"It's okay, He just looks like he's asleep." Burt said squeezing Blaine's shoulder. Blaine took a deep breath. He felt so afraid to see Kurt. That fact alone was enough to make him feel guilty. He loved Kurt, he loved him more than he had thought was possible. They had the type of relationship he had always secretly wished for. Perfect. He had seen Blaine, really seen him. It had taken a while but he had seen through the masks that Blaine wore and had accepted him as the dorky sometimes angry and imperfect person he was. He had held his hand at times when he had needed it. Talked to him or stayed silent when he needed it. They had their sweet moments when everything seem right and dazzling and unforgettable. And they had their not so sweet moments when they were annoyed at each other.

It was perfect, Kurt was perfect. But now there perfect little bubble had burst. He could not begin to process what had happened to Kurt. The pictures in his mind of Kurt lying floppy and bloody in his arms were enough. He would not be able to carry on if he allowed himself to think about what had led to that. He did not allow himself to picture some unknown other touching his boyfriend, hurting his boyfriend in such a way.

Blaine looked up at Burt, he had gone to long without answering and now Burt was bending down to try and see in his eyes.

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything Blaine, he's still out cold."

"But at some point I will. "

Burt looked down at the floor and sighed.

"Blaine. One day at a time, okay? You've been through a lot. I could not blame you for leaving Blaine."

Blaine shook his head.

"No..no. . I won't leave him. Not till I know he's alright."

Burt nodded.

"Good boy." He said. "Do this together?"

"Yes." Blaine agreed.

They walked into Kurt's room together.

He looked like he always looks when sleeping. Blaine wanted to smooth his hair down and kiss him lightly to wake him up except he was surrounded by machines. Bleeping machines and tubes connected to bags that fed things under his skin and his arms were covered in think bandages from wrists to elbows. He didn't look peaceful, he looked fragile, his Kurt was never fragile. He was strong. He knew how to fight. Why wasn't he fighting, why had he just given in. Blaine took two trembling steps to wards the bed and then collapsed into the chair by the bed.

He stared at Kurt for a long moment not sure what to do. He looked down and reached to take his hand but it felt cold beneath his fingers and it didn't move to clasp his as Kurt would always do in his sleep. He reached towards his face instead and cupped his cheek running his thumb over the soft cheek. He felt the starts of little bristle prick his skin. Kurt had not shaved that morning.

He wanted him to just open his eyes. Just for a second. He just wanted to see that shining calm blue. He bent his head low to Kurt's ear.

"Just open your eyes Kurt. Just open them for a second. Tell me you're still here with me. That you're still going to fight with me. Please Kurt.. just open your eyes."

Kurt didn't stir. Blaine noticed a spot of wetness on Kurt's cheek. He reached down and touched it with his finger tips surprised at it being their and wondering how it got there. When another dripped down he realized that he was crying. He felt a hand on his shoulder again.

"You're okay. Come on. Carol will drive you home."

The drive back out toward Lima was quiet. Blaine closed his eyes. He did not allow himself to think he did not allow himself to feel, he just existed. After twenty minutes he opened his eyes and looked across at Carol. She was concentrating on the road. She did not notice him looking at her, noting how the redness around her eyes made them look greenish and that there were tiny broken capillaries snaking red lines across the thin skin under those eyes. I looked like she'd been crying without restraint but all through the day she had had silent inoffensive little tears sliding down her face.

"Can I stay at yours?" Blaine asked breaking the silence.

Carol glanced across at him quickly before reaching over and squeezing his knee. Why did people keep touching him? The Hudson Hummels had never been so tactile before... Before, Affectionate, lightly teasing, but not tactile.

"Oh Hunny, we will call you if anything changes."

"I know." Blaine said trying not to think of what the possible changes were. " Can I stay at yours?"

Carol nodded slowly.

"Call your parents."

Blaine agreed and closed his eyes again.

Carol unlocked the door silently. They both walked in side by side. They looked around at the hallway. There were still signs of their hasty departure, A bloody towel on the floor that was quickly snatched up by Carol, the bowl where they kept their car keys had been upturned. There were muddy foot prints on the floor and through the door Blaine spotted a draw that had been dragged open and searched for documents.

Carol ran through the kitchen and into the little utility room at the back where she flung the towel into the washing machine. Blaine followed her. He wondered why it mattered? He had seen the bloody towel before, he was the one who had grabbed it and tried to wipe the blood away from his hands. Maybe she thought it would remind him of the trauma of the day, but he didn't need any help remembering, he thought it would be with him forever.

"Do you want something to eat?" Carol asked.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, thank you Mrs. Hummel. You must want to get back to Burt."

The words came automatically, it was so easy to be polite and charming when everything was going wrong.

Carol nodded. She took a step towards him and ran her hand down his back. He did not feel anything at the gesture.

"I can stay here, with you, for a little while if you want?"

"No, I just.. I just feel tired."

"Go sleep then. I'll call you soon and we'll all be back here later."

She kissed his cheek and left him in the kitchen. She did not immediately leave, she put all the documents into the draw and righted the upturned bowl before she did. The actions made Blaine angry, he did not quite understand but it was as if it was unfair that the signs of what had happened could so easily be removed from the house when they could not be removed from his mind.

She turned to him a final time, both stood awkwardly in the front room not knowing how to act to one another.

"Thank you Blaine."

"What for?" Blaine asked generally confused.

"For finding him."

His throat tightened and he thought for a moment that his heart was going to stop but he managed a short nod.

He was relieved when the door shut behind Carol and he was on his own.

He walked up the stairs desperate for a little time alone away from the bright lights of the hospital and the shocked sadness of Kurt's family. He forced himself to ignore the drips of blood that ran up them and through the landing.

He knew when Carol had old him to go get some sleep she had meant in the guest room. It was the first door at the top of the stairs but Blaine walked right past it. Instead he walked to Kurt's room and paused at the open door.

There was bloody footprints on the pale carpet and pieces of torn cardigan fabric were dotted around. Blaine had knocked over Kurt's glamming tub and there were sequins and little jewel flowers spread over half the floor. Kurt would throw a fit if he saw the state of his room as it was right at that moment. It surprised Blaine when he smiled at this thought but when he realized he was smiling it felt very wrong.

Blaine knelt on the floor and collected all the spilt sequins and torn fabric. He ignored the open door that he could see in the corner of his eye and the strong smell of copper. It did not exist at that moment in time. Once he had put the room back into the state it would usually be in he felt more comfortable. He went to Kurt's shelf and ran his fingers over the spines of his catalogued vogue copies and the well worn little copy of Alice in Wonderland. These were Kurt's things and they allowed him to feel close to him.

He looked up to the next shelf and touched the cool glass over the picture of Kurt's mother. She smiled back at him with Kurt's wide smile. He turned away not able to look at it for any longer. She was a ghost, a woman who only existed in memories.

He turned and went over to Kurt's desk. A pot of his cream had been left out. Blaine undid the lid. He lifted in to his nose and breathed in the faint smell of lavender. It was the smell that always clung to Kurt's skin first thing in the morning; the smell that if he breathed in real hard he could smell when they sat together in the car on the way to school. He closed his eyes and imagined himself burying his neck into the soft skin of Kurt's neck and breathing in this scent.

Sighing he placed the pot back down and sat on Kurt's bed. He was so tired. He reached out and grabbed the pillow hugging it close to his body for a second. There was that smell, the smell of lavender and with it all the others. Kurt's shampoo, his body wash, his perfume. It was Kurt. But it wasn't. Because Kurt would wrap his arms around Blaine and tell him everything was alright. He threw the pillow down angrily and let himself fall back on the bed. He was met with his own face, eyes closed and laughing as Kurt whispered in his ear. It was Kurt's favourite photo of him, a real little moment capture in black and white. They had been so happy, so so happy. Blaine flung his arm out knocking it to the floor. He punched the pillow under him once before collapsing into loud uncontrollable sobs.

-----------

"You're so Beautiful Kurt, so, so Beautiful."

Blaine said stopping to look down at his boyfriend. He was transfixed by him. The way his fine hair was mussed up and his lips were plump and his eyes were close. His favourite part was the light pink blush that was spread across his cheeks. Kurt opened his eyes at is muttered words and blinked up at him with a contented smile. He wrapped his arms around his neck and raised his head just enough to place a soft kiss to Blaine's lips.

They did not need to say anything.

They moved together wrapped in the most intimate of ways, free to let each other hear their moans and see the pleasure pass across their faces. They were safe in the knowledge that there was no judgement here, just trust, acceptance and love.