It had only been a few weeks since Kurt had finally given in to all the requests – both subtle and not so subtle – and had graced the Senior Common Rooms the Warblers used for practice with his presence. Nevertheless, despite the short time span, Kurt had quickly grown to love the place. It was one of the areas that the school, once it had taken over the manor and converted it for educational purposes, had largely left the same. It still retained a rustic air that somehow blended in seamlessly with the hints of modernity that graced it. Kurt was particularly enamoured with the décor, and, while the twenty odd teenagers talked, laughed, sang and (mostly) good naturedly quibbled with each other, he would use the opportunity to look about the room critically, both admiring what had been done and envisioning the changes that could be made to further enhance the place.

If it wasn't for the fact that, months ago, the activities in this room would have been enough to send him into an emotional tail-spin, Kurt would have regretted the time he wasted being away from this room's presence. But now, he was more than content to fully explore and discern the little secrets about the area that made it one of his boyfriend's favourite areas in the school. Speaking of which…

Tearing his eyes away from the cobblestones lining the fireplace, Kurt quickly sort out, and located his boyfriend amidst the throng of boys moving about haphazardly as they worked out the intricacies of a routine. Blaine was mid-laugh at something Jeff was doing, and, looking at the rather chicken-ish dance the blonde was doing, a smile tugged at Kurt's lips. It was the start of October, and so there was just a little under a month for Sectionals, which somehow, was not Thanksgiving weekend this year. He still found it a little amazing that, as soon as the date had come out, preparation for the Warblers had begun. It actually made Kurt wonder why it is that Mr. Shue neglected to tell them these things more than a week in advance. But then again, he was probably well aware of the fact that their team would implode way before that date.

Shaking his head in fond remembrance (and wow at the fact that those memories no longer brought more than a little twinge to him now), Kurt turned his attention to where David and Wes were, seated at the council table with a laptop between them. How they could start working on choreography without the hint of what their song selection would be was also beyond him, but, as much as it seemed nonsensical, the Warblers seemed to have a schedule that just worked for them, and he was glad for it.

"Kurt?"

The voice was gently engaging, the perfect way to get his attention without startling him. All the Warblers used that tone with him, after that first day when he had gotten a bit of a fright when Trent had approached him when he mind had been adrift. His reaction had been more than a bit embarrassing, but their collective concern for him had been touching. The care that they showed him even now was the reason that he ever so often got Carole to assist him in baking them goodies, just because he could.

"Yeah?" he replied, turning so that he could look at Andrew, one of Blaine's fellow seniors.

"You okay?" the redhead asked, dropping down onto the couch behind him, a bottle of water in his hands. "We really aren't doing much today. Not bored out of your mind?"

"I'm not," Kurt assured him. "I'm actually still processing how hard you guys work. My old team…we'd probably be running down the corridors now singing about whatever issue was affecting us this week."

Andrew chuckled at that. "It must be so different for you, huh?"

"A good difference I think," he agreed. "Taking a break?"

"Umhmm," he responded, taking a swing of his water. "I had an asthma attack last night, so I got to take it a bit easier today. Figured I'd keep our honorary Warbler's company since Blaine is busy."

"You're too nice to me," Kurt told him with a small laugh, glad that, as always for the genuinely kindness these teenagers afforded him.

Rehearsals were just about done now. As far as he knew, there was no real finalisation of any plans, but, something actually resembling a routine seemed to have been formulated regardless. Kurt took the time to memorise the patterns of their steps. He was no Mike Chang or Brittany S Pierce, but he was certain that he had learnt enough from his brief tenure as a Cheerio to probably come up with a couple of songs that could work with the steps they had already pulled together. Andrew had left him after a few more minutes of conversation, something that Kurt actually became quickly grateful for when, mid-conversation, what felt like a searing bolt of lightning ran through his arm – a pain that had dulled into a throbbing that he could (barely) deal with. Andrew had not noticed thankfully, mistaking his pained gasp for a surprised exclamation when, in an attempt at a flip, a freshman Warbler had landed just a few inches away from them, pride more than anything else hurt.

Even now, Kurt was struggling to keep his expression fixed or at least neutral. It was not the first time he had experienced it; it was a phenomenon that quickly made itself known a few weeks after that first day when Carole had actually broken a glass when she had noticed that the slight tremor she had been feeling was not from Kurt jostling his foot, but rather from his arm. Since then, he had had to endure a slew of tests and experiments that all said the same thing. His nerves were slowly but surely reconnecting themselves with the downside that at times he would experience a lot of pain as the various sectors tried to fix and reorient themselves. He was determined to make it through the rest of rehearsal and until Finn got him at least without causing any concern though. No one, so far, outside of his family had dealt with him in these moments, and he did not really want to draw any unwanted attention to it.

But, more than that, he really didn't want to worry Blaine who had a major test coming up first thing in the morning, and, having had a taste of how senior classes could be given he had (successfully) completed Senior French, he didn't want, in any way, to inconvenience him. And he knew now, from experience, that Blaine would willingly drop it all for him, but that was not what he wanted right now.

Thankfully, everyone was pretty much still used to the mood swings he could go through within the span of a few minutes, and so no one was particularly perturbed when he only offered them small nods or the quick rather strained word as they left, until only Blaine was left, who even now, was claiming the spot beside him.

"Hi you," he greeted, his voice soft and warmed and laced with affection.

Without even giving him a chance to respond, Blaine closed the space between them to gently cup Kurt's face with one hand. Even with his discomfort, Kurt felt his eyes droop as he learnt into it, feeling, rather than seeing Blaine's approach before his lips pressed against his skin tenderly.

"H-hi," Kurt answered shakily, pain battling the affection he felt as Blaine bumped their heads together briefly before pulling back.

"What's wrong?"

There really was no fooling Blaine, Kurt thought ruefully, even as he bought himself a few seconds by shifting so that he could rest his head against Blaine's shoulder, breathing in deeply the scent of his cologne.

"I'm okay," he said, after a moment, turning so that his cheek was now pressed against the blazer. He was grateful that the angle hid his face for at that moment his arm gave a particularly painful throb that brought a grimace to his face. "I'm just tired."

Blaine's arms slowly crept around him, and Kurt allowed himself to be tugged in closer so that the older teenager could start a soothing caress against his back.

"Well it's been a long day," he responded, "and I know how much Physics class drains you. Did you get a lot of homework for tomorrow?"

Always so concerned, Kurt acknowledged, even as he shook his head, knowing that Blaine would feel the movement. "Just a few math problems."

"Then you can sleep early tonight to compensate? The week ends tomorrow for you anyway."

It did. While, thankfully Kurt's appointment with his psychologist had decreased to once weekly (save for the occasional episodes that required extra visits) those times had been replaced with physical therapy that so far was showing painfully little progress, much to Kurt's consternation.

"I will," he promised. His voice cracked mid-word though as the pain made itself be known once again.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his tone taking on a worried edge.

The brunette knew that he had discerned the emotion, felt the way his hands hesitated against his skin before, gently he pushed him back so that he could examine his face.

"Poppet," Blaine inquired carefully after a moment. "Are you being truthful with me? You don't look okay…"

It was the nickname that got him every time and Kurt knew that Blaine often used it to his advantage, drawing from him slowly but surely the words and feelings Kurt would otherwise prefer to keep hidden.

"My arm hurts," he whispered, his gaze lowered.

Blaine's hand moved to the said arm immediately, gently grasping and rubbing along it in a gesture that Kurt still could not really feel, but so badly wanted to. The symbolism behind it warmed him though.

"Poppet, why didn't you say something?"

"It's not that bad," Kurt hedged, although he knew immediately that he failed to be believable given the incredulous look Blaine gave him.

"You're pale and sweating."

"I didn't want to worry anyone."

"Kurt-" Blaine began, before breaking off with a sigh. "You have your medication bag right? Let's get a painkiller in you first of all."

"Blaine no," he protested, even as Blaine pulled away and stood, heading to where Kurt had left his bag upon his arrival. "I don't want it. It'll make me drowsy."

"Then it's a good thing you didn't drive yourself here today. You can always sleep on the way home poppet."

"But-"

"I don't want you in pain, Kurt. And I'm sure you don't want to be in pain."

He was right, but that did not make Kurt any happier with that fact currently. Instead he remained silent, watching as Blaine opened his bag, found his pouch, selected the correct tablet with an ease that told him that he and Finn had had prior discussion about this before closing the bag. He pulled Kurt's water bottle out of his side pocket before returning to him with both items.

Their eyes met for a long, speaking second when Blaine returned, standing in front of him in a way that had Kurt looking back to meet his hazel gaze. Kurt knew that there was a stubborn lilt to his face if Blaine's reaction was anything to go by. His eyes hardened slightly before he held out the items to him.

"Here you go," he said firmly, offering it to him.

Kurt eyed the tiny, rather inconspicuous pain with malice, stubbornness battling the need for relief as the pain, as if sensing the potential for quelling, increased its viciousness. He held out thought for a few seconds more, long enough for Blaine to fix him with a rather stern look, before he relented, taking the tablet with a grudging expression.

Blaine did not allow his face to relax until Kurt drained the remainder of his water. The summer had taught him a lot about his boyfriend. Kurt despised his medication – all of them. He did not like the effects they had on him. During one particularly honest moment he had told Blaine why. He did not like having countless chemicals pumping through his body, dictating whether he slept or stayed awake, felt emotions coursing through him or otherwise was just numb to it all. He despised having even more of his autonomy stripped away from him.

And Blaine understood; he fully sympathised with him. However, when the choice was between a boyfriend who was pain free but drowsy, or a pensive, pained boyfriend who would quickly succumbed to what looked like a terrible amount of discomfort, the choice was simple. Kurt could look at him like a kicked puppy all he wanted; Blaine knew his actions were right. It was well worth the two or three days Blaine knew Kurt would ignore him for.