Carole sat at the kitchen table, deliberately sipping a hot mug of tea. She was pretending to read the home and garden section of the paper, but truthfully, she wasn't that interested. Her eyes kept darting over to where Blaine sat, immaculately filling in a page in one of those trendy "adult coloring books" she'd picked up at the store earlier that morning when she'd gone for some groceries.

Julia, a therapist she'd connected with through the hospital, had suggested that sensory therapy would help Blaine express his feelings. She specialized in trauma, and had suggested all kinds of art projects to keep his hands busy and, Julia said, to help him process.

Process, schmoozes, Carole thought, blowing a mental raspberry at the term. Like any of this was normal. Like that sweet little boy across the table was supposed to just adjust to what had happened to him and… what, move on? She was downright sick of reading about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and boring Burt with the details. Supposedly, creating things with his hands would help Blaine develop a sense of agency again - the idea that he could make a positive impact in the world, and that what he could do was important. Carole was all for that, but all this artwork seemed to do was frustrate the kid.

Blaine had begun at the first page in the coloring book without flipping through it. He'd smoothed the cover down against the table, and would look up from his page to re-flatten it every few minutes. The first page was a lion, set against jungle foliage. Blaine had eased every yellow, orange, and brown pencil from the package and had spent the first several minutes glancing from pencils to page and back again, choosing with exquisite care. When he finally began to shade in the lion, Blaine colored inside the lines with absolute precision.

Carole's tea was getting cool. She continued drinking it just as slowly, playing this out so she could observe Blaine for as long as possible without getting up. Part of her just wanted to see the kid rip up the pages and color the lion in blue, come to think of it. He might process better if he could learn to let go a little bit.

She coughed, gently, a subtle reminder to Blaine that she was still there so that he wasn't frightened by her voice. Julia had explained to her that every time Blaine panicked, it set him back a bit and reinforced unhealthy patterns.

"Well," Julia had also added, "They were once healthy patterns. In an unhealthy situation, the only way Blaine had to cope was shutting down his body and his mind, like what you've seen. The brain protects itself that way. Your brain always works as hard as it can to keep you safe, and if something too scary is happening for it to handle… well, it just kind of turns off the TV, if that makes any sense. Like the show you're watching is too scary. It's just that now, in a safe and healthy situation, those patterns won't help him anymore. He'll need to re-learn how to cope in a safe place."

Julia had been kind, but honest. She'd seen all kinds of trauma, mostly in children and teenagers. Carole appreciated that Julia hadn't seemed terrified by what Blaine had been through - she was a true professional - but she had to wonder what else Julia had dealt with if this wasn't shocking. She'd helped Carole a lot, though, by giving her reasons to stay calm in the midst of her fear.

"Blaine is learning to be safe again. He takes in every clue you give him to show him that he's safe now - from eye contact to body language to just showing him the basic respect he's been denied. And the longer he sees that he's safe with you, the more he'll trust. He will. Just give him time."

Carole knew the expert was right, but it was so hard to wait. She just wanted to grab the boy and hold him close. She wished that that were a safe option, but knew that random touch would frighten him.

I'm a mom.

I'm supposed to love him.

I just wish he'd let me in.

Carole's eyes wandered again to Blaine's hands, carefully filling in the lion's fur with a yellow pencil. He hadn't colored much of the lion-really just a paw, so far. It was almost painful to watch him work so hard and not get anywhere. Carole wondered aloud if Blaine wouldn't like to use the new bricks of clay she'd bought, instead.

Maybe that'll jump-start him.

Anything's better than watching him color that same part over and over.

Blaine nodded and carefully put back each pencil, closing the coloring book with care. He drew the clay packages closer to him and chose two colors: Orange and blue.

Now that's something.

They clash awfully.

She was suddenly struck with the thought that it was a good thing he wasn't sewing her a dress.

Wordlessly, as if performing an automatic task, Blaine shaped each brick of clay into twenty small, perfect cubes.

"Blaine? You can mix the colors if you want to. You don't have to keep them separate. It's okay to… do whatever. Even make a mess, if you'd like."

Anything you do here is safe, she felt like adding.

Without a word, Blaine conveyed his disgust. Carole had learned a lot from reading Blaine's eyes and the lines in his face. He didn't need to make a noise to let her know that a mess was not what he was going for. He arranged the cubes on the table so that they looked like chess armies, completely separate from one another. Arrayed in rows, for battle. Blaine sat, contemplating them in silence.

Julia had mentioned the possibility of Blaine developing obsessive-compulsive symptoms in an attempt to control his environment. It made sense; the poor kid hadn't been able to control any aspect of his own life so far. Still, Carole wished she could break Blaine out of his rut and get him to at least enjoy some of what he was doing. Even the hint of a smile would be a nice change.

When Carole could no longer continue drinking from a cold, empty cup, she folded the newspaper up.

"I'm headed to the kitchen for some lunch. You hungry, Blaine? We've got some Thai leftovers from last night, or there's that soup you like in the pantry if you'd rather. And the really good crackers!" She just wanted to give him everything.

Blaine didn't appear to be listening, but his eyes finally met hers, and he nodded. "I… I liked the pad Thai. With peanuts."

Relieved, Carole smiled. "Do you want me to heat it up for you, sweetie? I know Kurt likes it cold the day after-he says it's less spicy that way. But you can have it any way you want."

Bent into the fridge, Carole couldn't see the frustration creep back onto Blaine's face.

With every choice she gave him, with every gentle smile and offer, Blaine's stomach churned. Didn't she see that asking him to choose meant that he had to say no to something? It killed him to turn down anything from that kind face. He'd have eaten week-old tuna salad with liver on top if she'd offered it to him. He knew that choices like these weren't to be taken for granted.

And what if the offer didn't come again?

Blaine knew he was being stupid. He knew, deep down, that Carole's generosity wasn't just going to dry up because he didn't feel like soup. But some really loud part of him these days was almost feeling bad for the soup, like a little boy who worries that his teddy bear will be sad if he doesn't hug it enough.

Do I hug Thumpy enough?

And Versace?

What if Kurt didn't know how much he appreciated those gifts because he didn't show them enough love?

What if Kurt didn't know how much he…

Blaine's fingers crumbled the blue cubes almost before he knew what was happening. The cool clay mushed between his fingers and almost pushed back, it was so firm. Blaine pushed harder, squeezing blocks together just to feel them break. He'd been on the verge of tears, but this felt… this felt good. Specks of blue fell and dotted the orange army and Blaine forgot to care. He rained down blue clay like a flood on the orange warriors. His fingers moved almost without his permission, shredding the blue clay into specks.

Take that, orange bitches.

He almost chuckled to himself.

Carole turned with the plates of food back toward the table and couldn't believe what she saw. The change in Blaine was so dramatic, she had to worry a little. What if she'd pushed him too hard?

"Blaine, honey, is everything okay?"

He looked up, embarrassed to be caught playing like a little kid, but relieved somehow.

"Y-yes, yes, I'm fine… I just…"

"It's all right! You have fun," Carole said with a smile. "When you're ready, your plate's right here. I can always heat it up again for you."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Can you, though?"

Immediately he cringed.

How stupid did that sound?

"I mean… I mean… Carole?"

She sat down right away, ready to listen if Blaine was ready to talk. "Yes, honey. I'm right here."

Julia had told her that Blaine might want to open up at any time, and that he needed to know that his words would be heard. It would help him remember that he mattered, that he wasn't just a thing to be tossed aside. Julia had talked about reflective listening, about using Blaine's words back to him so that he knew he'd really said them out loud. Carole's heart hurt for the boy who wasn't sure anyone would ever hear him again.

"Carole, if I… I know this sounds crazy, I know it does, but what if I h-hurt your feelings?" Blaine's finger paused atop an orange cube, ready to flatten it.

Carole knew better than to be surprised by anything Blaine came up with, but she still paused. He was thinking of her? Of all the things that could upset him, he was worried about her?

"You're not going to do that, kiddo. I'm a big girl. I can take whatever you throw at me. Believe me, I raised Finn. I've heard everything."

She paused, wondering where this was going, and examined the table full of his orange cubes before she looked back up at him.

"Is there anything you feel like you need to say? Did I do something to upset you?"

Blaine's eyes widened. This was not how he'd expected Carole to react. He crushed the clay under his finger.

"No! No, not ever!"

Now he felt bad for making her think that maybe he felt bad. Which was stupid, and then he felt even more stupid for wasting her time on something stupid. All these feelings were dizzying, and Blaine couldn't put words to them. He pounded down three more warriors for the orange side, flat against the table.

"Then what's going on?"

Blaine shook his head, ready to descend back into silence. This talking was more trouble than it was worth.

Forget it.

Carole slowly reached across the table to Blaine's soldier cubes, drowned in blue. "Do these guys have anything to do with it?" She softly pinched one. She didn't expect at all what came next.

Blaine let out a scream.

An angry scream, a pent-up scream.

Carole looked up and saw his contorted features fighting to let words come out.

She waited.

She knew that if she waited, he'd find them.

Through clenched teeth Blaine muttered, "So selfish!"

"Who, honey? Me? Am I selfish?" Carole wasn't insulted-she was grateful to get more words out of him. Anything Blaine needed to express was safe with her. After her chat with Julia about what to expect, she'd braced herself for some pretty strong feelings.

"No! No no no! Me! Stupid! And s-selfish!" Blaine stuttered.

For Pete's sake.

I sound like Cookie Monster.

This is awful.

Five more orange soldiers met their doom beneath Blaine's frustrated fist.

That wasn't what Carole had braced for.

"Why on earth would you think that, Blaine?"

He kicked the chair leg beneath him, fighting for the right words.

"Why… why should I get to choose? I'm lucky to have food."

Oh.

Ohhh.

Carole resisted the urge to reach out and take Blaine's hands in her own.

So this is where he was going.

"Blaine, sweetie, you're always going to have food here."

Blaine shook his head again, sorting his words carefully. There were almost as many flat orange guys on the table as there were left standing.

"If I… if I say no. To something."

"You're always allowed to say no." Carole had read that it was very important to encourage Blaine to use his "no," and to respect it. One of the cruelest things that had been done to Blaine was the way they taught him that his "no" was worthless. That he was worthless.

Blaine needed to know that he had control over himself, and no one could force him to do anything.

"We're always going to listen when you say no, honey. No one's going to make you eat anything you don't want to." Carole reiterated.

Blaine tried to prop up one of his flattened orange cubes with a quivering finger.

"B-but… but what if then after that, what if you don't… what if you think I mean no forever?"

"Oh, Blaine. Oh my goodness, Blaine. That's not how it works. I promise, it really isn't." Carole's eyes stung with tears. "Sweetheart, we're not going to let you go without. Ever."

She thought of something silly to fight back the tears and smiled at Blaine.

"Why, Finn said 'no' to every question I asked him from the ages of two to five. He's still eating like a horse, isn't he?"

Blaine had to admit that Carole didn't seem angry with him. And she hadn't stopped offering anything to Finn, either. He focused on his breathing for a minute or so, assessed the orange army, and then looked down again.

"I just… I get… worried that… I… I don't want to say no. When you're so… nice. All of you. I don't ever want to say no."

Carole finally thought she understood. "I want you to think of something, Blaine. I want you to think of Burt for a second." She grinned, knowing the way Blaine's eyes always got bigger when Burt spoke.

Sure, Blaine knew Burt's serious side, but did he know the Burt who laughed with her, whose blue eyes sparkled just like his son's? That time the boys had had that food fight in the kitchen, it was a page right out of Burt's book. He'd won Carole's heart with his gentle teasing and goofy grin.

"Sweetie, do you think that if I had said 'Mmm, no, I just don't feel like marrying you right now…' Do you think for a second he'd have stopped asking? That stubborn mule?"

Blaine couldn't help but grin back. He had thought the new Lady Gaga CD was kind of lame, but Kurt was adamant that he try it again. And again. And when it grew on him, Blaine admitted that yeah, Kurt was right about that. The Hummel men were a pair of stubborn mules, all right.

He laughed, and found himself able to look up at Carole again.

"No, I… I guess not."

Carole knew she'd found her footing. She and her boys wouldn't let Blaine down.

"In this family, Blaine, we keep on trying. No matter what. I'm not giving up on you, even if you decide you don't want lunch one day. There's always a snack after that, and supper, and dessert, and a midnight snack… and breakfast, Blaine. Don't forget breakfast." She found Blaine's eyes across the table.

"And I'll never forget you."

Warmth spread through Blaine's chest. He reached across the table and rolled his orange soldiers together into a cool, firm ball. There were specks of blue all over it from the rain he'd poured down earlier. They bothered him, but not enough that he needed to pick them out this very moment. Lunch smelled really, really good next to him on the table.

"Thank you," Blaine managed, with a soft smile. "I think… I am hungry." Placing the ball of clay down, he dug into his pad Thai, nice and cool now. The best way - again, Kurt had been right.

Carole watched him eat with pride, knowing she'd gotten through to Blaine, even if it took the decimation of a clay army.

Later, perched on the edge of her bed, Carole allowed herself a few tears. She had thought after her conversations with a real trauma expert that she was ready for anything. But Blaine had really been afraid that her offers were temporary, despite how willing she was to love him as a son. Was he afraid that her love was, too? It broke her heart, knowing that she hadn't yet gotten through to him the fact that he'd be loved and safe here.

On the other hand, he had shown anger, and dealt with it successfully. Carole was proud of him for that, and made a mental note to tell him so later. As she sniffled into a tissue, she acknowledged that anger was, after all, a stage of grief. But grief is from loss… is it really the right word? Thinking back on their conversation, she admitted that he had lost something. He'd lost faith and trust in others.

Carole vowed to help Blaine get it back.

Kurt practically ran to the house from the mailbox after school.

He had a surprise, and was feeling giddy.

When Carole had bought all of those art supplies for Blaine, Kurt had gone a slightly different route and Googled "Science Projects For Kids." He wanted something Blaine could really let go and be goofy with, something that would get that smile soaring across his face again.

He just hoped this wasn't too weird…

As the front door opened, Blaine checked the clock and couldn't help smiling. It was definitely time for Kurt. He put the orange clay down and brushed some blue from his fingernails - picking the colors apart again had proven irresistible.

Kurt's heart soared to see Blaine busy and engaged. He tucked a small plastic packet into the back of his jeans, stepped towards the kitchen chair, and held out his arms - then pulled them back slightly.

"Wow. Blaine, you're, uh, you're a little blue there."

Blaine hadn't even noticed the dye from the clay, sticking not just to his fingernails but the tips of his fingers and the knuckles. In fact, his hands were tinged all over a slight bluish color.

Kurt chuckled. "If you're cold, we can turn up the heat! What happened here?" He made sure to keep his voice light, not accusing Blaine of doing something wrong but curious.

This is my Kurt.

Blaine's heart thumped in time with his thoughts.

Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt.

Blaine decided to take a leap and join him in silliness.

"I fought some smurfs. Kicked their butts."

His head leaned back onto the hip of the boy standing behind him and he felt firm hands on his shoulders, squeezing just slightly, spreading Blaine's smile wider as Kurt laughed warmly.

"Oh!" Kurt's hands flew up and to his pocket, then away, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

"There's something I have to take care of really quick. I'll be right back." Dropping a light kiss on the top of Blaine's head, Kurt hurried down the hall.

Blaine turned, wondering what Kurt needed to do so suddenly. Sudden change still made his stomach a little wobbly, but he remembered the last time Kurt had disappeared into his room.

Remember the stars?

He was gone for a while then, but he was just putting up the stars.

Maybe…. maybe he's doing something else like that…

Maybe it's a surprise!

But in the very next moment, Blaine chastised himself before he could get his hopes up.

Not everything's about you.

Isn't it enough that he comes home every day?

He's not bringing you presents for no reason.

You didn't do anything special for him.

He doesn't owe you anything.

Shut up and be grateful for what you have.

Blaine sat like that for a moment, shaking his head to try and clear the angry, punishing thoughts. He knew Kurt would feel awful if he could hear the way Blaine tried to trample down any new, bright green shoots of happiness in his heart. But Blaine just couldn't let something grow and be ripped out again. He couldn't.

Kurt's soft footsteps ended the argument in Blaine's head. As if he'd never left, Kurt planted himself behind Blaine's chair. A slender hand softly prodded Blaine to rise and come into the living room.

"Let's finish the Project Runway episode we were watching the other day."

Blaine nodded. He wanted to ask about what Kurt had been doing, but Kurt was quick with the remote and a fluffy blanket for the couch. He settled into Kurt's side and pushed his questions away.

If you need to know, he'll tell you.

You don't have to stick your nose into everything.

Kurt kept glancing at his watch.

Ten minutes…

Twenty…

Time could just not move fast enough. He knew Blaine could feel him twitching at his side, but he refused to spill the beans. Kurt had been worried that the running water from the bathtub had been too loud, and now he started to wonder if he'd frightened or upset Blaine somehow.

Come on, clock.

Move faster.

Blaine couldn't focus on the catty comments coming from the TV screen. He usually enjoyed this show, but his stomach turned and cramped in on itself.

Kurt's right here.

Just ask him what's going on!

But part of him didn't want to know.

Blaine picked furtively at a hangnail and tried to take deep breaths.

Idiot.

He probably just had to go to the bathroom.

No one owes you ANYTHING so stop even hoping-

Kurt gently poked Blaine's side. "Want to see something cool?"

The weight flew from Blaine's body. He felt almost shivery with the realization that there really had been something, that the box he'd packed his heart back into was flung open again and he could see the world for as bright as it really was.

He couldn't nod fast enough and Kurt grabbed his hand.

When they stopped at the closed bathroom door, Blaine wrinkled his nose in confusion. He felt light enough now that he could even make a joke.

"You, uh, you're gonna show me the bathroom? Kurt, I don't need to know what you did in there."

Kurt turned the knob and replied, "Actually, I think you'll be quite impressed…"

Without even taking a step in, Blaine could see that the bathtub was filled.

But with what?

They looked like little beads… beads of Jell-O? Blue beads of Jell-O? It was almost beautiful. They were shiny and bright and there were just so many!

Kurt paused to watch Blaine's face. He hoped he'd done this right. Carole had explained to him that Blaine needed positive, fun sensory experiences - things to touch and move that didn't hurt him. Kurt was sure the packet of Magic Expanding Polymers wouldn't hurt Blaine - after all, he was over 6 like the package recommended, and unlikely to put them in his mouth - but he really hoped that they'd be fun.

Blaine stood still, mouth hanging open in surprise. He didn't know what it was, but it looked awesome.

"Can I touch it?"

For a second, he was able to swat away the voice in his head that rushed in.

You sound like an idiot.

Kurt giggled and moved towards the bathtub.

"Sure! Come on in!"

Blaine's steps were a bit softer, a bit more tentative, but he was moving forward. Kurt couldn't wait any longer and dipped his hand in, right up to the elbow.

These are even cooler than the website said!

They're so soft and squishy!

Blaine followed Kurt's lead and gasped. The blue gooey things were kind of cold, but they felt really good. They reminded him of those blue icy packs for when your muscles ache - like, how they would feel inside. He didn't know what they were, but they were incredible. Bright blue pieces slipped between his fingers and didn't break.

"What are these, Kurt?"

"The science website called them 'expanding polymers.' It's crazy complicated, but basically, they start out as tiny beads and then absorb the water and become… well, this. I didn't know how well it would turn out, but they're not bad-"

"Not bad! This is the coolest thing ever!" Blaine grinned and brought a handful up to eye-level.

Kurt smiled with relief.

"No, this is."

He pulled up a single sphere from the pile in the tub and pressed it between his fingertips. Blaine winced, waiting for it to pop and fly everywhere, but it didn't!

"Check it out, Blaine. You can't break them, no matter how hard you try to crush them. You can try all you want and they won't break. I bet we could even stand on them and we wouldn't squish them."

In that moment, Blaine felt so free and safe under Kurt's smile that he bent down right away to peel off his socks and roll up his pants. He couldn't wait to feel this stuff under his feet. Kurt followed suit, and held out his hands.

"Here, let me help. You know I won't let you fall."

Blaine was used to stepping over the side of the bathtub, but not like this. He gripped Kurt's hands and lifted a cautious foot. One of Kurt's hands slid around to Blaine's back and steadied him, and there!

Ooh.

Chilly… but so fun!

Blaine turned back to Kurt. "It's like standing in a pool of Jell-O. But you're right - they're not breaking."

Kurt finished helping Blaine in and then stepped carefully into the tub himself.

"Ooh! This is so weird. But like, good weird."

Kurt sat down on the edge, kicking a few of the balls up. He held out a hand to Blaine, who sat down gently next to him.

Kurt edged a toe over to Blaine.

"Watch out, I think there's a shark!"

Blaine wiggled his feet and some more of the gooey blue beads flew into the air. The boys laughed and kicked, and soon they were flinging handfuls at each other freely.

Kurt's relief was palpable. He'd wanted so much for Blaine to be able to let go and enjoy something, like their food fight in the kitchen. He lived for the moments when Blaine's smile spread across his face like the sun.

"Blaine, do you know what you have in common with these little squishy guys?"

"I'm a, um, a little guy? And I'm squishy?"

Blaine poked his belly and smiled - he'd been eating so well lately that he was no longer all skin and bones, and it felt better and better every time Kurt touched him. He knew Kurt was probably just checking to see if he could still feel ribs, but his touch was so warm and safe that Blaine went over and over those moments in his head when Kurt was at school, using them to calm and center himself.

Kurt's laughter rang through the tiled bathroom.

"That wasn't where I was going… but yes, and I'm glad you are! I just meant that, just like you, these little beads don't break no matter what happens."

Kurt leaned his head closer into Blaine, and his voice fell to a whisper.

"No matter what they did to you, no one could break you. You're here, and you're safe, and you're strong."

Oh.

It was like a black cloud had floated into the bathroom with them, and it would always be hanging over them. No matter what Blaine did, he couldn't escape his past, and the blackness grew thicker and surrounded him. Kurt would never forget what had happened - who Blaine really was - and Blaine would never be allowed to forget it, either.

Kurt had meant his words to be encouraging, but as Blaine's face fell, he instantly regretted them.

This was going so well!

Why did I have to say anything?

Blaine's silence was deafening. His hands had fallen to his lap and his head sunk.

Kurt reached out a gentle arm and pulled Blaine closer. "I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to make you sad." His hand made soft circles on Blaine's back. "You're safe here. You're with me, and no one can hurt you here."

Still Blaine made no motion or noise.

So cold.

Cold everywhere.

Cold metal and dark, so dark.

Never even a blanket to hide under at night.

Just cold.

So cold maybe he'd just die, and then it would be over.

Blaine's body started to shake in Kurt's arms.

"Sweetie, you're freezing. Let me get you out of this tub. Here's a nice fluffy towel." Kurt swallowed his panic and held Blaine steady; standing him up and wrapping him in the biggest pink towel he could reach, right over Blaine's clothes. They slowly stepped out onto the bathmat, Blaine still mute.

Kurt helped Blaine sit on the lid of the toilet and stood in front of him, Blaine's head lolling forward against Kurt's chest.

"Breathe with me, Blaine. I'm right here. You're all right. I'm so sorry I said that," Kurt repeated in time with soft circles on Blaine's back. He knew from experience that his touch could help Blaine center himself, and he hoped it would work this time.

Meanwhile, he was going to have to figure out how to clean up the polymers before someone came in and needed the bathroom. Kurt knew better than to rush Blaine while he was in this state, but something needed to be done.

The instruction sheet had said that the spheres would dissolve in salt - something to do with the structure of the plastic and the way that salt sucks water out of it. Kurt didn't care why, he just hoped that it would work. He'd brought a canister of salt in before, so he turned and began to sprinkle some into the bathtub.

"I'm still right here, not going anywhere, I'm just going to get rid of these and clean up. Hear my voice, I'm right in front of you."

Blaine shot up. His eyes snapped open.

Get rid of them?

But it's me!

I'm the little squishy guys.

You said...

A noise escaped his lips like a plea.

Then the voice from inside again.

Shut up.

You're such a child.

He shook it away as he dove to his knees in front of the tub.

Kurt didn't know whether to be glad that Blaine was moving again or concerned for how quickly it happened. Blaine shoved both arms in and pulled the now-dissolving blue polymers close.

"Blaine, sweetie, I have to get rid of them so they go down the drain. Then we can-"

"NOOOOO!"

Blaine's voice hadn't been so loud since he'd gotten to Kurt's house.

The fear was all-encompassing

He just knew in his bones that if Kurt got rid of them, something terrible would happen.

Kurt sat back on his heels next to Blaine.

"You're upset because... they're going to go away?"

Great, I screwed up again.

Every time I try to make things better, all I do is wind up making Blaine feel bad.

I don't know what I'm doing.

I don't know how to do this right.

But he kept outwardly calm; he knew he had to for Blaine.

Blaine nodded, completely out of words. He held a fistful of beads tightly, and true to their nature, none broke.

Okay, that's new, thought Kurt.

Did not see that coming.

Don't quite get where this came from… but okay.

At least this might be an easy fix.

Kurt clasped a hand over Blaine's fist and said, "Don't worry. We can save some. I'll go get a jar. Can I help you sit up again so you're comfortable?"

Ugh.

I can't even do that by myself.

Blaine shrugged non-committedly but allowed Kurt to lift him back up to sit on the toilet lid.

"I'll be right back. I promise." Kurt's eyes made quick contact with Blaine's before he backed out of the bathroom and nearly jogged to the kitchen. In the recycling bin, he found an empty jelly jar and rinsed it out in the sink.

Blaine, left alone with his thoughts, clutched the blue spheres tighter and tighter in his hand.

This whole thing is so stupid.

I got to be happy for ten whole minutes and then I wrecked it again.

When am I going to stop being such a child?

Kurt's never going to see past what happened to me.

I'm always going to be the guy that all that stuff happened to.

We'll never be equals or… or anything else, ever.

I don't deserve it.

I'm literally afraid that what, the blue things will go away and somehow that means something about me?

Idiot.

What am I even going to do with these things in my hand?

I can't put them back in the tub.

I can't.

It would be like rejecting them, throwing them back on the pile to be destroyed.

What if someone did that to me?

Maybe they should.

Hearing Kurt's footsteps coming back down the hall, Blaine shoved the balls into his pocket. He'd figure that out later. For now, they were safe.

Kurt showed Blaine the empty, clean jelly jar he'd rescued from the kitchen.

"We can save some in here to play with later. If they start to dry up, we can always add water."

Blaine shrugged again but didn't speak.

This shouldn't matter.

Why do I care so much?

Kurt scooped up a few handfuls of the blue polymers and filled the jar, tightening the lid and handing it to Blaine.

"You can hold onto these for whenever you want to play with them again," he said with a smile, hoping to see a reflection of it on Blaine's face. Instead, tears started to fall.

"S-sorry. I'm sorry."

"Why, Blaine? What happened?" Tears, Kurt figured, were better than silence. At least maybe Blaine would tell him what was going on.

"Just… just don't… please don't hurt them."

Kurt was confused.

"The blue things?"

Blaine nodded and sniffled.

"I know it sounds s-stupid."

Kurt was still confused, but at least Blaine was talking, so things had to be getting better, right? He offered a tissue and moved to help Blaine stand.

"Come on, it'll be more comfortable in the bedroom." Kurt whispered, sliding his arm around the younger boy's back in support.

Blaine shook off Kurt's arm with a scowl.

"I can do it," he said in a tired whisper, and padded off to the bedroom leaving a hurt and somewhat befuddled Kurt alone in the bathroom with only the near-silent pop of the blue polymers bursting one by one.