Three would have been reasonable. Three is the rule Blaine has made for himself. Three texts go unanswered, he calls. Three phone calls go unanswered, and he's allowed to text Rachel. If Rachel doesn't text back straight away, because she always does, he panics.
Three texts, as a starting point, would have been perfectly reasonable, if panic didn't set in after one, forcing him to send two more almost immediately when one went unanswered.
Rachel: I think he went to the store down the block. He probably can't hear his phone. Call him later. x
Blaine's already tucking his scarf into his jacket and grabbing his keys.
Kurt's casually browsing the more exotic vegetables available at the corner store, so much more interesting than anything he could get in Lima, and he almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Blaine sweep up behind him, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Hey, stranger." Kurt spins around to see Blaine's bright eyes, albeit striped underneath with grey – he's a very diligent student and is usually up late reading for the next day's classes – and a wide smile, as if he's here by pure coincidence. "What's a cute guy like you doing in a place like this?"
Kurt can feel his skin prickle with annoyance. He knows Blaine's trying to be less clingy and give him some space, and he should be happy that he's got such a sweet fiancé who wants to spend time with him, but he really doesn't think he's ready for this much of him. The whole point of him moving out was that they would both get some space to grow, especially Blaine, but he's worried they're going to end up with the same problems as before. And what step would they take to fix it then? Call off the engagement? Break up? It doesn't bear thinking about. But Blaine has definitely come here to meet him, which means he's been asking Rachel where he is, and that's definitely not part of the 'giving each other space' plan.
"Is this a bit? Did you follow me down here to be cute?"
Blaine looks sheepish, like he knows he shouldn't be here really, but he doesn't seem all that sorry.
"I don't know. I just- missed you. And I'm here now, so can I help? I'll carry the basket?"
"Blaine-"
"I know, there's nothing in it yet, but there will be in a minute and I can carry it then. Or I could hold your umbrella while you shop-"
"Blaine-"
"And I'd be happy to pay for it. My parents sent me some grocery money and I always seem to be eating over at your place anyway-"
"I've noticed."
It comes out so much more harshly than he meant it to, but Blaine's face falls before he can apologise.
"Ah. This was a bad idea, wasn't it?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. I did what you asked, Kurt; I moved out, I switched my classes over so I'm not in any with you, and now I'm just trying to be here – trying to spend time with you-"
"Wasn't that the problem before? Too much time? I was kind of hoping you moving out would last more than two weeks!"
The slight raise in his voice make Blaine flinch. They know people are starting to watch them.
"Look, we shouldn't do this here. Let's just get the food, and I'll walk you home, and we can talk about this in the morning."
Kurt wants to point out that it's a little presumptuous of him to assume he'll be staying the night, that putting off an argument until the morning isn't healthy for them right now, that he kind of wants the bed to himself if Blaine's going to be like this, but something's sticking out in what he just said.
"What do you mean, walk me home?"
Blaine pauses, as if he's been caught with his hand in a cookie jar, but he tries to cover it up.
"I mean, you know, we'll walk back to yours. Or mine. It doesn't matter. It's just- it's late. You must be tired."
Kurt's expression has changed, hardened, and it scares Blaine – not because he thinks he'll be in trouble, which he knows will only be temporary, but because he knows Kurt will want to walk home alone. And that defeats the whole point of him coming out here and getting himself into trouble in the first place.
"Go home, Blaine."
Blaine's mouth hangs open for a second.
"Whose home?"
"Yours. I'm going to take this back to mine, then I'll come over."
"But Kurt-"
"But nothing. Blaine, I don't want to yell at you. Not here. Just. Go home."
He knows he should do as he's told if he wants to stand any chance of fixing this tonight, but he just-
"No. I don't want to leave you."
Blaine notices Kurt gripping the handles of his shopping basket a little more tightly. His lips have gone thinner as he tried to hold his tongue. He takes a slow breath through flared nostrils and when he speaks his voice is barely more than a whisper.
"Listen to me. I don't know exactly what you think I am, or what you think you need to do for me, but I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter. Go home. I'll talk to you when I've had some time to cool off." Blaine opens his mouth to argue, but Kurt holds up a hand. "No. I need to be on my own." He sees Blaine's eyes watering, and it dampens the heat bubbling in his stomach. "I promise I'll be over tonight. We're not sleeping on a fight. I just need an hour, okay?"
Blaine nods even though the idea of Kurt walking home alone makes him freeze up. Kurt leans in to kiss him and of course it's perfectly nice, but it feels like he's only doing it out of obligation. To try to stop Blaine from crying in public and causing more of a scene. He makes it last as long as he can, giving Kurt's elbow a squeeze before he goes.
He wants to say 'text me when you get home' but he doesn't. He just does as Kurt asks him.
He waits. He tries to read, to watch TV, to find some soporific Star Wars stories to share with Sam, but all he can think about is Kurt, and where he is, and what's taking him so long, and did he get home safely? Will he get here safely? And he can't text him, because it'll just make him mad, but he would give his left arm for some sign that everything's going to be okay.
"Listen, Blaine, I'm going to bed. Maybe you should too."
He gives Mercedes a weak smile, his eyelids drooping, but his resolve is strong.
"No. He promised."
"If you insist. Well, I'm wiped. Try to keep it down when you crazy kids make up, okay?" she says with a wink. He smiles again, but there's not much to it. She pecks his cheek and disappears into her room. Sam said something earlier about going for drinks with a couple of other models after a shoot today. He's with people, that's all Blaine cares about. He's not on his own in the city. Not like Kurt.
There's finally a knock at the door, just when Blaine thinks he's going to pass out on the couch. He runs to open it, and Kurt steps straight past him into the living room. His place would feel too big right now, too much echo and too many corners to be backed into. He feels like they're on a more even playing field here. He hates having to think tactics here, but he honestly isn't sure where this is going.
"Can I get you something to drink? Tea or juice or-"
"Just tell me. Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing."
"This isn't like before, Blaine. This is more than you just being cute. Why did you want to walk me home?"
He mumbles something and Kurt waits, squinting a little, for him to speak up.
"I don't- don't like the idea of you. Out on your own. It's late."
Kurt's expression is hard and cold, like before.
"You don't think I can look after myself."
"That's not-"
"Is that how you see me now? Some victim that needs his boyfriend to look after him?"
"Fiancé."
"I've been here a lot longer than you, in case you've forgotten."
"I haven't."
"And I'm older than you, and no offence, but I'm bigger. If either of us should be scared, it's you."
Just saying that makes Kurt's stomach twist uncomfortably. That's not a thought that's ever entered his mind before, not about bright, shining, confident Blaine. His brain starts to transfer the cuts on his own face onto Blaine's, that bruise over his eye instead of Kurt's, and he can almost feel his blood running cold.
"Kurt, you don't-"
"Don't I? Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that's not exactly what you're thinking. I'm not weak, Blaine. I'm not a victim."
Blaine tries to squash the words before they come out of his mouth, but-
"Yes you are."
Kurt looks like he's just been slapped.
"No. No, Blaine, you're not supposed to say that. I can take it from Rachel, even my dad, but you're the one who told me not to let anybody make me feel like a victim. You're not supposed to see me like that."
It's not until then that he really realises what it is that bothers him about Blaine worrying about him. It's not that he's been clingy. It's because since he got here, Blaine's kind of looked up to him in a sparkly-eyed way that nobody else has in New York. He likes being Blaine's hero out here, and now he's just something Blaine needs to save. If even hopeless romantic, Broadway Baby, Top 40 Blaine Anderson is feeling sorry for him, he must really be in trouble. He's starting to feel dizzy. He grips the back of an armchair to steady himself.
"I just mean-" Blaine's spluttering a little, desperately trying to claw back what he really means, "just- someone hurt you, Kurt. I don't want it to happen again."
"I can take care of myself," he mutters again, "I'm not a child."
"I know that. Kurt, you're the bravest person I've ever met, and you happen to be living in one of the most dangerous cities in America. Everybody knows there's safety in numbers."
"I'm safe."
"No, you're not!" He comes a little closer, sensing Kurt's unsteadiness and caring too much about him to let him be too proud to be held. Kurt's relieved to feel Blaine's hands on his waist. He doesn't try to escape them. "Do you remember when you found out about your dad's heart attack?"
Kurt nods.
"Mr Schue told me. I was in a French lesson. He and Miss Pillsbury – well, Mrs Schuester, I guess – they asked to speak to me, and- they told me what had happened."
Blaine knows. He's heard the story, how every moment is burned into Kurt's memory. He nods.
"Well last week I was at yours with Sam, and he was talking about him and Mercedes fighting about him being too white, and then I got a phone call telling me you were at the hospital."
Kurt's heart sinks.
"Blaine."
It's not hard or angry this time.
"Kurt, I-" his voice cracks and Kurt reaches up to cup his jaw, "I thought I was going to lose you."
"But you didn't."
"I know. And I'm trying to do everything I can to keep it that way. I'm sorry if it's a pain in the ass, but you almost died, and if I can't hunt down the guys that did it, I can at least be there to fight with you next time."
Kurt kisses Blaine's forehead.
"I'm an asshole."
"No. You're the love of my life. So yeah, every time an unknown number calls me, or someone shouts my name too loudly, or I can't get hold of you, I'm going to freak out and you can't stop me. I'm not saying you have to be a victim forever. I'm saying that last week you were one, whether or not you want to say it out loud, and I'll do whatever it takes to stop it from happening again. I can't- I can't lose you, Kurt."
Well now he definitely can't be mad.
"You won't. I swear." Blaine's head is tipping towards Kurt' chest but he lifts it back up. "Hey. Didn't I promise I would come over tonight? And aren't I standing right here in your living room?"
Blaine nods.
"Mm-hmm."
"I keep my promises. I promised that I would never leave you, and that I would marry you, and that you and I would grow old together, and I am going to make good on all of those. You're never getting rid of me." He can feel some of the tension leave Blaine's shoulders. "And I also promise to text you back more quickly. And to let you walk me home. Only if we take turns. I get to walk you back here some nights."
The anxiety still stored in Blaine's body is released when he hugs Kurt a little too tightly. He decides not to remind Blaine of the bruised ribs but he remembers anyway and pulls back.
"Sorry." He reaches up to fix a loose strand of Kurt's hair but has to stop himself for fear of hurting his eye. "Really though," he adds, "seeing you lying there, all bruised and- Kurt, that's the most scared I've ever been. You looked so-" his hand slides around to pull Kurt closer, "so small. I've never seen you like that. I've seen you angry and upset and in so much pain, but asleep like that- like the fight had gone out of you. It just wasn't you anymore."
Kurt frowns.
"Honey, are you okay?"
"I am now, now that you're out, but- as proud as I am of you for standing up and fighting and not letting this get to you, I just- it got to me. It was the most scared I've ever been. If you want to tough it out and keep walking tall then that's great, but spare a thought for us mere mortals. You're a lot to lose, Kurt. If you hadn't- I-"
Kurt tucks Blaine's head under his chin and shushes him. He's been so focused on putting on a brave face and showing the world he's unstoppable, he hasn't seen how much of a toll this has taken on Blaine. He feels him trembling in his arms, and he kisses his temple.
"I'm sorry. I'm here now. It's okay."
"Could you stay here tonight? It's late, and- obviously I know you need space, but- I haven't really slept very well since it happened. Not on my own."
It dawns on Kurt that the grey lines under Blaine's eyes aren't from too much studying. They're from worrying about him. They've only shared a bed once since it happened, what with his dad being there and Blaine and Sam still getting used to the new place, and everyone trying to establish boundaries, and since Blaine's been trying so hard not to crowd him he's held back on goodnight texts. Looking back, Kurt realises Blaine's probably been staring at his phone the last couple of nights wondering if Kurt had even made it home. He remembers when his dad went back to work after the heart attack, and how he'd insisted on knowing where he was at all times and exactly when he'd be home for dinner. He hasn't been doing nearly the same for Blaine now.
"Of course I'll stay. I brought a change of clothes anyway."
Blaine grins even though they're both far too tired to do anything but cuddle and fall asleep. He leans up to kiss Kurt, and Kurt can't stop the slight hiss that escapes him when Blaine presses against the cut on his lip.
"Oh, sorry, did I-?"
"It's worth it."
Kurt kisses him again.
They're on the brink of falling asleep, Blaine's head tucked into Kurt's neck, his hand on Kurt's chest, Kurt's arms wrapped around him so he can feel just how solid and strong and alive he is, when Kurt whispers into the darkness.
"You sang to me. In the hospital."
"Of course I did. I wasn't sure you could hear me."
"I thought I'd dreamed it until Rachel told me. That explains why I woke up with you drooling on my hospital gown."
Blaine just hums in agreement, barely awake now. Kurt, however, seems to be in just-about-to-go-to-sleep-time-to-get-really-chatty mode.
"I'm a little mad at how well everything's healing. I thought a scar might be kind of sexy."
"You know what's really sexy?"
"Not getting my head smashed in with a brick?"
"I was gonna say sleep, but that too. Don't want you damaged, thanks."
"Got it."
There's a pause.
"I'm glad you worry about me, Blaine. I know I probably seem like I'm mad at you all the time, but I- it's good. That you care. That you want to keep me safe."
"Safe. Very safe."
Kurt smiles.
"Goodnight, Blaine. Love you."
"Love you more."
Not possible, he thinks, as he gives Blaine one more squeeze as if to say 'I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.'