Blaine didn't usually get the chance to protect Kurt. Usually Kurt was the one doing the protecting, since Blaine got frightened so easily.

When the loud, scary lights had exploded across the sky a little after the Pierces took the tree out of the living room, Kurt had found Blaine under Brittany's bed and groomed his ears and whispered softly that it was all right, that the same thing had happened that summer before Blaine had come to live with them, before Blaine was even born, probably, and everything was fine. Nobody was hurt and the house was still there and everything was fine.

But Blaine still didn't come out from under the bed until the loud lights stopped. And Kurt didn't laugh at him for it.

Kurt never laughed at him for being afraid.

That was usually how it went; Blaine ran straight under the bed when the tiny, high pitched humans that liked to run everywhere and pull tails and ears and fur came to visit, and he ran under the bed when the other kind of loud light appeared outside, the kind that sometimes happened when it was raining. Blaine knew he wasn't very brave, but he was so small and the world was so big and his ears were so sensitive.

Kurt wasn't afraid of those things. Kurt swatted and hissed at the scary little humans with sticky hands to keep them away, and when loud, bright things happened outside he was happy just to sit at the window and watch.

Except he never really got to watch. Not anymore. Because now he was always under the bed with Blaine, grooming Blaine and comforting him.

Blaine felt bad for it. Because he loved how safe Kurt made him feel, but Blaine wanted to make Kurt feel safe too.

And then, one day, he finally had his chance.

Blaine could feel Kurt's fear when he walked into the living room, could smell it wafting everywhere. Blaine sniffed along the walls and every piece of furniture before finally finding Kurt, crouched beneath the big grandfather clock in the corner with his ears flat and his eyes enormous.

“Kurt! Kurt what's wrong?” Blaine asked, trying to work his snout under the clock.

“Blaine, go away! I don't want her to find me!” came Kurt's panicked reply.

Blaine backed away quickly, unsure whether to be hurt that Kurt was telling him to leave or scared because Kurt was scared or angry because someone was making Kurt scared.

“I know you're in here somewhere, Kurt!” Came a singsong human voice from around the corner. It was Joan, Brittany's mother. Blaine tilted his head, considering. That couldn't be it. Kurt wouldn't be afraid of Joan, not unless–

Blaine's suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Joan walked into the room carrying the plastic cage she liked to put Kurt in when she brought him in the car. And if she was going to bring him in the car, that meant she was going to bring him to the place with all the other dogs and cats and the woman with needles in the weird-smelling room.

Kurt hated going there, had admitted to Blaine that it terrified him. There were big dogs there sometimes, and they barked at Kurt, sometimes even showed their teeth and yelled that they were going to hurt him, and he didn't like it at all.

And no matter how small of a ball Kurt made himself into, the plastic cage was only so big, and he couldn't really hide back there. The big dogs could look right in at him and say things to him until it was time for Kurt to go into the weird-smelling room, and there was nothing Kurt could do to stop it.

Blaine also knew that Kurt just hated the idea of being in a cage, of being controlled in any way at all, really. Blaine knew that this was one of the ways cats were just different. Blaine had once asked Kurt why he never wore a leash when Brittany took them walking, and Kurt had scoffed that Brittany tried once, and that was why she had that slim scar above her right eye.

Joan set the cage down on the coffee table and begun looking around the room for Kurt.

Blaine's eyes went wide as she began moving closer and closer to the clock. It wasn't one of Kurt's usual hiding places, but it was clear that Joan was determined to find him.

Blaine didn't know what to do. Kurt hated the cage and was scared to go in it, and Blaine didn't want Kurt to do anything he hated, and he never wanted Kurt to be afraid.

Blaine lunged at the coffee table.

There was a ridge around the outside of the cage where the top connected to the bottom, and Blaine just managed to get his mouth around that, but he wasn't able to get a proper grip. He did, however, manage to topple the cage, jumping back just in time to avoid it landing squarely on top of him.

Joan whirled around to face Blaine just as she begun advancing on the grandfather clock.

“Blaine!”

Blaine fought the instinct to lower his head, to offer his belly, to give her what she wanted, to submit, because Kurt needed him and nothing else could possibly be more important.

Blaine hooked his teeth around the handle at the top of the cage and started to run.

Well, he tried to, anyway, but he was only a puppy, and a small puppy at that. He managed to drag the cage along at an awkward snail's pace, and it was only a few moments before Joan had pulled it out of his mouth, scolding him.

But the scolding didn't even upset Blaine, because he had seen Kurt sliding out from under the clock and flying out of the room and up the stairs.

After coming up empty in the living room, Joan continued searching, muttering something under her breath about time and appointment and...Blaine wasn't really sure what else, but he was starting to get nervous again, because he could smell Kurt's fear coming thick from Brittany's room, and that was exactly where Joan was headed.

Blaine jumped in front of her and stood up on his hind legs, putting his paws against her shins and wagging his tail and giving her the most guilt-inducing eyes he could muster. The ones that always convinced Brittany to stay up an extra ten minutes to play with him, or Joan to slip him a piece of bacon from the stove.

“Not now, Blaine,” Joan said irritably. Blaine whined.

Joan sighed and picked Blaine up (and sometimes he really hated being so small; if he was a big dog he'd be able to block the whole doorway and protect Kurt and Joan wouldn't be able to pick him up or anything), and placed him to the side of the door before walking through.

Blaine barked as he ran after her, and Joan paused to give him a puzzled and slightly concerned look. “Blaine, what is going on with you today, sweetie?” she asked.

Blaine tried not to look under the dresser, where the smell of Kurt's fear was densest. He had to do something. He had to really do something so that Joan would stop looking for Kurt.

Blaine's stomach roiled with anxiety. He shouldn't have eaten that half-eaten ham sandwich that he'd gotten out of the trash. It had tasted kind of funny and–

Oh.

Oh.

Blaine didn't want to do it. He could lie down and it would probably pass, but–

Joan took a step toward the dresser, and Kurt's fear surged. Blaine bolted in front of her as fast as he could, and promptly vomited across her shoes.

Joan screamed, and Blaine couldn't help but lower his head, ears drooping.

But when she left to clean up, Kurt whispered, very softly, “thank you,” and Blaine's ears perked up and it was completely worth it.

Kurt didn't end up getting put into the cage that day, and instead Joan changed her shoes and clipped Blaine's leash to his collar, and brought Blaine to the place with all the other cats and dogs and the weird-smelling room.

Unlike Kurt, Blaine had never minded going there at all. Well, he didn't like the needles so much, but other than that it was actually pretty fun. Blaine got to talk to all the other cats and dogs there, and yeah, some of the dogs were big, but they were just dogs. Other dogs weren't scary, just interesting. And all the human ladies there cooed over Blaine and brushed his fur and gave him kisses and treats, and most of the cats weren't too scared to talk to him because he was still so small. And not only that, but Blaine got to ride in the car twice to get there and back, and Blaine loved riding in the car.

When they got home after Blaine's visit to the place, Joan held his mouth open and made him drink some awful liquid, and trapped him in the kitchen with the little cage-walls in the doorways that Blaine was too small to jump over. Kurt could jump over them, though, and when he found Blaine curled up in his little bed near the boots and jackets, he was already purring.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, sounding amazed and impressed. It sent a thrill through Blaine's spine to hear Kurt say his name that way.

Blaine shifted so that Kurt could crawl into the bed with him, nuzzling against Blaine's belly until Blaine couldn't help but roll onto his back, begging for more.

“You saved me, Blaine,” Kurt said, his cool, soft nose against Blaine's tender neck making Blaine squirm with joy.

“I didn't want you to go in the cage, Kurt,” Blaine said. “You always take such good care of me when I'm scared, and I wanted to take care of you.”

“You did,” Kurt murmured, his own belly pressed against Blaine's side, his purrs making Blaine vibrate pleasantly.

Kurt purred and purred and purred while he nuzzled Blaine in thanks for his bravery, and Blaine just about melted with joy. Because he had done it. He had protected Kurt.

“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt purred, nuzzling against Blaine's belly, which just made Blaine sigh deeply and roll completely onto his back, because that was his most favorite thing.

Kurt was Blaine's most favorite thing.

“I love you too, Kurt,” Blaine replied, and honestly, aside from the vomiting and the gross medicine, this was the best day ever.

Blaine didn't even care that Joan made him drink more of the awful liquid before bed. Because Brittany still insisted on taking Blaine to bed with her, arguing that it wasn't right to make someone sleep alone when they were sick, and Kurt snuggled up against him extra-tight, grooming Blaine's chin and belly and paws until Blaine felt his eyelids slide shut with bliss.

Blaine fell asleep that night feeling prouder of himself than he ever had before in his young life. Because he might be very small, but he was big enough to protect the cat he loved, and in the end that was all that mattered.