The trees that edge the park still have their vast green canopies of foliage. Occasional amber leaves dot the branches, and there are a few wayward examples sprinkled on the ground, but Fall came late, and Mother Nature is just catching up. Beneath the stretching branches, a small boy sits on a red checkered picnic blanket, watching the chaos unfold.

Children run around on the soft grass, the girls shrieking and running as far away as possible from the boys who are taking aim with their pretend lasers (sound effects and all). What began as an energetic game of tag, had quickly turned into intergalactic warfare and the adults supervising the game try hard to bring the activity back under control.

One of them walks over to the solitary child on the blanket. "Blaine, don't you want to join in the fun with your friends?" Emma encourages. Blaine's costume isn't entirely practical for tag, but she knows that's not the reason for his hesitancy. 

"No," he replies as a matter-of-fact, stroking the dark fur of his costume and liking the feel of it beneath his fingers. He's not annoyed or bothered or sad; the game is just too rowdy for him. In the swarming group of fairies, superheroes, princesses and cowboys, this quiet boy in his lion costume is the odd one out. Blaine quietly observes the Halloween festivities that are keeping his classmates amused as he waits for his best friend to arrive. When he does, Blaine will join in, but until that moment, he's content to sit and wait. 

"It won't be long. They'll be here soon," Emma says, though she's not entirely sure if it's true. Blaine's face lights up with a huge smile at that news, and for that reward alone Emma feels justified in having said it. 

As if on cue, a blue Toyota familiar to both of them pulls into a space on the edge of the park. Blaine is up in seconds, bouncing excitedly on the spot in anticipation. "Wait here, Blaine," Emma instructs, not wanting him to rush toward the street. As switched on as he seems to be, three year olds aren't really known for their road sense. They watched as Kurt's mother helped her son out of the car, lifting him from his safety seat and setting him onto the grassy bank in one swift swinging movement that brought giggles from the boy's lips.

Kurt saw Blaine immediately and ran across the green expanse as fast as his small legs and awkward giraffe costume would allow. Blaine comes alive the minute he's with Kurt. He greets his friend with an all encompassing hug, the kind his own Mom gives him right before bed time. He takes Kurt's hand and leads him beneath an enormous Elm where he picks up leaves the color of Kurt's bright golden hair. He gives Kurt the brightest, most perfect examples to keep, and Kurt holds them dearly. Each one is a treasure of unfathomable value.

From the moment Blaine started at Findlay Playgroup, it had been this way between them. Blaine had made a beeline to Kurt and shadowed him the whole session. The following week they were inseparable. Soul mates was not a term that Emma generally applied to children, but with these two it seemed to fit.

Mrs. Hummel is happy to see Kurt so enthralled. It will make the afternoon all the more easier. "Emma," she addresses the Play Leader. "Is it OK if I don't stay today? I really need to finish packing this afternoon."

"Sure. We'll be through at three. You can pick him up then." 

"Thank you! You're a huge help." With a warm wave goodbye she walked back to the car, taking a moment to glance at her confident happy boy, who no longer fretted the moment she was out of sight. He'd really blossomed in recent months, and she was grateful for the little boy with dark, curly hair who'd finally broken through Kurt's shy exterior. She watched a second as Kurt and Blaine walked hand in hand, seemingly in their own world, still picking up the golden leaves littered on the ground. There would be no place for this collection in the moving boxes, and later it would be a mother's job to quietly dispose of the leaves in the garden as Kurt slept in their Findlay home for the last time.

~

Kurt and Blaine eventually leave their quest for the perfect leaf and join their classmates in the hunt for candy amongst the trees. They divide their bounty with every precious find and Kurt gives Blaine all of the candy corn, because he knows they're his favorite. 

When the picnic is set out, they carefully fill one plate with their favorite foods and sit together, oblivious to everyone around them as they share the delicious morsels. Blaine splits an Oreo and gives Kurt the half with the filling.

As the afternoon unfolds, Emma observes the proceedings through a camera lens, making concerted efforts to capture precious moments to be shared with the parents. Later, when she looks over her shots, she will settle on the same picture to give to both the Hummels and the Andersons. Both faces glow with happiness and confidence. The connection is palpable and it's more than the just the tight grip they have on each other's hand. It saddens Emma when she eventually posts the printed product - one to Columbus, the other to Lima. 

Thankfully though, children live in the now, and they're both young enough to eventually forget what it is they're missing.

~

The first week after Kurt's departure is difficult. Blaine comes to playgroup but is so withdrawn and lost that Emma suggests he draw a picture of his friend. He concentrates on his choice of colors and his control of the chubby markers and he's happy with the result. He takes it home and his mother tapes it to the window where it stays for two more weeks, colors fading in the sun and the cheap paper quickly becoming yellowed and brittle. When the moving boxes are packed, Blaine's masterpiece never makes it to their new home in the state's capital.

A week after Thanksgiving, Blaine waits by the mailbox. The air is cold and the grass damp, but he puts on his coat and stands out there for almost an hour waiting for the mailman to arrive. When he comes, Blaine gives him a bright green, hand-made envelope with Kurt's name on the front. To his three year old mind, that's what it says, but to the mailman, it's a few randomly placed squiggles. Still, he promises the boy with shining gold eyes that he'll deliver the letter to his friend. It made it as far as the depot.

By Christmas, Blaine grows accustomed to the changes in his life and he is introduced to new friends as his Mom becomes acquainted with other mothers in their neighborhood. By day he molds Play-Doh, builds cities of blocks and has tea parties with his new friends. At night he snuggles with a new plush giraffe that he chose and made at Build-A-Bear. 

By Blaine's fourth birthday, he doesn't remember Kurt's name, but his ability to fall asleep is dependent on a toy named Giraffe. It's two more years before Blaine will go a night without him. By then he's in school, dressed in a miniature blazer and collared white shirt, and sleeping with fluffy animals is not what boys his age do.

~

Eventually children grow up. 

They leave home and make their own way in the world. They find new horizons, inspiration, love and fulfillment. They set their own roots, leaving behind the home of their youth, the memories of childhood and boxes and boxes of associated artifacts. 

Burt and Carole were ready to start a new chapter of their lives, too. They'd talked about downsizing for years, and a combination of the perfect condo and a cashed-up buyer had swiftly ended all procrastination and it was finally happening. 

This is how Blaine found himself in the attic of the Hummel house, sorting dusty boxes and holding his husband's metaphorical hand as he sifted through memories that hadn't been touched in decades. They had to be ruthless; there really wasn't the room for anything more in their cramped, two bedroom apartment. 

They'd successfully condensed six boxes of keepsakes down to one, a task made easier by Kurt's wonderful mother who clearly had a passion for scrapbooking. Everything from Kurt's first seven years had been crammed into a fifty page album, the likes of which Blaine had never seen. Kurt's eyes welled when he found it and took a quick peek at the first pages. Kurt had often said the memories of his mother were gradually fading, despite his best efforts to keep them safe. One look at the scrapbook told Blaine that by just looking over the pages and reading her neat cursive writing, you could acquaint yourself with the woman that had shaped Kurt's life.

"Shall we call it a night?" Blaine asked as he grabbed the packing tape to seal the box.

"Sure, but can we take this downstairs with us?" Kurt replied, clutching at the scrapbook protectively.

Blaine smiled and nodded. There was nothing he wanted more than to sit down with Mrs. Hummel and learn all about her baby son.

~

The gravity of the occasion hit them as they climbed into bed. It was their last night in this house, this room, this bed. Their relationship had developed within these walls, and their passion had been awakened on the soft springiness of that very mattress. They'd take the single box of memories back to New York in the morning and by next week another family would call this home.

Kurt smoothed the duvet over their legs and placed the scrapbook on his lap. He opened the first page to find baby photos taken moments after Kurt's birth. His Mom smiles, but her eyes are tired, and Burt looks so very young and very proud as he stands behind his wife and son. The details of Kurt's birth are printed neatly, along with a little note about waking at 2am with contractions and the 17 hour labor that eventually brought Kurt into the world. 

Page after page captures Kurt's firsts - steps, tooth, Christmas and Birthday. The firsts make way for tales and pictures of Kurt as a toddler and it's when they get to Kurt's third birthday photos that Blaine realizes something. "You lived in Findlay?" 

"For a couple of years. Before Dad bought the shop."

Kurt's revelation passes without comment because the next page shocks Blaine to his core. He sees a photo of himself, dressed for Halloween in his lion costume. He's not seen that photo before and he wonders where it was taken, but he has photos taken the same evening when his Mom took him trick or treating down their street. He takes in the delighted smile on his 3 year old face and sees the jubilance reflected in Kurt's smile, too. But what strikes Blaine most is their clasped hands… holding so tightly they never wanted to let go. 

Blaine gasped and a tear slid down his cheek. Kurt's mother had placed that picture there. She couldn't have known what the future would hold, but she knew that the lion boy was special enough to hold a place in Kurt's scrapbook.

Kurt looks at Blaine in confusion. "What? I happen to think I made a very cute giraffe!"

"And I made a very cute lion." Blaine replied. 

Kurt studied the picture closely and recognition washed over him. The endearing squint accompanying the laughter on the boy's lips was uniquely Blaine. "You did," he smiled, then shut the book and pulled Blaine close within his arms. 

"Your hair was gold. Like the leaves of fall," Blaine whispers into Kurt's ear as an unusual melancholy settles over him.

Kurt kisses the spot where the tear is drying on Blaine's cheek, then they snuggle down beneath the covers together and fall asleep in a comforting embrace. They never will remember their time together in Findlay, and it makes them both a little sad to think they can't recall the joy they can see in their young faces. 

The next morning Blaine returns to the attic and takes all six boxes to their car. When Kurt sees the loaded trunk he'll look at Blaine as if he's insane, but he'll understand. Memories are too precious to ever be left behind.