Kurt was never a heavy sleeper, so he had woken up several times during the night to the sound of various animals or other nighttime noises. Each time, he found himself wrapped up tightly in Blaine's arms and legs, usually with the boy's head cuddled under Kurt's chin and his hands gripping Kurt like a little koala bear.

The next morning, Kurt opened his eyes to find Blaine was gone and the sun was streaming into the cabin through a window that faced east, letting the morning sunshine brighten up the cabin. Kurt smiled, looking around for Blaine. His eyes found him standing in front of the stove, rubbing melted butter in a pan and poking at something in a bowl, covered by a towel.

Blaine turned his head and caught Kurt's eyes.

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” Blaine asked, looking like he really wanted to know.

“Beautifully. I can't recall when I've had a sounder sleep. I did wake up a few times, with sounds I couldn't figure out, but I'll get used to it. How long have you been up?” Kurt asked sheepishly, worried he'd slept too long and appeared lazy.

“Not too long, I mixed up the dough for the rolls, but it needs to rise. Let's go to the outhouse and then get washed up.”

Kurt thought it was a little strange they had to go to the outhouse together, but Blaine explained it was because of the company police looking for him. Blaine knew where to hide if need be.

“I can stop going with you in a few weeks, but it's safer for now,” and Kurt let it go.

After getting washed up, Blaine took the dough out of the bowl; it had raised twice its size once already, and Blaine had punched it down. Kurt was there to help and when both boys reached out to knead the dough, their hands touched. Kurt's breath caught...he could feel the warmth of Blaine's skin and a vision of the sexy scene where Patrick and Demi were shaping the clay and their hands intertwined in “Ghost” came to mind. Kurt had to close his eyes for a moment and regroup, this was inappropriate behavior and his body was going to betray him if he didn't move farther away. He could feel that he was starting to get hard and that just wasn't going to happen. Where was a cold shower when he needed one?

Blaine looked over at Kurt, staring because Kurt had his back to him, and wondered what was wrong. Had Kurt felt that spark when their hands touched? Blaine smiled to himself, he had to admit he wanted to touch Kurt again, but he had been really skittish this afternoon. Kurt turned back around, his body once more under tight control. He noticed Blaine looking at him and gave the boy a forced smile. Blaine went on preparing the dough and smiling that secret smile to himself while Kurt walked over to the trunk to change his clothes.

Kurt was humming “Unchained Melody” and Blaine started to sing along:

Lonely rivers flow To the sea, to the sea

To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh "Wait for me, wait for me"

I'll be coming home, wait for me!
Oh, my love, my darling

I've hungered, hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Are you still mine?
I need your love I need your love

God speed your love to me!

Kurt grinned at Blaine, joining in as they sang, their voices complementing each other.

“Hey, you have a wonderful voice!” Blaine complemented, and Kurt blushed. He was more used to someone telling him how much he sounded like a girl than he was to hearing praise.

“Thank you, Blaine. You do, too. Hey, I think we make a great duo, our voices harmonize pretty well, huh?” Kurt smiled.

“Yeah. Hey, do you know ahhh...oh, “Here's To Us” by Lizzie Hale? We could sing that...”

The rolls were forgotten for a while as the boys sang a few more songs, then Blaine had to get back to the task at hand. He began to roll the dough out, Kurt getting dressed in his borrowed clothes and hurrying to help. Blaine set Kurt to mixing brown sugar and cinnamon together in a bowl. He took a bit of soft butter and painted it on the rectangle of dough sitting on the counter, showing Kurt how to sprinkle the brown sugar mixture over the butter. As a final step, he sprinkled the raisins across the dough. They rolled it up and cut it into rolls with a piece of string. Setting each of these spirals on its side in the pan, he added the rest of the brown sugar and set the pan in the oven to bake. Soon the smell of cinnamon drifted throughout the whole house, making Kurt's mouth water.

“Wow, that smells so good,” Kurt grinned. He was beginning to see all the advantages of living like this with no so-called modern utilities.

“Let's go get the morning milk. Maybe Bossy or Betsy will let you milk them,” Blaine said, opening the cabin door. Kurt followed him to a shed a dozen feet away from the back door. They undid the lock and went in. Kurt thought it was an awfully small place to keep a cow, but he was a city kid, so maybe he was wrong. A glance at the inside of the structure and he saw no cows. Blaine went in a gate and when Kurt followed he saw three goats, all bahhhing at Blaine.

“Here you go, Bossy girl,” he said, the goat stepping up on the stanchion as he dipped a scoop into a bin of grain and filled the feed bowl. The other goat was standing on her stanchion and bahhed until Blaine fed her, too, then when he'd locked their heads in, he fed the male goat from a bowl at the other end of the pen.

“Oh, I had no idea we were drinking goat's milk,” Kurt looked a little pale.

“Ah, what did you think we were drinking?” Blaine asked, wondering at Kurt's reluctance.

“Cow?” he ventured.

“Oh, no I only have goats. These are Toggenbergs. The ram is a LaMancha..see the tiny ears? I hope to have lots of babies one day, Bossy and Betsy are both pregnant. Aren't they, Hugo?” he asked the ram, who was munching his grain in the corner, his huge testicles waving underneath him. “They had babies last year, but I had to sell them. Hopefully this year I can keep at least one,” he said. “Want to learn to milk a goat?”

“Sure, I'm up for anything, Blaine. How do I go about it?”

“First, pat her a little on the back, then stroke her sides and neck until she seems comfortable. She won't let her milk down if she doesn't like you,” he smiled, stroking an appreciative Bossy.

Kurt did the same to Betsy and got a slick goat tongue wrapped around his wrist for his trouble. It felt funny, but he called it a victory she hadn't bitten him. Blaine walked him through each step and came over to hold his hand in the correct way to get the milk out. It was harder than it looked and he felt funny tugging at the goat's teats, but Betsy didn't seem to mind, so Kurt finished. Blaine came and made sure she was stripped before he let her out of the stanchion.

Going outside, he opened a bin and gathered some vegetables, some looked old and not very good....torn leaves or chopped short: obviously the leftovers from some garden. There was even a head of cabbage for them to share.

“You have to be careful feeding cabbage, it can make the milk taste a bit off, but they love it,” Blaine explained and let Kurt feed the treats to the goats before they went back to the yard.

“Okay, now over here,” Blaine said, walking to another structure. He let Kurt inside the double gate and found a line of wooden shelves, each with a fat black chicken sitting on it. Kurt helped gather eggs and feed the chickens before they went back in the cabin.

“Ah, Blaine? Why are the eggs all blue? I've never seen a blue chicken egg before,” Kurt marveled.

“Because the chickens are Araucanas. They call them Easter Egg chickens because they lay blue, green, brown and cream colored eggs,” Blaine laughed.

By this time, the cinnamon rolls smelled so good, Kurt could think of nothing else. He smiled at Blaine, who smiled back, and they sat at the table eating their rolls and drinking fresh goat milk. Kurt had never had anything so good. But, didn't he say that just last night at dinner as he was tucking into that rabbit pie?

“I have to go out for a while this afternoon, Kurt. Will you be okay here by yourself? Or I can take you over to the cook house with Cookie and Shannon?” Blaine asked.

“Ah, maybe to the cook house? I want to see if there is any way to contact my dad,” Kurt asked. He would have rather stayed at the cabin, he was comfortable there, but he was even more worried about his dad thinking he was dead.

“Okay, let's get this cleared and be on our way then,” Blaine said, stacking the dishes and walking over to the tub. Kurt was up and pouring the hot water from the kettle into cool water from the river so they could get it done quickly.

~*~*~~

“Ah, so this is the boy,” a woman said, looking Kurt up and down as she stood with her hands in fists on her hips, a less-than-happy look on her wrinkled face.

“Yes, Ma'am, I'm Kurt Hummel, pleased to make your acquaintance,” Kurt said, putting out his hand to shake hers in his most polite form.

She looked at his hands as though they were filthy and turned on her heel to walk away.

“Aw, Shannon, give the kid a chance. He's polite, and that's more than you usually get around here, isn't it?” her husband coaxed. She turned back.

“Okay. I am Shannon. It's good to meet you,” she said.

“And you,” Kurt said, taking her hand. “How can I help?”

“I have bread to make, we can start with that.” Cookie began.

An hour later, Kurt was elbow deep in dough, kneading the third batch of yeast bread and having the time of his life. He loved the hard work, the mindless repetition. Cookie had taken his father's information and promised to try to find a way to send him a message that Kurt was okay. Even Shannon had finally come around after she saw how hard Kurt was willing to work.

Blaine came in the back door, looking tired and sweaty.

“How was it?” Cookie asked.

“Fine. I needed that. Tell the guys I'm ready for the fight next month, okay?” Blaine asked.

“Sure, kid. I'll pass the word along. What do you think? I have fifty....” Cookie said in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, it's Lucky Von Stroh, but I think he isn't going to be so lucky. I think you can go for it,” Blaine smiled, turning to Kurt. “Ready to go?” he asked, taking Kurt's hand and walking through the door.

“Ah, Blaine? I know it's probably none of my business, but what was that about fight night?”

“Oh, I ah...well, let me show you,” he said.

They walked to a large building and Blaine opened the door and ushered Kurt inside with a sweeping gesture. Inside they moved to the center of the building and there was a raised platform. It was a boxing ring. Kurt's eyes got huge.

“You...box?” he asked, looking at Blaine.

“Yeah, I'm an amateur prize fighter. I'm a welter-weight. I've been boxing for three years. I may be too small to be a lumberjack, but I can punch.”

“Wow.”

“Come here....” Blaine pulled Kurt by his arm towards the far wall. There were a lot of photographs there, all framed. Kurt looked at some and then saw a photo of Blaine. He was in a fighting stance, his hair slicked back and toned abs and biceps on display. He was gorgeous.

“Blaine, that's...wow, I've never known anyone that boxed before,” Kurt said.

“Well, my brother taught me, and it gets me some money. I don't need a lot, but I earn what I need that way. Let's go back to the cabin, I'm hungry.”

Kurt had a hard time pulling himself away from the picture of Blaine, then saw another picture near it. Blaine was occupied with getting his bag and Kurt looked closer at this photograph. It was of a heavier man, but the same mop of black curls and intense eyes. Underneath was written:

Cooper Anderson

Warner Logging Camp Middle Weight Champion

This must be Blaine's brother. Blaine was waiting across the room and Kurt hurried to catch up to him, and they left the building to head back to the cabin.

“Hey, Blaine!” they heard from behind them, and Blaine looked over his shoulder.

“Kurt, just go with what I say, nod but don't speak, this is trouble coming,” he whispered to Kurt before he turned to reply to the man chasing him.

“Anderson! Wait,” the man shouted as he jogged to catch up. “Who's this?”

“You know my brother, Chase. This is Cooper,” Blaine said, turning to walk on.

“Cooper? No, this isn't Cooper, he's up on the big job up the canyon, isn't he?” Chase asked, scratching his head.

“Oh, you're funny, Chase – always kidding around. Well, I have to go, I have a fight coming up and I'm in training,” Blaine said, nudging Kurt, who was looking the other direction purposely, and they took off down a path away from the cabin at a good clip.

“I'm betting on you, Anderson!” Chase called as Blaine and Kurt disappeared through the trees.

“Whew, I can't believe that worked,” Kurt panted, having rushed up and down several paths before stopping by the river to sit on a log next to Blaine.

“It wouldn't have worked with anyone else, but Lucas Chase is just about blind. He can see your clothes and general build, but not much else. He's always with Porter, so he keeps his job – the company doesn't know how bad his eyesight is or they'd can him. We never say anything because it's too easy to get things past him. But be careful if you see him with a short fella with dirty brown hair and no chin. That's Nolan Porter and he's nasty.”

“I was scared there for a minute, thanks for looking out for me, Blaine. I appreciate it,” Kurt said.

“That's what friends are for, isn't it?” Blaine said, putting an arm around Kurt and laying his head on Kurt's shoulder, then giving him a tight hug before getting up to walk down another path. Kurt sat still for a moment, absorbing the fact that Blaine just hugged him. He had a warm feeling, like he didn't want Blaine to move away. He'd have to get used to this because every time Blaine touched or hugged Kurt, Kurt got that feeling, and it was getting hard to ignore. Was he attracted to Blaine? Well, he'd come to that conclusion last night, but was Blaine interested in him as more than a friend? He just didn't know. He shook his head and got up to follow his new friend down the path.

Back at the cabin, Blaine was met with a package wrapped up and sitting on his doorstep. He smiled.

“Can you help me get this inside, Kurt?” he asked and grabbed a side while Kurt grabbed the other and they dragged it into the kitchen part of the room. Blaine heaved it up on the table and began unwrapping the paper. There was fresh meat, butchered and wrapped. Blaine grinned.

We can store some of this at the cook house. During the winter we can bury it in the snow, but it isn't cold enough out to snow that much yet. What do you say, steak for supper?” Blaine grinned.

“That sounds wonderful,” Kurt agreed. He had worked hard at the cook house and hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. He was too afraid of Shannon to take any food while he was working, he blushed to remember.

Blaine selected a few steaks and wrapped up the rest of the meat, tying some string around the paper and heaving it up to carry.

“I'll be right back, Cookie will store this for me in the company freezer,” Blaine relayed and was gone in a minute.

Kurt had to use the outhouse, so he opened the door, looking around to be sure he was alone, then walked off the path so he could hide in the bushes if need be. He walked back between the path and the river and saw a bunch of fiddlehead ferns growing in a clump. He knew how to prepare these, having gone with friends to collect them one day, and cut a bunch to take back to the cabin with him. He would show Blaine he could cook, too. Keeping his eyes peeled, he saw a mulberry tree across a clearing and walked that way, climbing into the low branches to pick enough to make a pie. He wove a few leaves of iris together for a small makeshift basket to carry them in and grabbed the ferns, then returned to the cabin.

Blaine was pacing back and forth in the cabin when he went back in. When he saw Kurt, he leaped at him, arms around him in a tight hug, “Kurt! Where did you go? With Chase hanging around camp, I was worried he or Porter might have caught you. Why did you leave?”

“I had to use the outhouse, but I was careful. I went the way you showed me, Blaine, I'm not stupid,” Kurt said, his back up in irritation at being thought unable to take care of himself.

“I never thought you were stupid. A little naïve, but not stupid. The thing is, this has nothing to do with intelligence, Kurt. You don't know how dangerous it is for you to be by yourself here. I thought I explained...everything is owned by the Company. And you pissed off the Company. They are looking for you, Kurt. People that piss off the Company get caught by their agents -men like Chase and Porter, and they disappear. Forever. Do you understand?” Blaine was practically shaking as he talked to Kurt.

“I guess I didn't know how serious it is. I thought they might hit me or beat me up, but I didn't think they'd do anything worse than that,” Kurt confessed, beginning to get scared.

“I can keep you safe, Kurt, but only if you listen to me and do as I tell you. I'm sure in the big city, you can get along fine. There are policemen and people to see what goes on, to keep you safe. But here, The Company is everything. You play by their rules or you pay, sometimes with your life. Okay? There are no witnesses in a place where one company owns everyone and everything you can see,” Blaine tried to keep his patience level up, but he was scared for Kurt.

“Okay, you have taken care of me so far and I trust you, Blaine. I apologize if I stepped out of line. Forgive me?” Kurt asked.

Blaine stepped close to Kurt and put his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Of course, I do, Kurt. You're my friend. Will you listen to me? Please?”

“Yes, Blaine, I will,” Kurt said, melting into the hug for a long minute before pulling back. He wanted to stay there, Blaine smelled so good, the hug was warm and soothing and Kurt had to close his eyes and concentrate to force himself to move away from Blaine. It was like some sort of magnet, always tugging him closer to Blaine. He shook his head to clear it.

“About supper, I know you have steaks, but I found some fiddlehead ferns. I thought they'd taste good with the steak?” Kurt asked.

“I've never eaten them, I don't know how to cook them,” Blaine said, looking curious.

“No worries, I can cook them. See what else I found?” Kurt got out the mulberries in the leaf basket he had wrapped in his jacket.

“Oh! I love mulberries! I can't ever reach them, thanks Kurt. We can have tarts for dessert!” Blaine enthused.

It had been a long day for both of them and the simple task of cooking supper was relaxing for the two of them. It wasn't long before the supper was laid out on the table, the lamps lit and they were eating.

“Oh, this is good. Who left you the beef?” Kurt asked, suddenly curious. Blaine giggled.

“This isn't beef. It's venison. One of the guys must have shot a deer and was kind enough to share. They leave stuff like that for me because they know I'm here by myself most of the time, but more because they want me to win my fights. I need a lot of protein to maintain my weight and stamina. I'm welterweight, so I try to stay right on 145 pounds. They don't do it to be nice, they do it because they bet on me.” Blaine explained.

“Oh, insurance for their wins? I guess that makes sense. But I would think it's more that they just like you, Blaine, you're a nice guy,” Kurt observed.

Blaine coughed. “That isn't important around here, Kurt. Just being a nice guy can get you killed. They feed me because they want me to win, simple as that.”

There was silence in the room.

“Hey, I like these fiddlehead ferns, they're good. Do you eat a lot of these at home in Ohio?”

“Nope, I learned to cook them in a survival class I took with a friend. I can cook, but not exotic foods too much, just simple fare,” Kurt said, but he was really pleased that Blaine liked his contribution.

They ate the small mulberry tarts, cleaned up their supper dishes and walked to the outhouse together.

Coming back, Blaine got the washtub ready, but this time Kurt helped and it was ready quickly. Once again, Blaine stripped off in the middle of the room and began washing. Kurt hesitated, not really used to this, but went ahead anyway. He had his body turned away from Blaine when he felt a warm rag come across his back and he jumped.

“Oh, didn't mean to startle you, I was just going to help with your back again, at least until some of these injuries heal, okay?”

“Of course, I guess I'm just jumpy because of what you told me about the Company men today. No, I appreciate it, Blaine, I can't really reach my back with these bruises hurting so badly.”

Blaine dipped the washcloth and gently washed away the dirt and sweat of the day, taking care not to hurt Kurt. It was soothing and calming and Kurt relaxed into the touch, closing his eyes to feel it more.

“These bruises are bad, Kurt. I'm kind of worried about them. I better put a poultice on them again tonight, you think?” Blaine sounded worried.

“They're pretty sore, but I think they just need time to heal. I've had a lot of bruises in my life, and they just take time...” Kurt said, not wanting to be of any more trouble to Blaine.

Blaine went over to the kitchen for a few minutes, coming back with a poultice that he had wrapped in the piece of flannel and set it to steep in a basin of hot water.

Kurt finished bathing and began to towel off, Blaine once again coming to his aid and patted his back dry before asking him to lie down on the bed just like last night.

“Here, let me take care of this,” Blaine said, removing the bandage from Kurt's head and looking intently at the gash. He dipped a clean cloth in the basin and washed the cut, dabbing on iodine before bandaging it back up with new cloth.

“That looks a little better, and I don't see any infection, so it will heal. I don't think it will scar very much, if at all. It would be a crime to damage your beautiful face,” Blaine smiled. Kurt took in a big breath of air, not knowing what to say to that, so he just mumbled a little.

Blaine patted the bed to indicate that Kurt should lie down and he covered his hips with the sheet before placing the hot poultice on the worst of the bruises. It felt so good on his sore ribcage, Kurt almost fell asleep as Blaine busied himself in the kitchen. He came back, removed the poultice, and helped Kurt pull on the thermal underwear, flannel pajamas, wool socks and knit cap.

“What smells so good?” Kurt asked, his mouth wetting with saliva at the enticing odors coming from the cups in Blaine's hands. He handed one to Kurt who took a small sip, a bright smile beginning on his lips as he sipped at the hot chocolate. They sat quietly, sipping the drink and looking a the stars out the window for a while before the clouds covered the moon.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, drinking the last few drops of the treat and exchanging smiles with his new friend. Afterwards, he was happy to fall into the soft bed, but his heart began to race as Blaine climbed into the bed next to him.

“Goodnight, Blaine,” Kurt said, subconsciously cuddling closer to the warmth of the other boy.

“Kurt, you're my friend, aren't you?” Blaine asked in a quiet voice. Kurt pulled away to turn and study Blaine's face in the small amount of light coming from the fire in the stove.

“Yes, Blaine. I'm your friend, and you're mine,” Kurt said, squeezing his hand. Blaine intertwined their fingers.

“I'm glad.”