One spring day, Kurt's mommy and daddy take Blaine and him to this really pretty place where they play in between the trees while the adults sit a ways away on a picnic blanket. It isn't quite a park, Kurt reasons, because there's no playground equipment, and it isn't quite a forest, he thinks, because the area isn't all that big. But it was very pretty and the sunlight shines through the treetops and the sunbeams warm his face.

Kurt stops running because he hears Blaine wheezing behind him, doubled over and he looks like he's in a lot of pain.

"Blaine?" he asks tentatively. "Are you okay?"

Blaine stands up straight and leans heavily against a big, big tree. His breathing still isn't right and his face looks like he's hurt and Kurt doesn't know what to do.

"Do you need me to get my daddy?" Kurt asks quietly. This place isn't a place for loud noises, he's concluded.

"No," Blaine shakes his head, clutching his chest.

"What's wrong, then?" Kurt asks, walking over to stand by him behind the tree, out of his parents' line of sight.

Blaine gets that uncomfortable look that Kurt's getting used to seeing, that one that means he doesn't want to talk about something. But Blaine doesn't sound very good at all and Kurt just wants to see him smile again.

"You can tell me anything. You're my best friend," Kurt reminds him.

At first Blaine looks kind of nervous, and he does that lip biting thing he does when he's about to speak. But then he closes his eyes and seems to make a really big decision.

"It's a secret," Blaine whispers. "You can't tell anyone. Not even your mom or dad."

Kurt's never had to keep a secret before, at least not from his parents. But Blaine seems really serious about this and Kurt wants to know what's wrong.

"Okay," Kurt says. "I promise I won't tell."

Blaine looks around the tree, like he's making sure Kurt's mommy and daddy aren't watching, and then he turns back to Kurt. He lifts the front of his shirt up.

"Oh gosh," Kurt gasps. "Wh-what happened?"

Kurt's staring openly at the various bruises littering Blaine's thin chest and stomach. Kurt can see the faint outlines of his tiny ribs and one of them looks swollen. He reaches out a hand but snatches it back when he realizes he probably shouldn't touch.

"You have to swear not to tell," Blaine says heavily. "You gotta swear it."

"I swear," Kurt says eagerly. He'd keep any secret Blaine needed him to.

Blaine drops the hem of his shirt. "My dad threw a chair at me."

Kurt's eyes go as wide as Bambi's and his little mouth is gaping open. "Y-your dad?"

Blaine nods. "He had a whole lot of beer and he – he pushed me into the wall and then he…yeah. He gets so mad sometimes."

"I don't think mommies and daddies are supposed to throw things at their kids, though," Kurt points out. "Blaine, it looks real bad."

"I know," Blaine says softly. "It hurts, too. Sometimes it hurts to breathe."

"What if something broke in your chest?"

Blaine shrugs. "They won't take me to a doctor."

"That's not right," Kurt deduces. "You're always supposed to go to a doctor when you're sick or hurt bad."

"Well they're not gonna," Blaine states.

"Blaine I…I don't think…I think you should tell someone."

"No!" Blaine says hurriedly. "You promised you won't tell!"

"I-I won't," Kurt tells him. "But you could."

"I don't want anybody else to know," Blaine admits. "I don't want anyone to know that I'm not good." He slumps down to the ground behind the tree, wincing slightly.

Kurt's looking at him like he's got three heads because, hello, why would anyone think Blaine wasn't good? He was always so nice and he had manners and he never picked on anyone at all.

"I…I don't understand," Kurt finally says, sinking to his knees on the grass.

"I yelled at my dad, Kurt," Blaine explains. "He was yelling at me and I yelled back. You're never supposed to yell back. Not ever. So I…I got in trouble. And he threw the chair."

"But…my daddy never throws stuff at me if he's mad," Kurt says.

"Everybody's dads are different," Blaine says wisely. "My dad's just mean."

"Did your mommy see?"

"Yeah. She took me to my room and told me to go to sleep."

"She should've brought you to the doctor."

"Well she didn't!" Blaine snaps uncharacteristically. "And you can't tell anyone 'cause I don't want anyone else to know!"

Kurt recoils visibly, falling backwards onto the grass. His eyes fill with tears because Blaine's never yelled at him, he's never yelled at all. So why was he yelling at Kurt?

"I-I said I wouldn't," Kurt says brokenly, hanging his head. "I won't break my promise, I swear it. I'm sorry."

"Kurt…"

But Kurt doesn't look up, he simply cries, almost silently and he feels like such a baby because he hasn't cried in weeks and weeks except for when he was pushed down at school and scraped his knee up horribly. He hates crying in front of Blaine because Blaine is so strong and calm. And Blaine's his best friend so why does he have to yell?

"I'm sorry," Blaine says softly, crawling over and enveloping Kurt in a gentle hug, making sure not to hold too tight for fear of hurting his chest. "I didn't mean to yell. I just got scared you'd go tell on me."

"B-but I w-won't," Kurt stutters against his friend's shoulder. "I promised."

"I know. I'm sorry, I'm real sorry," Blaine sighs.

"You're – you're still my best friend, right?" Kurt asks hopefully, pulling back and wiping the tears off his cheeks. " 'Cause I don't want us to not be best friends anymore."

"We'll always be best friends," Blaine promises him. "Forever and ever."

Kurt nods solemnly and then he feels Blaine prying his hands off his cheeks and into his own. That calms him somewhat. Blaine's hands in his always made the world feel right.

"We should have a secret friendship thing," Blaine says with a smile. "Something that's just ours."

"Like a handshake?" Kurt sniffles.

"Nah, those are boring. Lots of people have handshakes. Our thing should be different."

Kurt thinks for a moment and then his little eyes brighten. "What about Eskimo kisses?"

"What're those?" Blaine asks.

"It's where you do nose kisses. Like Eskimos. 'Cause they're too bundled up to kiss for real so they gotta kiss with their noses."

"How does a nose kiss a nose?"

"Like this," Kurt says, leaning forward, settling his small hands on Blaine's bony shoulders. He tilts his head down and brushes their noses back and forth against each other.

He pulls away and he sees Blaine sitting there with surprised eyes and his mouth in the shape of a little 'o'. Kurt figures he's probably never had anyone that close to his face before, but they were best friends so they were allowed.

"That's an Eskimo kiss," Kurt tells him.

Blaine simply nods, his eyes still wide. "That can be our secret friendship thing. For sure."

When they leave the pretty place where they played between the trees, Kurt keeps his promise.

"Can't you come into my house?" Kurt asks a few weeks later. "I mean, we've been best friends for ages and ages now. I don't think your mommy or daddy will even know if you come inside or not."

Blaine twists the hem of his shirt between his fingers nervously. "I-I guess."

"Well, they know you come over here like almost every day, don't they?"

Blaine shrugs. "Dunno."

"They dunno where you go every day?" Kurt asks, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"They don't ask, really. I just go. I don't like being at home."

Well, Kurt thinks, if he had a daddy who threw chairs at him, he wouldn't want to ever be at home much either.

"Let's go inside. My mommy makes good lemonade," Kurt says, catching Blaine's hand in his and leading him inside.

Blaine's eyes are darting around the room, taking in everything. Kurt knows Blaine's house is smaller than his, but it's like he's never seen the inside of any house besides his own. Then again, the way his parents are, Blaine probably hasn't.

"Daddy, can we have some lemonade?" Kurt asks his father, who's sitting in a recliner watching baseball on the TV.

"Sure, kiddo. Oh, hi, Blaine."

"H'lo, sir," Blaine greets quietly.

Blaine follows Kurt into the kitchen and Kurt pulls a small stepstool over to the counter so he can climb up and get two cups.

"Your house is really pretty," Blaine says. "I like it."

"Thanks," Kurt says, hopping off the stool. "Here, you hold these and I'll get the pitcher."

Blaine takes the cups while Kurt toddles over to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of fresh lemonade. He pours a bit into each of the cups Blaine is holding and then puts it back in the fridge.

"C'mon, I'll show you my room," Kurt says, waving his hand so that Blaine will follow him down a long hallway. He pushes open his bedroom door.

"Wow, you have so much stuff," Blaine gasps.

"My daddy says I'm spoiled," Kurt shrugs. "But they're the ones that keep buying me things."

"And you have lots of movies and your own TV and…what's that?" Blaine asks, pointing to a small desk covered in beads.

"Oh." Kurt sets his cup down on his nightstand. "I um…I make bracelets and necklaces and stuff sometimes. With beads and string. I like crafts and stuff."

Blaine sets his cup down as well and wanders over to the table. He reaches a hand out and picks one of the beads up, looking it over in his palm. "They're real nice."

"Thanks," Kurt whispers. "Not lots of people like this kind of stuff."

"Yeah, but we're different together, remember?" Blaine reminds him, placing the bead back on the table. "Will you make me something?"

"Uh…sure. What – what do you want?"

"Can you make me a bracelet? Like a friendship bracelet? I'd wear it all the time, every day," Blaine says.

"Yeah," Kurt nods. "I'll make you one."

"But make it a surprise," Blaine says with a smile. "So I don't know what it looks like 'till you give it to me."

"Okay. I will."

Blaine leans over suddenly and hugs Kurt so tight that Kurt's kind of afraid he won't be able to breathe, but Blaine's so warm and nice so he hugs back just as tightly.

"You're the best person ever."

Kurt's not too sure what to say to that, so he just nods against Blaine's head. He doesn't know what he'd do if they weren't best friends anymore. Actually, he was sure he'd die a really awful, painful, terrible, lonely death and it would be really, really bad.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks when his friend lets him go. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, o'course."

"Did your…does your daddy still hurt you? Like when he threw the chair?"

"Um…not for a while. Not since then."

Kurt gives a small smile. "That's good."

"Why'd you wanna know?"

"I just…don't like thinking about you being hurt. It makes my heart feel funny and it makes my tummy hurt," Kurt admits quietly. "I get scared for you."

"You don't have to be scared," Blaine says, taking hold of both of Kurt's hands. "I'm okay. I'll always be okay."

"What if he does something real bad, though? And I don't ever see you again?"

"He won't. I'll always be here. All the time."

Kurt's not so sure about that but he nods his little head anyway.