"How could she do that to her parents?"
"She was ill, Kurt."
"But she's only fourteen!"
"Doesn't matter. A sick person is a sick person, no matter how old."
Kurt sighed and shook is head. "Alright. I've had enough gore and violence for tonight. I'm going to bed." He stood up and kissed Blaine goodnight.
"Aw, come on. There's a new episode of Deadly Women coming on next." The Warbler whined.
"Ugh, no thanks. That alone makes me glad I like men." Kurt shuddered.
Blaine chuckled. "Well I'm gonna watch it. I'll tell you what happens."
"Can't wait." Kurt replied sarcastically.
Blaine listened as Kurt went upstairs before sloppily lying across the couch. He smirked when he heard his boyfriend come back down and check all of the doors to make sure they were locked.
"Need something, Kurt?" He grinned.
"No, no, just making sure." The brunette replied casually. He started to walk over to the window, stopped, and backed away. "I'm sure they're fine." He muttered. Then he went back upstairs, but not before flipping the hall light on.
Blaine laughed to himself and focused on the show.
A few minutes later, the soft padding of feet could be heard, coming down the hall. Once more, Kurt scurried down the steps. He stood in the middle of the room, glancing around before stalking into the kitchen-making sure to turn the light on-and grabbing the largest frying pan. The one Carole used to make pancakes when Mike, Sam, and Puck came over for a sleepover with Finn. He then scrambled back upstairs.
Blaine shook his head in amusement and counted to ten, grinning when the countertenor came back down at seven.
This time, Kurt simply stood next to the couch and looked, as if searching for something.
"Whatcha need, Kurt?" Blaine smiled.
Kurt shrugged. "Oh, you know, that thing I can never find." He replied vaguely.
The shorter boy fought to keep from laughing. "What is it? Maybe I've seen it around." He asked.
Kurt paled. "Umm…just my...pen." He shrugged.
"Your pen?" Blaine smirked.
His boyfriend nodded.
"You mean like the five-thousand other pens you have lying around?" He wondered.
"It's not like the other ones." Kurt huffed.
"Oh really?" Blaine chuckled. "What makes it different?"
"Blue cap." Kurt mumbled.
"Really?" Blaine asked incredulously.
"Really."
"So let me get this straight. You can't find another pen to use because your pen got lost and it has a blue cap which is completely relevant to the function of said pen." Blaine clarified.
"Yep." Kurt said almost inaudibly, staring at his feet.
Blaine smiled. "Kurt, if you're scared, why don't you just tell me?" He asked.
Kurt scowled at the shorter boy. "I'm not scared!" He scoffed. "What reason do I have to be scared? I'm not a child, Blaine." He snapped.
Blaine held his hands up, palms out. "Fine, sorry. My mistake." He apologized, sparing the diva his pride.
"Goodnight." Kurt said, racing back upstairs.
Blaine noted that the hall light was still on.
Kurt didn't come back downstairs after that. Blaine could hear him shuffling around in his bedroom, but the door never opened. At about eleven thirty, Blaine flipped off the TV and trudged up the stairs to his boyfriend's room. He quietly crept into the room and pulled off his shirt with a yawn. Quickly changing into some pajama bottoms, he crawled into bed and lied beside Kurt, slowly dozing off.
It had only been a few minutes when Blaine was jarred awake by a shrill scream.
"Kurt?" Blaine murmured, but the pale boy was already running out of the room.
"Finn! Dad!" He shrieked, banging on their doors.
Blaine quickly got out of bed, thinking something was wrong with his boyfriend. He hurried into the hall and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. The countertenor started to kick and struggle wildly.
"DAD!" He screeched. "DADDY! FINN!"
Blaine looked up as the hall light came on and Burt came storming out of his room with a rifle. Blaine felt a surge of fear, like a punch in the stomach and immediately let go of Kurt.
"What's going on?" He boomed, looking at Blaine accusingly.
Blaine shook his head, wide-eyed and held his hands up.
"Dude! I'm sleeping! What's with all the screaming?" Finn asked groggily, appearing at his doorway.
Kurt, who was still on the floor, silently got to his feet and straightened his clothes.
"Are you okay, Kurt?" Burt asked.
Kurt nodded and blushed deeply. "Sorry. I thought I was being attacked." He said, embarrassed
"By Blaine?" Finn asked.
"No…a fourteen year old girl with a hammer." The brunette admitted.
Blaine chuckled. "It's okay, Kurt. All of those people are in jail. There's no need to be scared." He crooned.
"I know that, but my imagination doesn't know that." Hurt huffed, hitting Finn's arm when the jock started to snicker.
"I'll be right there with you. Blaine smiled. He would have wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, but Burt was standing right there with a loaded rifle and he wasn't ready to die yet.
"You boys need anything, just call." Burt said. "Got it?"
Blaine nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you." He led Kurt back to their room. Once the door was closed, Kurt flopped onto his bed and hid under the covers.
"Aw, what's wrong?" Blaine smiled.
"I just totally spazzed out in front of you and my family. What do you think?" Kurt grumbled.
"Why didn't you just say you were scared? You know I wouldn't judge." The soloist said as he slid into bed next to his boyfriend. Kurt didn't respond.
"I wouldn't have left you alone." Blaine added, wrapping his arms around the brunette.
Kurt sighed and burrowed close to him. Blaine kissed his forehead and turned the light off. A few minutes of silence passed, each one tense and eternal.
"Hey, Kurt." Blaine whispered.
"Yeah" Kurt whispered back.
"Still scared?"
"…yes."
"Don't worry."
"Why not?"
"No one would ever dare to kill an angel."
"Aw, Blaine, that was so corny."
"It distracted you, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Then I'm doing my job."
"Goodnight, Blaine. Love you."
"Love you, too."
"…"
"I'm going to murder you, Kurt."
"Finn! Get the hell out of my room before a break your skull with a frying pan!"