Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters depicted within this story they are owned by Ryan Murphy & co. and Fox.

A/N: Post 4x04 reaction fic, this is unbeta'd and was written at 1:30 in the morning. I am unaware if there are places such as the one that is mentioned in this fic or if the reaction to the amount of pills Blaine takes is correct.


It's late. That's all Blaine can think about that it's late and the darkness and silence are killing him. His phone is clutched in his hand, silent just as it's been for weeks. There's been no texts, no I hate you's, no final phone call saying 'we're done'. It's been a month since he saw Kurt since he confessed what he'd done. He hates himself more than anyone else does. More than Kurt hates him most likely. It gets the worst at night though. When the darkness is pressing in and he feels like he can't breathe and he can't sleep. His days are filled with nothing. He feels like a robot and he doesn't know what to do.

To be honest he's felt moments like this for a long time, they just lessened with Kurt around. And now Kurt is in New York…and he told him to go. He told Kurt to go, promised they'd be okay and he…failed. He failed again just like he's always failed. His heart breaks anew as he thinks about him about how he went there and they made out and how he let him grope him. Then he remembers stopping and remembering what he was doing and how he just hated himself for it. How he ran out after the guy made some stupid quip about his Facebook picture. Then he got home and bought a ticket to New York, packed a bag, drove to the airport, bought the largest bouquet of roses he could afford in his guilt and surprised Kurt. After that it went downhill. What kills him the most is Kurt's face, the face he remembers seeing at a table at Dalton just a day into their acquaintance, in a hallway wearing a tux, in the parking lot of McKinley High as Kurt clutched a wrinkled rejection letter, and for the first time it's because of him. He's the one that made Kurt cry. He hates himself the most for that.

He thinks he would be a bit better if he knew what they were to each other. Neither of them has changed their Facebook's, he knows he checks every minute, but he has yet to hear from Kurt. He's tried to call but nothing. And each time he's met with silence he hates himself a little bit more. The sadness and the pain just break him a part each and every single moment of the day. He doesn't know how much longer he can stand it. Doesn't know how much longer he wants to even be here. Pain pills from his eye surgery mock him each time he opens his bathroom cabinet. His Dad's whiskey calls from the bar downstairs. He takes that just little bit longer each morning to shave because he's too mesmerized by the blade and visions of just ending it all.

The tears fall from his eyes and he doesn't register them for a moment and the sobs shake his body and he can't handle it. He feels like he's not himself and he doesn't know how he can get the person he once was back. He feels so lost and alone and tired. Oh he's so tired. His bones literally ache with how tired he is every day. His limbs feel like lead and his head feels like cement. He doesn't know what to do. He's spiraling down and he doesn't have a net to catch him. Rock bottoms is approaching quickly and he's scared of what will happen when he meets it. Boxing isn't helping anymore. He tries all the time to box his hatred and anger at himself away but he can't. His outlet, the one thing that's helped since the final bruise had faded and the cast was off, isn't helping him when he needs it the most. He's not aware of what he's doing until he's sitting in the bathroom with the bottle of pills clutched in his fist and the lid on the ground. Grasped in one palm are three pills, the bottle only has three still in it; he realizes he's swallowed at least six. His hands start to shake and he grabs for his phone and he knows he shouldn't and he knows Kurt won't pick up but he doesn't know who else to call because he needs help.

"You've reached Kurt Hummel's phone please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as possible."

"Kurt…please it's me I just I um I know you don't want to talk to me still and I understand but I just I…I need help Kurt and you're the only person that I can ask…I'm so scared Kurt I'm so scared of hurting you more and hurting…me. I'm scared and I took some pills and I just I'm scared please Kurt…please," he whimpers down the phone line before pressing end on the call. The pills are still in his left hand the bottle lying on its side and he stares at them. He stares at them for what could be minutes, hours, days he doesn't know. The only reason he stops is because his phone buzzes in his hand and he doesn't look just presses ACCEPT and presses the phone to his ear.

"Blaine?" and oh god Kurt's voice sounding so broken and cold and he just he sobs he can't help it he sobs.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry please Kurt don't hang up please don't hang up I'm so scared and I shouldn't have called you but one second I was in bed and the next I was on the bathroom floor with pills in one hand and the bottle in the other and I don't know how I got there. I need help and I don't know what to do and I hate myself, I hate myself so much because I hurt you and I promised to never hurt you…please Kurt," he sobs and curls into himself the pills feeling gritty and sweaty in his palm as he starts to feel a little sluggish.

"Open your door, Blaine please open your door," he hears eventually the voice a bit hysterical. He tells his body to move and he does his best but it's not fast enough because he's only reached the landing to the stairs when sees Kurt already in the house spare key glinting in the light. He wants to ask why Kurt is in Ohio before he remembers overhearing Finn and Sam saying Kurt would be visiting a few weeks ago for the show and Thanksgiving.

"I need help," he whispers because it's all he can say and his head feels a little funny because he can't remember the last time he ate and the pills he took are obviously starting to work.

"How many pills did you take?" Kurt asks and he looks at him again eyes trying to focus in the dim light of the hallway.

"Six I think I don't know can't remember how many were in there but there's six left, haven't eaten in a while either, I really need help," he slurs and his eyes finally catch Kurt's. The other boys eyes are bloodshot and he's got dark circles under them he looks disheveled in a way that Blaine's can't remember ever seeing him.

"I'm going to need you to puke up the pills Blaine," Kurt says.

"Think it's too late, I'm not dying at least don't think so, but if I am I'm sorry, I still love you," he blinks tears away and his head feels heavier than before and his limbs feel a bit float-y.

"Blaine no open your eyes please, I should hate you god I should hate you so much but I can't and that's what I hate the most."

"I hate me so it's okay I'll me enough for both of us," he blinks his eyes open for a moment before closing them again and that's the last thing he knows for a while.

"He's still sleeping right now…I was so scared last night...no matter what he did I still…I still love him Dad…and he looked so wrecked like you did those first couple weeks after Mom…I don't know what to do," he hears distantly before falling back into unconsciousness again only to really wake to the sun in his eyes hours later. He can't really remember anything from the night before except a lot crying and for some reason Kurt. It's then that he turns his head to see Kurt sitting in the chair next to his bed knees pulled to his chest head resting face down like he's in an upright fetal position.

"Kurt?" he asks his voice breaking on the word because his throat is so dry. Kurt's head shoots up then and Blaine really looks at him. He looks wrecked, hair a mess, face blotchy, bags under his eyes, what look to actually be sweatpants on his legs, and Blaine can't help but think he's still the most beautiful man he's ever seen. They stare at each other for a while and Blaine doesn't want to know how he looks to Kurt. He's a mess he knows that he is. And he doesn't know what to say but it seems that Kurt does because he breaks the silence first.

"There's a place in Columbus it's called New Horizons, they specialize in depression issues for those who need more than just a few pills and a couple of therapy sessions a week. I think…I think that's what you need right now."

"I know, should've probably gone a long time ago," he says looking away from the boy he still loves with everything he has even if he can't really…feel it right now.

"I'm still angry and hurt about what you did but...I'm still in love with you, and I think that when you're…when you're doing better that we can talk about us."

"Will there still be an us to talk about?" he asks because he has to know.

"There never won't be an us in some way shape or form Blaine, right now though you need to focus on you," Kurt says and Blaine nods listening as Kurt explains that he talked to his Dad, that Burt pulled some strings and they can get into New Horizons today.

"Will you drive me?" Blaine asks getting a nod in response. They pack his bags, Blaine wonders if he should leave a note to tell his parents. He's eighteen though they won't have to be notified and he knows they won't be home for at least another week so it can wait. It's only in the car on the way there he realizes that he was going to be alone for Thanksgiving. He stares out the window though of Burt's truck as Kurt drives and he feels like maybe just maybe he might be okay one day.