Kurt closed his eyes and tilted his head into the warm shower spray, sighing as the water dripped down his cold skin. He felt tired and had been swaying back and forth since hed gotten home from the hospital, but he was too achy to sleep. Rubbing his eyes with two tiny fists, he quietly yawned, just barely opening his mouth, and decided that it was time to go to bed before he fainted of exhaustion. Turning around, he reached for the faucet, but jumped when he heard ringing. "Oh!"

A moment later, after hed calmed down from the surprising noise, he realized that someone was calling him. He took a deep breath, considering answering or not, but he didnt like being rude. He just worried that it might be the hospital with terrible news about his sick dad. Pressing his trembling lips together, he climbed out of the shower and bundled himself in a towel, wrapping himself from his chest to his thighs. The towel was soft and warm on his sensitive skin, but he didnt have even a moment to appreciate it.

He wandered out of his bathroom and picked up his phone a second before it stopped ringing, and he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Hello?" His voice was weak, quivering, and he wondered if it was obvious that hed been crying.

To his alarm and discomfort, a voice that didnt sound at all like one of the doctors hed spoken to said, "Kurt? Have you been crying?" He didnt know what to say to that, how to hide his shrill voice, if he should leave the phone for a minute and get a glass of water. He hadnt realized a few minutes had passed since hed spoken, so the voice he couldnt recognize muttered, "Its me... Blaine."

Kurts cheeks flushed as he remembered what had happened yesterday, getting pushed around in the hallways, lost more times than once, and made fun of whenever he walked by those big men in red jackets. Hed tried his best to be nice to them, giving them smiles and even a few quiet greetings, but they were still very mean to him. Itd been a very hard day and he didnt remember many people because no one had really talked to him, but he did remember Blaine, one of the very few people who had been kind to him. "Blaine... yes, I remember you." He said softly, afraid of saying anything more because he wasnt sure if Blaine was mad at him for trying to kiss his cheek to show him how grateful he was.

His aunt had told him that most men in Ohio didnt like it when other men were anything other than straight, which was why shed sent him away from France with a suitcase full of jeans and shirts. Hed always wrinkled his nose at everything except dresses and skirts, but she had said that she was doing the best thing for him, and he had trusted her, as he always did.

Suddenly wondering if Blaine would dislike his dresses with the pretty bows and ribbons, Kurt reached for the towel that was covering his chest. He knew that he wasnt like other boys, and he was worried that no one at all would even look at him if he showed himself in a skirt. Touching his rumpled forehead, he dropped his shoulders and sighed, so filled with worry and dread that he felt like crying again. He jumped when Blaine cleared his throat, the noise so surprising when hed lost himself in thoughts. "Kurt..." his voice was tight, and Kurt heard him swallow thickly, "tell me if youre okay."

What he thought was supposed to be comforting was very demanding, and Kurt melted under that strong tone. He wanted to rely on someone, crawl up in someones lap like hed always done with his aunt when he was upset, but he couldnt with his dad right now. The passing thought of his dad seemed to be his undoing because he sniffed and pressed his palms to his eyes to keep in the tears. Hiccupping, Kurt heard movement from the other side of the phone, and he wanted to tell Blaine that he was fine, that he was grateful for his caring, but he couldnt get the words out without weeping.

Holding the phone away from his ear, Kurt managed the tiniest of whispers, just barely a soft mewl, "Im so sorry if you called about the English project... I dont mean to be a b-burden. I need..." What did he need? He was so lost that he wasnt sure what he needed. He needed someone to hug him and tell him that he was okay, that it would all be fine, that his dad would come home, and that he would return to the place he loved one day. Feeling dizzy, he peeped, "Ill look for you tomorrow, Blaine."

"Kurt-" Blaine sounded alarmed, shocked by Kurts rejection of the hand hed held out. Before Blaine could hear his whimpers, Kurt put his phone down and tossed himself onto his pillows. Sobbing until they were ruined, he waited for someone to sit down by his trembling body and rub his back, murmur sweet words to him. But he was all alone, something hed never been before.

Blaine, suddenly filled with a terrible need to comfort, flipped over on his bed, leaving his phone on the edge of his pillow. Throwing his legs off the bed, he walked over to the window, staring down at the little house at the end of the street. Itd taken so much effort to get people to talk about Kurt to him without coming off as completely gay, and now he felt exactly as he should, wanting to protect Kurt from whatever had made him cry. After finding out that Kurt lived just a few doors down from him, right across the street, hed obsessively stared at that tiny house until hed gotten up the courage to actually use the information hed gotten on Kurt and call him. He wasnt sure what he wanted to hear from him, but Blaine would never admit that he just wanted to talk to him.

Knowing that Kurt was somewhere behind one of those windows and probably crying until those soft cheeks were pink was driving Blaine insane. He didnt want to scare him by storming over there and just showing his face, but he didnt know how he would get through the rest of the night if he just left him to cry. Growling at these unusual emotions hed never felt for anyone, Blaine stomped away from the window, but the urge to look out for Kurt was too powerful.

He quickly returned to the window and watched that house until he wasnt sure how long had passed. It was a quiet house with not a lot happening in it, but he was still so fascinated by it, knowing that beautiful face was somewhere within. He wondered what Kurt was doing, if he was cooking himself dinner, or taking a bath, or picking out a pretty outfit for tomorrow. Pushing his face against the window to get a better look, Blaine jerked back when a light suddenly flipped on. From where Blaine was, he could see a tiny living room, a couch against one wall and a TV by the window. A little figure padded in front of the window, and Blaine leaned on the sill, trying to see Kurt.

He was holding what looked like a bowl of soup in two small palms, and what Blaine thought was an old tee shirt was draped over him. His eyes widened when Kurt turned around, and Blaine saw a bow on the back of what he realized was a nightgown. Kurts long, pale legs were showing, and Blaine could barely get his eyes off of those. The skirt flirted around his hips, just barely covering a round bottom.

Kurt turned around again and peeked out the window, then he sighed and swished out of Blaines line of sight. Wanting to see Kurt again, Blaine moved a little to the left, and he caught Kurts shadow disappearing down a set of stairs. His dress was waving behind him, the hem of the skirt the last thing to vanish. He groaned and hit his face with a large hand, scrubbing his forehead. He was unsure what to think of Kurt, as hed never seen a boy in a dress before.

He didnt have a chance to consider what hed just seen of Kurt because his phone started buzzing. His heart jumped as he questioned if Kurt was calling him back, and he hurried back over to his bed. Lifting his phone to his ear without checking who it was, he muttered, "Kurt?"

"What?" A rough voice said, and Blaine inwardly winced. "Kurt? Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?" A scraping sound on the other end almost deafened Blaine, and then Karofsky shouted, "Dammit, Azimio! I told you the fucking bottle! You drank my dads beer!"

Wanting to switch the subject from Kurt, Blaine mumbled, "Azimios with you?"

"Yeah, and hes high as fuck." Karofsky snorted into the phone, a rude sound that made Blaine roll his eyes. His memory was too good to pass up Blaines mistake, as always. "But, dude, what the fucks this about that faggot?"

For some reason, it was like a punch to his jaw when he heard that word. Suddenly being yanked by Karofsky, he had no idea why he felt like he had to keep Kurt safe. Like Karofsky said, he was just another faggot... and one that wore dresses, too. He should have told Karofsky that-Karofsky would have wanted him to give him more to bully Kurt about. But he kept his mouth shut, and he didnt know why he did that, either. "Nothing." Blaine said lowly, "I dont want to talk right now."

"Why?" Karofskys voice was sharp, and Blaine realized that he might have offended him. "Dude... somethings up your ass. Youre not acting like my bitch. Whatever it is... fix it. I dont need you to shit around with me."

Blaine heard a yowl from somewhere in the background, away from the phone, and Karofsky burst into laughter. "That fairy sounds just like that when hes taking it hard!" And the subject was back to Kurt, much to Blaines resentment. He thought about clicking the call off, but knew that would piss Karofsky off, and he didnt want to get punched. "Dude, Blaine, weve got the best prank for that whiny bitch youve been moaning about. Are you in?"

Whipping back around to the window, Blaine flicked his wide eyed gaze to the dark house. He couldnt keep from blurting, "Karofsky, no-"

"Why not?" Karofsky snapped, "What, do you have a man crush on him? Get over it, Blaine. Azimio, its you and me, boy! Were going to send him back to that fucking gay place he came from in tears!"

"Dont let him cry on you!" Azimios shaky voice hollered back. "His tears are probably what turn us into faggots!"

Both of them rolled over in laughter, but Blaine was shaking with nerves. "Karofsky," he tried to say above his hooting. "Karofsky, what are you going to do to him?"

His voice was either too weak for Karofsky to hear, or Karofsky had ignored him. The call ended on their choking and snorting, but Blaine kept the phone to his ear. He was shocked by his own reaction to their wickedness, so scared of his new desires for him and Kurt. Pushing his fingers into his hair, he turned his head to the window again, imagining what Kurt looked like while he slept. He was probably curled around his pillow and dreaming of his old home, a little smile on his pink lips.

Looking at his phone, he considered calling Kurt to ask him to stay home tomorrow, just to keep him safe, but he didnt want to stir him from his sleep. He needed to rest and forget about his anxiousness. Blaine decided that he would do whatever it took to throw Azimio and Karofsky away from him.