Blaine woke early. He untangled himself from Kurt's body as carefully as he could. Kurt whined quietly at the loss of contact, but did not wake. As quietly as possible, Blaine made his way to Kurt's bathroom, hoping to take a shower. His dreams had not exactly been pleasant, and he wanted more than anything to relax under the hot water. He locked the bathroom door behind him and sighed. His wrists were hurting like hell now, but at the same time, he wished he had a razor with him. He wanted to ease the pain that was now burning inside of him; he wanted to forget everything that had happened. But he knew Kurt wouldn't let that happen, and had more than likely removed anything he could use. It didn't stop him from searching though. Ten minutes later, Blaine came to the conclusion that Kurt was a lot smarter than he thought. He stepped into the shower, breathing a sigh of relief under the flow of water. He didn't stay in there for long. Once he was finished, he stepped out and changed, stepping back into the bedroom. The others were still asleep.

Blaine made his way across the bedroom, trying his best not to step on anyone. He decided he needed some air, so he made his way out of the basement and up the stairs. The house was silent – after all, it was six in the morning. No one in their right mind was up yet. Blaine shook his head at the thought – he wasn't in his right mind, and that was obvious. He opened the front door and sat down on the doorstep, sighing. The air was cool and refreshing against his bruises. He closed his eyes, feeling fully relaxed for the first time in weeks. It was then that he remembered what he'd hidden in with his belongings. Adrenaline rushed through him and he stood up, searching through the duffle bags he had brought to Kurt's house.

"Blaine…" Kurt mumbled, moving to pull his boyfriend closer to him. He only met thin air. He frowned and without opening his eyes, moved his arm down the bed in search of Blaine's body. When he couldn't find him, he opened his eyes and sat up. A quick glance around the bedroom told him Blaine wasn't there… but where was he? He yawned and stretched, deciding that he was probably in the shower. But he couldn't hear the sound of running water and the bathroom door was wide open. Had he ventured upstairs? His stomach clenched at this – there were plenty of harmful things around the house that Blaine could find. He stood up and ran across the room. There were cries of pain from several of the people scattered across the floor, but Kurt didn't look back to see who he'd stood on. He took the stairs two at a time and looked around the landing frantically.

"Blaine?" He called quietly. There was no answer. Kurt's eyes found one of Blaine's duffle bags lying on the floor. It was open and some of the contents were visible. "Blaine," he said louder. "Where are you?"

He heard a yelp and the unmistakeable sound of metal hitting the floor. His heart sank. His legs seemed to move of their own accord, and he found himself pressed against the bathroom door.

"Blaine, open this door." His voice was calm – the complete opposite to how he felt. He wasn't a fucking idiot; he knew what Blaine was doing in there. He'd done it himself when he was younger.

"N-No Kurt, I'm just having a shower," Blaine said. Kurt could hear the cracks in his façade. His voice broke slightly at the end.

"Of course you are, and I like fucking girls," he snapped sarcastically. "I'm not stupid Blaine, open the door."

"No."

"You know I'll just break it down, don't you?"

"You wouldn't – C-Carole would kill you."

"So? I'd knock this whole house down if it meant stopping you from hurting yourself."

"I'm not doing anything!"

Kurt's fist slammed into the door. "Dammit Blaine, don't lie to me! You can't lie to me, I can see right through it. I may have only known you for a few days, but already I know you. You need me, Blaine. You need me to hold you – that's why you calm down so quickly in my arms."

"Kurt, p-please don't make this difficult…"

"You're the one making it difficult!" He said, punching the door again. "There are other ways you can deal with this! I took up boxing, I went to a counsellor. Sure, I didn't tell her everything but she knew enough. She guessed most of it. You don't have to do this Blaine!"

For the first time in years, Kurt was crying. His voice broke in odd places and there were tears escaping his eyes.

"Blaine, please…"

Blaine was silent. After about a minute, Kurt heard the lock sliding against the door. He threw it open, his heart breaking at the sight before him. Blaine was shirtless, so his bruises were clearly visible. He was sat on the edge of the bath, his wrists bleeding, a razor blade held tightly in his hands. Slowly, Kurt approached him. He reached a hand out to take hold of Blaine's, who flinched as though he were expecting a fight. Kurt ignored this, despite it destroying him, and tried to make Blaine open his fist.

"Give me the razor."

"No."

"Blaine, give it to me."

"No."

It took all of Kurt's efforts not to roll his eyes. Blaine was holding the blade tightly in his fist; blood began to trickle through his fingers.

"Look at what you're doing to yourself!" He snapped. "Please Blaine, give it to me."

Blaine just shook his head. Kurt knew how stubborn he was and sighed. He forced Blaine to sit on the floor and told him to stay there. He then took a towel from the rack and began patting the wounds on Blaine's wrists gently. Blaine let out a whimper each time the towel made contact with his skin.

"I know it hurts… Don't hold that blade so tightly, okay? Let me get you cleaned up."

Blaine didn't respond. Kurt ended up using a washcloth to clean the wounds on Blaine's arms, using the towel to dry them. Blaine began to hyperventilate, feeling the all-too-familiar signs of a panic attack creeping up on him. He looked at Kurt, his eyes wide with terror. Kurt seemed to understand, because he immediately began singing in a soft, soothing voice.

"Yeah I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand

When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand; I wanna hold your hand

Oh please say to me you'll let me be your man

And please say to me you'll let me hold your hand

Now let me hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand"

Blaine's eyes were wide. He was still trembling and his breathing was still raspy. He was definitely panicking now – why the hell wasn't he calming down? Singing normally worked and Kurt had the voice of an angel. Why the fuck wasn't it working? Kurt seemed to sense this too, because he stopped cleaning Blaine's arms and took his face in his hands, singing as gently as he could.

"And when I touch you, I feel happy inside

It's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide

I can't hide, I can't hide

Yeah you've got that something

I think you'll understand

When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand; I wanna hold your hand

Yeah I wanna hold your hand."

Kurt looked at Blaine expectantly, sighing when he just shook his head. He was silent for a fraction of a second before sitting opposite him on the floor, singing again. He took Blaine's hands in his and made sure to sit as still as he could, trying to calm him.

"Never knew I could feel like this

Like I've never seen the sky before

Want to vanish inside your kiss

Every day I love you more and more

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings?

Telling me to give you everything

Seasons my change; winter to spring

But I love you until the end of time."

Blaine's eyes widened. He'd told Kurt that Moulin Rouge was his favourite film when they had been talking about musicals, just a few days ago. But that conversation had just been a normal thing to pass the time in their math class – had Kurt actually remembered or was it just a coincidence? Blaine's breathing calmed immediately. His hands stopped shaking and he seemed to be able to focus his attention entirely on Kurt. Before he even realised what he was doing, Blaine opened his mouth and sang. Kurt's eyes widened and he stopped, dumbstruck – Blaine was actually singing back to him. And it was beautiful.

"Come what may, come what may

I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

It all revolves around you."

Kurt was unable to hide his smile now. This beautiful, yet broken boy was singing as though his whole life depended on it. He was stunned at how strong Blaine's voice actually was. His hazel eyes were fixed on Kurt's face, as though he would die if he moved them away. Kurt opened his mouth and sang with Blaine, slightly surprised how their voices blended together in a perfect harmony. He'd known Blaine was a good singer, but this was an entirely different thing. Blaine was singing with raw emotion and it was the epitome of beauty.

"And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide

But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may

I will love you until my dying day

Oh, come what may, come what may

I will love you, oh I will love you

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Come what may, come what may

I will love you until my dying day."

Blaine's panic attack had completely vanished. His lips were inches from Kurt's and before he knew what was happening, they were kissing fiercely, hands wound in each other's hair tightly. Kurt pulled him closer to him – Blaine ended up straddling Kurt, still kissing him as though they were glued together.

"Kurt, that song," he murmured against his lips.

"I know," he breathed back, his eyes closed. "I meant every word – to both of them."

"Me too," he said.

Kurt smiled and moved from Blaine's mouth, letting his lips explore eagerly. In a matter of seconds, he discovered a spot on Blaine's neck that was more than sensitive.

"Kurt!" Blaine moaned when he felt his lips brush against it. Kurt gave a wicked grin – he knew exactly what he was doing to him. "Kurt, oh my god," he hissed through his teeth.

There was a knock at the door. The two of them jumped as though they had been burned. Blaine leapt off Kurt's lap, his eyes wide.

"It's me," Santana's voice said through the door. "Hurry up, I want a shower."

"Okay," Kurt replied, "we'll be just a second."

"Please, for the love of god, don't tell me you're balls-deep in Blaine right now… or the other way around. Just hurry up, whatever the hell you're doing. Rachel's stolen your bathroom Kurt, and her morning routines are a pain in the ass."

"Shut up," Kurt snapped. He turned to Blaine, speaking in a much softer voice. "Pass me the cloth and the towel, I'll wash them. Just rinse out the sink and put your jumper back on to hide your arms, okay?"
Blaine gave a shaky nod and did as Kurt asked. He was still feeling light-headed from their kiss and how quickly it had deepened. There was no denying it, he'd fallen for Kurt.

"Blaine, are you still with me?" Kurt's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Again, he gave a nod and a small smile. "Good… Now give me the razor." When Blaine hesitated, Kurt rolled his eyes. "You know I'll just fight you for it. Give it to me so I don't have to hurt you." Blaine sighed and put the razor in Kurt's open hand. "Don't do it again. I mean it!"

He just nodded. Kurt checked the bathroom – as far as he could see, there were no signs of blood anywhere. He unlocked the door, not surprised to see Santana stood right behind it.

"About time Hummel," she snapped irritably. "What the hell were you doing in there?"

"Blaine wanted to talk to me, so I suggested we come upstairs so no one overheard."

"Right, that's obviously why I heard tribrows moaning your name."

Blaine flushed furiously, but to his surprise, Kurt laughed. "Santana, don't get your hopes up in a bid to gossip. I wasn't fucking Blaine. Go and shower or whatever you were planning to do, bed-hair really doesn't suit you."

Santana opened her mouth, no doubt thinking of a retort. She seemed to think the better of it, because she pushed past them both, slamming the bathroom door shut behind her. Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"I think we've guessed that she is not a morning person," Blaine muttered. Kurt heard and let out a laugh. They went back down to the basement bedroom, slightly surprised to see that everyone, except for Puck, was awake.

"Where did you two disappear to?" Finn asked when they walked in.

"Shit, shower and shave," Kurt replied without looking at him. Blaine shook his head to show Finn that he was only joking.

"I wanted to talk to Kurt about something, so we went upstairs – didn't want to disturb anyone."

"Is… is everything okay?"

Blaine nodded at Brittany. His heart ached at the concern in her voice. She beamed at him and returned to what she was doing – poking Puck with a pencil. Puck gave a loud grunt and tried to bat the stick of wood away, much to Brittany's pleasure.

Blaine moved to sit beside Jeff, who looked slightly shocked at the sight around him.

"Its seven thirty in the morning, how the hell are they all awake? How are you awake?"

"I've been up since six Jeff, I had a nightmare."

"Shit, I'm sorry… do you wanna talk?"

He shook his head. "It's no big deal."

"Is that what you went to talk to Kurt about?"

Blaine looked around the room. No one was interested in their conversation – except for Kurt. He was now sat with his back against the wall, sketch pad on his knees. Blaine couldn't help but notice that he was staring at a fixed point in front of him, listening. He was keeping an eye on him. Blaine looked back at Jeff and shook his head slowly.

"Then what did you…?"

With a sigh, Blaine gestured to his wrists. It took a few seconds for Jeff to understand. When he did, his eyes went wide. He raised his hand and hit Blaine on the back of the head, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to earn him a surprised gasp.

"You're such a fucking idiot," he hissed.

"I know. Don't bother giving me a lecture, Kurt already did that."

"This isn't over, Hobbit." Jeff was angry, there was no hiding it. Blaine rolled his eyes but said no more. He knew he had to take everything one step at a time.

Once everyone had showered and changed (which took a surprisingly short amount of time, considering the amount of people that were there), they ventured upstairs. Some of them, like Finn, Puck, Nick and David, were obviously in the hope of food. Carole was delighted to see them all, and immediately set about making pancakes, Blaine by her side.

"Thank you dear," she said gratefully as they entered the kitchen.

"No problem," he replied. "I like cooking, it calms me down."

"That's good then. Come on, let's get started."

Blaine nodded his agreement. They were silent as they worked, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He was grateful – Finn's mother was the kind of person where silence was never awkward. She hummed quietly as they cooked. Blaine grinned and began humming with her.

"I think we'll just give them the food in there," Carole said once the pancakes were done. "This kitchen is far too small to fit everyone."

"Agreed – are you joining us?"

"Oh, no sweetie, I'll only end up embarrassing you all. No, I'm going to go shopping, I think we need some more food."

Blaine nodded and together, they carried the seventeen plates into the living room. Everyone was crammed in, watching something on the TV. Carole waved her goodbye, handing Blaine his plate of pancakes before she left.

"Man, these are delicious!" Puck moaned. Kurt caught Blaine's eye and they burst out laughing. After a while, Quinn suggested they watch a film.

"No, we can't do that!" Rachel squealed, horrified. "We have regionals in a month, we need to practise!"

"Oh my god Rachel, shut up," Mercedes said, sighing. "It's the weekend. I think we've earned the right to relax – you and Mr Schue have been putting us through hell in glee this week."

"But-"

"She's right," Finn said. He knew Rachel would be pissed because he disagreed with her, but he didn't have the energy to argue. "We deserve a break. What film shall we watch?"

As expected, there was some bickering. Most of the boys wanted to watch an action film, whereas the girls wanted to watch a romance.

"I am not sitting through two and half hours of a bunch of guys blowing each other up!"

"Aw, come on Quinn," Artie said, laughing. "James Bond is a good film; you just gotta watch the right one."

"I'm with Quinn; I'm not watching any James Bond films!" Tina said.

"What about Moulin Rouge?" Thad suggested. Everyone went silent, thinking. Eventually, most of them agreed – the only ones that didn't were Finn and Puck.

"Aw man, Rachel makes me watch this film at least three times a week."

"One more won't hurt then, will it," she snapped at him.

"I've never seen this, but come on. A musical about falling in love – seems a little cliché doesn't it?"

"There's prostitutes in this film," Santana said, knowing he'd shut up. He grinned and winked, settling back to watch the film.

For the next two hours, none of them said a word, except to sing along with the songs. When the finale came on the screen, both Kurt and Blaine froze. Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor were singing that song. They glanced at each other, smiling – they were obviously thinking the same thing. The urge to kiss was overwhelming. Eventually, Blaine leaned up and brushed their lips together gently.

"I knew it!" Santana cried a satisfied grin on her face. "I knew I heard you two singing this earlier!"

"Dammit Santana, you're ruining a perfectly lovely moment!" Mercedes said, not looking away from the movie.

"Wait, they were singing this earlier?" Nick asked, tearing his eyes from the screen. "Are you being serious?" She nodded. "That's adorable," he said, turning his attention back to the screen. "Now shut up, this is my favourite part. I cry every time."

Santana rolled her eyes, taking another glance at Kurt and Blaine. Kurt winked at her and she smirked before returning to watching the film. Kurt took this opportunity to kiss Blaine again.

"You two are going to end up going at it on that couch in a minute," she said without looking at them. Kurt laughed loudly.

"Who said romance was dead?" He muttered against Blaine's lips. Blaine allowed himself a smile. He actually felt happy. His friends had actually succeeded in making him feel better – he felt as though he finally belonged somewhere. And he was there.