On Tuesday Carole insisted on looking at Blaine's injuries to check if they were healing properly. They were. After she left the bathroom, he decided to just bite the bullet and finally look in the mirror. He couldn't avoid it forever, could he?

It was bad. He'd seen the bruises on his wrists and the long red lines of scraped skin down his sides when he was showering before. He could even look at them without flashbacks now. But the bite marks covering his back in a mosaic of angry red cuts and purple bruises were the worst by far. One look and he gagged, and had to duck for the toilet immediately, as memories assaulted him with renewed force. It took him ten minutes of kneeling on the cold tiled floor before his breathing slowed down and he was sure he wouldn't throw up anymore. He didn't risk another look though. The marks would heal eventually, the bruises fade. He could easily avoid seeing his back until that happened. Or maybe ever. Right now he would do something to stop looking like he'd just stepped out of wilderness.

After he shaved the scruff of four days and tamed his curls somewhat, he felt a bit more like himself, and even his black eye looked less menacing.

There was a gasp when he came back to his temporary bedroom, still shirtless. Kurt must have returned from a grocery run in the meantime, and was staring at his back now, face stricken. Blaine pulled his T-shirt on as quickly as his restricted movements allowed. He knew exactly what Kurt saw and understood his reaction all too well, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

"Yeah, I know, I'm repulsive."

"What? No!"

"Oh come on, I've seen this look on your face. You're disgusted." The anger was coming back and he really shouldn't direct it at Kurt of all people, not again…

"Of course I am. By what this bastard did to you. I could never be disgusted by you!"

"Oh really?" … too late, he was yelling now. "What if I told you how I let him kiss me, touch me, how I even liked it at first, huh? What if I described how he handcuffed me to the bed and then bit me, scratched me, leaving those marks? How he was everywhere, on me, in me, what if I told you he raped me, Kurt? Would you be so accepting if you knew that?"

Kurt was white as a sheet at this point and his hands shook violently, but there was no shock on his face, no revulsion or discomfort that Blaine expected. Instead he saw raw pain in his friend's eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Blaine, I do know that."

"What?" Okay, that was a surprise. And now that he thought about it, it really shouldn't be. It was pretty obvious Mr. Hummel would have told his son what happened before he came home. He had to explain it all, had to prepare him. Maybe Blaine should be angry about it – it wasn't Burt's secret to tell, after all – but he just felt insanely relieved instead. No more secrets. It was done, Kurt knew. Why did he never even consider that he might have? Well… Kurt still acted so normal about him, didn't he? He didn't shy away, didn't hesitate to touch him, hold him, never even looked at him funny. He wasn't that good an actor to be able to hide it all this time if he was repulsed by him. Did it mean… he wasn't? But how could he not be? Blaine's voice broke when he asked, "You… you know?"

"Dad told me. I've known ever since I came back. No details, but I've known. And does this feel like I'm disgusted?" Kurt came close, so close, and without the slightest hesitation enveloped Blaine in a careful but tight hug. "I am so, so sorry it happened to you. So freaking sorry I couldn't prevent it somehow."

"You tried," he smiled sadly. "I was just too stupid to listen."

He hid his face on his friend's shoulder and let himself be held as a wave of grief hit him. Why hadn't he dated Kurt instead of Eric? He'd been attracted to this beautiful boy ever since he first met him. Why had he never acted on it? He knew Kurt used to have feelings for him. They could have been together and it would be perfect. Why hasn't he realized it sooner? None of this would have happened if he decided to trust his instinct instead of playing the friendship card and looking for… what exactly? Drama, most likely... Well, he'd found it, didn't he? Jeremiah, Rachel, then Eric. Now all hope was lost. He could only take these precious moments of closeness he was given and save them in his heart forever.

Once the dreaded r-word was out in the open, they were both relieved to be able to talk more freely, without avoiding the obvious topics and feeling like walking on eggshells around each other. Blaine told Kurt about the two days when they were apart and how Eric had convinced him that it would be better to stay away from the other boy's "obvious jealousy", at least until they got to know each other better.

"He said he was afraid you'd split us up. He was probably setting the trap already. You might have forced me to open my eyes if we talked."

"I wish I did."

Kurt in turn confessed that he cried in the shower every day because he couldn't stand his helplessness, that seeing his friend's pain and not being able to fix it for him was breaking his heart. Blaine was stunned.

"But you do help me, Kurt, every moment of every day! You help me so much. I don't know what I would do without you here. You are… You are my safe person, you know? I feel calmer when I see you. Your voice has this incredible power of quieting all my thoughts and reaching to me even through my worst nightmares. I pretty much can't stand anyone's touch right now… but yours. It's like you're the only constant in my life. Everything has changed but you are still here, you care and I trust you, and I know you would never hurt me. Hey, why are you crying?"

"Just… Thank you."

They were sitting on the living room sofa that afternoon, eating ice-cream.

"You know… I think it's all my fault."

"What?"

"The rape. I feel like it's my own fault."

"You can't be serious."

"I flirted with him, Kurt. I went to the club with an older guy and did my best to look amazing. I turned the charm on full force. I let him get me alcohol. I went with him to his empty dorm room in the middle of the night for god's sake, what did I expect? Snuggles? I basically asked for it, right?"

"Oh come on! You probably wanted romance and not much more at this point, didn't you? And you had every right to expect and allow just that. You had the right to flirt and charm. You are charming by nature, Blaine, you flirted with me more than once – it doesn't mean you invited me to… to jump you or something."

"Well, but that's different. We weren't on a date."

But it was not Kurt who answered this time.

"It doesn't change anything."

They looked up, startled. Carole was standing in the doorway, still in her nurse uniform, the look on her face apologetic, but determined.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear." She came in and sat in the armchair facing the boys. "Blaine, being on a date doesn't automatically mean permission for sex. Have you ever heard the term date rape? We are taught to recognize it in the hospital, because it happens more often than you would think and the victims usually don't report it, because they are told they asked for it – with their clothes or their actions, or supposedly just by going out with somebody. But let me tell you something, son. You didn't ask for it. Not unless you actually allowed the man to do every single thing he did to you. Not unless you never tried to stop him at any point. If you said no and he didn't stop, it's rape, plain and simple. None of it is your fault. He probably told you it is, right?"

"He called me a… a cocktease."

Carole snorted a humorless laugh.

"Haven't I heard this one before. Rapists often say things like that. 'You wanted it'. 'You flirted with me'. 'It's your fault if you dressed like a whore'. 'You asked for it'. You know why? They are trying to transfer the blame this way. Rape survivors all too often believe it's their own fault, that they somehow deserved it, brought it on themselves. Usually, if they don't find help immediately, they end up not reporting the rape and hating themselves for years afterwards for something that was done to them. That's why we are taught to recognize such patients – to help them deal with it. Blaine," Carole leaned and carefully took his hand. He didn't withdraw it this time. "You need to report it. You need counseling to come to terms with what happened and deal with consequences. But most of all, you need to believe me when I say it was NOT your fault, you didn't deserve it, you didn't ask for it. You are not the one to blame for this, do you understand? Think about it – if it was Kurt that was in your exact situation, would you blame him? Would you think it was his fault?"

Blaine spluttered. "Of course not!"

"See? The exact same situation. You are a great kid, Blaine – handsome, charismatic, smart, passionate, talented – you were like that before last week and you still are, nothing changed in that regard. You are not a worse person because you were raped. And there are people here who really, really care about you and want to help you any way we can."

Kurt was nodding vigorously next to him and suddenly it was too much for Blaine to hold in. And when tears started, there seemed to be no end to them. Evening found him still on the sofa, hidden in Kurt's arms, eyes red and swollen, throat raw from sobbing, but heart much lighter.