Chapter 19

Kurt and Blaine were still nestled on the couch several minutes later. Neither boy was saying much, but it was a comfortable silence. The TV was playing in the background but no one was paying particular attention to the movie that was on the screen. Burt and Carole had remained in the kitchen, hoping to give the boys a chance to talk.

Blaine had finished eating his second piece of toast and looked down to the coffee table where the final slice lay on the plate, smothered in melted, gooey, delicious smelling peanut butter.

He didn’t want to appear selfish, but he was still hungry and he didn’t want the food to go to waste, nor did he want the Hummels to assume that he wasn’t appreciative of their generosity.

Just as he leaned towards the table and reached his hand out to grab the remaining piece of toast, Kurt made the same move and the tips of their fingers connected ever-so-slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through the both of them.

The boys startled at the contact and stared at each other momentarily with wide eyes.

Blaine broke the silence after he awkwardly realized he’d spent the last several seconds staring directly into Kurt’s soul.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, reflexively moving his body away from Kurt’s. “You can have it! I didn’t mean to be a…”

Kurt cut him off.

“Blaine.” He said with a grin, reaching over and resting his hand on the other boy’s knee. “It’s okay. Honest. Go ahead.”

Kurt reached down with his other hand and picked up the plate, offering it towards the curly-haired boy sitting next to him.

Blaine seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking down at the piece of toast and then up again at Kurt.

“Wanna split it with me?”

Kurt smiled. “Sure, let’s do that.”

He took the piece of toast and gracefully pulled it into two halves, offering Blaine the slightly larger one.

This didn’t go unnoticed and Blaine smiled as he accepted his gracious offering.

“Thanks.”

The pair of teens went back to their comfortable silence for several minutes, with only the sticky sound of teeth munching on peanut butter filling the air.

When Blaine finished his half, he licked the remaining peanut butter from his fingers and looked over to Kurt as though he was about to say something.

The taller teen met his gaze, his face broke into a wide grin and he let out a giggle.

Blaine’s wide eyebrows knit in confusion as he ducked his head down; a heavy feeling of unease beginning to boil in his stomach.

What is he laughing at? Did I do something wrong?

He lifted his head and risked another peek over at Kurt, who this time, was unable to control the audible laugh that escaped his lips.

Blaine’s face flushed a deep shade of scarlet, whether in embarrassment or fear he wasn’t sure.

“Why are you laughing at me?” His voice sounded broken.

Kurt released a full diaphragmatic laugh now, which only fed into Blaine’s insecurities.

“You’ve…” Kurt managed to gasp between giggles. “You’ve got…”

He decided to give up on words and leaned towards Blaine, reaching out a long, delicate finger.

Blaine unknowingly shied away at first, which caused Kurt to stop his movement midair, and he seemed to re-think his course of action, now with a serious look on his face. He looked directly into the eyes of the boy sitting next to him for several seconds, earning back his trust. Once he was certain that Blaine wasn’t going to freak out, he leaned in closer and ran his finger down the end of Blaine’s nose, wiping away a small trail of peanut butter as he went.

He then looked back at Blaine, using only his eyes to point out the peanut butter that was now on his finger as if to say ‘See? No big deal…’ and proceeded to stick the finger in his mouth and suck off the peanut butter with an exaggerated ‘pop’.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief.

He was fine.

Albeit slightly mortified that he’d had food stuck to his nose.

Blaine couldn’t prevent the smile that found its way onto his face.

He was going to be okay now.

He looked back over to Kurt, who still had a goofy grin on his face. Blaine couldn’t help but chuckle. Kurt noticed the chuckle and began to giggle once again.

Blaine reached down to where the empty plate sat on the couch cushion between them, and ran his own finger through the trail of crumbs and the small puddle of softened peanut butter that had melted its way off the toast.

He looked back up to where Kurt was sitting, watching his every move.

Kurt’s left eyebrow was arched and resting significantly higher on his forehead than usual. His facial expression, mixed with the wide pair of dazzling glasz eyes staring at Blaine blatantly stated, ‘You wouldn’t dare…’

He dared.

Blaine suppressed a smile as he nonchalantly reached over and wiped his finger down Kurt’s cheek, leaving a greasy peanut butter trail as it went.

Kurt gasped in disbelief and his jaw dropped.

“As if you just did that!” He exclaimed, wiping his own fingers down his cheek in attempt to remove the peanut butter, which in actuality, led to the emergence of a larger smear. “Do you know how oily that is on my skin?”

It took all of Blaine’s willpower not to smile. He casually looked around the room in mock confusion, before returning his gaze to Kurt.

“Who me?” He shrugged. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about!”

The resulting moment of silence was shattered when Blaine could no longer contain his smile and a snigger escaped his lips.

Kurt’s attempt of looking irritated was also ruined and he too burst into a fit of silly giggles.

Soon enough, both boys found themselves giggling incessantly. Blaine was forced to hold his good arm around his ribcage to stop the throbbing pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed – let alone laughed to the point where the muscles in his jaw and cheeks began to ache.

Carole returned to the living room after hearing the chorus of giggles and was stunned to see both boys sitting on the couch laughing together. It amazed her that after all that had happened recently, the boys were comfortable enough with each other that they could share a good laugh.

“I see that the toast is all gone.” She said as she walked over to the table. “Did you like the peanut butter Blaine?”

Carole was bemused when both boys began to giggle once again at her words.

She’d obviously missed something.

Carole reached down to pick up the blue plate from the couch cushion between the pair of teens when Blaine suddenly jumped to his feet, which elicited a wince and a tiny groan. It was as though he’d temporarily forgotten about his injuries but instantly regretted it, based on the look of pain written into his dark features.

“I’ll take it to the kitchen!” He grimaced with a pained gasp he was unable to conceal. “I’ll clean up! You’ve done too much already! I can’t…”

“Blaine!” Carole interrupted, putting a hand on the top of his shoulder. “It’s okay honey! I’ll get it! Please just sit down and relax.”

“But…”

“No buts.” She said with a smile. “You need to take it easy for a little while.” She picked up the plate and looked back down at the youth, who was still standing up next to the table looking guilty. She looked thoughtful for a moment before she offered him another gentle smile and gently massaged soothing circles into the tense muscles of his shoulder.

“Is it okay if I steal Kurt for a little bit? I need his help with something in the kitchen.”

Blaine looked concerned for a fraction of a second before his entire demeanor seemed to relax and he released a loud breath and nodded.

Carole nodded as she removed her fingers from his shoulder and turned to step out of the living room. “I’ll have him back in a jiffy. You just try and relax a little, okay?”

He nodded again and watched as Carole and Kurt headed towards the kitchen.

Before he left, Kurt turned back around and flashed Blaine a brilliant smile that made the depths of Blaine’s stomach grow warm.

Smiling, Blaine gingerly bent over and picked up his glass of milk from the table and took a sip. He walked between the couch and the coffee table to the middle of the tiny living room and for the first time, looked around at his surroundings. The Hummel home was not large, nor extravagant by any stretch of his imagination, but it certainly had one thing that his home had never had.

Warmth.

There were no marble floors, concrete support pillars, expensive-looking tapestries or priceless works of art.

The colors of the Hummel’s modest living room, which Kurt had no doubt helped decorate, emitted a friendly, yet gentle atmosphere. There was a beautiful black piano tucked away in the corner of the room which looked untouched, but still remained spot-free from dust and clutter. Photos hung in frames throughout the walls, most featuring a wide-eyed Kurt in various stages of growth, and several of a beautiful blonde-haired woman with the same big blue eyes and slightly turned up nose.

Elizabeth.

It was completely apparent that Kurt got his stunning looks from his mother. Her eyes were just as big and beautiful and were filled with the same perpetual emotion as her son. Her smile was warm and Blaine noticed that it too was the same smile which belonged to the boy in the kitchen. Her grin spread wide across her face and her thin lips seemed to delicately hide her teeth inside her mouth. Even the woman’s eyes crinkled in the corners the same way that Kurt’s did when he smiled his most genuine smile. Blaine couldn’t help but allow his own smile to appear at the resemblance of Kurt and the woman in the photo.

“He looks just like her, doesn’t he?”

The deep voice from behind him startled Blaine and he turned around quickly. His trembling fingers slipped from the glass of milk he’d been holding and he watched in horror as it fell from his hand, clipping the edge of the coffee table before crashing to the floor in many pieces, with the remaining milk spraying across the carpet.

Blaine panicked.

“Oh my god! I’m s-so sorry. I-I didn’t… I’m such a…”

He noticed Burt Hummel staring at him from the other side of the living room with wide eyes and the panic reached another level entirely.

“I’m so s-sorry sir. I-I’ll clean it up… I-I didn’t mean…” He stuttered, reaching down to pick up the shards of broken glass with a trembling hand. Blaine was so flustered that he wasn’t paying attention and his hand slipped over a large piece of the broken glass, slicing through the delicate skin on the inside of his palm causing him to retract his arm with a hiss.

To his horror, he looked down to see a steady flow of crimson dripping from the laceration in his palm which then poured down his wrist and soaked into the carpet intermingling with the spilled milk.

Blaine’s stomach plummeted even further when he realized that the red blood would likely stain the Hummel’s pristine beige carpet.

Fuck. I ruined it. I ruin everything.

Blaine looked up with terrified eyes when out of his peripheral he could see Burt rushing towards him.

He dropped to the floor in a heap, clenched his bleeding fist and brought it up to protect his face instinctively, drops of blood still streaming down his arm and soaking into the sleeve of Kurt’s pajama top he was wearing.

He squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the hits to come.

The kicks. The angry words.

But they didn’t come.

Blaine hesitated for several moments, still breathing heavily, before he pulled his arm away from his face and opened his eyes.

When he saw the horrified look in Burt Hummel’s eyes, Blaine instantly knew that he’d misinterpreted the situation. He sheepishly forced himself to sit up from where he had been crouched down next to the coffee table and held his still-bleeding hand close to his chest, resting it on top of the sling which held his other arm in place. The blood that had already seeped into the sleeve of the pajama top had likely ruined it already, so what harm could a few more blood stains possibly cause at this point?

Blaine looked up again to where Burt stood motionless several feet in front of him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were wide, in shock, guilt and if Blaine wasn’t mistaken, pity. He held both of his hands up in front of him, indicating that he meant no harm, and Blaine noticed that the older man had taken several steps in the opposite direction to where he had been cowering on the floor.

Blaine and Burt kept solid eye contact for almost a full minute, neither saying a word. Blaine’s face expressed curiosity and confusion and Burt’s showing only sorrow and somehow, offering the boy kneeling in front of him, pure, honest trust.

After what felt like an eternity, Burt offered Blaine a tiny smile but maintained his distance and neutral disposition.

The muscles in Blaine’s legs were beginning to burn from the awkward position he was still crouching in, but he daren’t move.

Burt noticed that blood was still actively seeping out from the wound in Blaine’s hand and decided that approaching the terrified teenager would be a necessary risk.

“Blaine?” He spoke softly, only moving forward a single step. “Are you okay?”

Blaine waited a moment, looking directly into Burt’s eyes once again for several moments before slowly nodding his head once.

“It looks like you did quite a number on that hand. Can I take a look at it?”

Blaine’s eyes widened momentarily as he watched the older man step another pace closer to his position. Burt stood mere three feet from him and slowly extended his hand out, with his open palm facing upwards.

Blaine hesitated for another moment before he nodded slowly and cautiously extended his hand towards the other man. His fist was still clenched tightly, but dark red blood was oozing from between his fingers.

Burt slowly removed an old-looking blue and red table runner from the coffee table and held it out towards Blaine’s extended hand.

“I’m going to use this to stop the bleeding, okay?”

Panic returned to Blaine’s eyes and he fell back onto his rear end. “No! You shouldn’t touch it!”

Burt’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay buddy, I just want to help you out.”

“But…” It sounded as though Blaine was about to say something but then caught himself and remained silent.

“It’s alright. I’ve patched Kurt up lots of times. I’m not scared of a little blood.”

“But I’m…”

“It’s okay Blaine. Let me help.” Burt’s voice was soft and gentle as he took another small step towards the curly-haired youth.

Blaine looked down to his hand, seemingly thinking to himself before he looked back up to Burt and nodded slowly.

Two more cautious steps brought Burt close enough to the teenager that he could reach the injured limb. He slowly knelt down and carefully took the boy’s clenched hand in his own and couldn’t help but notice how violently Blaine’s fingers were trembling.

 “Can you open your fingers?”

Not a single muscle in Blaine’s face twitched as he unclenched his fist, resulting in several more drops of blood landing on the carpet.

An angry red gash stretched from the fleshy part between Blaine’s thumb and pointer finger and across his palm. It didn’t appear deep, but was wide enough that the bleeding had still not subsided on its own. Burt quickly pressed a corner of the table runner over the wound and was surprised that Blaine did not protest, or even wince, from the added pain. The boy simply stared at him with wide, caution-filled eyes.

Burt dabbed at the wound for several more minutes, thinking silently to himself when Blaine unexpectedly spoke up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and then he added. “For bleeding on your carpet, I mean.”

Burt froze and looked at the boy.

Seriously?

“And for spilling the milk.”

Blaine’s head dropped in obvious shame, causing Burt’s heart to shatter into a million tiny pieces not dissimilar to the shards of broken glass lying on the floor next to his knees. He sighed and continued dabbing away at the wound.

“Well.” Burt exclaimed, after the majority of the blood had been wiped from Blaine’s fingers and arm, “You know what they say about crying over spilled milk.”

Blaine looked up at the older man with a puzzled expression but said nothing.

“Don’t.”

A smile broke out over Burt’s face but lasted only a second when he realized that Blaine hadn’t appreciated his attempted humor. The boy continued to just stare at him as though he expected Burt to reach out and shake him.

Burt removed the cloth and looked at the wound once again.

“I don’t think it will need stitches, but we’ll have to rinse it out good and wrap it up nice and tight.” Burt explained, getting to his feet with a groan. “Why don’t you come with me into the bathroom and we’ll…”

A sharp gasp interrupted him and Burt immediately knew that he’d said something wrong. He silently cursed his carelessness. He didn’t need to look at the boy to know that he had tensed completely up and had likely turned white.

“Actually,” He amended, “Why don’t you hang out here and I’ll go raid the first aid kit? Carole just restocked it the other day.”

Burt was relieved to see that Blaine’s eyes had returned to their normal size and he’d relaxed significantly so he decided to test the waters.

“Good thing I know a hot nurse, hey?” He said with a wink.

The corners of Blaine’s mouth twitched and he lowered his gaze to the floor, trying his hardest not to smile.

Burt grinned and turned to walk out of the room.

“I’ll be right back buddy.”

He quickly darted out of the living room and into the kitchen where Kurt and Carole sat at the table, having a hushed conversation.

“How’s it going in there?” Carole asked. “We thought we heard a crash?”

“We’re good!” Burt announced happily. “I just gotta go find the first aid kit.”

Both Kurt and Carole looked at each other in concern.

Burt leaned over and gave Carole a quick kiss on the cheek and ruffled Kurt’s hair with his fingers.

“Don’t worry, we’re making progress!” He said and quickly padded out of the kitchen. “He’s even letting me touch him now.”

A moment of awkward silence passed before Burt appeared back in the doorway to the kitchen, travelling backwards and not making eye contact with either Kurt or Carole.

“That…uh… that didn’t come out right…” He stammered then continued down the hallway to the bathroom.

Carole and Kurt exchanged another glance and both broke out into a fit of giggles.

Burt returned to the living room several minutes later, carrying a handful of bandages, antiseptic creams and damp cloth. He noticed that Blaine still remained in the exact same position on the floor as when he’d left; the table runner, now completely saturated with blood, remained clenched in his right fist.

“How’d we do buddy?” He asked quietly, as he slowly approached the boy and knelt down beside him. “Did it stop bleeding?”

Blaine shrugged, but didn’t answer. He raised his hand up slightly, offering it to the older man and implying his consent to have it examined. His eyes looked cautious, but there was a tiny speck of trust evident within the hazel orbs.

Burt removed the bloodied cloth and tossed it aside, and gently began to pat the wound with the damp cloth. Blaine remained expressionless throughout the procedure. Even though Burt was dabbing at the laceration with only the slightest pressure, he found it hard to believe that the kid hadn’t even flinched. The wound wasn’t terribly deep, but it was wide and it had to be hurting.

Burt picked up a small vial of antiseptic solution and poured it gingerly over the wound. He felt Blaine retract his hand only slightly and heard a tiny hiss escape the boy’s lips.

“Jesus, you’re tough, kiddo. I’d have been crying like a baby by now.” Burt said with a chuckle.

He looked to where Blaine remained unmoving. The boy just sat there, vigilantly watching Burt’s every move. It was as though he was hollow, empty even, and Burt couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside the boy’s head.

After Burt insured that the bleeding was slowed, he applied a gob of antiseptic cream and a bulky dressing to the inside of Blaine’s hand and wrapped it securely with a roll of white gauze. It wasn’t pretty but he was confident that it would do the trick.

“Good as new.” Burt exclaimed, as he rolled back onto his feet. “See buddy? With a little help, everything can be fixed right up.”

He didn’t miss the tiny movement of Blaine’s head, and the moment that they made eye contact, Burt knew that Blaine hadn’t missed the hidden meaning of his statement.

Burt cleaned up the rest of the broken glass as Blaine sat on the couch, still silently studying the older man’s features. He didn’t appear as big and menacing as he had previously, for which Blaine was eternally grateful. In contrast, the bald man had relatively gentle features; every now and again he’d make eye contact with Blaine, giving him a friendly smile or a quick wink. But it was his eyes that Blaine noticed most prevalently. He’d never detected before, but Burt Hummel’s eyes seemed to emit an air of comfort and trust. Blaine wasn’t sure how, but the older man’s face seemed to present an image of kindness and was filled with hope. He also noticed that Burt’s eyes were the same color of green that matched the tiny specks which resided within Kurt’s brilliant glasz orbs when he smiled his widest smile.

When Burt returned once again to the living room after disposing of the broken glass and first aid supplies, he clumsily flopped down onto the lazy boy chair and grabbed for the remote control.

“I think there’s a game on tonight.  Wanna watch the end of it with me?”

Blaine settled himself onto the edge of the couch and nodded, not making eye contact. He was holding his bandaged hand on his chest, once again, settling it on top of his slinged left arm.

“Are you in any pain? I can get Carole to find some painkillers for you.”

“No, thank you sir. I’m alright.”

The quietly spoken words surprised Burt as he looked over from where he’d been watching the highlights of the evening game.

Blaine was staring off into the general direction of the television but did not seem to be focused on the game specifically.

Burt nodded towards the screen. “Do you watch many games?”

Their glances once again met and Blaine hesitated before opening his mouth to answer. “No sir. I don’t have… much time to watch TV.”

“Oh, okay.” Burt replied, not wanting to press the kid into answering any more questions.

Progress was being made.

Carole and Kurt took this opportunity to return to the living room. Carole made her way to the rocking chair in the east corner and Kurt crossed the floor and moved towards the couch, glancing down briefly when he saw the drops of blood on the carpet and the bandages wrapped around Blaine’s hand.

“Are you okay?” He asked slowly, with concern-filled eyes.

Blaine nodded once, and shamefully lowered his eyes ever-so-slightly. “I dropped my milk.”

Kurt immediately noticed the missing table runner from the oak coffee table and grinned. He sat down next to Blaine and leaned in close and whispered. “I’ve been trying to convince him to get rid of that god-awful table cloth for months!” He pulled away, still smiling, and leaned back into the opposite arm of the couch, sending Blaine a mischievous wink, which earned him a tiny grin from the other teenager.

The four sat quietly in the living room for several minutes before Blaine surprised everyone and spoke out loud.

“W-where’s Finn? Doesn’t he live here too?”

Burt and Carole exchanged nervous glances and Kurt swallowed slowly before answering in his best neutral tone.

“He’s staying at Puck’s this week. They’re working on a school project.”

It sounded rehearsed.

Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak.

“He knows not to say anything.” Kurt added moments later when the tension in the room was still thick.

Blaine’s face went slightly pale as he looked around the room and found three sets of eyes burning into him.

He nodded, feeling warm underneath the collar of the pajama top and returned his stare to the television screen.

At the end of the last quarter, Burt stood up from his chair and stretched his arms.

“Well…” He said with a yawn. “I’m gonna hit the sack. Early day at the garage tomorrow.”

Blaine’s eyes widened.

It was evening? He was so disorientated when he’d waken up that he never even bothered to look for a clock. How long had he been asleep?

Carole noticed Blaine’s sudden discomfort and stood up from the rocking chair.

“Are you okay honey?”

Blaine nodded, looking up at her with sad, questioning eyes.

“It's okay sweetie, you’re welcome to sleep here again. Kurt will get a new pair of pajamas for you to change into.”

Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed.

Again?

“Is it okay if we watch a movie? We didn’t get to finish… earlier.” Kurt piped up.

“Buddy, you’d better get to bed. You have school in the morning.” Burt spoke softly, but with a firm tone.

“What?” Kurt exclaimed. “I’m not going to school. I need to stay here…with Blaine.”

Burt’s eyes closed momentarily. He’d been waiting for this.

“Kurt, you need to go to school tomorrow. You’ve missed enough already.”

“But…”

“No buts.” Burt interjected. “Blaine will be fine here. Carole is not working tomorrow.”

Blaine’s face reddened. They were talking about him as though he were a child that needed babysitting. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience to anyone. He hadn’t even been expecting to stay the night. Again, apparently.

“I…” He started but was cut off by Kurt, who’d stood from the couch and had his arms outstretched.

“Dad, come on… it’s Friday anyway… what’s one more day?”

Blaine’s face lost all its color.

Friday.

“Kurt, you need to go to school. You’ve missed most of this week already by staying here.”

It’s Friday tomorrow?

“But, dad…”

How can it already be Friday?

“Not up for discussion Kurt.”

Oh fuck. I think I’m gonna…

Blaine wavered slightly, which was not noticed by anyone but Carole, who rushed to his side.

“Blaine? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Blaine stood up quickly from the couch and looked around quickly at the three faces which had all turned to look at him in concern.

“How long have I been here?”

Another worried glance passed between Burt and Carole, not going unnoticed by the boy standing in the middle of the living room.

“What day is it?”

Burt closed his eyes. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Blaine, sweetie…” Carole started. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

Blaine’s breathing picked up and he could feel the anxiety begin to rise in his chest. His ribs began to ache with the increased effort to inhale an adequate volume of oxygen.

“Can someone please just tell me what’s going on?” His voice cracked, making him sound very young and incredibly scared as tears materialized at the corners of his eyes.

Burt moved several steps to his left and gingerly laid a hand on the boy’s trembling shoulder.

“Blaine. It’s Thursday night. You’ve been with us for three days.”

The heavy feeling of unease boiling in the pit of Blaine’s stomach reached a crescendo.

No. That can’t be.

“You came here on Monday evening sweetie, don’t you remember?” Carole asked, also walking towards Blaine.

Blaine shook his head. “It…c-can’t be… I’m…Oh my god, he’s going to kill me…”

A wave of dizziness washed over him and he wobbled slightly on his feet.

“Easy there buddy.” Burt cooed, reaching an arm around the boy’s thin frame. “Are you okay?”

Blaine blinked several times, trying to regain his composure. The panic in his chest had reached an all-time high and he suddenly felt the urge to either vomit or dart out of the room.

Or possibly both.

He pulled away from the arm that was slung loosely around his shoulders and stepped away from the frightened trio.

“I have to go.” He said numbly, looking off into the distance.

“What?” Kurt asked, shocked. “You can’t go! You’re still… hurt.”

“He’s gonna…” Blaine whimpered to no one in particular. “Oh god… What did I do?”

Blaine brought his bandaged hand up and covered his face. He grabbed a handful of hair and shook his head quickly, causing silver dots to speckle into his vision. He closed his eyes briefly to control the nausea before opening them once again and turning to leave the living room.

Kurt looked at his dad for reinforcement, but was met with an apprehensive stare which didn’t pacify his unease.

“Dad?” He squeaked. “He c-can’t leave… Please tell him that he can’t leave.”

Burt instantly looked to Carole who simply shrugged. “We can’t let him go back there Burt…”

Burt grimaced and took off after the boy.

“Blaine, buddy?” He said, as he caught up to the boy who was dazedly padding through the house, trying to find the front entrance. “Wait up, Blaine. I just want to talk.”

Blaine ignored the voice behind him and continued through the kitchen until he saw the front door. Just as he reached out to turn the door handle Burt caught him and laid a firm hand onto his shoulder.

Blaine flinched away violently and threw himself against the door, sending a current of pain screaming throughout his torso.

“Don’t!” He cried. ”Please don’t touch me.”

Burt quickly removed his hand and took a step back.

Kurt and Carole remained in the doorway to the kitchen, both with tears streaming down their cheeks.

“Blaine, you need to listen to me.” Burt said firmly. “You’re safe here. No one can hurt you anymore.”

Blaine remained plastered against the door, his hand still covering his face. “He’s gonna be so mad at me…”

The terrified whimpers sent chills up Burt’s spine.

“Blaine. Open your eyes and look at me. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe here.” He reaffirmed.

Blaine shook his head, but this time opened his eyes wide before quickly turning and fumbling with the door handle.

Blaine managed to get the door open and slip through before Burt could regain a grip on his shoulder.  He’d taken several steps out the door into the cool October evening before Burt caught up to him.

“Blaine, its freezing out here and you’re not wearing proper clothes, let’s get back inside.” Burt said, nodding his head towards the house.

“No. I have to g-go.” He shrugged away once again from the contact. “Please just let me go.”

Burt’s heart shattered. He couldn’t very well hold the boy against his will, but the temperature had dropped dramatically and was only a few degrees above freezing. There was no way that he was going to let this terrified boy stumble off haphazardly on his own, in barefeet and wearing blood-covered pajamas.

“Blaine, I will drive you anywhere you want to go, but please just come back in the house and get dressed.”

That did the trick.

Blaine slowed to a stop near the end of the driveway but remained facing away from the Hummel home.

Burt approached Blaine carefully and walked around until he was standing in front of him. The boy was shaking, due most likely to fear rather than the cold. Burt made eye contact with him for several seconds before taking him into his arms and holding onto him for all he was worth.

Blaine started sobbing as he felt the man tighten his grip and run a large, callused hand through his messy dark curls.

“It’s gonna be okay buddy. We’re gonna get you through this.” He whispered softly.

The pair stood in the front driveway for several minutes until Burt loosened his grip on the boy and took a step back.

“Let’s get back into the house and get you warmed up, okay?”

Tears still flowed readily down his cheeks, but Blaine looked up at the taller man and gave him a weak nod.

Burt walked next to him with a strong arm around his upper back as they made their way up the steps and in through the front door.

The pair was met by an emotional Kurt, who dove in and took Blaine into his arms without warning. Burt winced initially, unsure of how Blaine would react to such unexpected contact but breathed a sigh of relief when Blaine sunk into the embrace.

Burt sighed and pulled the door closed behind him as he looked up at Carole. Tear tracks were still evident on her flushed face and her eyes were red and swollen. They gave each other a quick nod in affirmation before the two boys separated from their embrace.

“Come on Blaine, let’s get you warmed up.” Carole said, reaching out a hand.

Blaine tentatively stretched out his bandaged hand and placed it inside hers. She led him through the home into the main floor bathroom where a spare set of clothes and a large orange towel lay folded neatly on the sink.

“Why don’t you have a nice shower and when you get out, I’ll have a cup of tea ready for you.”

Blaine looked at the towel and gave a brief nod.

“Do you want me to help you get undressed?”

He shook his head quickly with wide eyes.

“Okay, how about I help you off with the sling and the bandages? We can re-do them when you’re done.”

Blaine looked at Carole thoughtfully before giving her silent nod.

Slowly, she removed the sling and helped him out of the pajama shirt, which she tossed into the laundry basket by the bathroom door. His chest was still speckled in bruises and the white bandages that had been binding his ribs had slid down his thin torso just slightly. She removed the bandages and examined the smooth skin that lay below. Many of the lacerations had healed slightly, but there were some that looked red and swollen. She’d need to apply some antiseptic cream to prevent the wounds from becoming further infected. Blaine’s left shoulder was far less swollen today, which she was happy to see, but was still slightly discolored and felt warm.

When he was left in nothing but the pajama pants, Carole turned on the shower and adjusted the water to warm and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Just holler if you need anything, okay sweetheart?”

Blaine nodded slowly without making eye contact.

Saddened, Carole turned to leave the bathroom, but then turned around once more.

“Blaine?”

This time his eyes looked up to meet hers and Carole’s chest ached when she saw the unmistakable manifestation of guilt and embarrassment written on his face.

“I’m glad you came back.” She whispered with a sad smile.

When she didn’t receive a reply, she turned around and slowly pulled the door closed behind her as she left, with a new chain of tears streaming down her cheeks.