Blaine had been in Nathan's room only twice before. Once, when he was nine, to help his brother beat a level on a video game. And the other was last year when Nathan had been 'away', but Blaine had gotten so scared of him finding out. He only spent a half a minute just standing in the middle of the carpet before slowly backing out.

Blaine glanced around at the other kids in Nathan's room. They were at least seventeen, five years older than Blaine. His brother beckoned again, nodding his head in a dazed kind of way. Blaine slowly stepped in, closing the door behind him. He spotted an empty space at the end of his brother's bed and quickly sat in it.

Nathan smiled and reached behind him into a small wooden box. He produced an unmarked medicine bottle with bright purple pills inside. He chuckled and shook it a little, making the pills rattle noisily. The other two guys grinned at the unspoken joke.

Blaine stared curiously at the bottle, wondering when the doctor had prescribed anything for his brother. Nathan turned to grin crookedly at Blaine. He unscrewed the lid and poured two into his hand. He motioned for Blaine to cup his hands and dumped them.

"Nathan..." a boy in the corner spoke hesitantly. He seemed less out of it than the others. He wore a weary expression on his face.

"Ifs fine," Nathan whispered, leaning his head back, "He can handle it."

"He's just a kid..."�

"I said he can handle it," Nathan snapped at the other boy, who sank back into the corner without another word.

"Umm... What are these, Nathan?" Blaine asked , rolling the pills around in his hands.

His brother sat forward and leaned on his knees in front of the younger boy. Blaine could tell he wasn't really there. He could tell that Nathan wasn't really looking at him. It felt like he was a million miles away.

"Blainey," he spoke in a dreamy voice, "You remember when we heard that mom died, two months ago?"

Blaine nodded and held back tears.

"You remember how sad you were? You remember all that pain?"�

Blaine nodded again, sniffing a bit.

"You still feel it?" his brother frowned, "Don't you?"

"Y-yeah?" a tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek.

Nathan wiped it away with his flannel shirt sleeve and cupped Blaine's hands in his, "These will make all of that go away."

Blaine looked nervously at the capsules. He had been taught in school never to take medicine that wasn't from the doctor, but it was from his brother. He could trust his brother, couldn't he?

They had been so close just a few months ago. Before their mother died, before their father went crazy with grief, before Nathan started leaving in the middle of the night and hanging out with his new friends.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked, looking into his brother's face for assurance.

Nathan brought two fingers to his forehead and saluted, "Scouts honor."

Blaine slowly brought the pills to his mouth and dry swallowed them. Nathan simply smiled and sat back on the floor. The boy in the corner eyed Blaine wearily, but kept his mouth shut.

Blaine felt fine. He didn't really feel different, or less sad. Just... Fine. But tired. Really tired. Blaine leaned back on the bed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

"Blaine? Shit, oh god, Blaine? Nathan! Get up!"

"What? Fuck, dude calm down."

"We need to get him to the hospital or something. Man, I told you not to give him those! You know how much shit we'll get in for this?"

"Shut the hell up! I need to think!"

"Blaine? Blaine?"

"Forget it, he needs a doctor."

"I'll drive."

"Fuck, Blaine. I'm so sorry."

---

Blaine jolted forward in a cold sweat. He fumbled around in the dark until he felt the light switch. He flipped it on and his seventeen year old room surrounded him. Blaine sighed heavily, crashing back into the pillows.

He hadn't thought about that night in along time. He mentally kicked himself for doing it. He ran a hand through his hair and attempted to calm down.

A muted beeping noise sounded near his head. He pulled away the blankets and pillows until he found his phone, blinking blue.�

"Shit," Blaine checked the time on his bedside table. Nine thirty seven. He was supposed to pick up Kurt for coffee seven minutes ago.

He opened the text on his phone and rushed into the bathroom.

Is this you standing me up, Mr. Anderson?
-Kurt

"Fuck," Blaine cursed under his breath, he dialed the number he had memorized and waited for the dial tone.

"Blaine..."

Blaine swore he would never get over hearing that voice.�

"Don't hate me, please," Blaine started the shower and jogged to his closet to grab something to wear.

"Depends." Kurt replied.

"I just woke up," Blaine pulled out a dark purple v- neck and a black and grey striped jacket and grinned, "Though technically it's your fault."

"My fault? How so?" Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice.

"Well," Blaine yanked his drawer open and took out a pair of black skinny jeans, "You kept me up half the night with your incessant texting. I'm really the one who should be mad at you."

"Hmm. I guess that means I owe you an apology."

"Actually, I have a better idea. You could make it up to me by pushing out plans back to ten, for personal reasons."

"Ahh. This I can do."

"That is unless," Blaine began pulling his piercings out, "You wouldn't mind my grungy-ness."

"No, no. I think you're right. See you at ten, then?"

"Until then," Blaine heard the other boy giggle as he hung up the phone.

He showered the fastest he could and towel dried his hair. He decided to keep it simple, only putting in black studs and his eyebrow. He threw on his clothes and pulled on his more discrete black vans.

Blaine checked the clock as he applied a think layer of deodorant and a splash of cologne. Nine forty nine.�

"Crap, crap, crap," Blaine pulled his keys and wallet off the nightstand and ran out of the house, ignoring Ashley's remarks as she passed.

He sped most of the way to Kurt's house, only slowing once, when he spotted a cop patrolling radar. It usually took him fifteen minutes, but he made it in nine.

It was nine fifty nine when he pulled into the driveway. Blaine smiled to himself as he jogged up the walkway and rang the bell, praying that Kurt answered.

His heart nearly stopped as the blue eyed boy opened the door, smiling brightly. Blaine realized just how lucky he was in that moment, to have someone so amazing and beautiful as Kurt like him. Him. Blaine. He�didn't believe in God or miracles, but this had to be something like that.

Kurt rushed forward and pulled Blaine into a tight hug, "I've been wanting to do this ever since you drove away last night."

Blaine's stomach knotted, "Me, too."

"Ahem." Someone behind Kurt cleared their throat.

Blaine swallowed the remark he almost spat, realizing that it had been Kurt's dad.

"Alright, well," Kurt pulled back awkwardly, "Bye, dad. We'll be back later."

Burt mumbled something to his son and turned to walk back into the house. Kurt just shook his head and smiled.

"Ready?" Blaine held out his hand.

"Let's go." Kurt took it and grinned.