It had been fine when Blaine woke up. He went downstairs and had breakfast by himself, thinking his parents were probably just asleep upstairs. He and his father didn't have to be on the road until ten, so the fact that the man wasn't downstairs at eight wasn't all that worrisome.

He went upstairs and got dressed, fully expecting that, by the time he got ready and made it back downstairs, his father would be waiting.

He wasn't.

An all-too-familiar feeling started to sink in, but he didn't want to think the worst. Maybe his parents overslept. He went back upstairs and knocked timidly on his parents' bedroom door. It was almost nine-thirty.

The knock was met with silence, and he sighed deeply and opened the door to find an empty room and a neatly made bed.

He shuts the door softly and makes his way back downstairs. Now that he's looking, he sees the note magneted to the refrigerator. His heart drops and he sighs.

It shouldn't be a surprise. He doesn't even need to read the note. His parents forgot about spending the day with him. He reaches out and takes the paper, skimming the words on the page. He laughs once without humor when he reads that his father took his mother shopping in Columbus and that he shouldn't forget to clean out the attic.

He sets the paper down on the counter and is proud of the fact that he makes it back to his room before the tears start falling.

Forgotten starts to sink in, alone following shortly after, and a fresh wave of sobs tears its way out of his chest. Though the idea of going to Ohio State wasn't totally unappealing in itself, it isn't even that Blaine had been excited about touring the campus with his father.

Since he came out, the relationship with his father had been a little awkward. It's as though his father didn't have anything to say to him anymore. He'd gone along with his father's plan to rebuild a car just so they'd have something to talk about for more than two minutes at a time, but when they finished, things went back to the way they had been before. Quiet and bordering on strained.

Today meant a lot to Blaine. He would have been able to ask his father questions and maybe they'd talk. It was wishful thinking, and Blaine knows that it shouldn't hurt this badly. It's not as though it's anything new. He can count on one hand the number of times his father came through on their plans, but for some reason, it hits him hard today.

He curls up in his bed and lets misery take him.

It's only about an hour before his phone chimes from his nightstand.

From Kurt Hummel: I hope you're having fun with your dad, sweetheart. You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home.

He sends Kurt a message and lets the phone fall beside him before he cries himself to sleep.

—

Cool fingers are sliding through his hair. "Blaine, honey?"

It's Kurt's voice and Blaine's eyes flutter open to meet concerned blue eyes. "Kurt?" he asks, groggy and sluggish, his voice rough from his tears.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's me." Kurt slides under the covers beside Blaine and pulls him against his chest. Blaine goes willingly and shifts in close. Kurt leans down to kiss his hair. "What happened?"

"My dad," Blaine whispers miserably, hiccupping around a sob. "He—Kurt, he forgot about me."

His voice cracks miserably and Kurt cradles his head against his chest as he shushes against his hair. "Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry," he breathes, dropping a kiss to the top of Blaine's head. "You don't deserve this."

"I just thought that maybe he'd remember. That this time would be different, and we could go do one thing, but I guess not." Anger is replacing the sadness and Blaine feels heat building as he continues, gaining steam. "I'm doing this for him, and he doesn't even care enough to remember. If this had been for Cooper, my dad would have woken him up at the crack of dawn and they'd have spent the entire day together."

He's bitter and hurt, and he knows he should stop and take a deep breath, but he's not ready to let it go yet. "I do everything to try and make him proud of me. I make straight A's, I joined the polo team, and I applied to the accounting program at OSU, but it's apparently not enough." Blaine's voice has turned sad again, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came and he swallows thickly and shakes his head before saying in a whisper, "But, I'm never going to be what he wants. Do you know what that's like? Do you know what it's like to always have to try and pretend to be something you're not?"

"Yes," Kurt says simply. "I do."

There's a beat of silence in which Kurt pulls Blaine closer and threads his fingers through his curls. "Blaine, I grew up in a very…traditional community. I had to hide who I was, because I was so afraid of what would happen. I'd hear stories about people getting beaten or worse, and I was terrified, so I kept it to myself. I was miserable, just like you are, so I finally decided to do something to change it. I went to my best friend's house and told him that I was gay. I was sure our friendship was going to be over, but he accepted me for who I am even when no one else did. Eventually, I came out to my family, and my father was very understanding, but my brother took some convincing. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that, if you're unhappy about pretending to be someone you're not, then stop pretending. No matter what happens, or who thinks what about you, the person you need to be honest with is yourself."

Kurt shifts until he's sitting and pulls Blaine up to look into his eyes. "Blaine, if you never listen to another word I say, please listen to this. You will never be happy if you aren't true to yourself. I know you're worried about disappointing your father, but honey, he's disappointed you by ever making you think that you need to change who you are in order to make him happy. That's not what love is."

"And…you were happy like that? Even knowing that people hated you?" Blaine asks, sniffling.

"I'd rather have them hate me for who I really am than hate myself for acting like someone I'm not," Kurt answers with a slight shrug. "It's not easy, but it's something you need to learn. Not everyone is going to approve of you, Blaine, and some people's disapproval is going to hurt more than others', but at the end of the day what matters is that you were honest with yourself and you can go to bed with a clear conscience." Kurt kisses his softly on the lips. "And I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

Blaine manages a small smile before burying his face into the side of Kurt's neck. "I love you so much, Kurt," he says in a soft breath. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kurt rests his hand on Blaine's cheek and leans away, tilting his head until he meets Blaine's eyes. "Luckily, you never have to find out as I plan to be around for a very long time." There's an almost wry smile on his lips, and Blaine can't help but smile in return. Kurt pushes forward and kisses him on the lips, sliding his thumb comfortingly across the apple of Blaine's cheek until Blaine feels himself relaxing into the touch.

When Kurt pulls away, his eyes are warm and adoring as he takes in Blaine's love drunk expression. "You are the most beautiful person I've ever met in my entire life."

"You are," Blaine argues, dazed and breathless. He leans forward and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt takes the hint and wraps his arms around Blaine, holding him in a close, intimate embrace. Kurt just holds him in silence for a few minutes, pressing occasional kisses to his head and sliding his hand across Blaine's back in the peace of the moment, but finally Kurt pulls out of the embrace, pushing away until he's holding Blaine at arm's length.

"Well, since you're plans fell through for today, why don't we go out and do something. Take your mind off things," Kurt suggests, smoothing an errant curl back into place before kissing him softly on the lips. "I haven't been to the mall here in awhile."

Blaine nods and a small smile touches his face. Kurt stands up and takes Blaine's hand to pull him off the bed and into a hug. "I know it's bad now, sweetie, but it gets better. I promise." Kurt tilts his head to kiss Blaine quickly on the lips. "You can get through this."

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine says gratefully.

"Don't mention it." Kurt's voice is bright and hopeful. "Now, let's go. Get you out of this house."

Blaine smiles and lets himself be pulled out the door.

—

The mall on a Friday afternoon is crowded, but the hectic buzz of people is a welcome change from the solitude of Blaine's thoughts. He finds himself brightening up and forgetting as Kurt drags him from store to store, chattering endlessly about the clothes. They've barely been there an hour and Kurt has bags hanging from both arms filled with clothes for himself and Blaine.

(Trying to convince Kurt Hummel not to spend money on clothes for Blaine had been an exercise in futility. Each attempt had been met by a fondly patronizing eye roll and a kiss on the forehead before the item would be draped over Kurt's arm to be purchased until finally, Blaine just gave up. It was like trying to control the weather.)

Kurt steers them toward a wooden bench and drops down to rifle through one of the bags for god knows what. They're close enough to the food court that the smell is drifting over and it makes Blaine's stomach rumble quietly.

"Hungry, sweetheart?" Kurt asks and Blaine is sure his stomach wasn't that loud, especially not loud enough to be heard over the noise of the mall, but he nods. "Alright." Kurt is smiling brightly as he takes Blaine's hand. "What are you in the mood for?"

They can't agree on what they want, so ultimately Kurt ends up getting Pizza Hut while Blaine settles for a chef's salad from some place whose sign was written in a font too fancy for him to make out the name of.

He takes chews his salad as he watches Kurt take a bite of the single greasiest slice of pizza he's ever seen.

"How can you stand to eat something like that?" Blaine asks with a quiet laugh.

"What? It's amazing," Kurt answers with his mouth full.

Blaine just shakes his head and laughs. "If you keep eating crap like that, you're not going to live to see thirty."

Kurt laughs loudly, covering his mouth to hide the fit of giggles that follows until he can manage a breathless, "I'm not really worried about it," before laughing again.

They fall back into comfortable quiet as they finish eating. Kurt takes their trash up, but when he's gone for too long, Blaine looks around to find him returning with a cup and two straws. He raises his eyebrows quizzically. "What's that?"

"I got us a milkshake," Kurt answers with a proud smile. He hands Blaine one of the straws and he sets to work ridding it of the paper as he listens to Kurt. "I thought we might share it." Blaine can't help the quiet awed laugh that escapes him and Kurt smacks his shoulder. "Shut up, I'm being cute."

"You're always cute." Blaine smiles widely and shifts his chair closer to Kurt's, taking his hand over the table as Kurt pops the lid off the milkshake and drops his straw inside. "Just when I thought you couldn't possibly get more romantic," Blaine laughs softly as he watches Kurt watching him with a gentle, adoring expression.

They drink in silence for a few moments before Blaine grins and squeezes Kurt's hand. "You do realize that we look like we belong in some 1950's soda shop, right?" Blaine's lips quirk up into a teasing smile as he takes a drink before fluttering his eyelashes playfully and propping his elbow on the table and leaning against his hand, grinning at Kurt as he asks, "So, stud, what time is the sock hop?"

Kurt chuckles and slides his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "Sorry to disappoint, but, as much as I'd love to see how you'd look with a little grease in your hair, I don't think there's a sock hop tonight," Kurt laughs before adding, "But I'm sure cleaning out the attic of your grandfather's house will be just as much fun."

"Oh, I'm sure," Blaine laughs goofily before he sighs. "We should get going, huh?"

"Probably," Kurt answers, his lips twitching down slightly.

It's a short walk to the parking garage and Blaine chatters the whole way about how he led the Warblers to win Nationals his senior year as Kurt loads the bags into the back of his SUV. He stops when he sees Kurt tense beside him. "What's the matter?"

Kurt doesn't answer. He just shifts slightly until he's positioned himself protectively in front of Blaine and it's not until Blaine looks around that he spots three guys walking toward them. He swears he can hear Kurt growl quietly as one of the men starts to speak.

"You know, there are people who bring their kids here, and I'm sure none of them want to see the little display you boys put on in the food court," a burly blond says, his voice thick with menace as he's flanked by his two friends.

Blaine fights back a whimper as he realizes all at once what the scene reminds him of. The last time he'd been in this situation, he'd ended up beaten bloody on the asphalt of the school parking lot. He wants to shove Kurt and make him run, but Kurt won't be moved. "You have no idea what you're doing right now," Kurt threatens, straightening up.

He looks far more intimidating that Blaine ever thought possible. His entire body is rigid and tensed for a fight, his eyes dead focused on the three advancing men.

"Oh, I think I do," the man who is clearly the leader says with a mean laugh. "I think my friends and I came out here to teach you boys a lesson—"

"We were just leaving," Blaine says, struggling to keep his voice even. He's not a fighter and even if he was, there is just no way he and Kurt would stand a chance against the large men. And the thought of Kurt getting hurt is just too much. He's not willing to risk it. "We're getting in the car—"

"No, you're not," the man sneers. "You need to learn a thing or two about right and wrong today, and my buddies and I happen to be excellent teachers, sissy boy."

Kurt's entire body is trembling, and at first Blaine thinks he might be just as terrified as he is, but when Kurt speaks, the anger in his tone is almost murderous. A shiver of fear runs down Blaine's spine as he realizes that Kurt looks absolutely terrifying. Dangerous. "Don't talk to him like that."

The three men laugh, clearly uncomprehending of the vitriol in Kurt's tone. They step forward until they're almost close enough to touch. "Or what? What are you going to do?"

"You need to leave," Kurt threatens, his voice cold and sharp. "If you don't leave, you are going to get hurt. I'm giving you one warning. You will not threaten my boyfriend."

The blond's face screws up in rage and he steps closer. "It's not a threat. I'm going to beat your little bitch of a boyfriend senseless while you watch me do it."

A feral snarl tears from Kurt's chest as his fist collides with the man's face with a sickening but satisfying crunch. Blood begins pouring from the blond's nose. There's no doubt about it. Kurt didn't break his nose; he crushed it. The force behind the punch must have been incredible, and the two men who were once flanking the blond are rocking back on their heels, clearly rethinking the plan.

"Unless you want me to break your jaw next, you'd better get the hell out of here," Kurt growls, and the man listens. He shoots a backward glance toward them both before shoving his friends and disappearing around the corner. Kurt spins around immediately, his rage darkened eyes now pleading and worried. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

He's shaking on his feet and Kurt pulls him into his arms. "It's okay. They're gone. They're not going to hurt you."

"K-Kurt," Blaine breathes on a shaky exhale, clinging closer to the strength and comfort of his boyfriend's body. "Go. I—I just want to go."

"Okay, honey," Kurt assures, pulling back and framing Blaine's face with his hands. "We're going. But I just want you to know that you're absolutely safe with me. No one can hurt you when I'm there. Do you understand?"

Blaine nods, whimpering, and Kurt hugs him tighter. Kurt removes one arm from around Blaine's waist and reaches up to shut the hatch of the trunk. He pulls Blaine closer with the other arm and leads him to the passenger's side, helping him into the car.

There's tense silence for a few minutes of the drive before Blaine feels strong enough to speak. "Thank you for protecting me."

Kurt turns toward him and his eyes flash with anger. "Blaine, no one should ever talk to you like that. And the idea of him hurting you—" Kurt breaks off at the thought, his voice starting to shake dangerously. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, looking decidedly more calm. "That's just not going to happen, alright."

"Still," Blaine says evenly, taking Kurt's hand across the console and forcing a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt says by way of an answer and Blaine quickly returns the words.

Now that the adrenaline has passed, Blaine remembers the task that faces him upon getting home. He's been putting it off for weeks, but now cleaning out the attic is the only thing left to do. It sends an unwelcome jolt of reality through Blaine. The stuff in the attic is the last of his grandfather's things. The house has been almost completely filled with the stuff from his old house now, and the only things remaining to remind him of his grandfather are the belongings in the attic.

He remembers going through the boxes as a kid, finding old model cars and picture albums. He'd sit up there for hours just flipping through picture books and reading the letters his grandfather sent to his grandma during the war. It was like a history lesson. He'd pull an item out of a box and show it to his grandfather. A nostalgic smile would always cross the old man's face and he'd tell the story behind the object.

To Blaine, cleaning out the treasures in the attic, most worthless aside from their sentimental value but still well-loved treasures, seems harder in a way than losing the man who once owned them.

"You're quiet," Kurt says gently, squeezing Blaine's hand and pulling him from his thoughts. "Want to tell me what you're thinking?"

Blaine bites his lip and nods. "I—I think I'd like to go to the cemetery. I haven't been since the funeral, and I just—I think I need the closure before we do this."

There's solemn understanding in Kurt's eyes and he squeezes Blaine's hand again. "Let's go then."

—

It's a short drive from where they are to the cemetery, and Kurt holds his hand the entire way. When they stop Kurt pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and climbs out of the car to open Blaine's door, lacing their fingers together as they walk toward the clearly marked gravestone.

Blaine leans down to sweep away the cut grass from the stone and steps back, reaching back to take Kurt's hand idly. Kurt, for his part, says nothing. When Blaine looks back to see his face, he finds that there's quiet contemplation on his features and pain in his eyes. He catches Blaine looking and huffs out a breath. "It never gets easier, does it?"

"No. I miss him so much. I feel like I didn't even get to say goodbye," Blaine replies, his voice flat and sad. Kurt wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and kissing his temple. Blaine glances up and catches sight of a gravemarker in the distance. He raises his arm and points. "Kurt, look." Kurt looks up and something akin to panic flutters across his face. Blaine presses on anyway. "There are some Hummels over there."

He tugs on Kurt's hand but Kurt is frozen for a second before he follows, hurrying up until he's a few steps ahead of Blaine. He starts speaking quickly as he approaches the gravestones and he gestures awkwardly. "Yeah. Those are my grandparents." Kurt's eyes flash down to a stone that's set into the ground and he lowers himself down onto it until he's sitting across the face, obscuring the name etched there.

Blaine steps forward and peers down at the adjacent two headstones that look weathered and antiquated. "Burt and Carole Hummel." Kurt nods and watches Blaine's face anxiously. "Your grandfather was fairly young when he died," Blaine notes. The stone reads that the man was born in 1900 and he died in 1956.

"Heart attack," Kurt supplies. His eyes grow distant and he casts his gaze to the dirt.

There's a third stone that's set slightly behind the man's headstone and Blaine approaches it. "Elizabeth Anne Hummel. Born April 10th, 1900. Died November 23rd 1933," Blaine reads. Pain shoots across Kurt's face again. "Who was this?"

For a moment, it looks as though Kurt has no idea what to say, and Blaine wishes he could understand the peculiar reactions Kurt keeps having today. He wants to ask if maybe Kurt just wants to go home and relax, because he looks tense and nervous, and Blaine's not sure he realizes how inexplicably taxing this is on Kurt.

Slowly, though, Kurt rallies. "Oh, um, that was my grandfather's first wife. She got very sick. The doctor's couldn't find what was wrong with her and she passed away. It was Pneumonia, they think, now."

"Couldn't they just give her Penicillin?" Blaine asks.

Kurt shakes his head. "No. Penicillin didn't start getting used to treat people until the early forties." He lets out a deep breath. "It would have saved her life. She went in to the doctor as soon as she started feeling the symptoms. It was so early that a round of antibiotics would have stopped everything."

Something tugs at Blaine's consciousness at the story and he finds himself inexplicably remembering the dream he'd had after his first date with Kurt. It's his grandfather's words to Kurt after he'd enlisted:

"…your dad lost your mom. Don't make him lose you, too."

Blaine shakes it off, because it's disjointed and doesn't seem to make any logical sense that he's remembering it now. In any case, he's pulled from his thoughts by Kurt continuing.

"But," Kurt says, his tone brightening a bit. "He married Carole and they were very happy."

"That's good," Blaine says, kneeling down in front of Kurt and kissing his forehead. "I love how compassionate you are about family members you never even got to meet. You remember all of their stories."

Kurt forces a small smile. "Well, what do any of us really have in the end except our stories?" he asks quietly.

And Blaine doesn't have an answer. He's not even sure if it was really a question. He just reaches down and strokes fingers along Kurt's cheek, pleased to find that his skin seems to be warmed by the sun.

Kurt looks up at him and his lips turn up into a small, sad smile. "May I have a minute, please?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Blaine smiles and kisses his lips quickly before turning. "I'll wait in the car."

Blaine watches as Kurt unfolds his legs and pushes himself to his feet, peering down at the headstone he'd been sitting on. There's a strange expression on his face as he kicks lightly at the edge of the marker with the toe of his shoe, as though pushing back grass threatening to overtake it. He steps over that stone to go stand at the one Blaine remembers as Elizabeth's.

Kurt speaking as he leans down and brushes grass off of the headstone and his fingers linger over the face of the marker for an immeasurable moment before he brings his hand to his lips and presses it against the name on the stone.

He treats the stone with such reverence that Blaine thinks for just a second that it seems as though it's someone Kurt genuinely loved and grieved the loss of. He does the same for Burt and Carole's stones, and he's just straightening back up from brushing grass from the face of Burt's stone when Blaine hears a voice call out toward Kurt.

Though Blaine can't make out what the voice says from where he's sitting, sheer and absolute panic flashes across Kurt's face before he turns around.

And Blaine can see the man now. He looks as though he was probably once very tall and muscular, but now he's hunched over and slightly frail in his old age. He looks as though he's at least in his eighties, Blaine notes. He thinks sadly about how this man might have actually known some of the people Kurt had been talking about, because he is warily approaching where Kurt stands.

Kurt, for his part, is absolutely frozen, looking torn between staying and bolting for the car. The man can't possibly be any threat to Kurt. Not that Blaine is entertaining the possibility that the man means harm, but in a physical confrontation, Kurt would definitely win. So, there's no real explanation that Blaine finds for Kurt's reaction.

He can see Kurt's mouth move as though he's speaking, and the approaching man freezes before faltering back a step and looking very unsteady on his feet. There's pure questioning in the man's eyes and Blaine can see his lips form the question, "Kurt?"

Kurt nods and the man falters back another step, his hand extended to point to the stone Kurt had been sitting on, and all at once, Blaine finds himself thinking that that spot is very important to figuring out the puzzle he's been trying to solve since the first time he'd laid eyes on Kurt Hummel.

There's an exchange between them and it looks as though Kurt is pleading. He's gesticulating and speaking quickly, but the man, for his part, just looks confused. But Kurt's explaining and the man takes a tentative step closer, so Kurt stops and gives him a sheepish, wary smile before shrugging.

Realization seems to dawn on the man all at once, and in an instant, he looks years younger. He darts forward to throw his arms around Kurt and wrench him off his feet in a hug that looks almost crushing, but the smile on Kurt's face is giving the sun a run for its money.

As soon as Kurt is back on his feet, the man rests his hands on either side of Kurt's face and stares at him bewildered before saying something that makes both of them laugh and they're embracing again. The man gestures toward where Blaine is sitting in the car, and he sees Kurt shake his head and the pleading expression is back. The man nods so Kurt calls out, "Blaine, come here. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

When the words are out, worry touches Kurt's features again as he glances down toward where he'd been sitting (and what is it about that damn stone?) and motions instead for the man to follow him toward the car as Blaine climbs out.

There's a smile on Kurt's face as he laces his fingers together with Blaine's and gestures toward the man. "Blaine, this is my uncle, Finn."

Blaine smiles toward Finn, but the man can't seem to tear his eyes away from Kurt. "Kurt mentioned that he had a brother named Finn, but he didn't mention an uncle," Blaine says politely. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

"It's nice to meet you, Blaine," Finn greets. "Any relation to George Anderson?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine says. "He was my grandfather. He passed away a little over a month ago."

Finn's eyes flick toward Kurt as though looking for something. "I heard about that. I'm sorry to hear it. George was a good man. Now that you mention it, there's definitely a family resemblance."

Blaine gives the man a friendly smile. "Are you here visiting family?"

"Oh, yeah," Finn jerks his thumb back toward the grave markers. "I like to come up here every once in awhile."

Blaine decides to be bold. "Yeah, Kurt told me the story about your parents getting married. Was Elizabeth or Carole your mother?"

"Carole," Finn says with a nod. "Elizabeth was my brother's mother. After she died, his father raised him on his own, but he was lonely, ya know, and my dad died right after I was born, so my mom was lonely. My brother fixed them up and they got married."

"Is that your brother who's buried on the end?" Blaine asks, and Kurt stiffens beside him, but Finn is still smiling nostalgically.

"Yeah. That's him."

"Kurt didn't tell me about him," Blaine prompts.

Finn laughs quietly. "He was interesting. He was my stepbrother, but I thought of him as my real brother. He went through hell here, but he always put aside his problems to help me with mine. He was the best friend anyone could have, even if we didn't have a lot in common."

A soft laugh comes from Kurt and Blaine turns to see a warm smile on his face. "I've heard about him," Kurt admits. "And I'm sure he appreciated all the times you stuck up for him. You were a good brother."

"So, what happened to him?" Blaine asks.

"Same thing that happened to too many kids during the war," Finn says with a resigned shrug. "He got shipped overseas to fight and he didn't come home. I miss him every day."

Blaine is almost shocked to see that there are tears beading in Kurt's eyes, and he can't fight the urge to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close. Kurt relaxes a little against his side. "I'm sorry. It's just—" He clears his throat. "I'm no good at listening to sad stories."

"Well, it's not so sad," Finn starts. "I like to think that he's happy now."

Kurt's eyes linger on Blaine's face and he squeezes Blaine's hand as he says, "I'm sure he is."

Finn and Kurt share a private smile and Blaine feels no closer to unraveling the mystery. Instead he finds himself even more confused by Kurt's continuous inexplicable reactions.

"Will you stop by later?" Finn asks before smiling a little wryly and adding, "I feel like I have seen you in decades."

Kurt laughs freely and steps forward to pull the tall man into a hug. "It's been too long. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too," Finn says, and Kurt's face lights up at the words. "I bought my mom and Burt's old place…"

There's light in Kurt's eyes and Blaine can't help but feel a spread of warmth at the pure happiness radiating off Kurt. "I'll stop by after dinner," Kurt promises. "We've got to go. I promised I'd help Blaine clean out his grandfather's attic. I'll see you later."

Finn leans forward and captures Kurt into another bone-crushing hug that has Kurt laughing against his shoulder. When he pulls back, Finn extends a hand to Blaine. "It was good to meet you, Blaine."

"You too, sir—"

He breaks off when the words cause Kurt to throw his head back and laugh loudly, an indelicate snort escaping before he has a chance to cover his mouth. "I'm sorry," he apologizes breathlessly.

Finn smiles and stage whispers, "It's okay, Blaine. He's always been a little strange. I'm glad to see he hasn't changed much."

They leave after that, Finn casting a backward glance toward Kurt before turning toward his parents' headstones. As they're pulling away, Blaine notices with absolute confusion that, when Finn looks down at his brother's headstone, a wide beaming smile spreads across his face.