Repression: The basic defense mechanism by which painful or guilt-producing thoughts, feelings, or memories are excluded from conscious awareness.

Blaine sank onto a nearby bench, his limbs shaking with exhaustion. After scouring Windsor Hall, Blaine had run the entire ground of Dalton, but had come up empty once again. He buried his face in his hands, knowing with sickening certainty that 219 was gone. And Blaine didn't even know his name. He wouldn't let things end like this. Blaine hadn't been strong enough to help 219 once before, and he was determined to make things right, no matter what the cost. It may take a small miracle, but Blaine wasn't giving up. He pulled a small notepad about of his backpack of belongings and began compiling a list of every bit of information he knew about 219, no matter how trivial. He would find him. He had to. There was simply no other alternative.

Blaine sighed as he slid the well-worn slip of paper into his pocket. No matter how long or hard he stared at it, it seemed no more information would magically appear. There were still only nine items listed in Blaine's sloppy scrawl and so far those items had proved woefully inadequate in finding the real flesh and blood Prisoner 219.

1. Goes to NYADA

2. Was in glee club (not sure which high school though – Carmel? McKinley?)

3. Lives with his dad, stepmom, and stepbrother

4. His mom died when he was young

5. Has an amazing voice

6. Brown hair

7. Blue eyes

8. Taller than me – maybe 5'10 or 5'11

9. Lives in NYC, just visiting his family in Ohio for a few weeks

The last week had felt like a waking nightmare, in some ways even more so than the prison he'd left behind. His single minded devotion to finding Prisoner 219 had meant that Blaine hadn't spent much time worrying about his family situation or how he would afford to support himself at OSU without his parents' contribution. But as Blaine came up empty time and time again, he felt himself losing hope that he would ever find the enigmatic stranger with the crystal blue eyes and voice of an angel..

Exhausted and dead on his feet, Blaine needed a place to rest and think. Just across the parking lot stood The Lima Bean where the whole ordeal had begun just weeks earlier. Blaine dug around his pocket, finally coming up with enough change to buy a cup of black coffee. But what the money would really be buying Blaine was a safe, quiet place to regroup before starting his search anew.

Kurt barely glanced up as the bell on the door jingled, signaling a new customer. They'd been unusually busy for a Friday afternoon, and Kurt still had two cappuccinos to make and a pile of dishes that needed washing. Kurt had mostly been gateful for the pace of his new job, which left precious little time to think about the things he'd witnessed in the prison. There was something refreshing about clocking in and out, knowing that he could leave the day's slights and dramas behind and simply go home at the end of the day. And when Kurt found his thoughts straying to the prison and the many awful memories it conjured up, he refocused by counting down the days until he would be back in New York. Only a week to go and he'd be out of Lima, leaving the many awful recent memories far, far behind.

“What can I get you?” Kurt asked in a bored, but polite voice, his eyes still focused on wiping down the foamed milk that had spilled on the counter.

“Oh my god, it's you,” a boy breathed, his voice much too excited for a Friday afternoon coffee run.

“Mmhm,” Kurt mumbled, bored, still not bothering to look up. “And what would you like?”

Blaine pushed through the door of the Lima Bean, the door tinkling softly as slid it open. He ambled towards the front counter dejectedly, his steps heavy with exhaustion and waning hope. His heart leapt into his throat as he glanced at the barista behind the counter reflexively, blinking rapidly as if the boy in front of him was a mirage that might disappear at any moment. It was..... It couldn't be... But it was. It was him.

“Oh my god, it's you!” Blaine exclaimed dumbly, still baffled and frankly speechless.

But the vision in front of Blaine was unmoved, giving a noncommittal hum of acknowledgment before asking for Blaine's order.

Blaine craned his neck around the espresso machine, wanting to connect with the crystal blue eyes that had haunted his every waking moment and dream for the past week. “No...” he spoke, trembling slightly. “It's YOU.”

“What can I get you?” Kurt asked, growing impatient.

“It's you.... Prisoner 219!” a voice exclaimed, causing an involuntary shiver of fear to run down the length of Kurt's spine.

Kurt's head snapped up until he was staring into the eyes of a face that had been burned into his memories. “That is NOT my name,” Kurt shouted, his voice echoing loudly across the half empty coffee shop. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed at the stunned boy in front of him.

“Prisoner 219!” Blaine exclaimed obliviously, still stunned and more than a little excited.

Blaine was thrilled when finally, the boy in front of him reacted, his head swiveling until he finally made eye contact. Blaine's excitement was tempered as he watched the color drain from his prisoner's face and the smile fall from his face.

“That is NOT my name,” he shouted causing Blaine to recoil at the bitterness and anger in his voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh god, I'm doing this wrong...again,” Blaine mumbled, horrified. He threw up his hands in his rush to explain. “No, god....I'm sorry,” he started, glancing to read the nametag haphazardly pinned to the brunette's apron. “Kurt? Hi, I didn't mean...I...I'm just so happy to see you, I....”

Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously, reaching down to cover his nametag just a half second too late. He felt anger bubbling up in his chest and he stared back at the stammering boy in front of him. This wasn't right.

“God, what's your deal? Did you follow me here, Anderson?” Kurt interrupted angrily.

“What? No...no that's not... I've been trying to find you, but I didn't follow you here... I just wanted to.... I needed to...” Blaine babbled helplessly, still reeling that his prisoner had a name and was standing right in front of him in the flesh. Blaine forced himself to take a deep breath before starting over. “I'm Blaine,” he said, extending his hand towards Kurt.

But Kurt simply looked at Blaine's hand disdainfully, making no effort to offer his own. “Blaine, huh? Guess I didn't recognize you without the stupid uniform and sunglasses.” Kurt arched an eyebrow, looking him up and down plainly. “You're shorter in person.”

Blaine blushed beet red and slowly withdrew his hand. Everything seemed to be going wrong again. He was desperate to make a connection with Kurt, to explain and seek forgiveness, but it was becoming apparent that Kurt had no intention of making that an easy task.

“So?” Kurt asked impatiently. “Why are you here, Blaine? How'd you track me down?”

“I – I've been trying to find you,” Blaine started. “Ever since the study ended actually... I just knew I needed to talk to you. I wanted...I still want to make things right. I want to explain. But they wouldn't even tell me your name, so it wasn't easy. He pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, dropping it onto the counter between himself and Kurt, smoothing out the wrinkles as he gestured towards the list of everything he knew about Kurt. “I wrote down every single thing I knew about you. Everything you told me during the experiment. I've been using it to try to track you down, and here you are,” he finished, still amazed by the series of events that had finally brought the two of them together.

Kurt automatically snatched the list off the counter, leaning forward as he began to read the list aloud. “Goes to NYADA, was in glee club... Mother died a long time ago?” He dropped the list suddenly, looking up at Blaine as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head. “What the fuck, Anderson? Are you stalking me now? Is this another weird experiment cooked up by Dr. Cohen? God, wasn't the prison enough power for you? Do you really have to fuck with my real life too?”

Blaine ran a hand over his face in frustration and panic. “God no, please Kurt... This isn't how I wanted this to go. Look, can we please just start over? I'm trying to... I want to explain myself and what happened in the prison. I need you to understand....”

“There's nothing to understand,” Kurt replied, suddenly weary. “Look, are you going to order coffee or what? Because I've got other work to do.”

“Yeah, of course. Umm...can I get a medium drip coffee, please?” Blaine asked. He hung his head, feeling unspeakably guilty, as he watched Kurt grab a cup, his hand shaking almost imperceptibly as he poured Blaine's coffee. With a deep breath, Blaine forged ahead again, knowing with sickening certainty that his words wouldn't be enough, but still needing to get them out nonetheless. “Kurt please, there are things I need to tell you. I need to apologize. I need to explain why I did what I did... I know it won't change anything, but I need you to understand.”

“Not necessary,” Kurt replied automatically, as he reached for a lid for Blaine's coffee cup.

Both Kurt and Blaine looked up as the bell on the door jingled, signaling the arrival of two more customers. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for a distraction from Blaine and all that his sudden appearance had triggered. With a nod, Kurt slid the coffee across the counter towards Blaine. “Here you go. That'll be 75 cents.”

Blaine wordlessly handed Kurt a dollar bill, his mind racing. He was running out of time.

Kurt handed back his change, nodding with finality. “Thanks. Have a great day.”

Blaine panicked as he watched Kurt try to end their interaction. Before Kurt had a chance to address the next customer, Blaine blurted out what he'd been trying to express ever since he'd first walked into the coffee shop “Kurt, please! I stopped the study for you. I was the reason the study got shut down early. It was all I could do to protect you....I know it's not enough, but I really tried,” Blaine's voice broke slightly on the last word, his eyes searching Kurt's face.

Kurt was dumbfounded, looking wordlessly at Blaine with a blank expression. Kurt startled slightly as someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He swiveled, coming face to face with his manager Julia. “Everything okay here, Kurt?”

Kurt nodded numbly, glancing from Julia to Blaine to Julia again. “I'm fine, Julia. My friend here was just about to leave,” he spoke while glaring back at Blaine, as if daring him to say otherwise.

“Oh-kay....” Julia hummed, sensing the tension. “Well, why don't you walk your...friend out and I'll help the next two customers for you. Just don't take too long, alright? I'm supposed to go on break in about ten minutes.”

“Sure,” Kurt breathed, not wanting to cause more of a scene. “I'll be right back. Thanks Julia.”

Kurt was certain that visible steam was pouring from his ears as he led Blaine outside wordlessly. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, Kurt whirled to face Blaine, fuming. “Look, this is my job. This is where I work, okay? What makes you think that you have the right to come here and bring up this shit?”

Blaine's face blanched as he threw up his hands in surrender “No, I know... I...I'm sorry, Kurt. I just – I....”

Kurt interrupted, the words tumbling out of his mouth as his fury grew. “I never asked you to protect me, okay? Quite the opposite, in fact. I told you I could take care of myself and I meant it!”

Blaine looked near tears as he reached for Kurt, needing desperately to make a tangible connection with him so that he could make himself heard. He needed Kurt to understand. Things had gotten off track so quickly and his desire to make things right had increased tenfold now that Kurt was standing in front of him. Blaine ached at the anger and pain in Kurt's voice but it seemed as if every word he spoke widened the gulf between them.

“Kurt please,” Blaine begged, his voice trembling. “I know...I'm not explaining myself well, but I just want... I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry.”

“You're sorry? A fuck lot of good that does me now... Look, the study is over. Finished. What makes you think you have the right to come here and bring up this shit all over again? That's all in the past... where it belongs! Just forget it ever happened and move on, okay? I have.” Kurt gazed at Blaine coldly, his jaw set and finality to his tone.

Blaine felt the last bit of hope go out of him as he stared back at Kurt. He forced himself to take a slow, shuddering breath, swallowing thickly against the lump in his throat and hot tears threatening to spill onto his cheek. “Okay,” he said simply, deflating a bit as he replied. “I..I understand completely. I'll leave you alone now...if that is what you want.”

Blaine sighed as Kurt shook his head vehemently, confirming that he wanted nothing more than to be done with him. “Okay, I'll leave you alone then. It may sound crazy, but I just had to know that you were okay, Kurt. I know it doesn't change anything, but I still needed to tell you how sorry I am...about everything.” Blaine forced himself to give Kurt a tight smile, feeling as if he was swallowing broken glass but going through the motions nonetheless. “I'm just glad that you're okay, Kurt. I shouldn't be surprised I guess...it was clear you were the strong one from the start.”

Kurt stiffened slightly at Blaine's parting words. He watched, transfixed as Blain forced an obviously pained smile, seeming near tears. But it was what Blaine said next that truly surprised Kurt. Kurt hadn't known how much he needed to hear someone else acknowledge how strong he was until he heard Blaine say just that. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It wasn't enough to forgive all that happened before, but it made him feel as if, maybe for the first time, that Blaine had actually seen him. Not Prisoner 219, but the real him. Kurt.

Blaine gazed at Kurt, reluctant to call an end to what he had to assume would be their last conversation. Kurt's expression seemed to soften just slightly, but it was enough to give Blaine the courage to ask one last thing of Kurt. “Okay, I don't want to...but I'll leave you alone now if that's what you want. But please, just take this,” Blaine begged, slipping a folded piece of paper into Kurt's hand. “It's my number. Please keep it and just...know that you can call me anytime, okay? If you ever need...or want to talk, or if you think of something...anything I can do to even start to make things right.” Blaine stopped, his voice trembling audibly as he tried not to burst into tears. “Just...I know you want nothing to do with me now, but please just keep the number, okay?”

After a loaded moment of silence, Blaine finally hazarded a glance up, his watery hazel eyes locking with Kurt's bright blue eyes. Kurt stared back at him, seeming to study Blaine's face before reluctantly taking the piece of paper, barely glancing at it before sliding the slip of paper into his pocket with an almost imperceptible hum of acknowledgement. It was more than Blaine had dared to hope for.

“Thank you,” Blaine whispered. “Please, please call me if you need anything, okay Kurt? I...I'm glad that I ran into you,” he continued. Blaine reached out a tentative hand, needing to make contact with Kurt one last time before he was gone. Kurt stared at him reluctantly, refusing to extend a hand to shake, so Blaine settled for giving Kurt an awkward pat on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand. “Goodbye Kurt,” he spoke with finality.

Kurt seemed relieved, settling for a nod before turning to head back inside without another word. Blaine forced himself to turn as well and propelled himself forward on shaking legs while every fiber of his being screamed to turn around and try again.

Kurt sighed audibly as the door closed behind him, grateful for the physical barrier between himself and Blaine. He pulled the slip of paper that felt as if it was burning a hole in his pocket from his pants and headed towards the trash can, intending to throw it away immediately. Kurt couldn't be sure why he felt a need to glance at Blaine's retreating form, but before he disposed of the slip of paper, he watched as Blaine stumbled towards the parking lot, swiping frantically at what Kurt assumed were tears streaming down his cheeks. But it was Blaine's posture that truly gave Kurt pause, making him look frail and weary as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And as Kurt mulled over everything Blaine had said, he found himself slipping the scrap of paper back in his pocket. Just in case.