After having checked everything, they had decided to go on the vacation Sue had booked for them after all. They were going to save the money they had spent on theirs and a few bonuses Pam had graced them with for a second honeymoon whenever they felt like it.

They were in Provincetown and had been there for a week. The chalet was theirs for two weeks – which seemed pale in comparison to the girls' month-long honeymoon in the Bahamas, but Blaine figured that both he and Kurt had jobs while Brittany and Santana were just kind of floating through life at the moment, so it wasn't the worst case scenario. The chalet was actually pretty great.

It was Sunday, noon, and Kurt had forced him to sit down while he cooked lunch for them both. Of course, Blaine was having none of it and tried to help, but Kurt had raised a wooden spoon at him and narrowed his eyes, and Blaine reckoned that the safest path would be to perch himself on top of a counter to watch his husband and occasionally join in whatever song he happened to murmur.

Everything was almost done when Kurt offered him a bit of his sauce on the wooden spoon so Blaine could taste it and complain about the lack of salt.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You seriously have to learn to taste the 'alfredo' part of it instead of just the salt."

"Oh, c'mon, Kurt," Blaine pouted. "I know you cut most of the salt off your meals because of your dad's heart attack, but you never brought it back once you weren't cooking for him anymore."

"That's because it's healthier this way, we've had this discussion a hundred times."

"But it's our honeymoon," Blaine jumped to the floor and came up behind Kurt, holding his waist. "I think we can indulge a little."

Once upon a time, this particular conversation topic had been the fuel to some of their many fights in New York, just like every other meaningless little thing. Now, though, they could both tell that it had grown to just playful bickering. Being apart from each other and going through so much heartbreak definitely put things in perspective.

When Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, he could see that his husband was fighting a smile. Smirking, he tickled his sides and forced laughter out of him. Thankfully, no boiling sauce was thrown his way when Kurt convulsed and squirmed, trying to get away. Blaine laughed along and stopped for a moment to squeeze Kurt as hard as he could and kiss his cheek.

"You're crushing me, honey," Kurt managed to say.

"Hmm, I love you," Blaine gave him one last squeeze and another cheek kiss before releasing him, sighing happily. Kurt threw him a smile over his shoulder and turned back to the food. Blaine grinned back like an idiot in love, even after Kurt had turned around. He considered sitting back on the counter, but had a better idea.

He grabbed Kurt by the waist again, turning him to him and pulling him close.

"Is this a plot to seduce me into putting more salt?" Kurt asked, resting his hands on Blaine's biceps, careful of the spoon with dripping sauce.

"Perhaps." He leaned in and pecked his lips, humming.

"Hmm, I might leave the salt shaker on the table if you keep that up."

They started sharing sweet kisses then, slowly gravitating even closer to each other. Kurt dropped the spoon on the counter to run his hands through Blaine's curls, freed of the gel ever since they'd gotten here. Blaine had been happily devouring his lower lip when a phone started ringing in the living room.

"That's yours," Kurt muttered against his lips, recognizing the ringtone.

Blaine ignored it and deepened the kiss, opening Kurt's lips with his tongue after licking each of them. Kurt melted back into him, pulling his face closer and angling their heads so their tongues could dance more freely. Eventually, the phone stopped.

It couldn't have been more than five seconds before it started ringing again. Blaine made a point of tightening his arms around Kurt's waist and letting out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat, clearly intend on ignoring his phone. Kurt, though, managed to pull back a few inches.

"No, come back," Blaine whined, going after his mouth.

Kurt turned his face slightly upwards, so his husband's lips landed on his jaw. Blaine took what he was given and began mouthing up to his ear as Kurt said, "It could be important. They're calling twice."

"It could be Tina complaining about her midterms," he argued, knowing how much Kurt was still sensitive about Tina interrupting them after having done it at least twice – once in Mr. Schue's bomb of a wedding and another time when they had finally gotten back together and were enjoying their afterglow and she wanted Blaine to help her with an important matter such as proposing to Mike.

Kurt had gotten distracted enough by Blaine's mouth doing wonders to his neck and, when he got back to himself, the phone had stopped again. So he shrugged internally and tilted his head to the side to give his husband better access to his skin.

Blaine was cheering in his mind because he had started sucking a hickey and Kurt hadn't pushed him away complaining about how sensitive his skin was when the phone rang again. This time, he sighed and let his head drop on Kurt's shoulder.

"I told everyone not to call me during our honeymoon."

"So it must be important, like I said. Go get it," Kurt pushed on his arm to get him to stand up straight. "I have to finish lunch before you distract me again and everything burns."

Sighing once more, Blaine detangled himself from Kurt's lovely arms and went to retrieve the offending device from the coffee table. He looked at the screen and frowned. It was his boss calling. From his cell phone instead of the phone from his office. On a Sunday. During his honeymoon. Maybe it was important.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Anderson, I am so sorry for interrupting your vacation," Mr. Hemphill's voice filled through his phone. "But this is urgent."

"Oh. Did something happen?"

"I'm afraid so." The man took a deep breath, and Blaine started to feel a bit nervous. He wouldn't be like this if it was something to do with the Warblers' setlist or the new art programs they wanted Blaine to take over as well. "There has been an incident."

Blaine saw with the corner of his eye Kurt coming from the kitchen and bringing plates to the table in the living room before retreating again. This time, it wasn't seeing his husband that made his heart race.

"W-what kind of incident? Is someone hurt?"

"Thankfully, no. We managed to get everyone out in time. But –"

"Out of what?" Blaine started getting restless and paced around the coffee table. He barely noticed Kurt coming back with the cups and cutlery and pausing to look at him, a frown beginning to show on his beautiful face.

Sighing, Mr. Hemphill went straight to the point. "There was a storm last night and lightning struck that huge tree just outside Dalton's main entrance. Everything caught fire and… burned to the ground."

Blaine felt like he was going to be sick. His vision blurred and the air was knocked out of his lungs. Everything was spinning. His legs stopped working. His eyes started burning. His hand almost dropped his phone.

"What?" he whispered.

"As I said," Mr. Hemphill continued, sounding distressed, "we got everyone out. Only the boarding students and some faculty were inside, after all, and nobody got seriously injured. The building, though, and the school are… simply gone."

That's when Blaine felt his legs give out and he found himself on the floor, leaning back against the couch. He didn't see Kurt coming, but suddenly he was next to him, kneeling and grabbing onto his arms.

"But…" Blaine managed to say in a weak voice. "But what…"

"We don't know," Mr. Hemphill confessed. "We are looking for places to transfer the kids as fast as possible, and the Warblers were quite concerned about their show choir status now that they don't have a school."

"Blaine?" Kurt called, and Blaine focused on him for a moment. He took in his scared expression, helpless, and the desperation behind those blue eyes that clearly feared the worst. After all, the last devastating call Kurt had gotten had been about Finn's passing.

Blaine grabbed his hand tightly and broke his gaze as Mr. Hemphill called his attention to check if he was still there.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Everything is a huge mess right now, and I am so sorry for dropping this on you during your honeymoon. I believe your main concern goes to the Warblers' future, and we'll let you handle that as you find suiting. Those kids trust you, and I believe your husband is also a show choir coach?"

"Yes, I-I'll probably talk to him."

"Good. You can take care of everything once you're back, of course, we –"

"No, no, I'm coming today," Blaine found himself saying, propping Kurt to raise his eyebrows, still very much worried. "I can't let them wander aimlessly."

There was a pause. "Well, if you insist, Mr. Anderson. We appreciate it."

"Thank you for calling," he nodded, feeling a tear going down his cheek. He shut his eyes and tried to take a deep, silent breath as his boss said his goodbyes and apologized again before finally hanging up.

The moment the line went dead, his phone slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud bang. The sobs he had been holding in racked his body, and he felt Kurt's arms encircling him and bringing him closer.

"Blaine, who was that? What happened?" Kurt asked a bit impatiently and obviously scared. Blaine forced himself to put the words together to briefly deliver the news so Kurt wouldn't think anybody had died. He broke down afterwards and his husband held him tighter against his chest, kissing the top of his head. "Oh, honey."

Blaine would have admired Kurt's ability to hold himself together if he hadn't been so busy crying his eyes out. He curled into a ball, fisting Kurt's loose T-shirt and burying his face against the fabric. He felt his husband pulling him into his lap to hold him better, and there they stayed for a couple of minutes.

"Kurt, it's all gone," he stammered.

"Shh, just take a deep breath," Kurt kissed his temple and rocked him gently.

"Everything, Kurt. It doesn't exist anymore."

"Blaine, you're shaking. Just focus on breathing for a bit, okay? You're hyperventilating."

So he focused on the movement of Kurt's chest under himself, trying to even his inhales and exhales. It took some time and a few more kisses from Kurt for him to calm down enough so he could breathe normally again. He then stared at nothing in particular, his eyes bloodshot and swollen, and whispered, "Kurt, the staircase."

He felt Kurt tensing under him and was afraid he had broken Kurt's reverie now, but his husband took a shaky breath and rubbed his back comfortingly. "I know," he muttered against his hair, closing his eyes.

"All the common rooms and hallways and all our memories…"

"Our memories won't disappear, Blaine."

Blaine sat up straight and looked at Kurt's eyes. The blue in them was lighter, as it was when Kurt was about to cry. He could see the tears in there, held back for his own sake, and he saw the understanding. Still, he held onto Kurt's shoulders to ground himself, feeling his husband's hands stroking his back more firmly.

"Kurt…" he started, almost breaking down again. "I had plans for our tenth anniversary being there. I also had always dreamed of taking our kids there someday to show them where we first met and to generally show them how amazing Dalton is. Was." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't believe that it's destroyed and gone forever. We have so much history there. It was my safe space after I was bullied, and then I met you and…"

"I know, I know," Kurt's hand caressed his face and he opened his eyes. They didn't speak for a while. They didn't have to. They understood each other. Blaine just fell into Kurt's chest again, snuggling against it in hopes of blocking the rest of the world as muscular arms encircled him.

Eventually, he wiped his tears and sat up once more, exhaling. "I'm gonna go book us a flight back."

"Okay."

Blaine searched Kurt's face for any signs that said he wasn't up to cutting their honeymoon in half to go back to Ohio and deal with the situation. However, all he saw was support and comfort as a hand kept caressing his arm up and down. So he picked himself up and moved to the bedroom, where his laptop was, while Kurt finished putting the food on the table and then forced him to eat before they started packing. It was going to be one hell of a mess for him to take care of, but Kurt was right there holding his hand. They'd find a way.

Not my finest piece, but I'm still mad about how much they didn't deal with this in the episode.