Perhaps it was fate. Fate, serendipity, chance, providence. Call it what you like, but something so very special, magical even, brought two individuals together in times when they needed each other most.

8-year-old Kurt Elizabeth Hummel sat on the cold, hard chair outside his mother's hospital ward, trying his best to stop the waterfall of tears that had not stopped since he saw her fragile body lying so very still on the hospital bed. It's not fair, his small heart said, with every beat. Please God, I promise I'll be such a good boy. I'll listen to everything Daddy says. I'll even eat all my vegetables. Please, please make mummy better. This could very well be the last time Kurt ever uttered God's name unironically.

See, Kurt loved his mother with all of his heart. To him, she was not merely his mother, but his best friend, his confidante, his playmate. He couldn't imagine a life, he won't imagine a life without her. And so, as the seconds ticked on, all Kurt could do was repeat the mantra, please make her better, hoping against hope that somehow, it'll be okay.

Burt Hummel glanced at his son, heart aching like a vise that wouldn't let go.

“Hey buddy, it'll be okay, I promise.”

Kurt lifted watery eyes blue-grey eyes, the exact same shade as his mother's, to meet his fathers. Kurt nodded, but more tears threatened to spill. Burt knelt down in front of his son, gathered him in his arms and hugged him. He poured all his love and strength in that hug. “It'll be okay, it'll be okay,” Burt repeated, whether to convince himself, or Kurt, he didn't know.

When Kurt calmed down after a bit, Burt said, “Why don't you go get us some drinks?” He passed his son some coins and Kurt nodded, heavy steps plodding toward the vending machine at the end of the corridor.

Passing a row of benches, Kurt noticed a little boy who was also crying. Ever the compassionate soul that his mother had raised him to be, Kurt stopped right in front of the boy.

And what happens next shocked the boy so much that he stopped crying.

Kurt, knowing only one way to stop a crying person (because that's what his mommy and daddy always did), hugged the little boy, tight.

“It'll be okay, I promise,” Kurt repeated his father's words.

Blaine Anderson, boy in question, was stunned. The warmth from the strange boy's hug however, managed to fill the cold and empty feeling in his body. Tentatively, he hugged the strange boy back.

“Thank you.”

“It'll be okay,” Kurt said once more. Making sure that the boy had now stopped crying, he waved goodbye and made a move toward the vending machine.

8-year-old Blaine looked at the figure slowly disappearing down the corridor. For the first time in a really long time, a small smile made its way on his face.

Moments later, his mother appeared, “Come on Blaine, let's go.” They left the hospital. Blaine did not know this yet, but his father had just passed away.  But right now, at this very moment, the warmth from the strangers hug still lingered and he could feel the phantom brush of hand on his back. At this moment, he thought, it's going to be okay.

He was disappointed that he didn't ask for the boy's name.

A year later, as Blaine was visiting his father's grave with his mother and older brother, chance struck once again.

Blaine hated, absolutely abhorred the smell of cemeteries. It reminded him only of death, sadness and just the feeling of utter helplessness.

Blaine passed by a family, and he noticed a little boy who looked familiar and a gruff old man who was holding the boy's hand tightly.

Kurt shed silent tears, clutching Burt's hand equally tight, like it was a lifeline, the only thing that was keeping him together. It had been a tough battle with cancer, endless nights of constant vigil and mornings of dread and worry; it was a battle that his beloved mother had lost. Kurt, now more jaded and disillusioned, still maybe hoped that his mother was in heaven. After all, she was the nicest and most wonderful person he had ever known, and if she was not in heaven, he didn't know who else deserved the spot.

Burt realized he had forgotten the flowers in the car. Elizabeth had always liked flowers, and so he told Kurt, “I'll going to get the flowers okay, buddy? Stay here for a little bit.” With that, he rushed off.

Now alone, the bitter cold wind sweeping his slight and slim figure, Kurt shivered.

Next thing he knew, warm arms were around him. Startled, Kurt tried to look at the stranger, but his vision was blocked by a puffy black coat. A small boy, smaller than Kurt (and Kurt really was quite small for his age) had embraced him. Feeling that he posed no threat, Kurt relaxed into the hug.

“It'll be okay,” Blaine told the stranger.

Kurt nodded once, letting the assurance in the stranger's voice comfort him.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, simply.

Blaine ended the embrace, and started to walk away. Kurt's eyes tracked the vanishing figure, the bite of the winter's wind not quite so cold anymore. Kurt thought, I should have asked for his name.

And, if you believe in souls, a few feet away, was a figure of a woman with long flowing brown hair and eyes the colour of the sea on a bright summer's day. She smiled to herself, knowing just how special these two boys will be to one another. With a last, lingering look at her son, she disappeared.

It was a long time before they meet next, Kurt and Blaine.

Blaine was 13 years old. He was so excited about the school dance, but also nervous, because he had asked Ethan to the dance. He knew it was a controversial, even dangerous thing to have done, but he was just so tired of hiding who he was.

Deciding that he needed breath mints, because who knows, he might be experiencing his first kiss tonight! Blaine went into the nearest 7-11 he could find. As he was deciding between cherry, mint, lemon and bacon (?), the tinkling of the door announced the entrance of a group of jocks entered the store. Blaine's heart started beating harder, please don't notice me, please don't notice me.

Blaine tried to escape as quietly as possible, holding his breath as he reached for the handle of the door. He was going to make it…

“Look, what we have here. Bloody faggot trying to run away,” Blaine heard the words, dread filling his entire being. He pushed the door wide open and started running with all the strength his little legs could carry.

He heard the thumping of several feets in his wake, and knew he was in for it. He urged his legs to go faster, his breath labored. Rounding a corner, he was faced with a dead end. Shit. Shit.

When the first blow landed, Blaine tried to make his body as small as possible. Please go away, leave me alone, he thought. Someone, please help.

And of course, who else was coincidentally doing some shopping in Westerville, besides one Kurt Hummel. Kurt was overjoyed because he had just made a purchase for an Alexander McQueen coat at 60% off. He touched the soft leather reverently, so very pleased with himself.

It was when he turned the corner that he noticed what was happening. Kurt's heart sank, watching the brutal and violent scene in front of him.

Kurt immediately took out his phone to call the police and the ambulance. After that was done, he approached the group of bullies, because that was what they are, bullies.

“Hey! Stop it!” Kurt tried.

They did not notice Kurt.

“I CALLED THE POLICE! GET OFF OF HIM.”

That, fortunately, caught the bullies attention. They turned their attention toward him. Kurt was frightened for his life, the smell of sweat, blood and the grime of the street pungent in the air.

In the distance, the sounds of sirens could be heard. The group of bullies, startled at the sound, gave Kurt the finger and proceeded to run away.

Kurt gulped, slowly approaching the beaten figure on the ground. He looked, well, Kurt couldn't even tell what he looked like, with blood matting his dark hair and swollen eyes. The angle of his arm looked like it was broken.

Kurt gingerly lifted the boy's head and placed it on his lap. He tried to see if he was still breathing, and was so very relieved when he was.

“It'll be okay, the ambulance is coming. It'll be okay,” Kurt repeated to the boy, hoping that he can hear him.

Blaine, who by now had lost consciousness, felt gentle fingers combing through his hair. His whole body felt like it was on fire, it burned, everywhere. Maybe he was dead, but he was pretty sure the pain he felt meant that he was alive. He tried to open his swollen eyes and managed only to get one side open. The vision that graced him made him think he was dead: soft, perfectly coiffed brown hair and grey, green, blue eyes that were swirling with warmth. He looked like he was an angel; maybe Blaine deserved heaven after all, no matter what his grandmother keeps saying.

“It'll be okay,” Kurt kept saying while waiting for the ambulance, tears threatening to fall. It was so unfair, what gave those stupid, homophobic Neanderthals the right to do whatever they want to another human being. Kurt felt indignant and mad. In fact, this was the first time he had ever felt so angry.

Blaine, who just kept gazing at the angelic figure above him, saw that the angel was crying, tears spilling out of those everything eyes. He was filled with a strong urge to make the angel stop crying, he didn't know why and it didn't even make any sense, but he felt so very protective of the angel.

“Don't…cry…angel,” Blaine said slowly and brokenly.

Kurt was startled. He didn't expect that the stranger was conscious. Just as he was about to reply, he heard the sound of the ambulance. A group of paramedics came to tend to the broken boy and Kurt could only look on, desperately wishing that the boy would survive.

Blaine final thought was of what he now thought of as his own personal angel.  

Years passed. Blaine, after that fateful incident, was enrolled into Dalton Academy for its zero tolerance policy. He thrived in Dalton, and found acceptance with the Warbles. However, the image of his angel keep plaguing his sleep and more often than not, when Blaine was caught day-dreaming, he was thinking of his angel. Blaine was not quite certain whether he had imagined his angel, but what he did know was that his angel kept him going. Whenever Blaine felt down, he only had to imagine the angel and he would be filled with resolve once again.

In fact, Blaine was so caught up with his imaginary angel that he turned down all offers by boys that wanted to go out with him. He would always blush, happy that people found him attractive, but ultimately turning them down gently, saying “my heart is already taken.” It was true, he could only think of his angel, even 3 years later and it would not be fair to lead others on.

Blaine's friend found all this highly amusing and would always make jokes about his imaginary angel. Blaine took this all in stride, knowing that someday, someday, he'll eventually meet his angel.

Kurt however, did not thrive. Life in Lima, Ohio was not all that he expected it to be. It was more than obvious that he was, well, gay and while he had never uttered those words out loud, it didn't stop the bullies from tormenting him.

Kurt was proud of himself though, he had managed to remain completely true to who he was (except for that one week that he'd rather forget when he wore flannel shirts and jeans, and had a girlfriend) and he knew that in just a few more years, he would be out of this backwater town. He was headed for New York, he was headed for stardom, and nothing, and no one is going to stop him.

Now, the bullying got worse, as we all know, when David Karovsky cornered Kurt in the boy's locker room and kissed him. After which he promptly threatened Kurt's life. What's different this time around was that Kurt never told his father about Karovsky's threats, and his father too, didn't find out. And so, our two heroes did not meet that fateful day on the grand and ornate flight of stairs at Dalton academy. Then Principle Sylvester had enforced a strict “no bullying” policy when she had discovered Kurt crying in the locker room, perhaps the only commendable thing that she did in all her years as an educator.

Kurt and Blaine had missed their moment for a happily ever after when Mr. Schuster decided that Kurt could, in fact, join the girls team for their annual boys vs girls sing off.

Even when McKinley and Dalton competed with one another, our boys did not manage to meet. Kurt's only thought as he was listening to Dalton's lead vocalist was, wow, he has a great voice. And when Blaine heard Kurt's solo for sectionals, he thought that if his angel could sing, he would definitely sound like that. Unfortunately for both boys, they were sitting so far back in the auditorium that they could not see each other.

And that was how the story of two souls who had helped one another in their very toughest moments came to be. We are now at the crossroads. Kurt, who is now in New York, making his way to NYADA with Rachel, stopped by a quaint little coffee shop called Elizabeth to get his daily fix of a hot non-fat grande mocha. The coffee shop reminded him of his mother, it was warm, comforting and even had the scent of lavender that he had always reminded him of his mother. He had made it a point to come almost everyday.

As he was waiting for his order, talking animatedly with Rachel about the crazy schedule their dance teacher, Cassandra July, had forced on them, Blaine passed by the coffee shop.

Normally, Blaine frequented the Starbucks near his campus at NYU, where he was studying music and composition, but today, something about this particular shop made him stop. Maybe it was the little rainbow reflected on the spotless glass of the shop, or the way the hanging sign, Elizabeth, was swaying under the force of the gentle autumn wind. He decided, why not, and pushed to open the door.

And boy, was Blaine glad that he listened to that little voice in his head that had said, go in Blaine. Go.

Right there, right in front of him, was his angel. His angel. With the soft and silky brown hair and those blue-grey-green eyes that had haunted his dreams since he could remember. Blaine was transfixed. He had absolutely no idea what to do.

Kurt, on the other hand, was completely unaware of Blaine's tumultuous emotions. He grabbed his coffee, said a brief thank you and proceeded to rush out of the shop.

And now, here is the moment.

Blaine, who was still not in possession of his limbs, stood there, rooted to the ground.

They collided. Kurt's spilled coffee of Blaine.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. It'll be okay.”

It was at that moment that Kurt met Blaine's eyes. And it seemed like the world stopped moving, like the earth, for that one moment, had ceased to turn on its axis. For that moment, the world reoriented itself around Kurt and Blaine. It was a single moment, but it was the culmination of so much more, so many moments that had lead to this very incident. It was a fleeting moment, but for Kurt and Blaine, it was forever.

Blaine said, “It's you. I've been looking for you forever.”