Blaine kept hoping to see Kurt, hoping to have a chance to talk to him. He even took to watching the window in case he saw him leaving the building, refusing to think about how creepy that might be. Monday afternoon he saw his chance. Kurt was carrying a bag of garbage to the Dumpster which would give Blaine enough time to get out there. He hurried down the hall and out the back door of the apartments. He saw the Dumpster open and the sound of a bag being thrown. Then he heard Kurt talking.

"Yeah, life has been great, Dad. Classes are going really well, I'm enjoying all of my new professors. Uh huh. Saturday at six. Velocity is gonna kill this benefit. Dad, yes, I'm fine. I don't know why Finn would tell you something like that. Of course I'm eating, what kind of question is that? Finn is such a drama queen, he's been hanging around Rachel too long. Okay, Dad. Take care and I'll see you Saturday. Bye," Kurt said, closing his phone.

Blaine stood there by the door, concerned. Kurt was visibly thinner, deep shadows under his eyes. And he was lying to his dad.

Kurt saw him and froze.

"Why are you lying to your dad?" Blaine asked gently.

"It's none of your business," Kurt said. His voice had gone from cheerful and friendly on the phone to tired and empty. He lifted his chin and eyebrow, looking down his nose at Blaine, something Blaine had seen him do when he was trying to protect himself.

"I'm worried about you, Kurt," he said.

Kurt's blue-green eyes seemed to look straight through him. "I'm sorry." He pushed past Blaine and into the building.

Blaine followed him. "Kurt, please. I want to talk about things, try to fix what I've done," he knew he was close to begging and he didn't care.

Kurt turned to him and glared at him. "I think you've done quite enough, thank you." He hurried up the stairs, not waiting to see Blaine's reaction.

He stood there for a moment before returning to his apartment. Going to his room he grabbed his phone and dialed the number of a man he didn't remember.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Hummel? This is Blaine Anderson."

"Why the hell are you calling me? You little son of a bitch, you'd better be staying away from Kurt!" his voice was full of rage as if he wanted to reach through the phone and strangle Blaine.

"Sir, please! Please, can I just tell you something?"

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say after you dared lay a hand on my boy?" he growled.

Blaine's palms were sweaty. He wiped them off as best he could as he tried to figure out what to say.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm worried about Kurt," he said, hoping that might make him listen.

"Well, Blaine, I've been worried about Kurt since you punched him, so why should I give a shit about anything you say?"

"Please, if you don't believe me, that's fine. Call Lauren or Mercedes or Mr. Schue from Velocity. Any one of them can corroborate what I'm saying," Blaine pleaded.

Burt was silent on the other end for a moment. Blaine knew he would indeed call the others, just as Blaine hoped he would.

"What's going on with Kurt?" he asked shortly.

"He hasn't been eating. He's lost a lot of weight and I don't think he's sleeping too well either. I overheard him talking to you on the phone and he sounded great, but face-to-face you can tell he's really not doing well. Sir, I think you might want to come see him. I've talked to him and I know Lauren has talked to him, but he doesn't seem to care. About anything, really. You might be the only one he will listen to. I'm really worried," Blaine said, speaking quickly so he didn't get cut off.

"And what exactly are you hoping to get out of this?"

"Nothing, sir. I'm just worried about Kurt. I know I'm to blame for all of this. I wish I could apologize to Kurt, tell him why some of this happened, but right now I just want to see him get better," Blaine said, hoping the man could tell Blaine was sincere.

"So tell me why some of this happened? It's my boy you laid your hands on. Explain it to me."

Blaine took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he told Burt everything. Everything he'd told Miranda, Cooper, the conversation with his parents, all of it.

"Damn, kid. You really got railroaded by your folks, didn't you?" Burt said, his voice surprised and more gentle than it had been.

"Yeah, I did. But please, could you just come check on Kurt? I know it's a long drive, but I think he needs help. He has classes and Velocity practice today, but he should be home around seven," Blaine said, hoping Burt would listen to him.

"It's never too long of a drive to come see my son. And if he's in as bad a shape as you said, than yeah, I need to get my butt out there. Thanks for the call. I gotta tell you, though, I'm not gonna run interference between you and Kurt. It's up to you to fix your own problems," he said.

"I already plan to, sir. Thank you for listening," Blaine said gratefully.

"Thank you for calling," Burt said and hung up.

Blaine took a deep breath. That had been the more intimidating than talking to his parents. At least he'd listened, at least Kurt would get some help. And that was the only thing that mattered right now.

. . .

Kurt came home, exhausted. Practice had run long and his energy levels had already been depleted after classes. But he'd pushed through and was satisfied that people thought he was fine. Coming out of the stairwell and heading to his door, he stopped. Oh, shit.

"Dad! What are you doing here?" Kurt said, shocked. He quickly covered it up with a smile and hurried to his dad and put his arms around him.

"Kurt, my god, what have you done to yourself," Burt's voice was horrified, but he gently squeezed his son. It was like hugging a fragile piece of glass that might shatter with too much pressure.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine," Kurt said, pulling away and unlocking his door. He walked inside and dropped his keys on the entry table.

"Kurt Christopher Hummel, don't you dare lie to me," Burt said, following him in and closing the door before coming over to tower over his son. He was in shock over Kurt's emaciated frame.

"Alright, geez. I haven't been feeling well. You know I tend to lose weight when I'm sick," Kurt said dismissively, heading toward the kitchen to make coffee for his dad.

A knock sounded at the front door. "Could you get that, Dad?" he asked, grateful to whoever it was for the interruption. Maybe it would hold off the inquisition.

He came out of the kitchen after a moment and stopped, his mouth dropping open. In his living room was Lauren, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Puck, Finn, Rachel, Mr. Schue, Sam, Artie, Mike, Tina, and Trent.

"What the hell is going on? Is it someone's birthday?" he said lightly, trying to smile, but failing miserably.

"Kurt, sit down," his dad instructed, his tone brooking any argument.

Kurt sat on the chair while the rest of the group sat on the couch, floor, and chairs brought from the kitchen. Within a couple minutes everyone was settled. He turned to his dad, feeling like he had a brick in his stomach. This was not going to be pleasant.

"Kurt, you've been lying to people. And not just people, but those who love you most in this world," his dad said, gesturing around the room.

"Dad, I'm fi- ."

"Don't even say you're fine, Kurt," Lauren said, holding up a hand. "I will bring the pain if you say you are fine one more time. How many of us here have heard Kurt say he's fine?" Everyone raised their hand. "And how many of you believe that Kurt is fine?" All of the hands dropped.

"Kurt you have lost an unhealthy amount of weight. You're weak during the day, your energy levels have dropped at rehearsals, you are not fine," Rachel said quietly.

Quietly, the other Velocity members went around commenting on his health and the worry they all had for him. Kurt had thought he'd been able to hide what was going on, but apparently his acting skills needed work. That or all of these people truly loved him.

Kurt turned his head away, fighting the tears burning in his eyes.

"I know things have been rough, son, I know. But you gotta take better care of yourself. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you," Burt said, his voice rough. Kurt turned and saw tears in his dad's eyes.

"I'm trying, Dad," Kurt whispered, his own tears spilling over.

"You gotta try harder," Burt said, taking Kurt's hand.

"Kurt, I hate to say this because we need you so badly. But if you can't take better care of yourself, I'm going to have to pull you out of the benefit," Mr. Schue said.

"What? No! Come on, Mr. Schue!" Kurt cried out. Velocity was the one thing keeping him from going under. And he didn't want to know what 'under' led to.

"Saturday is going to be intense. Lots of performances, dancing, and all of that in suits under those hot stage lights. I will not put you up there, knowing you could possibly collapse. I'm sorry, Kurt. I care about you more than I care about the performance," Mr. Schue said, his eyes sad.

"I'll do better," Kurt said quickly. "I'll try to eat. It's just that I get sick when I try," he said desperately.

"Let's get you in to see a doctor, then," Burt said. "Would you be willing to do that?"

"Anything. You just can't pull me out of the benefit," Kurt said, looking with pleading eyes at his director.

"Go to the doctor, do what they tell you. Then come to practice like normal. But Friday, I want you to go back and get checked by the doctor. I want a letter from the doctor confirming you are physically able to perform," Mr. Schue said. Burt was nodding his agreement and approval of the idea.

"Fine, that's fine. I can do that," Kurt said. After a quiet moment, he turned to the group of people in the room. "Thank you to all of you for caring enough to come here today. I appreciate it and I'm sorry I've made you all worry."

"Everyone else would have been here, but some had classes or work, but they wanted to be here," Tina said with a gentle smile.

For a split second, Kurt let himself wonder if she truly meant everyone, but he didn't question her.

After another round of well wishes and hugs from everyone, including a surprise kiss on the forehead from Puck, the door finally closed, leaving just him and his dad.

"Got a spare bed for your old man?" Burt said, taking his coat off.

Kurt stared. "You're going to stay the night?"

"Why, you gonna make me pay for a motel room?" Burt asked, miffed.

"No. No, this is great. I'd love to have you stay. I have the spare bed already made up," Kurt assured him. He couldn't tell him that all he really wanted to do was crawl in his dad's arms and hide there until all the pain went away. But sleeping under the same roof was enough.

"Good. So, what's to eat around here?"

As they were eating their soup, Kurt mostly just sipping at the broth under his father's watchful eye, Kurt started thinking.

"So was it Lauren or Mercedes who called you and sounded the alarm?" he asked.

"Neither," Burt said, ripping a roll in half and spreading butter on it.

"Then who told you?"

"Blaine."

Kurt stared at him, speechless.

. . .

The doctor turned out to be just as concerned as Burt. She gave him IV fluids while he was there in the office, as well as vitamins and a prescription for meds to help him settle his stomach and to sleep. When he asked her if she thought he would be better by Friday so he could perform Saturday, she looked at him sternly and told him he would, but only if he followed everything she told him to do. He gave his sincere promise. She told him to skip the rest of his classes for the day and go home and rest. He left with his new medicines, and a list of foods that would help strengthen him and replenish his depleted system. After Burt got him tucked in bed with "Funny Girl" in the DVD player, he went shopping and stocked Kurt's cupboards and fridge with easy to digest foods. When he got back to the apartment, he gave Kurt the medicine from the pharmacy and sat with him through the rest of the movie. Kurt ended up falling asleep and Burt stared at his son with concern. He was acting like Burt had when Elizabeth had died. In a sense, he was grieving the loss of a loved one. But it appeared that Blaine was coming around, swearing that he was in love with Kurt, that he finally admitted he was gay. Hearing what his folks had done hadn't shocked Burt. He'd wondered as much, knowing they'd never liked their son being gay.

Later, he made Kurt dinner and watched over him to make sure he finished it and was able to keep it down. The medicine the doctor had given him for his stomach worked like a charm and he actually went back for seconds of the soup. Pleased, his dad was satisfied that Kurt would keep working at taking care of himself. It would help that he planned to call his son every day, several times a day, just to make sure. But he didn't have to tell him that now.

He called Carole, who'd had to work the previous day to tell her he was going to be on his way soon. He was getting his stuff together and getting ready to leave when he turned to Kurt. "Son, I want you to remember one thing. Every criminal gets to plead their case in front of the judge and the judge has to listen impartially."

Kurt looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Oh. Kay. What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Burt smiled. "A little fatherly wisdom. Just remember okay?"

Kurt snickered. "Whatever you say. I love you, Dad. Thank you for coming out. I promise I'll do better," he swore.

"I know you will, buddy. I love you, too," Burt said, pulling his son close and hugging him tightly. There was no creature on this earth as precious to him as this man. He said a silent prayer to whoever might listen that his boy would find happiness again. Something told him it might just be possible.

. . .

Through the rest of the week, Kurt did exactly as the doctor instructed, desperate to perform on Saturday. Everyone commented on his progress, happy he was improving. The shadows disappeared from under his eyes and though it would take time to regain the weight he'd lost, his skin regained its porcelain glow and he was moving with more energy. Several times he saw Blaine staring at him, concern in his golden eyes. Despite what his dad had told him about Blaine calling him, he just couldn't get past the anger and hurt Blaine had caused.

Friday, at the doctor's office, Kurt gave a delighted shriek when the doctor gave her approval and wrote the letter for Mr. Schue. She even said she'd come to the benefit and laughed as Kurt hugged her excitedly before running out of the office. He immediately took the letter to Mr. Schue who gave him a hug and told him he was welcome to perform. When the rest of Velocity heard the news, they all applauded and cheered. He saw Blaine leap out of his chair to clap and whistle, but he looked away. Blaine had been very kind to him throughout the week, gentlemanly and sweet, even. Opening a door for him, bringing him tea during practice. Kurt kept his heart hard. He could not, would not risk letting himself get hurt again. He was finally on the path to healing and he intended to stay there.

. . .

Late Saturday afternoon found utter pandemonium at Mem-Aud where the Velocity members were trying to get costumes situated, sound checks done, a performance order worked and reworked, and nerves to settle.

When everyone was finally dressed in their clothes for their first performances, Mr. Schue called a show circle. Gathering together amid chatters of excitement and nerves, they all fell silent and looked at their harried director.

"First, I want you to know how proud I am of each and every one of you. You've all worked so hard and I couldn't be happier with how far we've come. Now, keep an eye on the schedule. Since there are so many performances and time between each, I expect you to be out in the audience supporting each other between your call times. We have a section cordoned off, so be the leader of applause and cheering. Remember, the happier people are, the more money they are willing to donate," he said among chuckles. "Alright, break a leg, everyone. Hands in," he said. All of their hands came to meet in the middle and they raised them up with a shout of "Velocity!" It was show time.

Kurt stayed in the back because he and Santana were third up. They warmed up their voices while listening to the distant strains of their teammates performing. Rachel and Rory were doing a lovely rendition of "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera. Then came Sam who sang his favorite country song, "Red Solo Cup". They could hear the audience clapping along, already enjoying themselves. Kurt was checking his hair and adjusting his suit. He thought he looked good in the deep blue shirt with the solid black suit. The blue brought his eyes out and the excitement put color in his cheeks. He couldn't believe how good he felt. He'd been sleeping every night and was able to eat anything he wanted, which was a lot now that he felt better. Santana came up to him in a gorgeous deep blue skin tight dress.

"Ready, fancy?" Santana asked with a grin.

"Let's do this," he smiled in return, taking her hand.

Blaine wasn't up for a few more songs, so he joined Trent, Lauren and some of the other members in the audience. Kurt was up next and Blaine couldn't wait to hear him sing. He didn't know the number he'd finally settled on, but with his beautiful voice, anything would sound like a taste of heaven. He applauded loudly and whistled as they were announced by the emcee, Finn, who was delighted to be able to participate in the evening.

Kurt looked spectacular in his suit and from the murmurs around him, he was sure Santana would probably end up with the phone number of every man in the auditorium.

The music began and Blaine felt his heart sink. Would he ever be able to make up for what he did? Even through the hurt pulsing through him, he knew they were doing a fantastic job. Kurt's voice sounded spectacular in the song. He was usually a Broadway kind of singer, but this suited him and Blaine had to admit, it was sexy as hell. Even if it felt like his heart was being ripped out.

(Kurt)

Now and then I think of when we were together

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

Told myself that you were right for me

But felt so lonely in your company

But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

Like resignation to the end, always the end

So when we found that we could not make sense

Well you said that we would still be friends

But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over

The audience was on their feet, waving cell phones like lighters, and swaying to the beat. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off Kurt. Suddenly Kurt's eyes found his and he sang the words to Blaine.

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

No you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

(Both)

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

(Santana)

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over

But had me believing it was always something that I'd done

But I don't wanna live that way

Reading into every word you say

You said that you could let it go

And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

(Kurt)

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

And you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

(Both)

Somebody

I used to know

Somebody

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

I used to know

That I used to know

I used to know

Somebody

The crowd roared as they finished. Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat and whistled loudly. Despite the hurt, he was so proud of Kurt and impressed with his natural talent. He walked to the back to get ready for his number.

. . .

Kurt was having the time of his life. The number with Santana had energized him and he was ready for the rest of the evening. He was in the audience listening to Mercedes belt out "I Will Always Love You", which she dedicated to the memory of Whitney Houston. His arms were covered in goose bumps from her soulful voice. It was the perfect way to spend the evening. He would sit through one more performance, then there would be an intermission and then more performances.

When Finn announced Blaine, he almost got up and left, but Mike pulled him down and muttered, "Support the team, remember?"

Kurt gave him an arrogant look, but kept his seat and looked toward the stage. Blaine was dressed in a stunning dove gray suit and shirt perfectly tailored to his wide shoulders and narrow waist. His tie was plaid with blue, gray, and purple. Blaine's hair was loose and curly around his head which Kurt had always loved. He was altogether gorgeous and Kurt couldn't hold back the yearning he felt for the man.

The lights went down until a single light was centered on Blaine. The piano began with the simple opening, a violin coming in, creating a sweet harmony.

I've waited a hundred years

But I'd wait a million more for you

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

Blaine found him in the audience and Kurt couldn't drag his eyes away. The words were beautiful and there was something hypnotic about Blaine that drew him in. He had to blink several times to get the sudden tears out of his eyes.

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch

If I had only seen how you smile when you blush

Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

Well I would have known

What I was living for all along

What I've been living for

Blaine pointed at Kurt, taking the microphone and walking to the edge of the stage. His rich voice filled the room. Kurt barely noticed out the corner of his eyes as people were sniffling and wiping their eyes.

Your love is my turning page

Where only the sweetest words remain

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

Blaine continued to gesture between himself and Kurt and the audience began looking around to find who he was singing to. Kurt sank down in his seat. Even if he wanted to leave, though, there was no way he could tear himself away now.

I surrender who I've been for who you are

For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

If I had only felt how it feels to be yours

Well I would have known

What I've been living for all along

What I've been living for

Though we're tethered, to the story we must tell

When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well

With the whisper, we will tame the vicious scenes

Like a feather, bringing kingdoms to their knees

The intermission was announced and Kurt turned away from the stage and went to see his dad and Carole. They complimented him on his performance and asked about Rachel and Finn.

"That last song was quite a doozy, huh?" his dad commented.

"I guess," Kurt said, uncomfortable.

"Remember what I said about the criminal and the judge, Kurt," he said and led Carole away to find refreshments.

Kurt pondered his words again and had a feeling he knew what his father was getting at. That he should let Blaine plead his case. But how do you get past the hurt, the betrayal? He shook his head. This was something to worry about another day. After finding his doctor and thanking her once again, he decided to wander around to find a bathroom since all the backstage ones were being used by his team members.

. . .

Blaine needed fresh air. That song had sucked the last emotional energy he had right out of him. It felt like he couldn't breathe. He walked down the stairs not seeing the people passing by him. He heard a familiar voice and as he reached the bottom, he turned.

"Excuse me, could I ask you a question?" Kurt was asking the usher.

The staircase was large and gently curved and as Blaine stared at Kurt, standing there above him, a flood of pictures entered his mind. A younger Kurt on stairs just like these, running down the hall, flirting over "Teenage Dream", talking about courage, confronting a bully, singing together on Valentine's Day. Kurt singing "Blackbird", putting his hand on Kurt's and telling him he'd been looking for him forever, their first kiss. Serenading Kurt at McKinley. The first time he'd told Kurt 'I love you'. The delight on Kurt's face when he transferred to McKinley, "Westside Story", their first glorious night together, stolen kisses in the hallway. He remembered every touch, every whisper, every detail of Kurt's beautiful, pale body. The sounds he made when he was filled with desire. Every time they'd made love. His quirks and pet peeves, how anal he was about the organization of the closet. The plans they'd made for their future. Finding their apartment, shopping and teasing each other. Being Kurt's little spoon, as he called him. Nursing each other through sickness, encouraging during trying times in school. Visiting Kurt's mom's grave. Kurt massaging his shoulders before exams. A bug bite from making love in the park. He remembered the forest, a fallen tree with thousands of names in it. He saw himself getting down on one knee and telling Kurt he made him whole, made him a better man, that he wanted to spend all of forever with him. Forever. That was their thing. They would be together forever.

"Blaine? Blaine!"

Blaine turned his head and saw Wes staring at him, concerned. Then he realized tears were streaming down his face.

"What's going on, are you okay?"

Blaine couldn't contain the radiant smile that stretched across his face. "I remember, Wes. I remember everything. I remember Kurt."