Blaine was surprisingly quiet the next day at school. Kurt had assumed that, now that they'd officially sorted their problems and were friends again, Blaine and he would be getting on as normal. Thus, it caught him off-guard when Blaine shuffled into home room late the next day and slid into his seat without a word. He sat with his head in his hands, and Kurt felt that Blaine blocking the view of his face was deliberate.
Kurt cautiously tucked his legs under his chair and leant forward. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.
Blaine's response of "nothing" was exceptionally forced.
Swallowing his frustration and worry, Kurt reached out a hand to rub Blaine's shoulder comfortingly. He shrank back when Blaine recoiled. "What have I done?" Kurt's mind was racing to pinpoint the moment he'd offended his friend.
Again, Kurt was met with an unconvincing "nothing".
"Blaine, you're started to worry me," Kurt said, hearing the fear in his voice.
At this, Blaine's honey-brown eyes appeared over his fingertips, wide and puffy. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Kurt frowned. "What for?" he asked quietly. "You haven't done anything." Despite his outward coolness, he was already plotting the murder of whomever had made Blaine cry.
Blaine lowered his hands, and Kurt gasped in horror. A big, purple bruise shadowed Blaine's jaw, curling round under his chin. "What happened?" Kurt whispered through the hand he didn't notice he had over his mouth.
"My dad happened," Blaine replied, his voice cracking on the word "dad". He tried to laugh and brush it off airily.
"Blaine," Kurt said. It wasn't to address him, or get his attention – it was just to comfort himself that Blaine was still here, still him, still perfect. "Oh, Blaine." Kurt felt his eyes tear up and reached for Blaine, pulling him close in a gratefully accepted hug. His head buried in Blaine's shoulder, he could hear Blaine's tiny sniffs, feel Blaine's shoulders shake.
"Why did he do it?" Kurt asked into Blaine's blazer.
Blaine paused. "We disagreed on something."
"What?"
"Whether I'm gay or not."
Kurt groaned sympathetically, feeling his stomach twist with anger. "I'm so sorry, Blaine."
"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Kurt," Blaine said, leaning out of the hug and looking Kurt in the eye. "I'm fine, okay?"
"No, you're not, Blaine."
"Well, that's my problem. You don't need to let it worry you."
"It will worry me," Kurt argued earnestly. "Whether I want it to or not."
Blaine lowered his gaze to the floor for a moment. "It's okay. You went through much worse at McKinley and you didn't have anyone looking out for you there."
"That's not the point!" Kurt carefully raised a hand to Blaine's jaw, gently brushing over the mark. "It's not fair," he said tearfully. "This shouldn't happen – not to you."
Blaine cleared his throat and grabbed Kurt's hand bringing it down to the table. "There's nothing we can do about it now. And, hey, I know at least to not antagonise my dad."
Kurt blinked and shook his head in disbelief, allowing his tears to fall. Blaine wiped them away with the corner of his blazer sleeve. "Don't worry about me, Kurt," he insisted, "please."
Taking a shaky breath, Kurt said, "but if it ever happens again – "
"I'll be on the first bus to your house, alright? I promise." Blaine nodded assuringly.
It hurt Kurt in too many ways to list to agree to condemning Blaine to a life of fear and potential assault, but, if Blaine was so certain he'd be okay, he didn't feel that he could do anything about it. He gave Blaine another quick hug before the bell went and their teacher began talking.