The skin of his hands turned steadily pinker, becoming raw and even breaking in places, but still Kurt continued to scrub at the coffee stain on his shirt. He scrubbed at the shirt until his fingertips stung and his arms began to ache with the effort, and then he rinsed it off and flung it onto the counter beside the sink.

As soon as Rachel and Sam had dropped him off home, hed filled the laundry sink with warm, soapy water, hunted down a clothes brush, and had started frantically scrubbing at the stain. Hed put every ounce of his anger, frustration, and hurt into his effort to get that stain out of his shirt. If the coffee hadnt ruined it then the forceful scrubbing probably had.

Blinking back tears, Kurt glared at the damp shirt. The stain could still be faintly seen, a light brown colour forming an irregular splatter shape across the pale blue material; he would need to get the shirt dry-cleaned. Whether it was worth paying someone to remove a stain caused by bullies was another matter entirely. Maybe he should just throw it out and try and forget about it.

Arms crossed over his bare chest to ward off the chill, Kurt glared at the shirt dripping water on the floor, as though it were the cause of his problem instead of them. With a heavy sigh, he snatched the shirt up and held it over the sink to squeeze the worst of the water out of it. Hed take the shirt to the drycleaners tomorrow. Hed worked hard to save up the money to buy it, he wasnt going to throw away all of that effort now.

By the time his dad and Carole arrived home, he had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and his stained shirt was drying in his bathroom where nobody would see it. When he was asked about his afternoon with Rachel and Sam, he lied and said it was great and that theyd planned to return and get ice cream again before the end of summer. Neither of them suspected a thing.

He felt a pang of guilt when the conversation shifted onto something else. He didnt like lying to his family, especially his dad. Theyd been extremely close since his mom had died, and until the bullying had escalated hed never purposefully kept anything from him.

Hed been keeping the extent of his bullying a secret since the start of junior year when it had abruptly escalated from mildly upsetting to sometimes terrifying. Back then he had simply just wanted to avoid making people worry about him. Now didnt seem like the best time to reveal how bad things were; not with his dad still recovering from a heart attack.

He did his best to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened and managed to pretend all was well right the way through dinner and watching some TV afterwards. Hed become so used to pretending insults werent echoing in his head and bruises werent making his body ache that it was easy to keep his secret behind locked doors. He was an expert at this.

He didnt allow his game face to slip until he was alone in his room later that evening. The moment he let his guard down the insults rang in his ears, the cruel laughter bounced around inside his skull, and his skin stung where the coffee had splashed against it. It hurt almost as much second time around with only the memories attacking him.

With his chest tightening, Kurt ambled across the room and slumped down on the edge of his bed, hunching over himself with his elbows resting on his thighs.

Hed never been the target for homophobic bullying outside of school before. Somehow it seemed more scary and real when it was happening on the street instead of the school halls, even if it was someone from school harassing him. At school there was some restriction on what bullies could do because of the number of people confined in one building who could witness it, and there was that hopeful ray of light at the end of the tunnel that was graduation. Knowing that he would soon be leaving school and the bullying behind was what got Kurt through the school day, what got him to dust himself off and march away with his head held high after a jeer or a locker shove. There was a use-by date on high school bullying; no such thing existed outside of the sheltered environment of school. Kurts eyes had been suddenly, horribly opened to the realization that he could potentially be a target for harassment anytime, anywhere. The pain and humiliation of bullying didnt end with the school day or become a distant memory after graduation. The risk of some ignorant, homophobic bully picking on him because they didnt like who he was would always be there. Hed never really appreciated that until now.

Feeling achingly helpless, Kurt flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The prospect of harassment following him out of school was bleak, but at least he had an escape from it all, a way of sort of living in the different world of his dreams. While most aspects of this world were warped and time was unpredictable and fluid, he was still conscious and still receiving a break from cold, harsh reality. The dreams he shared with Blaine were even better. In these he also had someone who cared about him; it was enough to make dreamworld even more tempting. It was a much better deal than most victims of harassment got, and for that he was grateful.

Feeling a little better about it all, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Blaine. As the phone rang, he got up and began getting ready for bed, grabbing his pyjamas and unlacing his boots.

"Hey," Blaine answered.

A smile spread across Kurts face upon hearing Blaines voice. "Hi." He wiggled his left foot and kicked his boot off. "How was the rehearsal?"

"About how you would expect the first rehearsal to be: mayhem. Lots of arguing and complaining and not much actual rehearsing."

Blaine was the pianist and music coordinator for a local childrens theater groups summer musical production. It was a voluntary job that he did throughout the year on a once weekly basis, but during summer vacation the group did a big musical production, meaning Blaine put in a lot of hours teaching the kids to sing the songs and then playing the piano for the rehearsals and performances. Though Blaine sometimes complained about the kids being bratty or having to play the same song over and over again, Kurt knew it was something he loved doing.

Kurt kicked his other boot off and scooped them up to put away in his closet. "Has that Rachel girl finally accepted that she cant be the lead in every play?" he asked as he put his boots away. Tilting his head to one side, he tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder, shimmied out of his sweatpants, and then pulled on his pyjama pants.

Blaine laughed. "No, she hasnt accepted it. She was the one doing most of the complaining."

Kurt smiled. Blaine had told him about this one girl in the theater group who was determined to be a star. She sounded so much like Rachel Berry that Kurt had nicknamed her ‘Rachel. During their phone call a few days before, Blaine had told him all about casting for the play and how Rachels young doppelganger had thrown a fit at not getting the leading role but the part of one of the other main characters instead. Having known Rachel for so long, Kurt pitied Blaine having to deal with this little girl during the production of the play for the rest of the summer vacation.

Putting his phone on speaker, Kurt finished getting changed and then sat down at his vanity to put some moisturiser on. He listened to Blaine tell him in detail about how the rehearsal had gone as he rubbed splotches of cream into his cheeks. He found listening to Blaines voice while he went through his evening routine soothing; he could no longer imagine getting ready for bed without the soundtrack of his voice in the background.

"So how was your day?" Blaine asked. "Did you end up going out with your friends?"

Kurt capped his jar of moisturiser and scooped up his phone again, turning it off speaker. "I got ice cream with Sam and Rachel. It was nice." He hesitated, wondering how much to say. "That was, until I ran into one of the homophobic morons from my school and some of his idiot friends."

"What happened?" Blaine asked, his voice frantic and full of concern. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Kurt forced a light laugh that ended up coming out stiff and wrong. "Im fine," he assured him. "They just sneered a bit and threw a drink at me; nothing that Im not used to."

He could almost hear Blaines uncertainty and reluctance to brush the issue off. "Were Rachel and Sam with you when it happened?"

"No, wed gotten separated on a busy street and I took a side street to catch up to them and avoid the crowds."

Blaine was silent for a moment and Kurt knew he wasnt happy. He could picture what Blaines expression would be like: mouth downturned, brow furrowed, eyes more brown than gold. He had been right to withhold the full details of what had happened; Blaine was probably going to worry about him as it was.

Blaine let out a deep sigh. "They didnt hurt you?" he said questioningly.

Even though he knew Blaine couldnt see him, he shook his head. "They didnt. Im fine, Blaine, really. The worst damage was to my shirt; Im going to have to get it dry-cleaned tomorrow."

"What did they throw at you?"

"Coffee," Kurt sighed glumly. He looked through the open bathroom door at his damp shirt draped over the towel rail. "Ive tried everything I know of to get the stain out, but you can still see it."

Blaine hummed in response, and then asked, "Do your parents know what happened?"

Turning his back on his stained shirt, Kurt readjusted his grip on his phone. "No, I didnt want my dad to worry, especially so soon after a heart attack." He shifted his position on the vanitys stool. This was coming uncomfortably close to the worry hed had earlier about how much his dad and Carole knew about the bullying.

"Just promise me youll tell them if the bullying gets worse - that youll get help," Blaine said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kurt swallowed. "I will; I promise."

By the time he and Blaine said goodnight, he was sure he had him convinced that he hadnt been affected by the coffee-throwing bullies all that much. He didnt feel too relieved about this; he doubted Blaine would have believed him so easily if theyd been speaking face-to-face.

He worked in the garage the next day, wearing oil-stained overalls and spending hours bent over engines or staring up at the undersides of cars. He revelled in getting his hands dirty and fiddling with the intricate workings of cars until he got them running smoothly again, a fact that had shocked Rachel when hed told her he enjoyed being at the garage. Apparently it was something that didnt go hand-in-hand with his fashionista, musical-loving self.

As he waited for a car to be raised up on a jack, absently watching his dad finishing up with a customer, he decided he would tell his dad and Carole about visiting Blaine that night at dinner. He didnt spend hours mulling over when or how to tell them, it just suddenly became set in his mind that he should tell them that evening and he would tell them straight. They needed to know he was sharing his dreams with someone amazing and why he so desperately wanted to go to Massachusetts to visit him. Before today hed been worried about how they would take the news and not being given permission to go and visit Blaine, but yesterdays events had put things into perspective. He couldnt be so hesitant in a world that didnt tiptoe around him.

He waited until dinner was served and they were all seated at the table, tucking into their food.

"You remember the guy I have shared some of my dreams with - Blaine?" Kurt asked, his casual tone only wavering slightly.

Carole looked up from her plate to peer curiously at him, while his dad chewed his mouthful of food slowly, his eyes never straying from Kurts face, before swallowing and saying an affirmation.

"Yeah, youve mentioned him a few times."

"Well, weve become... closer these last few weeks - were friends now." Kurt prodded a slice of tomato with his fork, not feeling up to eating until this conversation was over. In spite of all of his determination to do this, his confidence had wavered slightly now that he was actually telling them.

"Just through your dreams?" Carole wondered.

Kurt shoved the tomato aside. Of course Carole would pick up on that right away. "Weve been talking on the phone as well."

His dad scooped up another forkful of salad. "I didnt know you could exchange phone numbers through dreams."

"We just recited our numbers and I woke up with Blaines number in my head." Kurt shrugged. "Like how you remember any dream, I guess."

Carole smiled at him. "Well, I think its nice you two are getting along so well; you may end up sharing dreams for the rest of your lives."

Kurt smiled blandly. "Yes, and its because we are getting along so well that we decided we want to meet each other in person."

The clattering of cutlery against china and the sound of chewing abruptly ceased as his dad and Carole froze to stare at Kurt. Kurt fidgeted under their collective gaze, running a finger repeatedly down over the edge of the table.

"You want to meet each other," his dad repeated, and though he wasnt exactly asking a question, Kurt nodded in response. "Where would you be meeting? Do you even know where Blaine lives?"

Kurts finger froze against the table rim and he inhaled deeply, his eyes flicking between his dad and Carole. "Thats the thing: Blaine lives in Massachusetts. Id have to travel out there to visit him."

His dad exhaled slowly and exchanged a look with Carole. "Kurt, I know you share dreams with this guy and have been texting him and stuff, but how well do you really know him?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but his dad cut him off before he could say anything. "And we dont really know him at all! You cant expect us to happily let you go to another state to meet him."

Forcibly pushing down the anger determined to bubble up and spill out of his mouth, Kurt tried to think of a way to convince them that meeting Blaine was a good idea.

"Blaine is a good guy, hes not some mass murderer," Kurt stammered out. He floundered for a moment, trying to articulate why meeting Blaine was so important to him without revealing the recent change in their relationship. "I dont think you fully understand these dreams I have with him, but we cant manipulate who we are or deceive each other like you can outside of a dream." Kurt let his hand slide off of the table onto his lap as he slumped back in his chair. "Its not like that. I just want to meet my friend - and he feels the same way."

His dad considered him silently for a moment and then Carole spoke up.

"Were still a bit concerned with you going so far away to visit someone we barely know," she said gently. "Im sure you can understand why thats difficult for us."

Biting his lower lip, Kurt nodded. He could feel himself deflating as the hope and excitement of getting to meet Blaine in person slowly began to leach out of him. He wouldnt back down on this without a fight, but he knew from experience that his dad refusing firmly without a hint of wavering from the offset didnt bode well. He hadnt been given a firm no yet, but he could sense it coming.

"Would it help if you talked to Blaine on the phone?" Kurt offered. "Maybe his parents, as well?"

His dad cocked an eyebrow at him. "So youll be staying with Blaines family?"

"I- I think so. Nothings been confirmed yet, but I think thats what Blaines been saying."

Gazing at Kurt contemplatively, his dad scratched his chin, before turning to exchange another long look with Carole. Kurt waited for what he knew would be the determining answer with bated breath. Finally they looked back to Kurt, their expressions impossible to decipher.

"I want to speak with Blaine and his parents on the phone first," his dad said.

A spark of hope, excitement, and delight bloomed inside of Kurts chest. He jerked upright, knocking his fork so it scraped noisily against the edge of his plate. "So I can go? I can visit Blaine?"

Smiling, his dad nodded. "If it all checks out with his parents, yes, you can go."

Beaming, Kurt picked up his fork again and returned to his cooling dinner. He couldnt wait to tell Blaine the good news.

With the situation with Kurt rapidly spinning out of control, Blaine scrambled to find a way to sort it all out. He spent many an hour trying to think of a way for Kurt to visit under his parents noses and he approached his parents multiple times with the intention of telling them that Kurt would be visiting, only for his throat to close up every time he tried. His sense of panic increased each day he went along with Kurts planning for the visit until he found himself no longer looking forward to their phone calls.

It wasnt until Wes invited him over to one of his regular gaming nights that Blaine realized hed missed a potential source of a solution to his problems. Even if Wes himself couldnt find a way to have Kurt over to visit without angering his parents, talking the issue over with his friend may help clear the whole thing up in his head and allow him to resolve it himself. He couldnt believe he hadnt thought of talking to Wes before.

He arrived at Wes house with the intention of sitting down somewhere quiet with him and discussing the issue. However, when he entered the basement and found it full of their friends, laughing and shouting at the video game being played, Blaines resolution to draw Wes aside died; there were too many people there, it would be too conspicuous. Instead, he threw himself into having fun with his friends: joining in on playing the video games, shouting advice and comments to others playing, and laughing at jokes. He had to make more of an effort to enjoy himself and he kept having to forcibly beat down thoughts of Kurt, but he managed.

A few hours later he found himself alone in the kitchen with Wes, fetching more snacks and drinks for everyone. As he grabbed bags of chips from the cupboard, he realised he had no excuse for not talking to Wes now.

With inexplicable nerves fluttering in his stomach, he opened his mouth to try and talk to Wes, but balked at the last second, closing his mouth and busying himself fetching more snacks. He tried again. And again. And another time...

Wes slammed the bottle of soda he was holding down on the benchtop and spun to look at him, making Blaine jump.

"Whats up?" Wes asked, fixing Blaine with a fierce eye. "I know somethings bothering you; youve got that weird look on your face, like youve got painful indigestion or something."

For a split second, Blaine set his jaw and went to shake his head in protest, but Wes narrowed his eyes at him and he dropped his defensive stance, allowing his shoulders to slump in defeat. There was no escape now. He went to try and explain everything, but found himself unable to do anything but shuffle his feet under Wes stern stare.

Wes shot a glance over his shoulder at the open kitchen door. "Is it about the guy from your dreams?" he asked in a low voice.

Blaine swallowed and nodded.

Wes expression softened but he didnt say anything, instead looked at Blaine expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

Blaine cleared his throat. "He- Uh, my parents..." He sighed. "I told my parents about Kurt and they flipped. I have to go back on treatment."

Wes rubbed at a spot above his left eyebrow and let out a slow breath. "I know weve been over this, but you dont have to do what your parents want you to do. They cant force you to have treatment."

Hopes of finding a simple solution to his problem rapidly fading away, Blaine looked at Wes wearily. "Wes, you know my stance on that."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Wes nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He quickly straightened up, his eyes opening to reveal a brightened, more optimistic expression. "At least its only a year until you move away to college. You cant tell me your perchance for obeying your parents every wish extends to long distance."

Blaine shook his head glumly. "Its not just that. Kurt and I have been planning to meet and he was going to come over here and visit for a few days, but theres no way that can happen now - can you imagine what my parents would do?" He looked searchingly at Wes, clinging to the last vestiges of his hope with pleading hands. "Unless you can think of a way to keep Kurts visit a secret from them?"

Wes blinked at Blaine incredulously until his expression shifted to one of exasperation. "You havent told Kurt about this yet, have you?"

The last remaining dully glowing sparks of hope that Blaine had been clutching desperately to, fizzled out and died. Resignation and self-hatred settled in to replace it, making him want nothing more than to curl up in his bed and let the horrible facts and feelings eat away at him, like he deserved. Unable to do so, he instead shook his head forlornly at Wes.

"He doesnt know your parents are terrified of your condition? That they hate everything about it and are desperately doing everything to get you cured?"

Feeling worse with each passing second, Blaine shook his head again. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes before welling up and gathering on the edges of his eyelids. His throat closed up with a tight thickness that made him swallow compulsively. He willed himself not to cry. He shouldnt be the one getting upset; he was the one who had screwed up. If anyone should be crying it should be Kurt.

Wes brow furrowed in sympathy. "You have to tell him, Blaine. You cant keep something like this from one of your friends, especially not one you have such a unique relationship with." His eyes narrowed at the shift in expression on Blaines face. "You are friends with him - arent you?"

The memory of the kiss flashed through Blaines head and he swallowed hard, fighting against the tears still threatening to fall. He had to clear his throat several times before he was able to speak. "I- yes. Yes, were friends."

Wes eyes searched his for a little longer, before he turned away and picked up the soda bottle again. "You have to tell him about all of this. You cant keep postponing meeting him until youve moved out, or whatever you were thinking of doing. You have to tell him the truth; hes bound to understand."

Jaw tight, Blaine nodded stiffly.

"Thanks, Wes." He forced a small smile in his direction.

Smiling more genuinely, Wes clapped him on the shoulder. "Any time." He replaced the cap on the soda bottle and moved to put it in the fridge. "Now help me take this upstairs before everyone starts complaining about the lack of snacks."

Over the next twenty-four hours, Blaine tried to think of the best way to explain everything to Kurt without it sounding like he was regretting their newfound relationship, or that he simply didnt want to meet him in person. He spent almost an hour staring down at a blank message to Kurt on his phone, the tiny cursor blinking at him mockingly as he attempted to type what he needed to say into a text. Eventually, he gave up, deciding a text message was too impersonal for what he had to say.

But during their phone call that night he still didnt tell him, not wanting to burst Kurts happy, excited bubble. Instead, he continued to play along with planning his visit, feeling sicker by the minute as the guilt swamped his insides, corroding his stomach. He felt positively ill by the time the call ended and he went to bed, so much so that he seriously wondered whether he was going to be sick on a number of occasions. It was awful, but he knew he deserved it for his cowardice.

The recovery dream he had that night when he finally fell asleep did very little to boost his mood or improve how he felt.

A week later and Blaine still hadnt told Kurt.

The minute he stepped into the coffee shop and met up with Wes at their usual table, Wes knew he hadnt done it. Wes took one look at Blaines face and his expression shifted from expectant to disappointed. Blaine hung his head in shame.

"Any you said you were a bad liar," Wes noted, effectively making Blaine feel even worse about his behaviour.

"I tried to tell him," Blaine protested weakly, his defence falling flat to his own ears.

Wes raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Did you? I dont think you could have tried that hard, Blaine."

Feeling truly ashamed of himself, Blaine avoided Wes eyes and fidgeted with his coffee cup, picking at the plastic lid.

Wes sighed heavily. "I know why youre holding back on this - I get it - but, you have to tell him, Blaine," he said gently. "You cant keep up this charade youve got going. You need to tell him, and you need to do it soon. Youre only making things worse by dragging it out."

Swallowing, Blaine nodded. "I know."

He felt Wes eyes on him, watching him silently for a moment.

"Youre going to meet me here at the same time tomorrow and youre going to have told Kurt by then - okay?"

Jerking out of his shameful slump, Blaine lifted his head to meet Wes stern gaze. For a second or two he felt a flash of panic, a knee-jerk urge to protest or do something to avoid filling the request, but then understanding and acceptance took over. He needed to do this. He had to accept that he couldnt please everyone; he had to tell Kurt the truth.

Blaine nodded again. "Okay."

Wes searched his eyes for a moment, as if looking for any sign that Blaine may not keep his word. Apparently satisfied, he dipped his head once in a nod. "Good."

When Blaine arrived home from the coffee shop later that afternoon, he spent the time until dinner thinking long and hard about how best to break the news to Kurt. He still stood by his earlier conclusion that a text message wasnt the best way to do it, which left him with only one option: to tell him over the phone that night.

His plans were dashed not even an hour later when Kurt texted him to say that he couldnt manage their phone call that night as he was seeing a late movie with friends. Blaine chewed on the inside of his cheek as he stared down at the text, feeling everything from relief at having a little more time until he had to tell him, and frustration that he couldnt bite the bullet and get it done in the time hed promised Wes. He went to bed that night with vague thoughts of calling Kurt the next morning.

He expected his night to be restless as he fretted over the situation with Kurt, but he actually fell asleep rather quickly - and found himself sitting on a low wall on a long deserted street. Without even seeing him, he knew Kurt was there with him. Looking up, he found Kurt walking over to join him on the wall.

"Hi," Kurt greeted, smiling brightly at him. His face fell when he took in Blaines strained and anxious expression. "Whats wrong? Has something happened to your family, or...?"

Blaine shook his head. "Everyones okay. I just- I have something to tell you." He shifted on the wall until he was facing Kurt, looking directly into his concerned face. "I told my parents about you the other day and they werent happy. Theyve always been scared of my condition and how it will affect me in the future, so theyre pretty horrified by the thought of me travelling. They think it means my condition has got worse, that its affecting me more and putting me at a greater risk of a sleep coma."

He paused to steel himself for revealing the worst part and Kurt exhaled heavily, looking sympathetic.

"Are they telling you to see a doctor again?" Kurt asked, his tone holding a note of familiarity, like he knew this response all too well.

"Yes - and they want me to go back on treatment and they have signed me up for a clinical trial."

Kurt made a noise of distaste, his nose wrinkling up. "Clinical trials are the worst. Do you really want to go through all of that?"

"No," Blaine sighed. "But I cant exactly say no to my parents."

There was a pregnant pause. Kurts expression shifted to one of confusion, his brow creasing into a frown.

"Thats not the worst part." Blaine cleared his throat nervously. "Im sorry, Kurt, but theres no way you can come over here to visit me now; my parents would freak out if you did and I hate to think how bad theyd become over doctors visits and treatment; theyd be unbearable. Ive tried to think of a way you could still come without my parents knowing, but I just dont think it would be possible any time soon. Im so sorry."

There was an even longer pause, and then Kurt said, "Okay, maybe some other time." His voice was small, clipped, and his face had become stony, only his eyes betraying how upset he was.

Blaines guilt worsened. He hated that he had to upset Kurt even more, but he knew he had to tell him everything now. He had to rip the Band-Aid off in one go; there was no sense in slowly peeling it off bit by bit.

"I- My parents are also not happy that Im sharing dreams with another guy. Theyve never been completely comfortable with my sexuality and they wouldnt hesitate to take away my phone and my computer if they knew I was in contact with you outside of dreams. I think they suspect I might be - theyve become suspicious about who Im talking to on the phone each night. Ive been lying and saying its my friend, Wes, but... I dont know how long theyll accept that answer." Blaine ran a trembling hand through his curly hair and heaved a sigh. "I think its best if we cut down on how often we talk to each other. Maybe we could reduce the phone calls to once a week? My parents always go out to dinner on Thursday night, so maybe then?"

While he had been speaking, hed noticed Kurts jaw had been clenching and unclenching, like he was holding back the urge to say something. He had lowered his gaze early into Blaines explanation, so he couldnt really tell what Kurt was thinking. From the set of his shoulders and the rigidity of his posture, Blaine knew he was upset.

After a tense moment, Kurt lifted his head, his eyes wide and pleading. "Cant you continue lying and say youre talking with people at the theater group or something? Or we could talk at a different time - earlier in the day or later at night when your parents are asleep," he suggested somewhat desperately. There was something else forming behind Kurts eyes, something bigger than his unhappiness over Blaine wanting to reduce their daily phone calls, something that made Blaines stomach flood with fear and his throat tighten in panic.

"That still wont work," Blaine said weakly. "Theyll still find out the truth."

A shadow passed over Kurts face and his cool expression screwed up into an angry scowl. He shot to his feet and waved his hands in agitation.

"And so what, Blaine?" he demanded, his voice loud and almost a growl. "They cant stop you from taking to me and they sure as hell cant stop you from sharing dreams with me."

Blaine flinched at Kurts harsh tones. Fear and panic overrode all of his remaining guilt and caused tears to well up in his eyes and his face to scrunch with emotion.

"No," Blaine croaked out. "But if they learn the truth theyll push for more doctors, more drugs - theyll think nothing of drugging me up." He stared up into Kurts face, his eyes wide and pleading, willing him to see that he was being forced into doing this. He had been backed into a corner by his parents and this was the only way out.

"They see travelling as a slippery slope, a downhill slide into being trapped in a dream forever." Blaine stood up and took a step towards Kurt, another bolt of fear shooting through him when Kurt stepped backwards away from him. "And Ive never been good at lying," he added in a choked voice. "Theyll find out. I cant hide anything from anyone."

The anger that had been flaring behind Kurts eyes had settled into a steady burn that Blaine found difficult to look at. Kurts jaw was clenched so tightly, cords of muscle stood out on his neck. His posture was stiff and unyielding. He stared unblinkingly at Blaine for a harrowing moment, before saying in a dangerously calm voice, "No, you cant."

The silence that followed had air so thick and heavy that Blaine found it difficult to breathe. Everything was spiralling, turning the view beyond Kurt into a featureless blur and intensifying his nausea. It was all going horribly, irreversibly wrong. Blaine felt as though his mind was still scrambling to catch up with where things had turned south. It had all happened so quickly.

Feeling lost, Blaine stumbled forward and reached out for Kurt. Whether he wanted to cling to him or to placate him with a reassuring hand, he wasnt sure, but he just needed to have Kurt accept his touch.

Kurt moved back out of his reach again, the skin around his eyes tight with strain. Blaines empty hand fell back to his side, his fingertips just brushing Kurts sleeve. Pain and panic flared through his chest.

"If you didnt want to do this anymore you should have just said so," Kurt said darkly. "I didnt realize this all meant so little to you; that it was just something you dreamed about, that was gone when you woke up. Well I wont bother you again, Blaine Anderson. If you see me in your dreams, dont worry: Ill be gone when you wake up."