Author's Note:

I just realized that yesterday was my 1-year anniversary since I posted the very first chapter of 'Underneath'. WOW! That's unbelievable. What a year it has been!

Firstly (to get this out of the way)… to the troll who left such a disrespectful comment on my last chapter - No one is forcing you to read this. If you "hate" it so much, why are you still reading it? If you are too ignorant to see that this story is about a relationship with more depth than just sex and make out scenes, I think you'd better find something else to read. If you're looking for Klaine smut – go find Klaine smut. You're not going to find it here.

Now… onto the IMPORTANT stuff…

Thank you all so much for your patience and for the amazing response from the last chapter – Blaine's Haircut. I received so many positive reviews.

And THANK YOU for not giving up on me. I know I haven't been updating nearly as regularly as I should… but… life is getting in the way. I appreciate your support and the messages of encouragement from you left me speechless.

You guys… just… inspire me.

It's been a tough few months, but the support from each and every one of you has been overwhelming.

THANK YOU FOR BELIEVING IN ME.

XOXO

Love,

Ryleigh

*** TRIGGER WARNING ***

***Mentions of suicidal thoughts and depictions of self harm***

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

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

Viewer discretion is STRONGLY advised…

Chapter 27 Part Five

Blaine was burrowed into the cushions of the couch, lying on his right side with his knees drawn up into his chest and his head nestled into Kurt's lap.

The stuffed rabbit 'Thumpy' was tucked underneath Blaine's left arm; snuggled between the sling on his shoulder and his own tiny body. The fingers of his left hand were entwined with Kurt's at chest level, and his heavy blue wolf blanket was draped over the pair of them securely.

They were both sound asleep.

The TV was on in the corner next to the Christmas tree; the animated sounds of a Disney movie long forgotten buzzing in the background, as the boys continued to snore peacefully.

Burt couldn't contain the sigh or the soft smile that graced his face when he came upon the scene.

It had been a long, sleepless night.

He and Carole had heard the boys up several times before the pair of teens had closed themselves into the bathroom for what seemed like eternity.

Soft whispers and cries, followed eventually by louder, more terrified, words echoed through the sleepless Hummel residence.

Followed by an eerie silence.

Burt had darted out of bed several times; desperate to seek the boys out and offer his assistance, but Carole had politely taken his hand and guided him back into bed, insisting how important it was to let the boys work things out themselves.

She knew Kurt.

She trusted him.

And she was certain that he would call for them if it were warranted.

Carole believed with her entire core that the two teens needed a chance to talk things out.

Eventually, the echoing sounds through the thin walls informed them that Kurt and Blaine had moved back into Blaine's bedroom.

They heard muffled conversation, followed by what sounded like someone digging through the cupboards in the kitchen.

Burt had shot Carole a look of utter perplexity when the sound of furniture moving in Blaine's room echoed throughout the home some time after that, but at three in the morning, neither of them were going to question it.

Burt sighed, bringing him back to the present, as he sat down in his armchair with a tired groan.

If Kurt redecorating the house in the wee hours of the morning is going to get that kid feeling better… by all means…

He looked back over to the pair of teens snuggling on the couch and his heart ached when, for the first time, he noticed that the sleeves of Blaine's pajamas had ridden up, revealing the white gauze wrapped around both of his wrists.

He never thought the boy would be a risk for self-harm.

But really… why wouldn't he be? After all he'd been through?

Burt sighed again, and rubbed his fingers over his throbbing temples.

Something happened last night. Something big.

Burt and Carole both agreed to let Kurt stay home from school. When the boys had stumbled out to the kitchen for breakfast, it was obvious that they'd been up for most of the night. Burt informed them that he'd called the school and left a message that Kurt would be absent and for his teachers to send his homework home with Finn.

The relief on both boys' faces had been… haunting.

Kurt and Blaine had each picked at a few bites of toast before retiring to the living room, blanket and Thumpy in hand, to snuggle together on the couch.

Burt wasn't surprised to find that the boys had barely started their movie before they'd fallen asleep. Carole had checked in on them before she'd left for work and made sure Kurt had a pillow behind his neck so he didn't wake up in pain.

As Burt relaxed into his chair, his eyes came to rest on the TV where a cartoon weasel-y looking critter danced with a warthog through a rainforest, singing a brightly colored tune before he heard Blaine suddenly let out a heavy sigh and the tiniest of frowns appeared on the boy's face. However, within seconds, and without either of them truly awakening, Kurt's fingers appeared on Blaine's forehead, softly caressing the folds of taut olive skin until Blaine had visibly relaxed into Kurt's body once again.

Burt watched in awe as the two boys' breathing returned to a normal, rhythmic pattern of synchronicity, and Kurt's fingers subconsciously moved up to the top of Blaine's head and began twisting gently through his new, baby soft curls.

The locks of dark hair were just long enough now that they didn't spring back underneath Kurt's fingers; hang down in Blaine's face or over his ears.

For the first time in a long time, Burt could see… Blaine.

Actually… see him.

Even with the dark circles under Blaine's eyes, the faded bruises, and the frightening hollowness of his cheeks, Burt was reassured that the dapper young man he'd met that first day was still in there… somewhere.

Burt also noticed that Kurt had helped Blaine shave again.

The soft, smooth skin on the boy's face made him look young… impossibly young.

His physical appearance, combined with his curled-up position on the couch with the plush rabbit tucked under his arm, made Blaine look like an innocent child.

It took Burt a second to remember that Blaine should look like an innocent child, because he was one.

Or… at least he was supposed to be.

Soft.

Warm.

Safe.

Vanilla.

Blaine stirred awake gently as his senses alerted him to unfamiliar surroundings once again.

With a heavy sigh, he managed to pry open his left eye, just enough to take in the sights of the room.

Christmas. Everywhere.

A feeling of warmth flooded Blaine's chest as the pieces slowly slipped into place once again.

Hudmels.

Home.

He drew in a long, contented sigh and squeezed his arm around the softness of the stuffed rabbit as he settled back into the soft cushions of the…

Blaine sucked in a surprised breath and his eyes shot open once again.

Cushions don't breathe.

A fluttery, almost unfamiliar feeling encircled Blaine's heart when he remembered that when he'd positioned himself on the couch, he hadn't been alone.

Kurt.

My Kurt.

Blaine couldn't help the soft, innocent smile that graced his lips as he closed his eyes once again, snuggled back into Kurt's lap and fell back asleep instantly.

It was an hour or so later when Blaine woke up a second time.

It didn't take as long for him to remember where he was this time.

He could feel Kurt's warm, solid body resting behind him, and judging by the deep, rhythmic breaths the boy was taking, it was apparent that Kurt was still sleeping soundly.

Blaine sighed softly, shifting only enough to alleviate the numbness that had set into his right side from being still for so long. He didn't want to risk a significant move that might wake up Kurt.

He smiled dozily.

Kurt.

He knew he shouldn't be smiling.

Not after everything that had happened.

He should be sad.

Ashamed.

Terrified.

But he couldn't help it.

Kurt made him want to smile.

Images of the previous evening flashed through Blaine's mind as he drifted peacefully on the couch.

Kurt helping to clean up the scratches on his wrists.

Soft reassurances and gentle touches.

The haircut.

Would Kurt even realize how big of a step that had been?

Cutting his hair hadn't just been an external fix.

Blaine could still recall the heaviness that fell from his shoulders with each and every curl that hit the floor.

He was lighter.

Safer.

Happier.

He was… home.

Kurt gave him all of that.

This boy… who had no reason to care for him - no reason to even give him the time of day…

He'd saved his life.

Blaine couldn't help it this time; he turned slowly until he was able to crane his neck to the side just enough so he could see the beautiful boy resting above him.

Kurt's eyes were closed and his head was leaned back against a pillow on the top of the couch, presenting the flawless porcelain skin on his neck that Blaine longed to reach out and touch.

He'd never seen such beauty.

With every inhalation, Blaine watched closely as Kurt's chest rose slowly until he puffed out each breath with a near silent snore.

He allowed his eyes to wander, gracing every inch of Kurt's unspoiled perfection, until they came to rest on the teen's face and he sucked in a tiny, surprised breath.

He has freckles.

Blaine couldn't contain his grin as he counted each one of the tiny, almost invisible flecks that dotted Kurt's nose and cheeks.

Thirty-six.

Kurt had thirty-six freckles.

Blaine struggled to contain a giggle that he could feel bubbling inside of him.

So he counted the freckles again.

And again.

Then he counted the golden brown eyelashes that were splayed out on Kurt's freckled cheeks.

Blaine was just about to start counting Kurt's soft snores when a throat cleared behind him, breaking his trance.

He startled slightly, feeling as though he'd just been caught staring at Kurt.

Which…. wasn't exactly untrue.

"Hey buddy."

Blaine slowly turned his body back around until he could see the person that the hushed voice belonged to.

Burt Hummel was sitting in his recliner with a newspaper in his hand and a wide grin on his face.

He must have read Blaine's uncertainty, because his smile faltered just slightly as he set down the paper.

"It's just me bud, you're alright."

Blaine caught his breath, understanding that he didn't appear to be… in trouble, but he couldn't help the blush that crept up his cheeks as he nodded slowly.

"I saw that you were awake." Burt explained warily. "I was just gonna go make some lunch. Wanna give me a hand?"

Blaine hesitated.

He turned his head back slightly and looked at Kurt, who remained snoring peacefully behind him.

When Blaine's eyes returned to meet Burt's he didn't need to speak a word, Burt understood exactly what Blaine was trying to convey.

He looks tired.

Burt turned his own head to take in the sight of his sleeping son on the couch behind the wide-eyed teen.

Blaine was right.

Kurt looked… exhausted.

The skin under his eyes was darker than Burt had ever seen it and his face looked thin, gaunt, and pale.

Paler than usual.

"He'll be okay." Burt reassured the curly-haired boy. "We'll let him sleep."

He watched as Blaine hesitated again.

The boy removed his hazel eyes from his own, until they rested back on Kurt's sleeping form again.

Burt sighed.

It was as though Blaine felt he had to choose.

As if… he still didn't realize that he was allowed to have both Burt and Kurt.

That neither of them were going anywhere.

"He'll be okay buddy." Burt whispered again. "I promise."

Blaine gulped, and he gently squeezed Kurt's hand before untangling their fingers.

Then he looked back over to where Burt remained sitting in his chair, and nodded.

He pulled back the heavy mink blanket, and climbed up off the couch, slowly as not to disrupt his sleeping soulmate.

Once he was finally standing next to the couch, Blaine turned around, looking thoughtful for a moment before he picked up the plush rabbit and gently tucked it into Kurt's lap, in the exact position that his own body had occupied only seconds before.

Kurt sighed slightly in his sleep and moved his arm down to capture the rabbit in a tight embrace.

Blaine tilted his head to the side and smiled softly before pulling the mink blanket up around Kurt's shoulders and tucking him in, allowing his fingers to linger for a few extra seconds on the exposed skin of Kurt's collarbones.

Blaine finally spun around and took a few steps away from the couch before turning to take one last glance at the sleeping boy before he followed a grinning Burt Hummel into the kitchen.

Kurt sighed dozily.

He was so comfortable.

He knew he shouldn't be comfortable. What with the awkward angle of his neck against the fluffy pillow he couldn't remember placing behind his head and the way he was slouched slightly against the back of the couch.

But he was.

He had Blaine laying in his lap.

His Blaine.

His Blaine; who was safe and who had a great new haircut and a brand new lease on life.

Yes…Kurt Hummel was comfortable.

He dreamily allowed his arm to tighten around the tiny body of the boy on his lap. It worried him how thin Blaine was. Kurt sighed again as he stretched his arm almost all the way around Blaine's torso and ran his fingers through the impossibly soft fur on his…

Wait, what…?

Fur?

Kurt's eyes shot open and he darted upright, knocking the stuffed rabbit off his lap and sending it tumbling to the floor.

His heart rate quadrupled almost immediately when his brain registered what was missing.

OhmygodwhereisBlaine?

Kurt leapt up from the couch, but in his panic to stand up, his left ankle became tangled inside Blaine's wolf blanket and he too tumbled to the floor.

He grumbled to himself as he unwound the heavy fabric from his legs, having injured nothing more than his pride and finally stood up.

With the best bitchface he could muster, Kurt gave the blanket a swift, graceful kick, as if to say 'so there' and turned his nose up to the wolves staring back at him mockingly.

But he didn't stick his tongue out at the inanimate object.

No… Kurt Hummel would never do anything so… crass.

And he certainly didn't blow a raspberry with his tongue at the blanket either.

That would just be… weird.

After Kurt managed to compose himself, he walked slowly towards the kitchen.

He heard voices.

Well… voice.

It was his father.

It sounded like his dad was… laughing?

Kurt gulped as he tiptoed closer and closer towards the kitchen.

Please let Blaine be okay. Please let Blaine be okay.

When he finally made it past the doorway into the tiny kitchen, Kurt came upon a scene that made his heart swell with warmth, pride, comfort and every other positive emotion known to mankind.

His father was standing next to the kitchen sink, up to his elbows in dishwater (with far too many bubbles to be appropriate) animatedly babbling on about some nonsensical sporting statistics.

But that wasn't what had caught Kurt's attention.

That wasn't what had him feeling wobbly in his knees and forced him to lean against the doorframe to prevent himself from sliding to the floor.

Blaine.

His Blaine was wearing an apron.

It was an apron Kurt had never seen before, so he assumed it was another of Carole's from the back of the dishtowel drawer. It was black and white striped vertically with a lime green polka-dotted pocket, which rested directly over Blaine's right hip. The pocket was outlined with a thick, frilly white line of lace. As Kurt's eyes travelled upwards, he noticed that there was a matching lime green strip of fabric wrapped around Blaine's tiny waistline as well as a green strap that was wrapped loosely around the back of his neck.

The feature piece of the ensemble, however - the accessory that made Kurt grin so wide that his face hurt - was the large lime green polka dot bow that was fastened to the top of the apron, resting directly over Blaine's heart.

He was grinning.

Blaine was holding a silicone spatula in his hand and had the biggest grin on his face that Kurt had ever seen.

Kurt felt so… comfortable that he would have loved to have stayed in that exact position, watching Blaine appear so… carefree and… happy… for the rest of his life.

But at about that time, his father had turned to say something else to the small teenager and finally noticed Kurt's arrival.

"Hey buddy!" Burt exclaimed cheerfully over Blaine's left shoulder. "You're just in time for lunch!"

At his words, Blaine spun around to meet Kurt's gaze, still with the grin plastered on his face.

Kurt's eyes widened even more and his own lips formed a large, toothless smile.

"It smells great, Blaine! What did you make?" He asked candidly.

Kurt wasn't sure he expected Blaine to answer him directly, but when the smaller teen's smile faltered just slightly, his eyes darted off to the side, and his lips quivered, as though struggling to form the correct words, a twinge of guilt panged inside Kurt's chest.

Burt immediately sensed Blaine's hesitation to speak and stepped in, flapping his soap covered fingers in the air and sending a plethora of bubbles sailing across the kitchen.

"I don't know if you know this, but our friend Blaine here is a master chef!" Burt said with a proud smile.

Blaine's cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink.

"He whipped up an incredible batch of grilled cheese for us, Kurt!" Burt explained pointing towards the table to a huge stack of sandwiches piled high on a large red plate. "Don't they look great?"

Kurt's eyes darted from the mountain of sandwiches on the table to where Blaine remained standing next to the stove, spatula in hand, and ears as red as ever.

Kurt stuttered slightly, unable to force his own lips to form the words in his brain.

"T-They look delicious!" He said lamely, trying to keep a neutral look on his face but failing miserably.

He couldn't believe the difference in the Blaine from the night before and the Blaine standing only mere feet away from him right then.

It was as though the haircut had… lightened him… and brightened him.

Aside from the weight loss and the sling on his shoulder… he almost looked like the old Blaine again.

The two boys stared at each other hypnotically for several minutes before Burt cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded towards the stove.

"Uhhh… Blaine? I think your last sandwich is done."

Blaine's eyes widened and he sucked in a surprised breath. Kurt couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a muffled 'shit' slip from between Blaine's lips as he spun around towards the stove once again to rescue his last sandwich.

"These really ARE delicious!" Kurt mumbled with his mouth full of sandwich. He usually found it completely inappropriate to speak with his mouth full of food, but at that exact moment, he simply couldn't help himself. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, that made the grilled cheese taste so much better than he'd ever had before, but there was something about it… that made it so much more than plain old bread and plastic cheese.

Blaine grinned as he dipped his own sandwich into the pile of ketchup on his plate and brought it up to his mouth to take a bite.

If there was one thing he could cook, it was a 'grillder'.

He'd coined the name 'grillder' for his favorite sandwich several years ago, when he found himself home alone more often than not, and was required to cook for himself.

It was easy enough.

Frying pan.

Bread.

Butter.

Cheese slice.

More bread.

More butter.

Instant success.

The hardest part was peeling the stupid plastic wrapper off the cheese. (Which, as he'd just found out was even harder to do with one arm in a sling.)

But today… today he'd mastered it. He'd produced a giant stack of sandwiches for their lunch. If Blaine was being honest, he'd cooked a few more than he thought was necessary but Mr. Hummel kept grinning and throwing him more bread so he'd kept right on cooking.

Blaine smiled again as he recalled the warmth that had flooded his chest as he and the Senior of the Hummel men had fussed around making lunch and tidying the kitchen. They likely used far too many dishes for what little they'd accomplished, but they'd certainly had… fun… making the mess.

Fun.

Until that moment, it had almost seemed liked a foreign concept to Blaine.

He grinned once more, and nibbled the last corner of his sandwich and glanced up once again to where Kurt was helping himself to his third sandwich. (Not that he was counting.)

Kurt seems to be enjoying them, and Mr. Hummel must be on his sixth or seventh one at least, so they can't be that bad.

Blaine felt a new sense of warmth in his chest.

Pride.

He tried to curb the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips.

He certainly didn't want to look like a grinning idiot, but… it felt so… good.

Blaine bit his bottom lip for just a second, running a multitude of scenarios through his head, then he looked up at the platter of sandwiches in front of him and made a decision.

Screw it.

I want… I want… another sandwich.

So he reached out and took one.

He hesitated for a moment, setting the sandwich down on his plate, as though waiting to hear the reprimands and see the disapproving looks.

But they never came.

Neither Burt nor Kurt even looked up from their own plates.

Blaine picked the sandwich back up, dipped it in ketchup and took a large bite.

Then he made another decision.

And damn it…I'm going to smile all I want.

"I… uh… was hoping to check in with my guys at the shop this afternoon." Burt announced, sopping up the last of the ketchup off his plate with the crust of his seventh sandwich. "Will you two… uh… be okay here by yourselves for an hour or so?"

He looked up then, and was met by two pairs of wide eyes, one set of hazel and the others brilliant blue.

Kurt looked at Blaine and Blaine looked at Kurt.

They both shrugged, but neither teenager knew what to say.

"Uh… yes?" Kurt offered slowly.

It sounded more like a question than an answer.

He glanced at Blaine as if to say 'are you okay with this?' and the smaller teen shrugged and nodded casually.

Burt hesitated for a moment. In any other circumstance, he would have never dreamed of leaving his (gay) son home alone with another (gay) boy… but… based on recent events, he knew they would be more than responsible.

He was confident that his son would be respectful of Blaine's… situation… and he seriously doubted that anything remotely close to relationships or sex would even enter Blaine's mind at this point.

Not after everything…

Burt blinked several times attempting to interrupt the pessimism that had seeped into his mind and cleared his throat before reconnecting his eyes with the teens in front of him.

"I'll only be gone for a short while, and I'll have my cell on me, so if anything happens or if you need me to come home, call me and I'll be back in no time… alright?"

Both boys nodded silently.

Burt gulped and nodded in return. It was as though he was trying to reassure himself more so than the boys.

It's only an hour.

They'll be safe for an hour.

No one can hurt them here.

My boys will be safe.

Burt's heart ached as the last string of his words echoed in his mind.

He wasn't quite sure when it had happened; When he'd started feeling as though Blaine was genuinely part of his own family.

All Burt Hummel knew was that his papa bear instincts were kicked into high gear.

He's like a son to me, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone hurt this kid ever again.

Blaine carefully plucked another plate out of the blue plastic drainer and strategically transferred it into the fingers of his left hand.

Helping with dishes wasn't exactly an simple task while wearing his sling, but as long as he was careful, he found that he was able to hold the smaller items like plates, glasses and the utensils in his left hand, while carefully wiping them with the towel in his right.

Drying the plate took a lot longer than it probably should of, but Kurt didn't seem to mind. In fact, Blaine guessed that Kurt was deliberately taking his time washing the dishes, giving him a few extra minutes to do his part without becoming overwhelmed with the sink full of clean ones before he could get them dried.

Blaine sighed as he reached over and set the plate on the stack on the counter. They were meant to be in the cupboard above, but Kurt had told him just to leave them on the counter to be put away after.

He furrowed his brows as he reached for another dish – this time a crystal tumbler – from the drainer and began his slow and arduous drying routine once again.

I hope he doesn't think I'm useless.

I just wish I could be better help.

I wish I could… be better.

He glanced up to where Kurt stood by the sink, tall and graceful even in his stationary pose.

Blaine's eyes travelled up Kurt's lean frame, noting the way his left knee was bent just slightly, and the way his hip jutted out the side almost unnoticeably.

Kurt was leaning against the front of the sink, and Blaine noticed that a bit of the water from the edge of the sink had leached into the front of Kurt's t-shirt, resulting in a wide, darkened stain.

Kurt didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Blaine's eyes travelled further up the teen's body, and he allowed them to follow the minute curves of Kurt's thin but toned chest and the gentle prominences of his shoulder blades.

A tiny crooked grin formed on his face when he absorbed the sight of Kurt's pale white arms emerging from the sleeves of the t-shirt.

He's so white.

But his skin looks so soft.

His eyes carefully and slowly took in every inch of Kurt's long, delicate arms until the point where his wrists disappeared underneath the soapy water.

Blaine sighed again as he remembered the feeling of Kurt's hands in his hair the night before.

He'd been so gentle.

So… careful.

Blaine wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to express to Kurt just how much that seemingly simple task had meant to him.

It was so much more than just a haircut.

Blaine could still feel the tenderness of Kurt's fingers as he loosely combed through each individual curl, and the way he'd felt lighter with each gentle snip of the shears.

Blaine knew for certain that Kurt had taken great care not to pull on his hair. It was substantiated by the mere element of time.

It had taken almost three hours for Kurt to finish his task.

He'd moved so slow, so gracefully, and had talked Blaine through every second of it; pre-warning him every time prior to picking up a new curl, and before every snip with the scissors.

Blaine could remember feeling oddly peaceful as he settled into the desk chair. His shoulders had eventually relaxed and he'd actually begun to enjoy his experience.

He'd never been treated with such… tenderness… in his whole life.

It was… amazing.

Kurt's fingers had been so… warm on his scalp.

So perfect.

He could still feel those same fingers, even though he couldn't see them submerged below the mountains of bubbles in the sink.

He pictured their long and delicate contours, and imagined that they would look slightly wrinkled from being in the water for as long as they had been.

Blaine sighed again.

But I bet they're even softer now.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine snapped himself out of his reverie and looked up to where Kurt was looking across at him.

What did he say?

Kurt appeared pleasantly curious. Blaine's wide hazel eyes made him look like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Are you okay?" He repeated.

Blaine gulped, shrugged and added a nod just for good measure.

"Are you… sure?" Kurt asked with a shit-eating smirk. He nodded towards the glass in Blaine's hand. "You've been drying that same cup for like five minutes…"

Blaine's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks, ears and neck grow embarrassingly warm.

He hadn't realized he'd been staring.

Again.

"I-I'm fine." He stuttered.

It had felt like ages since he'd spoken; his words came out garbled and slightly broken.

"Good." Kurt grinned. "Just checking."

Blaine's face grew even redder, so he intentionally turned his body slightly away from Kurt and reached up to put the cup away in the cupboard.

From that point on, Blaine took extra care to keep his eyes on the dishes in his hands rather than on the boy standing next to him.

It went well… for the first little while.

It was the last item in the drainer that caused all hell to break loose.

The boys had been silently working at their own tasks for the past several minutes, both wandering around inside their own heads and not paying much attention to anything when it happened.

Kurt had his back turned towards Blaine and was mindlessly wiping the stove top with the dish cloth while Blaine was drying the last glass tumbler.

When he'd finished drying the glass, Blaine reached up towards the cupboard to put it away and a sharp pain shot through his shoulder, catching him completely off guard.

His muscles in his opposite limb spasmed from the unexpected surge of pain and the glass slipped out of his fingers.

It was like everything happened in slow motion.

Knowing he'd never be able to stop it, Blaine winced, and braced himself, preparing for what would undoubtedly be a horrific crash.

The glass connected with the edge of the counter and exploded with an ear-splitting crack that echoed throughout the kitchen.

It took a few seconds for Blaine to force his eyes open and assess the damage.

The glass was shattered.

One large piece of fragmented crystal remained on the edge of the counter, surrounded by thousands of tiny shards, littered around the counter and on the floor by Blaine's bare feet.

His heart hammered in his chest in synchronicity with the echoing in his ears from the crash.

Fuck.

I broke it.

I ruined it.

I ruin everything.

Carole is gonna be so mad.

Thousands of thoughts flooded Blaine's mind, each one worse than its predecessor.

Kurt's going to think I'm such a moron.

He's never going to trust me.

That was when Blaine finally realized that Kurt hadn't even responded to the ruckus.

He turned around slowly, carefully avoiding the pieces of broken glass at his feet, and sucked in a staggered breath, preparing himself for the worst.

He's going to look so disappointed.

I'm so stupid.

He's going to hate…

But what he saw when he finally turned to face Kurt, broke Blaine's fragile heart into pieces not dissimilar from the shards of glass on the floor.

Kurt was still over by the stove, but instead of standing next to it wiping it down, he was crouched down on the floor next to the discarded dishcloth with his knees drawn up into his chest and his face tucked into his lap. Both of Kurt's hands were pressed against his ears with his fingers tangled in his disheveled hair, as though trying desperately to mute out the echoing resonance from the shattering glass.

Blaine didn't even need to squint to see that Kurt had his eyes squeezed shut against his knees as he rocked back and forth frantically on the floor.

He looked terrified.

Blaine was frozen.

He'd been so worried about Kurt's reaction, but he'd never ever expected to see this.

Kurt…

His Kurt was having a panic attack.

Blaine's feet were planted to the ground.

KurtKurtKurtKurtKurt

His mind was begging him to do something, but he couldn't move.

Helphelphelphelphelp

Tears streamed down Blaine's cheeks as he stood helplessly only feet away from Kurt.

"K…K…."

Even his tongue wouldn't function properly.

"I…. I-…"

Nothing.

He was stuck.

Completely blocked.

There were dozens, no – hundreds of words circling around his brain. He had so much to say – to ask – to scream.

Blaine could see that each word and every phrase was painted a different color in his mind; leaving him with a palette of hundreds of messy paint splotches splattered on the inside of his skull. They were floating around and spinning so quickly that he simply couldn't catch up to the words he wanted to say.

It was the most frustrating feeling in the world.

Like he was trapped inside his own head with no hope of escape.

Blaine knew that in order to help Kurt, he needed to speak.

He was desperate to snap Kurt out of whatever terrifying state he appeared to be in at the moment, but every time another word crept closer to his lips and he finally felt like he might actually be able to spit it out, it would flicker away to the darkest confines of his brain and he was left speechless once again.

Blaine growled in frustration. Actually growled.

He desperately wanted to take a few steps closer and put his arms around his friend, as Kurt had done for him countless times before, but his legs were filled with sand.

He couldn't move.

"K…K…Kur…"

Blaine grew more and more frustrated with each failed attempt at calling out. He squeezed his own eyes shut, clenched his fists and tried once again with anger, disappointment and desperation flooding his veins.

"K…K… K-KURT!" This time he all but shouted the word he'd been agonizing over.

For a moment, Blaine panicked that he'd yelled too loud, but his brain finally registered that Kurt hadn't even flinched, so he tried once again.

"K-Kurt?" It was easier this time, more desperate, but not quite as loud. "K-Kurt, p-please!"

Blaine wasn't even sure what he was begging for. All he knew was that he needed Kurt back. His strong, brave Kurt. Not the terrified boy rocking on the floor in front of him.

With his heart pounding in his ears and his stomach clenched tighter than he could ever remember it being, Blaine finally forced his feet into action. He took two tentative steps forward and reached his good arm out towards Kurt's shaking frame.

Then he hesitated.

Should I touch him?

What if he…

I don't know what to do.

Kurt… please… please come back.

I don't know what to do.

I need you.

Please come back.

Please.

"K-Kurt?" It was barely more than a whisper. The emotion was so thick in Blaine's throat that it almost trapped his words once again. "P-Please…"

Nothing.

"Kurt…?" He tried again, inching closer. "Kurt, p-please. I n-need you."

Finally, Blaine's trembling fingers came to rest gently on Kurt's shoulder and he felt the terrified boy flinch under him.

"I-It's j-just me." Blaine stammered; his voice sounding years younger than he'd ever aimed for. "It's j-just...B-Blaine."

Kurt immediately stopped rocking.

Blaine sucked in an anxious breath.

Had he heard him?

Was he… coming back?

"I'm here, Kurt." This time Blaine's voice somehow sounded stronger, more sure of himself. "I'm here, a-and… you're okay."

Within a few moments, Kurt's body relaxed, his hands lowered from the sides of his head and he finally allowed his face to come up from where it had been buried in his knees.

He couldn't bring himself to look directly at the shorter teen, who was crouched down next to him.

"B-Blaine?"

Kurt's voice sounded broken and unsure, and if Blaine wasn't mistaken – possibly a bit mortified. It didn't sound like his Kurt at all.

His Kurt always sounded cheerful, positive and… well put together.

When Kurt finally forced himself to look up, Blaine could hardly recognize the boy in front of him; he looked wrecked. His eyes were red and puffy, although Blaine couldn't see any tears to indicate that Kurt had been crying.

"I- I'm here." Blaine whispered, looking terrified by the frightful sight in front of him.

Kurt gulped nervously and allowed his eyes to flutter around the room, behind Blaine and he finally noticed the broken glass on the floor.

His eyes darted back to where Blaine was knelt in front him.

"Glass…" He breathed expressionlessly. "Broken…"

Blaine's face fell.

"Umm… I-I'm sorry…" He apologized, suddenly unable to make eye contact. "I-I d-dropped it."

Kurt gulped again before sucking in a ragged breath.

"It's okay." He said, his voice slightly closer to its normal pitch. "It's okay."

Kurt nodded dully, as though reassuring himself as well as Blaine.

"It's okay." He repeated. Kurt's words were beginning to sound like a despondent mantra.

Blaine's face contorted into a look of pure shame and he found himself still unable to meet Kurt's gaze. "I-I'll p-pay for it."

"It's… it's fine… Blaine." Kurt shook his head as he picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself off. It was obvious that he was putting on a brave face. "It was only an accident."

A few seconds of pure awkwardness passed before Blaine frowned and turned to Kurt once again.

"Are you… ummm… A-Are you okay?"

He was relieved to hear that he could finally maneuver his tongue again.

Upon Blaine's question, Kurt quickly averted his eyes and nodded non-committedly. A gentle shade of pink tinted his porcelain cheeks, which made Blaine's chest ache.

Kurt was embarrassed.

"I…I'm sorry… It just startled me, that's all. I'm fine." Kurt spoke the words but there was no inkling of truth behind them.

Blaine frowned even harder, forcing his eyebrows into a tight line across his forehead.

Kurt is definitely not fine.

Only minutes ago, he was curled up in a ball rocking back and forth like a crazy person.

No…

Blaine scolded himself for his choice of words – even if they were only in his mind.

…like a terrified child.

Kurt looked like a scared little boy.

"I… ummm…" Blaine started, unsure of where his train of thought was even headed. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Kurt, who finally had his breathing back to normal, tried to shrug off Blaine's apology, though it was apparent that he was still moderately uncomfortable.

"It's okay. I'm fine, Blaine… I-I promise."

Blaine looked doubtful.

You didn't look fine.

And you're still shaking.

Kurt shrugged once again. "Honestly, Blaine… Don't worry about me. It just surprised me, that's all."

Blaine didn't believe him for a second.

Kurt ignored Blaine's doubtful stare and turned to glance at the shards of glass on the floor.

"You didn't cut yourself, did you?"

Blaine shook his head before realizing that Kurt had his back to him and wouldn't be able to see it.

"No." He replied quietly. "I'm okay."

But are you?

"Okay, good." Kurt confirmed, his voice forced back into its normal register. "Shall we clean this up?"

Blaine sighed, not content with the outcome of their 'discussion'. If he was being honest, he'd wanted to keep talking. He'd wanted to make sure Kurt was actually okay.

But he nodded anyway and turned to help Kurt pick up the pieces.

The tension remained thick in the air the entire time the boys picked up the shards of broken glass from the floor. Neither boy spoke a word, but Blaine couldn't help but steal nervous glances towards Kurt when he thought the other boy wasn't looking.

What happened?

Why did Kurt freak out like that?

He felt terrible.

He'd managed to convince himself that everything was his fault. They'd been in much better spirits this morning, after a rough night before, but now… it felt like it was all for nothing.

They were back to square one.

Blaine sighed as he watched Kurt sweep the tiny pile of broken glass into the dustpan.

If I hadn't dropped the stupid glass… Kurt would be okay right now.

Wouldn't he?

Something in his brain nagged him about the circumstances of Kurt's panic attack.

Was it the sound of the glass breaking that scared him?

Or… something else?

Blaine was perplexed.

He'd wondered a few times if Kurt really was as 'okay' with things as he claimed to be, but he was too afraid to ask.

It had been brewing in the back of Blaine's mind that perhaps Kurt was merely putting on a brave face - a mask to hide his insecurities.

He'd been in that motel room too.

Even though some of his memories from… there…were foggy, Blaine could remember with perfect clarity every second of Kurt's encounter with… him.

The gun.

The horrible things the man had said to Kurt.

The things he'd planned to do to him.

The way Kurt had offered himself in place of Blaine.

Kurt had been so scared.

He'd tried to be brave, there was no doubt in Blaine's mind, but the truth was that Kurt had been terrified.

Blaine's heart ached as his mind replayed the events over and over like an endless cycle of horror.

Of course Kurt is not okay.

How could he ever be okay after that?

"Are you alright?"

Blaine's thoughts were interrupted as Kurt spoke softly from beside him.

"You look pale."

Blaine snapped his eyes up until they met Kurt's and he took a second to compose the sentence he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry about the motel."

The moment the words stumbled from his mouth, Blaine's eyes widened and he flickered them away from Kurt's face.

Well shit.

That wasn't at ALL what he'd planned.

He suddenly wished he could go hide in a dark hole somewhere.

At the same time, Kurt felt like he'd been sideswiped.

He wasn't anticipating that from Blaine at all.

Where did that even come from?

He cursed himself as he saw how incredibly uncomfortable Blaine looked beside him and the pieces finally slid into place.

Damn it.

He thinks it's his fault.

I'm such an idiot.

Why did I react like that?

What the hell is wrong with me?

"It's okay, Blaine." He reassured, putting his hand carefully on the other boy's shoulder. "Nothing was your fault. At all. Not back… there… and not just now."

Blaine didn't respond.

Kurt sighed and tried another tactic.

"Listen…" He started calmly. He carefully placed both of his hands on Blaine's shoulders and turned the shorter teen around to face him. Blaine gulped but managed to keep his eyes focused on Kurt's – even though it was took an incredible amount of strength to do so.

"We're okay… Both of us." Kurt continued. "We've been through a lot, but we have each other now. And… we'll… get there… alright?"

Blaine swallowed again, and momentarily looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he closed his mouth and nodded unconvincingly.

Kurt forced a smile to his lips.

There he is.

My Blaine.

I just need to be strong for him.

He needs me to be strong.

I can't ever freak out like that again.

Blaine felt guilty as he watched Kurt turn to put the broom back in the hall closet.

There was so much more that he wanted to say but he knew it wasn't a battle he'd win today.

I need to be stronger.

Kurt is the one who needed help back there and I couldn't even do anything.

I need to be brave for him.

He's been so strong for me.

I need to make sure he's okay too.

Kurt returned a moment later with a wide grin on his face.

Blaine noticed immediately that it didn't even look like a forced smile that lit up his delicate features.

He looked genuinely… excited about something.

"I have an idea!" Kurt announced as he walked up to the table and sat down next to Blaine.

Blaine couldn't help but feel warmth flood into his chest.

He missed this version of Kurt.

"W-what is it?" His voice broke slightly as he turned towards his friend with wide eyes.

"Cookies!" Kurt revealed with an animated hand gesture.

Blaine scrunched his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose in confusion.

Cookies?

"Let's bake cookies!" Kurt sounded even more excited.

Blaine's eyes widened.

No. Freaking. Way.

Kurt grinned.

"I noticed that the cookies from Coach Beiste are almost gone, mostly thanks to my dad, so I figured we could bake some more!" He explained. "Do you want to?"

Blaine couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He'd watched Kurt make breakfast every morning and had always wanted to get up and help, but he didn't want to be 'in the way'.

His mother had never let him help with dinner (on the rare occasion that she actually cooked something), so he always felt hesitant to ask. But making lunch with Burt, even if it was just sandwiches, had inspired Blaine. He wanted nothing more than to share the kitchen with Kurt.

He was just about to reply when a thought struck him.

Wait… is this just Kurt's way of brushing his panic attack under the carpet?

Is he trying to cover up his… episode?

Blaine was conflicted.

On one hand, he knew that he and Kurt should talk about what happened. He knew there was more to Kurt's attack than 'it just startled me.'

But on the other hand…

Cookies.

He loved cookies!

And he really wanted…

"Blaine?" Kurt interrupted his thoughts once again. "Do you not want to?"

"Yes!" Blaine spoke up suddenly, with more gusto than necessary. "I want to! Please! Yes! Can we?"

Kurt laughed.

It had been a while since he'd seen Blaine look so excited. His face had literally lit up when Kurt had mentioned baking cookies.

He'd looked adorably excited.

"Great!" Kurt chuckled. "What kind do you want?"

Blaine drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and thought for a moment.

"Can we… I mean… Ummm…" He started, but found the words stalling at the tip of his tongue once again.

"Go ahead." Kurt encouraged him with a friendly smile. "You can ask for anything you want."

Blaine nodded and thought for a moment.

"Could we… ummm… m-my grandpa…" He frustratingly cleared his throat and started once more.

"My grandpa and I used to make cookies." Blaine finally blurted out. "At his cabin."

"Yeah?" Kurt asked. "Do you have a secret family recipe to share?"

Blaine grinned shyly and the tips of his ears reddened just slightly. "You… you want to use my recipe?"

"Of course!" Kurt giggled. "You are the master chef after all!"

Blaine's entire face flushed bright pink.

"You are!" Kurt grinned. "Especially when you wear that adorable apron."

Blaine's eyes widened in horror as he looked down at the lace-covered apron he'd forgotten he'd been wearing while preparing lunch.

His face went from pink to red in a matter of seconds and he suddenly found it hard to look Kurt in the eye.

"What?" Kurt giggled. "You look… cute."

That didn't lessen the blush on Blaine's cheeks. He looked up at Kurt from underneath his thick dark eyelashes and smiled shyly.

"It's kind of… girly…"

"I think it's adorable." Kurt stated matter-of-factly. He pressed both his hands into Blaine's shoulders encouragingly. "I think you're adorable."

Blaine scoffed and his head fell forward bashfully.

Kurt just grinned.

He loved making Blaine squirm.

"What kind are they?" Kurt asked, deciding finally to give the boy a break from his incessant teasing.

Blaine looked up at him with a look of utter confusion. His eyebrows were furrowed together, producing two near-perfect dark triangles on his forehead.

"Huh?"

Kurt giggled again. "The cookies. What kind are the cookies?"

"Oh…right." Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment before a grin spread slowly over his face.

"Peanut butter." He said softly.

"HA!" Kurt laughed. "Of course they'd be peanut butter cookies!"

Blaine scrunched his nose. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay!" Kurt said climbing to his feet. "It's perfect!"

He stood up from the table and headed towards the pantry before turning back with a sly grin on his face and he added.

"…like you."

Blaine's head dropped shyly for a second time before Kurt spoke up once again.

"Alright master chef…" He said in an official tone. "What ingredients will we need?"

Blaine lifted his head and stood up from the table. He walked over to where Kurt was standing inside the walk-in pantry and gazed up at the dozens of shelves of non-perishable foods.

"Ummm… peanut butter?" He offered quietly.

Kurt snorted.

"You're kidding right?" He jested, poking Blaine gently in the ribs. "You need peanut butter to make peanut butter cookies?"

Blaine giggled and moved his arm around to protect himself from any further tickle attacks.

"Also… uhhh… vanilla and sugar."

Kurt gathered the three ingredients, handing Blaine the small bottle of vanilla to carry and together, they sat the items on the counter by the stove.

"We… ummm… also need eggs." Blaine said shyly.

"Do you want to grab them out of the fridge?"

Blaine simply nodded and turned towards the large white refrigerator. He took his time looking for the eggs, once again allowing his eyes to roam over the endless mountains of fruit and vegetables that filled the shelves.

It still blew his mind how full the Hudmel's refrigerator was.

They'll never have to be hungry.

Then a thought struck him that made him feel almost… giddy.

I'll never have to be hungry.

Blaine's chest filled with warmth as he bent over and picked up the cardboard carton of eggs from the bottom shelf before closing the door and placing the eggs on the countertop with the other ingredients they'd need to bake their cookies.

"Do we need anything else?" Kurt asked politely, as he reached into the cupboard next to him and pulled out a large mixing bowl.

Blaine thought for a moment, doing a mental tally of the ingredients in his head. It was a ridiculously easy recipe, and one he and his grandfather had used frequently during Blaine's summer trips out to the cabin so he was very familiar with it.

Baking cookies with his grandfather were some of the few happy memories that Blaine had from his younger years.

Memories that Blaine treasured deeply.

Now he was going to make new memories. With Kurt.

"Nope." Blaine smiled and looked up at Kurt with a sparkle in his hazel eyes. "This is perfect."

Together the boys measured out the appropriate quantities of peanut butter and sugar for a double batch of cookies and dumped them into the glass bowl. Blaine giggled when, as Kurt was blatantly showing off by cracking an egg with only one hand, he managed to get a few fragments of eggshell in the batter. He couldn't help but grin as he watched Kurt's ears turned red as he abashedly fished out the pieces of shell.

Once the batter was shell-free and mixed together, Blaine added the vanilla, and they were ready to scoop the raw dough onto the cookie sheet.

"My grandpa said that you're suppose to mash them down with a fork but I don't do that." Blaine said casually as he placed the sixteenth symmetrical blob of dough on the cookie sheet.

"Oh?" Kurt asked. "Why not?"

Blaine didn't even look up from what he was doing.

"Why flatten them?" He explained with a casual shrug. "I like to let them grow into whatever shape they want to be."

Kurt was floored.

He immediately stopped scooping the batter and looked at the shorter teen in front of him.

Blaine was still mindlessly fussing with the blobs of peanut buttery dough, arranging them in equally spaced rows on the cookie sheet.

It was as though he'd not even realized the importance of what he'd said.

Kurt knew there was so much more depth to Blaine's statement than just peanut butter cookies.

It simply amazed him how strong Blaine was. Through everything that he'd been through, he'd managed to somehow keep a positive spin on things.

Even if he didn't directly know he was doing it.

Kurt found himself staring at Blaine shamelessly for several moments.

The way his fingers moved the blobs of dough so carefully, it was like he was scared to have them break apart.

The way he hummed softly to himself as he mindlessly sprinkled sugar over each of the mounds of dough.

Kurt grinned as he realized for the first time that Blaine tended to stick his tongue out of the left side of his mouth when he was concentrating heavily on a task.

This boy is so perfect.

And I am falling in love with him more and more every minute.

By the time the last batch of cookies came out of the oven, Burt had returned from the shop and he and the boys polished off almost one entire tray of the crunchy peanut butter treats.

"These are delicious, Blaine!" Burt praised, reaching for another one. "You can bake cookies here anytime!"

Blaine smiled shyly at the same time that Kurt snorted.

"Dad…" He warned. "You know you have to watch what you eat. I don't even want to ask how many sandwiches you ate this afternoon."

Burt scoffed. "What? You mean Blaine's grillders?"

Kurt looked confused.

Huh?

Grillder?

Burt and Blaine exchanged a knowing smirk as Burt continued. "There is nothing wrong with having a full belly."

Kurt snorted again.

"Yeah… right dad… you just keep telling yourself that."

Blaine couldn't help but giggle when Burt winked at him after sticking his tongue out at Kurt and deliberately reaching for another cookie.

They finished their snack and Burt retired to the living room to put his feet up and watch TV.

Kurt and Blaine stood up from the table and began cleaning up their cookie-baking mess.

Kurt was thankful that there was no flour in Blaine's recipe, because they'd made a big enough mess with only the four ingredients they'd used. He began washing the cookie sheets as Blaine cleared off the cupboard.

Blaine put the peanut butter, the sugar and the vanilla back into the pantry and the eggs in the fridge, once again taking his time to peek at all the colorful vegetables on the bottom shelves. He then moved over to the counter and picked up the mixing bowl and the wooden spoon they'd used to mix the batter. There were still several clumps of the gooey dough inside the bowl and stuck to the spoon and when Blaine discovered this, he couldn't help the sinister scheme that sprouted inside his brain. He silently inched his way over behind where Kurt stood next to the sink, with his hands in the soapy dishwater, singing to himself carelessly.

When Blaine stepped up behind Kurt, he stopped for a moment, hesitating.

Should I?

Kurt is pretty particular about… cleanliness.

I wouldn't want to upset him.

What if he gets mad?

Blaine bit his bottom lip.

But…

I want to hear him laugh.

I miss his laugh.

If I do it… maybe he'll laugh.

A grin spread across his face.

Screw it.

He'll laugh.

He has to.

With a smirk that split his face in half, Blaine carefully lifted up the spoon and held his breath as he smeared the sticky mess across Kurt's left cheek.

The shriek that resulted was nearly enough to shatter all of the windows in the Hudmel household.

"Blaine…. Something… Anderson!" Kurt squealed, trying in vain to wipe the mess off his cheek with his shoulder. "You did not just do that!"

Blaine grinned for a brief moment before forcing his face back to the most solemn façade he could muster.

"I don't know what you're talking about Kurt." He managed to speak clearly and precisely without a hint of a stutter or hesitation as he pretended to wipe the counter.

He failed however, to keep the smirk off his face or the twinkle out of his eyes as Kurt's jaw dropped.

"You little…" Kurt started, but stopped himself when he realized he had no idea what to call Blaine that would express his astonishment.

Blaine laughed then, a hearty, gut-wiggling laugh that filled the entire kitchen.

His amusement ended shortly thereafter, however, when a large handful of soapsuds smacked into the side of his own face.

Blaine blinked several times in surprise.

Did Kurt just… throw bubbles at me?

The 'hell yes I did' face that Kurt donned answered his question immediately.

Blaine looked down at the spoon in his hand.

There was still some peanut butter left on it.

He lifted his eyes back up to meet Kurt's blue ones, which were wide and… warning.

"Don't. You. Dare." Kurt warned, taking several backward steps away from Blaine and wagging a finger at him.

Blaine bit his lip.

He dared.

In the ensuing three and a half minutes, gobs of peanut butter, handfuls of soapy dishwater and foamy white bubbles were flying left, right and center throughout the kitchen.

Squeals of delight, mixed with empty threats and jubilant giggles echoed and filled the entire home.

Just as Kurt had pinned Blaine (carefully) to the kitchen counter and had threatened to push an entire handful of suds into his face an incredulous voice sounded from behind them.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Kurt, knowing that his father wouldn't actually be upset with them, leaned into Blaine's ear and whispered with a wink.

"Pinned ya."

Blaine's eyes widened as he wiggled out from underneath Kurt and stood up straight.

"S-sorry sir…" He spoke softly. "We-we were j-just…"

Burt laughed.

"It's alright son." He said, shaking his head and turning back towards the living room. "Just… make sure you clean up when you're done."

Blaine nodded as he watched Burt walk away. "Y-yes Mr. Hummel."

"It's Burt." The man called back without turning around.

Blaine gulped. "Okay…Mr.…Burt."

Burt shook his head as he continued to the living room.

Mr. Burt. That's a new one.

When they were alone again, Blaine turned back to Kurt with wide eyes.

"He's not… mad?"

"Hardly." Kurt snorted.

Blaine thought for a moment. "You're sure?"

"Yup."

"Okay good." Blaine said quietly. "So… that means… I'm okay to do this!"

He vaulted himself back at Kurt, and reached his hand out to wipe the sticky mess of peanut butter that remained on it down the front of Kurt's face.

The taller teen stepped off to the side, missing the majority of Blaine's assault, and spun the boy around in his arms and pinned him against the counter once again.

Blaine's eyes went wide, the unexpected strength of Kurt's arms around him surprising him, but when he looked into the sparkles which filled Kurt's dazzling blue eyes, he knew there was nothing for him to worry about.

"Pinned ya again." Kurt quoted.

Blaine sighed in defeat.

"I give up." He said flatly. "You win the epic peanut butter battle."

"Of course I did." Kurt beamed proudly.

Blaine looked up at Kurt in mock defeat.

"I hope you're pleased." He replied with a pout, indicating to his left arm, which was still secured in a now peanut butter-stained, blue fabric sling. "You've defeated a gimp."

Kurt snorted and ruffled Blaine's hair, leaving it standing up on end from the vast amount of peanut butter that had made its way into his curls.

"But you're an adorable gimp so it's okay." He crooned with a wink.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"It's Devon." He said after a moment of silence.

Kurt looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"My… my middle name." Blaine explained. "It's Devon."

Kurt smiled and stuck out his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Blaine Devon Anderson."

Blaine looked amused, but stuck out his hand nevertheless, anticipating the handshake.

What he wasn't expecting was the giant handful of soap bubbles that would slap against his palm and splatter all over his face.

"Ack!"

Kurt roared with laughter when he saw the mounds bubbles sticking to Blaine's nose and chin.

Blaine tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably and the pair ended up in another fit of uncontrollable giggles.

After their laughter had subsided several minutes later, Blaine shrugged off Kurt's hand and looked down at the apron covering his chest.

"We made a mess." He admitted guiltily.

"Yeah, but it was a fun mess!" Kurt replied cheerfully. He dipped down to pick up the discarded wooden spoon from off the floor. "Shall we tidy?"

Blaine nodded with a smile, and together, the two boys began cleaning up the kitchen.

Again.

"Do you want me to help you undress?"

Kurt's face flushed an interesting shade of crimson the moment the words left his mouth.

He offered Blaine an encouraging smile, hoping that he hadn't made the other boy uncomfortable with his poor choice of words.

Blaine just shrugged, looking neither bothered nor embarrassed.

Kurt decided to interrupt the awkwardness by leaning forward and testing the temperature of the water for a third time.

It was perfectly warm but not too hot.

And loaded with bubbles.

"I mean…" Kurt added with a gulp as he stood back up. "I can wait outside, unless… you need me…?"

Blaine shook his head slowly.

"I… I think I can manage myself."

It was incredible how quickly the atmosphere had changed.

Only moments ago, the two boys had been giggling and carrying on in the kitchen, cleaning up the counters and wiping away numerous smears of peanut butter.

But now, after they'd decided that the only way for Blaine to get the peanut butter out of his hair was a bubble bath, the tension was back in full force.

Neither boy wanted to think about the fact that Blaine still wasn't strong enough to stand up in the shower by himself, or the fact that he still had one arm in a sling, or especially the fact that both his wrists and forearms were wrapped in white gauze from the events of the night before.

They didn't want to think about any of that.

So they didn't.

"I'll be right outside, okay?" Kurt reassured softly. "Call me if you need anything."

Blaine nodded and his eyes followed Kurt as he stepped outside the door and pulled it closed behind him.

Once alone, a shiver snaked up Blaine's spine as dozens of images and memories from the night before assaulted his mind.

He shook himself to clear the thoughts and began slipping out of his clothes. It took him a few minutes longer than it should have, especially to pull his shoulder out of the sling without inflicting any pain.

Once completely bared, Blaine stepped up to the mirror above the vanity and peered inside the flawless glass.

A breath caught in his throat as he made eye contact with the boy in his reflection.

His dark curls were standing up freely all over his head… and heavily coated in peanut butter.

He instinctively brought a hand up and flattened the locks of hair, suddenly self-conscious of his disheveled appearance as he stared into the mirror.

The boy in the reflection had hazel eyes that were surrounded by darkened circles, and his cheekbones seemed to stick out a little more than Blaine remembered.

But he didn't look like a stranger anymore.

Blaine sighed.

It's me.

It's still me.

I'm still here.

He brought his hand up and allowed his fingers to grace over the smoothness of the skin on his chin and neck.

Kurt had done an expert job of shaving him the previous night.

Blaine then looked up at the new shorter curls on his head, turning to the side to inspect the hair above his ears.

Even with the peanut butter smears, it looked fairly well trimmed.

Leave it to Kurt to pull off a decent haircut with no professional training.

Blaine stepped back from the mirror, carefully folded his clothes and set them on the counter by the sink.

It was time for his bath.

Kurt was nervous.

He hadn't wanted to leave Blaine alone, but he knew it was important to give him some space.

Blaine needed to be able to do some things for himself. It was important for his healing process.

But that didn't make it any easier to wait outside the bathroom door listening intently for any signs or sounds of Blaine needing help.

What if he hurt himself taking off the sling?

Kurt frowned and cursed himself.

I should have helped him that that off before I left him in there.

What if he slipped getting into the tub?

He's not strong enough. I should have helped him.

I wonder if he remembered to take off his gauze…

Dozens of scenarios played in Kurt's mind, doing nothing to reassure him as he stood impatiently waiting in the hallway next to the bathroom door.

As the minutes passed with nothing but silence echoing from the opposite side of the door, Kurt grew more and more impatient.

Suddenly, another frantic thought hit him and a wave of nausea flooded into his veins.

What if… he… last night… blood…

It was a fragmented mess of possibility, and one that sent chills up Kurt's spine.

He leaned forward and literally pressed an ear to the door to listen for any sign that Blaine might be in any sort of trouble.

Silence.

It took all of his willpower not to call out.

Give him space. Give him space.

He'll be okay.

Another few minutes passed, bringing Kurt's trepidation to a climax.

He couldn't wait anymore.

He needed to know.

After listening again and being greeted by silence, Kurt decided to take action.

He brought up his hand and knocked gently on the wooden door.

Nothing.

Another knock - this one slightly louder.

"Blaine?" His voice sounded much more worried than he'd planned.

Nothing.

"May I come in?" Kurt asked, trying to sound more composed.

He failed.

He was just about to knock once more when a tiny voice on the other side of the door finally whispered back.

"Yes."

Kurt started breathing again.

He sucked in a deep breath, mentally reassuring himself before he turned the brass knob slowly and cracked open the door.

"A-are you sure?" Kurt asked, his voice cracking.

He heard the sound of Blaine sinking further into the tub.

"I'm sure."

Kurt puffed out a breath and stepped inside the tiny bathroom. When he looked over towards the tub, he saw that Blaine was laying in the water, buried under a mountain crystal white bubbles.

Kurt sighed, contented by the image before him.

Blaine hadn't fallen.

Nothing bad had happened.

Everything was okay.

He reached into the drawer by the sink and pulled out a fluffy blue face cloth before stepping over towards and kneeling next to the tub.

Kurt reached the cloth into the water and dampened it before gently running it down Blaine's back using soft, gentle strokes.

"Any song requests today?"

"Thank you." Blaine whispered as he snuggled closer to Kurt's side.

They'd finished up Blaine's bath thirty minutes prior and as he changed into comfy clothes, Kurt had washed off his peanut butter stains and had done the same.

Now both boys were nestled on the couch once again, this time both sitting upright, but close enough that their shoulders were touching.

'The Fox and the Hound' was playing on the TV next to the Christmas tree and until Blaine had spoken, they'd both been enjoying the movie in a comfortable silence.

Kurt turned to look at the shorter teen and flashed him a soft smile.

"For what?" He asked, tilting his head to the side just slightly.

Blaine thought for a moment before answering.

"For everything."

Kurt's smile widened.

Blaine sighed.

"I mean it, Kurt." He explained slowly, carefully choosing his words. "You've been… so… perfect."

Kurt's breath caught just slightly.

"Blaine… I…" he started, but the remainder of his words seemed to get caught in his throat.

The curly-haired boy looked up at Kurt from under his dark lashes and a shy smile appeared on his face.

"I…ummm… I c-couldn't have…uh, I mean… I just…"

This time it was Blaine's words that were imprisoned behind his tongue.

Kurt reached over and gently squeezed Blaine's hand.

"I know." He assured him with a smile. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine's temple. "I know."

Blaine sighed, obviously satisfied with Kurt's answer and together they melted back into the couch and continued the movie in silence.

It was as though neither boy even needed to speak. They were so in-tuned with each other that words were often unnecessary.

Two soulmates living and breathing together in perfect synchronicity.

Even if they didn't quite realize it yet.

Finn was starving.

(But realistically… when was Finn ever not starving?)

He'd spent the afternoon (and almost the entire last week) at Puck's house playing video games when his mom had texted him to make sure he was home for dinner that night.

It sucked.

He'd been spending more and more time at Puck's and he didn't really want to come home yet.

I'm not… exactly… avoiding my family.

Well… maybe I kinda am.

Mostly I'm just avoiding Blaine.

Not because I don't like him.

It's not like that. At all.

He's a cool dude.

Or… at least… he was.

Before… whatever it was that happened… happened to him.

He used to look so happy before and… he smiled a lot.

Now… he just looks skinny. And sad all the time.

He's probably hungry.

No one should be that skinny.

Even Kurt isn't that skinny and he eats creepy weird shit all the time.

Even Blaine's hair is really messy now.

And long.

And straggly.

He used to always have his hair gelled perfectly.

It's weird.

It was like that one time when Kurt was all weird and sad - when Blaine was missing.

Now Blaine is the weird dude and Kurt's still kinda weird and… it's all just really weird.

Finn couldn't help the thoughts that tumbled through his mind.

He wasn't trying to be mean.

It was just… awkward… and he didn't like the strange feeling that he got in his stomach when he thought about it.

He shrugged his backpack up higher on his shoulder as he darted up the steps towards the front door of the Hudmel home.

He was really hungry.

It happened a lot faster than anyone would have predicted.

Although, had anyone predicted it, the near-disaster that happened next might have been avoided.

Kurt and Blaine were still nestled on the couch, mostly asleep when Finn came bursting through the front door…

...achnd slammed it.

Half dazed, Blaine flinched violently away from the sound, obviously not expecting the large bang that echoed through the living room.

His eyes squeezed closed automatically and he instinctively brought his un-slinged arm up to protect his face.

Blaine remained frozen in that position for several seconds, muscles tensed up as he held his breath.

It had all happened so fast that he didn't hear the sudden shuffling beside him.

He didn't even feel the couch move underneath him.

The only thing that alerted him that anything was wrong was the chorus of high-pitched whimpers coming from somewhere in front of him.

Blaine slowly cracked open his eyes and pulled his hand away from where it had remained in front of his face and peered down to the floor.

His stomach vaulted when he finally identified the source of the whimpers.

Kurt was crouched down between the couch and the oak coffee table with his knees drawn up into his chest. He had his eyes clenched tightly closed and was rocking manically back and forth.

But that wasn't what scared Blaine the most.

No, it wasn't Kurt's obvious terrified posture.

It wasn't even the frightened whimpers that were coming from the trembling boy.

It was Kurt's hands.

They were pawing at his face frantically.

Blaine's heart was pounding out of his chest. His eyes were wide as he watched in horror as Kurt swiped his hands across his face over and over.

He didn't know what do to.

It's happening again.

He's… freaking out.

Blaine felt completely helpless for far too many seconds before he finally snapped himself out of his own terrified state and desperately searched around the room for someone, anyone, to help him.

There was no one.

Who'd ever just come in the front door had obviously just gone straight through to the kitchen, because he'd seen neither hide nor hair of anyone walking past the living room.

Blaine could feel his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as his eyes once again fell upon Kurt, still seated on the floor.

"Nononononononono."

The whimpers had now formed into a desperate plea.

Kurt was begging.

"Pleaseohgodpleasenopleasenononoplease"

His hands continued to wipe frantically at his face.

Suddenly his pleas became increasingly desperate and his pitch more and more terrified.

"Get it off!" He cried. "Get it off!"

The intensity of Kurt's screams whipped Blaine off the couch until he was kneeling next to Kurt on the floor.

He pulled his arm out of his sling, ignoring the dull ache that set in the moment it was discarded.

He brought both his hands up desperately, as though he wanted to reach for Kurt, but he paused, completely at a loss.

What do I do?

He's so… scared.

I don't know what to do…

He whimpered to himself quietly.

This isn't helping.

Blaine gulped down the thick lump of fear that was residing in his throat and took a deep breath.

I have to do something.

He needs me.

I can't let him be alone again.

I need to be brave.

I need to help him.

"K-Kurt?" He squeaked.

Blaine frowned at the obvious weakness in his voice.

That wasn't confident at all.

"K-Kurt?" He tried again, and he was rewarded with a slightly deeper, stronger voice, which prompted him to continue. "Kurt? Can you h-hear me?"

Kurt was so lost inside his own mind that he didn't even acknowledge Blaine's words.

He continued to rock back and forth, crying and begging and wiping off his face frantically.

Blaine gulped.

This is bad.

He's so afraid.

What is he trying to wipe off his face?

Blaine sucked in a deep breath and took a chance.

He needed to do something.

Carefully and slowly, he leaned towards Kurt and reached out his hands, the dull ache in his shoulder once again not even registering in his frantic mind.

His fingers inched towards Kurt's frame, which was curled into himself. He was quivering violently and his hands were still wiping helplessly at his face.

"Pleasegodpleasesosorrypleaseplease"

Several tears slipped down Blaine's cheeks at Kurt's terrified cries.

Whatever was going on inside Kurt's head, it chilled him to the bone.

The second Blaine's trembling fingers made contact with Kurt's shoulder, the older teen snapped out of his fearful state and instantly lashed out; throwing both hands forward in a desperate attempt of defense.

The palms of Kurt's hands connected with Blaine's chest and sent him crashing to the floor next to the coffee table.

"Stop it!" Kurt screamed, still refusing to open his eyes. "Don't you fucking touch me!"

A scream of pain surged through Blaine's shoulder and down his spine as he crumpled to the ground.

Tears burned the corners of his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. He squeezed his eyes closed, desperate to remain composed.

He didn't mean it.

He didn't mean it.

He didn't mean it.

He's just scared.

He didn't mean to hurt me.

He would never…

The words became a mantra, repeating over and over in Blaine's mind as he struggled back up unto a kneeling position. He couldn't prevent the ensuing round of tears that cascaded down his cheeks when he saw that Kurt had folded his arms tightly around his drawn-up knees and tucked his face into them, desperate to remain hidden away from his invisible foe.

Blaine reached his hand up and brushed away his tears as he looked around the living room once again.

Where is everyone?

Kurt needs help.

Please.

Someone please help.

No one came.

The only sounds that interrupted the eerie silence were Kurt's pitiful sobs.

"pleaspleasepleasedontpleasedontpleasedont"

Blaine face folded into a painful grimace as he began crawling back towards his friend.

"K-Kurt, p-please." He begged, his voice once again leaving him with minimal sense of bravado. "Please…"

Again, he wasn't sure what he was begging for.

Please stop crying?

Please open your eyes?

Please don't… hit me?

Blaine couldn't be sure. All he was certain of was that he needed Kurt back.

His Kurt.

When he was within an arm's length of Kurt, Blaine paused once again, hesitant to reach out and touch the frightened boy in front of him.

"Kurt?" He cried. "It's me… it's B-Blaine."

No response.

Blaine gulped and wiped away the new tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand before trying again.

"Kurt? Please… You're… You're okay. You're safe."

Nothing.

He squeezed his eyes closed, praying for strength.

He couldn't give up.

Kurt needed him.

"Kurt!" He exclaimed, slightly louder, as he burst open his eyes. "Please! Please come back!"

Kurt's staggered breaths halted momentarily, making Blaine's eyes widen and his heart skip several beats.

"Kurt?"

Blaine watched as Kurt's muscles relaxed, just slightly. He remained curled up into himself, but it was obvious that Kurt had heard him.

"Kurt?" Blaine tried once more. "It's me… it's Blaine."

The taller teen's breath caught.

"K-Kurt? Can you hear me?"

If Blaine wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw Kurt give him the briefest of nods.

"I'm here." Blaine reassured gently. "We're okay."

Kurt drew in a deep, staggered breath and slowly lifted his head.

His eyes remained tightly closed, but Blaine didn't care.

Kurt heard him.

That's all that mattered.

"I'm here." Blaine repeated. "You're okay. We're safe."

Kurt's face melted into an uncertain frown and he brought his pale hands up to cover his eyes.

Blaine searched his mind for something he could do to prove to Kurt that he was safe. An idea struck him and he lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak, choosing his words slowly and carefully.

"K-Kurt?" It was barely anything more than a whisper. "I… Can I…"

He squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his fists as anger bubbled up inside of him.

Not now.

I can't lose it now.

I have to talk.

Kurt needs me.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His heart was still pounding wildly and he was breathing much faster than was normal.

"Kurt." He said firmly. He took a few seconds to collect himself before continuing. "Can I… p-please… hold your hand?"

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed under his palms, his eyes remained closed and he didn't utter a word.

Blaine thought for a moment, weighing his options.

He decided he needed to take action.

His words… stuttered and broken as they were weren't going to be enough.

"I-I'm going to touch your hand, Kurt." Blaine warned as he leaned closer. He slowly moved his fingers until they brushed against Kurt's trembling ones, still pressed firmly into his face.

Blaine sucked in a breath, relived that Kurt didn't flinch or pull away, and he pressed his hand tighter to Kurt's.

"K-Kurt…I-I…" Blaine stuttered. "I'm going to pull your hand down, okay?"

When he received no response, Blaine gulped, nodded to reassure himself and intertwined his fingers with the ones on Kurt's left hand and slowly pulled them down and away from his face.

When Kurt didn't protest, Blaine repeated the process with Kurt's right hand until they were finally facing either other, even though Kurt still had his eyes clenched tightly closed.

Blaine took a deep breath and looked closely at Kurt's face. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, and scrunched together so tightly that the corners of them were covered in fine wrinkly creases.

"Can you… open your eyes?" Blaine asked softly, leaving both of his hands tangled with Kurt's on his lap.

He gave Kurt's fingers the gentlest of squeezes when he didn't answer, prompting the boy subtly.

Kurt's face scrunched up further and he shook his head.

Blaine released the relieved breath that he couldn't remember holding.

It was the first response he'd received from Kurt.

It wasn't… positive… but it was something.

"Kurt?" He gently prodded. "Please? Please can you open your eyes?"

Another terrified headshake.

"It's me." Blaine stated softly. "It's Blaine."

Kurt's eyebrows lifted on his forehead and he sucked in a quick breath, but his eyes remained tightly clenched.

Blaine tilted his head to the side curiously.

Why won't he open his eyes?

Why is he still scared?

Doesn't he know it's me?

"Kurt? Please?"

Kurt's face fell. Somehow, he looked ashamed and scared at the same time.

Blaine chewed on his bottom lip.

He wasn't frustrated and he wasn't particularly scared anymore. He could tell that Kurt was still 'in there' somewhere, but he was just so unsure as to how to bring him all the way back.

He thought back to the numerous times that Kurt pulled him away from his own darkness.

He'd held his hand, he'd said gentle things, and he'd…

Blaine's eyes flashed open as the perfect vision surrounded him.

He gulped, hoping with all of his strength that he'd be able to make it work as he leaned forward and whispered softly.

"I'm here, Kurt. You're safe."

Blaine closed the distance between himself and Kurt, held his breath, closed his eyes, and gently pressed their foreheads together.

Kurt's heart fluttered the second Blaine's forehead connected with his own.

His chest warmed and the darkness that had been engulfing his mind instantly cleared, like the wind blowing away heavy rainclouds after a storm.

Blaine?

But… How is that even possible?

He's… gone.

A pang of heartache shrilled through his core.

He's gone.

He felt a sense of warmth spread through his body and a soft, gentle humming filled the air.

Warm.

Safe.

Love.

He shouldn't be feeling these things.

Not now. Not now that he's…

"Kurt?"

Kurt's mind suddenly stopped spinning.

Blaine?

BlaineBlaineBlaineBlaineBlaine.

His brain was tumbling… overwhelmed and… intoxicated by the sudden possibility that it was all a dream.

A horrible, horrible dream.

Is it real?

I can't… I… I need this to be real.

I need him.

Please let him be okay.

I need him to be okay.

"Open your eyes for me."

Oh god.

That's Blaine.

My Blaine.

He's here.

He's not…

He's…

Blaine.

Kurt desperately wanted to open his eyes.

There was a chance… even a small one… that everything was… okay.

He could feel Blaine.

He could hear him.

Smell him.

BlaineBlaineBlaineBlaine.

All he needed to do was open his eyes, and he'd know for sure.

But… what if…?

What if it wasn't real?

What if Blaine was really gone?

He'd heard the shot.

He'd felt the blood.

Warm and sticky on his face.

Blaine's blood.

Because Blaine was…

"Kurt?"

Blaine.

Real Blaine.

Not dead Blaine.

"Open your eyes, Kurt."

Blaine.

"Please?"

Blaine.

"I need you, Kurt."

Blaine.

I have to open my eyes.

"Please come back."

Blaine.

I need to open my eyes.

"Kurt?"

Blaine.

Blaine.

Blaine.

He felt a gentle squeeze against his fingers.

Blaine.

I need to open my eyes.

Kurt opened his eyes.

The second they focused on the wide hazel ones in front of him Kurt knew it was true.

Blaine.

Blaine was staring back at him.

Blaine.

His Blaine.

He was here.

And he was… okay.

But he looked worried.

Really worried.

His eyes were open wide and Kurt noticed dried tear tracks on his hollowed cheeks.

But he was here.

"B-Blaine?" The single most important word in the entire universe stumbled out of Kurt's lips. His voice was broken, weak and filled with emotion, but it didn't matter.

Blaine was okay.

The second his name slipped from Kurt's lips, something inside of Blaine broke wide open. Tears began cascading down his cheeks once again and he nodded quickly, not trusting his voice to speak aloud.

Kurt was back.

The boys stared at each other for several seconds, both taking in the welcomed atmosphere before lunging at each other and forming a tight embrace that they both wished would last forever.

Tears slipped down their cheeks as they tightened their hold on one another.

Blaine sniffled as he tugged Kurt closer.

He'd finally gotten him back.

He was never going to let go again.

After several minutes, Blaine finally peeked his eyes open and for the first time he realized that he and Kurt were not alone.

His breath hitched when he saw that Burt Hummel was standing in the doorway of the living room.

He looked… concerned, but not exactly upset.

Blaine wasn't sure if he should let go of Kurt and acknowledge the elder Hummel's presence, he certainly didn't want to, but he also didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

Just as he was about to pull away from Kurt, Blaine noticed Burt give him a reassuring nod.

Thanks kid.

You did good.

He'd seen everything.

Blaine gulped but somehow managed to return the nod, just slightly, before Burt turned and soundlessly left the room.

Then he focused his attention back on Kurt and held him even tighter.

Everything is going to be okay.

It was several hours later when the phone rang.

After Kurt and Blaine had picked themselves up off the floor and awkwardly made their way back onto the couch without discussing Kurt's most recent episode. They both knew they'd have to… eventually… but for now, they were content to just… be.

After they'd finished an incredibly awkward dinner with Finn avoiding eye contact with Blaine, who had unfortunately returned to his state of complete silence.

After Burt and Carole had discussed what he'd seen in the living room that afternoon and concluded that it wasn't only Blaine who'd been hurting. Kurt had been acting so brave, so strong, but it was obvious now that his coping mechanisms were exhausted.

They were all in the living room (aside from Finn who'd nonchalantly disappeared immediately following dinner) watching a re-run of 'Friends'. The shrill ringing of the phone startled all four of them, who, to that point, had been settled in a comfortable silence.

"I'll get it." Burt groaned, climbing to his feet out of his recliner.

He disappeared into the kitchen for several minutes before calling for Carole.

They both returned to the living room a short while later with solemn faces.

"Ummm, Blaine?" Burt started, fumbling with the cordless phone that remained in his grease-stained fingers. "Can we ummm… talk to you for a minute?"

Blaine's heart dropped and he stopped breathing.

What was going on?

Who was on the phone?

He looked at Kurt briefly before turning his head back to face Burt with a gulp and a subtle nod.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kurt asked in a soft voice.

Blaine immediately shook his head and squeezed Kurt's fingers where they were tangled together under his wolf blanket.

Together, Kurt and Blaine watched as both Burt and Carole approached them and kneeled down in front of where they remained seated on the couch.

"Blaine, honey." Carole began. "That was your doctor's office on the phone."

Blaine's eyes widened and he felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.

Kurt felt Blaine tense up and immediately shuffled closer to him on the couch and squeezed his fingers encouragingly.

"Dad?" He asked. "Wh-what is it?"

Burt took a deep breath as he leaned forward and carefully squeezed Blaine's knee.

"They… ummm… they got your test results back."

Blaine's face fell.

Oh god.

The tests.

With everything going on… he'd almost forgotten.

He couldn't even look at the man in front of him.

He suddenly felt a burning desire to release Kurt's hold on his fingers.

A thick wave of guilt and shame flooded his veins and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

I'm sick.

They're not going to want me here anymore.

I'll have to leave.

I have to go away.

"I… I… understand." Blaine said sadly. "I'll leave right away."

A collective gasp echoed through the living room and he felt Kurt squeeze his hand firmly under the blanket.

"You aren't leaving Blaine." Kurt exclaimed anxiously. "I won't let…"

"Blaine!" Carole cried simultaneously. "Honey! You don't understand…"

"They were negative!" Burt filled in excitedly.

Blaine felt numb.

What?

Negative?

But…

"You'll have to be re-tested in a little while but for right now, everything looks clean sweetheart." Carole explained with a relieved smile. "You're not sick."

Beside him, Kurt squeaked an inhumanly high-pitched noise.

Blaine still didn't understand.

I'm… okay?

I…

I'm not… sick.

I'm not sick.

He felt as though the heaviness that had been weighing him down was suddenly gone.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes as his heart filled with emotion.

Kurt squeezed his hand under the blanket once again and looked at Blaine with wide, excited eyes.

"You're okay." He declared dazedly, tears sliding down his pale cheeks. "You're okay!"

As hard as he tried, Blaine couldn't prevent his own tears from slipping down his cheeks.

He looked up and saw that both Carole and Burt also had tear tracks on their faces.

Everyone was crying.

There was more relief with every tear.

Later that night, when the boys had washed up and prepared themselves for bed, Kurt routinely walked over to Blaine's bedroom door to secure the lock when the shorter teen stopped him.

"Maybe we can leave it open tonight?"

Kurt looked shocked at Blaine's words, but nodded before returning to the bed and climbing under the covers with Blaine.

Together, they stared up the stars on Blaine's ceiling until he finally broke the silence some time later.

"I don't wanna hide anymore."