Kurt glanced at his phone again and frowned.  No new messages.  His only contact with Blaine today had been a short text from him this afternoon saying that he was sorry, but he wouldn't be able to go to the NYADA concert with him tonight.  Which also meant that he wasn't coming over to Kurt's place afterwards for their sexy times do-over.  Kurt didn't understand what had happened, and more than that, he didn't understand why Blaine wouldn't answer his calls.  It wasn't like him – since they'd been back together, Blaine had always texted back, and picked up right away, even once when he was in the middle of a video game with Sam (although after Sam's reaction to that last one, he thought Blaine might reconsider next time).  Kurt was getting desperate.

From Kurt:  Sam?

From Sam:  Hi Kurt.

From Kurt:  Are you going out with Rachel tonight?

From Sam:  No.

Did Blaine stay home because Rachel changed her plans, and he didn't want to leave Sam home by himself?  Why couldn't these guys get it into their heads that this was not a problem.  Kurt shook his head.  There was a pretty easy solution to this.

From Kurt:  Do you want to come to the NYADA concert tonight?

From Sam:  No thanks.

Maybe Sam was feeling bad, and Blaine was staying home because of that?

From Kurt:  Are you okay?

From Sam:  Yeah, totally fine.

Kurt sighed.  He didn't think Sam would just tell him what was going on with Blaine, but you never knew with Sam.

From Kurt:  Is Blaine mad at me?

From Sam:  Why would you think that?

From Kurt:  Because he cancelled our date tonight, and he won't talk to me.

From Sam:  Keep your eyes on the prize.

From Kurt:  What is that supposed to mean?

From Sam:  What did I tell you the other night about Blaine?

Kurt thought about this, remembering his mini-freakout in the entryway when he thought – briefly – that Blaine arranged a surprise meeting with Rachel without telling him.

From Kurt:   He's happy?

From Sam:  Got it in one.

From Kurt:  So you're saying he's not mad at me?

From Sam:  I shouldn't be talking to you about this.  Or he'll be mad at ME.

From Kurt: Then why won't he go out with me tonight? Is he hurt?

From Sam:  No more than usual.

Ouch. 

From Kurt:  Is Blaine there with you?

From Sam:  How would I know?

From Kurt:  I don't know, look around?

Kurt wasn't sure his sarcasm would translate through text, and anyway, this was Sam.  He might actually just look around.

From Sam:  Shit, he wants to know who I'm talking to.  I told him Tina, but he doesn't believe me.  Quick, what am I talking to Tina about?

From Kurt:  Does she still like it when you talk about her boobs?

From Sam:  You're a genius! 

From Sam:  I guess I just gave away that he's here.  You really are a genius.

From Kurt:  Please, Sam, tell me what's going on.

From Sam:  Hang on, Blaine's trying to read the texts.  Luckily he can't move very fast. 

From Sam:  I'm in the bathroom now, but I can't stay long.  He'll get suspicious.

From Kurt:  Is he upset about NYADA?  Did he not want to go there?

From Sam:  You mean tonight, or ever?  Sorry, that's kind of a tangent.

From Kurt:  Nice vocab word.

From Sam:  Shut up.

From Kurt:  Is Blaine upset with me?

From Sam:  What did I tell you?

From Kurt:  Fine, then why won't he talk to me?

From Sam:  I can't tell you.

From Sam:  I give up.  Get your ass over here and ask him yourself.

Kurt's heart leapt.  That was exactly what he wanted to do.  But he didn't want to make the situation worse.  Shouldn't he respect Blaine's wishes and give him some space?

From Kurt:  Are you sure?  He clearly doesn't want to see me tonight.

From Sam:  That's ridiculous.  He obviously wants to see you.

From Kurt:  I'm confused.  But I'm coming over.  You better be right.

Kurt wished Sam had just told him what was wrong, but he understood that Sam was trying to do right by his friend.  Kurt knew Sam had Blaine's best interests at heart.  And if Sam said Blaine did want to see him, he would take him at his word. 

Less than an hour later, Kurt was outside Blaine's apartment.  He had texted Sam a few minutes ago, just to give him a heads up and make sure they were still there.  Cryptically, Sam told Kurt not to ring the doorbell, just come in.  As promised, the door was ajar, and Kurt slowly pushed it open, amazed when it didn't even creak.  Blaine and Sam were on the couch, Blaine wearing the same old Dalton t-shirt and striped sleep pants that Kurt had worn the night of the fire at Kurt's apartment building.  Sam glanced quickly at Kurt when he came in, said something to Blaine about getting a book, and went off to his room.

“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Kurt?”  Blaine looked startled, and as he tried to get up off the couch, he tripped and fell down onto the ottoman and an unfortunately placed bag of pretzels.  He slid down to the floor, groaning and burying his face in his hands.

Kurt came over and sat down next to Blaine, back against the ottoman, feet stretched out in front of him.  Blaine rubbed his palms over his face and turned his head, looking sideways at Kurt through his fingers.  "Hi.”

“You okay?”

This was obviously not what Blaine had been expecting him to say, as he was already launching into apology mode.  “I'm sorry about tonight, I just -“

“It doesn't matter,” Kurt interrupted him.  “Just tell me what's wrong.”

Blaine pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.  Kurt noticed how his sleep pants were a little too long, covering his feet, and warmed at how cute his boyfriend was.  Focus, Kurt.  He sighed.  Blaine clearly wasn't volunteering any information.  “Is it your parents?  Cooper?”

Blaine shook his head, looking more and more miserable.

“Did I do something?”

“No, it's not you,” Blaine said fervently.  “It's just…”  Blaine couldn't seem to get any more words out.  He let his head fall to his knees, his eyes scrunched closed, his shoulders shaking.  He looked so small, all curled up and, well, frightened.

Kurt slowly put an arm around Blaine's shoulders, hating the way he was trembling.  “Are you scared?”

Blaine nodded.  “It's so stupid,” he choked out.

“Feelings aren't stupid.”  Kurt pulled Blaine closer, his insides clenching with worry.  “What are you scared of?  Maybe I can help.”  He spoke softly, trying to pour his love for this boy into his words, make him understand that it was safe to talk to him.

“I have to have surgery again.” 

Okay, that was legitimately scary. Given how badly Blaine's first surgery after the accident had gone, and the pain of each of the following ones, it was no wonder he was frightened.  “That's awful.  How come?”

“Something about the way my leg healed, where it was broken the worst, bone fragments or something.”  Blaine's hand rubbed at his right thigh, as if to protect the area in question.  “They think it will help with the pain.”

Kurt wondered how much pain Blaine was in, day to day.  He didn't talk about it very much, aside from an occasional comment about wanting to sit down.  Kurt realized that the time for the talk about Blaine's leg was apparently right now.  Something else to cross off the list.   “Can I ask you something?” 

Blaine nodded.

“How often does your leg hurt?”

Blaine looked confused for a moment, then gave a weak smile.  “Sam said I was going a good job.  Guess he was right.”

“Good job with what?”

“Not letting on how much it hurt.”

“Oh, honey.”  Now Kurt felt like he was going to cry.  “You don't have to hide from me, remember?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh.  “Well, it's like you said the other day.  It's one thing to know something logically….”

“Can I ask you another question?”  At Blaine's nod, Kurt asked “How much of your difficultly walking is due to pain?”

This one Blaine didn't seem to have any trouble answering.  “Depends on the day.  Even when there's no pain, my leg is still stiff and my balance gets thrown off.  That's what we work on in PT, mostly.  But most days, the pain is an issue too.  Some days worse than others.”

“Can I ask you another question?”  Kurt smiled, and Blaine smiled back.

“Sure.”

“If the surgery might help with the pain, why are you scared?”

At this, Blaine's smile disappeared, and he tensed up again.  Kurt tugged Blaine closer until his head was on Kurt's chest, his knees on Kurt's lap.  “I've got you,” he said softly.  “Just talk to me.”

Blaine breathed deeply in Kurt's arms, as if he was gathering his strength.  “I don't want to be back there.  I know this surgery is just a little thing compared to all the other ones, but thinking about it just brings me right back to how I felt then.  Like there was no point in anything, like I was never going to get better.  Today the doctor was trying to tell me about what he was going to do, and about what the recovery would be like, and I just kept getting these flashbacks of doctors telling me that I'd be on my feet in no time, and then being totally, completely wrong.”  Blaine took another deep breath.  “And I don't want to do it again, the recovery.  It was so hard – it's still so hard – and this will only push me backwards.”  He paused, and when he spoke again, Kurt could barely hear him.  “What if it goes wrong?  What if I can't recover this time?”  Kurt knew what he wasn't saying, the same thing that had haunted him two years ago, that had seemed like it was going to come true:  what if I can never walk again?

“But this is really just a minor surgery, right?”

“Yeah, but even minor surgeries can go wrong, infections, whatever.”  Blaine wasn't being irrational – it seemed like everything that could go wrong with his previous surgeries had. 

“Barring any unusual problems, though, what did the doctor actually say about recovery time after this surgery?  Because most of the time they want people to walk around as soon as you can after surgeries, right?”

Blaine shrugged, his shoulder bumping up against Kurt's chest.  “Not if it's your leg that's broken.”

“But your leg isn't broken anymore.  And it's not as if they're going to rebreak it, right?”  That had happened to Blaine before, and it had not gone well.

“No, they're not.”  Kurt let out a little sigh of relief at that, and Blaine heard him.  “Yeah, me too.”  Blaine took a breath and sat up a little, looking at Kurt.  “They said I'd probably be back to where I am now in two to four weeks.”

“When's the surgery?”

“Next Friday.”  Two days after Blaine's NYADA performance, Kurt thought.

“So, even if it's four weeks, that's before school starts.  That's not so bad, right?”

Blaine moved off of Kurt and laid his head back against the ottoman, looking up at the ceiling.  “I guess.  But it isn't what I wanted for the rest of my summer.  Things were going so well…  you shouldn't have to deal with this.”

“Blaine?”  Kurt waited until Blaine had turned to him to respond, and then got up on his knees, facing Blaine and meeting his gaze directly.  “It's been over two years since Finn's death.  I'm still sad sometimes, but I'm no longer an unmedicated ball of swirling grief.  I promise you, I can handle your minor surgery, and your bedridden, mopey self, and any wheelchair challenges that come along.”  Kurt took Blaine's hands in both of his and held them tightly.  “I know it might be hard, given what happened last time, but you can trust me on this one now.  Okay?”  Please trust me, Blaine.

Blaine eyes scrunched closed, and a tear escaped.  “Okay.” 

Kurt slid around to his side and pulled him into a tight hug, holding him as Blaine finally let go and cried, his tears making little wet spots on Kurt's shirt. “I've got you, honey, it's okay,” he murmured.  “We're going to be all right this time, I promise.”  And with all his heart, he meant it.  His dad was right – he wasn't likely to get another chance to make it work with Blaine, and he wasn't going to screw this one up.