I'm sorry.

…

2009.

Blaine: 14, Kurt: 15.

They came in flashes.

A cackling laughter that echoed in my ears for hours after. The sound of footsteps getting louder, heavier, closer, faster. The taste of bile in my throat as I tried to swallow and form words. Bile replaced by blood as one of my teeth went through my bottom lip. The sting of tears behind my eyes as I tried not to let them fall. My breath being forced out of my lungs from a blow to my stomach. The sound of shouts nearby but not close enough. No. Stop. You're going to kill him. Pain shooting through every ounce of my body. The crack of ribs. The feeling of my face being grazed as it's pushed into the hard ground.

I woke up in tears, gasping for breath, my body covered in a sheet of sweat. It took me a long time to catch my breath and even longer to stop crying. It had been months and not once had I been able to sleep through the night. I tried to roll over but regretted it instantly as pain shot up my arm. I nursed my arm to my chest as a tear escaped my eyes, only thankful for the fact that at least it was my left arm.

I tried to fall asleep again but the fear that bubbled inside my chest and made me feel nauseous prevented me from doing so. And it was once again a restless night.

"Are you sure you feel up to going, sweetie?" Mum said over breakfast.

"For the thousandth time, yes! I want to get out of here and I want to see Kurt."

"Yeah, I know you do," she smiled as she squeezed my hand.

I'd spoken to Kurt a few times on the phone since it had happened, but mostly we'd just texted and avoided talking about it altogether. I didn't want to talk about it, the feelings too raw and the pain too fresh. Kurt understood that but I could still tell that he was worried. I hadn't told him that I couldn't sleep – I hadn't told anyone, but sometimes Cooper gave me a look that made me think that he heard me cry at night. I could pretend that I was okay during the day, putting on a fake smile, but all of those shields fell when I was alone in my room at night, And I had the horrible feeling that those shields would also fall the moment I saw Kurt. And they did.

I'd had it all planned out; get to the lake, unpack my stuff and wait for Burt and Kurt to make their way over to our house and avoid Kurt as much as possible until that night in the treehouse when it didn't matter so much if I broke down.

What I hadn't planned for was Kurt waiting for me on the front step of our porch. I saw him the moment we turned into the driveway and by the time we pulled up next to the house, Kurt was on his feet. I'd barely stepped out of the car before Kurt had his arms wrapped around me, his face buried in my neck.

"Kurt," I said, my voice breaking as I let out a sob.

"Oh god. B, I was so worried," Kurt whispered in my ear as he clung to me. Pulling back so he could see me, he placed his hands on either side of my face and looked me straight in the eye. "You are alright, aren't you? You're not hurt anymore?"

"My left arm's still giving me a bit of trouble, but I'm okay. I'm okay," I said with a watery smile, moving into hug him again, so thankful that I'm still here to do so.

…

"I've missed it here so much," Kurt sighed, laying down and pulling his blanket up to his chest. "The lake. The treehouse. You."

Copying Kurt and laying on my back as well, I replied quietly, "me too."

"We haven't really spoken much lately, what have you been up to?" Kurt asked.

"Umm," I swallowed. Crying. Not sleeping. Trying to play the violin but getting frustrated and giving up because I can't play as well as I used to. "Not much, really. My life has been pretty boring."

If Kurt knew that I was lying, which I'm 99.8% sure he did, he didn't make it known.

"We got new neighbours," Kurt piped up.

"Oh, that's cool. Are they nice?" I asked, glad for the change of subject.

"The parents are lovely, but their two daughters are a nightmare, oh my god! One of them is my age and the other a few years younger. They don't go to my school though; they go to a private girls school, which is probably why they're both such snobs," Kurt scoffed.

"So not a potential girlfriend then?" I joked, but immediately wished I hadn't as a strange look crossed his face and he hesitated to answer.

"Oh, nooo! I would rather gouge my eyed out!"

"Surely she can't be that bad?" I said in disbelief, having never heard Kurt speak so hatefully about someone before.

"Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. She's not that bad, but she is a pain in the butt," Kurt laughed.

"Mum's thinking of transferring me to another school," I said suddenly.

"Yeah?" Kurt said quietly.

"To this school not that far away from my house. It's a private, all boys school and they have a zero-tolerance for bullies policy, so Mum thinks it would be good for me," I said, knotting my fingers together under my blankets.

Rolling onto his side and resting up on his elbow, Kurt asked, "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know." I really didn't. "I mean, I don't want to leave my school because that would mean leaving Wes and everyone, but the school does sound good and apparently they have an awesome music program."

"That's really great. But promise me something, if you do go..."

"I promise I won't find a new best friend there," I sighed jokingly.

"Well, that, yes. But promise me you won't turn into a private school brat like my neighbours?!"

As that I laughed, "of course. I promise I won't become a brat; I don't even think I could if I tried."

"You're right. You don't have it in you to be a brat," Kurt agreed as he laughed quietly. "You know, I was thinking about trying out for the school musical this year..."

"Really? That'd be awesome!" I said excitedly.

"Yeah! I mean, I don't even know what it is yet but I like singing and I'm okay at dancing and acting and stuff, so why not?"

"You would be great!"

"Oh, I know," Kurt said, pretending to flick his hair over his shoulder before we both broke down into a fit of giggles.

It was a few hours later, once Kurt and I had fallen asleep – Kurt peacefully and me fitfully – that I woke up in a panic, my body covered in sweat and my face in tears as I tried to fight back the images imprinted on my mind. I threw my covers off, running my hands through my hair.

"B?" I heard Kurt mumble before I let out a sob. "Blaine? Oh, Blaine. Shh, come on, it's okay. I'm here. You're okay," he whispered as he moved close to me and wrapped his arms around my middle.

It could have just been my imagination, but as I calmed down and finally found myself drifting back to sleep, I could've sworn I felt tears against my skin where Kurt had his face buried in the back of my neck.

…

"How're you doing, bud?" Burt's voice surprised me as he sat down beside me at the table on their back porch, It was Saturday, meaning we were having lunch at Burt and Kurt's, and Mum was currently teaching Kurt how to makr her infamous fruit salad.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I said with a shrug, looking down at my hands resting on my lap.

"You know you don't have to put on a brave face for me, right? It's okay to not be okay."

"I'm – I'm coping," I said, looking up to meet his eyes.

"You gave us all a pretty big scare."

"I'm sorry," a single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? We're all just so glad you're alright," Burt said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Have you talked to Kurt about it?"

I shook my head and sniffled, "I didn't want to bother him with it all."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You two are best friends, that's what best friends are for. And if you don't want to talk to him about it for your sake, maybe you should for his..."

"What do you mean?"

"When your dad called and told me what had happened, and then I had to tell Kurt – I'd never seen him that bad. I mean, there was when we lost his mum, but I was in a pretty bad way then so I guess I mustn't have noticed it then. But he was seriously worried; I found him crying in his room every night for weeks, and I even once caught him trying to steal my credit card so he could buy himself a ticket to come and see you. I think that maybe if you talked to him about it, then you'd be able to put his heart at ease a little. Show him you are okay." I nodded slowly as I let everything Burt had told me sink in. "And it would do you some good to get everything off your chest as well; it isn't healthy to keep everything bottled up. And if you don't want to talk to Kurt then I'm always happy to listen. Just remember that."

Wiping my eyes, I replied with a smile, "Thank you, Burt. I – I will."

…

Ever since my talk with Burt, I noticed more and more that Kurt was trying not to bring it up. There would be times when we'd be sitting out on the pier or in the treehouse and I'd notice him staring at me with a look of anguish pained upon his face, as though it actually hurt him to hold in whatever it was he wanted to say.

Over the next week and a half, I noticed it constantly. I was starting to think that perhaps I should take Burt's advice and just talk to him. However, one night as we were watching a movie up in my room after dinner, I no longer needed to.

"Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if I hadn't approached you that day in the sandpit?" Kurt said with a general curiosity.

"I haven't really, no. Do you?"

"Of course. I mean, could you imagine it? What would I even do when I came here if I didn't know you? Hang out with Dad all the time?"

"But see, I'd like to think that regardless of whether we'd met then, we still would have met. I mean, let's put the whole we were destined to be best friends thing aside, we're neighbours so we were bound to meet at some point."

"My handwriting would be terrible, that's for sure – I only have nice handwriting from writing to you so often. And I would definitely not be as good at piano as I am now; I may not even be playing at all anymore, I only try so hard to compete with you and your prodigal musical talent...I would probably be in a really bad place. You know, I never really thanked you for what you did when my mum died..."

"I didn't do anything," I said, feeling a blush creep up onto my cheeks.

"But you did," Kurt emphasised, reaching out and grasping my hand in his. I opened my mouth to speak when I noticed tears well up in his eyes but Kurt began speaking again before I could get a word out. "I've thought a lot about what my life would be like without you in it these last couple of months."

"Kurt..."

"I was so scared, I honestly thought I was going to lose you," Kurt was speaking barely above a whisper now.

"It's fine. I'm fine," I reassured him.

"When Dad told me that you were – you were in the hospital, I thought he was kidding, I really did. But who would play a joke as sick as that? And then when I admitted to myself that he was telling the truth – that you were in the hospital, that you were beaten up for being gay, that you were literally on the brink of death – I lost it. I was so close to booking myself a train ticket to come and see you but Dad caught me trying to borrow his credit card. I could barely function after that. I spent the last three months counting down the days until I could see with my own eyes that you were alive. And here you are..." Kurt moved his hand to run his fingers softly over the fresh scar cutting through my left eyebrow.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend," I whispered, trying to stop myself from crying.

"I'm glad you're my best friend too," Kurt smiled. "I should probably get home, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow," I smiled as Kurt gave me a kiss on the forehead before he left my room, trying to keep my breathing steady at the thought of once again having to face sleep.

Once again I woke up with a start. It shouldn't surprise me now; it had been happening for so long. I went about my usual routine of deep breathing but it wasn't working; I couldn't stop my tears nor the terrifying images that kept flashing through my mind.

I needed fresh air. But even after I'd snuck downstairs and out the back – stifling my gasps with my sleeve so as not to wake my parents – it still wouldn't stop. I wanted Kurt. I needed Kurt. But it was two in the morning and Kurt was sleeping. As I climbed the ladder up into the treehouse and curled up in the far corner, I thought about my conversation with Burt and the one I'd had with Kurt only hours earlier.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and typed just a single word: Kurt.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing; in, out, in, out, in, out. I'd hardly even noticed that time had passed when I heard footsteps and opened my eyes to see Kurt appear in the doorway.

"B," he sobbed, and then crossed the small space between us, crouching down next to me as he pulled me into a hug.

…

My poor babies, please don't hate me!

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Em xoxo