Blaine took Kurt up to his room – he took his hand and pulled and Kurt followed him. Once there, Blaine took off all of Kurt's wet and freezing clothes and put him in a hot bath to thaw out. All this time, Kurt didn't say a word. He looked at Blaine from time to time, as though he were trying to figure out something, but he never smiled and he never spoke, just let Blaine do what he would to him. After the hot bath, Blaine got him some of Cooper's flannel pajamas and another pair of wool socks and tucked him into his own bed. Then he went down the hall to the linen cupboard and got the heating pad out. He plugged it in beside the bed, set it to the warmest temperature, and wrapped it around Kurt's feet.

Blaine went to the kitchen and found some leftover beef bourgougnon stew from last night and heated two bowls of it, added some French bread and a pot of tea and took it all upstairs on a tray. He sat it on a bedside table and put his dinner on the desk, then woke Kurt up.

“Hungry?” he asked and Kurt nodded. Blaine helped Kurt to sit up, propped by the pillows in the queen sized bed and set the bed tray over his knees. He put the silverware and bowl on the tray with the bread and a napkin. He poured the hot tea into a cup and raised an eyebrow as he held the sugar bowl, but Kurt shook his head. He placed the cup within reach on the bedside table and went to sit at the desk. They ate the rich stew in companionable silence, mopping the gravy up with chunks of French bread slathered with fresh butter and washed down with the tea. By the time they were done, Kurt had a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Blaine,” he said.

“You're welcome,” Blaine said, gathering the dishes and returning them to the kitchen. He brought up two thin slices of apple pie and a little scoop of vanilla ice cream on each. He put one on the tray in front of Kurt, whose eyes lit up at the sight.

“Did your mom make the pie?” Kurt asked.

“No, the cook did. Mrs Baker is just what her name implies, a wonderful baker – and a gifted cook. I'll tell her you enjoyed her pie.”

They finished in silence again. Kurt seemed very subdued, not upset or worried or anything – which in turn worried Blaine. He knew he should have taken him straight to the hospital to be put on some sort of suicide watch. But he knew how Kurt felt, Blaine had demons of his own, and he would have been right out there ready to jump off a bridge if his brother hadn't been a rock to steady him when all of that happened.

“Blaine, can I ask you something?” Kurt said in a small voice.

“Of course,” Blaine answered.

“Did you mean what you said to me tonight?” Kurt asked.

“I don't know which thing you mean, but if I said it, I meant it,” Blaine answered. “Which thing?”

But Kurt didn't answer. He set the empty plate on the table and moved the tray off his lap. He took Blaine's plate out of his hand and did the same. Blaine just watched him. Kurt patted the bed next to him, unable to speak the words – but Blaine understood and crawled into the bed next to Kurt, who held back the covers to let Blaine under. Sitting in the warm bed, it felt like nothing could ever hurt him again, and Kurt was kind of entranced by that thought. He put his hand under the covers and found Blaine's hand. He raised his eyebrow in question, but Blaine didn't object, so Kurt snuggled down and stretched his legs out, bringing Blaine's hand so he had to lie down next to Kurt.

“I meant, did you tell the truth when you said you cared about me?” Kurt asked after turning out the light and leaving them in darkness, the cold wind howling outside.

“Yes, Kurt, I did. I have been there. Maybe not the exact some circumstances, but I was alone in terms of being gay. I didn't know a soul – well, at least I didn't know a soul who was out, and I felt so alone. When you called, I just felt some sort of connection to you. I do care about you, Kurt. Even more since I have met you,” Blaine said, looking deep into Kurt's blue eyes.

“What happened to you, Blaine? If you want to tell me. You don't have to,” Kurt asked, glad the darkness masked his face.

Blaine sighed. He didn't like to talk about it. But maybe it would help Kurt.

“I was fourteen. I had come out to my family and although my parents weren't too pleased, they didn't really disown me or anything. I think they just didn't understand it, didn't know what it meant to me. You know, they may have thought it was some sort of choice I made to rebel against them or something,” Blaine explained. Kurt held his hand a little tighter and put his other hand on Blaine's arm to show support.

“Cooper, my older brother, was always supportive, but I often wondered if he was just relieved he didn't have me for competition with the girls of Lima,” Blaine joked, but Kurt didn't really laugh. He could understand why Blaine was trying to joke and squeezed his hand.

“I went to Atlantic City with my folks that summer. It was a nice vacation, lots of sun and fun as they say. I spent a lot of time at the beach with people I met there. I thought one boy was very nice, and he seemed to like me. But I didn't understand. He liked me because I had money to spend. I bought all of them ice cream and candy and took them to the rides and everything. I didn't think about it at the time, but I always paid for everything we did. One night I was with them all and went to ride the ferris wheel. It was two to a seat and I had bought everyone tickets, but when it came to getting on, I had maneuvered myself to be standing next to the guy I had a crush on. We sat in the seat and when it got to the top, I was so excited that I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He didn't say anything, just gave me a funny look and I lost my nerve. We got off the ferris wheel and didn't say anything else that evening.

The next night was my last night before we left for home and I went down to the beach in the evening. Somebody called my name and I turned and it was the kid. I smiled at him, thinking he was there to say something nice to me – but the other kids grabbed me and pulled me under the docks. They all held me down and the kid....took a knife and carved...” Blaine just couldn't finish his sentence, and his hand went to his belly where the scars spelled out the hated word. He though he had his emotions under control after all this time, almost three years, all the feelings of terror came flowing back to paralyze him. The tears started and he knew he had lost all control and didn't want Kurt to see him like this.

He turned to pull his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs to try and hold himself together. He lay there, trying to be perfectly still so he wouldn't start shaking, when a warm hand came over his waist, pulling him close. He closed his eyes and just let Kurt do it, not knowing whether to stop it or how he would if he wanted to. But it felt nice, the supportive feel of an arm embracing him, the warmth of someone caring. He wrapped his own arms around Kurt's, sinking down in the blankets and tried to stop crying.

“It's okay, Blaine. It wasn't your fault at all. I'm sorry that happened to you, and I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier tonight when you were only trying to help me. I thought you were judging me because I am gay --but really, I was judging you because I had made assumptions about your orientation and social status...and well, everything. Please accept my apology, Blaine,” Kurt said.

Blaine turned in Kurt's arms to see his face. His eyes were as bright as ever and he was looking so seriously at Blaine.

“It's okay, Kurt. I forgive you. Let's not let that stand between us, okay? I am so tired, I just want to go to sleep. Are you okay with that? I can go to Cooper's room to sleep if you're uncomfortable with me being here. We may both pitch for the same team, but that doesn't mean we have to pretend to be okay with sleeping together if we're not.”

“I'm confused, “ Kurt said, “I thought it was okay that we were snuggling, but if it isn't – just say so.”

“Oh, I didn't mean that! Oh, we are a mess, aren't we? I am fine staying here if you feel comfortable. Your turn.”

“I am, too. Fine with staying together. Okay, come over here,” Kurt said in a soft voice and Blaine snuggled into his arms.

After a few minutes, Blaine got courage to say, “Tell me, Kurt.”

Kurt thought of pretending he didn't understand, but dismissed that. He did know what Blaine was asking him and after Blaine had told him his story, it was only fair to tell Blaine his.

“I was seven, and life was so good. I'd bake cookies with my mom, she would teach me to play the piano and we would sing together. But then she started sleeping. A lot. I was kind of sad about it, but at that age, what kid understands why adults do anything they do? And they never told me until the end. So, at eight, there I was, hand in hand with my Dad, watching them shovel dirt over my mom's casket. And life was never the same.”

“I go to a public high school, not a some elite preppie haven. So, needless to say, I'm bullied every day. Some days are worse than others and I felt hopeless for a while, but I joined Glee Club and life was kind of okay. But with the way I dress, the way I sing...rumors are always out there that I'm gay and I don't dispute them. I mean, I am gay and I'm not going to deny who I am – I'm just not going to discuss it. There was this one jock that harassed me more than most, slamming me into lockers, tripping me, throwing slushies in my face. I got angry one day and followed him into the locker room to confront him.

“He kept at me until he shoved me and I didn't back down. I though he was going to hit me...but he kissed me instead. It was the most awful thing that I ever had done to me at school. He tasted like a spittoon smells, like most of the football team, he chewed Copenhagen snuff. It was so bad... But it got worse. He kept asking me every day if I told anyone. Like I would?? Really? Who would I tell? Anyway, he was so paranoid that he finally told me he'd kill me. And I believed him. So, last week I got in a fight with him. I had a baton from cheerleading, and when he came at me, I hit him with the baton. In the balls. And I got suspended, but he got expelled for threatening me.”

“While I was getting the things out of my locker, two of my teachers came. I thought they were there to escort me off school property, but that wasn't it. They came to take me to the hospital. My dad had a heart attack and he's in a coma.

“That was when I made the decision...if he dies, I have nowhere to go. If he lives he'll find out what I've been hiding for years. I don't know what to do, Blaine. I don't want to die, but what else is there?” Kurt was crying now, but kind of silently, leaning his head into Blaine's shoulder and Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair to comfort him.

“Kurt? You're not alone. I'm here. There is time to think about how to handle this, and I give you my promise right now that I will stand by you. If it would make it easier for you to tell your dad with me holding your hand, I'll be there. Any support I can give you, Kurt, I will be there. My solemn promise.” Tears were in Kurt's eyes by the time Blaine finished saying this. He wished with all of his heart that it might be this easy, that the feeling of a friend having his back was this strong and this good when he went to tell his dad. Before he gave it conscious thought, he had leaned forward and placed his lips on Blaine's in a passionate kiss that left nothing to the imagination about how much Blaine's promise had meant to him.