Blaine Anderson was not a morning person. If he had a choice, he would never get up before nine. Yet there he was, on a Saturday morning, dawn barely beginning to seep through the window, wide awake and deep in thought.

A week ago at dawn he was leaving a hospital after a brutal assault (rape, Blaine, stop running away from the word, it was rape), broken, shocked and ashamed. His body was in pain, but it was nothing compared to what he was going through in his mind. He thought it was the end of everything. He was certain there was no life for him after that. It was as if this one act cut through every plan and prospect for the future he ever had and left him with only dark, cold emptiness to look forward to.

So much had changed in the seven days since then, even as so much remained the same.

He was still ashamed, but now he slowly started to believe the rape was not his fault and he didn’t bring it on himself.

He was broken and in pain, but he had hope.

He didn’t know how to put together the shattered pieces of himself, but he was shown that it didn’t mean he couldn’t still love and be loved.

He had no idea what future would bring for him, but he knew he had a future, he could shape it and it could still be bright and good.

He had virtually no hope for support and acceptance from his family, but he found it here instead.

He stirred and immediately an arm embracing him tightened, a hand stroked his chest in a soothing gesture. He looked at the other occupant of the bed with open tenderness. Even asleep, Kurt kept guarding Blaine’s dreams, ready to wake up at the first sign of trouble. Kurt. His best friend. His safe person. And now, his boyfriend. It was still so fresh, so new, only two days had passed since the conversation that changed things between them so unexpectedly. Yet at the same time it felt as if they’d been this close forever. In a way, they were. Nothing really changed between them after they confessed their love for each other. Maybe they felt a little bit less reserved about being close, maybe they held hands and looked at each other with open affection now. But since they agreed to leave the sexual aspect out of their relationship for the time being, mostly they just remained best friends. Best friends who were in love with each other.

And he owed Kurt so much. Kurt and this whole wonderful family who took him in and made him feel safe and accepted. Burt, who found him that night, who really saw him, noticed what he tried to hide, and took charge, took care of him, never left him. He could have just given him a ride home and forgotten it, but he didn’t. Then Carole – the mother he couldn’t find in his own. Nurturing and warm, but without babying him, just like he needed. And Finn, who wasn’t sure how to act around him yet, still awkward, but open and accepting. This family, this home – he couldn’t find a better place to heal after his ordeal if he tried. It was the only spot of light in the darkness that fell after he was lured to an empty dorm room, handcuffed to the bed and violated.

But soon – and Blaine shuddered at the thought – he would have to step out of the light. He had one day left here before his parents came back from Europe and took him home. And there would be no tender care there, no ears ready to listen without judging and supportive shoulders to cry on, no chats and laughter over family dinners, and evenings spent playing board games or watching movies together. There would be a big, empty house, disapproving glances and cold words, and solitary nights with only his dreams to keep him company.

And that was just home. Come Monday, there would be school, and even though it meant temporary escape from the stifling walls of his family house, it came with its own challenges – with crowds of people, sudden, loud noises, with pretending to be just fine. Then he needed to start therapy and learn to deal with the memories and feelings that he didn’t even want to think about, let alone describe to anyone. And of course, there was also the bleakest prospect of all – the trial.

Detective Pavlova called him last evening to inform him that Eric, his assailant, was arrested. She said she would call Blaine again as soon as there was a trial date set. Only then did he actually realize that reporting the rape and giving his statement was just a beginning, that there would be a trial – the scary chaos he’s only ever seen in movies: judges, prosecutors and defenders, courtrooms with a bunch of anonymous people who were given the power to declare guilty or innocent – and that he’d have to testify. Maybe it was silly, but he hadn’t thought so far ahead before and the realization scared him senseless. He ended up spending half an hour after this phone call huddled in the corner of the bed, shaking violently and unable to speak, while Kurt paced anxiously begging him to say something. Even now the thought of what would have to happen – and soon – paralyzed him.

As more and more birds chirped outside and the sun came higher, letting bright warm light into the room, Blaine’s thoughts became darker and filled with more dread. It was as if he’d spent this last week in an oasis, surrounded by everything he needed, and now he had to go, leave it all behind, cross through a rocky, desolate, wind-swept desert all by himself, with no destination in sight. He felt lonely, scared and helpless already.

Movement by his side snapped him out of his miserable thoughts. Kurt gathered the covers tighter around himself and mumbled something in his sleep, slight smile playing on his relaxed face. Blaine breathed deeper. He still had time. Time to absorb as much of all the warmth and care surrounding him now as he could. He would cherish every minute of it, save it and let it carry him through the tough times that were bound to come.

He turned to cuddle closer into Kurt’s embrace and closed his eyes.

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Saturday flew by too fast, and while it was filled to the brim with laughter and talking, delicious food and good company, for Blaine there was an undertone of sadness there. Puck and Santana came by after lunch and if they were surprised that he was there and treated like a part of the family, they didn’t let it show. Kurt kept giving them weird glances for some reason and Finn was suddenly awkward again, but Blaine had a lot of fun. It turned out Noah was a pretty funny guy and Santana hid a really interesting person under that bitch fa�ade of hers.

When they left, he and Kurt helped Carole with dinner, while Finn volunteered to clean up afterwards. They all ate together, trying not to choke with laughter as Kurt and Finn shared some of the funnier stories from New Directions, making Blaine wonder how the group with this amount of crazy was able to perform together at all, let alone be as good as he saw during Sectionals.

In the evening everyone sat in the living room to watch a football game, but Kurt soon excused himself and went to his room to “work on a project”. When Blaine ventured upstairs after the game ended, his friend’s clear voice reached him halfway up the stairs.

He stood and listened, finding quiet solace in the words, until the music ended. Opening the door, he found Kurt standing with a small microphone in his hand.

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Oh, hi. I’ve just finished. I’ll show you later.” He went to his computer and played with some software before grabbing Blaine’s hand and leading him to the door. “Come on, let’s go and make some hot chocolate. This will take a while.”

Sitting with Kurt in the kitchen suffused with a soft yellow light while darkness and rain reigned outside, hot chocolate with chili steaming in mugs, warming their hands and hearts – this had to be what heaven felt like. Peaceful, silent contentment. Oh, how he wished they could stay like this forever. But it was futile, of course. All too soon the chocolate was drank, the cups washed and they returned upstairs to prepare for the night, his last one under this welcoming roof.

But first, there was one more surprise waiting for him. Kurt slipped a silver disc from his laptop, put it into a CD case and handed it to him with a shy smile.

“Here. It’s for you. You can copy it into your iPod when you get home.”

“What is it?”

“I… I recorded some songs for you. As in, sang and recorded. The ones I’ve been singing to you all this week. This way you can still listen to my voice when you fall asleep at home.”

Smile spread on Blaine’s face. “Oh wow! Thank you! It’s brilliant!”

Kurt blushed to the tips of his ears. “It’s no big deal. So, who showers first?”

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When Blaine was a little boy, he used to try to stay awake all through the night whenever he knew the next day was going to bring something he was worried about, like a dentist appointment or another of his parents’ business trips. He remembered those nights now, as he lay by Kurt’s side in a dark, silent house, long after the other boy fell asleep, and fought the drowsiness, trying to postpone the inevitable. And just like he always did back then, he failed again, slipping into unconsciousness, unnoticed, to wake up hours later to the knock on the bedroom door and Carole’s voice urging them to get up and come down for breakfast.

Everything moved fast, way too fast after that. Suddenly breakfast was over, his things were packed and the hands of his watch raced towards noon, when his parents were supposed to be there to get him – a fact they announced in a call to Mr. Hummel, since his own phone lay at the bottom of his bag now, smashed in his angry fit several days before.

And then there was a doorbell chiming, and there they were.