Kurt was suspicious.

The thought haunted Blaine for the rest of the week after Kurt asked to look at his pocket watch. Somehow he still remembered what had happened when he was a boy, or parts of it, at least. It didn't surprise Blaine as he got more used to Kurt's life and how the other kids at McKinley treated him. They didn't let him forget his "imaginary friend". They didn't let Kurt forget anything they didn't like about him.

For the majority of the week, Blaine tried to ease back on the time he spent with Kurt. He told Kurt he was busy unpacking and that Kurt should spend more time with his father, but inside he was reeling. If Kurt remembered him, it was only a matter of time before he pieced it together or called Blaine out on something. Kurt was smart and focused. He noticed little things that even Blaine missed sometimes. A lot of it was related to fashion and design and what someone was wearing, but there was no reason Kurt couldn't use those skills for figuring out that Blaine was the boy he'd played tea party with for months as a child.

Unnerved by the situation he'd found himself in, Blaine did his best to act normal. Just like any other teenager at McKinley. That was who he had to be. He watched his words more and didn't let random facts slip up like he'd probably been doing. The thing was, it was easy to let himself go around Kurt. It was almost frightening how fast he found himself relaxing and not realizing he'd said something he'd shouldn't have said because this him shouldn't know that yet. Kurt was smart enough to catch those moments even if he kept quiet about them. Blaine could see the shift in his posture or gaze now that he was trying to remember not to say certain things. It wasn't something he'd ever had to worry about before.

On Wednesday and Thursday, Blaine tried his best to weasel something out of Kurt without bluntly asking anything. He couldn't ask directly without giving himself away. Giving himself away was unacceptable. He'd be yanked back or Jack, the man pretending to be his older brother while on his own mission, would have to get him out of here fast. Living people weren't supposed to know the truth about any of them. Yet, not even two weeks after Blaine had returned, Kurt was already catching onto him knowing things he shouldn't. It was almost like he was supposed to be caught and tell Kurt everything. If Kurt didn't trust him then this was never going to work. He'd get too suspicious and stop talking to him, but he was already suspicious and his trust had to be slipping.

Thursday evening, Blaine stayed in under the guise of unpacking his last few boxes. Kurt, his father, Carole, and Finn had planned a night out at the movies and dinner which was a relief for him. It gave him a night to figure out what to do from this point forward. Nobody he'd known had ever had a repeated person in their missions. As far as he knew, it was unprecedented, and for good reason. It made things needlessly complicated. Kurt might have been young then, and Blaine's superiors in the Between probably suspected that he didn't remember Blaine, but he remembered something.

After eating a quiet meal by himself, Blaine settled down in the apartment's little living room, turned on a baseball game, and started his homework. Unfortunately it was only math tonight. He'd taken the same class too many times to even struggle with the assignment. Half an hour later he was done, and mindlessly watching the television until his phone buzzed on the coffee table he was set up at.

With a grimace, he picked it up. He hated that he had to have one of these in this time. His fingers were too clumsy for the little touch-screen buttons and it took forever to get the damn thing to not correct his words for him. Kurt and the other kids seemed to breeze through the texting, but Blaine hated it.

Kurt [7:43 P.M.]: I think Finn just took a bite out of the table and now he's using his napkin to hide it.

Blaine snorted and slowly, but surely, tried to type out a message.

Blaine [7:51 P.M.]: That sounds like a very Finn thing to do. Is he looking around like he's about to get arrested?

When Kurt's response didn't come immediately, Blaine started cleaning up his textbooks and notebooks. That was one thing he'd learned very quickly about texting; responses were either immediate or took ten minutes or longer. Across the apartment, the front door opened and Jack called out a greeting.

"Blaine, you home?"

"In the living room," Blaine replied, stacking his books up next to the couch and tucking his notebooks into his bag.

There was a lot of shuffling by the front door as Blaine plopped back down on the couch. He stared intently at the baseball game and tried to recall any of the players names. The only names that kept springing to mind were ones from the 1950s, even a few from the early nineties. It made watching a lot less enjoyable when he had no idea who was who, what the team's stats were, or anything, really.

Jack appeared around the doorway a few minutes later, tie undone and shirt half untucked. He was about seven years older than Blaine, with hair cropped so short Blaine was even sure what color it was. Height was the only physical feature they had in common. It wasn't really an issue since their missions didn't overlap. Blaine wouldn't meet Jack's people and Jack wouldn't meet Blaine's. The two not really looking alike wasn't an issue. Even Blaine's real brother, Cooper, and he hadn't looked much alike. Cooper had taken after their father except for his eyes, and Blaine had been almost the spitting image of their mother: tan skin, dark curls, triangular eyebrows, but thicker. His eyes were his father's– and his grandfather's. Their mother had always remarked that they were both handsome, though, and Blaine tended to believe her for the most part. The girls had school had certainly agreed with her.

"You still trying to get their names sorted?" Jack asked with a glance at the television. He didn't like baseball. Not like Cooper did.

"Yeah, it's not really working," Blaine told him, glowering at the screen. His phone buzzed a second later and he smiled this time. Texting might be annoying, but getting to talk to Kurt more was always nice. It was weird to feel like he actually had a friend on one of his missions. But Kurt and he had a lot in common.

Kurt [8:01 P.M.]: Carole just made him move the napkin. He broke a pen all over the table. It's ruined. I'm gonna try to snap a pic before we all get arrested for destruction of private property.

Blaine grinned. Jack snorted across the room as he yanked his tie free.

"Damn, Blaine, keep smiling like that at your phone and you'll break the screen."

"What?" Blaine asked in confusion, looking up instead of trying to type out a decent response. "I'm not smiling any different than–"

"Talking to Kurt again," Jack cut in with a rueful shake of his head. It wasn't a question. Blaine felt his face flush as Jack reached out to playfully mess up his hair. "You're getting in deep really fast, bud."

"Stop– don't– I still haven't washed the gel out," Blaine reminded him as he ducked away. "You'll get it all over your hands."

"Ew," Jack grimaced, stepping away and yanking the rest of his shirt free. "So what sort of flirty message did he send you this time?"

"He's not– he's just out to dinner with his family," Blaine said, face still hot. He wasn't even sure why he was so embarrassed. There was no reason he shouldn't be texting Kurt after all. It was his mission to gain Kurt's trust and then... then what? He still had no idea what was next after helping Kurt come out to his father. Bullies at school, sure, but he didn't like the idea of facing that just yet. It was too close to home.

"Right," Jack said. He rolled his eyes and kicked his shoes off under the coffee table. "Well, if he's got any brains in his head he can see those heart eyes you're batting at him just as well as I can. Tone it down, would ya? I don't think the bosses will like that."

Shocked, Blaine watched Jack clamber off to his room for a shower. The very idea that he was – smitten? Was that even a term they still used?– was ridiculous. He was actively trying to avoid Kurt right now to help him forget his suspicions. He was just happy that Kurt was finally coming into himself and bettering his relationship with his father and, by extension, his possible stepmother and stepbrother. There was no reason he shouldn't smile over that.

His phone buzzed again. It was another message from Kurt, a picture of a light wooden table with a splattered, red splotch of ink. It took Blaine a minute to catch himself smiling this time. When he felt how huge his grin was, how much his eyes were crinkled up, and the way his heart had pattered a little faster in his chest, he paused. That was an odd feeling. Nice, but odd. Different. He glanced at the door Jack had closed behind himself and frowned.

It was still ridiculous.

The next morning at school, Blaine was a little apprehensive when he met up with Kurt. Had Jack actually noticed something he was missing? Was he acting different around Kurt than he was around everyone else?

The honest answer was yes. Of course he was. Kurt was his friend, his only friend at McKinley, so he definitely acted more warmly towards Kurt. But heart eyes? Toning it down? That made it sound like he had feeling feelings for Kurt. But he couldn't– shouldn't. He was here to help Kurt, not himself. Besides, Jack didn't know him that well. They'd only known each other for a few weeks. He didn't know what Blaine looked like when he liked someone. Even Blaine wasn't sure what he looked like. He'd never really had a real crush before, and definitely hadn't been in love. Jack was probably just mistaking his look for something else.

Throughout the day, Blaine watched himself even more around Kurt. He kept relaxing too much, and then realizing he was doing things he'd never really thought about before. In second block he took Kurt's hand under their table, in what he'd considered a friendly squeeze, but Kurt turned to him and smiled. His whole face was glowing as he squeezed back, and Blaine's stomach flipped at the toothy grin. His stomach had never done that before.

He watched Kurt for a moment. The way his eyelashes fanned down over his cheeks, the bashful little tilt of his head, and, most importantly, the light in his eyes as he glanced from Blaine's face to their linked hands. With a gulp, Blaine pulled his back and stared resolutely down at his textbook for the rest of class.

What was going on? This had to be Jack's fault. He'd planted that stupid thought in his head and now he was starting to panic and believe it. He was scared he was doing exactly what Jack seemed to think he was. Stubbornly, Blaine crossed his arms and tried to keep reading, but couldn't. It was difficult to realize that while Kurt was obviously a teenager now, Blaine was still treating him like that little boy he'd first met in a lot of ways. The mentor, the big brother and friend. That's what he'd been back then. But now... now he was a peer. He couldn't keep taking Kurt's hand to reassure and comfort him. Not when they were both gay and Kurt might think he meant something more by it, when he definitely, definitely didn't. Kurt wasn't an eight year old missing his recently deceased mother anymore. Kurt was a teenager – a boy with a compatible sexuality to his own and who he might unintentionally be leading on.

At lunch, Kurt finally seemed to notice how odd he'd been acting all day. Once they'd sat down, he looked over at Blaine curiously for several minutes and finally spoke up.

"Blaine? You're acting odd," Kurt said slowly. "You kept, like, pulling your hand back earlier and you aren't smiling like you normally do. Is everything... okay?"

"I– y- yeah," Blaine stammered, fumbling with his fork. He stared down at his salad and swallowed. He shouldn't be this nervous around Kurt. But he couldn't get what Jack had said out of his head. He did act more... something around Kurt. Surely Kurt had noticed. "Just tired," he added for good measure.

"Are you sure?" Kurt pressed, looking worried. He almost looked guilty, and Blaine flinched. He shouldn't feel guilty for his suspicions or the fact that Blaine was already royally fucking this mission up. His grandfather had been wrong. He wasn't ready for this, at least not if it was with Kurt.

Not when Kurt smiled at him like that, lips slightly parted and teeth peeking out. His eyes bright, too, like swirling galaxies and a beautiful Caribbean ocean and– damnit, Jack was right. He did feel... something. It was hard not to when he remembered the sad little boy he'd left behind eight years ago. This boy before him was incredible. Strong, brave, breathtaking– no. He couldn't think like that.

"... Blaine?" Kurt's voice yanked him out of his thoughts and Blaine felt his face flush. Kurt was watching him, looking even more worried by his silence and the fact that he'd been staring at him for the past few minutes.

"Huh?" Blaine yelped, wincing at the noise and hiding his gaze. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure."

"Okaaaaaaay," Kurt said slowly, clearly not believing him, but he plowed on with a bright smile anyway. "So I was thinking you could come over for dinner tonight? We could watch a few movies or something. Just hang out, read Vogue or plan outfits."

Like a date. It sounded like a date. A very casual one, but Blaine couldn't let this continue. He couldn't lead Kurt on, hurt him like that, and then somehow expect to help him with whatever he was here for.

"No, I um, Jack and I have plans," Blaine said quickly, trying not to look or sound guilty. "First official night being all unpacked and everything. We're gonna celebrate, go to dinner or something."

"Oh," Kurt murmured, looking crestfallen. "That's cool, too. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday?"

"Mhmm," Blaine nodded, stuffing his mouth full of food in a way he never had before. Anything was better than talking or noticing the hopeful warmth in Kurt's gaze right now. Maybe the food would make his stomach stop hopping about, too.

The week after Kurt came out was weird for Burt. His son was smiling and cheerful around him now. Kurt greeted him brightly and, while still a little timid, talked about his day, his classes, and, most importantly, Blaine. His son never shut up about the boy. It was eerily reminiscent of eight years ago, but with one huge difference; this Blaine was real. Burt had seen and talked to him. He even had his suspicions that Blaine was someone he needed to thank for Kurt finally coming out. It had come about so suddenly after Blaine appeared, he couldn't help but think it was linked.

All week things had been easy, but Blaine had also started hanging around less and less. By Wednesday Kurt wasn't around much either. He swore he was at the library in the afternoons, but Burt wasn't so sure. He knew Kurt was still relieved with coming out to him and that he'd been out with himself for quite some time, but it was strange. All of a sudden they were both not around after being here almost every afternoon before that.

It scared him, despite liking Blaine, that they were already seeing each other. Or even worse, sneaking around instead of telling him. Kurt wasn't ready for that yet. At least Burt didn't think he was, but the thought of Blaine taking advantage of his son's new excitement was a real possibility. They were teenage boys, after all. Burt might be in his forties now, but he still remembered being that young and the hormones that had raged well into his twenties. Being with someone was a thrill little else had matched.

When he got home from the shop on Friday, the house was empty. It worried him immediately, but soon Kurt would be home. He'd have a talk with him tonight about it even if he wasn't ready for that discussion. Kurt needed to be prepared for whatever he was starting with Blaine.

After a shower and starting dinner, Burt heard the front door squeak open. It was almost dark, but not too late yet. Good. That gave him more time to get up the courage to address this subject with Kurt so soon after he'd come out.

He finished up dinner, piled several spoonfuls onto two plates and carried them out to the living room where he could hear Kurt shuffling around. The sight that greeted him was a surprise. There were half a dozen old books piled up on the coffee table and Kurt was perusing one with such a serious expression that Burt didn't know what to say.

Apparently Kurt – and possibly Blaine – really were going to the library.

"You, uh, got a history project coming up?" Burt wondered aloud, setting Kurt's plate down next to the stack and reading the top one's title. McKinley High School: 1959-1960. It was yearbook from half a century ago. Why would Kurt be looking through that?

Burt sat down beside him, and started eating as Kurt flipped through page after page of another yearbook. It looked like it was from around the same time as the other one. Kurt was so busy flipping pages that he didn't even acknowledge him. After several minutes of his fork clinking against his plate and Kurt rustling pages, Burt finally spoke again.

"You gonna answer me or not, bud?" he asked, nudging Kurt with his elbow. "Hey, set the book down for a bit."

Kurt startled beside him. His left hand slapped the yearbook closed and he jumped away from Burt until he got a good look at him.

"God, Dad, you scared me," Kurt gasped, rubbing his chest and eyeing the plate for him. "Oh, dinner."

As Kurt grabbed the second plate and started shoving food into his mouth, Burt watched him. The entire scene before him was unusual. Kurt never ate that fast, but he did tend to be a little messy when it was just the two of them. His son was obviously preoccupied with whatever he was looking for in these yearbooks.

"So, you um, looking through old yearbooks?" Burt questioned uncertainly. He wanted to ask something else, but had no idea what to say.

"Mhmm."

"That's... cool. Something for school?"

"Uh, not really," Kurt offered, awkwardly trying to shovel another bite into his mouth. "It's... complicated."

"I've got all night, bud," Burt reminded him. "And I wanted to talk to you anyway."

Kurt looked up from his plate and re-opened the yearbook. "About what?" he asked in surprise.

Burt felt his face go hot at what he was about to say. He really didn't want to have this conversation so soon. Maybe in a few months, when he'd really settled into his son being openly gay and potentially dating someone, but not right now.

"A- about you and... Blaine," Burt grumbled in embarrassment. This wasn't going to go well at all. "You've both been, uh... gone a lot since you came out."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, and looked back at his yearbook. It was almost as if he was disinterested in the turn of the conversation. As if it didn't matter at all that he had a secret boyfriend.

"Yeah, I've been at the library and he's still unpacking," Kurt informed him with a small shrug. He started flipping pages again, hit the end of the book, and frowned in apparent disappointment. "He's coming over for dinner sometime this weekend. I made him promise."

"Right," Burt agreed, scooping his cap off and wiping up the sweat gathering on his head with his sleeve. God, maybe he should wait until they were both here at dinner, corner Blaine first. That'd be easier than trying to talk to Kurt right now. "Kurt, listen," he started, wiping his head again. Kurt looked over as he slid the next yearbook off the pile. "Bud, I know you just came out, but if you and Blaine wanna date, you don't have to keep it a secret– "

"What?"

Kurt's eyes were huge when he turned to look at Burt. The look was so stunned that Burt leaned back, face flushing. Okay, maybe he'd been wrong. That look clearly said he was wrong.

With a gulp, Burt turned his gaze to the stack of other yearbooks. "I um, you two just seem so... cozy?" he offered weakly. "I just assumed... since you came out, and then you both stopped hanging out here, and–"

"Dad, we– me and Blaine– " Kurt's face was an alarming shade of red when Burt looked over at him. "We aren't dating. I mean, he's... Dad, he's wonderful, but... "

Kurt's blush faded and was replaced with a frown. It didn't make sense to Burt. His son never shut up about Blaine; how great he was, how funny, kind, and charming. He could tell Kurt liked him more than friends, but he seemed to be having some sort of doubts about Blaine.

"But what?" Burt pressed, setting down his plate as Kurt did the same. "You two aren't having problems, are you? He's not pressuring– "

"Blaine isn't like that, Dad," Kurt said immediately. "He wasn't when I was a kid either."

Burt stared over at his son in confusion for a moment. Then it hit him. Kurt's imaginary Blaine from when he was a boy. Even Burt had noticed the similarities with Blaine and those descriptions. It was impossible not to.

"Now, Dad, I know you're gonna think I'm crazy again, but– "

"I have never thought you were crazy, Kurt," Burt cut in. His chest throbbed a little at how easily Kurt said that. Like he'd believed it for years and had accepted it. "Lonely as a boy, yes, but never crazy for wanting Blaine to be real."

"But... Dad, he is real," Kurt insisted, looking flustered. "Please, just hear me out, okay? Even I don't understand this, but Blaine – the one living and breathing and here now – that's the same boy I met eight years ago. He is exactly like him. He walks and talks and knows things I only told that Blaine, Dad. Even Mr. Schuester recognizes him from his high school days. And he's got the exact same pocket watch–"

"Wait," Burt interrupted in surprise. "Mr. Schuester remembers him from his school days?"

Burt frowned at the implications of those words. Will Schuester had gone to McKinley in the early nineties or late eighties. Kurt hadn't even been alive then. The Blaine Kurt had imagined had been a decade after Will Schuester was in high school.

"Yeah, I mean, he said Blaine looks just like a boy that was there his senior year, and that his name is the same and that that kid died that year, Dad," Kurt explained. He leaned over and unzipped his bag. "And I looked through that yearbook and photocopied some pages," he continued, yanking several papers from his bag. "He's listened in a few clubs and as a junior, but he's not pictured."

Burt took the papers his son handed him and looked over them. Kurt had already highlighted Blaine's name on each page, along with the parentheses after his name that said he was not pictured. It could easily be a coincidence. Blaine had said his family had lived in this part of Ohio for generations. Maybe it had been his cousin or uncle with the same first name.

He flipped through the pages slowly as Kurt watched him anxiously. He didn't know what the best thing to say was. The idea that Kurt still remembered his imaginary Blaine worried him, but at the same time, this boy was so much like the one Kurt had always talked about. Kurt being reminded of that was understandable.

"What did Blaine say to Mr. Schuester about that?" he asked instead of trying to bring Kurt down from this. Not yet. If he let Kurt get it all out maybe he'd realize how impossible all of this was.

"He said that that boy was his father's brother and that he died and then Blaine was named after him," Kurt answered swiftly. "But, Blaine also said his father and uncles all lived here their entire lives and his uncle isn't listed in any year before that. Not even in the middle school yearbooks or the elementary ones. I checked."

Brow furrowed, Burt flipped through a few more pages and found photocopies of pages from the yearbooks Kurt had just mentioned. Sure enough there was no Blaine Anderson listed. There wasn't an Anderson in the whole book according to Kurt's scrawled notes.

"Dad, I... I know this is crazy," Kurt began nervously, "but I don't know what else to make of him. I know it's him. He knew things I'd only told my Blaine when I was a kid. He knew you were dating Carole without me ever even mentioning that you were a widower. He's... do you remember the pocket watch I told you my Blaine used to carry?"

Burt grunted and nodded as he flipped through a few more pages. It was hard to forget the detailed pictures Kurt had drawn of the watch. It was remarkable to see Kurt putting so much effort into this, but it still worried him because what Kurt was implying didn't make any sense to him. He believed in God and a higher power, sure, but he'd never seen any signs of an afterlife before. The only way any of this would make sense was if Blaine was... well, not of this world in some way.

"He still has that watch, Dad," Kurt remarked quietly. "He let me see it on Monday. It's still got his full name engraved on it and the same musical staff and notes design. I know it's crazy and impossible, but I just don't know what else to think. He is my Blaine, Dad. Nothing else makes sense."

Burt watched his son quietly for several minutes. Kurt was biting his lip and looking scared. He didn't blame him. Anyone else would dismiss his research and say he was crazy, but Burt couldn't. Blaine had always meant so much to his son, and even if Kurt's memories were a little messed up, Burt still recalled all the descriptions Kurt had once given him twice a day.

"He's got this pretty pocket watch, Daddy. With that fish clef thing on the front and his whole name– "

"Have you asked him about any of it?" Burt asked.

"No," Kurt muttered, shaking his head. "Not yet. I mean, I've just got empty yearbook pages and memories right now. I'm not sure what it'll all even mean if I do find him in these."

As Kurt gestured to the stack in front of them, Burt took in the years on the covers again. 1960. That was even before his time. A decade before he had even been thought about. Even with everything Kurt had just said, he didn't understand why Kurt was looking back so far. Before he could ask, Kurt picked the top one up and ran his fingers over the cover.

"When he let me look at his watch, there was a date on the back," he admitted slowly. "1959. He said his grandfather gave it to him for his sixteenth birthday and that it was brand new."

"That's not new," Burt stated in surprise as Kurt set the yearbook back down and started slowly flipping through the one in front of him. "Has he mentioned anything about the school he went to before to you?"

Kurt frowned and paused. "No," he said. "Has he told you anything?"

"Yeah," Burt told him. "First day you brought him home. I was asking some basics, and he said he'd transferred from a prep school called Dalton on the other side of Columbus, I think."

"I'll google it on my phone," Kurt decided after a moment.

Burt watched him start typing on his phone and tried to think of other possibilities. If everything Kurt was saying was true, then he didn't know what to make of this. But he didn't want to think of his son as a liar either. Not when his own memories were backing up some of what Kurt had said. Yet, how could Blaine be sixteen at four different points in time? It wasn't possible as far as Burt knew. The very idea was preposterous. Still, as Burt watched Kurt wait for his phone to finish its search he knew something weird was happening with this Blaine kid. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Kurt's brow creased in confused a few seconds later. "It... Dad, was the name Dalton Academy?"

"Yeah," Burt sighed with a little nod. "West of Columbus, I believe is what he said."

"Dalton Academy closed in 1976."

Burt's head shot up from where it had started to sink back into the cushions. "Wh– "

Before he could ask any further questions, Burt found Kurt's phone in his face and a news article about the old school being renovated into a home for orphaned and underprivileged children. It was dated from the late nineties. Swallowing loudly, Burt eyed the yearbook Kurt still had open on the table.

"You said that pocket watch was 1959, right?" he asked.

Kurt nodded vigorously and set his phone aside. "This yearbook is from 1959 to 1960," he explained. "I'm guessing he was a junior if what I'm thinking is right."

Burt shivered and scooped up their empty plates. All of this made him really nervous and uncomfortable. The idea that Blaine was all of these boys at different times was insane. There was no way it was possible. There had to be a logical explanation and yet... what else could explain any of this unless Blaine was... what, dead? An angel of some sort?

"I'm gonna go clean up," Burt decided as Kurt started turning pages again. "You let me know if you find anything, okay?"

Kurt hummed in agreement as Burt got up and started for the kitchen. He only made it a few steps before Kurt's loud gasp had him spinning back around.

"Dad, I found him! That's him!"

Burt ducked over the back of the couch to look at the page Kurt was holding up for him to see. Sure enough there was Blaine's young, handsome face smiling back at him. It was a little plumper and younger looking than it was now, but there was no mistaking him. Triangular eyebrows, soft curls parted to one side, and bright eyes that were dimmed by the black and white picture. The little bow tie under his chin was even familiar. The pattern was so distinct Burt couldn't mistake it for anything else. He'd worn it just the other day when he'd been here.

Kurt pulled the yearbook back and settled it into his lap. "He's a sophomore in this one, but I already looked through the year after and he wasn't in it at all," he said thoughtfully. He set the book down on the table and picked the one up from the year before. Burt watched him flipped through it swiftly until he got to the freshmen section. It only took him a few seconds to spot Blaine, looking even younger, on the page.

"He's listed as a freshman in this one," Kurt said quietly. "What do you think– is he–"

"I dunno," Burt answered honestly.

"Y- you do believe me, don't you, Dad?"

Burt swallowed again and nodded slowly. "Yeah, bud. Yeah, I do. But I don't understand what this means for him."

Kurt dropped his chin into his hand and stared at the two pictures. Burt looked down at them, too; at the handsome young man smiling brightly up at them and the younger boy, probably with a cracking voice and a head shorter. Blaine was definitely a little older now than in those pictures, but he wasn't the age he apparently should be. He couldn't be older than seventeen.

"I... I think I'm gonna see if the local library has, like, old newspaper articles and o- obituaries and stuff in their records," Kurt said slowly, biting his lip and shaking his head in disbelief. "I... "

Kurt trailed off and didn't finish the thought, but Burt knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing he was thinking.