Remind Me to Forget

Chapter 17

Blaine erases his last problem, pushing a bit too hard on his eraser. Of course his answer doesn't match the one in the back of the book. He sits at Kurt's desk, calculus book (with truly evil problem sets), notebook, and graphing calculator spread out before him.

He and Kurt had agreed to be somewhat productive, although he knows Kurt finished his assignments at least a half an hour ago, given that laughs coming from the bed where Kurt is reading something on his laptop. He blinks and stares at the bits of eraser covering the now blank space on the page.

Behind him, Kurt sighs.

“Everything okay?” Blaine knows he sounds curious, perhaps a touch too invested in nothing more than a sigh, but it was a change after the laughter. And he could use a break from the evils of calculus.

“Oh, fine. Elliott just texted me – he and Dani came up with a new idea for our set next weekend.”

Blaine sets down his pencil and stands, crossing to join Kurt. He sits beside him on the bed, one leg dangling off the side as he rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. “And that's worthy of a sigh?

Kurt pushes his laptop aside, leans into Blaine's side. “Yes – no.” Kurt sighs again. “It's silly.”

Blaine puts his arm around Kurt's waist, smiles when the iPod switches to a cover of Little Talks. “Tell me anyway.”

“It's nothing new. It's just…they're working on stuff for the band. Without me.” Kurt's head falls but Blaine stills sees the blush in his cheeks. “I know I should be happy that they're taking initiative. We hadn't settled on the set list when I left, but…they're so talented, Blaine.”

Blaine feels his face wrinkle in confusion. “Kurt, you're the most talented man I've ever met – and I say that without bias.”

Kurt huffs a laugh, and Blaine feels a bit of the tension ease. “Thanks. And I know I'm talented, Blaine, I did get into NYADA – eventually.”

“Kurt –”

“Dani and Elliott look the part.” The words are rushed. “They listen to Van Halen and play guitar and I – I'm a countertenor, Blaine.” Kurt's voice drops to a near whisper, “And they keep practicing without me.”

Blaine pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts, tilts his head to rest against Kurt's neck. “I didn't realize your band was a rock band. I mean, your cover of I Love Rock and Roll was amazing but so was Into the Groove. And,” Blaine raises his head, presses a light, quick kiss to Kurt's jaw, “unless I'm mistaken, you can certainly sing and dance as well as your bandmates. And if I remember correctly you also stood up to your high school tormenter and spearheaded a campaign to deal with bullying at your high school. Plus,” Blaine tightens his arm around Kurt's waist, “you moved to New York all on your own. I don't know about you, but to me that says that my fiancé is pretty amazing.”

Kurt shakes his head, dislodging Blaine from the space between his neck and shoulder. “Mm. The thought's appreciated, but I'm not exactly hardcore.”

Blaine leans back, moves so he's facing Kurt. “Funny. The Kurt Hummel I know is the bravest man I've ever met.” He gently places his index finger against Kurt's lips to prevent the counterargument he can see growing in Kurt's mind. “You didn't run, Kurt. Ever. You went back to McKinley and showed everyone that no one can keep Kurt Hummel down. You came to New York and won your NYADA sing off. You are going to sing at the NYADA showcase.” Blaine sees – and feels – Kurt begin to smile so he moves his hand to Kurt's shoulder, leans forward to punctuate each word with a light kiss. “You wore a kilt to Prom. In Ohio.”

“That's fashion –”

“Don't downplay your strength, please.”

Blaine rests his forehead against Kurt's, matches his breathing and offers him a smile before leaning in for a more thorough kiss. He pulls back some time later, moves to place light, teasing kisses along Kurt's neck and jaw. Kurt's breathing becomes more uneven, hitching when Blaine reaches under his ear. “I – um – I think I see your point.”

“I hope so.” Blaine murmurs the words, not taking his attention from Kurt's neck.

“We're supposed – supposed to be working.”

“Hm. We deserve a break.”

“We have been working for hours.” Kurt follows his comment by leaning away, causing Blaine to fall briefly before he manages to turn. He ends up lying on his back, arms around Kurt as he leans above him. “And Dad and Carole will be gone for at least a few more hours.” Kurt gives Blaine a truly evil (but gorgeous) grin before leaning down for another kiss.

"This is some fantasy of yours, isnt it. Your room?"

"Its not my fault that when I was here the house was full while yours was conveniently empty."

“Well,” Blaine smiles, raises his hand so his ring catches the light before resting it on the back of Kurt's neck, “I'd hate to leave your room bereft.”

Kurt gives a small laugh and shakes his head. “Our room, Blaine. It's our room now.”

“Prove it.” Blaine counters, and pulls Kurt down.

-*-*-*-

Kurt shifts a bit in the booth, moving so his thigh rests against Blaine's under the table. Carole had suggested a late lunch at Breadstix via text, but he and Blaine were the first to arrive. Luckily, their bored waitress hadn't commented on the fact that the two present from the party of four were two gay teenagers. She'd simply taken their drink orders and stepped away.

Ohio may not be accepting, but at least he can keep his good mood.

He looks around the restaurant, absently notes that nothing's changed. He can't say he's terribly surprised, but being one of the few sit down restaurants, would it be too much to hope the décor got an update?

“Is New York pasta really that much better?”

Kurt turns at Blaine's question, knows his confusion is plain on his face.

“You looked offended.” Blaine accompanies the comment with a slight nod.

“Oh.” Kurt gives him a quick smile. “There are some restaurants I can't wait to take you to, but I was thinking about the décor – I had hoped they'd updated.”

Blaine laughs and Kurt reaches to take his hand. “No, and you should know that if they ever had I would have called and sent pictures immediately.”

“True,” Kurt gives Blaine's hand a brief squeeze, “but I still hope for the manager to have an epiphany.”

Blaine's reply is interrupted by the return of the waitress with their drinks and a basket of breadsticks. He accepts his with a smile and nods in response when she questions if they want to wait to order until the rest of their party arrives. She steps away with a half-hearted comment to let her know if they need anything, and Kurt turns back to face Blaine.

“If I acted like that at the diner I'd never get any tips.”

“Probably not,” Blaine replies with a laugh, “but at least she's efficient.”

“Hm. I guess –”

“Sorry we're late!” Kurt and Blaine both jump slightly at Carole's comment, and Blaine's hand tightens around his before he looks across the table, giving Carole a smile as she sets down her purse. “Construction.”

Kurt winces in sympathy. “Summer in Ohio.”

“Yeah,” his dad agrees as he reaches for a menu, “but at least we made it.”

Their waitress arrives a moment later, and Kurt wonders if she's been replaced by a pod person in the minutes she was gone. She jokes with his dad and Carole, smiling and describing the lunch specials.

Kurt takes a slow drink of his soda and shares a look with Blaine.

They manage to wait until the waitress (apparently her name is Lauren) leaves to get drinks before breaking into laughter.

“Sorry,” Kurt says between laughs, “she just – she really changes when there's a chance for a tip.”

His dad and Carole's widened eyes don't help him control his laughter.

“She barely looked at us when we got our drinks,” Blaine comments from beside him, “and we certainly didn't hear any specials.” There's a small laugh and then he continues, “I didn't know she could be that…peppy. It's like she's a pod person.”

Kurt's overcome with affection at the moment, can't help but give Blaine's cheek a peck. He pulls back quickly, feels the blush staining his cheeks as he subtly glances around and releases a quiet sigh when he notes that most of the tables are empty.

“Well,” Kurt turns to look at his father, “maybe she's tryin' to be an actress.”

“I hope not,” Kurt mutters, drawing a laugh from Blaine.

“So,” Carole comments as she takes a breadstick, sighing when she realizes she doesn't have a bread plate before Blaine slides her his and moves Kurt's to the middle; Carole smiles and then continues, “I hope you boys weren't waiting too long.”

“No,” Kurt shares a glance with Blaine, “not really. We hit a little traffic too.” He keeps the fact that they were a little late leaving the house to himself, although Blaine gives his hand a squeeze.

“That's something, at least.” Carole takes a small bite from her breadstick, nods when Lauren returns with their drinks before giving them more time to glance over their menus. “But Kurt, how is school? You've been here two days and I feel like I've gotten more information from phone calls than over the past two days when you've been here.”

“Oh.” Kurt feels the blush staining his cheeks and ducks his head to look at the menu. “Sorry. But school isn't terribly interesting -”

“Kurt's singing in the end of year showcase,” Blaine interrupts, pride audible.

Carole and Burt both give Kurt looks of surprise and excitement before narrowing their eyes. “You were going to tell us.” Burt's words aren't a question.

“Of course!” Kurt looks up quickly, feels the words slide together in his haste to reply. “I was waiting for the right time,” Kurt adds with a shrug, “Blaine's party was Friday, and yesterday…” He lets the sentence trail off, offers Carole a smile he hopes keeps her from feeling upset.

“Well, that's wonderful Kurt.” Carole's voice stays strong, open and ringing with sincerity. “What are you singing? When is it? You have to tell us everything.”

“And you better not hold back,” his dad adds. “It's not every day we get to know about our kid performing at a NYADA showcase. I'm glad that school of yours is recognizing your talent.”

Blaine offers him half a breadstick. “They'd be idiots not to.”

“You're all going to give me an inflated ego.” Kurt takes a bite of his breadstick before continuing. “Don't get me wrong, you all are wonderful, but I'm going to struggle with the criticism I'm due for Monday.”

Any replies are postponed with the return of Lauren, but they manage to place their orders without mishap (although he and Blaine can't hold back a few chuckles while ordering). Luckily, Lauren doesn't comment, and she leaves before he and Blaine dissolve into full laughter.

“I'm glad you two can amuse yourselves,” Carole adds in a dry tone, “but Kurt – I meant what I said. Tell us all about this showcase.”

“I don't know too much, yet. Madam Tibideaux is still deciding the theme and parameters. I have a solo, though.” Kurt feels happiness bubbling in his chest, along with a hint of pride that he's finally being recognized. “Plus there will be at least one group performance; everyone sings in the finale.”

“That's great, Kurt.” His dad is beaming, and Kurt hadn't thought he could feel any happier, but the bubble in his chest expands, and his eyes sting. Blaine's hand squeezes his again, and gratitude joins the maelstrom of emotions.

“It really is.”

-*-*-*-

Kurt pauses in the doorway to his old room, a mug of coffee in each hand. In front of him, Blaine sits at his desk, intent on something. Kurt's face tightens as he takes in the hunched shoulders of his fiancé, frowns when he realizes that Blaine isn't humming along to the piano cover of Clocks drifting from his docked iPod. He pushes off the doorframe and enters the room, moves to stand beside Blaine, setting one of the cups of coffee down on the desk.

“You look like you could use some coffee.”

“Have I mentioned that I love you today?” Blaine comments as he turns to face him, dropping something on the desk. He takes the mug with a smile, swallows a sip before setting the mug back down. “I grateful for the coffee, but I have to admit, I thought you'd be down there for a couple more hours.”

Kurt shakes his head. After getting back from lunch, Blaine had come upstairs to work on homework. Kurt had suspected Blaine wanting to give him one-on-one time with Burt and Carole (a sweet, if unnecessary gesture) but had happily talked with his parents. When the conversation had lulled Kurt had left for the kitchen, which had led to now, with him bringing coffee to his tired fiancé.

“Maybe I wanted to spend more time with you.”

Blaine's smile could outshine the New York skyline.

“Well, I'll never say no to that.” There's silence for a moment as they both sip at their coffee before Kurt sets his mug on the desk and moves to stand behind Blaine, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders and resting his chin on Blaine's head.

“What's that?”

“Oh.” Blaine picks up the card and Kurt holds back his wince when Blaine continues in a flat voice. “Cooper sent me a birthday card.”

“Well,” Kurt pauses before he continues – Cooper has always been a sensitive topic, and Kurt doesn't want to repeat past mistakes, “that was kind of him.”

Blaine lets out a strained laugh, and Kurt's arms shake with the motion. “No, I'm sorry. It was. I just –” Blaine sighs and ducks his head before he reaches for the card and places it in Kurt's hand.

Kurt steps back and opens the card.

Hey little bro!

L.A. is awesome! I'm so glad you get to come out here for your show choir thing! You'll love it – the sun is wonderful, especially for Anderson skin. Mom was right, who knew? I'll have to audition for a skin care commercial! I'd totally get it! Anyway, I know youre having a rough time, and I would totally be there for you if it wasnt for this audition. But it's George Clooney, Blaine! No one says no to George Clooney! Besides, the two hottest men in Hollywood? Definite blockbuster.  Anyhow happy birthday! Have fun with Kurt's parents. :)

For a moment, Kurt can do nothing but stare. It's not that the words are harsh – they're not even particularly insightful. And yet, for a moment Kurt futilely wishes that Cooper had simply left the card blank except for his name.

“Blaine –”

“He hasn't sent a card in years.” Blaine's voice is hushed, and Kurt turns back to face him. “So at least he's trying, right?”

“Right.” Kurt knows his voice lacks conviction, but he doesn't lie to Blaine. And Cooper – Cooper knows what's going on, knew what was going on when Blaine was attacked years ago. And yet, Kurt remembers that Blaine was alone in the hospital, remembers that Blaine had a home health aide to get to him to P.T., and a therapist more concerned with Blaine's parents' views and money than his health.

Cooper was never mentioned.

And now, Cooper's sent a flippant – if genuine – birthday card. Suddenly, Kurt is overwhelmed with his love for Blaine (and guilt for past actions) realizing how much Cooper's appearance a year before must have cost him.

“I called him while you were downstairs.” Blaine's voice jolts Kurt from his thoughts, and he steps back to Blaine, setting the card on the desk. “I got his voicemail, but I left a message.” Blaine offers a slight smile and shrug, “He was probably at some audition – it was early afternoon for him.”

“Well, I'm sure he'll call back when he gets a chance.” Kurt takes Blaine's hand and pulls him from the chair, leads them over to the bed where he settles against the pillows, Blaine resting against his chest.

“Hm.” Blaine's response stays quiet, noncommittal. “Maybe he will. But,” Blaine starts playing with Kurt's fingers, keeping is gaze down, “I'm not going to lie and say I'll expect it. Honestly, I'm surprised he sent a card. The last time I got one was after Sadie Hawkins.” Blaine's hand freezes and Kurt catches his fingers, squeezes them in support. “He even –” Blaine releases a humorless huff of laughter, “he even sent this obnoxious ‘get well soon' bear; it was a good thing I couldn't squeeze it at first because he'd recorded himself saying what he considered to be ‘helpful thoughts' – they repeated every time it was touched. My P.T. found out and had me use it during sessions once I was strong enough. Said it was great motivation because I kept hoping if I squeezed it hard enough eventually it would die.”

Kurt shakes his head and laughs even as his chest aches at the thought of Blaine in the hospital with nothing but an obnoxious toy from his family. “At least it was helpful.” Kurt pauses, “Do you still have it?”

“Hm.” Blaine leans and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. “I'm sure it's buried in my closet somewhere.”

“Do you think it still works?”

“Don't even joke,” Blaine groans, “Those lines were in my head for months.”

“Were they really that bad? I mean,” Kurt pauses, searching for words, “I know Cooper's a bit eccentric, but he's not crazy.”

“No,” Blaine agrees, “but he did say that ‘bruises just add color' and that ‘winces should always show authenticity' I thought my P.T. was going to fall out his chair laughing the first time he heard it.”

Kurt pulls Blaine closer even as he laughs. “He's your brother.”

“He's something.” Blaine sighs, “I know he tries, and he does mean well, but…” The sentence trails off and Kurt drops a kiss to Blaine's hair.

“But?”

“You're going to think I'm a horrible person.”

“Doubtful. How about you just tell me and let me decide?”

“I –” Blaine's chest rises with his deep breath, and then he starts again. “Sometimes I wish Cooper had just stayed away. It's not that I don't think he cares, or that he's even done anything, really,” Blaine pauses and Kurt keeps to himself the memories of Cooper's somewhat cutting remarks to Blaine when he visited. “But he's not really here, either. After my dad –” Blaine's cut off sentence has Kurt briefly closing his eyes, tightening his arms around Blaine's waist. “After everything…I left him a voicemail saying that I was staying here, just – just so he'd know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Anyway, he called back while I was in school. He left a voicemail saying that he'd always known Dad had a temper, but that that's a useful cliché in Hollywood. He said that he was glad I could stay here, since you're so ‘awesome' and that if I needed anything to give him a call, but not to be surprised if I get his voicemail since auditions keep him busy. And I'm not mad at him, I'm not. It was just that for a second, after we sang in the auditorium, I thought things might change. But Cooper is still Cooper – he focuses on something so much that there's no room for other things.”

Kurt stays silent after Blaine finishes, lets Umbrella drift over him as he organizes his thoughts. He wonders what it's like, having a sibling who cares but doesn't show it, at least not in the expected ways. How often did Blaine wait for a hug (or a phone call) when he was younger before he simply stopped expecting it? When did he start accepting the excuse of the next big audition? Against him, Blaine takes even breaths, not speaking.

“You're not a horrible person, Blaine.”

“You're biased.”

“Mm.” Kurt drops his head to Blaine's shoulder. “But that wasn't part of the criteria. You knew I was biased before you started talking.” Kurt leans back, moves his arms from around Blaine so he can quickly push himself away and move so they're facing one another. “I wish Cooper was here for you, but unfortunately I can't control the world. But, I'm here for you, and Dad and Carole are, too.” Kurt reaches across and picks up Blaine's left hand, toys with the ring resting there. “We're family now, too, and I know it's…different, but we'll always be there for you. I feel like we keep saying that, but apparently the Hudson-Hummels are big on repetition.”

Blaine offers a small smile. “Apparently I need to hear it multiple times for it to stick.”

“Hm.” Kurt briefly tightens his hold on Blaine's hand. “You are a bit stubborn. But,” Kurt rests his forehead against Blaines, “you're stuck with us, and once you're with me in New York you'll be stuck with me every day. Focus on that.”

“It's a nice thought.” Blaine mumbles, turning to place a soft kiss to Kurt's cheek. “And your family is wonderful. It's not perfect, but it's real and I – I love that you've shared so much with me.”

“Part of the deal,” Kurt murmurs before letting out a yawn. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Don't be sorry.” Blaine drops his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder. “Nap?”

“We shouldn't. You're supposed to be doing homework and I should be scouring EBSCO.”

Blaine hums and then shifts his weight, pulling Kurt with him so they're lying side by side on the bed. “We probably should,” he says around a yawn, “but it's the weekend, and I say we nap. Besides, you leave tomorrow morning – we should take advantage and cuddle.”

“You make a good argument. Nap it is.”

Moments later they've settled, Blaine resting his head on Kurt's chest. Kurt gently runs his hand up and down Blaine's arm, takes comfort in the rise and fall of his chest.

Naps really are the best thing.

-*-*-*-

Blaine helps Kurt gather the plates from the table, carrying them to the sink. Carole refused to let them do all the dishes, but had finally conceded to allowing others to gather the dishes she washed. Setting the plates next to the sink, Blaine smiles before stepping back, letting Kurt set his down as well. Apparently Burt's finished gathering the miscellaneous plates and silverware and moves to take a rinsed plate from Carole, toweling it dry. At a loss for what to do, Blaine shares a glance with Kurt.

Four people doing dishes is a bit much.

Still, it's quiet, comfortable in a way that leads to Blaine bopping his head as he helps Kurt put away the dishes. He and Kurt jokingly dance around the kitchen, putting plates and pots away in cabinets. He stops to take a glass from Mr. Hummel, pauses when he pulls it back. “That must have been some nap – I don't remember having that much energy even when I was your age.”

Blaine laughs and takes the cup. “I'm sure you danced just fine, Mr. Hummel. And we're not really dancing, but it's more fun this way.”

“I'll take your word for that,” Burt comments as he takes a skillet from Carole, “seems like a lot of work to me.”

“I thought you've been keeping up with your exercise.” Kurt's comment has Burt shaking his head with a rueful smile.

“I've been doin' my part, Kurt, but you two were just dancin' round the kitchen like you can't stay still.”

“You're just jealous,” Carole adds with a small laugh. “You are getting older.”

Burt's eyes narrow and Blaine steps back just as Burt flicks a bit of water towards Carole. She shrieks in laughter and Blaine shares a look with Kurt before they both move to stand against the far wall, away from any potential water.

Not that they needed to, apparently.

Carole seems content having given Burt a hug with her wet hands; his shirt sticks to his back in two misshapen handprints.

After another shared glance, Blaine follows Kurt back toward the sink, carefully taking the last of the now dried dishes and quickly putting them away.

“Well,” Carole turns off the faucet and turns to face them, “do you boys want dessert now or later?”

“What?” Blaine hears Kurt echo his question, but keeps his focus on Carole.

“Dessert,” Carole gestures to the fridge, “there's cheesecake – store bought, sorry – for whenever you want some.” She pauses, looks to Kurt before continuing, “I figured you deserved something special before you leave Ohio for the glorious Big Apple.”

“You really didn't have to…” Kurt's words trail off before he smiles. “What kind of cheesecake?”

Blaine laughs, and it joins Burt's, echoing slightly in the tiled room. Carole's reply of chocolate has Kurt grinning and Blaine ducks his head to hide his amusement.

“– later. Dinner was too delicious for me to have room for anything else right now, even if it is cheesecake.” Blaine looks back up at Kurt's reply, catches his gaze and he knows the next words are for him. “Unless you want some now?”

Blaine shakes his head, “No, I totally agree. Dinner was amazing and,” Blaine jokingly pats his stomach, “I'm stuffed.”

“How about some coffee, then.” Burt nods toward the machine, “We can get some brewing and watch a bit of T.V.”

There's murmurs of agreement and ten minutes later they're all sitting in the living room, mugs of steaming coffee on varying tables. After joking arguments about the (lack of) quality of reality shows they finally settle on a marathon of How I Met Your Mother reruns. Blaine relaxes against Kurt's chest, content.

They manage one and half episodes before Kurt announces that the cheesecake is calling his name, and Blaine stands to join him in getting slices.

“Plus,” Kurt adds as he cuts a thin slice, “this way we control Dad's portion.”

Blaine laughs. “At least I'll never have to worry about my weight; you'll stop me before I even get the chance.”

“Is that a criticism?” Kurt holds the knife poised to cute a slice even smaller than the last.

“Not at all,” Blaine hurries to comment, “I don't want people wondering why the fabulous Kurt Hummel is with the overweight Blaine Anderson.”

There's a pause, and Kurt sets down the knife. “You know I wouldn't care, right? I mean, I want you to be healthy, but don't worry that I'd care what anyone else might say.”

Blaine smiles and takes the plate on the counter. “I know. Sorry,” he nods toward the cheesecake, “I didn't mean to make you worry or anything.”

“I'm not worrying –” Kurt cuts himself off, cuts and plates another slice of cheesecake before continuing. “Well, maybe a little, but that's my right. Anyway,” he turns, and nods to the last plate on the counter, “what do you say we drop these off and then go up to our room.”

“It's still your room, Kurt.” Blaine comments as he takes the plate in his left hand.

“Our room, and you really should stop trying to argue.”

Blaine shakes his head and follows Kurt back to the living room where Kurt hands Carole and Burt (who shakes his head and sighs when he sees the size of his slice) before announcing that they're going upstairs.

They head for the stairs with reminders to say goodnight before they go to sleep, and moments later they're seated on the floor, door closed and music drifting from the docking station.

“Bless Carole,” Kurt says around a bite of cheesecake, humming in appreciation.

“I'm sure the cheesecake's better in New York,” Blaine replies, staring at his plate.

“Hm,” Kurt takes another bite, “yes, but the company here is infinitely better.”

“I wish you could stay longer.” Blaine closes his eyes after he says the words, torn between regret and embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry. I wasn't even expecting you to come this weekend, I know you have lots to do with school and work –”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts, stopping the flow of words. “It's okay. I wish I could stay, too. Or,” he pauses, gives Blaine a smile, “that you could come back with me.”

Of course Kurt understands.

“I am glad you visited. Really.” Blaine looks at his ring, reflecting the overhead light. “There's just so much happening.” Mentally, Blaine lists off the major events happening within the next two months: nationals, graduation, therapy.

“Mm.” Kurt scoots so he's sitting beside Blaine, their thighs touching. “You'll get through it though.”

“My appointment is Thursday.” Blaine takes another bite of cheesecake, takes his time chewing. “She, um, all new patients are seen on Thursdays since the first therapy session runs longer – it's why I couldn't be seen earlier.”

“Are you nervous?” Kurt's question is quiet, hesitant.

“No – yes.” Blaine huffs a laugh, turns to look at Kurt. “I'm not nervous about the therapy itself.” Blaine pauses, trying to organize the multitude of thoughts swirling in his mind. “I don't think therapy can be that different, even with a new doctor…but I don't know what she's going to say. I keep – I keep seeing those cars, and I messed up at the volunteers' dinner. And then I remember all those shows on the History Channel,” he pauses, leans when Kurt places a hand on his shoulder, “before it started showing weird things, and it showed actual history stuff? There were always shows about people who were involved in something, and they never – they never get over it.

“And I was over it, Kurt. For years. I was fine. But now I'm seeing cars and people who have absolutely no reason to be in Lima. And I can't sleep. And what if – what if she can't fix me? What if it's – what if I become one of those people?”

The plate is taken from him by careful hands, placed on the floor. And then Kurt turns and pulls him in, hugging him to his chest.

Blaine just breathes.

“You won't, Blaine.” Kurt's words are soft, but strong with conviction. “And Dr. Schamp doesn't need to ‘fix' you. You're not broken. Something – something horrible happened to you. And,” Kurt tilts Blaine's head so he meets his eyes, “you might have been fine, Blaine, but your last therapist,” the word rings with derision, “wasn't what I'd call helpful. And anyone would need a sympathetic ear after what happened. I don't care what your diagnosis – if any – is, you'll get through it, and I'll be there to help as much as I can. It's alright to be nervous, or even scared, but don't feel bad because you're getting help, okay?”

Blaine nods against Kurt's chest, tightens his arms around Kurt's waist. “Sorry. I didn't mean to –”

“What did I say about that word?”

Blaine gives a weak laugh. “Right.” He sighs, pulls back so he can easily look at Kurt. “I know your dad and Carole looked around and have talked to Dr. Schamp. They said she was nice, at least, and I believe them. But,” Blaine ducks his head, hates that he has to stop to search for words again, “but that's just it. She's supposedly a nice lady who won't – who doesn't care that I'm gay. What if she says I'm crazy, Kurt?”

“You're not crazy, Blaine.”

“I'm seeing –”

“You're not crazy.” Blaine feels Kurt hands tighten on his as he says the words. “You went through a trauma when you were fourteen. And you survived, you survived and I am so, so proud of you for that. You need some help now, and no one can fault you for that. Okay? No one. Dad and Carole wouldn't send you to someone they had questions about, someone they doubted. And regardless of what Dr. Schamp says, I'll be there for you. Nothing could make me leave. Besides,” Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine's cheek, “Dad's already said he'll go through every doctor in the county – the state if need be – until you find someone you can talk to.”

Blaine keeps his head against Kurt's chest, counting heartbeats. He's still worried about what the outcome will be from his upcoming therapy, but Kurt's words have given him a focus point, hope that things might be okay. Even if what he suspects is true, Kurt's promised to be there.

“I love you.”

“Mm.” Kurt pulls back, gives Blaine a grin. “I love you too. It's part of why you're stuck with me.”

Blaine feels the smile grow on his face. “Well, I'm not complaining.”

“You'd better not.” Kurt drops his head to Blaine's shoulder for a moment before sitting up again. “So, how about we finish our indulgent cheesecake and then you can show me your parts for nationals again before we get ready for bed.”

“You just want to hear me sing.”

“You did say you can't practice too much.”

Blaine laughs as he picks up his plate. “You're never going to forget that, are you? My own words are going to haunt me.”

Kurt laughs around a bite to cheesecake.

-*-*-*-

“Heaven forbid you pick a man's profession.”

“Man up, Anderson!”

A hand grabs his shoulder, spinning him around. A punch pushes him back, further into the arms of his captor. “Sadie Hawkins isn't for gays, Anderson! Hold ‘em Mitch. Cover his mouth, too. Can't have him crying, now.”

Blaine struggles, twists but he's trapped and he can't move, held tightly –

Blaine jolts up, breath heaving. A hand settles on his shoulder and he jumps.

“Sorry!” Kurt's voice is soft, and moments later the bedside light flips on, bathing the room in its dim light. Beside him, Kurt's hair is a glorious mess, but his face is pale, worried even in the poor light from the lamp.

“No,” Blaine rubs a hand over his face. “I'm sorry. I – I woke you up, and you have to leave –”

“Don't even go there, Blaine. We've been over this.” There's a pause and then the hand settles again. Blaine leans into it, allows Kurt to wrap him in a hug.

“'m still sorry I woke you up.”

“Well, we can save our discussion on that word for the morning, okay? For now,” Kurt moves, carefully pulling at the blankets until they're no longer a tangled mess on the bed, “just come here.”

Blaine goes, settles against Kurt's chest.

“What do you need me to do?”

Stay with me. But he can't voice the words, can't put that pressure on Kurt the day he's leaving to return to New York. “Nothing. You're – you're already helping.”

“Blaine.”

Blaine sighs, pulls Kurt's arm so it's wrapped around him. “Just hold me?” The words come out as a question and Blaine closes his eyes, annoyed at his own weakness.

“You never have to ask.” There's a click and darkness returns, but then Kurt's pulling Blaine to him, holding him and pressing soft kisses to his hair.

Breathe in. Kurt's here.

Breathe out. Kurt's still here.