��� Blaine was glad he was the first one out of class. Glad he was the first one through the halls. Glad he didn’t need anything out of his locker for this coming weekend. Glad he had taken up sprinting. But most of all, glad he beat Kurt to his truck before he would have to face him. Somehow, Blaine managed to navigate his way out of the McKinley high school parking lot before most of the students even made their way out of the building and he knew that he would be locked safely in his own room before Kurt even realized he had already left. He knew his behavior was strange. Nothing had happened with Kurt, and he loved that boy more than anything in the world. But he was not about to let his boyfriend see him like this, even though he knew this was when he needed him the most.

��� Luckily, the Anderson household was empty for the week, as usual. Blaine’s parents were never home, but that was the way he preferred it. Even though he knew no one was home, he found himself climbing the staircase and hiding out in the confines of his bedroom, closing the door behind him and collapsing onto his bed, letting the tears flow freely now. He was aware of the fact that his phone had fallen out of his pocket and onto the floor, inches away from his bed, but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t intending to answer it today anyway. Now he was crying hard, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching, his head throbbing, his heart racing, he hadn’t cried like this in a long time. But then again, he wasn’t crying for just one reason this time. All the reasons had blurred together and he just knew he was crying.

From the foot of the bed, he heard his phone buzz. �Guilt suddenly hit him from not telling Kurt where he was going or why he’d completely avoided him after class. �He knew he had to do it, so he swallowed hard, picking up the phone, feeling the cool metallic surface on his palm.

�

“Hello?” He tried to hide the quite obvious fact that he had been sobbing for the last half-hour.

�

“Blaine?”

�

“Uh, yeah...” He couldn’t help but notice the angry tone in his voice, noting to himself that answering the phone was probably not his brightest idea ever, but his head was pounding no so he wasn’t exactly thinking crystal clear.

�

“Where’d you go today? I tried to find you after Finding your Future or whatever that class is called was over, and you totally disappeared.” Blaine swallowed hard again, knowing Kurt heard it. He had to even his breathing out, but it wasn’t working so far. “Blaine. Talk to me. Are you okay? Please. Just say something.” Blaine took a deep breath, a welcome difference from the shallow breaths that he had been taking. He didn’t know what to say. He was so scared to tell Kurt what was going on. Scratch that, he was terrified. At this point, he had quite honestly considered hanging up. But then he knew Kurt would just show up at his front door instead. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue couldn’t find the words, though he knew they were right there. But he couldn’t break now, he just couldn’t. He had to be the strong one, for Kurt’s sake.

�

“I... I don’t... I don’t know, Kurt.” He finally managed to stutter out, his voice barely tracing above a whisper. He couldn’t make himself tell Kurt his past. Or these thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking. And he knew that. He knew what he was thinking wasn’t right, but he just couldn’t stop. Hazel eyes flick over to his desk. Over the scissors. The safety pins. He closed his eyes. Stop it, Anderson. He willed himself to press the thoughts out of his head.

�

“Blaine. Do you need me to come over?”

�

“No.” Blaine answered, realizing he probably said it all too certainly and Kurt would almost definitely show up now.

�

“Blaine, I’m coming over. You need help.”

�

“Kurt. Just leave it, okay?” There was silence on the other end of the line and guilt hit him straight in the gut the second the sentence ended. “Kurt, I’m sorry, I’m just...” he tried to come up with a convincing lie. He wasn’t about to tell Kurt what was actually thinking. “I’m scared, okay.” Wait, what? Those weren’t the words he wanted to come out of his mouth.

�

“Blaine... Why are you scared...? I don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re thinking, but don’t do anything until I get there. Stay where you are, and don’t move.” Blaine nodded, and then realized that Kurt couldn’t see him. It was obvious to him that Kurt was more serious than Blaine had ever heard him.

�

“...alright.” he whispered into the phone, not quite sure why he was whispering other than the fact that his voice just wouldn’t come out louder.

�

“Promise me, Blaine.”

�

“I promise.” He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears back into his head as he heard the call go dead. Kurt’s house was, unfortunately, no more than 10 minutes away from Blaine’s. Thoughts flew through his head. What was he even going to tell Kurt? He wasn’t about to tell him that all the years of being told he’d never amount to anything, were finally starting to get to him. All the years of thinking he had no idea what the hell he was going to do with his life, had finally occurred to him that it was the truth and he really did have no clue what the hell he was going to do. The years he had spent wishing he didn’t exist, the feelings he thought he had finally gotten over, they were coming back. He couldn’t tell Kurt that. He couldn’t tell him that he couldn’t look at sharp objects anymore without those thoughts creeping back. Nor could he ever tell him that he just didn’t feel like he was good enough anymore. The list of things he couldn’t say just kept growing longer until he heard the knock at the door.

�

“It’s open.” He called out, and minutes later he found Kurt standing in the doorway of his room, Kurt’s eyes immediately looking down to the misplaced scissors on Blaine’s desk that he had taken out and held to his wrist, but couldn’t make himself move. Then he saw Kurt’s eyes move to what was easily his most regrettable action of the day, the belt hanging from the light at the top of his closet, and the stool beneath it. He was crying now, and Kurt’s eyes had filled with tears now as well.

�

“Blaine...” Kurt’s eyes had now finally drifted over to him, curled up into a ball in the corner of his room, knees pressed to his chest, arms around his legs. His head had risen from being buried in his knees and he was now looking into his boyfriend’s eyes, filled with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me..?” Blaine couldn’t force his voice out of his throat. The world was beginning to spin and he felt sick to his stomach. He felt a sudden weight on the other end of the bed, slowly inching closer and soon he felt the heat of his boyfriend beside him, his arms gently wrapping around him. He could tell Kurt was crying. He could feel the wetness coming from Kurt's face, now buried into his neck. "Blaine Anderson, do you have any idea how much you truly mean to me? You don’t, do you?” Kurt’s face was now directly in front of his, staring into his eyes, and Blaine was forced to stare back, tears flowing from both of their eyes. Kurt dropped the volume of his voice again, “Blaine, can I see your arms?” Blaine obliged, holding his arms out to Kurt. Now both boys were sitting cross-legged on the his bed, knees touching as they faced each other. The younger, but taller of the two was holding his arms, tenderly wrapping his porcelain-skinned hands just above the wrists as he turned his arms over gently, inspecting the soft skin on the inside of his forearms. �Kurt nodded, obviously approving as he let one of Blaine’s arms drop back down onto his lap, but still held one of them, now with both hands, as he kissed every last scar from his wrist to his elbow. “Blaine, I love you, so much. I wish I knew that you felt like this earlier. Please... tell me what’s wrong.” Blaine nodded as he began to speak, his voice shaking.

�

“Alright... I guess since you already know about all,” He gestured to the belt and the scars on his arms, “this... I might as well just tell you. Kurt, I’m scared. I don’t know what to do anymore. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I’ve gotten really good at faking it. But I’ve also gotten really good at playing ‘okay’. And Kurt, I’m not okay anymore. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve done this before. Nights like this have happened before. I thought I had finally recovered. I thought that just maybe I was finally going to be okay. But then today, and this is going to sound really pathetic, I was sitting in that class and they kept telling us that if we didn’t know what we wanted to do for the rest of our lives and where we wanted to go to college, we were going to fail in the real world. We wouldn’t amount to anything. Ever. Kurt, I’m a sophomore. I don’t want to plan that far ahead yet. Why do I even need to? Obviously, I’m not going to ever be anything anyway. Hearing that again today, it took me back those days, the days I don’t want to remember, but I do. The taunts, the insults. The tears, the scars, the thoughts... Then I’m walking out of class, and I see the jocks, and they give me these looks. And there’s a locker slamming behind me, and I just... I ran. I freaked. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry; I should've said something to you... I just, I couldn't. Kurt, I love you. But I feel like I need to be strong, for you. You're so much stronger than I am. Hell, I had one bad day and I was ready to kill myself. Actually, more minutes from it. Then you called." He watched as Kurt connected what he had just heard to his brain and tears welled back up into his eyes. "Kurt, I'm suicidal. I'm a self-harmer. I don't know who I am or who I want to be. Honestly, I really just feel like I'm just this kid who got lucky and just happened to be born with this talent. This talent that apparently, people like. And in return, people like me. But I don’t, Kurt. I don’t like me and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore or where I’m going and I know you’re here, but I just feel so alone and everything hurts, but at the same time, everything is so numb and I don’t even know anymore.” He curled back into a ball again, pulling his knees back up as he buried his face into his arms, his chest heaving with every sob that escaped. Soon, he felt Kurt’s arms wrapping around him, lifting him up, and pulling him so he was sitting sideways in his lap, legs crossed the opposite direction as Kurt’s and he found the soft skin of Kurt’s fingers underneath his chin, pulling their faces closer.

�

“Blaine... You don’t have to be strong for me. Ever. You’re not superman. Every now and then, you get vulnerable. And that’s okay. Vulnerable is cool. It’s human. It’s inspiring. And you need to listen to me. You need to throw out all these things that you tell yourself you are. You are your own worst enemy. Right now, you need to stop thinking and breathe. Take a deep breath. Now another.” He took Blaine’s hand and put it across his chest, holding it there. “Feel that? That’s called purpose. You’re alive for a reason, and I’m not letting you give up. Can I read you something? I think you’ll like it. It’s about what appears to be your favorite word. Someone I care about very much sent it to me,” He gave Blaine a knowing look, “when I was having trouble. And I think they need to hear it again.” He pulled out his iPhone, scrolling through his photos for the particular one he needed. “Aha! Okay, here ya go. ‘Courage is not just throwing yourself in front of the bullet, over the bomb. There’s so much more to it than that. Courage is taking the first step. Courage is talking to the outcast. Courage is telling someone your darkest fears, your most impossible dreams. Courage is wearing your heart on your sleeve. Courage is being able to walk outside with your scars showing. Courage is living your dreams. Courage is saying no, or saying yes. Courage is walking away or chasing after. Courage is making a decision. Courage is not being afraid of what people think. Courage is not being afraid to take a risk. Courage is being yourself. Courage is love, and courage is fear. Courage doesn’t mean not being afraid-- It’s about being terrified out of your skull but doing it anyway. Courage means taking a stand. Courage means standing up for what you believe in, even if your knees shake. Courage is breathing. Courage is loving. Courage is living.’ Blaine, you are one of the most courageous people I have ever met. You picked up the phone when I called you. You let me in. You didn’t hide the scars when I asked. I didn’t make you tell me your story; you did all that on your own. All of that takes courage, Blaine. Your past is gone, don’t dwell on it. You have every right to move on, every right to get better. And it’s going to be hard. But I know you can do it. I believe in you. And I promise you, I will be here, the whole time, every step of the way. You slip; I’ll be here to catch you. You’re my best friend, Blaine Anderson, and I love you.” Kurt ended his speech by gently placing their lips together for no more than a second. The pair shared a tearful moment before Blaine stood up and walked over to the other side of the room, picking up an over-turned piece of paper.

�

“You gave this to me, not too long after I confronted Karofsky with you. I guess you must’ve known something even I didn’t know then.” Blaine chuckled quietly, handing Kurt the paper. The paper had torn edges, and creases from what looked like a lot of folding and unfolding. Tear stains left marks on the otherwise clean paper and the ink had spread a little where the tears had dropped on them. The side edges were more worn than the top edges, obviously from the edges being rubbed as the paper was being read. The quote was written out in Kurt’s handwriting in red ink, with doodles coating the rest of the paper in black ink. Kurt sighed as he read the quote to himself, and then read it out loud.

�

“From a young age, we were taught to lock the doors to keep the bad guys out... what we weren’t taught, was the fact that the baddest things, people, and thoughts were a lot closer than we thought. They were actually inside of us. So, whatever you’re battling right now, whatever fight that you’re fighting, whatever you’re struggling with... it’ll get better. one day, you’ll rid yourself of these demons. One day, you’ll get to show the world who you truly are, without all those bad things holding you down. One day, you’ll be able to be whatever you want to be. You just have to fight for it. Fight like you’ve never fought before because this is your life. And you have every right to a beautiful life.”

�

“See? You knew I wasn’t okay before I did.” Blaine smiled, his eyes watery. “I’ve read that 7 times, just today. For the last 2 weeks, I’ve been fighting with myself, and that note has been in my pocket, saving me from myself. And I just want to thank you Kurt, for everything. For being here for me, for genuinely caring, for just being the generally amazing person you are. I really look up to you. You’re beyond strong. It’s inspiring. I love you so much. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” The pair was now both smiling and the tears had begun to fade away as Blaine crawled back up onto his bed and into his best friend’s open arms. And they laid like this for the rest of the afternoon and all through the night. Both with one of their hands on the other’s chest.

�

"Feeling better?" Kurt asked, his voice still drenched in concern.

�

"A little," Blaine yawned, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist, squeezing tighter as the yawn swept over him. "But can we just lie like this anyway...?" Blaine asked nervously. He and Kurt had never actually fallen asleep cuddling, nor had they ever quite cuddled like this. There was no space between the two of them, and he was sitting on the other boy's lap. They were tucked together tighter than even imaginable.

�

"But what about your pa–"

�

"Gone. For the week. I'm alone this weekend, and I really don't want to be alone...." His eyes grazed around the room at the aftermath of the early afternoon. He felt Kurt wrap his arms around him tighter, pulling him in even closer.

"Of course we can."