It was late on Sunday night, and Blaine was curled up in a comfy chair in the back corner at Layla's.  He jumped when Kurt surprised him with a kiss on the top of his head.

“Kurt!  I didn't expect to see you tonight.”  His voice was higher than he meant it to be, but he couldn't help it, he was so happy to see Kurt.  And the fact that Kurt was dressed in a thin purple v-neck t-shirt and clingy black yoga pants didn't help matters much.

“My rehearsal got out a little early – not that 10 o'clock is early, mind you – but when I walked by this place I thought of you.”

“I do tend to hang around here a lot.  The gym where Sam works is nearby, he's meeting me when he's done working.”  To walk me home, Blaine thought.  Not that he couldn't walk home alone, but until recently he really hadn't felt comfortable walking around in the city by himself, and he and Sam had gotten into the habit of going everywhere together when they could.  But he's not my seeing eye dog, Blaine thought to himself, thinking of Kurt's comment.  He's my friend.

“Okay if I join you for a while?”  Kurt asked.

“Definitely.”

Kurt ordered a latte and settled into the couch next to Blaine.  Blaine tried to focus on the book he was reading but was soon distracted, watching Kurt as he paged through the latest issue of Vogue.  Soon all of their reading material was abandoned as Kurt decided to give Blaine a detailed introduction to each of the other NYADA students who would be performing at the fundraiser Tuesday night. 

“And then there's Cora.  You either love her or you hate her.  I'm not sure where I'm at right now, before rehearsal it was hate, for sure, but she can sing the hell out of Sondheim.”  Kurt's eyes sparkled as he explained how Cora had infuriated their music director by refusing to sing a duet, claiming that the evening wasn't worth her time if she didn't get a solo.  Apparently the problem was resolved by giving her a solo and a duet.  Blaine almost said how much she sounded like Rachel, but refrained, remembering how sore that particular subject was.  He was just thinking that it might be a good time to talk about her, when Kurt's phone rang.

Kurt's breezy energy dropped away as he listened to the caller.  He quickly stood up and turned away from Blaine, nodding, his shoulders tight.  He dropped the phone from his ear, but didn't move.

“Kurt?  What's the matter?”  Before Blaine could get up, Kurt turned and sat back down.

“It's nothing.”  Kurt's face was pale and blank. 

Blaine moved to sit next to Kurt on the couch, his knee just barely touching Kurt's.  “What's wrong?  Tell me.”

Kurt shook his head.  “It's really not a big deal.  My landlord called.  Apparently there was a fire in my building.  It didn't reach my apartment, but there may be some water damage.  Because, you know, when they come to put out a fire they soak everything.”  Kurt put his head in his hands.  “Shit.”

Blaine put an arm around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him close.  “That's awful, Kurt.  Do you want me to come over there with you, help clean up?  Sam can come too, he's good at lifting things.”  Blaine hoped that would get Kurt to smile, but it didn't.

“He said they weren't letting anyone in the building tonight, it has to get cleared by the fire department first.  I can't even go see what happened…”  Kurt kept his head down in his arms.  “All my stuff is there,” he mumbled sadly.

Blaine turned Kurt in his arms and hugged him tighter.  “Then stay with me tonight.  We'll figure it out in the morning.”

“Are you sure?  I can go to my uncle's in New Jersey…” Kurt raised his head, but Blaine couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Blaine gave Kurt a look.  “Really?  You'd rather take the train to New Jersey at eleven o'clock at night than come have a sleepover at my place?”

“No, I guess you're right,” Kurt smiled wryly.  “Your place does smell a lot nicer than the train station.”

“Such a charmer,” Blaine replied, pushing himself up off the couch.  “Come on, I'll text Sam to just meet us at home.  Let's go eat ice cream and watch some mindless television.”

----

Sam was already back at the apartment by the time they got there, and he popped out of his room to commiserate with Kurt over the fire at his building.  “It's not fair that you can't go over there now,” he agreed.  “How are you supposed to know how bad it is?  I mean, everything could be destroyed!”

“On the other hand,” Blaine said firmly, “there could be no damage at all.  So there's no point in freaking out about it now, we'll go over tomorrow and check it out.”  He gave Sam a pointed look.

“Fine, Pollyanna, maybe the apartment fairy will have come and given Kurt a new big screen tv, too,” Sam joked.  “Hey, will you text me tomorrow and let me know how it goes?  I've got to be at the gym in the morning, but I can meet you over there later if it would help.”

“Sure, Sam.”  Blaine gave Sam a quick hug goodnight, and then joined Kurt in the kitchen as Sam went back into his room.

They decided against ice cream.  Blaine made them tea with lemon and honey and they sat at the table drinking it and eating apple slices.  Blaine could tell that Kurt was stressed, but was trying not to overreact.  “It's okay if you're worried, you know,” he said.

Kurt ran his thumb over the rim of his mug, sighing.  “I know material stuff isn't important compared to, well, people.  And even if everything in my apartment was gone, it wouldn't be the end of the world.  But I do have things in that apartment that I would really, really, really rather not lose.”

Blaine waited, torn between wanting to touch Kurt and not wanting to interrupt him.

“All my photo albums.  Pictures of me with my mom when I was little.  My graduation pictures with Finn.  His football jacket – Santana made me keep it, she said she'd just lose it.  Pictures of me and you, like that one from the prom with my crown.  My engagement ring…”

Blaine reached out and covered Kurt's hand where it rested on the mug.  “Water won't damage the ring, baby.”  Blaine had often wondered what happened to the ring.  He was glad that Kurt kept it, that it was still special to him.

“What about the other one?  The gum wrapper ring,” Kurt said sadly.

“If it's gone I'll make you another one.  Even better this time.”  Blaine said softly.

“There couldn't be a better one.”  Kurt looked up at Blaine, blinking.  “You really are amazing, you know that?  What high school kid makes his boyfriend an origami ring?” 

Blaine blushed.  “I have many talents, I suppose.”

“You do.”  Kurt smiled at Blaine, his eyes wide.  “But you're right, I can live without that ring.  Now, I've got you.”

Before Blaine could think of how to respond to that (“you do, forever and ever,” was what he wanted to say, but he managed not to let those words fall out quite yet), Kurt yawned, surprising them both.

“Sorry,” Kurt stuttered out, covering his mouth.  “Didn't mean to ruin the moment.  But I guess it's getting late.” 

“Time to go to sleep, then,” Blaine said, feeling a little nervous.  “You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch, it's really comfy –“

“Don't be silly, Blaine, I'm not kicking you out of your bed.”  Kurt stood up and held his hand out to Blaine.  “Besides, you said this was a sleepover.  And since when do people having a sleepover sleep in different rooms?”

Blaine grinned, trying not to show how excited he was that Kurt was going to be sleeping in his bed, even if they were completely platonic.  “I suppose sleeping in different rooms would it make it too hard to paint our nails and gossip about boys, right?”

“Exactly.”

A few minutes later, their mugs cleaned up and put away, they stood awkwardly in Blaine's room.  “Okay, well, why don't I wash up first, and you can change.  All my sleep stuff is in that middle drawer, just wear whatever you want.”  Blaine waved his hand towards his dresser.  He silently thanked his mother for getting him in the habit of keeping his things neat – if he had known Kurt was going to be in his room tonight, he would have straightened up a little bit more, but it wasn't too bad.

When Blaine finished in the bathroom, he found Kurt sitting on the edge of his bed, typing on his phone.  He had on a worn navy Dalton t-shirt which was a little too small for him, and Blaine's striped sleep pants.  “Kurt?  Do you want me to get you a shirt from Sam?  He won't mind.”

Kurt looked up.  “Nope,” he said, crossing his arms and rubbing the sleeves of the old shirt, a fond expression on his face.  “This one's so soft.  I can't believe you still have it.”

“It's a little ragged, but it still works,” Blaine said softly, sitting down next to Kurt.  “Um, I left a fresh toothbrush on the sink for you.  Use whatever products you want, between me and Sam we've got quite a few to choose from.”

“Does Sam still use that cinnamon toothpaste?  I never did figure that out, it always made me think of brushing my teeth with apple cider, or cinnamon buns, or something.”

Blaine forgot sometimes that Sam had lived with Kurt for the better part of a year back in high school.  “Yeah, he still does.  But my minty stuff is there too, don't worry.”

Kurt leaned against Blaine for a moment, his arm warm against Blaine's side.  He looked as if he wanted to say something, but apparently changed his mind as he just smiled and got up and went into the bathroom. 

Blaine exhaled, tense, and quickly shed his clothes.  Not that Kurt hadn't seen him naked before, but he just wanted to get his pajamas on before he came back in the room.  He shouldn't have worried, it turned out, as Kurt seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom.  Blaine had pulled on gray sleep pants and a light blue t-shirt, folded his clothes, put everything away, and then sat for a few minutes staring at his wheelchair in the corner of the room.  It was too late to try to put it away in a closet or something, or throw it out the window.  He was just going to have to ignore it.  Maybe with the lights off….

Just as he was turning off the lights and switching on the nightlight in the outlet by the door, Kurt returned, setting his neatly folded dance clothes down on Blaine's dresser.  He glanced quickly at Blaine and then scampered onto the bed, sliding all the way under the covers and pulling them up over his head.

“Kurt?”  Blaine climbed on the bed, perched on his knees, and lifted the edge of the blanket.  “Where'd you go?”

Blaine heard Kurt giggle from under the covers, and just like that, he relaxed.  Maybe it didn't have to be awkward after all.  He slipped under the covers too, pulling them up over his head, so he and Kurt were in the dark, their giggles loud in their ears.  He felt Kurt's hand come to rest on his waist, and Kurt slid closer until his head was resting on Blaine's chest, Blaine shifting on to his back as they curled together into each other, this position as familiar as a favorite day dream.

“This is good, right?”  Kurt said quietly, his fingers gently moving along Blaine's side.

“Yeah.  Really good.”  Blaine rested his hand on Kurt's shoulder, letting his fingers move over the frayed collar of his shirt to Kurt's smooth skin underneath.  Blaine recognized this Kurt so well, this peaceful mood, when what he wanted most was just to take comfort from being together, no matter what was going on around them.  It was heavenly.

“Thank you for letting me stay here tonight,” Kurt said.  “This is perfect.”

I love you, Blaine wanted to say, but he didn't.  The moment was perfect, and he didn't want to ruin it by going too fast.  He hoped that was where they were both headed, but he wasn't in any rush.  Instead he continued moving his hand over Kurt's shoulder, tracing his collarbone with his thumb, enjoying the weight of Kurt's head on his chest.

There were footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by more footsteps.

“Is Sam going somewhere?”  Kurt asked, pushing the blanket down so that he could see.

“No.  He's up a lot at night.  He's probably just checking the door to make sure it's locked.”  Blaine pulled back a little to face Kurt.  “I should warn you, sometimes Sam has really bad nightmares.  They come and go, I'm just kind of used to it.”

Kurt looked concerned, and he took Blaine's hand in his, winding their fingers together.  “From the accident?”

“Yeah.  Sam wasn't hurt that badly when the bus crashed, but he was pinned under something.  He had to wait there for the paramedics to get him out, and I guess there were a lot of us around him who were in pretty bad shape.  They had to work on the people who were hurt worse first….”  Blaine trailed off.  It had taken Sam a long time to tell him about what he saw that night, and it was terrible.  He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Sam, but the frequency of his nightmares gave him some idea.

“He had to see all of you there, in pain, and he couldn't do anything about it,” Kurt said, biting his lip.  “Where were you?”  he asked softly.

“Well, I don't remember anything about the accident.  But I had been sitting next to Sam on the bus.  He told me I was bleeding and he could see that my leg was all messed up.  And apparently I was moaning or something, but then I stopped.  Ryder told me later that Sam was really freaking out, trying to get me to wake up, but he couldn't pull his foot out from whatever was trapping him, so he couldn't get close enough to me to see if I was breathing or not.”  Blaine took a deep breath.  “God, this is awful, Kurt, you don't need to hear this.”

“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me,” he said quietly, looking intently into Blaine's eyes and giving his hand a squeeze. 

Blaine nodded, thinking.  “I feel bad, sometimes, that I can't help Sam more.  I feel like his nightmares should have stopped by now.  I don't know what to do.”

“Is he still seeing a therapist?”

“Not really.  He really liked the one from Kentucky best, and he calls her once in a while.  I've thought about bringing it up – he could find someone through health services at NYU, it wouldn't cost him anything.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

Blaine sighed.  “No, and I know I should.  But I don't want him to think that I mind, that I'm tired of him waking me up or something.  I know that sounds stupid….”

“It doesn't sound stupid.”

“I don't want to make him feel worse, like he has to change.”  Blaine took Kurt's hand and it held up against his chest, playing with his fingers.  “You probably don't remember, but back during my senior year, Sam once said to me that we were like brothers.  At the time, it didn't seem to match up with how I felt, because I was in the middle of crushing on him, and my feelings weren't particularly brotherly.  But now...” Blaine chose his words carefully, hoping that this was going to come out right, “I told Sam the other day that he and I were a package deal.  That no matter what happens with you and me, that I wasn't leaving him.  And I meant it.  He's helped me so much, Kurt.  I need you to know how much he means to me.”

Kurt's eyes were tearing up, which Blaine didn't really understand.  He thought he was going to be the one to cry this time.  “Of course, Blaine.  Of course.  I wouldn't want anything different.  You guys have always looked out for each other.” Kurt sniffed a little, then slid closer to Blaine, his face pressed against his neck.  “If Sam helped you even half as much as you say he did, then he's my hero.  He took care of you when I couldn't.  And if he's still recovering from this whole mess, well, I think we're all in the same boat.”

“So maybe we can all help each other?” Blaine asked, smiling softly and wrapping his arms around Kurt.

“Obviously.  But if you start singing ‘get by with a little help from my friends,' I'm out of here.”

“Oh, Kurt, why must you stifle my creative urges?”

“You better stifle your urges, buddy. I'm exhausted, and it's almost 2 a.m.  Now snuggle me until I fall asleep.”

-------

Sometime later that night, Blaine heard Sam's tentative voice.  "Blaine?"  Blaine didnt need to open his eyes to know what was going on.  He reached out for Sam, but was weighed down by something.  Not something, someone - Kurt - who was curled up against his side, a heavy arm slung across his waist.   Well, this was going to be complicated. 

"Sam? Hang on," Blaine tried to figure out how to say "Im being held down by my adorably passed out ex-fiancé, so I cant come watch The Hobbit in the middle of the night with you," but his brain was still too fuzzy to get there.

Sam opened Blaines door further, the light from the hallway spilling over the bed.  "Oh, sorry, dude.  I forgot Kurt was here."  Sam had his arms wrapped around himself, his hair sticking out every which way.  He looked young and nervous, like he always did after a nightmare.  It made Blaines heart clench, every time, to see his friend like this.  "Don't get up, I'm fine.”

Not once had Blaine turned Sam away after a nightmare.  He wasnt going to make Sam sit and shiver by himself, not when he had a choice.  "No, wait," Blaine began, struggling to disentangle himself from the blankets and Kurt.  He tried to slide out from under Kurt and get up off the bed, but before he knew it his foot was caught and he landed in a heap on the floor. 

"Blaine!"  Sam was next to him instantly, straightening out his leg, sitting him up.  "Shit, Im so sorry, I didnt mean to make you fall," Sam was breathing harder, upset with himself now on top of everything else.

"Sam, its okay.  Im not hurt, I just fell out of bed, onto a very soft rug."  Blaine tried to catch Sams eye but failed, and opted to just pull him into a hug.  "Sammy, youre okay.  Were both okay."  Sam was shaking now, clinging to Blaine, his breathing speeding up.  Blaine ignored the pain in his leg and focused on stroking Sam's back, holding him close.

"Are you guys okay?"  Blaine heard Kurt asking, his voice low and concerned.  Blaine looked up as Kurt scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Sam had a nightmare, I was getting up, and I fell out of bed," Blaine said.  Best to stick to the facts, he figured.  "Were all right."  He was rubbing circles on Sams back, and this seemed to be helping.  "Sam?  Can you breathe with me?  A little slower?" 

Blaine felt Sam nodding.  He kept his head next to Sam's, aware of Kurt watching them, but not sure what to say.

“Why don't you guys come on up here, you don't look very comfortable,” Kurt said, scooting back and holding the edge of the blanket up.

Blaine saw Sam look up in surprise, first at Kurt, then at him.  Well done, Hummel, he thought.  “Sam, help me up?”

Sam obediently got to his feet, pulling Blaine with him.  Blaine slid under the covers next to Kurt, motioning to Sam until he sat down on the bed. 

Kurt's shoulder and arm pressed softly against Blaine's side as Blaine scooted over to make room for Sam.  Kurt didn't seem to mind, in fact, he was remarkably calm.  Sam was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hesitant.  “Come here, Sam,” Blaine said, tugging him down against him.  “It's a sleepover, right, Kurt?”

“Right.  I missed those new New Directions sleepovers, but I've heard all about them.  I know how popular Blaine's cuddles are.”

Sam shrugged, burrowing down into the pillow, facing Blaine with one hand tucked up under his head, the other resting against Blaine's arm, fingers just touching the bare skin under the edge of his sleeve.  “I'm a good cuddler too,” he mumbled.

“You are, Sam,” Blaine agreed, and Kurt nodded against his shoulder. 

“Maybe you guys learned from each other,” Kurt said, reaching over Blaine to rub Sam's arm, pressing ever closer against Blaine in order to reach Sam.  Sam seemed to have calmed down considerably, his breath evening out.  After a few minutes during which Blaine pondered the very bizarreness of his life, with Kurt curled around him, consoling his best friend, Kurt pulled his arm back and shifted to face the ceiling. 

“This is giving me déjà vu,” Kurt said softly, his fingers finding Blaine's hand under the covers.

“Oh?”  Blaine wondered for a brief and entirely inappropriate moment if Kurt had ever thought about a threesome with him and Sam, but then realized that wasn't what déjà vu meant, at least not in this context.

“The night of accident, my dad called me from the hospital in Lima.  He told me about Finn, and that you were in surgery,” Kurt gave Blaine's hand a squeeze, “and how so many of you were hurt.  He had tried to get in touch with Rachel's dads, but it was really late, and they weren't answering their phone.  I had to tell Rachel about Finn.  I barely knew what I was doing, I couldn't believe it myself, but he told me I had to tell her.”  Kurt's voice was tight, but he kept going.  “First I told Santana, and then we went into Rachel's room.  She was in the middle of painting her nails some ridiculous bright red color… we told her what happened, and I went to hug her, and she just started screaming about ruining her nail polish, hysterical.  Santana finally grabbed her and wiped it all off, and we both climbed into her bed and stayed there together for the rest of the night.”  Kurt took a deep, shaking breath.  “Hence the déjà vu.”

“Kurt.  You never told me about that,” Blaine said softly, turning to face him. 

Sam leaned up on his elbow, looking over at Kurt.  “It's good that you guys had each other,” he said seriously, but then broke into a smirk.  “But I bet Rachel isn't as good a cuddler as Blaine.”  Sam squeezed Blaine and rubbed his face into his hair, as if to emphasize his point.

Blaine groaned.  “It's just because you all like to play with my crazy hair, isn't it.”  Blaine smiled as Sam ruffled his hair with his fingers, pretending to pat it back into place.  Blaine had eased up on the gel considerably since the accident – first because there was little point during all that time in the hospital, and then, among other things, because it turned out that he really liked it when Sam played with his hair.  It had been pretty awesome the night before when Kurt did it too.

“Mmm.  And because you're so warm,” Kurt replied, snuggling into Blaine's shoulder. 

“We should all get together when Rachel's out here,” Sam said.  “We could make dinner.  Although, if she's still doing that crazy vegetarian thing or whatever, I don't know what we'd make.  She probably wouldn't like my chili.  Although we could make it with just beans….”

When no one responded, Sam poked Blaine.  “What?  I'll cook if you want.  Rachel's great, and I haven't seen in her forever.”

“I didn't realize you kept in touch with Rachel,” Kurt said quietly.

“Well, mostly on Facebook.  But Mercedes told me she was going to be here soon for a show or something.  I didn't get all the details.  Didn't she tell you?”

“Actually, I haven't talked to her in a while.  A really long time.”

“Sorry, man, I didn't know.”  Sam paused, apparently thinking.  “Is it because you don't want to talk to her?  Or, you know, did things just get messed up?”

“The second,” Kurt said softly.

“Well, then this is the perfect opportunity for a do over.  And with all of the other awkward going on between you and Blaine, whatever's up with you and Rachel will just seem normal.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course, dude.  It's three in the morning.  I probably won't even remember we had this conversation.”  Sam rolled over, facing away from Blaine and scrunching the pillow up under his head.  “And I think Blaine's asleep.”

“Am not,” Blaine mumbled.  At least, he didn't think he was.  On the other hand, given the events of the past few hours, it made much more sense that it was all just a dream.