Kurt steels himself for the week. He had hurt Blaine’s feelings with his comment about friends, he knows that. And even though Blaine is doing his very best to act like it was never mentioned, Kurt can still see that tiny glimpse of pain in his eyes whenever they’re at school. Even to this day, Kurt hates to think about the kind of lonely person Blaine was before they met. It’s heartbreaking. There’s no other word for it.

And Kurt had promised, at least he had promised himself, that he would make things better for Blaine.

As such, he finds himself strolling into the choir room on a Thursday afternoon, much to the shock and horror of the majority of the Glee club, save for Rachel. He squeezes Blaine’s hand, thankful that his boyfriend had made the decision to join as well.

“Mr. Schue, what’s going on?” Tina asks from her seat in the back row of the room.

“Guys,” Mr. Schue begins, “we have two new members joining us today. Or, well, one sort of new and one brand new.”

“You can’t be serious,” Artie says lamely. “Like, as in, you’re joking.”

“Not at all,” Mr. Schue replies, gesturing to Kurt and Blaine who stand timidly beside the piano. “They want to join the club.”

“I’m not really…one for conflict,” squeaks Mike Chang, who had quit football in order to be in Glee with his girlfriend, Tina, “but – I just – I mean, you remember what he said to Mercedes.”

“He was awful,” Susie Lewis agrees. “Just awful.”

“Guys, they just-”

“It’s okay, Mr. Schue,” Kurt interrupts, looking properly miserable. “They have every right to say I can’t come back.”

“Kurt, it’s not their decision,” Mr. Schue whispers lowly.

“It is, actually,” Kurt states. “I did them wrong. Especially Mercedes. I know that. But I just want – I want the chance to at least say that I’m sorry. And to show that I’ve changed. We – both of us – would really like the chance to be part of your family. Personally, it was my second home. And I kind of want to come back to it.”

The club meets Kurt’s speech with wary eyes and shared glances. He’s almost positive that they’re going to turn him down on the spot, even the new members he doesn’t recognize and the old ones he only barely remembers, until Rachel finally pipes up.

“I think we should at least give him the opportunity to apologize,” she says.

“You’re just saying that so you can get cozy with his brother,” Artie counters.

“We need all the members we can get,” Rachel snaps. “Besides, there’s no reason Blaine can’t join, even if we decide we’re not going to let Kurt in.”

Kurt’s stomach heaves at the thought of Blaine being accepted into the family he once loved so dearly, only to leave Kurt out of it entirely. He feels like the black sheep, like the wayward son who ruined the family name. There’s also a bit of guilt in the back of his mind for thinking that he deserves this because he used to be one of them, while Blaine doesn’t know them at all.

He wants to cry. When did he become this wretched person inside?

“Well, I guess they can sing,” Tina relents.

The others give a final nod, though Kurt notices that Mercedes never says a word nor meets his gaze. It almost makes him feel like this isn’t worth it at all. The hostility in the room, every last ounce of it, is directed toward him and it makes his skin crawl.

But he opens his mouth and begins to sing anyway.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice
Dug my way out, blood and fire
Bad decisions, that’s alright
Welcome to my silly life

Blaine takes over, just as they’d rehearsed, each line important to them in its own right.

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss-No-Way-It’s-All-Good
It didn’t slow me down
Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated
Look I’m still around

And they join in together for the chorus, entwining hands as Kurt stares directly at Mercedes who has finally given him the slightest chance.

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than, less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you are perfect
To me

They continue to sing, taking turns with the verses that speak to them and give so much in return. At one point, Blaine stands in front of Kurt to say, “They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair,” and he’s so passionate about it. Kurt can remember when Blaine gave a tearful admission regarding his appearance, and the memory causes his heart to break all over again. When they end the song, they’re standing side by side once again, staring hopefully into the faces of the club members. Mercedes is biting her lower lip in contemplation. Tina looks like she’s near tears. Rachel looks to be about two seconds away from giving a standing ovation.

“Well?” Mr. Schuester finally asks his students. “What’s the verdict?”

Artie turns out to be the only one willing to speak on behalf of the group. “It was a touching apology,” he admits freely. “I’m still not sure if the trust can be re-built, not after everything that happened before.”

Kurt inhales, the sound of his breath a bit shaky, but he nods.

“I understand,” he says softly. “Thank you for letting me sing.”

He turns, expecting Blaine to follow.

“W-wait,” Blaine says nervously. “You go and – just wait in the hall. There’s something I want to say.”

“Blaine, you don’t-”

“It won’t take but five minutes,” he tells Kurt, his eyes going soft. “Just wait for me in the hall.”

Kurt sighs, nodding once more as he shuffles through the choir room door way, closing the door behind him. He expects Blaine will ask them if he can still join, or maybe he’ll tell them that he won’t join without Kurt. Either way, it’s still bad news all around. Before, he had been extremely apprehensive just thinking about walking into that room and seeing everyone’s faces. They have every right to disallow him re-entrance, especially after the things he’d done and said. But now that he remembers what it’s like to just – just stand up and sing your feelings when there’s entirely too much to be said, Kurt realizes exactly how much he misses Glee club. He misses their family. He misses fighting with Rachel for solos and he misses gossiping with Mercedes before class started.

It had been a light in his life.

He stares down at his Cheerios uniform, wondering if he ever felt that way about the cheerleading squad. Nothing was ever done in good spirits, he realizes, not with them. It’s always about self-importance and cruelty, even when they attempt to comfort each other.

It isn’t the same.

And now…he feels like he doesn’t belong anywhere at all.

The door opens. Blaine pokes his head out.

“Come back in,” he urges, offering his hand to hold.

“What-”

“Just come on,” Blaine says.

Confused as hell, Kurt places his hand in Blaine’s and allows his boyfriend to tug him inside once more. They stand in the center of the room. Kurt notices that Mr. Schue is sitting off to the side, a grin on his face.

Artie wheels over in front of them.

“Based on Blaine’s testimony and the obvious talent that both of you could offer this group, we, the New Directions, hereby formally offer you both a chair in this choir room. And a place in the club, of course.”

Kurt blinks rapidly, ears still ringing from the statement.

“But – testimony, what-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rachel interrupts, dragging Kurt to sit down next to her. “You’re in. Both of you.”

“What did you say?” Kurt asks, turning to Blaine when he sits down as well.

“Nothing much,” Blaine says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I just reminded them how awesome you were.”

Kurt stares in awe and his wonderful, marvelous, fantastic boyfriend until Mr. Schue appears in front of them.

“Here you go,” he says, giving them each a copy of sheet music. “Welcome to New Directions, Blaine. And Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home.”

Insides melting at the sound of the phrase, Kurt shoots his teacher a grateful smile. He notices, out of the corner of his eye, how reverently Blaine holds his copy of the sheet music, like it means something more than just notes and keys and lyrics.

Kurt places his hand with just as much reverence atop Blaine’s knee.

“You go ahead,” Kurt says when rehearsal comes to an end. “I’ll meet you at your locker. I need to talk to Rachel really quickly.”

“You sure?” Blaine asks. “I can wait outside.”

“It’s fine,” Kurt promises, planting a kiss to Blaine’s temple. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Blaine shrugs and heaves his backpack onto his thin shoulders before picking up his sheet music and holding it close to his chest.

“I was really proud of you today,” he says softly, looking up at Kurt from beneath his pretty eyelashes.

“I was proud of me, too,” Kurt admits, just as quietly.

Blaine ducks his head shyly. “I’ll see you.”

After Blaine leaves, the rest of the club is still taking their sweet time in packing up their belongings and Kurt pulls Rachel aside.

“What did he say earlier?” he asks plainly. “To convince them to let me back in.”

“It was nothing bad,” Rachel tells him. “All good things.”

“I get that, but I didn’t expect them to let me back in here in a million years,” Kurt notes. “So he must’ve moved mountains.”

“He just told everybody what they didn’t realize. He said he saw the changes you went through and watched you struggle and he said he was the only one to really see you fall from grace, basically. He saw how bad you felt about everything you’d done and he begged everyone to give you a second chance. No one’s perfect, he said, but he thought that you saw this group as the closest thing to it. And he said you thought of us as family.”

Kurt stood very still, stunned at the thought of Blaine sticking up for him so ardently. If it hadn’t been for Blaine’s compassionate nature, Kurt wouldn’t be here right now. In fact, he wouldn’t be a better person than he used to be, had it not been for Blaine.

He’s going to have to do something very special for his boyfriend in return. He owes him a lot.

“Thanks,” Kurt says meekly, not sure what to really say in reply.

“You picked a good one,” Rachel says with a wink.

She leaves him then, leaves him standing a little bereft and shell-shocked, in order to speak to Mr. Schue. Kurt shakes his head free of his muddled thoughts and grabs his bag in order to leave.

Just as he’s about to walk out the door, a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Kurt?”

He spins around, surprised to see Mercedes standing behind him.

“I just – I wanted to say welcome back,” she says, doing her best not to look away or seem too awkward. “I’m really glad you came back.”

“Me too,” Kurt says honestly, smiling kindly at his old friend.

“See you tomorrow?” she asks, hope in her voice, like maybe she’s afraid Kurt will bail on them.

“See you tomorrow,” Kurt assures.

She nods, almost decisively, and turns away, allowing him to leave. As Kurt walks toward the locker hall, he can’t help but smile to himself. Things are looking up in life.

Things looking very ‘up’.

Until he turns the corner.

As he stares down the massive length of the locker hallway, time seems to tick in slow motion on his end. The scene at other the end of the hall plays at its original speed, whereas Kurt’s body and his shout of indignation seem sluggish and stalled.

There, at the end of the hall, two large boys, both clad in letterman jackets, have Blaine pressed harshly against the row of lockers. His heavy backpack sits open near his feet and one of the boys is currently shoving a thin stack of papers in Blaine’s face.

“Please, please let me go,” Blaine whimpers in fear, his arms pinned at his sides.

“You’re all the same,” one of the boys says. “All small and pathetic and queer and you all join that stupid fucking club.”

“And now you’re gonna wanna sing your gay on the rooftops,” the other says, holding up the papers.

“Please don’t!” Blaine shouts weakly.

His pleas go unheard. As Kurt’s legs finally unlock and he begins to sprint down the hall at a breakneck pace, the boy rips the papers to shreds, scattering tiny pieces all over the floor. He rips and he rips and Blaine starts crying and the scene in front of him seems like it walked right out of Kurt’s nightmares.

“Let him go!” Kurt demands loudly, body colliding with the boy still pinning Blaine to the lockers, subsequently knocking them all to their feet.

“What the – Hummel?”

With a strength he didn’t even know he possessed, Kurt punches the guy square in the nose. The other boy grabs Kurt by the arms with his meaty hands and tugs him off his friend.

“Let go of me!” he shouts, twisting his limber body until the boy loses grip and Kurt is free. “Get away from him. And if you ever touch a hair on his head again, a broken nose is going to be the least of your worries.”

“I don’t fucking get you! You used to laugh at kids like him. What team do you even play for anymore, Hummel?” the uninjured boy spits while his friend attempts to stave off the blood pouring from his nose.

“His,” Kurt says in a hard tone, narrowing his eyes as he crouches down to Blaine on the ground. “Now go. Away.”

The boy with the broken nose seems to want to avoid any more injury, and he tugs on his friend’s jacket until they’re racing out the doors of the school and Kurt and Blaine are left alone in the hallway.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks desperately, running his hands over Blaine’s tear-stained face, knocking his glasses askew in the process. “Did they hurt you? Are you-”

“The – the music,” Blaine whimpers, prying himself out of Kurt’s grip. He begins gathering the shredded pieces of paper into his palm. “They tore up my music.”

“It’s just sheet music, Blaine,” Kurt reminds him gently. “You can share with me or get another copy.”

“No, this was mine!” Blaine cries angrily, voice cracking in the middle of his sentence.

He continues to sweep the bits of paper into his hand. His sniffles echo in the empty hallway and Kurt doesn’t understand, he just doesn’t. It’s only sheet music. It’s just paper. So why is Blaine acting like this is a life or death situation?

“Babe,” he attempts to say softly, “I’ll make you another copy.”

“But this was my copy,” Blaine replies, sounding broken and weak, fingers trembling as he continues to gather the shreds of music from the ground. “He – Mr. Schue gave it to me and it was mine and they – they-”

“Blaine, it’ll be okay,” Kurt whispers, placing a warm hand on Blaine’s back.

“No it won’t,” Blaine says miserably, his entire body trembling now.

“Stop it,” Kurt orders, tugging on Blaine’s arm. “Come here. And tell me what-”

Blaine begins to sob, like those sobs you cry when something hurts you so bad in your heart that it actually feels like you’re breaking inside. He allows Kurt to pull him to his chest, though he still cradles the pieces of sheet music in the palms of his hands.

“I never – I’ve never been a part of something,” he sobs. “I’ve never belonged anywhere. I’ve never – and then I joined Glee with you and this was – this was all I had. He gave it to me. Mr. Schue gave it to me and I wanted to keep it and they took it from me.”

“Blaine, honey-”

“It’s like I’m not supposed to have anything,” Blaine continues through his cries. “Like I’m not supposed to have anything good or nice and I had to fight so hard for you and now I’m going to have to fight for this and why can’t I just – why can’t I just belong? Don’t I deserve something good?”

“You do,” Kurt assures him, holding Blaine to his chest and kissing the top of his head. “You belong right here with me and you deserve everything.”

“But-”

“No,” Kurt interrupts. “Remember what I said? I want to give you everything. And I will. I’ll get Mr. Schue to give you another copy of the music tomorrow. And I’ll punch anyone else who tries to take it away from you.”

Blaine nods against Kurt’s chest, his sobs finally dying down. Kurt thinks back on what Rachel had told him about Blaine defending him in the choir room. It isn’t fair. Blaine is nothing but good wrapped up in a tiny little package with a shiny red bowtie and it isn’t fair that he’s been conditioned to think that he can’t have anything good.

Kurt won’t stand for it any longer. In the past, he’s been too weak and too scared to fight for what he truly believes is right. But Blaine, sweet, kind, tiny Blaine is a cause he can stand behind. He’s a person that Kurt can be proud of and fight for.

And he will fight.

“…Did you really break that guy’s nose?” Blaine suddenly thinks to ask.