Author's note: All I can say about this chapter is that Blaine's a good fiancé :) It picks up where I left off and is more from Blaine's pov. It's an emotional and big chapter for him and I actually like it. I hope you guys enjoy it just as much :) JMarieAllenPoe, you're a beautiful person. Thanks to my awesome readers who are just wonderful people and make me smile with every review/favorite/alert! :D

lovemesomecrazy: Adam seemed nice on the show but I get on Glee Wiki a lot and read that he was a possible love interest for Kurt and, like I said, I only ship Kurt and Blaine. I respect your opinion of him but I don't think I could ever like him. I didn't even like Finn in the beginning because of the relationship he had with Kurt, but after they became brothers I started to tolerate him :)

Luz Estrella: Karofsky's almost done for this story :) I think I'm going to give him one more scene but that's it.

Guest (sorry :/ I don't know your username if you have one): I understand what you're saying about Burt, and I'm trying to make him sound like a good guy but in every story I've ever written the parents come out as bad people. I don't know why, even when I'm trying to make them nice, but it just happens :/ Burt does care about Kurt and Blaine, but he doesn't understand about Karofsky because they won't tell him anything. About Kurt fainting, I have no idea about how the body works (I almost failed my science course on that) so I'm just winging it and if it comes out unrealistically I'm really sorry but it just seemed better to have Kurt ask about Blaine and then faint. I don't ever get the police involved because I want Blaine to rely on himself more because of the independent person he is. I don't think he'd be the type to take his problems to someone else, and he'd just keep it to himself and handle Karofsky on his own. I appreciate your opinions on everything :) Thanks for sticking with my story.

Klaine forever and ever 3: I read your review about a hundred times because it cracked me up so much. You have no idea how much I love getting your reviews. I love Kurt ALMOST as much as Blaine loves Kurt (I don't think anyone could love Kurt more than Blaine) though I won't say if I'll ever kill Kurt or not (that sounded really mean after I wrote it :P) but I think you have a pretty good idea of whether I would or not :P

devilcat82: I feel terrible for making all of my readers wait after that! I wanted to update IMMEDIATELY but then my laptop broke D: Actually, just the screen kept turning green and fuzzy and I THINK the guy said it was a bad LCD wire or something? So now my laptop is being worked on in Kentucky (one state away from me), so for now I'm on my main computer and I can only write on weekends :/ Wow, that was a lot of rambling... But, anyway, I finally have it up! :D

ObsessiveGleeSyndrome: Your reviews always make my day :) I love getting them. Thank you so, so much for your support! Karofsky won't be back for a while, but I can't make any promises about other angst :/

Spoiler alert: NATIONALS UP NEXT. Woot.


Blaine still didn't understand what Finn was yelling. It was so muffled and his left ear was sore from when Karofsky had punched it. Finn was shaking Kurt, screaming something that Blaine couldn't make out. "Finn?" He muttered, his voice low and guttural. "Stop shaking him."

Finn's eyes shot to Blaine's face, his pupils blown out of proportion. "Blaine…" his voice faded again, and Blaine shook his head to clear it. A cold wetness dripped onto the tip of his nose and he wiped it away. He glanced at the smear of red across his palm and lifted his hand to a raw gash on his head.

Wincing, Blaine put his hand down and glimpsed over his shoulder at Karofsky's slumped body, bruises swelling on his pale skin and stripes of blood cut across his face and neck. He turned around and held onto the wall, limping into the living room. He'd never felt this tired, like he could collapse at any moment.

"Kurt," he whispered to himself, lifting his head to where Finn stood with Kurt in his arms at the top of the stairs. Finn was still shaking him, saying something to him, holding him tightly. "Kurt."

Finn suddenly yelled, and this time Blaine made out, "—don't you dare—!"

Blaine staggered onto the stairs and half-dragged himself up five of them, black spots blurring his vision with every hard step he took on his right foot. Damn, was he sore. He tried to focus on Finn, but felt himself growing weaker, fainter… He thought he might pass out. I'm not breathing, he told himself, I have no heartbeat.

Damn, was he cold.

His head throbbed and he stumbled, but he quickly caught himself on the railing. He peeled his lashes apart and looked to where someone was murmuring, and his jaw clenched as his eyes finally zeroed in on the beautiful boy curled against Finn's chest. "Kurt," he mumbled again, pulling himself up a few more steps despite the stabbing pain shooting up his leg. "Kurt."

"Blaine," cut through his stupor like a knife, "he's not breathing! There's no heartbeat!"

Blaine gritted his teeth and hobbled up another stair, never tearing his eyes from Kurt, who was absolutely limp. "Kurt," he said, flicking his gaze to Finn's scrunched face. Finn was desperately whispering to Kurt, frantically pleading with him, words like please and come on. "I'm breathing," Blaine realized that it'd been Finn talking about Kurt, and that startled him. "I have a heartbeat."

His eyes snapped back to Kurt, who was still motionless, cheeks pale and lips white, the only streak of color on his creamy body the gorgeous, brown hair on his head. "Kurt…" he focused on Finn, his wild eyes and his parted lips as he nearly screamed at Kurt, and although he was cut and bruised and battered, nothing felt worse than that punch to his heart. "You're lying!" The words ripped out of Blaine's throat, an instant denial to what Finn was convinced of, "Give him to me! Kurt!"

Ignoring the piercing pain with every little twitch he made, Blaine tore up the remainder of the stairs and smacked his body into Finn's. Finn yelped but didn't try to shove Blaine off when Blaine took Kurt from his arms. The light weight on his chest felt so right there, and Kurt was so soft, but so cold, and Blaine wanted to warm him.

His legs wobbled as his muscles stretched, and he fought to hold Kurt up, but he was so dizzy and felt himself swaying. He fell onto his butt to avoid dropping Kurt, and wrapped him tightly in his arms. "Kurt!"

Kurt went limp against his chest, not a single finger twitching. Finn knelt beside him and stared at him, brown eyes wide with worry. "Blaine, there's no pulse—"

Blaine growled at him and gathered Kurt closer, his fingers tracing the blood soaking the front of his shirt. "Get me something wet." He demanded, brushing a hair off Kurt's forehead.

Finn didn't move, "Blaine, he's—"

Blaine didn't want to hear it and barked, "Now!"

Recoiling at the aggravation in Blaine's tone, Finn jumped to his feet and glanced down at the kitchen, but hesitated when he saw Karofsky's body lying on the floor. "Bathroom." Blaine nodded toward the end of the hallway. "A warm towel." His eyes suddenly flashed to Finn, and Finn was startled by the helplessness he saw in them. "Please… Finn, help me."

He'd never seen Blaine so needy or ask for help from anyone. "Fine," Finn nodded, rushing down the hallway and disappearing into the bathroom.

Blaine reached for the bottom of his shirt and easily tore it, his buttons flying in all directions. Shrugging it off and hissing when he rolled his sliced shoulder, Blaine draped it over Kurt's thighs and pulled at his ruined shirt. He gently and so carefully peeled it off his bloody skin, but Kurt still didn't make a sound even when he tugged it over his head. Bunching the offensive article up, Blaine threw it aside and stared at a nearly naked Kurt. It was obvious that something had been scratched into his stomach, but the blood was so smeared that it was impossible to read.

Blood streaked Kurt's panties, also, but he heard Finn returning and avoided taking those off yet. Finn immediately turned his head at the brief view he got of a pale shoulder, and he felt his way over to Blaine and handed him the towel. "What do you need me to do?" Finn murmured, still turned away.

Blaine was busy patting Kurt's stomach and barely realized Finn had spoken, "Go check on Karofsky. Make sure he doesn't get up. I left my knife down there."

"I'm not going to stab him!" Finn shrieked, "That's insane, Blaine!"

Blaine shot Finn a bitter glare, "He will kill you if you don't. Now go."

Finn shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, but darted down the stairs, anyway. Left alone with Kurt, Blaine dabbed the blood until Kurt's stomach was pink and only smudges of blood painted the canvas. Running his finger over a thin line sliced through Kurt's skin, Blaine stroked the scratchy letters that spelled out Karofsky's first name. An animalistic snarl rumbled from deep in his throat.

"I've claimed him," Blaine gritted his teeth, sliding a finger under the waistband of Kurt's spankies. He slipped them down his legs and flicked them away, then bundled Kurt in his ripped shirt. Putting extra pressure on Kurt's stomach so he didn't lose any more blood, Blaine slid his hands up to Kurt's chest. He curled his knuckles against Kurt's heart, alarmed when he felt absolutely nothing.

"Kurt." Blaine rubbed Kurt's bottom lip and watched splotches of pink dust the paleness of his mouth wherever he touched, but as soon as he pulled his hand away Kurt's lips drained of color again. "Kurt… it's me."

Kurt's lashes didn't even flutter, and Blaine's jaw hardened with dread. "Kurt…" he swallowed, bending over Kurt and laying his cheek against his heart. Not one beat. "Kurt."

Anxiously, Blaine pinched Kurt's nose and moved his lips over his. He shuddered at the sweet taste of Kurt, opening his mouth and forcing Kurt's open with his. Blowing on Kurt's tongue, Blaine pressed on Kurt's chest. He lifted his head and began shaking as Kurt didn't sigh, didn't wriggle, didn't do anything. "Open your eyes," Blaine commanded, his voice trembling. "Kurt… please… if you love me, you'll take my hand. Squeeze my hand. Kurt… Kurt… I need you… Squeeze my hand. Please. Kurt, just… open your eyes a little and I'll buy you anything, give you anything. If you want a thousand shoes, they're yours."

When Kurt didn't wrinkle his nose or furrow his brows as he considered the offer, Blaine's eyes filled with tears and he slid his fingers through Kurt's. "Squeeze my hand," he begged. "Kurt… squeeze my hand. Please. I'm holding yours."

Blaine didn't know how long he stared at Kurt, waiting to feel the slightest of trembles, waiting to see those pretty blue eyes open, but they didn't. And they never would.

Tears rolled over Blaine's cheeks and he collapsed to the floor, his head falling against Kurt's cool stomach that wasn't moving up and down with every sip of breath. "Squeeze my hand…"

Kurt's fingers were lifeless and cold.


Blaine jabbed a finger into the water and checked that it was the perfect temperature, then rolled his sleeves up. He pulled Kurt higher up on his chest and lifted his body, laying him in the heated pool of water. Kurt's head lolled and he slid, so Blaine wrapped an arm around him to hold him upright. "I'm going to wash you," he told Kurt as if he could hear him. "I'm sorry if your cuts will sting. I'll be so gentle with you."

Outside of the bathroom, he heard footsteps and low muttering, one voice clearly Finn's, "Hey, thanks for coming over, buddy."

"I ditched my job as soon as I got your text," someone who sounded like Puck explained. "Is he okay?"

Finn's voice hesitated, "We don't know. We took him to the doctor the other day… Blaine had trouble letting others touch him, but… they thought it might be a severe coma from blood loss." Finn's words died and Puck was obviously speechless, so Finn quickly switched the subject, "Come on downstairs. Blaine will be out in a bit."

Blaine listened to them walk away and looked at Kurt. He dipped the washcloth into the water and soaked a cut near a purplish bruise on Kurt's hip. "I'll wash him off of you," Blaine rambled to Kurt again. "Your cuts will heal and you won't smell like him anymore and he won't be on you, Kurt."

Rubbing the soap between his hands to warm it up, Blaine smoothed it over Kurt's soft skin and watched a trail of bubbles follow the cake. They popped and Blaine washed them away, leaving Kurt's skin shiny and pink.

Once Blaine finished washing him, he pressed his lips to Kurt's forehead and breathed in the raspberry shampoo. It was nearly drugging. "I'm going to lift you," he whispered to Kurt, bundling the slippery boy in his arms. He hobbled to his feet and held a dripping Kurt to his chest, then reached for a towel and covered him. He carried Kurt out of the bathroom and across the hall, laying him on their bed. He dried Kurt from his toes to his hair, then turned away to find him clothes.

He went to his dresser and opened his drawer for his old tee shirts, pulling one out from when he was probably fourteen or fifteen. Returning to Kurt, Blaine slipped his tiny body into it then flopped beside of his legs. He writhed to be closer to Kurt, his eyes on his small face. Beautiful but hurt, Kurt looked so much more delicate than usual, so vulnerable and unprotected. Blaine would never let him out of his sight again.

Scooting until half of his body was on top of Kurt, Blaine put his nose centimeters from Kurt's, "So, Annie, are you okay?" He nuzzled Kurt's ear, "Are you okay, Annie?"

"You've been hit by," hummed another voice from his doorway, "you've been struck by…"

Blaine glanced up and whispered, "A smooth criminal."

Santana stopped the song there and blinked at him, "You look exhausted." When Blaine didn't answer to that, she stepped out of the doorway and looked down at her feet, which were being circled by two little birds, the yellow one stumbling with a wrapped wing. "How have you been?"

"Scared," was the first and only thing Blaine said.

Santana shrugged, "Me, too." Pausing, she nodded toward the doorway, "Everyone's downstairs. Lots of people brought flowers. You should probably go talk to them."

Blaine ignored her suggestion and smoothed Kurt's hair, "I don't know how you ever leave Brittany."

She didn't answer that and went to sit down in the windowsill, "I'm sorry this happened, Blaine."

"I'll never let it happen again," Blaine assured her, patting the bed when he noticed his tiny birds wiggling and peeking at the two forms on the mattress. Everett climbed the bed sheets to get up, but Blaine had to bend over the side of the bed to scoop Pavarotti into his palm. "Maybe it was carelessness… Karofsky hadn't attacked in a while so I… was stupid and thought he'd given up. And I left him alone."

"Don't blame yourself," Santana argued. "And he wasn't alone. He had his dad and Finn's mom."

"They didn't hear anything," Blaine shrugged that off. "The TV was too loud. San, this is my fault. Everything is. I'm the one who went with him in the first place… I lost everything four years ago, and now I almost lost Kurt."

"Blaine, you didn't know." She sighed, "No one would have. He had all of us convinced." Crossing her arms, Santana let the conversation fade into silence as Blaine buried his face in Kurt's hair and stroked his birds to comfort them as they worried over Kurt.

Suddenly, a knock on the door frame interrupted them, and Blaine immediately stiffened and put an arm over Kurt, but then he saw Finn and relaxed. Finn tried to smile, "Hey, dude. A few of the… uh… guys want to come in. Care for some company?"

Blaine collected Kurt against his chest and covered him with a blanket, "Okay."

Finn made a gesture outside the door and feet tromped up the stairs, and soon enough a few noses poked in. "Hey, Blaine," Puck was the first inside, "how is he?"

Blaine didn't answer because a few of the other glee guys walked in, followed by Blaine's brother, and Finn came to sit at the end of the bed. Cooper pushed his way through the other guys and rubbed Blaine's shoulder, "How are you feeling, bud?"

Puck lowered beside of Finn and swatted Blaine's foot, "Dude, we just want to tell you that if you ever need us for anything, come talk to us. We're brothers and we always have each other's backs."

Blaine stared at the guys around him, two of them who used to be his greatest friends, and the rest of them easily forgetting the asshole he'd once been. He realized that Kurt had been right all along. "Can I tell you guys something?"

Each of them smiled at him, giving him permission to say anything he had to. Taking a breath, Blaine closed his eyes, "I-I'm… gay."

No one said a word and he opened his eyes, startled when they didn't appear shocked in the least. Puck laughed at Blaine's expression, "We know, dude."

Blaine didn't know what to say to that, so Coop crawled past Puck and winked at the guys, "Can I have a minute with Blaine? Some privacy?"

Finn quietly rounded the guys up and took Santana's wrist, leading the group outside. He shut the door behind himself with one lasting glance at Blaine and Coop. Once they were by themselves, Coop threw himself beside of Blaine and looped an arm around his neck, "Is this what you wanted to tell me… about Karofsky?"

Blaine nodded, "There's more."

"Talk to me," Coop encouraged. "You're my baby brother. I'll give you all the time in the world." Blaine hesitated and swallowed, but his mouth was too dry, so Coop sighed and rubbed his shoulder, "Kurt's gonna be fine and you're going to be so happy with him, Blaine." He leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of Blaine's eye, "I love you. Whenever you're ready, you can talk to me."

"I want to tell you now," Blaine blurted, and his brother arched a brow at him. "His real name is Eli Carofsky and…"


Blaine crawled under the blankets and curled himself around Kurt's tiny body, bundling him against his chest. Stroking Kurt's hair and face, Blaine bent to touch his mouth to Kurt's, "I love you." He gazed at Kurt's small face, a beautiful face, and rubbed his thumb across his plump mouth.

"So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?" Blaine hummed, his voice quiet, "As he came into the window, it was the sound of a crescendo." Hugging Kurt tighter, Blaine glanced over his shoulder at the busted window, covered by a thin tarp to keep the wind out. "He came into her apartment, he left the bloodstains on the carpet. She ran underneath the table, he could see she was unable."

He paused to catch his breath, closing his eyes and blocking the images stuck in his head of Kurt squealing and writhing to escape Karofsky's murderous hands. "So she ran into the bedroom, she was struck down. It was her doom." His eyes swelled and he rubbed them with his knuckles, small pools of tears dripping onto his hands. "Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?"

Looking at the boy cuddled in his arms, Blaine sniffled and whispered to him, "Kurt, are you okay?"

He nuzzled into Kurt and laid his lashes on his cheeks, wrapping his leg around Kurt's waist. "Squeeze my hand…" Feeling fluttering on his jaw, Blaine murmured and pressed his face into Kurt's. Then the gentlest of touches caressed his ear, rubbing his stubbly jaw. The warm hand traced his neck, tickled his collarbone, and then stroked his biceps and forearms. Fingers curled around his wrist, sliding to his palm and lightly squeezing his muscular hand.

"I'm okay, Blaine," a pretty voice cooed in his ear, and his eyes snapped open with alarm.

Kurt's lashes quivered, the corners of his eyes crinkling as a gorgeous smile curved his lips. Blaine couldn't speak, his mouth open and pupils blown out of proportion. "Hold me tighter," the lovely sound startled Blaine even more, and he held Kurt to his chest. Kurt stroked Blaine's face and snuggled into him, his cheek pressed to the hollow of Blaine's neck.

Lifting his hand from Blaine's cheek, Kurt gasped and widened his eyes. Blaine slid his fingers through Kurt's and kissed his fingertips, "What is it?"

Kurt parted his lips and flicked his eyes over Blaine's shoulder, "My ring. My engagement ring. He took it off of me and threw it."

Blaine glanced around the room and spotted a tiny, glittering object by the desk, so he peeled himself off of Kurt and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I'll get it." Throwing his legs off the bed, Blaine walked over to the ring and picked it up, relieved that none of the diamonds had been chipped or fallen out.

He returned to Kurt and slid under the sheets, taking Kurt's hand and slipping the ring back onto his finger. Kurt whimpered with pleasure and cuddled into Blaine, "How are Pavarotti and Everett? Where are my little birds?"

"Asleep," Blaine smoothed Kurt's hair and urged him to relax. "They're fine."

Kurt was quiet for a few moments as Blaine played in his hair, enjoying holding his fiancé in his arms and having him hold him just as tight. But then those seconds ended and Kurt was troubled again, "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead. "I'm alright, baby. How do you feel? Sore? Do you ache anywhere? I'll rub your feet and massage your shoulders."

When Blaine moved to scoot to the end of the bed, Kurt clung to him, "No… stay with me. I want you to hold me." Rubbing Blaine's chest and shoulders, Kurt tilted his head to kiss a dark nipple. Blaine shuddered and groaned. "I should feel pain after what he did to me, but I don't. Not with you… not when I'm wrapped in your arms."

"I never stopped taking care of you," Blaine muttered, and Kurt's blue eyes lifted to his face. "I bathed you and put salve on you and bandaged you and… whatever damage he did to you is gone now, Kurt. I'll never let him have his way with you again."

Kurt's bottom lip trembled, "Thank you." He cupped Blaine's face and brought it close to his so he could kiss him, "You're so brave, Blaine, and so kind. You came for me even though you knew I was with such a mean man, and then you cared for me. You deserve a thousand kisses."

"I think I'll get quite a few more than that," Blaine chuckled, tilting his head and nipping Kurt's bottom lip. "Maybe a million?"

Kurt giggled and blushed as Blaine teased with him, "Two million and that's all, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine rolled on top of him and bumped their noses, rubbing his against Kurt's, "Not even close, my little sweetheart." He pressed their lips and made his words very true by morning.