Claire didn't understand what was happening. She had been woken up by the sounds of Kurt's crying coming from the hallway. Hearing the distressed noises his father was making, she had immediately followed suit, by starting to cry herself.

His daughters crying had somehow, through the haze of pain surrounding him, gotten through to him. He was pushing himself up and stumbling down the hall towards his daughter's room.

"I'm sorry for waking you up, honey," he whispered through the tears still pouring from his eyes. He picked her up from her crib, and started rocking her slowly, until she calmed down again.

The men had followed him inside, and were standing in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of them. Once Kurt had gotten her calmed down again, Claire fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the crying.

Kurt shut the door quietly behind him as he exited the room, and went back out to the living room, sinking slowly into the cushions of the couch. He buried his face in his hands, and let himself sink back into the ball of despair and longing he had been in earlier.

He accepted some more condolences from the officers, not bothering to get up as they moved to leave. He didn't care. He didn't care if he was being rude. He didn't care about everything. Because Blaine was gone.

His body had never been found, so they had nothing to bury, but Burt still insisted that they had to have some kind of ceremony.

Burt had also suggested that they could bury an empty casket, but Kurt knew Blaine wouldn't have wanted that. It wouldn't have made sense, spending all that money on an empty box only to have it lowered into the ground and covered in dirt.

And so people began pouring in from all over the country, all wanting to pay their respects to Blaine, and offer Kurt and Claire some comfort.

Rachel and Santana were of course still living in New York. They were some of the first people to hear it, and they heard it from Kurt. Finn came from Ohio, along with Kurt's dad and Carole. Tina, Artie, Mercedes and Puck came from Los Angeles. A lot of their old NYADA friends came, and so did most of the warblers. Blaine had really left an impact on a lot of people's lives.

Claire still hadn't grasped what was going on. How could she, when she was so young. Still, she spent a lot of time crying. Mostly because that was all Kurt seemed to do. Kurt spent most of his time in bed, while Burt took care of Claire. Burt had agreed to stay for a few days, even as Carole and Finn returned home.

The first few days were rough. Kurt barely left the bed, only the knowledge that his daughter needed him being able to pull him out of his misery, even for just a few minutes at a time. Rachel and Santana had been great, offering him help and a shoulder to cry on.

They told him he shouldn't be alone. He believed them, but he couldn't muster the strength to care. Blaine was gone. Claire was never going to see her papa again. She was going to have to grow up without him. Kurt was going to grow old alone. He knew he could never find anyone like Blaine ever again.

He sat at the kitchen table, a few days after the funeral, smiling tiredly at Claire where she was laughing and flinging food everywhere as Burt tried to feed her. He absentmindedly twirled the ring still on his finger. His engagement ring. He was never going to get married now.

Later that night, after Burt had put Claire to bed and Kurt was staring absentmindedly at the television, Burt sat down next to him. "How you holding up, kid?" he asked. Kurt shrugged. He didn't know what he was supposed to answer. His dad knew he wasn't okay.

"Do you remember after your mother died," he began quietly, and Kurt looked over at him. "I shut myself off completely, from everyone and everything. I tried to keep going, but I couldn't. It hurt too much." Burt paused. Kurt had never heard him talk like this before.

"I was sure I would never be able to love anyone or anything again. I felt like I could barely even take care of you." Kurt's heart clenched painfully at his words. He remembered how his dad had acted after his mom's funeral.

Kurt even remembered how Kurt's aunt had stayed with them for a few days, cooking and cleaning around the house, making sure both he and Burt ate something. Not unlike what Burt was doing for him now.

"And I wish I could tell you that it's gonna get better soon, but it probably won't. It'll hurt a lot, and it'll be hard to cope. But one day, things will turn. You're going to wake up one day, thinking 'Hey, maybe life isn't so bad after all. Maybe I can get through this.'"

"I can't tell you exactly when this will happen, but it will. I can promise you that. It will get better somehow."

Kurt looked at Burt with teary eyes. He leaned forward, and let Burt embrace him in a tight hug.

"Thank you dad," he said, pulling away to wipe at his eyes. "For everything."

Burt nodded. "Don't even mention it, kid. It's kinda my job, y'know."

Kurt cracked a smile, and pushed himself off the couch. "I think I'm going to bed," he said, turning towards the hallway leading to his bedroom. Just as he was about to walk away, Burt spoke again. "I know this might seem like the end of the world, but it's not. I promise you, it's not. You still have people who love you. You still have Claire. Please try to focus on that too," he said.

Kurt nodded without turning to look at him, and walked the last few steps into his room, collapsing on the bed, falling asleep mere seconds after his head hit the pillow. For the first time in days, Kurt slept without dreaming. Without Blaine's vibrant eyes, soft lips and curly hair haunting his dreams.