Blaine hated that he woke up the next morning. If ever there was a time when he would have embraced slipping into a dream coma, it was now. Waking up meant facing what had happened and being alone with his thoughts. It also meant all of the guilt, the regret, the self-hatred, the loss - it was all hitting him full force, rolling through him in an incessant series of debilitating waves. He wished he could just close his eyes and sink into the mindless abyss of one of his recovery dreams, but now that he was awake there was no chance of that happening. He was a coward to wish for it; he deserved this pain.

For a while he lay in bed and tried to pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong. When he refused to lie for Kurt, when he didnt tell Kurt that first night on the phone, when he told his parents about Kurt... He pushed these thoughts away. It didnt matter, really. Hed screwed up and now he had to deal with the consequences. It was his entire fault.

Curling into a tight ball beneath his duvet, Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to block it all out: the look on Kurts face before hed turned and walked away from him, the echo of Kurts voice severing the bond between them, the sharp pain of loss in his chest. It was all in vain. He had to suffer through his pain.

Sometime later he began vehemently blaming his parents, fuming over their hatred and fear of his condition, their desperate need for him to be cured, and their discomfort with his sexuality. If they had been as accepting and accommodating as Kurts family, this wouldnt have happened. If they would let him make his own decisions and choose his own path in life, he and Kurt would still be together now.

But he was the one who didnt have the courage to do something his parents may not like. He was the one who couldnt bear the thought of not appeasing his parents.

It was a vicious cycle: the blame game. He went from blaming himself, to his parents, to Kurt for not seeing things from his perspective, and even to the bullies who had beat him unconscious outside a school dance, amplifying his parents concerns about his sexuality and fear of losing him to a world of unconsciousness. He went through them all in his head over and over again, pointing the finger at each of them and feeling everything from fury to helplessness, guilt to fear. No matter who he deemed responsible, no matter how much the burden of responsibility was shifted off of him, he never felt any better.

He forced himself out of bed eventually, resigned to the fact the he couldnt avoid facing the day. It was only when he looked at his phone to check the time that he remembered he was supposed to meet Wes later. He thought about texting him to cancel, but knew that would never sit right with Wes. He would be over demanding to know what was wrong before an hour had passed.

He thumbed over the screen of his phone to light it up again, hesitated, and then opened up his text messages. He swallowed as he looked at the messages from Kurt. Intuitively, he knew it would hurt if he read through those messages; he knew that. He knew that, and yet-

Heart thumping painfully, he opened the text conversation with Kurt and re-read the last message Kurt had sent him.

‘Im sure you will! Ill call you tomorrow at the usual time. Sweet dreams :)

Blaines eyes filled with tears, blurring the words on the screen. There would be no phone call from Kurt tonight and no texts from him throughout the day. Hed be lucky if Kurt ever spoke to him again. Theyd be spending the rest of their shared dreams avoiding one another, just like hed feared. There would be no more sweet dreams for him.

He idly clicked on Kurts name, opening his contact details. He wondered what would happen if he called or messaged Kurt and tried to apologize once more, to try and salvage a respectable acquaintance at least. He wondered if Kurt would reply, ignore him, or block his number. He wondered if it would ever be possible to gain Kurts trust again.

Blinking against the burning in his eyes, Blaine clicked out of Kurts contact and placed his phone back on the nightstand. Even if there was a chance Kurt would forgive him, it wouldnt be today; he had to give him time and space. It was the faintest possibility, the tiniest glimmer of hope, but it was enough to motivate him to get washed and dressed and to put on a brave face. He may not be good at lying, but he was good at hiding his feelings, especially when he was hurt. And with his face washed, the puffy redness around his eyes gone, and a smile on his face, who would know?

Wes knew.

It took him all of the few minutes of Blaine entering the coffee shop and getting his drink for Wes to realize it had all gone horribly wrong.

"Shit," Wes muttered as Blaine dropped into the seat opposite him, his pleasant smile sliding from his face. "Im guessing you told him, then."

Blaine stared at the cup of coffee he didnt particularly feel like drinking for a long moment, before he nodded jerkily.

"Shit," Wes muttered again.

The coffee cup in front of him blurred and Blaine swallowed thickly, willing himself not to cry. He would not cry in front of the many customers packed into the coffee shop and the barista who had looked at him with mild concern when hed accepted his drink from him. He would not.

He heard Wes pick up the waxed paper cup that held his drink and then set it back down on the table again. He seemed hesitant to ask Blaine about what had happened, yet he was clearly eager to know. Blaine didnt know if talking about it would help, but he was sure this was one situation Wes couldnt help him with. No one could help him fix this mess.

More for something to do with his hands than anything, Blaine took a sip of his coffee. The warm liquid hit his empty stomach, eliciting a small gurgling sound. He hadnt been able to face eating breakfast that morning, or lunch, and with no one around to make him eat, he had left the house to meet Wes on an empty stomach. He felt so sick and downright awful that he didnt even feel remotely hungry.

"I told him everything in the dream we shared last night," he said in a low, hollow voice. He didnt raise his gaze from the coffee in his hands, but in his peripheral vision he saw Wes freeze and lean closer to hear him better.

"I was going to tell him on the phone earlier that evening, but he had to cancel our phone call. I was relieved when I met him in my dream; I hadnt wanted to tell him over the phone. I told him my parents had learned that I had started travelling and explained why that scared them. He was sympathetic and understanding - I thought it would all be okay and that Id been worrying for nothing."

Feeling a little choked up, Blaine had to pause for a minute to get his emotions under control. Now that he was talking, it was a little easier to keep the words flowing, but the loss and self-disgust rose up in his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. Wes didnt prompt him or start firing questions, but waited patiently for Blaine to continue.

"Then I told him about how they werent happy about me sharing dreams with another guy," Blaine continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I told him he couldnt come to visit and that wed have to cut down on how much we communicated outside of dreams. I told him how my parents would react if they found out that he was more than just someone who was present in my dreams. He- uh..." Blaine had to swallow several times, blinking rapidly against the pressure of tears. "He wasnt happy. He tried to suggest ways we could still communicate regularly, but I told him every time that it wouldnt work. He got angry, accused me of not really caring about him, of just seeing him as someone I thought nothing of and forgot all about as soon as I woke up." A rogue tear slipped down Blaines cheek and he swiped at it viciously. "He ended it between us, told me he didnt want anything to do with me anymore." Blaines lips trembled and he had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

Wes let out a long sigh, but unlike what was often the case after listening to Blaine recount something that had recently happened to him, it was a sigh of sympathy instead of exasperation.

"Shit," he muttered again. He made a small angry noise. "Blaine, Im so sorry. If I hadnt provoked you into telling him..."

Finally raising his head to look at Wes anguished face, Blaine shook his head.

"No, you were right yesterday: I couldnt have kept this from him forever. Its my fault for telling my parents in the first place, or for being too scared to not follow their wishes for once, or-" He broke off, desperately trying to swallow down the sobs bubbling up in his throat. The tears were from anger and frustration at himself as well as losing Kurt and talking about it made it harder to keep the emotions contained as they wanted to escape with the words.

Wes face twisted with pain as he watched Blaine struggle to keep in control of his emotions. "I know you probably dont want to hear this right now, but if Kurt cant accept your reasons for restricting your contact and isnt willing to compromise, then he-"

"Dont," Blaine cut him off with a raised hand, screwing his eyes shut as if to block the sight of Wes speaking as well as the sound. Wes stopped talking immediately and though Blaine couldnt see him, he knew his expression was now even more concerned. He knew Wes meant well and was only trying to make him feel better, but he just couldnt handle such remarks at the moment.

He lowered his hand slowly and opened his eyes after taking several deep breaths. "I know you- I cant-" He shook his head helplessly. "I was the one who couldnt compromise," he said instead.

Wes frown deepened and Blaine took another sip of his coffee, avoiding his gaze. The drink he usually enjoyed left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue that didnt seem to clear away no matter how many times he swallowed.

The silence that had fallen between them lingered over the table for a good few minutes. Around them, people continued to talk and laugh, creating a low buzzing sound, as though they were all outside of some sort of bubble surrounding their little table. Blaine tried not to think about last nights dream, but it kept playing out in his mind over and over again, like a broken record. He was reminded of another aspect of his condition that he sometimes disliked: he never failed to remember his dreams.

He got so caught up in the memory of what may very well have been his last conversation with Kurt that he didnt notice Wes trying to get his attention right away. With some effort he wrenched himself back to the present.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked sincerely, eyeing him worriedly. When Blaine simultaneously shrugged and nodded, he added, "Its always difficult when the pain is fresh. You just need some time."

Despite his scepticism about the last point, Blaine nodded again. Right now it was hard to believe that he would ever feel better about the relationship hed ruined, especially since he would be reminded of it every time he saw Kurt in his dreams. They couldnt leave each others lives as was the usual end result for a relationship that ended badly. How could he possibly put this behind him and move on?

Wes hesitated, seeming to deliberate over something. "He might come round, you know," he said eventually. "He might think it through and decide to work with you."

Blaine highly doubted it, but he shrugged anyway. "Maybe."

"You had one argument, Blaine; couples argue all the time," Wes pointed out rationally. "You just need to give him some space for a little while and then apologise and explain everything again."

Blaine wasnt convinced. "Couples can also break up after one argument, especially when its over something as big as this." He shook his head, his forehead creasing into a deeper frown. "He thinks I dont care about him and never want to meet him!"

Wes watched him contemplatively, his eyes full of concern. "Dont give up on this so easily. If he means as much to you as you say, then you shouldnt let this go after one fight." When Blaine looked at him with pessimism and hopelessness, he added, "Fight to keep him, Blaine. Dont let your parents be the reason you lose him."

Blaine arrived home to an empty house. Despite this being a regular occurrence, he found the silence, the loneliness, to be more noticeable today. It felt like it was this sinister thing peering at him from around the corner like the imagined threat seen in the edge of vision in darkness. He needed noise to push it away - he needed the TV, music, voices - anything. If he let the silence be for too long it would sneak up on him and smother him.

He ran up to his room, making as much noise on the stairs as possible. There he turned on music, letting his iPod play whichever song he had been listening to last, and increased the volume until it filled the room and spilled into the hallway. He rummaged aimlessly through his closet and drawers, moving around a lot and making as much noise as he could, yet achieving nothing. When the weight pressing down on his chest had lifted enough for him to get enough air into his lungs to breathe properly, he stepped away from the closet and collapsed on his bed. The music was too loud; he reached over to turn it down. Now that it was over, he didnt really know what had just happened. He wasnt sure it was entirely to do with Kurt, either.

Wriggling on the bed, he tried to get comfortable enough to relax and enjoy the music. His phone was digging into him where it was placed in the back pocket of his pants. He lifted his hips up and pulled it out, moving to toss it to one side, and pausing.

The next thing he knew he was reading through all of the texts Kurt had sent him, working backwards from the most recent ones. Though he knew he shouldnt be torturing himself by doing this, he couldnt stop himself. Kurt was like the worst kind of drug to him.

He jumped when his phone pinged with a new text message, his pulse thumping loudly behind his ears. He scrambled to sit upright, his mouth dry and his limbs shaky with quivering muscles.

This could be it. This could be Kurt.

With trembling fingers, he opened up his messages and looked at the newest unread one. He had to re-read the name of the sender three times before it sank in. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. It wasnt Kurt. The message was from the director of the theatre company, asking him if he could come to tomorrows rehearsal an hour earlier to work on one of the lead actress solos.

His heart sank as crushing disappointment swept through him. He had really thought it might have been Kurt that time. He hated himself for getting so worked up, for setting so much hope on Kurt getting in touch with him.

Letting out another heavy sigh, he replied to the text with an affirmation, and then tossed the phone to the other end of the bed where he wouldnt be tempted to look at it. He needed to stop torturing himself by looking back at happier times and he needed to stop waiting on tenterhooks for a message that was never going to come. Kurt would probably never speak to him again. Kurt had said he wanted nothing more to do with him, and he seemed like someone who would keep his word.

Desperately needing a distraction, he went downstairs and sat at the piano. Running his fingers over the smooth keys was soothing and he soon started feeling calmer and less like a sensitive bomb that needed only the slightest trigger to set it off. He closed his eyes and played a few tunes, just anything that came into his head that he could play by touch alone. He couldnt always remember the entirety of a song, but whenever he was unsure of the next bar of music he smoothly transitioned into a new song without pausing his playing.

Playing like this enabled him to get completely lost in the music. Thoughts of Kurt were pushed to the deep recesses of his mind by the concentration, skill, and memory required to play. It was soothing: the peace of closed eyes, the smooth familiarity of the keys, and the loveliness of the music. He could feel the tension leaving his muscles at the break from the strain and intense emotions. In spite of his closed eyes it was the most hed paid attention to what was happening outside of his own head since the dream.

The blissful peace didnt last for long. He heard the front door open and his moms high heels on the wooden floors.

"Oh good, youre here," she said.

Reluctantly, Blaine stopped playing and opened his eyes. He turned on the stool to see his mom stretch over to place her keys in the designated box on the hall table, before looking back into the small music room.

"I wanted to talk to you about your treatment." She held up her laptop as if in explanation and then walked away, the sound of her heels disappearing into the kitchen.

With a wistful look at his piano, Blaine lowered the cover over the keys and then followed his mother into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the island counter, her laptop open in front of her, and her finger moving over the mousepad. Blaine stood at the opposite side of the counter from her, rested his hands on its cool surface, and waited.

"I got an email through today about your clinical trial," his mom explained, still clicking around on the computer. "It explains more about it and - here." She spun the laptop around and pushed it towards him so he could read the email open on the screen. Blaine scanned it unenthusiastically. It said he had to go and see one of the researchers conducting the trial in two weeks time where they would tell him more about the drug and confirm his eligibility.

"It says the drug theyre testing is a sort of sedative that dampens some of your brain activity while you sleep." His mom tapped a finger next to the relevant paragraph of the email. "An improvement on one of the drugs youve taken before."

Blaine nodded mutely, unable to respond in any other way.

His mom smiled, clicked out of the email, and closed the lid of her laptop.

"Now," she began, fixing Blaine with an intent look. "At your appointment with Dr. Lewis tomorrow you should tell her that youve signed up for this trial so she knows youre doing it, but since it will be a little while until you start taking the trial drug, you should ask if theres something else you could take in the meantime." She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "Just in case there is something that could help for now. After all, alleviating the symptoms slightly has to be better than no improvement at all."

Blaines feeling of helpless dread, which had been steadily rising since his mom announced she wanted to talk treatment with him, peaked. The overwhelming fragility from earlier returned. Hed forgotten he had a doctors appointment tomorrow.

"Im supposed to still be at rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. Ill have to leave early," he bemoaned.

His mom nodded sternly. "Yes, you will. Your health is far more important than playing piano for some kiddo group. You make sure youre at your appointment on time."

Blaine arrived at the clinic for his appointment the next day in a bad mood. The day had started off badly when he got out of bed after barely getting any sleep. Hed lain awake for hours the night before, worrying about what would happen if he saw Kurt, and then when he had finally fallen asleep, hed experienced an exhausting dream where hed been running through an endless maze of corridors, searching for an elusive exit.

Hed arrived at the theatre early, as promised, only to have to play the same few bars of music over and over again for the struggling soloist. The rehearsal itself had been busy and he felt bad for leaving early, and to top it all off he kept obsessively checking his phone for a message from Kurt, despite the deep pang of disappointment he felt each time he found none. He almost screamed with agitation when the receptionist informed him Dr. Lewis was running a bit behind schedule and he may have to wait up to twenty minutes, in a room full of coughing patients, nonetheless.

To try and regain some control over his rampant emotions, Blaine made himself read the flyers and posters pinned to a nearby noticeboard. His fingers itched to check his phone again, but he resisted, even going so far as to sit on his hands. It took every ounce of his concentration to remain calm and not give in to temptation. He felt a small burst of triumph when he was called through to Dr. Lewis office without having wavered once.

Dr. Lewis smiled at him as she showed him into her office.

"Its nice to see you again, Blaine. How are you?"

She closed the door and moved to sit down at her desk. Blaine copied her.

"Im good," he lied. "Enjoying summer vacation."

She nodded. "Thats about the only thing I miss from my school days. Youll probably never get that much vacation again - you should make the most of it." She rested her arms on the desk, her expression becoming more scrutinising as she looked at him critically. "How have you been without any treatment? Have you noticed any change in your sleep at all?"

Blaine exhaled slowly, choosing his response carefully. It crossed his mind to tell her everything: about Kurt, the travelling, and the mess they were in now. There was a chance she could help - perhaps she knew of someone who specialised in the relationships of travellers who could help? But telling her still seemed just as wrong as it had done on the day after his first shared dream. He and Kurt may be having problems and they may be affecting his sleep, but telling his doctor about this still felt as though he would be betraying something sacred. Even if he had already ruined that sacred something.

"I think it was good for me to take a break from being on treatment, but Id like to go back on it," Blaine told her. He laced his fingers together to hide the trembling. "Id like to try something Ive never had before, if thats possible."

Dr. Lewis eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. "Is there any particular reason for changing your mind?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, not really." He shifted self-consciously under the doctors gaze, hoping she wouldnt see through his façade. "The treatment was driving me a little crazy before, but now Ive had a break from that I want to get back to trying to cure this."

A stray thought entered his head and he wondered if those were his parents words or if his own feelings about his condition had reverted back to what they used to be now that he and Kurt were no longer on speaking terms. He pushed the thought aside. He and Kurt had only had one argument, there was a chance, even if it was only a slim one, that they could recover from this. While it didnt seem likely now, they could put this whole mess behind them and move on.

Dr. Lewis eyed him closely for a little longer, before looking away to make a note on her computer.

"Okay, well there isnt anything new, Im afraid. However, since you didnt try that last drug and music combination for the recommended eight weeks, I think it might be best if you try that again."

Blaine nodded. It didnt matter to him either way; it was just to keep his parents happy.

"Ive signed up for a clinical trial and Im going to see if Im eligible to participate in two weeks." He handed her a printout of the email describing the trial and she scanned it quickly.

"So you just want to take something until this starts?" she asked. At Blaines affirmation, she set the paper down and made another note on her computer. "That should be fine. Just let them know you are currently taking this medication."

She handed him a script for the pills, he lied about still having the CD of relaxing music, and she told him to let her know if he got signed to the trial.

On the drive home, Blaine wondered about how Dr. Lewis had never asked him about travelling. It was quite common among oneironauts, yet shed never mentioned it except during his first meeting with her when she checked to see if he was aware of it. He wondered if this was common practice among doctors who specialised in oneironautics, or if she just trusted him enough to tell her if he ever travelled. He wouldve felt guilty about keeping it a secret had he not known the consequences of revealing it. Hed already suffered enough of those.

Kurt woke up in a rage. There was no blissful period of forgetfulness where reality hadnt penetrated his sleepy mind yet. He woke up and he knew straight away.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to pound his fists against the mattress. He wanted to throw something at the wall. He had never been so angry, so hurt, so betrayed before. What made it worse was that he hadnt seen it coming, hed had no inclination of Blaine not feeling the same way as him. Everything had been perfect between them - until it wasnt.

Tears burned in his eyes and throat, he clenched his jaw and fought to hold them back. He wouldnt cry over Blaine, he wasnt worth that.

The room started to blur. He climbed out of bed to pace the floor, hoping movement would help him stay in control. He strode up and down a stretch of carpet between his closet and the window, glaring ahead of him as he did so.

And to think hed spent all that time planning a trip that was never going to happen. He scoffed derisively as he spun around in front of the window and strode back towards his closet. It probably had nothing to do with Blaines parents at all; he just hadnt wanted to meet up with him. He was only supposed to be someone in Blaines dreams, nothing more.

He had been such a gullible idiot to have been so taken with Blaine. Hed spent hours talking to him and thinking about him, all for it to be thrown back in his face. He had fantasized about being in New York with him next year, daydreamed about happily ever after. He had clearly been completely alone in feeling this way. He couldnt believe he had misread Blaine so entirely. Rachel had been right; he shouldnt have gotten so involved with him.

Reaching his closet again, Kurt swerved over to his desk. The surface of it was littered with scrawled plans and printouts of flight schedules from all the evenings hed sat on his laptop and researched the trip. Breathing heavily through his nose, he snatched the papers up, crumpled it all into a misshapen ball, and threw it in the trash as hard as he could. If only he could crumple up his feelings and memories of Blaine and throw them in the trash, too.

"Kurt? Breakfast is out!"

Resisting the urge to kick at his trash can, Kurt turned away to call out a reply to his dad.

"Ill be down in a minute!"

The last thing he felt like doing was eating breakfast with his family, but he couldnt avoid it without inciting an onslaught of questions on what was wrong. He couldnt have that.

He tried to school his features into that of composed normalcy and by the time he had dressed and joined his dad and stepmom in the kitchen, he felt like he would be able to eat something without breaking down.

He was able to pick at his food in silence as his dad and stepmom discussed their plans for the day. As he ate, he thought some more about telling them what had happened with Blaine.

Telling them outright, right there and then, would give him the chance to rage and vent about the situation, and getting it all off his chest might help him feel better. But he knew how they would react. Aside from anger and sympathy, they would be worried about him and how he would cope with continuing to see Blaine in his dreams. He didnt want that. He didnt want them to worry, especially not his dad when he was not long out of the hospital from heart problems.

Scooping up a spoonful of soggy cereal, he cursed himself for being so naïve and optimistic in telling them about Blaine and the trip to visit him. They had been as hesitant about it as Rachel had, and it had all come crashing down on him like theyd feared. Theyd all warned him and he hadnt listened. Hed been so confident in his relationship with Blaine that hed brushed off concerns from his family and best friend. And now look what had happened.

Wrinkling his nose, he swallowed a mouthful of cereal and washed it down with some coffee. He laid his spoon in his bowl and pushed it aside - he couldnt eat anymore.

He knew he would have to tell them what had happened eventually, but he couldnt handle the inevitable lecture on how they were right and the smug, ‘I told you so looks. He couldnt take their concern just yet, not when he hadnt even got the whole mess straightened out in his own head yet. When they asked him about Blaine and the trip he would say something had come up and theyd had to cancel it. Unlike Blaine, he could lie for the sake of others.

With the pain of betrayal still fresh and raw, Kurt threw himself into staying busy in order to be distracted from it all. He spent as much time as possible either out with his friends or working with his dad in the garage. He went shopping at the mall with Rachel to help her pick out some new clothes that didnt make her look like a six-year-old raised by a cat-loving grandma, he played video games with Sam and increased his previously non-existent skill of shooting virtual characters, and he spent time with other members of the Glee club, seeing movies or meeting for coffee. Through all of this Blaine was a constant, nagging thought in the back of his mind, like a little splinter he couldnt dislodge, sending out bursts of pain every now and then. While distracting himself only worked somewhat, it was better than the alternative.

One afternoon he found himself suddenly alone in the house for a few hours after Mercedes, one of his Glee club friends, cancelled their coffee date at the last minute. With his distraction gone and nothing to keep him busy, he soon found himself curled up with his back against his bed, hugging his knees and crying openly as he wondered how hed gone from feeling like he had everything to feeling like he wasnt worthy of anything in the space of one night.

Exactly one week after the fallout with Blaine, Kurts anger had faded enough for him to be able to think back on how it had all fallen apart. Looking back, he couldnt recall any time when Blaine had obviously been lying or had appeared unhappy with communicating outside of dreams. Blaine had always seemed to love being able to talk as much as possible, it had been his idea to start their nightly phone calls, and he had seemed pretty apologetic, but, Kurt thought bitterly, perhaps he was just a good actor and was going along with it to keep the peace in their dreams.

Anything was possible. He didnt really know Blaine, after all. He could have been lying to him since theyd met.

Kurts scowl melted as he backed his car out of the driveway and started heading to Rachels house. She was hosting a karaoke party that evening that shed been planning and talking up for weeks. While it may not live up to Rachels descriptions, he was looking forward to a carefree night with his friends nonetheless. If singing pop songs with his friends, eating junk food, and laughing at how serious Rachel took karaoke didnt lift his mood then he didnt know what could. It was a night to forget about Blaine and look at what he had instead of lamenting what hed lost.

He braked to a stop at a red light and waited for it to change, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel. Thumping music and roaring laughter cut through the peaceful hum of his engine as another car pulled up alongside him. He glanced over at it and immediately turned his face away again as he tensed up in his seat. Mark was behind the wheel of the car full of his friends, most of whom had been there when Mark had thrown coffee over him a few weeks ago.

Swallowing, Kurt tightened his grip on the steering wheel and stared hard at the stop light, willing it to turn green. He knew without a doubt in his mind that if Mark or any of his friends recognised him they would go out of their way to taunt him in some way. They would stalk him to Rachels house, pull off dangerous road manoeuvres around him, and maybe even damage his car in some way. Either way, he knew theyd do their best to frighten him.

With his heart pounding and a sickening knot tightening in his stomach, he turned his face away more, keeping watch on the lights in his peripheral vision. His foot trembled where it hovered over the gas pedal, ready to stomp on it as soon as the lights changed. He cringed as loud hooting and shouting followed by a round of laughter sounded above the music. He squeezed the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning bone white, looking as though they were about to burst through his skin.

The light flicked to green and he pressed on the gas, shooting away from the lights far quicker than he would ordinarily. Not trusting his ability to remain innocuous, he turned off the main road far earlier than he ideally wanted to and took the longer, but bully-free route to Rachels.

His heart rate gradually slowed the more distance he put between himself and Marks car, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. When he finally turned onto Rachels street and slowed to a crawl to try and find a parking spot, realisation hit him so suddenly he came to a complete stop in the middle of the road.

Bullies had made him dread being awake and going about his life some days and now he no longer looked forward to going to sleep in case Blaine was there. He was dreading going to sleep because of his dreams, just as he had hoped would never happen. Unless he and Blaine could sort things out and be civil about their broken relationship, his dreams would never again be the safe haven he relied upon.