"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Kurt said for the hundredth time. They had just pulled off the exit to the retirement home. After forcing Kurt to call for him, Blaine had been too anxious to think about going right then. Two weeks. It had taken another two weeks of precious time for Kurt to get him to set a day for their trip to Lakeview. But by the time they'd reached the highway this morning, he wished they could turn around.

"It's too soon. I need more time to-to-to–"

"Honey, you've had fifty years. Look, if we get there and just sit outside, then that's fine."

"No, it isn't. I can't come this close and not go in," Blaine retorted. He rubbed his hands together and stared at the red light slowing them down. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

"Really? How many blowjobs is it going to take to make you understand my powers of persuasion?" Kurt smiled teasingly at him as the light changed and they rolled forward again. "Just take a deep breath. I'll go with you as far you want. If I have to, I'll sit there and hold your hand while you talk to him."

Blaine grunted as they turned into the parking lot at the correct address. It was a nice looking place, one long building with several branching halls that he could see from outside. The bricks were a pale red, the shutters a handsome green, and several sweaty men were out with their land-equipment, trimming and mowing. There was no lake in sight like the name suggested, but he could just see the edge of a little duck pond tucked behind the building.

"It's nice," Kurt said as he shut the engine off. "Like, I wouldn't want to live here, but they look like they're enjoying themselves." He pointed towards an old couple holding hands while two attendants wheeled them along a path towards the pond. "That's adorable. I'm going to need a house with a pond so Dad and Carole can do that when they're too wrinkled to drive."

Blaine nodded stiffly as Kurt unbuckled their seatbelts and opened his door. He couldn't do this. It was better not to know, to not see that face again when there was a chance of it hurting him more.

Someone knocked on his window. Blaine jumped and his knee hit the glove box.

"Come out and stretch, at least," Kurt said through the window. "We've been driving for hours."

Slowly, Blaine eased out of the car. Kurt took him by the hands and hoisted him to his feet. It hurt his knees to stand after the drive, but it was nicer out here. Nicer than the inside of a car or in a stuffy hospital room pretending it was a bedroom.

Kurt wrapped his arms around him and swayed them from side to side. He felt like a doll with knees that wouldn't bend as they tottered back and forth. There shouldn't be anything scary about visiting someone he'd known in an old folks home. All he had to do was read the note cards he'd written out over and over for the past two weeks. They had everything he wanted to say on them.

"It's going to be fine," Kurt said. He kissed his cheek and shut the door. "You ready?"

"No," Blaine said truthfully. He clutched the note cards in his pocket. "But I think I'm as close as I'll ever get."

Kurt squeezed his hand and led the way into the building. It was nice inside, too. Much nicer than Blaine had expected from a place for the elderly. A man was at the front desk, flipping through a magazine with an old man, who Blaine guessed was a patient. Resident? He wasn't sure what to call any of them.

"Hi, I'm Kurt. I called early about visiting hours for Lee Atkins."

The man at the desk looked up from the shared magazine and smiled. "Oh, hello! I didn't expect you so soon. You'll need to check-in and get visitor passes. Do you both have identification?"

Kurt nodded and then looked uncertainly at Blaine.

"It's fine," Blaine said softly. He dug out his wallet and pulled out his student identification card. It was lucky they made these now, otherwise he'd have nothing to offer up. Kurt had his license, but Blaine had never gotten one. There was no point in spending time on a road test when he left in a month.

They both handed their cards off, got checked in, and clipped visitor passes to their shirts. Blaine was bouncing on his feet by the time the two minute process was over. Kurt asked for directions and a room number. He was glad Kurt was so keen on staying by his side for this. Without him, Blaine never would have made it past the front desk.

"Thanks so much!"

Kurt clutched his hand as they headed through an electrically locked door and down a long hallway. Every door was open. Inside each was at least one bed, usually with the room's inhabitant in it or seated in a chair just beside it. Despite the real beds, and the furnishings, it reminded Blaine too much of a hospital. There were wires and monitors and everything smelled sterile.

"Shh, it's okay." Kurt's arm looped through his and rubbed over his forearm. "We can take a few laps around if you want. His room's just over there."

Blaine looked to where Kurt was nodding. The last door on the left, 316. Twenty feet away from where he was standing was the boy who had helped end his life. Or man now, and an old one at that. That much had changed, hadn't it? He'd step inside and come face to face with a strange, wrinkle man with that boy's name. Not the Lee he grew up with, just an old shell of that time.

"Blaine?"

"I–if I need you–"

"Right out here. Just a call away," Kurt said. He squeezed Blaine's hand, kissed his cheek, and then let go.

After a deep breath, Blaine turned away from Kurt. One step, two steps; in seconds he was outside the open door. Kurt's voice carried well-wishes down the hall but Blaine barely heard it over his own heart. This was it. After fifty years of wishing and assuming it would never be a possibility, it was wide open and waiting for him to make that last step.

Blaine peered through the open door into another room just like the others. There was a larger window here on the corner, a chair, a bookshelf with several fat, worn paperbacks, and a hospital bed different than the others. He swallowed as he eyed the man in the bed. Lee looked nothing like the boy he remembered. His head was bald and liver spotted, he was wrinkled and feeble like a balloon slowly deflating. How could his friend be in there? Lee was a lanky, strong sixteen year old, not older than his grandfather.

"Um, hello?" Blaine rapped his knuckles on the door, but stayed in the doorway. His other hand shuffled the note cards in his pocket.

"Hello? Who is that? Marty?"

"Um, no, my name's–I'm here from the local high school," Blaine invented. He couldn't say the truth. Lee's eyes were milky white and swollen around the eyelids. He was more than half-blind, if not fully. "We're visiting patients this week for a class."

"Oh, I thought you were my son. Come in, come in." Lee shifted on the bed and suddenly the head began raising itself up into a sitting position. Blaine shivered and stayed in the doorway. Lee shouldn't need that if he didn't. This was all wrong. "I used to go to school around here. Over in Lima."

"I kn– I go to McKinley High. It's in Lima, too."

Lee nodded. "My daughters went there. They're a few years younger than Marty. First and third graduating class!"

"That's–right."

"Could you speak up a little? You sound far away and my eyes aren't what they were, I'm afraid."

Blaine shuffled his feet in the doorway and suddenly felt guilty. This was his friend. Sort of. A boy he'd had a eleven year friendship with and he could barely look at him. Only it wasn't because of what had happened to him, and it caught him by surprise to realize it. No, it was seeing Lee at the end of his life and knowing everything had changed permanently. Forgiving wouldn't take him back to that day, it wouldn't change anything that had happened since he'd died. Taking those last steps in meant never going back, but for the first time, Blaine wasn't sure what going back was supposed to be anymore.

"You can come in, son," Lee said gruffly. "I know it's not like the room you've got at your home, but there's nothing too scary in here. Just an old man with a lot of things going bad."

"Right, sure." Blaine took a deep breath and took a few steps forward.

Lee laughed. "Well, that's a start."

"Sorry, I'm just, um, nervous." Blaine looked at Lee again, a real long look. The nose was the only thing still familiar anymore. He tried to focus on that. It was still crooked from that baseball break when they were eleven, but the end was drooping more, there was a mole on the bridge, and it was wrong. This wasn't the Lee he'd known, hadn't been for as long as he'd wondered about everything. "Can I, uh, sit?"

"That's what the chair's for," Lee said. "Have a seat. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't have any."

Blaine stumbled forward and nearly tripped himself. Lee chuckled straight into a hacking cough as Blaine sat down in the chair at his bed side. This was weird. Too weird for his head to catch up to him. He should be that old right now, with wrinkles and drooping skin and sunken in eyes. They could have been old men together in this retirement home, spending their last days arguing over baseball statistics and who had the cutest grandkid. And Kurt would– but no. Kurt wouldn't have been here with him, and that didn't make any sense to him either.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," Blaine said quietly.

"Well, I'm Lee." He shifted on the bed and turned his face towards Blaine. "Your voice, it sounds familiar. Like... no. I'm being silly."

Blaine swallowed and bit his lip. Lee did remember something, even if it was only the good times. Overall, he hadn't seen a single hint of the dementia mentioned in that envelope. But that only made this harder. How was he ever going to manage to talk through this now?

"Silly about what?"

"Oh, old memories." Lee sighed heavily. "Old friends no longer here."

"Like Blaine."

"How do you– you know about Blaine?"

For a second, Blaine almost said the truth, but he couldn't. His tongue was swollen to his teeth and his lungs didn't want to force out the air stretching them. Lee sat up a little more and leaned closer to him, like he thought less distance would make his sight return.

"He's–his brother–"

"You're Cooper's boy? Grandson?"

"My name's Blaine," he offered. It wasn't a lie and just admitting that eased the soreness in his chest. Lee could assume what he wanted from there. Blaine didn't owe him anything more than that.

"They named you after him," Lee guessed. He cleared his throat and his jaw trembled. "He was a wonderful boy. I– I can't say I was always kind to him, especially at the end of his life. I was quite rotten, honestly. He was a good man. I wish... you're not here for a school project."

"No, I'm not," Blaine agreed. He looked at Lee then, looked at the frown lines deepening in his cheeks and around his eyes, at the way his meek arms seemed to shake. There was a memory there, much like his own still, maybe the only one left. He eased his hand off his note cards and onto his lap. They weren't going to do him any good today. "Can you, um, tell me about him? I've always wondered and they won't talk about him."

"I don't know that I'm the best person for the job," Lee said carefully. He turned his head away towards the sunlight streaming in through the window. "The only story I still have isn't a kind one."

Blaine looked down, let his eyes trace the pattern in the carpet until his vision swam. He had no idea what he was doing or what to say without revealing who he was. This was a dead end. Maybe Lee had always been a dead end, at least for him.

"He kissed me once," Lee said suddenly. "It was a long, long time ago. Back then, it wasn't normal for that sort of thing. Everyone in town knew about him, and they all stayed away. We met one night to talk. He was... Blaine was my best friend. For a long time. All through school and that night, he kissed me on the cheek, but I-I was cruel just like everyone else."

"We met under the willow, by the tree that used to hold the tire swing," Blaine said. He couldn't help himself. "I remember that. I never... it was just a crush. I'm sorry."

"You–what are–Blaine?"

"Do you remember that last day, before the football game?"

"How are you here? Did–"

Blaine stood up slowly, his body shaking. "Do you still think about standing there and watching? Because I'll never forget it and I've tried for so long," Blaine said. He wiped at his eyes and wrapped his arms around his chest. "I wanted you to stop it, then I just hoped it would stop before–I trusted you with everything, but it was stupid. The wrong time, the wrong person maybe."

Lee sat there, his body trembling, his cheeks moist as Blaine bit his lip and stared at the ceiling.

"I kept trying to forgive you, but you aren't the boy I need to forgive anymore. I did forgive Lee," Blaine said. "I forgave that stupid, scared boy for the world we grew up in. I can forgive you for growing old and living you life while mine was stolen before I had a chance to have one. I can do that, and I think, maybe I did that months ago."

"You're real?" Lee asked finally. His hand reached out, groping for Blaine. His voice was weak and his breathing shaky. "I am so sorry. I've–there hasn't been a day where I haven't hated myself for what happened. For what I did."

"I know," Blaine said. The words surprised him once they were in the air, but the truth of them seeped right into him. Coming here, seeing Lee, this wasn't a journey to see if he could forgive this, it was an epiphany saying he already had. That the voice in his head forgiving the worst had been the truth all along. "It just took this for me to realize it. The boy I knew would have punished himself all his life for that day."

"The boy I knew would have, too."

"I did," Blaine agreed. Carefully, he reached out and squeezed Lee's hand. "I think maybe I still am."

"I'm sorry for what we did, the way we treated you. God, you're still young. If I could take it back–"

"I wouldn't change a thing," Blaine cut in. He glanced at the doorway, at Kurt peering in at him. The smile that met his eyes made everything feel okay, like this wasn't the end of all he'd ever had, like two doors weren't shutting one after another even though they were. This was the first. "It was awful, has been for so long, but it also gave me a chance at something better. I found someone I never would have found back then."

"I don't understand," Lee said carefully. "This is all so–are you here to take me to Heaven?"

"No, can't say I've ever been there myself," Blaine said. He let Lee's hand drop. "I should go. Before–I forgive you, you know. And I think I can forgive myself now, too."

He met Kurt in the doorway for a tight hug. Lee was still shifting around on his bed, tears on his cheeks, and another hacking cough jerking him upright. But when Blaine looked back, a soft smile had taken its place.

"Oh? Do I have a visitor? Marty? Is that you?"

"Wrong room," Blaine said gently. They stepped a few paces away from the door and Blaine sunk into Kurt's chest. "Just hold me, please."

"Okay," Kurt whispered against his hair. "Okay. There's–"

"Later," Blaine mumbled. As Kurt wrapped him in a tight hug Blaine realized how much he was shaking. "I promise I'll tell you later, but I just... I need some time to think it over first."

"No, it's not that. Although, I do want to hear everything, but, um." Kurt bit his lip and leaned back. "Lee wasn't the only reason we came here."

Blaine frowned as he pulled his face away from Kurt's body. "Why else would we come to a nursing home?"

"Because your brother was a resident here."

"Cooper?"

"He–I knew he was a while ago, but it seemed crazy to even bother. And, then Lee and–"

"Is he still here? Which room?" Blaine demanded. His chest was thudding like a bass drum. Cooper, his brother who'd never gotten his life back together after he died. He couldn't change that, but he could take away some of that guilt if he saw him. "Where is he?"

"He's gone," Kurt said. His voice broke like Blaine's chest. "One of the nurse's said he left last week. It got too expensive for him, so he went somewhere else."

"Oh, that's–oh." Blaine looked away from Kurt, down the empty hallway. His brother had lived here, had been here only a few days ago. He suddenly felt very strange standing there in that empty hallway. "That's for the best probably," he said slowly. "I mean, seeing me would only scare him, right?"

Kurt nodded slightly and watched his face for a few moments. "Yeah, probably. I'm sure we can find his new–"

"No, let's get lunch at a cute little restaurant, get cheesecake for dessert, and then take the long way back to Lima," Blaine said. "We can stop to watch the sun go down."

Kurt's lips quirked mischievously. "Oh? Will one of us be going down on the other, too?"

Blaine laughed a little and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "There's only one way to find out."

Burt wasn't sure where Kurt and Blaine had disappeared to on Thursday afternoon. They left for school, apparently skipped Glee from what he could weasel out of Finn, and hadn't gotten home until almost midnight. For once, he couldn't bring himself to pry. Blaine was happier. He breathed easier and held himself stronger. Burt didn't know for sure where they'd gone, but he had a few good guesses.

It was nice to see Blaine relax for these last few weeks, and Burt tried not to think about how fast those weeks seemed to be going. There were five days until their junior prom, ten days left in June, twenty-seven until Blaine melted out of their lives forever. At least physically, and Burt thought that was what he would miss the most.

Across the little park, Finn squawked as Blaine and Kurt sneak attacked him with water guns from behind the bushes. It was a hot May afternoon, the warmest so far but thick with pollen and a touch of humidity. Beside him, Carole sneezed like she was trying to birth a baby through her nose.

"There's more medicine in the picnic basket," Burt reminded her. He turned away from the boys tackling each other by the slide and looked at Carole. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy and leaking, and her neck, despite her assurances, looked a little swollen. "Are you sure you don't want the shot the doctor offered? Your neck looks–"

"It is not, I'm fine. It's just a cold, Burt, honestly."

"Just because you've never had allergies before doesn't mean you don't now," Burt said. He opened the picnic basket as she blew her nose and dug out more pills. "Here, take two more."

"And call you in the morning?" Carole added sarcastically. Still, she popped both into her mouth and swallowed them dry. "Ugh, you're right, but you aren't. Got it?"

"We can just head home. The boys won't miss us," Burt said. He looked back at them romping around the playground and field and froze. The water balloons were out now that the guns were empty, and for a moment Burt wasn't sure his body understood how to breathe.

–Blaine leapt forward and caught Kurt around the waist. With a shout, they tumbled down into the wood chips, laughing and squealing as water splashed onto Kurt's head and ruined his perfectly coiffed hair–

"No, stop tickl-l-ling, AH!"

Carole laughed like a fog horn as the two boys rolled about, more water balloons exploding as Blaine's hands grabbed at Kurt's sides. It was just like that dream. How could he have forgotten it so easily? But as Burt looked over at Carole, he knew the answer. Elizabeth, that little boy, were another lifetime for him, maybe not in the same way that Blaine's past was, but they were both closed off now in ways he couldn't explain.

"Burt? You aren't getting allergies, too, are you?"

"No, it's just–"

As he watched, Blaine finally pinned Kurt down triumphantly. He wasn't sure where Finn had wandered off to, but as Kurt's hand captured Blaine's jaw, Burt had to look away. Just like that dream of him and Elizabeth so long ago. If this moment was real, then had she really been speaking to him, too?

"Burt?"

"It's– them, just now," Burt said as he waved his hand at Kurt and Blaine giggling against each other's lips. "I had a dream just like this."

"You dreamed about us watching your son make out with his boyfriend?" Carole finished her teasing with an echoing sneeze.

"Whatever, Sneezey. And no," Burt added with a frown as she wiped her nose again. "When I was waking up in the hospital, after my heart attack, I saw this. And... and Elizabeth."

"Oh," Carole said. She blew her nose and stuffed the used tissues into a bag she'd brought along. "Maybe it wasn't a dream then."

"That's ridiculous though," Burt said. "How could I dream something that hasn't happened yet?"

"Really? After everything that's happened since September, and you want to take issue with a prophetic dream?" Carole's giggle came out as like a dinosaur shriek. She coughed and then blew her nose some more. "I like to think it was her. As much as I love us and you and our boys, sometimes I do catch myself wishing she and Chris were still here."

"So do I," Burt said and that was all they needed to say. Some things they understood without hurt or confusion. Across the playground, Blaine rolled off of Kurt and the two sat up, facing away from them. "I'm going to miss him."

Finn flopped down right between them and dug his hand into the picnic basket. "Where's Kurt going? He's not going with Blaine, is he? 'Cause I only just got a brother and I don't want to be an only child again."

"You– Finn, what?"

Carole and Burt stared at their youngest as he sat back and ate half his sandwich in one bite. Finn didn't know. Nobody had told him or hinted at anything since they had all found out. There was no way Finn would have looked into anything on his own.

"Blaine's going back to, like, being dead or Heaven," Finn said. He shrugged and ate the rest of his sandwich.

"How could you possibly know that?" Burt asked in amazement.

"You guys aren't very good at being secretion–"

"Secretive, dear," Carole corrected automatically.

"Yeah, that. Kurt left all those papers lying around and you two are always whispering about it," Finn said, counting off on his fingers. "Oh, and the vent to my room at your house is connected to Kurt's. I hear some gross stuff sometimes, but it's hard to deny he's dead when he says it out loud."

"You– Jesus." Burt shook his head and looked over at Kurt and Blaine again. His chest throbbed like an open sore and Burt rubbed over his heart surgery scar absentmindedly. Side to side, arms around each other as they sat on the wooden edge of the swing set area. For one more moment they were young and perfect. Burt only wished it could stay that way, but there was no doubt they never could.