After Kurt had awoken the previous day he, his father, Carole, and Blaine had all had a discussion about Blaine moving to Ohio. Carole had been ecstatic that Blaine was moving back to help out and had almost immediately set off to go home and clean out the guest room, which she made sure to add was right next to Kurt's room. Burt didn't look very thrilled after hearing this, but said nothing. Regardless of any awkwardness, Burt had stayed the entire night with the boys. The three of them stayed up late into the night watching The Sound of Music ("That one again?"), Rent ("Do we have to?"), The Wizard of Oz ("You've got every word memorized. What's the point?"), and they finished off with watching several episodes of Teen Mom ("You have got to be kidding me, Kurt. There is a football game on the next channel and you're going to make me watch re-runs of this?").

Blaine fell asleep half way through the second episode of Teen Mom, after muttering, "Wake me up if he decides to put it on the Buckeyes game." Burt's attention went in and out of watching the show, but he mostly thought about his earlier discussion with Blaine. He liked the kid. He really liked the kid. The way he literally dropped everything to rush to Kurt's side showed how much he cared for his son. "He's a good kid."

Kurt looked up from Teen Mom, wincing slightly at the quick movement. "Huh?"

Burt gestured at Blaine who was curled up in a small chair, legs tucked underneath him and head lolling on his shoulder. He took deep even breaths as he slept on, one arm relaxed over his waist and the other on the arm rest. "Blaine… He's a real good kid, Kurt."

"I know." Kurt's eyes met his fathers and he leaned back into his pillows. "He's got a big heart, Dad. He's like my super hero. Only his wardrobe is considerably better than any comic book hero I've ever seen." He turned to look at Blaine, smiling a bit. He really did have the most adorable boyfriend in the world.

"Super hero, huh, kiddo?" Burt laughed a bit. He didn't know how to tell Kurt what he wanted to say. That he was so glad Kurt had finally found someone like this. More than being uncomfortable with the fact that Kurt was gay, there had always been a part of Burt that worried his son would never find someone. That he would have to go through life without love. Blaine had cared for Kurt even before they dated though. Why else would he have tracked Burt down, blatantly overstepping his boundaries, and told him that Kurt needed "the talk?" Burt had a hunch that Blaine had loved his son even then; Blaine just hadn't known it yet. Burt got that, too. Love wasn't always at first sight and the fact that they were friends first, Burt hoped, would mean that they would last longer and have a healthier relationship. That was one thing that Burt regretted after marrying Kurt's mother. He loved Kurt's mom more than anything but they hadn't been friends before they had dated. That kind of friendship that merged into a relationship would have made a lot of awkwardness at first disappear.

There seemed to be no awkwardness or unsureness between Kurt and Blaine. That much was very obvious. There was maybe some awkwardness on Burt's part whenever Blaine pulled up outside the house on a Saturday morning and Kurt ran out, threw his arms around him, cried out happily, and the two kissed. Burt would avert his eyes very quickly when Blaine came into the house holding hands with his son and mutter a quick, "Hello." Blaine was always very courteous around Kurt's family and always had the silly smile on his face as Kurt could crack jokes about "gay stuff" that Burt would never fully understand.

The differences in the boys amazed him, as well. Kurt hated sports. Blaine loved college football, especially the Buckeyes¸ and he had played soccer at Dalton for three years. He had apparently been scouted by UCLA, UC Santa Barbara, and Duke but Blaine had turned their scholarship offers down to "stay closer to home." Burt had a feeling Kurt had been a bigger decision breaker than Blaine would probably ever admit. Kurt spent his down time reading Vogue Magazine and shopping. Blaine read a lot of books and ran laps. Kurt watched movies, Blaine shot hoops. Kurt hated junk food and Blaine had, on more than one occasion, downed more than one bag of Cool Ranch Doritos with Finn while the two watched TV. Usually the shows that warranted Doritos eating did not interest Kurt, so he would make a little "hmph" noise and curl up at Blaine's side, opening the latest issue of Vogue that he'd already read three times and making comments like, "Look at how cute he is. And he's got straight hair." This would result in one of three things: Blaine either tickling his side, playfully hitting him upside the head, or very cheerfully stating that he would go to a salon the next day and have his hair relaxed. That last one always shut Kurt up really fast.

They weren't entirely opposites though. Carole often joked how, when Blaine would arrive from Kentucky early in the morning, he would always be dressed similarly to Kurt. Their clothes often matched. Or how, the longer they were together, their laughs began to sound the same. Both boys had similar tastes in cars. Obviously they both loved singing and performing. Both boys would look at each other when the other was looking away, a little smile on their faces.

It was very strange for Burt to witness these stolen glances between Blaine and Kurt. Kurt's eyes would light up with excitement, the same type of excitement he got when he first saw The Nutcracker when he was little. His entire demeanor changed when his boyfriend was around. He was more comfortable with himself, he was happy. Burt knew that for a long time Kurt had not had friends, and he knew that Kurt got picked on a lot at McKinley before he'd transferred to Dalton. After being in Dalton, Kurt carried himself a little taller. It wasn't so much that Kurt had actually changed. He was just more confident in himself. Burt was damn sure Blaine had a lot to do with that, also. Kurt was a little louder around Blaine and he was a lot happier. His smiles never appeared forced. When Blaine would look at Kurt, it was evident he was in love. His eyes would linger over Kurt's light and always styled hair, his blue eyes, his nose. You could see the need to protect Kurt. Whenever Kurt was upset, he'd reach over and just hold his hand. Something as simple as hand holding, but it really meant something to Kurt. Burt had seen Kurt almost trip on Finn's shoes more than once (it was a common occurrence) and Blaine reach out to grab him before he fell, or dart his arm out in front of the boy before he could fall and laugh that he was "so clumsy."

Hell, Burt didn't know whether to be upset or happy for his son. Life was going to be so much harder for Kurt simply because he was gay. He wanted his son to lead a normal life, but who was he kidding? Kurt, who had asked for a pair of "sensible heels" for his birthday as a toddler, had never been normal. He'd been compassionate, kind hearted, sweet, understanding, shy. But he had never been normal. Here was someone that embraced Kurt for the young man he was. A young gay man, but still every bit a man as Burt was. Maybe even more so because Kurt accepted himself and had the courage to be himself. If Burt had been gay, he would not be as confident and sure of himself as his son was. Blaine loved his son and it was painfully obvious when the younger man's face had crumbled and he'd stumbled into that hospital room, took a seat by the bed, and so carefully picked up Kurt's hand. How he'd driven up at two in the morning, made it to the hospital at four, and had stayed with Kurt almost every waking minute since then.

Their love scared Burt. He didn't like to think that this time next year Kurt may be living alone with Blaine. Kurt was eighteen, though. He was a young adult, albeit a sometimes immature one. He made good decisions for the most part and, despite the fact that he was a bit of a drama queen, he never acted reckless. Burt was glad he'd found someone but he couldn't help but feel like Kurt would go off to college and never return. His son had big dreams and Burt knew he had the brains to achieve each and every one of them. Maybe it wouldn't have felt as bad if Kurt went on his own, had to stumble around a few times before he made it. At least Burt wouldn't have felt as if his role was being replaced.

It was silly, wasn't it? When Kurt was twelve and getting picked on in middle school, Kurt never told his father. But Burt knew. How could he not know? Kurt would cry in his room as he watched The Sound of Music. He would fall asleep listening to sad soundtracks. Kurt wasn't tall and he had this way about him… Burt didn't want to say he looked gay because Kurt had always said that comment was "beyond prejudiced and immoral, Dad" but there was no other way to put it. Burt had known Kurt would begin to have trouble in school when the other boys started getting tall, getting muscles, and Kurt continued to watch musicals and sing loudly with the radio. Kurt generally preferred to sing female parts, as well. Kurt maintained his sweet face with big blue eyes. His hands remained small and almost feminine. Most boys would take five minutes to pick out one pair of jeans and buy five pairs, and five t-shirts for school. Kurt would spend hours going to each store and perfectly putting together outfits.

But when Kurt was getting picked on, he would cry. He had no friends, no one to talk to. Burt knew that he should have confronted Kurt about his sexuality, but how did you do that? And what if, by some chance, he had been wrong? How did you go up to your son, who you held as a baby and imagined getting married to a woman in 25 years, and ask if he was attracted to men? If his mother had been here… she'd have handled it. Kurt would have told her. Burt was not good with this stuff. So he tried to not hear Kurt's sniffles late at night and he tried to ignore the horrible forced smiles he would wear when he got off the bus. He let Kurt help out around the garage on the weekends so he didn't feel so lonely. He went with Kurt to the shows and the musicals, wanting to make his son happy. Kurt enjoyed the shows and musicals, but… but it was never quite enough because Kurt would still come home upset and lock himself in his room for hours playing that same old song over and over. It hurt Burt and he felt powerless. He felt like there was nothing he could do to help his child, and it tore him up inside.

Burt didn't know what to do, how to help. He knew his sister was gay but he hadn't treated her well. He'd been exactly how Finn had been to Kurt that one night he and Carole had almost broken up, calling her a dyke every chance he got. Telling their parents she had a girlfriend. Making terrible jokes with his football friends. Letting people bully her in school and treat her like crap. Kind of liking that they did it, because what she was "doing" was wrong. How could he then go to her, several years later, and ask for help? Say that Kurt was… Kurt was like her. And he was so sorry that he'd treated his sister that way. That he didn't know anything back then, but now… now he knew it all. He knew how dumb he'd been because he looked at his son and suddenly it didn't matter what he was "doing." He wasn't "doing" anything and it most certainly wasn't wrong because this was his only child, his baby. And his son had made him realize how stupid and prejudiced he'd been all those years. No, he didn't have the guts to do that because he hated to think that he had been that person. These kids were doing to his son what he'd done to his own older sister.

When Kurt was three and started acting… well, girly… Burt had not handled it very well. When Kurt turned five he signed Kurt up for football, baseball, and soccer teams. Wrestling. Karate. Kurt would always cry on the way to each one but Burt would tell him, "This one. I know you'll like this one, Kurt." Because there had to be something for boys that Kurt liked. His son just hadn't found it yet and once he found the sport he liked, everything would fall into place and Burt would be able to prove that his son wasn't… "that way." Burt never told Elizabeth, Kurt's mother, where he always took Kurt and he told Kurt that it was "their secret." When Elizabeth finally found out, she had been furious. Elizabeth had always been the better parent. She would sing and dance with Kurt, bake with him, take him to piano lessons. She played dress up with him and even let Kurt toddle around in her heels. That had made Burt furious. "You're trying to turn our son gay!" he had accused.

"Kurt enjoys singing and dancing, Burt. He likes to play dress up."

"He should dress up in his father's shoes, not his mother's."

"I'm sorry to inform you," She had harshly whispered, "that your son doesn't want to dress up in his father's shoes and right now I can't say I blame him. You've been dragging him to stuff he hates for months, Burt! You knew it was wrong and that's why you didn't tell me! You act like this now, what's going to happen when he's 13 and wants to come out? He'll be too afraid that you'll not accept him… will he be right?"

"Kurt's not gay! He's only five!" It was hard to control his voice. He'd never before said it out loud, he had just thought it to himself when he was alone.

"You're not taking Kurt back to that karate class, Burt. You have got to start accepting him in your heart now or you'll never be able to accept him in ten years when he needs it the most."

How had Elizabeth been so smart this whole time? How had she been able to soothe Kurt's tears just by rocking him and singing that sad song that Kurt liked to play on repeat? How had she always known the right thing to say, when Burt didn't know where to begin? This must have been why his sister adored Elizabeth so much. They often talked on the phone, at least once a week if not more. Kurt would follow her around as she cleaned and talked on the phone, holding onto her leg and adding in insightful random comments whenever he felt he could.

And how, the real question was, did Kurt ever manage to find someone that eased his pain the way his mother had? He had found, in Blaine, someone to dance and sing with. Someone to bake with. Someone to cry to when he was upset, someone who knew exactly what to say to cheer Kurt up. Blaine knew how to play piano and would occasionally play a few notes of a familiar song, making a big smile appear on Kurt's face. Sometimes Kurt would begin to sing the words, or sometimes he would just sit on the bench next to him, lay his head on his shoulder, and watch his hands as he played. If Kurt stormed into the house after school upset and slammed his bedroom door shut, you could expect one minute later a sniffle or sob or groan of frustration, and five minutes later cheerful chattering or even laughing coming from behind the door. That always meant he was on the phone with Blaine. How did Blaine do it? Something that Burt struggled for years to do and had never really succeeded, and Blaine just waltzed into the picture and was able to… do it. How did someone who had only known Kurt for a little over a year understand his son more than Burt had when Burt had been living with him his entire life? It made Burt feel insignificant. It made him feel like a terrible parent.

Carole told him he was being silly and he knew it was true. Blaine couldn't replace his role in Kurt's life. And Burt was not a bad father. He was a very good father. He and Kurt had a good relationship. Blaine had even commented on it when in his garage that day. He was being silly, because nothing could take his son away from him.

"So… you, uh… he treats you well, right?"

Kurt was looking at his father, his head tilted to the side. He held his head up, and the nodded. "Very well, dad. He's a perfect gentlemen. Always."

"You said you loved him the other day, Kurt. I knew it was serious… and I just… I guess I'm trying to come to terms with all of this. It's a little strange for me, kid. I still picture you being four years old and parading around in your mom's shoes."

"Oh God." Kurt put his hands over his face after another quick look to make sure Blaine was fast asleep. The latter boy was of course, although he did shift slightly. "Please, Dad. This is embarrassing."

"You're a grown up now, Kurt. And you're going through some terrible things right now and they're going to get worse before they get better." Burt said slowly.

"I just want to sleep." His son was shrinking down into the bed. "I'm tired."

"You've got just a few more days in here, kid. When you come home it's going to be a lot different and I just… I just want to make sure you know that it's going to be harder." He leaned over, brushing Kurt's hair back. "You won't be on as good of painkillers. You'll be sore, and you'll start remembering things…"

"Dad…"

"Kurt, you have to know that this isn't going to be something you can keep inside because if you do… it'll eat you alive. It's going to be very hard. But you've got me, Carole, and Finn…" he paused briefly. "And Blaine. There are at least four people who you can talk to. Please utilize that because if you don't, things will be so much harder on you… so much harder."

Kurt swallowed. He remembered what happened. He just told people he didn't because he didn't want to talk about it. He felt bad for lying but thinking about it made him feel small and inferior. It made his insides run cold. He didn't think he could handle talking about it.

"I want you to press charges, Kurt. When you remember, I want you to talk to someone. You can come to me if you want, or you can go to Blaine. But I want you to talk to someone. Then that someone will take you down to the police station so you can file a report. I want whoever did this to you to pay."

Kurt swallowed again, looking out the window. Away from his dad and away from Blaine.

"You almost died, kiddo. This is not okay." Burt said in a firm but gentle voice. "You've got to go after the sick person that did this to you."

Kurt's face screwed up, his lip starting to tremble.

"I don't care who you are or what choice you made or didn't make. Nobody has the right to do this to you. Do you hear me?"

Kurt just let out a choked sob, wanting his dad to stop talking. He didn't want to think about this now. That's why he didn't bring it up. He reached for the little button that let him dispense his pain medicine.

"No." Burt took it away. "That medicine is for this and this." He pointed to Kurt's arm and chest. "Not for this." He pointed to his head.

"But my head hurts." His voice came out a little squeak.

"What are you so afraid of, Kurt? You've always been so proud of who you are. You've always stood up for what was right."

"Who I was hadn't gotten me almost killed before last week, though, had it?" Kurt's voice rose, and Blaine's eyes snapped open and he sat up straight, rubbing his face. "No. It hadn't. Before I could walk to my car and not get attacked. If the police find them, they could come back and try to finish what they started."

"If you don't have the police find them, they could do that too! You can't be a child about this because this is your life! You had no problem getting help and going to Dalton when things at McKinley got bad. Why can't you go to the police now?"

"Because it won't make a difference, Dad!" Kurt's voice had risen even more. Blaine was glued to his seat, staring. He didn't know what to say and most definitely didn't want to get involved. Not yet, at least. "It won't make a difference because I'm gay, Dad! Nobody cares what creeps do to a fag!"

"Don't you use that language! Don't you dare, Kurt!" Burt's voice rose too. "People care. I care, Carole cares. These doctors care. Your teachers care. Your friends care! Blaine cares!" he pointed to Blaine, who shifted uncomfortably as Kurt's eyes fell on him.

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you going to tell me that this boy is dropping out of school to take care of you, drove three hours in the middle of the night to see you, has barely slept, has barely eaten, and that his feelings don't matter?" Burt said slowly.

"That's not what I meant, dad! You're twisting my words and you don't understand!" Kurt let out a choked sob, gripping his sheets. "You don't understand what it's like to h-h-have this stuff happen a-and nobody notice."

"That's what you meant, Kurt, because it's what you said. If you think his opinion doesn't matter, then you look him in the face and tell him to go back to school because you know as well as I do that that is where he belongs. You had no right asking him to move back, especially if you're going to act like his thoughts don't matter!"

The sobs were harder now, and Kurt gasped for breath. "You're t-t-twisting my words! Stop it!"

Blaine jumped up and rushed over, sitting on the side of the bed and wrapping his arms around Kurt. "Shh, shh. It's okay. Come here, sweetie."

Kurt scooted closer, head burrowing in Blaine's neck. He helplessly cried for several long minutes. Burt angrily glared out the window, not knowing how to handle this. Why was Kurt acting this way? Burt was just trying to help. Blaine just looked straight ahead, whispering sweet nothings in Kurt's ear and kissing his face.

"That's not what I m-m-meant! It's not what I m-meant!" Kurt sobbed helplessly.

"It's okay, it's okay. I know that's not what you meant, Kurt. I know." Blaine rocked him slowly and gently. "I know, honey. I know exactly what you meant."

Burt looked up at that.

"You do?" Kurt sniffed, looking at him.

"Of course I do, silly." Blaine smiled at Kurt. Kurt was in the middle of sending his dad a 'See, I told you' look when Blaine continued. "It doesn't, however, mean I agree with you."

Burt grunted.

"What Kurt is trying to say is that even though his family and friends care, that other people don't." Blaine explained quietly. "But that isn't true, Kurt. I cared before I was your friend. And there are several other people who don't even know you that would and do care. Why do you think there are so many gay rights activists out there? Because stuff like this happens a lot and they care and want to stop it."

Kurt sniffed, looking down.

"People can't stop this if you don't help them, Kurt. And your dad is right. You said that if you told the police they may come back to finish what they started… but you don't know that they won't do that anyway. The most important thing is your safety."

"Y-you think I should pr-press charges?" Kurt let out a watery hiccough.

"I think that I would if I was you… but I'll support you either way." Blaine answered carefully and quietly. Kurt began to cry into Blaine's shoulder again and Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's messy hair. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But you're not alone, and everything is going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you as long as I'm here. Okay? No one will ever lay a hand on you again."

"I don't know who it was." Kurt gasped out through his sobs. "I d-didn't know them. T-they just j-j-jumped me when I was w-walking to m-my car!"

"Did you see them?" Blaine asked softly. "Did you recognize them from anywhere?"

He shook his head, face red and puffy. "I d-don't think s-so. T-they were r-r-really tall and s-strong. T-t-the first one g-grabbed m-my b-bag and pulled me bac-back as I was g-grabbing my keys."

"How many were there, Kurt?" Burt asked. "You said the first one."

"T-three I think. B-because… because…" His breaths came out in short gasps now and his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes. "Because the f-first guy g-grabbed my bag and t-threw it at a bigger guy. A-and another one grabbed my phone—."

"You were on it?"

"No, I'd just got off it. H-he grabbed it and I screamed for him to stop, so he threw it down and stomped on it. T-Then the g-guy with my bag threw it down and m-my laptop broke and the two were just l-laughing and saying something."

"What were they saying?"

"I don't know! T-the one kept saying, 'Teach him a lesson!' and the other guy was just… he was just talking, I don't know!" Kurt's voice was very high and hysterical.

Blaine rubbed Kurt's shoulder gently. "Calm down. Shh. It's alright. Take your time, Kurt. Catch your breath. Let's take a little break?"

Kurt shook his head quickly. "He k-kept saying 'Teach him a lesson! He's a f-f-faggot, teach him a lesson!' and I tried to g-get away but the b-big one pushed me i-into a wall a-and h-he c -called me a Pretty Boy and h-he hit me h-here." His shaking hand touched above his right eyebrow. "A-and I kept saying 'Let me go, let me go!' but he just… he just wouldn't listen. He hit m-my jaw r-really hard and my h-head smacked t-the wall really, really hard."

Blaine's hand went behind Kurt's head and he gently stroked the messy, dirty hair there in a soothing way.

"And I tried to k-kick him and I must have because then he… he…"

"He what, Kurt?" his dad urged.

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He p-punched m-my stomach really h-hard. I f-felt vomit in my mouth. H-he hit me there again and again and m-my mouth opened and I go-got throw up on him and he sl-slammed me up against the wall again and s-started hitting my c-chest r-r-really hard. It hurt so bad." He whimpered, and it tugged on Blaine's heart strings. "The other t-two kept c-cheering and it w-was disgusting. He kept punching me in the f-face and my s-stomach a-and then he quit."

"He quit?"

"I thought he was done." Kurt's voice shook and he took a deep, steadying breath and leaned against Blaine. "B-but then he m-moved me and t-threw me into a w-wood p-power line t-thing an-and h-he s-slammed my head i-into it r-really hard." He took another deep breath. "T-Th-then I h-heard this c-crack w-when he k-kneed me j-just over my stomach. And he m-moved back to my face and just hit me again and again and again a-a-and…" he swallowed, rubbing furiously at his eyes. "He kept saying, 'You're not so pretty n-n-now, are you, you f-faggot?' and I j-just couldn't say anything anymore because I'd been s-screaming the w-whole time and m-my throat hurt a-and m-my lip and nose w-were bleeding and it k-kept going down my throat and it was s-so n-nasty. A-and then he punched me again a-and I just felt like… like I'd died. It h-hurt so bad and then I woke up and… and I was here."

The room was silent, bar Kurt's sobs into Blaine's shoulder. Blaine had his teeth gritted and tears were in his eyes, but he did not loosen his hold on his boyfriend. Burt paced the floor, taking deep breaths. His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his eyes narrowed. He didn't know what to do, what to think. He was so angry this had happened to his son. His son.

"I tried s-so hard to get away, D-Daddy. I r-really did b-but he was too big." Kurt's voice came out so quietly and made him sound so small, like a seven year old who was afraid he was going to get into trouble for breaking a glass.

Burt rushed forward and in one swift moment had pulled Kurt out of Blaine's arms and into his own, hugging him. Kurt began to sob even harder into his chest, muttering all kinds of words that no one could even understand. Burt rocked him back and forth while patting his back. "Whoever did this to you will pay, Kurt." He vowed. "I will find these men and I will make sure that they pay for what they did to you."

"I really tried." Kurt sobbed. "I'm so, so, so sorry. I really tried to get away."

"I know, kid. I know you did." He kissed the top of Kurt's head. "I'm so proud of you, Kurt."

Burt didn't release his hold on Kurt for nearly half an hour, when the nurse came in to check his vitals and his medicine. She changed out his IV bag, unaware of the awful discussion that had just occurred in the room. She hummed cheerfully as she asked him how he felt, not noticing or choosing not to bring up his puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks. After telling Burt that his dinner would be in soon, she left.

Blaine sat on the edge of the bed and Burt stood on the other side, his hand on Kurt's shoulder. The renewed silence was short-lived, however, because Burt's cell phone rang. He sighed. "Hello… What exactly happened? … Well this is a really bad time, Jeff. I don't know what to tell you…"

"It's okay, Dad." Kurt whispered.

"No. I'm not leaving, Kurt." Burt said to him. "They can find a way to figure it out."

"I feel better. Honestly. You can come back after you resolve the crisis and we'll all stand around and sing or whatever, if you'd like. But go."

"Are you sure?" Burt looked in his face, lowering the phone.

"Yeah." Kurt shrugged. He really didn't mind if his dad left because he did feel better, and really wanted some alone time with Blaine so they could cuddle. There were just some things you didn't do in front of your father, and cuddling your boyfriend was one of them. "I've got Blaine. Plus, there's a marathon of Project Runway coming on. We both know how much you hate that show. I'll be fine."

Burt found himself a bit thankful for the crisis at work upon hearing that. Watching Teen Mom the night before had been torture enough. He wouldn't mind missing a few hours of Project Runway. "I will be back. Soon. Okay, kiddo? Very soon."

Kurt nodded, sniffling. "Okay, Dad."

"Do you want anything? Food or magazines or drinks? Want me to bring you back a new laptop and cell phone?"

"While any other time I would use the fact that you feel very sorry for me and would probably buy me a new car right now and ask for everything under the moon… I really don't want anything right now other than to watch TV. Thanks though."

"Do you want or need anything, Blaine? Food, book?" Burt asked.

"I'm fine. Thank you though." Blaine said softly. "If he decides he wants anything, I'll call you."

Burt nodded and ruffled Kurt's hair. "I'll be back as soon as I can, kiddo. I promise."

"Go on, get out of here." Kurt waved him off. "And tell Jeff he really needs to stop wearing those polo shirts with that green t-shirt like I know he is and make sure you say that they just look awful on him."

Burt snorted and left, shaking his head. He slowly closed the door behind him.

Kurt looked up at Blaine and sniffled a bit.

"Scoot over, you." Blaine said, glad Kurt could move more now and he wasn't banished to half on and half of the bed. Kurt scooted over carefully and looked down at his hands. Blaine leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "He lied."

"What?" Kurt looked up, his blue eyes shining from his tears still.

"That guy lied. You're still beautiful."

Kurt leaned against the older boy, smiling a bit. "I love you, Blaine."

Blaine kissed his cheek and pulled him even closer. Kurt fit perfectly against him, and the two pressed together comfortably. Blaine stroked his side gently as they snuggled. "I love you too, Kurt."