Then he went to his office to relax and received a call from Detective Vega, saying how they had a new lead on a suspect, but Kurt turned it down. He of course rushed home, finding his boyfriend sitting on the couch, looking through tuxedo pamphlets.

Kurt looked up at the sound of the slamming, his head cocked to the side, pondering. Blaine stared at him widely, as if he had grown a fourth head and it was singing show tunes.

"What?" He finally asked.

"Are you crazy?" Blaine questioned.

"Excuse me?"

"You turned down Detective Vega? Kurt, they might've caught the people who did this!" Kurt, who already stood from the couch, walked lazily into their bedroom, not bothering to stay and listen to his boyfriend. Blaine followed of course, continuing his rant. "What are you doing! How are you not excited? How are you not running down to the police station and checking out what they found? How can you just sit there!"

"Because I don't care, Blaine." Kurt announced, flipping through his kilt magazine.

Blaine stepped back, astonished. "Excuse me? Did you just say you don't care?"

"That is exactly what I said." Kurt replied, remaining unfazed by Blaine's distress.

"How . . . Why . . . What the hell Kurt!" Blaine shouted. "After everything, how can you just not care! What about everything you went through?"

Kurt put the magazine down, turning on his heel to talk out the door. "Exactly my point, Blaine."

Blaine followed again, his mind baffled. "What do you mean?"

Kurt turned, his expression mixed with sadness and dreariness. "It's been almost four months, Blaine. I worked my ass off just so I could act like a normal person again, and get cat scan after cat scan to make sure a tumor didn't form anywhere. I've had sleepless nights filled with nightmares and cold sweats. All of that is finally coming to an end. I'm beginning to sleep again and not fear every time I step outside, someone is gonna throw a brick at my head and call me a bad name."

"But after all those things, how could you not want to see it through?"

"I guess I'm just not like you," Kurt stated numbly. "I want it to end, Blaine. I want it to be over with. No more cops, no more bad dreams."

"Well, it's not gonna be over unless we do something about it. Those guys who hurt you, who hurt us, they're still out there, walking the streets, free as a bird, and I won't rest until they're locked away."

"This isn't your fight!" Kurt cried.

Blaine stopped and stared. "Not my fight? Not my fight? Kurt, it became my fight the moment I laid eyes on you. It became my fight the second I slipped that ring onto your finger. And it became my fight the moment you started walking down that alleyway. Don't try to tell me this isn't my fight, when I've been with you, every day, cheering you on, knowing we'd make it out of this okay, because those guys would be found. That doesn't fly with me Kurt, and I won't let it end like this."

Turning away, Blaine walked out the door and left the apartment. He went to the police station and spoke to Detective Vega, explaining that he was going to do whatever he can to help the process. They explained they had several suspects, and would be ready to form a line-up, but it had to be Kurt to point the guy out. Blaine cursed himself, knowing Kurt wouldn't do it. He explained this to detective Vega, who was very on edge about it.

Apparently she'd seen too many hate attackers walk off, and didn't want this one to be the same. She liked Kurt, and thought he was a great person, and deserved to have his case closed. Blaine made a deal with her, saying if he had a month to convince Kurt, then the line-up would be set. It was hard, of course. Some of the guys could go on the run, which would fuck it all up for them, but they had to take the chance.

Detective Vega granted him the month, and Blaine set out on his challenge.