"Hi, excuse me," Kurt said brightly. "I'm doing some research for a class, but I'm not sure how to find the articles I'm looking for."

The librarian, a middle-aged man around his dad's age, looked up in surprise. It was five minutes after seven on a Saturday morning. The entire library was empty except for the employees, a few elderly couples, and Kurt. His dad had been quite surprised to find him up and eating breakfast at dawn, too, but when Kurt had explained, Burt had understood. He was starting more in-depth research today, specifically around 1960. If he was going to figure this out, he had to look to see if he could find proof that Blaine was actually dead. From there, he wasn't sure what to think of such a claim, but if he found proof of what he suspected, then he could confront Blaine.

"Is there something specific you're researching?" the librarian asked, setting his pen aside.

"Lima in 1959 to 1960," Kurt answered immediately. "I really want to find newspapers from then, preferably local, like The Lima News. I'm not sure if the library carries anything like that, but– "

"We do," the man answered, standing up and motioning to the second floor. "There's a full stock of microfilms for old newspapers, censuses, and a lot of other things upstairs. I'll show you where and how to use one of the machines."

Kurt beamed at the man and followed him up to the second floor of the library. It took him a while to understand how to add the films and run through one, but eventually he got the hang of it. The librarian showed him how the microfilms were organized, and by nine o'clock, Kurt had found a dozen from 1960 that were marked The Lima News. After he set the first film in the machine, Kurt hesitated.

If he found what he thought he'd find, he could never forget it. He'd have absolute proof that Blaine was... something else. Whatever that something else was could turn their friendship and Kurt's life upside down. He didn't believe in God, or the afterlife or religion of any form. If Blaine really had died half a century ago... Kurt didn't know how he'd cope with that knowledge on a spiritual level, or what he'd choose to believe about such things again.

He was on his feet again before he'd realized it. The articles could wait for a few hours. There were other things Kurt had come to the library to look at, too. Yearbooks from before 1959 for a start. After all, he wasn't even sure if Blaine had grown up during that time. He might have just been there longer that time. Maybe. Anxious and jumpy, Kurt went back downstairs and to the back corner where the other yearbooks had been kept. He took his time, looking through all the dates until he found one for Carmel Middle School, 1958.

Kurt pulled it out, then riffled through the ones next to it, yanking out the two prior years, and then slowly walking back upstairs. He took his time, trying to prepare himself for everything he was on the brink of figuring out. It was terrifying to think that Blaine was dead. That he had been eight years ago when Kurt was a boy, and another seven or so years before that when Mr. Schuester remembered him.

Kurt took the long way around the library to the back staircase, finally settling back down at his microfilm machine and pulling his notebook of dates and notes out of his bag. There was quite a bit written down already. The first page was filled with dates and peculiarities he'd noticed before he'd started looking, then the following pages were full of what he'd found. There were lists of years he'd checked, which ones he'd found yearbook pictures for, but most of them were under the second heading, Listed but not pictured.

After taking a deep breath, Kurt flipped to the last page of notes where he'd written information down on what he'd found last night. There was information about Blaine's pictures from 1959 and 1960, and as much as he could find on Dalton's closing dates. There didn't seem to be any connection between Blaine and the old place. Kurt had no doubt Dalton had just been a random cover story for Blaine that had once been viable, considering the year Blaine had apparently lived here.

He wrote down the next year, 1958, and added Carmel Middle School to the note before he flipped the yearbook open. After ten minutes of searching, Kurt found him with the other eighth graders, looking even younger than his freshmen picture. It was startling to see Blaine's little face beaming up at him. His curls were long and loose, his eyebrows less sharp, but there was no doubt that it was Blaine.

Heart thumping faster, Kurt looked through the other two and found Blaine in both, looking more and more child-like. His eyes were starting to burn by the time he snapped the last one closed and finished his notes on it. Blaine – his old Blaine and his new Blaine – was this boy. Somehow, in some way, he was here now, not a day older than seventeen. He was happy, healthy, and alive. A million thoughts tumbled through Kurt's head, each more muddled than the next.

He hated the idea of what he might find in the newspaper microfilms. Blaine's obituary or death notice might be hidden in there. A small, simple little note that hundreds of people had overlooked half a century ago. Yet somehow it meant more than anything to Kurt. If he had been this boy, if Blaine had died– then he was, what? A ghost? An angel?

Neither idea sat well with Kurt. He didn't believe in that sort of nonsense. All religious people ever did was tell him how much God hated people like him for something he couldn't help or change. It wasn't his fault he was gay. It wasn't something to be faulted for on any level. Some people were gay and some weren't. It shouldn't make any difference, but anyone religious had always told him otherwise. His mother had believed, he knew, but it had been a long time since Kurt had listened to one of her stories about guardian angels or anything of that nature. Most of the time he tried to forget any of what she'd told him. It made it too difficult to be an atheist.

Kurt shook himself and turned the microfilm machine back on. It was quite a simple little device and within moments it was ready to go. He took his time looking through the first film, from May, 1960. There wasn't a lot of interest for him. Some articles on the Civil Rights Movement, a bad fire in Columbus, and a lot of talk about a drought in the coming months. June and July were more of the same thing. There was more talk of the drought, various articles about school zones being redone for a new high school in the area, Carmel, and talk of a hurricane that had hit Florida.

It was after four by the time Kurt reached the end of the August film. That one had been the most boring of all. Half of the articles were just talking about the McKinley High football team, their record, and their top players for the coming school year. If he hadn't been so determined to find something on Blaine, Kurt might have started skipping pages, because the name Lee Atkins was starting to drive him nuts. The boy was mentioned in every single article for the McKinley football team, and was apparently quite a star. Kurt didn't really believe any of it. The boy looked as full of himself in pictures as any of the jocks at McKinley did today.

September started with more of the same. There were countless more articles talking about the start of school and the first football game of the season on Friday night, the fourth. He'd probably started too far into 1960 to find anything on Blaine. After all, he'd based the decision on the fact that Blaine was a junior at any point in time after that. He had to have passed his sophomore year, and probably would have died in the summer or even the fall. Vision starting to blur from mindless scrolling, Kurt was about to shut the film off when an article from Saturday, the fifth, caught his attention.

It was different from the others, not exciting and hopeful, but jarring and frightening.

McKinley High Student Found Dead in Parking Lot: Football Game Postponed

The title caught Kurt completely off guard. It was exactly the thing he was looking for, but the one thing he'd been dreading finding. Kurt read the article quietly, slowing down at names and times to piece it together. Unfortunately, it didn't really give him much to go off of. There were almost no details on what had happened, and the entire first paragraph talked more about the postponed football game than the dead student. Frustrated, Kurt started scanning again until a sentence and name at the end of the article caught his eye.

The body of a student, later identified as Blaine Anderson, was found in the student parking lot behind the stadium.

Kurt had to read the sentence four times before it really sunk in. His eyes started to burn as he scrolled forward more quickly. He knew at this point that obituaries in The Lima News were towards the end of the paper, if that part had even been saved at all. After the last page of World News, Kurt paused and took a deep breath. This was it. Everything he'd been hoping and dreading could be right in this next section. If he was right, then everything he'd believed for years and everything between himself and Blaine was about to change.

The first image on the next page made Kurt's heart freeze. Blaine's sophomore school picture was at the top of the page under the title, Death Notices. Heart fluttering painfully, chest tight like he'd wrapped an ace bandage around himself, Kurt stared at the old photo for a long time. He couldn't move the page down or read what it said. But he had to. This was the answer he'd wanted to find. He'd wanted to have proof that he wasn't crazy and that Blaine really was the boy from his memories.

What did all of this mean for Blaine now? How was he still here? Why was he still here?

After several minutes of struggling to regain control of himself, Kurt finally gave up and moved the view in on the page until he could read the obituary under Blaine's photo.

Blaine Devon Anderson, 16, of Lima passed away peacefully on Saturday, September 4, 1960, at Lima Medical Center.

He was born on October 15, 1943 to James C. Anderson and Lyra B. Anderson of Lima.

Blaine was a student at McKinley High School, where he was a prominent member of the boxing team, the choir, and the band. He was also the male lead soloist in his church choir. He was already set to continue his education at Julliard in August of 1962 with a full music scholarship.

He is survived by his parents, James (49) and Lyra (41); his older brother, Cooper (27); and both his maternal and paternal grandparents.

A memorial service will be held at 10 A.M. Monday, September 6, at Carmel Catholic Church. The family will be receiving friends later that evening at their home from 5 to 7 P.M. on Treebird Lane. The burial will be private.

Tears were running down Kurt's cheeks when he finished. That was his Blaine exactly. Even without the picture he could have been certain of that. Boxing, Glee, Julliard, and an older brother named Cooper. It all fit so perfectly it frightened him. What had happened to Blaine that made him keep coming back to... life? This world instead of another? Where was he when he wasn't here, and more importantly...

More importantly, what had happened to him in that parking lot? Kurt scrolled back to the article and had the page printed off. He read it over and over, went through the rest of September, but found nothing else about Blaine's death.

His phone rang a few minutes later. Without looking, Kurt picked it up.

"H- hello?" he stammered, swiping at his eyes and nose.

"Kurt?" His dad's voice crackled in his ear, sounding alarmed and worried. "Bud, are you crying? What's wrong? Are you still at the– "

"Y- yeah, I'm almost done, but." Kurt paused to hiccup, then wiped at his eyes again. He dropped his forehead into his hand and tried to stop crying, but couldn't. "I found something. I– Dad, he... I don't know."

"Do you need me to come pick you up?" His dad asked seriously. "Don't drive if you can't– "

"I won't, Dad, I promise," Kurt assured him, shutting the machine off. "I'll be home in a little while, after I'm okay."

"Are you sure y– "

"Yes, Dad, I'm sure."

"All right," his dad sighed heavily."I'm guessing you found what you thought you would?"

"It's worse than I thought it would be," Kurt said quietly, hugging himself as he leaned back and shut his eyes. He'd stopped crying, but tears were still building behind his eyes as he tried to picture it. Blaine, broken, bruised, bloody, lying in the far corner of the student parking lot that Kurt had walked across a thousand times before. He'd never even thought about the idea that he was walking across the same spot where someone had died.

"Just be safe, all right? You can tell me everything when you get home," Burt told him gently. There was the sound of heavy machinery in the background. His dad was just leaving the garage then. "I'll see you at home."

"Okay," Kurt agreed. " I love you, Dad," he added as his eyes fell on the article about the postponed game. "More than anything."

"I love you, too, Kurt."

After they hung up, Kurt gathered up all of his copies, notes, and yearbooks. He put the books on a returns cart, and headed out to his Navigator. It was a long time before he turned the engine on or even buckled himself in.

Nothing around him felt real anymore. There was something else beyond where he was now. Another world or place or life. Something besides this life was real and somehow he had to accept that. Blaine was dead. He was here with him right now, but not really living. He was from some type of afterlife, which meant that God was a real possibility Kurt had always denied.

Scared and confused, Kurt slid his phone back out, and stared at the screen. He had every bit of information he could have wanted so that he could corner Blaine, but the idea was still daunting. Even more than that, he was hurt, too. Blaine hadn't trusted him with any of this, hadn't explained anything to him either time, and had been lying to him since he'd appeared a few weeks ago. Surely Blaine had realized that Kurt would remember him. Why was he lying? What sort of purpose did he have here that made it so he had to lie about himself?

Kurt didn't know. He didn't know if he would have believed Blaine either, but it would have eased his mind to know he wasn't crazy a few weeks ago.

He opened his messages and found Blaine's name.

Kurt [5:47 P.M.]: Hey, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? We're having that chicken bake you really liked from last week.

Blaine's reply took a little while, but they normally did. The reason why hit Kurt like a freight train. Blaine had no experience with cell phones. He'd lived in the 1950s. Cell phones and texting were a bizarre thing to him.

Blaine [5:55 P.M.]: Sure, sounds great! What time?

Kurt sent back the time for dinner and set his phone aside. He'd confront Blaine tomorrow night and demand answers. Blaine wasn't going to deny or lie his way out of this. There was no way Blaine could get out of all of this proof. Kurt only hoped he could stay calm enough to not scare Blaine off.

If Blaine had thought Kurt was acting oddly at the beginning of the week, it was nothing compared to how he was when Blaine arrived for dinner Sunday afternoon. Both of the Hummel men were behaving strangely. Burt kept starring at him for drawn out periods of time, Kurt was frowning at him when he thought Blaine wasn't looking, and they were both gazing at him like he was a dying puppy. Or a puppy that had was endlessly circling their calves until he'd been kicked a dozen times. Either option worked for the looks they were continuously giving him.

It was all very unnerving for Blaine. It was like he'd been diagnosed with some rare, incurable disease and they were waiting for him to fall over dead. Or even worse: they'd figured out that he wasn't really alive.

The very idea that Kurt had figured such a thing out so quickly was ridiculous. It had only been two weeks. Sure, Kurt was suspicious of him and he obviously remembered things he shouldn't, but there was no way he would make such a huge, leaping connection so fast. Who in their right mind would stop and think that their new friend, who happened to be similar to their old imaginary friend, was a kid that had died half a century ago?

To Blaine, there was no reason for Kurt to even suspect such a thing. It would take a long time for Kurt to piece something like that together. Information was difficult to come by when it was related to the 1950s and 1960s, even with this new Internet thing. There was no way Kurt could figure any of it out without directly asking him and Kurt wouldn't unless he had proof. The very idea of accusing someone of being dead was insane. He was safe for now, even if Kurt called him on lying or hiding things.

His slip ups hadn't gone unnoticed during these first few weeks, Blaine knew that. He'd let a lot slip because of his comfort with Kurt and the fact that he wasn't used to having to cover for so much. Normally, he could get away with having his watch out, or knowing his way around somewhere, or even knowing things about another student because it was high school. Everyone talked about everyone else's business and personal lives. That didn't happen with Kurt. Blaine was Kurt's only real friend at the moment. The only people who said anything about him were his bullies and they just called him names and teased him about his imaginary friend and sexuality. Nobody else had any information on Kurt's personal life, except maybe Finn. He couldn't get away with stuff like he normally did.

This mission required a lot more caution than any of his others. Blaine also knew Kurt's trust wasn't anywhere near what he wanted it to be. Kurt didn't trust him. It was that simple, really. He knew he was hiding things and Kurt remembered too much. Blaine's stomach had been in knots for over a week because of it. It was almost as if Kurt was supposed to figure everything out, but that went against everything Blaine had been taught.

Don't be discovered. If you're discovered or uncovered in any way you will be removed.

He couldn't fail Kurt like that. Not this soon in his mission and when Kurt needed him so much. Kurt had already benefited from him being here, but Blaine had to find a way to be more open and honest without telling him the truth. Otherwise, this was never going to work.

Burt finally called them in for dinner. Blaine followed behind Kurt slowly, stomach knotted with dread. They knew something. There was nothing else to it. Kurt had reached his breaking point with his suspicions and was going to ask to be told more about why Blaine was lying or any number of things. But at least he didn't know the whole truth. There was no way he could have figured that out. Blaine would be back in the Between already if Kurt had figured out the truth.

"So how's school been so far, boys?" Burt asked after they'd piled food onto their plates. His voice was strained and not at all its usual gruff, relaxed tone. It made Blaine nervous. Had Kurt told his father about his suspicions? Would Burt believe whatever he'd said?

"It's been okay," Kurt said with a shrug. His eyes were locked on Blaine, who looked down and started eating slowly. This was way too uncomfortable. "Mr. Schuester is letting us do Britney."

"Britney?" Burt rumbled in confusion. "The cheerleader in Glee?"

"No, Dad," Kurt sighed in exasperation. "Britney Spears. Iconic pop diva?"

"Oh, right," Burt agreed, nodding like he understood. His voice said he didn't, but he still went along with it. "Didn't she shave her head and go crazy?"

"It grew back," Kurt informed them.

"Her hair or her sanity?" Burt wondered as Blaine continued eating. If he stayed silent, maybe Kurt would hold off on whatever those looks where about until Burt wasn't here. It was going to be hard enough to explain any sort of cover up for his lies without Burt there to make him nervous.

"Both, Dad, honestly." Kurt rolled his eyes, glanced at Blaine for a moment, and then started eating.

Of course Burt turned to Blaine immediately and directed his earlier question at him. It all felt very planned out to Blaine. His skin was prickling and his heart was starting to pound painfully.

"What about you? You liking McKinley as much as Dalton?"

There was something in the way Burt said Dalton that unnerved Blaine. It was like Burt knew he'd never gone to Dalton, at least not recently. His first long mission had been at the prep school in the early 1970s, but he hadn't been there since. Blaine remembered enough about the place to be able to reasonably get away with saying he'd gone there even if he hadn't been there since.

"It's... well, it's different," Blaine offered with a small smile. "I don't have to wear a uniform anymore, which is nice. I miss the guys though. The Warblers are a great Glee Club."

Burt frowned at him, looking a little surprised by his answer's depth. The fact that he'd apparently expected to catch Blaine in his lie didn't go over Blaine's head. Kurt and Burt both knew he was lying about things. The only question was what they were going to do about that.

"I've never heard of the Warblers," Kurt said flippantly, eyeing Blaine oddly. "We've never competed against them."

"They don't compete much anymore. Not past Sectionals usually," Blaine explained. It was true from his time there. They'd done an invitational and then Sectionals that year, but that had been a first in almost two decades. The Warblers, and Dalton students as a whole, tended to keep to themselves.

Kurt hummed softly, chin tilted up as he eyed Blaine contemptuously. Burt was starting to look at him funny again, too. Feeling jittery, Blaine scooped up another spoonful of the chicken bake dish and chewed slowly. But the conversation didn't continue after that. Kurt kept watching him, eyes narrowed and suspicious, while Burt anxiously looked back and forth between them.

Finally, when Blaine had almost finished his meal, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Gee whiz, Kurt, did Jack draw an offensive picture on my face while I was sleeping last night or– "

"Gee whiz?" Kurt echoed in disbelief. He laughed derisively and said flatly, "You really are a blast from the past, aren't you?"

The snark was like a slushy in the face. Blaine froze, stomach plummeting as Burt glared over at his son.

"Kurt, this is all insane. He's– it's probably all just a coincidence and– "

But Kurt was on his feet, looking more fierce and determined than Blaine had ever seen him.

"It was you."

Kurt knew. Any doubts Blaine had about that were erased when he saw the look in Kurt's eyes. He'd never seen Kurt so sure of anything in his life. His eyes were darker, narrowed slightly, and focused. Burt was looking anxious as Kurt stood up.

"I know you've been lying to me and I know you're the same Blaine that was with me when I was a kid– "

Sick with panic, Blaine shook his head and tried to stay calm.

"Kurt, what are you talking about?" he stammered in apparent alarm. "I– "

"I remember you and that watch and everything," Kurt said loudly, voice trembling as he scrambled over to the counter and pulled open one of the drawers. From inside he pulled out a thick stack of paper and carried it back over. "Please, don't keep lying about this, because I am not crazy. I know you're... that you're dead, Blaine."

Stunned, Blaine sat there as Kurt started setting pieces of paper down in front of him. His vision was starting to swim as Burt tried to get Kurt to stop. His throat was raw and tight, his stomach so knotted he wasn't sure if it could even be used anymore. Kurt remembered it all. He'd somehow figured all of his past out and–

His old school photos were set down on the table. Middle school ones, both high school ones, his name in yearbooks when he'd been on missions since then, information on Dalton closing not long after he'd been there. He hadn't known that. He should have looked and redone his background story, but it had never been a huge thing for any of his other missions.

Kurt kept going, his voice growing stronger until it drowned out Burt's insistent protests and until Blaine couldn't breathe. Nothing was working. His hands were shaking, his eyes tearing up, everything was spinning because how? It had only been two weeks. He'd already failed his final mission. He'd be done before morning and never face any of his past or help Kurt.

Then everything stopped as the last page was dropped down in front of him with a triumphant slap of Kurt's hand. It was a news article Blaine had never seen before, but the words at the top were enough to make him choke.

McKinley High Student Found Dead in Parking Lot: Football Game Postponed

"P- put it away," Blaine rasped as flashes started going off in his head.

Rough hands yanked at his shirt– a shove into the empty park space behind a big truck– tripping into a pothole as a bat whistled through the air again–

"No," Kurt refused, shaking his head and pushing the paper closer. "Is this really you, Blaine– "

"I said put it away," Blaine snarled, squeezing his eyes shut to try to shake the memories off. He couldn't handle it. Not now or ever. It was better that he would be sent back. He couldn't help Kurt with this or anything.

"Why? If this isn't you then what does it matter?"

"Kurt, just stop," Burt ordered sharply but Kurt wasn't in a mood to listen.

Blaine tried to slid his chair back, but Kurt caught the back and held it.

"This is you, isn't it? Are you still really going to deny it, Blaine? I know, okay?"

"It's– "

"What? This isn't you? Then who is it? Who are all of these other Blaines? If this doesn't involve you then why don't you want to see it?"

With a jerk, Blaine shoved his chair back and stood up. It toppled over with a echoing clatter. "I'd like to see how you'd react to having your own murder shoved under your damn nose!"

He was breathing heavily as the other two fell silent. Nobody moved for several minutes. Blaine was shaking and trying to shove down the memories going off like flashbulbs in his mind, but it was like trying to choke down vomit while his fingers were down his throat.

Laughter– a homophobic slur–a fist yanking him up from the pave by his hair until he hollered in pain–

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was quiet, guilty. "Are– I'm– "

"It... it's okay, Blaine," Burt said gently, but then his hand dropped down onto Blaine's shoulder.

It was a huge mistake. With a jolt, Blaine yanked his whole body backwards, half tumbling towards the living room. He stumbled blindly for the front door, trembling and breathing unevenly as he tried to swallow his panic. Before he knew it he was out the door and two blocks over, running hard and barely aware of where he was going or why.

How had Kurt figured it out so soon? Why had they even bothered to send him on this mission if Kurt remembered so much? He couldn't believe Kurt would shove that article right under his nose either. Not when he knew what it meant.

Blaine dropped down on the curb, winded and still crying. He wasn't even sure what street he was on, but it didn't matter. Before long someone from the Between would be issuing a return for him. He'd been shocked right back out of Time and probably never return. Everything was over before he'd even started and Kurt...

Kurt would never get help with his bullies or have a better life. He'd never know what had happened to Blaine after tonight or understand anything else about it. Blaine would never face his past or save Kurt from the same fate. It was over.