Author's Note:

I've done this chapter a little bit differently... It's such a hugely important part of Blaine's story, that I thought it warranted it's own spotlight and it's very own title, hence it not following the lyrics of the song. I had a good friend of mine, Alix, co-write this one with me and I'd like to send her a big THANK YOU for her support and guidance.

This is it, my beautiful readers... the true beginning of Blaine's healing...

ENJOY

XOXOXO

- Ryleigh

There You Are, I've Been Looking For You Forever

As Kurt re-entered the bedroom, he felt a flutter in his chest when he saw Blaine seated at the desk, scribbling in his journal. His heart warmed and a smile appeared on his face when he heard the faint notes of soft music echoing from the speakers of a CD player on the bookshelf next to where Blaine sat.

He's writing again.

And he's listening to my CD.

Kurt stood silently in the doorway for several seconds, simply staring at the back of the boy hunched over the desk.

He heard Blaine release a heavy sigh as he gently recapped the black pen he'd been writing with and flipped closed the cover of his journal before binding it securely with the long thin strip of smooth brown leather.

He didn't want to startle Blaine, but at the same time, he didn't want it to appear as though he'd been creepily staring at him either, so Kurt elected to step back out of the room and return seconds later.

This time when he entered, Kurt noticed that Blaine had spun around in the desk chair and was now facing the doorway.

"I'm back." Kurt said with a soft smile. "And I've got everything we'll need."

He entered the room quietly, his arms full of the supplies that he'd gathered for Blaine's haircut.

Ideally, they wouldn't be completing such a task in a carpeted bedroom with minimal light, but since it was just past three in the morning, Kurt had concluded that a select few items from the kitchen would make it a little easier to deal with.

Blaine's shoulders instantly relaxed as Kurt's presence filled the room once again.

Without a word, he looked up at the taller teen, only noticing for the first time that Kurt's arms were filled with an assortment of… stuff.

Blaine's head cocked to the side curiously and he did a visual inventory of Kurt's gathered materials as the older teen unceremoniously dumped the armload onto the bed.

Towels.

A spray bottle.

An apron.

And a bright yellow tablecloth.

Is he cutting my hair or hosting a BBQ?

He couldn't contain his puzzlement as he watched Kurt unfold the tablecloth and lay it methodically over the carpet in the middle of the bedroom.

"We don't want to get hair clippings on the carpet." Kurt explained without looking up. It was as though he'd read Blaine's mind and answered the boy's unasked question without even thinking about it.

Blaine shrugged indistinctly.

Makes sense, I suppose.

"Do you mind rolling your desk chair over here?" Kurt asked nonchalantly. "It will work perfectly as a salon chair."

The dark bushy eyebrows on Blaine's forehead knitted instantaneously.

Salon chair?

Kurt didn't miss the hesitation.

"It's time for you hair appointment, Blaine!" Kurt said with an exaggerated grin. "You didn't think I was going to just snip your beautiful curls off into the trashcan, did you?"

Kurt paused after the words had slipped out of his mouth, and his toothless grin faltered slightly.

'Beautiful' may have been too much.

If his hair was what was tethering Blaine to his nightmares... he'd have to tread carefully.

But if he was being honest, Kurt couldn't help himself; He'd been finding it harder and harder to refrain from calling Blaine 'beautiful' every time he spoke.

Across the room, Blaine didn't know what to think.

He was hesitant to feel… enthusiastic about his impending haircut, but something about the grin that Kurt had flashed him seconds ago reminded him of something he hadn't seen or felt… in a long, long time.

It was like staring at the sun after days and days of rain.

"O-Okay." Blaine stuttered slightly before slowly wheeling the chair towards the middle of the room and directly to the center of the tablecloth. "Is… is this okay?"

"Perfect." Kurt said cheerfully, looking up with a smile. He indicated to Blaine that he would like him to take a seat, and when the shorter boy had tentatively done so, Kurt spun the desk chair around until they were once again face-to-face.

The swivel chair was a perfect prop for Kurt's charade.

"Welcome to the Hummel Salon, Mr. Anderson." Kurt stood up straight and spoke in an elegant, almost over-the-top professional tone. "Perhaps it's not the business my dad always dreamed would be attached to his name, but alas… here we are."

A short, amused breath came from Blaine at Kurt's improvised introduction; not a snort, and not quite a giggle, but Kurt noticed that it was definitely laced with a touch of enjoyment.

He grinned and pulled another item from his pile on the bed.

The apron.

Before Blaine could even question it, Kurt had whisked the fabric over his chest.

This time, the shorter teen couldn't help but giggle as he looked down.

The apron had to be Carole's; it was bright pink and had a huge cartoon chicken on it.

Kurt's heart swelled at the sound.

There he is.

There's the Blaine I've been looking for.

He was careful not to tie or wind the apron strings around Blaine's chest and neck.

Instead, Kurt chose to let the fabric drape softly, just enough to protect the teen from the locks of itchy hair that would soon be falling.

Blaine glanced down at Kurt's long, gentle fingers as they arranged the fabric gently over his chest.

They didn't grab at him.

No… they were going to free him.

They were going to cut away the ties that he still felt when he woke up every morning; the way his neck shrunk in and his ears and jaw clenched as he waited for the inevitable yank that always came.

Blaine's heart warmed slightly when he realized that that yank might not ever come again.

After the apron was properly positioned over Blaine's chest, Kurt turned the chair just slightly to the right until Blaine was looking into the mirror on the top of the dresser.

Any development of hope that had grown in Kurt's heart wilted away when he saw Blaine flinch and immediately turn his eyes away from his own reflection.

"Blaine?" Kurt knelt down next to the desk chair and whispered, breaking character for the first time. He thought he'd play a role, attempting to put Blaine at ease, but he knew he needed the teen to know it was really himself kneeling next to him.

"K-Kurt... I can't... "

Kurt's heart shattered at the desolation etched into Blaine's words.

"Blaine, honey…" He started slowly, drawing Blaine's chin up with the edge of his finger carefully until their eyes met. "You don't have to look in the mirror if you don't want to, but… you shouldn't be afraid… or sad. You are beautiful exactly like this." He ran his other hand gently through the back of the younger teen's messy curls.

"N-n-no… I'm not K-Kurt..." Blaine's face turned away from Kurt's once again and he looked even more ashamed.

"Yeah… you are." He reassured. "You don't need a haircut to be beautiful, Blaine. You just need it to feel safe."

Blaine sucked in a surprised breath, but kept his eyes intentionally averted.

How does he always know…?

"And when we're done, you're going to be beautiful AND you're going to feel safe." Kurt continued optimistically. "But if, while we're doing this, you start to feel scared or anything, I need you to tell me and I will stop immediately, I promise. You're in charge here…okay?"

Blaine closed his eyes and sighed.

As he pulled in another lungful of air, Kurt's vanilla and cinnamon scent, so strong at his neck, invaded his senses.

It reminded him of something.

He couldn't quite remember specific details, but it felt as though Kurt had done this once before for him.

Blaine drew in another deep breath and risked a glance up into the mirror to see a version of himself sitting in the chair next to Kurt.

From inside the mirror, Kurt's glasz eyes were staring back at his own, and were filled with concern and… love.

"D-did we... have we done this… b-before?"

A sharp gasp filled the silence as Kurt recalled the image of Blaine's outstretched neck that day in the hospital. He could still feel the plastic razor in his hand and recalled the way he'd held Blaine with his eyes.

He'd never forget it.

Before Blaine had any reason to trust him, he'd tilted his head back and taken a deep breath.

Kurt couldn't be sure of what Blaine did and didn't remember from those days of medicinal haze and fear; the teen had barely known what was going on in front of him, but he obviously remembered the trust he'd given Kurt.

"Something like this, yeah." Kurt confirmed warily. "You... you let me shave your face for you in the hospital. I was so proud of you, Blaine." Kurt held his eyes in the mirror for several seconds, trying desperately to enforce that he still was, and always would be proud of the boy in the swivel chair.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the scent of shaving cream, minty and sharp, assaulted Blaine's memory.

"You... you were n-next to me." Blaine's face fell into a contemplative frown as he reached back into his memory bank.

"Yeah, Blaine. I was." Kurt remembered the way his fingers had trembled, for just a second, before he'd lifted the razor. The fear that he wouldn't be safe enough, gentle enough, and that he'd hurt this beautiful boy even worse than the world already had.

Blaine's face dropped and he looked down to his lap.

"…didn't talk."

It was barely a whisper.

"You were having trouble with your words." Kurt confirmed, placing his hand gently on Blaine's knee. "But even then, you were the bravest person I'd ever met."

This time it was Blaine who gasped.

His chin shot back up and he glanced at the Kurt in the mirror next to him with a look of shame mixed with sorrow and guilt.

"You had to... t-take me to the... the bathroom." Blaine whispered the last word, almost inaudible, so ashamed at the sudden memory of Kurt standing next to him on the tile.

Tears sprung to his eyes.

Kurt gently reached his hand up to Blaine's cheek. It was a risk, but one he had to take. He needed to try and get Blaine to see what he saw.

Blaine felt Kurt gently lift his chin up until he could see Kurt's wide, blue beacons shining for him from inside the glass, and he focused on their light.

Like a lighthouse, guiding him home.

"And you let me." Kurt answered, never breaking his stare with the younger boy in the mirror. "You kept taking every step you possibly could, in my arms. You let me hold you through your nightmares in that hospital bed. You wrote in your journal and listened to music and Blaine… you came home with me. I'm so proud of you every second of every single day."

Blaine didn't have a clue what to say to that.

Tears began falling down his cheeks, making it more and more difficult to focus on Kurt's reflection in the mirror.

Kurt looked up at Blaine from where he was still kneeling next to the chair.

"I will never stop being proud of you, Blaine." He whispered, and floods of emotion caused tiny breaks to stutter his voice when he added. "E-Ever."

Blaine nodded, through the hazy tears still sliding down his face.

"Even if you have to tell me to stop; that it's too much, and you decide that you don't want to do this… Nothing you say will convince me that you are anything less than beautiful and brave."

Blaine remained silent, as he looked at the gorgeous boy crouched next to the stranger in the mirror.

It's all he's ever wanted - to be brave.

Brave for his Kurt.

I can do this.

He felt Kurt's delicate fingers lace together with his own and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"I-I'm ready." Blaine whispered. His voice wavered slightly, but his eyes didn't leave the sparkling blue ones staring back at him from the mirror for even a fraction of a second.

Kurt released a heavy sigh of relief and got back up to his feet so he was standing behind the Blaine in the mirror. He reached over to the bed and picked up a lime green spray bottle.

"This is the spray bottle my dad uses when he's cooking on the barbeque." Kurt explained with a smirk. Then he leaned closer and winked at the boy in the mirror.

"He tends to cook things of the… well done variety."

The tension flooded out of Blaine at Kurt's well-timed humor. He let out an amused huff and looked at the version of Kurt in the mirror incredulously.

"Ha!" Kurt mocked. "You laugh… but you just wait… half the time, there's flames shooting out the ends of the barbeque and this spray bottle doesn't even cut it!"

Blaine snorted.

The boys continued to look at each other in the mirror for several seconds before they both broke into a fit of giggles.

"Should we get started now?" Kurt chuckled after they'd both regained their composure several minutes later. "It's almost four in the morning."

Blaine, still trying to hide a smile, nodded at the taller teen in the mirror, and Kurt begun spritzing water onto Blaine's curls with a look of thoughtfulness and concentration.

When he was satisfied that Blaine's hair was damp enough to work with, Kurt turned and picked up Carole's silver hair trimming scissors from a navy blue zippered pouch on the bed before looking back at the boy in the mirror.

"Are you ready?"

Blaine's smile faltered slightly as he was reminded of the approaching situation.

I can do this.

For Kurt.

I can be brave.

He looked deep into the wide blue orbs in the mirror and nodded with a hesitant gulp.

"Great." Kurt said, his voice immediately returning to the professional tone he'd begun with. "Now, let's say… an inch and a half off, all the way around?"

Blaine nodded again, thankful for Kurt's obvious charade to lessen the tension.

While still holding his gaze in the mirror, Kurt rested the hand not holding the scissors on Blaine's left shoulder.

"I'm going to touch your hair, but I'm not going to pull it, I promise." He explained calmly, once again breaking character. "You'll hear the scissors snip, and then the hair will fall onto this goofy chicken here, or onto the tablecloth. And then... well, then I guess you'll feel a little bit lighter."

Blaine sighed and slacked the tense grip his fingers had inadvertently taken on his pajama pants.

I already feel a little bit lighter.

Kurt nodded before easing the hand from Blaine's shoulder into the mass of dampened, dark curls.

He knew exactly what he was holding, and it wasn't just a fistful of hair.

He could feel Blaine tense the moment his fingers found a tangled curl and met some resistance.

"It's Kurt." The older boy reminded the one in the mirror as he promptly pulled his hand out of Blaine's hair. "It's just me. I'm going to cut your hair, and you're going to feel so much better... okay?"

Blaine took a deep breath, relaxed his shoulders and nodded once more.

Once Kurt had received permission to continue, he allowed his fingers to get to work immediately.

With the first 'snik' of the shears, he felt Blaine's entire body exhale.

Reassured that he was on the right track, Kurt continued.

With each skillfully trimmed lock of hair that slipped down the pink chicken apron and landed on the tablecloth, an additional thousand pounds of emotion drained from Blaine's exhausted frame.

Stress.

Fear.

Pain.

Humiliation.

Grief.

Sorrow.

Anxiety.

Guilt.

Blaine could feel himself growing lighter and lighter with each of Kurt's careful movements.

He continued to watch his very own transformation in the mirror in front of him until the long curls hanging down in front of his hazel eyes were suddenly gone.

His breath caught as he stared at himself in the mirror.

The stranger had disappeared.

Snipped away, and discarded onto the floor, along with a growing pile of dark curls that contrasted brilliantly against the bright yellow tablecloth.

Blaine sighed and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

It was like he could finally see himself for the first time.

Kurt immediately picked up on Blaine's revelation and squeezed his uninjured shoulder lightly.

They stared at each other in the mirror for several minutes, passing hours and hours of silent conversation between them without a single word being spoken.

I'm back.

You're home.

It was an emotional release for both boys.

So much more than just a haircut.

Finally, after several minutes, Kurt straightened his posture, wiped away the tears from his own cheeks and cleared his throat.

"Now, I've perused the last few months of men's fashion magazines, and I'm pretty sure I can do something both stylish and lightweight."

Professional Kurt was back again.

"Do you have any preconceptions regarding sideburns?"

Blaine felt a laugh starting inside as he watched the teen in the mirror continue working meticulously to trim his curls to a manageable length.

It had been so long since he'd laughed... but it was just like Kurt to decide that he could cut hair like a professional after looking at a couple of pictures.

But that's who Kurt Hummel was.

He'd given himself a scene and he was determined to act it out.

And Blaine loved every minute of it.

So he let down all the barriers he'd worked so hard to put up and he laughed.

It was a rumbling laugh, from deep down inside.

A place he'd almost forgotten had even existed.

"N-No." The younger teen got out between giggles, his right hand over his mouth. "N-no I don't."

Kurt grinned back and winked at the reflection of the handsome boy in front of him, fully back in his starring role as Blaine's stylist. "Then we'll just play it by ear, hmmm?"

He punctuated his question with a loud smack of a kiss right above Blaine's right ear.

Kurt jolted awake the following morning as minute tremors gently vibrated the bed.

He blinked his sleep-filled eyes open, desperate to see through the haze, only to have them settle on a disturbing scene next to him.

Blaine was crying.

Sobbing so hard that his entire body was quaking.

Kurt could tell that Blaine was trying desperately to mute himself, to hide his emotional release and he felt his heart break for the boy lying beside him.

All he wanted was for Blaine to trust him, to feel comfortable waking him up and asking for help when he felt sad.

Or afraid.

Or... anything, really.

Kurt desperately wanted to reach out and hold the smaller teen in his arms, but he realized that Blaine was so determined to keep his tears hidden that he'd turned away from Kurt, onto his left side.

Meaning he was lying on his injured shoulder.

It also meant, and the thought sickened Kurt, that Blaine was trying so hard to hide, that he was willing to lay with his back to him.

Something Kurt knew damn well that Blaine was uncomfortable with.

He knew that Blaine was normally terrified to sleep with his back to anyone, Kurt included.

Blaine's broken words echoed in his brain from the number of times he'd heard them uttered in devastated sobs.

'I-I need to see t-that it's you.'

Kurt sucked in a breath as he recalled the pure fear in Blaine's fragmented words.

Touching the delicate boy at this point, from this position, was not even an option.

Kurt drew in a deep breath, trying to suck in as much courage as he possibly could.

"Blaine?" He whispered through the soft light of the early morning.

The boy next to him immediately tensed and Kurt could feel Blaine's body remain rigid.

Again, he had to consciously hold his hands back from reaching out to touch him.

Blaine had stopped breathing.

No sobs.

No tears.

No cries.

Kurt sighed.

He's trying so hard.

Kurt was certain that Blaine was trying to pretend to be asleep.

He knew the teen would be filled with guilt.

He would be feeling remorseful for waking Kurt up; because that's just who Blaine is.

"A-are you okay?" Kurt's voice cracked, and he cursed his inability to be brave and strong.

Like Blaine.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Blaine rolled himself over until he was back laying on his right side.

Literally, his right side.

It's the side he's meant to lay on.

It's the side that allows Kurt to see his gorgeous hazel eyes once again.

It's the side that brings them together.

Kurt could see now that Blaine's golden eyes were not red and puffy from intense, gut-wrenching cries, but rather clear and… content?

Blaine's face did not look scared, or anxious or even sad, as Kurt had come to recognize to be the norm after the worst of his vivid nightmares.

Blaine's face was... relaxed, relieved and revitalized somehow.

Kurt deemed it safe to reach towards the other boy now that they are facing each other once again. He extended his arm forward until the back of his finger was close enough to wipe away the tears from Blaine's face.

The boy didn't cower away in fear.

He didn't flinch, gasp or flee...

No… instead… he smiled.

It was soft and subtle; barely there, but Kurt knew it was definitely a smile.

"Are you crying because you had a nightmare?" Kurt's voice is soft, caring and barely above a whisper.

His fingers crept upwards and brushed gingerly through Blaine's new, neatly trimmed curls.

He noticed Blaine's throat spasm as he gulped, and watched his prominent Adam's apple bob as he prepared to speak.

"N-no." Blaine's voice was deep and harsh, so he took a fraction of a second to clear away the emotion that was constricting his throat before he continued.

"Kurt… I'm crying because I didn't."