I'm Really Not Okay

Chapter 3: Sense

Blaine has thought about this a lot - from a lot of different angles. 'Have I a right, any right at all, to tell?' 'Have I a right to ask it…, this…, anything, of Kurt, of anyone?'

Blaine also used to think about what Burt might think of his actions, but since their last conversation, that day in Kurt's room, Kurt in his arms, somehow Blaine has stopped caring what Burt might think of anything he does, at least for now. Blaine himself hopes, still, this might change again, knows Burt has changed since Kurt has been in middle school.

Blaine does have an idea. He has doubts too. 'Is this what Kurt needs, what could really help him?' It is the one thought that keeps circling in Blaine's mind.

Blaine knows that he himself has still no idea, no idea at all how to help, really help Kurt get better. He has never been more thankful that he is here with Kurt, knows how to be here for him, how to hold and comfort. Blaine not only does love Kurt but knows how to show it – sure, in sometimes clumsy ways but always heart-wrenchingly clear and honest.

Especially holding Kurt, these days, Blaine keeps replaying the whole day it happened in his head - trying, and hard, to understand '…how…why did you cut yourself that day, Baby?'

It is a question he carries inside, wants to ask, needs to ask Kurt, but has not yet dared to, fearing less the answer more what else it might drive Kurt to do, having to face, acknowledge, his fears.

Never before that day, that talk with Burt, had Blaine noticed how heavily he has always relied on Burt to throw him a life-line whatever it was about Kurt that Blaine himself could not make sense of just yet.

From the irrational fear of vampires, that Finn strangely enough seems to be sharing with Kurt, to trying to install a stronger sense of self preservation in Kurt when talking about going to Prom in a kilt, sex-talks and pep-talks, dreams and disappointments, Burt had always been there when Blaine had not, or not known how to.

'Time before Dalton. Time before Glee…. Time after your mom's death...', Blaine knows Kurt had been alone '…so alone…' back then, had felt, if he is anything like Blaine – which Blaine knows Kurt is, the two of them alike in so many ways – had felt it even more so.

'Alone, abandoned,…unloved.'

So these days, really from the moment Kurt had woken back up in his arms, Burt still with them in Kurt's room, Blaine has made it his mission to tell Kurt, even more than usually that is, that, "…I love you, so much."

Kurt had only breathed back that day, in a voice shaky, trembling really, "I love you."

It has been days since, '…that day.' Days to Blaine long, filled to the brim with worry, fear and pain, having to wait and watch, watch and wait, afraid to push Kurt away instead of pushing through to him if he tries too hard..., or at all.

Then, today, barely twenty minutes ago, Blaine had decided that, 'They went to the same middle school. I know they weren't friends back then…but…it's the best shot I've got.'

So he had called Tina, told Tina, what has happened, what Burt has told him might have happened back when "…you two were in middle school, here,…in Lima. I…, I don't know who else to talk to. I don't know anyone else he might talk to about this. I'm sss…", and then a trembling had taken over Blaine's voice, and Tina's heart had another crack added to it, listening lovingly, knowing the last thing Blaine needs in this is someone interrupting him, "sssohhohorry. I'm afraid heh, heeh, will hate me if I ask for answers, that heh wihll think I'm trying to push him to beeh something, someohne, heh is noht."

The conversation has really only ended moments ago, with Tina, listening to Blaine through all of her twenty minute walk over to Kurt's place, on the phone to Blaine, trying to make sense of it all – Kurt meanwhile not for the first time asleep in his bedroom in the middle of the afternoon, having cried himself asleep in Blaine's arms for over an hour before – not saying a word, again; Blaine cooing soothing sounds and melodies, touches gentle.

The front door to the Hummels' house is still standing wide open, the freed sobbing of a teenage boy, muffled by a teenage girl's yellow t-shirt the only sound heard, as two shadows, falling on the doorstep, embrace each other.

A/N: I am surprised where this story is taking me, though not unpleasantly. How do you feel?