Blaine's head shot up as soon as Kurt opened the door with his luggage, and he made to get up and help him.

"Sit!" Kurt ordered him, smiling lovingly. "Carole, do you have any of that ointment left from when Finn cut his hand trying to peel potatoes that time?"

"Ooh!" Carole exclaimed, "You know, I think I do! Have a look under the sink in the bathroom, honey!" she called to Kurt as she began to unpeel the tissues from Blaine's fist.

"That's right, officer," Burt was muttering, but Blaine could still hear him. "Well, we would like to be his carers or temporary guardians, whatever needs to be put in place. I'm not sending him back to those people." There was a long pause as Burt nodded to whatever he was being told.

Carole was bathing Blaine's hand in an antiseptic solution now, and he winced a bit at the stinging sensation.

"Oh, Blaine, honey, I'm sorry. I should have warned you!" Carole apologised and placed a kiss to Blaine's forehead, above his ice-packed cheek. Blaine's throat felt dry and swollen, and he was struggling to breathe. He couldn't lose it here. Not in front of Kurt's family. They probably already thought he was a wimpy fag of a kid who couldn't even stand up to his own father. They were being so nice, and so understanding though. It was hard for Blaine to merely walk into his boyfriends house and be overwhelmed with the amount of love and caring that Kurt had available to him every second of every day. He couldn't remember his mum ever sitting here with an icepack and antiseptic like Carole was doing. Not once in all the times he'd come home with bruises. And his dad had certainly never been on the phone in an indignant outrage to the police when he had been beaten up by James.

"…dating my son, yes. There's no need to use that incredulous tone young man! My son's boyfriend was physically abused by his father, and I am asking you what I need to put in place for him to stay with us legally, until he turns eighteen!" Burt rolled his eyes, and then listened to a question from the officer.

"Blaine, when do you turn eighteen, son?" Burt smiled at him reassuringly.

Blaine tried to talk but he was choked up. His throat hurt as he tried to clear it. "November next year," he said, his voice cracking, "Really, I don't want to be a burden to you, I'm sure I can find somewhere…"

"Oh, shut up, Blaine!" Kurt smiled, waltzing back into the room with a tube of ointment. "It was next to Finn's bed, Carole."

"About a week, officially, but it seems quite serious and they've been friends… Oh, I see." Burt looked worried now. "Yes, that makes sense, but honestly, I don't think that will be a big factor in this case, and even if that should happen, we would still like to take care of Blaine," Burt lowered his voice and glanced at Blaine and Kurt, who had both looked at him as he was talking. "I might just take this upstairs," he said quietly, covering the mouthpiece, "Carole?" and Burt motioned for his wife to follow him.

"Here, Kurt, honey?" Carole handed him the icepack and left the room.

Kurt looked at Blaine worriedly but managed to throw a reassuring smile on his face before his boyfriend turned to look at him.

"Can you feel any glass in your fist?" Kurt asked, trying to distract himself and Blaine from the conversation his father was having upstairs.

Blaine knew what Kurt was doing, but he decided to humour him. "I don't know. Maybe," he said honestly, "It mainly just stings everywhere."

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair and kissed him on the nose before getting up and fetching a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit in the kitchen and returning to the living room with them. He lifted Blaine's hand gently from the water and dried it softly with a piece of paper towel.

"I'm going to press down a bit okay, baby? Just to see if there's any glass in there?"

Blaine stared at him.

"What? What's wrong?" Kurt asked, a little panicky, and his hands were suddenly clutching the back of Blaine's hair.

Blaine smiled a little.

"You just called me "baby"."

Kurt looked worried, "I'm sorry… Do you hate that? It just slipped out… I don't even know why I said it, actually. I'm really not the "baby" kind of guy."

Blaine was quick to reassure him.

"I loved it actually. I've never had anyone to call 'baby' or to call me 'baby', and I've always been like you, thinking it sounds stupid, but I really loved it. You're the only person who gets to call me that, and that makes me love it," Blaine almost grinned but remembered his bruised cheek just in time.

Kurt smiled at him and kissed the injured hand he was holding in his own.

"Love you," he smiled at Blaine.

Kurt didn't like to admit it, but it scared him a little how quickly and easily the endearment had fallen from his lips. "Honey" was a generic endearment. It could apply to anyone from Carole, to Mercedes, to Rachel, to Blaine. "Baby" carried a serious weight, and although Kurt knew that their relationship was certainly serious, it surprised him how quickly it had become so, and how unthinkingly he had called Blaine 'baby' for the first time in their lives together. He made a promise to himself that he would make a conscious decision to call Blaine 'baby' the next time he felt like it. He felt strange knowing that his vocabulary could portray his feelings without conscious thought.

He turned his focus to Blaine's hand and within seconds of pressing lightly on his index knuckle, Blaine gave a pained gasp and cried out.

"Oh, baby! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Kurt pulled Blaine towards him and smothered him with kisses. A kiss for every 'sorry'. Blaine kind of wished Kurt would apologise forever. Kurt realised what he had just said. Two seconds. His promise to decide to use that word had lasted two whole seconds, and there it was slipping from his lips without thought.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine kissed Kurt on the nose the way he had done to Blaine a few minutes before, and smiled at him.

Kurt decided not to worry. He loved Blaine, and Blaine loved him, and Blaine was right. They were the only ones who could call the other one that name, why not embrace it and use it? Kurt didn't know why he felt so uncomfortable with the word. He thought for a second in a Dirty Dancing induced recollection, that it might be from a feeling of feminism, then he realised that he was not a female and neither was Blaine, so the feminist arguments were worthless here. He liked that Blaine liked the endearment, and really, that's all that mattered anyway.

Kurt was just fishing out the last sliver of glass from Blaine's fist and was replacing his hand in the antiseptic, when Burt and Carole came down the stairs looking grave and concerned.

Kurt and Blaine smiled at them when they walked in, but the boys faces quickly fell as they noticed that Burt and Carole looked upset.

"Dad?" Kurt asked, "What happened? What did they say?"

Burt and Carole sat down on the two seater lounge and looked at each other grimly.

"Blaine can't stay with us, Kurt."