An entire month passed before Blaine could bring himself to accept that he'd kissed Kurt. In the weeks following it, Kurt didn't mention it either. It became a little unspoken barrier that kept a slight, and new, physical distance between them. Holding hands became awkward and too sweaty; hugs started to become brief and timid. Blaine didn't like the awkwardness that had popped up between them, but he didn't know what else to do about it besides follow Kurt's lead and ignore it.

As the first snow of the season blanketed Lima at the beginning of December, Blaine noticed a lot of changes happening all around him. Burt was back to work and had lost a bit of weight; Carole had received a promotion at work just before Thanksgiving. She worked longer hours now, but had an extra day off. Kurt was spending more time with the girls in Glee, joining them at little slumber parties while Blaine found himself being tug along to hang out with the Glee boys. Sam was easily becoming one of the best friends he'd ever had besides Kurt, and most days, it was easy to forget why he was there and that this existence wasn't his own life he'd dreamed himself back into. Falling into Kurt's world was just as simple as falling into the other boy's heart.

"Hey, Blaine, do you have any–"

Blaine grabbed the tube of chap stick from his locker before Sam could finish his sentence. It had taken him a few weeks to start carrying a few on his person, but after Sam had asked to borrow one for the twenty-seventh time, it became a necessity in their friendship. Now the entire bottom of his locker door was devoted to a little rack where he kept a dozen tubes of chap stick for when Sam inevitably forgot his at home. The Dr. Pepper one from the variety pack he'd bought quickly became his favorite.

"Thanks, man," Sam said cheerfully, accepting the tube from Blaine and flopping back against the row of lockers as Blaine dug around for the right notebook. "Have you seen Mercedes? We're supposed to, uh– we've gotta work on a project after school–"

"Is that project each other's lips?" Blaine teased, grinning as Sam knocked Blaine's open locker door against Blaine's shoulder. "Ouch! There's no need to injure me just because you've got a crush on–"

"Oh, look who's talking, Mister Heart Eyes," Sam countered, circling around so that Blaine could see him. Sam roughly pinched his cheeks and made kissy faces at him. Blaine flushed. "I'm surprised Santana hasn't started taking bets on when one of you will just fling yourself into the other's lap."

Blaine stared into his locker and tried to stop the blush still rising on his cheeks. "We aren't– I'm not– I don't even know who–"

Sam shoved his shoulder and stuck his pointer finger so close to Blaine's face that Blaine went cross-eyed to keep it in sight. "Don't even, dude," Sam warned. "We all know you and Kurt are, like, madly in love with each other and probably even more madly in love with being in denial about it."

"We– Kurt doesn't– I am not," Blaine denied hotly. He glared at Sam who sniggered and started liberally applying chapstick to his puffy lips. "At least I don't look like I've always come from a make out session with a vacuum cleaner."

Sam capped his chapstick tube and gave Blaine a withering look. "For a dapper little gentlemen, you're a real asshole."

"Am not," Blaine nearly whined, pouting at Sam.

"Are, too!"

"Not!"

"Are, too!"

"Am–"

"Do I even want to know what this one is about?"

Blaine spun around and found Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel behind them, arms full of books and ready to start the week. Mercedes was the one who had spoken, which was unusual with Kurt present. As Blaine let his eyes drift to Kurt's face, however, he figured out why. Kurt's eyes were puffy, his nose as red as a cherry, with shiny, drying trails of snot leaking from it and down onto his upper lip. With a loud snort, Kurt shuffled for a packet of tissues and started wiping his nose.

"Kurt, what's–"

"He's in denial about being sick," Rachel said in annoyance. She hugged her books tightly and pulled her sweater up over her mouth. Her next comment was more muffled. "He's going to get us all sick and I cannot lose my voice–"

"On the contrary," Kurt huffed, his voice thick and raspy. It was much deeper than Blaine was used to hearing. "You losing your voice would alleviate all of our migraines for the next week."

Rachel stamped her foot and her forehead wrinkled like she was frowning. Blaine took one look at her and started laughing. Sam and Mercedes joined him and Rachel huffed out what sounded more like a snarl.

"Just because I care about the vocal abilities of–"

"Rachel, don't," Blaine said, still grinning as his laughter subsided. "Really, we know, and don't worry. I'll personally make sure Kurt is out of here before lunch."

"What? But we have a math test–" Kurt began, but he was cut off by his own abrupt, echoing sneeze.

"Kurt, you're sick, and I bet you have a fever, too," Blaine argued, eyeing Kurt's flushed, clammy skin. Sure enough, when he pressed his palm against Kurt's forehead the other boy was burning up. "You do. Come on, nurse's office. You're going home."

"But first block hasn't even started–"

"Then we can just get in your car and skip the nurse," Blaine decided, sliding his arm through Kurt's and keeping a firm grip on Kurt's elbow. "You're only going to make this worse if you stay."

"Go on, Kurt," Mercedes urged. "Let your boy take care of you."

The wink she shot them wasn't lost on Blaine. His cheeks flared hot again and Sam grinned widely at him until Blaine looked away.

"Blaine isn't– achoo!" Kurt buried his nose into his wad of tissues and let Blaine support some of his trembling weight. "We're only friends, even if– ACHOO!"

Before Kurt could say whatever he'd been about to, Blaine said goodbye to the others and started leading Kurt back out to the parking lot. It had probably just been Kurt's fever that had been talking at the end of that. Or maybe... maybe Kurt had told the girls about their kiss during one of their slumber parties. He might have even shared his hopes and fantasies about a future they could never have except in their dreams. Blaine grimaced as he helped Kurt into his Navigator and hopped into the driver's seat.

It wasn't as though he hadn't enjoyed their kiss. Blaine's belly hadn't stopped leaping since that day, every moment when his eyes met Kurt's it gave a huge, almost painful tug, like it wanted to rip itself from him and be just as close to Kurt as it had been then. Blaine had had one kiss before that, though he wasn't sure if it actually counted. He'd only fleetingly kissed Lee on the cheek and it had been met with a lot of shock and hostility. It was a bitter memory, a moment that would always remind him of when the innocence had been wiped from his sight. Nothing had been the same after that.

Of course, everything was different after he and Kurt had kissed at the beginning of November. As much as they were both trying to pretend nothing had changed, it was undeniable. Every day spent together, every afternoon studying, and every soft smile or laugh from Kurt made Blaine want to lean back in and close that same distance again. He wanted to let himself enjoy these little sparks and thrills going off inside of him, but he had to put Kurt first in this. Just like he'd been doing for fifty years, he came last in his missions. He wasn't here for romance or himself.

But he was, wasn't he? The undisputable purpose of this last mission was for him to overcome. It was all so confusing to try to sift his way through. After five decades of training himself to be entirely selfless and focused elsewhere, he was suddenly trying to figure out if he was supposed to let that go or not.

Either way, it didn't mean he was here to have a romantic encounter with Kurt. Nothing could happen in that way between them.

Blaine drove out of the McKinley student parking lot and back to Kurt's house. Burt had the day off and would probably just be waking up when they arrived. He pulled Kurt's Navigator into the driveway and helped the shivering boy into the house and then onto the couch.

"Lay down," Blaine urged, grabbing a blanket from the rack in the corner. He returned to the couch where Kurt was curled up on his side, looking feverish and miserable. Carefully, he draped the blanket over Kurt and started tucking it in. When he was a little boy, his mother had done the same for him. She'd always set him up on the couch next to the radio, and later the television when they'd bought one, so that he could listen to the baseball game and his favorite stations. "Did you take anything this morning?"

Kurt shook his head and let his eyes drift closed. "Don't need it," he grumbled before another loud sneeze echoed around the room.

"Yeah, you do," Blaine argued. He left Kurt on the couch and hurried into the kitchen. During the weeks when Burt had first arrived back from the hospital, Blaine had learned which cabinet the various pain aids and fever reducers were kept in. He opened the one by the sink and shoved Burt's medications aside until he found the right one for Kurt.

When he returned to the living room, Kurt was attempting to sit up and failing miserably.

"Back down," Blaine ordered. He handed Kurt the pills and a glass of water. "Take these for now, okay? I'll go see if your dad's up yet."

"No, don't," Kurt pleaded hoarsely. "I'm already going to get you sick. I can't get him sick, too!"

"No, you won't," Blaine said with a laugh. "I'm dead, remember? I might look and act like I'm alive, I might even need to eat, but getting sick is one thing I can't do. Just like how I can't grow or build up muscle."

"You can't–"

Blaine shook his head as Kurt took the pills and drank a few sips of water. It felt like a lie to Blaine now, saying he couldn't grow anymore. In the last month, since he'd first noticed that his pajamas had felt more snug the night they'd kissed, the rest of his clothes had started to grow tighter as well. His arms and chest were growing stronger and changing, despite everything he'd been told and all the evidence the last fifty years presented to him. Blaine didn't understand it, but he went along with it. Denying it or ignoring the changes his body was showing would be too naive and oblivious, even for him.

"Nope, it's all part of it," Blaine assured him, taking the glass from Kurt and nudging him to lay down again. "Come on, time for some rest. You really need it."

"I'm not–"

"You are," Blaine countered, pressing at Kurt's chest until he collapsed down onto the couch and let Blaine tuck him in again. "I am a champion when it comes to the 'are not, are too' game, so don't take me on. Especially not when you're sick."

"I am not–"

Blaine shot Kurt a stern look, and the other boy snapped his mouth shut as he relaxed back into the cushions. Gently, Blaine stroked Kurt's clammy forehead and murmured softly to him, eventually dissolving into an old lullaby his mother had sung him to sleep with. Kurt drifted off rather quickly, sinking into the couch and into dreams Blaine hoped were happier and kinder than what he couldn't stop dwelling on.

"Blaine?"

He glanced up and found Burt, still in his pajamas, watching from the entry to the kitchen.

"Shh, he just fell asleep," Blaine mumbled, tucking the blankets under Kurt's chin and standing up. Burt gave him a funny look. "Kurt's sick. He's got a fever and a head cold. I already gave him some medicine for it."

Burt nodded and looked over the back of the couch, feeling Kurt's forehead and cheek before nodding towards the kitchen.

"He didn't look too great last night, either," Burt offered as he pulled a box of cereal out of the pantry. "I'm guessing he was too stubborn to listen to me suggesting he stay home for the day?"

Blaine nodded as he plopped down at the counter and watched Burt fix his breakfast. "You know Kurt," Blaine said with a laugh. "More stubborn than the two of us combined."

Burt frowned and gave him a funny look. "I dunno about that, kid. You're probably worse than him. At least with some things."

Flabbergasted, Blaine began to protest, but Burt cut him off before he even got the first word out. "Oh, no, don't try to deny it. Kid, look," Burt turned to him abruptly, all fatherly overtones and gentle humor gone. "You've been giving Kurt those big moony eyes for two months now. I get that you're only here for a short time, all right? I get that. So does Kurt. Just don't waste that time pining instead of knowing, okay?"

"I– that's– I'm–" Blaine spluttered along until he ran out of breath.

"I'm just saying, okay? But don't tell Kurt I said anything or he'll skin me alive, sick or not," Burt finished. He snatched his bowl of cereal up and disappeared into the living room where Blaine could hear Kurt's snuffling, whistling snores.

The idea of pursuing these feelings had certainly crossed Blaine's mind in recent weeks. It would be a hundred times easier than beating them into silence every moment he was in Kurt's presence. But he'd never expected Burt to agree with those rebellious thoughts, or to support them becoming involved.

It was all only too easy to picture. Romantic, simple dates at Breadstix and a few other spots around town; going to movies together and sitting in the back so nobody would notice they weren't paying attention to the screen. There would be evenings curled up together on the couch, and afternoons spent beside the fire when the real snow began in a few short weeks. Together they could do and be so much and just enough for each other, just right. At least until he left and Kurt had an entire lifetime to feel that shattered piece of his soul ache as a reminder of what they'd shared briefly and what was lost.

No, he wouldn't do that to Kurt, even if Burt supported such a thing. Breaking Kurt's heart that deeply was much worse than how much he was already breaking his own.

There was something drastically off between Kurt and Blaine.

Carole had steadily been noticing the difference since early November. First, it had been the less frequent hugs and the timidness in their few embraces. Then, the hands that dangled at their sides instead of swinging together between their hips. But the biggest change Carole saw was the looks on both of their faces. Kurt's had opened up, blossomed like a flower in the morning light. He was radiant and more bubbly than she had ever seen him before, but there was also a definite sadness that lingered in his eyes. It was Blaine that concerned Carole, though. He was unbearably nervous around all of them, but particularly Kurt. His gaze hadn't changed from the lovesick look he'd been sporting since October, but there was a painful glimpse when he looked away from Kurt that Carole couldn't stand.

Something had happened between them, and while Kurt was thrilled, Blaine seemed guilty and morose.

It didn't take a lot for Carole to make a few guesses for why. Someone had kissed someone else, and clearly it hadn't gone how Carole had hoped it would.

Kurt's cold got worse as the week progressed, and Carole spent her days off taking care of him and forcing him to stay in bed. It wasn't an easy job, but Burt, Blaine, and a few of the girls Kurt was friends with now, took turns helping her out in the afternoons. Despite their new skittishness, Blaine was there every day, helping Kurt eat, taking his temperature, and rubbing Vapor Rub on his chest while they watched Kurt's favorite childhood movies. More than once, Carole made her way downstairs to find them curled up on Kurt's bed in a pile of blankets, half asleep and adorable. It broke her heart to think they were so close to something more, but too guarded and aware to let it happen for them.

On Friday, Carole got home from work and found the two in the living room while Burt and Finn stumbled around the kitchen in an attempt to make chili for dinner. Carole left them to their clattering, shouting, and banging, and instead settled down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Blaine was asleep on his back, face turned towards the television with Kurt's still red nose buried against his neck. It had to be quite difficult to breathe with all of Kurt's dead weight pressed down on his chest, but Blaine seemed quite content until something clattered to the floor in the kitchen and Finn gave a holler of pain.

"Ow, Burt! That's my knee!"

Blaine shrugged into a raised position, blinking blearily around as Carole steadied Kurt in his comatose state and checked his fever. He was still a little warm, but not burning like he had been. The little warmth she did feel might just be from the amount of body heat the two boys were collecting under the pile of blankets.

"How's he been this afternoon?" Carole asked Blaine, helping him gently shift out from under Kurt, who started snoring softly.

"Tired," Blaine yawned, sliding off the couch and standing up. "I forced some cough syrup in him when I got out of school and he's been out of it ever since. Fell asleep on me again."

Carole smiled as Kurt curled himself up where Blaine had just been resting. "He's quite fond of snuggling up with you. It's positively cute."

"It's– we're–"

She watched Blaine struggle for words for a few more seconds, before he shrugged and gave up. As Burt and Finn continued to bicker and slam things in the kitchen, Carole nodded towards Kurt's open bedroom door.

"Let's go change out his bedding, okay?" she decided. "I'm sure he'll enjoy a fresh pair of sheets tonight since those are all sticky and sweaty."

Blaine nodded, not even remotely aware of Carole's real intentions behind the offer as they clomped downstairs and flicked the lights on. If she could get Blaine talking, then maybe she could help these two get out of this awkwardness. Perhaps she'd even be able to steer him in the right direction. If there was one thing Carole didn't doubt, it was that Blaine was the one holding the two of them back. Blaine was too sweet and caring to risk hurting Kurt. And while Kurt was sweet as well, he was a lot younger than Blaine in so many ways. Blaine didn't seem to realize that Kurt would be hurt regardless of what their relationship became or didn't.

As Blaine moved towards Kurt's tangled mess of a bed, Carole looked around in surprise. Kurt's room, which was normally incredibly neat (and bizarre for Carole to behold after the disaster Finn attempted to live in), was full of clutter. There were dirty bowls and cups scattered all around the bed; piles of crusted over tissues decorated the bed, floor, and the desk next to the full waste basket.

"Looks like a soggy tissue box tornado hit, doesn't it?" Blaine commented with a weak smile.

Carole laughed and agreed as they started picking the tissue up and stuffing it in the overflowing basket.

"So how have you been?" Carole asked as they pulled the bag out to tie it off. "I imagine you'll be sick next."

"Oh, no, I can't get sick," Blaine remarked with a casual shrug. "All part of the being dead package."

"Really?" Carole said in surprise. "That's so... strange."

"A lot of the things my body doesn't do anymore are strange. Well, it's strange for the first few years. I'm used to it now. No growing, no muscles getting larger, no shaving since it hadn't started growing before I died. The list goes on and on."

Carole nodded and filed the information away with everything else she was learning about Blaine and all that existed after here.

"I'll bet it is," Carole said conversationally. "It can't be easy to come back and see so many people still living and... falling in love."

She almost didn't add the last part in, almost changed her mind about addressing the subject right now. But giving these two a chance at what was growing stronger between them couldn't wait. If she waited, it would only waste more time.

Blaine tensed immediately as he finished knotting the trash bag. He stared at the loop on the end of the bag for a moment before tugging it tight and setting it next to the desk. His hands fidgeted and twisted anxiously before sliding into his sweater pockets.

"Yeah, it's, um," Blaine cleared his throat and nodded towards the bed. "We should strip it down before he finds his way down here."

"Right, right," Carole agreed reluctantly and headed over to the bed with Blaine. They flung the sheets and comforter off, and started stripping the pillows. "Blaine, I–"

"Have you ever been in love?" Blaine blurted out as they tugged the fitted sheet from the mattress.

Carole's fingers slipped and the elastic band snapped back against the mattress. It was the exact topic she'd wanted to bring up and discuss, but the fact that Blaine had brought it up on his own surprised her. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe, despite Kurt's beaming smiles, he was the one keeping the two of them at arm's length.

"I– yes, of–"

"God, of course you have," Blaine said abruptly, dropping the fitted sheet and rubbing his face. "How could you not have been? You've been married and now you've got Burt and– I'm sorry, I'm just–"

"Falling completely in love with Kurt?" Carole offered gently as she grabbed the sheet again and pulled it free. She focused on balling it up in the silence that followed, but when she looked up Blaine's shoulders had sagged down and his head was drooping.

"God, am I really that obvious? Even Sam has noticed," Blaine said miserably. He plopped down on the bare mattress and dropped his face into his hands.

"You are," Carole remarked kindly, squatting down in front of him. She brushed a stray lock back into his neatly styled curls and sighed. "It's also entirely normal and entirely okay to be terrified of how you're feeling, Blaine. It's what you do with that fear and all of these wonderful feelings that really counts."

"But I can't–"

"Why?" Carole asked simply.

"B- because I won't hurt Kurt like that," Blaine stammered, his voice tight and hoarse. "I can't do that to him."

"Sweetheart, I hate being the bearer of bad news, but you already are," Carole informed him. "Whether or not you two pursue a romantic relationship doesn't change the fact that you're both falling for each other. It doesn't change that Kurt's heart is already invested in you."

"But I– he knows I can't stay–"

"Hearts are funny things, Blaine," Carole explained patiently. She took his hand and clutched it tightly until he looked up. His eyes were scared and watery. For the first time since she'd met him, Blaine looked his years. There was so mature wisdom in his gaze or clarity in his eyes. Just fear. "He can't stop how he feels any better than you can. Isn't denying yourselves this chance, forcing each of you to spend the rest of forever wondering what could have been, worse than given it a chance while there is one?"

"I don't know," Blaine admitted miserably. "God, I don't know what I'm doing with anything anymore. None of this is like–"

"Like the other trips you've taken back here," Carole said quietly. She'd expected as much for the last few weeks, even before that when it came to the reason that Blaine was here. "I think, and there's no way for me to really know obviously, but I think part of this last one is for you to learn to live again, to have this final chance before it's all gone completely, Blaine. They've given you an enormous chance to overcome all of these terrible things. Why can't the same be true for the better parts of life?"

Blaine was silent after that, staring at their linked hands and the balled up sheets at his feet. He kicked them a few times, and ran a hand through the loose gel in his hair.

"I kissed him," he confessed, glancing back up at Carole. "Last month after I had those flashbacks. We were getting ready to go to sleep, just lying here," he gestured to the bed, "and I just– I kissed him."

"And?" Carole prompted, not bothering to hide the smile creeping onto her face.

"A- and?" Blaine stammered in surprised. When Carole gave him a pointed, hopeful look, Blaine flushed and stared at his lap. "It was... wonderful. I've never– I want to always feel like that."

"Then why aren't you letting yourself?"

"Because it can't last," Blaine snapped, starting to look annoyed. "In June, I'm gone. There's–"

"Do you think if I'd known what would have happened to Finn's father beforehand that I would have left him? Or if Burt had known Elizabeth was going to get sick that he'd have never married her?" Carole asked before he could get going again. "Neither of those lasted either, Blaine. Nothing in this world can forever, most things don't even last for a life time."

"But this is different," Blaine insisted weakly. "I might– we could be– he's only got one soulmate. His file said so."

Carole stared at him, not entirely sure she'd heard that right. "His what? Do those actually– soulmates exist?"

Blaine nodded. "Before this mission, before all missions," Blaine amended, "we're given files on all the important people involved, and ones we'll be in contact with a lot. There's a lot of information in them. Basic stuff like gender, sexuality, eye color, but there's other things, too. Soulmates are one of them. The last time I was here for Kurt, when he was a kid, he didn't have any soulmates listed," Blaine explained. "He was still a kid, so I didn't think anything of it, but it stopped before this last one. It stopped and I couldn't access it beyond seeing that there was only one listed."

Carole sat stunned for several minutes, taking in everything Blaine had just told her, and processing the implications of Blaine's train of thought. "And you think you're his?"

"I'm terrified that I am," Blaine whispered. "I can't access mine, either. Anyone else's I can. Yours, Finn's, Burt's, my brother's. But not mine and not Kurt's. I– if I'm it for him and I'm not here, what's going to happen to him? How can I do something like that to him?"

For several minutes, Carole let him collect himself as she thought over everything she'd heard.

Soulmates existed and Kurt only had one.

That could mean any number of things, but certainly there had to be a reason for Blaine not being allowed to know. After another minute, Carole took a deep breath and took Blaine by the chin.

"Blaine," she began gently, "I don't know what's going to happen or if what you suspect is true or not. None of us do. But I do know that allowing love is one the best things you will ever experience. Nothing compares to having that joy and connection full and strong in your heart. And if your places were reversed, think about what you would want between you two for the next six months. Knowing everything you know, I think you'd still want the same thing Kurt does right now, sweetheart. And if it's all true and Kurt is left without his soulmate, then he'll have all of us to help him through it. He'll always remember what you've meant to him regardless of what happens with you two from now until you leave, but losing a soulmate doesn't mean never finding love again. No love is the same as another, and it might not be a soulmate who he finds it with, but I know Kurt will be able to find love again once you're gone."

Blaine gave her a weak, tearful smile that looked more like a grimace. Instead of waiting for him to speak, Carole pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his forehead. For once he seemed as young as he looked. Just any other seventeen-year-old tumbling into the joy and chaos of love for the first time in his life.

"Don't put the little bit of life you have left on hold, Blaine," Carole encouraged as she pulled back. "There's no retrieving it once it's gone. Always, always make the most of the time you have left. Live like you're still alive."

She stood up then, collecting the dirty bedding and trash bag on her way upstairs. It was a long time before Blaine reappeared, but when he did he immediately went to wake Kurt up for dinner, smiling shyly and, while he still looked scared, there was a brightness to his eyes that Carole hadn't seen in recent weeks.

It might take a few more weeks, but Blaine was learning how to live again. That wasn't something to relearn over night.

"You two were down there for a while," Burt remarked as the boys all gathered in the kitchen to eat. She opened the washing machine and started it up to cover their voices.

"Blaine kissed Kurt last month," she said without preamble.

"And they're still not together?" Burt said in disbelief. He glanced back through the little laundry room door and into the kitchen. "He's more stubborn than I thought."

"We had a good talk," Carole explained. "I think– I hope I got through to him. We'll find out soon enough."

"He better get a move on," Burt grumbled, tossing the sheets into the washing machine. "If I'm going to have to watch those two shoot each other moony eyes, I at least want them to be at the same time."

Carole smiled and laughed as she closed the lid. She still had a few doubts, but it was obvious how much Blaine and Kurt both wanted this, how desperately the world was working to bring them together, even if it was decades after Blaine's life. There was definitely an unfathomable, true reason for all of this. Carole only hoped that someday she'd know what it was.