It's on Wes's insistence the next time he goes to visit Kurt.

"You said so yourself," Wes says as he drives the short route through Lima a few days later. "He's alone, and he has no one except for you – the random stranger who showed up at his doorway."

Blaine huffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arm over his chest and staring out the window.

"And besides," Wes went on, and Blaine could hear the smirk in his voice. "How are you going to woo the guy if you never see him?"

"Wes…" Blaine sighed, trailing off and taking a deep breath.

"I know, I know," Wes replied. "You don't think you're ready for a relationship, you just got back from war, you still don't know where your life is going, blah blah blah."

"I just don't want to rush into something, Wes," Blaine said slowly. "I don't want to start something with Kurt and then have it not be what I want. Or what he wants. We've both been through a lot, from what I can gather, and starting something too quickly that isn't going to work won't do us any good."

"Always a man of logic." Wes pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, ushering for Blaine to hop out. "Are you just going to walk home?" He asked as Blaine opened the door.

"I'll call you if I need a ride," Blaine told, giving him a small smile before going to close the car door.

"Sweep him off his feet!" Wes called out the window as he pulled out of the driveway.

Blaine laughed and shook his head as he walked up to the front door. Wes, even though it'd been three years, still was the same Dalton boy Blaine knew all those years ago.

As he went to knock, Blaine replayed the same phrases that had been running through his head the whole drive to Kurt's house.

Watch what you say.

Don't say anything you'll regret.

Don't talk about the war.

Don't make him uncomfortable.

Keep it light and easy.

Keep his attention away from your arm.

He rapped on the door twice before dropping his arm, rocking a little on his heels anxiously as he waited for the door to open.

A few minutes passed, and Kurt still hadn't come to the door.

Blaine glanced behind him again, noting that Kurt's car was in the driveway. So he was home, it was just a matter of why he wasn't answering the door. He let a few more minutes pass, his heart speeding up a little at the thought of something bad happening to Kurt. What if someone had broken in? What if he was now unconscious and dying? What if –

Blaine groaned and tried to clear his mind of those thoughts. He should have guessed that the war would have made him over exaggerate everything, that he would always jump to the worst conclusions. Because, when you were at the end of the enemy's gun, that's what tended to happen.

He slowly placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, poking his head inside once the door was opened enough.

"Hello?" He called in, his eyes scanning the family room. "Kurt?"

He heard a faint scuffling sound and some murmuring before Kurt was rushing towards him, Blaine noting that his hair was a little askew as he ushered Blaine in.

"Sorry," he murmured, helping Blaine out of his jacket. For it being early fall, it was colder than Blaine would have liked. And the fact that his arm was in a sling didn't make jacket wearing any easier. "I didn't hear you."

Blaine nodded and turned to look at Kurt, his eyes widening and his heart throbbing a little as he saw Kurt's face. His forehead was creased with frown lines, his eyes red and swollen, tear stains streaking down his cheeks.

Kurt had been crying.

Kurt hung up Blaine's jacket and plopped himself down on the couch, taking a deep breath and rubbing his face with his hand.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked hesitantly, going to sit in the chair across from Kurt. And, god, he knew Kurt wasn't okay. From the look on his face, it looked like he wasfar from okay. He hesitated for a moment, hovering over the chair before deciding against it and going to sit next to Kurt on the couch. "I mean," Blaine amended after a moment, "Do you…want to talk about it?"

Kurt didn't respond for a few minutes. Blaine could hear him trying to control his breathing, his hands remaining pressed against his eyes, his body facing away from him.

"Kurt?" Blaine pressed on once it was clear Kurt wasn't going to talk. "Kurt, please…"

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered. "It's just…it's only been a year since they died. I – I haven't really been alone since then."

Blaine took a deep breath and scooted a little closer to him, his eyes worried as he looked at the man next to him. "I understand," he replied softly. "If there's anyone to talk to about being alone, it's me."

Kurt looked up then, his eyes red and worn and bloodshot. "I keep forgetting you were overseas for three years," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Please, stop apologizing," Blaine said. "You aren't doing anything wrong."

"I know," he whispered. "But – I just – it's so empty."

Blaine sighed but nodded, glancing around the house. "My brother's house is about five minutes from here," he said after a few moments. "You can stop by whenever you want."

"They don't even know me," Kurt went on. "And – I couldn't just –"

Blaine held his good hand up, signaling for Kurt to stop talking. "They already know about you, and how I'm looking out for you," he told him. "They wouldn't question you."

The two fell silent again, Kurt looking around and sighing. Blaine remembered Finn saying something about how Kurt went to school in New York, how he'd had a boyfriend and how he'd moved back once their parents died.

He couldn't imagine having to go through any of that. Sure, what he went through was bad enough, but still. Kurt was so young. He had a family, a loving one, from the looks of it. And now – they were all gone.

And then there was Blaine, with his screwed up family, juxtaposed by love and hatred, acceptance and resentment. But they were all very much alive, no matter how tattered they were.

Blaine was torn out of his thoughts by a small, warm body cuddling into his side. He glanced over to see tears streaming out of Kurt's eyes again, his arms winding around Blaine's waist, burying his head into his good shoulder as he was careful not to jostle the other one.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice muffled by Blaine's shirt. "But – I – it's sohard."

Blaine was frozen for a moment. He didn't know what he should do, if he should comfort Kurt or just let him cry into his shoulder or –

But the fact that Kurt was cuddling into a complete stranger clearly meant something, so Blaine wrapped his arm around his shoulders and hugged him gently. He shushed him quietly, murmuring softly, trying to get him to calm down.

"I miss them," Kurt cried, so quietly that Blaine almost couldn't hear him. "I miss them so much. It hurts every day, Blaine. And – they're all gone. I have no one."

"Finn," Blaine reminded him. "Finn will come back."

"You can't know that."

Blaine sighed and lifted his head up to meet Kurt's eyes. "He'll come back, Kurt," he whispered. "He'll come back."

Kurt dropped his head back down again and continued crying. His tears soaked into Blaine's t-shirt, but Blaine couldn't care less.

Once Kurt's tears died down and his breathing returned to almost normal, Blaine felt him close his eyes. He watched as his breathing calmed down even more, and he wondered if he fell asleep.

"A year ago," Kurt murmured a few minutes later, startling Blaine. "I was living in New York. I had a boyfriend, I was going to graduate from college in a few months. I had everything."

He could feel Kurt shaking a little. Blaine tightened his arm around Kurt's shoulders a little, offering him his silent support, saying without words that he didn't have to do this, that it wasn't necessary. But Kurt shook his head and went on.

"And then, around the beginning of December, my phone rang," he whispered. He let out a dry laugh, his eyes distant as if remembering it. "I remember I was sitting in a café with Declan – my boyfriend at the time – and I fished my phone out of my pocket. It was Finn, so I just turned it on silent and slid it into my bag."

Blaine gulped, his eyes never leaving Kurt's face.

"And then, later that night, I had five new voicemails," he said, so quietly Blaine had to strain to hear him. "The first one from Finn, telling me our parents had been in a car accident and were in the hospital." Kurt took a shaky breath, his eyes misting a little as he continued. "The second, also from Finn, telling me that they were in critical condition and that I should see if I could come home."

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, "You don't have to –"

Kurt shook his head again, the tears leaking out of his eyes. "The third was the same, and then the fourth one was from Finn again, saying that they didn't know if they were going to make it."

Kurt broke off for a moment, letting out a small sob.

"And the last one was from the hospital," Kurt whispered. "Exactly five hours after Finn's first call. They were calling to tell me that my father and stepmother were killed in a car accident, and that I should return home to sort out the files and papers and things."

"It takes three hours by plane to get to Ohio from New York," Kurt said. "If – If I would have answered Finn's call, I – I probably would have been able to see them one last time."

Kurt's voice faded away, the silence almost being too much for Blaine to bear.

After a few minutes, Kurt went on. "By time everything was sorted and I was out of what's known as the mourning period, I had missed to much school," he said. "So I dropped out. Declan brought all my stuff home, gave me a small kiss, and then told me that he didn't think things were going to work out between us."

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat. What boy in his right mind had the right to tell Kurt, after just losing his parents, that things weren't going to work out between them? God, Kurt was beautiful, smart, witty –

And wow, where had all that come from?

"And, just like that, I'd lost everything important to me in the span of two months."

Kurt was sobbing again, except this time, Blaine didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry for laying all this on you," Kurt whispered after a moment.

Blaine let out a dry chuckle, unconsciously tightening his grip on Kurt a little bit. "Hey, I'm the one who showed up on a stranger's front porch and introduced myself," he said. "I think I should be the one apologizing."

Kurt laughed into his shoulder, burrowing his head into Blaine's neck a little. "I'm glad you did," he murmured after a moment.

Blaine sighed, his eyes never leaving Kurt's head. "Me too," he whispered, brushing a wisp of Kurt's hair off of his forehead. "I'm glad I did, too."