Kurt's mouth pressed into a thin line at the words while Sebastian's eyes widened. They both knew that Blaine had been attacked at his old school and that it had prompted his transfer to Dalton, but the only people who knew the extent of the fallout from the attack were his doctors, his parents, Cooper, and the therapist his parents had made him see for a few months during his recovery. He'd never even heard how badly Josh, his date, had been hurt; he'd only been told that Josh had been sent to a Catholic school a few towns over and that he was not to get in touch.

Once Blaine had started at Dalton, he'd stopped seeing the therapist and had kept the reason for his transfer to himself, though he knew many of the boys had a good idea of why he'd shown up in the middle of the spring semester. Blaine had ended up missing too much of the fall semester at Westerville due to his hospital stay and started too late in the spring at Dalton after his recovery, which had forced him to repeat his freshman year. But no one had given him grief over it and he'd finally started to heal.

But maybe he hadn't healed as much as he thought, considering his visceral reaction to just Roy's voice.

"Blaine-" Sebastian started, though he trailed off when he didn't seem to know what to say after that.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said, echoing his words from the first night Blaine had told him about the dance what seemed like a lifetime ago. His voice was laced with so much sympathy that it almost hurt Blaine to hear-especially in light of what Kurt had revealed before they'd been interrupted.

But Blaine shoved that hurt aside, not ready to deal with it on top of everything else. Kurt would be in town all week; they'd be able to talk once Blaine had some time to sort through things.

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry," he said, voice slightly rough. "I should be thanking you guys. For that," he added when Kurt and Sebastian exchanged a look.

"There's nothing to thank us for," Sebastian said simply, as though creating a human shield between someone and the reminder of his past trauma was an everyday occurrence.

"Blaine," Kurt added, "you helped me confront Karofsky after knowing me all of a day."

"But-"

Kurt rolled his eyes in his patented Bitch Please expression, so Blaine dropped it, recognizing that he wasn't going to get any further with it at this point.

Sebastian looked down at his watch and grimaced. "Crap. I need to get back to campus." He glanced between Blaine and Kurt uncertainly, knowing things between them were still raw. Another wave of appreciation for Sebastian's friendship washed over Blaine at that. "Are you going to be okay?"

Blaine nodded wearily. "It's fine. I'll call you later."

Sebastian hesitated before nodding. "Later," he agreed then left with a wave, weaving between the tables and heading out the door.

Blaine looked up, ready for Kurt to make some comment about him talking to Sebastian only to find a worried expression on Kurt's face. "Do you want to go home?" he asked. "I know that was..." he trailed off, casting for a fitting word and finally settled on "stressful."

Blaine snorted. "Understatement, Kurt." But he shook his head. "Can we go see a movie or something? I just need to take my mind off things for a couple of hours."

Kurt nodded and they wordlessly tossed their now cold coffees into the trash and, after a thankful wave to the baristas, headed into the mall.

-----

The movie didn't end up taking Blaine's mind off anything. Though they picked something with more explosions and car chases than they usually saw together, Blaine couldn't keep his thoughts from returning to everything that had been thrown his way in the past few hours.

Not long after the movie started, Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's, entwining their fingers and giving a supportive squeeze. A current ran through Blaine's arm at the touch, but he didn't pull away and Kurt didn't let go until the movie ended and the lights went up.

They exited the theater in silence, stopping off to the side of the entrance to avoid the people coming and going. Blaine wrapped his arms around his middle, feeling suddenly cold and exposed out in the open, while Kurt watched him in concern.

"Hey," Kurt said, "you were thinking pretty loudly in there."

"I- Yeah. I couldn't turn my brain off after all, I guess."

"Do... you want to talk about it?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Blaine shook his head. His thoughts were all over the place-including thoughts about Kurt himself-but mostly he was just tired.

He was tired of being confused by everything Kurt did and said. He was tired of hating himself for wrecking their relationship so that they'd ended up in this confusing place. He was tired of trying so damn hard to be better only to fail so much of the time. He was tired of the push and pull of his Westerville and Lima lives and feeling like he had to give up part of himself to exist in either space. He was tired of being afraid of the demons of his past. He was tired of living in a community in which those demons were still relevant. He was tired of not being good enough for his family and of the snide comments about his sexuality or the colleges he'd applied to.

And Blaine was so damn tired of being tired.

And then there was that part of him that was angry that he was being worn down by all of it.

"Blaine, I..."

"Can we not do this right now?" Blaine asked, curling more in on himself.

Kurt blinked. "Do what?"

"I don't even know," Blaine replied sharply, straightening as something snapped inside him. "What are we doing here, Kurt?" he asked, gesturing between them. "You show up on my doorstep out of the blue, say you want to talk, and then tell me you slept with your boyfriend."

"Ex," Kurt whispered.

"That's another thing!" Blaine said. As his voice rose in volume, part of him felt detached, like he was watching himself go off on Kurt and was too fascinated to try to stop it. "You slept with your boyfriend then broke up with him." He shook his head. "What... What do you want from me, Kurt?" he trailed off weakly as the anger burning inside dissipated.

"Blaine-"

"I was finally moving on," Blaine whispered, ignoring Kurt's interjection, "only to have it all thrown in my face tonight." He wasn't sure if he was talking about Kurt or Sadie Hawkins at this point. Maybe both. Maybe it didn't matter.

"Blaine," Kurt pleaded, voice cracking a bit.

"I just... I can't do this right now, Kurt," Blaine repeated.

"Okay," Kurt whispered miserably. And if Blaine wasn't so damn tired, he probably would've hated himself for putting that pain on Kurt's face. But as it was... "I'll just-" Kurt bit his lip and turned to leave.

Blaine sighed heavily. "Kurt, wait. Please." Kurt stopped in his tracks but didn't turn around. "I can't do this right now," he emphasized. "Tomorrow?"

Kurt did turn then, looking him in the eye, searching. Finally he nodded. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure. I... I need to process. A lot of stuff's been dredged up tonight. But I'll text you tomorrow."

"Promise?"

Blaine's lip twitched. "Promise."

"Okay," Kurt replied. "I'll hold you to that." He hesitated before asking, "Are you good to drive home?"

Blaine nodded, making a quick decision. "I'll be fine. I'm going to get some decaf first." Kurt opened his mouth but Blaine cut him off. "Go home, Kurt," he said firmly. "It's a long drive to Lima."

Kurt relented and they ended up walking to Starbucks together. They paused in the doorway, and Kurt looked like he wanted to say something but decided better of it.

"Good night, Blaine."

"See you tomorrow."

Never goodbye.

Kurt nodded and headed for his car while Blaine headed to the counter. The shop was pretty much deserted and the barista from earlier gave him a smile when he ordered his drink.

"On the house," she said when Blaine pulled out his wallet.

He blinked. "Are you sure?"

The barista-her name tag said Katie-nodded. "You look like you could use a pick-me-up after your night." Blaine smiled weakly at that. "And besides, we're about to close and the leftover coffee is just gonna get tossed anyway."

"Thank you," Blaine said when she set the drink down in front of him. He put a couple of dollars in the tip jar and grinned at Katie's raised eyebrow. "For earlier."

Her expression softened. "Those guys are assholes." Blaine gave her a startled look and Katie blushed. "Well, they are. They think they're hot stuff because they played for Westerville High a few years ago, won a State Championship or whatever. They're always rude when they come in and hit on anything with two legs."

Blaine snorted. That sounded about right from what he remembered of them for the few months he'd been at the school, though his memory of that time was a bit spotty in the wake of the attack.

"I went to high school with them for a few months," Blaine said, not sure why he was telling a complete stranger-if a Good Samaritan-this, but it felt safe and the two other customers that had been in the shop when Blaine arrived had since packed up and left. "They made my life a living hell and I ended up transferring."

Katie's eyes widened. "Shit. So that's what that was about earlier?" Blaine nodded and Katie shook her head. "Bastards."

Blaine let out a surprised laugh. Katie's unfiltered commentary was somehow helping to lift some of the weight from his shoulders. "Definitely."

They talked for a few more minutes before Katie looked down at her watch and let out a string of curses Blaine was sure her boss wouldn't approve of. "I've got to close up," she apologized.

Blaine raised his coffee cup to her in a salute. "No problem. I should get home anyway." Though, as they exchanged goodbyes and Blaine promised to stop by more often, he realized he didn't really want to face the big, empty house waiting for him with nothing but his thoughts for company. He needed another perspective before he was allowed to be alone with the night's events.

He pulled out his phone as he stepped into the parking lot and dialed Sebastian's number. It was nearly curfew at Dalton so Sebastian couldn't meet him, but Blaine could go there; Thad was Sebastian's RA so wouldn't bat an eye at Blaine coming over after hours-hell, he'd probably want to join the conversation.

More than once in the last few months, Blaine had marveled that Sebastian had become someone to call when he needed to talk about something personal, but the other boy had yet to make him regret it. He could be surprisingly insightful when he wanted to be.

Blaine wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear as he surveyed the parking lot; empty on this side of the mall except for his own car. One of the street lights had gone out so it was also dark. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"C'mon, pick up," Blaine muttered as he dug around his pockets for his keys with his free hand.

"Calling your boyfriend, Anderson?"

Blaine went cold at the voice and straightened, his phone clattering to the ground at his side. Roy was leaning against the hall of the building, a baseball bat resting on his shoulder.

Shit. His free hand finally closed around his car key. If he dropped his coffee and forgot about his phone, he might make it to his car before Roy caught up to him. Blaine had shorter strides, but he was quick.

"Hello?" Sebastian's tinny voice answered from his phone on the ground.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Blaine," Roy said conversationally.

"Do what?" Blaine asked, eyes darting between Roy and his car.

"Run. Not that you have anywhere to go."

At Roy's words, Nick materialized from the shadows next to Blaine's car carrying a crowbar. Blaine's heart sank. He glanced back toward the door to the coffee shop-no doubt Katie would let him in-only to have his knees nearly give out beneath him.

"Blaine? Can you hear me?"

Eric Mitchell, former Westerville High linebacker and the third presence in his nightmares, appeared by the door, cutting off his last escape route. Blaine was completely hemmed in. While he might have been able to take one of them with the boxing skills he'd picked up in the last four years, he had no chance against three oversized former jocks.

"Look at you, Anderson," Eric said. "Dressed like that, might not even know you were a homo if we didn't have history."

Blaine hadn't bothered to change his sweatshirt and jeans when he and Kurt had left his house. Kurt had always laughed and affectionately called him such a boy when he was dressed down like he was now.

"Just trying to hide his disease," Roy said, pushing himself up from the wall and gripping the bat more firmly. "Here I thought we'd taught you your place, Blaine. Homos aren't welcome here."

"And he even had two others with him," Nick added, also closing in.

"Blaine, say something! Where are you?" Sebastian's voice demanded. "Shit!"

Blaine was frozen to the spot, his gaze going helplessly between the three men as they circled him like lions stalking wounded prey. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. It was too much... Too much like before...

"You spreading your AIDS around here, Anderson?" Eric sneered. "We don't want that shit ‘round here."

Roy studied Blaine a long moment, making Blaine feel bare under his roving eye. Sweat was beading on his forehead and a drop slid down his cheek.

"Do you suck your boyfriends' cocks, Blaine? Are you a good little cocksucker? Or do you fuck them up the ass?"

"Nah," Nick said, eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I'll be he takes it. Like a little bitch."

Eric laughed, a harsh barking sound that sent a shiver down Blaine's spine. "Fucking faggots.

"Dammit, Blaine!"

Blaine was too terrified by the way the three were closing in on him to be offended by the slurs. It wasn't the first time he'd heard them-or worse-and words only had power if he let them ("Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt"). But the bat and crowbar were another story.

They had a bat and crowbar that night, too, Blaine thought detachedly.

A kick at the back of Blaine's knees knocked him forward. He hissed as he dropped to his hands and knees, the pavement slicing his skin.

"Blaine!"

Blaine's phone was on the ground next to his foot and it seemed that Sebastian had stayed on the line. Blaine briefly wondered how much of the conversation Sebastian had heard; it must've been enough for him to start freaking out.

His eyes widened when he saw Nick raise the crowbar, so in a last ditch effort to get help, he grabbed the phone and hurriedly whispered "Starbucks" before the metal connected with his unprotected midsection. He cried out at the sharp burst of pain and dropped the phone.

He curled in on himself as they blows rained down and was soon lost in the haze of pain, blood, and his screams.

-----

Sebastian was opening the door to his dorm after a shower when he heard his phone ringing. He shut the door behind him, once again thankful that, as a senior, he had a single, and moved across the room, grabbing his phone off the desk. It was Blaine.

He briefly worried that something had happened after he'd left Blaine alone with Kurt in the coffee shop a few hours earlier; he knew Blaine had taken the breakup hard-the boy that had come to Dalton after Hunter had stolen the New Directions' Nationals trophy had seemed hollowed out somehow-and it had taken him a long time to start forgiving himself for cheating. Blaine'd only started moving on from what he'd lost in the last couple of months, and it would kill Sebastian to see that progress lost because Hummel randomly reappeared on the scene making promises he couldn't keep.

He'd seen Blaine's conflict in his face and posture, discomfort and wariness warring with hope, when he'd interrupted the conversation at Starbucks, though he hadn't recognized Kurt as his conversation partner until he'd spoken. Pieces had fallen into place at that and the need to protect Blaine from Kurt had hit him with surprising force.

Sebastian knew he was kidding himself if he even entertained the thought that Blaine wasn't still in love with Kurt. Kurt would always be his weakness-time and time again the normally intelligent, put-together Blaine would fall to incoherent pieces because of him. Sebastian both hated Kurt for having that power over Blaine and envied him; he hated that Kurt didn't seem to understand the power he held, wielding it in ways that only broke Blaine's heart. If he had that power, Sebastian wouldn't take it for granted. He would look at is as something precious to be matched only by Sebastian's devotion to Blaine.

But Blaine didn't see him like that, not with Kurt forever in his periphery.

And Jesus Christ, when had Sebastian gotten so sentimental? He shook his head at himself and answered the call.

"Hello?" he greeted, though when Blaine didn't immediately respond, he knew something was wrong.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Blaine," a faint voice said on the other end, words muffled as though they were coming from a distance.

"Do what?" That was Blaine. He sounded closer than the first person, but was still far from the phone. What the hell?

"Run. Not that you have anywhere to go."

Sebastian didn't like the sound of that. That voice sound familiar, though Sebastian couldn't quite place it. "Blaine?" he said again, worry gnawing at his gut. "Can you hear me?" He was already going through his dresser and pulling on boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt one-handed.

"Look at you, Anderson," a different voice said. "Dressed like that, might not even know you were a homo if we didn't have history."

Sebastian didn't recognize that voice but the owner seemed to know Blaine. And was a homophobic asshole to boot. What was going on?

"Just trying to hide his disease," the first voice said again. "Here I thought we'd taught you your place, Blaine. Homos aren't welcome here."

Oh. Fuck. Sebastian knew that voice; that was one of the guys that had threatened Blaine at Starbucks earlier.

"And he even had two others with him," said another voice. That must've been the second guy. Were they stalking Blaine after running into him earlier, waiting for him to leave so they could traumatize him more than they already had? What kind of sick bastards were these guys?

"Blaine, say something! Where are you?" Sebastian demanded, officially freaking out. He pulled a hoodie over his t-shirt and dug around for his wallet and keys. He made it to the door before remembering he needed shoes. "Shit!" He ran to his closet and pulled on a pair of sneakers without bothering to re-lace them and then was out the door again.

"Sebastian!" Sebastian cursed and turned to see Thad standing in his doorway. "Where are you going?"

For a moment, Sebastian debated whether or not to tell Thad what he thought was going on but decided not to worry the other boy. He didn't even know exactly. "Emergency," he said simply, then took off down the hall at a jog.

"Sebastian!" Thad called again, but Sebastian ignored him and turned his attention back to the other end of the line. He must have missed some of those assholes' witty banter while Thad was holding him up, but otherwise it didn't sound like anything had happened. Yet.

"Nah, I'll be he takes it. Like a little bitch."

There was a barking laugh that sounded a lot closer than before. "Fucking faggots."

"Dammit, Blaine!" Sebastian cursed as he picked up his pace through the dorm hallways and down the stairs. Just tell me where you are! I'm coming. Sebastian had just burst through the doors to the boarders' parking lot when he heard a thud and Blaine hiss in pain.

"Blaine!"

Sebastian was unlocking his car when he heard Blaine hoarsely whisper "Starbucks" and then cry out. Sebastian's insides clenched hard at the sounds of hard objects connecting with flesh. But the worst were Blaine's cries of pain. For a moment, Sebastian stood in the parking lot, one hand on his car door and jaw slack in shock at what he was hearing. Then Blaine whimpered "Please" and the other men laughed-fucking laughed-and Sebastian was in motion again.

Blaine was at Starbucks. That was only five minutes from campus, three if he didn't obey any traffic laws. Blaine's cries and the sounds of abuse echoed through Sebastian's ears as he frantically started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

And then the call went dead.

It took a moment for Sebastian to realize he wasn't hearing screams anymore, but when he did he let off a string of curses and checked his phone-the call had been lost. If he'd thought the worst was hearing Blaine in pain, he knew then that he'd been wrong; not knowing what was going on was infinitely worse.

After a moment's indecision, Sebastian dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" the dispatcher asked.

"I need an ambulance at the Westerville Starbucks. My friend's been... My friend's been attacked," Sebastian said, struggling to form the words as his foot pressed down on the accelerator. Just a couple of minutes, Blaine. Hang on.

"Is your friend conscious?"

"I don't know. I was... I was on the phone with him when it happened. I heard it and then the call dropped. Fuck. Hurry."

"I'm sending help right now. Can you tell me your name?"

"Sebastian. Sebastian Smythe."

"Good, Sebastian. I need you to stay calm. What's your friend's name?"

"Blaine Anderson."

Sebastian continued answering the dispatcher's questions as best he could until he swung his car into the Starbucks parking lot. It was empty except for Blaine's car, right where it had been parked when Sebastian had left earlier in the evening. Sebastian parked crookedly near Blaine's car and jumped out of his car while the dispatcher tried to keep him talking. Distant sirens approaching and the dispatcher's voice faded into white noise when he saw the still figure on the ground near the door.

It was dark in the parking lot, but Sebastian recognized the hoodie and jeans that Blaine had been wearing earlier.

"Shit, Blaine!"

Sebastian nauseously noted the bloody footprints leading away from Blaine and the crowbar tossed carelessly off to the side of Blaine's still form as he rushed to his friend's side. Sebastian made to reach out but recoiled when he saw the state Blaine was in.

He was unconscious, crumpled face-down on the concrete. His right arm was sticking out an angle that couldn't be natural and there was a small puddle of blood under his chest. There was also a large gash on his forehead. Under the blood, he looked incredibly pale.

His phone was on the ground about five feet away, the screen smashed like it had been stepped on.

And then there were piercing sirens, bright blue and white lights illuminating the parking lot-and god there was a lot of blood on Blaine's clothes-loud voices in his ears, and strong hands pulling him away.

-----

Kurt was about halfway to Lima when his phone rang. He would have ignored it while driving at night with the ever-present danger of deer on the highway, but he'd been hoping to hear from Blaine. He was still reeling over Blaine exploding him, though he probably deserved it for springing things on Blaine like he had. He'd wanted the visit to be happy surprise, but he hadn't gotten the chance to get to the happy part of his story before they'd been interrupted, and things had only gotten worse as the night had progressed.

"These three guys, they beat the living crap out of us," Blaine had told him the night Kurt had asked him to junior prom. Kurt had been horrified for his boyfriend, but he hadn't really understood and had never asked him to elaborate.

Oh, he'd thought he'd understood, having been locker checked, thrown into dumpsters, and his life threatened. But seeing the guys that had assaulted Blaine, huge former jocks spilling so much hate, and the way they made Blaine shut down and hearing that they'd put Blaine in the hospital for a month... Well, Kurt was suddenly wishing he'd asked Blaine to explain more.

And he was wishing he'd had the courage to actually talk to Blaine at his house and avoid the whole Starbucks mess in the first place. If only he could have gotten the whole Adam story out in the open so Blaine could've understood why Kurt was really there...

He hadn't been planning to come home for break at all, but then he'd ended things with Adam, and after that he'd needed to talk to Blaine, and that had to be done in person.

But when Blaine had opened the door, he'd looked so casual and relaxed-a side of him that so few people ever got to see-in his jeans, hoodie, and curly hair that Kurt had completely forgotten what he'd wanted to say. He was just Blaine, the love of Kurt's life. And he still took Kurt's breath away despite-or maybe because of-everything that had happened between them.

He'd fought the urge to pull Blaine into a kiss on the spot, the other boy's shocked and slightly wary expression keeping him at bay. He'd had to fight the urge to take his hand at Starbucks as well; it was his natural response when Blaine got upset, but it hadn't been his place.

And there had been Sebastian. And two of these three guys. And a movie. And "What are we doing here, Kurt?"

But there had also been "Tomorrow" and "Promise." Kurt had to hold onto that and let Blaine work through what he needed to; for Blaine, Kurt could be patient.

Blaine's temper was generally short and explosive; he tended to internalize things until he burst, but the anger was swiftly exhausted and he was quick to cool down. Longer periods of anger were rare and usually masked some deeper hurt, so Kurt hoped this instance was one of the former since he'd seemed to deflate almost immediately after his outburst.

Kurt picked up the phone as it continued to ring and bit back a disappointed sigh when the number wasn't Blaine's. It wasn't one Kurt was familiar with at all, but he took the call since he was already holding the phone anyway.

"Hello?"

"Kurt?"

Kurt frowned. The voice was familiar... "Who is this?"

A sigh. "It's Sebastian."

Kurt's eyes narrowed, immediately feeling defensive. "What could you possibly want, Sebastian?"

"You, uh, you need to get back to Westerville. Now." He sounded... tired.

"What are you talking about? Why?"

"It's Blaine. He's in the hospital." Sebastian's voice cracked and Kurt was sure his heart skipped a beat. His entire body tensed up, fingers clenching hard around the steering wheel. "It's bad, Kurt."

Kurt signaled for the next exit to turn around, his body moving on autopilot.

"I'm on my way."