Chapter 17

December 9, 2012

The night from the eighth to the ninth of December was the longest night in Kurt's life. He and his dad decided on the watch schedule that allowed them to get some sleep, namely, changing every two hours. It would have been good if Kurt could fall asleep. When his first watch was over, he went to his dad's bedroom and lied in bed trying to fall asleep with no success. In the end after his second watch was over, he let his dad continue to sleep.

Kurt spent a great part of the night researching hypothermia and possible outcomes. He read all about various complications during recovery, heart related ones being the most worrisome so the teen made sure to keep checking Blaine's pulse every fifteen minutes to make sure it was beating steadily and rhythmically. Writing down his observations he was happy to find out that throughout the night the boy's heart rate became not only easier to feel but also slightly faster.

The most difficult part of the night appeared to be watching Blaine. The boy's shivering became even worse and he was trashing around with the wrap securely tied around his body with belts, sometimes reminding of a spider's prey trying to escape its cocoon. The sight was heart-breaking but Kurt knew it was for the best.

"Master..." Blaine mumbled once again and Kurt looked up to see the boy's eyes open for the first time that night.

He quickly went closer to the bed to make sure the boy could recognise him in a dim room, lit only by a table light.

"Blaine, it's me, Kurt," he spoke clearly. "You are safe."

"Please... Master... out..." the boy whispered, his voice shaking together with his body.

Kurt looked at him with sympathy, pleading with his eyes for the boy to understand why this was being done to him. "No, sweetie, we need to keep you warm. It won't last long, you will be out in no time, okay? Just hang in there."

"Please... bathroom..." the boy whined, looking at Kurt but his vision unfocused.

"Oh," it finally dawned to the teenager why Blaine was asking to be untied. "Okay, I'll let you out."

As quickly as he could Kurt untied the belts and unwrapped Blaine's body. He moved the bottles but while in action he noticed that the boy's skin was still cold. Not freezing as it was in the beginning, but still far from a normal temperature.

The boy helped Blaine to sit down on the edge of the bed and wrapped the duvet together so that the warmth wouldn't go away. "I'll help you to the bathroom, okay?"

The slave didn't acknowledge his words but Kurt didn't wait for his response anyway and hugging Blaine's waist with one arm he helped him to stand up. He was pleased to see that the other boy could hold most of his weight and he only needed to help him marginally. They safely made their way into Kurt's bathroom and Kurt switched on the light, which was met with a growl from Blaine when the bright light hit his sensitive eyes.

The countertenor guided the boy to the toilet. "I'm sorry, just narrow your eyes. Are you going to be okay on your own?" he asked and once Blaine nodded he released his waist but as he felt the other boy slump a little, he got his hold back. "Apparently, you aren't... Um, you can do your business... I promise not to watch."

Without another word the boy lowered his underwear with his shaky hands and Kurt looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up thinking of what was happening. He hoped that when Blaine fully woke up, he wouldn't remember this episode since he would be too embarrassed to ever look Kurt in the eye.

Blaine soon finished with the toilet and Kurt helped him wash his hands with warm water. Everything went well until they went back to the room.

"Please... no..." Blaine swayed in Kurt's arms as they approached the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"Hot... tight... Master..." the boy looked close to tears.

"No, Blaine, you have to–" Kurt began to protest.

"Please," two large puppy eyes stared at him and there was no way Kurt could deny him anything.

He nodded and weighed the situation. Blaine looked better so he assumed that the worst was probably over. The wrap helped a lot but maybe it wasn't vital anymore. There were ways to keep him warm without making the boy feel trapped so he seated Blaine on the chair and went to rearrange the bedding. In the end he just swapped the electric blanket with the duvet, which he turned around so that the warm part would be touching the boy's skin, and the bed was ready again.

"Come on," Kurt helped Blaine to stand up and to the bed.

Blaine lay on the electric blanket and rolled himself on a side, lying in a foetal position.

"No, no, no, you need to lie on the back," Kurt quickly explained, two bottles of warm water in his hands. The boy didn't react in any way and Kurt gave up. "Fine."

He placed the bottles on the ground and tucked Blaine, making sure there were no ways for the cold air to get under the duvet. Now the only problem was that Blaine's back had been exposed to the heat from the electric blanket for several hours and lying on the side it would cool off. The teenager stood by the bed contemplating his next move.

Finally the need to help the slave boy won and Kurt took off his pants and t-shirt. Throwing caution to the win he climbed under the duvet and pressed his body to the boy's back, gasping at the cool sensation. Being at such close proximity Kurt was overpowered by Blaine's smell which was much stronger now than in the car since the boy was warming up. Normally the boy would have been grossed out by touching someone so dirty and smelly but now he didn't care. He may need to bath in the antibacterial soap later on but keeping Blaine warm was much more important at the moment.

Kurt threw his arm around the other boy's body to make sure he didn't roll away and closed his eyes to rest for a few moments, suddenly feeling incredibly sleepy. A few seconds later he fell asleep for the first time that night, his grip on the boy tightening unconsciously.

Coming back to his senses was a slow process for Kurt in the morning. He was slipping between reality and unconsciousness, only merely aware that he was in bed, not in his dream world. Slowly he stretched his legs and rubbed his face into the pillow just to be surprised by how greasy it felt. He opened his heavy eyes and was met by the sight of slick black curls. When his hand slid up something solid, the 'pillow' cried out.

"Please, don't hurt me," a weak hoarse voice pleaded and Kurt jumped out of bed so quickly that he almost got tangled in the sheets.

This must have startled the boy because he crawled off the bed and got on his knees, his body tensed into a submissive position. Kurt rounded his bed, throwing on a bathrobe on his way, and kneeled in front of him, careful not to frighten him more.

"Blaine, can you look at me, please?" he asked gently.

"Please, no," the slave boy whispered and hugged himself as if to protect his naked chest from Kurt.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," the teen reassured him and with a soft touch on the boy's cheek made him look up. "It's me, Kurt, remember? Nothing happened in that bed and nothing is going to happen. You got very cold and last night my dad, Puck, and I brought you here. You are safe."

Blaine sniffed and tears escaped his eyes. "Yes, Master."

"No, no, I'm not your master," Kurt hastily corrected him. "We are friends, right?"

The boy nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, Master."

The countertenor sighed, seeing that Blaine was out of it and whatever he said wouldn't have much weight. "Let's get you to bed. We can't have you on the cold floor," he said and helped the shivering boy back into the bed.

Blaine lied on his back and let Kurt tuck him in, his eyes never leaving the other boy's hands, making sure that they weren't going to hurt him.

"I'll go make you some tea," Kurt said after he was sure that Blaine's body was surrounded by warmth.

The boy exited his bedroom and closed the door right when his dad left his own bedroom. "It's seven in the morning," Burt mumbled. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Good morning to you too, dad," Kurt said and walked down the stairs. "I couldn't sleep so I thought you could use some extra hours."

"Well, thanks," Burt said and followed his son into the kitchen. "How is Blaine?"

Kurt took the electric kettle and started to fill it with water. "He woke up a few hours ago to use the bathroom and he should be awake right now since he woke up a few minutes ago."

"And his health?" Burt asked pouring some milk on his cereal.

"The fact that he woke up is probably an indicator that he's getting better," Kurt said. "His heart seems stronger and he isn't as cold as he was. He is still out of it, calling me 'master' and stuff. And his body is pale except for all those huge bruises all over him. They look even worse now. I'm not looking forward to seeing them in the daylight."

"I'll go to a drugstore later when it opens. There is one that works on Sundays," Burt said and put another spoon in his mouth.

Kurt took a mug with a teabag already inside and began to put sugar into it. "Okay, get something for the bruises and cold medicine maybe? I'm sure he will have a fever and a sore throat and maybe bronchitis..."

Burt watched his son put the fourth teaspoon of sugar in a medium size mug with a curious expression. "Are you sure Blaine likes his tea that sweet?"

"I don't care what he likes; this is for his condition," Kurt said and poured the hot water into the mug. "During hypothermia stomach shuts down and can't digest solid food but he needs sugar for energy so all the articles suggest warm water or tea with loads of sugar."

"Well, you know better than me," Burt shrugged. "You know, I was thinking... Would you be okay with skipping a couple of days of school? Only until Blaine gets better."

Kurt glared at his dad. "Did you really think I would go to school when my friend just almost died?"

"Just checking," Burt shrugged. "I think I'll call Carole at a decent hour, tell her you are sick, and ask for advice. That way we will know what to do and someone will know your excuse for not going to school. If someone asks I'll tell them I didn't take you to the doctor because Carole helped me out."

"Yeah, that's perfect but what if she comes over or something? She seemed like a sweet lady who could do that."

"Don't worry, leave it to me," the man said and suddenly looked up. "Did you hear something?"

"What exactly?" Kurt frowned.

"Uh... don't mind me, I must be getting old," Burt laughed. "Why aren't you taking the tea to Blaine? Won't it get cold?"

"He shouldn't drink anything hot so I'm waiting for the tea to be of an acceptable temperature," Kurt explained and watched his dad washing up the bowl. "We could go upstairs and I could introduce you if you want. He needs to know who you are."

"Sounds good," the man agreed and they went upstairs.

"Do you feel the cold?" Kurt asked as they got closer to his bedroom.

"I do," Burt uttered confused.

With the mug in his left hand Kurt opened the door and felt a cold breeze hit his face. Right in front of him was an open window and Blaine, wearing his sweatpants and a sweater, had his right leg over the window sill, ready to climb out of the window.

The mug shattered as Kurt dropped it on the floor and ran to the window. Blaine's eyes widened as the countertenor's arms circled his waist and pulled him so hard that they both fell on the ground.

"No! Please, let me go! Don't want to, please!" the slave boy tried to wiggle out of Kurt's grip but was too weak to actually do so.

"Blaine, calm down!" the boy tried to hold him still.

Meanwhile Burt made his way to the window and shut it close to stop the cold from seeping into the room. "Kurt, you are scaring him even more."

"No, please!" Blaine fully cried, choking on his tears.

"Dad, call Noah!"