Thanks to all those who reviewed and hit this story up. I was worried that it was a bit too OOC especially the part where Blaine is taking drugs. Forgive my tenses and any grammatical errors. No beta. Hope you enjoy! I would love to hear what you think.

"You're my living proof, my love is alive and not dead."

He was sitting on his bed for nearly 6 hours, not daring to move, afraid that he might fall apart if he does. His eyes are constantly fixed on the carpeted floor, afraid to let it wander in the room that held so much memories, but once in a while his eyes would cast a furtive glance to his desk. The digital clock showed it was 14 minutes past 2 in the morning.

Kurt felt his presence before he heard it.

"Kurt?" Blaine called out. He slurred Kurt's name probably from a combination of disbelief and of the alcohol he had been drinking judging from the smell of him.

Kurt looked at Blaine for the first time since New York, genuinely looked at him. It was immediately apparent that he lost some weight. His eyes were bloodshot with dark rings under them. His hair was lacking its usual amount of hair gel so it stuck up in some places. His shoulders were slouched, lacking the usual air of 'Blaine Anderson'. He was dressed in a plain grey V-neck shirt and jeans. The broken look in Blaine's face mixed in with everything else snapped Kurt's intention of indoor-voices and diplomacy.

"What the hell have you been doing?" Kurt shouted at him. He could barely fight back the tears that immediately pooled in his eyes. "How dare you! How dare you do... this?" Gesturing at him.

"What?" Blaine asked in a mumble. He still couldn't believe that this wasn't some drunken hallucination, that Kurt, after nearly 6 weeks of silence, is standing in his room at 2 in the morning.

"Have you seen yourself!" Kurt screamed. He was so mad. So angry at Blaine, at himself, at everything.

"And this." Kurt snatched the plastic bag on top of the desk and waved it in Blaine's face. Desperately wishing for him to deny it. "Drugs, Blaine!"

"Why are you going through my things?" Blaine asked him, his eyes glued on the plastic in Kurt's hand.

"Well it's not exactly going through your things when it's in plain sight. Are you being a complete idiot on purpose? What on earth were you thinking? Were you even thinking?" Kurt yelled. He was past the point of caring if the entire state of Ohio heard him. "You're not even going to try to deny it."

Seeing the truth of Tina's suspicion drove him angry beyond comprehension. Kurt was the one who should be falling apart, not Blaine. Blaine was supposed to be the stronger one. He was Kurt's source of courage. And seeing him like this, beaten and broken, was more than what Kurt could handle.

Blaine eyes met his own. "Why do you even care? You wouldn't answer my calls, my texts, my emails, my messages." His voice now slowly rising to match Kurt's. "I don't understand why you're even here. You've made it pretty clear you want nothing to do with me."

"Of course I care. You're the love of my life." Kurt shouted. Wiping at the errant tears that cascaded down his cheeks. "I'm mad at you but that doesn't mean I stopped caring."

"You've ignored me this past month. Nothing for five entire weeks, so forgive me if somehow I didn't get the idea that you still gave a damn." Blaine said just as loud but the break of his voice took away the over all anger. He sounded as if talking was breaking him but was still desperate to hold it all together.

"So drugs? Really, Blaine?" Kurt said. "Drugs, alcohol, partying. The trifecta."

Blaine moved his gaze to look at the floor. This and his lack of response sent another wave of rage through Kurt. "Or is there more to it? Smoking your way into an early death? Sleeping around like a whore? Going to rob a ba -"

It was too late when he realized what he'd said. Blaine snapped his eyes to meet his. The horrible hurt under the false defiance on Blaine's face was enough to stop Kurt's breath, turning his anger to something close to dread that he'd gone too far.

"Of course. Whore. That's me." The way Blaine's voice broke reminded Kurt of how he sounded that time when he asked him if he liked Chandler. Blaine sounded so small, far smaller than Blaine should ever be. It made Kurt want to reach out to him, to hold him. Kurt wanted to say something, to make him understand but understand what? It was just all too confusing, too painful, too much.

The sound of the door slamming shut made Kurt find it a little bit harder to breath.