Dream a Little Dream

Title: Dream a Little Dream

Author: Jen

Rating: Teen

Notes: Spoilers for anything after "Furt" and based on Chris Colfer's interview with Ellen in which he mentioned he actually is a sleepwalker.

Blaine was startled awake, and from a very nice dream, by cold hands. Blaine was, in fact, not a morning person. Unlike Kurt who could roll out of bed, mumble a few words of varying intelligence, knock back a cup of coffee, and then be on his way, Blaine could not. He preferred to wake up gradually, with several hits to his alarm clock's snooze button, a good stretch, and patience. He did not like being forcibly shaken awake by cold hands and a panicked face.

"What?" he ground out, and sat up, slapping at the nearby table lamp. His eyes flicked across the room to Wes' digital clock. It was early, and he told the kid waking him, decidedly not Wes, just as much, adding, "And I hope you have a very good reason for being out of your dorm and in mine." The kid looked all of thirteen, which probably meant he was a freshman, or a sophomore at the most.

"Blaine?" the kid demanded, his lip trembling. "You're Blaine, right? I mean, he had your room number written down on the pad by his bed, and he talks about you all the time, and I know we haven't met, but you guys are friends and I didn't know where else to go so you have to help me."

"Woah," Blaine cautioned, coming more awake as the light woke Wes across the room. "Calm down. You look like you're going to have a panic attack, and you're not really making a lot of sense. Here, sit down." Blaine pushed away his blankets and motioned for the kid to sit on his bed.

Shaking, the kid nodded and sat gingerly on Blaine's bed, still looking scared and skittish.

"What's going on?" Wes asked, getting out of his own bed and making his way across the bedroom. He rubbed at his eyes and asked the interloper, "Who're you?"

"Peter," the kid squeaked out, "my name is Peter."

"Okay," Blaine said. "Peter, then, why don't you tell me what you're doing in my bedroom at three in the morning."

"I woke up to use the bathroom," Peter said, his hands twisting frantically in front of him. He was dressed in his Dalton pajamas, the signature blue robe over them, and thick slippers covering his feet. And the room was warm, but Blaine could still see the shivers wracking the kid's frame, and he was reminded that the underclassmen dorms were on the far end of the school, and not at all near the underclassmen's residence hall. "I drank a lot of soda before bed and I had to go really bad, so I woke up, and I was coming back when I noticed he was gone."

Worry on Wes' face, he asked, "Who was gone? And why didn't you go to your resident advisor?"

"He was just gone!" Pete said once more, a hint of desperation in his words. "His bed was empty and he left everything behind, like, he didn't take his coat or anything, and the door to the commons was open, so I checked, and the door to the hall was open too. It's like he just walked out." Peter's eyes moved back to Blaine. "I was scared to tell my RA. You're Kurt's friend. You'll know what to do."

Blaine froze, panic beginning to sweep over him at Kurt's mention. Kurt, who was endearing and sweet and not quite as brave or confident as he let people think, was missing? "You're Kurt's roommate?" Blaine demanded. He'd been in Kurt's dorm a handful of times in the past week since Kurt had transferred, but Blaine hadn't met the elusive roommate who Kurt claimed was knee deep in extra curricular activities and nearly always gone, which suited Kurt just fine.

The kid reiterated, "I came back from the bathroom and he was gone. You have to help me. I'm responsible for him. He's my roomie."

Wes crossed back over to his side of the room and snatched his phone off his bedside table, demanding, "Are you sure he didn't just step outside for a moment? Kurt's new, you know. He's not used to how stuffy a dormitory can be."

"I checked everywhere!" Peter stressed.

"I'm calling David," Wes announced, fingers dialing rapidly.

Blaine nodded and stood, moving immediately to his closet. "Tell him to get Roger up, I don't care what it takes. Then tell him we'll meet him in the central courtyard in fifteen minutes."

"Where could he be?" Peter questioned, but Blaine wasn't certain if the boy was talking to anyone specifically.

Blaine and Wes left the trembling freshmen in their warm dorm and darted outside and along the imposing hallways by themselves. They weren't even outside yet and Blaine could feel the cold weather biting through his hastily thrown on jacket. It would be snowing soon, if it wasn't already, and Blaine didn't like the idea of Kurt unaccounted for in the frigid weather.

"What do you think is going on?" Wes asked, leveling a flashlight up as they emerged from the hall and stepped out into the early morning.

Freezing temperatures stung Blaine's face immediately and he jammed his fingers deeper into his jacket, letting his shoulder press against Wes' for warmth. He answered honestly, "I don't know, but I'm worried. We'll meet up with David and Roger and go from there. Kurt isn't familiar with Dalton's layout just yet. It is entirely possible that he went for a late night walk and got lost."

"Curfew," Wes reminded.

"We should do our best not to get caught then, right?"

David was standing, prompt in his appearance, by the time Wes and Blaine made it to the courtyard. There was a tall, stocky boy by his side, David's roommate Roger, and the male looked utterly displeased.

"I want you to know," Roger shot darkly at Blaine, "that I am only doing this because David made it very clear this kid is your boy, and I expect proper compensation."

"Thanks," Blaine told him softly, and couldn't fight the reference of Kurt being his. Of course, Blaine considered himself a gentleman. He was a teenager boy, but he could also exercise self control, which meant until Kurt settled in, and found his feet, Blaine could keep his emotions to himself, along with his hands. Naturally, Blaine planned to take Kurt out on several fabulous dates, kiss him as often as allowed, and wear him on his arm proudly at every opportunity, but until then, he could be a friend. This was such an occasion.

"Blaine thinks Kurt may have gotten lost," Wes piped up, holding a spare flashlight out to David. "Chances are that's the case. If you'll check the main hall, and the senior dormitories, Blaine and I will cover the underclassmen's hall, and the surrounding facilities."

David pulled the collar of his jacket tighter to his body and remarked, "Sounds good. But what if we don't find him?"

Blaine looked oddly to him. "Kurt left his dorm without anything. He doesn't have a coat. He doesn't have anything proper to keep him warm. In fact I'm to believe that he hasn't any shoes, either. If that's the case, then not finding him is not an option."

"Come on." Roger hooked an arm around David and began dragging him off. "The sooner we start …"

Blaine took a sharp breath, the air still too cold for his lungs. "We need to find him, Wes. I took responsibility for him. I spoke with his father and assured that man that nothing would happen to Kurt while he was here."

"And you have a major crush on the boy."

"That's highly inappropriate."

Wes rolled his eyes. "And so are a lot of the things that you dream about involving him. You talk in your sleep. Up until recently I've been treated to very vivid descriptions for how appealing you find Antonio Banderas, but there has been a change. I believe earlier this night you had a dream in which and Kurt were-"

"I do like him," Blaine admitted, cutting the recollection off. "I've cared for him for quite a while. And I would, given the chance, like to walk him to classes in the capacity far exceeding a friend. But I'm willing to wait. He will come to me when he's ready. I've made no mystery of my feelings."

"Really?" Wes questioned, and together he and Blaine approached the gymnasium. "Because you've got a pretty good game face. It's hard to tell with you at time. I wouldn't be surprised if Kurt thought you were happy to play the role of the doting, older sibling."

"He has one of those now, I believe." Blaine shook his head slowly. "No, make no mistake, Wes, my actions towards Kurt have been honorable, but I have told him they will only remain that way as long as he wishes."

"Don't sound so methodical," Wes said with a laugh. "You really like the kid. You want to kiss him, and then some, I'm betting. You want to take him out on dates, and let him hold your hand. That's not something clinical. It's a lot more organic than you let yourself believe. And it's not like there's a twelve step process. Maybe you just need to grab him, lay one on him, and make sure he understands."

Blaine was quiet for a moment, his body freezing, and pondered, "I don't suppose Kurt ever told you why he decided to transfer to Dalton, did he? It is a personal matter."

"But?" Wes prompted. "I thought it was the bullying situation."

"There was an individual," Blaine answered, "a bully, who was making things difficult for Kurt. Initially there was the threat of physical violence, but recently Kurt told me there was … I suppose you could call it … there were sexual advances made to him. Nothing overt was done, apparently, but this bully did kiss him, and then continue to sexually taunt him afterwards. Kurt transferred because he no longer felt safe. There was, in addition, a threat to his life made."

"Oh," Wes said quietly.

"Kurt can have all the time he needs," Blaine said bluntly. "I will never pressure him, and I will never be more than a friend to him, if it's all he needs from me."

"Kurt!"

Wes took off running and it was a moment before Blaine could follow after. His legs were protesting but he did manage to keep up, having to trust in Wes until he could make out Kurt's form across the nearby soccer field, walking along without a care in the world.

Wes reached Kurt first, caught him around the shoulders, and then breathing hard, demanded, "What're you doing out here?"

Blaine caught up in time to see Kurt shrug himself out of Wes' hold and continue on.

"Kurt!" Blaine called out, stepping in front of him, and having to physically, albeit as gently as he could imagine, restrain him. "Kurt?" Blaine took a better look at the boy, his skin too pale, dressed in nothing but his thin, Dalton pajamas, barefoot, and gazing dully past him. There didn't seem to be recollection in Kurt's face, or a real attention to anything. Blue tinted lips were cracked, and Kurt's normally vibrant eyes were half lidded. "What's wrong, Kurt?"

"Blaine," Wes said carefully, taking Kurt by the elbow an turning him back towards Dalton, the young teen marching right along, "I think he's sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking?" Blaine asked incredulously. However, the more he observed Kurt, the more likely the explanation seemed to be. He instructed, "Let David and Roger know where we are. We may need some help getting Kurt back to bed."

"Aren't you not supposed to wake up a sleepwalker?" Wes asked.

"I would rather not risk it." He stepped once more in front of Kurt and took his shoulders in hand, squeezing firmly. He asked, "Kurt? Are you asleep?"

Kurt hummed happily but otherwise made no indication that he recognized Blaine in front of him, or anyone else.

"He's freezing," Blaine observed, and unzipped his own coat immediately. "You're lucky," he told Kurt fondly, "we're about the same size. So I'm going to get you into my coat, and we'll try and warm you up." It was a bit like working with a baby, but Kurt offered no resistance as Blaine slid the heavy material over him and then zipped it up. "There, that's better, I'd say."

"His feet," Wes pointed out, crouching next to Kurt. "I'd say his feet are pretty frozen through now."

"Frost bite?" Blaine asked worriedly.

Wes shoot his head. "It's not cold enough for that, given the amount of time he's been outside, but I wouldn't be surprised if he'll be in a bit of pain when we warm him up."

David and Roger reached them quickly enough, and Blaine kept an arm securely around Kurt's shoulders as he began to fidget and make soft noises of displeasure.

"He's sleepwalking," Roger said flatly, an eyebrow arched. "Really? Who actually does that in real life?"

"Kurt, apparently," Blaine said.

"Come on," David urged, gesturing at Kurt's feet and Blaine who was now lacking a coat. "It's freezing and we're going to be spotted out here by whoever is making the nightly rounds if we don't hurry."

"I've got him," Roger told Blaine gently, and then the much bigger boy was able to scoop Kurt up nearly effortlessly. "Where am I taking him? The underclassmen hall? You know which room is his, right?"

"No," Blaine declined. One of Kurt's arms was hanging free and Blaine reached for it, tucking it up onto Kurt's lap. He couldn't help his fingers pushing at the fringe on Kurt's forehead, surprised to see the younger boy's eyes now closed. "Take him to my room. I want to keep an eye on him tonight."

"If we get caught with him in there," Wes reminded.

"Do you mind?" Blaine asked.

Wes shook his head and moved to share his body heat with Blaine. "We should go. It's going to take some work to get him warm again."

Blaine insisted on them putting Kurt in his bed right away, and around the time that Roger and David scurried back to their room, and Peter returned to his own, Kurt began to mumble awake.

"It's okay," Blaine promised him, sitting on the side of the bed and more thoroughly pressing the blankets in around Kurt's form. "You're with me, Kurt. Just go back to sleep."

Teeth chattering, Kurt managed, "Cold."

"I know," Blaine soothed, looking across the room to where Wes was rooting through the trunk at the foot of his bed for his hot water bottle. "You went on a little walk a bit ago. No to worry, we found you and brought you back. You're with me, in my room. Just lay still and let me take care of you."

There wasn't any resistance from Kurt and he seemed to drop away as David headed to fill the bottle. Blaine fretted a moment more over Kurt, and then settled in himself to wait the night out. He moved closer to Kurt's feet and rubbed at them slowly through the blankets, hoping hurry the warming process. It seemed to Blaine, the longest night he could remember in a long time.

At some point Blaine fell asleep, a combination of Kurt's presence and the encompassing warmth of the room. It was the barest of movement, and a hand covering his, that woke him.

"Hey," Kurt said softly as Blaine came to. He looked much better to Blaine, with coloring to his cheeks, soft looking lips, and a welcoming crinkle to his eyes. He was still cocooned underneath Blaine's blankets aside from one lone hand, which was grasping at Blaine's. "I'm a little confused."

"I would imagine," Blaine said, "we're equally so."

"This is your room, right?" There was clear hesitation in Kurt's voice.

"Yes," Blaine verified, then urged Kurt to lean up carefully and extracted the hot water bottle from behind him. "We brought you here last night, so someone could keep an eye on you. I wasn't completely confident in your roommate."

Kurt gave a soft laugh. "He's a bit much, right?"

"Well meaning," Blaine indulged.

For a moment again Kurt was silent, then said, "I'm wearing your jacket. And I'm in your bed, under a dozen blankets. Can you tell me why?"

"You're wearing my jacket because you needed all the extra warmth you could get. And as I said, you're in my room because it was more convenient for all parties. Kurt, why didn't you tell me you sleepwalk? This is a serious matter. Your RA needs to know, and so does your roommate. Extra precautions need to be taken. What happened last night …"

"I …" Kurt broke off.

"We found you," Blaine explained, "on the soccer field, just wandering about. If your roommate hadn't gone to the bathroom so late, and noticed you missing, who knows what might have happened to you, Kurt."

Squeezing at Blaine's hand, Kurt confessed, "It used to be a problem when I was a child. For a long time my parents made me sleep in-between them, so they'd know if I got up in the middle of the night. But then, after a while, it mellowed down. I had been confident that it was controlled, but it has been known to flare up when I'm under pressure, or stress of some kind."

And the move, Blaine surmised, from McKinley to Dalton, had been anything but easy for Kurt.

"Well," Blaine said, getting to his feet slowly, "What's done is done. How do you feel now?"

Kurt snuggled down into Blaine's bed. "Good." The bed still smelled like Blaine, like old spice aftershave. "Great, actually. Still a little cold, though."

"I can get you another blanket," Blaine offered, gesturing at the closet.

Kurt lunged forward suddenly, his fingers catching the edge of Blaine's sleeve. "Stay," he implored, eyes impossibly wide. "Maybe you could … you could keep me warm."

"I'll have you know," Blaine said with a smile, lifting a side of the blankets to scoot into the bed with Kurt, "that this is quite against Dalton rules. We would both be in for a serious reprimand if anyone found out."

Kurt pressed himself against Blaine, sinking into the offered comfort. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No," Blaine promised, then tucked his head above Kurt's and pulled the younger boy close. "Just rest. It's early. Classes aren't for several more hours. I think it's a miracle you haven't caught a cold."

For a moment Blaine thought Kurt might have fallen back asleep, but then the soprano's voice came, "Thanks, Blaine, for finding me."

Blaine held him a bit more tightly. "I will always come for you, Kurt."

"For god's sake," Wes' voice demanded from across the room, "if I don't hear some serious kissing sounds from over there I'm going to-"

With his heartbeat thundering in his chest, Blaine pressed his mouth over Kurt's chastely, gently coaxing it open. He wasn't certain if Wes was still talking, but instead concentrated on the way Kurt was so pliant next to him, fingers clenching into Blaine's pajama top excitedly as they kissed.

"That okay?" Blaine dared to ask, drawing back just enough to form the words.

"Again," Kurt requested, and Blaine fulfilled.