“The ability to breathe the air and drink the water will be what the wars will be about from here on in. And its coming with alarming rapidity.” - William Shatner

Days passed, then weeks, and a new routine was formed overtop of the old one.  Wake, wash, hunt, patrol, read, make arrows, visit Blaine and send away Pudding, have sex with Blaine, return to his own bed, start again.  Certainly not everyday, but enough for Kurt to feel that he was making up for lost time as well as getting as much in as he could before spring when Blaine would go.  

Each and every time in Blaine's bed was so different, even if they were doing something they had already done before.  Sometimes a simple touch was enough to bring Kurt to climax while other times he felt greedy, wanting more, needing more, to come undone - begging and pleading until everything hit him all at once.

Blaine, at first, had asked Kurt to stay with him afterwards - to cuddle and share his bed.  After the first few times though, he stopped asking.  Kurt always got himself dressed again and left for his own bed, for the freedom and space he was used to.  He didn't want to become accustomed to sharing a bed with someone.  Getting used to having another body beside him was not something he knew he would be able to handle, especially if it was another habit he'd have to break come spring.

The sex helped Kurt in ways couldn't have anticipated.  He slept better, felt better, even moved better somehow.  The tension that had been a part of his body for so long dissipated, making Kurt realize that for a long time, he had been living with aches and pains he had just accepted as part of who he was.  Now with them gone, he was able to be a better version of himself.  He picked up on new tracks and brought in more kills than ever before.  He was able to tolerate the little nuances of people that would irritate him into leaving for the comfort of his home otherwise.  He was even able to stomach all the crab apple desserts the chefs kept hoisting upon him.

He never talked about it and Blaine never pressed the issue.  It was an unspoken acceptance that whatever they had was a ticking time bomb, waiting for the spring to detonate - but not with an explosion, something still and silent instead.  When Blaine held a hand out for Kurt to take once in town, Kurt ignored it.  He pretended not to hear Blaine's insistent compliments when they passed one another in town either, and just like staying to cuddle afterwards, Blaine stopped providing the compliments and his hand - at least when they were outside of the safety of his cabin.  Blaine had to know that asking Kurt for more was pointless.  

“Well aren't you just a ray of obnoxious sunshine.” Kitty said, looking Kurt up and down when he came into the clinic one morning.

Kurt glanced down over himself.  He hadn't been smiling when he entered, nor had he said anything yet, so how Kitty presumed he was all that pleasant was a mystery.  “I brought Mike some stuff he asked me to keep an eye out for…”

Kurt handed over a bag, which Kitty peeked into and then smirked.  “Actually, I asked for it, and Mike must have passed along the message.”  She pulled a plant out, purple flower with a long green stem and longer root included. Kurt had found it on his hunt that morning which matched the description Mike had given him. Finding plants in the middle of winter was rare, but this particular plant and several along with it had been sheltered by a circling of trees.  “Milk thistle.  Helps with heartburn… and a lot of liver problems.”

“Never figured you for a botanist.” Kurt grunted, one eyebrow arched as he tried to hide any indication that he was impressed.

She tucked the plant back into the bag, along with the others Kurt had found growing with it.  “I was a worker before this you know.  I made it my job to know what the hell I was harvesting, even if everyone else was just happy to cut it and throw it into piles.  Now that I'm in this position, maybe what I learned about plants can actually help people.  We can't rely on finding old prescriptions forever after all.”

“How do you prepare them?”

Kitty looked back to Kurt, eyes twinkling just slightly as she caught his gaze, “Pulp it down and, depending on what you want to use it for, either as simple as making it into a tea or as difficult as having it react with other things.  Each part has a different use… why do you care anyhow?”

Kurt shrugged, “Just… always on the lookout for more useful information.”

“Yeah, but you don't talk to others unless you have to.”

“Just let me know if there's any other plants you want me to watch out for.  Good bye Kitty.” Kurt said then, turning in place.  It was true he was being too friendly and he didn't want people to get used to it - especially not her.  

It wasn't the first unusual interaction he had that day.

“Kurt, can I talk to you?”

David Karofsky had come up alongside him, right in the middle of town where Kurt couldn't very well tell him where to go without making a scene.  “What is it David?”

“Well, the Christmas party is coming up and I'd like to ask you to join me.”

Kurt rolled his eyes for all to see and immediately shook his head, “First of all, Christmas was probably two weeks ago by my estimates, secondly, I don't know why you bother asking me.”

“I told you I would… and when it might have actually been doesn't matter.  It's a chance for people to get together and celebrate.”

Kurt made a tutting sound in his mouth, “Celebrate what exactly David?  That we're still alive?”

“Yes!” The bigger man spluttered, “Absolutely!  Why not?”

“Not interested.”

That elicited a groaning growl from Karofsky who threw his hands up in the air and then back over his hair, “Kurt, you're impossible!  Why don't you just give it… give ME a shot?”

“I'm not so easily won over for starters David.  Just having a dick and wanting me doesn't guarantee you'll get me.”

Of course, Kurt thought to himself, that wasn't true of everyone these days.  His mind drifted to the thought of Blaine between his thighs the night before and a sly smile graced his features.

“Fuck.  Only you would be concerned with romantic pretenses in this day and age.  Fine.  I'll ask again for the Valentine's day gathering you know.” David grunted as he left.

Which would also be scheduled probably be two weeks too late.  

“Kurt!”  Rachel called after him not even five minutes after that exchange, and once again he had to stop in place and entertain someone who exhausted him.

“Yes?”

“I know you're quite busy with… well… whatever it is you do.”  She started in on him, rounding before him so she was face to chest with him.  Rachel was ridiculously short. “But I was hoping to get you to help out with the class.”

“With what exactly?  I've already come in several times in the past couple months to do survivalism lessons.  Unless you expect me to teach them the virtues of not eating the yellow snow you might want to hold back on overusing me as a guest speaker.”

She shook her head, “No, no… it's just that I'd like to get them reading more and I thought that since you've contributed most of the books in that book dump we call a library that maybe you could sort and catalog them so it was like a real library.”

Kurt's eyebrows rose nearly right off his head, “Are you kidding me?  You know how much work that is?”

“Oh pish-posh.  Just dewey decimal them and you'll be fine.”

“I don't think you recognize just how much time that would take….”

“Well find some helpers!  This would be a great opportunity for you to network.”

She wasn't going to take no for an answer.

He let loose a sigh and shook his head, “Fine, fine… just… give me some time…”

A sharp clap struck his ears as her hands collided together, accompanied by a victorious yelp that only Rachel seemed capable of.  How her students tolerated her was beyond Kurt's capacity for understanding.  “Excellent!”

Which is what led Kurt back to the clinic,

“How mobile is Trent?” Kurt asked Mike, forgoing a greeting.

“Uh… what?  Why?” Mike seemed taken aback by the question and glanced to Trent's room and then back to Kurt.

“I need someone to help with organizing the library and since he has limited mobility and probably wouldn't be able to do most jobs around here even when he is healed up.. I thought….”

“That's brilliant Kurt.”

“Plus he and Blaine were fancy pants rich kids back before the Tides… I have a feeling he could probably recite the dewey decimal system categories off by heart if I asked him.”

Mike chuckled, then just looked over Kurt's face thoughtfully.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No… you just look different.  Better I'd say.”

“Didn't even know I was sick Mike.” Kurt huffed, arms immediately crossing over his chest defensively.

“Not in a way I could handle anyhow.  And to answer your question… we were going to move Trent out and into an apartment of his own soon anyhow, so, with help, he'd be able to do what you're suggesting.  He'd probably just need help with carrying the books.”

Kurt nodded to Mike.  It went without saying who was the best choice for helping Trent would be.  He proposed the idea to Blaine that evening while he was pulling his pants back up and tightening his belt.

“It would probably make you both feel more useful and included around town….”

Blaine was watching Kurt from where he was still laying in bed, eyes still glossy and his curls tight with the sweat coating it.  As had become usual, he was quiet after sex, which would have been fine on it's own, but the way he watched Kurt as he got dressed and left always had Kurt feeling uncomfortable afterwards - though clearly not uncomfortable enough to stop him from coming back.

This time though, Kurt was trying to get a response out of Blaine, so keeping quiet wasn't an option.  Once he had his shirt pulled over himself, he turned and looked at Blaine curiously.  “Bad idea?  Did I miss something?  Does Trent have a paper allergy?”

That got a small smile out of Blaine, at least one that cracked up the corner of his mouth.  “No…  the opposite actually.  I've had to do book runs for Trent daily the way he's whipping through books from there.  I'm just glad he's off his poetry kick.  The amount of sappy love sonnets I had to listen into when Kitty was in the room was sickening.”

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, trying to picture it.  Admittedly, his perspective on it was skewed by the fact that Kitty had only ever been caustic to him and he couldn't imagine her buying into something so sickly sweet.

“It is a good idea Kurt… Maybe once… once spring comes, Trent could function as a librarian here anyhow…”

“Have you talked to him at all about staying?”

Blaine sighed and shook his head, looking away from Kurt and towards his fire.  The sadness in his eyes drew Kurt back to the bed where he sat on the edge and set a hand on Blaine's.  “Hey… he'll be fine here.  I'll look out for him when you're gone.”

Kurt watched the adam's apple bob in Blaine's mouth and the forced blink of his eyes.  “RIght.  Thanks.”

“You could always come visit him you know… it's not like it's good bye forever.”

Blaine shook his head quickly then, “No… no… us coming up this far North was a fluke as it was.  We were following a path that we thought went further south and it actually turned us the other way… “

“That doesn't mean….”

Kurt just stopped talking.  Blaine was unresponsive and not even looking at Kurt.  He just needs time, Kurt told himself, time to come to terms with the idea.  Trent and Blaine were like best friends after all.  It would be hard to give up that brotherly bond - at least that's how Kurt imagined the pair, it's not like he knew from any experience.

“I'll call in Pudding for you.” Kurt said quietly as he got up and left the small home.  The cold air always felt good on his skin after a heated romp.

Pudding was getting weighty fast.  Her belly sagged and Kurt had quietly acknowledged that if he was going to continue his evening meetings with Blaine, he would have to take Pudding to his cabin or get used to having a voyeur dog around.  All of her unborn puppies had already been claimed by community members, eager to get their hands on a dog now that they knew the value of having a pet against the threat of Others.  Even Quinn and Noah had agreed to let Beth have one without much of a fight.  

Some were trying to tame wild dogs on their own as well, though none seemed to be able to do it as easily as Blaine had and he had been spending an increasing amount of time helping to tame those wild dogs to the point that he was purposely breeding a set so there were more puppies to go around.  Puppies were easier to train than dogs after all.

Despite that though, Kurt was still tentative about taking a dog of his own.  Pudding was an absolute sweetheart.  She has barely been with Blaine for a few weeks and was already obedient and compliant like no dog Kurt had ever known existed.  But she shed, and took up more space than Kurt had to give.  It was silly, Kurt knew, to worry about shedding when most of his outerwear and his whole bed and blanketing system was made from pelts and hides, but it irked him nonetheless.

Trent was elated to be asked to organize the library.  Apparently his months as a bed bound invalid had made him more than anxious for something to do to prove himself and Kurt had to forcibly extract himself from the hug he ended up receiving abruptly from a man who still barely walk, let alone lunge as he had at Kurt in order to give him said hug.  

He wasn't surprised to find Trent and Blaine already in the library later that day, making various stacks and talking about how to make shelving.

“Let me know if you guys need anything.” Kurt offered, and while it was meant to be just a polite offering with no actual concern over doing anything, Kurt found himself with a list of things to look out for on future scavengings as well as a plea to collect and chop wood to build the shelves.

“How many kids are there in the school anyhow?”  Blaine asked that night as he sat by Kurt, dutifully helping to make arrows as Kurt had taught him the skill a couple weeks earlier.  He still had issues keeping the sinew taunt though and kept fumbling when he tied the arrowhead on.

“MMm…. about forty I think…”

“That's a pretty big chunk of kids.. mind you if they're five to eighteen then -”

“No.  Three to fourteen.”

Blaine dropped another arrowhead on his lap, cursed under his breath and then looked back to Kurt, “Fourteen?  Why fourteen?”

“It's not like we have a competitive post secondary situation Blaine.  At best, the school is a place for the kids to be babysat while their parents work and they learn the fundamentals of what they need to know.”

Blaine made a small huff, which Kurt knew by this point meant Blaine was disagreeing with the statement but not willing to argue it.  “What qualifies as fundamental?”

“Well… basic math skills, reading, Rachel insists on music, Finn does a lot of sports with them and bores them with old sports statistics…”

“I used to be a big Buckeyes fan…” Blaine murmured, twisting a piece of sinew over his thumb and staring it down with determined focus.

“Mmm… my dad was too…”  Kurt mused, pausing his own movement for a moment as a scene of his dad yelling at some sport with a ball on their television.  He caught himself though and began wrapping the arrow shaft again, “Anyhow… they also have “experts” come in and talk to them.  How to harvest, how to spin cloth, how to cook different things….”

“Sounds not like school at all.”  Blaine grumbled, holding his tongue between his teeth as he tried to get an arrowhead to stay in place.

“And what would you have them learn Blaine?  Calculus and Latin?  What use would that be?”

“About as much use as it was before the Tides.  That's not the point.  Ha!”  He had gotten the arrowhead in place and successfully tied it down.

Kurt chuckled and took Blaine's pile of materials and swapped it with his own, “Here.  Binding them is easier.”

“Thanks….” Blaine murmured, half-insulted, half-grateful.  “Anyhow… I don't know… I just wish I had gotten the chance for high school.”

“I'm kind of glad I didn't… it was bad enough in middle school when my voice really didn't change and I didn't start growing one of those terrible wispy mustaches that seem to be a sign of puberty among boys.  The teasing was relentless.”

“Oh Kurt….” Blaine looked up.

Kurt shook his head, “It's over.  Doesn't matter.  It's not like high school would have been useful for what I'm doing now.”

“What would you have done… if the Tides hadn't happened?”

It was the first time Kurt had been asked that.  He had heard people ask it of one another all the time, especially in casual conversation, but never had the question been addressed to him.

“I really don't know… I'm not… I'm not who I was back then… I don't think I'd recognize myself from back then.”

“But you must have the memories right?”

Kurt knew.  It didn't matter that he'd never been asked before this moment - he knew what he had wanted.  Saying it aloud though… he wasn't going to do it.

“I have memories sure… just… I guess I wasn't thinking about it then.”

“Mmm… I had it all planned out.”  Blaine said, looking up at the ceiling dreamily, “Graduate, top of my class with various distinctions and honors… apply to all sorts of prestigious schools my parents would approve of… and then go into the arts to spite them!”

Kurt laughed at that openly, shaking his head, “Blaine… that's terrible!  Why would you go into something just to spite them?”

Blaine took in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly, looking back down to his arrow, “Not just to spite them.  I loved dancing and singing since I was little… but when my brother went to L.A. to pursue acting, I was warned not to follow the same foolhardy path he had by my parents… especially since I was gay.  I needed to be respectable and not a cliche according to my dad.”

The grin on Kurt's face quickly fell.  He had forgotten how bad things were for gay kids before The Tides, especially when it came to parents.  It was doubly hard to accept since his own dad had supported him to the end. “Blaine….”

Blaine just kept talking though.  “... I had just gotten out of the hospital you know?  Right before the Tides.  My parents picked me up from the hospital and dropped me off at Dalton… the prep school I was going to attend.  I had been beaten at my old school for going to a dance with another guy… My dad's attitude was like… well, you're gay, you'd better get used to life sucking.  Just the way the world is.”

Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth as he watched Blaine speak, so absorbed in the memory he was relating.  How was he supposed to react to it though?  How could he react to it?

“... and I remember, a few years ago, thinking back to how my dad said that and thinking about how no one really cares about that anymore because they're too busy surviving and even if you are gay - well, hey… at least you're not one of them.  For a moment I actually wished my dad was there so I could tell him that life doesn't have to suck like he said… then I remember that he died because of The Others… and… well hell… there's no winning is there?”

Kurt had thought that was the end of Blaine's story, setting down the arrow he had in his hands and crawling aside Blaine when the curly haired map nipped his lower lip, shook his head and looked back up, “Fuck.  I miss him still even… ten years and I miss him even though I distinctly remember feeling like I hated him.”

There wasn't anything Kurt knew to say, knew to do.  No one ever told him how to handle someone else being upset like this.  It wasn't in any of his books.  So he opted to place a hand gently on Blaine's shoulder to let him know he was there.  It was the least he could do when Blaine was opening up to him like he was.

Blaine's held dropped back down, the curls brushing over the back of Kurt's hand, and then Blaine's head followed, resting on Kurt's hand.  Emitting a weary sigh, Blaine murmured, “Sorry.  I wrecked the arrow making mood.”

Kurt smiled and let out a small chuckle as he rubbed over Blaine's shoulder, “That's okay… I've been told I can have mood swings too.”

“You?!” Blaine mock-gasped as he withdrew his head and made a faux face of shock at Kurt.  “No!”

He got a playful smack on the shoulder in response.  “Make arrows Anderson.”

“Yes sir.”  

Blaine had somehow weaseled into Kurt's evening routine weeks ago and Kurt had just accepted it.  It made the transition to the bed easier anyhow.  Arrow making went faster even with Blaine's deplorable skill at it, and Kurt had begun to teach him how to use a bow as well - which was also a lesson in patience for Kurt as Blaine didn't seem to be able to hold the bow straight for more than a second.  They always listened to music during their evenings together, commenting on the lyrics or comparing one artist to another.  

“I have an idea…”  Blaine prompted one evening, holding out a particularly worn out looking phone for Kurt to see.

“I thought that one didn't have any music on it…”

“It doesn't.  It does have a record function though and lots of room….”

“Blaine… if you are suggesting that we make a sex tape in this dystopia… -”

Blaine held his hands up with the palms out right away, “No! Not that!  Just listen….”

Kurt retracted the brows he had raised in automatic defense down and looked at Blaine, waiting for the point to be made.

“I want to record you singing.”

“You're kidding right?”

Blaine fervently shook his head, “No… that time you were singing to Beth…. it was so amazing…. I just….”  He looked at the phone in his hand, “I just want to be able to hear you sing… even when I'm gone.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  He wasn't that good, especially after years of not practicing.  

“Please Kurt?”

“I'll think about it….”

Blaine's grin that followed was so huge that Kurt had to look away lest he agree right there and then and give up all semblance of power he had in making that decision, even though that face had essentially made the choice for him.  Terrible voice or not, he couldn't say no to such a sweet request as that, especially when it was Blaine asking.

“Can you trim me up?”

Despite having a go-to in town for hair and esthetic needs, Wade-Unique Adams, Blaine still insisted on having Kurt take care of his beard and hair.  

“I still think you should learn to shave yourself….” Kurt said with a shake of his head as he went to grab his scissors and a razor out of one of his bins.  “... at least before you go.”

“I like being pampered.  It's my privileged upbringing you know.”  Blaine said, tilting his head back to rest against Kurt's bed.  

“Mmmhmmm…”  Kurt set a pot of water on the fire with a rag in it and then crept to Blaine, eyeing over that persistent stubble that would turn into a thick hairy forest if he let it grow out any more.  “You know, even when I wasn't able to grow anything on my face, my dad still taught me how to shave.”

“I'm sure my dad might have, but I was left with my nanny most of the time and aside from a particularly nasty looking mole, she didn't have any facial hair to demonstrate to me how it was done.”

Kurt reached back and grabbed the rag from the quickly heated pot, wrenching the extra water from it and then laying it over the bottom half of Blaine's face to soften his skin before the shave.  “I should have figured you would have had a nanny to wipe up after you.”

Blaine made a response, though it was muffled through the rag.  Giving him a pat on the shoulder, Kurt chuckled, “Give it a second.”

He enjoyed these simple moments.  No one else around, no urgency for sex, or focus because they were in the act, but just laid back moments when they were just around one another and Kurt felt like he could let down his walls just a bit.  

He gave Blaine a thorough shave, leaving no nicks and leaving him so smooth that Kurt couldn't help but draw his fingers down the freshly cleaned face.  “Perfect.”

Post-Shave Check Courtesy of Crazie-Crissie

Blaine grinned back, “You are.”

Kurt discarded the compliment with a roll of his eyes and nudged Blaine's side, “Come on, let me tidy up that mop on your head.”

“I think you secretly like my curls.”  Blaine said as he repositioned himself with his back to Kurt.  “Your fingers are always in them…”

“They help keep me grounded.”

Kurt unfurled each curl and cut it down to a tidier length, tossing the remains into the fire where they curled up tightly and made a small stink before joining the ashes at the bottom of Kurt's fire pit.

“When Trent and I were exploring Dalton, we found the library and Trent nearly peed himself when he saw just how big the 900's were…”

“900's?”

“History stuff… Trent loves a good book on war.  Anyhow… the library in town had a sorry lack of history books.  I think it's important that we try to get some of those books on our next trip out.”

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, searching for hidden curls that weren't as noticeable.  “People here don't like to be reminded of how far humanity has come… and how far it's gone back.”

“Still.  It's our history.  Humanity's history.  It shouldn't be lost to them.”

“It's a shame politicians have gone extinct because with words like that, you'd be a shoo-in for whatever office you'd run for.”

Blaine chuckled.  “I mean it though.  There's a lot people can learn… or even aspire to in history.  If kids like Beth don't know what we've lost, how can they know what they have to gain?”

“You turning renegade on me Anderson?”

“No… just… I don't know.  I think they should appreciate the miracle of their existence since we seemed to be almost pretty wiped out after The Tides.”

Kurt sighed, leaning back on his knees.  “You're all done.”

Blaine reached up and fingered through his hair, “You cut it shorter this time… it feels so light.”

“Turn around… let me see you from the front.”

Blaine obeyed and Kurt took in a breath.  It was such a simple thing - a shave and a haircut, but it did so much to take the age and hardships off of him.  

“You look decent.  Less homeless.”

Blaine grinned and checked out what reflection of himself that he could see in the pot.  “Oh yah.  I haven't had my hair this short in years.  I look like a kid again.”

“You always have a childlike quality to you.”  Kurt noted as he put away his tools, “You just look like a less homeless child now.”

“Mmm… it's a shame there's that meeting tonight because my weiner area could use a trim around too.”  Blaine said with a wink.

“Weiner?  Really?  That is the least sexy term you could use for it.”  Kurt said coolly as he looked back to Blaine.

“Manrod?”

Kurt arched an eyebrow.

“Dangly wangly?”

The other eyebrow went up.

“Gentleman sausage?”

He pursed his lips together tightly.

“Beef bayonet?”

Kurt couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into a fit of giggles, holding his stomach tightly as he tried not to laugh out his spleen which seemed to please Blaine to no end as the smile he bore stretched over his face in complete satisfaction.

When Kurt was finally able to catch his breath and wipe away his laughing tears, he stood up and led the way out and to the monthly meeting being held on the main street instead of the hill outside of town where it usually was held in more temperate months. When they got there, a line-up for what smelled like chili was already well formed and the pair added themselves to it.

“Thank you for coming everyone!” Rachel announced as soon as they had gotten their meal and leaned back against one of the buildings.  The loud brunette had centered herself on the street so everyone could see her.  “We'll make it quick so we're not out in the elements for too long!”

The usual reports were given - Mercedes for the workers, Carole for the clinic, Santana reported for the guards, and Finn even gave a report on what the ‘theme of the month' was going to be in the school.  Rachel then spoke again.

“Renovation of the library is nearly complete thanks to Kurt, Blaine, and Trent!”

A smattering of applause, mostly polite, though broken up by the exuberant clapping of the children in the mix who had clearly been coerced by their teacher into thinking the library was a big deal.  Blaine nodded with a smile to those who looked towards him, while Kurt just ignored it.  Trent had made it out for this meeting too, sitting on a bench with Kitty at his side not far from where Kurt stood.  He also smiled, though looked a little taken aback by the announcement and sudden attention placed on him.

“Trent not a crowd person?” Kurt whispered over.

Blaine shook his head, “Nope.”  He was also looking over towards Trent, noting his obvious discomfort as the bigger man shrunk against Kitty.

“Library is a good place for him then.”

Blaine smiled softly and nodded in reply

“Finally, the Christmas gathering is in a couple days!  Anyone who'd like to come help decorate would be more than appreciated!”

Blaine looked towards Kurt and Kurt immediately shook his head.  He would not be volunteering to make the old hall look tacky with the few decorations people had kept for a party he wasn't going to be a part of.

“Why not?”

“Not my thing.”

“Trent and Kitty are going and he can't even dance.”

“I'm patrolling anyhow.”

“Oh.”

As people left, Kurt looked again to Blaine, “You know, my not going, doesn't mean you don't have to abstain from it.  It's not like we're a thing or anything.”

Blaine didn't respond to the statement, just took in a breath and then turned towards where Kitty was helping Trent up, “I'll see you later.”

“Alright.”

Kurt had patrol that night so he didn't see Blaine until he came into the library the next day to help make some more shelves.  Blaine seemed to understand construction better than Kurt did, despite insisting that he had no training, and Kurt was good at collecting lumber and cutting it to size.  Together they built shelves against the walls and placed the books where Trent wanted them.

While he was there, Rachel came in, children in tow - all as loud as they could possibly be until Rachel hushed them.

“We just came to check up on the library!  Would you be willing to read the kids a story perhaps?”

Finn was nowhere in sight, which meant that he was probably sick or busy with something and Rachel was looking for other adults to help support her child minding.  Poor Trent, once again taken aback by the crowd of small humans now filling up the small space, was her victim.

“I'll do it.” Blaine offered after sizing up his friend's reaction.  He quickly choose a story and sat himself down on one of the benches they had also build for the library, the children sitting themselves on any available floor space they could find.  While Kurt continued to stack the shelves with books, he listened in as Blaine enchanted the children with a tale of a writer who wanted to write books, but instead wrote obituaries because he needed the money.  Blaine used different voices for the different characters, and had the children all giggling - even the older ones who were always so set on trying to be too cool to find things funny the same way the younger children did.  By the time he finished, Kurt had gotten all the books loaded onto the shelves while Trent was busy labelling the sides of more of them and creating index cards for them all.

A hand rose, then several more, and Blaine found himself answering questions.  Most were content based - what was an obituary?, how did money work?, why would someone have to pay for food?  Then, precocious Beth spoke up.

“Why can't people do what they want to do?”

“Well… he did end up writing books Beth, he just had to work for it.” Blaine offered, getting a shake of her head as part of the response.

“No.  I mean, why can't people here write if they want to?  Missus Berry says it's because of supply and demand but what if I don't want to be a worker?”

Rachel chimed in then, “Beth dear, you don't have to be a worker.  You could be a guard… or a hunter like your mom…”

“But I don't want to be those things either!”  Beth stood up then and Kurt watched the scene from between the tops of a layer of books and the bottom of a shelf he was standing behind. “Mel, George, and Tatum all want to do what Missus Adams does and cut hair and do nails n' stuff… but everyone says that there's not enough demand for there to be that many people who do that, so the first person who wants to apprentice with her will get to do it and that means Mel ‘cause she's the oldest… but what if George or Tatum are better at it… or love it more?  It's not fair…”

“Beth.” Rachel's tone became stiff - her warning voice.  

Blaine made a small shhing sound and glanced towards Beth, “Want to hear another story about that?”

Beth narrowed her eyes at Blaine as she regarded the question, a spitting image of her mother in that instant.  She nodded and sat herself back on the ground, waiting patiently for Blaine to begin.

“Well… there once was a boy who dreamed of singing.  It was all he wanted to do, and he knew that if he didn't get to sing when he grew up, it would be like he wasn't able to breath….”

How did Blaine know that? Kurt thought to himself, his own eyes narrowing as he listened into what was such a clear description of how he felt before The Tides.

“... but the Tides came, and in order to breath at all, the boy had to run.  Run away from The Others in the hopes he'd be able to save his voice to share it with the world when things returned to the way they should be…. but they didn't change back.  Life had changed around him and the stages and radios that he yearned for were no more.”

“Doesn't mean he shouldn't still've sung…” Beth grumbled in a not so quiet whisper which earned her another warning from Rachel.

“The boy was shocked to find that even though there was no more place for singers in the new world, that he was still alive and breathing.. and he figured out that life was more than just what you did to earn money… like it was in the past…. or to help out… like it is now… it was about the people you knew, what you did to keep yourself happy… happiness doesn't always mean having the job you want.  It can be found in keeping the people you care for fed and watered and safe.  It can be found in a sunrise… or in a book even… When the boy was growing up, he heard people say things like ‘Do what you love, the money will follow' and had thought that saying was about the job he had… but when he got older, he realized that saying was wrong.  It was more important to live in the moment.  Waiting for a future that might never come stops you from enjoying and experiencing the present.  If you need to work the fields in order for everyone to have the food they need, then be happy about it because it means you're feeding your family and friends so that they'll be with you and you can do things with them after work that you do enjoy.”

The room was quiet. The older children nodding to themselves as if they understood while the younger ones fidgeted in place and looked confused.  Beth was one of the nodders though, and miraculously had nothing more to add to the topic.   

“How'd you know…?” Kurt asked later, after they had left the library and after they had exhausted themselves with sex.  

“Wha?”  Blaine asked back, his chest rising high as he was still working on catching his breath.

“That story you told… I never told you I wanted to sing… how did you know that about me?”

Blaine's brow furrowed, then flattened, “You thought I was telling a story about you?”

Kurt nodded.

“That was about me Kurt…..”

“Oh….”

Blaine leaned onto his side then, propping himself on an elbow as he looked over Kurt with renewed vigor.  “You wanted to sing?”

Kurt shrugged up his shoulders noncommittally and looked away as he turned himself over and sat up, beginning the process of redressing himself.  “I guess.  I was a kid though.  What did I know?”

“You would have been amazing… on the radio with hits galore.  I probably would have been one of those insane fans waiting in line for hours just to catch a glimpse of you….”

Kurt snicked and shook his head, standing up to pull his pants up.  “Doubtful.”

“You're too hard on yourself you know.”

“Well at least you've heard me sing… I've never heard you sing and you're the one so open about what your dreams were.”

Kurt turned just in time to see Blaine frown down at the mattress before looking back up to Kurt, “I'm afraid if I sing again I'll never want to stop.  It's easy enough to tell a bunch of kids what they need to do in order to keep on going, but actually shutting down a dream like that was harder than I make it out to be.”

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine, curious, as he grabbed his sweater off the floor.  “Is that why you treasure your little electronic music boxes so much?”

Blaine nodded stiffly.  “Speaking of which, do you want one tonight?”

It was a rhetorical question.  Even if Blaine hadn't asked, Kurt would have grabbed one from the charged pile.  Blaine was clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

“Yeah.  I'll grab one on my way out.”

“Call Pudding in for me?”

“Of course.”

Kurt did grab a phone off the top of the pile and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist as he stepped out, boots crunching down into the snow fresh from a fall earlier in the day.  He cursed himself for leaving his coat back at his own home because even the seconds long walk was going to make any exposed skin of his raw with how dry and cold it was outside.  Thankfully Pudding returned quickly, her belly sagging heavily beneath her, full of pups.  It wouldn't be long until the litter was born and labrador crosses would be all over town.

He was still getting used to the idea of having a dog once Blaine was gone.  He always figured he was more of a cat person.

Of course, once Blaine was gone he could always make his old place into an extra large dog house since he was still planning to take over Blaine's much better constructed shack.  Maybe even add a little more onto the front to give it a homier feel.  

For some reason though, no matter how he wrapped his head around it, it still didn't seem to give him a sense of what home should be, and after over eight years in this place it bothered Kurt that he didn't know what home was.