Lou had brought some extra clothes and bathroom necessities down from her own house, an indicator she had lots of unexpected guests stay there on a regular basis. Kurt careens into the bathroom, throws up into the toilet, and leans his head on the porcelain bowl. Blaine had begged to go back inside because his back hurt. He collapses onto the floor and cries. Dr. Fox will have to wait.

The hematoma sticks out like a bottle of glitter in his mind. Kurt can see it every time he closes his eyes. It’s hideous and spans over Blaine’s entire lower back. There are thick, rigid scars covering Blaine’s skin. Kurt feels sick whenever he sees belt buckles now. There are none in his closet at the clinic. He had yanked his beloved belts off the designated rack after he learned how Blaine had gotten those terrible scars. If Blaine saw them one day when he was looking for something else in there, a simple belt might trigger a flashback.

It’s a horrible experience, watching Blaine twitch and moan whenever he slips into the past at the drop of a hat. Kurt always sees pain carved into Blaine’s face. The muscle spasms are prevalent. Blaine is always worn out and moody after he experiences vivid hallucinations. It’s hard to see the man he loves in pain. Kurt wishes Blaine were strong enough to fight the memories, because Kurt can’t understand why Blaine’s mind wants to go back there. Surely it would be easier to simply forget the last eight years rather than remember them in such graphic detail.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is complicated. He gets it, but it doesn’t make Blaine’s fragile mental state any easier to deal with. The tile is cold. Kurt reluctantly climbs onto his feet and splashes warm water onto his red, blotchy face. It’s useless pretending to be anything other than upset. Dr. Fox is probably expecting him to be a blubbering mess and Wes has certainly seen him cry many times over. Kurt distinctly remembers drinking excessively in New York City, stumbling back to Wes’ tiny studio apartment, and sobbing uncontrollably in his arms until he fell asleep.

Missing Blaine had physically hurt. Kurt sighs, knowing it’s nothing remotely close to what Blaine went through. He would be lying if he tried telling Blaine that he had never enjoyed having sex with Dave. The first few times they had slept together was slightly unpleasant. Kurt had done it to feel closer to Blaine, wrongly believing that letting Dave touch him when he wasn’t that into sex was, in a misguided way, bringing him closer to his missing boyfriend.

It didn’t take long before Dave figured out how to please Kurt. His ex-husband cared about Kurt’s pleasure first. Dave had always ensured Kurt enjoyed their intimacy. He didn’t exactly love Dave, but he definitely liked his company and friendship. Once Kurt had felt more comfortable about having sex with someone other than Blaine, he liked sharing a bed with Dave.
Blaine had been repeatedly raped, beaten, drugged, and practically starved for years. Kurt should have tried harder to find him. Done something more. His Dad should have let him keep his car. Kurt dwells on some of the tips and leads he had all those years ago and wonders if he could have found Blaine sooner by following their trails just a little further.

Now he just feels guilty for using Dave to get closer to someone else. Blaine had been so alone and in pain throughout Kurt’s shiny, pampered married life in California. Dave spoiled him rotten, gave him everything he could ever want or need. Kurt didn’t exactly mind the attention or affection. It wasn’t anything close to the deep, profound love he had for Blaine. He searched for Blaine between shopping trips, hair appointments, coffee dates, parties, and football games. Dave’s schedule kept them both busy. Kurt couldn’t search for Blaine while he was with his husband. Dave had known Kurt would leave when he finally found Blaine, but he couldn’t exactly confess his real motives behind the marriage.

The truth is too cold, even for Kurt. He could never hurt Dave that badly. It wasn’t fair to Dave. Kurt is a terrible person, using Dave for the slightest chance to find Blaine. The divorce has gone smoothly. Dave is understanding about it, has kept Blaine’s whereabouts secret, and has dumped large sums of money into Kurt’s bank account. He doesn’t really want it. Santana is footing the very large bill for Blaine’s therapy and their long stay at the clinic.

Blaine has never even asked anyone how much it costs to live at the private hospital, because he simply does what everyone tells him to. Kurt is starting to see some flickers of resistance in Blaine’s troubled eyes. They are few and far between. The brief, frantic looks of dissent are usually only present around his nutritionist. Dr. Hall carefully monitors Blaine’s diet and adjusts it according to his patient’s needs. Sometimes, when he denies a request (and what legitimate nutritionist would say yes to chocolate cake every day of the week?), or gives Blaine a new list of things he can add to his diet.

Those short, disappointed looks will dissipate into a passive mask. It’s heartbreaking. Dr. Hall has allotted Blaine one cookie after each meal and a small snack if he wants. Kurt keeps a secret, very full stash of junk food in their room. The bags in his pockets are constantly refilled. Whenever Blaine wants one, he gets one. Kurt doesn’t care what Dr. Hall says. The greying, bearded nutritionist isn’t the one who has to listen to Blaine order pizza and beer in his sleep every night. Kurt looks the other way when Wilma sneaks Blaine cake, pizza, and whatever other unhealthy foods Blaine desires into their room. For some inexplicable reason the redhead loves them and is always around.

Kurt still ensures that Blaine eats well and maintains high intakes of healthy items, but he ignores the extremely strict guidelines. When he was younger he would have readily complied with Dr. Hall’s orders. Blaine wasn’t Burt. A heart attack was a far cry from low calorie diets. Kurt loves the delighted, thrilled look on Blaine’s face when he gets away with eating unhealthy food.

Blaine constantly wants sweets, so Kurt makes sure he gets them. The treats he buys are all organic and contain better ingredients than typical junk food in the grocery stores. In the long run, he just wants Blaine to be happy, and this is something he can actually contribute to.

Dr. Hall has absolutely no idea what’s going on behind his back. Kurt intends to keep it that way. Dr. Fox probably knows, since Blaine tends to spill everything to the woman, but she hasn’t exactly gone screaming to Dr. Hall, so she probably understands her patient’s mean sweet tooth. Kurt thinks she stays silent because she wants to get on his good side. She’s not at all different from Dr. Waters. He had trusted her too, only to be burned by blind faith in her objectiveness.

Those long, painful weeks of therapy had nearly destroyed him. Dr. Waters dug her nails into Kurt’s skin until she drew blood. Kurt almost gave up his search, and he would have, if it weren’t for Luke and Debbie. They reignited his fire. The need to find Blaine versus letting him go as so many others had done. Kurt loves him, always has, and being with Blaine again is all he ever really wanted.

The tears stop flowing from his eyes as he reaches into his multi-colored tote bag. Kurt’s fingers brush against a round, familiar container. The strong scents of pineapple, peppermint, and lavender oil fill his nostrils. It’s supposed to help heal skin. Blaine had fallen asleep before Kurt could rub it into his back. Dr. Fox and Wes will have to wait until he’s finished. This is more important than anything else. It helps soothe Blaine’s discomfort. Kurt needs to complete their nightly routine. Blaine is always grateful and relaxed in the mornings, except for the nights when he has nightmares.

He pads back to the bed with warm washcloths and the homemade remedy in his hands. The oak nightstand is small. It takes some careful organization to fit the necessary supplies onto the table. Kurt keeps the light on as he gently lifts Blaine’s red t-shirt up. His stomach curls angrily as he spots the permanently damaged skin. The hematoma itself has technically healed, but Blaine’s skin will always be this terrible purple color. It’s a common side effect of a hematoma.

The ointment is slick and smooth on Kurt’s hands. Blaine stirs briefly in his sleep, smiling at the sensation, though he does not wake. Kurt’s voice is hoarse and unpracticed as he sings Your Song to Blaine. It doesn’t matter if Blaine is asleep. Kurt knows Blaine likes it. Singing to him is far better than holding him when he is pleading for something Kurt can’t give.

“Sir, can we please go inside?” Blaine’s pleading haunts Kurt. “My back hurts.”

The words repeat in an endless loop, as they have since they had left Blaine’s mouth. He wonders how long Evan had left Blaine outside. It’s a dangerous train of thought, because soon he’ll be imagining that damn room and all of Blaine’s drawings. The sketch book is one of Dr. Fox’s ideas. It’s supposed to help Blaine sort his memories, his feelings, and hopes for the future. There are tons of drawings inside, ones depicting horrible things from the last eight years. Kurt has personally seen what that room was like. Small, cramped, and stuffy, if the sketches are anything to go by.

Blaine mumbles happily in his sleep. “Kurt, let’s order some Chinese take-out.”

He’s still beautiful. Kurt loves him fiercely. Blaine is nothing like the boy he used to be, but it’s something he can handle. Kurt has changed since high school too. They never got a chance to explore their relationship as they continued to mature. Kurt plans on staying by Blaine’s side for as long as he will let him.

They have each other. It’s all that matters in the long run. Blaine had kissed him tonight. It felt just like their first kiss had all those years ago, when they were young and still na�ve. Kurt’s heart swells and he soaks in Blaine’s beauty. His dark curls are long. They feel like silk threading through Kurt’s fingers. He’s lucky, having a second chance with Blaine. The support group had taught him that much. There were people there every week, crying because their loved one’s body had been found in a ditch or stuffed inside a dumpster. Blaine is here. They have plenty of time to rebuild their lives together.

Kurt smiles as he finishes smoothing out the ointment and gently kisses Blaine’s forehead. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

The other man sleeps soundly, blissfully unaware of Kurt slipping out of the room. Dr. Fox is waiting for him downstairs in the kitchen. Wes is sitting at the table, running his hands through his hair and attempting to hide his erection from Kurt. Dr. Fox keeps her face completely neutral, but the clenched expression on Wes’ face tells Kurt exactly what was going on down the hall minutes earlier.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt figures it’s better for everyone if he just cuts to the chase. “What’s so important that you’re letting Blaine sleep before he tells you all of his feelings?”

“It’s your father.” Dr. Fox offers him a small, understanding smile. “He was mugged in Portland last night.”
“What?” Kurt winces at how loud he sounds. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine.” Dr. Fox pats her cellphone. “I just spoke to Finn. Your ex-husband is with him, and apparently, the doctors have already released your father.”

The thoughtful, puzzled frown chills him to the core. Dr. Fox places one of her bony hands on his shoulder. “Kurt, I think you should talk to Finn, or maybe your Ex.”

“Why?” Kurt’s lip trembles unintentionally. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it? My Dad hires a private investigator in order to find me, and he’s mugged a day later? They’re looking for Blaine, aren’t they?”

Dr. Fox nods. Wes cuts in before she can answer. “Technically, it’s a carjacking, Kurt. Two men stole his rental car while he stopped to get gas. Burt came out of the store and they jumped him, took his wallet, keys, and then got into the car.”
Wes pauses for a long, tense moment. “One of the men matches the description of Michael Anderson.”

“No.” Blaine’s strangled cry surprises all of them. He’s standing at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot and disheveled. “Please, don’t make me go back to Evan.”
Blaine collapses onto the floor, burying his head against his knees. Kurt launches his body across the room and gathers Blaine into a hug. “No one’s making you go back there, Blaine.”

“Evan?” Dr. Fox gets down on her knees and crawls over to them. “Is that his name?”
“Evan White.” Blaine finally whispers aloud, hiding his face in Kurt’s shirt. “Evan White.”
“The actor?” Wes frowns in horror. “The guy from Hooded Men?”

Blaine cries harder. Kurt barely notices his own tears. Dr. Fox looks stricken. He wonders if she feels as shocked and disgusted as he did when Blaine had revealed his employer’s name in those fucking drawings and hid it under his pillow. Wes slowly approaches them and hooks an arm around Blaine’s shoulders.

“I want to go home, Dr. Fox.” Blaine informs her quietly. “I don’t want to stay here. What if he comes after the girls?”
“Blaine. No one is going to hurt Warren or his family.” Wes embraces him. “I’ll drive you guys back to the clinic.”
“Yes.” Blaine nods, though he doesn’t move. “I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

“I’ll get dressed.” Dr. Fox yawns tiredly. “And don’t worry about our hosts. I’ll leave them a note, and I’ll make sure to call and explain everything in the morning.”

Wes wraps his muscular arms around Blaine and gently helps him to his feet. Blaine leans heavily on Kurt. Breathless, desperate sobs fill the air. They all know everything will change after tonight. Their gilded, expensive hospital is no longer a safe haven. Kurt climbs into the back seat of the van. Blaine follows closely behind, stretches across the bench seat, and lays his head in Kurt’s lap.

The night air is crisp. Frogs croak loudly around them and coyotes yip in the distance. Wes appears minutes later. He is holding their belongings in a simple plastic bag. Dr. Fox trails after him, clutching her smartphone as she texts somebody. They’re all tired and upset. Blaine twitches as the van starts. Dust flies around the white vehicle. The apple trees loom ominously over the poorly paved road. It’s a dark, quiet ride down the mountain.

Exhaustion seeps into Kurt’s bones. Blaine twitches nervously and stares hungrily at the track marks on his arms. They aren’t as visible as they used to be. Kurt sighs, knowing what that look means. Blaine is having an emotional meltdown. Strong shivers run through Blaine’s body. Kurt strokes his arms. It’s completely useless. Blaine’s throat begins to constrict, he gasps for air, and his eyes widen. Fuck.

“Dr. Fox!” Kurt cries, frantically searching through the bag for Blaine’s pills. “He’s having a panic attack.”
It’s not the first time this has happened, but it’s still heart breaking and difficult to watch. Blaine clutches at Kurt’s hands. “Dad. Daddy, stop. Please.”

Dr. Fox scrambles out of her seat and flops down beside them, placing her hands on Kurt’s. “Let me get them.”

The doctor pulls out one of the Lorazepam pills. Blaine stares numbly at the woman, unable to see her through his violent memories. Kurt winces as Dr. Fox expertly shoves the pill into Blaine’s mouth. She hauls Blaine into a sitting position, and begins coaxing him to relax through breathing exercises. Normally it works like a charm. Blaine doesn’t respond this time. Instead, he starts screaming. It’s loud and horrifying.

Kurt can’t see through his tears. Blaine wails so much that Wes has to pull over. They sit there with him, trying to do something—anything—to make him stop. This is the reason Dr. Fox had ushered Blaine away from the farm so quickly. She knew Blaine would react like this. It happens because he can’t handle surprises. Kurt vividly remembers the first time Blaine had an attack. Wilma caused it unintentionally. It left Blaine nearly catatonic. Kurt is terrified the man he loves will slip further away from him.

The frantic breaths begin to ease after several minutes. They are all sitting near Blaine, trying to bring him down from his panic. Relief pools through Kurt’s stomach as Blaine finally grips his hands again and squeezes. “Kurt.”
“It’s okay.” He mutters, pulling Blaine into a tight embrace. “Just breathe.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine cries, falling against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

His apologies fade away as he slumps helplessly into Kurt’s arms. They tremble together in the back seat. Dr. Fox stays where she is, sorrow and sympathy drawn across her fine features. Kurt wonders about their future. Maybe they can stay at the clinic. It’s safe enough there. Security can protect them. Blaine won’t want to leave since he doesn’t handle change well. It’s probably better if they remain at the clinic and weather this storm with people they know and trust.

Dr. Fox is good to Blaine. Kurt is grateful she got Blaine out the house so quickly. The screaming alone would have been enough to wake the entire household. He imagines the triplets seeing a full-fledged panic attack and shudders. They wouldn’t understand. Kurt leans against the window, but he doesn’t sleep. Dawn has arrived by the time the clinic comes into sight.

He feels some of his tension ease as the van drives through the gates. Nurse Harper meets them in the circular driveway. The thin red head smiles warmly at Blaine, wraps a blanket around his shoulders, and ushers him into a wheelchair. Kurt holds Blaine’s hands as they walk towards Dr. Wong’s office. It’s early. The tall Asian doctor isn’t at the clinic yet, but Ben Harper is a nurse practitioner and fully capable of examining patients.

Ben patiently checks Blaine’s blood pressure, draws some blood, prescribes a muscle relaxer, and sends them on their way. Kurt thanks him and takes Blaine back to their room. Dr. Fox is dressed and insists on talking to her patient alone. Kurt agrees. It gives him an opportunity to collect himself. The hallway is quiet.

Wilma West is waiting for him in the cafeteria. The hospital typically houses anywhere from twenty to fifty patients. Since it’s a high end facility, the food is always fresh and there are plenty of healthy choices available. Two chefs cook omelets, pancakes, and various other breakfast staples behind the metal counters. Kurt grunts as he spots Wilma, who is sporting a colorful bruise on her right cheek and a split upper lip.

She shoves a cup of coffee at him and grabs his hand. “I put in your usual order. I also put one in for Blaine. Where is he?”
Kurt greedily drinks his java and blinks at her. “Who did you punch this time, Wilma? Steve? Tracy? Dr. Wong?”
“Michael Anderson.” She blurts, flashing her broken nails. “He had to get sixteen stitches.”

Kurt chokes and coffee splatters all over the ugly blue table. “What?”

Several heads turn around at his shriek. Greg waves cheerfully at him, while Hannah glares, and Trevor rolls his eyes. They are sitting on the other side of the room. Kurt winces apologetically and stares at Wilma. “What happened?”

“He used a pair of wire cutters.” Wilma begins dramatically, lowering her voice. “To get into the facility. Then he climbed up the grapevines, and into my room. His mistake. He thought it was your room.”

“Jesus.” Kurt stares at her in disbelief. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Got in one good punch.” Wilma giggles. “But I cut that bitch. He got arrested in the middle of the night.”

Dr. Fox had known. She wanted to speak to Blaine alone because other patients would surely find out about this little incident. Kurt leaps from his chair and runs out of the dining room. Blaine will need him after he hears this story. Michael Anderson had a lot of nerve, showing up here after what he had done to his son. Rage fuels Kurt’s distressed run upstairs. Their apartment is a mid-sized one bedroom efficiency. It’s a lot like living in a very nice hotel. Kurt bursts into the room uninvited and looks for Blaine.

“He’s sleeping in your bed.” Dr. Fox rises from the couch, wincing at Kurt’s frightened look. “Kurt, you should call your brother. He was worried about you. Blaine is okay. He’s out like a light.”

“I’m going to check on him first.” Kurt isn’t in the mood to hear her concerns about how he is handling this. “I’m not one of your patients, Dr. Fox. You should get some sleep. You look terrible.”

Its cutting and cold, but he doesn’t particularly care. He starts to move towards the bedroom. Of course Blaine would be asleep. The muscle relaxers will keep him out for hours. Kurt can call his family later. Blaine needs him more than they do right now. Dr. Fox grabs his arm. “You can’t put his needs first forever, Kurt. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to start thinking about your own needs.”

“Fuck you.” He hisses viciously, yanking his arm away. “You expect me to sit here and share my problems with you, when Blaine is the one falling apart again? I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with this for eight goddamn years. I did this before, Dr. Fox. I sat there on a fucking couch and thought about my plans for the future, when I should have been refocusing my search. Blaine was suffering and in pain while I went to fucking community college! Everyone tried to convince me that he left me voluntarily. I almost believed them. I couldn’t, and I was right, not them. So I don’t need you to sit there and psycho-analyze me! Blaine needs you. I don’t.”

Kurt brusquely brushes past her. Dr. Fox shakes her head, though she doesn’t stop him from walking away. The doctor compassionately watches him leave. “Kurt, I think you should know that Michael Anderson is under arrest. Unless we can bring legitimate charges against Evan White, there’s no guarantee he’ll be prosecuted. There’s not exactly a lot of evidence in our favor.”
“Perfect.” Kurt snaps. “I heard what happened from Wilma.”

“I’m sure.” Dr. Fox smiles ruefully, unaffected by his outburst. “We can talk about Michael later, Kurt. Call your brother. They obviously care about you.”

She leaves without further comment. Kurt bangs his head against the wall in frustration once she’s gone, annoyed at his explosion. Dr. Fox didn’t really deserve his anger. All she had done was try to help. It’s more than his father did. Kurt balls his hands into tight little fists. No one had listened to him. Finn could have loaned Kurt his car. Wes didn’t have to go to school in New York. Carol should have let Kurt convince Mrs. Anderson to stay in Westerville. They all should have done more, searched harder, and followed through on leads. Blaine could have been found so much faster if they had.

“Kurt?” Blaine disturbs his bitter, vengeful reverie. “Are you coming to bed?”
“I thought you were sleeping.” Kurt’s rage instantly drains out of his body. Blaine needs him. It’s all that matters. “Didn’t you take a muscle relaxer?”

“I only took half.” Blaine admits and smiles sheepishly as Kurt walks into the bedroom. “I was waiting for you. We always sleep together.”
“I’m right here.” Kurt sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m surprised you only took half of that, Blaine. Usually you want one after you have a panic attack.”

“I know.” Blaine looks down at the colorful blankets. “I didn’t even take half. I just pretended like I did.”
“Why?” Kurt strokes his cheek gently. He loves the way Blaine always leans into it. “What’s the matter?”
“I just.” Blaine grips Kurt’s hand and holds it against his face. “I remembered the day he—the day he—the day they took me from you. I lost count.”

“What?” Kurt doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. “What were you counting?”
“How many times he raped me.” Blaine’s voice cracks terribly. “I lost count, because I started to forget how many times we were together.”
Kurt exhales slowly. “Four.”

Blaine nods, dragging Kurt’s hand down his chest. “Four. Kurt. I.”

He can’t finish, but Kurt already knows what he’s trying to say. Their lips meet eagerly. Kurt kisses him softly, runs his hands down Blaine’s chest, and rests his head on Blaine’s stomach. “You know the rules, Blaine.”
“I don’t care!” Blaine shouts. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

“Blaine.” Kurt grips his sides harder than necessary, pressing a kiss into Blaine’s exposed skin. “Blaine.”
“We’re still waiting.” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hair, running his fingers through it. “It’s not fair. All I really want is you. You’re the only thing I wanted for last eight years. I don’t want to wait any longer!”

There’s only one way Kurt can reply. Blaine trembles as Kurt rubs his fingers over his stomach in slow, soft circles. “You remember our first time?”
“Yes.” Blaine gasps hopefully. “Fourth of July.”

Kurt crawls onto his side, hooks a leg over Blaine’s lower body, and kisses him fiercely. Dr. Fox is going to kill him for this. He doesn’t care. No one can stop them now. Kurt rocks into Blaine’s desperate kisses. They are naked within minutes and breathless by the time Blaine starts to stroke Kurt’s thigh.

“I don’t know if we should do this.” Blaine hesitates, and looks away in shame. “I don’t have condoms. I don’t want you to get sick.”
Kurt reaches for Blaine’s face and turns his chin forward. “I’m never going to be with anyone else, Blaine.”

He runs his hands over Blaine’s knee and kisses him. Nothing is going to stop this from happening. They maneuver around the bed until Blaine is straddling Kurt’s hips. It’s going to be just like their first time. Kurt smiles and stares into Blaine’s eyes as their bodies move leisurely together. Blaine’s fingers are entwined in his. It’s mid-morning when they finish, their limbs entangled and spent. Blaine finally takes a muscle relaxer and promptly falls asleep.

The weather man keeps Kurt company as he goes through the morning routine. He fully intends to slumber through midday, but Blaine will be hungry and he’ll want lunch later on. Kurt puts a few simple snacks together and goes back to bed. They sleep through the day. It’s going to be hell trying to regulate their sleep cycles again. Blaine doesn’t really sleep very well anyways, and neither did Kurt for that matter. Sleeping all day would probably benefit their bodies if nothing else.

An attractive local news anchor doles out stories in a western drawl. Kurt listens absentmindedly to the forecast. The tea kettle warms tediously on the small stove. He munches on carrots and sits on the sofa, wondering if he should go down to dinner alone or wait for Blaine. Dr. Fox might castrate him (or possibly kick him out of the hospital) when she finds outs they broke one of her cardinal rules. Kurt needs to call Finn. His brother has always supported him in his search for Blaine. He decides he’ll call Finn after dinner, when Blaine plays poker with Greg and some of the other male patients.

The anchor leads Kurt into another segment and catches him completely off guard. “Breaking News! The FBI arrested over ninety-two people this afternoon in connection to a human trafficking ring. According to several eye witnesses, at least three famous faces were among those arrested. Academy and Tony Award winner Evan White, famed music producer George Jones, and the CEO of Adler’s have been charged with extortion, embezzlement, and, according to police, sexual assault. News at eleven.”

Kurt’s tea cup falls to the floor and shatters into a million pieces. Flashing lights catch his eye. He robotically gets up from the couch, shuffles to the window, and squints. Several news vans sit just beyond the towering bushes and tall fences, their occupants busy filming the clinic.

“No.” He squeaks, heartbroken. “It’s not fair.”

Tears cloud his eyes as he runs back into their bedroom. He shuts the door and slinks under the covers, pulling Blaine’s prone body against him. “Please don’t wake up yet. I need this. Just a little longer.”