Kurt would never forget the night that he woke up to have Blaine walking through his bedroom door, bloody and bruised.

At 2 AM when Burt Hummel had answered the door to yell at whoever was playing a trick on them, he did not expect what awaited him. Blaine Anderson stood there, blood dripping from his mouth, and Kurt's father was at a loss for words. Seeing Blaine like that was something that he had never anticipated. White t-shirt stained with blood and bruises blossoming on his bare arms, here was the person that was always so tough. Very uncharacteristically, his eyes glistened with unshed tears as they pleaded for Burt to understand. Burt was still half asleep, and somehow he wasn't processing everything he was seeing. Still, he knew that something was very, very wrong.

"I'm sorry," Blaine uttered in a barely audible voice. "I just…just didn't know where else to go. I'm so sorry." Without a word, Kurt's father opened the door wide enough to let Blaine enter, and then he led him up the staircase to Kurt's room. Not even hesitating, he let Blaine into the room where is son was still sleeping, shutting the door behind him. When he reached the bedroom that he shared with Carole, something had finally registered in his brain. It wasn't as if he could just turn around and go back into Kurt's room at that point, but there was no way he was going to get any more sleep that night with his brain spinning in circles.

Slowly blinking his eyes, Kurt had seen his father silhouetted in the light coming from his closing door. As his pupils adjusted to the darkness, Kurt recognized another figure, and he was suddenly wide awake, his heart thundering in his chest. What the hell is going on? Why did my dad let Blaine into my room at 2 AM? Am I dreaming?

Leaning over to his nightstand, Kurt flicked on his bedside lamp and froze. One look at Blaine was all he needed as he explanation. As Kurt's gaze swept across Blaine's body, the other boy's eyes were blank and expressionless. Blaine was noticeably shaking, and Kurt, suddenly feeling weak-kneed himself, reached out to his boyfriend and beckoned him over. Stiffly, the injured boy obeyed, sitting on the corner of Kurt's bed. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's shaking shoulders, Kurt drew him to his chest. Have his shoulders always been this frail? He didn't care that Blaine could probably hear how wildly his heart was pounding.

All he cared about right now was Blaine.

Everything felt like a hazy blur, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not. Though his boyfriend was so broken in his arms, Kurt just couldn't bring himself to feel like it was real. But if it is... oh, God... if it is real…

Black curls tickled his fingers as he stroked Blaine's abnormally messy hair. Against his own chest, Kurt could feel Blaine's shallow breathing slowing to match his own. Struggling to keep his throat from closing up, Kurt began softly humming. It wasn't any specific tune, just music. When Kurt used to get upset as a little boy, this was exactly the way his mother used to calm him. No matter what age, music was always important to Kurt.

Burrowing his face into Blaine's curls, Kurt caressed down the side of his bloody face. Brushing away the tears that he found on Blaine's cheeks, Kurt held his boyfriend even tighter. Even if this is just a dream, I have to be the strong one; I have to take care of Blaine. Furrowing his brow, Kurt couldn't help but just stare at the hurt boy's face. Even though it sent a sharp, cold jolt through his heart, he couldn't manage to drag his eyes away from his broken boyfriend.

Trailing his fingers gently across Blaine's injured face, Kurt realized that his boyfriend's eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and steady. He had fallen asleep in Kurt's lap. Though Blaine's breathing had become steadier, his lovely features were still warped with anxiety. Brushing his lips softly against Blaine's forehead, Kurt pressed a kiss into his boyfriend's fragile skin. Why does he seem so much more breakable than ever before? The frame that Kurt always used to find so sturdy now felt like it could collapse at any minute. Suddenly, Kurt was afraid of hurting his already damaged boyfriend.

"I love you my precious angel," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear. It was something that Kurt needed to tell him, regardless of whether this really was a dream or not. Please, this cannot be real. Please, just let Blaine be all right. As his thoughts continued to churn in his head, Kurt's eyelids became heavy. Apparently just waiting for his eyes to drift close, a restless sleep took him under.

Blood was splattering the otherwise white walls and tiles. Lying in the middle of the floor in a pool of crimson liquid was Blaine. He was crumpled in a pile, whimpering in pain. No matter how hard Kurt tried to talk, no words would come out. All he could do was watch helplessly as Blaine writhed and contorted in pain beneath his feet. Internally, Kurt was screaming at the top of his lungs. BLAINE! BLAINE! WHAT HAPPENED, BLAINE? WHO DID THIS TO YOU? Frantically, Kurt waved his arms trying to get Blaine's attention. That was when he got a good look at his arms. Kurt gaped at his crimson stained hands in horror.

Blaine's black curls muffled his scream as the two of them jolted awake.

They were in Kurt's room. They were safe in Kurt's bed. Blaine was safe in Kurt's arms.

Except for the fact that there were specks of dried blood crusted to his skin and discolorations of a shadowy blue on his arms that indicated the formation of bruises.

Everything that happened that morning came crashing back to him in a second, and Kurt suddenly felt his lungs closing up. Oh, God. It's real, isn't it? Kurt still couldn't get air into his lungs, yet now, in addition, he could feel his hands trembling. Everything that happened last night was real, no matter how much it may seem or I may hope that it was just a dream. At this thought, Kurt could feel his stomach turn. Worried round eyes were staring up at Kurt's own, triggering something in his thoughts. As his mind caught up with his surroundings and what happened last night, Kurt drew Blaine closer to him. I have to protect him. Wrapping his arms tighter around Blaine's waist, Kurt didn't dare let go for fear that if he did, the boy in front of him would crumple like in his nightmare.

In the light of day, Kurt could clearly see the injuries. Purple bruises were dappled across Blaine's bare arms, and Kurt was sure that they continued under his t-shirt. Scrapes trailed across his skin, marring his olive tone. Scabs were starting to form on Blaine's face, and the blood had all dried. Damn it, why didn't I think about this before? Who the hell did this to him? I need to know what happened, Kurt realized for the first time. Shaking himself, he came to some fraction of an understanding. No matter how scared I am, Blaine must be even more terrified. So, Kurt braced himself for the answer. Trying to imagine that this was all just a dream, Kurt blocked out the worries of forming his words into the right sentences. If this is a dream, then it won't matter what I say. I just need to know.

"You may not want to talk about it," Kurt ventured, "but I really need to know what happened last night." Holding his breath as Blaine averted his eyes, Kurt wanted to learn the truth. He still hoped, though, that Blaine would tell him that nothing was wrong. Kurt wanted Blaine to explain some elaborate story that had something to do with random clumsiness, and ended in Blaine somehow accidentally getting hurt. But that's not going to happen. There is so much more to it than that. Really, that's not what I want to hear, though, I need the truth. Weaving his fingers through Blaine's, Kurt gave his hand a squeeze of comfort. "Please," Kurt softened his voice, almost pleading. "I just need to know." No matter what his answer, I must stay strong. Even if I am dreaming right now, I need to prove that if Blaine ever needs anything from me, I will be there.

Turning his attention back to the fragile boy sitting beside him, Kurt could see the tension in his jaw. As Blaine shifted nervously, Kurt caught a glimpse of his face. There was something oddly stony about it, with little resemblance to the expression that he had seen the night before. That terrified face from two o'clock was no longer there, and in its place was something that scared Kurt even more. It was an emptiness that somehow made Kurt feel like everything was more real. Still, though, Kurt tried to recompose himself as he held on to the fantasy of this just being a dream, because his brain still didn't completely comprehend this nightmare as reality yet.

Blaine's quavering voice refocused Kurt back to the present, whether it was a dreamland or reality. Softly and slowly, Blaine spoke words that Kurt never imagined he would ever utter. "When I was a little boy, my father used to be my role model. I hoped that I could be just like him when I grew up. But when I was eight, he became the person I least wanted to resemble, in any kind of way." The words quickly spilling from Blaine's mouth had a somewhat rehearsed tone to them, as if he had practiced in his mind a million different ways to say them. "It had been a bad day at work for him, I guess. By the time he came home, his breath was reeking of whisky and it was after nine o'clock. He didn't actually take it out on me, at first, he started with my mother. That wasn't the only time that happened, it was only the beginning, but that was the night that changed my mind. After that, every time that something wasn't perfect, we were the ones to blame."

Kurt didn't want to think about what those words meant, but he wasn't in control of his mind in its current state. Sharply, Kurt took in a breath. Of all of the ideas that crossed my mind, I didn't…oh, God...that means that Blaine has been hiding this from me for so long.

Blaine was rushing to get his words out now, and Kurt had to struggle to refocus his thoughts. As the injured boy spoke, there was a tense yet fragile coldness in his voice. "Yesterday, when I came home, my mom was gone. Clothes were strewn all over my parents' bedroom. She had packed, taken the car, and left. I was all alone." Avoiding looking at Kurt was the only way that Blaine had to keep himself from breaking down, yet even that could only last for so long.

"When my dad came home, he was furious." Softly rubbing the small of Blaine's back, Kurt could feel his boyfriend trembling beneath his fingertips. "Usually, he is careful to not do anything that would be too noticeable, but this time he didn't even care." Falling silent, Blaine cut off suddenly, swiping at a tear that had escaped down his cheek. There's something else that Blaine wants to say, Kurt knew, but what is it? He didn't push Blaine to keep talking. He's already said so much. Trying to hide the hiccup of a sob that escaped his lips, Blaine attempted to pull away. Of course, Kurt wasn't going to let that happen.

Gently enveloping Blaine in his slender arms, Kurt held the boy's head to his chest. Wrenching sobs tore through Blaine's chest as he finally let go of his façade, even if it was just for a little while. Tears soaked Kurt's shirt, but he barely noticed anything other than his boyfriend. It's my turn to take care of him, Kurt thought.

As the shuddering underneath Kurt's hands lessened, Blaine let out a small whimper that reminded him of how real everything was. Still, though, it was as if he was looking at the scene from outside of his body; he couldn't process what he had learned, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. Just give me a little bit longer, Kurt pleaded with something inside of himself. Just let me act like this isn't something that is going to turn my life upside down. I know that Blaine needs for me to listen to the truth and I can't pretend that this is just a dream. This is real. His pain, his memories, they're all real. I just need to be here to keep all of the pieces from falling apart even more. All I have to do is just keep Blaine steady in this unreal nightmare. Surprisingly enough, Kurt realized that his mind was growing clearer, as if his subconscious was slacking up on the onslaught of thoughts that was previously assaulting him.

Lifting his head from Kurt's chest, Blaine gave Kurt an attempted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It seemed as if the damaged boy was trying, just like Kurt was, to just pretend again, and Kurt was just letting him. Maybe it'll be okay for just a little bit longer, but I know that we can't keep just faking our way through every day, hoping that the good might somehow cancel out the bad. In his arms, Kurt could feel the boy closing himself off again, trying to be the same person he always had been. He was trying to smile even through all of the crap that had happened the previous night. Why does he think he has to be so perfect and strong for me?

Looking again at Blaine's bloodstained face and shirt almost broke Kurt's heart. Something has to be done about this. First of all, Blaine needs to be cleaned up. Pulling Blaine to his feet, Kurt let him to the bathroom. On the way, he slowly slipped back into who he was on a daily basis, pushing everything to the back of his mind. Painted an aqua blue, the bathroom had a soft edge to it. Not surprisingly, everything was organized perfectly. The white granite countertop was almost pristine except for a small makeup bag.

Opening the closet, Kurt took out a white washcloth that was bound to be trash by the end of its use. Kurt motioned for Blaine to sit on the closed toilet seat as he ran the water over the towel. Brushing back Blaine's hair from his forehead, Kurt gently began cleaning the blood off of it. God, this is harder than I thought. The actual washing part wasn't difficult. Neither was the blood, thanks to Kurt's strange fascination with medical dramas. (In his defense, all of the doctors were young and cute too.) What really got him was how difficult it was to act like this was normal, as if he had to clean up wounds every other day.

Kurt's heart strained as he discovered yet another split on Blaine's brow. Pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's temple, he thought, I wish a kiss would make it all better. I wish I could heal you. But there is just so much that I can't fix. Brushing the washcloth over Blaine's lips, Kurt was surprised when his boyfriend flinched away, hand flying to his mouth.

"I'm so, so sorry," Kurt rushed to apologize. He was trying so hard not to put Blaine in any more pain. "Please let me see." Delicately, Kurt took Blaine's hand in his own and drew it away from his face. The split lip was trickling blood down his recently cleaned chin. Oh so carefully, Kurt brought his lips into contact with Blaine's. It wasn't a kiss, per say, it was much more subtle and over to quickly. As Kurt leaned backwards, he still tasted the salty sting of blood as he ran his tongue over his own, perfect lips. Bringing the washcloth back to dab at Blaine's mouth, Kurt mumbled another apology.

Over Blaine jaw and down his lithe neck, Kurt sponged up the fresh rivulet of blood, trying not to think about what he was really doing. When he reached the neck of Blaine's t-shirt, he realized just how much that shirt needed to be changed. Yesterday was a bad day to wear white.

"Come on, let's get you changed out of that unfashionable mess," Kurt said, trying to get a smile out of Blaine. It didn't work. All he got was a very puzzled look, like Blaine thought he was insane. Well, at least he doesn't look like the victim that just stepped out of a horror movie anymore, Kurt attempted to add humor to his thoughts, yet they still came off forced. It still was painful to see Blaine shutting himself down again, blocking out those feelings and just pretending to still be the person Kurt always thought he was.

"I don't have any clothes to…." Suddenly catching on, Blaine looked like he had just practically choked on the air. "Wait, do you expect me to wear one of your outfits." There's the smile I was looking for. If Kurt was being honest with himself, he would know that the expression barely reached the corners of the other boy's mouth, and that just a little smile was not nearly proof that he was all right. Still, Kurt was willing to play along, even if he knew that it would be limited.

With a stage gasp, Kurt scoffed in a feigned tone, "Well, I'm absolutely shocked that you don't think I would have the basics." Tugging Blaine back into his room, Kurt let his mind create a different scenario for why his boyfriend was going to wear some of his clothes. "Just promise me you won't laugh," Kurt said, standing guard in front of his closet door. Wickedly, Blaine's lips curled, but he gave a nod of consent. With a flourish, Kurt let Blaine into what he would call his favorite place in his house.

First things first, it could not be called a closet. It was a full-blown room, absolutely bursting with eye-popping clothes. The walls were practically made out of rows of hanging garments. At the end of the long room, there was a mirror so large that it reached to the ceiling and it sides disappeared into the clothes on either side. Centered in the room was a hot pink sofa. A freaking sofa, for Christ's sake.

Observing the bewildered look on Blaine's face, Kurt led Blaine to the end of one row of clothes. Still, though, he was As Kurt placed his hand on his sparkling Lady Gaga outfit, he felt Blaine jerk his hand free and take a step back. He looks like he's about to sprint out of here.

"Hold up a second," Kurt's voice was laughing, yet it felt strange in his current situation. "Do you really think I would have you wear that?" Sheepishly, Blaine avoided Kurt's eyes, seeming much more reassured, though still stiff and robotic. It was obvious that Blaine was struggling to keep thought from last night at bay almost as much as Kurt was, if not more. "Now come here. I don't want to pick out clothes for you like I'm your mother or something." Actually, it would be extremely fun to dress you up, he added silently in another endeavor to help him keep the tight smile on his lips.

Pushing the sparkling outfit out of the way, Kurt revealed a much more demure dresser. "This is where I keep all of my basics. Since they don't wrinkle easily, it's all right that they are not hanging up. Anyways, I ran out of space and I still had to hang some things that just could not be put in a dresser." Blaine seemed hesitant of touching anything for fear that he would mess something up. Warily, Blaine opened a drawer and gave a sigh of relief at the contents. "I'll just go outside while you change," Kurt offered, and he quickly moved to the door, shutting it behind him when he left the room.

As he sat in his bedroom, Kurt began to grow short of breath again. Without anything to hold his attention, his thoughts were growing again, and it was as if they were suffocating him. I need to tell someone else…I need to tell my dad! Somehow, in the eventfulness of his morning, he had forgotten that his father was the one that let Blaine in that morning. We can't pretend that none of this happened. It's completely unfair to everyone, especially Blaine. Yet, Kurt found himself just growing numb instead of really confronting his thought. Despite anything else, the next thing I need to do is talk to my dad, Kurt told himself as Blaine opened the door.

Blaine was wearing black skinny jeans, the cuffs rolled up because the length clearly wasn't quite right for him. A purple heathered V-neck tee was plenty formfitting as well, and he had opted for a grey leather jacket to cover the bruising on his arms. Bruises that aren't going to disappear, no matter how much either of us ignores the fact that they exist. Hooked around the neck of his t-shirt was a pair of neon pink Wayfarer sunglasses, which caused a flush crawl across Kurt's cheeks. One time, when they were at Blaine's house, Kurt had snagged a pair of Blaine's sunglasses from his set of neon shades. Kurt had hoped that he would never notice, but now it was obvious that the other boy clearly had.

"Well, have I got your heart racing in my skintight jeans yet," Blaine teased weakly, and Kurt could see right through the light humor his boyfriend was trying to portray. In his mind, Kurt answered, I will sure be dreaming about you tonight. I just hope it isn't I nightmare, like last night. Slipping his hand into Blaine's, Kurt understood that he would have to stop pretending that everything was just as usual

"Are you ready to go downstairs now? We really need to talk to my dad." As Blaine's face fell, Kurt gave his hand a small squeeze. Truthfully, Kurt was petrified of explaining to his father, but Burt needed to know. "It's going to be okay. I won't let it be any other way." Saying the words, Kurt entirely believed that he would keep fighting for Blaine, but somehow he doubted that everything was okay. Just one glace into Blaine's eyes was enough to validate just how broken he was.

Hesitantly, Blaine followed Kurt's lead down the stairs. When they entered the kitchen, Burt Hummel was sitting at the table, hands folded in front of him. He didn't look angry. In fact, he looked rather concerned with his eyebrows knitted together in a kind of frown.

Letting the boys take their seats before talking, Kurt's dad observed their entwined hands. Under his eyes were dark circles, indicating his lack of sleep the night before. In a much softer tone than expected, he said, "Just tell me." Shooting a frantic and pleading look in Kurt's direction, Blaine was discernibly apprehensive. I'm not sure if Blaine can manage trying to tell someone else's father about… With that, Kurt made the decision that it would be to tell his own father, yet he struggled to figure out how to explain. Unsure of what to say, Kurt's mind was spinning. It was Blaine's story, so he didn't want to say something that Blaine didn't want to share.

Stumbling over his words, Kurt was only able to get out a few words before trailing off. "Blaine's father…" He didn't know how to finish his sentence, but that was all Burt needed to hear. Closing his eyes, Kurt's dad took a deep, shaking breath. It was as if he was trying to compose himself before he opened his eyes again. Though he still had a sadness about him, Burt's jaw was now set, and it was easy to see the paternal anger in his expression.

With a paced and abnormally steady tone, Burt asked, "Now, what are you planning to do?" When the two boys only wore confused expressions on their faces, Burt clarified with a stern tone, "If you think I'm going to let you go back there, you are sadly mistaken." Agreeing with his father, Kurt nodded. But where else does Blaine have to go, he contemplated. Suddenly, he had an idea, but he wasn't sure if his father would buy it.

"Can…can Blaine stay… here?" Kurt ventured. Wincing, he half expected his dad to lose his steady composure and immediately respond with a harsh refusal. When Kurt risked a glance at his dad, though, Burt appeared to be actually contemplating the idea.

On the other hand, Blaine was staring a Kurt as if he was absolutely senseless to offer up the possibility. "No way. I could never do that. It would be way too much of a hassle, and I have all of my things at my house anyway," he protested adamantly. Opening his mouth, he was about to continue, but Burt cut him off.

"Yes."

The boys stared in awe at Kurt's father. What? Seriously, Kurt wondered, what has gotten into my father? Then, the severity of Blaine situation hit him hard in the stomach again, knocking the questions from his mind.

"But," Burt added, pointedly looking at Blaine, "I'll be keeping a close eye on you." This may be a lot more awkward than I originally imagined, Kurt realized. Blaine… living in my house… with my dad… and Finn… sleeping here every night… oh God. Sure that his face was beet red, Kurt felt like his head was about to explode. How am I even thinking about that with everything that happened last night? That should be the least of my worries.

"Now, Blaine," Burt interrupted Kurt's spiraling thoughts. "You said that you have all of your possessions still at your house. You'll be needing to go back to get some of your clothes, if I'm not mistaken. Do you know when there be a time that we could drive over?" Eying the clothes he was wearing, Burt had a look of disapproval. He could tell that they weren't Blaine's. Taking control of the situation, Burt was the one that was actually considering Blaine's mandatory needs. I'm forever grateful to have a father like this, Kurt suddenly realized. What would I do without him? What would I do if he were like Blaine's… No! Stopping his thought from traveling down that dark path, Kurt.

Biting his lip, Blaine thought for a minute. Fear was transparent in his expression, despite how steady Blaine endeavored to speak his words. "He works on Saturdays, so I think might be able to get some of my things right now?" It wasn't exactly a question, but Blaine was trying to do right by Kurt's father. Kurt, though, felt the same fear that he knew was in his boyfriend's mind at the prospect of returning to the house where so many things had happened. Someone should go with him. I don't want to send him back there all alone. What if his father is actually still there? What if something even worse happens when he goes back? What if…

As Kurt opened his mouth about offer to go, Blaine rushed to say, "Please, can I go alone?" The expression on his face was one of worry, but it was clear that he wasn't going to back down from his assertion of returning to that house unaccompanied.

"Just be careful, alright?" Clearly, Kurt's father was beginning to worry if he was doing the right thing by sending Blaine back to his house. Kurt understood, though, when his father did not try to convince him to let them come. Not only did he know that neither of them would be able to alter that stubborn boy's decision to go alone, but also it was clear that Burt would never allow Kurt to go into that house now that he knew how dangerous it could be. It was difficult enough letting the boy who lived there go back, and Kurt understood how trying it would be to allow your own son to possibly walk into danger along with his boyfriend. Handing a pair of car keys to Blaine, Burt led him to the door.

If not for his father, Kurt would have given Blaine a kiss to comfort them both. Instead, he just attempted to smile in encouragement and unsuccessfully dispel the fears from his thoughts. As Burt closed the door on Blaine, Kurt's nerves began to kick in. Not only was he worried for his boyfriend, but also he had a hunch as to why his dad wanted to be alone with him.

Kurt really didn't want to have that talk with his father, but he had no other choice right now.