“Daddy…daddy wake-up. I can’t sweep.” Blaine stirred, the words reaching his ears without any meaning actually being attached to them as he felt something poke him gently in the chest. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to see the outline of a small figure trying to climb onto the bed but seemingly having trouble and slumping back onto the floor past his vision of the edge of the mattress. Blaine breathed deeply, trying to wake himself as he scooted across the sheets to lean over the bed, his eyes gradually focusing in the dark until he noticed the small boy of no older then three trying to prop himself back up on his feet from the carpet beneath him. The little boy’s head lifted and he noticed a rather familiar pair of brilliant blue-green eyes peer back at him, a small frown appearing on his eyes as the boy reached his arms towards Blaine. He pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned over the edge to gently pull the toddler onto the bed, running his fingers lightly through the wispy soft brunette strands of hair on his head, they just looked and felt so familiar…. “Daddy I couldn’t sweep. It’s scary outside,” the boy whined as he leaned into Blaine’s side, his eyes sad and frightened, though from what he wasn’t exactly sure. But right at that moment he heard a crackle outside the nearby window and a flash of bright white light closely followed by a low rumble, the small figure curling further into his side and whimpering sullenly. “James, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Blaine comforted the toddler as he proceeded to lay down and rest his head back against a pillow, his son crawling under the covers and pressing himself against his chest as the man wrapped his arms securely around the boy. “Everything will be okay…” he murmured tiredly before he slowly slipped back into a deep slumber.

The musician felt his leg slip against soft material as he subconsciously noticed the shift in weight against the surface beneath him, his body slowly turning from being on his back until he was laying on his side towards the minuscule fluctuation in mass. Blaine softly ran his tongue along his lips, licking them lightly as he slowly stirred for what seemed like the second time that night, his eyes gradually prying themselves open until he recognized a figure sitting on the edge of his bed. He picked his head up a little, glancing down at the pillow he was holding tightly in his arms, feeling somewhat confused. A sharp pain resonated through his forehead and spread to the rest of what felt like his brain, his fingers delicately pressing against skin of his forehead, rubbing at it in gentle circles until he finally lowered his hand and returned his attention to the figure nearby. “Kurt?” he murmured sleepily once he recognized the actor sitting on the edge of the bed. Blaine slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, still trying to wake himself and wonder if this was just another dream, because honestly why would Kurt be in his room at this time of the night? But once his eyes had adjusted and he had a better sense of his surroundings and what was going on, he simply just had a feeling that it wasn’t fake, that this was real and the theater major was actually right in front of him in the musician’s sweats that he had let the man borrow. Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed at Kurt’s facial expression, he seemed just as frightened and upset as a slowly deteriorating vision of a small boy - who oddly looked all too similar to the actor - and suddenly he felt the need to comfort him, to hold him close and make sure that whatever was bothering him ceased to haunt his thoughts and feelings. “Hey…come here,” he said quietly, reaching a hand out to grab Kurt’s as he gently pulled him towards him, Blaine lowering himself back onto the bed and lifting the covers with his other hand so the actor could get beneath them.

Kurt could help the shaking, the quickness of his breath, the tears rolling down his cheeks; he was terrified of something he had no control over, something which just seemed so powerful and giant, something looming over their heads and so threatening and angry. He wanted to know why this was all so terrifying, why he couldn’t lose this paralysing fear of something so much greater. He held his breath, turning to watch Blaine shifting, conflicting with his fear and guilt from stirring the musician. He watched Blaine rubbing at his head and was about to question if he was okay or not before another crack of thunder shook the thin walls and Kurt jumped, arms wrapped around himself as he closed his eyes against the violent flashes creeping through the cracks in the curtains. As soon as he felt Blaine’s touch to his hand, his eyes shot open and he couldn’t help but crawl under the covers and burying his face into Blaine’s chest, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if it was a life like that he needed and craved. This was a warm cocoon, it felt safe and comfortable. Sure he was still shaking and maybe he was clutching too tightly onto Blaine and with every nearing crash of lightening, the actor was jumping and sobbing louder, calming between the crashes and flashes and letting his body uncurl from the tense awkward position he’d been in. “I-I’m sorry f-for waking you…” Kurt hiccuped between shaky breaths. He felt pathetic and yet there was an element of the actor knowing that Blaine just wouldn’t judge his breakdown at all. He knew that there was some form of understanding between them enough for Blaine not to ask questions, not to think that he was completely losing it and going insane and to just comfort him more than anything. He nuzzled into Blaine’s chest subconsciously just like as if he was back as his eight year old self cuddling into his mother. It made him realise just how much he’d come to rely and trust Blaine, the fact that he was the first person he’d thought of to run to.