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Boston Police Dept. @Boston_Police CAPTURED!!! The hunt is over. The search is done. The terror is over. And justice has won. Suspect in custody. 8:58 PM - 19 Apr 13

“I love everyone in this bar!”

“Santana, we’re not in a bar, we’re not even indoors, so get down from there!” Kurt was trying unsuccessfully to persuade Santana to come down from the street sign she had climbed, while Blaine was taking in the sights and sounds around him. For the first time in several days the streets of Boston were filled with joyful revelers instead of fear. People had spilled out of their homes and apartments, exchanging high-fives and stopping anyone in a uniform to shake their hand; one woman wrapped her arms around a beefy-looking police officer wearing assault gear to give him a big bear hug. He heard the beginning notes of “Sweet Caroline” floating out into the neighborhood; someone had hauled their speakers out on their porch and blasted out the Fenway Park anthem for all to hear. Friends and strangers alike had their arms around each other, some with drinks in their hand, singing along. Santana and Kurt were among them: “Good times never felt so good! So good! So good! So good!”

Sam had sent Blaine several texts, (whooooooooo!!! Did you hear we got him? The lockdown’s over now! Bring a 12-pack of harpoon ipa! And milk cause we’re out, going to the bar don’t wait up, left Roxy with the neighbor, call your mom). The last one gave Blaine pause. He realized his parents were probably watching the news right now, wondering if he was in the crowd. He took out his phone and waved it to Kurt, mouthing I’ll be right back while pointing to a semi-quiet corner, then retreated to make a call.

“Blaine, hi!” His mom was the first to pick up. “We’re watching on the news right now! Hold on, let me put it on speaker so your father can hear you.”

“Mom, I don’t know if he wants to talk to me right now,” he said, remembering how their last phone call had ended.

“Of course I want to talk to you, Blaine,” he heard his father’s voice say; obviously his mother had already switched to speaker.

Blaine took a humble breath. “Dad, Mom, look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was frustrated and I lashed out, and I apologize.”

“Well we’re sorry too, honey,” his mother said. “I know we can be overbearing sometimes, but we just love you so much. I can’t help it, Blaine. In my head, I know you’re a grown man, but in my heart you’re always going to be my little boy.”

“I’m sorry too,” said his father. “I just wanted you to be safe.”

“I am safe, Dad, in every way that matters,” he said, looking towards Kurt and smiling. “Look, I’m still not coming back to Ohio, at least not until the summer. But I think I understand a little better why you guys want to protect me all the time. I love you guys too, you know; you don’t think I worry about you also?”

“Is that supposed to be a dig at our age? We’re not that old son,” his father laughed.

Blaine laughed along with him, for the first time in a long time. “I know. But you know the Midwest has tornadoes, and blizzards, and GMO corn, and what if you guys get carbon monoxide poisoning or something?”

“Okay son, I think we get your point.”

“Dad, I’m a big boy now. I’m not asking you and Mom not to worry. Just not to hover?”

He heard his mother sigh in defeat. “Okay, I’ll try. I can’t promise anything but I can at least try. Um, eh-hem. Honey, do you have something to say?”
His father stumbled. “Oh, yes, I’m with your mother on this. I’ll try too.”

Blaine smiled into the phone; his smile widened as he felt a pair of arms snake around his waist, Kurt’s face nuzzling the back of his neck. “Thank you Mom and Dad. Just trust me; sometimes the risk is worth the reward.”

“We love you son.”

“Love you too, bye.” He ended the call and leaned back into Kurt’s body, humming contentedly.

“So, your parents?” Kurt asked.

“Yep. I think they might actually give me the weekend off, phone-wise, anyway. Though I won’t be surprised if they suddenly show up on my doorstep.”

Kurt giggled. “Well, Brittany called and she can finally leave MIT, so she’s coming over to see Santana. You want to stay out a little while longer, or head back?”

“I don’t know.” Blaine turned in Kurt’s arms and pressed his lips against Kurt’s mouth. “Hmmmm, what do you want to do?”

Kurt grinned against Blaine. “I think we have a lot of lost time to make up for. We have to cram, oh about three years in a month?”

“Who says we only have a month?” Blaine kissed Kurt’s cheek, then his ear, sucking his earlobe in between his teeth. “You know, Sam texted me. He said he’s going to be out late, which for him usually means until the morning. That means I’ve got the loft all to myself.”

“Lead the way,” Kurt said, his eyes lit up like an aurora.

Blaine took his hand, and they headed back to Kurt’s to grab a few things before taking the train back to the loft. He figured he could pick up his car in the morning; he didn’t want to waste another minute. Blaine wasn’t sure where they would go from there, literally or figuratively, but he was certain of one thing.

Love, no matter what, was always worth the risk.

(next chapter)
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