They say it was government scientists that figured it out, that cracked the code. They say that the government realised how powerful, how dangerous, this information could be. �So they hid it, but still, it got out. �It’s said that there are people out there that can tell you everything you want to know. They’re called Analysts, and no one is really sure who they are, but if you try hard enough, you can find one. �Every child grows up hearing stories of Analysts, and the people who went to see them. �They’re told that if you go to an Analyst, you can find out the rest of your life. �You can be told what will happen, and when. �Not the details, not the minutiae, but the big moments, the important moments, the moments that count.

Not everyone wants to know, of course. �Most people don’t. When the Analysts first started, there was a sharp spike in suicides. At least, that’s the rumours. �The press barely touched the stories, maybe out of fear of government intervention. �But the stories came all the same, passed between people. �Apparently, some people would come home from an Analyst and not tell anyone about what they heard. �Then they’d be found, hours later, days later, weeks later. Hanging from rope, in their still-running cars, with a discharged gun in their hand, washed up on a beach somewhere. �People talked about it. They said that it was always going to happen. �That these people, they went to an Analyst, and were told they were going to kill themselves. What choice did they have, then? Did the knowledge drive them to madness? The inevitability?

Most people would rather live in ignorance, in bliss, without having their whole lives mapped out in front of them, unable to change them. �So they say, that the choice to know, it’s predetermined too. �From the moment you are born, from the moment your parents are born, from the moment life itself started, the decision was already made. Whether or not you will know.

Kurt Hummel has spent his entire life looking for answers. �When he was eight, he wanted to know why he wasn’t allowed to have a mother, when everyone else did. He wanted to know why he lost the things he loved, while everyone else got to keep them.

Later, he wanted to know why he was different, why he liked boys, when it wasn’t accepted or allowed. He wanted to know why the way he loved was wrong.

When he was told his father had a heart attack, was in hospital and they didn’t know if he would make it or not, he wanted to know why this was happening to him. �Why it was happening again.

So he goes to find out. �The time he spends away from the hospital, in that big house, all alone, he spent searching. �He looks on the internet, he calls random numbers he finds, until he finds what he was looking for. �What, he supposes, he would always find.

It was always going to happen.

He goes to that room, to that nondescript house in a part of town he’d never heard of, and he sits down, and he hears about the rest of his life.

He walks out, and he feels nothing.

~~

The first thing he was told was that his father would live. �He almost doesn’t want to believe it, to let himself. �Partly because he doesn’t want to be disappointed. Partly, in the deep, dark, horrible part of himself, he thinks - if my father dies now, then it means everything else is wrong.

�He hates himself, but in a tiny, weak, terrible moment, he hopes that’s what happens.

But then his father is okay, he pulls through, and Kurt holds his hand and looks at him and thinks, I’m so glad you’re alive.

He also thinks, so, that’s the rest of my life, then. �It’s true, it’s predetermined, and that’s that..

**

When Kurt meets Blaine on those stairs, he is surprised. �His breath is taken away, his world world rocked. �Not because it is unexpected, not really, because he’s known about Blaine, and everything they will have, for months now, when it’s seemed like both a blessing and a curse.

He is surprised by the way he feels. By his inability to breathe, by the way he feels like he has been punched in the stomach, by the fact that the world is suddenly brighter and more beautiful and everything, suddenly, means something, out of the abyss of nothingness.

And when he hears Teenage Dream, his life turns upside down. �Which is ridiculous, of course, because he already knows his life, back to front, past to future, beginning to end.

**

“Oh there you are, I’ve been looking for you forever.” �Kurt hears the words, he feels the kiss, and his heart soars. �Just because you know something is coming, doesn’t make it any less special.

**

They had been together for a year and a half, before the question.

People don’t talk about it, not really, because people didn’t want to know. �They joke and laugh, but they don’t ask seriously, in case the answer is the one they don’t want. �Would you want to know? If someone you knew, knew exactly how your entire friendship, relationship, would play out, would you want to know? Would you want to know, if they knew?

But they are in love, and that’s the sort of question you ask, while cuddling half naked on a sunny summer day.

“Have you ever thought about going, to find out?” Blaine asks, not needing to explain, because everyone grew up on the knowledge, on the folk lore, of what the words “find out” mean.

Kurt is at a crossroads, but not really.

That’s the thing. �He always knew this question was coming. �It was written, of course, in the Analysis. �It was written what he would say, and he always thought, in that tiny part of him that said, “I am different from them, I don’t have to do what they say, I can break the mould, I can be free”, that he would answer differently. �

But he didn’t.

“No,” Kurt lies, and that is the start.

**

When Kurt’s father dies, in his senior year of College, Kurt has to put on an act. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, pretending like he hasn’t known, for the last five years of his life, that this was coming. That he hasn’t made sure to tell Burt every day that he loves him, that he hasn’t kept a mental tally of the days left that he had.

But he lets Blaine look after him, and he kisses him, and everything is alright, for a while.

Blaine talks about the future sometimes. �Their future, he calls it. Blaine thinks that Kurt is shy, is hesitant, that he doesn’t want to commit too early. �Blaine doesn’t understand. Not at all.

Kurt knows their relationship, inside out. �The broad strokes of it all are there in his mind, the sketch, the design. �The details are only filled in for the past, but he knows the future too. �He knows every significant moment: he knew when they would say ‘I love you’, the moment they would move in together, and, in the future - �the time when they will get married.

He sees it all.

And he cannot stop any of it.

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? You think you’re going to get knowledge, to get insight, into your future. You think that you go and you gain something from your Analysis, some control over the future, like knowing is somehow preparing you.

But you don’t gain anything. �You lose something.

What you lose is your freedom, your choices. �You’re locked into this hell, and you can’t escape, because no matter what you do, these are always the choices you are going to make.

**

The first time Kurt and Blaine fight, properly fight, it’s stupid. �It’s over their apartment, and where they’re living. �They’re in New York, Blaine says, and beyond that, it doesn’t matter. He’d be happy living in a closet. �But Kurt fights back, with cruel words, and they go to bed angry, Blaine on the couch, Kurt in the bed, curled up into a ball, wishing that he could believe that this was the last time he’d feel like this..

In the middle of the night, Blaine tiptoes back into their bedroom, and crawls into bed, and wraps his arms around Kurt, and whispers in his ear, not sure if he’s awake or asleep, “I love you, I’ll always love you, and any Analyst could tell you that,” as if it’s a joke, as if it’s a metaphor, as if it’s not Kurt’s own private hell he’s referencing.

And Kurt pretends he’s asleep, because it’s easier that way.

**

Kurt applies for the job at the magazine, and he gets it. They say it’s because of his confidence, but he knows that it was going to happen anyway. Maybe that’s the reason he was confident. Maybe that’s how this whole thing works. He tries to forget, and lose himself in his work.

**

Blaine comes home, one day when they’re both twenty-five, and Kurt knows exactly what’s going to happen. �He didn’t know that it would be today, that it would be now, but he knew it would be soon, and he knew Blaine.

There’s a nice dinner, there’s dancing, and there’s a walk in Central Park.

Blaine gets down on one knee and tells Kurt how much he loves him. How much he means to him. How much he needs to be with him forever. �“You and me, Kurt, it was always meant to be,” he says, as he slips the ring on to Kurt’s finger.

Kurt feels sick, and pushes down the thoughts of if only you knew, and says ‘yes’, mostly because it’s what he wants to say, but partially because it’s what he always knew he’d say, anyway.

**

The wedding is beautiful, all black and white and classy, with Blaine singing inappropriate songs and the Glee club giving inappropriate toasts and everything is beautiful and happy and shiny and Kurt forgets, for a minute, or two, exactly what his life is, what is life will be.

When Blaine takes him to bed that night, it’s perfect. It's what they’ve done a thousand times before, but it’s different now, because there’s the promise of the future. �Even if it’s a promise Kurt knows he can’t keep..

Blaine, he promises “forever”. Kurt, he promises, “until”

And as Kurt is on top of Blaine, moving slowly against him, his husband, looking down into his eyes in the dim light, he mentally takes a picture, and thinks, even if this doesn’t last forever, and I know it won’t, I can remember it for ever, and that has to be enough.

**

Kurt sees the end coming. �He doesn’t know the exact date, the exact time, but the knows the year, the season. �He doesn’t know how, or why, but he can start to guess. �Blaine notices something, that something is going on, that something is wrong. Kurt is withdrawn, he says. �He’s not talking as much, he looks sad all the time, he looks paranoid, and worried, and so tired. �

Kurt knows that it will be over, soon enough. �

It becomes too much. �Kurt has to get away, after one night of Blaine prying and prying and caring and loving, he goes to that horrible bar down the road, the one that he and Blaine always make fun of, the bar that they say is for desperate old gays who can’t meet cute guys anymore. �He goes in and drinks, he drinks scotch, which he never drinks, as if that’s some sort of ‘fuck you’ to the predictability of the universe. but he laughs to himself, because he knows, he knows, that somewhere in a computer out there, in some notebook or journal or however the fuck they do it, it’s written down, 9.30pm, Kurt Hummel drinks a scotch.

And an acceptable guy comes up to him, and talks to him, and he thinks, this is it. This is what will happen to make you and Blaine break up, and all that’s left to do is to actually do it.

But then this guy, whose name Kurt doesn’t even bother to remember, tries to kiss him, and Kurt pushes him away. �He looks down at his hands, surprised, as if he had a power he didn’t even know he had. �In a way, that’s exactly what it is. �The guy looks at him, confused, and Kurt says, “leave me alone.”

And he does.

Kurt goes home, slightly drunk on alcohol, positively intoxicated on possibilities, and he finds Blaine, in their living room, looking angry and worried. �He grabs him, and kisses him, and doesn’t let go, until they’re curled up sweaty and naked and panting. �He leans over and kisses Blaine on the forehead and tells him, “I’ll love you forever.”

For a while, Kurt believes it. �He lets himself believe that the future is still his to change.

**

But over the next days, weeks, the feeling creeps back. �Kurt has time to think about it, really think about it, and he realises, nothing has changed. �Because it wasn’t in the Analysis that it was that night. �It could just as easily be tonight, or tomorrow, or any other night. �It could be this, cheating, or it could be something else.

It has to happen, though. �One way or the other, it has to happen. �Kurt knows this.

The moment that changes everything is when he opens up the paper, on a Sunday, no less, to see a feature article. �He sees the word Analyst, and his heart sinks, but he reads on.

It’s the usual sort of story, about someone who went to see an Analyst, and how accurate it has all been. �The story finishes with the subject making a coy statement about her future - “well, that’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

Kurt wishes he could joke about it. �But he knows what will happen, with Blaine, with him. �And that moment, he has clarity. �He knows why it ends now. �He knows why it has to end.

He knows that he has to end it.

**

“It’s over,” Kurt says to Blaine, and wants to laugh at the simplicity of it all. �Those months, years, of wondering how and why it ends, and it comes down to those simple words. �“I can’t love you anymore. �You can’t love me any more. �I’m sorry.”

Blaine laughs, with shock, with disbelief. �He realises, slowly, that Kurt is serious. �That this is really happening. �His eyes fill with tears, his face a picture of confusion and loss. �He begs Kurt to tell him why, to explain, something. �He tells Kurt that he’s noticed that he’s been distant lately, maybe he’s depressed, maybe they can get help together, and fix this.

He offers Kurt so many different futures that Kurt can never ever live.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, again and again, but he doesn’t know what else to say, how else to say it. �“It’s over, it has to be over, there’s nothing we can do to change it. �I know it.”

And then Blaine looks at him, really looks at him, and it’s as if a lightbulb turns on in his head. �

“You know. �You know it has to be over?” �Blaine says, phrased as a question, but not really. The look in his eyes says it all. The knows that Kurt knows. He’s figured out that Kurt has known all along. �Kurt’s always thought that Blaine guessed, Blaine wondered - those questioning looks, those questions not asked, but now he can see, Blaine knows.

“I... yes.”

“When. �When did you find out,” Blaine asks, and Kurt didn’t see this coming. �He didn’t want to say this.

He didn’t want it all to be a lie, to be fake, to be a mistruth. �But.

“I was sixteen.”

“Before we met. �You knew before we met,” Blaine said, half angry, half questioning, obviously trying to come to grips with it all.

“Yes.”

“And you never said anything.”

“I...” Kurt has nothing to say. �What do you say? Yes, I knew this, all along. I knew everything that would happen, every high, every low, and I kept them from you.

“You knew this would happen,” Blaine states.

“Yes,” Kurt says again.

“You knew we would - we would fall in love. We would get married. And then this. �That it would be over. �And you - you let it happen.”

Kurt doesn’t want to point out the obviousness of it all. That yes, of course he knew. That was the point. �But he didn’t let it happen. It was going to happen anyway. �All along, he was going to know, and his heart was going to break.

“So you know, then,” Blaine says, sounding as if he’s still figuring it all out, piece by piece. �“You know, and I don’t. Well, Kurt? Is this the end? Is this it? �Are we over - for good? Is this the last time we see each other?”

Kurt can’t even look him in the eye.

“Fucking hell, Kurt. You know. YOU KNOW. Don’t I deserve to know, too? �Can’t you tell me this one damn thing, so I can let go of any goddamn hope I might have had? Is this it? Is this the end?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, quietly. �Then again, louder. “Yes.”

“Just one question,” Blaine asked. “Why did you stay?”

Kurt doesn’t say, because I had no choice. Because it was predetermined. Because I was always going to love you, and this was always going to break my heart, and I was always going to choose it. Because that’s not an answer, not really. �It might be the truth, but it’s not answer.

“Because I’d rather have you for a while, and know I was going to lose you, than not have you at all.”

And Kurt walks out the door, and that’s the last time he ever sees Blaine.

**

Just as he always knew how it would start, he always knew how it would end.

Kurt leans against the door he just walked out of, and chokes back a sob. �He feels relief, though, because it is.

Because he knows his future.

In three years, Kurt will get into a taxi. He won’t make it to his destination. The cab will be t-boned by another car, and Kurt will breathe his last breath. �

He doesn’t know this now, but Kurt will fight for his life at first, even though he knows it’s pointless. �But then he’ll give in, and just think of Blaine. �And those mental pictures, the ones he’s kept so carefully, will flow through his mind, one by one. �Blaine on the staircase, that first day they met. Blaine on stage, shining brighter than any star Kurt has ever seen. �Blaine taking his hand, and kissing him for the first time. �Blaine at prom. �Blaine on their graduation day. �Blaine knocking on his dorm door on the first day of college. �Blaine kissing him as they move into their very first apartment. Blaine, down on one knee, promising Kurt the future. �Blaine standing in front of him, promising to love him forever. �Blaine underneath him, as they’re together for the first time as a married couple. �Blaine, coming home from work, on an ordinary day, and kissing him just the way he needed to be kissed. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.

Blaine will hear about it - Kurt’s not sure how, not sure when - but he knows. �Blaine will hear, and he will understand.

He’ll understand why this was always going to happen. �That Kurt knew about this, his own death, as well as the rest, and that’s the reason it ended. He’ll know that Kurt gave him three years to prepare for this, years to meet someone else, to be happy, to get over him, before Kurt was gone.

Kurt gave him everything he could, and Blaine will finally forgive him.

Because that’s how it was always going to be.