Part 2

Kurt and Blaine fall into a routine of sorts, meeting every Saturday at the rink and every Wednesday at the Lima Bean. After the first few weeks, they begin to add other outings. One weekend, Blaine gets them tickets for RENT. Another weekend, Kurt picks Blaine up at Dalton and they go to Columbus for a Kurt-style shopping spree, which turns out to be an adventure Blaine could never have predicted or prepared himself for.

A few weeks after their first meeting, Blaine lets Kurt know that Thad's parents have agreed to let them and Thad have the ice for an hour after the scheduled public session.

It is the first time Blaine truly gets to watch Kurt skate and all he can feel is excitement. After the public session, he walks around the rink to the hockey players' bench on the other side of the ice. He can hear and see everything from there.

Kurt warms up with a cross-over sequence that spans the entire length of the ice. He moves fast and graceful, extended from head to toe. Thad, wearing his figure skates rather than his hockey skates, follows behind. He's powerful, but less graceful. His movements are sharp. They do the warm-up twice before stopping on the side of the ice Blaine is closest to.

"So Blaine tells me you've been wanting to have a go at your axel," Thad says, impressed because he likes to keep his feet on the ground. He'd tried a waltz jump in his figure skates only once before deciding that hockey was his sport.

"Oh! But it's not nearly ready for the ice yet," Kurt says, his voice rising in his nervousness and the pressure of expectation.

"Well, there's always the harness." And Thad says this with such a twinkle in his eye that Kurt knows this must've been the point of this all along. It explains why Thad is here with them and wearing his figure skates for once. Kurt skates over to Blaine who is beaming at him.

Blaine stands to meet him.

"Thank you," Kurt says. Hesitantly, Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's neck in a distanced hug. They can't get closer because the rink wall is between them.

"I wanted to do this for you," Blaine says, returning the embrace. On one of their coffee dates, Blaine had asked Kurt how he was liking Dublin, and Kurt had mentioned the harness with such admiration and longing. Blaine couldn't get the way Kurt's eyes had faded into green out of his mind, and he knew that it was something he could make happen.

"It was very thoughtful."

Kurt giggles when, after Thad secure him in the harness, he pulls on rope to lift Kurt before he had prepared himself to try jumping. Kurt fools around with his seeming weightlessness, skating a few strokes before jumping up – he can feel Thad's tug on the rope to keep him suspended in the air – and contorting his body into a martial arts kick with a guttural "Haa" as he crosses the width of the rink.

It's so ridiculous, but so worth it just to see Blaine holding his ribs with his laughter.

For the next hour, Kurt feels Blaine watching him fly.

Kurt wasn't supposed to find the scar. No one was.

They are in Kurt's bedroom when it happens. Blaine had agreed to let Kurt give him a make-over when they have their first sleep-over, thinking it couldn't hurt to learn proper skin care. What he hadn't realized was that Kurt also intended to show Blaine just how little gel he needed to get his curls under control.

Blaine showers in the evenings, so when they arrive at Kurt's house later Saturday and Kurt immediately ushers him into his private shower, Blaine thinks it has something to do with having to be clean before using products on his skin.

He forgets that you can wash your face without actually showering, but Blaine sometimes does silly things like that. He's too caught up in the fact that he's using Kurt's soap to pay attention to actual thought processes.

Kurt has left him a fluffy white towel, and that too smells like Kurt, from whatever he uses for his laundry detergent. Thank God Kurt can't see me sniffing his towels like a creeper, Blaine thinks.

He changes into pajamas, his silk ones because he wants to look nice for Kurt even though they are just going to make him over and watch The Sound of Music.

When Blaine enter Kurt's room again, it is clear that Kurt had been waiting patiently for him. He is sitting on his bed with his legs crossed, his computer resting in his lap. Kurt looks up when he hears the door and places his laptop the side. He approaches Blaine and twirls one of his wet curls with his finger. The action feels so intimate that Blaine can feel himself flushing where Kurt's finger had grazed his cheek.

"Right. We need to let this dry a little." As Kurt speaks, he runs his hand through Blaine's hair, letting the strands slide between his fingers. "And then we can-"

Kurt stops abruptly, his fingertips ghosting along the raised skin above Blaine's left ear. Blaine tenses at the sensation and freezes. After a few moments, he shuts his eyes at the pressure building behind them.

"Blaine…I…uh." Kurt feels the words tumble out of his mouth, but he's not sure what they are because he doesn't know what he was trying to say. What can he say?

"You made me forget," Blaine finally says as he drops into the chair at Kurt's vanity. "And now you know."

Blaine hangs his head, and he looks so weary from speaking that Kurt kneels in front of Blaine, places his hands on his knees, and tells him to look into his eyes.

"Listen to me, Blaine. I only know what you want me to know." And it's true because all Kurt knows is that Blaine has a scar above his ear, one that hurts him to remember.

Now that he knows it's there, Kurt can clearly see the raised skin even though Blaine's hair has grown out around it. Suddenly, Kurt understands why Blaine plasters his hair to his head. He isn't doing a poor job giving his hair structure, he's making the choice to keep it down. He doesn't want volume, he wants coverage. So he can hide the scar.

Kurt's plans for the evening dramatically shift.

"But I'm here when you're ready," Kurt finishes heavily. "And it's not going to change this." He glances down to where their hands have found each other.

They're not sure yet what this is, but it feels good to have out in the open.

Not even the over-exaggerated Valentine's Day decorations are enough to ruin Blaine's mood because he has a date for the Sadie Hawkins Dance next Friday! He wasn't quite sure how Sadie Hawkins was supposed to work for same sex couples – and the whole thing seemed to encourage gender role stereotypes anyway, in Blaine's opinion. Because seriously? True equality should be seamless, while this is just saying: Yeah sure, you can ask a guy out, ladies. Here's your day to do it. We'll celebrate it as a move towards equality and then when the dance is done, everything can go back to normal.

What Blaine can appreciate, though, is that the dance encourages them to lay everything on the line, shake up the path you're on just a little bit for the possibility of something beautiful happening. Something new and exciting.

So Blaine had squared his shoulders and brought a single yellow rose to school and asked Collin to the dance. Collin was the heartthrob of Westerville High's drama program. He was the star of the music department. He was a Junior to Blaine's Sophomore, and he'd said yes.

Blaine asked him in the emptiness of the music room, where their Orchestra class takes place every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Blaine is their pianist. Collin is their shining first violin.

The week before the dance progresses slowly. Blaine almost wishes he had a paper or exam to keep his mind occupied, but it seems his teachers have decided to let them off easy. Instead, Blaine can't stop thinking of the dance, also known as his date with Collin. Traditionally, Sadie Hawkins Dances are supposed to be casual, but Blaine obsesses over what shirt he's going to wear and what bow tie will add the proper accent he needs for his outfit.

The day of the dance he wonders if Collin put as much thought into what he was wearing. He arrives at the Anderson household dressed in nice khakis and a blue and green striped shirt. The hint of eyeliner brings out his blue eyes, and Blaine knows that that is definitely something new.

They look good together and Collin is the perfect gentleman the entire night.

Blaine won't remember it though.

What he will remember is the scent of blood, the throbbing of his fingers, the sharp pain he felt every time he breathed. He'll remember Collin calling for help, and he'll remember thinking that he was going to die there as a bunch of jocks descended on him. He will remember knowing true fear.

And he'll then know nothing for a while.

"They swung a baseball bat at my head," he tells Kurt one afternoon. The Lima Bean is crowded on their usual Wednesday coffee…thing. Not-date. Because they aren't dating.

But Kurt and Blaine are sitting in a corner of the caf� that feels private, as it would need to be for the conversation they are having.

"I was in a coma for three months and had emergency surgery twice. I woke up not knowing what happened or where I was. I didn't know my name. I wanted to ask but I didn't remember how to speak and no one was there to hear me. And I couldn't move because my body felt like lead.

"Everything was white until a doctor came in. He was wearing a blue face mask. He was trying to ask me questions, but I couldn't hear him. I was so tired of trying to make sense of things that I fell back to sleep. When I woke again, I could hear and they told me everything."

Kurt wants Blaine to stop. The explanation is so mechanical, and his eyes have never looked so glazed or haunted. Blaine's entire body is shaking so hard. Too hard. The table is rattling from the tremors in his arms and legs. But Blaine is still speaking, apparently powering through because he only wants to have to do it once, so Kurt listens.

Blaine tells him how one of the jocks stepped on his hand and broke three of his fingers. He mentions the three broken ribs the doctors told him he had. He explains that his bones had healed before his brain had, and says that it was weird to not remember the healing process at all. They were broken, and then they weren't.

Blaine tells him the story of the first time he played the piano after the attack - how his fingers wouldn't cooperate with him at the time and he didn't know why until he remembered the sound of them crunching under tennis shoes. He laments the fact that his playing will never be the same, and at that Kurt wants to know what the hell he is talking about. Umm…hello…"Teenage Dream." But he holds his tongue as Blaine continues speaking.

Kurt hears about Blaine's therapy – the physical kind, which just ended, and the one he sees his counselor for every other Tuesday. Blaine tells him that he transferred to Dalton just this year and that the rigorous curriculum there, along with his absence from the spring semester at Westerville High, is the reason for his current sophomore status. He explains that he has no idea what happened to Collin, but that he knows he lived.

"Blaine, I-" The clouds in Blaine's eyes quickly dissipate, as if he'd forgotten that he was speaking to Kurt at all and just hearing his voice was enough to jolt him back into the Lima Bean.

He thinks he's such an idiot. Now Kurt knows how broken he is, and what kind of person wants to -

"Would you look at me, honey?"

Exhausted and resigned, Blaine lifts his gaze from the coffee table. Oh. Oh! Kurt is crying.

"I am so glad you're here," Kurt says, because thinking about Blaine lying unconscious in a hospital bed, small and alone with wires going every which way is the worst thing in the world. He doesn't want to think about what could've been, a life where he and Blaine never met because Blaine either died or never came out of his coma, but he can't help that his brain goes hyperactive.

They throw out their coffee cups, and Kurt drives them to his house where they watch 10 Things I Hate About You. Blaine is still too shaken to be all right, but Kurt holds him in his arms and kisses his temple, at the base of his scar, and that can't be nothing. Blaine occasionally buries his face in Kurt's shirt, where he feels safe, to make the memories stop.

Blaine doesn't know why this beautiful person came into his life, but here, for the first time, Blaine thinks, I'm glad I'm here too.

The next Saturday, Thad's parents have once again given them some ice time after the public session, only half an hour this time because there's going to be a hockey game.

Blaine had asked Thad prior if he and Kurt could be alone for part of the time, and Thad assured him that it would be fine. He needs to prepare for the game anyway.

"Have you ever been on the ice all by yourself, Kurt? With no one to watch out for?" It's something Blaine imagines all the time. In his dreams, Kurt is in the spotlight, graceful and lovely, as he skates the performance of a lifetime. Blaine's heart stops beating each time Kurt jumps, but his spins are flawless so he doesn't worry. He lands his axel in the finale of the performance. Flowers are thrown all around him as he finishes, breathing heavily. He waves to an audience of blank faces, and skates over to Blaine, leaning in…

At that point, Blaine usually wakes up. He's curious. He wants to see Kurt skate. Really skate. So he asks.

Blaine sits in the stands this time. While Kurt digs through his skate bag in the lobby for a cassette tape that he just happens to carry around with him, Blaine thinks about the way Kurt had bitten his lip before answering him. Not because it had drawn attention to Kurt's lips. Certainly not.

Kurt had hesitated, and, for some reason, that scares Blaine.

It's some time before Kurt returns. He is wearing a black top where before there had been a red one and explains that he always keeps a change of clothes in the back of his car. Blaine doesn't think he's ever seen Kurt wear a monochrome outfit before.

He hands the cassette tape to Blaine, and for a moment Blaine gets lost in the blue of his eyes. Up close, Blaine can see the sparkle of glitter Kurt has added to his cheekbones.

"It's the best I could do on short notice," Kurt says, flushing.

"You look beautiful, Kurt." Blaine grips his thighs tightly to keep himself from tracing the constellations on Kurt's cheek.

"O –okay, so this something I put together for my mom. I choreographed it here and there as I grew older. It's been up here," he points to his head "most of my life. And seeing as how I don't compete, there's never been a reason to – to do it. So, this will be a first."

"In that case, I'm honored you're sharing it with me."

"It might not be that good, you know."

"Just get out there, Kurt."

"Yeah. Okay."

Blaine goes into the sound booth with the tape, gets it ready, and runs back to his spot in the stands just as "Blackbird" begins to play.

Kurt begins standing with his arms draped around his torso at the edge of the rink. He uncurls himself, skating backwards as he circles away from his start, his arms extending out. He steps forward only when the lyrics begin and he lifts his left leg behind him in an arabesque that should be too high for him to reach. He then changes edges mid-spiral.

Blaine has seen a lot of skating in his life, more since he began working here. He knows that competitive skaters have to include required moves in their programs. He also knows that their coaches are usually the ones choreographing.

Everything about this feels different. He's not the fastest skater in the world, but Kurt's choreography is not like that of any of the coaches that teach at Dublin, like the point is the fluidity of the movements, rather than the execution of the moves.

His jumps are sparse, but placed well with the music. He is able to jump high, and his landings are clean with extension seeming so natural in his locked joints. There are only two spins in the program, a sit spin and a regular forward spin.

But while Kurt is amazing to watch technically, Blaine recognizes this performance as art with years of pain carved into it.

As a musician, Blaine appreciates the simplicity of "Blackbird" against the elegance of Kurt's skating. He interprets the music with his arm movements, never being so obvious as to flap his arms like wings. Instead, he reaches up towards something unreachable and tries to grasp at something left behind. His arms always feel in conflict with whichever way his body moves.

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

Watching Kurt like this, so exposed in a way Blaine never thought possible, feels a lot like watching Kurt pull his heart out of his chest to present it to him on a silver platter as his last act before collapsing to the dirt. And that's the way the program seems to end as the notes fade away. Kurt presses a fist against his heart and falls to the ice, curling into the fetal position. His black clothes starkly contrasting to the white that surrounds him.

Blaine sees the shake of Kurt's shoulders before he hears his cries. "Blaine," he hears in between sobs. "Blaine, please."

Blaine wants to go running to him, but the ice is slick, too slick for him. "Kurt! You need to come out here," Blaine says from where he stands at the edge of the open rink door. "Can you do that, love? Can you come over here to me?"

Kurt gets up and skates shakily into Blaine's waiting arms, where they both fall to the dirty floor. Kurt fists at Blaine shirt. "It hurts," he whimpers into it, sobs turning to sniffles.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I never meant for this to-"

"No!" Kurt shouts. Then softer, "No. It's okay. I just miss her. It was her favorite song, you know – 'Blackbird.' She'd sing it to me every night."

Blaine nods, but doesn't speak. He can't.

"And I really need her right now," Kurt continues, falling back into hysterical sobs as he explains everything he'd been going through with the hockey team, the football team, and the Karofsky kid. It infuriates Blaine that anyone could hurt Kurt so cruelly.

When the Dublin hockey team arrives for their game, the boys pack up their stuff and sit in Blaine's car. Kurt rocks in the seat, but Blaine is there to steady him.

All this time, he thinks. We weren't so different at all.

"You work at a skating rink, but I've never seen you skate," Kurt says. It's Wednesday and Blaine now knows that this isn't the first outfit Kurt has worn today, the first probably sitting in a plastic bag, soaked with Slushee. He also knows about the hidden purple bruises across Kurt's shoulders and down his back.

"I can't," Blaine says, sipping at his coffee.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"I'm not good enough."

"So…"

"So… I'll fall."

"Everyone falls, Blaine."

"But I'm not allowed to. Kurt, I can't hit my head again. If I do, I could end up back in the hospital. I just can't."

"Okay. But can I ask you one more thing?" Kurt says. Blaine nods, so Blaine continues. "If you weren't scared, would you want to skate?"

"Yes," he whispers. "I'd want to do everything with you."

"Okay. Then I'll make it happen."

The ice is particularly packed that Saturday. Kurt has to wait in line to pay for the private session. He waves to Thad who's making a sale in the store, but Blaine is already in the sound booth by the time he is ready to skate.

He doesn't see Blaine until Zamboni time. Like always, Blaine is running through his scales when Kurt finds a seat. Though the novelty of listening to Blaine's music will never wear off, especially now that Kurt knows how close it was to being silenced, he chooses to return to the ice after listening for only about half-an-hour.

Kurt loves the way the ice looks and feels after the Zamboni cleans it. With every scar erased and all the snow pushed away, the ice waits to be engraved anew. While it looks scarier, shining with a layer of water on top, it's actually easier to skate on.

Kurt has plans for that afternoon. At the end of the session, Kurt doesn't remove his skates. He can feel a blister forming, but he puts on his guards to protect his skate blades and walks into the lobby just as Blaine is packing up his few sheets of music, which can easily be enclosed in a single folder because he mostly memorizes his performance pieces.

"Kurt! Hey. Come sit with me." Kurt joins him at the piano, sitting on the edge of the bench. He plays a simple chord, leading into the lower part of "Heart and Soul." As his fingers pick up the rhythm, Blaine joins in with the melody, adding his own flourishes to the tune.

"How was your turn out today?" Kurt asks, making sure to maintain the tempo.

"Pretty good actually," Blaine replies. "Severely lacking in best friends, but…"

"Keep playing," Kurt says, his fingers moving on muscle memory, as he picks up the lyrics.

Heart and soul, I fell in love with you,
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,
Madly...
Because you held me tight,
And stole a kiss in the night...

Blaine harmonizes in the second stanza. By the time they finish the song, they've drawn a crowd around the piano yet again. Kurt blushes at the applause. It's been a long time since so much positive attention has been on him.

The crowd disperses after Blaine announces the end of his set – for real this time.

"I didn't know you played," Blaine says.

"I'm full of hidden talents. But, yes, I took lessons until middle school."

"That was fun, though. We should do that more often." They stand up together, and Kurt is dramatically taller than Blaine since he has his skates on. "Why haven't you packed yet?" Blaine asks.

"Because we aren't done."

"What do you mean? Thad told me the ice time was booked for today."

"I know. I booked it. For us," Kurt says. Blaine's smile falters.

"But Kurt. You know what I said-"

"I know. I have everything figured out. Do you trust me?"

"Of course, Kurt. But I-"

"Come on."

Kurt leads him to the skate store. Thad is there, and when Kurt nods at him, he goes into the back to bring out a large, square box for Blaine. Blaine shakes the box, but it doesn't make noise enough for him to know what's inside. He pulls off the top.

Inside is a dark green helmet. Black rhinestones spell out his name on the side, and Blaine recognizes this as Kurt's handiwork.

Blaine laughs as he pulls it out of the box. Kurt winks at him. The answer seems so simple now. He's glad, though, that Kurt waited to do this until after the session. Blaine tries so hard not to let people see the pain behind his eyes. He would've been embarrassed to no end.

But right now, nothing sounds better right now than getting on the ice with Kurt.

Kurt places the helmet on his head and secures the clasp underneath his chin. He was right about the color; it really does bring out the specks of green in Blaine's eyes. As awkward as helmets look, Blaine is stunning. "There you are. Let's go get you some skates."

Thad follows them behind the counter, grabbing a pair of black figure skates in Blaine's size. "I'll be back in the store if you need me, guys. You have an hour until the hockey practice starts so use the time wisely."

"Thanks, Thad," Kurt replies. Thad places a hand on Blaine's shoulder as he heads back the way he came.

They pick a bench in the empty lobby where Kurt helps Blaine tie the skates, making sure they are tight enough around Blaine's ankles. Standing in skates is awkward for Blaine, and he shuffles his way to the rink, holding tightly onto Kurt's hand.

"I'm still scared," he admits.

"That's okay. We can use the wall until you feel more comfortable. And I'll be right here the entire time." Just in case, Kurt teaches Blaine how to fall safely if he can help it, landing on the outer sides of his legs.

"Yeah. Okay. I'm ready. And, Kurt, thank you."

"Come on, Yagudin. Let's go show them how it's done."

And although it takes Blaine most of the hour to feel comfortable enough to leave the wall, making the figure eight the most complex pattern they accomplish that afternoon, everything feels heightened on the ice alone with Kurt. And when Kurt leans in to press his lips to Blaine's, it feels like a promise of forever.

END