Kurt didn’t sleep much that night, the pain being too much to fall asleep with. His entire being, his soul, ached with the kind of longing he didn’t even know he could feel. Finn opened the door sometime that night, worrying about his brother enough to check on him.
”You awake?” Finn whispered in to the darkness of the room, but even though Kurt was awake he didn’t answer. He didn’t want to talk to Finn, nor anyone who wasn’t Blaine and who couldn’t hold him like Blaine could. He hated what he had done to the younger boy so much that sometimes he was positive he hated Blaine. He hated Blaine because Blaine made him feel so strongly, and so much. Before Blaine he had started to close down, stopped wearing his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see, he had tried very hard to toughen himself. And then Blaine came along and there was no longer any reason for Kurt to shield himself, because he had someone who loved him and accepted him no matter what. But he had thrown it all away, foolishly so. He had lost the most important person in his life because he was focused on his carreer, and he loathed himself for it. There was no more Kurt and Blaine, there was only Kurt seperated from Blaine by the walls that he founded and built.
After a while of Finn recieving no answer from the bed that he could vaguely see in the dark, he closed the door and walked to his own bed room in their aunt’s gargantuan house. As a young boy Kurt had always felt that the house had a homely feel to it, but that night, the crumbled, broken man entangled in the sheets of his bed did not feel as if the house was homely. That would be the last feeling he got from that house. No, it was cold and dark and lonely. It wasn’t just the fact that Kurt was alone, because Kurt was content being alone, or at least he could pretend, but it was the loneliness. He couldn’t stand being lonely, never could. And here he was, crumpled up in a bed in a house that once felt familiar and warm to him, but had now lost it all. He was lonely.

Kurt was woken up the next day by hushed whispers. It felt like, somehow, the entire house was trying not to wake him up. The footsteps weren’t as loud as usual, and the house itself seemed to make less sound. There was something about it that terrified Kurt beyond belief, he just wasn’t sure what.
It took him about an hour after he woke up to drag himself out of bed and put on some clothes. He was trying to smile, trying his best to present himself as happy and put together, but he knew that he had blown it the night before. Not a single person in that house was going to believe he was happy, not after his break down. So, he sighed and got dressed. He was heading down the stairs when he first heard the voice. It wasn’t just any voice, oh no, it was a voice that Kurt Hummel would recognize everywhere at any time. It was his voice. Blaine’s. That was a voice that belonged to Blaine Anderson, and as Kurt heard it he almost fell down the final steps of the stairs. Because it couldn’t be, could it? Kurt was surely losing his mind. He had to be. There was no way that Blaine was in this house right now, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t be.
”So, what am I doing here?” Kurt put a hand on the wall as if to steady himself against the blow. There was absolutely no way he was mistaken. He drew in a shaky breath, but didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could. Why was Blaine here, what was he doing?
”Well, as I told you on the phone last night, there’s something wrong with Kurt,” Finn spoke, and Kurt’s eyes widened. Had they called Blaine because he broke down? Had he really brought this on himself?
”He – he seems broken, Blaine. I don’t know how long he’s been this way, but I have a pretty good guess.” He heard someone move around the room downstairs, but he still couldn’t find the willpower to move. Because Blaine was inside that room. Wonderful, beautiful and strong Blaine was in there. The Blaine that had once been his, but that he had thrown carelessly away like a child throws away their toys when they get bored.
”Broken?” Blaine questioned, and Kurt could picture him so easily. Blaine would be raising his eyebrows, and his mouth would be quirked in that adorable way that meant that he didn’t understand what Finn was telling him. Of course he wouldnt, because Kurt had broken him, hadn’t he?
”He – I found him outside. He thought I was you. He broke down when he found out that I wasn’t – that you weren’t – ” Finn didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so instead he left it hanging in the air, and Kurt swallowed. This was it, he thought, this was when Blaine walked out of the door because that would surely be too much. But Blaine did not walk out, instead he stayed silent. Kurt was puzzled for a couple of seconds, still standing on the lower steps of the stairs.
”Is he upstairs?” Blaine breathed, and Kurt’s eyes widened once more. He was not ready for this, and he should be the one to be ready. Once again he was struck by that feeling of being a complete idiot for letting go of that boy downstairs. Blaine had clearly gotten over there to help him, but Kurt just didn’t know if he could let him, nor if it was possible. What if he was so broken that not even Blaine could mend him?
”Yeah,” Finn confirmed, and Kurt finally found the power to move. He quickly snuck back upstairs, and closed the door quietly behind him. It was only then, however, that reality really caught up with him. His breaths stuck in his throat, and he tried to choke them out. He fumbled towards the bed and threw himself down on it, not caring if he made any noise. The tears built up in his eyes, but he didn’t know why. Because it was only Blaine, goddammit, and yes, he hadn’t seen Blaine in about five years, but he shouldn’t be getting this damn emotional just about hearing his voice. He shouldn’t be getting this emotional at all, really. Last night had been an exception because he hadn’t bottled his feelings up, but why was he tearing up now, why was he letting his emotions run free? He could hear someone moving up the stairs, but it wasn’t Finn, nor his dad. It wasn’t Carole or his aunt either. The steps were too light, and Kurt realized that there was only one person it could be. He only knew one person who walked with such lightness, and he tried to swallow back the tears because Blaine could not see him like this. He quickly wiped his eyes on his sweater sleeve, and tried to comb his hair with his fingers, but it was no use. Kurt had an incredible bed head and his eyes were red and puffy.
There was a knock on the door, and Kurt closed his eyes, not responding to the knocks, nor the knocker. He heard Blaine clear his throat on the other side, and once again Kurt’s breath hitched in his throat.
”Can I – uhh – Kurt?” Blaine sounded so uncertain about what to do, but Kurt couldn’t give him any answer, whether it was affirmative or negative because Kurt seemed to be unable to speak, nor do anything else that required his brain. Somehow, it seemed, Kurt’s brain, heart and lungs had stopped working when Blaine said his name. Just hearing the sweet voice that Kurt was certain belonged to someone that did not belong on earth, did something to Kurt, but he couldn’t truly explain what. It was, or at least this is what he described it as, someone had torn his heart out of his chest and were repeatedly jumping on it, as well as tearing off big pieces. His words, not mine.
”Can I come in?” Blaine hesitantly finished, but Kurt was still unable to speak. Instead he nodded, which only later occured to him as a stupid thing to do since Blaine couldn’t actually see him, but Blaine took the silence as a yes, and the door opened.
”Hi,” Blaine said awkwardly, gazing at Kurt who was seated at the very edge of his bed looking, to put it mildly, like hell. Kurt just stared at him, but their was something in his gaze that broke Blaine, even if he knew it shouldn’t. There was something so broken in the older boy’s gaze, something so sad, and all Blaine wanted to do was fix it, but he knew he couldn’t, knew he shouldn’t. This was the boy that had broken him, and as bad as he felt for thinking it, he couldn’t help it. Maybe Kurt deserved it. There, he had thought it. Maybe Kurt deserved it for what he had done to Blaine all those years ago, but Blaine didn’t really believe that, he couldn’t.
”Finn called me,” Blaine explained, scratching the back of his head, looking around the room, obviously trying to avoid looking at Kurt.
”Why are you here?” Kurt whispered, and Blaine’s eyes landed on him.
”Finn called,” he said again, as if that explained everything, but to Kurt it explained nothing.
”God, Blaine, what are you doing here?” he yelled angrily, slamming his fist down on his bed. Blaine looked taken aback for a second, but then his expression, too, filled with rage. His eyes looked like they were boiling with the fury and agitation, and Kurt felt as if he had never laid eyes on a more beautiful sight.
”I came because Finn said you needed help,” Blaine hissed, ”but obviously you are still too self absorbed to see that I’m here to help!” He hadn’t meant for that last bit to slip out of him, but it had and he saw the effect on Kurt immediately. He wasn’t trying to shield himself from Blaine’s words, instead he looked as if Blaine had slapped him.
”Fuck, Kurt, I don’t even know why I dropped everything and flew out here, but I did and now I’m here so talk to me for christ’s sake!” Kurt shook his head, motioning with his head for Blaine to leave.
”Fuck it,” Blaine muttered to himself as he headed out the door. He didn’t walk back downstairs, instead he walked to the room he had been told was his for however long he wanted to stay. He wasn’t sure if he could even stay the rest of the day anymore. He closed the door behind him, and turned towards the bed. He needed to punch something, he needed to get that anger out of him before he broke something. He looked at the bed for a second before he started pounding it, but once he had started he didn’t seem to be able to stop. Most of the blows were directed at Kurt, but some at himself, because why the hell had he even come down here in the first place?
Before he knew it, tears were rolling down Blaine’s cheeks, but he didn’t stop punching the bed. Instead the punches grew harder, more violent, and even though Blaine was choking on his tears he didn’t stop, because he needed this. After a while, however, he was forced to stop because he was sobbing to violently to stand upright. He fell to the floor and tried his best to keep quiet because he didn’t want anyone to find him like this. He had done that exactly once before, when Kurt had broken him, and he wasn’t about to show anyone that Kurt still had that kind of power over him, least of all said boy’s family. Blaine curled up on the floor, and let his tears flow. There was nothing he could do to stop them anyway, stupid as he was. He had thought he was doing well enough to come down here and try to help walking perfection but he couldn’t, he wasn’t good enough, healthy enough some might call it, to help.

Kurt leaned back on the bed and stared up at the roof. He had heard Blaine punch the bed from his room, seeing as Blaine’s room was just down the hall. The walls were pretty thin and the house was old, but right now none of that concerned Kurt as it normally did. All that mattered right there, in that moment, was that he could hear Blaine’s sobs from down the hall, and he knew that it was his fault. It was his fault that Blaine was crying, that Blaine wasn’t strong. He had done that. And so, Kurt let his own tears fall freely.

Downstairs, they had heard it all, the entire encounter. They had also heard Blaine punch the bed, but none of them said a word. Even if they had something to say they just couldn’t make themselves break the silence.But as they heard both boys breathing raggedly, clearly sobbing, Finn muttered to himself ”What have I done?”