Summary: (prompt fill)Blaine has a nightmare while sleeping on the couch with Kurt. Kurt comforts him as best he can. Set somewhere in canon season 3 I think.
Parings: Klaine, mentions of Finchel
Warnings: Mentions of past violence.
A/N: hope you guys enjoy this. It was fun to write. All reviews are beyond appreciated!

The day had been perfect. That's all Kurt could think as he sat on the big sofa across from the TV. Blaine had taken to eating Sunday dinner with the Hudson-Hummels most weeks and had gladly affirmed his attendance that evening when Kurt had asked at their usual coffee date. He had shown up at 6:30, perfectly on time and offered to help Carol in the kitchen. When she refused him, he and Kurt had clambered up the stairs to hang out in Kurt's room, with the door open, of course. Dinner had been amazing. Carol had made roast which Blaine couldn't stop complimenting, making Carol blush. Everyone made pleasant small talk. Burt and Finn chatted to Blaine about the current sports season, which Kurt didn't pay much mind to. Then Carol asked about school and all three boys gushed about glee club. Blaine and Kurt managed to finish eating just as Finn got started on talking about Rachel and excused themselves politely.
Everyone was happy. Everything was perfect.

Now, Kurt was cuddled securely down on the sofa, Blaine's legs and a soft blanket draped over his lap. Burt and Carol had gone out for a movie, and Finn was at Rachel's. Kurt had the house, and Blaine, entirely to himself. The end credits to The Notebook scrolled across the screen. Blaine had fallen asleep about halfway through the movie. Usually Kurt would have woken him up and forced him to watch to the end, but Blaine had looked so relaxed and peaceful that Kurt couldn't bring himself to do it.

As Kurt clicked off the TV, Blaine's quiet breathing overtook the air. Kurt smiled, listening to the even, steady breaths of his boyfriend. He counted the even seconds between each breath. In- one, two- out- one, two-in-one, two-out-one-

Blaine's breath hitched suddenly, andKurt could feel his legs tensed slightly from where they were stationed on top of his own. Kurt glanced over at Blaine's sleeping form, concerned for a moment, but Blaine simply readjusted himself on the pillow beneath his head and his breathing evened out again. Kurt shrugged and rolled his head back, resting it against the back of the sofa and letting his eyes fall shut. Slowly he could feel himself drifting into sleep.

A sharp cry pulled him out of an odd dream about an all animal production of Wicked, and back into the real world. Kurt looked around in a panic for a moment, trying to locate the source of the noise, his heart beating quickly in his ears. He couldn't see anything, but then a quiet whimper pulled Kurt's attention to the boy beside him. Blaine's breathing was no longer even or peaceful. It was quick and desperate, and each breath seemed to trip over itself as it struggled to find its way into his lungs and back out again. Blaine's entire body had gone stiff and rigid; his legs were no longer across Kurt's lap but were drawn up towards Blaine's chest. His mouth and hands were the only parts of him still moving. His fists clenched and unclenched themselves as though trying to reach for something that was never there to begin with. He was mouthing something that Kurt couldn't make out. He seemed to be saying the same word over and over again.

Kurt stared in horrified fascination at Blaine's tortured form. Of all the times he and Blaine had fallen asleep on this same couch, Kurt had never seem Blaine have a nightmare. It was terrifying. Blaine was the confident one, Kurt's rock. But he was crumbling now, and Kurt didn't know what to do.

Blaine's breathing sped up even more, and his silent mouthing became a whisper. It grew slowly until Kurt could understand the word Blaine was clinging to so desperately. Please.

He was saying please. Kurt realized with a sinking in his stomach that Blaine was begging, but not like he wanted something. He was begging like he wanted something to stop.

"Please," theword flowed, broken and terrified, from Blaine's lips, ripping a hole in Kurt's heart.

"Please. Please, please, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, as though Kurt was in a movie and someone had finally pressed 'play,' Kurt flew into action. In a matter of seconds, he was on his knees in front of Blaine, his hands cradling either side of Blaine's face in an attempt to wake him. The contact only seemed to make things worseas Blaine's sleeping body retracted from him, drawing in on itself with another whimper. Kurt tried again.

"Blaine," Kurt spoke softly, but Blaine only whimpered, scrunching his eyes shut tighter. "Blaine, baby, I need you to wake up. Blaine, can you hear me? Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes flew open abruptly, and he flew in a half-dreaming panic to the other side of the sofa, curling in on himself.

"Blaine?" Kurt slowly stood, not sure if he should approach his boyfriend who was now cowering against the arm of the couch. "It's okay, baby, you were dreaming. Blaine? Can you hear me, baby?"

Blaine blinked and his mind seemed to clear. As the sleep induced haze faded from his eyes, a look of pure mortification took its place.

"Oh," Blaine muttered as the realization of what had just happened dawned on him. "Oh, God,
Kurt I'm so-I'm so sorry. I-"

"Shh, Blaine," Kurt shushed him, stepping closer to the smaller teen who was still crouched on the sofa.
"It's okay. Really, it's fine."

"No, oh my god, Kurt I didn't mean to- I didn't want-I…" Blaine stammered, searching for the right words. Kurt's heart clenched as Blaine struggled. Blaine who always knew what to say, Blaine who was always so confident, Blaine who was Kurt's rock, was floundering. Kurt didn't know what to do, so he just sat down beside Blaine.

"Shh, Baby, it's okay," he repeated. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Really."

"I-I-I didn't-I-" then Blaine was crying. Kurt couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Blaine cry. In fact, when he thought about it, Kurt couldn't remember Blaine ever crying. He'd seen Blaine get choked up, seen him cry out in pain, but nothing like this. Never like this.

Violent sobs racked through the younger boy, and Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, drawing him into his chest.

"Shh, baby, shh, it's okay," herepeated the words over and over like a mantra, like some sort of prayer, trying to pull his Blaine back together. "It's going to be okay. Shh."

It took a while, but eventually Blaine's sobs subsided, and he settled into a dry sniffling before pulling away from the taller teen. He wiped at the tears on his face with the back of his hand, shooting Kurt an uncomfortable smile when the lighter haired brunette caught his eye.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to…well, you know. I-"

"Would you stop apologizing?" Kurt's tone was demanding, but his eyes were soft. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Thank-" Blaine started, but Kurt held up a hand.

"I would, however, like some sort of explanation as to what just happened," he interrupted, his tone more concerned than the gesture suggested. He searched Blaine's face. "I've never seen anything like that Blaine. What was that?"

"I-" Blaine's eyes darted around the room as though trying to find the answers written on the walls. For the second time that evening, Blaine was at a loss for words. "I don't-I- Kurt, I can't…I don't want to talk about it. Can we not talk about it? Can we just watch the movie?" He gestured towards the blank TV screen almost hopefully, his tone desperate. Kurt hated seeing him looking so trapped, hated it so much that he almost agreed. But Blaine's tone now was too reminiscent of the one he'd used only moments before while dreaming. There was too much "please" in his voice. Kurt needed to find out what had happened. He needed to be able to help.

"No, Blaine," he said sadly, shaking his head. "Baby, I need you to talk to me about this."

"I can't Kurt. I don't want to think about it. I don't…I have to go," Blaine's face fell into a strange neutral expression that Kurt never wanted to see again. He moved to get off the sofa, but Kurt grabbed his arm. Blaine flinched almost imperceptibly, but the motion wasn't lost on Kurt.

"Blaine, please," Kurt pleaded. "Give me something, Blaine. Tell me something. I can help.
Please, Blaine."

Blaine's expressionless mask broke for a fraction of a second and he looked torn. His eyes traveled back and forth between the front door and Kurt's hopeful face. Finally they settled on his hands, remaining there as he took back his seat. The tension never left his shoulders, his whole body was rigid. He reminded Kurt of a coil that was wound too tightly and ready to spring at any second.

Kurt waited patiently, never taking his hand from Blaine's wrist, though his grip was light. Blaine could break the hold easily if he wanted to.

He didn't.

Kurt's eyes searched Blaine's face. The dark haired teen's expression was completely blank save for his eyes which danced as Blaine fought whatever instinct was holding him silent. Kurt said nothing. When Blaine was ready, he would speak. They sat like that, neither speaking, for a few minutes, it couldn't have been more than two or three, but to Kurt it felt like an eternity. Finally, Blaine drew in a breath. His eyes never left his hands which he wrung together nervously as he spoke.

"You remember when I told you about, uhm, about the, uh, the Sadie Hawkins dance…the one at my old school. You remember?" he asked, his eyes flicking up from his hands, meeting Kurt's for a fraction of a second before dropping back down again.

"Yes," Kurt said quietly, his stomach in fearful knots, worried about what Blaine might reveal.

"Well, sometimes I'm not as…over it…as I, uh, as I say I am," he stammered, "Sometimes I'm not over it at all. And sometimes I-" he cut off, seeming incapable of finishing his sentence.

"Sometimes you dream about it," Kurt finished for him. Blaine nodded.

"I know it sounds stupid. It's in the past. I don't know why it still gets to me like this, but it does. Just as soon as I think I'm over it or I've let it go, it comes back. It never stops," Blaine looked up at Kurt. Blaine's posture had deflated somewhere during his speech, and he looked even smaller. His eyes were wild, terrified. Kurt realized, with a twist of his heart, that Blaine was shaking. "God, Kurt, it never stops. I can't get rid of it. It always comes back. I can't even sleep anymore with seeing them, hearing their voices. I can feel it Kurt I-"

Blaine's mouth hung open, but no more words flowed out. He didn't seem to have any more words inside of him. Kurt didn't know how to respond, so instead he just pulled Blaine into him, crushing the smaller boy to his chest as if he could meld them into one being. As if he could protect him from everything the just as Blaine had always protected Kurt. Blaine had always been the strong one. He was the rock in their relationship, Kurt's sturdy foundation. He always knew what to say when Kurt was afraid or hurt or in need of comfort. But now, when Blaine was breaking, Kurt didn't know how to return the favor. He didn't know the right words to say or the right thing to do. So instead he opened his mouth and said the only truth that was left in his mind.

"It's going to be okay, Blaine," Kurt whispered. "I'm going to make it okay."