Hi guys! So. This chapter is really long but also really important. Sorry about the lack of fluffy/happy/witty banter. It's pretty angsty, just warning. I also have used two songs in the chapter that you should definitely check out. First is from RENT and it's called I'll Cover You. The second one you'll see is a cover of Sara Bareilles song Gravity. The link to the guitar cover is here ( .com/watch?v=kDnudMA8U-o ) ok but obviously with youtube in front of that because won't let me do links. and you should definitely check it out because it's beautiful and just the way I imagine Blaine singing it. Anyway I really hope you enjoy because this chapter was a monster to write!

Chapter 5

The first morning Kurt got back to New York, he woke up just as the sun was rising, intending to work on some of his sketches for his job.

But as he stretched out across the kitchen table with his sketch pad, pencils and coffee, he felt himself itching for something else.

So he picked up his paintbrushes.

He picked up the largest of the group and fingered the tiny bit of ribbon that Blaine had wrapped around it, before gently unwrapping it, and running his fingers lightly over the bristles.

Yes, he would indulge.

He didn't know what to paint, or if he even could anymore, he just knew he wanted to. He had to. His head was too full for anything else.

His head was full of leftover Christmas memories, time spent with his family, and some old members of the New Directions. It was full of Christmas gifts, and grocery lists, numbers on bills, orders from Julius, rows and rows of stitches on a new cloth.

But, more than anything, his head was full of Blaine. It was full of Blaine with his guitar, Blaine in bed, Blaine with stubble, Blaine underneath him, Blaine kissing him, Blaine laughing, Blaine brushing his teeth, Blaine with snowflakes in his hair, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.

In truth, he was scaring himself. He needed to stop thinking.

So he picked up the brush.

He started mixing colours. They combined easily and he splashed swathes of burnt orange onto the canvas.

It cleared his head almost immediately. His mind became blissfully blank, his hands doing the thinking. They hadn't done that since the day he met Blaine in the park.

He painted for hours, unaware of space, time or conscious thought. He was at the mercy of his hands and he revelled in it.

When he finally shook himself from his trance, a scene lay in front of him. It wasn't complete, but Kurt recognized it immediately.

That day at the lake, in the park. The colours he had decided he wanted to paint as he watched Blaine row them across the water.

It was a swirling mix of orange, auburn, and deep red. Kurt surveyed the autumn colours over the lake and was pleased. He had been sketching for so long, he was happy he remembered the art of colour.

He studied the mix of colours and textures critically, noticing the errors in his technique from years of disuse. Despite the obvious flaws in his work, when he looked at it, Kurt felt something he hadn't in a long time.

Pride.

His sore wrists forced him away from the painting after a few hours. When he finally mustered the energy to get dressed, he decided to go for a walk and get some coffee.

It was bitterly cold outside. Kurt wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and did up the top button on his coat as protection against the icy air.

Despite the cold, he strolled leisurely, enjoying being back in New York after his stay in Lima. His feet took him to the park, which was only a few blocks from his apartment and he stopped for coffee at Le Pain Quotidien. He held the warm cup close to his chest and sipped delicately as he walked. He didn't notice when he walked right into a homeless man curled up against the brick wall, in a thin sleeping bag. He stumbled, apologizing quickly.

"Oh sorry I didn't - "

The moment Kurt saw his face the wind was knocked out of his chest.

"Blaine?"

Kurt recoiled, and took an involuntary step backwards. He felt as if he had just run head on into a wall.

A thousand thoughts were warring with each other in his head, jockeying for his attention.

Suddenly, so many things made sense. Why he'd never seen Blaine's apartment. Why Blaine always wore the same two shirts. Why he didn't have a phone.

He was homeless.

"Kurt..." Blaine's voice cracked and he trailed off, coughing violently.

Betrayal and anger swirled in his stomach. He couldn't believe it. He refused to. He felt his carefully constructed world crumbling. This couldn't be happening.

He made himself look at Blaine again.

Blaine was staring up at him with wide eyes, pleading eyes.

But as Kurt looked closer he saw something far more disturbing.

Blaine's lips were blue.

He dropped to his knees in front of Blaine and took his hand.

It was ice cold.

Suddenly, all he felt was concern.

"Blaine, how long have you been out here?"

Blaine gave a non-committal shrug, a move made difficult by his violent shivering.

"Couple days I guess." Blaine's voice was hoarse, and speaking sparked another coughing fit.

Kurt's stomach dropped. That probably meant he had been there since Kurt left before Christmas. Kurt watched him anxiously as he wheezed for breath.

"Blaine, you're too cold. We need to get you to a hospital. I think you might have hypothermia."

"No! No, no Kurt I can't." He pleaded, choking on his words.

Kurt still had his hand in his; it wasn't warming up.

"I don't, I don't have any insurance. I can't afford the hospital."

Kurt surveyed Blaine desperately. His heart was racing; he didn't know what to do. Blaine had to go to the hospital. He was so cold, he was barely conscious.

"Kurt, just go. Just leave. Please." Blaine whispered as he closed his eyes, leaning back heavily against the wall.

For a split second, Kurt considered it. After all the lies, what did he owe Blaine?

He swore under his breath.

"Blaine. Blaine, get up."

No. Leaving him wasn't an option. Because something in the back of his mind told him that if he left Blaine there, he would most certainly die.

Kurt wasn't sure how he managed it, but he pulled Blaine to his feet and steadied him against his shoulder as they walked at an agonizing pace out of the park. As soon as he could, Kurt hailed a cab to take them back to his apartment.

He didn't know what he was doing.

Blaine didn't speak the whole way back. Kurt didn't think he could. He seemed barely conscious; the effort of just getting up and getting into the cab seemed to have worsened things. He just sat, curled up on the seat beside Kurt, shaking.

After what seemed like forever, they reached his apartment. Once inside, Blaine stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking as if he didn't want to sit down anywhere, despite the fact he looked ready to collapse. His knees were shaking badly.

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered. He moved towards him and gently tugged his jacket off his shoulders. The slight movement caused Blaine's legs to fail, and he started to fall. Luckily, Kurt managed to catch him before he crashed to the ground. He propped him up, walking them towards the bedroom. Kurt carefully sat Blaine on the edge of the bed where he continued to shiver violently.

"Let me help you," said Kurt as he started to peel off the outer layers of Blaine's ice cold clothes.

Blaine seemed paralyzed and merely gaped at Kurt, open mouthed.

As Kurt peeled off Blaine's shirt, his hands came into contact with the bare skin underneath it. He gasped when he felt how cold it was.

Blaine continued to stare numbly, coughing and struggling to breathe. Kurt surveyed him as he undid the button on his jeans that were frozen stiff, and he waited for a reaction but none came.

Kurt worked quickly, aware of the seconds ticking by and the fact that Blaine didn't seem to be getting any warmer. Kurt had never seen anyone shake so hard. He could hear the chattering of Blaine's teeth even as he tried valiantly to set his jaw, and failed.

Once he had Blaine's frozen clothes off, Kurt quickly began swaddling Blaine in anything he could find to warm him up. He wrapped blanket upon blanket around him, hoping desperately that once he warmed up a little, it would snap him out of his shock-like state.

Kurt chewed on his bottom lip as Blaine continued to shake.

"Is that any better?" he asked.

"Sssgood." Blaine mumbled through his chattering teeth. Just as soon as the words left his mouth, his head rolled forward onto his chest as he began to lose consciousness.

Kurt knew next to nothing about hypothermia, but he knew that this wasn't good.

"Blaine no! Blaine, you have to stay awake." He lifted Blaine's head with his hand and shook him. "Stay awake for me okay. Blaine, just, please."

Blaine's body convulsed in response.

Kurt knew he had to do something. So he changed his approach. He began stripping off his own clothes.

Once he has also in his underwear, he unwrapped Blaine from his blanket cocoon and lay him down on the bed. He then quickly lay down beside him and wrapped them in the duvet together. He pressed his body as close to Blaine's as possible and hissed when his bare skin came into contact with Blaine's. So cold.

Kurt could hear Blaine's teeth chattering as he let out a low moan.

"Blaine." Kurt whispered.

He wanted so badly to comfort him, to warm him up, to let him know it would be okay.

But the feeling of Blaine's cold skin against his own was causing him to draw a blank, and any comforting words he might have offered seemed to disappear.

In a moment of desperation, the only thing he could come up with was song.

Live in my house

I'll be your shelter

His voice was thin and tremulous, but Kurt continued; mumbling more than singing, needing Blaine to hear his voice.

Just pay me back

With one thousand kisses

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, rubbing slow, deep circles across his freezing back. He pulled Blaine's head into his chest and wrapped his legs around Blaine's, intertwining them, using his toes to try to restore some of the circulation.

Blaine convulsed against his body and Kurt ached, pulling him closer.

"Shhhh." He cooed, trying to gather words in his head but finding only lyrics instead.

Be my lover

He took Blaine's fingers and pressed them into his chest for warmth.

And I'll cover you

It was frightening and intimate all at the same time. He could feel Blaine's wheezing breath against his chest and he felt every shiver as if it were his own. It was cold, but he held tight, sharing the warmth of his body with Blaine and silently willing him to be okay. Kurt continued piecing together bits of song; not knowing whether it was to comfort Blaine or to reassure himself. Either way, the fragmented lyrics tumbled from his lips as he murmured into Blaine's hair.

Just slip me on

I'll be your blanket

He felt cold lips against the thrumming veins in his neck.

And I'll cover you

Kurt lost track of time after a while, but he did notice when the shaking subsided. Blaine had long since fallen asleep and Kurt took comfort in the fact that the wheezing seemed to have lessened and his skin was a little warmer against his own.

Kurt could finally breathe again. He was going to be okay.

But with this welcome realization came an entirely unwelcome rush of emotion.

He barely knew the man in the bed beside him.

The realization settled on his chest like dead weight, and Kurt uncurled himself from Blaine's sleeping form and picked his clothes up off the floor.

Kurt stewed for hours while Blaine slept. He moved listlessly around the apartment, never able to settle in one place for more than a few minutes. Gradually, as time slipped by, his anger overtook him.

He wanted to believe that there was a logical explanation for all this; that Blaine would wake up and explain it all away. They could go back to being in love and pretend that none of this had happened. But he couldn't shake one thought that kept coming back.

Blaine lied.

Kurt's hands twitched at his sides and he wished he had something to do with them. He briefly contemplated painting, but he didn't want to ruin the scene from that morning with his anger.

So he set about making tea instead. He tapped his foot impatiently for a few minutes, waiting for the kettle to boil before he realized it wasn't plugged in. Huffing in annoyance, he pulled a mug out of the cupboard and slammed it down on the counter harder than he meant to.

How could he have been so stupid?

He sunk down to the floor with the realization of it.

He had been fooled by a pretty face and a silky voice.

He had fallen in love with a lie.

He sat there, still for minutes on end, staring out the kitchen window. Noticing the dusky light outside, Kurt wondered how the whole day had slipped by without him noticing. It seemed only moments ago that it had been morning and he had been on top of the world.

All he could feel now was loss. Picking up the cup of tea, he padded down the hallway to the bedroom.

He was surprised to find himself face to face with Blaine when he opened the door.

"Kurt." Blaine exhaled. "I'm s-"

"Don't."

"B-"

"No, really, don't. You lied to me! What else was a lie Blaine? Everything?" Kurt hadn't planned on raising his voice, but once he started, he couldn't stop, his voice tinged with pain.

"No, Kurt. You have to believe me. Everything else was the truth, who I am, how I felt, everything. I just didn't know how to tell you about this. I wanted to, I did!"

Kurt wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe so badly that the man he had fallen in love with wasn't a huge lie.

"Is this what you do?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer. "Pick up well-off strangers so that you'll have a place to live? Was it because I was wearing nice clothes? Did you assume I was rich and stupid enough to support you?"

Blaine seemed to crumple before his eyes. "No. No, Kurt, please. I love you."

"Don't tell me you love me! You don't lie to the people you love!" His voice had risen to a hysterical level and he couldn't help it. As he spoke he forgot the cup of tea he was holding and it flew out of his hand. The mug shattered and tea went everywhere.

Blaine jumped backwards and threw his hands up in front of his face, fast. Too fast. Like it was a reflex.

"Shit." Kurt ignored the broken mug on the floor and stepped towards Blaine. Too late, he realized that smashing things and yelling would probably trigger a whole slew of bad memories for Blaine.

"Blaine, I'm sorry. It was an accident. I wasn't going to...I would never hurt you."

Blaine flinched when Kurt reached his hand out to comfort him.

Guilt coiled in Kurt's stomach. He watched as Blaine shook his head as if to wake himself up from a bad dream.

"Thanks for...um...defrosting me?" Blaine grimaced and then shook his head, "No, thank you for saving my life...in more ways than one."

Kurt pulled in a breath and held it for a moment.

"Why?" He finally whispered.

"I never meant to hurt you. I was just thought that if you knew the truth...that you wouldn't want me anymore." Blaine answered after too many moments had passed in silence. "I guess I was right."

Kurt couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.

He twisted his hands together anxiously as the silence filled up the space between them. He was utterly lost. He didn't know what to do, what he could do. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he forced them back.

Kurt was determined that Blaine would never know just how badly he had broken him.

"Right." Blaine finally broke the silence. "I should go."

Finally tearing his eyes from the floor to meet Blaine's, Kurt couldn't speak. His head reeled with thoughts of where Blaine would sleep that night, Blaine's blue lips, hands that were still trembling with cold, black and yellow bruises and of the way Blaine sometimes woke up at night screaming and drenched in sweat.

It wasn't his problem anymore.

"You should."

"You're scaring off the tourists."

"I'm pretty sure that's the gloomy vibes you're throwing off more than me, the scary drug addict." Cecily replied from her spot on the bench beside Blaine.

The pair was deep in the Theater District on a grey Thursday afternoon. Cecily took another long drag from her cigarette as Blaine fiddled with the tuning pegs on his guitar.

"Can I borrow five bucks?"

"For drugs?" Blaine replied.

"...that's a distinct possibility..." Cecily said as she crushed the butt of her cigarette with her sneaker.

"Then, no."

"When are you going to learn that goody-two shoes Blaine's disapproval of my casual drug related hobbies is not going to get me to quit."

"Just because I can't get you to quit using, doesn't mean I'm going to finance your habit."

A few more wandering tourists shot them suspect glances as Cecily glared at them and stuck her tongue out.

"You're just a ray of sunshine today, aren't you?" Blaine half chuckled as he adjusted the neck strap on his guitar.

"You mean as opposed to you, the man who hasn't played a single happy song in a week? I swear to god if you play one more Adele song, I will cut you. And you think I'm the one scaring the tourists away? Go back to the Beatles, slather on some of that classic Blaine Anderson charm and they'll all come flocking back. You'll see."

Blaine grimaced.

"I've been feeling a little short on charm lately Cec."

"Gee whiz, I hadn't noticed."

"Have a heart Cecily, youngin' here got his heart stomped all over by that pretty boyfriend of his." Ray drawled as he ambled up and took a seat beside Cecily.

"Can we not discuss this anymore? I think the topic's been done to death." Blaine mumbled.

He really was sick of talking about it. Their constant dissection of Kurt's reaction, Blaine's brush with death and the subsequent falling out wasn't helping him forget.

The sooner he forgot Kurt, the sooner he would stop feeling like the entire world had stopped turning.

Cecily had attempted to be sympathetic, but sympathy was far from her forte. Everything she had said to Blaine held the stinging taint of I-told-you-so's. Cecily didn't believe in trusting people, and she certainly didn't believe in love.

Ray had mostly offered a plethora of somewhat comforting, albeit confusing, Southern clichés about love and broken hearts.

On this particular afternoon he offered,

"Even the best horses catch hay fever sometimes youngin'."

Blaine nodded as if he understood and Cecily made a confused face behind Ray's back, making Blaine laugh.

"What I'm tryin' to say," Ray continued through their laughter, "is that you can't let this get ya down Blaine. They'll be other men. More opportunities. You'll fall in love again."

Blaine was tempted to snap at him, but he held his tongue, knowing that his friends were only trying to help. But in all honesty, nothing did. Every time he thought of Kurt, he felt like his heart stopped.

He kept seeing Kurt's face in his mind. The expression he wore as Blaine left. It haunted him. He couldn't bear that he had done that to Kurt.

He shook his head as the memories of Kurt threatened to engulf him again. Almost a week after the confrontation with Kurt, Blaine had been doing better. He was singing again, and he didn't want to regress.

He needed to keep going; pushing forward.

He strummed his fingers along the strings lightly before beginning his next song choice.

It wasn't Adele. He acquiesced to Cecily's request, but only because she'd been with him all morning and had probably heard Adele's entire discography already. He also knew her patience was limited when she was in the early stages of withdrawal.

So he picked something different. It wasn't a chipper Beatles cover or Katrina and the Waves, and he certainly couldn't muster his usual mask of dapper charm. But it was pretty, and it was soothing. So he sang,

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

Cecily looked up at him when she recognized the song. Her eyes softened as she surveyed Blaine with something akin to empathy.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

Blaine tore his eyes away from the tiny crowd forming around him to look back at Cecily. He couldn't hear her, but he could read her lips as she mouthed,

"He broke your heart"

Blaine nodded in affirmation. She finally understood.

Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

He breathed in between verses, trying not to feel every word he sang reverberate in his chest. Everything ached.

After all, he had no one to blame but himself.

Believing that Kurt could love him for what he was had only ever been a fool's hope.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

By the time he was finishing the song, the world felt heavy on his shoulders again. A small crowd had gathered around and were dropping their coins bills and coins into his open case.

He nodded appreciatively, trying his best to conjure up some of what Cecily referred to as Anderson charm.

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.

He sighed as he sang the last line and watched the small crowd disperse. He felt drained, and all he wanted to do was find somewhere to curl up and sleep.

He secured his guitar back inside its case and looked up to say goodbye to Ray and Cecily, but found himself face to face with someone else entirely.

He stopped breathing.

"Kurt?"

Thanks for reading! All of you that have been reviewing so far have been absolutely amazing and your lovely comments have made my day so thanks so much :)