Blaine quits glee club a few weeks after Sectionals. Not in the ‘I didn’t get my way and my talent is better used elsewhere’ sort of way the rest of the kids have all done before, but in the apologetic way as he explains that junior year at a new school is shaping up to be a little tougher than he had expected. Once he can get his grades where they need to be, he’ll come back. Everyone is understanding, of course. A lot of them know firsthand what it’s like to have to put other things first.

Except Kurt, because he never saw this coming. They tell each other every mundane detail of their day and Blaine hadn’t bothered to mention the fact that he was quitting the New Directions

But now that he thinks about it, they haven’t been talking as much lately. It’s been hard to notice, because Blaine is always there now. He sees him between classes, they have lunch together, and most afternoons he hangs out at Kurt’s house. But they don’t talk, not really. They make comments about the newest episode of Project Runaway or random things that happened at school that day, but they don’t talk like they used to.

Blaine is all about polite smiles and quiet nods these days, even when they’re alone. That isn’t the Blaine he knows. He’s grown so used to the in your face, bubbly, dancing to music Kurt’s never even heard of Blaine. The one who pulls him in for kisses and makes little muah sounds just to make him laugh. Not this. Whatever this is.

His first assumption is that Blaine has finally grown tired of him. He knows it’s a little self-centered to think about things like that, but it makes the most sense to Kurt. Because when he thinks about it, they see each other at school, they see each other after-school. That’s enough time to be overkill, right? Maybe the transfer wasn’t a good idea. He remembers I want my senior year to be magic and wants to groan. He must have sounded like such an idiot. A selfish, selfish idiot. And that isn’t something Kurt Hummel admits often.

Maybe quitting glee was just a clever way for Blaine to put a little distance between them beforehand. He has to hand it to Blaine, it’s really classy of him to let Kurt have glee in the event of their breakup. Leaving ahead of time makes things less awkward for the both of them. And besides, as silly as it sounds, he was there first and he would be damned if he was going to let a breakup push him away from one of the few things he loved about this school.

That’s fine. If Blaine wants space, Kurt will give him space. The situation will either resolve itself or they will respectfully part ways in the end. But if Kurt knows anything from watching the relationship arena of glee club, he knows that it’s never good to hang on to someone who clearly doesn’t want you anymore.

-

By the next time they pass each other in the hallway, it has been over a week since they’ve spoken. Being in different grades means they don’t have any classes together. Without glee club, all they had was lunch and Blaine has been suspiciously absent from that. And when Kurt doesn’t invite Blaine over after school, Blaine doesn’t bother to make plans for them. So he trudges on. It hurts a little, feeling like his first relationship is fading fast, but he has other things to focus on.

He smiles at Blaine, and he doesn’t miss the way Blaine struggles to return it. “Didn’t see you at lunch,” he prompts. “Again.”

“I’ve been working on a paper,” he replies, a distant tone to his voice.

Kurt has a few minutes before his next class so he doesn’t mind stopping to catch up with Blaine. He hasn’t seen him much lately, and it’s not like they’re completely over. And besides, maybe Blaine will take the opportunity to break things off.

A clean break would be good for both of them, at this point.

He takes in Blaine’s appearance, surprised at what he sees. His hair is only barely gelled down, and the curls at his temples have gone wild. His bow tie is uncharacteristically sloppy and Kurt has to restrain the urge to reach up and fix it for him.

That’s when he notices his eyes. They’re rimmed with red, and the entire effect is only made worse by his blotchy cheeks. He tuts internally, thinking Blaine has been skipping his skincare routine again.

But that’s only a momentary distraction from the fact that something is clearly wrong and Kurt doesn’t know what it is or how to fix it.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, fully expecting to be brushed off. He can still remember being on the other end of that question and the way it made him want to scream of course not, you idiots.

“Yeah,” he says just as softly. “Just been a little stressed lately, that’s all. Sorry I haven’t--”

“No, I’m sorry I haven’t--”

After a few failed attempts at talking over each other, they both laugh awkwardly. Like they’re hopelessly circling whatever issue is between them.

“You know you can call me if you ever need to talk, right?” he offers in parting. It’s not much, but it’s something. And sometimes that’s what makes the difference between the bad day and a worse one.

“I know.”

Kurt doesn’t know what’s going on with Blaine, but he’s beginning to think that it’s not just something he can deal with on his own. He had already let Blaine slip between his fingers so easily, blaming the perils of high school romance and thinking it was about him.

He doesn’t know what it’s about, but it’s definitely not about him.

-

Kurt tries not to beat himself up for too long over the first conclusion he had jumped to. At the time, it had made the most sense to him. The break in communication, the increasingly distant demeanor of his boyfriend. These things pointed to the end of a relationship in Kurt’s eyes.

It wasn’t until he saw Blaine that day that he had started to consider other options. Something about him seemed so lost, and he can’t place his finger on what was troubling him.

He knows he could list off all of the possible causes for Blaine’s recent shift in personality, but what’s the use? He would only be speculating, and speculation would get him nowhere. Approaching Blaine may only unleash the potential to push him anyway even further. Kurt can’t imagine how much further he can get at this point, so for now keeping quiet seems like the best option. Maybe whatever is going on will work itself out.

-

Blaine starts missing school. Just once or twice a week, but it’s enough for Kurt to take notice. And when he is there, he doesn’t seem to really be. He looks like he’s fading into the background when he passes him in the halls. Compared to the pink bow ties and colorful high waters he had once lovingly teased him for, he is grey scale.

His eyes aren’t nearly as bright as Kurt remembers.

“Hey,” he catches Blaine’s arm one day between classes. “Come over tonight. I miss my boyfriend.”

Blaine smiles, but it quickly fades. “I told you, Kurt. I’ve been busy.”

He can’t help but be hurt. Here he is, reaching out and Blaine is only shoving him away even further. It’s not fair. There isn’t a handbook for this, he doesn’t know what’s expected of him. It seems like giving him space has only made matters worse, so how is he supposed to make it better?

“It seems like you’ve been busy a lot lately.” It’s out before he can think his response though, and the words are almost venomous. He’s frustrated. He feels like he’s playing with an unfair advantage. Blaine has all of the pieces, and he has nothing to work with.

“I have to get to class.” It’s not a goodbye, but it’s an excuse as to why Blaine turns on his heel and takes off in the opposite direction.

Kurt grips the strap of his messenger bag a little tighter at that.

-

The next time Blaine misses school, Kurt peels out of the parking lot just as the homeroom tardy bell rings.

Blaine’s car is the only one in the driveway. His parents are out of town again, which is nothing new. It doesn’t make them terrible people, it just makes them busy. Kurt knows the difference between these two things.

It would have been helpful, having a key in this situation. His repeated knocks have gone ignored, and he knows Blaine has to have heard the doorbell by now.

I’ll call your parents. He’ll feel bad for the threat later, but only for a moment. Because that’s the only thing that gets Blaine to open the door.

He just stands there. His eyes look heavy with sleep and a hint of something else, something darker. He says nothing, probably waiting for Kurt to explain his presence. Like Blaine isn’t skipping school for the sixth or seventh time this month.

In retrospect, the Blaine that Kurt has been encountering at school must have been the version that has been holding it together. It’s a chilling thought, considering just how unsettling it has been seeing Blaine like that over at the past few weeks. Months? He mentally counts how long he has been playing this mentally exhausting game of tag with Blaine.

It has been two months since he’s heard Blaine laugh. Not just the chuckles he lets out when he’s uncomfortable, or the polite, amused hum he’ll give in response to a story. No, he misses the way Blaine really used to laugh. The way his entire face would scrunch up with the power of it, the way it sometimes descended into hiccups. It’s a simple thing, laughter, and it often isn’t missed until it’s gone.

“I’m not feeling well today,” he explains, still standing in the doorway. He makes no move to invite Kurt in, which is saying something considering the fact that it’s the middle of winter in Ohio.

“You’re never feeling well, Blaine,” he shoots back. And it must have been harsh, because that’s what causes the hairline cracks to finally shatter. Those are the five words that leave him a sobbing, stuttering wreck in the doorway.

Kurt can’t do much but stare at him in shock for a few minutes. He’s aware that some sort of urge to soothe is supposed to be kicking in, but he’s not sure how to go about that. He’s not sure if he’s the cause of all of this. All he can do is stand on the porch and stare at his boyfriend, feeling helpless.

His breath is caught in his throat. It isn’t until he exhales that he realizes that he had been holding it for fear of breaking anything further. “Honey,” he says quietly. “Let’s get you inside, it’s freezing out here.” And the thin wife beater and threadbare pajamas he has on can’t be doing him any favors.

-

They don’t breathe another word until they’re settled on the over-sized couch in the Anderson’s living room. Kurt had draped a blanket over Blaine’s shoulders (had they always been that small?) and thrust a mug of tea into his hands as if warming him up would make all of this somehow go away. He’s finally calmed down a little. The choked sobs have given way to a eerie silence. Selfishly, he yearns for the reaction from the doorway. At least it was something other than the silence.

Kurt doesn’t know what to do. That scares him.

He breaks the silence first. “Is it McKinley?” he tries first. “I know the transfer has been a big transition, and it was so much to ask of you. Oh Blaine, you know you didn’t have to do that, right?”

“No, it has nothing to do with McKinley. I wish it were just that.”

“Is it your parents? I know they’ve been busy, but they love you, Blaine. They don’t always know how to show it, but you have to know how they look at you,” he says, wringing his hands nervously. He knows he hasn’t always thought the best of the Andersons, but that is only because the coldness they often exude is alien to Kurt. It took him a long time to realize that their hesitance to open their home to Kurt stemmed only from their fears regarding the outside world. What it had done to Blaine. They were doing the best they could. They were only human.

“No.”

Kurt sighs, a little louder than intended. “You have to tell me what it is, Blaine. Is it me? What is it? Because I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

Blaine’s hands are shaking at this point.

“I don’t know what it is.” His voice is steady in a way that only makes Kurt worry more. “I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

Kurt is officially out of his depth. To be fair, he was probably there months ago, but only now is he admitting it. So instead of trying to fix things, he decides to listen. “What’s that like?”

“Exhausting,” he says as he sets the mug on the coffee table. “I just... don’t want to do anything. Pretending I care is exhausting. So I gave up.”

He can’t relate. Even in the darkest moments of Kurt’s life, he was still clawing his way out of the depths he had fallen into. Nothing had ever made him want to give up. Because that would be letting someone else win, and Kurt Hummel played to win.

“I’m just tired, I’m so tired and I have no excuse for it,” he continues. “Everything’s fine, Kurt. I should be fine. I should be--” His voice cracks again, just like it had in the doorway.

Kurt is quicker to comfort him this time, immediately pulling him in for a hug. “You’re allowed to feel however you feel, Blaine. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He doesn’t make promises that they’ll get through this together. It sounds nice, in theory, but Kurt knows that no matter how grown up they both try to act at times, that’s just it - they’re only kids. He has reached his limit, and so has Blaine.

-

He doesn’t leave until that afternoon, long after Blaine has fallen asleep. He knows his phone has been ringing off the hook. Finn undoubtedly let it slip to his father that he skipped out of school. He can’t bring himself to be too worried about the looming threat of punishment. He has bigger concerns.

When he walks in the front door, the first thing he sees is his father sitting on the couch, tie loose around his neck and the lines in his forehead more pronounced than usual.

“Kid, you know I love you, but you better have one hell of an excuse for where you were today.”

Kurt could lie. Blaine had kept quiet for him following the kiss last fall, the threat that followed. Didn’t he owe Blaine the same respect?

No. He didn’t. Blaine hadn’t either.

“Dad,” he starts, trying to ignore the sting behind his eyes. “I need your help.”