Days pass. Sweeping moments between seconds. Filled with quiet whispers and loud silences.

Some days passed uneventful, Blaine sitting up with his family and loved ones. He never participated in the excited discussions of the new diamond mine that was destined to forever change the future of district 1. He was content to sit and just watch. Just bathe in the comfort of their presence, the feeling of home seeping out of every crack in the old cottage. Every scent, every touch, every grain of softened wood. Kurt would sneak a glance at him every so often. He caught every flash of pain that crossed his face at the movement of his still- raw muscles. He caught every semblance of discomfort and rushed to his aid or just lent quiet support with his eyes. Those were the good days. The days where Kurt thought everything might be able to return to normal. Blaine was quieter, still refusing to sing or make any sort of music, often lost in thought or trying to drown the thoughts out, but he was still Blaine. He was there. A small smile graced his face every so often, and he seemed almost happy. 

Those were the good days. 

But more often than the good there were the bad days. Days when Kurt would wake up to the wrench of the sheets as Blaine sat up in terror, eyes wide, chest heaving until Kurt pulled him down against the threadbare pillows, gentle hands caressing the heated skin. Nights where Blaine screamed as Kurt pleaded him to wake up, just wake up, and then cradled his head in his lap, carding slender fingers through sweaty curls. Other nights where Kurt would wake to a cold and empty bed, only a low light in the bathroom and the choked sounds of Blaine throwing up. Night were he pushed open the door to the bathroom and smoothed his hands in soothing circles around Blaine's back as he emptied stomach. Where Blaine would pull away, sweaty and shivering, looking down at his hands expecting to see the blood of the tributes he had killed, as Kurt rocked him tightly against his chest with whispers of "I'm here, you're safe." 

Sometimes Kurt was thankful that Blaine never spoke about what he had relived of the arena or what enemy or emotion had plagued his nightmare. He was thankful that Blaine never described how vivid the dreams were or what he remembered of them when he finally awoke. But mostly, Kurt just wanted to go into Blaine's mind and fight off what he found there, regardless of whoever or whatever it was. 

Soon, the good days began to outnumber the bad. There occasional nightmare, the occasional sleepless night. Kurt knew Blaine wasn't well, he wasn't okay, despite his constant mutters of "I'm fine." which seemed more as way to reassure himself than anyone else. Blaine was keeping everything locked away, compressing all the memories and remembered emotion of the arena in a little box that he buried deep inside himself. But the locks kept rattling, the hinges kept breaking, the lid flying open one moment and then slamming shut the next. 

"Kurt?" Mrs.Anderson awoke him from his silent reverie. "You look troubled."

"I'm fine" he replies, forcing a smile on his tired face. 

"Aren't you going to eat? Your food is going to get cold."

Kurt looks down at his half eaten plate. He is still unused to the idea that he can leave it. That he isn't hungry. That they now have the luxury of food after Blaine's triumph. 

"yeah sorry." He says, sliding some peas onto his spoon and slipping it into his mouth. Burt and Mr. Anderson are talking about the future of the District, of the academy they're thinking of setting up to train our tributes before they enter the arena. Trying to create a future where no child would be thrust into the arena as afraid and unprepared as Blaine was. 

The atmosphere seems so normal that Kurt almost laughs out loud. This moment of beautiful peace and normalcy is one he wants to cling to for as long as he possibly can.  

But it shatters in instant as terrorized shouts and sobs echo into the parlor from beyond Blaine's closed door. 

Mrs. Anderson covers her mouth with her pale hand, voice choked up, "I thought he was finally asleep..." 

Carole shushes her quietly, reassuring her with a sad expression on her face as Mr. Anderson looks at the door with a pained expression. Burt slams his fork down on the table, anger at how wrong this is. Anger at how obscenely wrong it is that this is happening to one of the bravest and sweetest boys he'd ever met. 

Kurt flies to his feet, rushing towards the door with a quiet, "I got it." 

His feet pad lightly against the creaky wooden floor and he throws the door behind him with a quiet crash as it shuts. Within moments Kurt is at Blaine's bedside, where the small boy is thrashing in his sleep. 

"Blaine Blaine Blaine sweetheart wake up. You have to wake up." 

But Blaine's eyelids just continue to flicker and Kurt realizes in alarm that Blaine is crying in his sleep. He hasn't had such a powerful dream for days. 

"Blaine please." Kurt wraps his arms around him, afraid he's going to hurt himself. He realizes that tears are streaming down his face as well at the sight of his boyfriend being torn apart from within. "Blaine!" 

Blaine awakes with a start, body stiffening. 

"Blaine it's me, you're home, you're safe..." 

He shakes violently before twisting closer to Kurt's body, sobbing. Kurt just cradles him against his chest, running his hands lightly against his body and sides, as if confirming that he is here. He doesn't know what to do. It has never been so bad before. 

"shhh Blaine just breathe you're okay you're safe" Kurt realizes that he is crying now as well. "Blaine please I don't know what to do, what can I do? I am so so sorry. So sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Blaine whispers quietly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"You couldn't do anything Kurt."

Kurt pulls away, seeing Blaine looking into the distance, as if staring through the wall and towards the rolling miles to the Capitol. To the arena that seemed right outside their door.

"Blaine."

No response.

"Blaine. Please look at me."

After a moment's hesitation, Blaine lifts his head ever so slightly, refusing to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Look at me."

"I'm afraid." He mumbles softly, voice but a whisper in the dark.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Ever. Now go to sleep."

"I can't."

"You need rest."

"I'm afraid of what I'll see." Blaine mumbles, voice muffled by Kurt's chest.

"Don't be."  

"But..."

Then Kurt is hushing him, pressing him gently against the mattress, deaf to Blaine's protests and easily overpowering his feeble attempts to rise. As he struggles against him, Kurt begins to sing softly, and Blaine stills amidst Kurt's insistent lullaby: 

I remember tears streaming down your face 
When I said I'd never let you go 
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said "don't leave me here alone."
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down 
You'll be alright 
No one can hurt you now 
Come morning light 
You and I'll be safe and sound

Don't you dare look out your window
Darling everything's on fire 
The war outside keeps ranging on 
Hold on to this lullaby
Even when the music's gone 
Gone 

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down 
You'll be alright 
No one can hurt you now 
Come morning light 
You and I'll be safe and sound...

Kurt trails off, stroking Blaine's damp curls, watching his eyes flutter closed, the tension slowly easing itself out if his muscles. Kurt watches fondly, heart aching at the beautiful boy in his arms. Softly, he sings the last verse, voice cracking and throat thick:

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down 
You'll be alright 
No one can hurt you now 
Come morning light 
You and I'll be safe and sound

Blaine's breathing deepens and silence blankets across the room like a comforting fog. Kurt exhales softly, running his hand over his face. He rubs his eyes tiredly, wanting to climb in next to his boyfriend on the bed and fall asleep. Instead, he chooses to remain seated by Blaine's bedside, their fingers loosely tangled together, and watches him sleep. 

His face looks so peaceful, Kurt thinks tenderly. He leans over and kisses Blaine gently on the forehead before drifting off to the sounds of his boyfriend's quiet breathing.

To be continued....