“I’m a widow… I’m a widow… I’m a widow…” Julia Anderson was repeating the mantra as they walked through LAX. Her tone suggested that if she kept repeating it, it might take some of the edge off. She was wrong. She was flanked by her eldest son, Cooper and youngest son, Everett. Blaine was a few steps behind clutching a suit bag. Everett did his best to soothe his grieving mother, rubbing small circles into her back as they walked, “Its ok, Mom,” he said. “Yeah, Blainers has a plan,” Cooper added. Blaine’s mind was elsewhere as he repeated his older brother, “Don’t call me that. I’ve got a plan.” His eyes were glazed over, his mind was foggy. He hadn’t been back to Ohio since graduating from Dalton Academy four years earlier. This was not a trip he was looking forward to.

“I will never understand what your father’s attraction to Ohio was.”

“Mom, he was born there,” Blaine replied wearily.

“They don’t like me there. Your father’s family were never my biggest fans,” she said almost in a panic. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.”

“It’s fine, Blaine will take care of everything on that end,” Cooper offered.

“I’ll man the phones, you won’t have to worry about anything,” Everett added.

Everett and Cooper were always the favorites Blaine thought. Cooper with his perfect grades and bright future. Everett with his athleticism and boyish charm. Blaine resented them both. He was artistic, sensitive, and completely shut off. ”Just like a woman,” his father used to say. Blaine was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed his family staring at him oddly.

“I’ll be back in two days. “

Mrs. Anderson pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Your father’s family always begrudged me for getting him out of that hell hole. Don’t expect to make any friends while you’re there.”

“Blainers doesn’t make friends.”

Blaine scoffed at Everett’s comment. If he had been any more coherent at that moment he would’ve offered some sort of response, but he just didn’t feel up to justifying it with one.

“You’ve got the navy suit?” Julia asked.

“Yes, I have the blue suit.”

“I wonder if I made your father truly happy –“

“I’ll call from Ohio. I should be there in the morning,” Blaine interrupted what was sure to be a very long diatribe about the faults in his parent’s marriage.

“We have a plan,” Cooper said firmly.

“We’ve got a plan,” Everett repeated.

“Don’t let them drag you down. They’ll try anything. You go back there a… Successful young man, Blaine Anderson. Hold your head high.” Julia Anderson was nothing if not publicly supportive of her middle son; privately she never paid much attention. Outward appearances were everything to her. Blaine shifted uncomfortably; knowing now was not the best time to bring up his recent failure. Not that his mother would care.

“Did Dad say anything else about how to… Er… Proceed?”

“No, you’re father never wanted to talk about it,” Mrs. Anderson replied. Blaine turned to head towards the airport security line. “No! Wait!” she called, “Sprinkled at sea. Your father wanted his remains sprinkled at sea.” Blaine is completely confused. His father wanted to be sprinkled at sea wearing a blue suit? How on earth was that supposed to work?

“Just tell those people I’m too bereaved to fly,” she said pulling her son into an awkward hug. Mrs. Anderson pulled away quickly. “My god, I’m a widow. I’ve got to start calling people to get his office cleaned out. Do your father proud, Blaine Theodore.” Mrs. Anderson pulled her cell phone out of her purse and wandered away leaving her sons standing together.

“I’ll call you when I land,” Blaine said, “Get a couple martinis in her and put her to bed or you’ll end up killing her.”

“Huddle up,” Cooper said draping an arm over each of his brothers’ shoulders. The three Anderson brothers pressed their foreheads together. “What did we always used to say?”

“If it’s not one thing…” Everett started.

“It’s your mother,” they finished together.

Blaine hugged both his brothers one more time and stepped into the security queue.

The suit bag seemed to pulse in his hands as he waited in line. The Business Journal article would run in six days and he was going to Ohio. Placing the suit bag onto the conveyor belt, Blaine couldn’t shake the feeling that he was running again. He had run to Dalton from the bullies at his old high school. He had run from boyfriends when things got too “real.” Now he was running from his failure straight into the arms of his father's corpse. Just put the old bastard in the blue suit and bring him back, a voice in the back of his mind scolded him. He shook the hateful thought from his head, collected the suit bag, and stepped forward only to be stopped by three TSA security officers. “We need you to come with us sir.”

Blaine is taken into a small cubicle. He sits at a stainless steel table, while a machine gun wielding TSA agent picks through his belongings. Another taps at a laptop, while the third stands guard. Blaine has decided their names are Moe, Larry, and Curly. He smiles to himself at the idea of these three meat-heads doing slapstick comedy. The smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “Something funny?” Moe asks. Blaine shakes his head, not smiling anymore.

“You made this reservation at the last minute. Business or pleasure?”

“Family emergency,” Blaine says with as little emotion as he can manage. The three guards share a look. They’ve heard this line before. Curly opens the suit bag retrieving two very different suits. One black and one blue.

“Both of those yours?” Moe asks.

“The blue one is my father’s.”

“Your dad planning on wearing this suit?” It was Curly who spoke this time.

“For eternity,” Blaine replies punching every syllable in the word eternity.

The guards all share a look, finally understanding. Larry, the door guard, gives a sympathetic pat to Blaine’s shoulder. Curly passes Blaine his things and the four men share another moment before Blaine is escorted from the security area.

Blaine is is escorted the terminal by security. He is emotionally drained, staring off into space, trying to find a moment of solitude in the bustling airport. He closes his eyes and is almost in a Zen state when he can feel someone watching him. Opening his eyes, Blaine glances across the terminal to see a man with the most beautiful blue/grey/green eyes staring at him. The man smiles awkwardly before looking anywhere but in the direction of Blaine. Blaine is tempted to approach the man, but that idea is cast aside when the gate attendant calls for the boarding of his flight. Blaine quickly glances back to where the mystery man was seated, but is quickly disappointed to find that the man is gone.

Shrugging slightly Blaine boards the plane ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind chastising him for not introducing himself to the beautiful young man.

An hour later, Blaine and his father’s suit are airborne. The flight is nearly empty save one or two other passengers in Economy. He is almost grateful for choosing to take the red-eye into Columbus. Blaine is seated in the last row of the plane, trying as hard as he can to distance himself from all human contact. Staring out the window, half-tempted to try to sleep he almost doesn’t notice that someone is seated on the arm-rest on the aisle.

Blaine jumps a bit realizing it’s the man with the beautiful eyes. Blaine’s breath catches in his throat as he speaks. “Can I help you?”

“I’m flying in first class,” the man says. “It’s just me up there and I was wondering if you’d like to upgrade?”

Blaine doesn’t answer, just opting to shake his head and return staring out the window. Mentally he’s kicking himself for not jumping at the chance to get to know this enigma of a man, but he knows that after this flight he’ll never see him again and now is hardly the time to get emotionally invested in a stranger.

The beautiful eyed boy clears his throat causing Blaine to look over. “Ok, let me put it to you like this,” the man continued, “I heard the flight attendants bitching that they were exhausted and didn’t really feel like walking all the way back here all night. Come on. You’d be doing them, and the rest of us, a favor.”

Blaine is now seated in the darkness of first class. He’s opted for the window seat again. The boy with beautiful eyes is sitting Indian-style in the aisle seat facing towards Blaine. Blaine is getting ready to go to sleep, but he knows that his new companion is just getting started. The man clicks on the over-head light directly about Blaine’s seat.

“So, Ohio. Business, pleasure, or family?” he asks cheerfully.

Blaine sighs, “My father.” Blaine hopes that was enough to end the conversation before it has even begun, but the boy with the eyes is having none of it.

“Does your father live in Columbus?”

“A place called Lima, actually.” Blaine pronounces it lee-ma. The man corrects him. “Lye-ma. Like the bean.”

“I beg your pardon?” Blaine is only slightly taken aback.

“You pronounced it wrong. It’s pronounced like lima bean. It’s where I’m from.”

Blaine tilts his head staring into the man’s eyes; he can feel himself getting lost in them.

“I hope you have someone to drive you from Columbus to Lima. The roads are horrible and it’s easy to get lost.”

Blaine shakes himself out of his stupor. Now is NOT the time he tells himself. “I’ll keep that in mind,” is what he says out loud. Blaine smiles politely, reaching up and clicks off the light, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

The man with the beautiful eyes doesn’t even register the brush off. “I’ll draw you a map.” He reaches up and clicks the light back on.

Blaine is nursing a vodka soda, while Beautiful Eyes draws a map and tells Blaine his life story.

“Nick and I are in kind of a hurry-up-and-wait-pattern, right now. He’s completely brilliant. Somewhat ridiculous, but still completely brilliant.”

Blaine smiles and nods politely. He was used to this sort of thing thanks to his upbringing. He couldn’t count the number of charity events he went to as a child where he was expected to be seen and not heard.

“He goes to AADA. He’s trying to be an actor. I’m in fashion, myself. He works all the time, but absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“So, why is it a hurry-up-and-wait pattern?” Blaine asks dutifully. He’s only a little jealous of this Nick character for getting to look into this man’s stormy eyes all the time. He’s an idiot for not appreciating what he has. Blaine is surprised at the thought; he blames it on the alcohol finally taking over.

“I’m not sure. I’ll just have to hurry-up-and-wait,” the man gestures to the map; “you want to get to I-70 South. And then do not, do not, do not, do not miss exit 17B. If you miss it, you’re screwed.” The man is gesturing animatedly.

“Right. Got it,” Blaine says.

“So are you seeing anyone?”

Blaine is almost shocked by the man’s forward question, but shrugs it off. “Yeah, Sebastian.” Blaine nearly flinches at saying the name. It's still an open wound.

“And how’s that going?” the other man asks carefully.

“It’s sort of a wait-and-see thing… I waited and I saw.”

Beautiful eyes nods and hands Blaine the map. “So you’re going to visit your dad in Lima. He’s ok, right?”

Blaine considers the question, trying to figure out how much is too much information. “Yeah, he’s… He’s fine.”

The other man notices the change in Blaine’s demeanor. “Well, give him a big hug for me,” the stranger says with a smile that could light up the darkened cabin. “I’m Kurt, by the way. Kurt Hummel.” Kurt extends his hand. Blaine takes it quickly.

“Blaine Anderson.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Anderson.”

Blaine smiles a little. “Same to you Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt laughs, not loud, but loud enough to be heard. “You are quite the charmer. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

Kurt reaches up and clicks the light off signaling that this conversation is definitely over.

Blaine is only a little relieved. He didn’t realize how tired he was until the light was off and his eyelids became extremely heavy.

Blaine slept fitfully for the rest of the flight. Images of his father’s disappointed face morphing into Kurt’s haunted him. He shifts a little trying to get more comfortable in his seat.

“Go-od morning,” a familiar voice rouses Blaine from his slumber. Blaine rubs his eyes and see’s Kurt holding a glass of orange juice out for him. “Thanks,” Blaine mutters, voice heavy from sleep. Kurt smiles as Blaine takes a sip of the orange juice.

There are passengers milling around behind Kurt.

“When did we land?”

“Oh, about two or three minutes ago.”

Kurt stands and pulls the ominous suit bag down from the overhead compartment, depositing it into the seat next to Blaine. Kurt retrieves his own bag as Blaine stands. They are dangerously close to each other.

“I know we’ll probably never see each other again,” Kurt says as he pulls Blaine into a hug. “But you’ll get through this. Courage, Blaine Anderson, courage.”

Blaine takes an awkward step back knocking his head against the overhead compartment. Kurt stifles a laugh and reaches into the pocket of his cardigan. He holds out a pair of wings, the kind they give to children on flights and a coupon for Hummel Tire and Lube. “You earned your wings, Mr. Anderson.” Blaine grins a little, but looks confused at the coupon. “It’s my Dad’s shop, he owns it. Just in case you need any auto work done while you’re here.”

“Thanks, Kurt, I appreciate it,” Blaine smiles sincerely, for the first time in nearly 24 hours.

“Well, this is where I leave you. Are you ok to drive?”

“I’m fine,” Blaine replies.

“Just making sure. Enjoy the rest of your trip Blaine Anderson… Courage.” Kurt winks at him and walks off the plane.

Blaine chuckles a bit, looking back down at the coupon. He flips it over and sees that Kurt has given him his cell phone number, father’s home number, and his e-mail address. Underneath it all, in red ink, are the words: “17B, DON’T MISS IT, OR YOU’RE SCREWED!” Underneath that in black ink is the number for Triple A (“Just in case you get lost,” it says). Blaine shakes his head, smiling. He collects the garment bag and leaves the plane to what will more than likely be the second worst experience of his life in as many days.