And when you need a place to run to
For better for worse
I got you

A place to crash
I got you
No need to ask
I got you

...

Kurt stared out the window, watching the Ohio countryside speed past him. Glancing at the review mirror, Burt's reflection offered a bracing smile. Carole turned from the passenger seat and reached her hand back. Kurt squeezed it briefly and returned a weak smile.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, he retrieved his cell phone from his school bag. Checking the time, Kurt knew that Blaine's last class was almost over and he'd be heading to practice. He sent off a text.

When does Warbler practice end today?

The response was immediate.

5. You okay?

Kurt hesitated over his words, choosing to ignore the question. The tension and anxiety still thrumming through his entire body evidenced his disbelief that he was actually transferring to Dalton.

New development.

Blaine's answer was again quick.

What's wrong?

Again, Kurt's fingers hovered over the keys, though he wasn't sure why.

I'm transferring.

Kurt held his breath as he waited for the reply. He nearly dropped his phone when, rather than vibrating with an incoming text, the ringtone sounded in the quiet car. He fumbled with the touch screen and pointedly avoided looking at the adults as he answered the call.

"Hello, Blaine," he said, trying to sound both calm and cheerful at the same time. It sounded forced to his own ears.

"Are you okay? Did something happen?" came Blaine's breathless, worried inquiries.

"I'm fine," Kurt said slowly. "Now breathe," he instructed. Kurt listened as Blaine took a couple deep breaths, hearing some kind of shuffling in the background. "Where are you?"

"At my car."

"What are you doing at your car? What about practice?"

"I-," Blaine hesitated. "I got worried and I thought-," Blaine trailed off.

"I'm coming, Blaine," Kurt said quickly, saving the other boy from thoughts Kurt knew were swirling in his mind unspoken. "I'm with my dad and stepmom. We'll be there around 4:30."

"You sure you're okay?" Blaine's concern lessened the residual tension in Kurt's mind and body.

Kurt let out a breath and answered honestly, "I will be."

"Good," Blaine said somberly.

"You better get to practice," Kurt said kindly. "As the star soloist, you shouldn't be late. Don't want to set a bad example," he added, teasing lightly. Blaine chuckled.

"I suppose not," Blaine replied simply. Silence hung between them for a long moment.

"I'll text you when I get there."

"See you soon."

...

"Blaine?" Kurt slowed his approach to the school, sparing a glance at Burt and Carole. Blaine stood from his perch on the front stairs of Dalton, shouldered his school bag, and walked quickly toward the trio. He smiled at Kurt before turning to the adults.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel," Blaine greeted, proffering his hand. Burt eyed the dark-haired boy for a moment, but shook the offered hand.

"Good to meet you," Burt said honestly, vividly remembering his conversation with him last week. Blaine graced him with a wide smile, his previous subdued but professional manner giving way to a youthful happiness.

"This is my stepmom, Carole," Kurt supplied.

"Hi, Mrs.-," Blaine trailed off, unsure of her title.

"Carole's fine," she said kindly. Blaine offered his hand to her as well, which she took in both of hers. "Thank you for meeting us." They shared a look and Blaine smiled bashfully.

"You're welcome," he said quietly, leaning close. Carole gave his hand another squeeze before letting go. "I can show you where the dean's office is," Blaine offered, though it was more a question.

"That'd be good," Burt said. Blaine turned and led the way up the stairs to the front doors. As they made their way to the administrative offices, Kurt fell in step with Blaine as the adults followed close behind.

"I thought you had Warbler practice?" Kurt asked.

"I got excused," Blaine said, sparing an embarrassed look at the other boy. "I was distracted."

"I said I'd be okay," Kurt said kindly, knowing he was the cause of the distraction. Blaine looked at him again, doubtful and assessing. Kurt looked away from the scrutiny, glancing around at the spacious hallway they were walking through. He was all too aware of the tension still residing within him and wondered if he would ever be free of it. "Karofsky's suspension was lifted," he revealed quietly. "He's returning to McKinley tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said somberly, leaning close so their shoulders touched briefly. Kurt offered a wan smile.

"I'm here now."

"I'm glad."

...

They arrived at the entrance to the administrative offices moments later, and Blaine introduced them to Mrs. Williams. The woman ushered Kurt and his parents into the inner office, as Blaine hovered by her desk. Gripping the shoulder strap of his bag tightly, he began pacing.

"Stop fretting," Mrs. Williams advised lightly as she came back out and closed the door behind her. She sat behind her desk. Blaine stopped and looked at her, his expression tortured. "Sit," she patted the chair next to her desk. Blaine obliged, letting his bag drop to the floor. She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "It's going to be fine."

"It's really not," Blaine said, looking down at his lap, and the woman knew the truth behind those words came from experience. She let out a sigh, remembering the medical records and police report that had accompanied Blaine's academic records when he first came to Dalton. The woman squeezed his arm comfortingly. Sad eyes met hers.

"You got that young man out before it was too late," she said gently, knowing Blaine would understand what she didn't say. Blaine's gaze faltered at her words, falling to the desk. Mrs. Williams pressed delicate fingers under his chin and pulled his attention back to her. "Because of you, he's going to be okay," she said with conviction. Blaine swallowed roughly, as tears clouded his vision. "You did what others couldn't or wouldn't. You made the difference. Don't ever forget that."

...

"We received Kurt's academic records as soon as you called," Dean Shapiro said after everyone had exchanged greetings and sat down. He turned to Kurt before continuing, "You are an exemplary student."

Kurt expression morphed from tense to surprised to pleased in the space of seconds.

"He's entirely bored with the classes at McKinley," Carole supplied proudly. Kurt spared her a glance, surprise back on his face.

"Well, our teachers are expected to challenge our students. And the students are held to higher standards. I'm sure Kurt will fit in well here." The dean smiled encouragingly at the young man before continuing. "Everything is ready for Kurt's transfer. We're just going to need your signature on a couple forms, and the tuition deposit." The man slid a small stack of paper across his desk.

Kurt looked at his father, who nodded at the other man and reached into his inside coat pocket. Suddenly, Kurt reached a hand out, grasping his father's arm.

"Kurt?" Burt questioned, looking at his son.

"Dad, are you sure?" Kurt couldn't keep the tremor from his voice, couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes. Just as much as he feared going back to a McKinley with Karofsky in it, he feared what this would cost his father.

"Am I sure I'll do anything to keep you safe?" Burt replied gruffly. "You bet." With that, he patted Kurt's hand, and then pulled out the cashier's check that they'd stopped at the bank for on the way to Westerville. Carole took Kurt's other hand in hers as he settled back into his seat, blinking his tears away. Burt signed the forms and handed over the check.

"Kurt, despite the circumstances," the dean said, "we're pleased to have you."

...

The click of the door several minutes later had Blaine quickly standing, balling up the tissue he'd been tearing apart in his fist. Mrs. Williams halted her typing long enough to reach a hand out and squeeze Blaine's arm encouragingly. The smile gracing his face was grateful and more indicative of his usual optimism.

"Blaine," Dean Shapiro prefaced as he and Kurt appeared in the doorway. "Could you please help Kurt get a uniform?"

Blaine nodded, "Yes, sir." He pocketed the tissue remnants and grabbed his bag from the floor.

"I'll show your parents to your room when we're done," Dean Shapiro directed at Kurt. Kurt offered a bracing smile in return.

"Thank you, Dean Shapiro." The dean nodded and retreated into his office.

Kurt and Blaine left the administrative offices in silence, and it wasn't until they had reached their destination did one of them speak.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked hesitantly as they entered the room. He had spared several glances at Blaine on their silent trek through the halls, had noticed the absence of the other boy's usual cheerfulness.

"Of course," Blaine replied nonchalantly, though he didn't look at Kurt. "What are your measurements?" he asked, surveying the racks of uniforms.

"Blaine?" Kurt prompted, ignoring Blaine's question. When the other boy finally looked at him, his expression was indiscernible-his red eyes hinted at fatigue and something else. They'd only known each other for a few weeks, and Kurt realized that he still didn't know a lot about the other boy. He knew the confident, outgoing, and happy Blaine; and he knew concerned and worried Blaine, but this was a side of Blaine Kurt had yet to discover.

Blaine let out a sigh, breaking eye contact, "I'm just relieved you don't have to deal with Karofsky anymore."

"Me too," Kurt revealed with his own sigh. Another moment passed in silence before a wide grin spread across Blaine's face. Kurt eyed him curiously.

"It's going to be great having you here," Blaine said excitedly. "The Warblers are going to die when they hear you sing." Kurt felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks as Blaine laughed, and just like that, the somber mood dissipated.

...

The sun had disappeared below the horizon by the time Burt and Carole, followed by Kurt and Blaine, walked out of the building and toward the car.

Kurt and Blaine had made quick work of collecting the necessary clothing, and Blaine had given Kurt a quick tour of the classrooms before heading for the dorm rooms on the upper floors. Burt, Carole, and Dean Shapiro had arrived at Kurt's room just as the boys did. Blaine had offered to escort them out when they were ready to leave, so Dean Shapiro shook hands with everyone and said his goodbyes.

"Classes start at 8:30. You'll probably have to see Mrs. Williams for your schedule, so make sure you're here by 8:00. Breakfast starts at 7:30 if you have time," Blaine informed. Kurt couldn't stifle his chuckle, or his smirk.

"I know when classes start, Blaine. You always text me right before first period. And I know we haven't known each other for very long, but have I ever been late?" Kurt asked, somewhat indignantly. Blaine held his hands up, sidestepping away as they continued to the parking lot. Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, okay," Blaine said, relenting, amused. "I can see I've hit a nerve," he teased.

Kurt feigned offense, but couldn't keep the grin from his face or the chuckle that passed his lips at the other boy's obvious mirth. Blaine smiled, thrilled to hear Kurt's laughter again.

"Blaine," Burt spoke up as they reached the car. He and Carole had turned around, and both were eyeing the two happy teenagers.

"Yes, sir?" Blaine answered quickly, a serious, and slightly nervous, expression taking over his smile.

"First, call me Burt. And second," the older man paused as he stepped closer, "thank you." Blaine looked uncomfortable under Burt's intense gaze, but managed a small smile. He spared a glance at Carole, whose gratitude was painted across her face. The woman surprised everyone a moment later by pulling the young man into a hug. The embrace was brief and when Carole released him, Blaine's expression was a mix of embarrassment, relief, and happiness.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt said quietly, breaking the silence. Blaine nodded, feeling himself smiling easily. As the three drove off, Blaine watched until the car disappeared down the road. With a deep breath and a newfound sense of peace, he walked back into the building.

...

"You ready for tomorrow?" Burt said from the open doorway. Kurt stowed the folded article of clothing he held into the duffel bag before looking up.

"Almost," he said with a small smile. "How was Finn?" Kurt had heard his stepbrother come home about an hour ago, but hadn't wanted to face the other boy. Carole had called Finn during their drive home, discovering that all of New Directions had gathered for a somber dinner at Rachel's house. Kurt had declined being dropped off there when they returned to Lima, not wanting to hear their arguments and outrage, or see his friends' tears.

Burt shrugged, stepping into the room. He surveyed the clothes still laid out on the bed before answering, "He said everyone misses you already."

Kurt let out a sigh and picked up a shirt, folding it. Burt watched his son for a few moments, until all the clothes were folded and tucked into the bag.

"You didn't want to say goodbye?" the older man asked gently.

"It's not goodbye," Kurt said tiredly, a hint of frustration seeping through. He stepped in front of his vanity, selecting which bottles he would need.

"Hey, come here." Burt sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him. Kurt set the bottles by his bag before doing as requested.

"I just don't want to hear how upset they are," Kurt revealed after a moment. "This is happening to me, and I feel like they don't have a right to be upset. They should have been upset about it weeks ago when it started."

"You didn't tell them, though, did you?" The question wasn't accusatory and Burt already knew the answer, knew his son well enough to know he'd hidden the worst of the bullying from everyone.

"No," Kurt said with a sigh. "So, now, I feel guilty for thinking the way I do." Burt wrapped an arm around the boy, and Kurt rested his head against the older man's shoulder.

"How did Blaine know?" Burt was honestly curious, because Kurt's friends hadn't noticed. Nor had Finn or Carole or himself, and Burt was carrying his own guilt.

"The first time I went to Dalton, his friends mentioned the no-bullying policy and I just couldn't understand that there would be a place like that," Kurt answered quietly. "And he just knew. So I told him everything."

"You like him?" Burt asked reluctantly, though he already suspected the answer. Kurt nodded against his shoulder.

"I feel like there's someone out there who notices me, who would miss me if I weren't here," Kurt admitted quietly. Burt tightened his grip around his son and pressed a kiss against the teenager's hair, fighting tears for the first time over the situation. Kurt lifted his head quickly, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean-," he trailed off, panicked. "Dad, I know-."

"Stop." Burt held up his hand for emphasis. "It's fine," he continued, voice softer. "I know what you mean. But you have to know that a lot of people would miss you if you were gone." Kurt nodded mutely, his eyes still wide and shining. "You are so important," Burt said slowly, staring hard at his son, willing his words to sink in.

Kurt didn't have any words to respond with, so he merely grabbed Burt's hand in his and squeezed, offering his father a wan smile.

"This isn't going to be another Finn crush, is it?" Burt asked a beat later, trying to alleviate the gravity of their conversation.

"Blaine's gay, Dad," Kurt said with a wry laugh. Burt frowned.

"Huh. I think I might prefer the Finn thing then."

"Dad!" Burt smirked at Kurt's annoyance and the blush that appeared on the boy's cheeks.

"Just take it easy, okay?" Burt's tone turned serious again. "You're still young. There's no need to rush things."

"I know," Kurt said soberly. "I'll be happy even if we just stay friends. I owe him a lot."

"So do I." Burt tightened his grip around Kurt again before repeating, "So do I."

The two sat together for several more silent seconds. Finally, with one last squeeze of Kurt's arm, Burt let go and stood up.

"You better finish up and get some sleep," Burt advised. Kurt nodded, standing up as well.

"We'll have breakfast before I leave, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Burt replied.

"And I'll be back on Saturday, after Sectionals," Kurt added. When Burt didn't respond, Kurt reached for his father's hand again. "Dad-." Before Kurt could say anything else, Burt had pulled the young man into his arms.

"I'll miss you," Burt whispered fiercely. Kurt ducked his head against Burt's shoulder, returning the embrace wholeheartedly.

"I love you."

...

Kurt stood next to the entrance of the dining hall, taking deep breaths. He heard bits of conversation and laughter, and the clinking of silverware and dishes. He gripped the schedule he'd retrieved from Mrs. Williams minutes ago.

"Kurt?" Kurt started, whirling around. David smiled apologetically, "Sorry." Kurt tucked his schedule into his bag and returned the smile. David hefted his school bag higher on his shoulder and tilted his head toward the door. "Come on. Everyone's waiting to meet you."

"Everyone?" Kurt asked, giving David a curious look. David chuckled, but didn't reply right away. When they stepped into the room, the buzz of conversation immediately quieted. David laughed again when Kurt froze.

"Blaine told us you were coming," David whispered as he leaned close. As if on cue, Blaine stood from a table at the far right of the room, grinning. Kurt let out a breath, and David laughed again. He nudged Kurt's shoulder with his own. "Come on," he repeated. Kurt squared his shoulders and lifted his chin slightly, letting a smile grace his expression. As soon as the two boys resumed walking, the noise returned to the previous level.

"Kurt," Blaine greeted, smile firmly in place. He reached out and squeezed Kurt's hand. Though brief, Kurt was surprised at the contact. He scanned the faces around the small table nervously, but none showed any disapproval. In fact, all of them were smiling.

"Blaine, sit down, would you?" David cut in, setting a chair he'd retrieved behind Kurt. "You'd think we were at some kind of formal affair," he teased, setting his hands on Blaine's shoulders to push him back into this chair.

Kurt took the offered seat with another smile and a quiet "thank you" as David went in search of another chair, watching as Blaine laughed good-naturedly with the other boys. Blaine spared Kurt a slightly embarrassed look, but recovered quickly.

"This is Trent and Thad," Blaine introduced the two boys on his left. The teenagers waved vaguely, offering welcoming words. "And you remember Wes and David?" Wes nodded just as David returned with his own chair.

"You're coming to Warblers' practice today, right?" David asked, slouching in his chair with a bowl of cereal in hand.

"The poor boy just got here. Give him a chance to, you know, figure out where all the classrooms are," Thad interjected before Kurt could answer.

"But Blaine's been going on about what a great voice he has. And we've never had a counter tenor. I just want to hear what all the fuss is about," David rambled on with a grin. When he finished, Blaine and Kurt had matching blushes, but Kurt couldn't contain his smirk at Blaine's chagrin.

"David," Wes chastised lightly. David shrugged and proceeded to eat his food.

"Ignore him," Thad advised.

Trent added, "We all do." David feigned indignation, but a moment later, everyone was laughing. Kurt looked around at the boys, smiling at their humorous interactions. His smile widened when his gaze met Blaine's, the other boy's amusement clearly written all over his face in eyes.

When the laughter died down, Wes turned to Kurt and said, "We're glad to have you." Everyone's nods of agreement had tears clouding Kurt's vision. He smiled his thanks. Blaine grabbed his hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, what about us?" a boy called from the next table, breaking through the suddenly somber mood. Kurt was grateful for the distraction, blinked his tears away, and craned his neck to see who was speaking. Blaine chuckled, letting go of Kurt's hand.

"That would be my roommate, Nick," Blaine informed.

"We should get to first period," Trent advised, piling his dishes together and standing. Kurt glanced around, seeing other boys starting to gather their things.

"You'll meet the rest of them this afternoon," Blaine said, standing up with his own empty bowl and cup. Everyone else at the table stood and, after setting their dirty dishes in the tubs at the far end of the room, the boys headed out of the dining hall. Kurt followed, smile firmly in place.

"You're cheerful this morning," Blaine observed once the other boys had said their goodbyes.

"I'm choosing to see this as a new adventure." Kurt graced Blaine with another smile as they continued down the hall amidst all the other students. Blaine returned it easily.

"It's good to see you smile." Blaine's smile widened at Kurt's pleased expression. "How's your schedule?"

"I'm in Senior Honors French," Kurt replied, unable to contain his excitement, much to Blaine's amusement.

"What do you have first period?" Kurt pulled out his schedule and scanned it, as they walked past several classrooms.

"Chemistry," Kurt replied, his smile diminishing slightly. Blaine tugged on Kurt's sleeve, steering him down a corridor to the right.

"That's a sophomore class," Blaine said, leaning close to peer at Kurt's schedule.

"I know. I was in Chemistry at McKinley, so I have to double up in the sciences if I want to catch up."

"That's rough," Blaine said sympathetically.

"It's not so bad," Kurt countered optimistically.

"Well, there is one good thing about Chemistry first period," Blaine said with a smirk.

"Oh, really?" Kurt shot back with a quirk of his eyebrow. Blaine placed a hand on Kurt's arm, halting the other boy in front of an open door.

"I'm in it." With that and another smile, Blaine pulled the other boy into the classroom.

...

"Wes? You have a minute?" Blaine asked, standing in the doorway to the other boy's room.

Wes looked up from his desk, setting his pencil down before answering, "Yeah. You need something?"

"I wanted to see if you would ask the council to let Kurt audition for Sectionals." Blaine stood awkwardly by the door, his hand still resting on the frame.

"That's an unusual request."

"I know," Blaine said, smiling briefly.

"We haven't even heard him sing yet," Wes reasoned.

"He's good," Blaine asserted, stepping fully into the room.

"So you've said. That's why we didn't have him audition to get into the Warblers." Blaine shifted his weight, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Wes turned in his chair, pointing at his bed, and said, "Sit." Once Blaine had perched on the edge of the mattress, hands resting on his knees, Wes asked, "What's going on?"

After a beat, Blaine looked up and answered, "It's hard, coming to a new school. I just want him to feel like he belongs."

"It's an adjustment," Wes agreed, watching Blaine's tense expression. "I'm sure he's going to be fine," he assured kindly.

"Yeah," Blaine relented, looking down at his hands. He shook his head slightly, dismissing his thoughts, and spared a glance at the senior. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. The council's already made an exception." Wes waved off the apology, still eyeing the other boy.

"Why don't you ask him out?" Wes inquired after a moment. "You guys are practically attached at the hip already."

Blaine looked up, startled, and answered, "It's not like that."

"You like him, don't you?" Wes pressed. Blaine's expression was answer enough. "So?"

Wes waited patiently as Blaine stared at the floor. Wes had learned when he first met Blaine that the younger boy didn't often reveal his personal thoughts, but if one waited long enough, Blaine would speak up.

"When I look at him, I see me," Blaine started. He took a deep breath and let his shoulders sag as he let the breath out. Out of everyone at Dalton, Wes had been the one to climb over Blaine's walls with his quiet patience and understanding smile. And Blaine had taken advantage of the older boy's willingness to listen on more than one occasion. He let out another sigh.

"I see what I could have been if those idiots hadn't beat the crap out of me," Blaine revealed softly, regret ghosting across his face. "I see what I could have been if I didn't have Dalton to run too. He's confident and comfortable with himself despite all bullying. He's not afraid to let others see him-his emotions, flaws, everything."

"He's all of those things because of you," Wes interjected. Blaine shook his head in disbelief.

"He was all those things before I knew him," Blaine countered. "And he reminds me what I couldn't be, what I'm not."

"So why do you hang out with him?"

"Because he's also everything I want to be."

"You're more like him then you give yourself credit for," Wes said. The other boy looked doubtful so Wes continued, "Really, Blaine. You saw what others didn't. And maybe he was those things before you knew him, but it was you looking out for him that let him continue to be that way."

Blaine ducked his head, embarrassed by the praise. Wes chuckled as he spied a hint of a smile on the other boy's face a moment later. Standing, Wes reached out a hand. Blaine took it. He pulled the younger boy to standing.

"I'll talk to the council about the audition," Wes said with a reassuring smile. Blaine smiled gratefully.

"Thanks, Wes."

...

"Kurt?" Blaine greeted confusedly, pressing his phone to his ear.

"Hey," came Kurt's enthusiastic greeting.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Kurt's answer came quick and easily. Blaine sat down on his bed.

"Why are you calling?" Blaine asked, still perplexed.

"We always talk right before curfew," Kurt replied after a beat, his tone markedly less cheerful.

"Oh," Blaine said, comprehension creeping into his mind.

"Are you busy?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Blaine jumped up, quick to answer, "No, I was just surprised."

"Surprised?" The innocent question had Blaine chuckling, and Kurt inquiring, "What?"

"You know," Blaine said, stifling his amusement, "you can just come down the hall now if you want to talk?" Blaine held his breath as he waited for Kurt to catch on.

"Will you think less of me if I say that I actually hadn't thought about that?"

"No," Blaine replied honestly, though he couldn't keep the merriment completely out of his tone. When Kurt didn't say anything else, Blaine asked kindly, "Did you want to talk about something specific?"

Kurt's laugh rang over the line before he spoke, "I just wanted to say 'goodnight'." They shared another laugh before letting the quiet settle between them. Blaine was the first to speak up.

"Goodnight, Kurt. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Blaine.

...

"Good!" Rachel exclaimed, clapping her hands together as Kurt finished the song. Kurt smiled, bowing to the empty McKinley High auditorium. When he was upright again, he looked at an equally smiling Rachel and the two burst out laughing.

Kurt came around the piano and dropped down next to Rachel on the piano bench, breathless from belting out Don't Cry for Me, Argentina. Rachel leaned close and tugged at his lapel.

"You look nice," she said kindly. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"It's not my first choice, or second for that matter, but I can't deny it has a certain charm."

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with a certain other boy who wears the uniform," Rachel teased, bumping her shoulder lightly against Kurt's. Kurt blushed and looked down, but didn't counter her comment. Rachel's mood sobered after a moment. "Do you like it?"

"It's different," Kurt answered vaguely. Kurt ghosted his fingers over the piano keys in the silence that followed.

"It's okay if you like it better there," Rachel asserted after a few moments. She hesitated before asking, "Do the other students treat you nice?" Kurt looked at her then, his fingers still absently trailing up and down the keys.

"They do." Rachel nodded her approval. Kurt's attention returned to the piano.

"I know it was bad," she revealed, watching Kurt's graceful fingers move along the ivory in a silent melody. "You weren't speaking up in Glee Club and you rarely ate your lunch. It was my fault Sam got into that fight with Karofsky. I tried to get the guys to confront him." Kurt stilled his fingers, but didn't look up.

"I-," his voice faltered. He swallowed. "I didn't know," he got out softly.

"I'm just sorry we couldn't do more," Rachel said ruefully. Kurt shook his head, looking up with determined eyes.

"Don't be," he said sternly, catching Rachel's gaze. "You don't know what Karofsky's capable of. Sam's lucky to have gotten away with just a black eye."

"We-," Rachel started, but was cut off when Kurt continued.

"Rachel," his tone turned pleading, "promise me, you won't try to do anything else to Karofsky."

"Kurt-," she tried again, confusion coloring her expression.

"Promise me," Kurt repeated, now more desperately.

"I promise," Rachel said solemnly a moment later.

...

"Hi, Dad," Kurt greeted, holding the phone to his ear with a shoulder.

"Hey, kiddo," Burt replied. "How are you?" Kurt finished hanging his uniform, and headed for his desk.

"I'm good. Just finished watching a movie with some of the guys." It wasn't late, but Kurt had found out that weekends at Dalton were usually low key. He sorted through the textbooks he would need for the weekend.

"We missed you at dinner," Burt said after a moment.

"I missed it too," Kurt said, setting down the latest book he'd picked up. He took the phone from between shoulder and cheek. "Did Carole cook? Or did you order something?"

"Carole cooked. And before you ask, she's been following your menu all week." Kurt smiled at his father's slightly disgruntled tone.

"The real question is, have you been eating what Carol's been cooking?" Kurt shot back. Burt's grumbled affirmative elicited amusement in the boy, but he kept his tone serious when he continued, "Good. I'll be checking with Carole too, just in case. And Cassius at the shop."

Burt didn't reply immediately, and Kurt worried he'd gone too far with his caretaking responsibilities. He was just about to say something when Burt spoke up.

"Every day, Kurt. Every day you remind me of your mother," the older man said somberly. "She used to call the shop everyday to make sure I ate what she packed for my lunch." Kurt couldn't find any words for a response, so he focused on breathing evenly for a few seconds. Burt cleared his throat to break the tension and said, "Anyway, I'm probably going to pay for this later, but I think you've got Carole beat in the kitchen."

"Burt's lucky I agree with him on that one," Carole said after a muffled sound passed through the phone. Kurt smiled at the easy transition between the two adults, and at the simple way the mood lightened.

"Hi, Carole," Kurt said, genuinely pleased to hear her.

"Your father's been trying to order pizza all week."

"Hey, only on Tuesday and Wednesday," Burt argued in the background.

"Only because I gave you the Kurt look," Carole shot back. Kurt chuckled at the exchange, making a mental note to ask Carole to show him this particular look when he got home. "He's much happier now that I made pizza tonight," Carole added, her tone triumphant. Burt muttered something in the background, which made Carole laugh and shoo him away.

"Thanks, Carole," Kurt said gratefully.

"Oh, honey, of course," Carole asserted sincerely. "Though you better pencil me in for a couple of hours on Sunday, I'm going to need some 'Kurt time.'"

"I can do that," Kurt said with a smile.

...

"Can I come in?" Kurt asked softly, having knocked on the doorjamb.

"Sure," Blaine answered easily from his position leaning against several pillows, comfortably dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. Kurt entered as Blaine set his book aside and folded his legs under him, making room. "You really don't have to ask," Blaine added as Kurt sat down. Kurt smiled softly at the other boy.

"Homework?" Kurt asked with a quirk of the eyebrow.

"Great way to spend the rest of your Friday night, huh?"

"Aren't the guys playing some kind of online RPG into the wee hours?"

"Not really my thing," Blaine answered, scrunching up his nose. Kurt nodded his agreement. "I'm sorry you didn't get a solo for Sectionals," Blaine said sincerely, a moment later.

"You already apologized. And it's not your fault." Kurt settled back against the wall and lent his head back before continuing, "Besides, it's going to be weird enough competing against New Directions without having a solo."

"I'm sure they're not mad."

"Hmm," Kurt half agreed, half doubted. The two sat in silence for several moments, Kurt staring idly at the opposite wall and Blaine watching Kurt.

"You okay?" Blaine asked gently. Kurt looked at the concern painted clearly across the other boy's face, and couldn't help feeling a little happy that he'd found Blaine.

"It's Friday," Kurt answered vaguely. Blaine tilted his head, still looking at him intently.

"Friday dinner," Blaine surmised. Kurt's eyes widened, surprised that the other boy would remember a detail he'd only ever mentioned in passing.

"Dad just called. He said they miss me, but they seem fine."

"And you don't believe him?" Blaine asked curiously. Kurt shook his head, then returned his gaze to the far wall.

"It's the first Friday dinner I've missed since my dad had the heart attack," Kurt admitted. He looked back at Blaine, eyes stinging with tears. "Right before the heart attack, we got into a fight about it. I wanted to go see Sing Along Sound of Music," Kurt revealed bitterly. "I promised him I wouldn't miss them anymore. And now, I'm going to be missing a lot of them."

Blaine didn't offer any words of comfort; instead, he shifted his position so that he was sitting next to Kurt, and laid a comforting hand on the other boy's knee. Kurt found the closeness and warmth infinitely more comforting.

Kurt let out a shaky sigh a moment later, and pressed his palms against his flannel-clad thighs in an effort to quell his emotions-he was tired of crying, had done so much of it the last few weeks. He tilted his head to look at Blaine, who eyed him cautiously.

"Have I said 'thank you'?" Kurt asked, his voice a little hoarse with residual emotion.

"For what?"

"For everything," Kurt replied significantly, gratefully. Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and smiled.

"Anytime, Kurt. Anytime."

...

"Kurt!" Rachel called out shrilly, her voice easily carrying over the buzz of conversation backstage. Kurt turned, finding himself tackled by the petite girl. "We won!" she exclaimed happily, releasing him and bouncing on her toes. Kurt smiled back, her enthusiasm contagious.

"Okay, quit hogging the boy," came Mercedes' authoritative words just before she appeared next to Rachel. All signs of her usual sassiness were hidden behind her hesitant smile, and Kurt's own grin faltered. "Hi, Kurt," Mercedes said sadly. The two looked at each other, unsure what to say.

A hand at Kurt's back pulled the boy out of the awkward moment, and when he looked back, Blaine was pushing him forward, silently mouthing 'go.' When Kurt turned back to the girls, Rachel had stepped back and tears were filling Mercedes' eyes. Any resentment he had slipped away. He pulled her into a hug and sighed happily when the girl wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did," Kurt said when they separated, though their arms hung loosely around each other.

"And I'm so sorry for not realizing something was up," Mercedes stated emphatically.

Kurt shook his head, saying, "I was lashing out at everyone and hiding it all at the same time. You couldn't have known."

"You're my best friend," Mercedes started. "I should have been paying better attention." Kurt slid his hands down Mercedes' arms and laced their fingers. He ducked his head, making sure he had the girl's attention.

"No one was paying attention," Kurt said softly. He refrained from adding 'except Rachel,' knowing it would only upset Mercedes more. "I was mad about that, and I might still be," he admitted, "but I also still love you." Kurt smiled bracingly, and was relieved when a small smile graced Mercedes' lips. He squeezed her hands and let go, just as he caught sight of the other members of New Directions gathering behind Mercedes and Rachel.

Greetings and congratulations were passed around, and Kurt realized that most of the Warblers had been hovering behind him. He and Blaine took turns introducing everyone, and numerous conversations broke out between the members of the two Glee Clubs.

The now comingling groups headed out the stage door and to the parking lot, where the McKinley bus was waiting. The Warblers bid farewell and headed off to their cars. Blaine lingered, giving Kurt a now familiar look.

"I'm okay," Kurt answered the silent question. Blaine assessed the other boy and nodded, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.

"Enjoy the rest of the weekend," Blaine said.

"I'll see you Monday," Kurt added as Blaine started walking backwards. The smile that lit Blaine's face elicited a chuckle from Kurt. With a final wave, Blaine turned and disappeared through the sea of cars.

"Hi, Kurt." Kurt turned at Mr. Schuester's greeting. "Do you need a ride back to Lima?" Kurt glanced at the bus, saw his friends had already boarded and seated. Brittany waved happily at him. He didn't spot Finn until he looked back at Mr. Schuester, spying the tall teenager behind the teacher.

"No," Kurt replied with an easy smile. "I have my car," he added when Mr. Schuester's concern didn't disappear. The older man laid a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"It's good to see you," Mr. Schuester said sincerely.

"Mr. Schue?" Finn spoke up. Both Kurt and the older man turned their attention to Finn. "Can I have a minute?"

Mr. Schuester nodded, squeezing Kurt's shoulder affectionately before letting go. With one last smile, the teacher stepped into the bus.

"Hi, Finn," Kurt prefaced as the other boy took his time stepping closer.

"This sucks," Finn lamented. Kurt chuckled at Finn's directness.

"It's a little weird," Kurt conceded. "You guys were good. You'll have to tell me how Sam and Quinn, and Santana, ended up with the solos." Finn scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Drama," Kurt added knowingly, smirk in place. "I miss that." Finn eyed him for a moment before both broke out in laughter. The bus roared to life.

"Must be my cue," Finn said regretfully. "I'll see you at home?"

"Yes, Finn." A smile flickered across Finn's face as he reached for the door handle.

"Will you make that fancy chicken and ham thing for dinner?"

"Really, Finn? You're asking me to cook?" Kurt asked, equally exasperated and amused.

"I'll help," Finn offered.

"I'll make it if you promise not to help," Kurt shot back.

"Deal."

"Get on the bus, Finn."

...

"Blaine, wait," Kurt called after the boy. Blaine immediately stopped and turned, coming back down the hallway. Kurt met him midway, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, holding Pavarotti's cage up.

"Was there something else?" Blaine asked as he glanced between Kurt and cage.

"It doesn't feel like a cage," Kurt answered, emphasizing each word.

"What?"

"You said Pavarotti 'seems to like his cage,'" Kurt elaborated. "You were really talking about me."

"I wasn't-," Blaine started, but Kurt cut him off with a wave of his hand. He set the cage on one of the many small tables that lined the walls, interspersed among a variety of armchairs.

"Except Dalton's not a cage," Kurt said, grabbing Blaine's hand and walking. Blaine followed, perplexed. They passed all the common rooms before Kurt spoke again, "I don't have to try to fit in, I already do."

"Of course you do," Blaine agreed, despite his confusion.

"And because I can be happy here," Kurt continued, barely letting Blaine finish his words. They reached the front doors and Kurt looked directly at Blaine. He smiled softly before revealing, "I am happy here."

"Kurt," Blaine said simply, his tone filled with amazement. Blaine couldn't help staring back at Kurt, mesmerized by the brightness in Kurt's eyes, the delight that danced across his entire expression, and the genuine smile that graced his lips.

"And you know what that feels like?" Kurt asked as he pushed the door open and pulled Blaine through, to the chilly, late autumn outdoors-cloudless and colored with all the shades of sunset. "It feels like the open sky."