Blaines forehead rumpled at the sound of scratching beside of him, and he gasped when something soft fell on the side of his head. His lowered lids flew up, giving him a look at the white thing that was on top of him. Through his muffled ears, he could hear the voice of one of the many princesses that Kurt adored-he couldnt tell which, though. Worn out after long days of running around with Kurt, who seemed to have endless energy to spend on all kinds of games, Blaine had retired to the couch and curled himself into a small ball so he could snooze for a few hours, while Kurt sat in front of the TV and watched his favorite movies. But his peaceful sleep was suddenly disturbed when another pillow whacked his leg, making him finally sit up to figure out why he had become a victim to a pillow fight.

Blinking his crusty eyes, Blaine glanced down at the floor, where a small house seemed to be being built. On the floor, a few white pillows had been propped up against each other, and, for a roof, a thin blanket rested on top of them. Through a tiny window, a pair of blue eyes peered out at him, and when their gazes met, the eyes scrunched at the corners, and then they ducked, but Blaine could still see a few locks of blond hair. Rolling onto his side as he tried to understand what Kurt was up to now, Blaine scooted off of the couch and knelt in front of the little house, trying to see through the window that was just big enough for him to poke his nose into. Those blue eyes reappeared, and this time Blaine could see a pair of pink lips that had curved into a smile, and he heard a squeak, "I built a house!" Kurt said, as if he was so proud of himself, "Do you want inside?"

Blaine looked around for a door to get through, and as he frowned when he wasnt granted immediate entrance by the convenience of a doorway, Kurts eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Theres no door!" He cried, pressing on the pillows that formed a wall, but none of them budged. Tapping his chin as he tried to figure out how to let Blaine in, Kurt looked up at the ceiling, and his grin broadened. Pushing up on the blanket, Kurt revealed a secret passageway into the house, and he peeked above the edge of the wall. "Hurry, Blaine! We dont want intruders to see our secret entrance!"

Getting to his feet, Blaine awkwardly threw a leg over the wall, then he stumbled the rest of the way in and fell onto his butt. After he was on the blanket that made their floor, their roof was quickly lowered, and Kurt plopped beside of him. In their small house, the two of them were squished side by side, not an inch given for wiggling. "Welcome to our home!" Kurt peeped, tossing his arms around Blaines neck. When they pulled apart again, Kurt twisted around as if he was searching for something, "Now we need to decide how to decorate it. I want to paint it pink!" Clapping his hands with excitement, he bounced on his butt a few times, but was quickly interrupted by thudding footsteps coming from outside of their home. He put his face up to their window, and even though Blaine couldnt see who was outside, he heaved a quiet chuckle when Kurt threw his hands out of the window and waved them like a madman. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Hi, Kurt." Blaine heard Burts low rumble, followed by a snort of laughter, "What are you painting, honey? Whatever it is, Im sure I wont want it to be pink." When Kurt made a face at him, Burt quickly put in, "I dont want any faces. Remember when you painted my boot with your moms nail polish?"

Kurt scrunched his nose at his dad, "Daddy, I didnt know that was your boot." Putting his hands on his hips in defense, Kurt decided to stop bickering with his dad on what he was going to paint pink, and he held his hands out in front of their home, "Daddy, this is mine and Blaines home! Isnt it pretty? Look inside!" Wriggling away from the window, Kurt smiled as his dad lowered to his knees so he could see through the window.

His dad glimpsed around the entire interior, which was piles of white fluff, and he gave his son a smirk, "This is good, Kurt. I like your house. Youll have to invite your mom over so you two can hang some pictures and... do whatever you do to make things pretty. But no paint. I wont have a pink blanket on my bed." Rolling his eyes when Kurt stuck his tongue out at him, he turned his head over to Blaine, who scrunched himself into a corner. Shaking his head at Blaine, he reached inside and scrubbed his hair, "Isnt he too crazy for you? How do you put up with him?"

Blaine gave Burt a small smile, getting the same back from him before he pulled out of the house, "Ill have dinner ready soon, you two. Kurt, be good to my blankets. Blaine, if you see him pull out any nail polish, Im trusting you to get it away from him. Deal?" Nodding his head, Blaine watched Burt smile one last time, and then he got back up to his feet and walked somewhere that they couldnt hear his footsteps.

Shuffling back around to Kurt, Blaine kept his eyes on those little hands as they smoothed a wrinkle out of one of their walls. Kurt wriggled on his bottom until he was facing Blaine again, and Blaine helplessly relaxed at the sight of those shimmering, playful eyes. Too beautiful to be Blaines, Kurt couldnt have possibly wanted to have a home with Blaine, but he seemed comfortable like that, snuggling deep into the blankets that surrounded him. Stretching out his pale legs, Kurt draped them across Blaines lap, and Blaine gently laid his hands on those wrinkled knees and rubbed them. Sighing at those slightly rough hands that tenderly touched him, Kurt laid his lashes on his cheeks and sank into the blankets, "One day, well have a home." For several seconds, he was silent except for a quiet purr from his throat, but then one blue eye popped open again, "And it will be pink!" He insisted, making Blaine laugh as he thought of how happy he would be in a bright pink home, always beside of Kurt, just like how they were forced to be in this home.

Hunter had never been so tired, not when, in his old home, he was given a warm bed to cuddle into, a best friend to snuggle with, a daddy to tuck him in, and a père to sing him to sleep. Now he was left in a cold room where he could only shiver but never sleep because, no matter how he wriggled and wrapped around himself, he could never get warm enough. So, after another long night of nothingness, Hunter pulled his knees out from under his shirt, which was thicker than the blanket he laid under, and he slid off his bed and onto the pile of blanket hed kicked off the first night hed arrived here because it was smothered in a stain that reeked of sourness. He knew he had to get out of there. He couldnt live like this anymore. Even though hed taken a bath yesterday, he still felt so dirty, and he smelled like those sticks that Karofsky sometimes stuck between his lips.

His stomach wouldnt stop growling, a constant gurgling because he hadnt had a meal in several days. When he did eat, he was offered a few carrots, but Karofsky kept saying that he couldnt have more until he got his first paycheck. Hunter hoped he wouldnt be around when that day came, but if he was, he didnt want to wait that long. Knowing that he still wouldnt eat that morning, he saw no reason to go downstairs and even face Karofsky, who he was so angry at that he felt like he could have smacked him. But he wouldnt have done much damage, which sent him into an even bigger rage. After his plan to escape had failed and hed been brought home only to be spanked, Hunter had retired to his bed and thought about when he was still with his family. He questioned why they had been taken from him, why it had been him and not some other little boy. But he was glad that if that woman had just been grabbing for a child and didnt care which, that it was him instead of Archer.

As he let his mind consider Archer, his favorite friend who hed always been with, his eyes suddenly filled with tears, but he wiped them away. He wondered what Archer was doing, if he was still sleeping peacefully, even if he was by himself, if he was still getting hugs from their parents, if he was happy. Hunter hoped so. His brief relaxation as he thought of his best friend was interrupted by a noisy cough from downstairs, and he narrowed his eyes at the doorway. Knowing that he had to get back to his family and away from that man, Hunter skimmed through every way, no matter how crazy, he had spent even seconds thinking up of how to escape from that awful man. Maybe he could make Karofsky hate him. At home, he knew there was no way to make his parents hate him. Hed never even been punished. Hed always tried his best to be his daddys good baby, doing as he was told when he was called over to the kitchen table, and cleaning up his toys after he was done playing, and sometimes helping his père hang up their clothes in the closets. And, for that, his head was scratched and his forehead was kissed, but hed never been hit. Hed gone from getting special treats, like cake or cookies, when he proved to his daddy that he could be his good baby, to getting nothing from Karofsky, as if he wasnt in the room, or if he was bad, getting whacked a few times across his bottom.

His cheeks heated up as he was faced with all of the wrongs that Karofsky had done to him, and his little hands curled into balls. Lowering his brows, Hunter snuck over to the door and peered out at the living room, where he could only make out the TV, but not what was on the screen. He heard rustling and then crunching, which meant that Karofsky was probably stuffing his face, while Hunter hadnt eaten since yesterday afternoon. Even though Karofsky was lounging around now, Hunter knew that he could make him coil into a spring that was ready to snap within moments, and if he made him too horribly upset, he wondered if Karofsky would throw him out on the streets. He could make himself seem like the child that Karofsky hadnt wanted from that woman-a calm baby who didnt try to escape whenever he turned his back, as hed been so against yesterday-and he would soon get rid of him, giving Hunter the freedom to return to his family.

Turning away from the door, Hunter walked to the middle of the room, where he stood still for a moment, waiting for an idea on how he should carry this out. The dresser against the wall caught his eye, and he slowly walked over to it, fiddling with one of the handles on the drawer. Wrapping his finger around the rusted handle, Hunter pulled the drawer out, wincing as it shrilly squeaked. It got stuck halfway out of the dresser because it hadnt been touched in so long, but Hunter yanked as hard as he could, and the drawer fell to the floor, landing right by his toes. Taking a step back so he wasnt squished, Hunter moved over to the next one, but paused and glanced over his shoulder so he could check on any movement from Karofsky. But there was nothing. He grabbed the next drawer and ripped it out of the dresser, watching it crash to the ground with a low bang. Finally, Hunter heard, as soon as his ears stopped ringing from the last crack of wood against the floor, the couch below him screaming against Hunters movement.

"Hunter?" Karofsky yelled up to him, but Hunter didnt say anything. Quickly pulling the next drawer out, Hunter let it collapse, and he watched the pieces of wood fall apart. "Hunter! Are you okay?" Still not saying anything, Hunter wiped his damp eyes again. As his heart pounded faster, he moved in time with the beating, instead of the pace of a turtle that hed been going at. After he tugged the last drawer out and threw it down with such a clatter that he thought the floor was cracking, he whipped around and ran across the room. Pulling the blankets off of the bed, Hunter dropped them to the floor, and as he turned this time, he found that big body in the doorway. "What the fuck, Hunter? Stop!"

Karofsky charged over to him to stop his wild thrashing, but Hunter threw his fists out at him, making him pause in his movements. He looked struck by Hunters flinging and hurling, even though he hadnt been hit. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, but Karofsky refused to let himself look alarmed by what was supposed to be a helpless baby and wasnt, and he lowered his eyebrows. Grabbing for the boy that was slapping at the air, Karofsky yelled something incoherent when Hunter screamed so loudly that he just knew his daddy would hear him and come for him at the cry for help. "Hunter!" Karofsky tried, but Hunter wouldnt-couldnt- close his mouth. His throat burned as a sharp noise ripped through it, a terrible sound that made Karofsky back away and cover his ears with two meaty hands.

His shrieks were broken by a sudden sob, and he snorted through a bubble of snot that blew out of his nostril. "Daddy!" Hunter begged, realizing he was losing his fervor as Karofsky stood in front of him, a huge body that had arms that were just as big as he was. He needed his daddy because he was only a baby, and he wished that he wasnt so little. But, one day, he would be as strong as his daddy, and he would do just as Karofsky had done to him. A large hand lashed out at him, smacking him across his cheek, and then it lowered to his neck. He would have made a sound of surprise, but he couldnt do anything but gasp as a steel chain fastened around his sore throat. He choked from under that tight grip, already out of breath from his screaming and crying, so he saw stars as Karofsky strangled him with one bulging hand.

Another hand punched him in the stomach, knocking what little air was still sitting inside of him out. Trying to squeal in a plea for release, Hunter inhaled sharply when Karofsky threw him aside, leaving him on the floor to suck in large gulps of air. Karofsky ignored his frantic gasping, and he walked out of the door and slammed it behind himself. Jumping at the resounding bang that was louder than any hed made, Hunter draped himself across the floor as he tried to recover. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep. But within minutes, or maybe seconds, Karofsky returned to his bedroom and pulled a piece of tape from a thick roll. "You," he said, jerking Hunter back up into a sitting position and dragging him over to the bed post, "are going to obey me, like it or not. Im going to work. Youll stay here. While Im gone, think about how much you want me to teach you another lesson."

Smacking a piece of tape onto Hunters mouth, Karofsky glared at him as he tried to open his mouth, but could do no more than move his jaw. He grasped Hunters wrists in one giant hand, and he pressed them to the bar a little too firmly. Hunter growled at the sharp pain that made his arms go numb. Securing Hunters arms to the bar, Karofsky moved his hands up to Hunters shoulders, and he sighed as Hunter pointed his chin down, avoiding meeting those cold eyes. "Hunter, I dont want to hurt you. You can make this home as comfortable as you want for yourself. Just be my good-"

Karofsky hissed as a foot kicked at him, not letting him finish his sentence, no matter what word he was going to put at the end of it. He didnt want to be Karofskys good anything, and now he was starting to think that he wasnt his daddys good anything, either. He wasnt like the good baby that hed left his daddy as. Something harsh in him had come out as he got closer to Karofsky, and he didnt know what it was, but the same iciness reflected in Karofskys eyes.

Blaine sat down on the edge of Archers blue bed, sinking deeply into the fuzzy blankets and plump mattress. He bent over his little one and pressed a kiss to the middle of his small forehead, and another to the tip of his pointy nose. Hearing Archer sigh underneath him, he pulled back up and laid his hands on the blankets, drawing them up to the babys round chin. His baby wriggled deeper into his bed, preparing for his night-night time, but he paused when he realized that he was completely alone. Stretching his dimpled hands out, Archer grabbed for the purple bunny that had been left at the end of his bed, so Blaine reached down for it and gave it to his baby, "Your bunny will keep you safe, sweetheart. And your père and Daddy will always be there for you if you need us."

Nodding his head in agreement, Kurt also pecked Archer with a gentle kiss, making that pudgy cheek squish like a pancake. Those round cheeks were so childlike, and Blaine swallowed thickly to keep down a sob as he thought of how short a life Hunter had lived before he was tragically killed. Turning his head to his husband so he could hide his abrupt emotion from Archer, he heard a soft coo from Kurt, and a light hand rubbed his shoulder. Through a quiet yawn, Archer mumbled, "Is this home now?"

"This is home now." Kurt whispered to him, brushing his thin fingers through those wild curls. "We dont have to move around anymore. This is a safe place for you, Archer. Its beautiful here. Someday, you and I will go out to the garden to see the flowers. Maybe in early spring, when they first bloom."

Archer rubbed his big, but bleary, eyes with two tiny fists, "Where did they go?"

Kurt glanced over at him for a brief moment, and then those damp, blue eyes lowered back to Archers inquisitive expression, "Sometimes... flowers shrivel up when they get cold. Its their way of protecting themselves. Their petals fall off, and they might not be beautiful anymore, but when they warm up again, they pop open, and their colors are brighter than ever."

"Is that like Hunner?" Archer peeped, tilting his head and making his hair swing to the side. Blaine swallowed again at the mention of his passed babys name, but he couldnt let it show to Archer. "Hes gone right now, but hell come back? Père, why does it get cold if it makes the flowers sad? Doesnt it know that it should stay away?"

Kurt frowned again, something that Blaine had been seeing more and more often as the days went by since their childs death. For the longest time, Blaine was sure that hed never even seen a frown from Kurt. But now it was all he could see. "I dont know, darling." Kurts voice became so quiet that Blaine almost didnt catch those few words. "I dont like the cold." Wrapping his arms around himself as if their conversation had invited in a cold breeze that whisked by all of them, Kurt shivered, so Blaine inched closer to him and let what little body heat he had left seep into Kurt. Smoothing a wrinkle from Archers forehead, Kurt hummed, "Go to sleep, my love, and your daddy and I will make a good breakfast for you in the morning." As Archer let his eyes fall shut, Kurt stayed by his side for a few more moments, almost unable to leave his side. "We love you." He tried, his voice shaking on the last word, so Blaine bundled him under a strong arm and tugged him from the bed before his emotions could heighten too much. Going with his husband, Kurt tucked his head under Blaines chin, shaking the whole way down the hallway to their own bedroom.

For the first few nights after their babys death, neither of them had seen each other as husbands, hadnt turned to each other to speak about what they needed to do to keep their family from falling apart, but simply fallen onto the mattress and tried to sleep away their worries. Now, Blaine wanted to hold Kurt in his arms as his husband, and tell him everything he was feeling. He could see that it was wearing on Kurt, who had always been the person Blaine had turned to when he felt like he himself was collapsing and there was nothing he could do about it. Even though Blaine hated to talk about it, let alone think about it, he had to be Kurts husband and Archers daddy. He had to protect them. As he lowered onto the end of the bed, he wrapped his arms around Kurts waist and drew him between his legs. Rubbing Kurts back with slow, tender movements, he looked up at that pale face, that puckered and quivering lip, those teary eyes, and he whispered, "Let me hold you in my arms."

Tears spurted from Kurts eyes at the offer of comfort, because he and Blaine hadnt been each others husbands for a few days. Theyd simply been living beside of each other, but it was time for Blaine to be strong for his family, even if he himself was breaking like glass, with one crack that spread into thousands. Sliding his arms under Kurts thighs and back, Blaine cradled him on his lap, feeling his head rest against his chest. Softly humming to Kurt because he couldnt think of any words to say, Blaine pressed his lips to the top of his head as he rocked him back and forth like a small child. Kurts fingers twisted in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. "Its okay." Blaine promised, pressing another kiss to his forehead, "Its okay. I wont let a-anything hurt you or our baby."

Kurts white lids appeared over his blue eyes, hiding that pretty gaze from him. Blaine was almost relieved that he had closed his eyes, because if he saw those shining eyes which had tears leaking from the lashes, Blaine might have cried himself. "You d-didnt mean to let it happen." A sweet voice suddenly peeped, and Blaine looked down at those white lips. "Its j-just like when K-Karofsky came to our home and took you away from m-me. B-But you were strong e-enough to come back to me." Those blue eyes opened, revealing glittering sapphires. "H-Hunter was just a b-baby."

"Shh..." Blaine pleaded, rubbing his nose against Kurts soft cheek. "My beauty, I wish... more than a-anything... that I could have saved him. I was his daddy... He expected me to protect him. I was supposed to-"

"And you did!" Kurt insisted, the last few tears dropping from his eyes as a look of determination wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes. "You were his daddy... and that was enough. H-Hunters life... no matter how short... was the best life he could have lived. When we took Hunter in, we knew that he would be happy... because he had you... and Archer... and me. You g-gave him a daddy who loved him, and Archer was the best friend he could have ever had! He loved us, Blaine. You know that. Its just... we thought Santana had changed. But she was still under Karofskys control... while you got out of it. Karofsky can be as sneaky and mean and cruel as he wants to be... but you gave Hunter love. And those few months he had before those last moments of suffering... meant so much to him that he probably thought of you... b-before he died. And it probably didnt hurt... because he s-saw your face." Sniffing before he went on, Kurt curled deeper into his chest and said, "My mom told me once... that she heard someone say that time heals wounds. But she didnt agree... she told me that love heals wounds."

Blaine bowed over his husbands chest, feeling the silky fabric of his dress brushing his forehead. Sobbing against his husbands heart, Blaine counted the number of heartbeats that drummed in his ears, and he knew that each one of them was for Hunter.