Blaine's worry increased the minute he saw Kurt that morning. His boyfriend looked tired – bone tired and Blaine immediately wanted to bundle him back into his Nav and send him back home to his bed. It was evident in the rather wooden way that he walked, and from the hug that seemed just a bit too desperate, as if Kurt was trying to draw strength from him. He almost whined when Blaine pulled back, a soft protest against the loss of the comfort that was Blaine's frame. And, when Kurt looked up at him, Blaine saw that he was blinking rather owlishly, something he would have found adorable if not for the circumstances behind it.

"Had a rough night?" Blaine asked, leading him, not to the rec room as was customary, but rather to a bench beneath a tree. It wasn't too cold out, and Kurt was in a thick coat. Blaine knew that they could handle thirty or so minutes out in the fresh air before Blaine would get him a strong cup of coffee before class began to give his energy levels a slight boost.

"I didn't sleep much," Kurt admitted dully, waiting without being asked for Blaine to sit.

He reached out first to take and place Kurt's bag beside the bench before patting his lap expectantly. Momentarily, Kurt's head was pillowed on his thigh, and Blaine dug his fingers into his hair, creating a soothing sensation that immediately drew a yawn from the younger teen.

"How many hours did you manage?" Blaine inquired.

"Three at most," Kurt mumbled, closing his eyes. "I just had things on my mind, and after a while, I couldn't get my brain to shut up."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Things," Kurt hedged, twisting to his side so he could sort of nuzzle his cheek at the material of Blaine's leg. "It's nothing bad Blaine, please don't worry about it."

"You're not really being encouraging here, poppet," although he was careful to keep his voice soft and soothing. Kurt had gotten here a bit earlier than usual; by his summation, he could probably rest for about forty minutes and take the edge off his tiredness.

"I'll tell you when I wake up? I'm sleepy?"

Blaine couldn't help but smile at the quaint way in which Kurt was seemingly asking for permission to sleep. Vulnerable Kurt was quite an enchanting sight as it usually was and so he agreed. Besides, he added ruefully, to say anything else was to risk Kurt going from tired and sleepy to tired, sleepy and weepy. "Go ahead and sleep for a bit. I wish though you'd have just stayed home if you were this tired.

"Mmmhmm," was the nearest thing to a response Kurt gave him before seemingly falling asleep.

It was with actual regret that Blaine gently woke him a while later. He did it as gradual as he could, stroking his cheek, flicking his nose and jostling his leg until Kurt, with a whine, opened his eyes, but not after giving his offending leg a half hearted whack. Kurt gave a shuddering sigh, and when he turned so that his face was upwards, Blaine saw that he looked only the slightest bit more rested. He would still be in for a rough day though, and Blaine mentally ran his way through Kurt's schedule, morose when he realised that there really was no opportunity for him to catch a bit more sleep that day.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured, reaching up to trace the edge of Blaine's jaw. He ended up giggling when Blaine turned and playfully nipped at his fingers, growling ever so slightly. "You're silly!"

"And you like it," Blaine retorted, before grabbing his hand and mock-chomping on his fingers for a few seconds. The mirth left his eyes after a few seconds though. When he spoke next, it was with a serious from which Kurt knew that there would be no escape from whatever it is Blaine wanted. "We are going to talk about this," he told him. Blaine preferred not to have to do this, to adopt this rather authoritative tone that left no room for questioning. But, he had learnt the move from Finn, and to a lesser extent Burt, who had both told him bluntly that there were times when Kurt's desires had to be ignored for what was truly better for him. It wasn't as if Kurt would give in easily; inevitably he'd pout and grumble his complaints in a manner that Blaine sometimes found amusing.

He wondered at times if this was the remnants of a stubborn personality Kurt's family assured him that he had had at one point. It wasn't as if he didn't believe them. At times, when Kurt seemed completely at ease and relaxed, Blaine could see snippets of a Kurt that he only heard about in stories from his family. Occasionally Kurt would snark at him, or, more commonly, David, who tended to tease him good-naturedly a lot. There were other times when he would overthrow Andrew's thoughts on whatever topic they were discussing (usually what Andrew should buy his girlfriend or where on a date) and give him a look that clearly said "You are beneath me" that Blaine found fascinating. Little snippets, all that usually disappeared within a few minutes that hinted at a Kurt Blaine had not had the privilege of meeting, and sort of wanted to. He loved Kurt as he was, and always would. But still, he was a bit curious about the fire he knew was but a little ember within him.

Kurt nodded, a movement Blaine felt more than saw. "I was planning on telling you anyway. Are you busy lunchtime?"

"I'm free," Blaine agreed quickly. "I'm done researching for my presentation. How do you plan on occupying my time?"

Kurt sat up then, and Blaine wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close into his frame. Blaine wasn't fooled; he knew that the change in position was one that would give Kurt the freedom to hide his face as he wanted while speaking. His voice was oddly shy when he spoke next, "Can you meet me in Senior Comms lunchtime then?"

The request was an odd one, and Blaine stared at the top of his head for a long moment consequently. The room was Warbler territory and so it wasn't uncommon for them to utilise it as they pleased. But, this was the first time that Kurt had ever actively expressed a desire to go there.

Kurt," Blaine inquired carefully, "what is going on?" He was starting to wonder if he should place a call to Finn, something Kurt seemed to sense because he looked up suddenly, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he reached over to grasp a bit of Kurt's blazer carefully.

"Blaine, please," he whispered, the barest hint of panic in his eyes besides the tiredness.

Blaine understood then; his boyfriend only wanted his quick, unwavering obedience in this, and, not wanting to upset him any further than he had managed already, he nodded, stymieing his curiosity for now.

"Okay," he agreed. "Can you promise me one thing though Kurt? Can you swear to me that this is not detrimental, or truly hurting you in any way?"

Kurt laughed, a bit hysterically in Blaine's opinion, but he shook his head roughly despite that, before pressing it against Blaine's shoulder.

"It's nothing detrimental Blaine," he promised, borrowing his word. "Please don't worry. I'll tell you all at lunch time, either way. I swear. I want to, but I'm not quite ready just yet, and I don't think we have enough time yet. So please, just wait for me till lunchtime."

His ramble did nothing to reassure Blaine, but he knew that Kurt was right. If he wanted to get him warmed up and caffeinated before his first class, they would have to leave here now. As much as he didn't like it, Blaine accepted that this would truly have to wait.

The universe was kind today, Kurt thought, from his spot at the piano. An emergency in the office had ended his Government class prematurely, and, while the rest of his classmates had poured out into the grounds to enjoy this surprising forty minutes of freedom, Kurt had simply fetched an iced-coffee from the nearest vending machine before heading here to the Commons Room. It had been thankfully empty when he had arrived - that was not something he had not even considered when he had asked Blaine to meet him here at lunch. Kurt felt bad; despite all he had said, he had seen the way that his boyfriend had kept shooting worried glances his way that morning, and had not missed the way he had stopped to have a soft conversation with Trent after he had dropped him off. The taller, burly Warbler had spent the two classes they shared observing him and, in an act Kurt was a lot more appreciative of, helping deflect the teacher's attention away from Kurt whenever the tiredness grew to be too much and he needed just a few minutes to have a micro-nap to recharge just a bit. It wasn't as if Kurt had been afraid of getting into trouble; he was afraid of getting sent to the Nurse's station immediately or worse, home.

He was the school's baby, something that at times left him feeling loved, and at other times annoyed him endlessly. Everyone kept an eye out on him, and any deviation from the standard sent up red flags. He appreciated their concern; he truly did. Having a school and populace that actually gave a damn about him was quite the eye-opening experience, but, at times, like this, it was overwhelming. Everyone was entitled to a less than stellar day without it having to spiral into a monumental crisis right? He thought that at least.

Kurt sighed, trying to rid himself of such thoughts, and, in a more futile attempt, of the tiredness he was feeling now. It had been so long since he had suffered from a lack of sleep to this extent and it definitely was getting to him, lowering his defences on a day when he definitely needed them up. His fingers, almost absentmindedly danced along some of the keys, producing a simple melody. Piano was something he had done up until high school; after that he had just lost the zeal for it although his teacher had claimed he had been quite good at it. His dad hadn't even been that surprised. After all, Kurt had been all gung-ho about ballet, and that had been given up as well when he had hit middle school. In hindsight he had saved himself a lot more pain that way...

Kurt sighed, his fingers clanging down noisily as he bent so that he could lean his head against the edge of the piano, breathing in deeply. He still wasn't sure what he should do. Was he making himself a victim unnecessarily? Was there really a way past all of the doubts and uncertainties he had, and could it be plausible that a single, otherwise insignificant decision like this could be the remedy to all that he was dealing with now? Kurt didn't even know.

With a sniff, he straightened, reached out and plopped his right hand onto the keys. He removed the leather glove he used for protection, dropping it onto his lap for now as he observed his fingers. They were only trembling faintly today, and, his body had seemingly given him a reprieve because the pain was little more than a persistent annoyance - one he had actually grown accustomed to and so could ignore in favour of the environment around him.

Some would say he was lucky. After all, look at Artie. Artie would never walk, but he didn't let his disability hold him back, did he? But, then again, Kurt thought darkly, it wasn't as if Artie had had ambitions to be a professional dancer. He sighed again, the words of all those who cared about him, as well as the medical professionals, resonating within him. Everyone else seemed to have a lot more faith in him than he did for himself.

All of them kept telling him that losing his arm's function was not the worst thing in the world, and now that he was in this stage of 'healing' (a term he still found dubious) they kept telling him to work hard, persevere and keep the faith that anything would be possible. But Kurt couldn't see it, couldn't believe it. He had stored all his hope in his vision of leaving Lima and never looking back. Now that he had had those dreams crushed, he was afraid, truly afraid of daring to dream about anything else. Except, Kurt thought, he wasn't the kind to just give into fear - at least he didn't use to be. He was the one who used to stride through McKinley with confidence, putting down the jocks with cutting remarks even as they dumpster dumped him. He was the one who argued against any seeming injustices against himself and his friends. All that he had seen the night before returned to him, and, surprisingly, given how many tears he had shed the night before, he felt his eyes prickling again. Was that Kurt gone? Was the Kurt that Mr Shue had unknowingly saved from suicide by opening the Glee club once again the only person he was allowed to be now? The one who was meek and often quiet, who just went through the motions of the day clinging to brief moments of comfort and love he had access to?

"I don't want to be him," Kurt whispered, his voice watery, "I don't want to be him again. I don't want to be him anymore," he added, his voice gaining just the tiniest of strength.

He glared at his hand, and at his trembling fingers, uncaring of the tears that were slipping loose. "I don't want to be a victim all my life. I rather be a survivor." Kurt didn't know what pushed him to, but he concentrated, pouring every single ounce of himself into his hand, looking, concentrating, willing. And then it happened.

It was just one tiny movement, but Kurt's index finger lifted briefly before falling back down. Kurt made a sound that was half way between a sob and a cry of victory, as, with a next burst of pure effort, he managed the movement again, this time holding the finger up for several seconds before his body regained its control and it fell down limply. It didn't matter though. If only for five seconds, Kurt had taken control. He wasn't a victim, truly he wasn't. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of his elbow as he cried; now not out of sadness or misery, but out of pure relief.

Kurt had mostly gotten his emotions back under fragile rein by the time the school bell signalled the beginning of lunch time. He knew that, given how worried he had made his boyfriend, that he would have probably minutes at best before Blaine reached here. There would be no hiding the fact that he had been crying, and so Kurt had settled for just using his handkerchief to dab at his face as best as he could and try to clear his throat ever so often, both as a warm up and to just not sound entirely weepy. He still had one more hurdle to climb over before he could call it quits for the day. He was feeling tired, so very tired, and he had already mostly decided to go to the nurse's office after this and just nap until the school day ended.

Kurt was just about done shoving his handkerchief back into a pocket when the door opened and Blaine entered. Kurt straightened, offering him a semblance of a smile. It failed though to do anything except increase his boyfriend's anxiety however, before his face reflected immediate concern.

"Poppet?" Blaine asked worriedly, dropping his bag and hurrying across the room. Kurt almost stopped him from doing it, but the promise of comfort was too great and he allowed himself to sink into Blaine's embrace, breathing in his scent, letting it give him strength. A part of him berated himself for it, telling him that he had grown too dependent on everyone and that, in this moment, he should stand forward on his own two feet. The other part of him though forcibly reminded him that strength did not negate the need for affection, and so he allowed Blaine to just hold him for a good while before he pulled back.

"I've done nothing but worry you so far today," he told him softly, with a sniffle.

Blaine's hands move so that they are on his arms, just resting lightly. "Kurt, please speak to me. What can I do to help?"

That was his boyfriend, Kurt thought fondly. He was ready to solve a problem he knew nothing about.

"I love you," Kurt told him, and reached forward to steal a kiss. "I-" he broke off, and lowered his head to take a shuddering breath. "I just need you to listen to me, okay? I think you'll understand by the end."

"Okay," Blaine said, although his voice still reflected confusion and more than a little concern.

Kurt sighed, and decided that, for the moment, perhaps, keeping his eyes close was best. It took him three times to actually get his voice to work, although, even to his own ears when he begun, it sounded weak and uncertain. He wasn't even completely certain what he would sing when his lips parted; he had originally thought of using Blaine's song. But instead "Something has changed within me, something is not the same," escaped him, and in that moment, he realised that "Defying Gravity" was perhaps, indeed, his best option.

He felt the way Blaine's hands suddenly tightened, but he pressed on, knowing that to stop would break him. He instead focussed on all the feelings within him, all the uncertainties, doubts and desires, and tried to push that into his words. His voice grew more steady, the words gaining weight so that, by the time he finished the first chorus, he could feel it within him, that Kurt who knew how to dominate.

As he continued, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, seeing and yet not seeing Blaine as he continued. He wasn't only singing to him, he realised, he was singing to his family and friends as well, letting them know that he was and would be okay. He didn't even worry anymore if his voice would be affected from months of disuse. Just like with his finger, he simply willed his voice to obey the feelings within him, and all doubts melted away. As the song reached its crescendo he hit the high notes with the same ease he hit the low ones, his voice now soaring as he sang the final words and a silence descended.

There was silence, a deep, heavy fog of silence that was interrupted only by his own ragged breathing as he tried to catch his breath…and the sound of quiet weeping. Kurt blinked, the room refocusing completely, and it was only then that he realised that it was Blaine who was now quietly crying as he looked at him.

"B-Blaine?" Kurt said anxiously, wondering at the reaction.

"K-Kurt," was all the older teenager managed before his hands moved again and Kurt found himself once again crushed into Blaine's form in a hug that was tight and secure.

It was the first time that Kurt had experienced Blaine crying, and the sound of it inevitably led to a few tears on his part as well. He clung to his boyfriend, feeling the emotions radiating off him, feeling the ones emanating from himself. He wasn't even aware of when they both slid down so that they were seated on the floor, still cradling each other, Blaine's head resting on his shoulder as the teenager slowly regained control. It took him a minute or so after that to pull back and to look at him. Kurt was a bit stunned to see nothing but love, affection and pride shining in his slightly reddened eyes, even as he reached out with the end of his sleeve to wipe at his tears, Blaine returning the favour right after.

"Was I that bad?" he asked in a shaky voice, trying to draw a laugh.

Blaine did indeed barked out one, looking away for a moment as he shook his head before looking back at him. "I'm sorry poppet, but... you moved me, you moved me in a way I've never felt before. Kurt, I was not ... holy cow... there were so many things going through my head for the entire morning about what could be wrong. Never could I guess you were just building up the courage to do this.

"I know how much singing meant to you Kurt. And to hear you sing out like that, and so beautifully…it moved me in a way I did not think possible. You made me fall in love with you all over again."

Kurt's cheeks flushed a dark red in embarrassment, even as a part of him cheered at the praise. Blaine's opinion mattered most to him after all. "So you liked it?"

The older teenager laughed again, reaching over to cup his cheek. "Kurt Elizabeth, the word to describe how I felt about that has not been made yet. Thank you for granting me such a wonderful privilege."

"You sparked it," Kurt admitted, leaning into the touch.

"Me?"

"I wanted to help you. But to help you, I had to help me first."

Blaine looked at him for a moment oddly, as if trying to decipher what he was saying. Kurt saw the moment he comprehended, for his eyes widened. "Poppet, you-" he broke off for a moment, closing the small distance to kiss Kurt's forehead. "You put yourself through that for me?"

"You needed a counter-tenor," he returned, warmed by the kiss, "And, if you think I'm worthy enough to share your Gran's song with, you have one?"

Kurt ended his statement as a question, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He knew what that song meant to Blaine and he didn't want to colour it in any way either.

Blaine's eyes softened further, if that was even possible. "Kurt," he whispered, moving so that their lips were only a hair's breadth apart, "you're the one I want to share everything with."

"Gentlemen," Blaine said loudly that afternoon, from his spot in the centre of the room, "I have an announcement."

"Don't tell me you're transferring schools," Andrew said with a moan, "because if that's what you're going to say, I vote for the make-out plan after all."

Blaine laughed although he did turn to where Kurt was seated in his usual spot and waggled his eye-brows in a way that caused the teenager to roll his eyes affectionately. He looked tired, Blaine thought briefly, but after all, it had been quite an exhausting day for them both - an emotional rollercoaster if you would. But it would all be ending in a few minutes. They just had to get through this bit, and Kurt could head home to a well deserved tenure in his bed.

"Nothing so drastic, I'm afraid," Blaine retorted. "My lords Councilmen," he said then, turning and offering a mock bow to Wes, Thad and David who just shook their heads while waiting to see what all of this was about, "I have the solution to our dilemma."

That caught the attention of everyone.

"What are you talking about Blaine?" Wes asked suspiciously.

"You haven't made one of the freshmen an eunuch, right?" David added.

"Of course not," Blaine protested, "but, what I have done is found myself a duet partner, so you three can let Crawford know that their assistance in that venture will no longer be required."

A stunned silence descended in the room at that point. "Blaine," Wes said finally, "what have you done?"

Blaine gave him a roughish grin, before addressing all of them. "I will admit, this is a bit unorthodox, but I'm going to ask you all for your indulgence. Can we put aside Warbler conventions for a few minutes? There is someone who needs an audition if this is to work."

"Who's the person?" Jeff asked.

Blaine didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to where Kurt was seated, mildly amused by the level of his theatrics before holding out his hand to him. He pulled him to his feet carefully, and bent to press a gallant kiss to his hand before pulling him forward. "Kurt?" he said then, gesturing to the room whose occupants expressions ranged widely.

Kurt huffed a little, but decided that for all the stress he had caused him that morning, he could play along with Blaine's little game.

"Hello," he said, giving them all a small smile, "my name is Kurt Hummel and I'm auditioning both to become a member of the Warblers, and, to be this doofus' duet partner."