Dislaimer: Glee belongs to FOX, the writers, producers, actors, etc. I am making no money from this, and no copywrite infringement is intended. All quotes were found online and are attributed to their authors if I could find them.

AN: Set partway through "Prom Queen," after Kurt has shown his outfit to Blaine, Burt, and Finn. Because this seemed an excellent format for a deeper discussion into Blaine's own experience with bullying, which I've always wanted to explore in a fic. (Shouldn't really need a trigger warning, as the attack itself is not described at all, just the physical damage, but you should know that just in case) And because Blaine's expression when he first saw Kurt in the kilt demanded to be expanded upon. It was just this cute little almost-smile, and it screamed I love you and you're adorable. Oh, and one final thing: Angst warning (but with cuddles in the end).

Cliff's Edge

By Lady Callista

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"We think a flower on a cliff is beautiful because we stop our feet at the cliff's edge, unable to step out into the sky like that fearless flower." -Bleach, manga Vol 12

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There was an awkward silence after Kurt twirled away and stomped from the room.

Finn still had a confused look on his face when Blaine locked eyes with Burt across the room. "I'm gonna, uh…" He gestured awkwardly back towards the stairs.

Burt nodded as Blaine rose, but said softly, "Hey, kid?"

Blaine turned automatically, even his worry over Kurt's parting shot not completely able to fully dampen the wonder of Burt addressing him in such a casually affectionate manner. Even after a month, he wasn't used to it. "Yes, s… Burt?"

The corner of Burt's lips twitched as Blaine managed to get his name out for what he thought was maybe the third time ever, despite a month of coaching. His voice was emotional as he said softly, "I wish he could wear whatever he wanted, just like I wish you guys could kiss in the middle of Main Street if the mood struck. But you get what I'm saying, why I worry, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Blaine understood completely, and that was in fact one of the things he was going to make sure Kurt understood when he got upstairs.

He caught the look in Burt's eye then, a look that said he wasn't going to mention it now, but he had filed away Kurt's comment on something bad happening to Blaine, and connected that to Blaine understanding his worry. Blaine nodded his head slightly, the only acknowledgement required between guys.

His anxiety to get up to Kurt surged then, and he said the flat truth knowing it would be the end of the discussion. It was also something he wanted to make certain Burt understood. "I understand, and I worry too, but I would never stop Kurt from being who he is, just like I know you wouldn't."

Burt tipped his head in acknowledgement, although his eyes held and measured.

Blaine easily held his own, his eyes blazing with sincerity, and with love that was no less real for never having been spoken.

Then Burt nodded again, and Blaine returned the gesture even as he turned and headed up to Kurt's room.

He knocked on the closed door softly, calling Kurt's name and entering when Kurt called back in invitation.

Kurt was sitting on the bed, his bow-tie untied but otherwise still fully dressed. He patted the bed beside him, the defiant look he had still held from downstairs shifting to something softer.

Alone with just Blaine, his shell melted away and he allowed Blaine to see how his dad's comments had affected him. "It's not about making waves, not really, it's just… it's what I want to wear. There was this amazing Vogue spread on kilts last year -you know, Sean Connery, David Tennant, Patrick Stewart, and best for the last Ewan McGregor, all these amazing guys- and ever since I've wanted to wear one. They're not feminine, not at all, I mean…"

"They may not be in the UK," Blaine offered softly, not to argue but to make sure Kurt understood why his father was worried, "But we're here, in Ohio, where some of your classmates probably don't even know what a kilt is. At least tell me you understand where your dad's coming from."

"I do get what he means." Kurt admitted as Blaine settled onto the bed next to him, so close their legs brushed from hip to knee. "I know he worries about me, about us, and I know you worry too. But before we say anything else, I… I need to say, say that I'm sorry for what I said downstairs, a-about what you'd been through. It was personal, and I…"

"Kurt, it's okay." Blaine said softly. "If your dad or Finn asks what you meant by it, you can tell them. It's not like I tell everyone I meet, but it's not a secret. I've told a few of my closer friends at Dalton, and well, it's okay. Especially with Burt."

Their eyes held for a long moment, and without conscious thought Blaine's fingers began to play with the edge of Kurt's kilt, not sure where to take the conversation from there.

"So what brought you up here?" Kurt asked, trying to inject a teasing tone into his voice. "Hoping to catch me changing?"

Blaine refused to let the mood lighten, which was rare, but he had finally figured out what he felt he needed to say. "I can't say you're wrong that what happened to me is what makes me, well, want to blend in a little more." Blaine's fingers continued to unconsciously play with the hem of the kilt where it rested on Kurt's knee. "Not make waves. But no matter what you want to wear, I'm not running away. I just want you to understand that it's not that I think it's feminine, or that it's stupid, or any of the other worries I could see running through your eyes. I know it wasn't just your dad's comments, it was my reaction as well. Well, my words."

"Blaine…" Kurt's heart stuttered, and he reached out to lace their fingers together. He had had both those worries, along with a dozen others he couldn't even remember at the moment. It amazed him how someone he'd known for such a relatively short portion of his life could understand him so well.

"Just let me finish, please." Blaine's soft tone was pleading.

Blaine's expression was so earnest that Kurt could only nod minutely.

"My first thought, well, I'm not sure it was so much a coherent thought, more just a rush of heat and the sudden reminder of how hot you are. You look amazing in this Kurt, you really do." Blaine let his fingers trail carefully, gently, up the side of Kurt's leg and over his hip, his eyes flicking down briefly to follow his fingers. Then they were trailing lightly up Kurt's stomach, following the line of oddly square buttons, then up dancing over the lapels of what Blaine would call a tuxedo coat but he was sure Kurt would tell him some cool Scottish name for. Fingers still playing with the lapel, he looked back up to meet Kurt's eyes. "That should have been the first thing I said."

Kurt blushed a little, his gaze dropping to where Blaine's fingers still played over the lapels of the Prince Charlie jacket he had spent hours upon hours altering from an old tuxedo jacket he'd found at a thrift store. His voice was soft when he said, "I hoped you would like it."

"I do." Blaine reached out with his free hand then, running his fingers lightly over Kurt's cheek before tilting his chin up until their eyes met again. "You look so hot, and like you said, it's very, well, it's very you. I just... I understand why your dad is worried about this attracting the wrong kind of attention, and more than anything I just don't want you to get hurt again. You've told me so much about what you've been though Kurt, and you know I understand, and I'm not trying to minimize anything, but... Kurt, it can be so much worse."

Kurt remembered the nerves and sadness, and pain, in Blaine's voice and eyes when he'd first told him about the Sadie Hawkins Dance. They hadn't spoken of it again, but the pain was once again resonating through Blaine's expressive honey eyes, and it made Kurt whisper softly, "How bad was it?"

Blaine tensed, his hand clenching Kurt's almost painfully as his gaze dropped to his lap. Although the question was vague he didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Beat the crap out of us wasn't enough?"

"Sorry," Kurt whispered at once, catching anger beginning to brew in Blaine's voice. "You don't have to…"

"No, I'm sorry." Blaine's soft voice cut Kurt off, although he then held his silence for a moment as he took a few deep breaths, trying to access the memory without falling into it. "I'm not upset with you for asking, I just, it hurts to remember, you know? But I'd want to know too, if it had been you. "

Without thought he released Kurt's hand, sliding his arms around the other boy's torso, letting his cheek come to rest on Kurt's shoulder. He inhaled again, even more deeply than before, letting the touch and scents comfort him.

Kurt's arms wrapped around him at once, one hand wrapping up to curve around his shoulder from behind, the other ending up resting warm and solid on the small his back. A touch that wouldn't be the same after today, Blaine reminded himself, and the anxiety that shot through him at that thought caused him to take another deep breath.

The spicy scent of Kurt's second favorite cologne drifted though him, along with the light scent of hairspray and the vanilla of his face cream, and Blaine relaxed degree by degree.

"Blaine." Kurt's voice was as soft and sweet as the kiss he dropped on Blaine's forehead. "You really don't have to talk about it."

Blaine didn't know how to explain that Kurt's very presence was an anchor for him, that he was prolonging this moment not because he didn't want to tell Kurt, but because he needed the strength and courage he got from the other boy. "No, I… I meant it when I said I wanted to tell you everything, that I would tell you anything. It's just easier to talk when you're holding me."

Kurt's grip on him tightened even as another kiss dropped on his forehead, and he whispered, "Then we should get more comfortable."

They both completely ignored the possible innuendo as they cuddled up on the bed, Kurt shifting to rest against his headboard and pulling an unresisting Blaine into his arms. Kurt made sure to keep the tiniest part of his attention on the open door; his dad wouldn't allow him to close it with Blaine in the room, but he didn't want anyone to overhear something this private either.

"I'm not really sure what to say." Blaine said softly. "I've never discussed this with anyone, not like this. You asked, uh, how bad it was."

"Tell me as much or as little as you want." Kurt stressed, taking a deep breath and trying to put himself in the proper mindset for this. Reading about it happening to strangers was bad enough, but he'd never had anyone tell him something like this before, and he knew Blaine would need his strength and steadiness more than ever.

"I had a severe concussion," Blaine began softly, "So I don't remember much of the first twelve hours in the hospital, I don't even remember all of the attack. Which is probably a good thing. The first clear memory I have, after, is of waking up and just, well, hurting everywhere. My head was still pounding, and the light was so bright… Just breathing hurt, which I learned later was due to the fact that I had two fractured ribs. I could feel someone holding my hand, and when trying to turn my head hurt too much I just moved my eyes, and… and my mom was sitting there with tears in her eyes."

Kurt could hear the beginnings of tears in Blaine's voice even now, and he ran his hand in soothing circles over Blaine's back. He had fractured a rib once, falling of his bike, and despite all the bruises he had suffered from being pushed into lockers he knew the pain level was vastly different. And he had a feeling that was just the second in a long line of injuries.

"The first thing I asked was if my friend was okay." Blaine recalled softly, "She started in right away on how neither of us was okay, but she saw the look in my eyes and told me he'd be okay. His injuries hadn't been as bad as mine, and the police had already arrested the three jocks based on his statement. Then I asked her the exact same question you asked me earlier."

"How bad it was?" Kurt echoed softly when Blaine trailed off, feeling the other boy nod against his chest.

"And she told me about the concussion, and the broken ribs. I'd had internal bleeding at first, but it had stabilized on its own before they had to consider surgery. I had fractured both bones in my left forearm, defensive injuries the nurse called them later, and, uh…"

Kurt's eyes widened in growing horror as the list of injuries continued to mount, yet he focused on keeping his breathing even, and his hands soothing as he continued to stroke gently over Blaine's back and side.

"The wrist on the same arm was sprained, and…"

Kurt tensed slightly when he heard soft footfalls coming up the stairs, his eyes flicking to the clock and realizing it must be Carole, getting home from work and coming up to change. Blaine must have heard them too, for his voice trailed off even as he tried to brush away the couple of tears trailing down his face.

"Hey, Kurt." Carole's words were cheerful as her footfalls slowed by his door, her head turning to greet him. She stopped completely then, her entire body language immediately radiating concern and what Kurt had come to describe as simply mom-ness. It still felt amazing to have someone he had known for less than a year directing such a look at him. "Blaine, sweetie, what's the matter?" And not just at him, which was even more amazing.

"Nothing happened, we're just traveling memory lane." Kurt said, sounding much more calm than he felt. The specifics were certainly private, but he didn't want her to worry and he knew she wasn't the kind of person who would push.

Carole nodded, her face softening in understanding. "If you need anything…"

Kurt smiled softly in return, nodding in appreciation. "I think we've got this, but thanks." His eyes flicked again to the open door, then back to her face, a question forming. "Maybe, just for a little while, could you…"

"Just this once." She said softly when Kurt trailed off, not quite brave enough to finish the question. She'd known what he was about to ask though, as soon as his eyes glanced over to the door. "I'll explain to your dad, he'll… he'll understand." The open door policy wasn't to erase Kurt's privacy after all, it was simply the rule all good parents had to try to keep teenaged hormones in check. And it was obvious that a make-out session was the last thing on the boys' minds. "Dinner in about 30 minutes sound okay?"

"Yes, thank you." Kurt replied gratefully. She had not only understood immediately what and why he was asking, but had told him how long they would have without making it seem like she was giving them a time limit. And was in that way also asking if he thought the conversation would take longer, which Kurt didn't think it would.

"You're welcome." She answered with another smile. We trust you was loud in her eyes, but thankfully went unspoken. Taking advantage of the closed door was the last thing on Kurt's mind at the moment, and it had nothing to do with parental trust and everything to do with the mood in the room. A mood he realized belatedly that Carole had probably sensed, which explained her easy agreement. The door closed softly behind her.

TBC…

AN2: The rest will be out in a day or two, once I have time to finish editing. Sorry to leave it like this, but I got this much done before having to go to work and really wanted to get it out there.

Reviews, which seem to be rarer in this category than a nice Sue Sylvester, would be very much appreciated. I'm certainly not going to stop writing without them, but a girl does like to know her work is being appreciated, and more importantly, if I know what you like or dislike some of my future ideas may adjust accordingly. Constructive criticism is appreciated as well, as any writer can always get better. Thanks for your time and I hope you're enjoying my stories.