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*** TRIGGER WARNING ***

This chapter may contain depictions of violence, coarse language and non-consensual sexual acts.

~~~ This story is rated 'R'. ~~~

Viewer discretion is STRONGLY advised…

Chapter 27 Part One

Burt Hummel sat at the oval-shaped oak table with his chin in his hand staring out the kitchen window at nothing in particular. Sleep pulled at his tired eyes and a long, drawn out yawn brought moisture to the corners of them as he mindlessly watched a Bluejay land on the frost-covered railing of the veranda and pick at an invisible speck in the pristine white snow.

It had been a long night.

A very long night.

Blaine had woken up at least four times throughout the course of the evening.

Well… not fully woken up exactly, but the boy had been plagued by dreams; nightmares really, that had him whimpering and crying out on several occasions.

The first few times Blaine's fearful cries had stirred them awake, Carole had gone in and sat with the troubled boy, although he was never really conscious enough to know that she was there. Finally, by the third time, Burt himself had gone in to sit with Blaine until the nightmare passed and he was able to fall back into a seemingly restless slumber.

Burt's heart had broken more and more with every painful whimper and moan he'd heard that night.

He wished there was more he could do.

When Blaine had woken up screaming at just after 2am, Burt was almost certain that the boy would never be able to sleep again. He'd never heard such a terrified wail.

He could only imagine what (or more frighteningly, who) had been plaguing Blaine's mind to cause him to sound so frightened.

Burt was relieved that Kurt had been able to calm Blaine enough to silence the sobs and choked cries. After he was certain there was no more he or Carole could do, they'd left Blaine in Kurt's capable hands and returned to bed, both at a loss for words.

Now Burt sat at the kitchen table, with memories of the preceding night tumbling through his exhausted brain.

Will Blaine ever have a restful sleep again?

Will he ever be able to trust anyone after all he's been through?

Burt couldn't answer these questions, and that cut into his heart more and more as he thought about it.

It was almost eight o'clock; the sun had just peeked above the horizon through the crispness of the chilled winter air. He and Carole had decided to sleep in this morning – they'd earned it.

They'd actually managed to sneak in a few hours of sleep following Blaine's last episode, much to Burt's surprise. He'd assumed that the boy would keep up his disrupted sleep pattern, waking up every hour or so from the nightmares that besieged his brain.

But he hadn't.

It appeared as though Blaine was able to drift back off to sleep after all.

Or else he hadn't even bothered.

Maybe he'd just laid awake for the rest of the night to avoid having the nightmares come back.

But either way, they hadn't heard any further whimpers or cries coming from down the hallway after Kurt had managed to settle Blaine down and help him back into bed.

Burt wasn't sure if the silence was comforting or foreboding.

"Why don't you just go and check on him?" Carole asked softly, as though reading his mind. She placed a mug of steaming black coffee on the table in front of him and allowed her fingers to linger on his hand gracefully. "You're not going to be able to think straight until you've seen for yourself that he's okay."

"He either got back to sleep and didn't wake up again or he laid awake the rest of the night." Burt sighed. "But either way, I didn't hear him cry out again."

"I know, honey." Carole sighed. "It's going to be a long healing process for him, emotionally and physically."

The pair remained quiet for several minutes as she pulled out a chair next to Burt and sat down at the table with her own cup of coffee.

"I'm shocked Kurt hasn't been up to check on him yet." Burt said, looking up from his mug.

Carole smiled thoughtfully. "I can't believe how close they've grown in such a short amount of time."

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Burt grimaced. "Should I be worried about that?"

Carole shrugged. "I think they're good for each other. Blaine has needed someone like Kurt since… well, since before I met in him the hospital two years ago."

"And god knows it's good for Kurt to have someone to talk to as well." Burt admitted. "I haven't always known the right things to say to him. We barely have anything in common."

Carole smiled and reached her hand over until her fingers were intertwined with Burt's once again.

"You have done an amazing job with him, Burt." She said lovingly. "He's a sweet, caring boy."

They sat in silence for a while, both enjoying their cups of coffee until Burt swallowed the last sip from his mug and got to his feet.

"I'm just going to peek in at him and make sure that he's okay."

Carole smiled knowingly and took another sip from her own mug as Burt disappeared down the hallway.

She'd just swallowed the last drop of her own coffee when Burt re-emerged several minutes later with a look of satisfied wonder on his stubble-covered face.

"Everything okay?"

"I should have known." He looked up at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

Carole frowned and cocked her head to the side. "Hmmm?"

"He's sound asleep." Burt said confidently.

Carole's heart warmed, but before she could reply, Burt's face broke into a grin and he continued.

"…with Kurt snuggled in tight beside him."

"Oh?"

"Yup. Little bugger must have snuck in during the night." Burt explained. "They're both cuddled up face-to-face under that mink blanket you put in there."

Carole's eyes widened.

Of course they are.

No wonder Blaine slept through the rest of the night.

Burt chuckled before adding. "And Kurt must have brought Thumpy up for Blaine."

"Thumpy?" Carole asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He's this little stuffed rabbit that Elizabeth bought him years ago." He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure he's slept with it every night since she passed away."

"That's sweet." Carole smiled warmly.

"Blaine has it tucked in under his arm." Burt explained fondly. "And Kurt is laying with his forehead pressed into Blaine's."

Carole tilted her head in wonder as she imagined the scene. She was tempted to peek in on them quickly, just so she could see for herself.

"They're holding hands, Carole." Burt spoke up several minutes later. "Are you sure that I shouldn't be worried?"

"Kurt seems to know what he's doing." Carole shrugged. "And Blaine wouldn't let him be that close if he was uncomfortable."

"I suppose." Burt admitted. "I'd just hate for Blaine to freak out and lose that trust he has in Kurt. He's the only one that seems to get through to him right now."

"I agree. The bond they share is truly inspiring, isn't it?"

Burt nodded.

"Yes, and it's great that they have each other to deal with all of this, but I still think I should have a little talk with Kurt this morning when he gets up."

"A talk about what?" A sleepy voice sounded from the doorway into the kitchen.

Burt and Carole both turned simultaneously in their chairs to see a sleep-dishevelled Kurt walk into the kitchen while stretching his arms out above his head as his mouth opened widely in a lazy yawn.

"Good morning Kurt." Carole said quickly.

"Sleep well?" Burt added.

Kurt yawned again as he reached into the cupboard next to the sink and pulled out his favourite green coffee mug.

"Uh huh." He said tiredly, pouring coffee from the pot into his mug before adding with a third yawn, "Eventually."

"I saw that you snuck in with Blaine sometime during the night." Burt got right to the point.

Kurt turned to his dad with a slightly guilty look on his face.

"That's okay, isn't it?" He asked cautiously. "He texted me when he couldn't sleep."

Burt nodded. "Is he still sleeping now?"

"Yeah." Kurt said. He leaned against the kitchen counter and took a quick slurp of his coffee. "It was pretty late when he finally passed out."

"Do you think he'll be okay to wake up by himself?" Carole asked.

"I left him a note." Kurt grinned proudly as he brought the coffee pot over and refilled both Carole's and Burt's mugs.

Carole noticed the twinkle in Kurt's eyes as he was no doubt recalling the details of the note he'd left for Blaine.

"That's probably a good idea. We don't want him to be afraid when he wakes up." Burt admitted, taking a small sip of the new scorching hot coffee.

He'd obviously not caught the same twinkle that Carole had.

"You're not mad that I stayed with him last night are you, dad?" Kurt asked, turning back from the counter after he'd replaced the coffee pot in the warmer. "He was pretty freaked out after that last nightmare."

"No." Burt sighed. "But you need to be very careful about how you deal with Blaine for a little while, buddy."

Kurt frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that you have to be cautious until Blaine is feeling better. His mind is pretty confused right now."

"I'd never hurt him, dad." Kurt said defensively.

"We know that honey." Carole cut in, sensing Burt's discomfort. "What your father means is that Blaine is still very fragile right now and something as little as an unexpected touch or someone saying the wrong words could easily set him off."

"He trusts me." Kurt responded despondently.

"We know that, Kurt." Burt replied, placing his hand on his son's slumped shoulder. "We just want to make sure that it stays that way."

Kurt looked as though he was going to say something further, but instead, he shrugged off Burt's hand, turned towards the refrigerator and poured a glass of orange juice before returning to the table and pulling out a chair to sit across from his father and Carole.

Burt cleared his throat. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation with Kurt… like… ever… but it was long overdue.

"Kurt…" He started with a heavy sigh, "Blaine has been through… a lot over the past couple of years. More than any one person should ever have to deal with, let alone a good, young kid like Blaine. He's been dealt a shitty hand, and he's powered through with more strength than I could ever hope of having, but you have to understand, he has been let down from the very start."

When Kurt didn't say anything Burt continued.

"His family abandoned him, Kurt. Literally." Burt scowled as he spoke. "Even after he'd almost been killed by those idiot kids from his school, they abandoned him. Then after the stuff with his dad's lawyer friend, they actually went one step further and kicked him out of his own home."

Burt had to gulp down his obvious emotion before he could continue.

"He'll never get over that, Kurt. As strong as he is, and as good a mask that he hides underneath, he's never going to be 'okay' with that. Your family is suppose to love you unconditionally, and his…" Burt released a frustrated breath. "…his family just threw him to the wolves. Kicked him out and made him fend for himself… at fifteen years old…"

Carole stood then and pressed a loving hand into Burt's shoulder when she realized that he had grown too emotional and was not going to be able to continue his practiced speech.

"Kurt, honey." She began. "What your dad is saying is that Blaine has lost so much already. Losing his family like that has undoubtedly left a hole inside of him. From what I've learned about him, even when he did live at home, they treated him very poorly. We had some very deep conversations at the hospital as he was recovering. He told me how his father had unrealistic expectations of him while he was growing up, and how he always felt as though he was a disappointment and could never properly 'measure up' to his older brother. It took a lot out of him, even before he was actually kicked out."

Kurt nodded sadly.

"From the sounds of it, he started at Dalton once he got out of the hospital and things started to look up for him. He made some great new friends, but that was also the time that he joined that fight club and started dating that Sebastian asshole." Burt had regained his composure and started speaking again, and when he spoke Sebastian's name, his voice was filled with angry acid. "By then, Blaine was so used to having people walk all over him that he didn't even see anything wrong with the situation."

Kurt looked up from the spot on the table that he'd been staring at for the past several minutes. He understood what his father was saying to him, but the words were tearing at his heart.

"Kurt, you know as well as I do that his 'relationship' (Burt accentuated the word with air quotes) with this boy is or was an abusive one." Burt said firmly. "He filled Blaine's mind with lies and false promises, and because he was the first person to pay any real attention to Blaine after the shit that went down with his family, it made it that much easier for Blaine to believe it. He was craving the attention. He'd been starved of it for so long, that he was blind to Sebastian's abusive tendencies."

Carole once again stepped in and continued where Burt left off.

"He may have thought that what he and Sebastian shared was real, special even, but he wasn't involved with him because he thought he was in love with him. He was with Sebastian because he was scared to be alone, Kurt." She explained sadly. "He likely thought that he'd rather be with Sebastian – even if he was treated so poorly - than to be with no one at all. I think after everything he'd been through, he was terrified to be alone."

A chill crawled up Kurt's spine as he considered Carole's words. He had often wondered what Blaine had seen in that filth of a criminal chipmunk.

Sebastard.

His thoughts were broken as Carole continued.

"Then, the horrible, awful things that Blaine was subjected to in that motel room…" She shook her head sadly. "Kurt, you have to understand what that did to him. Any ounce of self worth that he may have miraculously had left by that point was stolen away from him. They robbed him of his innocence, Kurt."

Tears had gathered at the corners of Carole's green eyes and her voice had begun to tremble slightly towards the end of her last sentence, so Burt looked up at her and nodded.

He would continue from here.

"Based on what the police said, those assholes basically treated him like an animal. He was kept in that goddamn cage and only fed scraps when, and if, they felt like it. And I don't even want to begin to imagine the things that they did to him while he was being filmed."

Burt's face was red with anger and he clenched his fists below the table as he spoke.

"Right now he feels degraded, disgusting and worthless. They did that to him. And it's up to us to try and reverse those feelings." Burt explained. "He is going to have to heal both physically and mentally, and it's going to take time for him to be able to trust anyone again, as you've already seen."

"You're one of the only people that he feels comfortable with right now Kurt. He trusts you." Carole said with a smile. "He's barely spoken a word to anyone else – Your dad and myself included. But with you, he feels safe and protected."

Kurt's face flushed with warmth.

"That is invaluable right now." Carole continued. "You are the sole glimmer of hope that remains in that boy's eyes and it's crucial that you try and keep that in tact. You might be the only person in the world who can get him through this, Kurt."

Waves of emotion swirled through Kurt's chest. He felt somewhat overwhelmed by Carole's words, but at the same time, he was proud that he'd seemingly been able to make a difference.

He knew that it was his sole responsibility to keep Blaine safe from now on.

Burt and Carole exchanged knowing glances after they'd both watched Kurt absorb the information they'd given him.

Burt knew that it was a lot for his son to take in, but he also knew that if anyone in the world was strong enough to handle it… it was his son.

"Kurt, buddy?" He asked after a moment's silence. "Are you doing okay?"

"He needs me." Kurt said quietly. "I can't let him down again."

Burt looked at his son in concern.

Again?

That's what he took out of that entire conversation?

"Kurt, you did nothing wrong. If anything, you saved that boy's life."

Kurt shrugged.

"I should have known that something was wrong earlier dad." He frowned. "I could have prevented some of that… stuff from happening."

Burt frowned, stood up from his own chair and walked around the table to sit next to his son.

"Kurt, none of this is your fault." He said gently, and placed a consoling hand on his son's shoulder. "It was just an awful thing that happened to Blaine, but none of it is your fault."

Kurt looked downcast, but shrugged his shoulders at his father's words.

"But, just like Carole said, Blaine does trust you. And right now that is a very important thing; he is going to have a hard time trusting anyone for a long time." Burt said sadly.

"So we need to take advantage of that. He seems to relax more and sleep better when you're close to him, and he definitely needs to catch up on rest for a little while until he's all healed up."

Kurt remained looking down at the floral tablecloth.

"So, I guess what I'm saying is…" Burt started. "…that I think it's a good idea for you to sleep with Blaine."

Kurt's head shot up.

Whoa, what?

"That's not what I meant!" Burt corrected quickly, his cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. "I meant to say that it's okay for you to sleep together."

Kurt's eyes widened even more.

"Damn it, you know what I mean!" Burt was obviously flustered as the wrong words continued to tumble out of his mouth.

Carole tried desperately to contain the grin that was forming at the corners of her mouth.

She took another sip of coffee to prevent a giggle from escaping her lips.

After Kurt realized what his father was trying to say, he relaxed considerably.

"I know there is nothing… intimate… going on with you two right now, but you still need to be careful. Blaine still needs to heal – mentally and physically." Burt explained once he'd regained his composure.

"Trust is huge."

Kurt nodded, feeling a slight blush cover his cheeks. He was having a hard time looking his father in the eye.

They'd had 'the talk' quite a few months ago and this was almost as excruciatingly painful than that had been.

Their 'talk' had involved Burt tossing a few pamphlets on the table and sputtering some strangled sentences about the 'importance' of respect while Kurt literally plugged his ears and hummed as loud as he could.

"You two have a special bond." Carole spoke up. "But it's important for you to take things very slow. Let Blaine set the pace, okay?"

Kurt nodded.

There was a very loud silence that filled the kitchen for the next few minutes.

Kurt had just lifted the glass of orange juice to his lips and taken a large mouthful when his father spoke up again.

"So… are you two like… boyfriends…now or something?"

The orange juice that Kurt had just sipped nearly spurted out his nose as he looked up at his father in disbelief.

"Dad!" He choked. "Oh my god!"

"What? Isn't that what you call it?"

"Well, yeah." Kurt re-considered. "I guess so."

"So… you are boyfriends then?" Burt sounded entirely confused.

"No!" Kurt shouted.

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence as none of the three occupants of the kitchen could think of what possibly to say next.

"He'd never like me like 'that', dad." Kurt explained several minutes later after he'd regained most of his composure, and neither Burt nor Carole missed the obvious sadness that laced his voice.

"We're just friends."

Burt and Carole exchanged knowing glances before the elder Hummel looked back to his son with a sparkle in his eyes.

Riiiiiight. And Mickey Mantle was 'just' a baseball player.

About ten minutes later, Kurt, Carole and Burt remained sitting at the table in near-silence after the long chat they'd just had. Burt was anxiously fidgeting with a loose screw in the leg of the table and Kurt was pretending to read the fashion section of the newspaper, when a pain-filled sound in the hallway alerted him to a new presence near the kitchen.

He looked up from the table to see a wild-haired Blaine stumbling his way in from the hallway, slowly calculating each pain-filled step with a horrific look of agony written all over his face.

He appeared to be having a hard time standing up on his own, as he was slouched over slightly with his left arm still in its sling and the fingers on his right splayed across the wall as he braced himself heavily against it.

It looked as though the wall was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Blaine!" Kurt shouted, alarmed. He quickly stood up from his place at the table and rushed over to the struggling boy. He managed to get there and wrap an arm around Blaine's middle just as the teen's knees buckled, preventing him from flopping helplessly to the floor.

Kurt lifted him as gently as he could, until Blaine was once again vertical and stared deeply into his tear-drenched eyes.

"Blaine? What happened?"

Blaine avoided Kurt's gaze intentionally, but tightened his grip on the sleeve of the older boy's pyjama shirt until his knuckles were translucently white. His knees were still wobbly and he was relying heavily on Kurt to keep him standing.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked again. "Are you alright?"

No answer.

By this time, both Carole and Burt had stood up from their places at the table and had moved over next to where Kurt and Blaine remained near the wall in the kitchen entryway, both with anxious faces.

"Blaine?"

Kurt was sounding more and more concerned with each of his unanswered queries. He gently lifted Blaine's chin with his fingers until the troubled boy's eyes met his own.

"Please just look at me."

Blaine's face was scrunched in obvious discomfort, but the emotion that was displayed the most prominently was undoubtedly pure shame.

He looked devastated.

His empty hazel eyes were puffy, red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. Blaine's breath was coming out as weak gasps and sobs and his lower lip was trembling visibly.

It was obvious to Kurt that Blaine was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with him. He was blinking furiously between his stuttered breaths causing the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes to come dangerously close to falling down his cheeks.

Kurt was at a loss.

What the hell happened?

Did he overhear our conversation?

He tried to place his hands on either side of Blaine's face, but the struggling boy turned his head to the side hastily, seeming to not want anything to do with Kurt at that moment.

"Blaine, honey." Carole stepped closer, sensing Kurt's obvious heartbreak. "What's wrong?"

Blaine still refused to look at anyone or offer any words to appease the three concerned faces that surrounded him.

"Blaine." Burt said solemnly. He tried unsuccessfully to maintain a composed tone as he spoke. "Would you like to go lie on the couch for a little bit?"

His heart rate quickened slightly when Blaine finally acknowledged his presence for the first time and shook his head silently.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows.

Why won't you look at me?

He took a deep breath and decided to try a different approach.

He looks like he's feeling really ashamed; maybe I'll try to change the subject.

"I'm going to make pancakes for breakfast." He explained subtly. "Would you like to come into the kitchen with me?"

Blaine finally looked up from the floor until his sad hazel eyes became equal to Kurt's.

He stared at him for several full seconds, obviously conflicted, before pulling his lower lip in between his teeth and shrugging sadly.

Kurt smiled hesitantly and straightened his posture before turning back to face the shorter teenager once again.

"Would you like me to help you walk to the table?"

Blaine shrugged again without looking back up at Kurt.

"I'm going to put my arm around your waist so I can help you, okay?"

This time he received a hesitant nod.

Progress?

Kurt slipped his arm carefully around Blaine's torso and together they took a small step in the direction of the kitchen table.

The moment Blaine's foot connected with the floor, he released an agonized gasp that sent chills up Kurt's spine.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Kurt asked, but he already knew what Blaine's answer would be before the words had even left his lips.

As predicted, Blaine shook his head quickly, sending his long dark curls dancing above his reddened ears.

"Okay." Kurt sounded disheartened. "We'll just go very slow, alright?"

Blaine didn't reply, but rather kept his eyes on his feet, still calculating each and every fraction of an inch that he moved.

Burt and Carole exchanged concerned looks as the two boys inched their way towards the kitchen table.

"It must have taken too much out of him to walk out here." Carole whispered to Burt sadly. "I guess he's just not physically ready to be walking on his own yet."

Burt frowned.

This poor kid is trying to be so strong.

It's like he's afraid to show any kind of weakness.

"Maybe his muscles seized up on him overnight." She added in a hushed whisper. "But either way, he looks like he's in an awful amount of pain."

Burt nodded and they followed the two boys until they reached the closest chair and Kurt turned his head back and looked at his father.

"Dad, can you please get a pillow from the living room for Blaine?"

Burt nodded and disappeared across the hallway.

He returned seconds later with the fluffiest cushion he could find and placed it on the chair closest to Blaine.

Kurt looked back at the shorter boy, who now had his eyes clenched tightly closed, kept his hold around Blaine's waist and gripped the boy's free hand in his own.

"Blaine?" He paused until the other teen had re-opened his eyes and his pained glance met his own. "We're going to sit you down on the pillow now, okay?"

Blaine risked a glance down to the chair behind him, noticing the pillow on the seat for the first time.

He nodded slowly and tightened his grip on Kurt's fingers.

"It's okay, sweetie." Kurt reassured, feeling the increased pressure on the outside his hand. "I've got you. We'll just go nice and slow, okay?"

Another hesitant nod.

After Blaine took in an exaggerated breath, Kurt helped lower him down until he was seated on top of the cushion.

Immediately, Blaine squeezed his eyes closed and an excruciating hiss seeped out from between his teeth. He ripped his hand out of Kurt's and reached behind him to grip the back of the chair as he pitched himself forward, desperate to take some of the pressure off his tender backside.

Kurt bit his lip as he heard Blaine fail to hold back yet another whimper.

"Are you sure you don't want to lie on the couch while I make breakfast?" He asked despairingly. "I really don't mind, Blaine."

Blaine's face melted into another frown and he shook his head between aggrieved gasps.

"Do you want me to help you back into bed?"

Kurt's chest ached as Blaine's only reply was another minuscule headshake.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked to Carole desperately, but all the older woman could do was shrug her shoulders.

She had no idea what do to either.

Kurt's eyes raked over Blaine's quivering form, desperate for some kind of clue.

Did he have another nightmare after I left?

Maybe he didn't see my note and he thought he was left alone again?

But why does he look like he's in so much pain? He seemed to be getting better last night.

He took a deep breath; desperate to re-compose himself before he kneeled down in front of Blaine and carefully placed his hands on the tops of each of his knees.

"Blaine, I don't know what to do." He cried. There was zero evidence of composure in his ragged voice. "P-please… Just tell me what do."

The grimace on Blaine's face slipped from one caused by pain to another of pure guilt when he heard the obvious emotion embroidered into each of Kurt's words.

I made Kurt cry.

Again.

It's all my fault.

I finally decided to talk to him and look where that got me.

He hates me.

After everything I told him last night about what happened to me, he hates me and he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore.

I'm disgusting, why would he?

I should never have said anything in the first place.

'He' was right. He always told me to keep my mouth shut. He hit me when I tried to talk… or scream.

If Kurt really didn't care that I'm disgusting and used, and he really wanted to be my friend, he would have helped me.

He didn't help me.

He wasn't there when I needed him.

He said he'd never let me fall.

"Blaine, honey?"

Carole.

"Blaine?" She said again. "What hurts honey? Can you tell me?"

Everything.

Everything fucking hurts.

But I deserve it. I deserve this pain.

It's all my fault.

He felt Carole kneel down on the floor in front of him after Kurt had stood up and backed away. She gently pried his fingers off the back of the chair and clasped them between both of her own.

"Blaine?" She said softly. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

He was still breathing sporadically between clenched teeth but as he felt Carole's warm hands embracing his own, he lifted his head and finally allowed his eyes to drift open.

"There you are." She smiled sincerely. "Good boy."

Her smile faltered as Blaine's face finally ascended to meet her own.

The boy sitting in front of her looked absolutely shattered.

The pained grimace was gone, but it had been replaced by an emotionless, detached husk.

There was no sparkle in his hazel eyes whatsoever.

They were dark and hollow.

They looked hopeless.

Helpless.

Dead.

"Oh honey." Carole sobbed. "What happened?"

Blaine continued to stare right through the woman kneeling in front of him. His empty eyes were unfocused and glazed over.

"Blaine, it's Carole." She whispered sadly. "Can you hear me?"

His eyes flickered slightly and he nodded without looking at her.

"Sweetie, would you like your pain medication?"

Blaine's head shook only millimeters.

"Honey, I know you're hurting, and you don't have to be strong anymore." She said, gently rubbing her thumbs in circles over both of his knees. "Let us take care of you, and let the medicine do its job."

Blaine's expression remained stoic.

"You don't have to be scared, Blaine." She said softly. "Nothing is going to happen to you here."

Blaine's eyes suddenly flickered over until they were staring directly into Carole's.

Carole's heart rate quickened.

What is that?

Doubt? Or anger?

"Blaine? Did something happen?"

No response.

He just kept staring directly at Carole.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

Nothing.

"Kurt, will you please get Blaine's pills." She said, without moving her gaze from Blaine's.

"They're on the counter by the microwave."

Kurt dashed to the counter and grabbed the pills and a glass of water before returning and kneeling down next to Carole.

He was an emotional wreck.

Why wasn't Blaine looking at anyone?

Why wouldn't he speak?

What happened after I left him the note this morning? He was sleeping peacefully with Thumpy tucked in under his arm.

I'm sure I even saw a tiny smile on his face as he slept.

These questions and dozens more spun around Kurt's brain, making him feel slightly dizzy as he dropped a small white tablet from the pill bottle into his palm.

What did I do wrong?

Have I failed him in some way?

He looks so lost again.

I thought he was finally getting better.

I wish there was something I could say to take all of his pain away.

It seems like no matter what I do, I can't help him feel better.

I just wish he'd talk to me.

I need him to tell me what's going through his mind.

Help me understand what he's dealing with.

"Here honey." Carole whispered, taking the pill and the glass of water from Kurt. "This will help you feel better."

Blaine's eyes finally swam into focus on the pill resting in Carole's outstretched hand and his stomach clenched violently.

More drugs.

They always want me to take more drugs.

I can't fight back when I take them.

They make me weak.

I am weak.

I've always been weak.

My father was right all along.

"Blaine, please?" Kurt begged. His voice was rough and broke with emotion. "Please just take it. You're in so much pain."

Blaine pretended not to hear Kurt's pleas.

"You don't have to sleep if you don't want to." Carole suggested. "I know that's what you're afraid of. The pills make you tired and you're scared to fall asleep and have things happen to you, aren't you?"

Blaine's eyes widened.

"You don't have to sleep." She repeated. "You can sit right here, or on the couch, but you don't have to sleep."

Blaine seemed to consider Carole's words carefully for several seconds before he finally nodded.

Kurt and Carole both sighed heavily in relief as Blaine took the pill and placed it on his tongue hesitantly. Carole assisted him to lift the glass of water to his lips and wash the tiny pill down his parched throat.

"Good boy." Carole said softly. She climbed back up to her feet and placed a gentle kiss on Blaine's forehead. "Are you comfortable here, or would you like to move to the couch?"

Blaine shook his head numbly, not exactly answering her question, but Carole assumed he meant that he wanted to stay where he was.

"Okay." She agreed as she stepped back and placed Blaine's pills and glass of water on the counter next to where Burt was standing.

He had watched the entire scene unfold from several feet away, not wanting to add extra pressure to an already unstable situation.

Burt took a careful step towards Blaine and crouched down slightly until he was directly in the boy's line of vision.

"Blaine?" He asked cautiously. "Would you like me to get your journal for you?"

Blaine lifted his head slightly but avoided looking directly at the elder Hummel.

His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Kurt watched with narrowed eyes.

He'd seen Blaine's initial reaction.

He wanted the journal, but it was as though he was hesitant to let Burt get it for him.

"Would you like me to go get it?" He asked, testing his theory. "I promise I won't open it."

Blaine intentionally turned his head in the opposite direction to where Kurt was standing and shrugged.

A sharp ache burned in Kurt's chest and tears stung his eyes.

He felt rejected.

He wants the journal.

But he doesn't want anything to do with me.

What did I possibly do so wrong?

He gulped down a large lump in his throat, stepped aside and turned to go and fetch the journal.

Burt immediately picked up on Kurt's distress and placed an encouraging hand on his son's slumped shoulder.

"It's okay buddy. We'll figure this out." He whispered softly to his son. "He just needs time."

Kurt nodded impassively and shuffled out of the kitchen and down the hall towards Blaine's room.

Kurt could hear Blaine frantically scratching words into his journal as he collected the items he would need to make breakfast.

His mind hummed with possible explanations for Blaine's sudden change in personality.

It was literally as though he'd gone from complete trust in Kurt to not wanting anything to do with him overnight.

And that worried the hell out of him.

His father's words about trust being so crucial at this point rang through his mind.

Blaine doesn't trust me anymore.

I don't understand what I did wrong.

He risked a cautious, sideways glance over to the table and out of the corner of his eye he could see Blaine hunched over the table scribbling in his journal.

I wish I could read what he's writing.

Maybe that would help me understand.

Kurt shook his head as he turned back to the counter and began to measure out the ingredients for his pancakes.

I can't read it.

He trusts me not to read it.

At least he used to.

He sighed audibly as he folded the eggs into the pancake batter in the large Pyrex bowl.

I've tried everything.

He won't talk to me.

He won't tell me what's going through his head.

He's not even listening to me anymore.

I don't know how to get through to him.

What Kurt didn't realize was that after Blaine had finished his entry, he'd turned in his chair and was studying Kurt.

He watched Kurt's every move as the taller teen slid gracefully around the kitchen, dumping the ingredients into the mixing bowl mindlessly. He didn't measure anything; he'd obviously memorized the recipe after years of making breakfast for himself and Burt.

Blaine studied Kurt's posture as he stood by the counter mixing the thick creamy batter with a whisk.

His shoulders are tense.

He's upset.

I did that.

I made him sad again.

Kurt remained oblivious to the pair of sad, yet watchful hazel eyes that followed his every step.

The smell of freshly sizzled bacon had filled the kitchen when Burt and Carole entered from the living room about fifteen minutes later. They'd intentionally given the boys some privacy, hoping that they could patch up whatever it was that was bothering Blaine, but when they saw the tiny teen still sitting silently on his chair and Kurt with his back to him, purposefully fumbling around with dishes in the sink, they knew their plan had been unsuccessful.

They exchanged sad shrugs before each pulling out their chairs and sitting down across from each other at the table.

"Smells delicious, Kurt." Carole chimed, trying to dissolve some of the obvious tension that filled the air. "Thank you for cooking."

Kurt finally pried himself away from the counter, picked up the frying pan, which was filled with fluffy yellow scrambled eggs, from the stove and walked over to the table.

"Of course" He said in a forced voice. He scooped a large helping of eggs onto Carole's plate with a black silicon spatula. "You know I love to cook Carole, it's really no big deal."

He proceeded to walk around the around the table, filling a plate of eggs for his father, as well as the plate he'd set for Finn, who was still obviously downstairs, before stepping next to Blaine.

Both Burt and Carole watched hopefully as Kurt shyly coughed to bring Blaine's attention up from where he had been staring at a tiny imperfection in the wood on the table.

"Would you like some eggs, Blaine?" Kurt's voice cracked, and was several registers higher than he'd aimed for. His face turned warm as he felt the blush creep up his neck.

Blaine, refusing to look at Kurt directly, hesitated for a moment before looking across the table to where Carole sat watching.

She forced a smile onto her face and gave him an encouraging nod, trying desperately to mask her apprehension.

Blaine gulped before turning his head towards where Kurt remained standing next to him, but still avoided his gaze, and nodded very briefly.

Kurt breathed out a shaky sigh before delicately placing a scoop of eggs onto Blaine's empty plate.

"Would you like some more?" Kurt asked.

Blaine returned his eyes to the tiny knot in the table and shook his head once.

Kurt nodded awkwardly, took several steps over to his own place setting and lifted a small serving of eggs onto his own plate before returning the pan to the stove.

He sat down at the table, directly across from Blaine and looked up to see the teen still staring at the table.

"Would you like some bacon, Blaine?" Burt asked, handing the plate to the boy.

Without looking up, Blaine shook his head despondently.

"Are you sure?" Burt asked with a forced chuckle. "Kurt is really good at makin' bacon."

The moment the words slipped from his lips, Burt immediately felt embarrassed once again.

Chalk up another awkward moment at the Hummel breakfast table.

Blaine, completely oblivious to Burt's slip, merely frowned, reached over and took a single slice of bacon and set it on his plate next to his scoop of eggs that remained untouched.

Burt grimaced.

That didn't go as well as planned.

It almost looked like he felt guilty for not taking a piece.

I didn't mean to force him…

Oh god.

I have no idea how to deal with this kid.

Carole, sensing Burt's blatant discomfort, brought her hand up and reached across the table. She gave Burt's fingers a gentle, encouraging squeeze before taking the plate of bacon and setting two slices on her own plate and passing the dish to Kurt.

The tension in the small kitchen remained thick as the four occupants of the table began eating their breakfast. Burt was working on a high stack of pancakes, smothered in sticky maple syrup when he decided to try and break the ice.

"Any plans this weekend Kurt?"

It was a dumb question. He knew full well that Kurt was going to stay home with Blaine over the weekend. His son hadn't gone out with his friends in weeks, and he almost literally hadn't left Blaine's side since he'd been admitted into the hospital.

But he had to do something to try and alleviate the tension.

Kurt looked up from his plate and shrugged, picking up on his father's plan to lighten the mood.

"I have some homework that my teachers sent home for me, so I have to catch up on that." He said casually. "But otherwise, not really."

Burt nodded.

"I was… hoping just to hang out with Blaine." Kurt added on a whim. He risked a glance over to where Blaine sat and his chest ached when the curly-haired boy didn't offer even the slightest response.

"That sounds like a good plan." Carole cut in, once again sensing Kurt's emotional distress.

"Blaine, would you like to maybe watch a movie or something with Kurt?"

There was a long, horribly awkward pause.

Kurt was almost certain he could hear crickets chirping as he waited for any inkling of a reply.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of awkward silence, Blaine gave everyone what they'd been waiting for when he looked up at Carole and shrugged his shoulders just slightly.

Burt sighed.

It wasn't much.

But it was something.

Silence once again ensued for several minutes before everyone was alerted to heavy thumping up the basement steps.

Finn was awake.

The lanky quarterback dashed into the kitchen without making eye contact with Blaine or Kurt, ripped open the fridge door and pulled out the orange juice and proceeded to take a large swig – right from the carton.

"Finn!" Carole exclaimed with wide eyes. "What the…? Use a glass!"

Finn quickly tipped the carton back upright, replaced the white cap and literally tossed it back onto the top shelf before closing the fridge door and wiping his sleeve across his face.

"Sorry." He mumbled, still not looking up.

He was about to scurry back out of the kitchen when a shocked Burt Hummel spoke up.

"Don't you want some breakfast? Kurt made bacon."

Finn stopped dead in his tracks.

Shit. I knew I shoulda just left.

"Uh, no thanks Mister… uh… Burt." He said sheepishly. "I'm heading over to Puck's."

"You don't want a bite before you go?" Carole asked. She'd expected Finn to be awkward about the situation, but this was a bit extreme. He was intentionally avoiding even looking at Blaine.

This was not going to help Blaine's confidence at all.

Finn looked as though he was going to decline her offer, but a stern glance from his mother made him reconsider.

"Uhhh yeah, I'll just grab a pancake and a few pieces of bacon to go." He stammered. "Is that okay Kurt?"

Kurt shrugged without looking up from his plate.

"Knock yourself out."

Literally.

Finn leaned over and grabbed a pancake from the stack and stuck several pieces of bacon inside of it before rolling it into a makeshift sandwich. He then proceeded to jam the entire thing into his mouth at once, making Carole's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Fhanth uude." Finn garbled between chomps, causing several large crumbs of pancake to fall out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. "Iutth wully gwoob."

Kurt finally looked up when he heard the nearly incomprehensible words of appreciation from Finn and his eyes widened in disgusted horror.

"What was th…? Oh my god, Finn!" Kurt squawked. His face was scrunched up in obvious revulsion.

"That's disgusting!"

"Whua?" Finn managed, several more crumbs made their way out of his mouth and joined their comrades on the floor.

Kurt couldn't even speak.

He just continued to stare abhorrently at Finn as the awkward teen proceeded to chew sloppily until he'd swallowed down the last bite and his mouth was finally clear.

By this time, even Blaine had looked up to see what was going on. At first he'd turned his stare to Kurt, but when he saw the obviously offended look on the boy's porcelain face, his gaze drifted over (and up) to Finn and he had to consciously hold back a smile.

He watched intently as Finn reached over towards Kurt's plate, where a single pancake lay untouched next to a slice of crispy bacon.

"You gonna eat that?" Finn asked, completely oblivious to the numerous dropped jaws around him.

Kurt shook his head.

"Uhhh, no." He said sarcastically. "For some reason I seem to have lost my appetite."

Finn nodded, grabbed the pancake and the slice of bacon from Kurt's plate, created yet another rolled sandwich and proceeded to scarf if down in one bite as well.

"Fweet, fhanth uude"

Kurt looked at Blaine at the exact moment the younger boy chose to redirect his glance back to Kurt and they shared a very brief exchange.

Can you believe this guy?

Finn cleared his throat after swallowing his mouthful and reached back over to grab Kurt's glass of orange juice.

"Do you mind…?" Finn asked.

Kurt, completely dumbfounded by this point, merely shook his head.

"By all means… help yourself." His voice was laced with hostile sarcasm, and Blaine had to once again bite his lip to keep himself from smiling.

Finn literally gulped down the orange juice, and was just about to turn and walk out of the room before a look of realization hit him and he reached into his jeans pocket.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot." He said, pulling something from his pocket and setting it on the table next to Kurt. "You left this downstairs last night."

Blaine's eyes widened when he realized what the item was.

Kurt's phone.

"It's been buzzing all morning." Finn supplied casually, finally turning and walking out of the room. "Someone must have really needed to get a hold of you."

Blaine dropped his fork.

It clattered loudly onto his plate, spraying bits of scrambled eggs all over the surface of the table.

The loud crash made Carole and Burt both turn to look at him in concern.

Carole immediately noticed the look of sheer horror that had taken up residence on Blaine's face.

His cheeks had lost all color and his eyes were wide and guilt-ridden.

As soon as Finn was out of earshot, Carole set down her fork, looked at Blaine and spoke as softly and calmly as she could manage.

"Blaine honey? Are you okay?"

Her words never seemed to register with Blaine, as he continued to stare at the phone lying on the table with wide eyes.

"Honey, I'm so sorry that Finn acted that way. I talked to him a little bit last night to explain your… situation. Please don't be upset. He's just really confused."

"He's always confused." Kurt muttered under his breath.

"I didn't tell him everything. I'll leave that up to you, if you want to… later." Carole continued. "He doesn't exactly understand, but he promised that none of it would leave this house."

Her eyebrows furrowed when she realized that her words were still having zero impact on the boy sitting next to her.

"Blaine? Did you hear what I said?"

Blaine's mind finally translated the words directed at him and he nodded numbly, but he continued to stare at Kurt's phone.

Oh my god.

He didn't…

Oh god.

What have I done?

He's going to be so upset.

Damn it!

I should never have…

Fuck.

Burt and Carole turned their worried glances towards each other and both shrugged simultaneously.

Kurt, oblivious to the exchange, reached over and picked up his phone from the table and clicked the button to turn on the screen.

Blaine, watching his every move with terrified eyes, grimaced and his face fell completely into a pit of shame and guilt when Kurt released a horrified gasp.

Kurt slid a shaky finger across the bottom of the screen and his eyes widened horrifically when it flashed open. The phone slipped from his fingers and fell to the table with a loud clatter and Kurt lifted his trembling hand up to cover his gaping mouth.

"Kurt?" Burt exclaimed, his heart racing. "What the hell is going on?"

Tears began streaming down Kurt's cheeks immediately, desperate sobs slipped from his lips and he slowly turned to face Blaine as a shiver streaked up his spine.

"Kurt?" Burt repeated. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Burt's concerned words fell on deaf ears as Kurt managed to painfully lift his heavy, tear-soaked eyes up until they met Blaine's.

The boy looked completely devastated.

His face was crumpled, causing his wide eyebrows to be knit almost completely together in what looked like a combination of guilt, shame and despair. Blaine's lips were parted, just slightly, as an apology lingered on the tip of his tongue, desperate to escape. Tears had gathered in the corners of his miserable-looking, hazel eyes, and his face was white, impossibly white, causing him to look as though he could pass out at any second.

"B-Blaine…" Kurt wept, shaking his head apologetically as tears continued to slide down his cheeks. "I-I'm so, so sorry."

Blaine sucked in a ragged breath at Kurt's broken words and pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down harshly.

He was trying desperately not to cry, but a single tear slipped out from its place at the corner of his eye and crept down his cheek at a painstakingly slow pace.

Kurt watched the tear slide down Blaine's cheek until it dripped off the side of his stubble-covered chin and landed on the table silently.

"Blaine…?" He tried again. His voice sounded meek and unprepared. "P-please, just say something…"

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt while his mind exploded with thoughts and memories, all horrible reminders of how much he truly needed the boy sitting across from him.

Burt and Carole both sat opposite of the two boys in complete and utter confusion.

It was the first time that Blaine had even looked at Kurt all morning and the expression on his face was almost unreadable.

Was he angry?

Or was it guilt that had spread across his darkened features?

"Blaine, please…" Kurt begged. "I didn't know… I swear, I didn't know."

The desperate pleas that slipped from Kurt's lips sent pangs of further guilt surging through Blaine's core.

It's not his fault.

He's trying to help me.

He didn't know.

It's not his fault.

Blaine's remorse-filled eyes finally flickered away from Kurt's and lolled aimlessly.

"Blaine?" Carole cut in; trying desperately to maintain what shred of composure remained.

"Whatever… happened, you need to know that Kurt would never hurt you, okay?"

Another broken intake of breath sliced through the silence that followed as Blaine turned to face the woman sitting across from him.

She looks scared.

Like she might even cry.

Oh god.

Why do I keep making everyone cry?

"Blaine?" She asked again. "Did you hear what I said?"

Blaine's eyes snapped back up to meet hers once again.

What did she say?

Oh right… Kurt.

He forced himself to nod once, only slightly.

"Blaine?"

This was Kurt's voice again.

It didn't sound as broken this time… But even with the hint of relief, he sounded mostly concerned and distraught.

"Blaine, please look at me."

Blaine blinked away several tears that threatened to betray him and slowly turned his head until he was once again looking solemnly into the eyes of the boy who'd done nothing wrong.

He lost himself momentarily in the wide, normally ocean blue orbs that stared back at him intently, but something wasn't quite right.

Kurt's eyes looked grey, sad and forlorn and his face was filled with sorrow and guilt.

"B-Blaine?" He sounded so young.

He sounded terrified.

"I-I didn't know."

Blaine's heart clenched at the hurt in Kurt's voice.

"Blaine, p-please… You have to believe me…" He cried again. He stood up from his chair and stepped towards the other teen and knelt in front of him. "You know I would have come to help you if I'd known…"

Blaine flinched when he felt both of Kurt's hands press gently on his knees.

"I'm so sorry." Kurt sobbed. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were stained with salty tear tracks. "I'm so sorry I left you. I should never have left you alone."

By this time, Blaine was unable to prevent the tears from streaming down his own cheeks. A shiver snaked its way up his spine and he shuddered visibly.

He didn't know.

It's not his fault.

He didn't know.

"Blaine, you know I'd never leave you, right?" Kurt tried desperately to control the pitch of his voice. He needed to sound brave and confident.

"No matter what happened to you, what they did, or how you feel. I'll never leave you."

Blaine pressed his eyes closed, forcing several more silent tears to fall.

"You know that, right?"

Still with his eyes closed, Blaine felt Kurt take his hand between his own and lace their fingers together.

The calming squeeze was enough to break down Blaine's walls.

He won't leave me.

I don't have to be afraid.

"Right?" The question hung thickly in the tense air.

Blaine took a deep, stuttered breath, re-opened his eyes so he was looking right at Kurt and he suddenly felt the empty expanse which had been growing in his chest begin to slowly disintegrate.

The ache that had caused his brain to feel numb and his throat to feel tight subsided and he was able to breathe again.

It took him a few seconds to convince his brain to properly communicate with his body, but eventually he allowed his fingers to reciprocate Kurt's gentle squeeze.

And he nodded.

It took a few minutes for Kurt and Burt to help Blaine into the living room and get him sitting on the much softer couch.

He'd barely eaten any breakfast, but no one was going to push him.

Blaine still hadn't spoken a word, and he was still having difficulty maintaining eye contact with anyone for extended periods of time.

This bothered Kurt.

After the discussion he'd had with his father, less than an hour prior, he was immensely concerned that he'd just shattered what little trust that Blaine had in him.

He couldn't believe what had happened.

He'd left his phone in the basement when he'd gone upstairs to be with Blaine for the night.

Blaine had evidently fallen on his way out to the kitchen and had tried to call him for help.

When he didn't answer, Blaine's obviously confused and paranoid mind had convinced itself that Kurt was ignoring his calls and texts intentionally.

It sickened Kurt to think that the boy had been laying on the floor for over fifteen minutes in agony and no one had come to help him.

Kurt couldn't help but feel horribly guilty.

Blaine was supposed to be safe here.

Once he had Blaine situated on the couch comfortably, Kurt disappeared into the kitchen, returning minutes later with a large wooden-framed whiteboard and a handful of multi-colored dry erase pens.

Blaine looked up at him curiously when he sat down next to him and pulled the whiteboard into his lap.

"We need to talk." Kurt explained. "And I know you're not really ready to literally speak out loud, so I thought this might be the next best thing."

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt doubtfully.

"Think of it like your journal." The taller teen suggested. "You're able to write things in there that you can't say out loud, right?"

Blaine shrugged.

"The best part?" Kurt said with a devious grin. He uncapped a navy blue marker and scribbled a string of words across the board.

You can erase everything right after so no one else can ever read it.

He then uncapped a few other pens from the handful he'd brought and spent several minutes doodling a silly looking character with curly hair and triangular eyebrows wearing a bowtie before wiping the board clean with the green striped dishtowel he'd brought along.

"See?" He said, wiggling his own eyebrows with a giggle, "If you excuse my poor artistic skill, it's not so bad."

Blaine looked up at Kurt with wide eyes.

Did he just draw… me?

The shit-eating grin that remained plastered on Kurt's face all but answered his question.

A smile tugged at the corners of Blaine's mouth when he saw the twinkle that was nested in Kurt's eyes.

Wait… how did he know that I love bowties?

Afraid that he would be unable to contain the grin that was pulling at his lips, Blaine looked down at the now-empty whiteboard. Every inch of Kurt's drawing from seconds ago was gone.

Wiped clean.

There was not even a shadow of color from the pens remaining.

It looked brand new.

He couldn't believe how easy it was to start over.

Start fresh.

With no lingering effects.

No tainting marks, scars, or bruises.

He brought his right index finger over and wiped it down the centre of the board slowly, before turning it over and examining it immediately after, but there was no evidence of the markers whatsoever.

"Do you wanna try?" Kurt reached over with his handful of coloured pens, offering them to Blaine.

When Blaine didn't respond or make any movement towards the pens, Kurt's heart sunk in his chest.

I'd really hoped to cheer him up with this idea.

Suddenly, Blaine reached over and took several of the pens from Kurt's fingers, looked up at him with a devious glint in his eye and a crooked smirk and began scrawling his own picture on the whiteboard.

When he finished, Blaine sat back up and ran his tongue over the front of his teeth slyly before handing the pens back to Kurt.

Kurt accepted them with a snort.

"I'll have you know… Mr. Anderson…" He said in mock disgust. "Because I take such good care of my skin, I will still look like an angelic little baby when I'm ninety three and you… you will look like an old boot."

This time Blaine was unable to capture his smile with his teeth before it snuck out, along with the tiniest of giggles.

"The hair actually looks pretty good." Kurt admitted with a chuckle. "But what's with the music notes? Am I singing in the shower?"

His face immediately turned pink.

Nice move, Hummel… Make him think about you in the shower…

Blaine pretended not to have caught the unintended innuendo hidden in Kurt's question and shrugged. Then he reached over and took an orange marker from Kurt's hand and wrote a new message on the board.

I like hearing you sing.

Kurt smiled.

Maybe my plan will work after all.

He un-capped the navy blue pen and replied directly below Blaine's printed message.

You're not so bad yourself.

Blaine looked up at Kurt with knitted brows.

He didn't have to ask, the question was written obviously on his face.

How would you know that?

Kurt's face pinked up once again.

Another mention of the shower? Really Kurt?

I'm worse than my dad for saying stupid things at the most inopportune times.

"I… uh… might have heard you singing in the shower at school…"

Blaine's eyes widened and some of the color drained from his face.

He looked as though he was going to say something, but instead reached down and scribbled a hasty note on the board.

When?

"Uh… that day in the locker room. After you were beating the hell out of the punching bag and before we went for coffee?" Kurt supplied with a slightly guilty look.

And just before I saw you wearing nothing but a towel.

A tiny little red towel that barely covered your…

Kurt shook himself from his thoughts and looked back at Blaine, trying to decide if he appeared embarrassed, angry or creeped out.

He was slightly surprised when Blaine looked… curious.

The curly-haired teen returned his orange pen to the whiteboard and scrawled another note.

You watched me box?

"Uhhh…" Kurt stuttered. "Yes."

Blaine's eyebrows knit again.

"But, not… like stalker-ly... or anything." Kurt fumbled. "I just had no idea you could."

Blaine shrugged.

He took the green cloth from Kurt and wiped the whiteboard clean before starting another note.

It was the fight club. That's how we trained.

Kurt nodded.

There was a minute of slightly awkward silence before Blaine decided to steer the conversation away from anything to do with Sebastian.

Did you really think I was good? At singing, I mean?

"Yes!" Kurt squeaked, maybe slightly more enthusiastically than necessary.

"Like… really good, Blaine."

This time it was Blaine's face that flushed pink.

"Even if it was Katy Perry." Kurt added with a wink.

He leaned over and nudged Blaine's shoulder jokingly, making Blaine blush even more.

"You shouldn't hide your voice." Kurt said moments later.

"It's beautiful."

Blaine tried to force a smile to his face, but failed miserably. He hesitated for several seconds before uncapping his pen once again.

I'm sorry I doubted you.

Kurt looked as though he was going to say something in reply, but Blaine continued scrawling his message on the board without looking up.

I'm just so confused about everything right now.

I should have known you'd never ignore me on purpose, Kurt.

I was just so scared that you didn't like me anymore after we talked about… stuff… last night and it really freaked me out that you didn't answer your phone.

I guess I'm just so used to getting let down by everyone around me.

He waited until Kurt had finished reading the last line before wiping off the board and continuing.

I know that I need help right now, but at the same time, I don't want to be a nuisance.

I wish I could manage things on my own.

But based on what happened this morning, it's obvious that I can't.

I wish I could just open my mouth and explain it all to you, but I can't do that either.

I'm sorry.

My mind is all messed up.

He wiped the board before taking a deep breath and continuing.

Kurt shuddered as he read Blaine's next words.

For so long I was just told to shut up.

That nothing I said even mattered.

Then, in that stupid motel room…

His hand hesitated as he was obviously contemplating whether or not to continue his improvised speech.

Kurt sensed his discomfort and set the rest of the markers on the coffee table before resting an encouraging hand gently on Blaine's knee next to where the whiteboard sat.

Blaine took another deep breath, nodded, and then continued.

They didn't like it when I screamed.

They wouldn't even let me talk.

Ever.

If I did… then…

Kurt allowed Blaine a few seconds to continue, but when it became apparent that he was completely lost in his own mind, he carefully took the pen out of the boy's hand and replaced the cap.

"Blaine?" He said softly, taking Blaine's now-trembling hand into his own. "You don't have to be scared here. No one is going to make you do anything. You get to be in control and make your own decisions now, okay?"

Blaine blinked repeatedly, took in an exaggerated breath before he noticed Kurt's encouraging smile and nodded.

"You don't have to talk to us if you don't want to, but just know that I…we love you and we love it when you talk to us." Kurt stumbled slightly in his speech, and his face warmed as he wondered if Blaine had heard his momentary slip-up.

The pair of teens sat in silence for a few minutes before Kurt got to his feet.

"I'm going to leave the whiteboard here, in case we need it later, okay?" He said.

He wiped the board clean, carefully removing every speck of Blaine's words before he placed it along with the pens on the coffee table. "I'm just going to go downstairs and get something, okay? I'll be right back."

Blaine looked up at him and nodded.

Kurt scampered out of the room, but returned seconds later with Blaine's journal and his pen in his hands.

"Just in case you get bored while I'm gone." He explained with a wink.

He handed the leather book to Blaine, smiled and left the room once again.

Blaine looked up just as he finished his entry to see Kurt waltz back into the living room carrying his black iPod dock from his bedroom in the basement.

He plugged it in next to the couch and set it down on the coffee table before turning to look at Blaine.

"I know you're having a hard time right now Blaine, and sometimes I don't know how to talk to you either, so I'm wondering if it would be okay if I tried something else?"

Blaine pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and shrugged.

Kurt took a deep breath and took Blaine's hand into his own.

"Maybe talking is not the answer." He said thoughtfully. "Maybe I can show you the way I feel in the best, most honest way I know how."

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt with wide, unsure eyes, having no idea what the other teen was suggesting.

"May I sing for you?"

Blaine's honey hazel eyes widened immediately.

His lips parted and a gentle gasp seeped through them as he nodded without taking his eyes off the boy seated in front of him.

Kurt smiled as he reached over to the docking station and pressed play on his iPod.

Blaine's skin tingled as several deep piano notes immediately sounded only seconds before Kurt began to sing an unfamiliar, but hauntingly beautiful song.

Take a breath

I pull myself together

Just another step until I reach the door

You'll never know the way it tears me up inside to see you

I wish that I could tell you something

To take it all away

Sometimes I wish I could save you

And there're so many things that I want you to know

I won't give up till it's over

If it takes you forever I want you to know

When I hear your voice

It's drowning in a whisper

You're just skin and bones

There's nothing left to take

And no matter what I do I can't make you feel better

If only I could find the answer

To help me understand

Sometimes I wish I could save you

And there're so many things that I want you to know

I wont give up till it's over

If it takes you forever I want you to know

That if you fall, stumble down

I'll pick you up off the ground

If you lose faith in you

I'll give you strength to pull through

Tell me you won't give up cause I'll be waiting if you fall

Oh you know I'll be there for you

Blaine couldn't prevent the tears that were falling from his eyes during the instrumental break in the song.

Kurt's voice was strong, and proud and beautiful and the way he looked at Blaine with so much emotion in his eyes sent a torrent of chills prickling up his spine.

The lyrics were evocatively and perfectly accurate.

Blaine had never heard the song before, so he'd clung to each and every word that Kurt sang in perfect tune with the music.

As the lyrics started again, Kurt picked up Blaine's hand in his own and stared deep into his hazel eyes.

If only I could find the answer

To take it all away

Sometimes I wish I could save you

And there're so many things that I want you to know

I wont give up till it's over

If it takes you forever I want you to know

I wish I could save you

I want you to know

I wish I could save you

As Kurt sang the last line in the song, Blaine could no longer help himself. The tears that were now flowing freely down his cheeks were not caused by sadness or despair, but rather hope and trust.

He really means it.

He's never going to leave me.

Once the music ended, Kurt reached over and soundlessly pressed pause on his iPod before turning to look at Blaine once again.

His heart warmed and he felt his throat constrict slightly when he saw for the first time, that the tiny sparkle of hope that he'd seen once before in Blaine's gorgeous hazel eyes had finally returned.

Kurt was about to speak when Blaine's voice, albeit slightly broken with emotion, filled the silence.

"T-Thank you."

Kurt had no words that could possibly justify an appropriate response; so instead, he leaned forward and took the boy into his arms and held him in a long, and tender embrace.

I love you Blaine.