"Ooh, I get by with a little help from my friends.
I get high with a little help from my friends.
Ooh, I get by..."

Kurt flipped off the radio and tried to remember some of the breathing techniques from the yoga DVDs he had watched a few weeks ago with Brittany. It didn't take long for him to realize it wasn't working, and he felt his hands clench on the steering wheel as he took the turn into the school parking lot.

Spending Saturday night (or Sunday morning, as he glanced at the clock and saw it was after one) hanging out with officers from the local precinct hadn't exactly made his night. He had been asked so many questions, about who he saw on a daily basis, if he had any enemies or might have offended someone...he had laughed at that last one. In a Christian-Conservative state, there weren't too many he didn't offend, just by existing. But no, there was no one in particular he could think of, and that was perhaps the most daunting idea of all, that it was somebody he didn't even know who could hate him in such a way.

Lacey, whom he had called after dialing the police, had helped him cover the offending word--which happened to be painted on, not scratched, so perhaps he should be thankful that the repair job would be less costly than it might have been--with a piece of tarp from the back room, and forced some hot tea on him before he sat with her and one of the officers who had come by to look at the security videos. He wasn't sure if it was encouraging or not that the perpetrator of the crime had been wearing a neon jacket that was obvious even in the darkness. Was he going to flinch at every splash of neon across his vision now?

Well, it wasn't like anything neon wasn't a crime against fashion anyway, but knowing that it would haunt him on an even deeper level now was far from comforting.

He pulled into the only unoccupied space in the lot and put the car in park, letting the rumbling of the engine serve as soundtrack as he tried to calm himself with all the positives in this situation:

His car only needed a paint job, which, though a hassle, was still relatively inexpensive,comparitively.

He had not been at his car when the perpetrator had decided to deface it, which would probably have resulted in more serious injury than just a tagged car.

His girls had not been with him, and if he didn't bring it up, Brittany wouldn't ask, and wouldn't hurt with him.

Kurt repeated those three things over and over, trying to find another to add to the list, but it wasn't exactly a picnic he was describing. The first responding officer had said that, considering the nature of the crime, the relative lack of fuss with which it was committed, the perp probably was more of a coward than anything else, and so Kurt shouldn't worry about a face-to-face attack. Having pushed against stereotypes and being put in boxes all his life, Kurt wasn't too relieved at the assessment; what if this guy was simply starting 'small' before moving on to bigger offenses?

With a sigh, Kurt shut the engine off and rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn't stay out here worrying over things he had no control over. And Brittany, bless her heart, was probably still up, waiting for him to come home so she could make sure he was okay. He had brushed off most of her concern when he'd called her to let her know he'd be late, but he knew he would have to at least give her something concerning his talking to the police. Maybe he'd tell her there was a car accident outside the coffee shop that he had witnessed. It was a stretch, but he could at least truthfully say that he hadn't been directly involved in the incident.

Except it's your car, kid, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his dad whispered, and he cursed. What was he going to tell his dad next time he called? The older man had given the stipulation that Kurt could move away if he let him help, and part of that help took the form of paying for his car insurance. What if this incident caused his premium to go up? Or worse, what if his dad decided it was too dangerous for him to be so far away? Never mind that Kurt was an adult and that even in places like New York or San Francisco there were still people with hate in their hearts. It had been practically World War III in the Hummel household, first when Kurt had said he was leaving the state, second when he saw he was going to Montana, of all places. Kurt had argued that it couldn't be any worse than Lima, Ohio, and to date, it had actually been better. With this incident, though, it had just sunk in the ranks. Kurt could say that this sort of thing could have happened back home, but the fact was it hadn't, it had happened here, and damn it if his dad wouldn't be sharp enough to catch that fact and use it against him.

"I just can't win," he muttered to himself and pushed open the car door.

As he pressed the automatic locks, he took care not to glance at the side of the car. Though the offending word was covered, the brown tarp against the blue paint only highlighted its presence for Kurt, and he promised himself that if he could make it through this weekend and get the car to a shop on Monday, he would let himself have a big breakdown later, when he wouldn't be bothering anyone else. Maybe after finals?

A soft laugh escaped and he started humming With a Little Help From My Friends.

Yeah, he would get by.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Blaine wasn't quite sure what he expected when Kurt finally got home. His entrance occurred just as he and Brittany were sitting down for a pizza that Blaine had ordered in, and though the taller boy had seemed paler than usual as he unwrapped his scarf, he had also seemed, while surprised, genuinely pleased at Blaine's presence.

"Uh, I hope you don't mind that I'm still here," Blaine began awkwardly as he stood up to meet him. "Brittany wanted the company, and I--"

"It's no problem," Kurt waved off his explanation and smiled tiredly. "I'm sorry I'm back so late. There was an accident right outside the shop and I had to stay while the cops sorted things out. Who knew all those cow-milkers could drive that fast?"

"I though Montana cows were beef cows, not milk," Brittany frowned down at her pizza, and Kurt gave a small laugh. Blaine wondered if he knew how false it sounded, but didn't say anything as the other boy replied, "That's right, Britt. Sorry, my brain is too tired to come up with the right metaphor."

She nodded slowly before raising her gaze to his, and even Blaine could feel the blue piercing his soul as she looked at Kurt.

"But you're okay, right? You didn't get hurt?"

"No, Britt, I was just a witness. There's not a scratch on me," he answered with a small smile and turned around to show his perfectly unharmed figure. "See? I'm fit as a fiddle."

"Fit as a fiddle," she repeated slowly, and then nodded, and smiled brightly. "That's good, Kurt. I was worried."

"Oh, Britt," Kurt sighed and lowered a hand to brush her bangs back. "I'm sorry. I promise, I'm not hurt. And I promise I'll stay safe if something like this happens again. You know how good of a driver I am, right?" She nodded and he went on, "It was honestly just a freak accident."

"You and I attract a lot of freaks, don't we?" Brittany replied, and Blaine felt his heart clench as Kurt grinned, for real this time, and laughed out loud.

"You're telling me. So," he continued, sitting beside the blonde, and Blaine lowered himself across from them. "What's all this?"

"Ah, well, I wasn't sure when you'd get back, and Britt and I were kind of hungry, so..."

Blaine shrugged as Kurt eyed him and then nodded.

"That's fine. Though I don't know what Coach Sue is gonna say if she knows you're off your diet again, Britt."

The blonde's eyes widened and she stared down at the pizza in her hands.

"Oh no. But it's only one piece. You won't tell her, will you, Kurt?"

"Oh, Britt, I'm teasing," Kurt smiled. "And even if I wasn't, I'm sure one won't hurt."

"One won't hurt," she nodded and smiled again before taking a bite.

"Is that pineapple?"

"Uh, yeah," Blaine nodded, and found himself blushing for no reason. "But it's only on the one half. We decided we both liked pepperoni and green peppers, but Brittany wasn't sure about the pineapple, so I--"

"I love pineapple."

Blaine stopped as Kurt replied and then started to smile.

"Well, help yourself to some of my half, then."

"I think I will."

Blaine almost laughed out loud at the sudden eagerness on Kurt's face only to find himself blushing, shamed, less than a minute later when Kurt realized there were no plates on the coffee table they sat at, and then Kurt was up and bustling around the kitchen, telling about his day at work and the antics of his favorite customers, and how if he played his cards right, he might get a raise over the winter break, and if Blaine had been the clueless idiot he'd been in high school, he would have thought nothing was wrong. Of course, he could still be a clueless idiot, but he was a lot more perceptive than he used to be, and there was something about Kurt's smile as he sat down with them and helped himself to some pepperoni, green pepper and pineapple pizza that didn't ring true to the younger boy. His suspicions were proven true when Brittany finally decided she should head to bed, and Kurt went in to say goodnight, and to check on Sunny, and came back into the living room looking like his favorite relative had just died.

"God, life sucks."

"No kidding."

Kurt let out a small scream and Blaine would have laughed under any circumstances. As it was, he felt a flash of guilt and rushed to the older boy's side, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Kurt shook his head, breathing in deeply as he held a hand to his chest and a small laugh escaped.

"No, no. It's okay. I just forgot you were still here."

"If you want, I can leave?" he offered, hoping the answer was negative, but his question was left hanging, and that was answer enough. He dropped his hand and ran nervous fingers through his hair. "Ah, yeah. Well, it was nice to see you, Kurt. I'm sure you've had enough of me the last couple days, so I'll leave your Sunday to yourself. Thanks, though, for saving my long weekend."

He started toward the door, and then halted at the hand grabbing at his shirt.

"Kurt?"

Was he asking him to stay after all? Blaine felt his heart thudding in his chest, the sound so loud in his ears it took him a moment to take in Kurt's next words.

"What do I owe you? For the pizza, I mean."

Idiot, Blaine thought. Of course he doesn't want you to stay, you guys are just friends, remember? He sighed as his heart settled and turned back fully to face the other boy.

"You don't owe me a thing, Kurt."

"What? No, Blaine, come on. Brittany and I ate almost half the pizza."

"Keyword: almost," Blaine grinned and shook his head. "I told you, Kurt, you saved my weekend. And you've been feeding me all weekend, too. I think I can pay for one little pizza."

"But I--"

"No buts. This one's on me."

"You--"

"Kurt."

The tall boy bit his lip and nodded, and Blaine felt a hitch in his breathing as his gaze zeroed in on those lips. It didn't matter how many times he told himself they were nothing more than friends, and really, barely that, if you thought about it--they'd known each other less than a month, after all--he couldn't get the idea of the two of them together out of his head. The devil on his left side whispered that Kurt hadn't done anything to say that he didn't like Blaine, but the angel on his right argued that anything Blaine did would just be taking advantage of a poor, single parent. Blaine wished the both of them would just shut up so he could do things his own way, but somehow he didn't think that likely, especially considering they both looked like weird cartoon versions of his brother Cooper.

Somehow I don't think you're even sane enough to have a relationship right now, squirt, they both told him and he scowled.

"Why are you so nice?"

He was jolted from his confusing reverie by Kurt's question. It sounded curiously broken, and Blaine blinked and then felt his eyes widen in horror at the trail of tears falling from the beautiful boy's achingly beautiful eyes.

"Oh, god. Kurt. I'm sorry. If you really want to pay me, I--"

"No, that's not...I can't...Blaine."

And how was he supposed to react to that broken expression? Blaine didn't know what to do except wrap his arms around the other boy as he fell into his embrace, sobbing softly, and Blaine slowly walked them back to the couch, murmuring nonsense syllables into his ear as they sunk into the cushions together.