'Mom?' Blaine asked, eyeing the cake appreciatively. 'Does this cake need chocolate sprinkles?'

He heard warm laughter behind him and a soft voice respond.

'It certainly does, sweetheart,' his mother replied. 'I would have let you put them on the cake, if only I had any with me.'

Blaine turned around. His mother was standing a few feet away, watching him at a distance. She was wearing her familiar polka dot dress under a well-worn grey cardigan and her long brown hair was hung loosely over one shoulder. She seemed a lot smaller in Blaine's eyes since he last saw her.

'Why did you make another cake?' Blaine asked. His eighth birthday had already passed.

His mother smiled sadly. 'It is to celebrate you, honey.'

'But why?' Blaine replied.

His mother stepped forward, grasping her hands. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.

'I am so sorry, Blaine. I never should have lost my temper with your father. You've grown into such a beautiful, sweet young man. I am so proud of you.' Her amber eyes shone softly. 'You are so brave.'

Blaine shook his head. He didn't understand.

'That boy that you gave my beret to: keep him close,' she continued, as a smile began to brighten her features. 'I am glad that you found him. He has helped you more than you know, and I am so thankful for him.'

'Mom?' Blaine said, but his mother held out her hand.

'I'll always keep an eye out for you, Blaine' she said, stretching out her fingers. 'I promise you'll have me watching over you, always.'

Blaine reached out for her palm, but before their fingers could meet, his mother vanished. Suddenly he realized that he wasn't eight anymore, and his mother had passed away. He tumbled forward as he felt the floor underneath him slip away and he was falling, down, down into a grey tunnel-like abyss, and he clenched his eyes as he braced himself for impact.

Instead of falling to the ground, he was caught by something soft yet solid, firm enough to keep him steady - a person. Blaine glanced up; Kurt was looking down at him, smiling softly. Blaine's breath caught when he realized he wasn't in the palm of Kurt's hand; he was in his arms.

Then Kurt was leaning forward and whispering into his ear. But it wasn't Kurt's voice he heard. It was his mother's.

'Wake up, sweetheart.'

Blaine's eyes shot open and he sat up in bed, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest and his forehead slicked with sweat. A quick glance around the bedroom of the dollhouse told him that he had been dreaming. He pressed his hands to his stomach and looked down. He was still the same size.

He sighed and laid back against his pillow. Not wanting to get out of bed, he leaned over and rummaged around in his suitcase which he had begun packing the previous afternoon. He pulled out his pocket watch, which he rarely used now with all the clocks in the household. The watch told him it was five minutes to midnight.

Blaine placed the pocket watch down and stared up at the ceiling. He could still hear his mother's voice in his ear, urging him to wake up, and he blamed himself for not recognizing that his mother had passed sooner. He recalled her words when she told him he was brave, and being proud of him, and tears began to prick his eyes. He had not cried over his mother since he was a small boy, but now as he turned around to lie on his side and tighten his blankets, he couldn't help but let out a shaky sob.

He closed his eyes as more tears streamed down his face. His dream felt so real, and if he had the opportunity again, he would have told her how much he missed her and that he didn't blame her for the curse which lead to his size being no bigger than an average mouse. Blaine swallowed, knowing that wallowing in regret wasn't going to bring his mother back or make falling asleep any easier. He brought the pillow closer to his head and buried himself deeper under the cover of his blankets. The room was so quiet that he could hear the rhythmic ticking of the pocket watch counting each second as it passed.

Blaine stirred, drawing his blankets tighter around his body and squeezing his eyes, as if the very motion would make sleep come faster to him.

Somewhere below him, the tiny pocket watch ticked its hand over to the number twelve, and all the other clocks, watches and digital displays in the house followed suit.

It began with Blaine's toes; a warm, pulsing feeling that prickled the soles of his feet and moved to his heels. It almost felt to Blaine like he was being tickled.

He blinked his eyes open when the tickling feeling spread through his legs and moved on to his belly, flowing up his spine and reaching his chest. Just as Blaine was about to start giggling, it stopped and then Blaine felt a very strange sensation. It spread like a lightning bolt throughout his entire body, leaving behind a trail of little quivers in its wake.

Blaine scrambled up from his pillow and pulled the covers away from his body. He glanced down to find his torso expanding as buttons began popping off his pajama top to fly across the room. He wasn't moving but his body felt like it was growing, stretching, expanding outwards and reaching up towards the ceiling. With a loud riiippp, his pajama top, bottoms, undershirt and underwear began to shrink and tear, as if they could not hold his size any more.

'W-What's happening?!' Blaine cried out to the dark room, but he didn't get a chance to say much else when he realized his head was going to hit the ceiling. Everything in the room was getting smaller. Or was he getting bigger?

In seconds, he crashed through the ceiling of the little bedroom with a loud cry of surprise as his body grew up and outwards, creating a large hole in the room. Blaine closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him as he shot up from the dollhouse, his head and upper body hitting the cooler air in Kurt's bedroom as his legs grew longer. Then it stopped, and everything was still. Blaine slowly blinked his eyes open and looked around cautiously.

He was in Kurt's bedroom but no longer in the dollhouse – well, a part of him still was. He could actually see over the top of Kurt's bed now and the bedroom furniture no longer looked like it belonged to a giant through his eyes. He looked down at his hands; nothing had changed there, but everything around him was…well, Blaine thought everything looked smaller. Then Blaine understood. Everything was smaller because he was bigger. He wasn't tiny any more. He was…

Blaine stepped forward to move over to the vanity mirror, but in his haste he forgot that one of his legs was still lodged in the dollhouse. He cried out as he toppled over, bringing the dollhouse with him and causing him to land on the floor with a loud crash.

As he groaned and tried to pull his leg free, Blaine heard sharp whispers from out in the hallway. He saw that the light near the staircase had quickly flickered on. He pried his foot away from the pieces of broken walls of the small house behind him and tried to stand up, just as he heard a series of footsteps hurry up to the bedroom door.

Blaine placed his hand in front of his eyes when the hallway light flooded the room, but he quickly remembered he was without clothing and moved them down to his crotch to cover himself. He squinted uncomfortably as Burt, Carole and Finn burst into the room. Finn was holding a baseball bat up in both hands, poised to strike with a determined look across his face, but he lowered it slowly as he stared at Blaine.

'Wait…whoa…what…' Finn said, his eyes growing wide in the light. Carole gasped and placed a hand over her mouth.

Burt's reaction was entirely different. 'Well…' he mumbled, reaching up to scratch at his bald head as he took in the sight of the young man standing naked in his son's bedroom.

Blaine didn't know what to say either. All he could do was look back at them and raise his shoulders in an apologetic shrug.

Kurt clutched his pillow close as he walked bleary-eyed up the driveway to the house, his night bag over his right shoulder. While he enjoyed his time with Rachel and Mercedes, he was glad to be finally home. His worrying over Blaine's condition had lessened when he received a call from his father, but he managed on little sleep throughout the night. He woke up before Mercedes and apologized to Rachel before she could beg him to stay for breakfast.

As he opened the front door with his house key and closed it quietly, he heard voices coming from the kitchen.

'…don't know, maybe I can tell her Sebastian wrecked it or something.'

'A cat wouldn't cause that much damage, Finn. Burt, surely could we try fixing it?'

Kurt heard a sigh. 'Needs a lot of work. But there's no harm in trying.' He stepped in to the kitchen to find his father, Carole and Finn already up and sitting around the kitchen table. A large pan and a bowl of pancake batter sat on the counter by the stove.

'Hey, buddy,' Burt said, glancing up. 'We weren't expecting you back so early.'

But Kurt's eyes were staring at what remained of Rachel's dollhouse that had been placed in the center of the table. Its white picket fence had been flattened. The roof had completely caved in. Walls and floors were hanging off the edges while the furniture inside had been forcibly disturbed. It was in ruins.

'Where's Blaine?' Kurt asked slowly, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the wreckage.

His father, Carole and Finn exchanged looks.

'He's upstairs,' Burt said, eyeing Kurt a little warily, even though a curious smile was on his face. 'Uh…Kurt, listen-'

Kurt wasn't sure he could listen to what his father wanted to say. He dropped his bag and pillow on the kitchen floor and raced out of the room, calling out as he ran upstairs.

'BLAINE! Blaine, are you okay?!'

His heart was thumping and he had an uneasy feeling in his chest when he reached his bedroom door but it didn't stop him from pushing it open and dashing inside.

'Blain-'

His voice left him as he stood in the center of his room, his eyes casting a disbelieving stare at what was in front of him for the second time that morning.

A boy was sitting on the edge of his bed. He was wearing sweatpants that Kurt had seen Finn wear on more than one occasion, but they reached past his ankles and covered some of his feet. He was dressed in one of Kurt's undershirts that looked a little too big on him. His feet were bare but the heating in the bedroom made the carpet warm underneath. There was a fresh bandage on the right side of his forehead. The light of the sunrise streaming through his bedroom window did not reflect off the boy's hair, as it had no gel in it yet.

Kurt couldn't move when the boy spotted him; his brown eyes sparkled and a tiny smile graced his features. He stood up and approached him, and Kurt was somewhat pleased to see that the boy was still a little shorter than he was. When the boy stood in front of him, Kurt could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

'Hi, Kurt,' the boy said, smiling shyly. He didn't seem offended when Kurt didn't respond, but Kurt couldn't find his tongue. All he could do was stare openly at the boy who used to fit in the palm of his hand.

Kurt's eyes flicked over Blaine's features; his inviting eyes, the dimples in his cheeks, his soft lips. The boy was gorgeous, breathtakingly so. Kurt could hardly breathe when Blaine stood up on his tiptoes and moved closer so that he could feel his warm breath only millimeters away. He could hear his heart beating loudly as Blaine leaned forward and he felt the gentle press of soft lips on his cheek, lingering there for a brief moment before Blaine pulled away, blushing slightly

'I've always wanted to do that,' he whispered, sounding pleased. Kurt responded in kind with a pink flush that spread quickly across his cheeks, but he noticed that Blaine hadn't moved away. Kurt saw the questioning look in the other boy's eyes when he dared to flick his own eyes down to Blaine's lips, his own parting when Blaine's eyes did the same. Kurt leaned over at the same time that Blaine did, slowly closing the gap between them as he let his eyes flutter closed…

'Boys! Come downstairs and have some breakfast!'

Both boys jumped backwards in surprise. They each shared a nervous laugh, Blaine rubbing the back of his neck while Kurt looked away, biting his lip. After a long pause, Kurt sighed and grabbed Blaine's hand.

'Come on, you must be starving.'

A low growl escaped from Blaine's stomach and he clutched it with his free hand.

'Now that you've mentioned it…' Blaine began, looking embarrassed.

Kurt laughed and pulled him out into the hallway to make their way downstairs. He had so many questions about Blaine and the dollhouse and what had happened while he was away that night, but they could wait for now. Blaine needed to fill himself up with as many pancakes as he could muster and a hot mug of cocoa, and Kurt could really do with those too.