Winter break comes fast.

Kurt hasn't told his dad anything about Karofsky, and Blaine's long since given up on forcing him to. But school's out for two blessed weeks, and Kurt has every intention of milking his freedom for all it's worth. Some of his bruises might even start to heal.

Karofsky watches as Kurt walks out the door. Kurt's skin crawls under his gaze and he presses closer to Blaine. His nose has healed, but it's slightly crooked now. He tells everyone he got it in a bar fight, as if that makes him a badass. Even Puckerman is cowed for a few days before he hijacks the announcement system and gets halfway through burping the Star-Spangled Banner before Coach Sylvester breaks down the door. He reclaims his King Badass crown, and Karofsky goes back to being just some dumb jock to the rest of school. Only at McKinley.

But it's halfway through December with Christmas a week away and all at once, Kurt's free from hours of school and friends and him. It's such a relief, the last day of school; walking out of the doors and into the snow.

"So I was thinking." Blaine says, leaning against Kurt's car. He never takes his anymore. He hardly goes home, preferring to stick to Kurt like glue.

"That's dangerous." Kurt quips, smiling faintly. God, it's freezing. He quickly unlocks the door and slides in, sighing at the slight warmth.

"Hilarious, Hummel." Blaine snorts and climbs into the passenger seat. "Anyway, I have a bunch of movies you need to watch, so I thought we could have a movie marathon. And you can make us cookies." He grins at Kurt. "Hey, come on, I'm serious! It'll be fun!"

Kurt rolls his eyes and starts the car, pulling out slowly. "The last time I trusted you with a movie, you put on Kill Bill."

"It's a fantastic movie, Kurt, you know that."

"She stepped on her eye, oh my god, Blaine—"

"That was the second one! And Tarantino is classic, even you admitted it!"

"Her eye, Blaine!" Kurt laughs at Blaine's insulted expression. The movie scarred him for life. Eye injuries freak him out. "If you promise me no blood, maybe."

Blaine groans. "But that is so restrictive, some movies are great with a little—Kurt, watch out!" Blaine shouts.

Kurt slams on the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt in front of David Karofsky. Kurt stares at his cold eyes, heart pounding. After a few seconds, Karofsky winks, then continues walking across the parking lot.

"Kurt? Do you want me to drive?" Blaine was looking at Kurt's shaking hands. Kurt nods jerkily. He can't drive, not like this. Blaine switches seats with him, and Kurt draws his knees up to his chest and looks out the window. The light-hearted air is gone.

Hiding from Karofsky is actually harder now than at school.

At least during school, Kurt has a vague idea of where he is. Now, though, Karofsky shows up everywhere. The supermarket, the mall, the movie theater. Always just watching. Staring.

Kurt starts getting nightmares. He wakes up muffling screams into his pillow, sometimes calling Blaine if Blaine isn't already there. It takes Blaine hours to calm Kurt down. He sings until he's hoarse, but doesn't leave. Kurt falls more in love with him every time.

He thinks he's going crazy.

Any sudden movement near him; and Kurt screams. Everyone startles him, even Blaine sometimes. He expects to see Karofsky's hulking frame in every shadow, behind every door.

"I'm going crazy," Kurt whispers to Blaine one night. They're curled up in Kurt's bed after Kurt had another nightmare. Blaine will have to sneak back downstairs in a few hours, but for now, they huddle together under the covers. Blaine holds him tight, but Kurt still trembles.

"The offer to beat the shit out of him still stands." Blaine says. His voice is hard.

Kurt hasn't told Blaine what the nightmares are about, but Blaine isn't stupid. He sees Karofsky following them around Lima. But Kurt won't let him tell Karofsky to back off. Blaine hates it, but he thinks that Kurt needs a little control. So if he can give Kurt this, he will. But he doesn't want Karofsky near them.

"No."

"We need to tell your dad."

"No!"

"Dammit, Kurt!" Blaine sounds angry. "You can't live like this! It's not fair to you!" Silence. "Please, Kurt. Please."

"No." Kurt shakes his head. "I can't." Blaine is quiet for a long time. He slips out of the bed a few hours later. Kurt hears the front door slam and rolls on his back with a sigh.

Fuck.

On Christmas morning, Kurt opens the front door after a minute of incessant ringing.

"I swear for the love of Christ someone better be dying, you inconsiderate Neander—Blaine!" Kurt stares at his best friend in shock.

He has a truly spectacular black eye and dark bruises around his neck, but Blaine is grinning, like life couldn't be any better. Behind him stands a small woman with the same dark hair, but sad green eyes. Her cheek is discolored. She holds out a tray of cookies and Kurt remembers to take them. They look delicious, covered in holiday themed frosting and sprinkles.

Blaine hugs Kurt, bouncing up and down and nearly upsetting the cookies until his mother (she has to be his mother, they looked like siblings) pulls him off and reminds him of his manners. "I tried to make him wait until a decent hour, but I'm sure you know Blaine," She smiles awkwardly at Kurt. "I'm Mary. Mary Anderson."

It was barely nine in the morning; Kurt is honestly surprised she got Blaine to wait that long. "I'm Kurt. Hummel." He shakes her hand in a daze. Then he remembers they're standing out in the cold and he hurriedly steps aside. "I'm so sorry, come in, you must be freezing," he says, trying to shoot Blaine a look.

Why the hell are the Anderson's at his door at nine am Christmas morning?

Finn pokes his head out of the kitchen. "Oh hey, Blaine, we're eating pancakes! You hungry?" he calls out. Somehow, the sight of Blaine doesn't even faze him.

"Fuck yes, Carole makes the best pancakes!" Blaine strips off his coat and takes his mother's, hanging them in the hallway closet without a second thought. He runs into the kitchen, leaving Mary and Kurt alone.

Well this is awkward. Kurt just looks at the woman in front of him as she shifts comfortably. From the kitchen, he hears Carole's surprised squeal and Burt's unimpressed grunt. "Um. Welcome to the Hummel-Hudson's?" Kurt tries to smile. "The kitchen is just, um. Where Blaine went." He gestures with his elbow as best he could.

"Thank you," Mary forces a smile and follows her son's footsteps, Kurt close behind.

Blaine had better have a damn good explanation for why he and his mother showed up unannounced like this.

The kitchen is a bustle of activity. Finn and Blaine are already devouring a stack of pancakes at the table while Burt nurses a coffee at the island. Carole flips more pancakes while admonishing the boys to slow down, for heaven's sake, before you both choke! It's so normal, Kurt wants to scream. He leaves Mary in the entryway and slips around her to put the cookies down. Burt shoots him a look, but Kurt just shrugs. Luckily, Carole notices the woman and her expression softens.

"Do you want some coffee, honey? There's still some in the pot," she says kindly as she finishes the pancakes. "Have a seat, sweetie, you look exhausted."

Mary did look tired, and Blaine is out of his seat and helping her sit down before she could move. Carole places a mug in front of her, followed by sugar and creamer. Mary stares at the mug, and then Kurt recognizes her expression.

Shock.

Exhaustion.

Relief.

It's how he felt after he beat Karofsky in the bathroom.

"Did you leave your husband, Mrs. Anderson?" Kurt asks quietly. The room falls silent.

She nods, slow and jerky. "I came home early from work last night. To be with my family." She sips from the mug with shaky fingers as Blaine rubs her back. Just like he does for Kurt. "And. I saw him." Her eyes slide to Blaine and begin to water. "Robert lied to me. He swore he'd stop, but. He was beating my son."

"Dad," Kurt says quietly, putting a hand out to stop his dad from driving to the Anderson's and beating her husband. Burt clenches his teeth, but remains sitting. Finn's mouth is open, but Carole has a hand pressed tight to her own as the story comes out.

"He. He hit me when I tried to stop him. So I threw him out." Mary lets out a shaky laugh. "I threw him out again, but we—we couldn't stay there, but I had nowhere else to go." Her eyes find Carole. "It's Christmas. Where can we go?"

Blaine breaks in. "I'm sorry for barging in on your holiday." Kurt marvels at how, even with all those piercings and the ripped jeans, Blaine can look so young. "But—I just didn't have anyone else—it's the holidays, all the hotels are booked, and we're new here," Blaine rambles.

Kurt decides to put him out of his misery. "Blaine, stop. It's fine." He smiles at them. "We'd love to have you spend Christmas with us. You're family, too."

Blaine looks uncertain, but then Carole hugs him tight and practically force-feeds him more pancakes, and Blaine is powerless against her cooking. Kurt's not completely sure Finn understands what happened, but he tries to talk to Mary and makes her laugh a few times, so the giant oaf is apparently good for something. And Blaine looks like the sun when Burt ruffles his hair on the way to the table and asks Blaine to pass the milk, son.

While his life may be in shambles, Kurt kind of loves his family.

Later that night, he and Blaine sit in front of the fire, wrapped in blankets. There's some Christmas movie on, but neither pay attention. Mary is sleeping in Kurt's room and he and Blaine are sharing the living room. The rest of the house went to sleep hours before.

The fire crackles and pops as Kurt watches the flames.

"What's your mom going to do?" Kurt breaks the silence.

Blaine shrugs. "We talked about it a little this morning. Before we came." He twists until he's on his side, facing Kurt. "She's going to meet with her lawyer on Monday. Get a divorce. Get a restraining order." Blaine's voice drops. "She's going to wait to see how cooperative he's going to be before deciding about pursuing assault charges."

Kurt whistles lowly. "Your father's in deep shit."

"No kidding," Blaine laughs. He quiets, searching Kurt's face. "I'm free." He says with wonder.

"Yeah." Kurt tries not to be jealous. It doesn't work very well.

"You still won't tell anyone about the jock, will you?" The resignation in Blaine's voice puts Kurt on edge.

"No." He whispers.

"God, you Hummels are stubborn." Blaine grumbles. "Fine. I let you slack off over break, but tomorrow, we resume training."

Kurt frowns. "Boxing?"

"Boxing." Blaine grins. "Best of all, we won't have to go out in public. I have a heavy bag and a treadmill in my basement we can use, now that the bastard is gone." He cackles. "I'm gonna run you ragged, Hummel."

Groaning at the thought of how much he's going to sweat, Kurt buries his head in his pillow. But laughs. He peaks over his arm to see Blaine looking at him fondly.

Just a friend, just a friend, just a friend…

"I'm glad you came here for Christmas," Kurt says. He means it. It was his first Christmas with more than just his father in years, and it was more fun than he ever could have imagined. Blaine didn't seem to mind the lack of presents; he got enough fun playing with Kurt's until Kurt threatened to strangle him with his new designer scarves if Blaine couldn't keep the cookie crumbs away from his wardrobe. Even Mary lightened up when Finn nearly knocked the tree over after jumping to his feet when he unwrapped the new Call of Duty Xbox game. There's something about a tall sixteen-year-old covered in tinsel that makes parents howl with laughter. And his dad looked so happy to have Carole by his side; Kurt could push away the thoughts of his mother missing for just a few hours.

Blaine held him when he broke down later and confessed his fears of forgetting her and her traditions. Then they made the peppermint hot chocolate she loved, just the way Kurt remembered, which set Kurt off again, and well.

Kurt was just really happy to have Blaine with him.

In the firelight, Blaine lightly smacks Kurt's shoulder before grabbing his hand. "This was my favorite Christmas so far." He says with a soft smile. They lay for a few more minutes. Then—

"Wanna go steal the last few cookies before Finn does?"

"Fuck, yes, Hummel, knew I liked you for a reason!"

They giggle as they sneak into the darkened kitchen and share the remaining sugar cookies.

Finn will be pissed in the morning, but.

It's Christmas. And they're still here.