Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Fox.

"Hey you."

Kurt looked up and saw Blaine holding himself up with one hand pressed against the locker.

"Well, aren't you a sight for the sore eyes?"

Both of them looked at each other and smiled for a moment before Kurt turned away and chuckled.

"So, are you going to start serenading to me at the stairs?"

"I wasn't serenading to you. I was trying to ease my way into the New Directions, remember?"

Kurt gave him the look. It was the I-don't-believe-a-word-you-say look and Blaine finally admitted, "Okay, maybe I was. But that was completely unintentional. I couldn't ignore the way you were looking at me throughout the entire performance."

Kurt folded his arms and leaned against his locker and raised an eyebrow.

Blaine straightened himself and gulped, playing with the corner of his lapel.

"It has been a little more than three months."

Kurt stilled. Oh God.

"You know…since we last got a little more intimate."

Kurt exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding.

"Blaine, I was worried that we…you…might not feel comfortable after that…assault."

There was a moment of silence, but Kurt could see the gears in Blaine's head turn as he tried to come up with something to say.

Blaine finally stuttered, "I think…I think I'm ready. I mean…if you're comfortable with it as well."

He could see it. Kurt could see the look of absolute love and adoration in Blaine's eyes, and he completely forgot about the scars that now extended throughout his torso. After the attack, most of the student body stayed away from Kurt and Blaine, afraid to face the wrath of Burt Hummel and the rest of the Glee club if they did anything to hurt them, so Kurt raised a hand and touched Blaine's face before joining their lips.

When they broke apart, Blaine wound his arms around Kurt's neck and brushed their cheeks together.

No words were needed. Blaine had gotten his answer.

Kurt found himself at Blaine's place after school. Mr and Mrs Anderson weren't home again ("They should be coming back the day after tomorrow"), so the house was theirs.

Kurt had insisted on hopping into the shower first (alone) because he felt "sticky and disgusting". He was soon standing in the showers, unbuttoning his shirt.

When he reached the third button, he stopped.

He spent the day in a state of such euphoria that he completely forgot about the things he had been doing to help him deal with whatever he needed to deal with (At this point, he no longer knew what had gone wrong).

There were a hundred tracks representing a hundred times when he felt revolting, stupid, desperate, and hopeless.

His hands were trembling as he struggled to button his shirt. He couldn't do this, he simply couldn't.

Blaine will hate me. He'll hate me. I should be dead. What am I doing here? I messed up. I can't mess him up.

He opened the bathroom door, moving upstairs to the bedroom with a strange sluggishness where Blaine was waiting nervously.

When he saw Kurt's tear-stained face, Blaine shot up immediately. Taking the shaking boy in his arms, Blaine lowered them onto the wooden floor.

"Hush…it's okay…Kurt…it's okay…"

Blaine repeated this like a mantra while rubbing his boyfriend's back in an attempt to soothe him.

When Kurt finally pulled away and dried his face, Blaine looked absolutely devastated.


"Kurt, I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea that you were not ready. I'm sorry. I assumed that you would be fine. I'm sorry I didn't notice how badly it affected you. I'm sorry that I've been so selfish. I'm just…I'm sorry."

I messed up again. I hurt him. I hurt Blaine.

Standing up abruptly, Kurt grabbed his messenger bag.


Giving Blaine one last look, Kurt shook his head and pleaded, "Blaine, please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. It was never your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

He rushed out the door and threw the car door open before slamming it close after he slid into the driver's seat.

This was it. He messed everything up. He had ruined everything with the one person who managed to remain perfect despite all the chaos.

I hurt him.

With tears blurring his vision and shaky breaths, Kurt pulled away from the driveway.

Upon reaching home, Kurt ascended the stairs and kicked his shoes off at his bedroom door. He did not bother to arrange them neatly and left one lying on its side.

After locking the door behind him, Kurt buried himself under the covers. Tears just kept spilling out, and he struggled to breathe.

Why am I crying? Where are these tears coming from?

Kurt could hear the phone ringing from his bag that he had thrown on the floor, but all the strength had left his limbs. The phone could keep ringing for all he cared; he wasn't going to answer it.

Come on. Get up and go to the bathroom. Everything ends there.

Kurt knew that he should act quickly; there was less than two hours before the others returned. He could pretend to be taking a long bath, so there was about two hours and forty-five minutes left for the pills to work, for the pills to kill him.

But he was exhausted. Even the thought of finally getting some order in his life could not make him lift his heavy body up and make its way to the bathroom opposite the stairs.

He closed his eyes, listening to the incessant ringing of their recording of Perfect coming from the phone. It was oddly soothing. Maybe he could get some peace tonight.

Kurt drifted in a haze for a while before the pounding of the door broke him out of his reverie.

"Kurt? Kurt?" The unmistakable voice of Burt Hummel was muffled by the wooden door.

Stealing a glance at the clock, Kurt realised that it was only five. It was much too early for his dad to be home. Grabbing the pillow, Kurt pressed it over his head as he laid face-down on the bed, trying to block out the noise.

"If you don't open the door right now, I'm banging it down! Kurt? Can you hear me?"

Opening his eyes with extreme reluctance, Kurt bit back a groan. Why couldn't his father understand that he was tired?

"I'm coming!"

The pounding at the door, his father's anxious cries and the ringing of the phone were giving him a headache. Pushing himself off the bed, Kurt stumbled across the room.

As soon as he opened it, Burt grabbed his face and tilted it from side to side, inspecting every inch carefully.

"What are you-?"

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Burt finally let go off his face and was glaring at Kurt, trying to slow his hammering heart by taking deep breaths. Kurt was stunned. It had been ages since his dad last yelled at him. Taking a step back, Kurt began to move away; Burt was scaring him.

"Kurt…I…" Rubbing his eyes, Burt sighed as a wave of despair washed over him. The last thing he wanted was for his son to fear him.

"Look, Buddy. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that…The night I received the phone call from the hospital telling me that my son and his boyfriend were beaten up is still fresh in my mind, and then Blaine called to say that you suddenly took off. You've…You've got to stop scaring me, Kid."

There it was again. It was the tone of defeat that Kurt now heard so frequently. He disappointed everybody.

"I'm sorry. Dad, I'm really sorry."

"Son, I'm not blaming you, but you have to understand that I can't keep doing this. I can't live in constant fear of losing you. I mean, after finding the letter telling me that you were prepared to…to leave everything behind, I-"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kurt's eyes widened and his head snapped towards the door.

Blaine was standing there, breathing deeply as beads of sweat began making their way down his temple.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

No one said a word, but no words were required. It was obvious.

"You…You wanted to die?"

Kurt said that three lettered word so often, but somehow, when it came from Blaine's mouth, it killed him.

The three of them were seated on the couch in stifling silence. It made Kurt remember that night those fingers tried to squeeze the life out of him by wrapping themselves around his neck, and he was about to be sick.


Kurt lifted his head to look at Blaine whose beautiful hazel eyes that should always be filled with warmth and happiness were now glistening with unshed tears.

And I'm the cause of it.

It was such a simple and innocent question. Why did Kurt feel such a need to end everything? He thought for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. There was none.

"I don't know. I don't think I wanted to die; I just didn't see the point of living."

He saw his father and boyfriend exchange a look, but couldn't bring himself to care. Silence descended once more before Burt finally said "I think we should seek professional help."

As much as he hated it, Kurt knew that his dad was right. Things were going out of control.

What are you talking about? You've lost control over everything ages ago.

The screen on his phone lit up, breaking through the darkness that engulfed the room.

BA: Kurt? Do you want to talk?

Kurt read the message twice before locking it without giving a reply. He had just returned from his second visit to the counsellor, and hasn't spoken to anyone since. He knew that everyone was worried about him, and while Kurt did feel bad about it, he wanted to be left alone.

Yet now, lying in the darkness, it began to feel a little lonely.

Unlocking his phone, he replied:

Yeah, alright.

The phone began buzzing and Blaine Warbler appeared on the screen. Pressing the green 'answer' button, Kurt brought it to his ear. Almost immediately, he was greeted by Blaine's warm voice; the voice that he did not realise just how much he was missing.

"Kurt? What are you doing now?"

Smiling at the ceiling, Kurt felt his heart melt at his boyfriend's thoughtfulness. He did not want to start a conversation by answering the generic 'how did it go?'

"I'm just lying on bed while staring at the ceiling."

"Strange. I'm doing the exact same thing. But I'm also thinking."

"You can't just leave me hanging there, Anderson."

"You're using my last name now, huh? I'm just thinking about you."

Heat crept into Kurt's cheeks. It was not the first time they've had a late night conversation; they've been talking into the early hours of the morning six times a week since they started going out back at Dalton, yet Blaine still made the butterflies in Kurt's stomach flutter.

"And you said that you were terrible at romance."

"I still am. I'm just saying anything that crosses my mind."

There was a pause as both of them lay in silence, listening to each other's even breathing over the phone.

"Okay. I have to ask. What did she say? Do you want me to accompany you for the next visit?"

"Not much. It started off with the usual question of 'how are you feeling today?' We talked a little…prescribed me antidepressants and told me to look at different options for the future. Then Dad came home and he went through a whole list of colleges in New York in Finn's bedroom. You should have seen him. He was completely hopeless when he tried to get more information from the internet."

Blaine laughed, "He's an amazing father."

"I know. I'm…really lucky to have him. I'm really lucky to have all of you."

"Did you look for colleges that focused on fashion as well? I remember how you tried to modify the blazer."

"Honey, the Dalton blazer makes everyone look like carbon copies of each other. We did that yesterday. We were looking at Parsons. Apparently, Marc Jacobs is a Parson's graduate. But there's also FIT and many more."

Kurt paused. They were right. While he knew that NYADA was not the only college in New York, he'd never considered other options, and now it seemed like there were so many to choose from. NYADA would be his first choice, but even if his application is unsuccessful, there're still many paths to take.

"The three of us can spend the weekend looking through other alternatives. You'll do well in whatever college you study in."

"I know. I'm fabulous, remember?"

There it was again: That laughter that was so distinctively Blaine. How long has it been since they teased each other like that? How long has it been since they sat together and had a good laugh?

"Kurt? I…I know that you're…ashamed of the scars on your chest, but there's nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful and you always will be. Those scars are part of you, Kurt, a part of the struggles you've been through, and a part of the difficulties in life you'll triumph over."

"Blaine…I…Thank you."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you too."



"Everything will be okay. It has to be, because you and I will make it together."

Kurt drew a sharp breath as tears pricked his eyes. Honestly, he felt hopeless when he tried to face everything alone. But maybe, just maybe, with Blaine by his side, things might actually get better. It may never be perfect, but things could be better.


"I'm listening."

"Thank you. I…I really, really love you."

Thank you for picking me up when I fell.

Thank you for holding me.

"You're amazing Kurt, never belief otherwise."

Thank you for taking my breath away.

Warning: Long A/N

First off, thank you so much for reading and to miss jayne76, It'sNotUnusual, suchagleekx and colfermentalhead for reviewing!

To It'sNotUnusual: Thank you! I am writing another ff now and it's longer than this. Hopefully much longer (I felt that this was a little short). And I'm sorry about the grammatical errors XD Thanks for being so understanding. (As a side note, I'm reading your ff Klexting and it's adorable. I look forward to future updates!)

Here's the prompt from GAM (it's long):

He's going to go on one last date with Blaine to see his favorite musical. They're going to kiss, and it's going to be lovely. He's going to text Mercedes apologizing for their argument, text Rachel and tell her to go for her dream, write his dad a note, apologizing for leaving like his mom did; then, he's going to die.

He doesn't expect to be assaulted outside of the theatre, beaten and left for dead. At first, he thinks it'll all work out. He gets his wish. But he looks at Blaine and sees that he's so much worse, and it doesn't matter how much he wants to die - he can't let Blaine get hurt.

They live. The assailants are on trial. Kurt will never regret what he did that night, but he still wants to die. Blaine finds out after the entire ordeal is over, though, and makes sure that Kurt will never, ever feel like that again.

Bonus for self-harmer Kurt.

I didn't post it earlier because it basically outlines the entire story. I'm sorry for not elaborating on Kurt's therapy. I wanted to highlight the fact that Blaine was the main factor for Kurt's recovery but now that I read it, it appears a little rushed towards the end. I'll try to do a better job in future ffs.

Once again, thank you! Sorry for the long A/N.