A/N: Ok! This was origionally a prompt I got from a friend off of dA (Deviantart), and it was a sort of challenge for users. I unfortunately do not own Kurt, Blaine, Or even Glee itself, but I do own this story...or part of it anyways. :P

"Blaine!" Wes ran into the room, pausing for a moment to catch his breath.

Blaine didn't move; he just continued to lie on his side and stare out the window, "What?" not a single note of curiosity was in his voice.

"Three words man: Kurt. Is. Gone."

The impact of the words felt like a punch in the stomach, tears stung Blaine's eyes and he worried for a moment that he might be sick.

"When...when?" was all Blaine managed to get out, his throat constricting, tears burning down his cheeks.

"Just now... Dude, seriously? Aren't you going to do anything!" David asked, his frustration with his friend very evident.

Blaine slowly sat up on his bed, and turned to face his friends in the doorway, "What can I do, he hates me... I thought that that much was evident. Even if I did try to do something I wouldn't expect him to listen, let alone care…"

Wes and David stared, slightly shocked at the tears but more so at the note of complete resignation in Blaine's quivering voice.

"So that's it...?" Wes started, rage filling him.

"You're just going to let him go!" David nearly shouted in fury.

"I owe him that much." Blaine turned away and went back to staring out the window.

He found it ironic, how the day could be so beautiful, when his heart felt so broken; the foliage bloomed in countless shades of emerald green with the sun shining down on Dalton's grounds, washing everything in a perfect golden glow... this was the sort of day he and–

No.

Not anymore.

Blaine would not permit himself to think of the past... for all he knew it never existed.

That it was a fantasy.

A lie.

"Blaine…how'd it come to this?"

Blaine was pulled from his miserable thought train by a familiar, yet unexpected voice.

"Why are you here?" Blaine muttered, glancing only momentarily at the beautiful chocolate skinned girl sitting next to him on the bed.

"David called me up... told me that Kurt left... told me that you wouldn't talk to either him or Wes, I figured maybe some chocolate thunder could get you talking." Mercedes smiled sadly, nudging his shoulder only slightly.

Blaine couldn't make himself return the smile, "Well sorry to disappoint. Why didn't you just go to Kurt? He's your best friend." He muttered still not looking at her.

"I did go to Kurt first; I sat outside his bedroom door for half an hour and couldn't even get him to speak one word to me."

Blaine shook his head as if trying to forget something and went to lie back down.

Quickly Mercedes caught his shoulder and made him turn and fully look at her. Now that he actually saw her, she had slightly red rims around her eyes, suggesting that she may have been crying too; not too long ago.

"Okay, I'm gonna put this straight... we can either do this the easy way or the hard way." She held his chin so that Blaine couldn't turn away from her again.

"Honestly, I just want to be left alone." Blaine grumbled in monotone, meeting her eyes.

"Well that's not going to happen until I get some answers; so I'll say again, this can be easy or this can be hard."

"What's the easy way?" Blaine dropped his eyes from her gaze, glaring at the floor in a way that would suggest that he was hoping for the black abyss of hell to swallow him up then and there.

"You sit right where you are and tell me everything that went down and why the hell everything blew up catastrophically." Mercedes said.

"And the hard way?" Blaine kept his gaze on the floor.

"I call in Wes and David along with all the guys in New Directions, I arm them all with slushies and for every minute you refuse to tell me what the hell's happened between you and Kurt, one of them will throw the sugar filled ice drink in your face, making your eyes feel like they are burining and your nose sting like hell." Mercedes explained triumphantly, releasing Blaine's chin from her grip.

"Well then I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" Blaine gave in begrudgingly.

"Good, I would hate to ruin your lovely white shirt."

Blaine felt as though he should smile, but the emotion just wasn't there, "Well get comfortable, it's a long very unpleasant story."

"I have all the time in the world. So get talkin'"

"Well..." Blaine twisted his hands together, watching the sunbeams dance along the hardwood floor, "it sort of began three weeks ago..."


"…three weeks ago, and a lot of pain." Kurt spoke to his stepbrother, sitting beside him, looking totally confused. "But!" Kurt piped up, looking Finn right in the eye. "Tell me one thing before I tell you." Finn sighed, rolling his eyes behind his now closed eyelids. He then opened his eyes, and held up his hands in surrender.

"Promise I will. What is it?" He asked.

Kurt smiled triumphantly, for the first time in just more than three weeks. "Alright. Do you, or do you not, have Mercedes knocking down Blaine's door, making sure that he tells her everything as well, that way you guys get the "full story"?" Kurt made the imaginary quotation marks in the air; something he had picked up from Blaine, but then dropped his hands in sorrow at the memory. Finn patted Kurt on the shoulder in an attempt at reassurance.

"I have no clue. All I know, is that Puck nearly knocked me out, making sure that I would come and ask you about it." Kurt frowned.

"He was…. worried about me?" He asked, confused. Finn shrugged.

"Again, not a clue."

Kurt sighed, and looked down at his hands again. He longed for Blaine's hands over his own, yet he knew it would never come.

Never again.

Ever.

Which is why his life sucked so badly.

The small, Porcelain-like boy sighed yet again, and then started his story again. "Like I said; it started three weeks ago, and a lot of pain."


Three weeks previously


Mercedes and Kurt were walking down the sidewalk Friday afternoon, in one of each of their hands, were as many bags as you could count, and in the other hand of both, were Lattés. Kurt glanced up ahead, still laughing at Mercedes' last joke, when he stopped dead, the smile on his face vanishing in an instant. Mercedes stopped walking a split second after Kurt had, and she gasped at what the two saw before them.

Kurt dropped his bags-something, he didn't even care what it was, shattered- and he ran full speed towards what was happening. There were a group of probably three Jocks from McKinley-including Krofsky- and they were beating up some Dalton boy. Everyone had just gotten out of school, so the Jocks were still in their usual Jock 'uniforms' and Kurt and the Dalton boy were still in theirs.

It was now Kurt's turn to gasp as he neared the scene, realizing exactly who the Dalton boy was, and getting a better idea of what was going on. On the ground, a slight way away from the Jocks who currently had the other Dalton boy in a headlock, were Wes and David, who had bloody noses, bleeding lips, and what would soon turn into black eyes. But that wasn't why Kurt had almost decided to turn away; it was because the boy Krofsky had in a headlock was none other than Blaine.

Kurt's stomach twisted with fear, and something-probably Mercedes from behind him-told him to go back; that Blaine could handle himself. But the porcelain boy knew that this was more than his boyfriend could handle.

Kurt raced on, and the other two McKinley jocks began to laugh, and point at him-along with beginning to advance towards him, clenching their fists-alerting Krofsky of his presence. He somehow dodged the punches thrown at him from the other Jocks, and made it over to Krofsky. But he had no idea what to do. For a moment-a single moment-Kurt saw Blaine, now on the ground, bleeding heavily from his face, nose, and forehead. Kurt could tell that his nose had been broken, and that there would be extremely heavy bruising later on.

Afterwards, Blaine had described Kurt's actions as "Stunning and Magnificent. If I hadn't blacked out, I would have fainted from amazement."

Kurt somehow managed to tackle Krofsky, sending blow after blow to the Jock's face as tears streamed down his own. A cry of frustration sounded through the air as Krofsky flung Kurt off of him. Kurt hit a nearby tree, knocking the wind out of him. He slumped to the ground as he tried to regain his breath. He attempted to shake it off, as he whipped out his phone, and quickly typed a text to one person-other than his dad-that he knew would help him. The text read:

To: Mr. Shue

From: Kurt

At 47th & Oxford. Come quick. Need help. Krofsky's here.

The text was answered quickly enough, just before Kurt blacked out.

To: Kurt

From: Mr. Shue

On my way.

Kurt woke up what seemed like Days later to find himself nestled in bed at his house. He stretched, which he found caused quite the amount of pain, and gazed around. Everything was normal, except one thing. Blaine was pacing in a corner of his room, tapping his phone against the palm of his hand. Kurt couldn't help but smirk, and he cleared his throat. Blaine turned, and Kurt saw that his brow was creased to the extreme. Kurt had never seen him so troubled….or angry.

Blaine dropped his phone from his hand, and rushed over to Kurt, his fists balled.

"W-What's wrong?" Kurt asked, now slightly intimidated.

"Why!" Came Blaine's only answer.

"Why what?" Kurt asked, extremely confused.

"Why'd you have to help me? I could have handled it on my own! I didn't need you to come and 'save' me!" He made imaginary quotation marks through the air, which puzzled Kurt.

"Why wouldn't I? You were getting thrown around like a rag doll out there!"

Blaine exclaimed his frustration, and slammed one of his fists onto Kurt's beside table, almost making that area splinter from force. Kurt flinched.

"I could have handled it!" He exclaimed angrily. Kurt saw that Blaine's left eye was still slightly swollen and discolored, and he figured it must be tender.

"I couldn't have bared to just stand idly by while you got hurt, Blaine…" He murmured, now trying to shrink under the covers. Blaine turned away, still frustrated.

"It would have been better that way." Blaine mumbled, almost inaudibly. Kurt felt as though a dagger had stabbed him in the heart. His eyes stung with tears, and they began leaking over his eyes.

"W-What does that mean?" He asked in a tiny, vulnerable voice.

"It means we're through." Came Blaine's only words as he walked out of Kurt's room, closing the door gingerly as he did.

Kurt sat there, stunned as tears fell from his eyes, onto the blankets of his bed, which he had clung to his chin. He sobbed for hours, not moving as he did so, and worrying his father greatly.

Days passed, and the tears stopped falling from Kurt's eyes.

He wouldn't eat.

He wouldn't drink any liquids.

He wouldn't talk to anyone.

He wouldn't move from his bed.

Kurt went on like that for days on end, and eventually, two weeks passed. Kurt had made a decision.

He walked downstairs from his bedroom one afternoon to speak with his dad. "Dad?" He asked. "Can I talk with you?" Now, normally after something grave had happened to Kurt, Burt would be glad to talk with his son, but somehow, Kurt's father knew that this wouldn't end well. Somehow, he knew that tears would be shed.

"Sure. What's up?" He motioned for Kurt to sit down across from him at the table, and Kurt obeyed without question.

"I'm leaving." Came Kurt's only two words. His face was solemn, serious. This was not a prank, or a joke of any sort. Kurt was completely serious, and Burt knew. "I have my things all packed right now. Mercedes is going to come pick me up at 6:45."

Burt glanced at the clock. It was 6:15 now. "Why?" Was all he could manage to say.

"I'm no longer happy here. There are too many memories of him here…. anywhere."

"But you can't leave! You're only a sophomore! You have to graduate! Go to College! Do something with your life!" Burt tried desperately to say something; to do something to make Kurt stay. He couldn't lose him. Not after what all they'd been through. Not after the loss of the boy's mother.

Kurt shook his head, despite his father's pleas for him to stay. "I can't. There is too much here that reminds me of him. I have to start over. I have to start anew."


"Which is why I have to leave. My dad has kept me here long enough." Kurt picked up his suitcase, and turned to leave his brother behind.

"Kurt…no." Finn said, grabbing Kurt's arm to stop him. "I can't let you go." He shook his head. "I just can't. My mom would never forgive me." Kurt couldn't help but laugh hollowly.

"You're right. Carol wouldn't forgive you." He sighed, and then sat down. "Then what do I do, Finn?" He asked desperately, burying his head in his hands.

Finn shook his head, and awkwardly patted Kurt on the shoulder. "I'm not sure, man, but I know that if I let you go, then Puck's gonna have a few fists waiting for me at school." Kurt looked up, and slightly smiled.

"So he is worried about me..." He mumbled to himself.


"I haven't talked to him since." Blaine said after finishing the story. "Not since I stormed out of his room." Mercedes shook her head.

"You have no idea what happened after you blacked out, do you?" She asked. Blaine shook his head, now curious.

"Let me tell ya' then. No sense in not knowing"


Mercedes turned just as Mr. Shue pulled up. You could tell that he was on the verge of panic, and Mercedes knew why. The choir teacher rushed up to her, and they moved forward towards the scene.

"What happened?" He asked her.

Mercedes explained. "We were coming from the mall, and we saw Krofsky beating up Blaine and the other Dalton guys. Kurt practically went insane on Krofsky. He was able to get a few hits in, but then…" She motioned to the crumpled heap of the porcelain boy by the tree. "Then Blaine's also out." She pointed to the other crumpled Dalton uniform.

Will clutched his fists at his side, then Grabbed up Krofsky, furious. He pinned him to the Brick wall that was behind him, and held him by his jacket. "You will leave those boys alone; or I will make sure that you get expelled! And you wont come back this time!" Will was furious, and could tell that Krofsky was actually scared. He dropped the boy, who nodded, and promised that he would stop; then he rushed off with his Cronies behind him.

Will turned to Kurt. "Mercedes. Check on Blaine." He said to the dark skinned girl behind him.

Kurt had a split lip, and his nose was bleeding. But that wasn't the worst of it. He lifted up the designer shirt, and saw that his side was already deeply bruised, and that there was probably some internal damage of some sort. He sighed, shaking his head, and went back over to Mercedes. "Is he alright?" He asked her. She nodded simply.

"Nothing time wont fix. A bruise here and there; broken nose, split lip. But that's the extent." She explained.

Will nodded. "Alright. But…" He glanced back at Kurt. "I think Kurt got some sort of internal damage from hitting the tree. I'm not sure though." He said. "I think we should take him to the Doctor's so that he can get some X-rays." Mercedes furrowed her brow, but nodded.

About three hours later, Will came into the waiting room. "Kurt has at least one broken rib." He reported to Mercedes.

She bolted up. "What?" She asked.

"The doctor says that he'll be fine in a few days if he doesn't receive any excitement, or excessive shock. Otherwise…" He shrugged. "She wouldn't tell me what would happen."

Mercedes sighed. "This sucks." She said, kicking a chair leg slightly.

"He can go home, but he'll be out for a few days." Will added.

Mercedes nodded. "Alright then. Let's get him home."


Blaine nodded, getting up. "Thank you, Mercedes." He said. "I know what I have to do." He rushed out of his room, and reached his car not minutes afterwards. He sped probably 90 down the highway, nearing his destination.

He couldn't let Kurt leave.

No.

He had to apologize.


Kurt hit his fist against his pillow, frustrated. Finn had long since left his room, and now Kurt had to figure out what to do alone. Minutes passed, and he kept hearing the doorbell. "Someone get that!" He called to anyone that heard him. But still, no one got the door.


Blaine almost laughed aloud as he heard Kurt's annoyed call from his room for someone to get the door. Carol had gotten it, Burt had gotten it, and Finn had known he was coming; yet Blaine had told them all not to let him come in unless Kurt got the door.

He heard the footsteps come down the stairs, and the aggravated mumbling of Kurt as he neared the door.

The door opened.

"Kurt, I-"

The door was slammed in his face.

Literally.

Blaine massaged his still injured nose as it throbbed from the door hitting it. "Owwww…." He said. He looked in the eyehole, and saw that Kurt was still right by the door, his arms folded and every now and then reaching out to open the door, but then folding his arms again conflictingly. Blaine couldn't help laughing for the first time in three weeks.

He knocked on the door, still looking in the eyehole, and saw Kurt jump.


Kurt realized that he wasn't going to be able to make Blaine leave, so he slowly opened the door, trying to look annoyed, yet really, his heart was fluttering in his chest.

"What do you want?" He asked in the most aggravated tone he could manage.

Blaine laughed.

Not quite the reaction Kurt had been hoping for.

"I know you aren't annoyed, Kurt." Blaine said, smirking. "I know you too well."

Kurt nodded in agreement. "Then leave." He said. His face was solemn, yet his heart begged Blaine not to.

"No." Blaine said, mimicking Kurt by putting his hands on his hips. "I…. No. We have to talk."

Kurt laughed hollowly. "We have nothing to talk about, Blaine. We've had nothing to talk about ever since you dumped me." He attempted to slam the door in Blaine's face again, but this time, Blaine was ready. He caught the door, and then pushed it back open.

"Yes we do have something to talk about." Blaine said, an equal amount of solemn-ness in his face and voice. "Come on." He grabbed Kurt's and, and he felt the boy almost collapse. "If you come with me, I'll explain on the way."

Kurt couldn't help but nod, his legs threatening to fall beneath him. "A-Alright. But… one thing first." He said. Blaine nodded. "Can you help me to your car? I don't think I can manage walking anymore." He blushed, and Blaine smiled, holding out his other hand for Kurt to grasp. Kurt accepted Blaine's hand in a speed that was way too eager for the situation, and again, Blaine laughed.

As they drove down the Highway-at a much more appropriate speed than the previous 90-both boys were quiet for much time, until the song Baby It's Cold Outside randomly came onto the radio. Blaine furrowed his brow, and hastily attempted to change the song-as it would only increase awkwardness between the both of them-until he noticed Kurt singing to what had been his lines.

"I really can't stay-"

Blaine couldn't help but automatically reply to the lyrics. "But Baby it's cold outside!"

"I've got to go away-"

"But baby it's cold outside!"

"This evening has been-"

"Been hopin' that you'd drop in."

"So very nice-"

"I'll hold your hands; there're just like ice."

"My mother will start to worry."

"Beautiful what's your hurry?"

"My father will be pacing the floor…"

"Listen to the fireplace roar."

"So really I'd better scurry."

"Beautiful please don't hurry."

"Maybe just half a drink more…"

"Put some records on while I pour."

By this time, they had pulled up at a Gas station, and the two were obviously singing each other the song that was being played in the middle of spring.

"The neighbors might thing-"

"Baby it's bad out there."

"Say what's in this drink?"

"No hats to be had out there."

"I wish I knew how-"

"You're eyes are like Starlight now."

"To break this spell."

"I'll take your hat. Your hair looks swell."

"I ought to say 'No, no no sir'."

"Mind if I move in closer?"

"At least I'm gonna say that I tried."

"What's the sense in hurting my pride?"

"I really can't stay…" At this line, Kurt actually glanced at the truck door, as if he knew what was coming. He glanced back at Blaine, who was now right beside him, and who's eyes were flicking to his lips every now and then.

"Baby it's cold out."

Both boys murmured the next line: "It's cold outside."

No longer was the music heard in either one's ears, but the quick and nervous beating of each other's own heart. Blaine's eyes were now completely locked on Kurt's lips, and Kurt worriedly had his eyes closed and was slightly leaning back. Blaine's lips touched Kurt's, and for a moment, Kurt kissed him back.

That didn't last long at all.

Seconds later, Blood was rushing through Kurt's ears, a warning signal. He flicked off his shoe, and grabbed it up, and then he began hitting Blaine on the head with it. Blaine drew back, startled. "What the-?" He asked, just now starting to block his head from the shoe's reach. "What's that for!" Kurt didn't stop hitting Blaine, nor did he answer the other boy's question, so Blaine snatched the shoe out of Kurt's hand. "What was that for?" He repeated.

"You kissed me!" Kurt exclaimed.

"I'm sure you didn't hate it!"

"Its definitely not an apology!"

"So you don't want me back?"

"I…" Kurt was in shock, and Blaine was obviously hurt. "I don't know…" He mumbled. He slumped down into the seat of the small car as slight tears trickled down his face.

"Kurt…" Blaine managed to whisper. He moved forward as to hug the smaller boy comfortingly, but he was shoved away. "Kurt…." The word was more of a plea then anything else, but Kurt didn't acknowledge. Blaine sighed, and reached over and opened the passenger door of the car. "Go if you want." He said, his eyes closed.

It was now Kurt's time to be shocked, and hurt. "Blaine…." He pleaded, gazing up at him. Blaine opened his eyes a bit.

"Kurt…" He replied, equally quiet.

"Do I have to go?"

"Not if you don't want to."

Kurt couldn't help but launch himself into Blaine's arms. "I wont ever go." He said.

Blaine smiled as he held Kurt close. "So, is this apology accepted?" He asked the smaller boy.

Kurt laughed, and pecked Blaine on the cheek. "I think it is." He said, smiling.