Blaine sighed as he packed the last of his vests.

He didn't particularly want to leave tomorrow, but Kurt hadn't texted.

He'd overstayed his welcome, and it was time to go back home.

At least his time back in Lima had awarded him with several new songs. It hadn't all been a giant waste of time. And he got to be happy for a little while. That was worth it too – right?

He was lost in thought when banging on the door interrupted him.

Not just knocking.

Banging.

Concerned, he hurried to the door, pulling it open. What if Kurt was in trouble?

He peered out and was immediately met with a fist.

It caught him off-guard and Blaine stumbled back with a cry of alarm, his hand already pressed to his smarting face.

David Karofsky. The man had almost doubled in muscle since Blaine last saw him.

"You little fag." He spat. "You think it's okay to fuck my husband?"

Blaine's blood ran cold, his stomach dropped.

"Dave, please…let me-"

A fist to his stomach winded him, and he bent over in a heap, gasping for air.

"Shut the fuck up." David growled.

He pushed Blaine so hard he fell back, crying out in pain as Karofsky sent a few solid kicks to his ribs.

"I hope." He growled, delivering a kick to his hip. "This teaches you." Four kicks to his chest. "Some decency."

Blaine felt everything – every bruise inflicted as he tried to get up. What he was going to do when he got up, he didn't know. He just knew upright was better than down.

Karofsky pushed him again and he fell back against the pot plants. Half of them broke, shattering against the wood.

"Did he feel good?" Karofsky growled, punching him in the face. "Did you feel good, knowing you had that power over him?"

Blaine winced, going still. It hurt too much to move - he barely felt the blows anymore, his shrieking cries now only little whimpers.

"Blaine…you o-oh my god! Judy, call the cops! Joe, c'mere!"

The next few minutes passed in a blur. The numbing fists seemed to stop – but there was yelling and grunting and swearing. A wail of sirens started up, and Blaine closed his eyes as something cold was pressed to his face. Someone was talking to him…

"K-Kurt…" he managed to groan.

"That little bitch got all that was coming to him! He deserved it!" he heard David yell, and he opened his eyes.

The large man was being handcuffed, struggling against the officers.

"What…what did you do to him?" Blaine asked, horrified.

Karofsky didn't answer – the officers were dragging him away and he was swearing at them.

"Blaine, sweetie, we have to take you to the hospital now." Judy – the one who put the cloth on his face – said softly.

Blaine pulled away from her – the only thing he could think about was Kurt.

"Kurt…" he reached blindly for his phone, finding it and pressing Kurt's number.

His whole body ached – he rolled onto his back with a groan – the phone barely at his ear as he waited.

It rung out.

Fear rose in his chest and he struggled to sit up.

"We have to…find…Kurt… David's…hurt him. He...he's not…answering…"

"Shh…" Judy soothed, handing him a glass of water. He didn't understand when she'd gotten up. "Of course. We have to go now though?"

Blaine nodded, sipping his water gratefully and allowed Joe and Peter to half carry him to the car. Judy continued to gently wipe blood from his face as he told Peter the address.

"Ugh…" Blaine muttered, leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes.

"No honey, don't sleep." Judy said softly, and Blaine moaned in protest.

"So who was that guy?" Joe asked hesitantly, in an attempt to distract Blaine.

"Guy…Kurt's husband…" Blaine murmured. "Abusive…"

"You got that right." Peter said softly. "We're here. Do you want us to go up?"

Blaine nodded. As much as he wanted to check on Kurt, he couldn't move if he tried.

"You guys go." Judy said, and Peter and Joe were gone. "How're you feeling?" she asked, trying to keep him awake.

"Like I just got the…absolute crap…beaten out of me."

Judy chuckled, stroking his hand – quite possibly the only thing that was not throbbing.

The car door opened and Joe appeared.

"How is he?" Blaine asked.

"Not good." He mumbled, his face pale. "Ambulance is on its way."

Blaine's eyes widened. "What happened?"

Joe shook his head. "We don't know if it was that guy or if he fell, but he's hit his head. He's bleeding pretty badly…but he's alive."

"Is he awake?" Blaine asked softly, but Joe shook his head.

Blaine collapsed against his chair.

"Fuck."

^.^

Blaine couldn't see Kurt's body being wheeling into the ambulance. He just knew it happened.

Blaine was only half-conscious at that point, and he barely heard Judy call the paramedics over. Before he knew what was happening, he was being hauled into the ambulance.

Next to Kurt.

His eyes fell on him – there was a paramedic working, strapping him to machines. He looked fine – peaceful and sleeping, if it weren't for the giant cloth beneath his head, dripping with scarlet blood.

"I-is he going to be okay?" Blaine asked, paling and feeling sick.

"Not sure yet buddy." The paramedic told him, turning around to glance at Blaine. At the sight of his face, his eyes widened. "Lie down for me, okay? Keep talking though. What's your name?"

Blaine complied, relaxing as much as he could with every part of him screaming at him. 'Blaine Anderson…"

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Alright…do you know this man?"

Blaine nodded.

"His name and age?"

"Kurt Hummel…twenty-seven."

"Alright. Can you tell me what happened to you both?"

Blaine groaned as his temple started throbbing, only just noticing that the paramedic had stopped concentrating on Kurt. He'd run a swab over a cut on Blaine's face.

Blaine turned, catching a glimpse of himself in the window and immediately winced.

He looked like shit.

Half his face was swollen, already bruising pretty purples and greens in some places. What wasn't swollen was cut up and bloody – most likely from the pot plants.

"David Karofsky…Kurt's husband…he got jealous." Blaine muttered. "We…Kurt and I….are really close…and he must've…beaten Kurt or something. I was at my apartment…packing…and he stormed in and just…"

He motioned to himself and the paramedic nodded.

"Okay. That's enough questions for now. When we get to the hospital, we'll put you in a room with Kurt. Once you're given the okay, you'll have to give a statement to the police."

Blaine nodded, lying back again.

"Don't go to sleep, okay? We'll be there soon."