Sunday dawned brighter than the previous day, but it was Cooper's knock on the door that woke Blaine first thing. He nuzzled into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. He always slept on his stomach, one arms beneath the pillow and occasionally a knee hitched up beside him. this morning was no exception as he grunted and pushed himself onto his elbows to squint at the door. "whaizit?"

"Morning Blainers. Erm, I gotta head out of town for a few hours. You gonna be okay until tonight?" Blaine grunted again and fell back onto his pillow. "sweet, man, I'll catch you later" he listened to Cooper skip down the stairs and waited until the door slammed shut before pushing himself up into a sitting position again and rubbing his eyes. His skin was dry and rough from the crying he had done earlier that morning; lids stiff and slow to open. After a moment of sitting there staring at the floor Blaine slid his legs off the edge of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, only to fall back down onto the bed. He groaned, making it on the second attempt. The bathroom was his first port of call, the steam and hot water relaxing his limbs. How he could be this tense about ten minutes after waking up was anybody's guess. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before making his way downstairs for breakfast.

At the thought of pancakes his stomach grumbled. Blaine shushed it with a rub and then headed straight for the cupboard he knew encased everything he needed. He glanced at the clock while whisking the ingredients, frowning at how late he had stayed in bed. Then he reminded himself that he had been up at five am sobbing his heart out and then BAM. The thoughts hit him like a tonne of bricks. He paused in his whisking, shoulders slumped in resignation. He left the batter half made on the work top and moved towards the living room, grabbing the phone off the side table as he went. His fingers shook slightly as he dialled the all familiar number. It rang. And rang. And rang. He hung up and called again. Still no answer. After a second standing against the wall with his eyes clothes he chucked the phone onto the couch and bounded upstairs to get dressed. His hair was still damp and hanging around his face loosely. He didn't even bother styling it as usual in his hurry to get out of the house. His fingers found a dark blue pullover and dark wash jeans, not his usual style but it would do for what he needed. His feet found a pair of tattered converse poking out from underneath the bed and as soon as they were fit snugly inside, Blaine was off down the stairs again. His bike was propped up just inside the garage and he had no trouble manoeuvring it out and then he was peddling as hard as his legs would manage, trying his hardest to dispel the heaviness that seemed to have landed unexpectedly on his chest.

He rode. And rode. And rode. He rode until his breath was coming out in audible gasps and his legs had been working on anaerobic respiration long enough that he knew the moment he stepped off, he'd be knee down in the dirt. With this in mind he took a glance around, recognising the houses around him in confusion. He'd literally managed to cycle all the way out of town. He made a left, picturing the park he and Cooper used to visit when they were kids. After a minute of being back in reality his limbs began to lag and he found himself drooping as his legs began to slow and arms began to shake. After a hundred more metres the bike began to wobble and he managed to get his leg over just in time to save himself the embarrassment of falling sideways onto the concrete. He balanced himself and staggered over to the grass. Blaine dropped the bike outside the small gate and pushed himself inside, eyes not leaving the floor in front of him. He fell down onto a swing, thankful that the place was empty or he may be facing an interrogation from a six year old as to why he was shaking like an addict in withdrawal and breathing like his lungs would never feel oxygen again. Heat rolled off him in waves as he realized with a sinking heart, the humidity could only point to one thing. A few moments later, a flash and delayed roll of thunder crashed across his senses, confirming his suspicion. He groaned, running a hand through his hair and looking skyward as the first drops of rain began to fall. They fell heavily, and hard, soaking him in a matter of seconds. He didn't care, he let himself be drenched, hands draped loosely around the chains supporting him. He rocked back and forth lightly, basking in the numb feeling the rain brought. He'd come for a distraction right?

Blaine found himself counting. He counted the seconds between lightning and thunder; he counted the drops of rain to hit the toe of his shoe. He counted the flowers beginning to wilt on the grass ahead of him. He looked up and counted the houses surrounding the tiny park. After a time, he'd lost count of how many things he had counted, but the rain began to let up, just as his chest began to relax. He sighed as the sun peeked through the now much brighter looking clouds. He felt lighter than he had when he had left the house although the prospect of having to cycle who knows how far back home wasn't one he welcomed.

He stood, wobbling slightly as the ache began to set in. Maybe he would walk home. It wasn't midday yet, and it would hopefully only take him an hour at most. Or at least that was what he thought until he heard a loud, high laugh and froze in his tracks. He knew that laugh, he would know it anywhere. If he was buried in the depths of hell, that laugh would still bring knots to his stomach. Awr crap. He chanced a glance behind him to see the gaggle of teens meandering over, laughing and joking, luckily so far unaware of the presence they were heading towards.

He flicked his head from side to side; worry creeping slowly into his chest like a cold fog. He could no way try to escape on his bike; he'd go a few metres and fall right off, seeing as how his as of yet un-fuelled and weary body was acting now. He spotted a bench just outside the fence and made towards that, hoping the group would enter by the other gate and not notice him. Blaine slumped down gratefully, tuning into the approaching conversation. He could pick out at least three voices from the group, one that rang a bell, another that made him bite his lip in guilt and another that well…he didn't want to say what that voice did to him. They got close enough that Blaine could hear their footsteps and pick out a couple more voices before he heard the whine of a gate as it was pushed open and the shriek of the round about as it was pushed forcefully. Obviously this place wasn't often used. It seemed like a nice enough neighbourhood but telling by the cars parked in the driveways, this was the kind of place that kept kids under guard by nannies and tutors. A lot like Blaine's childhood really.

He sunk slightly in his seat, ears no longer straining to hear the chatter now being projected freely across the place.

"Oh hey, Puck; remember when you tried to get that thing over the bar?" the guy speaking was evidently holding back a laugh.

"One of my less…graceful moment's. You'll forgive my eight year old self. Mini Puck didn't have as much pazzaz as he does now"

"Oh please" came another voice, a girl. The roundabout shrieked again. Then came multiple shouts, a thump and a roar of laughter.

"Honest to god you guys are so immature" Blaine froze. His heart picked up double time, eyes widening as the immaculate voice continued. "One day, one of you will end up in hospital and then who'll be sorry. C'mere Sam" the sound of scuffling followed.

"Thanks man" a new voice, softer, not local. Blaine took a breath, found his mouth dry, choked on nothing and had to cough loudly to clear his throat. The group behind him fell silent. Shit. He didn't move, just sat there tensed as if to run, waiting for someone to say something, there was whispering and then, unluckily for him, a voice he did not want speaking to him at this moment in time came drifting over. A lot closer than he thought.

"Hey!" Blaine swallowed nervously; face already reddening as he turned in his seat.

"Kurt" his voice game out rough and wavering. God he looked like an absolute idiot. And his clothes. Oh god his clothes. Kurt's face fell in confusion for a moment and then lit up in a way that made Blaine's heart soar.

"Blaine!" he called, walking over to the fence and resting his hands on it. Blaine looked up at him, smiling faintly.

"Hey. What…what're you doing here?" he looked past Kurt to the rest of the Glee club who were staring curiously over. His eyes set finally upon Rachel who was glaring over with icy intent apparent in her stance.

"Mercedes lives a couple of streets away. We were down for our usual beginning of the year movie marathon. Then it began to rain and everyone wanted to come out into that post storm freshness" he rolled up onto his toes for a moment. "What about you? You here alone?" he asked, peering around.

"err yeah, my brother's out of town so I thought I'd have a run out on my bike." He motioned to the object in question laying dismally on its side a few metres away. He instantly regretted pointing it out. It was a wreck, rust peeling the pain away in areas. Faded and broken, just like him.

"Oh" Kurt looked over at the bike, before biting his lip and turning back to him. "Well we were gonna head out to breadsticks. It's an Italian place in Lima." He said in way of an explanation. "Fancy coming along?" he smiled hopefully but inside, Blaine felt like every organ in his body had sunk to the ground. Maybe if it had been just Kurt, maybe if he wouldn't have had to sit with half a dozen other people and actually try to make conversation he would have said yes. As it was…

He sighed. "Actually…I'd better be headed back. I…I'm sorry" he pushed himself to his feet and avoided Kurt's gaze. He did not need guilt right now.

"O...oh. Okay. No worries" his voice sounded damper and had Blaine groaning internally. Why couldn't he just be social for once? Stupid anxiety. He peeked up at Kurt through his hair, hoping to find him looking else where. Of course, no such luck. He met his piercing blue eyes with a look full of guilt. Attempted a smile. Failed. "But I'll see you tomorrow right?" his heart lifted slightly at the thought. Kurt sighed and nodded.

"Of course" he smiled, sending Blaine's heart hammering again. He pushed his hair out of his eyes as he made his way over to his bike, followed behind the fence by Kurt. He kicked his leg over the seat, flicking his hair out of his eyes again. This wasn't working.

"Hold on" he raised his hands dragged his hair back from his face and tied the top half up with a thin hair band he kept around his wrist at all times. It always came in handy at time like this. He looked back at Kurt who was looking thoroughly dumbstruck, mouth hanging open. Blaine's eyes widened and he touched his face self consciously. "What? Is there something on my face?" Kurt blinked a couple of times before shaking his head vigorously and closing his mouth.

"Err no, no not at all. I just…." He seemed as confused as Blaine was at his apparent loss of words. Blaine rubbed the back of his neck as a flush began to creep its way up towards his face.

"Well I err…better be going. I'll…see you tomorrow?" he placed his hands on the handle bars and made to push off. Kurt nodded and smiled faintly.

"Yeah, sure yeah" Blaine turned away and pushed off, trying not to fall off as pain encroached on his body with the strain from his journey to the park. He was about to turn a corner when a yell came from behind him.

"Blaine!"

He stopped and propped himself up on one leg looking back to see Kurt half out of the gate, clutching the metal bars tightly. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, during which Blaine held his breath. "I like your hair like that. You should wear it without gel more often!" that was it. He had no hope. He grinned, and raised a hand in farewell before pushing off again and trying even harder not to topple.

His legs were shaking, but this time not from the strain. He took a stuttered breath. Like the freshness following a storm. That was what Kurt Hummel was like.

Kurt stared after Blaine as he skirted round the corner and out of sight. He turned back to his friends, head drooped slightly as he bit his lip bashfully. What had made him say that he had no idea, but it was true. The way his hair fell across his eyes and bounced as he walked…Kurt found it hard trying to distinguish whether it was sexy or just god damned adorable. Either way he had no regret. Maybe he'd be spying a loose haired Blaine tomorrow morning. He made a side note to prepare himself, just so he didn't stand there staring at it in open awe like he had a few moments before. He couldn't help it, he'd just reached up and started scraping it back from his face, biceps flexing as he pulled and twisted at the band. He'd made a fool of himself, and he didn't want that happening again. Apparently Blaine seemed to balk under Kurt's scrutiny and he wanted to make him as comfortable as possibly. He wasn't blind; he could see that Blaine was always on edge. Maybe he could help that.

He looked up as he neared the group, stopping in his tracks at the look of shock and amusement on the faces of his school friends. A few people sniggered but Santana spoke first.

"Well, well, well Hummel." She smirked "what a lovely crush you have there" Kurt flushed instantly, looking back at the ground and fiddling with his fingers.

"I do not" he muttered "he's just a…friend, is all" most laughed at that but Rachel spoke up in a cold tone

"Well I don't think Kurt should be making friends with people who blatantly insult his classmates" he rolled his eyes.

"Oh get over yourself Rachel, you needed telling and Blaine was just doing what none of us have the nerve to do" he shrugged and went to walk past, stopping at the further gate and turning back to the see the group staring in awe after him "what? Are you guys coming or not?" Mercedes and Tina exchanged a glance and then made their way over, soon followed by the rest of the group, leaving Rachel stood there looking absolutely stunned. Kurt sighed again and began to skip across the grass, relishing in this new found confidence.

Today was a good day.

Blaine made it two streets before he had to stagger off his bike and flop down onto the sidewalk. After a moment of staring thoughtfully at the ground remembering Kurt's words he turned a grin into the crook of his elbow. "I like your hair like that." Kurt had actually said that. Those words had actually left his mouth. Blaine smothered a giggle and sucked his lips into this mouth. Trust this near enough stranger to turn a shit day into a marvellous one. He sat for a moment, picturing the way Kurt's eyes had shined as he smiled, the skin by his eyes crinkling adorably. He was quite possibly the cutest thing Blaine had ever set eyes on. And totally out of his league.

After that thought crossed his mind his mood plummeted, taking the smile and light airy feeling he had adopted and chucking them clean out of the window. He pushed himself up, dragging his feet as he grabbed his bike and began to walk it in the direction he had initially come. He tried to summon back the feeling of elation that had fuelled his legs after Kurt's compliment but to no avail. All that was left in its place was that sense of a tonne of lead pressing down on his shoulders. Well it had started off a bad day and god help him if the world wasn't going to make it stay that way. He sighed, eyelids drooping with weariness. He just wanted to get home and get out of clothes that still clung to him with moisture.

It took him little over two hours to reach home, not stopping once. He pushed his way into the house, not bothering to move his bike which he'd left abandoned on the front lawn. "Coop?" no answer. He sighed, dropping his keys in the bowl near the door and jogging up the stairs two at a time. His room was dark as he entered, light failing miserably to penetrate the curtains he'd left pulled over the windows this morning. He yanked the sweater over his head and chucked it towards the hamper before slipping out of his jeans and falling onto his bed on just his boxers. He lay there for a full ten minutes, just staring at the ceiling as his mind went blank.

It was days like this that frustrated him, days that started off terribly but then under unforeseen circumstances picked up. They gave him hope – hope that things were looking up. However, the rug would be pulled from under his feet and a few hours later he'd be back in that dark place again. That was why he had initially found it so hard to actually place a name on what was wrong with him. He was satisfied right? He a lot of things others didn't have; a nice house, a lot of freedom, good friends…it didn't seem like there was anything in the world that would make him feel like this.

But that was just it.

He didn't feel. Yes he had all of these things, but when he was laughing among friends, he wasn't truly enjoying himself. He would try to recall a joke he had laughed at and find that when he had, it had been the group laughing around him that had prompted his reaction. He hadn't found it funny, he hadn't carried on joking like the rest of them. He would just sit there and just…well…be. And if nothing else, that scared him. The fact that he felt no motivation any more was what first began to worry him. His entire life he had found something interesting in anything he had to do. It was the only thing that got him into Italian at first. He had been sceptical, but as soon as he listened in on his first conversation, discovering the beauty in the way it was spoken and expressed…it gave him a reason to use it. It was a language to woo.

He would have stayed there for another ten minutes most likely but the sound of the door clicking open alerted him of his brother's return. He blinked a couple of times, turning his head towards his slightly open door with a blank expression. His mind was telling him that he should get up and go say hi but his body refused to cooperate. Instead he turned his head back to the ceiling and resumed his numbness.

It was going to be a long night.