A/N: Hey guys, so here's chapter three! This one's a little heavier than the previous chapter, just a warning. Once again, I'd like to thank you all for the positive feedback! I really appreciate it :) Enjoy!

(Also I watched 'The First Time' a few hours ago asdfgghjhkkl;)

The sunlight that beamed through Kurt's thin curtains is what woke Blaine up. He opened his eyes, blinking his eyelashes a few times, only to find no-one sleeping beside him.

"...Kurt?" he mumbled sleepily, sitting up to look around the room.

And that's when he saw his boyfriend across the room, rummaging through drawers.

"Good morning, Blaine," he greeted sweetly, turning to face him.

Blaine smiled, "Hey."

Kurt got straight to work. "Now, I've decided to go for some of my clothes for today. More fashionable than Finn's, and you deserve that. But, warning: they may be a little big on you. And don't stain them. Or I'm not kissing you for a week."

Blaine rubbed his eyes and nodded, "Right."

"I quite like the outfit I've chosen, actually," Kurt said proudly, laying out the clothes on the bed as he described them.

"First, a white undershirt. Essential," he lay a white vest on the bed, and Blaine stared at it, half-awake.

"Now, I know your style is quite... um, quirky, so I've tried to incorporate that, too. For your top half, I've chosen a simple Bleu De France-and-Bondi blue chequed shirt, teal suspenders, just to stand out a little. And I know you like bowties, so I've picked you a very nice, sort of slate grey bowtie." He lay out all the clothes on the bed.

"...Awesome. Can't I just get a chance to wake up and then put the clothes on?" Blaine yawned, offering Kurt a small smile.

"Blaine, honey, I know you don't like this..." Kurt paused, "but no. Now, your bottom half."

Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Some lovely Battleship grey skinny jeans, and I've added the feature of a white belt, for a little razzle-dazzle. Socks are optional, because I know how you are. And some simple shiny black, slightly-heeled - because somtimes you need the extra height, sweetie - dress shoes with electric blue laces. So, do you like it?"

Blaine smiled - and it was genuine this time.

"That much effort, just for me?" he gushed, "Oh, Kurt..."

Kurt grinned, "I'm glad you're happy. We'll work on hair once you're dressed, okay? You can do so in the bathroom."

Kurt piled the clothes into a stack and handed them to Blaine, "run along," he added.

"Yes, sir," Blaine joked, sleepily leaving Kurt's bed and heading to the bathroom.

Blaine straightened his bowtie in the family bathroom mirror, smiling at his reflection.

He rather liked the outfit Kurt had picked for him, and the clothes were a little bit big, as Kurt had said. But really, only a little bit, it hardly made a difference.

The only feature he didn't like - in fact, he hated it - were the marks on his face. The big, ugly bruise on his cheekbone, the scratches on his jawbone and his opposite cheek. the small indentation from his father's wedding ring just above his left eyebrow.

When he smiled, he didn't look handsome. His lip was cut, his eye squinted more than usual, he had marks and blemishes. He wasn't handsome.

He stared at his reflection for an awfully long time before shaking his head and looking around the bathroom. He found a small, flowery bag. It looked like a make-up purse. He undid the zip to reveal all kinds of make-up. It must have been Carole's. It looked old, most of it was nearly used up.

He dug around until he found what he was looking for. He took the concealer and tested it on his hand. It wasn't his skin colour exactly, but it didn't look strangely unlike it.

It was probably old make-up, and Carole was so sweet. She wouldn't mind, would she?

Blaine poured some of the liquid onto his fingers and began to spread it on his face, taking care of the bruise first.

Blaine and Kurt finally arrived downstairs in the kitchen about twenty minutes since Blaine had left the bathroom. They were greeted warmly by Burt, Carole and Finn. Carole was making breakfast as she usually did.

"Oh, good morning, boys!" Carole chirped, giving both boys a kiss on the cheek as she passed them.

"Mornin', bro. Hey, Blaine," Finn managed to get out, his mouth stuffed with waffles, and he gave them a small wave.

"Good morning, kids. How are we? And Finn, swallow your food," Burt greeted as he read the newspaper.

"I'm fine, Dad," Kurt smiled and led Blaine to the table, seating him between himself and where Carole would sit once she finished breakfast.

"Good, Mr. Hummel, thank you," Blaine gave Burt a confident smile and a small nod, and Burt chuckled slightly.

"Call me Burt."

"R-Right, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Blaine, sweetheart?" Carole asked him as she handed Kurt a plate of toast, "what would you like for breakfast? And don't be nice, tell me what you really want, okay?" she laughed.

Blaine laughed, too, "Um, do you have Poptarts?" he asked quietly.

"Unhealthy," Kurt mumbled as he read a fashion magazine, a smug smile on his face.

Blaine just laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"Dude, Poptarts are like, my favourite!" Finn said with a fist pump, and Blaine grinned.

"Mom, mom! He can have the Rainbow Cookie Sandwich flavour! I give him permission!" Finn declared, and the whole table laughed a little.

"Alright, honey," Carole answered with a grin, taking a pack from the box of Poptarts and putting them in the toaster.

"So, Blaine," Burt looked at his son's boyfriend, who was holding Kurt's hand under the table, "we have to go pick up all your stuff today, okay?"

Blaine swallowed and didn't respond for a moment, but then nodded, "Yeah, of course."

"I know you might be scared, but Kurt and I will be with you, so you'll be fine," Burt said re-assuringly, and Blaine smiled.

"I... I have a key to my house in my shirt pocket. The clothes Kurt took off me. My dad... doesn't even have to answer the door," Blaine said with a great amount of relief, his smile growing.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand, "We could go after breakfast, if that's okay with you, Dad," and Burt nodded.

"That's fine."

Carole then placed a plate of Poptarts in front of Blaine, "Enjoy, Blaine!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hu- um, Carole," Blaine replied with a charming smile.

"Dude... psst, Blaine!" Finn said "quietly" across the table.

"Yes, Finn?" Blaine kept his voice low, playing along.

"Can I have one?"

Blaine stared down at his plate and then to Finn's, which had waffles on it.

"...Waffle for Poptart?" he offered, a sly smile on his face.

Finn grinned, "Deal."

Breakfast finished and everyone started to leave to begin the day - Kurt, Blaine and Burt were going to Blaine's house, Finn was planning a day of video games and "oh yeah, girl stuff too" with Rachel and Puck, who were due to arrive any moment, and Carole was getting the daily cleaning done.

Kurt and Burt had left the kitchen and headed for the car, and Blaine was to folllow after he got the house key from his shirt.

He found the key and spotted Carole washing dishes as he was about to leave,

"Um, I'll see you later, M- Carole. Breakfast was lovely, thank you."

Carole grinned, "Aw, thank you, sweetie! It's no problem, really."

Blaine gave her a nod and was just at the kitchen doorway when Carole called him back,

"Blaine?" she called.

He spun around with a smile, "Yes?"

"...Your bruises. They're healing very well. Very quickly," her voice sounded concerned, but firm at the same time.

Blaine paused. He licked his lips.

"Thank you. I- I'll see you later."

He turned on his heel and finally left.

She knew about the concealer. He knew she did.

The drive to Blaine's house was long, just over two hours. Blaine offered to drive there - "I know the directions better and everything" - but Burt refused.

They had just pulled up in Blaine's driveway and were making their way out of the car.

"Wow. Your house is huge," Kurt commented, and Blaine nodded.

"And only two people live in it. It's sort of lonely, really."

Kurt offered his hand and Blaine took it, and the two boys plus Burt arrived at the front door.

Blaine fumbled in his - well, Kurt's - jeans pocket and found the key. He fit it in the keyhole and unlocked the door and opened it very slowly and quietly.

He crept in the door into the main hallway.

"Is your dad not at work?" Kurt asked.

"Be quiet!" Blaine whisper-snapped.

"Hey!" Burt whispered sternly.

"...I'm sorry. And no, it's his day off. Typical, I know." Blaine mumbled, blushing.

Blaine walked up to the long staircase, "Um, my room's upstairs. I'll be as quick as I can, okay?"

"Are you sure you don't want one of us with you?" Burt asked, but Blaine instantly shook his head.

"I'm being brave for a change. I'll be fine."

He gave Kurt's hand one last squeeze before letting it go, and gave Burt a nod.

"Be careful!" Kurt whispered.

"Don't worry," Blaine winked, "I'll be okay."

And with that, he disappeared up the stairs and into his room.

Blaine had grabbed a few different suitcases and bags and was beginning to pack his stuff. He didn't need it all now, but he needed enough. He was sure he could collect the rest somehow.

He was clearing out his chest of drawers, bending down to reach the bottom drawer.

And then it happened. He was pushed down. He didn't fall himself. Someone forced him down.

"Where were you?"

Blaine looked up at his father, petrified, "Dad, I was ju-"

"What are you packing all this stuff away for?" Mr. Anderson yelled, kicking at his son's legs, but only once.

"Dad, just listen to me, please?" Blaine begged, and tears pricked at his eyes.

"Well, go on then. Tell me," Mr. Anderson spat.

"I... this isn't right, Dad. What you're doing to me. I - I ran. When I woke up," Blaine swallowed hard, "after y-you knocked me out."

"Sob stories aren't going to get you anywhere, Blaine," his father growled, taking Blaine by the wrist. Grasping it too tight. "Talk."

"I - I ran. I told you," Blaine let the tears fall from his eyes.

Mr. Anderson punched him. Hard.

"Don't cry. I didn't raise my son to be a pussy."

"You didn't raise me at all!" Blaine screamed back, and his father punched him again.

"Don't talk back to me, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." Blaine whimpered pathetically, spitting blood from his mouth.

"Tell me where you went."

"Dad, please, I do-"

Another punch.

"Tell me."

Blaine held back a sob and choked out, "T-to... K-Kurt's house."

"Kurt? Your faggot boyfriend?" Mr. Anderson bellowed, and Blaine began crying loudly.

"We're in love, Dad! We're in love and you can't do anything about it!" he wailed, and that's when Mr. Anderson took him by the arms. He lifted him by his arms only, raised his knee and hit his son in the crotch. He threw him against the chest of drawers and started kicking his body. Any part of his body. Anywhere he could reach. His head. His arms. His stomach. His face. His back. His torso. Anywhere.

Blaine started screaming. He started screaming loud. "Kurt! Kurt, help me, please!"

Another kick. His ribs.

"Help me! Someone h-help me, p-please!"

"Shut up!" Another kick. His hip.

"Kurt! Burt! H-Help! Help me! Help me! Help me!" It was becoming like a chant for Blaine.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Blaine!" Another kick. His stomach.

"Blaine!"

Kurt and Burt stood at the doorway, "Get off of him!" Kurt yelled to Mr. Anderson.

"Kurt, watch yourself!" Burt warned him, taking his son by the arm.

Mr. Anderson turned to them and strolled over.

"Kurt, it's so nice to meet you," he said in a sickeningly sweet tone, "I've heard so much about you."

He didn't hesistate. He punched Kurt right in the face.

"Hey! You don't hit my son and get away with it!" Burt yelled, boiling over with anger, "Kurt! If you can, get Blaine, take him to the car. I'll deal with this son-of-a-bitch."

Kurt was still in shock, yet he protested, "Dad, I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Kurt, just do it!"

Kurt nodded quickly and ran past the two fathers to his boyfriend, who was panting heavily and bleeding against his chest of drawers. There were tears streaming down his face, and he had a nosebleed.

"Blaine... oh my god..." Kurt's voice was a whisper.

"I-I was wrong, Kurt..." Blaine panted, his voice weak from screaming for help and in pain, "n-never leave me alone a-again."

He passed out.

When Blaine next woke up, it was to very bright lights. There was a whole lot of rustle and bustle going on around him, he could hear a lot of talking. His head was pounding. His muscles ached.

He didn't know what to do. He opened his eyes to more lights, shining directly down on him. He was lying on his back.

"...h-hello?" he called out. Wow, his voice sounded terrible. It sounded hoarse and weak, his mouth was dry, his throat hurt.

"Blaine?" a voice answered back, "Blaine, you're awake!"

Then something else popped into his line of vision. It was Kurt, which is what he thought. He looked tired, worried. He looked scared. But he looked happy. He was smiling.

"Kurt..." Blaine smiled back, "where am I?"

"In hospital, honey. I thought that was pretty obvious."

"I'm awake two minutes and already you're sassy."

Kurt laughed,"I'm sorry. I'm just glad you're okay," his voice was wobbly.

"Hey, don't cry," Blaine felt for Kurt's hand and took it when he found it, "I'm okay. You knew I was going to be okay. I'm always going to be okay."

Kurt nodded and sat back down in the chair next to Blaine's bed, wiping a tear from his cheek.

He took a plastic cup from the bedside table and handed it to Blaine, "Water. Drink it. I can tell you need it."

Blaine nodded and took the water, gulping it down very fast.

"Dad and Carole went to the cafe. Finn, Puck and Rachel are just looking around, I think," Kurt told him as he drank the water.

"Why are they all here? Didn't they have plans?"

"Blaine, they can't be told you're in the hospital and just ignore it."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, "I guess."

Kurt looked his boyfriend up and down, frowning.

"Do you... hurt?" he asked, his tone dropping.

Blaine nodded, sitting up a little, "Well, of course I do. I mean... he hurt me. Quite a bit."

"The doctor says you've got a fractured rib. He said all you have to do is-"

"Take medication and look after my lungs. I - I know, it's not the first time," Blaine cut in, looking down at the bedsheets afterwards.

"Oh, Blaine..." Kurt mumbled sadly, planting a kiss on Blaine's cheek.

"It's fine. I mean, it hurts, but it's fine."

Just then, a doctor came into the room with a smile.

"Hello, Kurt," he gave Kurt a nod, "And Blaine, this is my first time meeting you. Hello, I'm Dr. Holden. I'm your doctor."

"I figured. Hi, it's nice to meet you. And thank you," Blaine gave him a little smile, offering his hand to shake.

Dr. Holden shook his hand and then flipped through his medical chart,

"Blaine, I'm here just to tell you of your injuries and what to do with them. Which doesn't sound very cheerful, but it has to get done," the doctor chuckled while reading the chart.

"How bad is it?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, it could be a lot worse, believe me. Basically, Blaine, you've got a fractured rib, extensive bruising on your torso, a few scratches here and there, bruising on your legs and your previous injuries."

"Thank you, doctor," Blaine replied, not looking up from his bedsheets.

"You'll have a lot of muscle pain to deal with. You'll ache for some time," the doctor added.

Blaine nodded, "Okay."

"...Alright, I think we're finished here. Anything else?"

"Doc? Could I have... pain medication?" Blaine asked, his voice shaky, and Dr. Holden nodded.

"I'll have a nurse send you a small dose."

"Thank you."

Dr. Holden gave the two boys a small nod again, before leaving the room.

Kurt gave Blaine a concerned look, "Are you okay?"

"It hurts. I hurt," Blaine mumbled back, his tone nothing short of miserable.

Kurt grew more and more concerned, "...Blaine, what's wrong? Honey, talk to me."

Blaine finally looked up, his face a distraught, crumpled mess.

"It hurts, Kurt," he choked out, closing his eyes for a moment, tears spilling over, "I just want it to end."

He paused and tried to collect himself, wiping the tears from his cheeks, sniffing. His voice was thick and shaky,

"I'm hurting. I'm really, really hurting."

And Kurt knew he meant more than the cuts and bruises.