Kurt let out a breath and leaned back against the plastic chair back in the waiting room. His ribs throbbed, making his face scrunch in a grimace. Jeanette was trying to keep her voice down as she argued with the woman behind the desk in the E.R. Blaine had been in the back for over an hour and though three nurses had already been at Kurt's side inquiring about his health and wellness, he waved them back toward the double doors. Blaine needed them more.

A doctor finally walked through the doors and asked for the Anderson party. Jeanette quickly appeared at the doctor's side.

"Where's my son?"

"He's in a room now. Before you two go back, I need to know what happened to him. He's beaten up pretty bad."

Kurt hobbled over before Jeanette could spill her guts. "We were hanging out with some friends. A couple of guys started messing with me and he jumped in to help...guess they won," Kurt tried to make it seem more harmless than it was. Jeanette crossed her arms looked past the doctor to the doors. 

"Is that true, Mrs. Anderson?" The doctor looked to the distressed young woman.

"I...I wasn't there...Kurt brought him home and said we needed to bring him here...I believe him," she answered quietly. "I just want to see my son."

The doctor nodded. "I'll lead you back."

The room was at the end of the hall on the left. When they opened the door, Blaine was sitting up in the bed, hidden by a nurse who was wrapping his hand.

"Blaine, your friend and mother are here," the doctor announced and with a pat to Kurt's shoulder, smiled. "Stay out of fights from now on, ok, kid?"

Kurt just nodded and followed the doctor out with his eyes. The nurse placed some small scissors down on the sterile table and walked back over to the IV machine and Kurt gasped. Blaine's eyebrow was stitched, obviously torn off in the scuffle and sewed back on. Bruises and cuts covered his swollen face and his hands were destroyed, covered with clean white bandages tinged brown around the knuckles where the blood had seaped through.

"I'll leave you alone with him," the nurse smiled and shut the door behind her. The tension and silence in the room was buzzing around them until Jeanette cleared her throat.

"Are you ok, honey?"

Blaine, who had remained motionless, staring at the dark stain on his blanket, shrugged. "Sore." He looked up at Kurt, whose eyes were beginning to swell with tears.

"Did he hurt you?"

Kurt fought back a sob and shook his head. "I'm ok. Don't worry about me."

Blaine sighed and lay his head back on his pillow. Jeanette collapsed into the plastic chair next to Blaine's bed and buried her head in her hands.

"I'm so sorry, baby...I should have ended this so long ago-"

"How did he find out, Mama," Blaine mumbled hoarsely, turning his head on his pillow to face her. She looked up at him, then to Kurt.

"He...he saw you two by the river tonight...he said I had been acting strangely and demanded I tell him what I knew...I'm so sorry, Blaine, he threw things and grabbed me-"

Jeanette blubbered until Blaine raised a bandaged hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek. "Mama...stop."

Jeanette's face crumpled and she lay her head at Blaine's hip on the bed. Though he was bandaged, his fingers were still movable and he twined them in her thick, brown curls, soothing her and shushing her gently.

"I'm ok, Mama. It's all gonna be ok."

"What did he say to you, Blaine? Why can't we tell them what really happened to you? He could go to jail and you'd be safe," Jeanette sat up, taking Blaine's hand carefully. Blaine glanced up at Kurt, seeing fear and curiosity in his eyes as well.

"I'm not gonna tell you...because it's not gonna happen. He's gone. And I won't let him hurt us again," he ran his fingers gently over her hand. "I promise I'll keep you and Kurt safe, Mama."

"What about you?" Kurt finally spoke up, his voice breaking. Blaine looked up at him with warm, sorrowful eyes and held out his free hand to Kurt, inviting him to sit on the edge of his bed. Kurt finally did so and took Blaine's hand. 

"I'm fine as long as I have you," he mumbled into the skin of Kurt's knuckles as he kissed them gently. "Nothing can touch me."

Kurt choked and Blaine pulled him down to rest his head on his thigh. They sat like that all night, all three falling in and out of fitful sleeps.

Ella fussed over Blaine for the next three weeks, making sure he didn't get too hot and soak his stitches or stayed on the couch to rest up his aching, broken body.

"Damnit, Ella, I'm fine, I promise," he finally cracked after the third week while she fiddled with the pillows under his feet.

"You almost done healin', Mister Blaine, then you can Mister Kurt and galavant all y'all want," she winked at Kurt, who giggled from his seat on the floor by Blaine's head. 

Blaine rolled his eyes and twined his fingers with Kurt's again while Kurt read aloud from the book they had been studying at school. He came over every day to help Blaine catch up. His mother kept him home because she was sure there had to be some emotional damage done to him and that he wasn't ready for the kids at school to ask questions.

"I'm not gonna 'galavant', " Blaine said with an exagerated hand motion. "I'm just tired of you fussing over me."

A rumble of thunder outside startled all three of them.

"Lord, I hope your Mama gets back soon. That don't look too good," Ella looked out the window, seeing the dark, swirling clouds over the town.

"They said the tornado was moving north," Kurt glanced up from his book.

"Mmm, I don't know," Ella pulled back the curtains a little more. "It look too dark if you asks me..."

About that time a great flash of lightning brightened the room and the lights blew, followed by a deep roll of thunder and Ella scrambling away from the window.

"Boys, why don't y'all study in the hall closet. I'll get some flashlights and candles together," she shooed them up off the couch and Kurt helped Blaine down the hall to the closet. It was small, but the three of them could fit easily inside.

"Blaine...it's not really gonna be a tornado, is it?"

"Looks like it...I've only ever been in one, but I barely remember it," Blaine squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, thought, I've got you. You'll be safe. Ella knows what she's doing."

It was quiet in the tiny closet and they were beginning to get a little bored. Ella hadn't brought back the lights, so they couldn't study, so they began to gently exchange kisses in the dark, blindly searching for each other's cheeks or hands to grasp on to. After a while, a noise seperated them. It was almost like a distant train approaching them at breakneck speed.

"Kurt...hold on to me," Blaine fumbled around, looking for Kurt's shoulders.

"Wha-?"

"Do it," Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders and pulled his head against his chest. The roaring grew louder then suddenly, the ceiling was gone. Kurt screamed as things flew around them, ungodly noises filling his ears. Blaine slid his hand over Kurt's ear and shrunk down against him tighter, shielding him from the debris tossing around them. Though it seemed like it lasted an eternity, moments later the world settled around them and Blaine and Kurt opened their eyes and looked around them.

The neighborhood was leveled. Across the street, Kurt's house was still semi-intact. From the rubble, Burt stumbled, coughing and shoving boards out of his way.

"Dad!" Kurt cried out and scrambled to his feet. Burt let out a relieved noise and ran to his son, gathering him in his arms and lifting him off the ground.

"You're ok...thank god," he mumbled against his neck. He put Kurt down and hugged Blaine as well. "We should probably try and help the others."

Blaine nodded, then froze. "Oh, god, Ella!"

Blaine turned and bolted back toward his house, screaming for his nanny, but getting no response. Kurt and Burt began shoving debris out of the way searching.

"Ella!?" Blaine tripped and grappled over what used to be his kitchen, eyes darting around for any sign of movement. 

"Blaine..." he heard Kurt gasp behind him. He turned and saw Kurt standing and staring down at the ground, his eyes welling up. There, beneath the old, busted kitchen table and back door, was Ella's hand peaking out from underneath.

"Help me get it off her," Blaine's voice shook and he and the other two men began trying to lift the broken wood off the woman. After many failed attempts and angry curse words, they finally moved the door and table and Ella lay, eyes open and still, dead on the ground. Blaine dropped to his knees beside her and took her cold hand in his.

"Ella," he sobbed. Kurt knelt down beside him and cradled Blaine close to his chest. Burt took off his hat and blinked back some of his own tears, looking around and noticing more people coming out of their homes. 

"I'm gonna go see if anyone needs help," he leaned down and patted Blaine's shoulder before turning and stepping over the wood towards the road. Kurt didn't care that there were others out and about now. All he cared about was comforting Blaine, who was sobbing against his chest and clutching at his old nanny's hand like a life line.

"Come on, let's move her out of this debris," Kurt muttered against Blaine's hair and kissed it gently before getting the boy to finally move. They lifted her with

a bit of difficulty and carried her to the back yard where there was a clean patch of grass. Kurt closed her eyes and placed a hand over hers where it rested on

her belly. 

"It was obviously quick," he said to his boyfriend. "So she didn't suffer...right?"

Blaine sniffed and nodded. "Yeah...maybe we should go help your dad."

Kurt nodded and he and Blaine walked back toward the road, Blaine not looking back toward the body behind his house. His and Kurt's homes were the first on the 

neighborhood and along the street, they could see the others. Theirs got the worst of it, but other homes were shredded across the road and cars that were once parked

along the sidewalk were now sideways in the street or gone all together. After a while, they gathered that Ella and four others on the block had died, 13 were

injured and the others had walked away without so much as a scratch and a scare. After a while, Blaine began to worry about his mother. She hadn't come back from

her bridge game yet and he hadn't heard anything about Rainey Street getting hit, so he didn't know if she was hurt or worse. Kurt walked up behind him later as the sun was trying to peak through the black clouds over the direction Blaine was looking- toward Rainey Street. 

"Blaine...the police are looking for you."

Blaine furrowed his brow and turned around. Kurt's eyes were red and swollen, melting into deep sorrow when they met Blaine's.

"Why?"

Kurt shook his head and Blaine knew it wasn't good. He knew it was his mother. Blaine pushed past Kurt and ran toward the black and white patrol car parked sideways on the road where it was blocking traffic because of the fallen tree from the McKinley's yard.

"What happened, where is she!?" he begged the officer talking to Burt. Burt slid his eyes closed and turned away.

"Are you Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes, yes, where is my mom?"

The officer sighed and took something out of his pocket- a golden locket much like the one his mother wore around her neck...one with his baby picture in it. When he was 

handed the locket, stained with blood, he knew she was gone. 

"I'm very sorry, son," he placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder as the boy stared, stunned and lost, and the golden locket- at his baby picutre smiling back at him.