~*~*~*~*~*~ 2 months later ~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hummel! I need that trouser order! Now! Not later!" Isabelle barked from the front of the store. Kurt hurriedly gathered the trousers he had just finished up on this morning, folded them in rapid succession, gathered them together with twine, and speed walked them to the front of the storefront where he set them on the counter by his boss.

"Sorry. Wanted to make sure they were perfect!" Kurt announced as he exhaled, and looked over the trouser pile at the customer in front of them. He had to catch his breath. The man was taller than him, with blond wavy hair that hung around his face. He was absolutely gorgeous and dressed in the finest suit Kurt had ever seen.

"There you are Mr. Crawford. Kurt is the best so you should be pleased with his work!" Isabelle smiled and went to the back room, leaving Kurt alone with the blue eyed beauty before him.

"Adam." the man introduced himself, holding a hand out over the counter which Kurt quickly took and shook gently, smiling perhaps a little too eagerly at him.

"Kurt."

"Yes, I gathered that from what the missus said." Adam said, a British accent complimenting his words. He winked at Kurt who swallowed sheepishly, looking around to make sure they were alone and no one saw the interaction.

"I haven't seen you here before." Kurt noted, trying to think of anything to keep up the conversation.

Adam nodded, "I was away in England for a bit, but I always come here to have Isabelle take care of my tailoring for my crew. You're new too. I wouldn't forget a face like yours."

Kurt nodded as a blush spread across his cheeks, "Yes. Just moved to New York a few weeks ago. I'm lucky Isabelle was hiring."

Adam nodded again in agreement. "She's the best, and if she says you're the best - then you must be amazing." Again he winked and Kurt had to nip his lower lip to stop the blush he knew was spreading over his face and giving away just how bashful this was making him.

"Have you seen any of the shows yet?" Adam asked, brows lifting as he looked at Kurt.

Kurt shook his head. He wished he had, but work had kept him busy since he moved here. He was living in a boarding house not far away, but wondered why he even did that since most nights he fell asleep sewing in the back room here anyhow. Even if he was able, the tickets cost more than he felt comfortable paying for, and the last thing he wanted was to experience being in debt again.

"Well that's a shame." Adam tsked, "Have to remedy that. Tell your boss you're taking Friday night off and I'll be here at seven to take you to the latest."

Adam grabbed the trousers, winked once more at Kurt, and then swiftly turned and exited the store, leaving Kurt slack jawed and wide eyed. Had that actually happened? Had he been asked out so publicly? No. It had to have been a mistake.

"Oh that did actually happen." Isabelle spoke up from behind him and Kurt turned and looked to her, still not recovered from the shock. She leaned against the door frame, smirking knowingly. Kurt had known her for such a short time but she seemed to have him completely figured out already.

"How... what..." Kurt stammered.

"Oh sweetpea. He saw you when he dropped those off for mending, even though you were too self absorbed in your work to see him. I know he is... and I know you are... so I dropped the information to him and he immediately perked up." She winked at him, not unlike how Adam just had, and laughed her way back into the tailoring room.

Kurt groaned and shook his head. His boss was nothing if not meddlesome, but at least she meant well, and in this particular case, it was welcome.

He had been trying to get Blaine out of his head for the past two months, with no success. His stomach still ached whenever he thought about him, and it took every ounce of willpower Kurt had not to ride back out to see how he was. It was the major reason why he worked so hard, despite Isabelle telling him to take time off. If he was working, he was distracted. If he was distracted, he could keep himself away from the train.

Maybe, just maybe, he could see Adam and find what he had lost in Blaine. At the very least, it was nice to have someone else who might be interested in him. Someone who hadn't saved him, someone Kurt could see as an equal, and someone he could start fresh with.

Kurt went back to his place in the back and began working on another order, this one for dresses. Other tailors worked around him, though most did not speak English, at least not passably, but everyone was kind enough to each other and everyone worked hard for their pay.

Technically, Kurt had been hired as a junior designer, and Isabelle frequently told him she'd be happy if he just designed, but to keep himself occupied and feeling useful, he helped with all the tailoring and stitching.

"So what are you going to wear?" Isabelle had once again creeped up on him and positioned herself in a crouch in front of him, grinning broadly.

"Ah... hadn't really thought about it..." Kurt admitted, looking down at his plain clothing. He had been so busy making clothing for orders that he hadn't made himself any new clothes in awhile, and New York was well ahead in the style department. What had been trendy and unique in Lima was pitifully plain in New York.

"Well perhaps you'll let everyone else finish this order and you'll make something new for yourself." Isabelle spoke, more of a directive than a suggestion as she pulled the fabric away from Kurt who made a small yelp of protest.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes.

"Just remember to tell everyone who asks that it was designed at Isabelle's House of Fashion!" She winked and walked back off, leaving Kurt alone. He sighed and turned toward the sketchbook he kept at his table, flipping through the designs he'd drawn since he came to New York. None of them looked right, so he went to a blank page and took his charcoal stick to begin sketching. He let his hand lead the design, his mind wandering as he drew, until he looked down and made a small whimper. In his absent mindedness, he had drawn nothing new. Instead, he had drawn the familiar black duster and black hat that Blaine always wore.

Kurt slid his sketchbook off to the side, propping his arms up on the table and setting his face into his hands. He had been working so hard to accept his memories and his nightmares had become less and less as he realized he could control some of what was going on in his dreams and fight back. Kurt recognized he was a lucid dreamer and had turned it to his advantage in overcoming his trauma. He still had a ways to go on getting better, but crowds no longer upset him and every time he felt like he was in danger, he learned to control his breathing and talk himself down to calm again.

But his subconscious still worked against him it seemed. Every time he let his mind wander, it found its way to the open plains with the sky as a ceiling and a warm, over snugly, curly haired half-blood boy beside him. It made his heart ache terribly.

When he had left the village, he traveled back to his father's ranch where he left Kikife and took the train from Lima to New York. He was honestly quite surprised, and pleased with himself, for finding his way back without Blaine leading the way. His father hadn't asked any questions, but told Kurt that he wished the best for him and hoped he found what he was looking for in New York.

Kurt hadn't... at least not yet. Sure he had found employment with a great designer and was well on his way to producing his own line of clothing with her support, but the dreams he once had for himself didn't seem to satisfy him anymore, and he didn't know what would.

So Kurt grabbed his sketchbook back and turned to one of his newer designs, and while it wasn't something he felt terribly passionate about, he got the fabric he needed and spent that night sewing himself a new suit.

Kurt was gushing.

"Oh my goodness Adam! That was the single most amazing thing I have ever seen! The dancing and singing and... oh my goodness! It was so wonderful!"

Adam laughed and walked alongside Kurt, who was more accurately bouncing along the street towards the restaurant Adam was taking him to. The play had been amazing, the actors were phenomenal, and the singing - just breathtaking. He had his eyes glued forward the entire time, afraid to even blink for fear of missing something. At some point during the performance, he had leaned forward so much that Adam had to gently nudge him back, whispering that Kurt was at risk of falling out of his seat. The touch had caused a surge in Kurt's heart rate, but he was so entranced by the play, that he was quickly distracted away from the trauma.

"How have I not gone before tonight? What on earth was I waiting for? Oh! And did you see how they all danced in unison with the girls dresses floating after them as they were held up by the men? And how..." Kurt continued on like this the entire way to the restaurant, and Adam, just smiled and indulged his rambling by remaining quiet and letting Kurt go on and on.

When they got to the restaurant, Kurt balked at the prices on the menu, but Adam smiled and reminded him that he was the one who had asked him out, so he was the one paying. It made Kurt uncomfortable, mostly because it reminded him of how Blaine had been the one to pay and take care of everything when they had been together, but Kurt shoved the discomfort deep down into his stomach and covered it with the most delicious pasta he had ever eaten.

The conversation flowed easily, and Kurt delighted in having someone to have a real dialogue with. They talked at length about their homes, their jobs, and, of course, the theatre. There were no awkward pauses, nor was there any lulls, and before they knew it, they were being shooed out the door by the proprietor of the restaurant who wanted to go home for the night.

"Thank you Adam... I really needed this. This whole night has been wonderful." Kurt said softly and abruptly, interrupting the conversation they had been having about New York fashion as Adam hailed a carriage.

Adam smiled sweetly to Kurt, "Really... the pleasure has been all mine, and I hope you'll let me take you out again."

Kurt nodded. Of course he would. He was in New York, living what was supposed to be his dream, and while it still had to be kept quiet and away from public eyes, he was more free to date another man here than he was most anywhere else, and Adam was the perfect gentleman. In fact, Adam was the embodiment of everything Kurt had longed for back in Lima - gorgeous, gentlemanly, sharing the same interests, and even had the added bonus of an exotic accent. He was the perfect package.

Adam let Kurt board the carriage and then passed the driver a few coins, informing him of the location of Kurt's boarding house. As the carriage lurched forward, Adam tipped his hat to Kurt, giving him another wink, and this time, Kurt winked back.

When he got to the boarding house, he hummed as he danced up the stairs, recounting the play once again in his mind. The daydream was rudely interrupted though by a deep, guttural voice he recognized as the landlady.

"Package came for yeh!" She spat as she shuffled in front of him from her own room at the beginning of the hall, shoving a brown wrapped parcel into his arms before he had even looked towards her. He thanked her hurriedly and went to his room, shutting the door behind him and looking curiously at the package. Sitting on the bed, he read over the addressing.

The return said it had come from Lima. He pulled off the outer layer of packaging and a note fell out which he grabbed and read.

Dear Son,

This package came by courier. I'm forwarding it onto you. I hope all is well. Write to us soon and let us know how you are!

With Love,

Burt Hummel

Kurt smiled warmly. He could hear his dad's voice in the written words and his heart ached to see his father again. He looked then at the parcel that had been within the parcel. No return to say where it had come from, but it was clearly addressed to him, so he unwrapped it, a box being the treasure within. Inside the box was another letter and something wrapped in loose fabric. He took the letter first and read it.

Kurt,

I hope this reaches you. I hope you're alright. I hope your dreams are better and that you've found the dream you wanted, wherever you are.

I know I hurt you, and I wish I could go back and change things. I wish I could figure out what to write to express what I'm feeling properly in a damn letter, but I can no better write my feelings out than say them aloud.

I've been working on staying sober. It's hard, but I am trying. I know that probably doesn't mean anything since I've lost your trust, so I've enclosed something to show you that I'm done with it.

I miss you.

-Blaine

Kurt bit his lower lip gently, hands trembling as he held the letter out before him. He had immediately gone from happy and blissful to a blend of anger and sadness. How dare Blaine send him a letter when he was just getting past him. And how hard could it be to write down how you feel? Was this Blaine's way of trying to get Kurt back? If so, it was hardly a good enough effort.

Kurt set the letter the side and unwrapped the package then, revealing Blaine's old flask. He turned it in his hands, remembering how often he had seen Blaine drink from it, remembering how he had emptied it in front of Blaine and then tossed it to the ground. This was to show Kurt that Blaine was done with drinking? He could have still as easily drank from bottles or gotten another flask. Kurt sighed and set down the flask on the bed then, looking at it warily. It was then that he noticed an engraving on the bottle of the flask. He grabbed it back and squinted, reading the text.

Cooper Anderson the III

For my father on his 35th birthday.

Your son, Blaine

Kurt furrowed up his brow. How had he not seen it before? Granted, the text was tiny and everytime Kurt had seen Blaine with the flask it was pointed up, with the bottom away from Kurt's sights as Blaine took a swig from it. Cooper must have been his dad, but then why did Blaine have the flask? Kurt was about to set the thing down again, out of exasperation, when he heard a little tinkling sound from within the flask.

He unscrewed the top and tipped it over, letting whatever it was fall out.

A ring fell onto his blanket. A simple gold band. Kurt picked it up hesitantly, handling it as if it might burst into flame at any moment. Why would Blaine have sent him a ring? On the inside of the band he noticed an inscription, and again had to squint to read. What he read caused him to choke on his own breath, and then clutch the ring tightly in his hand and to his chest.

Damn it Blaine, Kurt thought, All you had to tell me was that.

Naehame - My Husband