It was horrible to see Kurt so scared all over again. Blaine felt so painfully powerless, sitting in Kurt's living room next to his friend. Burt sat opposite them; Finn took an armchair to Blaine's left; Carole hovered in the doorway.
Burt had wanted to call the police straight away, but Carole had argued that, since Karofsky didn't technically do anything, there wasn't anything the police could do.
"He didn't do anything?" Burt had bellowed. "He threatened to kill my son!"
Kurt had stopped crying, but he was breathing deeply and his shaking hands were clutching tightly onto Blaine's. Finn noticed the contact but didn't say anything.
Still raging about Kurt's transfer to Dalton, and all the drama with Karofsky's father, and the ignorance of people, Burt had failed to pick up on how closely his son sat next to Blaine. Blaine was glad about that, because (listening to Kurt's father's fury now) he knew he didn't want to be on the receiving end of a rant from Burt Hummel.
After a few minutes of Burt pacing past the coffee table, Carole strode up to him and put an arm round his shoulders, coaxing him out the room. "Come on, honey," she was saying. "I'll make you a coffee. There's nothing we can do about it tonight anyway."
The two of them left, leaving Blaine, Kurt and Finn in an uncomfortable silence. Blaine could sense that Finn wanted to go too, but chivalry and concern was keeping his in his seat. When Finn glanced up and saw Blaine looking at him, he frowned. Blaine raised his eyebrows towards the door and mouthed, "I got this." Finn gave him a nervous smile of relief and headed out the door, patting Kurt supportively on the shoulder as he passed.
Kurt had been very still all this time, if you weren't counting the shivering. When the door clicked shut, he almost seemed to melt, collapsing onto Blaine and burying his face into Blaine's blazer shoulder.
Blaine managed to extract his arm from underneath Kurt and wrapped it round him, murmuring consolations since he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I just – " Kurt hiccoughed " – I thought he'd gone. I thought we'd won." Blaine noted the use of the word "we", but just nodded in response. "You know, not like I'd beaten him or anything, but just that... We're at Dalton. Safe. Don't have to be scared anymore." Kurt played his hands, twisting his fingers together. "And then when I saw him... I was scared. So scared. And it had just all crumbled; it didn't matter about transfer, because he's still here."
Blaine held Kurt tightly. "Maybe he didn't mean to scare you," he suggested. "There's no reason to suspect the worst – he didn't do anything – "
Kurt pulled his legs up under him and sniffed dramatically. "I guess," he said, wiping his eyes. "Did I overreact? Getting you to come all the way here with no warning, I mean. Which you didn't have to do, by the way."
"I wanted to come. I wanted to check you were okay," Blaine said. "I'm so glad you told me; if something had happened, I'd've felt so guilty."
Kurt smiled, and Blaine felt relief wash over him like air conditioning. Kurt was smiling, so everything was fine. He smiled back and rubbed Kurt's shoulder.
The two sat in companionable quiet for a few minutes, before Kurt squirmed and looked at Blaine. "I forgot!" he cried. "How was your rehearsal? Did you talk about it earlier?"
Blaine almost laughed: here he was, supposed to be comforting Kurt and instead being asking about his day. "I don't even know, Kurt," he answered finally. "She was completely crazy."
"Oh, really?" That had piqued Kurt's interest, and he sat up, looking at Blaine expectantly with his big blue eyes.
Blaine half-smiled, licked his lips absently as he thought of what to say. "Well... yeah." He sighed and continued. "She lives in this massive house, spoiled completely rotten – " he took a breath " – and she tried to kiss me."
He almost chuckled at Kurt's overdramatic gasp. "But then," he said, and paused. "Then I told her I was gay, and she practically threw me out herself."
Kurt guffawed and ran a hand through his hair. "Girls are such mysteries," he agreed sympathetically. "So does that mean you're not singing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' with her?"
Blaine shrugged. "I have no idea what it means, Kurt. But I hope I never have to see her again. She was a nightmare."
"It's hard to believe that schools like Dalton and Crawford Country Day are, in some respects, complete replicas of McKinley," Kurt said sadly, leaning back down on Blaine's shoulder companionably.
"But, hey," Blaine said suddenly. "Did we forget to celebrate our victory of getting leads for the annual Dalton Christmas fête?"
Kurt beamed playfully, gazing happily up at Blaine. "I think we did," he replied.
"Unbelievable," Blaine laughed. "Well, Kurt, congratulations."
"Yes, you too," Kurt smiled. "I'm assuming we'll be opening with our winning number?"
"Naturally," Blaine responded. "I guess the Warbler council'll have some requests; we'll have to write a little bit of material; it should be a lot of fun."
Kurt rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "I'm so excited," he said.
"Excited enough to forget about Karofsky? Just for now?"
Kurt's blue eyes bored into Blaine, trying to figure something out. "What makes you say that?"
Blaine sighed. "This is Dalton, Kurt. This is us. We're fine. We're safe. And so long as Karofsky doesn't do anything, it'll stay that way. There're no threats and we don't have to worry."
Kurt sighed, defeated. "I'll try, Blaine. I'll truly try. But I can't make any promises."
"Well," said Blaine, "what if I were to promise to be here for you, whatever happens? Would you finally relax then?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, and smiled. "Fine."