After getting kicked out of Kurt's hospital room, Blaine drags one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs from the waiting room down the hall and parks it next to Kurt's door, glaring at the hospital employees that dare to make eye contact with him. He's still raw from finding Kurt on the cold white tile, broken further than Blaine's ever seen. Worse than that night he found the razors and pills. Kurt's lips were red even beneath the blood and a large purple hickey was on his neck. Wide blue eyes that screamed help and hurt andloss. And then Karofsky. It didn't matter that he was unconscious; Blaine knew he'd done something to Kurt. When Kurt flinched away from his touches at first and then grabbed Blaine, he heard the freaked whispers. I tried to stop him, sorry, sorry, I'm so dirty now, I'm so sorry Blaine, it's all my fault. Something squeezes Blaine's chest and he tries not to cry and breakdown because Kurt needs him, needs him to be strong, even if this mess is all on Blaine.

Fuck Burt. Seriously, just fuck him. The only reason Blaine's actually outside and not inside wrapped around Kurt like his minds screams for him to be is Kurt's small whimpers at their loud voices and his terrified eyes as the two most important people in his life claw at each other. Blaine couldn't do that, couldn't scare Kurt even more, and one look at Burt told him that's exactly where Kurt got his stupid stubbornness from. So Blaine, with a fierce hug and a whiff of Kurt and some comforting words is outside while Burt gets to be inside.

The doctors and nurses eye him sympathetically, but Blaine ignores them. The hospital is so white and cold and clinical and Blaine hates it here. Blaine's hands shake until he stuffs them in his armpits. Can't show weakness, he can never show weakness. He closes his eyes for a second because shit, he's so fucking tired and he just wants a cigarette to calm his nerves, but he quit those months ago when he found out Kurt's a singer. Smoke was bad for singers. He hadn't fully admitted it to himself then, but Blaine knew he'd liked Kurt. He always had.

It was Kurt's eyes that scared him the most. In the ambulance and then the emergency room. They were dull and gray and empty and it cut Blaine deeply. Kurt's eyes were his favorite part of Kurt, just in front of Kurt's lips and Kurt's hands. Always so expressive, even if the expression was hurt or pain. The last time Blaine had seen eyes like that was that morning after he made out with Rachel. He'd never wanted to see them again, but then Karofsky happened. He'd tried so hard not to cry while they patched his boyfriend up, but he wasn't sure if he'd succeeded. Kurt hadn't noticed.

Blaine sits cross-legged in the chair, alone, and still covered in Kurt's blood. Or maybe Karofsky. His blood boils at the thought of the football player. Kurt is crazy; Kurt's the most perfect person Blaine knows. In the history of the world, even. This was Karofsky. He heard that Jew-fro kid earlier. Karofsky assaulted Kurt. Sexually.

Blaine bites back a sob.

This isn't Kurt's fault. Or Karofsky. It's his.

He didn't protect Kurt.

All those times with the heavy bag were useless. Kurt still wound up hurt.

He knew Karofsky; knew he was unstable and had a sick crush on Kurt. Knew how dangerous he was.

"Stay the fuck away from him. I was offering help, but fuck that shit. You don't deserve him." Blaine spits out. God, he hates Karofsky. Hates how he thinks touching his Kurt is ok. Kurt is never going near him again. Never.

Karofsky smirks, dark and confident. "Try and stop me, Anderson." He challenges, though he stays well away from Blaine's fists. Wise move, because if Blaine had an opening? The giant idiot would be on the ground and missing his balls faster than he could grovel out a pathetic please.

Blaine squeezes his fists. He's actually trying now; he wants to finish the year out at McKinley. For Kurt. Who gets this fucking huge and beautiful smile when Blaine casually mentions their summer or senior year or college or some shit. Juvie would fuck that up and Blaine's decided to make it his mission to keep Kurt happy forever.

Yeah, he's a sap.

"I mean it." Blaine growls out. He might have a boyfriend, but he's still a badass and this asshole is encroaching on his territory. Kurt would kick his ass if he knew Blaine thought of him like that sometimes, but. Whatever. "Keep your fucking dick in your pants and stay away from Kurt and we won't have a problem."

At the mention of his sexuality, Karofsky pales, but he keeps his voice bored. "I don't associate with fags. Fuck you, ladyboy." He turns and walks away, flipping Blaine off without looking back.

Blaine punches the nearest locker, startling an unsuspecting freshman. Fuck it. He runs to find Kurt. They have training to do.

He doesn't notice the police officers until they pass him and walk into Kurt's room. He remembers the handcuffs on Kurt earlier, but had been too distracted with keeping Kurt coherent for the paramedics to yell at them. Why the fuck were they arresting Kurt, it was Karofsky, it was all Karofsky! Blaine clenches his fists, feeling his nails dig into the palms of his hands. There are some yells from Burt, and then the officers leave.

The next few hours pass in a daze, but Blaine doesn't even consider leaving. He can't. He failed Kurt once; he'll never do it again. Never. If Kurt still wants him.

Fuck, why does he always fuck everything up? His family; his friends; Kurt. His dad was so right, Blaine completely useless and weak. Shit, he wants a cig. He hears cries coming from Kurt's rooms and does everything in his power to not run inside. Kurt had a father that cared about him. Burt would take care of him a hell of a lot better than a fucking kid with too many piercings and a penchant for fighting and swearing ever could. Blaine stood up suddenly, limbs shaking from anger; fear; exhaustion; who the fuck knows. He wants to punch something. Instead, Blaine paces up and down the hallway, glaring at every pitying face.

"Blaine?"

His head snaps up. Burt is at Kurt's door, looking tired and haggard. Muffled sobs come from the room and Blaine feels his heart crack again. He just wants to be inside, filling his nose and his arms with Kurt, because Kurt is everything.

"You can go in, kid." Burt steps aside, and that's all the invitation Blaine needs before he practically runs into the room. Kurt's curled up on his bed, away from the door, and his body shakes. Blaine doesn't waste a second before he climbs up behind Kurt and buries his faces in Kurt's clean hair.

Beneath him, Kurt slowly stops shaking. He threads his fingers through Blaine's and sighs, tension draining.

Maybe he fucked up earlier, but Blaine is going to do whatever it takes to put a smile back on Kurt's face.

Even if that means setting him free.

Blaine holds Kurt tighter.