Quinn turned on the mattress. It was the most comfortable mattress she’d ever slept on, but she just couldn’t sleep.

  It’d been two weeks since she moved out from the little shithole of apartment she and Kurt had shared for the last three years. She never thought she’d miss it. But, she did. Almost at least. She missed Kurt. She’d barely seen him in school since she left. And she knew how hard he’d taken the fact that she’d so suddenly moved out, even though he’d never show it.

  Santana’s mother was much nicer to Quinn than she’d ever been before. Maybe it was because she was pregnant, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Marible Lopez was a pretty short woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She had the ability to go from super sweet to, almost literally, a monster in the matter of seconds. She ignored the fact that her daughter was gay, which may seem like something more pleasant than beating her up or throwing her out of the house. But Santana really didn’t think so. She was so tired of her mother asking if she’d met any nice boys lately, and when she angrily said that ‘no mom, I have a girlfriend’, Marible always just smiled and asked for his name and if she’d ever get to meet this boy. It almost fascinated Quinn how she was able to do it. And what fascinated her more was that she’d agreed on living in the same house as her, and that, from time to time, Quinn almost liked her. But then she always remembered how she treated Santana, and she immediately stopped. 

  She was about seven weeks in now, and felt like she was getting bigger. She knew she wasn’t, she’d read somewhere that you usually didn’t start to show before 12-16 weeks in. She had no idea what she was supposed to do then. It was her senior year, so she couldn’t really just stop going to school. And, even more important, a lot of her clothes wouldn’t fit her anymore. That she didn’t feel too great about. It was so damn hard to find clothes she liked, and to be able to steal them without having to risk being caught was even harder. But, it was life, she guessed. She’d just try and forget it for the moment being, and then try to work out a better solution when she had to.

  What Kurt had told her when he’d found out she was pregnant back in October, about maybe she should wait with getting a kid until she’d at least finished high school, was starting to make sense now. But Quinn knew she could never get an abortion. She just couldn’t. But still, what if she’d regret it horribly when it was already too late? What was she supposed to do then?

Kurt had told her how many teen moms ended up giving up their child once they found out how hard it was to take care of a baby. What if she ended up becoming one of those failures? What if Kurt had been right from the start?

   Thinking of Kurt was it for her, she sat up on her mattress (Marible had wanted to buy her a real bed, but Quinn had refused) and looked over to where Santana was sleeping in her queen sized bed, looking so relaxed and peaceful. Could she wake her? Or would she just get angry?

  “Santana?” she whispered hesitantly. The girl groaned in her sleep and turned around.

 “San?” Quinn whispered, a tiny bit louder. Santana groaned again and came back to life, rubbing her eyes sleepily before she squinted at her, looking like a sleepy five year old.

 “Wha...?” she said, voice a little hoarse.

 “I don’t know what to do.” Quinn whined. “I can’t sleep.”

Santana sat up in her bed and ran a hand through her messy hair. “Come here you baby.” she said, patting beside her on the bed. “Bring your pillow.”

The girl did, and once she was sitting next to her new roommate, she looked at her, wide awake.

 “What’s wrong with you?” Santana asked and Quinn cracked a little smile.

 “Can’t sleep.”

 “Yeah,” She yawed. “Got that part. But why?”

 “Dunno… I just feel bad, for Kurt I mean.” She hugged her pillow in her arms, feeling like a child.

 “Why?”

 “Because I left him all alone and I know how hard that must be for him.” She spoke way faster than needed. “And it makes me feel really egoistic, like maybe I was just thinking about myself and not about Kurt. And how could I do that after all we’ve been through and –“

 “Okay, that’s quite enough.” Santana ran a hand through her hair again. “And I want you to listen to me –like actually listen, ‘cause you haven’t the past week.” Quinn smiled, feeling a little guilty. Had she actually woken her up every day, or more like night, this last week? That hadn’t been planned.

 “You’re having a kid.” Santana blinked slowly, clearly still half asleep. “I’ve got no idea why, but you are. And you know that you couldn’t have stayed there. It’s fuckin’ freezing there now during the winter, and you know that –“

 “Yeah, exactly, I know that. So how could I just leave Kurt there all by himself –“

 “Because you know that even though he might take it pretty hard at the moment, he’ll forgive you, eventually at least. ‘Cause as hard as he might try and hide it, that gay really has a heart of pure gold.”

 “How can you be practically talking in your sleep and still make sense?”

 “Because I’m a genius.” she beamed, eyes closed, and Quinn laughed shortly.

 “Now, lay down.” she instructed, doing so herself and once again patting beside her on the bed.

 “You sure?” Quinn asked.

 “Shut up and lay down.”

 Quinn, rolling her eyes, placed her pillow down on the bed, a bit away from the other girl so she wouldn’t end up being in the way, and slowly lay down.

 “I hate you sometimes.” Santana yawned, scooting closer.

  They ended up spooning, and Quinn found out that that actually really made it easier to fall asleep. But just before she did, she couldn’t help but imagine Kurt standing by the end of the bed, snorting at them, telling her that,

 “Stop being so gay, Quinn.”

  “No way.”

 “Why not? Come on.”

 “No.”

 “Why?”

  The two of them had reached the driveway outside the little house. They were standing by the car, and Blaine wanted to come inside, but Kurt wouldn’t let him.

 “So I’m just gonna walk home now?” he tried. Kurt snorted.

 “Well you were the one who wanted to drive me home, right?”

 “Yes, well, I wanted to drive you home and get to see where you lived.”

Blaine had walked to Scandals that night, hoping that he’d see Kurt and get to drive him home.

 “Well, you can forget it.”

 “Why?”

 “There’s nothing to see.”

 “You’ve seen my house.”

 “Yeah, well, at least you have a house.”

 “What do you mean?”

Kurt let out a little laugh and looked around him. “You’ve seen where we are, right?”

 “Uh-huh.”

 “This is like the shittiest part of whole Lima. You live in one if the fanciest. I won’t let you laugh at how I live.”

 “I won’t laugh.” Blaine promised, truthfully.

 “Then you’ll feel sorry for me or some shit like that.”

 “Come on. No comments, I swear.”

 “No.”

 “Fuck you.”

 “Whatever.”

 “I let you sleep in my bed. I let you borrow some of my clothes.”

 “Yeah, and those were all your choices, it won’t make me feel guilty if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

   Blaine finally gave up; it was obvious that he wasn’t getting anywhere. He turned around, ready to walk home, not minding one bit actually.

  “I guess I should, uh… return your clothes.” Kurt said then. Blaine stopped.

 “Sure.” He walked back the few steps he’d walked.

 “You still won’t get to come inside.” Kurt stated firmly, then told him to wait, and jogged up to the house, which looked as if it could fall apart at any second.

  The second he closed the door behind him, Blaine felt as if the air outside became ten times colder. There was a dog barking in the distance, and somewhere pretty close by a car alarm screamed. The streetlights flickered and buzzed quietly. The whole street looked like it came from a movie. He guessed that this had to be the part of town where the hookers and refugees lived, if there were any in Lima that was, which he was pretty sure there had to be. Or, this was the street where teenagers without a family had a roof above their heads.

  It looked like absolutely no one cared for this place. All the lawns were dead and muddy, there were no lights in any of the windows, (though that could’ve been because it was the middle of the night) no fancy cars stood parked in the driveways. It looked like most of the houses were no bigger than two or three rooms each, and lots of them were missing actual panes in their windows. It made him feel sick that these places actually existed.

   Blaine turned around, and without thinking about it, he walked up to the house that Kurt had disappeared into. He’d totally forgotten the clear orders that he couldn’t come inside.

  “Oupf,” he grunted, running into Kurt just as he’d opened the door and stepped inside.

 “What the fuck, I told you not to come inside,” Kurt was clearly upset, and when Blaine looked into his eyes, he could’ve sworn that they were flickering a little with insecurity.

 “I’m sorry, I sorta just forgot I didn’t –” Blaine fell silent.

Woah. Did Kurt actually live there? For real, real?

 There was only just one room as far as he could see, which was lit up by a little lamp that seemed to be running on batteries standing on the floor by two raggedy mattresses placed on top of each other. They looked extremely bumpy and uncomfortable. Worse than his living room couch, even.

 There was a small built in closet about a meter from what he guessed was Kurt’s ‘bed’. One of the doors was missing, and the one still there was hanging from one hinge. There were a small amount of clothes on the floor in front of it.

 The wallpaper was in many places damaged or gone. There were emptied cans of beer and liquor bottles scattered literally everywhere.

 On the other side of the room there was a sink, which was in the same state as the rest of the house. (if you could even call it a house) There was a door in the far corner; Blaine guessed that that had to lead to what little bathroom this place had.

 It was cold and dark and the exact opposite from cozy. He couldn’t imagine having to live in such a place.

   Blaine looked back at Kurt, whom had obviously noticed that the shorter boy had eyed his home thoroughly. He looked at him with so much anger it almost looked like he was going to burst. But there was also something that looked a lot like shame in his eyes, though he did a good job hiding it; just like he always did with everything.

   “Kurt –“

 “Get the fuck out right now.” he hissed.

 “I won’t judge, I promise –just let me in for one second, please?”

 “Why are you so god damned fucking pushy all the time all of a sudden?”

Blaine gave a half smile. “I don’t know, really. I think it’d because I kinda want to be your friend.”

 “My friend?”

 “Yes.” Blaine said honestly.

 “And why the hell would you want to be my friend?” He snorted, looked down for a tiny second, then back up at Blaine.

 “Because –“ Blaine stopped. The look in Kurt’s eye was nothing but heartbreaking. Of course, he still tried to hide whatever he felt, but of some reason Blaine could just see right through him.

 Kurt’s question… he’d been serious, deep down. He honestly couldn’t understand why Blaine wanted to be friends with him. It hadn’t only been some comment he’d said to put him on the spot or whatever. He’d really meant it. And though his intentions may not have been for Blaine to actually notice this, he had. And that just…

 “Can I just come in please?”

 “…Fuck you.” he sighed. “If you stop being so needy.” Kurt said finally, stepping out of the way, very hesitantly so. “Needy guys are such a turn off.” he muttered then and a smirk pulled in the corner of Blaine’s mouth.

  Kurt walked back inside and plopped down on his ‘bed. Blaine ended up on the floor next to it, just below one if the windows –which was more of a hole in the wall with old magazines taped over it on the inside, and planks on the outside. The floor was extremely cold and… hard. Though floors were usually hard as far as Blaine knew; and he could cope with the cold part just fine.

 “I –“

 “Know what you're gonna say.” Kurt finished his sentence. “Everyone who’s been here does. ‘It’s not good to live like this.’ ‘You shouldn’t drink the water.’ ‘You should get more clothes to keep you warm during the winter.’ ‘You should see so you could get more food.’ ‘If you just talked to someone who handled this kind of stuff you’d get a much better home.’” His voice was high-pitched as he repeated all the things that apparently everyone always said.

 “Blah, blah, fucking blah. I know. Save it.”

 Blaine was for a short moment not sure what to say.

 “…I wasn’t about to say any of those things.” he decided with then, being completely honest. Honesty worked fine at the moment.

 “You weren’t?” He seemed surprised.

 “No.” He smiled quickly. “I was going to say that –wow, how can you live like this? I mean, you’re a disgrace to the whole gay community.” His face was completely serious. Kurt sort of snorted, but kind of laughed at the same time. It was a pretty funny noise, and it made Blaine smile a little as well.

 “I know, I’m sorry, you caught me. I was dreading this day to come. Go ahead, kick me out. I’m ready for it.” He screwed his eyes shut tightly, playing along. It made Blaine… happy that he did.

 “Honestly though… Doesn’t it get awfully lonely and boring in a place like this?” Blaine decided to ask, smile slowly fading away from his face.

 The room was very dim, since all there was to illuminate it was the little lamp on the floor about a foot from the mattresses, which really sucked at being a lamp. It casted weird shadows over Kurt’s face. It almost made him look… weirdly sort of more attractive than usual.

Blaine didn’t even mind the thought going through his mind. He’d gotten used to it, and more than that, he'd gotten tired of denying the fact that Kurt Hummel really was an attractive son of a bitch. Even a blind person could see that. Or, maybe not, but yeah; It sounded good to Blaine at least.

  Kurt didn’t answer the question for quite a while. He just sort of sat there, staring at something that seemed to be very far away.

 “It does, yeah.” His voice was low and he spoke slowly, still staring at that thing so far away. “And it’s worse now.”

 “Why?” Blaine tried.

 “I’m alone.” Kurt wasn’t there in the room anymore, at least it didn’t look like it. But Blaine didn’t mind, because maybe now he would finally get some answers to some of his insane questions.

 “She left me. Everyone always leaves me. She left me. All because of that stupid baby.”

Blaine understood as far as to that ‘she’ was Quinn. He knew they lived together, and had actually thought of the possibility that she’d moved out. But that she was pregnant? Quinn? Quinn Fabray? No. That didn’t add up in his mind.

  “Isn’t there anyone else? Anyone you could turn to right now?” He was really poking the sleeping dragon a lot harder than he should, and he was starting to fear that it’d wake up very, very soon.

 “No.” Kurt’s voice stayed low, stayed as if what he was saying was played in slow motion. Adding the light and the shadows in the room, it was rather spooky. Not oh-help-me-I-won’t-be-able-to-sleep-tonight spooky or anything like that, just –spooky.

 “Why not?”

 “They’re dead… All of them… Everyone just… died.”

   Blaine decided that, now he was done pressing his luck, so he stayed silent. For a moment he thought about leaving, because if he knew one thing about Kurt, it was that he didn’t like it one bit when he realized someone knew something that he didn’t want them to know. Especially if it was his fault they knew. But, the boy on the supposed bed suddenly shook his head, then, when he saw Blaine sitting there, he stared at him, eyes a little wider than usual.

 “Did I just say all those things out loud?” he said quietly. Blaine hesitated for a second, then nodded slowly.

 “Fuck.” he hissed, then looked at Blaine again. “How do you do that?” he asked, almost seeming a little desperate.

 “How do I do what?”

 “How do you…“ He stopped for a moment, seeking the right words. “Keep… fishing information out of me?”

 “I guess I’m just really pushy?” He tried to joke, but Kurt shook his head. It seemed like he was getting a bit upset, but not at Blaine.

 “No.” he said. “No, that’s not it. That doesn’t help.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “I mean that being on my case about something doesn’t make me tell you what you want to know. Not normally.”

 “No?”

 “No.” It seemed as if though the one he was getting upset at was himself. “I mean I’ve lived, like actually lived, with Quinn for almost three years, and she doesn’t know too much about stuff. Not like you know more or anything, things have just gone… faster with you. A hell of a lot faster.”

 “Isn’t that good?”

 “How the hell’s that good?”

 “I don’t know –doesn’t it feel good to… I don’t know, talk?”

 “No.” He shook his head and chuckled a rather sad sounding chuckle. “It feels about as far away from good as you can get.”

 “Why?”

 “Because when I talk about things, I remember. And I hate remembering.”

 Kurt let out a little laugh then, Blaine tilted his head questioningly.

 “See?” he said. “There. I did it again.”

 “Did what?”

 “Told you! You asked me, and I just –told you. I don’t do that.”

Blaine didn’t respond, he couldn’t find the right words. Kurt didn’t say anything either. They just sat silently for almost five long minutes before one of them spoke again;

  “I…” Kurt stared into the wall on the other side of the room. “In the beginning, just when you were new at school, I never called you by your name, remember?” he said softly.

 “Of course I do, you called me Frodo.”

 “Yeah. Know why?”

 “’Cause you couldn’t find anything better?”

 “’Cause my brother was named Blaine. That’s what I meant when I said that Blaine was sleeping.

“I didn’t like it one bit that you had his name; didn’t think that that name was yours, felt like you’d stolen it from him.”

 “Kurt, there’s –I don’t know how many Blaines out there in the world.”

 “I know.” He let out a one breath chuckle. “But I don’t have to meet them. But I had to meet you. And you came to my school and made people know who you were so quickly and I…”

 Blaine’s heart beat fast and in his chest. What had made Kurt chose to open up a little all of a sudden, he had no idea. But he was glad it was finally happening.

 “I hated you.” Kurt said quietly. “I really did. And I'm pretty sure you hated me as well.”

 “Maybe a little.”

 “And you just drive me fucking crazy with the way you always just keep your voice so quiet and normal, and how you always just smile and walk away like nothing faces you. I can’t do that, and I hate that you can.”

 “It’s not… it’s not that nothing faces me, ‘cause believe me, they do. I just… I’ve made enough damage.”

 “And I haven’t?” Kurt laughed, then turned to face the other boy again. “Blaine, I’ve sent people to hospital ‘cause I’ve beaten them up that badly. So don’t tell me you’ve done enough damage.”

  The room fell silent again. The two of them just sat there, staring at each other, neither boy able to look away or say another word.  

  “I… almost killed someone.” Blaine’s voice was dangerously close to crack; he hadn’t spoken about this with anyone but the guidance counselor he’d been forced to go to after the whole thing. He didn’t know why, but somehow this seemed like a good first time to tell someone else, with Kurt finally deciding to tell him something and everything.

  Kurt didn’t say anything. Either he just simply didn’t care, or he was just giving Blaine the space to take his time to try and find what he was going to say next.

  “I got off the hook completely though, the judges miraculously decided that what had happened had simply been self-defense.” he chuckled, feeling the hollow feeling in his stomach coming back.

 “I’m sure you heard about it, it was in the newspaper and everything. The whole gay bashing business? Last spring? Boy almost beaten to death after being jumped on the way home by six guys, five of which he went to the same school with?”

  “…That was you?” And again, even though Kurt tried to hide it, and though the room was so badly lit, Blaine could see that he was closed to shocked to get to know this.

 “It was.” he nodded. “And I was also the one who blinded one of them and put another in a wheelchair.”

 “So you’ve been holding back on me, huh? I’m offended.” Kurt smiled faintly.

 “No, not really, I just got… lucky that time, I guess. Though I’m not really proud of it.”

 “Why?”

 “The one who’s now in that wheelchair was a football player, Kurt. A really good one. Playing was his life, and I took it away from him.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Of everyone there, it had to be him I almost broke the spine on.” He shook his head, the scene replayed in front of his open eyes. The pain, the screams, everything.

 “To him, I bet that what I did is almost even worse than if I’d actually killed him.”

 “Yeah well, they almost killed you. I say, those assholes deserved a lot more than they got.”

 “Really.”

 “Yeah.”

 “…Thanks.” He wasn’t actually sure if it was a compliment, or if Kurt thought they deserved more because it’d been Blaine they’d beaten up. Probably not, but it didn’t hurt to pretend.