Kurt has been uncharacteristically non-communicative today.

Of course, Kurt has been at the Vogue offices all day and Blaine at the theater, which are across town from one another, but that’s never stopped them from keeping in touch before. Even if Kurt can’t talk, he usually sends Blaine little messages of love and encouragement throughout the day. The least amount Blaine has ever gotten is three, and Kurt was away at the time, meeting with a designer in Milan. His cell phone service was patchy and his battery died twice, but he made it up to Blaine later with an extensive Skype session at bedtime.

Today, Blaine’s only gotten one message from Kurt - a single, short I love you, without any personalization, no emoji or pet name, which Kurt adds to all of his I love you texts. Kurt has texted Blaine in response to the normal, routine things, in confirmation of the daily tasks that Kurt assigns – a pic of every meal and snack Blaine eats, a photo of any new injuries he sustains during practice, and every time Blaine uses the restroom. But aside from that, Blaine hasn’t heard from him.

It could be that Blaine is spoiled by the attention he gets that he thinks Kurt’s lack of communication is unusual. Blaine shouldn’t expect the extras all of the time. But Blaine doesn’t think he’s that much of a brat. He isn’t pouting. Something about Kurt’s silence doesn’t sit right with him. Blaine knows Kurt so much better now than he did months ago. Kurt has always gone out of his way to let Blaine know how much he loves and appreciates him. Kurt has never been this detached, even in the beginning when they were first learning one another.

Kurt seemed so much stricter then than he does now, but that’s because Blaine didn’t 100% understand what he had gotten in to. Kurt is always upfront and honest when it comes to their relationship, even when it concerns things he thinks Blaine won’t like to hear. This isn’t worrying about them as a couple. It’s worrying about Kurt.

Blaine tries not to worry too much. Kurt has always said that that’s what he is there for – to manage Blaine’s worries. But if Blaine is worried about Kurt, who does he go to? The answer, of course, is Kurt. It’s a catch-22 that has his head spinning, but he has to approach this conundrum rationally.

What would Kurt say?

He would say that there are going to be off days. Blaine has his off days. Kurt is allowed to have them, too. And as long as Kurt hits all of the usual markers, then the extras don’t matter. They’re nice – of course, they’re nice. But they can be pushed aside if, say, Kurt runs late in a meeting, or he ends up at a last minute consultation, or a number of other completely probable things.

Being able to rationalize that in his head makes his worries easier to manage. Blaine is proud that he can sort it out from beginning to end alone and come up with a logical conclusion.

And yet, it’s not enough. His worries are about Kurt. Ultimately, Blaine needs Kurt to tell him for himself that everything’s okay.

As soon as rehearsals let out, Blaine bolts for the subway. He goes over his rationale one more time to stop his heart pounding in his chest. Everything’s fine. Kurt must have had a long day. He’s not acting all that unusual. In fact, he texted about ten minutes prior to acknowledge Blaine’s message that he’s on his way home. But that text is part of the reason why Blaine is running instead of walking.

Not because it was any different from Kurt’s normal acknowledgement texts. It was worded exactly the same as every evening check-in text Kurt has sent him since the first.

It’s the fact that it’s misspelled that started Blaine’s heart.

See you son instead of See you soon.

That isn’t like Kurt. That isn’t like Kurt at all.

Just as Blaine has quirks, and issues that he obsesses about, so does Kurt, and triple checking his texts and emails is one. He wouldn’t have sent a text with a misspelled word, not even to Blaine, and if he’d caught it after, he would have sent a follow up text correcting the error.

*soon

And Blaine waited for it. But when it didn’t arrive, Blaine grabbed his stuff and raced for the door.

It’s ten o’clock. On any other day, he’d make it to the loft at about 10:45. Kurt would have already eaten, leaving his dishes in the sink for Blaine to wash, and be in the shower, washing off the remains of the day. Blaine would come home, undress, put his clothes away, and kneel at the bathroom door to wait for his Master, making himself available to tend to his Master’s needs. Depending on what Kurt wanted (anything from a blow to being dried and dressed), Blaine would attend him. Then Blaine would be excused to eat his dinner, kneeling at his spot on the floor beside Kurt’s chair at the kitchen table. Afterwards, he would wrap up his evening chores and then join Kurt in bed.

Tonight, Blaine makes it home at 10:30.

The loft is dark. There are no dishes in the sink. The shower isn’t running. At first glance, it looks like the loft is empty, and Blaine considers the possibility that maybe Kurt hasn’t made it home yet. But he hears a breath – a muffled inhale from behind a hand … or a handkerchief.

Blaine walks in and closes the door.

“Sir?” he calls. The rules dictate that, when plans deviate from the norm, Blaine should undress, kneel at his spot on the floor, and wait for further instruction. But this is far from a deviation. This situation exists outside of the rules. So he’ll approach his Dom the same way he would any time he needs guidance, because he does need guidance.

He needs to know how he can help his Master. That’s something only Kurt can tell him.

Blaine finds Kurt sitting on the edge of their bed, staring at his phone. He doesn’t know if Kurt is waiting for a call, or if he’s just gotten off one, but he looks extremely distraught.

“Sir?” Blaine says, coming up beside him. “May I sit? Or do you want me to kneel?”

Kurt doesn’t answer out loud, but pats the seat beside him.

“Sir?” Blaine says, settling onto the mattress. “Is there something wrong?”

Kurt swipes a thumb over the screen of his phone. Blaine thinks Kurt might be locking it so Blaine can’t see, but the screen is black, moisture streaking the surface.

“My dad …” Kurt’s voice catches and Blaine knows it can’t be good “… he … he has cancer.”

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine didn’t mean to say anything. He definitely didn’t mean to call Kurt by his name, but he couldn’t help it. Of all the people in the world that Blaine knows, Kurt’s father just can’t ever seem to catch a break.

“He called me this morning to tell me,” Kurt explains. “He sounded happy. He said they found it early, and that that was … that was good. He was just waiting for some test results so they would know how to proceed. But about an hour ago, my stepmother called. They had to rush him to the emergency room. She didn’t have time to tell me why, and I …” Kurt shakes his head, slow and sluggish, stuck in a daze. “I don’t know what to do. I just … I don’t know …”

Blaine knows that’s not the case. He knows that Kurt will formulate a plan – get time off work, buy plane tickets, put on his brave face and go out there to see how his father’s doing, make sure he’s getting the best possible care. That’s a forgone conclusion. Because he’s done it before, too many times as far as Blaine’s concerned. Aside from their advancing age, Blaine’s mom and dad have been blessed with exceptional health. Blaine feels guilty over how much he’s never had to worry about them. But for Kurt’s dad, it’s a constant struggle, one that’s worsened lately. There have been more appointments than usual, more tests, more consultations, and Kurt couldn’t be present for any of them. Kurt feels so far away from his father, and today, that distance must have increased tenfold. For now, he’s lost. He’ll get there eventually, but sitting on this mattress, staring at his phone - the very instrument that can help him get what he wants, get to where he’s going - he doesn’t know how to begin.

Kurt’s mother died of cancer. Blaine knows. He’s been told the stories of the days leading up to her death – the phone calls in the middle of the night, the emergency room visits, the urgency, the fear.

Blaine can’t relate to how Kurt is feeling right now, but his heart is breaking for him. To be in danger of losing a second parent to a similar disease that took the first must be the realization of a nightmare.

Again, Blaine waits for Kurt to give him a command, to tell him how he can help him, but if Kurt doesn’t know how to get to the one person he wants to see more than anything, he probably doesn’t have it in him to give Blaine any sort of instructions.

“Sir?” Blaine says, voice even, calm. He doesn’t want it shaking, doesn’t want Kurt to think he needs comforting when it’s Kurt who needs the comfort. “May I hold you?” But even before the words are completely out of his mouth, Kurt nods and moves closer. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt, and Kurt falls against Blaine.

Blaine may not understand what it’s like to have someone he loves in the frightening position that Kurt’s father is in, but he knows this. Blaine has felt derailed before, absolutely cut off at the knees. He’s cried until he didn’t think there was a tear left in his body, and then he’s cried more. He remembers being a child, crying in his bed with his head in his pillow because he didn’t want his parents to hear; or in his first apartment in New York, alone because there was no one to hear. He remembers the way the pain would knot in his chest and make it impossible for him to breathe.

He remembers thinking that that was the end, there was no way things could get better. He’d feel like that forever, there was no way to fix it.

But then Blaine found Kurt. Kurt helps take that pain away.

No, he doesn’t exactly take it away, he teaches Blaine how to handle it. He proves to Blaine that Blaine’s bigger than the pain, stronger than the fear. When Blaine becomes anxious, overwhelmed, or scared, instead of surrendering to the pain, Blaine surrenders to Kurt. Kurt removes all that, and in the holes remaining he puts the things Blaine needs to stand up and keep going, the tools he needs to prevail – love, acceptance, patience, structure, rules, guidance. When Blaine’s been stripped down to his barest elements, exhausted beyond the brink, with just pieces of himself remaining, Kurt wraps his arms around him and holds him, cleans him up, sings to him, lavishes him with praise, and Blaine feels those pieces sew back together, sew over the holes to keep those tools in place.

Blaine is doing that for Kurt now – rocking Kurt in his arms, filling some of the remaining holes left by the loss of his mother, and new ones created by the fear that he’s about to lose his father. When Blaine hears Kurt’s breathing stumble, Blaine holds on tight. When he feels Kurt’s chest stutter, he holds on tighter. When Kurt can’t sit up straight any longer, Blaine cradles him against his chest and rests Kurt’s head over his heart. Blaine wraps his world around him and keeps him sheltered for a while. Because Blaine is Kurt’s safe space. Kurt gives Blaine security and structure, comfort and reassurance, but every so often, Blaine gets the chance to return the favor. And Blaine will keep Kurt safe for as long as he needs, until he has enough strength to move forward again.