"Listen, bud, Kurt's not doing too well. This whole Dave Karofsky thing has him pretty beaten up. He won't talk to me about it. You know, Kurt, stubborn as always. I just—I need to be sure that he's okay and he's not going to do anything stupid, you know?"

"Of course, Burt."

"Anyway, like I said, he won't say a thing to me. He just comes home from school and locks himself in his bedroom, 'won't even talk to Finn. What I'm getting at, Blaine, is that I would really appreciate it if you would stop by and help him out. I think we both know that he'll open up to you, he always has. Would you mind?"

"Not at all, I've been a bit concerned about him myself. I'll be over there as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Blaine. You're a good kid."

"Don't mention it, Burt. I'll see you soon."

I hung up my phone and paced around my room, trying to clear my mind. I knew something was up with Kurt; I just didn't want to make him uncomfortable by pressing for him to talk about it. But, God, his eyes were breaking my heart. Ever since the incident his eyes carried constant unshed tears and red rims, something inside of them looked so hopeless and alone. The more I thought about it, the more I began to beat myself up over allowing him to feel that way. I'm his boyfriend, isn't it my job to make sure he feels safe and loved?

I raced out of the house and threw myself into my car, making it to the Hummel-Hudson residence in just under twenty-five minutes. I adjusted my sweater and coat before exiting the car, locking it on my out. I knocked on the door once; Burt appeared at the threshold a second later.

"Blaine, I told you that it's alright for you to just come in. There's no need to knock."

"Right, sorry Burt. I'll try to remember next time."

Burt nodded and cracked half of smile, "Alright, come on in. He's in his room."

I smiled graciously at Burt before descending for the stairs, bolting up them a bit too anxiously. I just couldn't help it though; the idea of Kurt being isolated and upset in his room was killing me. As I approached Kurt's door I heard the echo of soft cries, with each one I felt an ache ripple through my chest. Come on, Blaine. Get in there and help him, before he just makes himself any more upset than he already has.

I rapped my knuckles against the door twice—no response. Unable to be patient anymore, I turned the door knob and walked in. The sight before me was devastating.

Kurt was curled up on his side, laying on his bed and facing the window on the opposite wall. I could see his form shaking with each whimper he let loose, and I wanted to do nothing more than just engulf him in my arms and kiss his head over and over again.

"Hey," I greeted gently, not wanting to startle him. I assumed he hadn't heard the creaking over the door over his cries and his thoughts.

"Hi," his voice was barely above a whisper, and it wasn't hard to tell that he was trying to put himself together for my sake. Kurt always had to try to be strong. I could tell that this wasn't going to be easy, so I shrugged off my coat and folded it over his desk chair, prepared to speak again when he beat me to it.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt still hadn't moved, not even to steal a glance at me, and I could guess that it was to hide his puffy eyes, no matter how many times I had seen him cry, he never got comfortable with it.

"Your dad called me," I sighed, shifting on my feet, "He's worried about you." Kurt let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "I'm worried about you too, Kurt."

"I'm fine."

His words were hollow and easy to see through, I couldn't contain my frustration. "No, you're not Kurt." I said sternly.

When Kurt didn't reply, I shook my head to clear my mind and swallowed harshly. I moved closer and took a seat on the bed, a few inches away from him.

"You and I, we've always been truthful with each other, Kurt. So, I'm going to be honest with you," I started, "I'm kind of shaken up over this whole ordeal, and I could really use my boyfriend right now," I tried to keep his voice steady, failing multiple times. "I know you could really use yours too."

Kurt finally turned around; his eyes meeting mine, when they did a fresh batch of tears trailed their way down his face. "You can talk to me," I encouraged, "You've never closed yourself up on me, we've always talked about everything… don't start getting shy around me now, Kurt." I could sense he was starting to loosen up, so I kept going.

"I know you, Kurt. I know that you keep all of your emotions bottled up until you explode. It's not healthy, and I want you to just let it all out before you reach that point. I'm not going to judge you; you know that, don't you?"

His lack of response worried me, and I got nervous. "Kurt, no matter what you have to say, no matter what you're feeling… it's not going to change the way I feel about you, or how I look at you. Please, just tell me you know that about me."

"I do."

I smiled, even if it was just a whisper, it was progress. I crawled up to the headboard and sat next to him, allowing him to curl up next to me, which he did. I ran a hand up his back and pressed soothing circles.

"I'm responsible."

Quinn had pulled me aside and told me about what Kurt said that he felt like he was responsible. She told me he didn't go into great detail, but that she thought I should know.

"No, you're not, Kurt. Why would you ever think that?"

"I rejected him… I pushed him aside and made him feel worthless. God, I was his Finn. He went through so much to try to get me to feel something towards him, he sent me all of those cards and Valentine's Day gifts, and I just told him no."

"Kurt, you have a boyfriend. There's nothing you could do. Even if I wasn't around, I don't see you ever being with him. It's up to you to make that decision, on whether you reciprocate those feelings but… I don't know he doesn't seem your type to me."

I worked up the courage then to ask him a daring question, "If I wasn't in the picture… would you have said yes?"

I found myself shaking internally. The very idea of Kurt not being in my life bothered me beyond belief. Kurt was everything to me, I loved him, and even though it was a hypothetical, his answer still scared me. If he said yes, everything would change to me. Then I would have to start worrying about Kurt running off with Dave Karofsky, forgetting all about me. I knew it was a selfish thought, but I simply couldn't shake it.

"No, I would have said no either way… just because he apologized, I still couldn't ever see myself being with him in that way. He's sweet, he's really sweet and kind, and I forgive him… but being with him would just trigger so many negative memories. Aside from the memories… he's just not my kind of guy. My kind of guy is hobbit-sized and has outrageous curls."

I smiled, pushing a stray hair away from Kurt's face, mindful of the fact that silent tears were still pouring over his flushed out cheeks. "It's not like you just told him no, Kurt. You explained to him why, you tried to give him some hope and better outlook on life. You offered your support—"

"Then why didn't I pick up my phone?"


"Why didn't I pick up my phone, Blaine? It would have taken two seconds to just pick up and say hello, make him feel a little better. What if answering one of his phone calls and offering a kind voice would have made him act differently?"

"What if one of those calls was right before he decided to take his life?" Kurt asked, heavily breathing.

"No. No, no, no, Kurt." I pulled the sobbing boy into my arms, stroking his side with my hand and pulling him as close as possible.

"You couldn't have done anything, Kurt. You had no control over any of this."

"He gave up because of me, because the one gay friend he had turned him down," Kurt muttered, the sound muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"Kurt, it's not like that. You had nothing to do with his decision… you weren't what put him over the edge; it was all of those homophobic students at his new school. Every person who wrote on his Facebook page, or said something to him in the hallway, even just gave him the wrong look; they deserve to be the ones crying right now, they should be blamed."

"I don't believe you…"

"Kurt Hummel, you are the most beautiful, caring, loving person I have ever met. You showed Dave all of that, and you made it as clear as you could that he mattered and was important. You set such an example for him, babe. You proved that it's possible to be strong and get through this, and those are the kind of reminders he's going to need now."

"Kurt, I know you feel guilty. I stick with my belief that you have no reason to feel that way, but if you really do feel that way, than just think of how you can help him recover. You are going to help him realize that it will get better, and that he can find love, and have the life that he wants."

I finished my monologue with a few years rolling down my face, and Kurt reached up and brushed them off with his thumb, just as I did the same for him.

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you too, Kurt. You mean so much to me, and the last thing I want is for you to feel like you caused this kind of traumatic event… if anything, you helped prevent it as long as you could. Okay?"


I leaned down and matched my lips to his, moving slowly against them. When we pulled away, he settled himself with his head resting against my chest. I toyed with the hem of his shirt and we laid in a comfortable silence, soaking each other in.


I looked down at him, an eye peeking open. "Mhmm?"

"Can I— it's stupid."

"What, Kurt?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter. He sighed, looking up at me with large eyes that looked afraid of being turned down.

"Can I have a hug?"

I smiled, chuckling a bit. "Of course, babe," I pulled him up into a hug, wrapped my arms around his middle. It was Kurt who squeezed me tightly, practically cutting off the air supply to my lungs. I didn't mind though, it only encouraged me to hold on longer.

"Promise—promise me you'll always come to me before you do anything you'll regret?" Kurt whispered in my ear, arms wound around my neck.

"I promise, Kurt. I really do."

"I promise, too." He said, burrowing his face in the crook of my neck.