Kurt recognized what Blaine was doing right away.

In the first dream they shared after Blaines failed friendly introduction, Blaine kept his distance; he stayed within sight of Kurt, but always out of earshot and too far away for any sort of eye contact to be held. Kurt knew he was giving him space - or, at least thats what he hoped he was doing; he just as well could have been staying away because of his rudeness. He was pretty confident the latter wasnt true, though.

The dream was short. They were both in a large hall that reminded Kurt of the insides of the old European cathedrals hed seen on TV with huge, arched, leaded windows letting streams of sunlight flood the room like cutting golden bars through the dusty air. The floor was made of stone and was worn into uneven curves and hollows in places. The hall was empty save for the two of them, standing at opposite sides of the hall. Kurt expected his footsteps to echo in such a large, empty space, but he heard only silence.

Kurt walked slowly down the length of his side of the hall, pausing frequently. As he did so he ran through dozens of different scenarios in his head, ways in which he could apologise to Blaine and get them back onto the right track. Every now and then he would shoot a not-so-covert glance across at Blaine, watching the other boy take in the view of a huge stained glass window dominating the end wall of the hall. His profile was caught strikingly against the background of one of the many windows, his sculptured jawline, full lips, and the curling hair escaping from a prison of gel catching Kurts attention. Once or twice he just missed meeting Blaines gaze, and his heart skipped at the thought that Blaine was just as intrigued by him as he was.

He had just decided on what he was going to say and had managed to stuff all of the residual worry that Blaine was annoyed at him into a locked box in the back of his mind, when an odd movement in the corner of his eye distracted him.

The hall had abruptly, inexplicably doubled in size. The high wooden double doors that had stood not too far away from him were now a good distance away, the aged spots and whorls in the wood and intricate carvings no longer visible. Unlike the half of the hall that he and Blaine were in, this newly materialised part wasnt empty; instead, it was filled with benches, chairs, and couches of all styles, shapes, and sizes, arranged into rows facing the doors. In his peripheral vision, Kurt saw Blaine turning to look at this sudden addition as well.

Kurt frowned at the rows of seating. It was an odd sight to see in a place like this, and it was even stranger that it had all suddenly appeared in between one blink of an eye and the next. It was all very wei-

Kurts eyes opened to the dark ceiling of his bedroom. He groaned, feeling frustrated with himself. He knew exactly why he had woken up at that particular point - it was something hed managed to piece together over the years, but had also been proposed by scientists in various research publications: his subconscious mind had recognised something unusual, something that practically had a big sign pointing at it saying ‘this is not real!. He had subconsciously become aware that he was dreaming and his body had jerked him awake. Sometimes, it took hours for him to realise he was dreaming - there had been cases where it had taken people years to wake up - but of course he was pulled awake after barely any time at all when he wanted to put things right with Blaine.

Huffing in annoyance, Kurt rolled over onto his other side and got comfortable, trying to fall asleep again. He knew the chances of dreaming lucidly again that night was very slim, and the chances of seeing Blaine slimmer again, but it was still a school night and it was late; he needed his sleep.

He was glad he managed to fall asleep relatively quickly as the next day at school was hell. From the moment he got out of his car in the parking lot it started.

"Hey, Hummel, who are you trying to impress in those fancy, girly clothes you always wear? Any man stupid enough to be interested will only see you on your knees!"

Inhaling deeply, Kurt ignored the insult, and began speed-walking towards the front doors. Cackling laughter trailed after him as he crossed the parking lot in record time and flew up the steps and into school. He rolled his shoulders on his way to his locker, determinedly brushing the insult off. That same group of meatheads, led by the shaved head of Luke Whitman, had been targeting him for years, throwing insults, water balloons, and homophobic remarks his way whenever they werent shoving him into lockers, tripping him up on the stairs, or tossing him in the dumpster. When complaining to the principal had done nothing hed learned to let it all run off him like water off a ducks back - mostly.

Today was one of those days Kurt could tell would be hard; today he wouldnt be able to ignore every insult or dust himself off and carry on as normal after he was slammed into the lockers. He knew from the moment he stepped out of his car that today he would rather be in one of his dreams.

His suspicions were confirmed when he was tripped up on his way to sit down in his first class, had balled-up pieces of paper with homophobic slurs and crude drawings scrawled on them pelted at him during the following class, and his books were deliberately knocked out of his hands as he walked in the halls. He began to wonder if they had coordinated it, if theyd all been part of a campaign to make his life hell on that particular day.

By lunchtime he wanted nothing more than to go home and shut himself up in his room. It didnt help that his friends werent being particularly supportive. They made some sympathetic noises and Rachel gave a short speech about rising above them and fighting through it, but they were all too preoccupied with their own problems to give him too much focus. Feeling a little lonely and snubbed, Kurt found himself thinking about Blaine again, wishing hed had a chance to speak to him, wondering if he would understand his situation or if he wouldnt know what to say either. He could only hope he wasnt like Luke, making both his waking and dreaming hours hell.

By the time Kurt was driving home he had new bruises forming on his left elbow and hip from where hed collided with the lockers, a few pages in one of his textbooks had been torn when his books had been smacked out of his grasp and someone else had deliberately stood on them, and hed been insulted and mocked in more ways than he could count. Tears prickled his eyes and his throat closed up, but he bit his lip and forced deep breaths in and out of his lungs. He would not cry.

The house was empty when he got home, both his dad and Carole out at work. He welcomed being alone for a couple more hours, needing the time to compose himself and hitch a content smile on his face for his family. They knew he was having problems with bullies, but they didnt know how bad it was, and he had no intention of giving them the full picture. Simply put, he just didnt want them to worry. He was managing, he was surviving, he was getting through each day - there wasnt really much for them to be concerned about. Besides that, he and his dad had already tried speaking to the principal; there was nothing more anyone could do to help him. All they could do was worry, and they had enough on their plates without that added stress.

Lying on his bed sprawled out on his back, Kurt listened to music on his iPod. Music had always been important to him; it never failed to soothe him or shift his mood to the tone of whatever he was listening to and it united him with people he may not otherwise know - he owed most of his friends to the connection music provided. Singing was another passion of his; it was his way of expressing himself when he couldnt find words. This was why hed eagerly joined his schools Glee club when it had been revitalised last year. It was in those meetings in the dusty choir room, that he had befriended Rachel, Sam, and his other friends. Everyone tended to stick together in Glee - they werent exactly popular with the rest of the student body. Unfortunately, there was little they could do to help him; he couldnt be frogmarched to each classroom or shielded from the bullies every second he was on school grounds. His friends did the best they could and they did help - but sometimes it just wasnt enough.

Switching to an upbeat song, Kurt relaxed into the mattress and closed his eyes. He soon found a small smile on his face as the negativity rapidly drained from his body. Just one year and he would be done with high school and out of Lima, Ohio. Just one year and he would be away from all of the shit and living a much happier life.

When his dad and Carole arrived home and they asked him about his day over dinner he was able to smile and say it was fine.

Over the next two weeks Kurt waited on tenterhooks to travel again. He had many lucid dreams, but Blaine wasnt present in any of them. He recognised almost immediately when he was alone in his dreams, unable to sense Blaines presence. It was only after a week or so of this that he realized he was able to sense such a thing as Blaine being present. He couldnt quite explain it, really, just that something was missing, something that had been there in the dreams hed shared with Blaine.

As time went by and no Blaine appeared in his dreams, he became frustrated and even searched online for ways to induce dream travel, but found nothing.

Annoyed, he was forced to wait for it to just happen.

One night, over two weeks after the day of the Campaign To Make Kurts Day Hell, Kurt went to bed after agonizing over an English essay for three and a half hours and found himself standing in scrubby parkland. He had barely taken in his surroundings when he knew: Blaine was in the dream with him.

With his heart beating wildly and an effervescent mixture of hope and nervous excitement building in his stomach, Kurt scanned the area frantically for any sign of Blaine, spotting him almost straight away.  

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Kurt walked over to Blaine, praying he wouldnt move from where he was standing. His feet made no noise as he strode through the long, scruffy grass with its tangle of weeds. As Blaine was facing away from him, Kurt didnt think he heard him approaching, but when they were a few feet apart, Blaine turned to face him. Kurts greeting caught in his throat.

Blaine was stunning; more beautiful than he remembered. His skin had natural tan tones to it, his shoulders were broad, and his waist was tiny. But it was his eyes that stood out to Kurt. More breath-taking than what he remembered from the tornado dream, they were a gorgeous honeyed hazel color, flecked with greens and browns, and fringed by long, thick, dark eyelashes.

Kurt swallowed thickly, trying not to let his attraction show. "H- Hi," he stammered. Embarrassment sunk through him like it was a heavy weight hed just swallowed. "Im Kurt - Kurt Hummel. Im really sorry about the way I behaved before - just running off and leaving you hanging. You just surprised me and - I dont know - I was a bit overwhelmed."

Blaine smiled - and oh God, his smile was as beautiful as the rest of him - and offered his hand to Kurt. "Its nice to meet you, Kurt," he said when Kurt shook his hand. "Im Blaine."

"I know," Kurt said thoughtlessly. Mentally slapping himself, he smiled apologetically at Blaine again. "I really am sorry that I made us start off on the wrong foot. I never meant for sharing dreams with someone to go like this."

Blaine eyed him appraisingly. "How did you mean for this to go?"

Frustratingly, Kurt felt himself blushing. "Well, Id hoped it would all be sunshine and rainbows, to be honest. Like a perfect new friendship. Ive always wanted to become good friends with whoever I shared my dreams with."

"Who says we cant be good friends?" Blaine asked, spreading his hands as though posing his question to the entirety of the scrubby parkland. "Just because we had a little hiccup at the start, doesnt mean we cant be friends."

Kurt shook his head briskly, his blush burning hotly on his cheeks. "I was being silly. Ive been thinking of everything that could go wrong and every reason you had to dislike me."

Smiling understandingly, Blaine laid a hand on Kurts arm. Kurt jumped slightly, his blush impossibly darkening further at the feel of Blaines warm, soft hand on his arm. "Kurt, so far, Ive got no reason to dislike you, and theres no sense in worrying about every possible thing that could go wrong." He patted Kurts arm and removed his hand. "I think we can say that this probably wont be all sunshine and rainbows, though. We may not be in the real world, but this is still very much a version of reality."

Kurt nodded his agreement and they fell silent for a moment, Blaine staring across the park, while Kurt tried not to ogle him. Blaine was a few inches shorter than him, he noticed. For some reason, the observation made warmth spill into his stomach.

Blaine looked back at him with a dazzling smile. "How about we tell each other a little about ourselves? After all, were probably going to be spending time together quite regularly for a long time."

"Sure." Kurt looked around at the weedy grass surrounding them and gestured to it. "Um, do you want to sit?"

Blaine flopped down gracefully on the ground where he was standing and Kurt copied him, shifting until he was sitting directly opposite him. The ground was surprisingly comfortable.

"So..." Kurt said, unsure where to begin.

Thankfully, Blaine didnt have such problems.

"Whats your favorite music?" he asked eagerly.

"Oh, um..." Kurt was a little thrown by the question; hed been expecting something more basic and straightforward, such as how old he was.

Sensing Kurts surprise, Blaine shrugged and explained, "You can tell a lot about someone from how they answer that question."

Kurt thought for a bit. "Im not sure I have a favorite artist or anything, but I really like a lot of pop stuff, like Lady Gaga. I also love Broadway musical soundtracks, because they tell a story and theres always a song to reflect my current mood." He hesitated for a second, debating how much to reveal, before deciding he might as well just lay his cards on the table and see what kind of person Blaine really was. "Im in my schools Glee club, so I get exposed to a lot of different music through that."

Blaines face lit up. "Youre in show choir? Me, too!"

Kurt laughed a little from relief and delight. "Wow, really? Do you guys compete?"

Blaine nodded. "We went to Nationals this year, but didnt place."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Thats still incredible! We only got as far as Regionals this year, but were determined to make it all the way next year. Whats your group called?"

Blaines smiled widened. "The Warblers," he replied enthusiastically. "Were an a Capella group."

"A Capella, huh?" With Blaines gelled hair and debonair looks he could see it, actually. "Our group is called the New Directions. We make a band come with us to competitions to play for us."

They continued to talk about show choir for a while, discussing their individual groups, their experiences competing, and their dream setlists. From there the topic of conversation flowed naturally on to Broadway musicals, then to movies, and then to their hobbies. Kurt described his love of fashion and how he liked to purchase cheap, second-hand clothes from thrift stores and redesign them to give them a fashionable new lease of life. Blaine talked about playing the piano and guitar and how he helped a local childrens theatre group every year with their big summer production by helping create sets and playing the piano for them. Kurt soon found himself wondering why hed been so worried about getting to know Blaine.

It was difficult to tell how long they sat there and talked. Neither of them had access to a clock and the sun never changed position in the sky. It was almost as if time had frozen in the little pocket of the universe where they were sitting. It was wonderful; usually the time spent getting to know someone was cut short by the rest of life, but here it wasnt. And when they person he was getting to know was as fascinating as Blaine, Kurt was glad there were no interruptions.

Kurt found himself liking Blaine more and more as he learned more about him. Blaine was funny, sweet, and seemed genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say. They also had a lot in common, including a shared love of music, Vogue magazine, vintage bowties, and old movies. It was nice to be able to talk enthusiastically with someone about so much.

In a brief pause at the tail-end of an in-depth discussion on the latest musical-to-movie adaptation, Blaine vanished without warning. Kurt only had a second to blink in surprise at the empty space in front of him before understanding trickled to the forefront of his brain and he woke up.

At first, disappointment fizzled through him at not getting to spend a little more time with Blaine, but then he thought about how long theyd spoken and how much they knew about each other now... With this thought and the knowledge that hed share many more dreams with Blaine in mind, he reached to grab his phone from the nightstand and switched off his alarm. The day was looking to be a good one.

It started the moment Blaine arrived home after Warbler practice. Both of his parents were already home and they were sitting in the living room, just off the entrance hall, waiting for him. He knew as soon as he stepped foot inside and saw them sitting there - his mom on the couch, his dad in his favorite armchair - that they were about to lecture him on something. Hed only come home to them sitting waiting for him like this a few times, but each time had been because they were disappointed about something: his grade in a test one time, his decision to stop a particular therapy, when hed agreed to some extra volunteering hours with the childrens theatre group during the school semester. Unlike all of those other times, he didnt know what this lecture could possibly be about. He hesitated in the doorway for a tense moment, his fingers twitching nervously against the strap of his satchel, until he decided to bite the bullet and get whatever this was over with.

Taking a strengthening breath, Blaine entered the living room. His parents looked at him coolly.

"Sit down, Blaine," his dad said, his voice controlled and toneless in a manner that Blaine associated with him being deeply frustrated and disappointed in something Blaine had said or done.

Heart thumping loudly, Blaine perched on the very edge of the couch, his back ramrod straight and his posture stiff. He wanted to speak up and ask what was going on, but his throat was stuck with worry; if he didnt already know what this was about then it must have been something especially bad. He only hoped they wouldnt forbid him from going to the theatre again.

His dad didnt keep him in suspense for long.

"Your mother and I would like to know why you arent seeing your doctor, or on a treatment regime?" his dad asked levelly, still dangerously and deceivingly calm, like the turquoise waters with the poisonous jellyfish below the surface. Unless Blaine backed down quickly and apologised profusely, his calm demeanor would shatter.

Blaines mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. Of all the possible disappointing actions hed thought may have triggered this discussion, his decision to temporarily stop seeking treatment for his condition hadnt been one of them.

"I-" He floundered for a moment before being able to reply. "I just wanted a break from constantly testing different treatments that dont work," he explained, his words coming out defensive. "I told Mom this after my last appointment with Dr. Lewis."

His mom nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, but that was weeks ago. And you told me Dr. Lewis would contact you if there was any news from some of the current trials, but theres been no word from her."

"How do you know I havent heard from her?"

His mom shook his head at him. "Well, you havent been to see her, have you?" When Blaine said nothing to this, only stared helplessly back, she added, "I know for a fact there have been new developments, including more trial recruiting and an alternative medicine option, yet youve discussed none of this with her."

"Why are you suddenly avoiding trying to find something to help yourself?" his dad asked. "Youve been happily going along to appointments and taking part in the trials weve suggested for years - why are you being so stubborn now?"

"Yes," Blaine agreed, careful not to raise his voice or let too much of his agitation slip into his tone, "and look how much those treatments and appointments helped. I dont want to keep wasting my time with them."

His dad folded his arms tightly across his chest and his stony face pinched into an angry frown. "So youre giving up?" He shook his head. "I hope you dont have the same defeatist attitude with your school work."

Blaine let out a small huff of frustration. "Ive been trying to find something for almost four years! Thats hardly defeatist!"

From the expressions on his parents faces, neither of them agreed with him. Blaine tried to think of a way to make them understand, but he couldnt think of anything he hadnt said already. They didnt know what it was like to be testing a new, elaborate pre-bedtime ritual each month, or to be testing different drugs that did nothing to ease his lucid dreams but still caused sometimes nasty side effects, or to be poked and prodded by researchers and spend nights in the sleep lab hooked up to monitors. It was easy for them to say he should stick with it, but there was only so much he could take.

"Dont you want to stop those dreams?" his mom asked. "Dont you want to be able to sleep normally?"

"I- Of course I do!" Blaine stammered. "But Ive got more important things to worry about just now: Ill be in senior year soon and then therell be college applications and exams... I dont have the time to travel to see doctors or to be feeling spaced out from some medication. I dont see why I cant wait until they bring out a treatment that is proven to work."

His parents exchanged a look and Blaine knew things were about to get worse. His dad sat forward in his chair, unfolding his arms and resting his elbows on his knees. His frown deepened and his eyes narrowed.

"I dont know whos been putting these ridiculous ideas in your head, Blaine, but you need to have a good, long think about what youre doing. If you had diabetes or a heart condition youd be religiously taking your medications and keeping on top of the latest trials and treatments, so why arent you doing the same for your condition?"

"Youre being immature and irresponsible, Blaine," his mom agreed gravely, her face knitted in a stern frown.

"My condition isnt as serious as heart disease," Blaine retorted. "All it does is make me a bit tired at times. I can manage taking a break from being on a treatment regime."

"Some serious illnesses dont cause any major problems, either, until its too late," his mom pointed out.

"Im not ill," Blaine said through gritted teeth.

"Not now youre not," his dad acknowledged. "But what you have isnt healthy; its all going to catch up on you eventually." Shaking his head at Blaine, his dad stood up. "You cant carry on being childish about this, Blaine. Grow up and think of your health."

Jumping to his feet, Blaine scowled at his parents. He couldnt take much more of this. He was almost seventeen years old and he was being treated as if he were a child who was incapable of making sensible decisions about his life. He was the one who had the condition, he was the one who had to deal with the consequences of it, so why shouldnt he be the one who made the decisions about treatment? And he knew his parents would be quick to complain if his grades slipped, yet they werent listening to his comments about how all of the drugs and trials affected his school work. He was tired of it.

"I am thinking of my health when I say that being on all of these therapies and trials is driving me crazy. None of them made me sleep better - some of them made it worse!" He breathed out harshly, releasing some of his frustration along with his breath. "Im not saying I never want to treat this; I just want a break from trying to do so."

"Youre making a mistake," his dad said, his voice still sharp with anger.

Blaine shrugged. "Its my mistake to make."

With his point made, Blaine turned and left the room. On his way up the stairs to his room, he heard his parents start talking again, no doubt discussing him and his poor decisions. Hed always struggled with going against his parents wishes and disappointing them, but this was the one time he couldnt back down in an attempt to please them. He was sick of being a guinea pig for a conveyor belt of treatments that were guaranteed to fail and, though hed never admit it to anyone, he didnt want to risk one of these treatments finally working, not now, not when he was only just beginning to get to know Kurt Hummel.