Kurt lay in bed in the giant New Albany house, his eyes dreamily cast toward the partially opened bathroom door where the beds owner had momentarily disappeared. Blaine came to lean in the bathroom doorway, a toothbrush raised to his mouth in one hand, the other loosely holding a towel in place around his waist. He disappeared again, leaving Kurt to listen to water running in the sink, the sound of a few drawers being opened and closed, and finally he was back. Kurt welcomed the body that slid in under the cool sheets; he pressed his face close to the chest- soothed by the familiar smell. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to smell Crew body wash again without feeling his body temperature rise a few degrees.

Blaine remained mute- no words of wisdom, quick-witted jokes, or carefully constructed compliments- he was content, for once, to remain absolutely silent with one arm looped around the back of his lover, and his eyes on the lazy rotations of the ceiling fan.

Kurt turned his head to kiss the notch above Blaine's sternum, loving the little contour he swore had been created for just such little pecks of intimacy.

Blaine's hand slid up his back slowly, his fingers moving over each vertebrae of his spine, mindless and tranquil.

Kurt had rarely seen Blaine anything but chipper, his disposition most always leaning toward the sunnier end of the spectrum, but something about his mood in that moment seemed so much more…serene than he'd ever seen him. "You seem happy."

"I am," Blaine's mouth touched Kurt's still-damp hair. "More happy than I've been in a long time."

Kurt smiled, basking in Blaine's peacefulness.

"Are you?"

Kurt pulled himself up further on the bed, letting his head come to rest on the pillow beside Blaine's. "Happier than I have ever been."

Blaine smiled and kissed him softly. "Setting the bar a little high for the next three months to measure up to."

"As always, I'm sure you'll find a way to outdo yourself."

"But all I want to do is lay here forever." Blaine protested with a smile.

Kurt leaned over and kissed him again, "Well that's too bad, because it's positively beautiful outside."

"I got all the beauty I need in here." Blaine winked up at Kurt.

"Charming, but not going to cut it." Kurt replied. He had never been content to sleep in, and, even with Blaine beside him, he could feel a familiar restlessness stirring in his limbs. He slid to the edge of the bed and pulled his jeans on and then ventured to the bathroom to search for his shirt. He cringed when he lifted the crumpled thing from the floor. He held it between two fingertips, stretched away from his body, as he re-entered the bedroom where Blaine had remained splayed on the bed, his eyes following Kurt.

"My fashion sense might not be as up to speed as yours, but you're welcome to look." Blaine motioned a hand toward his closet on the other side of the room. "Or you could forget about the shirt and come back to bed."

Kurt dropped the wrinkled shirt down on Blaine's face as he passed him on the way to the closet. He stared into the space, his hands resting on his hips. He'd once organized the space for Blaine by sleeve length and color- a simple system, in his opinion- but Blaine had apparently not felt the same way- whites mixed with reds and blacks and long sleeves stuck out from between short sleeves. Kurt glanced over his shoulder to give the boy in bed a withering look.

Blaine smiled back, Kurt's shirt held between both hands against his chest.

Kurt turned his attention back to the closet and he began sifting through hangers. Blaine's style was far from flamboyant, but his taste wasn't that bad. Kurt settled on a white Lacoste polo. He pulled it over his head and turned his attention back to Blaine. "Now what to do about you…"

Blaine pulled the sheets over his head in response.

Kurt ignored him and turned his attention back to selecting a shirt. He pulled out an army green Diesel t-shirt. Perfect. He strode over to the bed and straddled Blaine's lap.

Blaine pulled the sheets down from his face. "Change your mind about coming back to bed?"

"Sit." Kurt demanded.

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt's tone, but sat up all the same.

"Arms up."

"You're very cute when you try to be authoritative." Blaine grinned but obediently raised his hand above his head.

Kurt pulled the shirt down over his head and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Thank you."

Blaine tipped Kurt onto his back, so that he was now the one on top, "Thank you."

Kurt gave into Blaine's kisses until he felt his hand coaxing his shirt up. He wormed his way out from under the other boy and laughed. "Nice try, buddy. You are not winning this one."

Blaine pouted momentarily before suddenly springing to his feet. "Fine then, out we go."

Kurt followed, hiding behind him a little when the dog was allowed back through the door; its paws immediately went up to Blaine's chest.

Blaine rubbed behind Tucker's ears affectionately, not bothering to force him down. "What do you want to do?"

"Lets go for a walk." Kurt crept out from behind Blaine once the dog bounded off toward the laundry room to get a drink from its bowl. "I never get to see any of New Albany."

Blaine locked the door behind them and they started out down the path in front of the house. "There's a park close by. Wanna go there?"

"That would be lovely." Kurt slipped a hand into Blaine's as they strode out of the neighborhood.

Blaine chatted amicably. Telling Kurt about catching turtles from the pond in the park, dragging the little things home in his wagon, and then having to turn right back around and take them back when his mother saw them. He mentioned falling off his bike nearly a mile into the park and crying the whole time he walked home, dragging his bike, because he was scared he wouldn't be able to make it all the way back with his bloodied knees.

Blaine had kept his promise from earlier that spring- consciously dropping little pieces of himself into conversations to appease Kurt's curiosity. He paused to listen to Kurt tell a similar bike riding horror story (his involved tears over the loss of one of the streamers from his bike handle), his eyes drifting toward the tree tops overhead, casting shaded green light down over them. He had forgotten how much he used to love the park. As they continued on, the trees thinned once again, and an empty children's playground and a vacant baseball diamond were visible some fifty yards ahead.

"Did you play here when you were little?" Kurt prompted.

Blaine nodded; despite its increasingly low position in the sky, the sun beat down hotter on his hair as they left the shade of the trees. "All our park and rec practices were here- my dad shoved me into everything; baseball, soccer, football-"

Football. How could he have forgotten? He stopped his tracks and turned his head instinctively left. His stomach dropped. "Kurt, let's go back."

"What? Why?" Kurt whined. "I want to see the pond!"

"Not today." Blaine's eyes remained fixated as he tried to tug Kurt back to the safe covering of trees.

"Blaine, come on, I-" Kurt followed Blaine's gaze to a group of four boys throwing a football back and forth not thirty feet from them in the short-clipped grass. "Do you know them? Who are they?"

"Kurt. Not now." Blaine tried again, unsuccessfully, to pull Kurt back the way they had come.

Kurt studied the four males in the grass before studying the anxiety on Blaine's face. "They're the ones who bullied you. At your old school."

Blaine's eyes never left the group. "Yes. Please, Kurt."

Kurt made a decision, "No."

Blaine tore his eyes from the field to look at Kurt with alarm.

"You've made me face my demons, now I'm making you face yours. We don't have to say anything to them, let's just keep going."

Blaine looked at him like he thought perhaps Kurt had lost his mind.

Kurt squeezed his hand. "You said you regretted running. Courage, Blaine. Just a little courage; please?"

Blaine hesitated then nodded reluctantly.

Kurt gave him a gentle tug and they continued down the line of asphalt. Blaine's eyes fixated somewhere beyond the playground where more trees covered the path with soft shadows.

As they passed directly by the little group, the chatter between the larger boys stopped, as did the sound of the football being tossed. Kurt felt Blaine's grip tighten and he squeezed back, but continued forward the whole time. They were five feet past them, seven feet, ten feet-

"Well, well, well." A voice sounded off.

Blaine seemed to startle, his feet suddenly unsure of themselves. Kurt tried to steady him to avoid a break in their stride.

"Slow up there, kids, where you off to in such a hurry?" The voice was closer.

Kurt slowed his pace. There would be a confrontation after all. He worked together all his nerves. Blaine had had a slushie dumped over his head by Kurt's current bully, the least he could do in return was stand tall in front of Blaine's old harassers.

Blaine's hand released his, but he stood still beside Kurt. Kurt murmured to him as the four approached. "Brave, Blaine. Be brave."

Kurt studied the boys. One shaved head, one big ugly ginger, one smaller boy, and one mildly attractive jock with a neck thicker than Kurt's thigh. So clich�d. Kurt was surprised though when he realized it was the smallest of the four doing all the talking.

"Blaine Anderson? Is that really you?" The guy looked puzzled, circling both he and Kurt once. He took a step back to murmur something to the red head.

"I think it's him." Chimed the largest man. He took a few steps toward Blaine, reached out a hand and lifted Blaine's chin to tip his face up. He chuckled. "Yeah, it's him all right. Not used to that sweet face when it's not looking up though."

The smaller boy clapped his hands together, smiling. "Blaine! Why didn't you tell us it was you sooner?"

Blaine's mouth remained clamped tightly shut. His eyes unreadable.

The smile slipped. "You really are being very rude, Blaine-y. How long has it been? Two years and not even a nice hello?"

Blaine remained stoic.

The cute-ish one spoke up. "Who's your little friend, Blaine?"

All four turned their attention toward Kurt.

Kurt fought back momentary terror. He straightened up, and appraised the boys before him, he kept his voice cool, indifferent. "Kurt Hummel."

"It's so nice to meet you, Kurt." The boy, only a couple inches taller than he and Blaine, motioned a hand to each of his three accomplices in turn. "This is Mikey, Chris, and Max. And I'm Eric. Eric Marlow."

"Pleasure." Kurt quipped.

The boy, Eric, turned his attention back to Blaine. "Your friend knows how to be pleasant, Blaine. Why can't you be? You used to play so nice with us."

Blaine's mouth twitched a little, but he remained mute.

"Fine, I'll just talk to Kurt if you're going to be like that." Eric shrugged and with the wave of his hand, all four took a few steps closer to Kurt.

"Leave him out of this." Blaine's voice finally broke free- sounding oddly strangled.

"Oh, now you want to chat? I'm so glad." Eric smiled confidingly toward Kurt. "He was always so stubborn. Is he still like that?"

"On occasion." Kurt quipped.

Eric circled around Blaine again, stopping to stand behind him. "But once he decides to be a good sport, everything goes just swimmingly. Right, buddy?"

Blaine had lapsed back into silence, his eyes focused straight ahead.

"You're not being much fun at all, Blaine." The red head (Kurt decided this was Max) complained.

"He's right, Blaine. You're hurting my feelings." Eric looped both hands around Blaine's waist, dropping his chin onto his shoulder. "I hate it when you're mean like this. You know how much I hate it. And I'm shocked you never mentioned me to your new friend, Kurt, over here. After all of our history together, you would think I would deserve a mention to the man you love. He is the man you love, isn't he?"

The muscles of Blaine's jaw noticeably tensed, his eyes darting sideways toward Eric.

Eric laughed, tapping a finger against Blaine's temple. "Of course he is; you don't even to need to say it. I always know what's going on in this head of yours, don't I?"

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, boys, but we really should be going." Kurt had had enough, and the look in Blaine's eyes shook something deep within him. He had to get Blaine out of here, away from them.

"Come on, Kurt, don't be a party pooper." Chris, no longer seeming so cute, frowned at Kurt, "Blaine-y and us go way back, and we're just getting caught up."

"It's true you know; we miss you, Blaine." Eric lifted a hand to turn Blaine's head so their faces were nearly touching. "Do you miss us?"

"Everyday." Blaine's voice was flat and he glared back at Eric. Kurt felt a strange sense of relief at seeing a reaction.

Eric laughed, patting Blaine on the cheek. "I thought so. You know I'd forgotten what a handsome young man you were, B."

Blaine's eyes left Eric's to check on the location of the other three. They stood idly by, watching the confrontation with amusement. Max caught his eye and grinned, nodding his agreement with Eric. "Not much of a smiler, but still a pretty little face."

"It really is too bad you don't smile more, B. You're going to get frown lines." Chris added.

"Boys, boys." Eric frowned at the other three, "Be nice to him, he's just a little on the serious side. Besides, you said yourself, Max, that he's still a looker. Especially with all that pretty hair."

Kurt wanted to intervene, but he felt like he was in a dream where he could only stand and stare as things unfolded. And what was he supposed to say? 'Stop talking about how cute my boyfriend is in that tone?' He watched Blaine's face instead- it remained somewhere between vacant and panicked.

"Yes, all of those curls." Eric straightened up; one hand moved up to Blaine's forehead, his fingers brushing into his hair. Kurt watched as Eric's fingers rubbed along the spot Kurt had so carefully avoided for months.

Blaine finally reacted. He jerked away from the boy behind him, but it was as though the others had been waiting for this moment. Max and Chris moved in, clamping their arms around Blaine's.

"Hey!" Kurt took a step forward, not really sure what he was going to do, but knowing it was time to react.

"Shh, no reason to get upset." Eric's smile was blithe, reassuring. He turned his gaze back to Blaine who was wriggling beneath the hold of the bigger boys. "Blaine, the same goes for you. Settle down."

Blaine's eyes went up to Eric. Hateful. "Eric, God dammit-"

Eric let out a laugh. "Such naughty language from such a pristine little boy!"

Blaine tried again, unsuccessfully, to pull himself free. The look of resentment in his eyes slipped into terror as Eric approached him.

Eric's hand moved back to its previous place in Blaine's hair. He brushed it aside and studied the pink line there, parting Blaine's hair just a little further back to view the whole thing. "You know I really am sorry that had to happen."

Blaine had stilled beneath the touch, his face pale.

"Marring such a perfect face. Such a shame, but it was really your own fault." Eric smiled. "You know, you could look at it as a positive, Blaine-y Boy."

Blaine's eyes met his briefly, but terror had silenced him once more.

Eric studied the scar again; "Think of it as my own personal brand, all for you. A little souvenir to remember your old friends in New Albany by."

"Fuck you." The words fell from Kurt's mouth on their own accord.

Max, Chris, and Mikey all looked at him in alarm. Eric's eyes remained on Blaine's face. He smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Blaine's forehead before smoothing the hair back into place. He turned slowly to regard Kurt.

"My oh my, now I see where Blaine's potty mouth has come from." Eric chuckled, looking Kurt over.

"Enough." Kurt used all his energy to keep any waver out of his voice. He looked past Eric to Blaine who was watching him with horror. "Please. Enough."

Eric looked around at the other three before walking toward Kurt. He circled him, looking him over, smiling, then pivoted around and circled him the other direction. He reached out a hand toward Kurt's face.

Kurt smacked it away and glowered.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't very nice."

"Let him go." Kurt demanded, hoping only he had noticed the tightness in his voice.

Eric's eyes remained on Kurt, but he called back to the other two behind him. "You heard the man."

Without hesitation, Chris and Max released their hold, Blaine stumbled a step away from them immediately. It was only then that Kurt felt a rush of fear. All four were moving in his direction. He stumbled back a few paces, nearly falling over a crack in the pavement.

"Don't you dare fucking touch him." Suddenly Blaine was right in front of him. Kurt couldn't see his face, but he could hear the fury in his tone.

Eric looked surprised for a moment and then he let out a loud laugh. "Well just look at you, Blaine! Defending the one you love, how sweet."

"Daddy, I want to swing!" A small voice rang out from down the path. Kurt twisted around and had never been so happy to see a child. Her blonde waves bouncing as she scuttled down the path ahead of a man and his wife pushing a stroller.

The child glanced up at the pack of boys only briefly as she deviated from the path, making a beeline for the playground.

"Hello, boys; nice night." The woman smiled at them as she approached, oblivious to the situation.

"Beautiful evening." Agreed Eric with a smile.

The husband seemed a little more in tune to the situation. He glanced at Blaine, tensed between Kurt and the pack of larger boys, and then at Eric. "Problem, fellas?"

Eric looked confused, tucking his hands in his pockets. "No, sir, just catching up with an old friend; throwing the football around; all that good stuff."

"Headed out soon." Mikey hitched a thumb in the direction toward the playground.

"Probably a good idea; there' s a little league kick-off practice starting soon. They'll need the space." The man glanced again toward Kurt and Blaine.

"We'll be shoving off then." Eric nodded to the others to follow him down the pathway. "Nice to see you, Blaine!"

The man nodded toward Blaine and Kurt before moving toward the playground where his wife, child, and baby waited.

Blaine turned on his heel and started walking with such deliberant speed Kurt nearly had to jog to keep up with him.

"Blaine," Kurt gasped- he hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, "Blaine, slow down and talk to me."

"Home." Blaine stated flatly, not breaking his stride.

"Blaine, please-" Kurt tried to make himself visible to his boyfriend, jogging in and out of his peripherals, but Blaine's eyes remained focused steadily ahead until the trees once again became more sparse and the twinkle of house lights could be seen breaking the dusk.

As they passed the park entrance, it was like whatever had been pulling Blaine along by some invisible towrope seemed to let go. His toes caught on cracks and bumps that weren't there, he weaved one way and then the other, the fingers of his left hand continuously lifted and dropped from his forehead, but his eyes remained forward. Finally, with his pace so broken, Kurt was able to dash in front of the other boy. He twisted around and grabbed Blaine by the elbows, forcing him to stop moving. Blaine blinked at him a few times; he seemed lost.

"Blaine, hey; look at me." Kurt tried to get Blaine to meet his eyes. "I want to help you. What do you need?"

Kurt could see the paleness of the other boy's face even in the increasing darkness. "I need to throw up."

"Wha-" Before he could finish, Blaine had jerked from Kurt's hold.

He stumbled a few steps into a yard with a FOR SALE sign posted in it. He doubled over, gagging and heaving into the grass.

"Jesus." Kurt murmured, hurrying to the other boy's side. When he placed a hand on his back, Blaine startled, stumbling again.

Kurt held up both hands, "Blaine, it's me, only me."

Blaine's breathing was shallow; the outline of his shoulders shuddered visibly. He stared at Kurt for a moment before nodding slowly.

Kurt took a tentative step toward the other boy. When Blaine showed no indication that he was again going to bolt (or vomit), Kurt reached a hand out to his elbow. "Come on, let's get you home."

Blaine walked slowly, but his feet were less clumsy. Kurt kept one hand just above his forearm, wary of the possibility that his counterpart might suddenly fall. When Kurt could see the outline of his Navigator in the driveway he felt a rush of relief. Blaine seemed to take heart in the sight of home as well, for his pace increased just a little as they turned up the driveway. Once inside, he slumped against the banister of the stairs as though his weight were suddenly too much for him to hold upright on his own.

Kurt turned on the entryway light and locked the door behind them. He flinched when Tucker came bounding in, barking at their homecoming. Blaine's hand went down to the dog, but he did not chatter affectionately at it or scratch behind his ears as he usually did. His hand rested quietly on top of the dog's head. Tucker whined, nudging Blaine's palm with his nose.

Blaine's eyes drifted down to the Lab when it licked at his fingers. "Hungry, boy?"

The dog fell into a play position, barked and jumped back up.

Blaine nodded slowly before trying to straighten himself up. He wavered slightly on his feet.

Kurt caught hold of Blaine's arm gently. "I'll feed the dog. Come sit down."

Blaine didn't argue, he let Kurt lead him into the kitchen where he sank into the kitchen chair he pulled out in silence. Kurt filled a glass with water from the sink and brought it to Blaine. "Rinse your mouth out. I'll be right back."

Kurt searched for the bag of dog food in the laundry room closet. When he questioned Tucker about its location, the dog only nudged his bowl across the floor until it banged against his ankles. After some rummaging under abandoned winter jackets, Kurt was able to retrieve the bag. He rolled his eyes when the dog stuck its face under the flow of food as he dumped it into the bowl. He left Tucker to eat contentedly so he could attend to the other male who needed his attention. When he returned to the kitchen, the glass of water was sitting next to the sink, empty, but Blaine was nowhere in sight.

Kurt moved from room to room, cursing the size of the house, "Blaine?"

The only sound he could hear was Tucker noisily eating a few rooms away, but when he entered the family room he found the sliding glass door ajar. He slipped out onto the deck and felt a little relieved to see Blaine's back to him.

"I didn't know where you'd run off to." Kurt took a tentative step toward the dark haired boy in front of him.

"Fresh air." Blaine murmured. His arms were hugged around his middle, his head tipped up toward the dark night sky.

Kurt came to stand beside him; he tipped his head to gaze upward too. Thousands of little white stars stared back at him. "I know I promised to wait until you were ready to talk about things, Blaine. But I think this is one of those times where you need to tell me something."

Blaine didn't respond, his eyes moved slowly, as though studying some invisible movement above them.

Kurt suddenly felt tears stinging his eyes. He tried to bite them back, but he was frightened. Blaine was happy; Blaine was silly and brave and sexy and witty and strong. Kurt knew Blaine. This person beside him- this frightened, lost, timid little boy with wild eyes- he didn't recognize him. He choked on a barely suppressed sob.

Blaine blinked, his eyes finally moving to Kurt at the sound, his arms dropped to his sides and his voice came out in a murmur. "Tell you something…"

"Just try, Blaine, please. Anything." Kurt's throat felt strangled with the effort to hold back his hysteria.

Blaine's hand lifted up toward his face, but, as though becoming aware of the gesture for the first time, he dropped it back down before it could reach its destination. His eyes drifted back up to the sky. "Did you like stars when you were a kid?"

Kurt glanced at the sky and then back to Blaine, "…w-what?"

Blaine didn't seem to mind that Kurt hadn't answered the question. "I loved them. I had a big book of all the constellations with the stories to go with them. It glowed in the dark."

Kurt waited in confused silence for Blaine to say more.

"I used to try to count them. As many as I could…" He paused, his eyes momentarily scanning the patch of navy above him. "The first time Max ever beat me up, I was nine. My mom cried for hours. She knew what I was I think way before I did, and she knew that's why he did it. Broke her heart. I couldn't let it happen again."

Kurt flinched, remembering his own father's face when he'd received the anonymous phone call in the shop the year before.

"…I was never a very big kid though, so I wasn't very good at holding him off…and when we got older Chris and Mikey joined in on it… I used to lie to my mom, call her from the gas station to tell her I was hanging out at a friend's house and that I would bike home later. I'd sneak in during the news so she wouldn't see me."

Another pause. Kurt hugged his arms around his chest when a cool breeze ruffled his shirt.

"Sometime I had a lot of time to kill just sitting outside, so I'd find all the constellations I could… not that many interesting ones floating over Ohio though." Blaine's eyes drifted, Kurt assumed, over a few of the aforementioned shapes, "…so I started counting stars. It turned into a comfort thing over the years."

Kurt didn't know what to say, not entirely sure of what Blaine was telling him. "How many did you count?"

"It depended on the night…" Blaine's voice was far off, but more his own.

"What's your record?" Kurt turned his eyes back up to the sky, hoping to see whatever secrets Blaine did hidden up there.

"I'm not sure… it never matters how many, just that they're there to count… It's been so long, I'd almost forgotten."

"I'm so sorry, Blaine." Kurt's voice choked and he felt the hot sensation of saline rolling down his cheek. "I shouldn't have made you confront them. I didn't know…"

When the older boy looked back to Kurt, it only made the tears come faster. The eyes were tired, but free from their previous blackened terror. He knew the eyes on him. This was Blaine.

"It's not your fault." Blaine reached out and pulled Kurt to his chest.

The sobs wouldn't stop now. They shook his body. "You t-told me, and I wouldn't listen- and then I just stood there while they tormented you-"

"Shh," Blaine's arms squeezed tighter. "How were you supposed to know I'd fall to pieces, huh? This was my fault, I couldn't confront my demons the way you did I'm just not… strong enough. Come here."

Kurt allowed Blaine to pull him down into the bench swing behind them. When he sank down into the cool cushions, Blaine settled down beside him, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze and used one foot to rock them slowly. Why was he, Kurt, always the one who needed comforting? "You were brave, though. You stepped in for me when you thought I needed it. Again."

"I stepped in because they are my problem, not yours."

"But Karofsky is an issue for both of us?" Kurt retorted.

"David and Eric are not the same." Blaine's voice went flat, his fingers once again brushed at his forehead absently. A new mannerism for Kurt to file away with the rest.

"Why not?" Kurt's voice went soft.

Blaine shook his head. "Just… trust me on this one, Kurt."

"I do trust you, Blaine, but I think I deserve to know things about you."

Blaine let out an exasperated sigh, "We've been through this, Kurt. I try- I've told you what I can, when I can."

"Telling me about counting freaking stars does not count as telling me jack shit! You know you haven't actually told me anything and you lied to me, Blaine! You flat out lied!" Kurt hadn't meant to raise his voice, but it came out in a near shout nonetheless.

Blaine flinched, "Fine… The scar. You want to know the truth about the scar."

Kurt held his breath, but ended up having to release it.

Blaine had fallen mute again; his expression conflicted.

Kurt reached out a hand to Blaine's. His palm was sweaty. "I don't need to know it all right now. Just…give me something."

"Eric, he..." Blaine had to let out a long shaky breath and start again. "It was my freshman year. They…he forged a letter from the soccer coach saying I should meet him in the boys' locker room after school to discuss me potentially playing that season."

"What happened?" Kurt coaxed him in a soft voice when he faltered again.

"…I went, but there was no one was around. I knew something wasn't right, but before I could leave, they were there." Blaine's eyes were vacant as he spoke; his voice trembled. "It was the worst they'd ever done to me…smashed my head against the wall and it knocked me a little silly I guess… I was so confused when I could feel them hitting me, I had seen stars- I thought it was over…"

"Blaine…" Kurt's chest ached for the torment behind those eyes. He tucked an arm behind Blaine's shoulders. When his body slumped against Kurt's, exhausted, Kurt remembered the night on his own family room couch. The parallel was almost eerie, but something felt different about holding Blaine that summer night from the way it had earlier that spring. For once, Kurt reached without inhibition to Blaine's head to trace the raised line of skin gently. Blaine remained still against his side.

Maybe it was just the tension in his arm against Kurt's side, or maybe it was the electrical current that connects two souls at a deeper level, but either way Kurt was sure now. Something was still going unsaid. "Blaine…"

Blaine could hear the whispering too, the unspoken sound of his lover's soul suspicious of his own. "I'm tired, Kurt."

Kurt considered arguing, but he felt the sincerity of Blaine's words. He was tired too. He pressed a kiss to Blaine's temple. "I know."

The two remained on the bench, their eyes directed to the sky until the navy turned lavender, then green, then orange.

It was a new day.