“So wait… you like… have to hang out with him… all day?” Santana gawked as Kurt told her and their small circle of friends the story of his day.

Kurt nodded somberly, looking at the reactions of disgust and shock from those around him.  It was the worst possible torture he could have envisioned.

“Why didn't you just fudge up your medical and mental tests man?” Noah asked, hands gesturing to either side.

“They told me they would check it against my past tests and they'd know if I was trying to mess things up on purpose…. besides… I was taught not to lie.”  Kurt asserted, a whine in his voice as he defended his actions.

“Still man… uck.  Sorry.”  Noah said with a shake of his head.

It was unfortunate, Kurt couldn't deny it, but it came with benefits too - ones he didn't tell his friends about lest they get jealous.  

For starters, he didn't have to do the shift work on the floor.  He would hang out with Blaine for as long as Blaine was there each day with his dad, and then he'd get to have his schoolwork time and then bed at what most people would consider a normal time.  Kurt would also get to eat lunch and snacks with Blaine upstairs in a room that Mr. Anderson was having repurposed specifically as a “hang out” room for his son and Kurt, and Kurt would be allowed to forgo his uniform shirt.  

Which meant he wouldn't be labelled and that he would get to be called by his real name and not the stupid letter and numbers combination.

Plus, if he managed to figure out how to distract Blaine from going downstairs, his sacrifice meant that the rest of the people on the floor wouldn't end up with bruises and distractions from Blaine.  

He just needed to figure out how to engage Blaine in play… or what normal kids even played his age.  Running around on the farm probably wasn't good preparation for the type of play Blaine was used to with his friends from school.  Did kids his age still play pretend?  Boardgames maybe?  How was he supposed to keep Blaine occupied all day?

“You are going to have so many bruises by the end of tomorrow….”  Santana chirped at him with a shake of her own head, looking at Kurt with nothing less than pity.

“Hell… he'll be lucky he doesn't end up with a broken bone.”  Noah insisted and then looked around the group, “We should place bets on how bad Kurt gets broke tomorrow.”

“Noah!” Sam hissed and then looked to Kurt, “Ignore them.  Maybe his dad's talk will have smartened him up and he'll be nice to you.”

That caused Noah and Santana to snort-chuckle while Kurt looked sadly down to his plain, grey shoes with a sigh.  “I hope so.  Thanks Sam.”

The whistle sounded and his friends went back to the floor for their last shift of the day, leaving Kurt behind to keep working on his schoolwork, trying to get ahead just in case his days with Blaine ended up being more consuming than he thought they might be.  Plus it allowed him to distract himself from the worry that came with knowing that tomorrow he was somehow responsible for Blaine's behaviour.

God that was stressful.

He plowed through as much as he could manage until he saw numbers and letters dancing in front of his eyes and decided to shower and retreat to his bunk for the night - changed since his sleep schedule was set now for two hours earlier than it had been before.  He saw that a set of plain clothes had been delivered there, no doubt for wearing tomorrow.

“Play clothes…”  He murmured to himself.  “How very Sound of Music.”

God he missed movies… and watching them with his mom.  He stifled a sob that threatened to rise in his throat and crawled in for the night, forcing himself to sleep by counting the bits on the popcorn ceiling above him.

It didn't matter that he fell asleep.  It still wasn't restful.  His dreams were filled with bruises and cuts and being pulled away from his dad and being set in front of Blaine.  It would have been a nightmare had Kurt not waken up sooner than he did.

When he walked up the stairs that morning, Tina again led him through the halls, this time to a different room that had a plain white paper stuck over the nameplate that said “Blaine Anderson & Co.” in what was clearly the writing of a child.

“Have fun.”  Tina said in a mockingly cheery tone before walking away and leaving Kurt in front of the door, lifting a fist up to knock but holding it there in front of the door warily.

The door creaked open then, almost ominously before him until he was face to face with pudgy cheeks, black springy curls, and brown eyes.  

“Hey Dentie.”

“Hi.”  Kurt replied softly, lowering his hand and hovering in the doorway nervously.

Blaine left the door open as he stalked towards what looked like a fort made of a table and blanket and crawled in.  Kurt waited a moment, then, realizing he wasn't about to be invited in, walked in to join Blaine.  He crouched in front of the fort and looked around in the darkness until his eyes adjusted and he saw Blaine sitting back and playing with some lego bits.

“What're you doing?”

“Building.  You can organize my blocks.  Put them in piles of the same colour.”

Kurt nodded and crawled in, having to squint to figure out what colour was what in the dim light before setting each piece in the appropriate pile.  This was okay.  He could do this.  It wasn't exactly playing, but he knew how to sort things and so far Blaine hadn't hurt him.

When the piles were neatly sorted, not just by colour, but also by size, Kurt offered Blaine a smile and looked up.  “Done.”

“Huh…”  Blaine looked it over and nodded, and for a moment, Kurt thought he might actually get a compliment or at least some positive reaction out of Blaine.

Then Blaine swiped his hand over it all, mixing them back up.  “Good.  Do it again Dent.”

He may not have marked Kurt, but Blaine certainly did know how to cut him where it hurt.  Kurt's heart felt like it had been stomped, and with shaky hands he began the process again.

Only for Blaine to mix it up once more, and a fourth time, and a fifth, until he glared at Kurt and spat, “All you know how to do is follow orders huh?  How am I supposed to play with you?  Can't even think for yourself.”

It felt true, and as Kurt looked down at the messed up pile of blocks in front of him he couldn't help but tear up.  He was like a robot that was ordered around.  Taught to have no emotions that the bosses could see and comply with whatever requests they had.  

“Awww.  Little baby Dentie gonna cry?” Blaine snickered, seeing the wetness in the corners of Kurt's eyes.  “Too bad you don't have your mommy to kiss your booboo's better.”

“My mom died….”  Kurt choked out, a sob building in his throat that, try as he was, he couldn't push back down.

Blaine was quiet then - out of pity or uncertainty to say Kurt wasn't sure - but he was grateful for the silence that allowed him to recollect his thoughts and rub the tears away from his eyes.

“What do you want me to do now?”

“Read to me.”

Blaine crawled out of the tent and Kurt followed, taking the book into his hands that Blaine immediately threw at him and beginning to read.  He was stopped regularly, told to speed up, slow down, make different voices or accents, or just to reread.  Throughout it all, Blaine laid back on the floor, tossing a little ball up in the air and catching it in his hands again.  

Fwip - Whift - Plut.  Fwip - Whift - Plut.  As Kurt read, that was the sound the ball tossing made.  Over and over and over again, until Blaine caught the ball and rolled on his side, ending the little rhythm that Kurt had begun to read along to.

“Come on.  Let's have a pee race.”

Kurt blinked a few times, setting the book down and dogearring the page so he didn't lose it if Blaine asked him to read again, before standing and following after Blaine to the bathrooms.  

Blaine pointed to the urinal beside his own, dropping his pants so they fell around his ankles.  “On the count of three we start.”

Kurt went red in the cheeks, averting his eyes to the toilet and wishing Blaine would just punch him.  This kid seriously wanted to do this?  What the heck was wrong with him?

But Kurt undid his pants and bashfully turned his body to the side a little, trying to hide himself as he positioned himself for what was clearly going to be the weird highlight of the day as Blaine counted down and then they both urinated in tandem.

“Hah!  I peed longer!  I win!”  Blaine cried victoriously as Kurt finished up and pulled his pants back over himself, trying to will away the blush on his face.

How the hell was having more pee a victory?

He ignored Blaine's little dance, opting to go wash his hands and inwardly gagging when he saw Blaine just walk out without doing the same, before returning to the playroom where Blaine had stripped the table of the blanket and set down some paper.

“We're going to draw.”  He directed, sitting down and beginning to sketch something out.

Kurt couldn't remember the last time he had drawn anything that wasn't for a school assignment, and so happily began drawing his family house from the memories he had.  A nice little rose garden in the front that his mother kept up, and the driveway where his dad kept his old mustang he liked to work on in his free time.  There was the bushes the lined each side of the property line, and the cute little mailbox  at the corner.  He loved thinking about that house, and had long ago decided that he would get one just like it when he was older.

When he was done, he looked over the picture, letting a smile take over his face before looking over at Blaine's picture - some kind of monkey he guessed.

“Drawing houses is so kindergarten.”  Blaine snorted as he scanned over Kurt's picture.

“It was my family's house….”  Kurt tried to explain before Blaine snatched the picture from him and ripped it up to little shreds in front of him.

“It's stupid.  Draw animals.”

Kurt took in a ragged breath.  Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry… he chanted inside his head, reaching for a fresh piece of paper from the pile and starting to sketch out a cat - though definitely with much less detail and care then the house he had drawn.  If Blaine was going to rip this one up too - what was the point of making an effort?

And he did.  The cat was too dumb.  The elephant he drew next looked funny, and the zebra he drew after that was apparently racist - though Kurt was at a loss for how exactly.  Each picture was torn up until there was a snowpile of paper bits on the floor around Blaine.  

“Why are you so mean….?” Kurt asked, watching his puppy get torn up.  The will to continue drawing had long ago waned, and he was tired of watching anything he did get ruined.

“I'm not mean.  I'm a boss.  You have to do what I say.”  Blaine huffed.  “Now draw again.”

“No.”  Kurt said with a shake of his head, arms folding over his chest in defiance.  “You keep tearing them up.  I don't want to anymore.”

“Maybe you should go back to being a useless Dent on the floor then!”

Kurt's face wrinkled up as he got angry, and maybe he'd regret it, but he was already tired of the day and lunch was still a ways off yet.  He stood up and leaned over the table, finally snapping back at Blaine.  “I am NOT useless.  YOU are.  At least I get things done!  All you do is cause problems like a whiny baby!”

“You can't talk to me like that!”  Blaine countered, pulling back as Kurt moved into his space.

“I just did!  You think I want to be here with you?!  You're so annoying and mean and rude!  No one wants to be with you!”

“You… you can't talk like that to me!  I'll tell my dad!”

“Fine!”  Kurt threw his hands up in the air.  “At least I'll be moved to work someplace else then!  I don't want to be around you!  You're a spoiled brat and EVERYONE thinks so.”

“No….”

Kurt nodded insistently.  “Yes.  They all say so.  You're a stupid, whiny, baby.  That's why you don't have any friends to play with and they needed to hire me to do it.”

Blaine made a soft whine and grabbed the blanket off the floor, tossing it up over him, and hiding within it.  “Leave me alone!”

Kurt snorted at the sight, Blaine just confirming everything he had said.  “I can't.  I'm getting paid to babysit you.”

“I don't want you here!”  Blaine called out from under the blanket.  “Go away!”

“Too  bad.”

“You're mean!”

“You're obnoxious!”

“What's obnoxious?”

Kurt laughed at that.  With his mediocre module schooling and Blaine's fancy private schooling, he was still the one that knew that word.  “Means you're rude and in people's faces.”

“You made that up!”

“Did not.  Look it up.”

“Don't wanna.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, sitting back down on his chair and patiently waiting for Blaine to shed the blanket or at least calm down enough to be reasonable.  He was sure he'd get in trouble for snapping back at Blaine once Blaine told his father, but right now he felt invincible.  He had stood up for himself and it had felt amazing.