"Oh, look at this!" Blaine said, bent over an opened trunk tucked in the corner. Kurt came over, taking care not to stand too close. Blaine brushed his hand over the top of the case.

"Looks like a guitar case."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "No, really? I would have never guessed," he retorted sarcastically.

Kurt bumped their shoulders together. "Open it."

"Are you su-"

"Oh my god, you know Delia won't care, just open it."

Reverently, Blaine lifted it out of the trunk, ignoring the other things that had been stuffed around the case. Kurt closed the lid and Blaine laid it on top, snapping open the buckles and opening the case. Inside was a polished acoustic guitar.

"Wow, this is beautiful." He ran a finger down the neck and body, gleaming in the sunlight streaming from the window. "This is... Wow."

"What?"

Blaine looked up; once again their faces were extremely close. He cleared his throat, straightening and taking a half step back. "This is a really good guitar. Where did she get it, do you know?"

Kurt shrugged. "No clue. Let's take it downstairs and go ask her."

Upon inspection, Delia told them she had no idea where the guitar had come from and if Blaine wanted to play it, he was free to. He spent the rest of the afternoon tuning it and when everyone went down to the beach where Burt was grilling hot dogs and hamburgers, Blaine took it with him. He strummed it idly as Burt flipped food and Carole set up things at the table that had been brought out while Jen and Finn chased Sophie around in the shallow part of the ocean. He spotted Kurt several yards away, walking down the beach with Delia a few feet behind him, slowly following. His fingers automatically started plucking out a familiar tune from his youth.

Before I met you
I was all right
But things were kinda heavy
You brought me to life
Now every February
You'll be my valentine

Kurt walked until he could barely hear Blaine playing the guitar, the lyrics indecipherable in the distance, before flopping onto the sand. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his hands, watching the waves crash on the shore.

They hadn't talked about it.

The walk to the house had been slightly awkward after their almost kiss and this morning, as if by some unspoken agreement, they acted like nothing had happened. They needed to, they probably should have last night, but neither was sure how to start. More than once he had caught Blaine opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again in frustration before any words escaped.

He hadn't gotten very far in his thoughts before he felt the ground shift beside him as Delia sat down.

"Hey, you." She bumped their shoulders together.

Kurt gave her a small smile. "Hey yourself."

"So..."

"So?"

"So how long have you and Blaine been together?"

"What?" Kurt yelped, his elbows buckling in shock, almost making him fall back.

Delia leaned back, mimicking his position, and turned her head to look at him. "What, you think we wouldn't figure it out?"

"Figure what out?" He could feel his face heating up under his aunt's scrutiny and was so glad it was dark.

"That you and Blaine are together."

When Kurt just sputtered, unable to articulate, Delia's eyebrows furrowed. "Please tell me you're at least tapping that."

"Aunt Delia!" he yelled before remembering how noise carries down the beach. "I'm not 'tapping that' and Blaine and I are not together," he continued, lowering his voice back to a reasonable level. "He is my employee, even if he doesn't work in the office, and I treat him in such a manner."

Delia snorted. "Really, that's what you're going with? I've seen the way the two of you look at each other, Kurt. You two have been practically eye fucking all week. And I'm not the only one who's noticed; your dad and Carole have both mentioned it to me."

"I don't- we aren't- this-" Kurt stuttered, not knowing what to say. He knew that he stared at Blaine sometimes when the other man isn't looking, before the almost-kiss even, but if what Delia's saying is true... He takes a deep breath. "We almost kissed last night," he confessed.

"Why almost?"

Kurt shrugged. "He pulled back after someone slammed a door. It was a mistake, just a silly, stupid mistake."

Delia made a noise and he turned to find her shaking her head. "What?"

"Oh, honey, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what, Aunt Delia?" He was getting frustrated. It felt like something was being kept from him, some great secret, and if the pitying look on Delia's face meant anything...

"Baby, that boy is crazy about you. Maybe you don't see it because you're too busy trying to hide behind those walls you built up after-" She cleared her throat before continuing. "You might not see it but we do. And you, well, I can't remember the last time I saw you this happy. Actually, I can, it was the year you two came here right before Sophie was born. Since then, you've been so sad and heartbroken and I don't think you ever let yourself recover, not fully. You jumped right into raising Sophie and never taking time for yourself." She reached over, smoothing his hair down and cupping his cheek gently. "But this year, you seem so much happier and don't try to say it's just because you got the magazine back up and running because I know it's so much more than that. I see the look in your eyes when you don't think anyone is looking. You're half in love with him and he is with you."

Kurt shook his head even as he leaned into her hand. "I don't know what to do, Aunt Delia. Blaine has become such a good friend to me and I really care about him. He's amazing with Sophie and Finn and Jen just adore him and he gets along great with everyone and he plays all these instruments and he can sing and he seems damn near perfect and I really like him. But..." He trailed off, turning away, his shoulders hunched as he brought his legs up and circled his knees with his arms.

"But what, baby?"

Kurt shrugged, blinking back the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. They sat there for several minutes, the only sounds coming from the pounding of the surf and the vague notes plucked out on Blaine's borrowed guitar. Eventually, Delia stood, brushing off the seat of her pants. "You have to open your heart again if you want to be happy. I know it hurts, but it hurts more in the long run if you don't allow yourself to really be with someone. And I don't think Blaine would mind being the person you let in."

She clasped his shoulder briefly before heading back to their little party, joining in with the singing when she got close enough and leaving Kurt in the sand, thinking about everything.

The next day was loud, everyone wanting to do something one last time before they left Saturday morning. They walked around town and visited the small petting zoo on the main land and swam in the ocean until Delia called them back to the house for one last meal of barbeque.

They spent part of the night gathering their things and packing them away so they wouldn't be rushed in the morning and by ten everyone was exhausted, passing out as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

Except Blaine, who, in keeping with the theme of the week, was unable to fall asleep. Much as he had done two nights prior, he shucked his pyjamas off and headed down to the ocean, diving beneath the waves. He was as conflicted as ever and when swimming did nothing but make him think of Kurt, he headed back to the shore, walking the extra quarter mile down the beach to use a different shower than the one he and Kurt had used.

Back in the house, he sat in his borrowed room propped up against the headboard. His thoughts fluttered about, thinking of Kurt and Sophie and Kurt's family and Kurt and the songs he was composing about Kurt and Sophie. He had been adding bits and pieces to the small notebook that he brought with him for just such a reason but he hadn't added anything in the past couple of days. Not since...

He sighed, running a hand through his damp curls and cursing insomnia. It led to too much time for him to think and since he wasn't home, he couldn't calm his nerves with music. His fingers practically itched to slide along strings as he pulled a bow across them or to press ivory and black keys and allow soothing melodies come from a piano. He considered going to down to play Delia's but everyone was asleep. Instead, he grabbed his notebook, staring at the page where he had added bits to Kurt's song. Notes began forming in his mind as he thought about the piece and before he knew it, his hand was flying over the page, adding more lines as he hummed.

888

The return trip went off fairly easily, with many hugs and a few tears and promises to see each other for Thanksgiving and then they were off, driving the five hours it took to get back to Raleigh. Blaine stared out the window until the ocean disappeared. Sure, they were relatively close to the ocean, but it wasn't the same, not really. This ocean held memories of Kurt.

They made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, eating a late lunch at a restaurant before their flights boarded. They all hugged, Blaine getting dragged into the group by a bright-eyed Carole. She asked if he was going to be joining them for Thanksgiving and he sputtered for a moment before telling her that he regrettably wouldn't because his brother would be coming in from out of state. She nodded in understanding before giving him one last hug and passing him off to Burt, who patted his shoulder and thanked him for all the help he's given Kurt.

And then they were gone and it was time to return to New York.

888

Kurt avoiding being close to Blaine when they returned. They still went about their routine, coffee in the mornings and lunch twice a week with Sophie at Kurt's office. But Kurt always made sure to stand a little further away, to make sure they didn't touch when they sat next to each other on the couch. It was somewhat difficult because Blaine was already an affectionate person and Kurt hated the distance, hated the look Blaine would cast his way when he though Kurt wouldn't see.

His brain was stuck on repeat, everything Delia told him coming back with startling clarity. He had yet to see any 'looks' from Blaine except the sadness every time Kurt moved away. He couldn't bring himself to look in Blaine's eyes long enough to explore what was there.

If he were to tell himself the truth, it was because he was scared.

It was nearly a month later and he was still thinking about it as Sophie's birthday came around. It fell on a Wednesday and Kurt wanted to put up the decorations the night before so they wouldn't have to do in a rush the next day and "so I can help you put up the high stuff, shorty."

As the night passed, Kurt grew quieter and quieter until he finally stopped talking completely. Blaine, unsure of what to do, rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. The headache that had been a low throb in the back of his skull all day was rearing its ugly head. "Well, uh, I guess I'll be going then."

Kurt nodded, his dull eyes trained on the coffee table. He raised his legs up, curling his arms around them and resting his chin on his knees. Blaine watched him for a moment, debating on whether Kurt would mind him comforting him. He could tell that Kurt had been pulling away from him every since that night and he didn't know how to proceed.

In the end, his gentlemanly ways won out and he moved to go sit next to Kurt, keeping a small distance, and clasping his hands in front of him. "What's wrong?"

Kurt shrugged, his face hidden in his knees. Blaine sat there, not talking, waiting for Kurt to give him some sign as to what he wanted Blaine to do.

"It'll be two years tomorrow since she died." He said it so quietly that Blaine could barely hear him. "Two years since I got Sophie and lost my best friend."

Blaine finally realized what Kurt meant. "You don't have-"

Kurt cut him off with a shake of his head. "I'm supposed to talk about it, to help bleed off some of the pain. That's, that's what the therapist said." He took a deep breath. "Her name was Jordan and she was my best friend. We did almost everything together. She was from a small town in Georgia and she sat next to me during freshman orientation at NYU. I had forgotten to bring a pen and asked her if I could borrow one." He allowed a small smile to play over his lips. "She was a journalism major and always carried at least half a dozen pens and pencils with her, more often than not shoved into her ponytail. We bonded over a shared love of peanut butter and pickles and growing up in a small town. She accepted my being gay and I didn't make fun of her country accent TOO much. If I were straight, I would have married her."

He finally looked at Blaine for a long minute. "You remind me of her, you know. Obviously not in looks; you've seen the photo in Sophie's room, above her bed. But you carry yourself the same way and she was always so sweet and giving to everybody. There to help anyone who needed her at the drop of a hat." Kurt chuckled wetly, unsurprised to find tears falling slowly down his cheeks. "I remember this one time, I got really drunk and ended up in New Jersey, for the life of me, I STILL don't know how, and she took a cab out there at three in the morning to come get me, even though she had an early morning class. I was too drunk to find a train station and I didn't know any numbers for cab companies out there or anything."

He finally placed his feet on the floor, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared in the distance, reliving the painfully happy memories. "She helped me start What's Next. We started it our last year of college together and once it was up and off the ground, we realized we both wanted more. We tried dating people but it was hard because we were both dedicated to our jobs and most guys couldn't handle it. Not to mention the two of us were practically inseparable. For a few years, we shared a tiny one bedroom apartment and slept in the same bed and shared everything with each other and most potential partners weren't comfortable with that. We'd even kiss each other goodbye and stuff, just friendly pecks and we were constantly hugging and touching. We were basically that old married couple that never has sex but still cares deeply for each other.

"We wanted a family and dating wasn't working out, so we decided to start one together. After getting the magazine together, we knew we could do it. Her parents didn't approve." At the angry look that flashed across Blaine's face, he hurried to explained, "They're heavily religious and once they realized that Jordan wasn't just going to drop me, they made an effort to get to know me. So it wasn't me being gay that they had a problem with, it was their daughter having a child out of wedlock. But Jordan managed to talk them around somewhat." He smiled fondly, wiping at his eyes. "She had a way with words and that was one of the reasons she made an excellent journalist.

"So we did in-vitro and then we were pregnant and everything seemed perfect. She had an awesome pregnancy, no problems, and we were on the fast track to having our very own bouncy baby girl. I remember the first time Sophie kicked and Jordan rushed over from her office across the hall. It was amazing, feeling those strong thuds against my hand and sharing that moment with Jordan. I always thought it was corny when people would say that pregnant women glow, but Jordan seemed radiant, like she gave off this inner light that just made everyone around her happy."

Kurt paused, taking a deep breath and twisting his hands in his lap. "Two years ago, we had almost arrived at the hospital by this time. Even though she was hurting, Jordan still smiled and thanked the cab driver for dropping us off. The contractions were close enough together that it was time for us to get into a room and get ready. We were there for a couple of hours when Jordan started crying and her face went really pale. All of these machines they had her hooked up to started beeping like crazy. I didn't know what was happening and then a bunch of doctors and nurses ran in and pushed me out of the room. I started panicking when they wheeled her out of the room and rushed past me. I could hear someone talking over the intercom but I couldn't make out the words and no one would tell me anything. My dad can give you more details about what happened exactly; I was too out of my mind with worry to pay attention then and afterwards, I didn't want to know."

He took a deep, shuddering breath, his voice thick. "Sophia Louise Hummel was born at 1:14 a.m. Her mother, Jordan Louise Hepner, died at 1:21 a.m. after several attempts to bring her back. They said she hemorrhaged and bled out. There's more to it, obviously, but like I said, I don't want to know."

Blaine sat there in shock. Here it was, the truth about Sophie's mother and the reason Kurt was so reluctant to talk about her. They had been so close for so long and then she died while giving birth to their daughter. It must have hurt Kurt so much, to be given such joy after the horror he went through in high school (based off of the stories Finn had told him), only to have it ripped away from him. He pulled the sobbing man into his arms, rocking him gently as tears prickled in his eyes.

How hard it must have been for him, raising a child by himself who looked exactly like the person he had lost.

"Her family, the ones who never accepted me, blames me for Jordan's death. They say my being gay and her carrying my demon spawn is what caused her death. Sometimes I think her parents believe it too, when the pain gets to be too much, but we still have a strong relationship and they see Sophie often." Kurt clung tighter to the back of Blaine's shirt as he let out another soft sob. "But it hurt, being down there, surrounded by all of them with my week old daughter, attending my best friends funeral and hearing them say such hateful things. I kept waiting for Jordan to come around the corner and scold them for being rude but she obviously didn't. I miss her so much."

Blaine didn't say anything, though anger boiled his veins, just continued holding Kurt and letting him cry on his shoulder until the sobs subsided. Only when Kurt had calmed down did he say, "There's nothing wrong with you." Kurt pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look Blaine in the face. He cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over the tear tracks there. "Jordan didn't die because you're gay; she died because something happened when she was in labor. Those people are idiots if they can't look beyond their hate to see what an amazing man you are. I'm sorry that you lost Jordan, but I know she would be proud of how well you've raised Sophie."

Kurt chose that moment to look Blaine in the eyes. Delia's words forced him to finally face up to his fears and in them, Kurt saw affection, sadness, longing and...

"Oh," he breathed. Blaine barely had a chance to furrow his brows in question before Kurt's soft lips touched his.