A/N: Please revisit the last chapter of My Soul Can Reach if you would like a refresher as to what's going on. Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this story.

The title for this chapter is from the haunting song This House by Alison Moyet. Thank you for reading!

Chapter One: This House

"Blaine is missing."

The words swept through Kurt like a slow, burning freeze, numbing him as they went and leaving him utterly barren. It was the most terrifying feeling in the world.

"We're still looking, Kurt, we won't give up!" Tina tried to reassure him, sounding not a little desperate.

He looked up at her, registering the pity on her pretty face but unable to bring himself to care. "I'd like to be alone, please," he said with as much politeness as he could muster.

"Kurt…"

"Tina, let's give him some space," Mike suggested, considering Kurt sadly and nodding once before placing a hand on the petite woman's back and guiding her towards the door.

"Your dad…"

"You can send him up when he gets here."

As they left Kurt removed his glove, staring blankly at the name that was permanently etched into his palm and tracing the familiar letters with one finger. He didn't stir until long after the door clicked shut.

Fifteen minutes later, Kurt still sat as if frozen in time. He didn't notice someone entering the room, but startled when a hand closed over his shoulder. Kurt looked up to find Burt standing at his bedside.

"Dad!" he exclaimed, sinking gratefully into his father's arms.

"Kurt!" Burt clutched him tightly. "You had us so worried!"

"Us?"

"Me, Carole, Finn… all of Blaine's friends…"

Kurt tensed at the mention of Blaine but quickly shook it off, pulling back from the embrace. "Who are Carole and Finn?"

It was only then that Kurt realized they were not alone. A woman stood in the doorway. She looked to be about his father's age, maybe a few years younger, with shoulder-length auburn hair and a concerned expression on her face.

"Carole," his father said, gesturing to her. She stepped forward and stopped at Burt's side.

"Hey, Honey," she said, offering Kurt a sad smile as Burt's arm wrapped around her waist.

"She's a nurse, can she take a look at you?"

Kurt nodded, eyes locked on his father's as the woman—Carole—set about poking and prodding him, checking his pulse. "Why do I get the feeling there's more to this than you're telling me?" he asked after a moment.

Carole and Burt exchanged a look that only served to confuse Kurt further before Burt finally spoke. "With all that's happened… maybe it's not the best time, Kurt. You—we should focus on finding Blaine."

"Dad," Kurt said stubbornly, his eyes narrowing slightly at the older man.

But to both their surprise, it was Carole who caved.

"Honey," she started, resting a hand gently on his arm to get his attention. "Your father and I, well… we've bonded."

Whatever Kurt had been expecting to hear, it was certainly not that.

"But… mom was your soulmate!"

"Yes, she was," Burt said patiently. "So is Carole."

"I was a no name," Carole explained, no hint of shame in her voice. "I've had your father's name for years now, but we only just found each other. I guess you could say it was you that brought us together, sweetie." She patted Kurt's arm, a hopeful smile on her face. Kurt resisted the instinct to pull away.

"I know this is sudden, Kurt, but as they say here… you can't fight the Source. I will always love your mother, but I love Carole, too. She's made me very happy these past few days."

Kurt merely nodded, unable to summon the emotional energy to fully process the situation. "Congratulations," he managed weakly. "I'm sorry, it's not you Carole, I just can't…"

"That's alright," Carole said, compassion shining in her eyes. "I understand."

And Kurt knew that she did.

"Finn…" Kurt began, suddenly remembering the other name his father had mentioned.

"Is my son," Carole supplied. "He'd very much like to meet you, when you feel up to it. And…" she paused, looking to Burt, "we'd like to help. In any way we can."

Kurt almost smiled. Given an appropriate amount of time and better circumstances, he thought he might come to like Carole quite a lot.

Carole left shortly after that, but Burt stayed behind with his son. They didn't speak, each lost to their own thoughts, but Kurt clutched at his father's hand as though it were a lifeline. Maybe right now it was.

"You can cry if you need to, Kurt," Burt told him softly after what seemed like hours of morose silence.

Kurt shook his head mulishly. "Why? It won't do any good."

Burt sighed, shuffling closer in his chair to smooth back the hair from his son's face. "You should eat something. We've kept you hydrated, but it's been three days."

"Tomorrow," Kurt said hoarsely, barely responding to his father's touch. "I just want to sleep." I just want Blaine.

"They're going to find him," Burt swore with forced bravado. "We're going to find him; I promise you Kurt."

"Of course we are," Kurt said, forcing more confidence into his voice than he currently felt. "It's late. You should go."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should stay with you; I could—"

"Dad," Kurt cut him off. "There's nothing to be done at the moment. I'll speak to Mike in the morning, and we're going to come up with a plan, and it's going to work. But right now you should go back to Carole."

"If you need me…"

"I know. Thank you, Dad." He squeezed his father's hand, then released it, turning away and sinking under the covers as he listened to Burt's footsteps patter to the door, fading as it softly swung closed.

A knock at his door woke Kurt the next morning, and Mike didn't wait for an answer before entering the tiny room, a neatly arranged breakfast tray in his hands.

"Breakfast, from Tina," he explained, setting it down beside Kurt on the bed even though Kurt had yet to move or acknowledge his presence. Mike took the chair, unfazed by his lack of response. "You need to eat," he said in a tone that brooked no argument, "and we need to talk."

Kurt blinked, frowned but nodded, and sat up a little begrudgingly, reaching for the tray. He would be of no use to Blaine dead. "Thank you," he said quietly, picking at some bacon. "Any news on Blaine? I'm feeling better today, so I should be able to help—"

"No, but that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Mike cut him off. "I don't know what's happened to Blaine; we're still working on that. But I have my theories. You probably aren't going to like them."

Kurt's eyes fell closed as if to shut Mike out, but it was only a moment before he took a deep breath, sat a little straighter, and opened them to stare directly into Mike's. "I'm listening."

"You probably already know why Blaine was in The New World and about his brother's involvement in him getting caught?"

"I know enough."

"Right…" Mike looked like he wanted to say more but was reconsidering, and when he continued, the subject change caught Kurt off guard. "So I'm assuming Blaine told you a little about the barrier, how it works to keep us safe?"

"Of course."

"Did you consider that maybe Blaine wasn't able to get through the barrier?"

Kurt's brow furrowed and his eyes darkened, anger welling up within him before he could stop it. "Are you suggesting that Blaine had some sort of devious intent in bringing us here? He would never keep something like that from me; he would never be capable of something so hateful; Blaine is the kindest—"

"Woah!" Mike held up a hand to stop him. "I know that Blaine would never do anything to hurt you; we were best friends. You don't need to convince me that he's a good person. But that being said—and I mean no disrespect—you have no idea what Blaine is capable of."

Kurt studied him for a moment, lips pressed tight to bite back another retort. As much as it stung, he knew on some level that Mike was right. "What did you mean then?" he asked finally, tone clipped but restrained.

Mike sighed, breaking eye contact for the first time to study his own hands. "I would imagine, knowing what I know of Blaine, that he is feeling very angry and conflicted towards Cooper. Probably far angrier than he's admitted even to himself."

"Angry enough, on some level, to want to hurt him," Kurt supplied.

"I'm not saying that Blaine is prone to violence…"

"It's okay. I don't want to think that, but you're right. You've known him a lot longer than I have." Kurt shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant.

"Hey, I may not have seen you two together, but I don't have to to know that you mean more to Blaine than anything in the world. He loved you long before he knew you. Which is why it pains me to mention my other theory for Blaine's absence…"

Kurt smiled at him feebly. "Shoot."

"Well… I think it's possible that Blaine never intended to come across the barrier with you to begin with."

Kurt gasped. "You think he lied to me?"

"I think that it's possible that your safety meant more to him than honesty. And I know that Blaine was very dedicated to our mission. He may have had some unfinished business—"

"I can't believe that," Kurt interrupted. "But regardless, that doesn't really tell me what I want to know most. Where is Blaine now?"

"Well, if he stayed behind intentionally he could be anywhere in The New World at the moment… but it would mean that he's probably safe."

Small comfort, Kurt thought. But then, small comforts were all he had.

"If he didn't stay back on purpose, and the barrier kept him out… well, he'd have been knocked unconscious, just like you. It took over a day for us to get over there to search, and we didn't find him anywhere, which means…" he paused, looking pained. "I'm sorry Kurt, but if that's the case, the authorities over there probably caught him. They would have gotten to him before we could."

Kurt forced back the dread that was slowly consuming his body, forced out the words. "What would they do to him?"

Mike reached out to take his hand, and Kurt didn't even try to pull away. "They don't take kindly to second offenses, Kurt. What he did was bad, but running away… there's more than one reason there aren't a lot of violent crimes in the world. People don't often begin with violent crimes and… the government doesn't usually let it get that far."

"No," was all Kurt could say, shaking his head and yanking his hand away. "I won't—I can't believe that."

Mike leaned forward, his eyes boring into Kurt's own, heavy with intent. "Then don't believe it. Fight back with the rest of us. The Resistance has been moving towards taking a bigger stand against the prejudice and hatred in The New World for a long time, and we all think this is the perfect opportunity. With your blessing, we'd like to send the cavalry in to look for Blaine… and when we find him, to take a stand once and for all."

"You don't need my blessing," Kurt said resolutely. "I'm going with you. But there's something I want to do first." He hesitated, then added just as firmly, "I want to talk to Cooper."

"Of course," Mike said, his face darkening as Kurt spoke Cooper's name. "You're still a little weak, but build up your strength today and I'll take you tomorrow, first thing. It will take us that long to prepare, at any rate."

He stood and turned to go.

"Mike…" Kurt called out to him. He paused in the doorway. "Thank you. For everything."

Mike nodded, looking back at him with a slight smile. "Rest up now."

When he was gone Kurt sat back, gathering his strength for a moment before turning back to his breakfast, forcing himself to take a real bite. It was too early to feel hope, too much right now to feel anything but the bleakness of the lack of Blaine's presence, the emptiness in this place that was his and the wrongness of being here alone. But tomorrow was a new day and if there was nothing more he could expect from it, it at least held the promise of purpose. Kurt Hummel had never been one to back down from a challenge.