The cup shattered into more than a few sharp and imperfect pieces as it slammed into the wall across the room. Taking only a moment to observe the damage he'd done, and realizing that throwing the cup hadn't helped alleviate the agony he was feeling, he picked up another one and threw it as hard as he could. The sound was more satisfying than anything, and he picked up a third item and chucked it. And another one. He turned wildly, looking for something else to throw. He crashed whatever he could to the floor, shattering it.

"Kurt?" came a worried voice from the door to his room.

He didn't grace the person at the door with even a cursory glance as he picked up the next object, a glass picture frame, and reached back to throw it.

He jerked as arms reached out to stop him.

"Kurt what are you doing? Look what you've done, there must be hundreds of little pieces of glass on the ground."

Kurt didn't respond, but struggled, whining like a wounded animal, trying to break free.

"Wes! Get Blaine!"

The other boy stood at the door was looking vaguely disturbed, but turned to do what he was bid.

"Kurt, Kurt! Can you hear me? Its David, I've got you. Are you all right?"

Not being able to break free, Kurt just slumped boneless and the other boy had to act quickly to stop him from crashing to the floor.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall made David look up. "Thank God, Blaine, he was just breaking whatever he could get his hands on, and he wont say a word to me."

The naturally composed boy was looking particularly worried. He stepped forward, reaching around David to the bed, where he had set Kurt, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt?" he asked timidly.

Kurt was currently staring at the ceiling, but upon hearing the familiar voice, he flicked his eyes to Blaine and met the concerned gaze. To Blaine's horror, the boy's eyes lacked the typical mischievous shine that he was used to.

"Kurt, what's wrong? What do you need? Can I get you something? Should I call your dad?"

It was like a dam broke in Kurt and he burst into tears and curled in on himself. Blaine looked at a loss for what to do. He shot his best friends a look and glanced around at the other boys who had started to gather curiously, and he said, "Get them out of here," before turning back to Kurt.
Wes and David continued to look concerned, but did as he asked, ushering the others out.

He sat down on the bed next to the constricted form, and gently pulled him up into an engulfing hug. He rubbed one arm up and down his back, and hummed softly to him.

As the sobs slowly receded, he pulled back slightly and looked at Kurt again, pulling his face up so he could see him. What he saw nearly broke his heart.

"Oh Kurt," he murmured, gently wiping the trail of tears away from his red rimmed eyes, "I hate it when you cry."

Taking a deep shuddering breath Kurt finally met his friend's eyes, "S-sorry," he managed to choke out. "I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean to do so much damage. I just sort of lost it."

He tried to look back down, and Blaine caught his chin. "Hey, you know you can tell me what's wrong right?"

Kurt closed his eyes and finally pulled away, and Blaine let him, understanding that he needed space.

He brought up a hand to wipe his face, "God, I must look terrible," he said miserably.

Blaine gave him a warm smile and looked him directly in the eyes, "Hey, I don't think you could ever look terrible."

It was the friends-only version of what he wanted to say. What he really wanted to tell Kurt was that he would be beautiful no matter if his hair was a mess and his face was tear stained or if everything was perfectly kempt the way he always kept it.

This was a typical moment for Blaine; censoring the words that came out of his mouth. Ever since Kurt had moved to Dalton, there had been this giant…thing between them. He knew what it was; he had feelings deeper than friendship for Kurt, and he was pretty sure Kurt felt the same way. But something always held him back. He was never sure what it was, but he really wished that whatever it was, he would just get over it.

Kurt let out another shuddering breath, it was all he could manage, and gave Blaine a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks."

Blaine sat quietly, waiting. Kurt would open up to him when he was ready.

When the moment did come, Blaine was surprised at its bluntness.
"My father has cancer."

Blaine didn't know what to say. He knew that Kurt's father meant everything to him, and he could not imagine living without his own father. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, willing himself to come up with something, anything that might help Kurt feel a little bit better. He came up blank.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to get out, reaching an arm out to clasp Kurt's shoulder gently.

"It's not fair," he whispered, looking down at his hands, "he's been through so much. He can't die."

Kurt looked up at Blaine, searching for some kind of confirmation that couldn't be given. Instead Blaine did the only thing he could think of, he opened his arms and allowed Kurt to crawl into them, and he slowly rocked him in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine repeated softly to Kurt, running a hand through the boy's soft brown hair.

Kurt shivered in his grasp, and Blaine instinctively tightened his hold on him.

"I should go home now," Kurt murmured into Blaine's shoulder, "Dad told me not to. Told me that they're still running tests and that nothings sure and that he's not going to die right now or even tomorrow, and that I could come home in the morning when I've had some sleep. But…"

"Just close you're eyes," Blaine interrupted gently, "close your eyes and go to sleep. We'll drive out to Lima tomorrow so you can see your family."

Kurt couldn't find it in him to protest, his exhausted body was already shutting down so that he could regain the strength he needed to carry on.
Blaine shifted as best he could so that they were both completely on the bed and Kurt was stretched out in his arms. He floundered around trying to reach the blanket to cover Kurt, but another hand reached out in front of him and grabbed it, gently pulling it up over both of them, shifting the pillows for Blaine so that he was comfortable too.

He looked up to see Wes before him, smiling grimly, and he mouthed a thank you to his friend.

The boy nodded, and turned away, pausing only momentarily to look at the two worriedly one last time, before flipping out the lights.

In the darkness Blaine continued to run a comforting hand down the slender back. Whatever their relationship was, Blaine knew that he would be there for Kurt, through this, and everything. They would figure it out one way or another. For now, he allowed himself to drift off into a fitful sleep; they would worry about tomorrow when it came.