He wakes, immediately sitting bolt upright, sweat dripping off his brow onto his already soaked sheets, his heart pounding so hard it might shatter his rib cage. He runs a hand through his damp curls, trying his best to forget the chilling nightmare. Breathing slowly, he rubs a hand over his face, hoping it might somehow rid him of the terrifying images. He looks to his mound of clothes, dreading getting ready for school, but knowing the distraction is better than him sitting in his hotel room watching TV, leaving him open to his terrible nightmares creeping into his thoughts. Sighing, he throws the damp sheets off of him, grabbing some clean clothes, and heading into the tiny bathroom. He turns on the shower tap, pulling off his tank top, the material sticking to his wet skin. He turns to face the small mirror, tentatively prodding his bruised chest, wincing when he applies pressure. He pulls his tracksuit pants off, his underwear following.

As he steps into the warm water, his body relaxes. The cascading water soothing the aches throughout his body, his forehead leaning against the cool tiles, his eyes fluttering closed from the relief. Unfortunately, a nagging thought interrupts his peace.

Kurt.

What is he going to do? He'll have to face him today, but the worry is Blaine might scream, because all day, yesterday, all he did was resist the urge to just scream at Kurt. Sure, he does seem guilty, but other than making him breakfast and cuddling, he hasn't really made up for giving up on them, but the last thing Blaine wants is for Kurt to leave him again. So, because he's so terrified of losing Kurt, he'll keep his mouth shut, and just get on with the day. Blaine doesn't realise he's started to bang his head on the tiles, his frustration with his situation knowing no bounds.

What on earth am I gonna do?

********************************************************************************

Placing his car keys in his mouth, grabbing his bag in one hand, his wallet and phone in the other, he pulls the door closed with his foot, the lock clicking. Blaine heads to his car, his clothes and food already in the backseat or the trunk, he pulls the door open, dropping his messenger bag on the passenger seat, and closing it again. Pulling the keys out of his mouth he locks the car, and begins to walk to reception, shoving his phone into his pocket. Walking into the room, he smiles at the receptionist, her eyes lighting up at the sight, her own smile in place.

"Hey, just wanted to check out. Can't afford another night this week." Blaine says, disappointment lacing his words as he gets ready to pay for his stay.

"That's too bad. And you don't have to pay, your Mom already has." The girl says sweetly.

"Yeah, but for the room service.." Blaine queries, holding out his last fifty dollars.

"Oh..yeah," the receptionist takes the money, her eyes lingering on Blaine.

"It's so cool your Mom pays for you to sleep in a hotel. How many girls must you have over?" She asks, wonder in her eyes.

Blaine chuckles awkwardly.

"Uh..none actually, it's not all that cool, not really. She only does it so we both get a break from each other…"

"I saw that girl last weekend, and she didn't leave until the morning…" The girl teases, bitting the top of her pen.

"Yeah, we're just friends." He says, putting his wallet away.

"It's okay. Player's got to play, right?" She giggles.

"Yeah, say did you see that guy yesterday?" He asks, a small smirk on his face.

"The guy that stayed the night? Yeah. You just slept on that mini chair right?" She responds, not taking as much care with her flirtatious tone.

"No. We cuddled all night. Yeah, he's such a great boyfriend. Anyway, see you!" He smiles, turning around and leaving the building, trying to keep from bursting into laughter from the glimpse of her gobsmacked face.

Jogging over to his car, he pulls out his keys and unlocks it, jumping into the drivers seat. All his previous worries of today, forgotten, at least for now.

********************************************************************************

He jogs down the stairs, almost tumbling over when Burt steps in front of him at the last step. His face is stern, meaning Kurt's in trouble.

"What's going on with you?" He asks calmly.

"Me? Nothing, I've just been hanging with Santana this weekend." Kurt answers, trying to keep his face from giving away his lie.

"I know you haven't. I called her Mom yesterday morning to see whether you were coming home she said she hadn't seen you at all." Burt states, his eyes hardening.

"Ahh…" Kurt murmurs, knowing there's no excuse he can make now.

"What's going on?" He asks, his voice louder.

"I…well.." He tries to think of something, anything to stall his father, but there's nothing.

"Tell me!" Burt yells, Kurt jumping in fright, never seeing his father so angry.

"I can't!" He responds, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

"Why not?"

"Because I promised, okay?" He yells, furious with his father's reaction.

"You promised you'd tell me everything, just as I promised you!" Burt bellows.

"I know, but…please just give me some time, Dad! Please!" Kurt begs, trying to keep from crying.

Burt sighs, furrowing his brow in thought, his eyes never leaving Kurt's.

"Tell me later tonight, okay? And don't you dare lie to me! Now get your damn butt to school!" He finally answers, his gaze softening.

Kurt nods and walks around him, opening the door, about to step out.

"Kurt," Burt calls, Kurt turning to look at him. "I'm sorry for yelling, okay?"

Kurt smiles, walking over to his father and wrapping his arms around him, hugging him as tightly as possible, Burt returning it with equal force. They both let go, and Kurt waves goodbye before stepping out of the house, and making his way to his car. His mind dreading the confession he has no choice, but to tell.

Oh, crap!

********************************************************************************

The loud early morning chatter makes his head pound, the slamming of lockers sounding like gunshots. He forgot how annoying the school atmosphere was, everyone smiling and chatting, while he tries to figure out what's the best position to sleep in so he doesn't get a seat belt latch in his back. A light tap on his shoulder makes him jump in fright, turning around to face the perpetrator.

"Hey, you okay?" Kurt says, running a hand down Blaine's arm.

"Fine, just startled me," he mumbles, turning back to his locker, trying to figure out what he has this morning.

"Okay. I was wondering…" Kurt says, his eyes falling from Blaine's face.

"Do you…want to….maybe…stay at my place tonight?" He asks hopefully, bitting his lip in worry.

Blaine sighs heavily, Kurt's face falling almost instantaneously.

"Look, just because you've forgiven me, doesn't mean I've forgiven you." Blaine grinds out, slamming his locker and walking off.

Kurt fights the desperate urge to cry, his lip trembling profusely. Breathing out slowly, he turns around, and heads for his first period class.

********************************************************************************

He shouldn't have said that, he didn't even want to say it. Well, that's not true, he'd been so angry at Kurt recently, and yes, he did mean it. He hadn't fully forgiven Kurt, but the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Kurt like that.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

He spent the rest of the day stewing in regret, yet still furious with Kurt. He speaks to no one all day, doesn't eat lunch, just stays lost in thought. Until Santana catches him at the end of the day.

"I know you can hear me! Stop walking away!" She screams down the hallway, her ranting receiving a few confused looks.

"It's none of your business, Santana. Not your problem," Blaine yells back.

"Oh no you don't." She mumbles, running up to him. Grabbing his ear, she drags him into an empty classroom, Blaine complaining about the pain.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go!" He pleads.

She releases her death like grip, Blaine rubbing his ear.

"What the hell did you say to him?" She yells, her eyes blazing.

"Nothing! And how do you even know? He told you, didn't he?" Blaine counters, grinding his teeth in anger.

"He didn't say anything. I saw you in the hall. He looked devastated after you spoke to him! What did you say?" She demands, her eyes never leaving Blaine's.

"I told him…I haven't forgiven him, because I haven't. And why should I? He left me!" Blaine yells.

"And what about what you said to him, huh? You called him a 'disgusting fag!' I'd be obeying his every command if he forgave me for that! And you can't even get over the fact he was upset with you!" Santana explains, struggling to comprehend Blaine's motives.

"He left me! Just like everyone else! If he truly loved me, he would have fought for me!" Blaine wails, bitting his lip to stop himself from bursting into tears.

"Blaine. He is fighting. Going to your hotel and hearing you out, accepting you, apologising profusely, is him fighting. And yes, Kurt did tell me that, after thanking me for taking care of you!" She says, her tone softer, trying to make Blaine understand, and hopefully see sense.

"Well, you know what? Don't worry about me anymore, you don't have to look after me anymore! So just stay out of my life! Because it's none of your goddamn business!" Blaine bellows, turning and storming out of the room, leaving Santana alone and exhausted.

She pulls out her phone, dialling a number, knowing she has no choice, but to call reinforcements.

"Hello? Is Claire there?"

********************************************************************************

Right hook, left jab, uppercut, jab, jab.

Puck's terrified to tap his shoulder, mainly because it seems as if Blaine's trying to punch the punching bag off of it's pin. The reason Puck even wants to bother Blaine, is, surprisingly, because he's worried about him. He heard that Kurt stayed over, a couple of nights ago, so that means they're back together, right? He really wants to talk to him, a new found fondness for his 'bro' having developed.

Blaine sighs, dropping his fists so they fall loosely by his sides.

"What do you want, Puck?" Blaine says sternly, not turning to face him.

"Are you and Kurt back together?" Puck asks innocently.

"I dunno. He stayed over one night and he's forgiven me, but I don't know if I've forgiven him." He answers, his fists coming back up to continue his assault.

"Okay. Are you okay?"

"Fine!" He grinds out, punching the bag.

"Okay! Here's that guy's number for the job. Call him before the weekend and you can start working Saturday afternoon, okay?" Puck says, handing Blaine a piece of paper, him taking it slowly.

"Thanks." He mutters.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" 

Sighing once again, he resists the urge to scream.

"I'm fine!" He yells, grabbing his bag, and storming out of the locker room.

Puck's tempted to grab him before he can leave, but resists, knowing it'll do more harm than good, silently hoping Santana will somehow sort this out.

********************************************************************************

The door slams closed, dread weighing down his heart. What is he supposed to say? He was hoping to get Blaine to reveal all that's happened, but now he'll just have to tell it himself. Even if it's not his secret to tell. None the less, he has to confess to his father, he promised.

"Hey, Kurt." Burt says as he walks into the living room.

"Hi," Kurt replies, a little too eagerly.

"Okay, what's happened?" Burt asks, instantly knowing something is wrong.

"Nothing," Kurt says brightly, his demeanour soon changing as his father looks to him sternly.

"I can't tell you today…" He mumbles, eyes falling to the ground.

"About what's been going on?" Kurt nods.

"Why not?" Burt demands, tired of Kurt keeping secrets.

"It's not my story to tell…" Kurt answers, his answer making him seem so innocent.

Burt sighs, holding the bridge of his nose.

"Kurt, you promised," he grinds out, he wasn't one to get angry with Kurt, unless he began lying and keeping secrets.

"I know! And I promise I will tell you, but can you just wait a couple of days? Please?" Kurt pleads, his eyes coming up to meet his father's.

Burt stands silently, considering Kurt's plea, believing if he doesn't answer soon, Kurt may just get on his knees and beg. Sighing one last time, he answers.

"Fine, but you have to tell me this week, and you can't go anywhere this weekend, okay?"

Kurt smiles with relief, nodding in response.

"Thank you, Dad." He says earnestly, Burt giving him a tight smile before turning and heading into the kitchen.

Now all Kurt has to do is somehow convince Blaine to stay over and tell his father everything.

Wonderful….