The week drags on slowly.

Blaine is still stuck in detention every day until five, so Kurt has to face Glee alone. It's tiring. He'd hoped things would change after he sung, but they hadn't. Not really.

He gets a few more looks sent his way, a more greetings. But they're afraid of him. Now that they know Kurt wasn't doing alright for a while, they don't know how to talk to him. So Kurt watches the Glee club get swept up in their own drama and lets him be.

Kurt doesn't hate them for it.

Karofsky walks by and slams him into a locker. Kurt bites back a whimper and pretends not to notice how his hand stayed on his shoulder for an extra second, how Karofsky's eyes suddenly darken with lust. He schools his face into a glare and marches away.

He pretends not to feel Karofsky's eyes on his ass.

"Hey."

Three days after "the incident," Karofsky corners Kurt at his locker. He stands in front of Kurt, arms crossed, face impassive. Kurt swallows the sudden fear and wishes Blaine were there. Or anyone, actually. School is over; it's just him and Karofsky in the empty hallway.

"What do you want?" Kurt is proud of how his voice doesn't shake even though his knees feel like collapsing out from under him. He sucks in a startled breath when Karofsky crowds him into the locker, surrounds him with the stench of sweat and the boys' locker room.

"I just wanna say," Karofsky drops his voice into a dangerous tone. "That if you ever tell anyone what happened in the locker room? I'll kill you."

Kurt stops breathing. Karofsky is close, too close, almost kissing distance. He presses back into the cold metal, suddenly wishing he could melt into the lockers like one of the X-Men from Finn's comics. In that moment, Kurt doesn't doubt Karofsky. Karofsky is scared, which Kurt can understand. And scared people do desperate things.

But as often as Kurt sometimes considers suicide, he's not ready to die.

So he nods, though the cold tendril of fear wrapped around his heart doesn't go away, even after Karofsky mutters a quiet "Good," and walks out.

Kurt stares into space, tired and exhausted.

He has too many secrets.

Too many feelings.

And not all of them are his.

Kurt fires off a text to Blaine.

When you get out, I need you.

He walks to his car to wait for Blaine's detention to end. He slides in to the driver's seat. After a few seconds' consideration, he locks the doors, mindful of how close he'd parked to the gym entrance.

For the first time in several months, Kurt cries during the day.

Kurt is scared.

He hasn't told Blaine what happened, though sometimes he suspects Blaine knows something went down the day Kurt called him, crying and begging for a song. They don't talk about that. Kurt's grateful.

Blaine glares at Karofsky all the time. And Blaine touches him more, always knocking his shoulders or rubbing his back, like he wants Kurt to realize not all touches can be bad or filled with hate. He frowns the first few times when Kurt almost jumps out of his skin, but then Kurt feels himself getting used to Blaine. Actually, Blaine is the only person that could sneak up on Kurt without a minor freak out.

Kurt hates himself.

Karofsky hasn't stopped. He still throws Kurt into the lockers and the dumpsters, which Kurt can handle. No, it's the touches and the looks that terrify Kurt.

He has no idea what Karofsky is going to do. As the touches get increasingly bold, both in violence and reverence, Kurt finds himself latching on to other people. He tries not to walk down the halls alone, always finding Blaine or Rachel or Finn.

Blaine is the safest.

After the beatdown Blaine gave the football players, none of them want to mess with him again. And Blaine enjoys being the knight in shining armor. While Kurt has accepted the fact that he is weak, Kurt hates having to depend on Blaine for protection.

He's not a girl.

He's not a princess.

But fuck, sometimes it's really hard to keep on walking tall.

Kurt feels his walls building up again. He hardly talks anymore, though he tries to be normal with Blaine. He's probably not doing a good job though, because sometimes while watching a movie at Kurt's house (it's always Kurt's house; Blaine never goes home unless he has to and Kurt wonders but it's not his business so he lets it go), Blaine will stop and give Kurt long, searching looks. Kurt pretends not to notice.

He's been doing a lot of pretending lately.

The nights are the worst. In school, at least he is surrounded by other people. Kurt can focus on the lessons, on talking to Blaine, on dealing Rachel's latest fuck-up in regards to her and Finn's relationship.

But huddled deep under his covers, when everything thing is dark and lonely, the nightmares come.

They vary. Most have Karofsky. Some are the locker room, but this time Karofsky doesn't stop, just keeps going, keeps kissing him and going further; in some Karofsky finds him after school and hurts him and no one hears Kurt screaming, everyone keeps walking by.

I'll kill you.

In Kurt's dreams, Karofsky follows through.

He begins to wake up with his face pressed into his pillow to muffle his screams, heart pounding and eyes red with tears. Kurt goes through cover-up like crazy to hide the bags under his eyes and the bruises.

It had been getting better.

It had been.

But now Kurt feels like he's right back to where he started.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Kurt isn't sleeping. It's one in the morning, and he hasn't even tried. He's sketching a few designs, trying to get his mind exhausted enough to not dream. But then there are taps on his window.

Tap.

Kurt opens it and leans out into the chilly night. And blinks.

"Blaine?"

Blaine is standing under his window with a pinecone in each hand. When he sees Kurt leaning out, he grins in the moonlight. "Hey!" Blaine waves. "Can I come up?"

Confused, Kurt just nods. He shuts the window and hurries down the stairs, careful to keep quiet as he passes Finn's and his dad's and step-mom's room. When he opens the front door, Blaine is barely inside before he throws himself in Kurt's arms and buries his face in Kurt's neck.

"I missed you."

"We just saw each other like, five hours ago. You ate dinner with us."

Blaine shrugs against Kurt, shoulders tense. Kurt can smell a faint scent of leather and cigarettes and Blaine. He breathes deep and hugs Blaine a little closer. Blaine sighs happily. "Doesn't matter. Still missed you."

It's getting really, really hard to not fall for this boy.

Kurt shoves his feelings back in a tiny box in the back of his heart. "Let's go to my room before Dad finds us and shoots you." Kurt giggles at Blaine's face. "I'm kidding. His shotgun is in storage."

"That's not funny," Blaine mutters grumpily, but follows Kurt, avoiding the creaky fourth stair and the spot next to Finn's room that always groans if it's stepped on.

Kurt wonders what the hell Blaine's doing. It's a Friday night. Blaine has to have better things to do than sneak into the school's resident punching bag's bedroom and flop on his bed and snuggle into Kurt's admittedly amazing pillows.

"I love your pillows," Blaine giggles as he squeezes a particularly fluffy white one. He kicks off his boots and sits on Kurt's bed cross legged. "Oh hey, you design clothes?" Blaine abandons the pillows in favor of Kurt's half finished sketches.

Closing the door, Kurt tries not to panic. Why the hell hadn't he moved those before going downstairs? No one has ever seen his designs. No one. They were stupid.

"Kurt, stop freaking out. These are amazing." Kurt lets out a shaky laugh and climbs on the bed. He sits in front of Blaine and watches his friend flip through his sketchbook. Blaine is careful, only touching the edges of the pages so he doesn't smudge the drawings. His eyes are wide with wonder and his mouth is pulled up in a small smile.

"It's a little unsettling how easy you can read me." Kurt doesn't watch Blaine's strong hands. Or the way the white shirt pulls on his muscles. Blaine is a friend. Just a friend.

But it's hard to remember this when Blaine smirks and rubs Kurt's knee. "I'm learning." His hazel eyes twinkle merrily.

Blaine studies all of Kurt's designs, even making Kurt explain a few. And he listens. Kurt can almost forget what a fuck up he is when he's around Blaine. Blaine makes him feel special and important and like he matters.

Not like Karofsky. Kurt shivers and tells Blaine about his ideal fashion show, right down to the catwalk music and the order of the lights. Blaine shakes his head and laughs.

Hours later, they lay on Kurt's bed in a darkened room. By unspoken agreement, Blaine is sleeping over. Kurt wants to ask why Blaine didn't want to stay at his own house, but. Kurt had so many secrets; he could afford to let Blaine keep a few.

He wonders if Blaine's asleep.

He wonders if he'll have a nightmare tonight.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?" They're quiet. Kurt feels Blaine shift next to him until Blaine is on his side, looking directly at Kurt. His eyes are narrowed, like he's trying to solve a particularly hard problem. They're worried.

"Can I ask you something?"

Kurt heart is in his throat, pounding and choking him. Blaine knows. Kurt doesn't answer.

It doesn't faze Blaine.

"I'd really like for you to talk to me about what happened on Tuesday." Blaine rubs his knuckles gently. "Something upset you. And you're scared."

"I'm always scared, Blaine." Kurt swallows the lump in his throat. He will not cry.

Blaine shifts closer, holding Kurt's hand tightly. This close, Kurt can see the emotions in Blaine's eyes. He sees worry, and care, and fear.

Why is Blaine scared?

"Kurt, please, please talk to me. I want to help you." Blaine whispers.

Kurt shakes his head but he can't look away from Blaine's eyes. "No. No. I'm not worth it."

Karofsky used me.

I'm just a thing.

I'm weak.

Dirty.

Useless.

You can do better.

He jumps at Blaine's sudden growl. "Stop that. You are. You're so worth it, why can't you see that?"

Kurt can't answer. But maybe he should tell Blaine. Get it all out there so he can get over this stupid crush and Blaine can leave him. Like everyone else did.

"Okay." Kurt wets his suddenly dry lips. It's hard; it's too hard to say these words. Because now that he's decided to tell Blaine, he realizes how much he wants Blaine to stay. But he is a Hummel. And Hummels are men of their word.

Blaine is close now. Kurt squeezes his hand.

"I was waiting for you. After you got your phone taken away by Liptak."

The words tumble out of Kurt's mouth, finally released from days of being bottled up and hidden away. Kurt tries not to notice how Blaine clenches his teeth or a balls one of his hands into a fist like he wants to punch something. And then Blaine doesn't pull away, doesn't recoil in disgust, just draws Kurt in and rubs his back until Kurt's hitching breaths and chest-wracking sobs calm down.

The sun comes up, painting Kurt's room with soft reds and yellows.

"I ruined your shirt."

Blaine snorts. "I really don't care, Kurt."

Kurt is silent, absently running his fingers over Blaine's shoulder.

Friends don't do this, right? Kurt ignores his brain and presses his face into Blaine's arm, grounding himself in Blaine's scent.

"Sometimes I hate myself," Kurt admits. His words are slightly muffled from the fabric, but Blaine hears him. Blaine shifts, pushing Kurt off enough to look at him.

"Why?"

Blaine is angry. Eyes flashing, muscles tense, mouth frowning.

How can Kurt explain this? "I'm tired of crying. Of being scared all the time." Kurt shifts in closer. "I don't want be broken anymore." His eyes are burning again, and Kurt wants to scream.

Blaine pushes Kurt into a sitting position silently. He puts his hands on Kurt's shoulder, firm and strong and confident. "Listen to me," he says. "Do you trust me?"

Kurt thinks, but he really doesn't have to. "Yeah," he says, meeting Blaine's intense hazel eyes. In the dawning light, they're more gold than brown, with beautiful green flecks strewn throughout. Blaine is lovely.

The answer makes Blaine smile. "Okay," he breathes. "Kurt, you are so strong and so brave. And you're not broken." Blaine is so sure; Kurt doesn't want to change his mind. Even if it's all a lie.

"I feel pretty damn broken, Blaine."

But Blaine just shakes his head and smiles sadly. "You aren't broken. Just a little lost." He leans in, and Kurt's breath hitches for a second. "You can find your way back. And I'm going to be right here."