“I've got your back.”

Kurt followed him up the stairs as he took a deep breath. Blaine, so polite and completely out of place in his pressed uniform, stood in front of Karofsky with a gentle smile.

“Excuse me!”

Karofsky's face was hard and cold as a stone as he looked down at them. His eyes turned darker as they moved from Kurt to Blaine and back. “Hey there, lady boys. Is this your boyfriend, Kurt?”

“Kurt and I wanted to talk to you about something…”

Kurt remembered the nauseous feeling, lips pushing on his, strong hands on his face… he barely missed part of the conversation, as Karofsky got more and more furious with every word Blaine said, and finally took Blaine by the blazer and pressed him against the railing. Blaine's face went a little pale, as he raised his hands in surrender, and Kurt had to do something, couldn't stand watching this wonderful boy – the only person who cared – be pushed around for him.

“Stop this!” He squeaked, as he pulled Karofsky off him. Karofsky mumbled under his breath and walked away.

Once they were alone again, Kurt slumped onto a step, and Blaine had joined him, still supportive and concerned.

“Why are you so upset?”

“Because until yesterday, I'd never been kissed. At least… not one that mattered.”

He could see Blaine sucking his lips into his mouth, thoughtful and sad, so compassionate that it made Kurt want to lean against him, close his eyes and forget.

“Come on,” Blaine said, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. “I'll buy you lunch.”

Kurt stood, followed Blaine down the stairs, blue eyes fixed on the boy's back, and thinking, for the first time, he makes me feel so safe…

*

The Night of Neglect had been… well, a disaster. Kurt sighed sadly. McKinley couldn't recognize talent even if it hit them in the face…

Blaine had been quiet since they had left the school, and Kurt glanced at him, taking his eyes off the road for just a second to check on him. Blaine's hazel eyes were staring vacantly out the window, appearing to be deep in thought.

“I'm sorry,” Kurt blurted out. He was still so nervous about this, about them. Everything still seemed so delicate and new. “This probably was a terrible date idea. You can pick where we go next time and I…”

“No, Kurt,” Blaine turned to him, smiling comfortingly. His hand found Kurt's, warm and soft, and squeezed. “I had a wonderful time. Your friends are amazing. I feel bad that they didn't get the audience they deserved, but hey, it all turned out okay in the end, right?”

“Right,” Kurt nodded. God, he loved how Blaine's hand felt on his. He still couldn't believe he was allowed to hold that hand whenever he wanted now. Would Blaine mind if he never, ever let go…?

They stayed silent for a couple of minutes, before Blaine cleared his throat.

“You, uhm, you really miss McKinley, don't you?” Blaine asked, but it wasn't really a question. He knew. “Dalton isn't your home.”

“I…” Kurt hesitated. Dalton really was great, with its amazing no tolerance policies and polite preppy boys who didn't even look at them twice if they walked down the hallway holding hands. But, McKinley… all his friends were there. His brother was there. The Glee club where he had learnt how to be who he was despite how hard it could be was there. “Yes, I miss it. But I still like Dalton! It's just… different.”

“I know. I know you still struggle, that you still haven't found your place there and I wish… I wish I could help you find it,” Blaine looked sad and Kurt wanted to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was okay. “If there was a way for you to go back, would you?”

Kurt felt guilty. Dalton offered him what no other school in the area could, including a perfect boyfriend. Why would he ever want to give up that to go back to McKinley and be surrounded by bigots and bullies? Still, he couldn't deny that it was where he belonged. “Yes. Yes, I would.” He bit his lip, kept his eyes on the road, before he asked: “Would that… be okay with you?”

Blaine knew what he was asking. Kurt wanted to know if their relationship would survive, even if they couldn't see each other every day. Blaine squeezed his hand again. “Kurt, I'm all for it. I want you to be where you're happiest, but most importantly… I want you to be safe. You need to be safe, Kurt. That's all I care about.”

Kurt was glad to see Blaine's house and he pulled into the driveway a little less carefully than he usually would. Blaine let a little sound of surprise escape through his lips as Kurt pulled him into a deep kiss, but immediately kissed back, just as enthusiastically. And as their lips moved together, Kurt thought, oh, he makes me feel so safe…

*

In retrospect, it had been the stupidest thing they had ever done. A musical duel, really? In a dark parking lot in the middle of the night? Had they actually thought this would solve anything?

It wouldn't have been the first time Kurt received a slushie to the face, and though it wasn't exactly pleasant, feeling the red-colored ice dripping down into his clothes, it wouldn't have been the end of the world. Humiliating, yes, as usual, but not the end of the world.

When he saw Sebastian wrapping his fingers around the cup, he knew he barely had the time to close his eyes and at least avoid that nasty burning sensation that lasted for hours. He began turning his head and getting ready for the slap of coldness, and then noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

The loud, pained scream pierced the night. Everyone stood, frozen and stunned, watching as Blaine fell to the ground, holding his hands to his face. Kurt's breath hitched in his throat and he dropped to his knees.

“Sweetheart…” He murmured, and he was so scared. He put his hand on Blaine's back softly, leaning closer to check on him. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

Blaine couldn't reply; he could only scream and squirm on the floor. Something was terribly wrong. Kurt wasn't a stranger to slushies and though this was Blaine's first, the shock couldn't be enough reason to scream like this.

Someone called an ambulance – Santana, Kurt thought, barely able to hear her voice in the background as he held Blaine in his arms and bit his lips to try to keep the tears and the horror at bay. What had they done to that slushie? What was wrong with Blaine?

It was a very long night. Kurt hadn't been allowed into Blaine's room as the doctors examined him, so he had called his dad, crying desperately into his phone. He alternated between pacing the waiting room a million times and sitting, snuggled against his dad's side, too afraid to keep on moving. It was almost four in the morning when they let him see his boyfriend.

Blaine was half-sitting on the hospital bed, and there was a large bandage around his right eye that enveloped one side of his head. He looked completely worn out, but he managed a tiny smile when he saw Kurt walking into the room.

“Oh, Blaine. Are you okay?” He sat on the chair next to the bed and immediately gathered his boyfriend's hand between his, massaging his palm tenderly.

“Doctor said I'll need surgery,” Blaine slurred, clearly high on painkillers. His fingers twitched, as if trying to hold his boyfriend's hand, but they refused to cooperate.

“You're so silly. You're so silly, Blaine,” Kurt sobbed. “Why did you do that? Why did you have to jump in front of me?”

“You need to be safe,” Blaine smiled sleepily. “Always gonna keep you safe…”

Blaine had fallen asleep immediately after those words, and Kurt had stayed there, holding his hand until the nurses kicked him out, and thought he always makes me feel so safe…

*

The first time they made love with more than their mouths, their hands, and their bodies rutting together until release washed over them, Kurt had been terrified. He couldn't deny it. He had been fantasizing about this moment for weeks now, but as Blaine kneeled between his legs and licked his lips, he couldn't help the way his hands were shaking.

“We don't have to do this, if you don't want to,” Blaine said soothingly. Kurt's eyes traveled down his boyfriend's body, to where he was hard and eager to please. Kurt had never thought he could be hungry for someone, but god, Blaine made him feel like he was starving.

“I want to. I really do, I just…” Kurt tried to smile, to shrug his nerves away. “I'm a little scared.”

“Don't be,” Blaine leaned over him, until he could press his lips to Kurt, sweet and swollen after the time they had spent making out half naked on his bed. “I'll stop whenever you want me to. I'll give you all the time you want. I'll always keep you safe.”

Those words made Kurt relax – his body was suddenly loose and liquid, and his skin didn't feel as tight. There was throbbing want beating all through him, filling him with the kind of desire he had never experienced before. He loved this boy – this man – with all his heart, with all his soul.

After a little fumbling, a few awkward chuckles and the shock of Blaine pushing in for the first time, Kurt breathed in and out quietly, adjusting to having his boyfriend buried all the way in and pulsing deep within him. They had never done anything this intimate, no matter how many times they had gotten off together. This was a whole new level of intimacy, and Kurt treasured the first couple of minutes, because even though he was overwhelmed, he knew he'd always want to remember this. Like this, in Blaine's arms and as connected as two people could possibly be, Kurt thought, he makes me feel so safe…

*

Kurt stared up at the ceiling, silent and still completely shaken from what had happened with Blaine. Memories from when they were together back in high school seemed to choke him as he lied there, trying to make sense of things. How had the only boy who had made him feel safe, become the man capable of scaring the shit out of him while pushing him against a wall and threatening him?

It was painful, realizing that the happy memories he had managed to save after the break up were crumbling before his eyes now, so many years later. It was hard accepting that his boy, his wonderful Blaine, the one that had made him reach the stars, was gone and wouldn't come back. The man that stood in his place wasn't even a shadow of the Blaine Kurt had known and loved so deeply. He was a stranger and Kurt couldn't even recognize the same hazel eyes. Everything had changed.

Do not fucking touch me, Hummel, if you know what's good for you.

Kurt closed his eyes, shifted to lie on his side and hugged his pillow to his chest, burying his face in it and not allowing himself to cry. He had already cried over Blaine far too much for one lifetime.

More than ever, Kurt wanted to be back in New York. He wanted the hectic city to erase his worries, to ease his mind, to distract him. He wanted to forget this side of the world existed, this city on the opposite side of the country, full of sunshine and optimism, where he'd found only disappointment and sadness. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to put Blaine behind him again – what a cruel universe, forcing them back together like this, re-opening wounds that had stopped bleeding long ago and that would leave new scars.

But how could he go back to New York? Just thinking of facing Blaine again made him sick, but he knew going back without those papers signed was simply not possible. He had a life waiting for him in New York that was currently on stand-by. He needed to get divorced to get its wheels rolling again.

Kurt let out a shuddery breath. He just hoped that the ghosts that were joining him during this trip would stay in Los Angeles once he was finally able to leave. He didn't need them following him.

Blaine had been part of his past for a very long time now, and that's exactly where Kurt needed him to stay.

*

Kurt couldn't make himself go back to Blaine's apartment the following day. He told himself he was giving Blaine time to cool down and process what he had told him at the bar, but deep down inside, he knew that was bullshit.

He didn't go because he was scared of how Blaine would react when he saw him again.

*

With his fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, Kurt waited. He closed his eyes and inhaled the magnificent scent of his mocha and pretended he wasn't sitting in the hallway, with his back against the wall, but on his comfortable chair at his office, getting his caffeine fix before another long day in the fashion business.

He felt defeated, sad, spent. Even though he hadn't moved from his hotel room the previous day, it hadn't changed the way his body seemed to be completely worn and exhausted. Everything that had happened in the past two weeks – and all the wedding planning – was finally catching up with him. He was ready for all of it to be over. And there was only one way to finish it.

That's why he was waiting, sitting on the floor of Blaine's apartment building and hoping for some kind of miracle, for a flash of kindness, for some unexpected luck.

Kurt finished his coffee and put the cup on the floor next to him to throw away later. There was a notebook with an endless list of wedding things to do in his bag, and he had brought his iPad with him, but he knew he was in no state of mind to focus now. Once this was over, he would be able to put all of his time and effort back into his dream wedding. For now… there was only Blaine.

Unpredictable, explosive Blaine, with the empty eyes and no vestiges of the sweetness that had been so characteristic of him years ago. He was an empty shell now, and Kurt felt bad for him, but there was nothing he could do. If his own brother couldn't help him, then Kurt had no chance at all. Their paths had taken different turns a very long time ago – Kurt couldn't force himself back into Blaine's life and save him.

He rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. He had told himself it would be possible that he would have to stay here the entire day, and it could still be in vain. The time seemed to drag too slowly with nothing to occupy him, but his worries. He thought about calling his dad, but he didn't know what he was going to say to him. Hey Dad, remember the sweet boy you loved like your own son? Well, he isn't sweet anymore, Dad. He scares the living shit out of me. He pushed me, he threatened me. I don't think the Blaine we knew exists anymore. I think that Blaine is dead, Dad…

Even though the sun was shining outside, it was cold inside the building. Kurt opened his bag and rummaged through it, looking for the scarf he usually carried…

The door next to him opened and someone exited the apartment. Kurt looked up, startled, and found Blaine, standing there and looking down back at him. Something was different from the last time he had seen him – he seemed just as tired as Kurt. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled and there was thick stubble on his jaw. Even though Kurt knew he wasn't the dapper Dalton boy anymore, he was shocked at how unkempt he was.

Kurt wasn't sure what to say. Blaine had to know why he was there. He waited, because he knew Blaine would tell him to get the hell away from there, and then maybe Kurt could… could what? Beg? If it came to it, Kurt would beg. He needed that signature. If Blaine wanted to get rid of him, that was the fastest way to achieve it.

But then Blaine, once again, shocked him. He sighed tiredly and asked, in a rough voice, “Are you hungry?”

Kurt blinked up at him, completely baffled, and it took him a few seconds to realize he had to actually answer. “Yes, yes, I could eat…”

He scrambled to his feet while Blaine locked his apartment door, picking up his empty cup to dispose of in the first trash bin he could find, and then they went down the stairs and out to the street, in silence. Kurt took the chance to glance at him – he was wearing old jeans and a black Ramones t-shirt that would've made a lot more sense on someone like Noah Puckerman than on Blaine Anderson.  There were dark marks under his eyes and he really did look tired.

Like that night when they had gone to the bar, Kurt followed Blaine wordlessly, although Blaine's pace was gentler and easier to keep up with this time. Kurt was uncomfortable and wishing he could break the uncomfortable silence between them, but at the same time, he didn't know exactly what to say. Silences between them had never been uncomfortable – they had always been filled with significant glances and sweet smiles. They had been so connected that words weren't necessary most of the time, even before they became boyfriends. They had always been on the same page, and it was weird, fidgeting because of the need to say something – anything.

It seemed that was one more thing to add to the list of things that had been lost forever.

This time Blaine guided him to a small diner, where the air was thick with the smell of greasy food. Blaine slumped into a booth and Kurt took the seat opposite his, looking around and wondering when the health inspector had last come into this place.

Before he had time to find something to say to Blaine to break the ice, a waitress stopped by their table and popped gum loudly, looking down at Blaine.

“Hey, Anderson. You want your usual?” She asked. Blaine nodded without paying much attention to her, and then she turned to Kurt, looking him up and down. “Well, would you look at this. You brought one of your boys? What are you going to have, cupcake?”

Kurt blinked stupidly. One of your boys? What did that mean? How many boys were there? Kurt shook his head – he had seen one guy coming out of Blaine's apartment and then he had witnessed Blaine trying to pick up another the following night. He didn't need the exact number. He knew. “Oh, ah… I'll have the same as him.”

“Alright,” the girl turned on her heels and marched away. Kurt watched her – she had tattoos on every single inch of visible skin and messy black hair. Her eyeliner was a little smudged and she was wearing patent leather shoes that had been out of fashion for at least half a decade.

He cleared his throat and turned back to Blaine, who wasn't looking at him. “So, uhm, what did I order, exactly?”

“Cheeseburger and fries, nothing special,” Blaine shrugged and started playing with a napkin. His shoulders were hunched and he looked as if he hadn't been to bed in a week. “Don't ever order coffee here, though. It's like drinking sewer water.”

Kurt made a face. If that's what they did to coffee, could he trust them with an actual meal? What kind of meat was he about to eat? He tried not to think much about it. He wasn't here to eat, not really.

The waitress was back with their food shortly after, and they still hadn't been able to find a way to start the conversation they obviously needed to have. Blaine seemed incredibly reluctant to talk or even make eye contact, but Kurt was determined to settle this today, once and for all. He couldn't waste any more time.

Blaine devoured his burger voraciously, as if he hadn't eaten in a century. Kurt stared at him from across the table, unable to stop himself from picturing Blaine back in high school, when he used to eat as if he were part of the royal family, even using fork and knife to eat a salad. He had been such a proper boy back then, the ideal boyfriend to introduce to your parents. No wonder Burt had loved him instantly – Blaine had been a real gentleman, a Disney prince reincarnated.

Kurt chewed his food a little slower, a little more delicately. He couldn't drag this out anymore. He needed to do it. Quick, just like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Look, Blaine, I…” He sighed. “I know this is weird. I know it's sudden and very, very awkward, but we really do need to talk.” He took a sip of his soda and cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “I didn't have much time to process this either – I only found out last Thursday, when Alex and I went to get our marriage license. It was… shocking, to say the least, but I'm running on a tight schedule. The wedding's next month – April 24th, to be exact – so there really isn't much time to process, I know. I… well, I just made a few educated guesses, I believe. I'm pretty sure it happened during Mike's bachelor's party, because that's the only time we have seen each other in the last decade. I don't remember much from that weekend – just a lot of booze and way too many boobs for my taste.”

He paused, gave Blaine the chance to say something, but Blaine remained quiet, with his head lowered and his eyes fixed on his food, as if he had never encountered anything as fascinating as a cheeseburger.

“I need to get back to New York. I wish I could give you more time to understand what's going on here, but I need to finish organizing the wedding and I need to go back to my office before heads start rolling…” Kurt massaged his temples. God, just thinking about it stressed him. He couldn't wait until he was married – it meant he was free for two weeks for his honeymoon. Which… they still hadn't finished planning yet either. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, he needed to go back. “I'm sure you'll be relieved to get this over with, too. I mean… I'm not entirely familiar with your current situation, but a surprise husband isn't something ideal, is it? Uhm…” Kurt grabbed the divorce papers from his bag and a pen. He put them on the table. “It's just a signature, and then I'll be out of your hair. I promise, you won't have to see me again.”

He slowly pushed the papers with the pen on top across the table toward Blaine.

He could feel his heart thumping against his chest, as he waited for Blaine to do something. God, this could be over so, so soon. It was just a quick little thing. A little scribble over the papers in the right spot, and everything would be in the past…

Kurt practically cried in relief when Blaine grabbed the pen and glanced over the papers, reading them vaguely. He clicked the pen a few times, the sound of it barely making it to Kurt's ears amidst the noise of the diner, while his other hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles were white. And then, finally, he positioned the pen over the line where he was supposed to sign.

Kurt held his breath. This was it.

Blaine, though, exhaled shakily and looked up at him for the first time since he had come out of his apartment. Kurt was suddenly struck by how expressive his eyes looked – they weren't dull anymore, but filled with conflicting emotions.

“I…” Blaine hesitated. He swallowed with difficulty and tried again. He looked vulnerable and Kurt was taken aback with the sight of him. “I… do you know what date it is today?”

Kurt frowned, confused. What did that have to do with anything? “Uh…”

“It's March 15th,” Blaine replied in a low, almost timid voice. Kurt's eyes widened a bit, but when he showed no other signs of recognition, Blaine said: “T-thirteen years ago, I found you in the common room in Dalton and kissed you for the first time.”

Kurt didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought of that day in so long. The last few times he had thought about Blaine, he had only remembered the heartbreak, the loneliness, the pain. How had he forgotten this day? How did Blaine remember it so clearly?

When Kurt remained silent, Blaine's head jerked back down to stare at the papers, as if ashamed to bring it up, especially when Kurt didn't seem to remember it. His hand shook, and Kurt could visibly see him struggle to just sign them.

And Kurt knew he would hate himself for stepping back when he was so close, but he would've hated himself more for doing this now, when it was so evident Blaine was having trouble with it.

He put his hand over the papers and took the pen out of Blaine's hand. He couldn't ask him to do it. Not like this, not now. Blaine gazed up at him, startled. “I guess I can wait one more day,” Kurt murmured quietly, putting the papers and pen back in his bag. “At this point, it won't make much of a difference.”

Blaine swallowed again, as if trying to get rid of a lump stuck in his throat. “Okay.” He stood up on wobbly legs, a little too abruptly. “I'm going to the bathroom for a moment. I'll be right back.”

“Sure,” Kurt nodded politely, and focused on his French fries. Maybe Blaine had changed a lot in the last decade, but he was still very transparent when he needed a moment to regroup.

Kurt nibbled on his cold fries. He had lost his appetite. God, if Alex found out what he had just done, he would be so upset. He could've gone back to New York tonight…

But no. He couldn't do it. It wouldn't be right. That memory was one of the few things that time and heartbreak hadn't been able to taint. He wouldn't erase it with a divorce.

Blaine came back after a couple more minutes. His eyes were empty and dull again, but he looked smaller, as if he was trying to be invisible, hunched in on himself. He stood by the table and dropped a few dollar bills on it. “I should go.”

“Oh. Yeah, me too,” Kurt stood and grabbed his bag. “Let me pay you back for lunch…”

“No, it's fine,” Blaine started walking toward the exit and Kurt caught up to him.

Kurt needed to go in the same direction, but he couldn't bear any more awkward silences. “So, uh… what have you been up to?”

Blaine shrugged, eyes ahead. “Not much.”

“What do you do?” Kurt asked, desperate to get Blaine to talk.

“Sometimes Johnnie asks me to tend the bar, when it's a busy night and there's a game on,” Blaine explained. “I don't really have a fixed job. I play guitar at a café when they call me, too…”

“Oh, well, that's… nice, I guess. That you still play,” Kurt said, doubtfully. Once upon a time, Blaine had spoken about life so passionately – there wasn't anything he wasn't passionate about; there was too much to experience, to see, to do. Now… that passion was gone. “Uhm. What about… what about college?”

Cooper had told him he had dropped out halfway through senior year, but Kurt needed to know more.

Blaine shrugged again. “I went to UCLA, but I dropped out. There wasn't much point in it, anyway.”

Kurt ached. God, he ached for this boy. When had he lost his drive, his dreams, his enthusiasm? “I see.” Kurt stayed silent. What was he supposed to say or do? “Blaine, I…”

“It's fine,” Blaine interrupted, as if he could guess what Kurt wanted to say and didn't dare. You had such a bright future, so much potential. Why did you give it up? What happened to you? Why did you let it all go? They stopped in front of his building. “Well. I'll see you around, then.”

Kurt nodded, unable to find the words to say everything he was desperate to say and Blaine turned around to walk inside. But then Kurt impulsively put his hand on his arm and stopped him. Blaine froze and then Kurt was tugging him into his arms, forgetting about how much Blaine had scared him the other night, and holding him so tightly the other man could barely breathe. Blaine's arms hung limply at his sides, as he was stunned by Kurt's sudden closeness.

And then, very slowly, his arms moved up and circled Kurt's back, clinging onto him as if his whole life depended on it. His face nested in the crook of Kurt's neck, fitting there exactly the same way as it had fit there so many years ago.  Kurt felt him exhale a shaky breath against his skin.

Blaine didn't let go. It was Kurt who had to step out of the hug, with a little, awkward smile on his lips. Blaine's eyes averted immediately, clearly embarrassed. He wrapped his arms around himself, unsure what to do with them now.

Kurt watched him for just another second. “Take care, Blaine,” he said gently, before turning to walk away.

He didn't look back over his shoulder, but he knew Blaine was still there, watching him go.

*