Author's Notes: They tried to bring me down
Had to swallow my pride
Nobody knew what I knew
I would survive

For every tear I cried
Every wish goes by
Every dream I kept inside

For every mile I walked
Every race I've lost
Every day that ran out of time

Like every song I've sung
Everyone I've known
Every night I've spent alone

Like every horizon
I keep on trying
Like the sun I'll be risin'

---

"Coffee?"

Blaine dropped his hands from his face to accept the paper cup from Dave. "Thanks."

The cop sank down onto the chair next to Blaine's. Even though they were the only ones in the waiting room, Blaine still felt suffocated. The atmosphere of the room pressed down heavily on his chest; the harsh white light pained his eyes; and to top it off, the incessant ticking of the wall clock and low buzzing of the vending machine taunted his ears.

What a fucking joke.

Why would anyone want to put people into the most depressing room imaginable, while their loved ones were fighting for their lives? One of the worst moments in his life; and these cold, lifeless surroundings did nothing but suck the hope and energy even further out of him.

He shook his head and sighed. "Dammit, Kurt..."

His father had shot him. His father. His own blood had done this to Kurt. It was so fucked up.

"Any news?" Dave's soft voice broke his trance.

It took Blaine a few moments to gather his wits. "He's in surgery. He has a femoral fracture- his thigh bone has been shattered by the bullet. It's gonna be difficult to repair. Not to mention the possible nerve damage... I don't know. It's bad."

Kurt might be crippled for life and it's because of me. Because he loves me.

Because I made him love me. Because I wouldn't take no for an answer and kept pushing him to go out with me.

Fucking well done, Blaine. This one really takes the cake.

"I'm just so glad he's alive." Dave replied. "When I finally got inside, he was aiming for Kurt's head. It's just… I don't get it. Your dad was one insane guy."

Blaine leaned back with a bitter laugh. "That he was." He turned his gaze towards Dave. "Shouldn't you return to work? I mean, I appreciate you being here and all, but -"

"Nope". Dave shook his head. "Shooting incidents mean you're off duty until some stuff has been sorted out. It's standard procedure; probably won't take any longer than a day or so."

"Oh, didn't know that." Blaine admitted, his eyes drifting back to the wall clock.

Inside his mind, Blaine saw Kurt, lying motionless on the operating table; intubated, heart monitor steadily beeping, while green silhouettes tried to repair the damage to his body. He thought about how Kurt's mind had been entirely shut down by the anesthesia; about how he wasn't asleep or dreaming, but completely unaware of anything.

Someone had just hit the pause button on Kurt's existence, and for the very first time since their relationship had started, Blaine felt utterly alone.

---

Burt Hummel barged into the waiting room, wearing the same expression Blaine had seen one too many times during his career. The face of a parent fearing for their child's life; panicked, yet searching for any explanation, any scrap of information that could deny their worst nightmare come true.

"Blaine!" He gulped, trying to catch his breath. "What the hell happened to my boy?" He moved towards Blaine and grabbed his shoulders. "What's going on? For the love of God, please tell me he's going to be okay!"

Blaine nodded quickly and placed his hands on Burt's shoulders in return. "It's okay, it's okay! Kurt is going to be okay. It's- it's his leg. He's not in any danger, I promise. He's hurt, but he isn't- he's not- They are doing their best to fix his leg." He rambled hopelessly.

Burt closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. "Thank God." Then his gaze landed on Dave Karofsky. "What- what are YOU doing here?"

Dave shrank back. "I'm... I arrived at Kurt's place when-"

"He saved Kurt's life, Burt." Blaine chimed in. "He broke down the apartment door and-"

"And, and what?" Burt frowned.

"I shot down Kurt's attacker." Dave said softly.

Burt released Blaine's shoulders and turned to Dave. "Attacker? But... who? Who did this? Why?"

Dave bit his lip and took a deep breath, before looking at Blaine in silent question.

"My father." Blaine spat out shakily, before bursting out into anguished sobs. "It- it was him. He had a gun. He tried to- to kill Kurt. Shot him in the leg. I'm so sorry..." He buried his face in his hands and finally allowed the tears to completely consume him.

Who was he kidding? It was his fault. Even if Kurt was going to forgive him for this; Burt sure as hell wouldn't. Blaine knew that. He was a father himself. He would never forgive anyone for hurting his daughter.

Burt kept silent for what seemed like hours.

At last, he grunted. "Where is he? Where is your father?"

"He's dead." Dave answered.

Another silence.

"You… you saved my son." Burt whispered.

"I did my job."

"No." Burt said, almost in wonder. "You saved my son. That's- I have no words."

More silence.

Blaine couldn't move. The tears kept flowing into the palms of his hands, down his wrists.

"Listen, David, would you mind giving me and Blaine a few minutes, please?"

"Oh no, sure, I was about to head home anyway. I'll call to check up on Kurt later, if that's alright."

Burt answered with an approving grunt. Then there were footsteps and a door falling shut.

Blaine felt lost. Alone. Utterly alone. Floating through the air without direction, with nothing to ground him, nothing to hold onto, no one-

A hand touched Blaine's cheek. "Hey, look at me."

Blaine's heart stuttered. Slowly, he looked up; right into the eyes of Burt Hummel. They were wet with tears, but held no judgment; only warmth. Everything Blaine craved, but didn't deserve anymore. Not from Burt.

"Don't beat yourself up, kid. Kurt wouldn't want you to."

Burt sighed at the lack of response from Blaine.

"Look, you think I don't know what's going on in that head of yours? Think I haven't been there before? This is not. Your. Fault."

"It doesn't matter." Blaine whispered hoarsely. "I promised him I wasn't going to let anyone hurt him. I promised him he was safe with me. I-" He bit his trembling lip and shook his head.

Burt used his thumb to wipe away a fresh tear on Blaine's cheek. "You think Kurt is going to hold that against you? You think anyone else is going to?" He shrugged. "Those promises are noble and beautiful, Blaine, but they're also impossible. You can't protect a person against the rest of the world, no matter how hard you try."

Blaine inhaled deeply and sniffed back his tears. "I should have realized sooner how crazy my father was. I should have known Kurt was in danger."

Burt lowered his hand. "Yeah." He nodded. A tiny, bitter smile appeared. "That's exactly what I told myself after Kurt got attacked at school. I blamed myself for missing the signals. I blamed myself for making Kurt feel as if he had to protect me from his problems, instead of the other way around." He sank down on the chair next to Blaine's. "But the truth is, you're not to blame, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you are. Just... don't make the same mistake I did. Don't waste energy on these feelings of guilt or shame. Don't let that man take away any more than he already has. Let's concentrate on being there for Kurt, when he gets out of this surgery, okay?"

"Yeah... okay" Blaine answered, almost soundlessly.

"Oh, and one more thing," Burt muttered, while briefly squeezing Blaine's forearm, "don't you ever call that man your father again. You may have been his son, but he was not your father."

A weak nod was all Blaine could muster. He started crying again, this time with a strange mixture of hurt and relief.

---

The steady, rhythmic beeping was what pulled Kurt to the surface, out of the deep and empty darkness. He vaguely felt somebody wipe a wet, cold cloth over his back.

He was freezing. Why was he lying on his side?

He tried to whine, but his vocal chords tensed around a solid object, and immediately his body started to cough and choke.

"He's waking up." Somebody mumbled. With a swift pull, the tube was removed from his throat. Kurt's relief was short-lived, as he found himself struggling for his next breath. A heavy weight pressed down on his chest and he was just too tired to fight it.

Only seconds later, an oxygen mask was pushed over his face, and suddenly everything became easier and lighter again.

Forcing his eyelids open, Kurt saw flashes of green and silver. He saw white wall tiles, and a grey vinyl floor.

A masked face appeared.

Kurt tried to focus. He struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Mr. Hummel?" It was a chipper, female voice. "Surgery is finished. Everything went well."

Kurt blinked in reply. What? What did that even mean?

"Just go back to sleep for a little while longer, Mr. Hummel. We'll take care of you."

Kurt happily obeyed and dropped his eyes shut, slipping back into the blissful, pain-free darkness.

---

The door opened to reveal a man in green scrubs.

"Family of Kurt Hummel?"

Blaine and Burt nodded and straightened their backs; almost simultaneously. The surgeon dragged a chair in front of them and plopped down to straddle it. "I'm Dr. Clarington, orthopedic surgeon." He held out his hand and shook Burt's, then Blaine's. "The surgery went reasonably well. They're finishing up now, and then we'll move Mr. Hummel to the ICU for the night."

"What do you mean 'reasonably well'? Why does Kurt have to stay at the ICU?" Burt asked, shifting his eyes to Blaine, who had only nodded at the doctor's announcement.

Dr. Clarington started explaining. "The ICU is only a precaution. Look, I'm going to be honest. I've only ever seen such a messy wound after a car crash, and more often than not those patients ended up having an amputation."

Burt choked out a strangled "Oh my God!"

"Fortunately, I was able to put all the fragments of bone back together, and I fixated them with bolts and plates. With a bit of luck, they should knit together nicely."

Burt frowned. "Should?"

Dr. Clarington shrugged. "There's of course always a chance that the fracture doesn't heal, especially in cases like these. But again, only time will tell. I'm rather optimistic." He added with a reassuring smile.

Blaine finally spoke up. "What else is going on?"

The surgeon raised his eyebrows and turned towards him.

"My son's fianc� is a doctor; you can tell him." Burt insisted.

Dr. Clarington hummed in understanding. "Well... we've done our best to repair the nerve damage, but, let's just say that Kurt is facing a long recovery period. He'll need extensive physical therapy, maybe even more surgery, and even then, it's nearly certain that he won't regain full use of his leg. It'll remain a weak spot at the very best."

Blaine let out a bitter chuckle and muttered a few curses. "I knew it... I fucking knew it." Every piece of information made him break just a little bit more.

"The neurosurgeon will be coming over to talk to you sometime tomorrow morning." Dr. Clarington offered.

Burt nodded morosely. "Good. Now, can I finally see my son, Doctor?"

"I'll call the ICU to inform them that you're heading up. You can go to their waiting room and they'll come and get you as soon as Kurt is settled in his room." The doctor said as he stood up and offered his hand to Burt and Blaine again. "I'll be checking up on Kurt later this evening, and every day after, so we'll definitely be seeing each other again." He smiled. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him."

Burt nodded in return. "Thanks, doctor."

---

"Too bad we don't get to spend a little more time together, slut. I would have loved to wreck you..." His finger moved towards the trigger. Kurt inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow that would end everything.

And then so many things happened at once, and it was horrible, and... he didn't die.

He didn't die.

Dave touched his cheek and he was still alive.

And then he passed out for a moment and then Blaine was there and he was still alive.

A jolt shivered through Kurt's body as he snapped his eyes open.

He was in a hospital room. A stream of oxygen steadily flowed through his nostrils. It was an annoying feeling. He ached to pull the tube from his nose, but found his arm too heavy to lift.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes again, trying repeatedly to swallow down the acrid taste on his tongue .

He wanted his mom and dad.

Blaine... He wanted Blaine too.

A low buzz confused him for a moment, until the cuff around his biceps tightened gradually, almost painfully, before letting go with a hiss. A discrete alarm started dinging, and only seconds later a nurse entered the room.

She made a beeline for the machine and silenced it with a swift push on one of the buttons. Then she gazed down Kurt and smiled. "Pressure is still a bit low there, Mr. Hummel. I'm Katy, by the way. I'll be taking care of you tonight."

Kurt nodded weakly. "Hi."

"How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?" She continued, as she took his chart and jotted down some stuff.

"Like I've been run over by a truck?" Kurt deadpanned. "Just, very sore."

Katy scrunched her face in sympathy. "If you're in too much pain, you have to let me know, okay? We can crank up the pain meds."

"Okay."

"You have some visitors outside. It's your father and your fianc�." Katy grinned. "Are you feeling up to it, sweetheart?"

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, please."

---

"Ouch... watch it, dad. You're gonna yank out my tubes." Kurt chuckled breathlessly.

"Sorry." Burt disentangled himself slowly from the embrace that he had thrown himself into the moment he had reached Kurt's bed. Ever since they'd told him about his son being shot, he'd been driven by basic instincts and fear. Now that he was finally reunited with Kurt; able to see and feel for himself that his kid was alive and conscious; now he could finally breathe again.

He brushed his thumb over Kurt's bruised cheek and blinked back a tear. "Does it hurt, kiddo?"

Kurt shook his head. "It's okay."

Burt nearly laughed. "You were never one to complain."

"I'm fine, dad, I swear." Kurt whispered with a frown. "Where- where is Blaine?"

"Oh, he's right outside in the hallway. He's on the phone with his mother..."

Kurt let out a small groan. Rebecca. He couldn't even imagine her reaction to everything that had happened.

His father couldn't hold back any longer. "I can't believe what happened to you, Kurt." He grimaced. "I can't believe this entire mess. Thank God that bastard is dead." He fumed.

Kurt heaved a sharp, deep breath and shook his head. "Dad, please, I don't want to talk about it. I can't. Not now."

Burt quickly hushed him. "Hey, that's okay. We'll talk later. Sure. Just, relax. Everything's going to be fine. I love you, Kurt, and I'm so glad you're alright."

A tiny smile wiped the tension from Kurt's face. "I love you too, dad."

---

Blaine came in a few minutes later, looking like a wreck. His eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, his hair was pure chaos, and his shirt was painted with streaks of dried blood. Kurt's blood.

"Blaine." Kurt breathed as his fianc� sank down on a stool next to his bed. Blaine grasped Kurt's hand and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. He parted his lips to speak, but only managed a broken sob. He lowered his head and tried to pull back.

"Oh honey, no." Kurt pleaded, as he brought his other hand up to clutch Blaine's arm. Burt dragged his chair closer to Blaine's and grabbed his shoulders in a comforting, sideways hug.

"My mom is going crazy. She says it's her fault; that she pushed him too far. Everything is so messed up, and, I'm so, so sorry, Kurt." Blaine said, in between choked sobs. "This should never have happened."

Kurt sighed. "It's nobody's fault. He did this, and I'm sorry too, but... we'll get through this, won't we?" It was a genuine, heartbreaking question that left Blaine no choice but to snap out of his own misery.

Kurt was the victim. Kurt needed him to be strong. Kurt needed his love and strength.

"Yeah." Blaine nodded. "We will. Of course we will. Of course."

Kurt lowered his gaze and stared at their intertwined hands. The monotonous flow of oxygen through his nose still bothered him to no end. He cleared his throat a few times before he spoke. "There's some stuff that you and your mom don't know. Things he said before he-" He frowned and closed his eyes. "I'm tired. I don't want to talk about all of that right now. Just tell her that she's not to blame."

"Okay." Blaine whispered, reaching out to caress the side of Kurt's face that hadn't been bruised. "Just go to sleep, love. The nightmare is over." He kissed Kurt's lips, sealing them with a promise. "I swear to God; this time nothing is going to stop us anymore. I'll do anything to make your dreams come true."

Kurt answered with a weak nod, eyes still closed.

"Love you, babe." Blaine pressed another kiss against Kurt's forehead and lingered for a moment, while drinking in the warmth and scent of Kurt's skin, as if it were some kind of balm to his wounded soul.

"I think we should go home and let him sleep." Burt decided. "He needs his rest, and so do we."

---

"You and Lily can stay in Kurt's room. That good for you?" Burt said, as he turned the car out of the parking lot.

"Sure. Thanks, Burt." Blaine murmured.

"Sure thing, kid. There's no way you should be by yourself tonight."

Blaine slumped against his seat and stared outside. "I just don't think I could go back to the apartment. It's probably still sealed by the police anyway."

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you need. And that cute little cupcake of yours too. Carole is so crazy about her. This morning they were making breakfast together, and Lily made a peanut butter chocolate sprinkle toast just for me. Her own invention, she said" Burt chuckled.

"Three years old and already a much better cook than her father." Blaine quipped, grateful for Burt's effort to alleviate some of the tension.

Unfortunately, reality took back over when Burt hesitantly suggested a visit to Blaine's mother: "I don't want to overstep, but if you'd like, we could stop by your mother's house first, maybe ask her if she wants to come stay at our place too? I've already texted Carole, she has made up Finn's bed just in case."

Blaine sighed deeply and shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. She doesn't want me to come over tonight. She told me she needs to be alone, plus she was going to call Jim for advice."

"Jim?"

"Jim's an old friend of hers; one of our family's attorneys. I guess now that my father is dead, there are a lot of things that need to be settled."

"Alright, no problem." Burt nodded, as he contemplated Rebecca Anderson's response to her son. That lady sure was something else.

After what seemed like hours, Burt parked on the driveway of his home and turned the engine off.

Neither man made a move to get out.

The silence was slowly growing awkward, until suddenly, Burt turned towards Blaine, who was staring intently at his lap, completely paralyzed and numb.

"Look, Blaine..." Burt sounded so small for such a big guy. "You just told my son you'd make his dreams come true."

Blaine rubbed the nape of his neck and nodded. He slowly lifted his eyes and found Burt giving him an odd, almost pleading look.

"The thing is, I know exactly what my son's dreams are. I know them better than he does himself."

Blaine frowned in confusion.

Burt continued. "The one thing Kurt has always wanted, always needed, always dreamed of, is a home. Simple as that, except life hasn't been kind on him in that matter." Burt admitted sadly. "He lost his mom when he was just this tiny little kid. There were many times when he believed he was losing me too, like when he came out to me, or when I started dating Carole, and of course when I had my heart attack. When he was sixteen, Kurt found Sam. It was as if he'd finally found his place in this world. Those two worked so hard to build their life together. But then Sam was ripped away from him, and it destroyed Kurt. You know, there were times when I thought we were going to lose him too."

"God." Blaine choked.

Burt swallowed back a tear and chuckled. "My Kurt. My sweet, lovely, precious boy. He's always been such a tough kid. A survivor. Life kept turning on a dime again and again, yet he survived. But it broke him; it broke him enough to stop trying to find his destiny." Burt shook his head. "You and Lily? You're everything to him. Ever since you got together, it's like he's relaxing into himself again. You're his entire world and you could be his home too. But it should be in a safe place... a place where you don't get attacked for who you are, where you don't just have to roll with the punches. Lima has never been a home to him."

Blaine nodded. "I understand that, but Lima is where his friends and family are."

"But it's not where his life is. You know that. He's so damn loyal to us. Always putting our needs over his. But when is it his turn, Blaine?"

"So... what should I do?"

"What you promised. Make his dreams come true."

Blaine gave him an incredulous look. "By leaving?"

"Please just get him out of this place. I don't care if you move to New York or London or the North Pole, as long as it's a place that's open-minded enough to accept and appreciate Kurt for the amazing man that he is. This town never deserved him. Look, I hate that I'm asking this. He's my son. I don't want him to leave. But I need him to be happy more than I need anything else, even if it means letting go of him."

Blaine kept silent for a minute, then sighed deeply. "Okay. But I need to talk it over with Kurt of course. I need to make absolutely sure this is what he wants. And also… I don't actually think the North Pole is an option." He smiled tentatively.

"You're probably right." Burt grinned. "Those caps and bonnets would ruin his hair."

---