Wow. You guys are awesome! I'm sorry it's been so long, a close family member died and even though this chapter had been ready for three weeks I haven't really wanted to post anything, sorry. The good news is the next chapter is almost written, so that should be up within another week your reviews are like gold dust to me, review and the next chapter will be up quicker, wink wink nudge nudge ;) Oooh, did anyone see the Big Brother episode? AHHHHH! I LOVE BLAINE! I think I died when he was in the shower… and Pottermore is up! Any Potterheads in my readers? Anyways, here's the next chapter.

Chapter Ten – Pearl

Six weeks. Six weeks was how long Kurt had been in the hospital. It was how long Blaine had sat by his side, day and night. It was how long the police had been chasing after Dave Karofsky. And it was how long Burt Hummel had been unable to be alone with his son while he was awake.

Burt wasn't mad at Kurt or Blaine; Blaine had been there for Kurt when Burt was unable to do so, and he had proved that he was in fact perfect for Kurt. Burt was mad, furious, fuming at Karofsky for causing all of this, causing Kurt to be hurt, and Blaine to have to miss school. The elder Hummel knew that Karofsky had been seen by a gun shop near to Lima, and he was worried sick for his son and his son's boyfriend. Hadn't they been through enough? Wasn't Kurt having major surgery enough for the jock? Why did he have to destroy Kurt's junior year like this?

The mechanic made his way to Kurt's hospital room, coffee cups in hand, but stopped when he heard the hushed voices of Kurt and Blaine talking inside.

"I feel so guilty Blaine, I want to be able to talk to my dad, to Carole and Finn and my friends. I want to be able to hug my dad and let him tell me it will all be okay but I can't."

"Kurt no-one's blaming you. You shouldn't be guilty, this isn't your fault! You need to recover and with time, care and therapy you'll be able to do all those things again. All I'm saying is that these people won't hurt you."

Kurt laughed a quiet, sardonic laugh into Blaine's chest where he was curled up. "I want to believe that Blaine." Looking up here saw his dad outside the window to the room, "Can you get dad in here? I think I want to talk to him."

Blaine kissed the top of Kurt's head as he smiled proudly.

"Of course I can my love."

When Burt Hummel was told his son was raped, all he had wanted to do was scoop Kurt up into an enormous bear hug and promise him that it would be okay. But he couldn't. So when Blaine told him that Kurt was asking for him, his heart skipped a beat.

"Kurt, buddy?" The elder man stepped hesitantly into the hospital room. Not much had changed over the six weeks that Kurt had been in the hospital; dead flowers were replaced with new ones, and the DVDs for Kurt to watch on the shelf were swapped with new ones on each visit home, but the bed still lay in the middle, several chairs and a sofa in the corner, and at least five different machines were still hooked up to Kurt, not including the IV lines.

"Dad?" A tiny voice replied from the shrunken figure in the bed, "I'm so sorry dad, I didn't mean to be scared of you, I couldn't help it! When I was in my c-coma all I-I could hear w-was y-you and B-Blaine and Carol and F-Finn supporting m-me and then w-when I woke u-up I w-was so s-scared of y-you all a-and I-I felt s-so ungrateful!"

Kurt's words were lost in the louds sobs radiating from his body, but even those couldn't stop the happiness in Burt's heart that came when he realised his son was talking to him again.

Kurt was on the road to his emotional recovery at last, and while he still wouldn't allow himself to be touched by anyone other than Blaine, Burt knew this meant Kurt might start speaking to the rest of his family and friends soon too.

The jock went over his plan one last time in his head; he would sneak in through the service entrance to the hospital up to the spare utilities room where he knew he would be able to find an extra pair of scrubs. From there it would be easy to reach the floor on which Kurt's room was on, and then wait for the guards to be distracted before moving into Kurt's room once more.

It would be easy to take the annoying boyfriends out… and then Kurt was all his. He could finish what he'd started all those weeks ago in the Dalton dorm room.

That afternoon Kurt and Blaine were lying in the hospital bed alone; the Hudmels had left to catch up on work and homework an hour ago. It was a Saturday afternoon and the ward was bustling with nurses trying to finish their rounds to be free to enjoy a Saturday night on the town.

Neither boy was speaking, each lost in their own thoughts, when Kurt asked Blaine a question that made Blaine's heat skip a beat.

"Blaine, can you pass me my iPod please? I want to sing you something."

Blaine blinked once before he leapt into action, passing Kurt the iPod and sitting on the small loveseat At the end of the bed expectantly.

"I'm not sure how good I'll be; I haven't sung in nearly two months." Kurt bowed his head as a tear slipped down his cheek.

Blaine stood up and wiped the tear away. Kissing Kurt chastely on the lips he murmured, "It doesn't matter. It'll be perfect, just like you."

Kurt blushed softly as he selected the song. It wasn't his usual genre, but the artist would make Blaine smile, something he hadn't done enough of lately, and something Kurt couldn't help but feel responsible for.

The music started slowly, and Kurt began what would later become his motto and anthem.

She is a pyramid
But with him she's just a grain of sand
This love's too strong like my cement
Squeezing out the life that should be let in

Blaine gasped as he recognised the song, and tears welled up in his eyes.

She was a hurricane
But now she's just a gust of wind
She used to set the sails of a thousand ships
Was a force to be reckoned with

She could be a Statue of Liberty
She could be a Joan of Arc
But he's scared of the light that's inside of her
So he keeps her in the dark

Oh, she used to be a pearl, oh
Yeah, she used to rule the world, oh
Can't believe, she's become a shell of herself
'Cause she used to be a pearl

She was unstoppable
Move fast just like an avalanche
But now she's stuck deep in cement
Wishing that they never ever met

She could be a Statue of Liberty
She could be a Joan of Arc
But he's scared of the light that's inside of her
So he keeps her in the dark

Oh, she used to be a pearl, oh
Yeah, she used to rule the world, oh
Can't believe, she's become, a shell of herself
'Cause she used to be a

Do you know that there's a way out
There's a way out, there's a way out, there's a way out
You don't have to be held down
Be held down, be held down, be held down

New Directions stopped short in the doorway as they listened to a voice so soft and pure full of anguish. Rachel let a tear run down her face, quickly followed by another, as she realised that the voice could only belong to Kurt, and if he was singing again he must be feeling much better.

'Cause I used to be a shell
Yeah, I let him rule my world, my world, oh yeah
But I will come and grow strong
And I can still go on, and no one can take my pearl

You don't have to be a shell, no
You're the one that rules your world, oh
You are strong and you'll learn that you can still go on
And you'll always be a, a pearl
She is unstoppable

As the song ended Kurt broke down in more sobs, hating himself for being so weak all of the time. Sensing his thoughts, Blaine moved to wrap an arm around him while smiling at the New Directions who were stood at the door.

"Kurt, that was beautiful." Mercedes whispered in shock.

Kurt, who wasn't yet ready to talk and be comfortable around large crowds simply smiled slightly at his best friend before snuggling back into Blaine's chest.

"Guys we appreciate you coming," Blaine stated, squeezing Kurt's hand, "but I think it is bed time for the both of us. It's been an emotional day."

Puck nodded and wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulders as they chorused "Goodbye Kurt!" and turned back out of the door.

"Why did you do that?" Kurt yawned into Blaine's muscled shoulder.

"Because you're falling asleep as we speak!" The curly-haired boy exclaimed with a laugh.

Kurt giggled quietly, the sound sending shivers up Blaine's back. The older boy curled up into Blaine's chest and fell silent; his steady breaths letting Blaine know he was asleep.

Blaine took the time in which he was awake and Kurt was not to take a good look at his love; Kurt was still hooked up to an IV line (feeding him the much-needed nutrients as his stomach was still badly bruised and could not take much solid food), a heartbeat monitor was attached to his chest, oxygen was being fed into Kurt's nose through tiny clear tubes and the obnoxious cast was still around his hip and upper leg. Bandages covered his healing – but still broken – shoulder and ribs, the few cuts that hadn't healed and the large stab wound on the left side of the countertenor's body.

The dapper young man didn't know what his love had done to deserve this, but he was so grateful for whatever greater being there was that Kurt was finally healing, not only physically but emotionally too.

Tomorrow. The jock would strike tomorrow. His plans were set, and tomorrow would be the day he could finish what he started all those weeks ago.

Sunday morning dawned stormy and rough, both in the weather and the mood in the hospital room. Kurt had had a bad night, being woken several times from viscous nightmares that left him shaking and sobbing in Blaine's arms, hyperventilating until the doctors fed him more oxygen or sedatives through the IV countertenor had reverted back to his previous levels of his fear of men, not even speaking to Burt or the doctor, let alone letting them touch him when they tried to calm him down.

Blaine was exhausted from the night before, and so when the opportunity came for him to shower and shave whilst Kurt was knocked out by the sedatives he leapt at the chance, and used the opportunity to freshen up and look back over the past six weeks.

He didn't regret missing school and spending the past six weeks on the same hospital floor, he never would. He just wished he hadn't had the need to look after his boyfriend in such a way. He loved Kurt, and would do anything for him, and he wished more than anything that they could trade places even just for one day.

The level of devotion that he held for Kurt was only rivalled by that between Kurt and his father; Blaine wasn't hesitant to admit he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with Kurt.

He wanted to marry the young countertenor.

After his epiphany in the bathroom, Blaine made his way back to Kurt's private room. Seeing that Kurt was still unconscious and Burt was sat next to Carole, he motioned for Burt to join him outside.

"Kiddo is everything okay?" Burt rested a hand on the exhausted boy's shoulder.

"I'm fine, thanks. I wanted to say something to you actually." Blaine took a deep breath. "I will forever be grateful to you for what you have done by taking me in. I know my parents don't want me, and the only reason they're still paying for Dalton is my Grandfather's will is forcing them to. I adore Kurt, I know even now that he is the love of my life, and someday I want to marry him. Not now, not until we graduate high school at least, but I guess I am asking for your permission to propose to your son."

Blaine watched the emotions flash across Burt's face; love, guilt, sadness, acceptance and finally a large smile appeared.

"Kid there is no other boy I would want to marry my son; you two are perfect for each other. If these last six weeks haven't showed me that you'll never hurt him I don't know what will. You have my permission to marry Kurt."

Burt pulled Blaine into a big hug, rubbing the shorter boy's back as he broke down.

"T-thank you so much! I'll never hurt him, I swear!"

"I know kid, I know."

Blaine wiped his eyes as a grin lit up his features. "Actually there is one more thing. When my grandfather died I was his only grandson. He always accepted me, and he left me everything. He was a great investor, and I have sat in my bank account several billion dollars; I want to pay for Kurt's hospital bills. I know the insurance covers seventy-five per cent but he's been here for six weeks, and in special conditions and a private room. The costs add up and I want to help, please."

Burt took off his well-worn baseball cap and wiped a hand over his bald head. He sighed resignedly and nodded. "I guess I could talk to Carole but you're right, the bills are expensive. Are you sure about this though?"

The dapper teen nodded once; "Positive.