The worst is over. Blaine firmly believes this. Kurt's still wearing the crown and acting like English royalty, making decrees and waving his scepter.
"I hereby declare this, my junior prom, to have been humiliating, terrifying and absolutely perfect." Kurt intones, as if he was meant to wear a crown all along.
Blaine laughs a little, but his laughter fades as they head out the doors of McKinley and into the night. Blaine isn't exactly sure if it's the dark, all the people, or the presence of a parking lot that steals his breath. Whatever it is, Blaine finds himself standing stalk still on the sidewalk, while Kurt keeps walking. It's the longest split-second of Blaine's life before Kurt turns.
"Are you coming?" he asks, taking a few steps toward Blaine.
And Blaine can't help it. He flinches, smiling reflexively, because what else can he do? Memories of the other dance are too close at hand. Not the dance, but afterward. The parking lot. The people who simply walked by as he and his date were beaten badly enough that ambulances were called. He feels a kind of phantom pain in his ribs and wraps his arm around himself protectively.
He drags in breath after breath - too fast and too deep - trying to calm down. Logically, he knows it's Kurt and Kurt is the last person who would ever hurt him. But even that knowledge doesn't stop the panic pouring through his body, and the anxiety freezing his mind.
"Blaine…" Kurt says. His tone of voice is a strange mix of tentativeness and measured control.
The only thing Blaine notices, though, is how eerily similar this is. The kids are laughing and shouting. A few cast worried glances in his direction. Mike and Tina slow down, but Kurt waves them on. Doesn't he know they need help? Mike and Tina should stop. Someone should notice. Someone should care.
But all Blaine can do is look around him, desperate. The panic has him by the throat. When he feels hands on him this time, Blaine doesn't think, he does something.
Kurt blinks, surprised. He clearly isn't expecting Blaine to be on the defensive. After all, Kurt's only trying to help. Under any other circumstances, Kurt might have backed off, but Blaine's own encouragement rings in his ears. His own words about school dances from earlier. It doesn't take a brilliant mind to recognize a panic attack when he sees one. Kurt needs courage now more than ever. So, he approaches Blaine again, and puts his hands firmly on his boyfriend's shoulders.
His eyes have wildness in them that Kurt has never seen. His breathing is desperate and thin, but it's the smile that freaks Kurt out the most because it just doesn't belong there. Under Kurt's hands, Blaine is shaking.
"Blaine," he says, willing his voice not to shake. "It's Kurt. We're fine. We're just going to my car," Kurt decides. No limousine ride for them after all. Blaine's in no shape to be around all their friends. He's so grateful that they drove together.
There isn't a visible change, but Kurt knows that the best thing for Blaine is to get out of this situation, and to believe that everything is okay. Kurt slides his arm around Blaine's waist, and takes his hand.
"Let's go," Kurt encourages, keeping his tone firmer than he would have liked. Later, he'll be able to be gentle and kind, but if he is right now, Kurt's afraid Blaine will totally lose it.
Finally, they get to the car, and Kurt pulls out of the parking lot and around the corner, putting the car in park. Then, he unbuckles Blaine's seatbelt, and eases him forward until his head is between his knees. "Breathe," he coaxes softly, rubbing small circles on Blaine's back.
Kurt isn't expecting it, when Blaine lurches for the car door and vomits onto the street.
He feels so helpless. It's exactly how Blaine must feel.
Kurt's phone vibrates on his hip. He grabs it, saying hello, before he realizes it's a text from his dad. It reads: Be safe. Of course, he thinks they are on their way to the after-party.
Blaine is still beyond Kurt's help. So, he doesn't think, he just hits a button and waits.
"Dad? We need you. Around the corner from McKinley."
The next thing Blaine remembers is hearing an unexpected voice talking to Kurt. Blaine tries to sit up, but a strong hand eases him back down, so his head is between his knees. The smile - and his need to do so - is long gone.
"What happened?" Burt Hummel demands, his voice carefully controlled.
"Nothing. I mean, I'm not sure. We were just on our way to the limo afterward and he froze." There's a pause. "He mentioned a Sadie Hawkins dance last year where he and his date got beaten pretty badly afterward," Kurt confesses, regret in his tone.
There are tears falling now. Blaine still can't get his breath. The other voices echo in his memory, threatening so much more than what they actually did. But the idea of it was enough to frighten Blaine, even a year later.
"Hey, Blaine, it's Burt. Everything's all right, okay, buddy? If anybody tries to mess with you boys, I'll be here to kick their asses," he promises, his voice incongruously soft. "Nobody's gonna hurt you. Just relax and breathe."
"I can't," he rasps.
"Yeah, you can. Here. Hold Kurt's hand. Feel that?" Burt asks, after guiding Blaine's hand to his son's own. "You're safe with us, kiddo. Nobody pushes the Hummels around. Now, as long as you love my kid, you're family. We take care of each other," Burt soothes, a hand on Blaine's back even now, rubbing the same small circles Kurt had.
It takes forever, but eventually Blaine is able to collect himself and breathe normally. He still feels terrible, and is shaky, but it's a step. Burt eases him into sitting up very slowly.
"I'm so sorry about all this," Blaine apologizes, because really, it is so embarrassing. He wipes a hand across his eyes. Then, he forces himself to meet Burt's gaze. "Thank you for all your help."
"Anytime, Blaine. You all right? You look a little pale." Burt sends a concerned glance to Kurt, who is still sitting in the driver's seat. "What do you boys say to an evening in. I know the house isn't exactly an after-party. But we got ice cream and movies and I can stay out of your hair…"
Blaine glances beside him at Kurt, who appears shaken, but offers a small smile.
"Actually, we'd love it if you joined us," Blaine invites.
"Whatever you decide," Burt says diplomatically. "But what do you say, I take you guys home?"
"Sounds great, Dad," Kurt says, relieved.
"Hey, is that a crown? You got prom king? Why wouldn't you say something?" Burt asks, an arm around both of them, on the way to his truck. Apparently, all the drama has delayed him in noticing Kurt's crown and scepter until now.
"Prom queen," Kurt clarifies, averting his eyes.
"Well, I'm proud of you. Both of you. For coming out of tonight with your heads up. You're good kids."
Blaine sighs in relief, getting into the cab of Burt's truck. He's surprised by the gentle tap of Kurt's scepter on his shoulder, and the sound of Kurt's whisper in his ear.
"I hereby declare you the bravest, the best, and an honorary Hummel, for as long as we both shall love."
"I accept," Blaine replies, offering a shaky smile.
The End.