Blaine didn't know how long it took him to get up from where he was lying on the floor, one hand clutching the cheek that was searing from the aftermath of the punch that he had received from his dad, and the other one his cell phone. The tears streaming down his face weren't from the pain in his cheek; he had grown used to that by now. He had stopped crying over the assaults a few months ago; his dad thought crying was an act of weakness, which made him even angrier. The only thing to relieve him from the physical pain now was to scream into his pillow until his throat ached.

But this time it did get to him, the tears that kept coming were real, were present because once again his dad had ruined a good thing in his life. First his mom, then Dalton and his friends there, and now Kurt. Kurt, who had been great to him from the first time their eyes met, someone who could have meant so much to him. He could only imagine what Kurt must be feeling right now. But what is Blaine supposed to say when Kurt calls him out on the text, or asks him why? It's not like he can tell him about his abusive father. Can he? And then what? Blaine's mind was racing with thoughts to make things right. To convince Kurt that he was still willing to be friends, to meet up with him for coffee the next morning like the text originally read, before his dad deleted Blaine's words and replaced them with his own. But he just didn't know how.

His reverie was interrupted by his dad's stomping, boisterous footsteps, indicating that he was coming downstairs again and was still not in a good mood. He was hardly ever in a good mood, when Blaine stopped and thought about it.

Blaine straightened up where he was leaning against the kitchen counter and heard the door of the living room close loudly behind his father. He didn't hesitate for a moment. He fled out the door and practically ran to his car, put the key in the ignition and drove.

He drove out of the driveway and didn't look back, his mind going over all the options in his head.

He wasn't going back to his dad's house, not tonight. He needed a place to stay and a place to think and be alone without the fear of being punched and beaten at every single moment that passed.

Names and faces flashed through his head, all his friends from Dalton, all his family members. But there was only one that stood out: Kurt. He wanted to see him, apologize and ask him to please listen to him and believe him when he tells him that it hadn't been Blaine who sent that text. Blaine drove until he reached a park where he stopped and parked his car before jumping out of the driver's seat, closing the door behind him and locking his car. He walked until he reached the swing set and sat down, glancing around him until he was sure no one else was around before he threw his head back and let out a deafening, blood curdling scream. He then turned to punch the wood that held the swings until his knuckles were scratched and bleeding. God! He hated his father. He would always loathe him and just wanted him to get out of his life. He wanted to leave his father behind and start a life of happiness and security, not the life of pain and self-hatred that he was living now. The constant insults yelled at him had destroyed his confidence years ago; he could never be proud of himself anymore. He needed someone to help him get back up again. And he was positive that Kurt could be that person. Someone that Blaine had dreamed of, and even more, he was perfect in every way: witty and sarcastic, but generous and kind, all at the same time. He was also gorgeous and his eyes made everything around him look dull and insignificant. Blaine felt like he could drown in the blue color and the way Kurt's eyes shone whenever he laughed, which he seemed to be able to do when he was around Blaine. It had taken one day for Kurt to settle into his heart, and Blaine wasn't going to let his dad rip Kurt away from him, not now, not ever.

Blaine took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. He hadn't made tons of friends today, but meeting Kurt had given him access to a new group: the Glee club. He immediately felt at ease with them and had talked with some of them that day, including Mike Chang, who had given him his number. He called Mike, who answered on the third ring.

'Hey, Blaine. What's up?'

'Hey, Mike. I need to ask you something.'

'Sure man, ask away! Do you need help with English or something? French? Math?'

'No, no, Mike! It's nothing like that. I was just wondering if you could tell me where Kurt lives.'

'Oh, of course.'

Blaine's lips turned up in a grin as he sprinted towards his car and memorized the address that Mike sent him.

He pulled into the driveway of the house, recognizing Kurt's SUV and Finn's Chevy Truck. He removed his key from the ignition and gently rested his hands on his steering wheel before taking a deep breath and getting out of his car. He walked up to Kurt's front door.

He rang the doorbell and started rocking back and forth on his toes in a nervous manner, his hands clasped together tightly in front of him, his gaze fixed on his feet. When he heard someone opening the door, his head shot up and he came face to face with a man with a baseball cap and a menacing look on his face.

He looked at Blaine, his face set in a confused frown.

'Hi boy. What can I do for you?'

Blaine felt the tension slip in his muscles before unlocking his hands and extending his hand to who he assumed was Kurt's father to shake.

'Hello, Sir. I'm Blaine, a friend of Kurt's. I came to talk to him about something.'

The man shook Blaine's hand and looked at him distrustfully before speaking in a gruff tone.

'I'm Burt. I'll call him up.'

'Thank you, Sir.' Burt then turned around and yelled Kurt's name. Blaine heard a door open and footsteps walking up a staircase. Burt nodded to Blaine before disappearing through a door that led to the adjacent room. It was then that Kurt came into view and stepped into the doorway, his eyes set on the door through which his dad had just disappeared before turning to Blaine.

Kurt's eyes widened before he took the door in both hands and tried to slam it shut in Blaine's face who all but threw himself at the door to stop it from closing.

He saw how Kurt's eyes were red rimmed; it was obvious that Kurt had been crying and for Blaine to know that he was the reason, it was unbearable. When Blaine didn't budge, Kurt sighed and opened the door again, his vulnerable posture had disappeared and was replaced by a bitch glare that made Blaine cringe.

'What do you want, Blaine?' Kurt said, his voice hard and the usual twinkle in his eyes that Blaine had put there that day, disappeared.

'I just want to explain, Kurt. Please.' Kurt's eyes softened for just a second before he his mask of indifference returned.

'And why would I do that, Blaine? Just by sending me that text, you've made it clear that you're no different than all the other Neanderthals at our school.' Kurt's voice broke but his face didn't show it. It was obvious that he was hurt and Blaine hated knowing that Kurt was upset and that it was Blaine's fault.

'I didn't send that text, Kurt. I swear to God. I'd never do anything to hurt you. You're amazing. I would never call you stupid or insult you…' Blaine took a deep breath before muttering, 'I think you're beautiful, actually.' while looking back at his feet, shuffling them across the ground apprehensively. He heard Kurt taking a sharp breath and heave a deep sigh. When he looked up at him, Kurt was looking at him thoughtfully, worrying his lip between his teeth.

'Will you tell me who sent that text to me then? Because you know, clearly. And it was sent from your phone.' Kurt looked at him inquisitively. Blaine thought for a moment, fidgeting his hands for a few seconds and turning the idea over in his mind. If he would come clean about his abusive father to someone, it would be to Kurt. So, yeah, he decided that he should probably just tell Kurt about it, about everything. He opened his mouth to speak up, but his fidgeting hands caught Kurt's attention and he looked at them aghast. Blaine then remembered that his knuckles were still covered in blood. He was trained to not let the physical pain get to him. He had learned to ignore the pain. He lifted one of his hands to touch his cheek, that he knew would still be red from the hit. But lifting his hand was a mistake because Kurt followed the movement. When he looked at Blaine's face intently, he became even paler than he usually was, and looked horrified. His eyes flickered to the still visible bruise in Blaine's neck, and realization dawned on him.

'Oh God, Blaine. What happened to you?' Blaine felt his eyes well with new tears again. His voice trembled when he tried to reply, but the tears started flowing down his cheeks. The only sound that escaped his throat was a sob. Kurt looked at him for a moment before his face softened completely and he stepped forward to envelop Blaine in a warm embrace. Blaine clung to him like he was the only bottle of water in a dry desert while sobbing brokenly and repeating apologies to Kurt. Kurt was shushing in his ear, telling him to calm down. His hand rubbed in circles at the small of Blaine's back, while Blaine was held onto the fabric of Kurt's T-shirt tightly, trying to ease his sobs and tears. Kurt's arms around him made him feel better, but it just made him cry more. It was in that instant that he realized how broken he was because of his father. He believed every insult and still carried every punch or kick he had ever received with him. He remembered everything that made him into the crying broken mess in Kurt's arms right now, and it was that realization that made it impossible for him to stop the tears from falling.

Blaine felt Kurt tugging at him and pulling him inside. He heard the door closing behind them, and a door nearby opening. He then heard Burt's harsh voice.

'So, what did that Blaine kid w- whoah!' Blaine looked over Kurt's shoulder, just to see Kurt's dad standing there with eyes wide, looking at them worriedly. His vision blurred with fresh tears again. 'What's going on?' he demanded when Blaine hid his face back in Kurt's shoulder and continued shaking with every sob escaping his body.

Kurt cleared his throat before speaking. 'Blaine just needs a friend right now, Dad. Can I talk to you later?'

'Sure, Kurt.' Burt replied, walking back into the living room after looking at the two boys clinging at each other once more.

Kurt then released Blaine, who whined and tried to keep Kurt close. He needed the warmth, needed to feel what it was like to be cared for, to have someone caring about him. He needed Kurt.

'Shh, Blaine, sweetie,' he said, the endearment causing Blaine to stop fighting to get Kurt's arms around him again and to look up at him. 'Just let me take you to my room, okay? I'll nurse your hands and we'll talk.' Blaine nodded, took the hand that Kurt extended towards him with both of his and followed Kurt down a flight of stairs that led to Kurt's basement bedroom.

Kurt seated him on his bed before tugging his hand free. He let out a soft chuckle when Blaine made grabby hands, and disappeared into the adjacent bathroom to get the things he needed to care for Blaine's hands. Blaine pulled his knees to his chest and started rocking back and forth, trying to keep the tears from falling again, but failing miserably. By the time Kurt returned he was faced down on the duvet of Kurt's queen-sized bed, his soft sobs barely audible.

Kurt sat down next to him and pulled him up and into his arms again, before reaching for Blaine's hands, setting them in his lap and gently cleaning the wounds while Blaine kept crying softly against his shoulder.

Ten minutes later, the tears were still being shed, but Blaine's hands were wrapped in bandages, a cool ointment calming the scratches that the wood had left on his knuckles. Kurt's hand was currently against his cheek, a cold washcloth currently pressed against the red flesh. Kurt's lips were against his forehead and he was whispering calming words, his lips moving gently across the skin.

After another two minutes the sobs eased and he was finally able to control the tears. Blaine cleared his throat and looked up at Kurt apologetically.

'I'm sorry that you had to see my crying fest, ' He said, his voice raw from crying. Kurt removed the washcloth from his cheek and laid it on the towel next to him before cupping the side of Blaine's face delicately.

'I'm here to help, ' He simply whispered, his face only mere inches away from Blaine's, causing Blaine's breath to hitch.

'Thank you, Kurt, ' Blaine whispered back before throwing his arms around Kurt's neck again.

'Can you just hold me for a little while longer?' he asked softly.

Kurt smiled and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist, his hands linking together at the small of Blaine's back.

'Now you're just taking advantage of me, ' he said playfully, trying to make Blaine feel a little better. It worked; he elicited a chuckle from the boy enclosed in his arms.

'Maybe I am, but what are you going to do about it?' he relied in a challenging tone.

'I will stop holding you if you dispute me, ' Kurt said.

'I'll shut up now, ' Blaine said with a small smile.

'Good, ' Kurt kissed Blaine's forehead softly. They both froze, Kurt had did it without thinking. It just felt like it was the right thing to do in that instant, and he surprised himself when he actually did it.

'I'm sorry, ' Kurt whispered against Blaine's curls.

'Don't be, ' Blaine lifted his head up and kissed Kurt's cheek, causing Kurt to blush a faint pink.

They both smiled at each other before they moved up the bed a little and settled down against the headboard, with Blaine still pressing firmly against Kurt's side, his head on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt's arm still wrapped around his waist securely.

'So, will you tell me what's going on now?' Kurt asked in a hushed tone. Blaine panicked a little at his side.

'It's a long story, ' he said, shrugging a little.

'Just tell me, ' Kurt insisted.

Blaine snuggled closer to Kurt who simply dropped another kiss to his hair, causing Blaine to relax a little before sighing softly.

'Okay.'