowers. Not because they thought they were for them, but because the sight of a man with a bouquet of flowers was something society had trained in them to get excited over. Getting looked at was something he wasnt used to - mostly because he still wasnt used to being so exposed. It was different when he was at Dalton and no one knew about him and his abilities, now everyone knew, or at least made the assumption with the white band around his wrist.

Change was being made. Not in leaps and bounds like many might wish for, but in slow steps. The framework had been laid out though and that was what mattered to him. Metahumans would be allowed to integrate into society provided they registered themselves. As a show of faith, Blaine had been the first to wear the band. He was the one all over the news following the attack after all, and had become something of an icon of the positive metahuman movement. The band allowed him to be tracked, but, more importantly, also allowed him to be shocked if he utilized his abilities in a dangerous way. Many metahumans were suspicious of such controls, but to Blaine, who had lost his mother because of his early inability to monitor his own gift, it made sense.

There was a focus on education and research too. Dr. Ryan, whom Blaine had reconnected with, was leading one of the study centers up in Canada. The hope was to help young metahumans learn to control and use their abilities responsibly, and also guide them towards a job where their abilities would have a natural use.

A use like Elliotts for example. After the news broke, and Blaine had been involved in working with the leaders of the nation Kurt had saved, Elliott contacted him. He had stayed in hiding during the crisis and now was an example of how metahuman abilities could be used for the greater good. In his case, it meant providing the fireworks each night at Coney Island. Somehow, and Blaine had yet to determine out exactly how, it saved the park money to have him provide fireworks.

Santana had been hired by SeaWorld, and Brittany had tagged along, now working alongside academics in California trying to solve some of those million dollar math problems. Quinn had been contracted by the military to work on camouflage technology, and Sebastian… well Sebastian was apparently putting his abilities to good use with some undercover operation that he couldnt say much about because it was all "classified".

Isabelle, who had shaved her hair off in the wake of the attacks to prove to the authorities that she was harmless, had discovered wigs, and was now making her own line of wigs for the modern woman who doesnt have time to do her hair every day. They were a hit.

Blaine hadnt wanted to do anything after the attack. It still made his heart race up to think about how he had stretched his arms skyward when Kurt had grabbed that guy and launched them both out of the building, raining shards of colored glass down upon Blaine and the leaders left behind. He had cried out to the heavens, as Kurt got smaller and smaller in the sky and a dastardly green glow grew outwards from where he had headed into the clouds. He remembered himself though, working to free all the leaders and help them escape, but always looking upwards as he waited for Kurt to land by him, on his feet, and completely alright.

It hadnt happened that way.

Despite that, he managed to drag himself to podiums, where he spoke to crowds and the media about how casting metahumans as the enemy had led to that point. How all he had ever wanted to do when he was little was be a superhero, and how when he found that he had the ability to be one, society frowned upon him instead of accepting him. He talked about how he had lost his mother. How he wished that no other child who developed powers would ever have to go through that. He talked about the desperation in the compound, and how people had died in there. Blaine talked about everything.

Everything except Kurt, because that was too hard to talk about then.

Burt had awoken when Blaine went to check on him, just like they thought he would. It was with Burts help that Blaine worked with the leaders. Together they had lengthy discussions, came up with a hundred ideas, and disseminated the information to the media. Burt was invaluable. Down to earth, empathetic, and completely committed to making sure kids - human or metahuman - had the same rights as anyone else. He was the one who gave Blaine a pat on the back or a hug when the days ran so long that even coffee couldnt fix it. He was the shoulder Blaine cried on after he had told the world about his mother, and the one that offered up the other shoulder when Blaines brother contacted him out of the blue and asked to meet up with him.

Things had settled down now. The news was reporting on much less exciting things, and the only way anyone would know that something major had happened months ago was that the name Timothy had become as toxic as the name Adolph after World War II.

The guy that attacked the world leaders had the most unassuming name of Timothy Merletski. When his mother had been interviewed she had teared up and cried that "her Timmy-Tim was such a good boy", like all mothers do when its revealed their children are lunatics.

Regardless of how angelic his mother thought him to be, Timothy was now in a specially designed cell under several guards watches at all times. He had been crushed into pulp when Kurt had landed atop him, but began regenerating almost immediately. It was only luck that the national guard got there in time to contain him before he regained consciousness.

At first the national guard wanted to arrest Blaine as well, but several leaders, and their spouses, spoke out against it. In their eyes, Blaine had saved them, and they argued that the only way crazy metahumans could be safely fought and contained was by employing metahumans of their own. Several countries then admitted to doing this - training and employing metahumans to keep the peace.

That was when the United States exposed that they had been keeping metahumans - at least the level fives - for use in intelligence. However, they hadnt been paying or compensating them in any way. These level five metahumans had been taken from their families, essentially enslaved, and made to use their powers to help the CIA and FBI. It caused an uproar, particularly among the families that the level fives had been taken from, and the government was now in the process of paying out compensation to those level fives and their families as what they said was "a show of good faith". There were still critics. Blaine was just glad he had never been caught and used like they had been.

He was on a vacation now. Taking a break from the overscheduled politics that had taken over his life. He knew that life was only temporary, but it was exhausting, especially since he wasnt even out of his teen years. Everyone looked at him like he had the answers, and he didnt.

The cemetery where he ended up was quiet. No one else was there to visit the remains of those they loved, yet with all the angels marking graves, it still seemed busy to Blaine. Seeing anything with wings now made him think of Kurt, and with the thought of Kurt, he felt life.

He walked between the tombstones, glancing at names that were unfamiliar to him, until he came to the grave he had come to visit, a singularly impressive angel sculpted on top of it, reaching to the heavens and grasping at the air. Blaine wondered if when it was made, the creator had any idea of who it would be made for, and if he (or she) had the ability of foresight.

"Thanks for picking those up."

Blaine glanced down at the flowers and smiled, holding them out to Kurt as he landed beside him and then drawing his wings in against his back. He wore a suit, carefully tailored to accommodate his wings, which had grown back the original white feathers with the occasional black feather that had survived the burn up.

Kurt took them, brought them to his nose, and inhaled with a soft sigh before he crouched down and set them at the grave which read Elizabeth Hummel, Beloved Wife and Mother.

"Shed be proud of you."

"Thats what my dad keeps telling me."

"Who picked out the angel on the stone?"

Kurt glanced up at the sculpture, flapping his wings out once as he reflected on the memory. "I did."

"You didnt have your wings then though…"

Kurt shook his head, standing back up and looking down at the flowers he had set at his mothers grave. "No. I picked it because she liked angels and it looked like one shed like."

Blaine reached for Kurts hand, finding it ready for him, and clasped it in his own. "My mom has one like it too…."

"Shed be proud of you too you know."

"Your mom?"

"No… well yes, her too probably, but yours I mean."

Blaine forced up a small smile and dropped his head down a bit. "I hope so."

They stayed for awhile longer, not saying anything but listening to the silence of the graveyard. Blaine knew by looking at Kurt that he was speaking internally to his mother, and despite offering to leave him alone with her, Kurt refused and held Blaines hand all the tighter.

When they left, it was by flight. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and took them both into the sky with several flaps of his wings. They were staying at a cabin, privately owned, where curious eyes were limited and security was strongly enforced. Burt had sold his house when he had sold the shop, and was now about to secure an apartment in Washington D.C. as he had been offered a metahuman consulting position with the government.

"Youre looking at my wings again."

Blaine chuckled and nested his head in the space between Kurts chin and neck. "Cant help it."

"I look like a damned dalmatian dog now with these spots of black."

"You look beautiful."

"If it didnt hurt so damned much Id yank out those black feathers so theyd grow in white."

"With your luck theyd come in blue."

"Ugh."

They only had a few days before Blaine needed to get back to Washington and Kurt needed to return to where he was helping to establish a private school for metahuman youth. It was tough, having to be apart so much, but Blaine would be joining Kurt to help with the school, and finish his own schooling, once they had sorted out more of the major bills they were working on.

They spent most weekends together, which was never enough time for Kurt to fit in visiting his family and spending as much time with Blaine in bed as was possibly. It had earned them a bit of a reputation among the government staff that stayed at the apartments Blaine was living at, and one young, staunch Democrat had gone so far as to comment that being metahuman and gay must be an indication that God doesnt like you too much.

Blaine had just smirked and walked away, exaggerating his limp with pride.

Kurt had spent most of the first week after landing on Timothy in the hospital, where Dr. Ryan had travelled to observe him. He regenerated though, as he had the tendency to do, and Dr. Ryan attributed his life to using Timothy as a "meaty flesh bag" that took most of the shock out of the fall. It had been a tough week, and when Kurt was off the drugs, Blaine had given him hell for, once again, making him have to wait at his bedside and hope hed come out of it. Then, as if Blaines verbal diatribe wasnt enough, Burt came in and gave Kurt just as much hell for the same thing.

"I was busy saving people. Sorry." Kurt had grumbled, pulling up the thin hospital bed sheet over his face.

No one was sure why Kurts wing feathers kept coming in differently, and Dr. Ryan had argued that it was exactly the reason they needed more research on metahumans. Kurt said he didnt feel any more or less different than he had when he had had black wings or pure white ones before, so it was still one of the mysteries that governed him.

"Have you begun your counselling training yet?" Kurt asked as they entered their cabin, loosening his tie and meandering to the fridge.

"Next week."

Just as Timothy had suggested, Blaine was going to train to be a counsellor at the school. It still seemed odd to him, and had certainly not been a profession he had ever considered when he was little, but he knew he wanted to help others, and metahuman youth in particular, so it fit.

Kurt, meanwhile, knew he wanted to teach something at the school, but he wasnt sure what. He needed to finish his schooling first though, and that meant at least a couple more years until he had to decide for sure.

"So about the name for the school…."

"We ARE NOT paying homage to any of your comic book schools Blaine. Weve already been over this."

"Youre right. After thinking it over I realized that without any of us having an X in our name that it makes no sense, but…"

Kurt cracked open a can of pop and looked over his shoulder, waiting for Blaine to continue. He had that look on him that Blaine knew to be him readying himself to shut down an idea.

"... What about naming it after our moms?"

"I like the thought Blaine, but how many young boys trying to prove themselves are going to want to attend a school named after two women?"

Blaine sighed and flopped down on the couch, quickly joined by Kurt who straddled over top of him and fanned his wings around them both so they were cocooned in feathers. "That doesnt mean it couldnt be named based on surnames…"

"Mmm… Hummel-Anderson School for Metahumans?"

"Or Anderson-Hummel."

"Itd have to be approved by the board."

"Like theyd argue it when they already wanted your name on the thing as it is… savior of humanity."

Kurt fake-gagged at the name one news station had given him before leaning down to peck Blaines forehead. "Ill see what they think. Now, damn it Blaine, stop thinking work and give me attention."

Blaine was only too happy to comply. Life wasnt perfect, there were still so many problems theyd have to overcome, and prejudice to face, but they were together and safe, and for Blaine, it was as close to perfect as he could imagine.