Kurt’s whole body is tense during the drive, limbs stiff and movements a little too jerky. In the passenger seat, Blaine, now dressed in some of the clothes Kurt brought him, sits with his head against the window, staring straight ahead, his arms wrapped tight around himself. He hasn’t spoken a word, not since Kurt came back to check him out of the hospital after dropping by Blaine’s apartment to get his things (his blood still stains the bathroom sink, and Kurt had spent a good minute dry heaving at the sight), and the hardware store to buy two padlocks (one for the knife drawer, one for the medicine cabinet; he supposes Blaine could drown himself in the bathtub if he tried hard enough but at least he can get rid of a few options.) He ought to try to get Blaine to talk, but where to begin? He’s at a loss for what to say.

“If you want to just take me back to my place, go ahead.” They’ve spent so long in silence that Blaine’s voice makes Kurt jump in his seat. He glances at Blaine, who hasn’t moved or even looked at him.

“They said you need to stay with someone.” Kurt argues.

“They don’t have to know.”

“What, so you can try to do yourself in again?” Blaine doesn’t even flinch, just lifts his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. If he would just show some emotion, toward anything… “No, you’re coming home with me. I can’t say I really like the idea either, but it’s not forever, okay? Just until I know you’re safe.”

Blaine sits up straight, finally looking over at Kurt for the first time. “I just…” He pauses, and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“You can talk to me. It’s okay.”

Blaine shakes his head again. This is looking harder and harder by the minute. After a while, Blaine tries again. “I just don’t understand why you would do this when I know you don’t want me around,” he blurts out in a breathless rush.

Kurt bites his lip. “I… I just want to do the right thing here,” he says slowly. “If… if you got hurt and there was a chance I could stop it, but I didn’t take it, I would never forgive myself.”

“I wish you weren’t so fucking noble,” Blaine muttered.

Kurt somehow managed to crack a smile. “Yeah, well. That makes two of us.” He’s so distracted by the conversation that he nearly misses the turnoff to his apartment complex, but manages to make it just in time. “At least this arrangement will make Amelia happy,” he murmurs, more to himself than Blaine.

A pause. “How… how is she?” Blaine almost sounds afraid to know.

Kurt’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he thinks about the week he’s had between getting his daughter back and this whole mess. She hasn’t slept much, or eaten, and everything he says turns into an argument. He has no idea if that’s normal for her age, but it’s as if she’s five going on fifteen and it’s driving him mad. “She’s not… happy. With me. She keeps asking to go home.” He swallows. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“She’s very sensitive.”

“Tell me about it.” Kurt shakes his head. “It’s not like I’m taking you in just so you can be a babysitter or whatever, but - well, maybe you’ll be able to mellow her out. And maybe being around her will help you, too. You never know.” He turns to try to smile at Blaine, but he’s already curled in on himself again, refusing to look at Kurt. Kurt sighs heavily. It’s clear that he’s not going to get anywhere by talking about Blaine’s issues. Yeah, this won’t be disastrous at all.

He pulls up behind Rachel’s car, breathing a sigh of relief at the sign that Amelia got home from school safely - it’s the first time this week he hasn’t been there to pick her up. Kurt loads his arms up with the groceries he’d bought on the way back from Blaine’s apartment, while Blaine grabs his own bags from the trunk and follows Kurt up the stairs.

When they get inside, Rachel is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Amelia, who copies her position exactly. There are various toys strewn around them (one of her Barbie dolls is riding in a monster truck) but they aren’t playing with them. Instead, they’re singing together, a loud and rambunctious rendition of Mary Had A Little Lamb, complete with Rachel’s signature show-faces, that is sure to drive the neighbors insane. Kurt sets the groceries down in the walk-in kitchen and watches them, a small smile growing on his face. When he looks over at Blaine, he’s lingering by the front door as if unsure if he’s allowed to be here. He stares the two girls as well, and for the first time all day he has a readable expression on his face, a strange mixture of tenderness and fear.

The song comes to an end, and Rachel says, “Flawless, Miss Amelia. You’re already Broadway material.”

“Just like you?” Amelia stares at her with wide eyes.

“Just like me.” Rachel’s hand shoots out to tickle Amelia’s belly, and the child giggles and shrieks. Kurt hasn’t seen her this happy much in the past week. If singing with her is the key to that, he doesn’t know why he never thought of it before. He makes a mental note to sing more lullabies at bedtime.

“How are my two favorite girls?” Kurt calls out, getting their attention. Rachel smiles as she turns to face Kurt, and Amelia says, “Hi, Daddy! Auntie Rachel is teaching me how to sing!”

“I bet she is.” He steps into the living room and scoops her up into a hug. She squeezes tight around his neck, and a moment later, he hears her sharp gasp.

“Papa!” She squirms out of Kurt’s arms, rushing away to throw herself around Blaine’s legs. “I missed you bunches.”

Kurt looks back at them. Blaine’s eyes are closed, and he gently strokes Amelia’s wild curls as he murmurs, voice breaking, “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

“Are you living with me now?”

“I… yeah I guess I am.” Amelia squeals in delight and hugs him tighter, and Kurt feels sad for reasons he doesn’t even want to figure out. Blaine lifts his head, meeting Rachel’s eyes. “…Hey, Rachel.”

“Blaine.” Rachel says stiffly, still staring at Blaine in shock. She looks to Kurt, eyebrow raised.

“Hey Amelia,” Kurt says, eyes still locked with Rachel’s. “Why don’t you show Papa to the guest room, okay? Help him unpack or something.”

She grabs his hand and drags him down the hallway, her chattering growing quiet, and once Kurt hears the door to the spare bedroom open and then close behind them, he collapses on the couch. He’s far more exhausted than he has any right to feel. Rachel picks herself up off the floor and plops down on the couch next to him, eyes narrowed.

“What?” He snaps.

“What exactly is going on?” She nods in the general direction of the spare room. “Did he say he’s living with you?”

Rachel and Blaine had been good friends until the breakup, but as far as Kurt knew, they had broken contact after that, though not through any insistence on Kurt’s part. Most of their mutual friends had taken Kurt’s side, he realizes with a pang of guilt. He shrugs. “Just for a little while, until… he gets better,” he says. Even if the bandages around his arms make things obvious, it’s not his place to talk about what’s wrong with Blaine, not when Blaine isn’t ready to talk to anyone. “I don’t think it’ll be for long.”

“Kurt, are you sure this is a good idea?” Her eyes are full of worry, and while he appreciates the concern, worry is the last thing he wants now. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’d hardly let him in my house if I thought he was going to beat me up, would I?” He tries to make it sound funny even though he knows it’s the farthest thing from it. It comes out bitter instead.

“To be fair, you never thought he would before.” Rachel points out. Kurt scoffs and stands up, picking up the various toys that Amelia has strewn about and putting them back in her toy box (Blaine had painted it for her, ages ago, to look like a castle. She alternates between being a knight and a damsel in distress depending on her mood.)� “But that’s not exactly what I meant, although I know how easy it can be to slip back into a dysfunctional relationship -“

“Oh my god, you haven’t even seen Jesse St. James since highschool, you can hardly compare -“ He stops himself and shakes his head. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’ll only blow everything out of proportion. Well, more than usual. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just helping him out. No dishonorable intentions.”

“Kurt, would you please just look at me?” She pleads. He does, dropping the last of the toys in the box first. She really does look concerned, but he’s not the one who needs concern right now. Blaine is. “I’ve always admired how selfless you are. It’s a skill I’ve never managed to pick up. But you do have to think about what’s best for you sometimes.”

“This isn’t even about me! Why is it so hard for anyone to believe that I just want to help the guy out?”

“Because you know he’s going to make your life miserable, just like before. You don’t owe him anything, Kurt.”

“Damn it, Rachel -“ He cuts himself off, covering his mouth with his hand as, for the first time in this long, emotional day, tears start to well up in his eyes. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying, it’s so stupid, but everything is piling up on top of him and it’s just too much. He wipes the tears away before they can fully form. “He has nowhere else to go. Nowhere. I’m literally the only thing he has right now. I don’t know how to handle it, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, but I’m trying, okay? I can’t abandon him now; I just can’t, and - I don’t know, a little bit of support would go a long way here.”

He feels Rachel’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and then smoothing out the fabric she’d rumpled. Kurt resists the urge to sniffle and looks back at his best friend. “If you need any help at all,” she says quietly.

“I know.”

“Really, anything. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. I know how you can get sometimes, when you’re focused on taking care of other people.”

He tries his best to force a smile, and thinks of his single-minded need to look after his father during and in the aftermath of his time in the hospital. Rachel has been around for some of the most important experiences of his life; she knows him better than just about anyone now. Once that honor would have gone to Blaine, but not anymore. “I’m just too good for my own good, I guess,” he murmurs.

Rachel smiles sadly, and then leans over to kiss Kurt on the cheek before she stands up. “I should go. I’m sure having me around won’t help him settle in. Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. Thank you for helping today.” He hugs her tight, and once she’s out the door he takes a moment, just to sit there in the silence and not think about anything in particular and breathe.

Blaine and Amelia still haven’t emerged from the guest room, so he goes to see what they’re up to, leaning in the open doorway and watching. They’re sitting on the bed, Blaine’s luggage unopened on the floor in front of them, and Amelia is talking, content to sit there are chat away about what happened at school that day. Blaine nods and makes commentary every once in a while, but mostly he just listens.

He still looks at her the same way he did when they first got to meet her after she was born, like she’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“Is everything okay in here?” Kurt asks. He’s a little nervous about leaving Blaine to sleep alone, but there are hardly any other options.

“Yeah,” Blaine says softly. “Yeah, we’re… fine.” His voice falters on the last word, and Amelia looks up at him, brow furrowed. Even she can tell that he is the furthest thing from fine.

God, but it hurts to feel so closed off. He knows that he hasn’t been the best at letting Blaine in either - hasn’t wanted to - but it’s like the wall between them is a tangible thing that he isn’t sure how to knock down. “I was going to start on supper… are you two hungry?” Amelia nods enthusiastically, but Blaine just shrugs. “Well, if you aren’t hungry I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you. Just in case.”

Blaine nods, staring up at Kurt with glassy eyes. “Thank you, Kurt,” he says softly. Kurt wonders if he’s saying it for more than the dinner, but chalks it up to wishful thinking. He forces himself to smile, reaching out to Amelia and wiggling his fingers in a sign for her to follow him.

“Why don’t you help me with supper, Amelia? Give Papa a little space to settle in.”

She nods and jumps up, taking Kurt’s hand and following him down the hallway. It’s only once they’re in the kitchen that Amelia speaks up, her voice trembling slightly as she asks, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Papa?”

Kurt closes his eyes. He knew that she would have questions, she’s such a perceptive child, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely prepared to answer them. He isn’t prepared for any of this. He kneels down on the linoleum floor to look straight into her wide hazel eyes. “Papa is very sick right now,” he says carefully. No way can he explain suicide to a five year old. “So he needs to stay here for a little while so that we can take care of him.”

“Does Papa need medicine?”

“No, sweetheart.” Kurt smiles. “It’s not that sort of sick. It’s like…” He hesitates, thinking it over. “It’s like he’s sick in his heart. It’s making him sad. He might be sad a lot, but I want you to remember that it isn’t because of anything you did, okay?”

She nods. “When will he be all better?”

“We don’t know.”

“Can I help?”

Kurt swallows. “You can be very, very nice to your papa. You can try your best to make him happy. Sometimes he’ll need his space, and you have to give him that, too. Right now, that’s all we can do.”

“Okay.”

He can’t be sure she understands, but he thinks that his daughter knows more than she lets on sometimes. Kurt wraps her up in a tight hug, eyes closed against the tears that, for what feels like the hundredth time that day, prickle there. “I love you very much, Amelia Elizabeth,” he whispers.

For the first time in days, she doesn’t try to wriggle out of his arms. She hugs him back, seeming to understand the need for closeness even if she doesn’t completely understand what’s going on. “I know. Love you too, Daddy.”

Kurt sniffs and lets her go. “How about that supper?”

Blaine doesn’t emerge from the guest room, not for dinner or even once Amelia has been put to bed. Kurt is half-afraid, when he tiptoes into the room later to see if Blaine is okay, that he’ll find a dead body. Instead, he finds Blaine asleep, albeit fitfully, still fully clothed and on top of the sheets, his luggage still untouched at the bedside like he’s staying in a motel, like he doesn’t expect to be here long.

Kurt hesitates only a moment before he steps softly inside, pulling the comforter up to Blaine’s shoulders. He stirs a little, mumbles something, but doesn’t wake, just burrows further into the soft bed like it’s his cocoon.� For a moment Kurt has the strangest urge to smooth his hair back from his forehead and press a light kiss there, the way he always used to after they had fought (and there were oh so many fights) and he made Blaine sleep on the couch for the night. He had never been able to drift off after one of the fights, not until he did that one simple thing; as if he was telling Blaine that he still loved him, even when he couldn’t say it in words.

He can’t anymore, of course, probably will never be able to again - and he should be over it by now, but nope, it still hurts. He leaves the room as quickly as he can and crosses the hallway to his own room, and he lays awake there for hours, willing this nightmare of a day to be over.

He can almost feel Blaine’s presence in the apartment like a physical thing, like a tether between the two of them, a tether that had never truly broken.

�