They haven't spoken in exactly two hours and fifty seven minutes. Blaine counted. Now they're lying in bed, still not speaking, hurting in a way neither of them are familiar with and neither of them ever want to feel again.

It's a pain unlike any other, it's not the sharp sting of fist against skin or the hollow ache of a boy with no one to love him, it's the bitter mixture of disappointment, self-loathing and betrayal. It's a guilt that claws its way into your soul until you feel nothing but a nauseating self-hatred that is only made worse by the look of complete and utter agony on the face of the one person in this universe you actually love. It's the salty taste of tears mixed with the earth shattering realisation that you are unsalvageable.

Kurt has his back to Blaine, trying to hide the tears that are soaking his pillow, trying to hide the quiver of his lips, trying to hide the damage. This is the first time they've ever slept a whole night in bed together- apart from that fateful night of the Rachel Berry house party train wreck extravaganza- their parents never having allowed them to have sleepovers before, and this is certainly not how either of them expected it to go. They'd had big plans for this night- staying up until midnight, touching and kissing and making love to each without the fear of a parent catching them, telling each other every tiny detail they loved about them. Then they had planned to fall asleep, safe in each other's arms with the knowledge that this was what the rest of their lives had in store for them.

They had not expected this. This is the worst possibility you could think of and then some. It's like getting hit by a car and then being involved in an accident on the way to the hospital. It's like reaching the top of a mountain only to be thrown off the edge without a parachute. It's like loving someone so much it hurts and then realising that they've taken that love and ripped it up into a savage kind of confetti.

The silence hangs in the air like the time. It seems to have stopped in a vacuum of pain surrounding them. They stand precariously on either side of a high wire, pushed to the brink of heartbreak and held back by the certainty of denial. One wrong move and they could tumble into an abyss that even they can't claw their way out of. They long for something they're not sure was ever there to begin with, an ideal, a feeling, an idolisation of a boy who could do no wrong. They take a tentative step towards each other.

‘Hold me?' Kurt murmurs on the exhale of another shuddering breath, unsure whether he really wants Blaine to hear or not.  Blaine holds his breath, not sure if he heard right or was meant to hear right or really what Kurt's thinking at all.

‘Kurt' He breathes out, afraid that too much noise will shatter this tremulous calm they seem to have founded.

‘Please don't. Please don't talk to me, I don't want to speak to you and I don't want to look at you but... I don't- I can't... I need someone to hold me and you're the only one here and you're the only one who's made it better in the past so please. Just hold me.'

Blaine doesn't move, afraid to take another step down the path they are heading.

‘Please' and it isn't a question so Blaine doesn't answer.

 He shuffles closer, letting his arm hang above Kurt for a few seconds, like a tightrope about to break, then he wraps it securely around Kurt's body, letting it fall awkwardly around his chest and squeezing just a little tighter than he should. Kurt flinches at the touch, momentarily shying away before pushing himself back into Blaine's arms, sobbing silently.

Kurt hates himself, he hates Blaine more but he hates himself nonetheless, he hates that he needs Blaine to comfort him. It's weak. Coming from a boy who spent years dealing with pain on his own the fact that now he needs the person who has caused him all this pain to comfort him is sickening. He wants to scream and cry and push Blaine away, and tomorrow he probably will, but for now he'd just like to sleep and if the only way he can do that is with Blaine's arm around him then so be it. He deserves things he wants.

He still hates himself though.

They lie together, awkwardly in a way that is far more comforting than it should be, because Kurt can convince himself than he made the whole conversation up in his head and Blaine can convince himself that this means Kurt will forgive him and they can both pretend that just because they have their arms wrapped around each other everything is okay.

Blaine hopes with all his heart that Kurt falls asleep soon, not only because he can't bear the thought that Kurt is missing out on sleep because of him, but because he knows he's going to be awake all night and he's not sure he can take two broken sets of shuddering breaths in this impenetrable silence.

As it turns out Blaine falls asleep first, and for a while Kurt leans back against the safe set of arms enveloping him and pretends that this is the first night together they had hoped for. But all too soon Blaine's arm is gone and he's tossing and turning, whimpering lost apologies and empty promises and words so laced with guilt that Kurt can't stand being in the same room as them. He slips from the bed, unnoticed by Blaine in his restless frenzy, and tiptoes into the kitchen, deciding to wait until the morning to talk things out.

But when morning comes Blaine isn't the one to come slinking out of a bedroom like a thief in the night.

Finn interrupts his cycle of vicious thoughts first, and then in time so does Rachel. By the time Blaine stumbles up to Kurt- looking like a man trudging to the gallows- he doesn't have anything left to say. He's replayed this conversation too many times in his head, preparing for every turn it could take, and none of the possibilities end well. So he doesn't say anything.

After all, he'd made a promise he would never say goodbye.