"Scotty, what level math are you in right now?"

"Geometry. Why?"

"Fuck. You're not going to understand this college algebra any better than I do."

"I'm afraid not."

Out of frustration, Blaine threw his pencil at the door, surprised to see the door start opening mid-flight to reveal Laurel who was quick enough to duck just before the pencil would have impaled her forehead.

"If that had stabbed me in the head and killed me, you would have felt bad," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "It wouldn't have stabbed you. I didn't throw it with enough force to have it break your skull. It just would've hit you and fallen on the ground."

"Why are you throwing your writing utensils anyway?" she asked, picking up the pencil from the floor and crossing the room to place it right next to Blaine's paper on his desk.

"Because," he sighed, "it's difficult to try to teach yourself advanced mathematics and I'm frustrated."

"So why don't you call Kurt and have him help you?"

The air was sucked out of the room in just that one simple sentence. Blaine tensed and kept his eyes trained on his paper of polynomial equations, avoiding Laurel's probing eyes above him and Scotty's behind him on the bed.

"Kurt doesn't really like to talk to me unless it's an emergency," Blaine admitted.

It was true. That first day Blaine had returned for Thanksgiving break and he'd called Kurt to come deal with Scotty was an emergency. But when Blaine suggested he help him catch up on all of his homework and Kurt rejected the idea, it occurred to him that Kurt didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to see him. They were broken up. He'd only come for Scotty's benefit, not Blaine's.

"It's fine," Blaine continued, brushing off Laurel's pitying expression. He stood up and headed for his closet. "Really. I'm fine. I can do this on my own. I just need a little break, some fresh air." He reached inside his closet and got his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and headed for the door. At the last minute, he turned around to look at Scotty, who was still sitting on his bed. "Are you okay with staying here while I go out?"

Scotty shrugged. "Sure. I'll just watch TV with Laurel or something."

Blaine nodded and left his room. He'd made it to the door and was grabbing his keys before Laurel came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going.

"Blaine."

He sighed. "I'm just going for a walk. I'll go get coffee or go to a park or something."

"I just worry about you going to get alcohol."

"I know you do. But I'm fine, really. I'm honestly just going to get some fresh air. I'll have my cell phone on me and everything. Okay?"

Even though he hadn't turned around to see her face, Blaine could tell his cousin wasn't happy with this; but with one last squeeze she let go of his shoulder. "Alright. Just be back in time for dinner."

"Will do."

Finally, he was out the door and walking down the street, inhaling the fresh scent of the soon on-coming winter. It had started to snow on Monday and the weather forecast had predicted it would continue to snow all Thanksgiving day and through the weekend, making booking a flight for Sunday to go back to school difficult.

Despite how far behind Blaine had gotten, he'd used the past few days to his advantage and was almost completely caught up in all of his classes. He'd saved math for last because he knew it would be the hardest for him, and now he was only about a couple pages through the notes before he needed to give up. No, give up wasn't the right phrasing, because Blaine most certainly was not giving up. He just needed a break.

So he took to the streets and started walking around the neighbourhood, just enjoying the way snow had the effect to make everything magical. Winter had always been Blaine's favourite season. The way the death of everything provided hope for the rebirth of spring right after. It was the cycle of life; things had to die for new things to be born. That was just the way the world worked. But it was beautiful, to Blaine, because the end of a life was something to celebrate, as it gave way to another.

After an hour and a half of aimlessly wandering through the streets, Blaine found himself in a park he used to frequent in his adolescence, after his parents and after Trevor, to just clear his head and try to collect himself before rejoining society. There was a group of a few guys in the far field throwing around a football and a couple of kids playing on the swing set, but other than that the park was mostly empty. No one really wanted to play outside when it was so cold and dreary. Today was what most people in Ohio would call an Indoors Day.

Since the swings were taken by children, Blaine went for his second favourite place in the park, the slide. He climbed onto the playground set and sat at the mouth of the slide, not going down but not getting up, just suspending himself on the precipice. One of the guys threw the football a bit too far so that it landed right next to the slide. Another one yelled out something about, "You missed the catch, you go get the ball, dipshit!"

Before Blaine knew what was happening, one Finn Hudson was standing below him, picking up the football and staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Long time no see," Finn said, awkwardly chuckling.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed.

They both remained where they were, Finn rooted to the ground and Blaine rooted to the slide, staring each other down.

Blaine figured Finn was about to start tearing into him for hurting Kurt the way he did, so what Finn said next completely threw him for a loop. "I'm really sorry to hear about your parents and your brother and everything."

"Uh…"

"I mean I know your brother is doing better now but that must have been hard."

He just blinked, not even knowing what was happening right now. "Finn, not that I don't appreciate the sympathy, but why aren't you…I don't know…yelling at me? Calling your friends over here to beat me up for what happened with Kurt?"

"I thought about it," Finn answered honestly, shrugging, "but then Kurt and I had a long talk the other night and he told me how it wasn't all your fault, and how the universe just kept shitting on you. So that sucks. And I kinda know how that feels because in high school my girlfriend got pregnant and then it wasn't even mine it was my best friend's and then my other girlfriend cheated on me with that same best friend and shit just kept happening, ya know? So I totally get how you feel."

Actually, Blaine thought, you don't understand at all. But it was a valiant effort from Finn, and it meant a lot to Blaine that he was trying to understand when, if it had been Blaine, he would have been out for blood for the person who hurt Kurt.

Why had the universe been so cruel to him and now it had suddenly decided to give him a free pass?

"Thanks, Finn."

Thinking the conversation was over, Blaine turned his attention to the sky, admiring the grey clouds promising to release inches and inches of snow to douse the flames that had long been burning Blaine's world to the ground.

Finn coughed to get Blaine's attention again and said, "Kurt would probably kill me for doing this, but what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow? You and Laurel and that kid that's staying with you."

"Scott," Blaine supplied, eyeing Finn suspiciously. "And we're not doing anything, just having that whole traditional turkey dinner and whatnot."

"How about you guys come over to our house? I know Burt wouldn't mind, and my mom would probably love to cook for more people. Plus, I know they both miss you almost as much as Kurt does."

This did not feel like a good idea. "Um…"

"You don't have to stay the whole day or anything. You could just be there for a few hours."

"I'm not so sure Kurt wants to see me, Finn."

"Trust me, that's the only thing he wants these days."

For days Blaine had thought that maybe it really was over, that Kurt wanted nothing more to do with him, that he'd blown his chances. Of course, that hadn't deterred Blaine from coming up with all sorts of plans to get Kurt back, but he was starting to doubt how effective they'd be. With this new intel from Finn, though, Blaine just had to find out if that was true. He owed it to himself and to Kurt and to their relationship to keep fighting, no matter how bleak it seemed.

"Alright. We'll be there."

With a quick nod and a muttered, "Cool," Finn was jogging back to his group of friends to continue throwing the football around.

Blaine stayed on the slide for a bit more, weighing his options.

According to Finn, Kurt still wanted to be with him, still wanted to see him, still cared about him. That was a good thing, right? And Finn said that they had talked it out one night, and Kurt had told him all about what happened. If whatever Kurt said to Finn made it seem like they really had a shot of getting back together, Blaine couldn't even be mad that Kurt might have told Finn personal things about him and his family and their relationship. After all, Blaine had been inadvertently spilling all of his secrets to all sorts of people these days; Burt, Carter, everyone. It didn't really matter that Kurt told Finn, who would one day be his step-brother-in-law with any luck.

He could do this. Blaine could do this. He could get himself together. He'd already caught up on two weeks' worth of work for four out of his five classes, which was quite the feat. It would take some work and determination, but he knew that he could get that college algebra stuff too. And he'd already stopped drinking, hadn't had a single drop since their break-up; which, considering how hard their break-up was on him for those first two weeks was pretty remarkable. When he promised to Burt Hummel that he would be good enough for Kurt by the New Year, he meant it, and he was working hard to make good on that promise. If he kept it up, he could maybe even have Kurt back before the New Year.

With a new resolution to get Kurt back sooner, he took a deep breath and pushed himself off the edge, sliding into his new life.

…

"I'm back," Blaine called as he stepped across the threshold.

He heard pots and pans banging in the kitchen accompanied by Laurel shouting, "We're in here!"

Following the sound, Blaine found Laurel and Scotty in the kitchen, looking like the refrigerator had exploded.

"Uh…"

"We're trying to start preparations for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, but I don't remember where I put the recipe book. Do you know where I put it, Blainers?"

At the nickname, Scotty giggled into his hand. "I'm sorry. I know I've heard her call you that a million times since I've been here but it never gets old."

Blaine rolled his eyes and came further into the kitchen to smack Scotty in the back of the head and locate the recipe book, which was behind the dish washing detergent underneath the sink. Once he bent down and retrieved it, he held it up to Laurel. "Found it."

"Why was it in the back of the cabinet under the sink?"

"Why was the sugar too high for either of us to reach that first day Kurt slept over?"

"Touch�. I should know by now that nothing in this house makes sense."

Clearing a space on the counter, Blaine hopped up and sat on the edge, swinging his legs and watching as Laurel tried to make sense of recipes she used every year.

"So where did you go?" Laurel asked, going for nonchalant.

It didn't work. Blaine could hear it in her voice that she was only asking to make sure he hadn't gone and bought alcohol and smuggled it in under his coat or anything.

"To the park. I just kind of hung out for a while." He paused, then added, "I saw Finn there."

Laurel immediately stopped her movements and turned around to face him. "Finn Hudson?"

"Yes."

"Who's Finn Hudson?" Scotty asked.

Blaine replied, "Kurt's step-brother," then brought his attention back to Laurel. "He invited us to their house for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow."

"And what did you say?"

"I said we'd be there."

"Blaine!" Laurel hit Blaine on the arm. "Why would you do that?"

"First of all, OW! Really? How was that necessary? Second of all, he was trying to be nice! He was extending the olive branch when he should have been kicking my ass after what I put Kurt through. It seemed rude to decline his offer. We don't have to stay the whole time, Laur. We could just come, eat, and leave."

"That's even more rude. It's like we're just using them for their food." Laurel shook her head and sighed, then looked to Scotty. "Scott, could you let us talk in private for a second?" He looked startled for a second, but nodded and left, heading back down the hall to Blaine's room. With Scotty gone, Laurel stepped to stand directly in front of Blaine and took his face in her hands. "I'm just worried about you, Blaine. Do you really think the best idea for you right now is to go spend a holiday with Kurt and his family?"

Blaine kept direct eye contact to show that the idea didn't make him nervous or fidgety. "Finn said that Kurt wants to see me. If Kurt wants to see me, then I'll go over there."

"If Kurt wants to see you, why has he been ignoring your calls?"

"He hasn't been ignoring my calls. He's just…Look, we broke up, I know that. I'm not stupid. I don't think we're just on a break; I haven't deluded myself that far. But if Finn is implying that I haven't lost everything I had with Kurt, I have to go see for myself."

"And what happens if Finn was misguided as he so often is and Kurt really doesn't want to see you and things really are over? What happens then?"

With a sigh, Blaine threw her hands from his face and walked away, heading for the dining room table. "It's not like that."

"Blaine, just try to understand where I'm coming from here. I'm so proud of all of the progress you've made in getting better again; it's the fastest I've ever seen you pull yourself together. I just want to make sure that all of the hard work you've been doing doesn't fall apart. I'm afraid that if your chances of getting back together with Kurt are smaller than you're hoping for that you'll just fall back down again."

"Listen to me, alright? Just try to listen to me for a second and really absorb what I'm saying to you. I'm doing this for me. I'm turning myself around for my benefit, not just Kurt's. I'm tired of being that guy, alright? I don't want to be that guy anymore, that guy that hates himself and goes out and gets drunk at the slightest blip in his life. I'm really trying to be a better person, not only in the hopes that Kurt could love me again, but in the hopes that maybe I could love myself."

The whole time he'd been talking, he was looking down at the floor, but at the sound of sniffling he snapped his head up to see Laurel crying. She offered a watery smile and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cry, I'm PMSing so my emotions are all over the place. And just knowing that you have to work so hard just to love yourself, that hurts me, because you're just this amazing person and you don't even see it." She chuckled to herself and wiped at the tears on her face. "I even, um—well I know that your primary language is music, so I just, I have this song that I've been rehearsing for you on the old keyboard in my room, but you probably don't want to hear it—"

"I'd love to," Blaine whispered, because suddenly the moment seemed too delicate for a higher volume of speech.

Here his cousin was—his sweet, beautiful, compassionate, loving cousin—standing in their kitchen crying because he couldn't figure out how to love himself. So she practiced a song to sing to him to express how she felt, because she knew that that was the best way to get a point across to him. Laurel was the most amazing person he had ever met in his life, aside from Kurt. He wondered why he had to continuously have realizations of that fact instead of just keeping it rooted in his brain.

She nodded and walked over to him, extending her hand. He intertwined their fingers and allowed himself to be lead to her room, where sure enough, the old keyboard that had previously been held in storage sat in front of her full-length mirror on the wall. She let go of his hand and gestured for him sit on her bed as she perched herself on the piano bench. After a moment, she placed her hands on the keys and began to play.

Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark
Emerging from the gentle grip of night's unfolding arms
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone

You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear
It floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

I will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky
You will see your beauty every moment that you rise

When she finished and spun around to face him, there were tears in both of their eyes.

Laurel smiled softly and murmured, "I know I'm not much of a singer but—"

"But nothing," Blaine cut her off. "That was beautiful. Thank you."

They both rose from where they were sitting and met in the middle of the room, throwing their arms around each other.

The bond Blaine shared with his cousin, it was so very special. This whole time he'd been focusing on rebuilding his relationship with Kurt, but he never thought about the damage that might have been done to his relationship with Laurel; he never thought how his actions might have affected her. All she wanted was for Blaine to be happy, and all he wanted was to get wasted, and he didn't care who got hurt in the process.

Now he was adding Laurel to the list of people he'd make himself better for.

"I'm really trying here, Laur. I'm trying so hard to see what you see in me," he said into her hair, holding her closer.

Laurel squeezed right back and replied, "I know. I know you are. Change doesn't happen overnight. I guess I never really realized how much your parents had ruined your self-esteem, and I should have worked harder to help you rebuild it—"

"Don't even go there. You've been the one person in my life besides Kurt to help me see how loved I am. This is not your fault, okay? The only thing you should be taking credit for is helping me get better. You've done everything in the world for me and it's time that I show some gratitude for it by being the person you've always tried to help me be."

"I can help to you know," a third voice said from the doorway. Blaine and Laurel broke apart to see Scotty leaning against the wooden frame. "You've helped me more than anyone, Blaine. Hell, you even opened your home to me for an entire week when I just showed up on your doorstep. It's about time I started to repay you for that."

"You're not indebted to me, Scotty. I help you because I want to."

"See? That right there. Not everyone would do that. Not everyone would talk on the phone to a completely random kid to help him after he'd been bullied at school. Not everyone would stay in contact with that kid and make sure he felt loved and wanted in this world every day, or let him share their room and their bed and their house for a week without any sort of warning. You're a good person, Blaine. And I'm going to work just as hard as Laurel and Kurt to help you see that."

Blaine smiled and opened his arms wordlessly, allowing Scotty to step into them and give him a hug.

He realized that the reason he was always going through such hard shit was because the universe was trying to teach him how to connect with other people. Blaine was the type of person who wanted to do everything on his own, but life didn't work that way. You need help to get through things, even small stuff. So to teach Blaine that it was okay to ask for help, the universe put him through the ringer and made his life hell, but placed amazing people in his life to help him through it. Scotty, Laurel, Kurt, Burt, Finn, Carter, Wes, David, Carole. They all made up this huge support system that Blaine had at his disposal but had been too stubborn to use. Now, though, he was going to change that. Just one of the many things he'd be changing about himself by New Years.

But for now, Blaine focused on the holiday at hand: Thanksgiving. And he had a lot to be thankful for.

…

They rang the doorbell then took a step back on the Hudson-Hummel porch, waiting patiently to be let in. After a few seconds, the door was swung open by a flushed Carole.

"Hi! I'm so glad you guys could make it. Come on in!"

The trio crossed the threshold—Laurel first, then Scotty, then Blaine—standing awkwardly in front of the door as Carole closed and locked it behind them.

"Well, don't be shy, make yourselves at home. Blaine, you know where everything is. Scott, I'm Carole, it's lovely to meet you," Carole said, shaking Scotty's hand. She turned to Laurel and smiled in surprise. "Oh! Did you make that?"

Laurel looked down at the pan of broccoli, rice, and cheese casserole and pumpkin pie in her hands. "Yes! I figured if you were going to be so nice as to add three extra people to your list of how many to cook for, I'd try to contribute just a little bit."

"Thank you, Laurel. You Andersons have always had impeccable manners."

"Thank you for having us, Carole. We appreciate it."

Carole smiled again then turned her head. "Burt! Boys! The Andersons and Scott are here." She swiveled her head back to them. "Laurel, Scott, why don't you both go sit in the living room? I'm sure you can find some Thanksgiving special on. Blaine, why don't you come help me in the kitchen for a second?"

Blaine was not dumb. He knew an adult's set up for a serious talk when he saw one, but he agreed, taking the food from Carole's arms and carrying it into the kitchen for her. He set it on the counter and then turned to her, offering a smile of his own.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Hummel."

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Blaine. I'm glad to see you haven't let your differences with Kurt affect your relationship with our family."

Just hearing Kurt's name and knowing he'd have to face him in just a few minutes made Blaine's heart hurt. He lowered his gaze to the counter. "It's more than just a few differences. We're not together anymore."

"I know, honey. Goodness, the way Kurt acts, the whole house knows."

Blaine met Carole's eyes. "What do you mean? How does Kurt act?"

"He's just not the same anymore. You've heard about Kurt's high school experiences, how people were always down on him, just making it their mission to make his life awful for him. He put on this bravado, but we all saw right through it. When he slipped on that Cheerios uniform, we just pretended like he was someone else, the same way he did. But then he met you, and that smile wasn't fake anymore. Kurt was glowing just talking about you, and it was so lovely to see him smile a real smile.

"Without you, that smile's gone. He puts on that same brave face he did in high school, but no one's buying it. We've all tried talking to him, and when Burt first heard about your split he almost flew up to New York and shot you, but Kurt just keeps defending you. He insists that it's not your fault, that you had a lot going on and you two just had things that you couldn't work out until your life calmed down a little. He makes it sound like it was just a simple break-up, but you can see it in the way he walks and talks and in his eyes that it wasn't."

Apparently, neither Kurt nor Burt had told Carole the whole story of their break-up. Blaine got the urge to tell her, she was being so sweet to him, but he didn't have time. He heard footsteps on the stairs and knew that Kurt would be down any second.

"I truly am sorry for what I've put your step-son through, Mrs. Hummel. I promise that I'm working on being good enough for him. In the meantime, we both just have to suffer through life without each other until I learn how to be a man worthy of his love."

"You'll get there, Blaine. I can see how much you've changed already just talking to you." She walked towards him and placed a hand on the side of his face, smiling. "And honey, I know that you're on a first name basis with Burt, so why would you think you couldn't call me Carole?"

Blaine smiled and pulled her in for a hug. "Thank you, Carole."

"Is the food almost done?" Finn said, coming into the kitchen.

Carole and Blaine pulled apart, the first rolling her eyes at her son and the second trying to catch his breath at the sight of Kurt in the doorway.

He looked amazing, as always. His outfit had been meticulously picked out, his hair carefully styled, his whole physical image perfectly crafted. But Blaine could see what Carole was talking about; Kurt's shoulders slumped just the slightest bit, and he was leaning against the doorway as if he needed something to hold him up or he'd break down, and the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. More than that, the tell-tale dark circles around Kurt's eyes were worse than Blaine had ever seen them. Not only had Kurt not been sleeping, he'd been having horrid nightmares; it was written all over his face.

"Hi," Blaine breathed.

Kurt's eyelashes fluttered and he focused in on Blaine's face. "Hi."

"How are you doing?" Such a simple question, such a complex meaning.

Kurt shrugged. "Fine. You?"

"Fine."

Even though Blaine had accepted Kurt's vague answer, Kurt was not extending him the same courtesy. He quirked his eyebrow just the tiniest bit. "Really?"

Blaine nodded and offered a smile. "Really. I'm caught up on all of my school work except for college algebra."

"That's good."

"Yeah. And I've been helping Laurel around the house, and hanging out with Scotty, and um…" Blaine glanced over to where Carole and Finn had congregated by some food over in the corner before stepping over to Kurt to lower his voice and say, "I haven't had anything to drink since…That Day. I mean—I've been drinking fluids, I wouldn't be alive if I hadn't, I just meant that I haven't—"

"Blaine," Kurt placed a palm on Blaine's chest to stop his rambling, and that one simple touch lit his body on fire. For so long he'd felt like he was frozen; frozen in time, frozen in his life, frozen in his solitude. That one touch of Kurt's hand to Blaine's heart warmed his whole body and brought him back to life. "I knew what you meant."

He wanted to nod, or smile, or say something, or do something, but with Kurt that close and his hand on his chest and their mouths so close that their breaths were mingling, Blaine could barely even think. All he wanted to do was eliminate that distance between them by connecting their mouths, pressing their bodies together so closely that they could hardly even tell where one ended and the other began.

None of that was an option anymore, though. It would have been, a couple of months ago, but Blaine traded that privilege for alcohol.

"How are you doing?" he finally said. "Really?"

Kurt sighed and refused to meet Blaine's eyes. "I'm doing fine, like I said. I'm not great, but I'm not awful. I've been through hard times before and I'll get through them again."

"That'll be kind of hard with you not being able to sleep."

Finally, Soulmate's blue eyes flickered up to meet his. "Don't."

"Kurt," Blaine whispered, "please, just let me help you."

"I said don't."

"You need me. It wouldn't mean we'd be getting back together. I know we both need time before that can happen, if it happens. But you need to sleep, Kurt. Just let me call you at night. We can talk on the phone before bed like we used to."

"We used to do a lot of things together, Blaine, and you threw those out the window so why should our phone conversations be any different?"

Carole, with her fantastic timing, broke up the argument that was about to take place with a smile and a declaration of, "Time to eat!" Most likely, it was only time to eat because Finn wouldn't stop bugging her about when everything would be ready and she could hear that Kurt and Blaine were about to get in a fight. Whatever the reason, the discussion was dropped, Burt, Laurel, and Scott came into the room, and everyone helped to set the dining room table.

Once the food was all placed along the table and all of the plates and silverware and cups were set, the group sat down to eat—Blaine, Scott, and Laurel on one side, Kurt and Finn on the other side, with Carole and Burt at either end of the table. Kurt's atheism aside, Carole said grace, and they all dug in. Laurel was excellent at keeping the conversation alive with the adults and Finn and Scott entered a conversation about some new video game that was slated to come out in the spring; Kurt and Blaine ate in silence, occasionally glancing up at each other and looking right back down at their plates when they realized they'd been caught by the other.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was Kurt and Blaine's first holiday together since they'd met; it was supposed to be a time for joy and celebration and laughter and love and giving thanks for the fact that fate had brought them together. Instead, it was a time of awkwardness and discomfort and longing and hurt. Blaine knew they weren't ready to be together again, but from what Finn had said, he thought that there might be a time when they could be. Judging from Kurt's reaction to his offer earlier, though, Finn had been very, very wrong.

When Blaine thought the others at the table were consumed enough in their own conversations to pay no attention to him, he leaned forward a little to Kurt across from him and whispered, "I'm working on being better. I'm really trying to be a better person."

Kurt kept his head down but lifted his gaze. "I know you are."

"I haven't gotten drunk in almost a month."

"That's good."

"And I don't hate myself so much anymore. I'm finding things about myself to like."

"Good."

Blaine sighed. He was barely getting anything from Kurt. It was like he was talking to a brick wall. He could see that Kurt was holding something back, but he just refused to say it. "Kurt?"

"Mmhmm?"

"What's wrong?"

Two words. You'd think Blaine had said, "Kill Burt," with the way Kurt reacted. Kurt dropped his silverware hard on his plate and stared at Blaine. "You're seriously asking me that?"

They were no longer whispering, and the fact that Kurt had startled everyone by dropping his silverware and now he was speaking at a louder volume halted all other conversation.

Blaine shifted nervously in his seat. "I mean, I know what happened, I'm just asking—"

"You're asking me what's wrong. What kind of a question is that? A better thing to ask me would be what isn't wrong, because that would require a shorter answer. Blaine, you're sitting here telling me how hard you're trying to love yourself and how you've been sober for a month. And that's great, and I'm proud of you, but do you not hear what's wrong with that sentence? Take aside even just the meaning for a second which is wrong enough in itself and just look at the bigger picture." Kurt paused for a second, like he really wanted Blaine to look at something, before he asked, "What about me?"

"I—" Blaine blinked. He didn't understand what he'd done wrong. He'd been making good on his promise, isn't that what Kurt wanted? That day when he came to Blaine's room to get him out of his depression, he'd been trying to get Blaine to pick himself up and try at school and get his life back together. That's what Blaine was doing. He was reporting his progress to Kurt. Kurt was the one who said he couldn't wait to see the new Blaine; here Blaine was trying to tell him about it and Kurt was angry. What happened?

Kurt laughed darkly and pushed his chair pack, standing up. "You don't even see it." With a start, Blaine realized that Kurt had tears in his eyes.

"Kurt, wait—"

"This isn't just about you!" Kurt shouted, now standing behind the chair and holding onto the chair's back to brace himself. "You're not the only one that has had to go through this break-up, Blaine. What about me? What about how I'm doing?"

Blaine rose from his chair. "I asked how you were doing. I even tried to offer my help for your sleeping—"

"For my sleeping, Blaine? Really?" Kurt wiped at his eyes, now crying in earnest. "I'm angry with you. I am so angry with you right now. You have put me through hell and all you care about is yourself. I was there for you! I was there and I was holding you and loving you and using everything I had to try and help you and it was like you didn't even see me. Every time I had to watch you hurt yourself it hurt me ten times worse and you didn't even care. You were so absorbed in your own emotions you completely ignored mine.

"But you want to come here and talk about talking on the phone every night like we used to? What would we talk about, Blaine? Huh? Which liquor and mixer combination you like the best? What brand of whiskey is your favourite?"

The alcoholism jokes stung, Blaine wasn't going to lie. It was like someone laid out the file of his life and picked the worst aspects of it and was throwing them in his face.

"Then you bring up the possibility of us getting back together? You are not the only one that this relationship concerns, Blaine. I didn't break up with you because you were an alcoholic. I broke up with you because you loved that alcohol more than you loved me. Our relationship isn't just in suspension until you figure out what kind of man you want to be; our relationship is waiting for me to try to forgive you for telling me you loved me and showing me you loved something else more."

Kurt took a deep breath and let his fingers dig into the wood of the chair. He closed his eyes like he was centering himself, and when he opened them, the anger had subsided a bit, replaced by hurt; so much hurt. When he spoke again, it was in a much softer voice. "You broke my heart, Blaine. You want to know what my old nightmares were like? I'd be in my bed, and my mom would be tucking me in and singing me the lullaby she used to always sing to me, and then all of a sudden she'd start disappearing, and I'd never get to hear the end of the song that always had a way of ending too early.

"You want to know what my new nightmares are like? It's me and you, in our spot, and we're lying there, and everything is calm and happy. For just that split second, my subconscious lets me hold onto that time when we were good. And then the lake turns from water into something darker—alcohol—and you get up and you start walking towards it. And I'm left alone, so I sit up, and I try to call you back to me, but you keep going until you're in the lake and then you're drowning yourself in it. And I've lost you forever because you would rather drown yourself in alcohol than be with me."

Now Blaine is crying, and his heart is hurting worse than it ever has before, a physical pain so sharp that one hand clutches at his chest and the other drops to the table to prop himself up.

He never meant for any of this to happen. This wasn't part of his plan. That first day when Kurt had come back after their break up, Kurt had made it seem like when Blaine was better they could be back together. Yet now here Kurt was, yelling at Blaine, telling him how terribly he hurt him and how he can't sleep and how his nightmares are now about Blaine.

It was too much. Blaine's head was spinning. He was praying to a god he wasn't sure he believed in that he wouldn't get a panic attack right now because he didn't think he could handle that on top of everything else.

But his eyes never left Kurt's. He kept trying to speak, but he was having trouble breathing. "I—I'm so sorry, Kurt. There's nothing else I can say. I'm sorry. I—" He ducked his head and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the inhale and exhale that comes to naturally to everyone else but somehow felt like an Olympic sport to him now.

He heard a chair scrap beside him and a hand on his back, Laurel speaking into his ear, "Breathe, Blaine. Just breathe."

Didn't she understand that he was trying?

His heart had broken and the pieces had punctured his lungs and now he couldn't get air to stay in properly.

Blaine vaguely registered other people moving—Scott going to stand out of the way, Carole going to get Blaine a glass of water, Burt going to stand on Blaine's other side, Finn going to stand with Scott—but none of it really mattered. Everyone else was able to move, able to breathe, and Blaine could barely even manage that.

Then, he was being pulled away by a familiar hand. He felt hands on his face, bringing his eyes to meet the blue ones he'd looked into so many times he could swear he had all of the flecks of miscellaneous colours and their exact locations memorized by now.

"Blaine, it's going to be okay. Just open your mouth and take a deep breath in, hold it for a few seconds, and slowly blow it out like you're blowing out the candles on your birthday cake. Okay?"

He nodded because that seemed like the polite thing to do—especially since the boy who had been yelling him only moments before was now trying to help him. He willed his body to repair all of the breaks in his lungs so that they could hold air like they were supposed to. Slowly, he felt the necessary fixes being made, and he could take in air again. He opened his mouth and swallowed the oxygen, held it for a few seconds, and blew out as instructed.

"Good. That's really good."

Finally, the edges of his vision became less blurred, and his breathing grew regular again, and he was able to focus on the fact that Kurt was standing in front of him, holding his face in his hands.

"Hi," Blaine breathed, much the same as he had when he first saw Kurt not even a full hour earlier.

Kurt dropped his hands from Blaine's face, but after a moment's thought, brought one up and hit Blaine on the chest; it wasn't a hard hit, but it wasn't a soft pat either. It got Kurt's point across. "Asshole. You're not allowed to get a panic attack and make me worry about you when I'm angry with you and yelling at you."

"Just add that to the list of things I'm sorry that I've done to you."

Burt stepped over to them and pushed them apart, giving both of them a stern look. "I think you've said all you had to say, Kurt. Why don't you take a break?"

Kurt took in a deep breath then let it out with a nod. "Yeah. Okay. I was done eating anyway." He turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks. With is back still turned, he added, "If Blaine needs me again I'll be in my room."

"You've had enough of each other for one day. Laurel is going to take Blaine home so he can rest and think about what you said." Burt looked to Laurel who was standing with Carole for confirmation; she nodded, mouth in a taught line and eyebrows furrowed.

So Kurt went to his room, and after a few awkward goodbyes, Blaine was on his way home, the car silent on the drive there.

As they drove home, Blaine mentally hit himself in the head. Not in a self-deprecating way where all he could see were his faults, but in a healthy way where he accepted responsibility for his actions and the way they affected others, yet determined to fix them. If possible, he was even more set in his resolution to be better. He had to figure out a way to make it up to Kurt. He'd done the work on himself; well, it was going to take a lot more time and work on himself to fix all of his own issues, but that would be a long process that would take years. For now, he had to figure out how to show Kurt that things would be different from now on; that he would be different from now on. That he would care for Kurt and love Kurt and pay more attention to the way Kurt felt and not just focus on his own feelings.

Why was it that Blaine could never just have a normal dinner at the Hummel-Hudson house? It felt like every time he was there the night ended in disaster and someone breaking down and someone having a panic attack.

Not anymore. Come New Years, that would change. Everything would change.

It had to. For Kurt.