Blaine didn't want this. Blaine hadn't wanted to start a fight with Kurt.

He hated fighting with his boyfriend. He loved him so much that it literally ached inside ever time he was cross towards the other boy. But here he sat, on his bed with his head in his hands, shaking his head. Regretting the day before.

Kurt was just being so secretive, even more secretive than before and Blaine couldn't handle it. As Kurt's boyfriend, he felt obliged to make Kurt's life bright and happy. It was his job to get the boy smiling everyday in the way that caused Blaine's stomach to flip-flop. Now no matter how hard he tried, Kurt's face stayed in the same down trodden stare, like everything had been ripped from his life. Like a child who woke up on Christmas morning only to find nothing under the Christmas tree. Blaine hated that look, and now it wouldn't go away. He tried his best, but the most he got out of his boyfriend was a quiet chuckle or a minuscule smile that barely pulled at the corners of his lips.

Then confronting the boy happened and then everything spiraled out of control. He didn't mean for it to go so far, for him to yell at the boy who had shrunk in on himself and stood dejected before him. He just wanted to be able to touch and kiss and hold his boyfriend without him pulling away or flinching, even moving his hands forcefully away at times. Blaine stayed as gentlemanly as possible, going at Kurt's slow pace, but when Kurt was writhing beneath him, his face flushed, it was hard not to control his hips or hands. Then Kurt would be across the room, shivering against the wall, and Blaine would feel like he messed up.

Like he forced Kurt too far and too fast.

He hated that feeling. It churned at his stomach, gnawing it's way up his throat.

So he had confronted him and ruined both their lives. He had pushed Kurt away, telling him it was over. Kurt hadn't done anything, he stood across from him, his arms wrapped around himself. Blaine could almost literally see the walls closing behind his boyfriend's eyes. Keeping him out even more.

Just the thought caused Blaine to whimper, his fingers clawing through his dark curls. He had forgotten to gel them this morning, and now the feeling of the soft curls between his fingers caused a sharp ache somewhere in the cavity of his chest. Kurt loved when Blaine left his curls un-gelled giving him something to play with, to run his hands through. He constantly scolded Blaine when he gelled his locks back.

For the last two days he had wanted nothing more than to pull that boy in his arms and never let him go. But it was over now and it was because he had to yell. All he wanted to do was help.

His phone rang, knocking him out of his thoughts as he glanced over at the phone on his nightstand. He reached over, taking a deep breath before hitting the 'answer' button. "Hello?" Damn, his voice still shook slightly with the suppressed sobs.

"Hello? Blaine?"

Blaine's eyebrows pulled down as he looked confusedly into the room. Why was Finn calling him? He was sure that Kurt would have told everyone what had happened and they'd all hate him, even then Finn never really was a big fan of Blaine. He barely ever spoke to him so why call him? "Finn? What's up?"

"Nothing, I was actually just heading out with Rachel-" Blaine's chest ached as he thought over how Kurt and him would probably have joined them in their escapades. "-but I was hoping you'd do something for me?"

"And that would be?" Blaine drawled. Finn liked to take his good old time getting to the subject, but at the moment Blaine really didn't have the patience for his words.

"Well, I know you and Kurt into quite a large fight. And I don't know if you guys broke up or not, but Kurt's been really down an moping around the house. Burt's been keeping a watch on him and my mom has been keeping an eye on him and all. But my mom went back to the hospital and Burt's at the shop-"

"Finn," Blaine interjected, sighing as he rubbed circles into his temples with his thumb and pointer finger, "just skip to the favor, please."

"I was hoping maybe you'd check up on Kurt. He's been up in his room all day and I worry about him..." Finn had let everything fall silent as Blaine worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He was probably the last person Kurt wanted to see, but he also really needed to apologize. He needed to be able to hold him in his arms again- if Kurt took him back. "Blaine?"

"Yeah-" Blaine said, startling himself back into reality. "I'll go check on him in a little bit. The spare key-?"

"I think it's still on the windowsill."

"Okay, thanks."

"No, thank you. Kurt's been way too depressed for my liking. He really needs you... Ever since the fight-"

"I get it, Finn." Blaine said, sighing as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "I'll go over in a bit. Say 'hi' to Rachel for me."

"Will do, 'bye."

"Yeah, 'bye," Blaine hit 'end' and stared at his phone. He still wondered how much Kurt had told him, but it surprised him to even know Kurt told him. Kurt never told anyone anything. He instead would subside into himself and close everything off, keeping everything inside.

Blaine dragged himself off his bed and pulled on a pair of sweats, slipping on his old Dalton sweatshirt. It was October, just beginning to get cold in Ohio. Soon the snow would begin to fall and everything would be beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to make everything right so Kurt and him could have their first Christmas together.

He had slipped on his casual black Vans as he called out to his mom, his voice echoing in the large house to let her know where he was going. His mother appeared in the hallway, her wet hands twisting a towel. She gave him a sympathetic smile, "Goodbye, Hun. Don't stay out too late."

Blaine loved how optimistic his mom was. Even though he had explained what had happened and how it was all his fault, she still believed Kurt would take him back. She was so cute at times.

The drive to Lima was antagonizing. He spent the ride with the radio off, his fingers tapping off a beat on the steering wheel. He constantly checked himself in the review mirror, his hands constantly dragging through his curls. He looked like a mess, and being clad in the lazy attire didn't help; he just didn't want to put in the usual effort today.

He pulled into the driveway, his eyes scanning over the modest two story house. So many memories swirled around this quiet home, causing Blaine to absolutely adore it. Even more than his own large home.

He got out of his car, finding his way to the windowsill of the window closest to the door, his fingers searching against the glass till they bumped the cold metal. He picked up the key, turning to unlock the door, hurrying into the house to get away from the cold breeze that was seeping into his clothes. He rapped his knuckle against the wood of the door as he closed it, the key placed in his sweatpants pocket. He got no answer as he walked farther into the house, everything so quiet. He's in his room, Blaine thought, hurrying to the staircase and taking two steps at a time up to the second floor. He was biting his lip as he walked down the hallway to Kurt's room, his heart in his throat as he thought over what to say. He needed to apologize perfectly, to make Kurt believe him or else he would never get this chance again. The wood of Kurt's door was now against the palms of Blaine's hands, as he hung his head for a moment, his eyes closed in thought. He curled the fingers of his right hand and knocked on Kurt's door. When he got no answer, he knocked again, louder this time while calling softly, "Kurt? It's Blaine."

Still no answer.

This is weird, Blaine's brow furrowed as he grabbed the door handle and twisted, the door popping open effortlessly. He leaned around to look into the room, calling Kurt softly. He began to panic as he stepped onto the carpet and didn't see Kurt anywhere. His bed was perfectly made, everything put away as always. The last place to look was his bathroom, which Blaine's eyes were settled on now. The door was closed but he could see the glow of yellow light at the crack at the bottom. He made it to the bathroom door in a couple long strides, his fingers wrapping around the door knob, his other hand knocking against the wood. "Kurt?"

No answer.

Blaine twisted the knob and pushed at the door; it didn't budge.

It was locked.

Blaine slapped his palm against the door, still rattling the doorknob. "Open the door! Kurt!" He was yelling again as he pushed at the door that still wasn't giving way. He stepped back and braced himself, shaking his head at himself for what he was going to do. His luck Kurt would be in the shower and just not hearing him, but he didn't hear any water running...

Blaine rushed at the door, placing his shoulder against the wood, grunting at the impact. He heard a crack and the door swung open, slamming against the wall. He ran into the room, stopping as he hit the tile.

Suddenly he was in a dream. The sight before him couldn't be real. It just couldn't.

Kurt was on the floor, his back against the wall. His knees were pulled to his chest, one of his wrists now resting on the floor, the razor covered in blood and laying on the floor.

And the blood. It was all over. It covered the boys pants and shirt, pooled around him; soaking his socks and wrists that were slashed multiple times. The red contrasted against the white of the tile floor sickeningly well, bright and just there.

Blaine felt bile rise up his throat as he took in sight, but it only took a few seconds for him to react. He slid across the floor, the sick feeling of the blood seeping into the material of his sweat pants making his stomach turn. "Kurt!" he yelled, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and shaking him, only causing his head to flop back and forth. Blaine's eyes burned with unshed tears as he pulled the boy toward him and against his chest. He was so cold.

"Kurt, come on. Come on," he muttered, pulling away and pulling off his sweatshirt, wrapping it around Kurt's wrist after examining the deep gashes. He pulled off his shirt next and tied that tightly around his other slashed wrist. He fumbled in his pocket, Kurt's body leaning against his chest as he got a hold of his phone.

Everything was rushing and spinning around him as he called 911, then Finn. He was sobbing by the time his phone slipped out of his blood slicked hand and hit the floor, laying in the large puddle of blood. What if he was too late?

He couldn't be. No. He couldn't. Blaine clutched to Kurt, soaked in his blood as he sobbed into the boy's brown locks. He ran shaky fingers through his hair, murmuring softly as if he could hear him. His eyes continued to let tears spill out as he looked at his hands, his stomach churning at the sight of the red liquid. What else could he do? What else could he do?

It seemed like forever till men began to rush into the room. Everything spun as Blaine was pulled roughly away from Kurt, and pulled up to his feet. He tried to look back at his boyfriend, not noticing that he was still crying silently.�

"He's in shock." Blaine heard the voice but couldn't match it to anyone he knew. A pair of hands clutched his shoulders, causing him to look around and at the middle-aged man in front of him. He was gazing at Blaine with wide, but stern blue eyes. Blue eyes... Kurt had blue eyes.

The grip on his shoulders tightened as he felt his knees go weak. The man was talking but Blaine couldn't hear and wasn't listening. He just wanted to make sure Kurt was okay.

"I need to go with him," Blaine mumbled.

"Son, you're soaked in blood. It'd be best to get you in new clothes and bathed before you go anywhere," the man spoke, watching Blaine, his stern gaze softening.

"No, no. He's my boyfriend. I have to- no. Let me go. Please." Blaine suddenly clutched at the man's arms. He began to beg, he couldn't let Kurt go through this alone. "Please, please, let me go with Kurt."

"I can't let you-"

"Please!" Blaine yelled, pushing against the man's chest, causing him to stumble back.

"Now, young man!"

"Kurt can't go alone, he won't know what to do, he'll be scared when he wakes up," Blaine stepped around the man and followed the trail of blood drops as he hurried down the stairs an outside. Kurt was on a stretcher being lifted into the ambulance.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry but only family is allowed to go."

"No!" Blaine yelled out, shaking out of his grip and running to the vehicle. "Please, let me go." He cried as he saw two men step out of the ambulance. "Please, he's my boyfriend and I need to be there with him. His dad or brother won't be there fast enough. Please."

The men looked at him for a moment, one of them glancing at the man at the door. One nodded, a man with red hair and a slight mustache; Blaine noticed so he'd remember to thank him, and motioned to the open door. "Be careful and don't touch him."

"I won't, just thank you, thank you," Blaine spluttered out, pulling himself into the vehicle. He sat on a bench, his knees bent too close, �almost touching the stretcher Kurt was laid out on. Blood was still seeping into the material of Blaine's sweatshirt and shirt, causing Blaine to wince at the amount he was seeing.

A man appeared, sitting by the stretcher, shifting around to grab machines and medical things that Blaine couldn't name in the flurry of moments. "I'm Donathan, you can call me Don, though."

Blaine blinked, noticing that the man- Don- had held out a hand. An oxygen mask was placed over Kurt's mouth, helping him breath as Blaine glanced up. He shakily reached out and clasped his bloody hand with the paramedic's equally bloody one and shook it quickly before retracting his hand right away. "'M Blaine." Blaine muttered, curling his arms around himself and looking down at his blood soaked knees.

"This is very scary, I know, but you have to hold it together, you got that? If your boyfriend makes it out alive, I need you to be able to be strong for him and not break down. He'll be confused and in a lot of pain and seeing you cry won't help."

Blaine nodded, before widening his eyes and glancing up. "Wait- if... If he makes it out alive? You mean when he wakes up. Right?"

Don's eyes softened as he looked at Blaine, "Blaine, I don't want to lie to you. This boy here-"

"Kurt. His name is Kurt."

"Okay, Kurt, has cut deep and hit a major vein. In not only one arm, but both. He has lost a lot of blood. And these-" his fingers touched the sweatshirt, "-are helping keep him alive at the moment. But he has a very slim chance."

Blaine's mind suddenly went fuzzy as he stared at the man. He began to shake, his eyes burning before tears began to roll down his cheeks. And it was all his fault. All his fault that Kurt had went and killed himself.

"Blaine? Son?"

"I-I-" Blaine struggled for breath as he blinked multiple times, trying to clear his vision. Then suddenly everything went black, and Blaine slumped over on the bench.

�� � � �

Blaine was standing in the waiting room when Finn and Burt came running into the hospital. Blaine hadn't changed, still in his blood soaked clothes, even though multiple hospital personnel asked him to change so he wouldn't make anyone in the waiting room uncomfortable. But Blaine had been too numb to try and change and he wouldn't allow anyone to touch him when he had awoken. The older man pulled Blaine right into his arms just as Blaine burst into a fresh round of warm tears. He clutched at Burt, his fingers balling the material of his coat. Finn stared at Blaine wide-eyed, his eyes drifting over his body, the �blood caked clothes.

Carole showed up after a minute, still dressed in her hospital garb. She hurried over to Burt who was still holding the shaking boy. "Blaine... Honey..." she murmured soothingly, eyeing the bloody boy. She patted Burt's arm and he let go reluctantly to let Blaine fall into Carole's motherly arms. Burt's face was red as he watched the exchange, Finn clasping a hand on his shoulder as he watched a tear roll down the aged man's face.

"Where's the doctor," Burt said gruffly, going over to peer into the empty receptionist desk. "This is a hospital for God sakes. There should be people here to talk to us!" He was yelling as he slammed his palm on the desk. A lady in the waiting room jumped and slid down in her chair, hiding her face behind an old gossip magazine.

"Burt, please," Carole hissed, narrowing her eyes at her husband.

"Burt," came Blaine's shaky voice as he straightened up and stepped out of Carole's embrace. He curled his arms around himself, sniffling as tears streamed silently down his cheeks, making clean streaks in the blood. "They have Kurt back there checking his w-wrists. They may have to do st-stitching and things... And- and-" Blaine's hand slapped against his mouth as he lurched towards the small trash can in the corner.

Finn winced at the sound of Blaine gagging into the wastebasket. Burt's eyes stayed fixed on the desk, growling softly under his breath. Why wasn't there a women here? Where was the god damned doctor.

Carole was kneeling on the floor beside Blaine, her hand resting on his upper back as he continued to retch, dry heaving once his stomach was empty. He stayed leaning over the garbage, his eyes clenched shut. "Blaine, I'm going to go get you clothes and ask to use a staff locker room. Stay here."

"And get a god damn doctor out here to tell me about my son!" Burt bellowed as she swerved around the desk and around a corner and out of sight.

"Wait..." Finn muttered, his brain working slowly to take everything in. "Stitching his wrists- wait? Did Kurt-" Finn's jaw worked as he thought over his answer. "Did Kurt c-cut himself?"

Blaine tensed at the garbage can, feeling his stomach heave again at Finn's words. Burt looked at Blaine and nodded once for Finn to understand. Blaine began to gag into the wastebasket again as Finn made a face. He looked around the room, taking in the poor figures who were slumped in the chair having to deal with the catastrophe going on.

Carole came back to the room, clothes bundled in her arms and two women following close behind. "Advantages of working at a hospital," she said quickly as she passed Burt.

"Where's the-" Burt began before he was cut off by one of the women.

"He's in the room with your son, sir. He cannot talk at the moment."

Burt narrowed his eyes at her, before sighing and taking off his ball cap to run his hands over his bald head.

"Blaine, come on. Let's get you changed," Carole said soothingly as she rubbed soft circles into Blaine's back. Blaine pulled back from the wastebasket and stood up, Carole handing him the clothes. "I'll take you back to the locker room and help you. And no protesting-" Carole stated, holding up a manicured finger to silence Blaine as he opened his mouth. "I'm not leaving you alone at the moment."

Blaine was defeated as he let his head hang. He felt Carole's firm hand against the small of his back leading him out of the waiting room.