Author's Note: Hey there! So sorry! This took WAY too long to update… I've been working on a few new stories, plus I had really awful writer's block. Bad combination. But, I finally figured out what to do with this chapter, and I'm back at last. :) It's short, but at least it's something and it helped me get out of my block. So, enjoy this next part!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the show Glee.

~Chapter 21: Sticks and Stones~

Blaine awoke feeling groggy and a little disoriented. It took him a minute to recall the reasons behind the dull ache in his jaw, the unfamiliar room surrounding him. He blinked, staring around and hoping that maybe, somehow, it had all just been a terrible dream.

His eyes landed on Kurt. He sat in front of the window, looking out into the early-morning sunlight with a distant expression on his face. His cell phone rested silently in his hand like a dead weight.

"Are you alright?"

Kurt startled, turning to look at Blaine with wide eyes. In the next second, he blinked, and his eyes seemed tired, weary. Blaine didn't know what to make of it. "I… I checked my voicemail," Kurt answered, biting his lip. "One of them… I didn't recognize the number, b-but…"

The tone of his voice was enough to scare Blaine into full consciousness. He got up, moving to stand in front of Kurt. "What's going on?"

Kurt stared out the window, his eyes swimming with tears. "It was your dad. I d-don't know how he got my number. I'm scared, Blaine."

Blaine felt his blood boil as all the fears that had taken over his body the previous night slipped away. How could he allow himself to be so helpless and afraid when Kurt needed him? Suddenly, Blaine didn't want to hide anymore. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to yell and scream and punch and kick. He wanted his father to feel all the pain he had ever inflicted on anybody else.

"Can I listen to it?" Blaine said, battling to keep his voice steady as he glanced down at Kurt's phone.

Kurt was silent for a long moment, and his voice shook when he answered. "N-no… I erased the message," he replied.

Blaine let out a frustrated sigh. Damn. He had wanted to hear the message for himself so that his anger could be justified, so that Kurt wouldn't be the only one with the weight on his shoulders. But now the tangible aspect of it was gone, and there was no proof that it had even existed in the first place. "Why would you do that?" he shot back. "We could have shown it to the police."

Kurt's shoulders slumped, making him appear much smaller and suddenly vulnerable. He looked so young, so shaken and uncertain.

This was his boyfriend. This was Kurt, who had been strong for Blaine whenever he needed him, and now Kurt was scared and hurt and just needed to be held close. He needed Blaine to be here with him, getting him through the moment and telling him everything would get better soon.

Blaine's expression softened instantly. This wasn't Kurt's fault, after all, and what he needed now was support, not anger. Cautiously, he reached out and rested a reassuring hand on Kurt's arm. Kurt reached up and knotted their fingers together securely. "I freaked out," he admitted finally. "I realized it was s-stupid to delete a message like that as soon as I'd done it. I guess I didn't really think it through. It's just that h-he s-said all these terrible things a-and I just…"

Blaine gave in and pulled Kurt into a tight hug before he could finish his sentence. There was absolutely no reason why anyone should have to wake up to a call like that. Especially not Kurt. "I understand. It's alright... it's gonna be alright. We're gonna be okay," he soothed, rubbing gentle circles into Kurt's back with his hand.

Kurt moved to meet Blaine's eyes. "W-what should we do?" he asked, wiping his sleeve across his cheeks to catch the tears that had escaped.

"I don't know," Blaine sighed. He reached out to swipe the pad of his thumb over a tiny droplet that glimmered just below Kurt's eyelashes. "But I think we have to go back soon."

"Not yet." Kurt buried his face in Blaine's neck. Blaine felt his body shaking against his own. "I don't want to go back yet."

"Kurt…"

"I'm scared, Blaine. I'm scared that he knows where I live. He must know who I am and how to find me; he called my cell phone." Kurt paused, and Blaine heard the way his breath shuddered, heard the desperate plea in his voice. "I don't want to face this yet, Blaine. Please."

That was the part that Blaine couldn't stand. Why should Kurt have to deal with something like this in the first place? He hated being the one to have brought so many complications into Kurt's world. He wondered how things would have been different had he never spoken to Kurt that day at Dalton. It was strange how just a few weeks of togetherness could change everything.

"Okay," Blaine said at last, a plan steadily falling into place in his mind. He could sense the adjustment within himself, the sudden calm in his voice. He could do this. He could pull himself together, if only for one more day. If only for Kurt's sake. "Call the others, make sure they're safe. Find out where they're staying. We'll go back to your house so you can get whatever you need, and then meet up with everyone else. We'll all be safe and together… and the police will have a chance to work on finding my dad while we're away. How does that sound?"

Kurt chewed his lip, visibly picking the idea apart in his mind. "Will we be alright if we stop at my house, do you think?" he wondered.

Blaine nodded. "We'll be in and out pretty quickly. It'll give you a chance to get some of your things together, and then we'll be out of there."

"What about you?"

"We can go to Tina's after."

Kurt's eyes met Blaine's, and he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said. His voice was suddenly determined, steadied. Just what Blaine had hoped for. "Let's do it."

x.x.x

The house was dead silent.

Kurt tried to ignore the chills that shivered down his spine every time he rounded a corner or a floorboard creaked. He was terrified that something would jump out at him, that maybe Mr. Anderson had broken in somehow and they just hadn't realized it yet. Keeping close to Blaine, Kurt made his way up to his bedroom, their single goal echoing in his mind like a mantra.

Go to the house. Get out quickly. Go to Tina's. Go to meet the others.

He had talked to Finn that morning on the phone. Naturally, no one had been happy to hear that Kurt had intentionally ignored their frantic calls, but the assurance that he and Blaine were alright had pacified them, at least for now. Finn had given Kurt the address of Tina's aunt's house where they were staying and directions for how to get there. Carole had told them to be safe, to arrive as soon as possible, and to remember that everything would be back to normal soon.

Kurt wished he could recall what normal felt like.

"Kurt."

Blaine stood in the doorway to Kurt's room, staring at something inside with wide eyes. Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat, a feeling like dizziness erupting in his head. There were a million things that could be beyond that door, most of which Kurt was certain he would not want to see. He swallowed hard.

"Look," Blaine said softly, stepping out of the way so that Kurt could peer inside. He hesitated for a long moment, and then moved to take Blaine's place in the doorway.

His room was no different than he had left it. Books on the shelves, clothes tucked in the closet, schoolwork piled neatly across the desk. No sound rang out, save the softly ticking clock that echoed from down the hall. Everything was peaceful, normal.

Except for the softball-sized rock that rested on the floor of Kurt's bedroom, surrounded by shards of glass. Eyes trailing slowly up to the window, Kurt caught sight of the damage, a jagged hole right through the center.

He didn't think just anyone would have done this.

Blaine let out a long breath beside him. Words seemed unnecessary in that moment for whatever reason, so Kurt said nothing, instead simply staring at the rock, at the broken glass. At what was undoubtedly a threat from Richard Anderson.

"Come on," Blaine murmured finally, walking into the room and opening the door to Kurt's closet. "Let's just do what we came here for and get out."

Kurt nodded numbly and walked forward to stand beside Blaine, who took his hand with a comforting squeeze. Kurt loved the way their fingers fit together.

He reached into the closet with his free hand, fingers just barely brushing the fabric of the gray jacket he had worn the day he first volunteered at Dalton Reform. The day he had met Blaine.

The day things had changed.

Out of nowhere, a sound from downstairs reverberated through the house, roaring in Kurt's ears and leaving him frozen in place, stunned. It was the sound of a crash, and then the sound of distant footsteps.

It was also the realization that they were not at all alone.