It's the morning after the night before and the apartment was a desolate no mans land. The previous day had been a long and trying one, simply ‘a bad day' as they'd gotten into the habit of calling the 12 hours in which Blaine, vomited, cried, shook and screamed virtually simultaneously non-stop from dawn till dusk. It had been the worst day of Blaine's detox thus far and Kurt had barely had time to wonder between locking the door and hearing the unmistakable crash of a body hitting the floor, whether today would be the one to push Blaine back over the edge.

Thanks to the intervention of every deity that Kurt didn't believe in but could still think to pray to, equilibrium in Blaine's state was reached at around about 4 AM. Kurt stared unseeingly at the ceiling as Blaine did the same, breath slowing but still uneven as he trembled under twisted, sweat soaked sheets. All he could do was hold him tightly and when he tossed and turned during troubled dreams he only gripped him tighter, staying true to his promise to never let him go again.

Kurt hates himself for falling asleep. The sky is still an inky dark blue as he stirs. Three things occur to him in quick succession, it's still early, he had fallen asleep not long ago, and he was alone. He calls out but there's no answer, only his voice echoing futilely around the apartment. He listens for coughing, walking, heaving anything that tells him that he's still there but there's nothing. He rips back the sheets, calls out again, loudly, too loud in the deafeningly silent apartment. He trips, stumbles, braces himself on the door frame before searching the place from top to bottom, bathroom to balcony, the studio to the kitchen.

Blaine's gone. Kurt's blood runs cold and he sprints back to the bedroom, checks the bedside table for the key when he realises that he wore it around his neck that night, fearful that the nightstand was too accessible. His hands fly up to the chain around his throat that he knows isn't there; he could already feel the absence of the metal links, warmed by his skin. Its absence leaves him empty, aching with the knowledge that he'd failed Blaine, that he couldn't keep him safe, protected and out of the reach of his demons.

Tears blurring his vision he pulls clothes on, sweats and Blaine's favourite red sweater, a coat, boots, anything warm that came to hand easily and quickly. Blaine's clothes are scattered about the bedroom, indicating he'd gotten dressed blind and uncaring of the cold or of decency. His phone sat on the nightstand, no calls or messages the same as Kurt's. Kurt grabs his phone, Blaine's coat, a sweater, a scarf and runs from the building.

~*~

"Cooper help I-"

"Kurt! Kurt! What is it what's going on?

"Blaine had a bad day and we locked in but he must've taken the key while I was sleeping because he's gone, he's gone and I don't know where he is and I'm so scared Coop what if he-"

"Shit, shit! Okay Kurt just you're okay, try and stay calm for me he wouldn't have gone far, have you- have you checked?"

"Checked what? Coop, please are you coming?"

"I'm on my way," Cooper says panting as he knocks frantically on his neighbours door with a sleeping Arabella resting unawares in his arms "You need to check Anstein Street okay? That's where- that's where he-"

"That's where the den is." Kurt shudders, eyes squeezing shut as he remembers everything Blaine has told him about the place.

~*~

Honesty came in steps. First came Blaine's past and then came Blaine's recent past. It had started in the clubs but Blaine spiralled needing a bigger hit with every fix and eventually he wound up broke, begging for just a couple of grams outside the den. He told the story with bitter detachment as if he wasn't talking about his own experiences or even himself for that matter. He told of how Evan had dragged him off the street and inside, past rooms filled with smoke and stilted laughter, sex and violence and voices too loud and too harsh, seeping from the walls and spreading like blood across a bathroom floor. He followed; eyes on the floor, as he dragged his feet up the stairs and came to a startling stop when Evan showed him into a room. It was quiet as the door closed yet Blaine could barely breathe.

Evan kissed him, hard and claiming and Blaine stayed motionless. He let himself be kissed, be touched and Evan stayed true to his promise. Blaine curled up in a rickety bed afterwards, arm outstretched as Evan helped him shoot up.

He dressed quickly once Evan had passed out, unwilling to stay there a second longer; he tugged his jacket tight around him as he tried not to wince with every step he took. Tears burned behind his eyes and bile flooded his throat. He was cornered three times by men with sneering faces and bloodshot eyes, whispering disgusting things into his ear and thrusting hundreds into his hands. He saw an opportunity and he took it. He unzipped his jacket, swayed his hips and put on a smile, whispered something about ‘making the rounds' and before they could do anything more took the money and ran.

He never went directly to Evan again, never gave himself for a fix again, never looked a man in the eye again. He got a job, studied hard, spent time with his niece and the desperation, the itch dimmed slightly, but it still remained; ever present. He cut all ties to the den after his first attempt at getting clean and only returned once during his first relapse. All his hard work to right his wrongs, set himself free, left him with a reputation not even the purest of deeds could scrub clean. He was notorious, just the star of gossip and rumour mills, never just a person, just human. He was the centre of attention in bars and clubs, whispers circling as he danced from those who knew his name. Those who didn't never learnt it, or at least never bothered to.

~*~

Anistein Street wasn't far and Kurt ran all the way there. Its cold and the wind bites at his skin making the tears that blur his vision stream cold. He rounds the last corner, and stops dead. It's dark, the neighbourhood is bustling. People stagger and saunter across the road, swarming, drunk and delirious. Faceless, all are faceless as they stumble pass, yelling obscenities to no one in particular, just the freezing early morning air. He's shoved and pushed and threatened as he makes his way further only daring to make eye contact long enough to determine the identity of each ‘not Blaine'.

Streetlights flicker on and off, the dim light they emit casting grim shadows down the street. The road is lined with buildings, all indistinguishable in varying states of disrepair. Windows are boarded up and Kurt hears another smash, his fingers itching for his phone. Each building seems to feature a darkened alcove and he looks to each one expecting to find him there, curled in a doorway, limp and lifeless.

Cooper finds him hiding in the entrance to an alleyway as a group of men saunter past, spitting profanities into the gutter from whence they came and jeering at the women standing shivering on the single street corner. They walk quickly searching every alcove and alley. "It's the third door down." Cooper admits, voice shaking. His steely eyes are wide and terrified with the knowledge that if they don't find Blaine alive and on the streets, he'll be inside the lion's den, dead.

"He's not there" Kurt says adamantly. "But Kurt..."

"He's not there I know okay I just know." They slow to a stop in the middle of the street, cars and city sounds drowned out by the beat of their hearts. There's a sob and Kurt doesn't have to turn around to know it's Cooper, hands gripped tight in his hair as he chokes on every other breath. It's the first time Kurt has seen him cry, even through everything, it's the first time Kurt has seen Cooper so much as shed a tear. He crushes him to him in a hug, holds him tight and grips him like he's his only hope. Cooper falls into him, hot tears soaking Kurt's neck and turning cold in the frigid air. "We-we'll find him," he stutters, desperately holding back his own sobs "and even if, even if he's back it's okay, it's okay because we haven't failed, it's just a step back j-just a step back."

"I don't know h-how much longer I can d-do this." Cooper whispers, scared and ashamed and broken.

~*~

They call his name as they venture further down the street, uncaring of those who stare and sneer as they pass by. As they near the third door down they become frantic, they can see it, the building that looks just the same as every other but holds such fear and desperation they can barely breathe with it. Kurt screams his name over and over, until his voice is hoarse and by the time he nears the stoop of the third door down it's barely a whisper.

"Kurt?" A cracked voice whispers back. Kurt looks down, and there huddled on the door step is Blaine, pale skin and blue lips, shivering. He can barely keep his eyes open, but Kurt can still see a bright, clear flash of hazel every time he manages to blink them open. "Kurt, Kurt, I'm s-so sorry I left I didn't know what to do it just hurt so much I'm sorry so so sorry Kurt please I-" Blaine mutters desperately as Kurt drops to his knees, enveloping him in his arms as they both break down. Kurt's shaking hands stroke and pet at every part of Blaine he can reach. "It's okay, you're okay" he whispers as Blaine explains in fragmented stutters how he'd barely registered where he was going and wound up on the doorstep before he could even think of what direction to start walking. The den had been boarded up when he got there, door locked and no sign of life coming from inside. He was unsurprised, the raid at The Mist was probably more than enough to force Evan to relocate and set up business elsewhere.

When Kurt pulls back, Blaine lets out a pitiful whine, wincing as the pounding in his head starts again with vigour. Cooper scurries forward, hastily wiping at his eyes as he drops down in front of his brother. He plants a kiss on Blaine's forehead. "I love you little B."

"I love you too Coop." Blaine chokes out, tears falling fast and hot. Kurt scrambles for the bag he'd brought along and tugs Blaine's sluggish limbs into the clothes he'd grabbed. He and Cooper wrap him up tenderly, helping him up on unsteady feet. They grip him tight, guiding him to the car as Blaine's frame shakes with every step.

~*~

It takes a long time but they finally make it. They stay with Blaine for a little while, watching over him until he has the presence of mind to roll his eyes and tell them to leave because he wants to sleep. Cooper leaves, with one last look at Kurt and Blaine, wrapped around each other and sleeping soundly as the sunlight pours in through the miniscule gap between the curtains. He slips from the apartment quietly, locking the door and hanging the key safely on the chain around his neck.