Part 1: Chapter 5- No Matter What

For the next few days at school, Kurt sat by himself at the lunch table, occasionally glancing over at Blaine, then returning to his sandwich. Blaine had tried several times to speak to Kurt, but he ignored him. Blaine had never felt so alone as he had in those few days. His father had come home the afternoon he and Kurt fought and got onto him about being disrespectful to his mother that morning. The bruise on his back was, thankfully, easy to cover. He didn't sleep that night.
He wanted so badly to climb out of his window and run over to Kurt's like he usually did, but didn't think Kurt would take too kindly to it after their fight.

After a week, Blaine saw Kurt after he stepped off the bus and headed toward his house. Blaine sighed and ran after him.

"Kurt...please talk to me..." he called after him. Kurt looked back, but didn't say anything. "I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Kurt's expression softened a little, but his body was still tense.

"I was just gonna say...I wouldn't be mad if you were...you know-"

"A faggot?" he finally answered softly.

"I hate that word," Blaine grimaced. "Momma says the real word for it is homosexual. I like that one better."

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back around to walk up to Blaine. "Fine...I'm sorry I pushed you."

"I'm used to it," Blaine shrugged, voice going a little tense. "Dad hit me again..."

Kurt sighed and put an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Wanna come watch TV at my house?"

Blaine's heart finally unclenched and a smile broke out over his face. "Yeah...thanks, Kurt."

"You're still my best friend, Blaine. Forever, no matter what."

Blaine put his arm around Kurt and they walked toward Kurt's house, both feeling like they were whole again.

"Summer!" Blaine tore off the bus, tossing his bag onto the ground and falling face first into the yard. Ella was hanging laundry in the side yard, smiling and rolling her eyes.

"Get up, crazy," Kurt laughed and kicked his foot. "You can't build a treehouse lying on the ground!"

"Oh yeah!" Blaine hopped up and grabbed his bag. "We gotta get some stuff from my room, then we'll go."

"Blaine, you're daddy's home," Ella stopped him before he barreled inside. "Be careful what you take," she dropped her voice.

"Just getting a blanket and some stuff to put inside, that's all," Blaine shrugged and Kurt tenativly followed him inside.

John was sitting on the couch with a cigarette and a beer. It was easy to tell he had been at it all day. The door snapped shut after Blaine and he jumped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he roared, coming up off the couch.

"It slipped, Dad," Blaine stammered and Kurt backed up against the door. It was typical that loud noises set him off. Post-tramatic stress was what Jeanette called it.

"Watch what you're doing next time, you little shit," John shoved past him and out of the door. Kurt let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"You ok?"

Blaine nodded shakily. "Yeah...let's just go," he headed up the stairs, quietly, and they gathered up a blanket, some baseball cards, a couple of gloves and a ball, and an army helmet Blaine's father had sent him from Korea to take down to the river. Blaine seemed to perk up a little after they had gotten down to the bank and surveyed the tree they planned to use. Their tools were down by the bank already and they used pieces of wood from an old farm house across the river for their lumber.

"This is gonna be so cool," Blaine bounced on his toes as they dragged some of their pieces up to the edge of the tree and started mapping out the floor.

"You know how to do this, right?" Kurt asked hesitantly. "I've never done this before."

"Me and the Bakers over on Mitchell Street did this while you were at camp last summer," Blaine hoisted the sturdy wood onto two low-lying branches and climbed up the tree like a monkey. "Hand me that hammer and a nail."

Blaine set to work, occasionally giving Kurt instructions that he followed in haste, getting more and more excited as Blaine started getting walls up and a hole cut out to climb up through from below.

It took a few days, but after a lot of falls, curses, and smashed thumbs, they sat up in the wooden treehouse with a deck of cards and a cigarette between them.

"Your dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out you stole this," Kurt held the cigarette between his fingers.

"He won't notice," Blaine grumbled, trying to organize his cards in his hand. Kurt hacked hard after the first drag.

"Gross," he thrusted it back toward Blaine. "You can have it."

Blaine expertly plucked the cigarette from between Kurt's fingers and took a drag.

"How did you learn that anyway?" Kurt asked, still trying to get his breath.

"If my dad taught me anything," he flicked the ashes out of the little window beside him, "it's how to smoke."

Kurt was lying on his stomach in his room two months later. School was due to start back in two weeks and he was nervous to start junior high. He wasn't sure if it was junior high he was really nervous about or the fact that Blaine wouldn't be there with him. Speaking of Blaine, he hadn't come to hang out that day like he said he would. Kurt knew better than to go to Blaine's when the Ford was in the drive way, so he had been waiting on Blaine to come to him.

It was almost ten when something hit Kurt's window. A small pebble, from the sound of it. Kurt furrowed his brow and climbed off his bed. Blaine never threw rocks...he usually climbed right up.

Kurt slid his window up and looked down. "Blaine?"

"Kurt...come let me in, please," he gasped, holding his side and his cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Just please let me in," he repeated. It sounded as though he was shaking and maybe even a little scared. Kurt quietly hurried downstairs and unchained the front door. Blaine hobbled inside and almost fell into Kurt.

"Whoa, what happend!" Kurt took in his friend. Blaine's face was bleeding.

"Dad shoved me into the table...the glass-" he was sobbing. Kurt put an arm around Blaine's shoulder and led him upstairs as quietly as he could, but the light was on under his father's door. He tried to get him to his room, but Burt's voice stopped them.

"Kurt? What are you doing?"

"I um...I let Blaine in," Kurt called down the stairs. Burt turned on the staircase light and gasped.

"Blaine? Son, what happened-"

"I was in the treehouse," he quickly pulled himself together.

"Blaine-" Kurt tried to interrupt, but Blaine jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

"I stepped wrong and fell out. I'm ok, just cut up," Blaine lied with a straight face.

Burt looked at Kurt, looking for affirmation. Kurt just nodded.

"Ok, well, do I need to call your mom?"

"No, I was coming to stay over anyway. I'll be ok," Blaine blinked back tears. Burt sighed and nodded.

"Just let me know if you need anything, ok? The peroxide is in the cabinet in the bathroom, Kurt. You know what to do."

Kurt nodded and quickly led Blaine up to the bathroom and shut the door.

"You just lied to my dad."

Blaine collapsed onto the toilet lid and started to cry, hard and as quietly as he possibly could. Kurt dug around in the medicine cabinet and pulled out the peroxide and a rag. He wet it with the peroxide and knelt down in front of Blaine.

"Hold this to your face..." he placed the rag in Blaine's bloody hand. "Let me see your side."

Blaine coughed, his face scrunching in pain, and pulled his shirt up. From below his armpit down under the waist of his sleep pants wasn a large purple bruise. Kurt reached out and touched it and Blaine let out a cry of pain.

"What if your ribs are broken?" Kurt asked nervously.

"It hurts so bad," Blaine sobbed. "But I can't tell anybody. They'll send me away."

Kurt didn't have an answer for that. It was true. He didn't want Blaine to be sent to the state home.

With a sigh, Kurt grabbed the peroxide and helped Blaine to his room. After wrestling Blaine's shoes off, he helped him lay back in the bed and rewet the rag, which was now a coppery brown color from the blood. The gash in Blaine's cheek wasn't too deep, but it was still bleeding pretty bad.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Same thing I always do," Blaine shrugged and sniffled.

"You can't keep letting him beat you up. He's gonna kill you," Kurt said angrily.

"He won't...he's my dad-"

"Your dad is pushing you into glass tables, Blaine!" Kurt stood up and threw the rag on the ground. "What if he did? What if one day he pushes you too hard and you die!"

Kurt was fighting the lump in his throat. It was a scary thought, Blaine dying. It had been said by his mother about his weak immune system and that's how Kurt thought it may happen one day a long time from then, but to have his best friend- his brother- in danger of being beaten to death by his father was far more frightening than that.

Blaine struggled to sit back up, his eyes never leaving Kurt. "I won't let him."

Kurt scoffed. "He's bigger than you."

Blaine swallowed and stood up shakily and walked to Kurt. Kurt could see what he wanted to do in his eyes so he did it for him. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine for the first time in years, hugging him tightly and taking in his scent. If he ever lost Blaine he thought he might die, too. The feeling he had in that moment was a scary one...one that he knew he shouldn't have had, but did. He loved Blaine. Blaine was his closest confidant and only true friend in the whole world.

Maybe things would be ok, Kurt thought. They will as long as I still have him.

Part 2: Teenagers

Four Years Later

Kurt hit the floor hard as a foot caught the edge of his sneaker and tripped him in the hall.

"You dropped something, Hummel," George Cornell laughed and spat at him. He and his leather jacket-clad accomplace high-fived and rounded the corner.

"Gee, you ok, Kurt?" Blaine knelt down and helped his friend up off the floor, picking up the books that had flown out of his hands when he fell.

"Yeah, fine," he muttered, rubbing his wrist. Blaine straightened up and handed Kurt his books back.

"God, those guys are real jerks," Blaine glared after the two boys.

"It's no big deal, Blaine, really...I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," Blaine walked beside Kurt, his fists stuffed into his varsity jacket. The years since meeting had changed them both. Kurt had gone to summer camp and come back to a whole new Blaine. Gone was the skinny, precocious little boy he had met on Gilmore Street and here was a broad, handsome young football player who had grown into his good looks. Kurt was nothing like that. He was tall, skinny, pale and feminine. Next to Blaine, he looked almost ridiculous or so he thought. Blaine had stuck with him through everything- the bullying, the harsh names, and the strange changes he was going through. Kurt knew something about him wasn't right. He had Blaine to talk about it with, but Blaine didn't know any more than he did.

"You wanna come over and start on that paper for Mrs. Winslow? I'm really stuck on it," Blaine ran his hand through his curly hair that was now tamed with the slightest bit of grease.

"Sure. I've finished mine, but I'll help you out," Kurt nudged his shoulder. "You're a little hopeless."

"Hey, just because I'm not quite as literate as you doesn't mean you can rag on me," Blaine laughed and nudged back.

"Fine, fine. I'll meet you on the steps after class and we'll walk."

Blaine bid Kurt goodbye and headed toward the locker room for gym. Blaine always felt light after leaving Kurt's side- like someone had blown up a balloon in his chest. Talking with Kurt so much about feeling like he was different started to make Blaine question himself a lot. Blaine liked Kurt. He was his best friend and closest confidant. They knew more about each other than they knew about broke his heart to think about them being so hateful toward his friend when he knew Kurt and knew that he was absolutely perfect.

They had been in high school only one year- two for Kurt- and already had discovered that the world didn't exactly understand their friendship. Blaine knew that most friends weren't as close as Kurt and Blaine. They didn't go to dinner together or sit up on the couch watching American Bandstand together while giggling about the outfits the kids wore. Because they didn't understand, things tended to get around that weren't entirely true. This was why Blaine officially hated gym.

After the warm up, they started playing basketball. Though Blaine loved it, he couldn't fight his underlying anger at being picked last for teams. He also couldn't deny that he was getting checked for no reason other than the muttered 'sissy' the other guy would spit his way when he hit the ground. When the final bell rang, he gladly skipped the showers to grab his bag and head out to the steps to wait for Kurt, gym clothes still sticking to his body.

"You don't usually beat me here," Kurt appeared behind him.

"I needed to get outta there," Blaine shrugged and they started their mile walk home. They passed the river and the old tree where their delapidated old treehouse still clung to the branches.

"Man, you remember building that thing?" Blaine leapt down the slope and looked up at it. "I can't believe we didn't lose our thumbs."

Kurt made his way over and looked up. "It's all warped."

"Come on," Blaine tossed his bag down and started climbing the steps.

"Blaine, it's gonna break," Kurt warned as Blaine squeezed through the opening at the bottom.

"No way, it's solid," Blaine laughed and held his hand out. "Come on."

Kurt warily looked the thing over. "If I die, Anderson, it's your ass."

"I won't let you fall," Blaine smiled. "Promise."

The smile made Kurt's chest flutter. Kurt finally put down his bag and took Blaine's hand. With effort, he pulled himself up into the old treehouse and looked around.

"Nobody stole our stuff," he picked up an old, worn baseball card that was sitting in the corner. "Though, your Jackie Robinson card is all moldy."

"I'll live," Blaine waved him away and looked out the little window. "I used to spend hours up here when Dad would come home. It was the only place he couldn't find me."

Kurt studied the side of Blaine's face. The cheek that had gotten cut by the glass table so many years before had healed to where it was now just a tiny white scar on his cheekbone. Ever since, Kurt still insisted he tell someone, but he hadn't told a soul. He never would unless he knew Blaine was in serious trouble.

John and Jeanette had started fighting a lot lately. It was only a small glimmer of hope that Jeanette would kick him out and Blaine would finally be free from the fear his father instilled in him. Blaine looked lost in thought and Kurt could almost hear him thinking about it.

"They still fighting?" he asked.

Blaine nodded, not looking away from the window.

"Maybe he'll get kicked out."

Blaine sighed and leaned back inside, leaning back against the wall. "You know what sucks? I still love the bastard."

Kurt shrugged. "He's still your dad, I guess."

Blaine nodded and picked at the string on his Chuck Taylors. "You know...I've never really thanked you. You've put up with a lot of me coming over in the middle of the night...helping me cover it all up...you kept that secret for me for so long..."

"I always will," Kurt met his eyes. Blaine's breath caught in his chest at the sun catching Kurt's face. Blaine knew he was gay- Kurt had always been his solidifying factor in that aspect.

"I wonder...if you'll keep another one for me."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "What's up?"

Blaine bit his lip. "You got really mad last time we talked about it...when we were kids..."

Kurt didn't seem to recognize what he meant. Blaine sat up straighter and picked at his thumbnail, a nervous habit he seemed to have developed over the years.

"I just...I still want you to be my friend after I tell you...you said we'd be friends forever once...no matter what."

"No matter what," Kurt nodded. Blaine looked for any doubt and found none. Here goes, he thought.

"I think...I may be gay..."

Kurt's expression changed only slightly. Not in anger, but in an almost relief. Blaine wanted it to be, at least.

"Um...ok," Kurt nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Ok? You mean you don't hate me?"

"You're still Blaine, right?"

Blaine wanted to cry. A smile broke out over his face and he nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Then I'm ok."

The other part of the news would come later- the part where Blaine seemed to be slowly falling in love with his best friend. The part where Blaine often dreamed about being with Kurt in every way. The parts where he woke up in a mess of sticky sheets and sweat when these dreams were over. That would come when Kurt got used to the idea.

"Thanks, Kurt," Blaine smiled and fought the urge to hug him, but Kurt beat him to it. Kurt leaned forward and hugged Blaine tightly and let Blaine wrap his arms around his friend. The smell of apples filled his nose and warmed his heart. Kurt didn't hate him. Kurt would always be his friend as long as he was still Blaine.
At the moment, nothing else mattered to him- eternal damnation, the kids at school, his parents. It was all secondary to Kurt's approval. Kurt was all that mattered to him.

"So, like...how do you know?" Kurt asked later that week. The topic hadn't been broached much since Blaine's confession. Nothing had changed. Blaine still slept in Kurt's bed that weekend and they went to the movies and watched American Bandstand as if nothing was different. When the topic finally came up again, Blaine had mentioned Calvin Jacobs, the running back.

"That I'm gay? I don't know...I just know," Blaine shrugged. "Like...you know the way you look at girls? That's how I see boys."

Kurt thought about it. He didn't really look at girls any special way. He would notice if their makeup was too dark or their shoes didn't match their skirt, but that couldn't be what Blaine meant. That was just a good eye.

"Actually, I don't really get it...how am I supposed to look at girls?"

Blaine furrowed his eyebrow. "You notice things about them...their eyes, their bodies, their smile...stuff like that."

"I don't really care about girls like that," Kurt said absently, thinking as hard as he could about any certain girl. He couldn't.

"Oh...maybe you just haven't found the right one," Blaine diverted.

"Have you?" Kurt asked.

Blaine glanced away from Kurt. "Yeah...I think so...but he doesn't like me like that. He's not gay, anyway."

"How do you know?" Kurt asked, crossing his legs on the bed in his room.

"Can we talk about something else?" Blaine asked quickly. He was getting sweaty palms. The thought of Kurt finding out just yet terrified him.

"Um...sure, sorry," Kurt muttered and shook his head. "Let's get back to the homework."

Blaine was glad to open his math workbook for the first time in his life.

Kurt was acting downright strange.

It started when he told Blaine that he couldn't walk home with him after school. Then, when Blaine came over to see if he wanted to go see a movie, Burt had told him Kurt wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay home. After a few days, Blaine couldn't stand it anymore and cornered Kurt outside the cafeteria.

"Come on, Kurt, you said you had to do dishes yesterday."

"Well, that's the thing about dishes- you use them every day, so there are dirty ones every day," Kurt snapped and tried to push past Blaine, but he wouldn't let him by.

"What's going on?"

Kurt huffed. "Fine...I've got a girlfriend."

Blaine's chest clenched and he tried not to let it show on his face. "Oh...that's all?"

"That's all?"

"Well, you know I don't care, right?" Blaine forced a laugh. "Why didn't you just tell me and I'd get outta your hair?"

"It's Quinn Fabray."

Blaine's eyes widened. "No way."

Kurt nodded and bit his lip. "Yeah... she practically kidnapped me after math the other day and told me we needed to be together...said I was likely to stop getting teased so much...and that she's liked me since first grade."

Blaine stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Oh...well, cool. I'm happy for you."

Kurt gave him a crooked grin. "Sorry I ignored you...I just didn't know how to tell you. I mean...it's kind of like I'm using her as a human shield or something."

"If it keeps you from getting beat up all the time, I'm for it," Blaine nudged Kurt's shoulder with his, making Kurt laugh.

"Can we hang out again now?" Blaine asked. "I've been bored out of my mind without Bandstand."

Kurt laughed and nodded. "Fine, let's go home."