Author's Note: This. This is the byproduct of unresolved angst, stress-induced procrastination (you know when you have so much stuff to do that you just don't do any of it?), PMS, and the fact that Valentine's Day is in a few days. It's a little AU, and it goes into Kurt's head after the whole WIGYA debacle. You might hate me, it's kind of depressing. But please just give it a chance. :) (To anyone who reads "No Regrets," I'm posting this separately because I have different plans for that 'verse, but you're more than welcome to check this one out, too. It's a pretty different writing style than my more lighthearted stuff, so if nothing else, that should be at least vaguely interesting.

Oh GaGa, I'm rambling. Sorry. (Consider Glee disclaimed.)

Fact: Nothing, nothing hurt Kurt quite like hearing Blaine say those three fateful words, only to realize that they weren't directed toward him. Especially after having gone on so long waiting, wishing, daydreaming, for the day when he became that guy.

Lonely was the word. Kurt thought he'd been lonely before. He'd thought nothing would make him feel quite as isolated as realizing that Karofsky could pretty much do whatever he wanted, and no one would stop him. Not really.

But he'd had people at McKinley. True, sometimes they were oblivious, or a little self-centered, or just outright bitchy, but...they were there. If he'd been straight with them (ugh, insert lame, Santana-inspired pun here) and told them about what had really happened, they'd have been on Karofsky like white on rice.

The point was that things shouldn't have had to get so bad before they felt the need to intervene.

And it wasn't that he didn't think Blaine would go charging in on a white horse if he needed to, or had even the slightest inclination to believe that Kurt wanted him to. And that was wonderful and sweet, and he would probably always be grateful for it. Except that Blaine had a life here at Dalton. A life that Kurt hadn't been a part of until very, very recently, and no matter how much Blaine tried to make sure he always felt included, sometimes he slipped through the cracks.

It wasn't even that he blamed Blaine for it. God no. But, like...it just sucked sometimes. When he was alone in his room in the dead of night because Paul had snuck out to be with his girlfriend (again) and Blaine had been kidnapped by the collective force that was Wevid to play some intense let's-unbreak-Blaine's-heart RockBand. It was times like those that Kurt wished he had any inclination toward video games whatsoever, but he'd gone once, and it had been among the most awkward experiences since he'd come to Dalton. They tried, they really did. They let him sing, and threw in some kick-ass backing vocals, but...there were the inevitable inside jokes and playful teasing that Kurt a) didn't understand, and b) didn't know them well enough to participate in. The last thing he wanted to do was offend anyone. So he'd stuck it out an hour or so and then made up some excuse about desperately needing to read some Charlemagne (who was basically his long-standing excuse for everything he didn't want to do, at this point) and left.

And now...now, to make things even worse, there was the Jeremiah Incident.

Truthfully, Kurt had kind of shut down after they'd left the GAP. Because yeah, it really sucked to hear Blaine use the word "love" in obvious reference to another guy, but God, that was nothing in comparison to watching him sing "When I Get You Alone" to him, of all things. Seriously, he may as well have thrown himself at Jeremiah, screaming "Take me, I'm yours!" It probably would have been more subtle. Point being...well, to be frank, the whole thing had cut like a bitch. And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt a bit of vindictive pleasure when it ended up basically blowing up into a million pieces. (Except Blaine was so damned cute when he was heartbroken that the guilt followed the malicious happiness way too quickly.)

They'd gone straight back to Dalton after Jeremiah walked away, and Kurt had desperately attempted to be a good friend. "Do you...want me to...do you need anything?"

Blaine had shaken his head, twisting his lips into the saddest half-smile Kurt had ever seen and murmured something about wanting to be alone for a while, to recover from the extreme humiliation. He'd just nodded and walked away, because he didn't actually trust himself to speak again.

So now here he was, in his room, curled up in the fetal position. (He didn't want to think about how long he'd been there, because if he did, there'd be no denying his extreme patheticness. His only saving grace in the whole thing was the fact that he hadn't simply been lying there staring at the ceiling the entire time. On the contrary, he'd called Mercedes, who'd listened sympathetically, and then added Rachel to the call so that Kurt could be distracted by the diva's high-pitched-and surprisingly supportive- ramblings.)

He'd actually just recently hung up. And it was dark, but he didn't have the energy to get up and turn on the light. (Also, he didn't particularly feel like dealing with the brightness.) And then, out of nowhere, there was a knock on the door.

"I think it might be open," he called halfheartedly, burrowing deeper under his comforter and trying not to think about the fact that Blaine was pretty much the only person that ever knocked on his door.

Not thinking about that became way, way harder when a soft voice came from the doorway, because he'd know that voice anywhere. "Is...are you okay?"

Kurt shoved the comforter away from his head and mumbled something noncommittal, followed by, "You can come in if you want."

Blaine, tentatively, felt his way across the darkened room and sat carefully on the edge of Kurt's bed, pretty much as far away as he could get while still being on the bed. (Do not go there, Kurt instructed himself sternly.) "Are you sure?"

"Why are you asking me?" he retorted, voice slightly raspy from talking to Mercedes and Rachel for so long. "Shouldn't I be asking you?"

Eyes downcast, Blaine shrugged. "You just...seemed like something was bothering you. And I really didn't want you to be sad, too."

Something in Kurt snapped in that moment. "Blaine, that would be so sweet of you if you weren't the problem."

The other boy froze. "I...what?"

"You're the problem," Kurt repeated, taking a kind of savage pleasure in it. "Was it so inconceivable for me to assume that the guy you might have been talking about in the coffee shop was me?"

"I-"

"Blaine, 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' is not a song that you sing with a random person. And if it was...your roommate is a Warbler. Wes and David live right next door to you. And...and you...you split a Cupid cookie with me! And you know my coffee order!" He was so aware that he was losing it, and he hated every second of it, but even with Finn, he'd never felt like this. Never. And with Finn, things had gotten really bad.

But he hadn't ever had his hopes up so high.

Blaine swallowed hard, but his voice still cracked as he whispered, "Kurt..."

"I really don't want to talk about it," he insisted, rolling over and pulling the comforter back over his head.

"Just...just give me five minutes to explain. Please." And he'd never heard Blaine sound quite so vulnerable. Not even this morning. So he had to nod.

Blaine drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he was starting to tremble. "I...really, really care about you, Kurt. So much. And I never meant to lead you on, or-or hurt you in any way. It kills me that I did.

"You have to understand, I'm really stupid when it comes to these things. I never know what's appropriate, and what's just...too damn much, because I-I've never been anybody's boyfriend, really. I don't know how to do it. It makes me really uncomfortable to talk about my feelings, and I don't even think I know how I'm feeling a lot of the time, so how could I possibly...God, I don't even know what I'm saying."

"But I know that I can't lose you. I can't bear that."

"What do you mean?" Kurt's whisper was barely audible over the thunderous pounding of his own, stupidly hopeful heart.

"I've done everything I can to be there when you need me-or when I think you do, I guess I can't say for sure that I even know when those times are. And at first it was really easy to make myself think that I was kind of...mentoring you, you know? Because I knew what you were going through, and I was able to relate to the way you were feeling. I was hoping that I'd be...good for you.

"I never thought that I'd end up being the one to need you."

"Blaine, if you're trying not to send mixed signals right now, this is not the way to do it." Kurt was surprised by the strength of his own voice. If he was honest, he was surprised that he'd spoken at all, because he certainly hadn't made the conscious decision to do so.

"Wait. Please, just listen." He turned his back on Kurt, because it was a hell of a lot easier to talk if he didn't have to see him. (Not that he could. It was pitch black in the room, for some reason. But that didn't mean he didn't know exactly where Kurt was sitting, couldn't actually feel his presence as though he was sitting on top of him instead of being fairly far away from him.) "I don't want to mess this up, Kurt. You and I, I mean. You...I was...I was complacent before you came along. I'd gotten used to Dalton, and everybody around me, and unbreakable traditions...to tell you the truth, I'd sort of lost sight of the fact that there's a world beyond this place. Dalton tends to become its own private bubble, you know? Most of us live here, and we rarely have a reason to leave, so...when we do, it's...it's almost like we're on a completely different planet all of a sudden. God." He laughed, a little bitterly. "I sound ridiculous.

"My point is, then you showed up, and you were so...so vibrant, and yet somehow vulnerable at the same time. And you...you were like nothing I'd ever seen before. You were-you are-so incredibly intriguing, and unpredictable, and so fiercely independent...I've told you before, you actually amaze me." He could feel his cheeks burning, and dared to sneak a peek at Kurt. But it was too dark to be able to make out anything other than the boy's silhouette, slightly hunched over and leaning back against the headboard.

"I don't think I understand what you're saying," Kurt said finally, thanking whatever forces may or may not have actually existed that his voice didn't betray his weakening resolve.

"I wish...I wish I knew what I was saying," Blaine sighed ruefully. "I think that maybe I'd forgotten what loneliness felt like, Kurt. Because being here, I got kind of...desensitized, I guess. I'd think about what it might be like to really be with someone, but it would almost be...it wasn't something I thought I really wanted, much less needed. I was so wrapped up in the Warblers, and grades, and all of that, that I just lost it."

"That's not a bad thing," Kurt muttered, unable to help it. "Love sucks."

Blaine flinched, but bravely soldiered on. Because he had this awful feeling that all he was doing was making Kurt feel even worse, and he'd be damned if he didn't pull out every stop he could think of to fix that. "I don't mean just...just love. I mean...I'm so much more alive since I met you. I feel things deeper, because you've shown me that I don't just have to be flawlessly polite and charming all the time. And I don't have to hide. I can gush about Johnny Depp or that gorgeous jacket in last month's Vogue if I want, just because that's what I want to do."

Kurt cleared his throat and tried really hard to focus on his initial anger. Blaine had just said what were probably some of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him. Granted, he'd crushed Kurt's heart under his heel first, however inadvertently. Which made it a lot easier to keep a (relatively) clear head. But God, what was he supposed to say to that? Instead of speaking, he slumped over a little and picked some invisible lint off his blanket.

"I think that what I'm trying to say is..." Blaine actually had to brace himself for the rest of the sentence, "...that...that I don't know if...if we...were to..."

"Be in a relationship," Kurt filled in, almost blankly, because if he didn't go all automaton right now, he was going to lose it. Simple fact.

"Right, yes, that." He laughed nervously. "I would be...terrified. That it would just screw us up. And if I've hurt you enough that you need to...separate yourself for a while...just tell me. Because I can deal with a little distance now if it means in the long run, I get to keep you around."

"Blaine." Kurt shook his head experimentally, trying to wrap his mind around what in the hell was even happening. "I have no damn idea what's going on. You're all over the place."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He blew out a breath and buried his face in his hands. "I...when I met Jeremiah..."

"Pretty sure I don't want to hear this."

"Please. I have a point, I promise." Kurt wasn't used to hearing Blaine beg, and he didn't particularly like how he was acting at the moment, but for some reason, it was like some cold, yet extremely angry person had taken over his body. He twitched one shoulder up in a semi-shrug, and Blaine continued. "When I met Jeremiah, I thought he was cute, so I started talking to him. I didn't think anything of it, until he asked me to go get coffee." He sighed, shoving his fingers through his unruly hair (because after the afternoon he'd had, he'd needed the comfort of a hot shower. Which, ironically, hadn't helped anything at all). "I've been on dates before, I've...I've...I'm not completely inexperienced. But usually, my experiences with other guys didn't exactly follow...conventional patterns. Jeremiah seemed like more of a gentleman than any of them, and then he asked me out again. So I guess I just...thought that maybe we could turn into something. But I think...I was just fooling myself. I should have known that he didn't want...I'm just so confused."

And Blaine was saying so many things that made Kurt's heart leap into his throat, skipping hopeful beats, but God he didn't think he could survive being a rebound. Not for this boy, this beautiful, talented, supportive, yet completely ridiculous boy. "You don't put yourself out there like you did for him if you don't definitely think you're interested," Kurt replied hollowly. "And I'm sorry that it didn't work out for you."

"Kurt..."

"I want you to be happy," he interrupted, and the words tore at his throat, even though they were basically true. "And if you're going to be happy with another person, whoever that person is, I'm going to have to accept that."

Blaine had to work to breathe. "It sounds like you're saying goodbye," he managed, and to his utter mortification, his voice broke. The sound shattered Kurt's already aching heart, and he scooted closer and cautiously put his hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be, Blaine. But I...I need to...reconcile myself to the fact that we can't...to the fact that you never thought about me like that. Because I'd be lying if I tried to tell you that I didn't wish you had."

And here was where it got even more complicated. "I don't know that that's true."

Kurt's hands flew to his ears. "If you're going to do me one favor, Blaine, don't say that to me. That's going to make it impossible for me to be able to get over this, because I'm never going to be able to stop hoping."

"You don't deserve this, Kurt," Blaine muttered, and he didn't remember the last time he'd been so close to crying, felt so much like a complete asshole. "I'm sorry doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. And if there's anything that I can do to...to make it up to you..."

"I think I just need to work it out on my own," Kurt whispered around the lump in his throat.

Blaine nodded and forced himself to get to his feet, hating the guilt that weighed him down. "I'll...I guess I'll just...give you some space, then."

"It will be good for us," Kurt agreed, wondering if he was trying to convince Blaine or himself. "It will let us figure everything out, you know?"

"Yeah." But as Blaine walked away, he couldn't help thinking that maybe, he'd had everything figured out all along.