This trip to the hospital was about as fun as all the others. They almost lost Blaine in the labyrinth of red tape that seemed determined to keep the two boys apart. If not for Carole doing some magic finagling, Kurt would have been resigned to sitting in the waiting room, biting his nails and throwing up into one of the tacky planters they had shoved in every corner.

As it was, the four of them stayed in the hospital for hours while an emergency room doctor ordered x-rays, CT scans, and blood work. A tired nurse, who normally worked during Carole’s shift but was pulling extra hours, cleaned Blaine's cuts and bandaged his chest. When she pulled up Blaine's shirt, Kurt's heart broke all over again. Huge black and blue bruises, some in the exact shape of a fist, marred his tan skin. Kurt wanted to reach out and touch them, run his fingers over them and will them away, but he didn't want to cause Blaine any more pain. 

After the tests were done and Blaine’s injuries were given a thorough once over, the doctor ordered Blaine hydrocodone to manage his pain. She told them that Blaine didn't have any broken bones. Whoever beat him up had done so with his jacket on. The thick leather absorbed most of the blows. Kurt found that hard to believe considering the amount of bruises on Blaine's skin, but he silently thanked whoever might be listening that Blaine hadn't broken anything, especially after being thrown out of a moving vehicle at high speed.

Kurt, his father, and Carole stood around Blaine's bed while the nurses got his paperwork together, preparing to release him. The doctor mentioned that normally they would have kept Blaine overnight for observation, even without any apparent head injury, but the victims of a huge multi-car accident outside of town were being diverted to Lima, and they needed the beds.

Kurt wondered in passing if any of Wes's crew had been involved in that accident. Perhaps karma had been a bitch to the right people for once.

Carole assured the doctor that Blaine would be well cared for, and glanced over at Kurt when she said it. Kurt stood by Blaine’s bed, keeping a firm grip on his hand, eyes trained on the soft rise and fall of his chest, refusing to leave his side.

The doctor snuck a glimpse of the boys, too, with a final, “I’m sure he will,” before she walked out. As she did, someone else knocked on the door. Kurt expected to see the nurse from registration come in with the forms they needed to sign to discharge Blaine. He wasn't quite sure how Carole got around the hospital's protocol of calling Blaine's parents, but he was glad that it wasn't going to be an issue.

Kurt needed to get Blaine out of there. He had never been so eager to get home.

A police officer walked inside the room instead.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Blaine Anderson?" the officer said, walking fully into the room and shutting the door behind him. "I was told I could find him here."

The officer’s eyes bounced from person to person standing in the room, and then to Blaine, lying asleep on the bed.

"Is that him?" The officer gestured to Blaine when no one responded.

"Yes," Burt said, extending his hand toward the officer, “that’s him, Officer…”

"Gregory,” the man said, shaking Burt’s hand. “I wanted to talk with Blaine about an incident that took place in Westerville tonight."

Kurt's eyes widened.

"Uh, Blaine's my boyfriend," he said, stepping away from the bed and towards the officer, subconsciously trying to block the man's view of Blaine. "He went to Westerville tonight to talk to a guy who attacked me."

Officer Gregory raised an eyebrow at Kurt. Burt put an arm on his son's shoulder.

"You're Kurt Hummel, right?" The officer glanced down at his tablet while he spoke.

"Yeah," Kurt said.

Officer Gregory sighed and shook his head.

"What is it with you two and these Westerville kids?" he asked. 

"One of them jumped my son," Burt answered defensively.

"Yeah, I know." Officer Gregory scanned his tablet. "But it looks like those prep school kids are going to get the jump on you guys this time."

"What do you mean?" Carole asked.

The officer handed the tablet to Kurt. His father and Carole peeked over his shoulder at the pdf of a document typed up on Dalton stationary.

"Those boys out in Westerville have already made a statement, claiming that your young man over there drove out to that school and attacked two of their boys, unprovoked."

"But, that's not true!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Kurt realized that he wasn't actually certain what happened at Dalton. Blaine could have done just that, but Kurt doubted it. He wouldn't know for certain until the painkillers wore off and Blaine could talk to him.

"Look at him!" Carole exclaimed, peeking over her shoulder at Blaine, his eyes heavy lidded, his body limp as he lay immobile on the hospital bed.

"Yeah, well, there's a Dalton boy by the name of Dave Karofsky with a broken nose," the officer explained. "And another one, Wes, with a black eye."

"So, he gave as good as he got," Burt reasoned. 

"Yeah, well, they don’t seem to see it that way," the officer said. "And they've got something your boy hasn't got. Witnesses and..."

"Lawyers," Burt finished. "They've circled the wagons already."

"But, why?" Carole asked.

"I'm thinking so that Blaine and Kurt don't try to press any more charges." Burt took off his hat and ran a heavy hand over his head. "They're sending these boys a message."

"Yup," the officer said. "I'm inclined to agree."

Kurt scrolled down the tablet screen to the bottom of the statement. He recognized some of the names: Sebastian Smythe, Wes Leung, Hunter Clarington, all names he expected. But two signatures in particular stood out, and Kurt felt his bones turn to ice: Jeff Sterling and Nick Duval.

Officer Gregory took the tablet from Kurt's hands. 

"I'm going to need to get in contact Blaine's parents," the officer said, looking from Burt's face, to Carole's face, and then to Kurt.

At that moment, cool as a cucumber, Carole did something that made Kurt fall completely in love with her.

"Blaine lives with his mother, but she's out of town on family business," she lied smoothly. "Blaine is staying with his boyfriend."

Carole nudged Burt’s hand.

"That's right," Burt said, quickly confirming Carole’s lie as the truth, a move that could have knocked Kurt over with a feather. As far as Kurt knew, his father never lied. He was honest to a fault. “He’s staying with us – with my son and me.”

The officer nodded.

"Do you know when she'll be back?" he pressed.

"Not really." Carole's nonchalant tone impressed Kurt. "She does this kind of thing a lot. He usually stays with me and my boy, Finn, when she does."

The officer seemed content with her excuse. He handed the tablet back to Kurt with a stylus.

"Go ahead and give me an address and phone number where he'll be staying, just in case those Westerville boys decide to press charges."

Kurt looked to his father for help. Burt looked back at his son and nodded. Kurt wrote down all the information he could think of: Blaine's address and cell phone number, followed by his own address and phone number. He handed the tablet and stylus back to the officer. Officer Gregory glanced over the information, then saved it.

"I'll be in touch," he said, the thought filling Kurt with dread. "And I suggest you guys stay away from Westerville."

"Yes, sir," Kurt said, relieved to see the officer leave. Once the man was out the door, Kurt turned to his father.

"Can he...can he stay?" Kurt asked, whispering in case the officer was hanging around outside the door. "With us?"

"Well, if I said no, you'd go stay with him at his house, whether I grounded you or not." Burt’s gaze shifted between his son and Blaine. Burt was concerned for his son in all this, about the things Kurt had yet to tell him, but he hated seeing Blaine in pain. He was such a good kid, so polite, so respectful, and he really seemed to like his boy. Burt couldn’t just leave Blaine to fend for himself. He knew Carole would take him, but she worked odd shifts. Someone would need to look after Blaine while he recuperated, and whether Burt liked it or not, his son seemed most suited for the task. "It seems the only logical thing to do is to have him stay with us. You know, so I can keep an eye on both of you."

Kurt wrapped his arms around his father and held him. "Thanks, dad," Kurt sniffled.

"Hey." Burt patted Kurt on the back. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo. I promise. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

Blaine still wasn't quite awake when they loaded him into Kurt's Eclipse and headed for home. 

Kurt had sent a text to Santana and Brittany while Blaine was in the hospital, letting them know they had found him, and that he had been beaten up pretty badly. When Kurt got to his house, the entire McKinley Crew was parked outside, sitting in their cars, waiting for their fearless leader to return.

Puck, Sam, and Finn rushed Kurt's car as soon as he cut the engine. He looked out the window at them with tired, irritated eyes. Kurt didn't quite have the energy to deal with whatever issues these boys had, but one look at their faces told him that they weren't interested in anything other than helping Blaine.

Kurt got out of his car.

"I could use some help getting him inside," he said in response to their unasked question.

“Got it, boss,” Sam said.

Puck and Sam supported Blaine, one arm over each of their shoulders, and lifted him from the car. Kurt heard the girls gasp as soon as Blaine emerged. Santana cursed quietly in Spanish, and Brittany whimpered, burying her face in her girlfriend's shoulder. Tina sniffled; Mike held her close. Kurt led the way up the stairs to his room, and had the boys put Blaine down on his bed. Kurt removed Blaine's shoes, and Carole and Finn carefully took off his jacket. Carole hung it over the back of one of Kurt's chairs, smoothing out the shoulders and dusting off what remained of the dirt and debris.

“Okay, boys,” Carole said, ushering them out when it seemed like they would stand vigil by Blaine’s side. They left, though it was obvious they didn’t want to, each taking one last look at their best friend, almost unrecognizable underneath two black eyes and scores of scratches. Kurt closed the door quietly behind them.

"Thanks guys," he said, following them downstairs and back outside. 

"Is he going to be alright?" Puck asked. The rest of the gang gathered around to hear Kurt's answer. 

"Yeah," Kurt said. "Nothing's broken, and he doesn't have a concussion…thankfully." Kurt crossed his arms in front of his chest, rubbing his arms to soothe himself, wishing it was Blaine standing behind him with his arms wrapped around him.

"But, he looks like a zombie." Sam's eyes flicked around the circle at the other faces. "He can't even walk on his own."

"They put him on some pretty powerful painkillers," Kurt said, addressing a circle of bowed heads. No one responded. They didn’t seem to know what to say.

"So, what do we do?" Puck asked. "How do we get these Westerville punks back for this?"

Kurt sighed. He knew this would happen.

"We don't do anything," he said. 

The crew grumbled at that, arguing, voices getting loud as they got more and more irate.

“That's bullshit, man!” Puck yelled. “Look at him. They could have killed him!”

“I know…” Kurt tried to intervene, but the boys continued on without hearing him.

“We should drive up there and kick their asses!" Mike said.

“Yeah," Sam agreed. “We should go now. Take them by surprise.”

“Surprise?” Kurt laughed. The sound of his laughter stopped the boys’ planning short, and they turned their glares instantly on him. "That's exactly what they're expecting. If you drive up there now, they'll all be standing around waiting for you, probably with teachers, the dean, cops.” Kurt rubbed his eyes that had begun to tear. “We can't do anything. Not yet. The Dalton boys already made a statement to the police claiming Blaine started all this. A bunch of them signed it.”

"Which means what, Lady Face?" Santana growled, cradling a softly crying Brittany.

“It means that if we drive off to Westerville and do something stupid, they're going to press charges against Blaine, and he'll probably get arrested.”

The group quieted immediately. Kurt felt exhaustion pressing in on him. He looked toward his house and saw his dad's face peeking out the window.

"Look," Kurt said, "Blaine isn't going to wake up until..." Kurt glanced up at the sky and saw the rays of the sun spreading across the clouds. He couldn't help but think of that morning on the mountainside. Blaine, his beautiful Blaine, comforting him, kissing him, his warm mouth on him. Wasn't that just a few days ago? Why did it seem like a lifetime ago? "...until tonight. Why don't you guys come back then? He'll probably be awake. I'll order a pizza. Maybe one of you could bring over his homework?”

"I'll do that," Mike offered. "We have most of our classes together."

"Great," Kurt said through a yawn. Everyone looked at him, expecting something from him, as if, somehow, with Blaine as his boyfriend and now incapacitated, Kurt had inherited the mantle of leader. "I promise, if something happens, I'll text you all. And we'll think of something." Kurt looked back at the brightening sky. 

I have to do something.

“Kurt’s right,” Finn said, putting a hand on his shoulder, lending Kurt his support in the face of his friends. “That’s what we should do.”

“Yeah,” Puck said. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “That’s a…that’s a good plan.”

The crew didn't want to leave, but one by one they climbed into their cars and drove away, except for Finn, who stood next to Kurt and watched the sun light the sky.

"What are you gonna do now, dude?" Finn asked, breaking the silence.

Kurt huffed. He almost a laughed. He’d lived the whole horrific evening moment by moment, anticipating the worst at every turn, until his stomach had turned to lead and his heart didn’t know how to slow down. Now that everything seemed to settle back into place, there was only one thing he could think of to do.

"I'm getting my ass to bed,” Kurt said. "Will you be able to hit the shop for a while after school? Help my dad out?"

"Yeah, man," Finn said, offering his fist to Kurt for a bump. "I've got you covered." Kurt bumped Finn's fist, nodding in thanks, and headed for his house.

"Hey." Finn didn't look at Kurt when he asked, "What do you think happened to his Mustang?"

Kurt froze.

"I don't know," Kurt replied with a slow shake of his head. Part of him didn't want to know.

Kurt walked into the house. He found Carole and his dad sitting on the sofa together. They’d been sitting in silence, but looked up at him when he stepped through the door. Carole squeezed Burt's hand, knowing this was her cue to leave. 

"I think I'll grab Finn and head home," she said, kissing Burt on the cheek. She walked over to Kurt and put her hands on his arms, but he pushed through and wrapped his arms around her. A startled Carole didn’t hesitate to hug him back.

"Thank you," Kurt said, squeezing his eyes shut. He was tired of crying, yet the threat seemed to always be there. "Thank you so much, for everything."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Carole kissed Kurt on the cheek, relishing the feeling of this previously distant boy melting in her arms. She would have stood there with him for hours if Finn hadn't interrupted.

"Uh, mom? I have to be at school in, like, three hours." Finn yawned into his hand. "I think I'm gonna head on home. You stayin’ here?"

"No, no," Carole said. "I'll come with you, honey." Carole squeezed Kurt one more time before she followed her son to the door.

"I'll call you tonight," Burt called after them.

“See ya later, Kurt,” Finn said.

“Yeah. Later,” Kurt said.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Kurt and his father alone to deal with the aftermath of a hellacious evening. Kurt nearly fell to the floor in exhaustion and slept on the steps, but knowing Blaine slept upstairs was enough to pull him up the staircase toward his room.

"Uh" - Burt stood and approached his son - "I just have to say, I'm not entirely kosher with the idea of the two of you in the same room. I mean, I know he's asleep...and badly bruised...but I'm just saying..."

Kurt sighed, wishing his dad could have started this particular conversation later, but he guessed there was no time like the present.

"Dad," Kurt said, not looking his father in the eyes, "I know you want me to be honest with you, so I’m going to be honest. Blaine and I are dating, and yes, we are having sex. But right now, I just want to sleep. And if I go to the guest room, I'll keep getting up to check on him. So, I'm going to lay down and sleep next to him...and sleep. Ok?"

Kurt didn't know if anything he had said made any sense, but his dad must have understood. He patted his son on the hand.

"Okay, but…we'll talk about that…later," Burt murmured.

"I can't wait," Kurt said with a humorless chuckle. Before he took another step, he looked into his dad's face. "Thanks again, dad. Really. Thanks."

Kurt tromped off up the stairs and into his bedroom. He opened the door and smiled at his boyfriend. Blaine lay on his side, hugging Kurt's pillow tight to his chest. Kurt pulled off his Doc Martens and lowered himself gently on to the bed, trying not to jar Blaine too much.

"Mmm," Blaine murmured in his drug induced stupor. "Kuurrr..."

Kurt's eyelids fluttered shut. 

"It's alright, baby." Kurt kissed the top of Blaine's head, curling in carefully against him and covering them with a blanket. "I'm right here. Get some sleep."

"M'kay. I lo..." Blaine snored softly without finishing the sentence, and Kurt chuckled.

"I love you, too, Blaine," he said. “I love you, too.”

***

Kurt felt at peace lying beside his boyfriend, even as Blaine whimpered in his sleep. Blaine woke Kurt a couple of times with his unhappy murmuring. Kurt whispered soothingly against his skin, kissing his lips gently until he drifted back to sleep. They slept the day away together, side by side instead of wrapped up in each other’s arms since Blaine was still too delicate to touch. As shadows stretched across the room and the sun began to set, Kurt's phone rang. He picked it up, expecting to see Puckerman's name flashing on the screen, calling to tell Kurt that he and the crew were on their way. Kurt rose slowly from his mattress and carried his phone to the bathroom, taking the call in there so as not to disturb Blaine. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen, turning hot when he saw the name Jeff.

Kurt answered the call, and without giving the person on the other end of the line a chance to speak, he started his rant.

"You had better explain yourself right now, Jeff, or so help me God..."

"Kurt?" a different voice than the one Kurt expected squeaked into the phone. It startled Kurt to silence.

"Nick?" Kurt guessed.

"Kurt, I...I'm sorry. I didn't have your number, so I used Jeff's phone." Nick sounded like he’d been crying. It made Kurt remember his own sadness, and his anger.

"Where's Jeff?" Kurt demanded. "I want to know why the hell..."

"Uh...Jeff's...asleep," Nick interrupted. "I just wanted to know...how's Blaine?"

"Why don't you tell me why you and Jeff signed that bullshit statement first?" Kurt hissed. "How could you? I thought Jeff was our friend."

"He is." Nick sounded desperate. "Please, Kurt. Let me explain."

"Go ahead,” Kurt snapped in frustration. “Explain it to me."

Kurt heard Nick’s heavy sigh, felt it resonate through his body like it was his own.

Nick sounded trapped.

Kurt didn’t feel much like sympathizing, but he understood how that felt.

"Wes beat Jeff up, Kurt," Nick said, his voice breaking. “Jeff tried to keep Wes away from Blaine, and Wes beat him up. Jeff didn't even fight, and Wes knocked him out cold.”

Kurt gasped. “Oh my God.”

He heard Nick sniffle, and his heart twisted, felt sick for him.

"They called him a traitor,” Nick explained. “Wes said he had to sign and so did I. Jeff refused. But then..."

Kurt waited for Nick to continue.

"Then what, Nick?" Kurt asked, shaking. "Tell me Jeff's okay."

“He told Jeff that if we didn't sign, he'd call my dad and tell him that we're dating. Jeff said it was his word against ours, but Wes said he had pictures of us together that would convince him…he’d show him proof…"

"He threatened to out you?" Kurt burned at the thought of Wes outing Nick just to get the boys to do what he wanted. How much lower could he get? How could one person be filled with so much hate? And these boys were supposed to be his friends!

"It's not just that." Kurt could hear a muffled voice in the background whimper, and Nick quietly shushing someone. Jeff, Kurt thought. Nick must be with Jeff, and Jeff must look a lot like Blaine right now. 

"My dad...he doesn't want a gay son," Nick continued in a hushed whisper. "He said that if he ever found out I was gay he’d...he'd send me to a conversion camp."

Kurt's breath hitched in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. 

"I...I'm sorry, Nick," Kurt said. "I had no idea." Kurt sat down on the edge of his tub and dropped his forehead into his hand. He wanted to let Nick go, return to Jeff and put this behind them, but Kurt knew it wasn’t that easy. If he was going to find a way to end this for all of them, there was something else he needed to know. "Nick?" Kurt heard shallow breaths on the other end of the line and thought Nick might have started crying, which made him feel even worse for asking. "The fight. Can you tell me what really happened?"

"Blaine didn't tell you?" Nick asked.

"No, he...he's on a lot of medication. He hasn't woken up yet."

Nick took a deep breath.

"Blaine confronted Dave," Nick said. "He told Dave to stay out of Lima and away from you. Dave got angry. Dave thinks...he thinks you belong to him, or something."

Kurt's heart leapt to his throat.

"Dave rushed Blaine," Nick continued. "Blaine was defending himself."

"Wh-where's Dave now?" Kurt stuttered, standing and peeking out the bathroom window, expecting to see a blood red Dodge Charger parked outside his house.

“He’s with the police.”

“Why?” Kurt yelped. “Because Blaine punched him?” Kurt pictured Monster at the police station, giving another statement, possibly getting ready to press charges on Blaine.

"Sebastian," Nick said. "His dad's an attorney. He called his dad, and the police came and picked Dave up. They're charging him with something. No one knows what, though."

Kurt had to sit back down. Nothing about any of this made any sense. What the hell was even going on?

"What about Wes's black eye?"

"Blaine didn't do that," Nick whispered into the phone. "Wes had Hunter do that to him after..."

"Kuuurrrrtttt." Kurt heard Blaine's painful moan through the bathroom door. He peeked out to see Blaine thrashing, struggling in vain to sit up.

"I've got to go, Nick," Kurt said. “I’ve got to help Blaine.”

"Kurt, I'm really sorry," Nick rushed out.

"Forget it," Kurt said. "Just take care of Jeff." Before Kurt could hear Nick's response, Kurt hung up the phone and ran to Blaine. “Hey, hey,” Kurt cooed softly, grabbing Blaine's flailing arms and holding them gently. "Blaine, sweetie," Kurt whispered, trying not to startle him. The swelling in Blaine's eyes had gone down enough that he could open them, but when he did, Kurt winced. The whites of his eyes were speckled red, the veins sticking out in stark contrast.

“Kurt?" Blaine looked straight into Kurt's eyes, and then shifted them to look around the room.

“You're fine, baby." Kurt tried to get Blaine to lie down, but Blaine was uneasy. As his eyes continued to dart around, Kurt wondered if Blaine couldn’t see him.

"No," Blaine said. "No, I have to go. They have my car, Kurt. I need to get it back."

Kurt laughed a little. That must be the hydrocodone talking.

"Blaine," Kurt took Blaine's face in his hands tenderly and kissed him. There were so many bruises, so many cuts. "I'm sorry about your Mustang, baby. I really am, but it's just a car."

"No," Blaine muttered, trying to push himself off the bed. "No, it's not just a car." Blaine rolled his head back and forth, looking for a way out. "My dad and I...we rebuilt it...before he found out...before he kicked me out..."

Kurt almost lost it, the rest of his strength evaporating with that one remark. Kurt remembered how fond Blaine was of his Mustang, how protective. Kurt knew Blaine and his dad had rebuilt it together, but it never dawned on Kurt what it must have represented. It reminded Blaine of the relationship he had tried to rebuild with his dad before his dad told him to leave and never come back.

Blaine whimpered softly, and Kurt shushed him, placing a kiss to Blaine's hairline.

"It's okay," Kurt said into Blaine's curls. "I'll get it back."

Blaine stopped squirming and squinted up at Kurt.

"You will?" Blaine whispered.

"Yes," Kurt said, trying to sound confident around the lump in his throat, hoping it wasn’t an unkeepable promise he was making. "I'll get it back."

Kurt watched as Blaine's features smoothed out, and Blaine slipped back into unconsciousness. Kurt settled Blaine's head on his pillow, and pulled the blankets up around Blaine's shoulders. In his slumber, Blaine mumbled contentedly. Kurt sighed. 

What the hell was he going to do?

***

The McKinley Crew showed up at seven o'clock, but Blaine still hadn't woken up yet. Kurt ordered pizzas and pay per view movies, and Burt agreed to let the kids camp out on the living room floor for the night.

Kurt sat on the sofa beside Santana and Brittany, Brittany's head occasionally resting on his shoulder while he stared at the TV screen, oblivious to what Iron Man was doing to save the city, or why the hell Leonardo di Caprio's little top wouldn't stop spinning. His head wasn’t in it, his mind drifting upstairs to the boy asleep in his bed. When Kurt wasn’t thinking about Blaine, he was considering and re-considering his plan to get Blaine’s Mustang back.

By the third movie, he didn’t even have a step one, and winging it seemed like a dangerous option.

At around midnight, everyone finally fell asleep. Kurt untangled himself from Brittany’s grasp, gathered his keys, and tiptoed past the other members of the McKinley Crew, sleeping in pairs on the living room floor. He considered going upstairs to say goodbye to Blaine, but if he went up there and his dazed boyfriend begged him to stay, he’d lose his nerve. Kurt slipped out the front door, closing it slowly behind him, but a large hand caught it before it clicked shut.

The door swung open and Finn stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

"Where're you goin’, man?" Finn asked. "It's, like, really early in the morning."

Kurt paused for a moment, trying to think up a believable cover story, but he was too exhausted to come up with one. Besides, when he came back, Finn would know the truth, and he might be pissed at Kurt for lying.

Also, it would probably be a good idea if someone knew where he was going, in case he didn’t come back at all.

"I'm driving out to Westerville," Kurt said. "I'm getting Blaine's Mustang back."

"Kurt!" Finn hunched over to look into Kurt's eyes. "That's crazy! They're going to beat you down, too."

"Maybe," Kurt said. "But I promised Blaine. I have to try."

Finn stood straight, obviously uncomfortable with the thought of Kurt going into the lion's den alone.

"Alright,” he said. “Then I'm going with you."

"Finn..." Kurt started to complain, but Finn shook his head.

"No, dude. I would never be able to face Burt, or my mom, or Blaine again if I let you go alone and something happened to you. I'm going."

Kurt prepared to argue more, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to go alone. What Wes and his crew did to Blaine was criminal, but they might do worse to him. Kurt didn’t have the amount of history that Blaine and Wes did, but Wes seemed to hate Kurt just as much. Kurt bobbed his head in agreement.

"Alright,” he said. “But we need to stop by my dad's shop first."