A/N: A million thanks to itsjustaplaceholderfornow for the fast, thoughtful and very helpful beta! My apologies for the lapse between chapters. If I explained what the past six months have been like, youd understand. Im hoping to have the last chapter up this month, so I can really end "Roses" in December.

Dr. Mathison must have hired a decorator to design her office. Every little detail is just right — the soft velvet of the couch, the soothing art on the walls, even the dim twinkle of the chandelier.

"Blaine?"

Everything is perfectly selected to calm anxious nerves. Its a den of relaxation, a luxurious escape from the pressures of the world. No wonder Dad chose this place; theyre probably billing Henry Adams a small fortune.

"Blaine, did you hear my question?"

I blink and look back at her. "Sorry, what?"

Dr. Mathison peers at me from behind her thick-rimmed glasses, purses her lips tightly, and scribbles something illegible on her notepad. "I asked you how youre doing today."

"Im fine."

Shes in her early fifties, but I only know that from the date on the Harvard diploma hanging on the wall. She looks far younger, sleek and stylish with her blonde bob and Manolo pumps. "How have things been going since we last met?"

"Theyre going okay. My parents are fine. Back to normal. Dads back to his practice, Moms helping organize a gala of some sort. Its really the Hummels whose lives changed when Mr. Adamss money came through. Now that the creditors are being paid off, Burts been able to hire back all the guys he let go. Carole quit her second job. Finn has even started talking about college again."

"Mm-hmm."

"Kurt still isnt acting like himself, though."

"How so?"

I frown a little, remembering our phone conversation just before this appointment. Hed sounded exhausted. "Hes afraid all the time. Keeps talking about how small town Ohio isnt safe for us because of all the homophobes here. Ive tried reminding him that Morgan wasnt homophobic, but that doesnt seem to help. If anything he gets more upset, talking about how we cant even trust fellow gay guys to have our backs." I rub my palms against my knees. "He stays at home all day, every day. And he gets really scared when I have to leave the house."

She writes on her notepad again. "Blaine, have you ever noticed that when I ask you how things are going, you talk about your parents, and Kurt, and Kurts family, but you never talk about yourself?"

I shrug. "Im fine."

"Youve been saying that a lot lately."

"What?"

"That youre fine."

"I am fine." I flash her my best Blaine Anderson smile. "Thats why I say it."

She purses her lips, scribbles again.

I swallow back a sigh. "You dont believe me."

"Its hard to believe."

"Whys that?"

"You were violently attacked. Twice."

"Yes."

"Did you ever talk to a counselor about it?"

"There was no need," I assure her. "Im fine."

"Fine."

"Yes."

"Tell me when you werent fine, Blaine." Dr. Mathison leans forward, raises a perfectly manicured finger to adjust her glasses. "Tell me one time in your life that you havent been fine."

I cant help rolling my eyes a little. "Plenty of times."

"Name one."

"Oh, I dont know, when I was in a coma?"

"You werent conscious when you were in a coma. Im asking you for a time when you dropped the perfect little prep school boy act—"

"Hey—"

"And were genuinely upset. And acted on it."

"I... Youre barking up the wrong tree here, Dr. Mathison. Ive been upset. Ive shown it."

"When?"

It takes a moment for me to think. "Back in December," I say finally, triumphant. "When I realized my parents had lied to me."

"Hm. Tell me about that."

"Ive already told you, when I woke up from the coma they wouldnt let Kurt see me. And they wouldnt let any of my friends whod known him see me either. They erased any trace of him from my life, so Id never know he existed."

"And how did it make you feel, when you found out?"

"Hurt. Betrayed. Furious. " I raise my eyebrows. "Sound like a perfect little prep school boy to you?"

"What did you do?"

"Went to my house. Confronted my parents. I yelled at them, for the first time in my life."

Rather than looking impressed, Dr. Mathison just nods smugly. "You yelled at them."

"Yes, I did."

"For the first time in your life."

"Yes, I just—"

"How old are you, Blaine?"

"Nineteen," I reply, resisting the urge to point out that my date of birth is right there in the very thick file on her lap.

"So it took you nineteen years to yell at your parents?"

"Just because I was raised with manners," I say tightly, "doesnt mean Im not a genuine person."

She leans back, scribbles again. "How do people with manners behave?"

"In a civilized fashion. They talk things out rationally."

"Do they beat people up?"

I sigh. "No, obviously they dont do that."

"Do they take a crowbar and break your boyfriends collarbone?"

"Dr. Mathison, I dont know where youre going with this. You think Im going to snap like Morgan Adams? Attack people?"

"No, I dont." She gives me a vague smile. "You have too much concern for others to hurt anyone like that."

"So what, then?"

"You remember the joint sessions we had with Kurt a few weeks ago?" She points at her notes, as though I can read them. "You said you were concerned about his behavior. And when I asked what Kurt thought about your behavior, he said that you seemed like you were back to normal already."

"Which is true. He was right."

"Blaine. Someone attacked you twice. Tried to kill you."

"Would you rather I react like Kurt? He can barely leave the house!"

"Hes processing. And frankly, Im worried that youre just shoving your feelings down, repressing them."

"Im not shoving anything down. Im resilient."

"People are resilient when they learn how to deal with something," she says intently. "You havent dealt with anything. Youve pasted on that big smile and charmed everyone into believing that youre fine."

I stare at her, and she stares at me. Neither of us says a word. Finally she sighs, glancing at the clock. "Thats all for today."

"Great."

Im up and out the door before shes even risen to her feet. I dont bother making my next appointment at the front desk; Im through dealing with this madwoman. Like Ive been telling people, I dont need to talk to a psychologist. Im fine.

I do stop and say goodbye to her receptionist, though, to be polite.

I drive to Kurts new house after stopping for gas. As I pull into the driveway and park, I can see him peeking out from behind the heavy drapes in the front room. I wave to him from the car, smiling brightly. The drape falls back into place, and my smile fades.

The Hummels new neighborhood is really nice, with comfortable homes and lovely landscaped lawns. A few little kids are playing tag in a neighbors yard, their squeals of laughter filling the air as I head up the front walk. When I reach the front door, though, Kurt opens it and pulls me inside quickly, as though theres gunfire outside. He clutches me tightly once Im safe in the foyer. "Youre late. I was so worried."

"Im fine, sweetheart," I tell him, leaning in for a kiss. "Just had to stop and fill the tank."

"You didnt go to the BP, did you? I swear those two guys were talking about me the one time I stopped there—"

"No, I remembered. I went to Jerrys. We like Jerry, right?"

He nods reluctantly.

Burt is home, looking happy and well-rested for the first time in ages. He waves at me from the living room, before turning back to hang more picture frames. I watch him for a moment as Kurt tugs my peacoat off and hangs it in the coat closet. Burt is holding a framed photo, gazing at it fondly, and when he reaches up to hang it on a nail, Im surprised to see its a picture of Kurt and me at our prom.

"Want to go upstairs?" Kurt asks me. I nod, smiling, and we head up to his room together.

"Have you been outside today?"

"No."

"How come? Its nice out."

He hums noncommittally. We lie down on his bed together, holding each other, and I fight back the urge to tell him to stop hiding away. Henry Adamss money may have saved the Hummels from financial ruin, but its also taken away any need for Kurt to leave the house.

"Did you get my email about NYADA?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Whatd you think?"

"I dont know. Acting might not be where I want to end up anymore."

"Theres the other email I sent you, too, about design schools. Parsons, maybe?"

He sighs. "Honestly, I havent looked at them too closely."

"Why not?"

"Because its depressing. We missed all the deadlines to apply to any of those schools at this point. Even if we apply next fall, it means we wont get to New York for another year after that."

I hadnt thought of it that way. "But well get there. Before you know it, well be there."

We watch Across the Universe together, and sing along, and it feels almost normal.

I leave after Kurt falls asleep, even though its only six-thirty. Visiting hours at the hospital are still open, so I head over, wondering if Sebastian will agree to see me today.

"Hi, Gloria, youre looking lovely today," I say to one of the elderly receptionists as I sign in.

"Oh, youre gonna make me blush," she chortles. "You sure you dont like women? Theyre at their best once they pass menopause, you know."

I wink at her. "Ill keep you posted."

Ive stopped by nearly every day since my doctor let me drive again. Sebastian hasnt agreed to see me, so each day Ive sat outside his room, talking with Lawrence or occasionally the Smythes, who are finally back from Rome. When I arrive tonight, no one is in the hall. Now that Sebastian has been moved out of the ICU, I can use my cell again, so I take a seat and pull it out to play a game.

"Are you seriously here again? I told you to stop coming!" he bellows from inside his room.

I roll my eyes. "Its a free country!" I holler back.

"Get a fucking life, Anderson. Move on."

Its the most hes said to me since the attack, so I pause, considering. Then I put away my phone and rise, walking over to stand in the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

He looks better than he did yesterday. The swelling in his face has gone down a bit, and the bandage on his head is finally gone. "Like Ive got a stalker. Dont you have anything better to do?"

I shrug, daring a step into the room. When he doesnt balk, I walk in further. "Ive been where you are. Thought you might want someone around who understands."

"I had a cracked skull and a broken arm. Im not sure thats in the same ballpark as lying half-dead in a coma for months." Hes trying to sound dismissive, but theres something tight in his face. I step closer.

"We were both victims of—"

"Dont," he says, as I reach his side. "Dont do that."

"Dont do what?"

"Dont try and act like were the same."

"I dont understand."

"Youre after an apology, right? Thats why you keep showing up here?"

I shake my head in confusion. "An apology?"

"You want to hear me say it? Fine, it was my fault. It was all my fault."

"What was your fault?"

Sebastian glares at me fiercely. "You know what. I led Morgan on. I toyed with him because he was an easy lay. I caused this. All of it." His jaw tightens. "Everything. Him nearly killing you and Kurt. Him attacking you and me last month. Its all my fault, all right?"

"Its not—"

"It is." Hes breathing unevenly now, his eyes growing glassy with tears. "I didnt see it. I didnt see... him, I didnt... If I had, I couldve... but I didnt know that he would ever, I didnt know he could—"

"You couldnt have."

"He was my friend," he says brokenly, turning away from me. I reach for his hand, and he squeezes back tightly. "I didnt know. I swear I didnt know."

"Its fine. Everythings fine, its okay."

Neither of us says anything else, and when I finally leave, we both know I wont be back.

Its nearly February, and our families have only just found the time to celebrate Christmas.

Wed planned on doing it right after the new year, but then Mr. Adams had thrown a wrench in everything with his hush money. Things moved quickly once we agreed to settle. The Hummels found the perfect house and paid for it in cash once the settlement money was deposited. I spent a week helping them pack their belongings into cardboard boxes, and even longer helping them unpack. Now that theyre settled into their new home, its finally time for our joint family Christmas.

There are so many presents. Too many presents, like Burt and Carole are trying to make up for something that was never their fault in the first place. Finn crows excitedly when he opens up an envelope to find season tickets to the Buckeyes. Carole receives a lovely diamond pendant and gets choked up when Burt helps her fasten it around her neck.

Kurt leans against me and watches everyone open their gifts.

"Arent you going to open yours?" I ask him. I bought him a pair of boots I know hes been coveting, and I know Carole got him a beautiful array of vintage ties and scarves.

"Maybe later," he says.

Mom opens a string of pearls, and thanks me warmly. "Can you help me put them on, dear?"

I stand up and follow her into the hall, where she stops in front of a large mirror. She holds up her hair carefully, and I fasten the necklace for her. We both pause to admire her reflection.

"Hes still struggling, isnt he," she says, nodding toward Kurt. Hes watching his dad open gifts, smiling faintly when Burt whoops with excitement. "Id hoped time might help with that."

"Its hard. Hes... its hard. Well get through it."

She looks back at me, studying my face. "You will."

"We have each other."

"You do." I cant understand the expression on her face at all. Its not quite sadness, not quite pride. Maybe somewhere in between. "Youve grown up a lot, these past few months."

"Had to catch up to my age, I guess."

She smooths back my hair and kisses my forehead, harder than I expect. "You know I love you, yes?"

"Of course, Mom."

"And I want whats best for you?"

"I know that."

When she pulls back, Im surprised to see that shes crying. "Okay."

"Mom?"

"Its fine, dear. Im fine."

Dad calls out to us. We head back into the living room together, grinning as Dad demands to know which one of us dared to buy him an electric meat carver. "Its a crime against nature!" he protests as we laugh. "It takes away all the artistry!"

"Then you can return it," Mom says, leaning down to kiss his cheek before perching on the arm of his chair.

The hubbub has died down at last, and Finn has lit a fire in the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over us as we relax together, sipping mugs of hot chocolate. Kurt still hasnt opened most of his gifts. Hes content to snuggle against me, watching the fire.

"Burt," Mom says.

"Yeah?" He looks over at her. "Are you... now?"

"Nows as good as... I mean..." She trails off as Dad rubs her back, and I frown.

"Mom?"

"Theres another gift," Burt says, a little gruffly. "We, ah... theres one more."

Carole reaches down to squeeze his hand, and I cock my head.

"A gift for who? Whats going on?"

"For you," Dad says. "For you and Kurt, I mean. From all of us."

Mom pulls an envelope out of her purse. She looks down at it for a moment, before leaning over to hand it to me. Its a plain white envelope, no hint to its contents. I look down at Kurt. "You want to open it?"

He shakes his head, so I tear open the flap and reach in. There are two tickets inside, and when I pull them out, my heart gives a little leap. "Plane tickets to New York City? Really?"

"Really," Mom says. I cant figure out why she and Dad look so somber.

"For when?" Kurt asks.

I check the date on the tickets. "Oh wow, a week from tomorrow. And we come back..." I frown, looking at the tickets, then back in the envelope. "I dont understand. These are one-way."

Burt nods, swallowing hard. Kurt straightens up in a flash. "Dad? Really?"

"Its... I mean, that psychologist of yours seemed to think it could—"

"Are you serious?" Kurts off the floor, half in his dads lap before I can even react. "Please tell me this is real."

"Its real, bud. We talked to Blaines cousin Rob, and he said you can stay with him for a while, until you find a place of your own. The money from the settlement should be more than enough to take care of your rent and living expenses, not to mention college tuition when youre ready to head back to school—"

Kurts laugh rings out, startling and too loud. "Were going to New York." He hugs his dad, earning a surprised oof from Burt, then looks back at me, his face radiant. "Blaine. Blaine, were getting out of here. Were going to New York."

"I heard." I smile at him, confused at the gnawing feeling in my gut. "Its what you wanted."

"This is amazing, this is so... I just... New York!"

Carole hugs him, too, and Finn starts talking about coming to visit us and seeing a Broadway show, and Dad is giving Kurt tips on where to find the best bagels in the city, and Mom is hugging Burt for some reason, and things are moving so fast, everything is going way too fast...

But Im fine. Everything is fine.