"Kurt? Kurt!" Rachel's voice was penetrating his deep haze of thought, a certain voice echoing through his mind.

"What?" He snapped, extremely irritated.

"Well do you want to miss the plane, because I sure don't! Hurry up, last call for boarding!"

Kurt grumbled, lugging his huge carry-on bag and following her down the ramp. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was terrified and anxious of going back home. His brother and Carol were probably going to ask him about Blaine and why he wasn't there. Kurt didn't have the heart to tell them about it on the phone...

Kurt pushed those thoughts out of his mind, feeling the pain in his chest settle in for its beginning stage of torture. That wasn't something he could deal with at that moment.

Kurt and Rachel found their seats, stored away their things into the overhead compartments and collapsed, exhausted from their long drive.

"I need a cigarette," Kurt huffed, stretching in his uncomfortably small chair.

"No you don't, just order booze when the stewardess asks," Rachel scolded. She still hated the fact that Kurt smoked, even if it was on rare occasion. But then again, he had been doing it a lot more lately, she noticed.

Kurt saw she went a little stiff, looking like she was about to say something.

"So have you heard from-"

"No," Kurt cut in sharply, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. She never breached the subject since it happened, but Kurt knew her all to well. She only had so much patience. "So, how about we don't bring that up?"

"But, Kurt-"

"New subject."

"No," she insisted, lowering her voice. "I had never seen you so broken since Burt died. And even worse, I've never heard you cry so hard before. I'm worried about you."

"Well don't be," he said in a tone of finality.

Rachel looked like she was going to argue, but then she just turned over to lean against the window looking at their surroundings before take-off. Kurt was thankful that she got the hint.

Kurt felt really bad. He knew that she was just trying to help, but it just hurt too much to talk about it, or even think about it for more than a few seconds. He knew he wasn't fooling anyone, though. Rachel knew exactly how bad Kurt was suffering, but he wasn't letting anyone in.

Kurt gulped while getting a flashback of last night. The particularly bad nightmares were starting again. No matter what they were about, Kurt would wake up biting a pillow to keep from sobbing or screaming. He remembered one night he woke up to Rachel holding him tightly as tears streamed down his face. It only made him feel worse because it reminded him of Blaine holding him during those few times he was feeling vulnerable. He almost found himself wishing she were Blaine when she kissed his hair and whispered consolingly in his ear.

Blaine. Blaineblaineblaine. Kurt's mind repeated it over and over again. Blaine's voice would echo in his mind sometimes, or his charming smile flash behind his eyes, or Kurt could almost feel the soft touch of his fingertips when would close his eyes for long enough, wishing. Kurt missed Blaine so much that it seared fiery hot. It left a hollow place, and Kurt wasn't sure if he could ever open up to anyone like he did with Blaine again. By extension, it made Kurt miss his father even more. He just wanted someone to tell him that it was okay, and would erase all the bad feelings and problems in the world.

When Blaine left his apartment Thanksgiving Day, Kurt had never cried for so long or so hard in his entire life. Even when his dad died. Kurt sank to the floor, clutching himself like support and heaved, sobbed and wept and hyperventilated. He was probably never going to see Blaine again. He was desperately, atrociously in love with this man, and before their relationship could even begin it was ripped away. Kurt cried long after he was out of tears. It felt like an eternity. It was when he couldn't breathe anymore, he finally passed out on the floor for many hours reprieve.

When he woke up that next morning, after expressing so much loss and agony, Kurt felt raw. The reality of what had happened sunk in completely, and Kurt realized he needed to move on and get better. He knew this was the hardest step to recovery.

Kurt went to school those next few weeks and hid everything. He put on fake smiles, and carefully built back up his safe walls of insecurity and cautiousness. He started drinking and smoking more to cope with pangs of loneliness he would get sometimes. At that point, Rachel forced him to go out more with their friends. They helped, Kurt realized. A little. It was better than nothing.

Kurt was suddenly woken up by the static of the intercom claiming that they were descending into Columbus airport, and to put their seats back into upright position.

"Sunny skies with a high of 42 degrees this evening..."

Kurt wiped the drool off his chin. "That was really fast," he mumbled tiredly, gazing bleary-eyed at Rachel, who was in a much similar state.

"I'guess we were tired," she yawned while rubbing her eyes. "I just want to go to bed now, these seats suck."

Once they collected their things at baggage claim, they made their way to 'pick-up' to see if their parents were there yet to whisk them home.

Rachel was swept up into Finn's arms while Carol embraced Kurt.

"Where's your friend, Blaine?" she asked, looking around.

Kurt's heart twitched. "He couldn't make it," he murmured darkly, feeling his throat go tight.

She lead him to the car, letting Finn and Rachel have their moment before Rachel's dads took her home. "Well, that's too bad. Your friends are so eager to see you guys again! They told me all about how wonderful New York was."

"Great," Kurt said half-heartedly. He wasn't sure he could face them just yet. "Tomorrow? I'm really tired."

"Of course, dear," she said affectionally, squeezing his shoulder. "You should really wear a warmer jacket, leather is cold if there's no lining."

The ride to Lima was quiet. Although Kurt slept on the plane, his eyes twinged with tired-ness, but the smell of the car was making him nauseous, so he couldn't fall asleep.

It was nearly dusk when they pulled up the Hudmel residence. All was quiet.

"Kurt, your bed is made in the guest room," she informed, kissing him on the cheek goodnight. Finn hugged him and said that they would 'hang out tomorrow.'

Kurt lay in the dark, too exhausted from the day to unpack his things or even change into pajamas. He curled up under the covers, feeling his legs twitch every so often from fatigue. His mind was buzzing for a while, but eventually he started drifting off. That was until he heard a rap on the window.

Kurt's eyes flew open, his parasympathetic nervous system kicking in. There was another pang. Kurt got up, heart beating quickly and peeked through the curtains. To his relief he saw it was Karofsky (such a cliche), throwing pebbles to get Kurt's attention.

Kurt unlatched the window, peering out into the night.

"What are you doing?" He whispered loud enough for Karofsky to hear.

"I'm here to see you; didn't want to ring the doorbell," he called back quietly.

"It's not even that late, Dave."

"I know," he hesitated. "But I really needed to see you ASAP. I talked to Santana."

Kurt didn't need to hear anymore. He beckoned Karofsky, who clambered in quite easily since the guest room was on the bottom floor. Kurt closed the curtains, and turned to face Dave, who took a spot on the bed.

Kurt crossed his arms and waited.

"So," Karofsky began. "Santana told me that Blaine left you or whatever."

Kurt shrugged, feeling his eyes prick with tears. If it was the last thing he would ever do, he would not cry in front of Karofsky.

"Where's he live? I promised you that if he hurt you, I'd kick his ass."

"Not necessary," Kurt said shortly, really wanting to not talk about this. Why wouldn't anyone leave him alone? He just wanted Karofsky to leave.

"Look, I'm really tired, can't we talk tomorrow?" Kurt almost begged.

Karofsky took his hand. "I know you, Kurt. You are really hurting. I'm here if you need to talk about it."

Kurt cleared his throat, still avoiding his gaze. "Well, I'm fine. Really."

"No, you're not," his thumb was stroking Kurt's knuckles. "I saw the way you were with him."

Kurt couldn't bring himself to lie again, so he just remained silent, trying his best not to let tears spring free, fighting the huge lump in his throat.

After a long while, Karofsky finally spoke up. "Well if you aren't going to talk, you have two options." Kurt raised his eyebrow, interested. "I can just leave, and me as well as the rest of the gang will bombard you will affection and questions tomorrow, or.. you can let me cheer you up now."

"How so?"

And before Kurt even finished his question, he had a feeling that was proven right because Karofsky started to lean in. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, haunted by that old memory of his first kiss, body tensed up from revulsion.

But when Karofsky's lips touched his, it was gentle. It was the opposite of what Kurt expected. When Karofsky attacked-kissed him in high school, it was a desperate act of a scared boy. However now his lips moved confidently and surely against Kurt's. His body screamed at him, reminding him that it wasn't Blaine, but his hormones tried to fight back. Kurt responded to the kiss for a moment, and once he fully realized what he was doing, he jumped away, completely shocked by himself, covering his mouth.

"No, I can't do this."

Karofsky's eyes were pleading. "Why not, Kurt? Just this once? I'll do anything. I can even pretend it never happened by tomorrow. Just give me this one chance. It will mean the world to me."

Kurt hesitated. His stomach twisted up, making him almost feel sick, but at the same time his body, mind and heart craved any type of human connection. Even if it was from somebody Kurt really didn't want.

Kurt found himself unable to find a stranger to sleep with after Blaine left, but Karofsky was his friend. Maybe just sleeping with him would take away some of the pain for a while. And since Karofsky respected him and liked him enough, maybe Kurt would get more out of it. Plus, he wanted to feel like he was moving on from Blaine physically. It was like the last time they made love imprinted on Kurt, and Kurt just wanted that to go away.

While Kurt deliberated, Karofsky waited patiently, but with bated breath. He knew it was wrong to take advantage of Kurt in such a vulnerable state, but this was the closest Kurt was ever going to be with him, and Karofsky would not miss out on that chance for anything.

"Okay, but only on one condition," Kurt finally decided.

"Yes," Karofsky was feeling pure euphoria, hardly believing it was true. Finally. "Anything."

"I don't ever bottom."

Karofsky shivered at his words. "You can have your way with me, Kurt."

"Okay," Kurt nodded. "Wait. Also, you aren't spending the night. And you can't expect anything more than just this. I am not interested in you romantically, nor will I ever date you. Got it?"

Karofsky took in his blunt words with thick skin. "I understand."

When Kurt fucked Karofsky bent over on the floor that night, all he could think about was how utterly wrong it felt.