After collapsing happily on his bed for the night, after suffering through a hangover the next morning, and after admitting to his dad that he didn't just have a sleepover at Santana's but instead ran into THE Blaine Anderson he had told his dad all about after being freed did Kurt stop to think about what had occurred the night before.

His sober, rational mind had questions.

For starters, was what happened real last night?  Did he dream it?  Or was it just a very lucid fantasy fueled by alcohol?  

No… it was definitely real.  Between the red rash around his mouth where Blaine's stubble had roughed against him during their kissing and the text from Santana asking if his lap dance was as good as hers, there was no denying it.

The next question he had for himself was: If last night was as accurate as he remembered, why the hell did he leave Blaine behind there only to dance around a pole for strangers?  What kind of idiot was he that he abandoned Blaine to that?

“He made his choice son… granted… I don't think it was a great one, especially thinking about how it's going to make him feel about himself, but it was his to make and he has to stick with it now.”  Burt said when Kurt vocalized his concern.

That made Kurt sigh and nod slowly.  Didn't make it any easier to know that Blaine, his Blaine as far as he was concerned, was putting himself on show for other guys… and girls apparently too.  At least Kurt knew that all they'd get out of him was a bulge created by a banana in a sock.

“Besides, from what I hear, pole dancing isn't the worst thing that he could have gotten mixed up in.”  Burt added on, less than helpfully.

It reminded Kurt of the lost conversation track where he asked Blaine about customers being grabby and was redirected.   Blaine shouldn't have to suffer that, especially since it was his parents who screwed up the family finances and not him.  

“And son?”

Kurt looked to his dad.

“You're going to give me that fake ID now.  Soulmate or whatever you want to call that boy, you're not engaging in any more illegal activities under my watch, and I know you.  You're probably already thinking of dipping into your savings to go visit him again there.”  Burt held out his hand.

Kurt gave the fake ID to his dad before he could hesitate.  It was true.  He was already trying to mentally calculate how many visits he could manage on his savings.  How did Santana manage to pay for it all?  God… was she really even an ex-Dent if she was that frivolous with her money?  Or was Brittany really just that special?

“How am I supposed to wait dad?”

Burt shook his head, “It's only a few more months son… you've waited two years just to find out if he was alive… you can wait a few months to see him again now that you know he is.”

“It already hurts though.” He said weakly, heart feeling like it was straining to reach something it couldn't even see.  

Kurt got a pat on the back from his dad.  “And you'll survive it even if right now it feels like you won't.  You two keep stumbling into one another like you have been so far in life, this little bump will be nothing in the end.”

“I hope you're right.”

Sleeping became difficult, and he did his best to avoid Sinful, although he sometimes purposely took an extra long bus route full of transfers just so he could drive by it.  He knew he'd never see Blaine from the outside, but something was comforting about knowing Blaine was in there.

Graduation came and went, his dad cheering him on as he walked across the stage and received his diploma, a little common and the word Citizen after the typewritten name of Kurt Hummel indicating he graduated as a normal person.  Apparently Dents who were in the system until they were nineteen got different certificates that indicated they graduated while in service.  In fact, as Kurt filled in forms for university and housing, he noticed that everything asked for proof of citizenship.   Apparently Dents running away and trying to get access to services was an issue enough they needed it.

At his graduation ceremony, he noticed a few empty seats in the crowd and imagined that Blaine was there, cheering him on as well.  How long was a few months anyhow?  Two?  Four?  Six?  

He wished he never gave his dad the ID.

After graduation, the summer.  He worked as much as he could so he could fill his savings account to make the school year easier, and then spent the last couple weeks of summer moving into the dorms at Kent and looking for a new part time job.  Kurt eventually found flexible part-time work at a coffee shop on campus, and Santana got a job at a music store in town.  She tried to convince him several times over the summer to return to Sinful with him but he finally admitted that his dad had confiscated the ID and got a tongue lashing response.

Orientation came and went, and Kurt soon found himself neck deep in assignments and work and required readings and floor meetings and daily coffee with Santana.

Four months came and went that way.

Then five.

Then six…

Then Kurt called his dad and pleaded for him to see if Blaine was still at Sinful.

“Son.  You do realize you're asking your old man to go to a place frequented by young kids and ask for a lapdance from a guy my son is clearly infatuated with right?”

“Please dad.  Please.  I need to know…”

Then the call came in a couple nights later.

“He's not there anymore Kurt.”

“What do you mean?  Did you use the description I gave you?”

“Well.. yes… except for the part about ‘pools of amber eyes that resemble chocolate melted over the eye of a kiwi….'  I just said brown.”

“He has to be there dad!  He has to!”

“The lady in charge says they have two guys.  One is a tall blonde and the other is of some asian descent.  No-one that matches your description of “sun-dusted skin like the Greeks”.  Honestly son.  I think you did this just to embarrass me.”

“I was trying to be accurate.”

“Well he's not there.  At least not anymore.”

“Where is he then?  Why hasn't he called me?”

“I can't answer that kiddo.  All I can tell you is that you need to focus on what's in front of you… school, work, friends, family….”

Kurt sighed, glancing over at the sketch he drew of Blaine from his memory he had hanging in front of his desk.  “Thanks dad… I mean it… you didn't have to go to such great lengths… but I appreciate it.”

“Honestly I'm a little relieved.  Would have made for an awkward conversation if he had been there.”

“Dad…”  Kurt whined softly.

“Yeah, yeah… I know son.  I get it.  But do me a favour and tough it out.  Maybe he just got out or something?  Maybe he's still trying to figure out things on the outside?  Remember how confused you were about phones for the first while?”

Kurt chuckled at the memory.  He had been too young to really use phones when he had been taken away and when he was freed he had a number of issues using them - either talking into them upside down, having issues with buttons, or remembering that the hyphen used in writing down phone numbers wasn't actually something that needed to be looked for and pushed to dial a number.  “Yeah… maybe you're right.”

“I hope so.  Don't let it distract you from your studies though son.”

“If anything it makes me more focused dad.  I need the distraction.”

“Alright son.  Love you.  Call me again soon.”

“Love you too.  Bye.”

Kurt held the phone in his hands for awhile after that, rotating it in the palms of his hands and thinking.  Had he read too much into that make-out session?  Did his drunken mind concoct more to that night then there actually had been?  Was his dad right?  

He looked up at the drawing of Blaine once more and sighed, pressing two fingers to his own lips and then pressing them to the drawing's lips.  “Good night Blaine…”

The answers would have to wait.