Author's Note: This is another installment in the "Stranger Danger" universe and is set several months after Blaine's abduction in "Stranger Danger." This won't make much sense unless you read that story. Thanks to my sole reviewer (danicadaisy) for "If Wishes Were Fishes" and those who added the story to their favorites. As long as I know there's interest, I'll keep writing in this universe :)


Blaine stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His breath was slightly unsteady and he felt his palms growing sweaty.

Blaine was never one for stage fright, had always managed to sooth his nerves by inhaling one long calming breath before taking a performance head on. So, he wasn't sure why he was feeling it now. This wasn't a stage. He didn't have an audience. It was just himself. Though perhaps that's what scared him more than anything else.

He hadn't noticed. And he probably wouldn't have except that he caught Kurt humming the other day while he was making himself a sandwich, and it was as if Blaine had just broken through the surface after being underwater for ages.

Kurt was humming. Kurt sang. Was—is a singer. Like Blaine. But Blaine hadn't sung in months, hadn't hummed a melody as he worked through his makeup assignments like he normally did with homework. He didn't listen to his iPod. He didn't even know where his guitar was.

Music was such a big part of his life—was a large part of who he was—and it was somewhat unsettling that this void had existed so long without Blaine even being aware of it.

It was why he now stood in his bathroom, half undressed, and trying to convince himself that this wasn't a big deal. He'd always sung in the shower. He'd just been taking such quick ones that there really wasn't any time to sing.

He turned away from the mirror, took the rest of his clothes off, and turned on the shower. He stood under the spray for a minute, letting the water douse him completely as he tried to think of what to sing. Usually, a tune would already be in his head, either from a Warblers practice or a song he'd heard on the radio. It was summer break though and there hadn't been, nor would there be, a Warblers practice for at least another month. He couldn't remember the last time he'd listened to the radio either. Rather he had been spending the majority of his time watching television and DVD box sets.

There was that credit card commercial though that aired constantly and played that song by Michelle Branch. He knew the lyrics to the song, let his head begin to bob to the introductory guitar chords that played in his mind and inhaled a breath.

What came out of his mouth could barely be identified as a croak, let alone a note, and he coughed, cleared his throat and tried again.

It was maybe after the fourth attempt that Blaine snapped his mouth shut, pressed his lips so tightly together that his teeth began to dig into them, and he squeezed his eyes closed.

The spray of hot water continued to fall on his back as Blaine braced his hands against the wall and tried to find his breath to breathe.

oOo

He hadn't behaved any differently after that. At least he didn't think so, but Kurt. Kurt somehow always just seemed to know.

"What's the matter?" Kurt asked the next time he had come over. They were in the living room in the midst of a "What Not to Wear" marathon. When Blaine turned his attention away from Clinton and Stacey, it was to see Kurt giving him his undivided attention. Kurt was seated an arm's length away from him on the couch and had pulled his right calf underneath him so he could look at him directly.

Blaine was going to ask Kurt what he meant, but surprised himself when he said instead, "I can't sing. I tried the other day and I." Blaine turned away from Kurt not wanting to see the other's reaction, his pity. "I couldn't do it."

Kurt didn't say anything for a while. Blaine expected some reassuring platitudes at least—not that he wanted to hear them—but Kurt remained silent and the longer it lasted, the more Blaine felt that he should have just kept his mouth shut.

"Forget it," he said in a rush, glancing quickly at Kurt before looking back to the television. "I. It's fine. Just for—"

"Blaine."

Blaine stopped speaking, turned back to Kurt only to see that the other was standing.

"I'll be right back," Kurt said, a reassuring smile on his lips, before he turned around and disappeared down the hallway. Blaine watched him leave, an inexplicable feeling of abandonment washing over him, and Blaine sucked in a huge breath trying to calm himself down. Because Kurt wouldn't do that. Wouldn't leave him alone because Kurt had been with him ever since he'd gotten home and was always, always there.

When Kurt returned with his guitar and held it out to him, Blaine just stared at it blankly. Kurt gestured for him to take it and Blaine numbly did so. The instrument felt awkward in his hands as if he'd never held a guitar before and his hands began to shake.

"Blaine."

Blaine raised his eyes, saw Kurt with his hands extended towards him in question and Blaine gave the barest of nods before Kurt placed his hand over his, maneuvering them until he held the guitar properly. Once he was done, Kurt sat back on his heels and said, "Play something for me."

He felt a rush of anxiety course through his entire body, and he almost lost his grip again, but Kurt was quick to move, hands covering his again and holding them (him) steady.

Blaine shook his head warily. "Kurt...I don't know..." he trailed off uncertainly.

"You can do this, Blaine," Kurt insisted, tone firm and confident. Blaine looked at Kurt, then down to his guitar, then back again only to see that Kurt was now smiling.

"You can do this," Kurt repeated.

Blaine always found it hard to deny that smile, and he hesitantly began to strum the strings. Muscle memory had him twisting the tuning pegs whenever he heard a note was out of tune and soon the guitar was ready to be played.

Kurt sat patiently, a warm smile still fixed on his face, as Blaine haltingly began to play. He winced as his fingers stumbled over the chords, but pressed onward.

Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
And when I wake you're, you're never there
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere
You're everywhere

Blaine's fingers faltered when Kurt began to sing and he raised surprised eyes to see Kurt smiling at him encouragingly before inhaling a breath to prepare for the next verse. So, Blaine continued to play.

Just tell me how I got this far
Just tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

As Blaine continued to play, his strokes grew more confident and his fingers moved with ease over the fretboard to remembered chords. It was exhilarating. Freeing. Blaine felt as if he was flying.

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?

When Blaine struck the last chord, Kurt was smiling widely and Blaine was too. And then Blaine did something he hadn't done once since he'd gotten back. Not with anyone.

He tossed his guitar to the side and threw his arms around Kurt's waist and hugged him for all he was worth.

Kurt sat there shocked for a moment and his eyes began to fill rapidly with tears before he wrapped his arms around Blaine and hugged him back.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered harshly into Kurt's shoulder, fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of Kurt's shirt. "Thank you."

Kurt swallowed past the lump in his throat and began to run his hand up and down Blaine's back comfortingly as the other's body began to tremor. "You're welcome," he said, voice just as soft. "I knew you could do it."

Blaine choked out a laugh, shaking his head, but didn't respond. Instead he relished in the feel of Kurt's arms that wound solidly around him and just breathed.


Disclaimer: "Everywhere" belongs to Michelle Branch, John Shanks, and Maverick Records.