Earlier in District 1, Kurt watched the train carrying his beloved fade away into the distance, taking him to whatever future Lady Fate had in store. Tears streamed down his face as he stood surrounded by friends and family, all trapped in this surreal moment in time.

Finally Mr. Anderson spoke softly, “I’m going to go take Alicia home.” He said motioning to his wife who was frozen in his arms, the tear tracks still frozen on her beautiful face.

“That sounds like a good idea. We’ll stop by later.” Burt replied. Carole nodded and after giving one last kiss to Rachel, Finn followed his mother away from the scene.

“Let’s go buddy.” Burt gently prodded his son.
Kurt just turned and walked with father away from the tracks, Burt throwing an arm over his shaking shoulders as they walked down the dirt path towards their home.

When the family reached the worn cottage, Kurt watched Finn open the door with a creak in surprise. Everything still looked the same way the left it, even though the world seemed an entirely different place.

“Let’s change these clothes and wash up. Carole, do you have anything we can take to the Andersons? They need all the support they can get right now. Alicia is in no state to be cooking or anything.” Burt said gruffly.

“Of course.” Carole replied, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Boys, want to come with us?”

“I just want to be alone for a bit.” Kurt whispered softly, eyes downcast.

“Sure thing buddy,” Burt replied reassuringly. “Just go change out and get some sleep.”

Kurt nodded and trudged his way up the stairs to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Emotionlessly, Kurt slipped out of his clothes and into a pair of pyjamas, forgetting his moisturizing routine and just curling up onto his bed, resting his head on his pillow, closing his eyes but not falling asleep.

The sound of his stepbrother and parents leaving pulled him out of his thoughts and Kurt rose, pulling a small box out from underneath his bed.

Inside, sketches, photographs, and letters from his boyfriend laid, along with a single dried corsage, the remnants of their beautiful prom night.

Kurt smiled a little at the moment, and began to leaf through the many trinkets, each bringing up a memory more beautiful than the last.

Lighting, the lamp beside him, Kurt sat and sang softly to the empty room and crinkled pages.

After the sadness, after the last words
Caught in the silence, caught in between.
After the last kiss, after the slow shock.
Before the wave hits, the flood comes rushing in.

This is the bad before the worse,
This is the storm before the storm,
And you haven’t even hit the bottom of this ocean floor
This is the bend before the break
This is the mercy not the grace
This is the proof and not the faith I try to find
There shouldn’t be a good in goodbye.

If I never loved you
If I never felt your kiss
If I never had you
I know that I… I still would have mourned you
And I would have missed your smile
If it wasn’t so worth it
This wouldn’t be, oh this wouldn’t be

The bad before the worse,
The storm before the storm,
And you haven’t even hit the bottom of this ocean floor
This is the bend before the break
This is the mercy not the grace
This is the proof and not the faith I try to find
There shouldn’t be a good in goodbye.

I know this is gonna get better
I know this has to get better

Kurt returned the box gently, but not before taking out a small photograph of Blaine and holding it close to his heart as he curled up underneath the threadbare covers.

This the bitter not the sweet
This is the take and not the keep
There shouldn’t be a good in goodbye.

Brushing his thumb across the photo once again and tucking it under his pillow, Kurt drifted into an uneasy sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------

--“Kurt! Kurt!” Blaine screamed “Help me! Please!” He thrashed and struggled as a larger boy hauled him up from behind and threw him across the rocks like a ragdoll. Blood poured down his face and matted his curls as he cried out in pain, until the boy reached over and picked Blaine up again, this time bringing a knife across his throat, a crimson necklace forming as the blade sliced through the soft skin, “Kurt!”--

“Kurt!”

“NO! BLAINE!” Kurt shot up, tangled in his sheets, sweat pouring down his forehead.

“Kurt you have to wake up.” Burt said, his eyes filled with concern.

“It was… But Blaine he… The knife…” Kurt sobbed, throwing his arms around his father.

“Shh… It was just a dream, just a dream.” Burt said soothingly, rubbing circles onto his back as Kurt’s breathing and heartbeat finally slowed.

“It’s not fair, Dad.”

“I know buddy.”

“He was always there for me. He always protected me. From Karofsky, from the bullies, from everything. Now they’re taking him there and I’m stuck here and I can’t do anything to protect him anymore.”Kurt sobbed.

“Blaine’s a tough kid. He’ll pull through. He’ll be back.” Burt whispered into his son’s ear. “I know he will.” As he rocked his son gently back to sleep.