Chapter 20

Song in this chapter:  Taylor Swift – State of Grace

Even though Kurt hasn't slept in this bed regularly in several years, his presence surrounds Blaine now.  As he drifts in and out of consciousness, Kurt is here.  He's wrapped in Kurt's old blankets, lying on his old pillows, snuggling with a stuffed animal that Burt tells him Kurt's had since he was born.  The Tenderheart Care Bear plush is old and worn, but perfectly soft and lumpy.  The burnt orange fur is discolored and stained in spots he doesn't want to think about; the thing is probably full of twenty-eight-year-old spitballs from baby Kurt in the 1980s.  He cuddles it closely to his body and takes his phone out to text his boyfriend goodnight from less than four miles away.  He's surprised to get an immediate response.

Kurt: Goodnight, B.  Come back as soon as you can, okay?  I miss you terribly…

Blaine shoots to sit upward in Kurt's bed.  He's worn out from crying over his college essay and over Kurt's injuries and the fact that he can do nothing to help him right this instant.  He types like life depends on it.

Blaine:  Hi!  How are you feeling?  Are the drugs wearing off?  God baby, I'm not gonna be able to sleep until you come back to me.  Are you in pain?  What do you need?
Kurt:  I need you to go to sleep so that you can be here all day tomorrow without any breaks.  Where are you right now?
Blaine:  At your dad's.  He's really amazing, Kurt.  He's been amazing.
Kurt:  I know, baby.  You're safe there, okay? Don't you dare go back to your dad's.
Blaine:  Don't worry about me, I'm fine.  Kurt, I love you so much. 
Kurt:  I love you, honey.
Kurt:  So I think they have to wire my jaw shut.  There's been lots of talk about a cracked jawbone, apparently.
Blaine:  Fuck, Kurt. 
Blaine:  You're sure you have no pain?  They'll give you more pills but you have to ask. 
Blaine:  I'm surprised you can type coherently.  Are you sure you don't need more drugs?
Blaine:  How are your ribs?

Blaine knows what his father's favorite pastime is.  Besides drinking, making sure that Blaine feels terrible about himself, and punching to watch his son bleed, it's breaking ribs.

Kurt:  No pain right now, baby.  Stop worrying!  They gave me a fake tooth today.  Did you know they had dentists right here in the hospital?  So there's extra pain meds.  Besides, ribs are… fixable.  Jaws are fixable, we'll both be fine I promise.
Blaine:  Get some rest, pretty boy.  I'll be there busting the doors down first thing in the morning. 
Kurt:  I love you, you know.
Blaine:  I know that.  I feel like sometimes that's all I know.  I love you too.
Kurt:  I know you do.  Don't be offended if I can't really talk to you tomorrow.  Love you.

And if Blaine cries himself to sleep out of pure shame and guilt because he is absolutely the reason why Kurt is laid up in a fucking hospital bed right now, then he doesn't tell a soul about it.  He can hardly live with it himself.

xK&Bx

Blaine wakes abruptly at seven, only out of the horror that is his hospitalized, beaten up boyfriend.  His dead cell phone is thrown onto a charger, plugged in immediately, his tired eyes staring at it until it powers up and reveals any missed messages.  Nothing.  He messages Austin and explains the situation as best as he can through a text message, and to please cover for Blaine until further notice – he needs to stay at the hospital with Kurt.  He plans to show his face at the Lima Bean in the next few days, and he promises Austin and Austin waves him off, expecting him to take care of Kurt first and foremost.  Blaine Anderson is nothing if not responsible in crisis mode.  Austin's reply is as expected and supportive, so Blaine showers quickly and heads downstairs only to be startled by Kurt's parents sitting at the kitchen table, discussing the situation quietly. 

“Morning, kid.  Want coffee?  It's no Lima Bean…” Burt trails off and looks up at Blaine's splotchy face and red-rimmed eyes.  He sighs.

“I can… just pick some up at the hospital.  Thank you.” 

“Sit.  It's barely eight and visiting hours aren't until nine.  We'll drive you in when it's time.”

Blaine obliges.  There's nothing he can do.  “Uhhh, Mr. Hummel.  I texted with Kurt last night, he said something about wiring his jaw shut?”  It comes out as a question; it's a hopeful inquiry, a question oozing out to determine how much his boyfriend's father knows about the case.  “Do you know any details?  He didn't really say much more…”

“Mmmm, that's news to me, kid.  Did he say why?”

“Evidently, it's cracked.”  Blaine looks up at Burt, Blaine's eyes burning from the sudden condensation he feels when he really starts to think about Kurt's condition again, and the guilt that he holds for getting Kurt hurt in the first place.  He allows an audible sob to escape, automatically throwing his fist to his mouth to shut him up.  “I'm really sorry, Mr. Hummel.  This is my fault entirely.  I shouldn't have-” He pounds at his head twice and stomps his foot in true adolescent fashion.  “I never wanted to hurt him.”

Burt raises an eyebrow.

“I really, really fucking love your son, okay?  I know that… it's probably wrong and frowned upon or whatever, but it just… It feels right with him, okay?  And I know you weren't thrilled at Thanksgiving, I heard your conversation with him.  And like, I can't blame you for hating me the first time I ever met you, that was seriously fucked up and I'm sorry about that too, and I'm sorry about Thanksgiving and overhearing your conversation with him and all of that, and I'm sorry for shying away from you after that, but I was scared.  You have to know that I can't help my age, and we can't help that we fell for each other.  I can't explain anything properly, I just can't believe I did this to him… shit!”  Blaine is up and pacing through the kitchen, turning on his heel, and throwing himself the opposite way time and time again; this boy is laced with distress and anger and no place to store it.

Burt allows this to go on for a few seconds, silently pleading with Carole to tell him what to do.  He slams his fist down on the table, immediately regretting it when he sees Blaine's body flinch, as if he's about to get knocked out and punched down by his father.  Shit.

“Blaine.  Hey!  I'm sorry.  Sometimes I forget- God, fuck!”  Burt has a grasp on both of the boy's shoulders, trying to still him in any way he can.  “It's probably true that this wouldn't have happened if Kurt didn't know you… but this is not your fault.  Do you understand that?  This is the last time we're having this conversation, do you understand me?”

“You just said it wouldn't have happened if-”

“He wants to know you, Blaine.  Sometimes, I don't get why, and that's not meant to offend you, I'm trying to tell you the truth here and be honest with you because that's what you need.  But I don't have to know why he loves you because the only thing that matters here is that he does, and that you do.  You are all he talks about; it'd be almost annoying if he didn't get that fucking sparkle in his eye at the mention of your name.  I love that you love my son, Blaine, and this is just a setback that you two will get through because you love each other, do you not?”

“We do.”  Blaine deflates and nods.

Burt shrugs and releases the boy from his hold.  “That's all you need.  Besides coffee and maybe a piece of toast.  And a place to stay.”

Blaine nods, once again dumbfounded by the support Burt radiates naturally.  He's never seen anything like it.  “Mr. Hummel, I don't think this is the end of my father.”

“I don't think so either, kid.  We'll figure it out.  You're more than welcome here whenever or until you need.  Or at least until we get that apartment of yours fixed up.”

Blaine flushes crimson at the realization that Burt is aware of and not pissed off that they live together.  Yours, as in your apartment.  Flutters to the heart and butterflies in his stomach are incomparable favorite feelings for Blaine, especially when they are placed there because of something to do with Kurt.

He exists until it's time to see Kurt again, so they all pile into Burt's Mustang and Blaine thanks his lucky stars he's small enough to survive in the seriously tight back seat. 

He thinks he might hear Burt mumble, “The only reason why Mustangs have back seats is for the insurance break.”

xK&Bx

“You break it off with him and you both will be left alone, boy.”

Kurt's eyes are as wide as saucers, pupils dilated and scared.  His arm is reaching to the call button that's just out of reach, not that he can move at all anyway.  His eyes are shifting, scared to death, wishing into the depths of his soul that someone will just come through that door.  Anyone.  Anyone but Blaine.

“If not.  Well, I'll kill him with my bare hands right in front of you.  Pretty boy.”

Tears fall, but his face feels dry.  Somehow, he believes this man is dead serious.  He's shaking his head furiously; apparently his neck is not broken or in the brace any longer.  He's looking directly into familiar eyes, but not identical.  These eyes are too angry; unlike Blaine's, there is not one ounce of love in these eyes. 

“As soon as his faggot ass gets here, you break up with him.  Send him on his merry way.  Tell him he needs to come back home, or else.”

Kurt whimpers and kicks with his unlevered leg at Christian Anderson, who's leaning across his chest to a point that should hurt, had he not been pumped with painkillers only hours before.  Blaine's father flicks his thumb and middle finger to hit Kurt's forehead and slips out of the room.

Kurt's eyes squint all the way closed and he sobs, if only for seconds, thoroughly scared for his and his boyfriend's lives.

The panic attack that follows is the first of many.  He's brought back immediately to the place where it all started.  He's alone, in an alleyway, on the cold, hard ground, left for dead.  He hyperventilates; he can't control his breathing, shallow and raw in his throat, barely surpassing his Adam's apple.  He envisions the men kicking to demolish his ribs entirely, jolting them with purpose to make them a dusty powder that was once a hard shell of bone. 

The nurse helps to shake him out of it.  This is the second one since Blaine and his parents left the hospital, only hours earlier.  He makes sure that his medical records are closed; he can't have them find out about the aftershocks yet.

xK&Bx

Blaine raps on the closed door twice out of respect and peaks in with only his head.  He grins at Kurt when he recognizes that Kurt is awake, staring into space anxiously waiting for visiting hours.  Blaine puts an intricate vase filled to the brim with red and yellow roses on the bedside table and kisses Kurt's forehead.

The only difference Blaine can see when he pulls away is the brace-like contraption glued onto Kurt's teeth, wiring his mouth completely shut.  The neck brace is gone, but has been since last night.

“Hey pretty boy.  Miss me?  I see they decided to glue your jaw shut.  I miss your voice.”  

Kurt smiles softly and squeezes the hand closest to the chair that Blaine finally settles in. 

Blaine continues.  “So I'll just talk for the both of us.”  Blaine smiles at his boyfriend.  He's trying to make a joke.  “Um, well I accidently said ‘fuck' in front of your father this morning.  And ‘shit.'  Help me fix his impression of me?  Put in a good word?  We talked about Thanksgiving, and how I couldn't help falling for you.  It was kind of awkward but at least we're past it now, right?”  There's a beat.  Blaine stares into Kurt's eyes and sighs.  “God, I hardly got any sleep last night after we texted.  I'm so anxious and like, scared that he knows where I am.  I'm so worried he'd hurt more people just for knowing me.  I'm so fucking sorry that it's you in here and not me.”

Kurt hums and squints to try to capture any tears that might escape.  Allegedly, a few fall and Blaine immediately wipes them away with his lips. 

“Hey. Kurt, what's the matter?  You look miserable.  What do you need?”  Blaine rubs his nose against his boyfriend's for one second before Kurt turns his head away. “Baby?”

Kurt waves him off and digs for his phone on the mattress below him.  He types out a message to Blaine and looks at him for a reaction.

Kurt:  My jaw really, really hurts so I can't talk about it right now, but I can't do this anymore, B.

Blaine's phone buzzes in his pocket.  He sits back and opens the text message and looks back at Kurt.  “You can't do what anymore, Kurt?”  He takes Kurt's phone out of his hands and digs for the charger in his messenger bag, reaching behind the bed to plug it in.  He hands the charging phone back to his boyfriend.

Kurt looks down into his hands and cries silently.  His shoulders are shaking and his sobs are escaping now uncontrollably. 

“Hey.  Kurt, come on.”  Blaine sits on the edge of the bed with one knee bent up but one still anchored on the floor to keep his balance.  He rubs at Kurt's forearm and chases eye contact.  “Tell me, Kurt.  What can't you do anymore?  We can fix whatever it is.  I know we were fighting about going too fast before, but… please, what can't you do?  Have you been thinking about this for a while?  Like before… all of this?”  He tilts his head, cupping Kurt's cheek with his free hand, trying to comfort him in any way he can.

“We have to break up, B.”  He speaks now, nearly choking on each word, through clenched and cabled teeth.  There is no eye contact to be had; Kurt's eyes are fastened closed with all of his might.

Blaine squints at his boyfriend, trying to read him.  What could he possibly be thinking?

“Kurt.”

“It's the only way.  We're done.”

“Oh my God.”  Blaine takes his hand back from Kurt's cheek to place it in front of his mouth, effectively holding back a girlish sob.  As Blaine stares at Kurt with wide, shiny eyes, Kurt sits small and shifty, as still as possible, and although his eyes are open now, he's looking at his hands to avoid showing off the truth of the situation.  Blaine thankfully sees right through it.

There is definitely more to this story, and it almost offends Blaine that Kurt thinks he can't read him.  It admittedly takes a minute to comprehend, but when it clicks, it comes shattering down hard directly on his forehead.  He knows exactly who's behind this, and it's the same sad excuse for a man that is responsible for putting the love of Blaine's life in the hospital in the first place.

“What did he say to you?”

Silence. 

“Kurt.  When was he here?”

Kurt resorts back to his text messaging.  His jaw feels like it's going to disintegrate right there in his mouth. 

Kurt:  How do you… Like three minutes ago.

“Son of a bitch.”  Blaine's chair flies backward and he skillfully jumps over it and sprints into the hallway, down the stairs at the end, and out into the parking lot. He runs his fingers through his curls and twirls in place; there's no sign of his damn father.  He looks up to the sky and rolls his eyes away from any tears that might escape.  Fuck!

It takes everything in Kurt to raise his voice and yell after Blaine without the use of his jaw before he starts hyperventilating for the fourth time in the past twenty-four hours.  He doesn't seem to have any control over the panic attacks, although the nurse continues to say that it's understandable and common among assault victims. 

Kurt refuses to think of himself as a victim as soon as the nurse tries to reassure him after he's calmed down yet again.

Doctors and nurses alike fly past Kurt's parents as they rush down the hall and into Kurt's room, nearly spinning Burt, Carole and their coffee supply in a full circle, similar to a cartoon.  Burt picks up his speed but Carole catches his arm at exactly the right moment, holding him back and out of the way.

Blaine returns from an unsuccessful trip to punch his father straight in the nose and sees the commotion, launching into a full run straight off the elevator.  It's Burt's turn now to hold Blaine back until everything is better.

It's a strained day for everyone.

xK&Bx

December

The days are dragging on; there's only so much entertainment within the pastel hospital walls and Kurt might actually die from boredom.  Kurt's been in the hospital for observation for just about a week, and Blaine is forced back into school after the long weekend that comes with Thanksgiving. 

December is finals and bullshit and Christmas break; Blaine's not really paying attention to anything except Kurt's well-being.  His new routine becomes school, stopping by the Lima Bean to make sure all is well with Julie and Austin (Godsends.  They've got it handled every time.), and rushing to the hospital to do his homework in silence with Kurt until they kick him out.  They haven't had a chance to talk about what his father threatened.  It's not comfortable for Kurt to talk, let alone argue, so they don't do much of either.  Blaine is there for Kurt physically and definitely emotionally, should Kurt find he needs him.  Blaine silently decides that he can hold off on the important conversations until after Kurt's jaw is better soon enough, and again Kurt takes Blaine's lead.

Even though both Kurt and Blaine have effectively filed restraining orders against Christian Anderson at Kurt's insistence, Kurt has become completely and utterly obsessed with Blaine's whereabouts, now that he's had to go back to school instead of being cooped up in Kurt's hospital room.  As much as Blaine likes to be accounted for and appreciated, the sixteen daily text messages requesting his location and short sentences just to make sure he's “still there” are honestly freaking him out.  He answers them compliantly to serve Kurt's needs, but he'll never admit just how annoying they've been.  He sort of likes being cared for, as excessive as it's been.

He arrives at the hospital, as he normally does every weekday, always within the four o'clock hour, but never the same exact time dependent on what's going on at the Lima Bean.

“Hey, pretty boy.  How are you feeling?”  He throws his backpack on the floor and sits in his chair.  Taking Kurt's hand, he smiles and kisses the skin above the IV. 

Kurt is sitting taller than he usually is.  Smiling at Blaine, he hums a hello and allows him to kiss his hand.  “Fucking bored out of my mind.  Want you but can't move.  Frustrated I'm still here.  Excruciating pain because I just said three sentences in a row out loud and they tightened the wires this morning and I swear there is one puncturing the root of my tooth or something.”

Blaine kisses Kurt's jaw lightly, with no pressure at all so that he's not the cause of even more pain.  “Should I get someone to look at your jaw?  You don't have to say anything out loud.  Just nod.”

Kurt ignores Blaine's orders.  “They said it's normal to be in pain after it's tightened, but Jesus.”

“I know, babe.  It sucks.  Do you want to text?  We can text or not even talk at all.  Or I can talk and you can listen.”

“Put on Bravo and lie with me.  I don't want to talk anymore.  It hurts.”

Blaine reaches for the remote and flips through a few channels trying to find the particularly requested channel, and looks back to Kurt and shrugs.  Kurt laughs and shrugs right back, watching Blaine's fingers continue to hit the arrow keys on the remote.  When there's a swift knock on the door, they both startle, tensing at the possibility of it being Christian.  Blaine protectively puts himself to sit on the side of the bed closest to the door so Kurt's view of it is partially obstructed.

“Excuse me, boys.”  Burt interrupts.  There are two uniformed men behind Kurt's father.  “These guys have some questions for you two.  We've been pushing them off for a full week now.  They have other cases to handle and really want to talk to you to get yours rolling.”

Blaine immediately scrambles, tucking his ankle under his other leg as he bends both of his legs under him to sit on the bed Indian-style; out of sight, out of mind.  He takes a second to steal a glance at Kurt, equally tensed with eyes only for the police officers. 

“His, um.  His mouth hurts right now.  Can this not happen today?  Please?”  Blaine's pleading, but with no real reason.  Maybe it's just the fact that he's scared shitless. 

“Blaine, it's fine.  I'll power through it.”  Kurt looks at him and nods, licking the infected area on the roof of his mouth and blindly feeling around for Blaine's hand.  He finds it quickly and intertwines their fingers. 

Reliving that night is the worst since Blaine doesn't know any of the details that happened in the alleyway.  They're both crying, and at some point, Blaine creeps up to snuggle closely with Kurt.  The electricity of their skin rubbing against each other, even if it's not sexually, is the jolt of life they each need especially during this conversation.

Blaine looks over to Burt several times, sitting in the corner and crying to himself.  It's the first time that he's seen a grown man besides Kurt really cry, and he thinks it might be alright to be a little emotional, and maybe let a wall or two unfold for Kurt's family, too.  He can tell that Burt cares.

“Is there anything else you'd like to add?” 

Kurt turns to look at Blaine just as Blaine turns to look at Kurt, then toward Burt in an almost-embarrassed fashion.  Kurt and Blaine are so in sync with each other, sometimes it's mind blowing to Blaine:  scary but perfect.  Kurt nods an unspoken encouragement for only Blaine to see, as if to reiterate that he's safe. You're safe here, baby. 

“I… um.  Mmmmm, he used to beat me up.  When I lived with him.”

The follow up interview to this tiny confession is nothing short of nerve-wrenching.  Blaine could not possibly hide any of the tears now spilling out of his eyeballs like the basin at the end of the Mississippi River.  As much of a disaster his appearance must be during the retelling of his childhood, his storytelling skills are nearly perfect and with each word rolling off his tongue, a heavy cinderblock lifts off his shoulder, crumbling into sand.  All the while, Kurt's presence is all he needs.  Burt is there as well, Carole having to go into work a bit early today (she works in the ER and they were especially busy), and it almost feels like Blaine needs him there too.  They'll get through this, and they'll do it together. 

There is an awkward silence, pens dragging across notebook paper at a rapid pace before the officers look back up at each other then to the couple.

“Anything else, guys?”

“He visited me my first morning here.”

Blaine can hear Burt gasp and throw his chair back as he stands to hide his face by staring out the window he is closest to.

The detectives professionally ignore the minute commotion and response to the new details to incorporate into the case.  “During visiting hours and before you filed the restraining orders?  There's not much-”

“He threatened both of our lives if we stay… if we remained a couple.”  Kurt looks down into his lap, ashamed.

“He what?  Kurt!”  Blaine reacts in a way he regrets, jumping up so forcefully Kurt shivers back, frightened.  Blaine quickly calms and reaches out for Kurt's cheek.  “I'm sorry… shit.  I'm sorry.”  He knows that Christian must have said some pretty terrible things to try to break them up, but he never thought a death threat would be one of them.  Looking back, he's not sure why it never crossed his mind. 

Kurt looks at Blaine, then Burt, then to the detectives.  “I tried to break up with Blaine as soon as he came in, right after Christian left.”  There's a faint smile painted on his lips.  “Obviously, he saw right through it and refused.”

Burt speaks up now.  “Kiddo, guys.  That's not something to play around with.” 

Kurt ignores his father, instead squeezing Blaine's hand harder and snuggling a bit closer.  In an almost-whisper, he explains.  “That's why I insisted on the restraining orders.  He called me ‘pretty boy.'  Said that if I didn't break up with you, he'd kill you right in front of me and then fuck me up too.  Again.”  Kurt's voice cracks and he looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Oh, baby.”

Blaine wants to freak out, but somehow does not, not in front of the cops and definitely not in front of Burt.  He can't be arrested for going ape shit in a hospital.  He'd be taken away, never to see Kurt again, and then his own father would have gotten what he wanted all along.  He can't be arrested for seething and grinding his teeth, for turning a deep red from the tips of his toes to the ends of his ears, though.

“Shhh, B.  We'll talk.”  Kurt gives him a pointed look as if to say “Stay calm, baby.  Not now, don't freak out now.”  Kurt's eyes flutter to his in a stern expression telling him to sit the fuck down and shut up.

Blaine does what is subconsciously suggested. 

“How bad is the pain now, babe?”

“Hanging in there.  Gonna need a pill right after they leave.”

The cops are nodding, observing, writing, and whispering to each other before they thank them for their time.  There are implications, they say, given Mr. Anderson's rank within the Ohio court system, his likability throughout the public.  Blaine knows all of this; he understands that this is why it was always brushed under the rug in the past.  This backhanded comment causes more pen-to-paper scratching and writing as if life depends on it. 

“Back to you, Blaine.  You've reported all of your abuse before?”  One of the officers is dying to know.

Blaine squirms at the term, “abuse.” 

“Not officially, I guess.  But they knew.  I know they knew.  We'd have… Christmas parties and stuff and everyone from the firm came by.  It was kind of all really obvious, looking back now.”

It causes another unreadable glance between the two detectives, and another squeezed hand between Kurt and Blaine.  Burt finds his way to the side of the bed, closest to Kurt.

“Okay, so judging by everything you've told us today and the state of the apartment, this would be considered a hate crime.  As you two probably know, though, a hate crime is a moot point in the state of Ohio, so it isn't likely that we would be able to go after Mr. Anderson for anything like that.”

Kurt and Blaine exchange a look and sigh.  This isn't news to them in the slightest, both boys having had to deal with bullies in the past and never being allowed to call it a “hate crime.”

The cop continues.  “Our safest bet is to go with the assault, pain and suffering, as well as child-abuse, assuming that we're able to bring that back even though you've turned eighteen already, Blaine.  I need to check the laws, but so long as we are within the time frame, that could only add to it.  From there, it would be easy to prove that Mr. Hummel was attacked because he is dating you.  It won't officially be a hate crime, but I think it's safe to say that it's how it would look, at least to the people around here who aren't homophobic, and thus would ruin his reputation especially since I know for a fact that he's represented men and women in domestic violence cases against their gay or lesbian partners.”  The cop grits his teeth and rubs his thumb across a ring on his left fourth finger.  “Anyway, your case would turn domestic at that point; it could actually be a loophole into it looking like a hate crime without it being officially classified as one.”  He explains, best as he knows how. 

Blaine is shaking his head.  “I don't think we should bring me into this.  It's one thing to get locked up for beating up a stranger, but I think he would actually kill me if I was the reason to ruin his life any more than I already have.”

Kurt looks at Blaine and squeezes his hand.  “He ruined his own life, babe.”

“Whatever.  You know what I mean.  He already hates me beyond words, why throw fire on top of fire?”

The detective considers what Blaine has said and nods slightly.  “Think about it.  For the record, I think it would help Kurt's case, and it would lock him up for at least a few more years on top of whatever sentence he'll receive for Kurt's assault.  Assuming that the court would be willing to file the paperwork at that time.  It may be too late.  We have to look into it.”

“It has the potential to help Kurt's case, though?”  Blaine's ears perk up at exactly those words, so much so he needs to repeat them.

“I think it would, assuming we can even get your case added.  It definitely wouldn't hurt.”

“And he'd be locked away for a long time?  As in, he won't be able to find me?  Or Kurt?  He won't be able to find us?”  Blaine is aware he sounds like a little kid, but he needs to protect himself and Kurt, so the thought quickly disappears.

“I'm not supposed to make promises kid, and I'm not.  But the chances of your father going to jail for a long time are pretty high.”

“Do it.  Include my history with him in the case.”  Blaine nods to himself and then looks at Kurt.  “I want to make Kurt's case better without risking his life anymore.  Include me, please.”

“Is it difficult to try for attempted murder, officer?”  Kurt finds his voice, although his jaw is throbbing and stabbing with each movement, after all of the talking and explaining.

“We're going back to the precinct now and we'll share all of the information you told us so far.  My first suggestion for you, though, is to get a lawyer.  We have a lot of research to do and will cooperate with your representation as much as we can, but this conversation will be recorded into the police report.  If we were in New York or California, this would be the easiest hate crime conviction there is.  But we're not.  We will try to get him on whatever is going to make him rot in there for as long as possible.  We can promise that much.”  The other officer answers for his partner. 

Kurt and Blaine nod.

They draw back, thank them again, and disappear.  Burt looks at them both for a few seconds, nods, and leaves behind the officers.

“Kurt!”  Blaine punches at the mattress Kurt is lying on and screws his face up when Kurt visibly flinches again.  “Fuck.  I'm sorry.”  There's a beat; two boys, staring into each other's eyes, wishing the other happiness and the deletion of all pain, physical and emotional.  There is a sigh, dangerously in sync, and a tilt of two heads as if the other is a mirror.  Blaine continues.  “Why the fuck would you not tell me any of that?  You just fucking listened to him, did whatever he told you to?  Just like that?”

“He said he'd kill you, Blaine.  You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the exact same thing if he told you to break up with me or else I die.”  Kurt is surprisingly calm and collected.

“Why are you not bothered by this at all?”

“It's not worth it.  They're literally going to arrest him right now and hopefully, we can both move on from all the shit he's put me through this one time, and all the shit you've lived through your entire life, B!  We can't let the things he's done define our happiness.”

“It's not worth it?  Was I ever fucking worth it to you, Kurt?  Jesus!  Are we even… am I even your boyfriend anymore?”  Blaine chokes through tears streaming down his face; his hands find his hair again as he paces in circles next to the window in Kurt's private hospital room. 

“What?  Did you think, all this time… my jaw hurts, baby.  Please.  Let's talk about it later.  But yes, of course we're still together.  I thought I was doing what I was supposed to in order to protect you at the time.  I was willing to give away all of my happiness I've had by being with you so that you can have your life, B.  You have to understand that.  You would have done the same thing.”  Kurt tastes blood on the inside of his mouth.

Blaine looks over at him and nods, visually calming.  He sits at the edge of the bed and takes Kurt's IV'ed hand in both of his.  “Of course I would have done the same thing.  You know that.”

“You can't get rid of me.  Not that easily and especially not because of him.  Do you underst-” Kurt's lips turn upward at the sensation of the tingle felt when rubbing them together after he puts on Burt's Bees as Blaine presses his mouth against his.  It's been one full week since they've kissed, mainly in fear of hurting Kurt's face, and Kurt will be damned if this isn't what it feels like to be coming home.  He opens his lips as an invite but winces when Blaine instinctively jolts his tongue out only to meet the metal of the braces on Kurt's teeth. 

“Fuck.”  Blaine whispers through his small smile, brushing each movement against Kurt's mouth.  Blaine nips at his bottom lip and pulls away. 

Kurt's holding back a giggle as he looks back up at Blaine.  “Don't know how to kiss me without getting dirty, huh?  You're so not innocent, sir.  Raunchy, even.”

Blaine laughs, “There is nothing innocent about me and you, Hummel.”

Kurt hums.  His jaw really is killing him.  “I love you, too, Blaine.  Tell the nurse I need a painkiller or twelve?”

Blaine laughs and reaches over him to press the call button.  “Kurt, are we still going too fast?”

“Mmmmm.”  Kurt looks at him and smiles a small smile just for Blaine.  He mumbles in an attempt to not move his mouth any more than absolutely necessary. “I think our relationship just matured a hundred times by this whole thing.  Whatever I was saying about it before doesn't matter anymore.  I'm yours completely and for as long as you'll have me.  Now stop making me talk.  Seriously, I'm dying.”

“Me too, pretty boy.  Me too.”

“You're dying?”  Kurt smirks and pulls him closer.

“No, asshole.  I'm yours completely.”  Blaine shrugs and kisses his cheek.

The nurse responds to the call with a new dosage, and Blaine backs away without losing eye contact with his beautiful boyfriend.  He sighs, full of relief and sinks into the uncomfortable chair in the corner, allowing the nurse to do what she does best.  He watches her as she checks the inside of Kurt's cheek, cut up and bruised from talking too much.  He slowly drifts, turning to stare out the window and thinking about his fucked-up family and the crazy situation he finds himself in with Kurt.  He grits his teeth and turns back to Kurt to get a breath of fresh air.

Kurt and the nurse are speaking quietly, as though they don't want the words to be audible to anyone but each other. 

Blaine finds it strange, but understandable, as there is a certain level of confidentiality in the nurse's position. 

When Kurt's chest begins to heave up and down uncontrollably, and when the nurse reaches to press the panic button before bending to soothe Kurt again, Blaine jumps to his feet to help.  He's never witnessed a panic attack before, but by the look of Kurt's dangerous eyes and insurgent shaking, Blaine is relatively certain he's seen one now. 

Kurt's eyes leak with moisture as he rocks back and forth, despite the pressure and revolting pain in his abdomen.  His leg is flailing as much as it would if it wasn't injured at all, and the nurse is sternly explaining that he's going to hurt himself even more if he doesn't calm down.  These words don't register with Kurt until Blaine steps in.

“Kurt, baby.  We know you're strong, but you don't have to prove anything.  Lie here with me and let's just relax.  Stay calm, my pretty boy.  Shhh.  I love you baby, love you so much.”  Blaine takes Kurt in his arms, effectively throwing the nurse off of him.

“You… you have to go... he's going to… Blaine, fuck!  Get the fuck out!  Please don't die, don't let him… Blaine!  Out!” Kurt can't speak properly through the sobs, or through the wires for that matter.  He gives up on speaking and lets Blaine rock him gently and with a lot less force than he was doing for himself seconds before.  When Kurt cries himself to sleep leaning against his boyfriend, Blaine struggles to lower the body in his arms to the bed without causing too much pain.  He leaves the hospital room feeling responsible, deflated, and powerless against every emotional issue Kurt will ever have from this point forward.

xK&Bx

Blaine meets up with Burt again and they head home, taking more time than usual on the relatively quick route.  Kurt's father is so nice to have welcomed Blaine into his home while Kurt's in the hospital and while the apartment above the Lima Bean is wrecked. 

Before he's even aware, he's removing his shoes at the front door and heading through the foyer into the kitchen to grab a drink before retreating to Kurt's high school bedroom.  He's exhausted, and if he can sleep for a few hours tonight, that'd be great.  He's not surprised to see Carole at the very end of her dishwashing chore after baking cupcakes. 

“Hey, Carole.”

Carole startles and turns around.  “Hey, sweetie.  You guys are home early. What's up?”

Blaine smiles.  “Sorry.  Didn't mean to scare you.  You're home early too.”  He opens the refrigerator and cracks a can of Diet Coke.

She smiles back.  “They call so many people in when it's busy and then take it back when it slows back down.  I came up to see you guys but you were in with the detectives so I came home.  How's Kurt?”

“His mouth hurts.  They tightened the wires this morning, I guess, so it doesn't feel so great?”  He takes a sip and resists the urge to moan; his lips were so parched.  “On top of all his pain, he had to talk out loud to the cops a lot, and then he wound up crying himself to sleep after a panic attack.”  Blaine sighs, the action turning into a yawn immediately.

Carole sighs.  “He's been having his fair share.  It's a long road to recovery after something like that, you know.”

“He has?”

Carole finishes her task and turns her head to look back at him again.  She's been visiting with Kurt whenever she has free time at the hospital, whether it be in between shifts or in between patients; Carole makes time for her son.  “I can't tell you details, but it's all within the normal amounts after something as terrifying as this.  It's all part of the recovery, sweetie.  I know you want to make him better, but it takes time.”

“I'm trying to help, but I'm scared of pushing him too hard.”

“It'll all be better soon enough, Blaine.  I can promise you that.  You boys have been through the wringer.  Go on up and get some rest.  You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, I skipped the Lima Bean to get to Kurt quicker.  Don't tell the boss.”

“How are you managing with that?  Did Burt find you that bank account number?”  Blaine figured he should start depositing the money from the Lima Bean, as there may not be enough in the account for operational funds.

“No, but it's okay.  There's really not a lot of cash.  I've been depositing the checks with Kurt's phone and according to Julie, the credit card slips have a way of working themselves out.  I'll never understand it.”

Carole looks at Blaine fondly.  “You could ask Kurt.  He'd appreciate you running the place in his absence.”

“He shouldn't have to think about that kinda stuff right now.  I just want him to concentrate on getting better.”

She sits at the table.  “Sweetie, you know that you don't have to take everything onto your shoulders, right?  Burt and I are both here to help with anything you need, especially when it comes to the coffee shop or any other things that you've taken on instead of getting sleep.  You're far too young to be exhausted.  You just ask, okay?  I don't need my other son right up next to Kurt in the hospital being treated for exhaustion.”  She winks up at him, approaches him to kiss his cheek, and turns to go to bed.

Blaine is left standing in the middle of the kitchen with a half-full Diet Coke to revel in the fact that he finally feels like he has a mother.  And a father, come to think about it.  And it's all because of Kurt.  This pushes him even more to be exactly what Kurt will always need.

xK&Bx

This new laissez-faire family has captured a routine that includes a breakfast eaten together every morning followed by a ride from Burt into school on the way to the shop every weekday, or a breakfast followed by a ride to the hospital every weekend.  After school Monday through Friday, Blaine visits Kurt at the hospital after he checks in at the Lima Bean.  He wants to have as much time with Kurt as possible so he modifies his schedule until it's a perfect one.

As time goes on, Blaine reluctantly starts to write himself back into the schedule at the Lima Bean, if only because of Santana's pestering about the police.  Austin and Julie both haven't gotten paid since Thanksgiving, and when Blaine tries to pay them cash from his own savings account, they refuse wholeheartedly.  They insist it be taken care of when Kurt is out of the hospital and not a moment before.  They both reassure him that they are fine financially and it's kind of nice to be forced to be on a strict budget, anyway.  His schedule changes to two times a week closing down the Lima Bean and visiting Kurt for only an hour or two before that on those days only.  The remaining days, he stays until visitor's hours are over and the nurse on duty is pulling at his sleeve to send him home.

Before he realizes what's happening, Blaine starts noticing that Burt is dropping hints left and right that they should get started on fixing up the apartment, not because he's kicking him out of his house, but because it'd be a great project to distract everyone with.  They quickly decide that they'll think about it after Kurt is safe and sound, home and recovering.  Blaine's not sure how he'll have any time to indulge on this new project while waiting on Kurt hand and foot as he plans to do when Kurt gets home, but it's something he's determined to manage.  Everything he does is for Kurt.

Burt puts Blaine in charge of the decorative details; he says he will not be held responsible for any design flaws in Kurt Hummel's world.  Blaine figures it'd be easier for Kurt to forgive the boy who gives him sex than Burt and for this reason only, Blaine agrees to have everything picked out by the time Kurt gets home from the hospital.

Things are almost back to normal, except for Kurt's lack of attendance next to Blaine as he tries to fall asleep every single night to no avail.  It's a constant go-schedule-go of the Lima Bean, the hospital, researching paint colors and new curtains and fabrics that would fit within Kurt's taste, checking in regularly with Santana as both a friend and a kid on probation, and on his backburner: schoolwork. 

The hours in which Blaine should be sleeping are usually spent sitting vertically up in bed, typing away on Kurt's laptop, running through applications to any college in New York he can find.  He hasn't told a soul about this yet; not even Kurt knows.  Blaine hopes that Kurt would consider escaping with him to New York after Blaine's graduation especially after all that's happened in small-town-Ohio, and as he starts to grow tired around three every morning, he succumbs to slipping into a nap with a cold space next to him.  This is every night as of late and he's really beginning to hate it.

He wakes four hours later to do it all over again.

Blaine quickly normalizes the routine and can almost get away with seamlessly managing everything by himself, except that Carole and Burt insist on helping out at the Lima Bean every weekend so he can cross himself off the schedule every single Saturday and Sunday and pick up one shift during the week to technically adhere to his probation rules.  They set a new schedule and it feels really great to have support from parents that aren't even his.  At least until Kurt comes home, it's a nice break to truly catch up on everything he pushes aside during the week.  He spends his weekend mornings sleeping in, making sure he can store enough sleep for the rest of the week.  He casually makes breakfast and heads to the hospital with his schoolwork when he can.  Once all routines are set in order, three weeks fly by like he's a candle in the wind somehow holding on to the flame.

xK&Bx

It's been twenty-two days since that cursed morning after Thanksgiving and only five days until Christmas.  Kurt's finally up and sitting on the edge of the bed that was dangerously close to molding to his body, and he's so ready to get the hell out of this hospital.  He's ready to be shuffled off back home, and although Blaine and Burt have bonded over the opportunity to remodel the apartment, they've told him it's not even close to being ready.  Actually, it hasn't been started and Kurt's not entirely sure if Blaine and Burt will ever really get around to it.  At this point, he's not positive that he could ever return to the apartment over the Lima Bean anyway, so he hasn't pushed it.

According to Blaine, it's only in the planning stages right now, but coming along nicely and it should be ready around the middle of January or beginning of February.  Until then, they are obviously more than welcome to stay with Burt and Carole.  Kurt obliges because it is better this way; Blaine shouldn't be responsible for every little thing during the recovery period, Kurt is sure of that much.  Burt agrees with all of Kurt's reasoning, although the complex thinking process behind it on Burt's part is certainly not because Blaine couldn't take care of Kurt, it's simply that he has more important things to focus on, like graduating high school and managing his quickly piling schoolwork that's been an afterthought for too long.

Also according to Blaine, the charges that were pressed against Christian Anderson were enough to get him arrested and keep him locked up with no opportunity to post bail.  Kurt, always playing devil's advocate, wonders how that could be true if the charges were only for beating up Kurt once in an alleyway and threatening his life if he didn't break up with his boyfriend, not to mention the breaking and entering, since the statute of limitations had come and gone when it comes to Blaine's case of child abuse.  Blaine intelligently explains that because it should turn into a manslaughter/attempted murder case, and although Christian Anderson also beat up his son for years, and they're not allowed to officially count all of that, it might be easier than they think since their lawyer “slipped” by mentioning Blaine's history with his father and the jury will never be able to unhear something as brutal as kicking a fourteen-year-old down a flight of stairs.  (“He may have exaggerated since that just happened like a few months ago, but the younger I was flying down the stairs, the more sympathy… or something.”) Blaine says they might be able to take the domestic violence part to federal court where it could be heard as a hate crime case, and it would go a long way in the court system, especially with the current president, although it's never frowned upon on the streets.  This, Blaine says, could be the start of some real awareness. 

Adorable, passionate Blaine wants to fight on my behalf.  God, that boy.

Blaine looks proud of himself and even giddy for the first time since Kurt's met him as he's explaining the gritty details. 

“Have you ever thought about being a lawyer, Harvey Milk?”  Kurt says with a smirk.  “You'd be the cutest, most passionate activist politician guy with a law degree this side of the twentieth century.”

Blaine tilts his head and smirks right back, mirroring the image of Kurt's face he sees in front of him.  He's always been fascinated by what's lawful and what's not, and punishments and fights to get actions reprimanded or not. He's never thought of being a lawyer, though, because he's never wanted to be something that his father is.

Christian, however, is no longer a lawyer, at least for now.  He has gotten his credentials taken away until the investigation is completed, until further notice, but the newly hired hot shot lawyer from Columbus that Burt has brought on thinks Christian Anderson doesn't have a chance to see sunlight again, especially with his slip of history that's “not relevant” but may have actually bought them the case.  Although equal marriage isn't broadly accepted yet, their lawyer assures them that the jury feels for Blaine and Kurt over Blaine's fire-breathing dragon of a father – official hate crime or not.

xK&Bx

Kurt opens and shuts his mouth, listening for the click behind his ear the doctor said he might hear for the rest of his life with every movement.  He slowly pushes himself up on his good leg, hopping his way to the wheelchair Carole's co-worker is holding in place for him, and he lowers himself, shifting until there's comfort.  The nurse whirls around to the front of the chair to situate the footrest so his leg can elevate.  He opens and shuts his mouth wider this time, just for proof that he can.  He nods to himself in relief and patiently waits for the rest of his family to get there so he can go home.

Blaine nudges at the door, grinning wildly at his incredible, strong, totally fixable boyfriend.

“Hey, pretty boy!  Ready to go home?”

“Oh my God, Blaine, look!”  Grins are seemingly infectious, thank God for Blaine.  He shows off his opening and closing mouth.  His eyelashes flutter.

My boyfriend has no idea how fucking sexy he is.  Blaine loses his bedside manner, forgetting where they are, and plants a hard kiss directly to Kurt's lips in a sincere attempt to bruise them. 

Unbeknownst to either of them in this moment, the nurse is definitely still in the room. 

I never saw you coming
I'll never be the same
This is a state of grace
This is the worthwhile fight
Love is a ruthless game
Unless you play it good and right
These are the hands of fate
You're my Achilles' heel
This is the golden age of something
Good and right and real
And I never saw you coming

Blaine pulls back to stare at Kurt for a second before launching to attack Kurt's face and sticking his tongue in his mouth.  “Mmmm, I love how you taste.”

“Missed this.”  Kurt bites down on Blaine's lip and pulls.

Blaine leans over Kurt, only putting pressure on the arm rests of the wheelchair.  The majority of his weight is still leaning on his own feet as his eyes gaze down his boyfriend's body and he sighs.  “Jesus, baby.  You lost so much weight, you're so tiny.”  Apprehensively drawing a horizontal line with his fingertips across Kurt's lower stomach, Blaine plays connect the dots and the dots are each of Kurt's pointy, underweight hip bones.  He lowers his voice.  “I am so going to break you, later.”

Kurt gives him a pointed look that turns into a grin, “Mmmm, liquefied everything for weeks.  Bring me to pizza?”

“That, we can do!”  He steps back and out of the way so the wheelchair doesn't run over any of his toes.

The nurse rolls Kurt out to the hallway where Burt and Carole are waiting, having patiently given the two their privacy. Blaine slings Kurt's bag over his shoulder and bounces out of the room, never to look back again.  He shoves the bag all the way behind him and takes Kurt's hand, kissing it with all the love he has to give. 

Burt laughs at them and slaps Blaine on the shoulder.  “What'd he say?”

Blaine looks up at the tall and semi-intimidating man.  He's not scared anymore.  His grin grows to eat his face off.  “Pizza.”

Kurt laughs, blissful in this moment of absolute happiness and acceptance into the family.

xK&Bx

Burt's already called in the order at Breadstix for take-out.  After a few challenging minutes of trying to get Kurt comfortably situated in the back seat of his Navigator, he winds up sideways with his forced-straight leg resting longways on the seat, his foot elevated on Blaine's lap.  Blaine wishes he wouldn't lean on the door so roughly, but it's the only option they have for now. 

Burt whirls carelessly into the parking lot and pulls on the door's handle to exit. 

“Really, Dad?”  Kurt saves his face before it smashes into the back of the front seat's head rest. 

“Oh!  I'll get it, Burt!”  Blaine opens his door and smiles at Kurt.  He slips out from under his boyfriend's injured leg and rushes to the door. 

The entire family watches Blaine escape the cold, rushing inside the restaurant.

Kurt's the first to speak.  “Burt, huh?”

Kurt's parents laugh, synchronized and simple.  “And I'm finally Carole!”  Carole adds, grinning from ear to ear.

“Good.”  Kurt forces a smile, stretching out his good leg, and rests his casted ankle on top.

“You okay, kid?”  Burt turns around to face his son. 

Kurt nods.  “Everything just hurts, or is at least sore.”

“You just focus on getting better.  Me and Blaine will take care of everything else.”

“How's the coffee shop?”

“It's fine.  We couldn't find any checks from your account so you'll have to give one of us the account number so we can go deposit all the cash from the past few weeks.  Blaine's been taking care of it all during the week and we handle it over the weekends.”

“He came to the hospital after school, though?”  It comes out as a question; Kurt can't fathom how a high school senior has such a full plate and still manages to stay awake.  He finally understands what Blaine's been going through for him and feels bad.

“He's been handling a lot, sweetie.”  Carole pipes in and smiles at Kurt.  She reaches for his hand and they have a moment.  “But nothing he can't handle.  We're taking good care of him, too.”

“God, that boy.”  Kurt closes his eyes to keep the tears in.  “He's been okay?”

“A joy to have around, honey.”  Carole smiles.

Burt's laugh echoes through Kurt's heart and they wait for Blaine to come back with the pizza for several silent minutes.

Blaine quickly but carefully slips in after handing off their dinner to Carole in the front seat and gives Kurt a confused look when he mouths “love you” to him.  Kurt takes his hand and squeezes, wiping his eyes from inevitable tears.  When Blaine catches wind that he's crying, he swipes the padding of his thumb against Kurt's cheeks and they share a moment of willing themselves into the depths of the other's soul.

They make their way back to the house and Kurt is sure that he has the absolute best support system as his boyfriend and his father both hover over him to confirm that he's sure and steady on his crutches.  Once he's in and safe on the couch, Blaine runs back to the car for his bag.  When he comes back inside, Burt already has two slices and goes to his office to “answer emails.”  Carole needs to catch up on her reading assignment for the book club meeting tomorrow.  Kurt's grateful that his parents don't smother him anymore like they did in high school, and especially now that he has Blaine to be with.

Blaine's taken to the caregiver role quite nicely, plating a slice for each of them and finding bottles of water and rushing back to Kurt's side.  “Hey, lover.  You good?”

Kurt hums in response and bites into his pizza.  “Catch me up on what I missed in the real world.”

“Like what?”

“Dad said you went to the Lima Bean every day?”

“Most days.”  Blaine says with a shrug.  “Turns out I'm amazing at scheduling.  And storing cash in boxes under our bed upstairs.”  At Kurt's face urging him to go on, Blaine continues, “I didn't have your bank account number, and I didn't want to bother you until we knew you were all okay, so I have a couple grand right upstairs.”  He nods his head toward the ceiling.

“What about the checks?”

“Hacked into your remote deposit app on your phone every time you were sleeping.  There were only like four of them.”

“Credit cards?”

“Julie took care of everything else.  She's amazing.  She's…” he shrugs, “she should be promoted.  Austin was good too.  I couldn't have done it without them and your parents.”  He smiles.

“I'll take your comments into consideration, my little personal assistant.”

“That's assistant manager to you.”  Blaine's chomping away at his pizza and glances over at Kurt.  “Best pizza ever?”

“You have no idea.” 

Blaine grins, purposely showing some chewed up food sitting on his tongue, and laughs at the crinkle of Kurt's nose and the fierce closure of his eyes.  It's exactly the expected reaction Blaine needed to feel like things are almost normal again.

He inches closer to Kurt and smiles through the inhalation of his slice of pizza.  All is very close to being right in the world.