They've been talking.

Like, really talking. About what happened in the locker room, about what Kurt dreams about, about his depression and mood swings. It's hard and it's painful, but Kurt feels so much better after he lets it all out to Blaine. He's not judged or told empty promises, he can just be.

"I want you to be proud of me," Kurt whispers into the phone once, late at night.

"Kurt…" Blaine sucks in a breath, the line crackling slightly. "I'm always proud of you. And I'm so glad you didn't throw my note back at my face that day."

Kurt lets out a mix between a laugh and a sob and swallows hard. "You'd have beaten me up."

"Idiot. I wouldn't've." Blaine says grumpily. Even a few hundred miles away, Kurt can see Blaine scowling while wrapped up in his covers. California must be warmer than Ohio, but Blaine's a closet cuddler and he loves his blankets.

"I'm glad I gave you a chance too," Kurt cuts him off quickly and holds his breath. He tries not to think about what it would have been like to go through this year alone. It's terrifying.

Sometimes Blaine stops and just looks at Kurt. His eyes get soft and pained and scared and then he'll hug Kurt, great big hugs and squeezes like he thinks Kurt's going to shatter and disappear if Blaine's not right there. They don't say anything during those times.

Kurt always changes the subject as soon as possible because he doesn't want to remember how he felt without someone there.

That night, Kurt falls asleep to Blaine's breathing in his ear.

Blaine gets shipped back a few days early to no one's surprise. He sounds entirely too proud of himself when he calls Kurt and really, Kurt can't say he minds having his boyfriend back in the same time zone.

At the airport, Blaine barely catches sight of Kurt by the baggage claim before he's running across the room. He almost knocks over a little old lady with a million purses, but he doesn't slow down until he's barreling into Kurt and wrapping him up in his strong arms.

Blaine's scent surrounds Kurt and he hides his face in Blaine's neck and tries really hard not to cry. If they weren't in the middle of Ohio, Kurt probably would have kissed him, but Blaine seems just fine with the PG-rated hug.

"I missed you," Kurt gets out roughly, clutching the black leather of Blaine's jacket tightly. Against his chest, he can feel Blaine's heart thudding softly and it just feels like home.

"I really fucking missed you," Blaine returns, not letting go.

Things go really well once Blaine's home. Until they don't.

It starts off innocently. A standard white envelope with Kurt's name on it gets plopped down in front of him as Burt sorts through the mail. Kurt doesn't even notice at first, too busy drinking coffee and petting Xena as he flips through the paper after school. Blaine's with his mom for the night, for once.

Ever since he got back from California, he tries to spend more time with her. Kurt doesn't mind. He knows Blaine's in contact with his dad's girlfriend too, but he doesn't ask about that. It's not any of his business.

The envelope sits innocently until it catches Kurt's eye. "What's this?" he asks Burt, a sense of apprehension settling deep within his chest. He doesn't like that envelope. It looks distrustful.

"No idea, kiddo," Burt replies absently. He scans yet another bill and scowls. "Go open it; might be some good news in this pile of crap."

The paper is heavy in Kurt's hand and thick, with his name carefully handwritten on the front. Kurt stares at the writing. It looks familiar, but it's not Blaine's and there's no reason why anyone would write to him with paper and pen these days, anyway. Xena whines and bats at Kurt's leg, but he doesn't pay her any attention and keeps examining the letter, turning the envelope over and over in his hands. The return address is just an official-looking crest, with olive branches and an eagle and pillars. Kurt squints at the tiny writing around the edge.

Lima County Juvenile Detention Center

"No," Kurt breathes out, suddenly lightheaded. No.

He wouldn't dare. Not after what he did.

With numb hands, Kurt flips the envelope over and works the flap open with shaking hands. Inside there are a few pages filled with messy, cramped writing. Kurt pulls them out mechanically. It's like he can't stop himself, can't stop his eyes from reading those words. He makes it through the first two sentences before he stands up abruptly storms away, ignoring his dad's worried call. Xena tries to catch up to Kurt's quick pace. The letter is still clutched in his hand and it crunches under his grip

He's not sure if he's trembling from fear or anger, but Kurt's pretty fucking sure it doesn't matter at this point. The words he read keep running through his head, loud and large and accusing and Kurt just needs to scream and get away or cry.

"Dear Kurt,
I know you don't owe me anything after what I did to you, but I'm writing this anyway. I just want to explain myself and I hope you can understand me after I'm done."

Kurt slams his bedroom door behind him, feeling a twinge of guilt at Xena's confused yelp, but he needs to be alone. Just alone so he can think. It's hard to breath with his chest so tight and he gulps in air as he paces up and down, up and down, eyes stinging from unshed tears. He was doing so good; he was better, why this? Why now?

When his lungs start burning and vision narrows, Kurt realizes he's well on his way to a panic attack and he fumbles with his phone until he's calling Blaine and Kurt collapses to the floor and leans against the bed. Squeezing his eyes shut, Kurt tries to slow his ragged breathing, but he just keeps seeing him and he's there and looming and angry and Kurt chokes out a sob before hiding his face in his knees and pressing the phone so tight against his ear he vaguely wonders if it will crack.

"I hope you can understand me."

It takes everything to not throw up right there on his carpet.

Through a fog, Kurt can hear his dad pounding on the door, but then Blaine finally picks up and everything else fades.

"Kurt?"

"He wrote to me," Kurt says bitterly. He doesn't want to explain and really hopes Blaine gets what he's not saying. Kurt knows how he must sound, voice raw and choked and breathing harsh. It's just fucking typical.

Blaine's silent for a long time. "Karofsky?" he snarls and Kurt leans back and closes his eyes. His dad has stopped pounding on the door and there's a soft beep in his ear alerting Kurt to a new text message. He pulls his phone away briefly after telling Blaine to wait.

From: Dad
If you're talking to Blaine that's fine let me know

Kurt responds with a simple 'yes' and goes back to the call.

"Karofsky wrote you a fucking letter?!" Blaine seethes through the speakers and Kurt just nods.

"He wants…I don't know. Closure. Forgiveness." Kurt glares at the letter pile a few feet away from him on the floor. He doesn't even remember dropping it. He inhales sharply. "I didn't read all of it. Yet." He rubs his forehead.

"I can come over."

Kurt nods before he remembers Blaine can't see him. "Please," he whispers brokenly.

Later that night, Kurt winds up at the kitchen table with Blaine, his dad, Carol, Finn, and Dr. Englund. The letter is sitting in the middle of the wood like some bizarre centerpiece, creased from multiple readings. Kurt's only allowed Blaine and Dr. Englund to read it so far. His father looked so hurt, but Kurt stayed firm. There are some things fathers should never have to read about their children, and the look on Blaine's face said more than enough about the letter's contents.

He hasn't finished it, hasn't read past those first two damning sentences, but he can still feel his presence looming over his shoulders. It makes Kurt jittery and tense and frayed.

Everyone keeps looking at him and even Xena is curled up in the corner and whining occasionally and Kurt can't take the silence anymore so he squeezes Blaine's hand for strength and breathes out.

"Why?" Kurt winces inwardly at how his voice cracks on the single word. "I felt safe. He couldn't get me. He-he was gone. How can he still do this to me?" He turns to Blaine, who is a mix between fury and sorrow. "I can't escape him," Kurt whispers so only Blaine can hear. Blaine shifts his chair closer and pulls Kurt into a fierce hug.

"Someone give me a fucking good reason why I shouldn't drive to that prison and punch out Karofsky's teeth," Blaine growls over Kurt's shoulder. His fingers tighten in Kurt's shirt. "How the fuck was that damn letter even mailed?!"

"I second that one," Burt agrees, mouth set in a deep frown. Next to him, Carole hasn't taken her eyes off of Kurt, but the motherly pity in her eyes makes Kurt's chest hurt and he buries his face in Blaine's neck to avoid her.

Dr. Englund stands up abruptly. "I need to use a phone," she says and Kurt tenses at the hardness in her voice. She's never been anything but calm and rational during their sessions, even when Kurt insults everything from her clothes to her family to her job, and this anger is almost frightening. Kurt watches with wide eyes as his dad hands her the cordless house phone and she storms out of the room with a furious expression.

"Are you gonna read it?" Finn suddenly asks and that's enough to get Kurt's attention. He pulls away from Blaine and stares at Finn incredulously. Carol pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"What?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Finn drops his gaze and waves at the discarded letter. "Aren't you, like, he pauses as if searching for the words. "Aren't you gonna see what he says?"

Blaine snarls but Kurt elbows him sharply. "No," he says aloud. "He doesn't get to have power over me like this. I don't owe him anything. I don't owe him forgiveness and I certainly don't owe him the chance to try." The words are true, but they come out hollow and Kurt knows he's going to give in and he hates himself for that. Behind him, Blaine hugs him closer, pressing his chest against Kurt's back.

"I don't give a flying fuck about your patient!" an angry voice yells from the living room. They all stare at the entryway as Kurt's therapist continues her tirade. "Your patient attacked mine, you imbecile;he's in jail! His rights don't trump his victim's!"

Kurt flinches at the words and leans back into Blaine. In the brief pause, Burt and Carole lock eyes, nervous and indignant expressions mirrored on their faces. Finn pales.

"Oh I'm sorry, juvenile detention," Dr. Englund spits out. "My bad," she continues and Kurt marvels at her sarcasm. It's so like his own. "Next time, I'll remember the distinction. But it doesn't change the fact that this stupidly homophobic town let your patient off lightly for attempted rape. But he's just misunderstood."

Pause.

"He can have treatment as long as his therapy doesn't interfere with my patient's!" she roars and Kurt jumps back. Blaine whispers soft nothings in his ear, though he trembles like he wants nothing more than to drive to Lima's corrections facility and beat the shit out of Karofsky. Dr. Englund wasn't done. "Kurt deserves to feel safe and protected and heal from the attack, and he can't do that if his attacker is trying to contact him and ask him for forgiveness! … Figure something else out because it is not my problem. Expect a call from your superiors."

Sharp footsteps stomp their way back to the kitchen and Dr. Englund appears in the door with a flushed, angry face and heaving chest. No one bothers to hide that fact that they overheard the entire conversation, but Burt does silent pass her the cup of coffee she'd abandoned earlier.

"Thank you," she says politely, and sips it moodily. She doesn't stop watching Kurt. Her gaze is distrustful and worried and Kurt flushes.

"I'm not suicidal," Kurt mutters and pulls away from Blaine slightly. "Hearing his name isn't going to send me in a downward spiral of depression that leads to me slitting my wrists." Again, his mind supplies unhelpfully. Blaine glares at him and Kurt ignores the guilt building. He holds his hand out towards the floor and Xena pads over gratefully, licking at his fingers before allowing him to stroke through her fur.

Arching a very unimpressed eyebrow, Dr. Englund puts down her cup. "The letter was a therapy tool for David," she says instead. "His…counselor…thought it would help him come to terms with what he did so he could forgive himself and move on."

Blaine snorts and Burt's face grows red, but it's Finn that shocks everyone. "But, like," He glances at Kurt helplessly. "He screwed up. He's the one that hurt my brother; why should he heal before Kurt can?"

"He's still a person," Kurt says quietly. His chest aches and he's suddenly just tired, emotionally and physically, but Blaine stares at him in disbelief and Kurt knows he has to explain. "What…what he did was—it was unforgivable. But he's a person and he had his reasons and I should hear him out. Maybe it won't help him, maybe it won't help me; but he was in a really messed up situation and I just…I want to know."

Scoffing, Blaine leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. He doesn't stop glaring at Kurt. "You don't owe that shithead anything," he snarls. "He doesn't deserve an excuse. He tried to rape you—"

"I KNOW!" Kurt shouts, slamming a fist on the table. It's hard to breath and he can feel the shocked eyes on him, but fuck. "I was there, Blaine, I'm aware of what he did to me! What he did for weeks!" It's the first time Kurt's really admitted that the Karofsky situation was more than just that one day in the locker room. He tries to calm down, tries to release his hands from their tight fists, but he keeps feeling him. Blaine hasn't moved. No one has.

Jesus, when did everything get so complicated?

Kurt swallows hard, searching for the right words. "I want to know. Why." His voice comes out haltingly. "I deserve that. For me. Not. Him."

They don't speak for a long time after that.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Blaine says a few days later behind the wheel of Kurt's Navigator. His fingers are white around the steering wheel and his mouth is set in a hard line. "You're being a fucking moron." Blaine glares at his passenger.

"Thank you for driving me," Kurt whispers, staring out the window at the passing scenery. His hands twist nervously in his lap, clenching and unclenching the letter. You can do this.

Blaine snorts and shakes his head. "Fucking idiot," he swears under his breath. It should be insulting, but Kurt hears the worry underneath the frustration. "When your dad finds out, this was your idea." He says it like a threat, but it sounds more scared than anything.

"Yeah."

He's read the letter through several times. He cried the first time, torn between sadness, guilt, horror and sickness. The second time, he was numb. Third, angry. Fourth…well. That's when Kurt decided he needed to take a trip to Kenton.

Lima decided it needed a detention center for juvenile offenders. However, they built the center the next town over in Kenton. Lima taxpayers funded it, so it retained the Lima County seal, but both towns were furious at the outcome. It had been a big deal when Kurt was little, though his dad always rolled his eyes at the news and muttered about people always complaining. The facility is just over ten years old, but looks older and even more depressing than Kurt had expected when they pull into the nearly vacant lot.

Grey, square and unwelcoming, the building looms out of the ground like it had oozed up from beneath the dirt without a care. Kurt doesn't unbuckle himself immediately; instead he chooses to watch the cold exterior for several minutes.

Blaine nudges his shoulder. "We can just leave. You don't have to go inside." His voice is soft and Kurt smiles weakly.

"I really do," Kurt says, but grabs Blaine's hand all the same. "You'll come with me?"

"I'm not leaving you."

"And you're going to let me talk? And not punch him when you see him?"

Blaine grins evilly.

"Blaine."

"Fine!" He scowls. "I won't punch him. Right away," Blaine adds with a growl.

It's probably the best Kurt's going to get so he drops Blaine's hand and gets out of the car. Blaine follows quickly, hurrying through the unseasonably cool air.

Inside is a blur of security checks and pat downs and signing false names to the register before they wait for visiting hours. After an hour, they're escorted to a small room with a table and some folding chairs. Kurt sits stiffly in one while they wait with his arms wrapped tight around his middle. Blaine moodily leans back in his with his arms crossed and feet resting on another. He's not happy and he wants Kurt to know. Kurt ignores him.

When the door opens again and a shrunken boy shuffles in after a guard, Kurt freezes in sudden fear, but forces himself to relax enough that only Blaine would notice his terror.

Karofsky… looks terrible. He's thinner and pale, with the grey jumpsuit hanging off his frame and downcast eyes. His nose is slightly deformed, probably from the two times Kurt broke it. Even his shoulders slump down like they're carrying a huge weight.

The boy in Kurt's nightmares has been reduced to this shell. And Kurt's not sure how he feels about it.

The guard leads Karofsky to the table and Kurt notices the silver handcuffs around his wrists. They aren't removed. The guard, a young man with sandy hair glances at Kurt after getting Karofsky situated.

"D'you want me in here?" he asks with a Southern drawl.

Kurt murmurs "no" while Blaine firmly says "yes!" After Kurt glares, Blaine rolls his eyes. "No," he grunts, slouching in his chair again and shooting Karofsky a dirty look.

The guard's eyes flicker between the two but nod. "I'll be outside, just call." He turns to Karofsky. "Behave, David." Karofsky nods listlessly and the guard leaves.

The room is tense and silent as Kurt searches for the right words. Karofsky doesn't even look at him; preferring to pick at his nails and sleeves. Finally Kurt drags his chair to the other side of the table and sits, leaning his elbows on the surface.

"Look at me, Karofsky," he says quietly. Getting no response, anger bubbles through Kurt's veins. "I said, LOOK AT ME."

Karofsky jumps at the hard tone and stares at Kurt in shock. His eyes grow shiny and scared and fuck him he has no right—Kurt breathes out harshly to calm down. Blaine shifts minutely in the corner of his eye, like he's readying for something. But Kurt wants answers.

"You. You sent me this." Kurt drops the letter on the table between them. Karofsky's eyes flit down to the white paper before resettling on Kurt.

"You look good," he says hoarsely, changing the subject. Kurt's skin crawls and he fights the urge to run.

Blaine growls and leans forward. "No thanks to you," he sneers. "But one more word about Kurt's appearance and I'll break your teeth, asshole."

Karofsky looks affronted and bristles at Blaine's words. He leans closer to Kurt and gestures to Blaine with his chained hands. "Still with that piece of shit, huh?" he asks.

"Well, he never tried to rape me, so that's a major plus," Kurt retorts. This is already so out of hand and Kurt glares Blaine into sulky submission. Karofsky flinches and slumps back in his chair.

"I said I was sorry in the letter," he mumbles and Kurt barks out a laugh that verges on hysterical.

"Sorry doesn't erase what you did!" Kurt hisses. He clenches his hands into tight fists because he'll do something awful to Karofsky if he doesn't. Karofsky avoids his eyes again and Kurt snaps. "Karofsky! Look. At. Me. Face what you did to me!"

"Dave." Karofsky says like it has some secret meaning.

"What?"

"Just…call me Dave," he explains in a hurt voice. "Not Karofsky. My name is Dave."

Shit. He's trying to humanize himself, Kurt realizes. To distance himself from the person that tortured Kurt. It's horrifying and sick and…Kurt snaps his mouth shut and rubs his face. This is so much harder than he thought.

"Kurt can call you whatever he wants," Blaine puts in. Karofsky glares at him but Blaine just cocks an eyebrow tauntingly.

"Kurt—"

"Don't say his name!"

"Blaine." Kurt shoots him a warning glance. "Please." Blaine scowls but raises him arms in mock surrender. He doesn't stop watching Dave though.

Kurt sighs. "Fine. Dave." The name tastes foul in his mouth, but Kurt gets over it. "Why did you send me this?" He pushes the letter ever so slightly towards his old tormenter, but Karofsky ignores it.

"You do look great. Azimio said you'd been wearing Hudson's shit but…I'm glad you stopped." His eyes drag down Kurt's vest-covered torso and Kurt's tries not to throw up at his hungry gaze. "I like your hair too. You really can pull off any look, Kurt."

"Stop that." He whispers, fighting the urge to shiver.

"Stop what? I'm just saying—"

"I'm with Blaine! Don't try to flirt with me, especially—especially—after what you did to me. Don't. I read your fucking letter, I know you think what happened was some—fucking weird—misdirection of jealously, but you can't do this to me." Kurt's hates how his voice chokes up and his hands won't stop shaking but Dave has to hear this.

"I said I was sorry," Dave says, hurt. "I know what I did was wrong and I'm gonna regret it every day for the rest of my life but it doesn't change that I love you, Kurt." His eyes shine with hope and Kurt's stomach roils unpleasantly as his heart drops like a stone. That part hadn't been in Dave's confessional. Next to him Blaine looks downright murderous but Kurt has other things to worry about.

"You love me?" Kurt repeats hoarsely.

Dave nods with a slow grin. "Yeah," he breathes, like he's been holding it in for a long time. "I've been workin' on myself, y'know? Been learning to accept that I'm gay and that some people won't like it, like my mom, but that's ok because there will be others that'll like me for me. Like you."

"Dave—" Kurt can't even begin with this fucked up logic. His head swims and he vaguely wonders if he's going to faint. Blaine trembles, gripping his chair's arms with vibrating hands like he's holding himself back from killing Karofsky.

"So I wrote you the letter. 'Cause I really fucked up with you and I wanted to fix it and maybe…" He trails off and glances at Blaine, seemingly undisturbed by the look of rage on his face. "Well, you and him might not be together forever. He's a dick and you deserve so much better than a testosterone-filled druggie."

Ah. It all falls into place. "So, what? You wrote this letter thinking I'd read it and forgive you? Fall into your arms and patiently wait for two years until you're released and then we'd be together?" Kurt voices rises as he goes on. He waves at the pile of paper between them. "Was that really what you thought would happen? You thought I'd leave Blaine for you if you blamed literally everything from society to your mom for the fact that you couldn't control yourself around me, and I would forgive you?!"

"Kurt—"

"Shut up! It's my turn!" Kurt snaps. He tries to calm his breathing before thinking that to hell with it: this shit has gone on long enough. "You tried to rape me."

"I didn't actually—"

"That doesn't fucking matter! You tried!" Kurt runs his hands through his hair in frustration. The prison's therapist sucks. He lets out a harsh breath and glares at Karofsky. God, he hates him so much. "Say it!"

"I—" Karofsky just stares with wide eyes.

"You tried to rape me." Kurt repeats. "And before that, you stalked me. Intimidated me, threw me into lockers, slushied me, groped me, stole my first kiss—"

"Kurt, I'm sorry, I—" Karofsky's eyes actually filled with tears and it just makes Kurt angrier.

"I still have nightmares about you." Kurt shakes his head and scoffs. "Every night! I wake up crying because you come back and finish the job. You either rape me, or kill me, or both. Or you do it to Blaine first and make me watch, and then me." Blaine silently grabs one of Kurt's hands stokes his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. It's comforting and Kurt focuses on the rough calluses on Blaine's fingers to calm down. It doesn't really work and he just wants to cry. "You and I aren't going to happen. I hope…I hope you can find someone who can be with you in the future, but it won't be me."

Karofsky's face crumbles and he looks heartbroken but Kurt just sniffs roughly and wipes at his tearing eyes. "Kurt, I mean it; I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," Karofsky whispers and Kurt doesn't care.

"It doesn't matter." Kurt laughs bitterly and shakes his head again. "I know. I know you made a lot of mistakes but these…I can't forgive you. I can't." He stands up abruptly, pulling Blaine with him. "Never contact me again." Kurt takes one last look at Karofksy's eyes, so devoid of hope and filled with anguish and turns away.

He leaves the letters.

It feels like freedom.