It's been happening for only over a week now, but to Blaine, it feels like it's been months and months since he's slept through the night. Sometimes, when the sky is so dark it looks like it could swallow him whole, all he wants is to see the sun again. But in the middle of the night hours can stretch like days, and Blaine knows this better than anyone.

Nightmares are something he used to get as kid, that he used to wake up from screaming, crying, sweating, and shaking. And if you take away the screaming and the crying, not much has changed since then, really. Of course, he doesn't cry out for his parents anymore. He's twenty years old, for god's sake, and besides, the only person who can make him feel better is already there, is always there- sleeping soundly next to him. So there's no need to call for anyone, and it never occurred to Blaine, really, to wake Kurt up when things get really bad. Blaine isn't a kid anymore, after all. But more importantly, Kurt gets home later than Blaine does. He works harder than he does, and he needs his sleep more than he does. Kurt is a bit of a heavy sleeper, and if Blaine is quiet and careful enough, he can get up for a glass of water and slip back into bed undetected. It's like a game, actually, seeing how many nights this can go on for, except that there's no prize at the end except horror stories behind his eyelids and fatigue, fatigue, fatigue. It rarely happens twice in one night, and most of the time when he climbs back into bed, Kurt curls into him in his sleep and sighs a little, and that's all he needs to calm down just as much as he needs to.

He hopes that one day it will just go away, as if anything in the world is that simple.

The dream isn't always the same, but most of the time, it keeps a theme: he's hiding, he's running, he's trapped, and they're chasing him. Nameless, faceless demons who want nothing more than to push him to the floor, call him thosenames, and beat him, or crush him, or torture him, or burn him, or kill him. Whatever the reason, they want him gone. And they always find him, no matter where he hides or how hard he tries to fight back, because in his dreams he isn't the best at self-defense.

But this is not always the case. Sometimes they take on a completely different course. Sometimes he dreams about people he loves dying. He dreams of bottomless oceans and terminal illnesses and car accidents. Sometimes he dreams that Kurt is hurt and he can't help him no matter how hard he tries or what he does. Sometimes he dreams about losing the one person who is most important to him. Some nights it feels like a million and one terrible things can happen behind his eyelids before he finally wakes up and realizes that it's okay, he's okay, Kurt's okay, everyone is okay.

The eighth night isn't any different, really. But something seems different. Everything seems more real. The footsteps are louder and stronger and faster and the faces, even though he can't really see them, are angrier and uglier and they hate him more than they ever have. And when he's pushed to the floor he swears he can feel them, he can feel every kick and shove and he can feel the pain, oh god, and when he finally, finally, finally wakes up he shoots up in bed so fast that he gets dizzy, the world spinning in fuzzy circles around him.

He's sweating like it's 200 degrees out, but trembling like it's below zero. He's only wearing boxer-briefs but it feels like he's wearing layers and layers of winter coats. He kicks the sheets off him, his breathing coming too fast and not enough, never enough, and he doesn't even notice, at first, that Kurt is stirring next to him.

"Blaine?" Comes a sleepy voice (that Blaine would have found undeniably sexy under different circumstances), and Blaine's eyes go from tightly shut to wide open. It takes a few moments for Kurt to wake up a little and realize the abnormality of the situation; for one, that it's the middle of the night and his boyfriend is wide awake, sitting up, breathing heavily, shaking a little. And that this never happens, as least not as far as Kurt is concerned.

"Blaine?" there's urgency in Kurt's voice now, and he sits up, reaching to rest a hand on his boyfriend's bare shoulder. "Baby, you're shaking." His voice is safe and warm, urgent and concerned, comforting and familiar, but Blaine's just now getting used to the fact that he's here in the apartment he shares with Kurt, miles and miles away from his demons. He shrugs off the touch of Kurt's hand in favor of getting out of bed and disappearing down the hall and into the kitchen, crashing around in the cupboards because why is it so hard to find a goddamn cup in this fucking apartment.

When Kurt finds him a few moments later, chugging water from a wine glass, he stands in the doorframe, just watching him for a second. It's dark in the apartment but his eyes are beginning to adjust and the dim light from the refrigerator door silhouettes the older boy just enough. He's seen Blaine upset lots of times, sure, but never like this, and it's, well, it's scary, and he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's okay to do.

Blaine refills his glass twice before he sets it onto the counter with a clink that sounds much louder than it should have. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter tightly, and his breathing is finally evening out. He's still shaking, though, trembling in every part of his body but in his hands especially.

"Blaine?" Kurt calls out, and he doesn't miss the way the other boy stiffens. "It's just me," he says softly, crossing the length of the room to stand next to his boyfriend. He reaches out to touch his hand, and Blaine looks away- why, Kurt doesn't know.

The older boy places his hands on Blaine's shoulders and turns him, gently, to face him. He releases his death grip on the countertop.

"You should go back to sleep," Blaine says to the kitchen tile.

Kurt shakes his head. Going back to sleep right now would be one of the most ridiculous things he could possibly do.

"Blaine, honey... what's wrong?"

Blaine doesn't say anything. He just pulls Kurt into a hug, holding him as close as he possibly can. He rests his head on Kurt's shoulder, breathing in deeply. Kurt squeezes him back, and Blaine trembles against him in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that he's only in his underwear. This is the safest place he knows. This is the only place he knows.

"Come here," Kurt breathes, pulling away to take his hand and lead him to the living room. It's still dark but their apartment isn't the biggest one in the world, so navigating it in the darkness isn't too hard. Blaine sits down on the couch when he gets there, and Kurt kisses his forehead and whispers, "I'll be right back." He rushes to the linen closest and grabs the heaviest blanket he can find. He hands it to Blaine, who wraps it around himself immediately. He flicks on the lamp on the side table and sits down next to Blaine, squinting as his eyes adjust to the light. He rests his hand on his boyfriend's knee, running circles into it even though it's covered by the blanket.

"What's wrong, baby?" He tries again, this time in a whisper. Blaine has always been short, but right now he looks so small, in more ways than one. Kurt has noticed before that Blaine has a tendency to want to cover himself up as much as possible when he's upset. Right now is no exception.

There's a silence between them that stretches for just a beat too long, but then Blaine starts to talk and Kurt exhales a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"When I was little," Blaine begins, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself and speaking slowly and carefully, "I used to get these... nightmares. Monsters in the closet, you know... normal kid stuff. They went away for a while.
"But they came back. Freshman year, after, you know... They came back."
Kurt nods. He knows exactly what Blaine is talking about. That's one of the things he treasures the most about their relationship, that they just get each other.

"After I got detention for falling asleep in class a few times my parents found out... They tried to help me and it got better for a while but sometimes I still got them, you know? Get them, I mean. I still get them. And sometimes they can get really bad. Like tonight, I guess..."

Kurt is quiet for a moment, not knowing what to do to help Blaine. Blaine's head falls against Kurt's shoulder. He feels useless. If Blaine knew this he would tell him that all he needs to do is be there, just be there, that's all.

"So... this was your first one in a while, then?" Kurt asks, hopefully.

"...No." Blaine hesitates. He adjusts the blanket so that it's covering both of them now, so that he can feel Kurt's body heat. "This is actually the eighth night in a row, but this is the first one that's been this bad..."

"Eighth?! Blaine, you should have woke me up," Kurt tells him, concern edging its way into his voice again.

Blaine shrugs. "I can take care of myself. Besides, you need your sleep. You work so hard every day..."

Kurt rolls his eyes, finds Blaine's hand under the blanket, cuts him off. "It doesn't matter,, Blaine. You're always welcome to wake me up no matter what time it is or how much work I have to do the next day. I don't like knowing that... That anything is hurting you. That you're not sleeping well. I don't like it when you're upset." His free hand comes up to run through Blaine's hair absently.

"What are the dreams about?" He asks after a moment. "If you want to tell me, that is," he adds.

Blaine whispers. There is something about how quiet the world seems to be that makes him feel as though talking too loud is illegal. "People chasing me. Beating me. Attacking me. Killing me. Losing people I love... Losing you." His throat feels tight. His heart feels heavy.

Kurt straightens up so that Blaine is forced to move off of his shoulder, and they face each other, sort of.

"Blaine." He doesn't know what to say. He didn't know it was this bad, and now all he wants to do is somehow make all of this, every little bit, go away. Blaine's told him the stories, of course, and the look on his boyfriend's face when he talks about it- hell, the look on his face right now- it hurts just to look at him. Because the thought of anyone ever hurting Blaine, his Blaine, makes his blood boil. And knowing that it gets to him like this, makes him have nightmares and makes him flinch a little when Kurt hugs him from behind- it hurts.

"Look at me, boo." Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand. "Nobody is going to hurt you now. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever again, I promise that nobody is ever going to lay a finger on you, nobody is going to so much as touch you ...with the exception of myself, and I will always be gentle, always be loving, and I will never hurt you. And I'm not going anywhere, not anytime soon. Okay?"

"I know that," Blaine says, and he's doing that thing that he always does when he doesn't want to show how vulnerable he can be. He shifts down the couch so he can rest his head in Kurt's lap, closing his eyes at the feeling of the other boy running his fingers through his hair. "I just wish my head knew it too."

They spent a few minutes in silence. Nothing but Blaine leaning on Kurt, Kurt fussing with Blaine's hair. It's easy to fall into this, easy and familiar.

"You're okay?" Kurt whispers after a while, brushing a stray curl from Blaine's forehead.

"Yeah," Blaine promises, shifting to sit up. "Can we go back to bed?"

"If that's what you want." Kurt leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and they shuffle to get up. Kurt turns off the lamp and keeps a hand to Blaine's lower back so as not to lose him in the dark on their journey back to their bedroom, which isn't the most necessary thing to do, but whatever.

They crawl into bed, automatically curling into each other. Blaine has his head on Kurt's chest, Kurt has his arm around Blaine. Their fingers are twined together.

"Blaine?"

"Mmmm?"

"If it happens again... Don't hesitate to wake me up, okay? I want to be here for you. You're more important to me than sleep, honey."

"'Kay," Blaine yawns. "And... Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"...Could you sing to me?"
__________________________

His problem, of course, doesn't end there. He still gets nightmares and every now and then he'll wake Kurt up with his constant tossing and turning. Kurt knows when it gets really bad because that's when his boyfriend starts to call his name in his sleep. Sometimes, it's a murmur, a slurred mantra under his breath. Other times he shouts it so loud Kurt's sure the neighbors can hear, and Kurt has to pull him into a tight embrace and whisper nonsense into his ear until his eyelids flutter closed again. He's taken to researching about nightmares, what causes them, how to get rid of them. He's willing to try anything as long as he sees Blaine like that less and less.
But for now, singing him to sleep seems to be doing the trick.