So I promised this would get and ending, and it will...eventually.

Warnings: talk of self-harm, suicide, bullying, drugs, and alcohol

The red-eye flight from New York to Columbus left at 3:30 AM.

It was midnight right now,

For Kurt, that meant three more hours of waiting before the plane even took off. Then another two hours before they landed in Columbus. Two more hours to drive from the airport to Lima.

Seven hours total. That's how long Kurt had to wait before he could even make it to the hospital, and that was if there weren't any problems on plane, if there wasn't any traffic, and if the made it straight from the airport to the hospital.

Forget how long it would take to even see Blaine...if he ever got to see him again. He could sit waiting in that hospital all day without getting to see him.

He still didn't know if Blaine was okay. Finn hadn't called back, and neither had Burt. He didn't know and he probably wouldn't find out until he landed in Columbus.

Blaine might be dead in seven hours. Kurt wouldn't know.

What if Blaine died while Kurt was on the plane? What if he was already gone when they reached the hospital?

He didn't like to think about it. But he kept thinking about it anyway.

Seven hours left, Kurt plenty of time to wait, plenty of time to think.

But thinking wasn't a good thing. It was a very bad thing, actually.

Everyone else tried to distract him, at least for a while. They didn't want to let him think too much.

But soon enough, the people around him started to fizzle out.

Brody and Adam left after about ten minutes when the tension had become unbearable. Adam had never met Blaine, and decided it was best if he left. Judging by his reactions, Kurt clearly wasn't over Blaine yet, not entirely. Having Adam around would only complicate things. Brody left soon after him, giving Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek before making sure she would call him they landed in Columbus. Brody had actually met Blaine, however briefly. And while Rachel's boyfriend didn't really know Blaine, he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. The look on Kurt's face was enough to ensure him that this was serious, this was bad.

Rachel and Santana stuck around longer. They clicked on another movie in an attempt to break the weighted silence and maybe provide a little distraction. It didn't work, of course. The two girls just sort of sat there, unsure of what to do to try and comfort Kurt or to comfort each other. Eventually they had to get up to pack their bags. Kurt was sure Rachel would pack something for him, so he didn't bother moving. He just kept thinking. About Blaine. About their past, all of their beautiful moments. About how excited he had been for their future together...

In fact, Kurt didn't move for another hour. He just sat there, staring off into the distance. Thinking. He was only roused by Rachel coming back into the room, two small bags in hand. She sank down next to him. "Kurt, c'mon. Time to get up," she whispered, gently tugging his arm.

He simply nodded, taking his suitcase from her hand and going to pull on his coat and wrap his scarf around his neck. He was slow, fingers fumbling with the buttons before he gave up. He was shaking too badly. He felt Rachel and Santana's eyes burning into him. They must be worried.

The cab ride to the airport was quiet and thankfully short. Not much traffic at this time of night. Kurt stared out the window, leaning his head against the cool glass while watching the city lights whizz by. This should have been their city, together. Blaine was supposed to move out here when he graduated and he was supposed to go to NYADA and someone was supposed to find him and put him on Broadway and their dreams were all supposed to come true. Things were supposed to be perfect. They'd both been through enough already, they deserved happiness. Blaine didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve to feel so horrible and depressed that this was his only option. Kurt decided that if Blaine made it though this, if he pulled through, that all was forgiven. All the anger in him had fled his body when Rachel broke the news. He couldn't be mad anymore, he could only be absolutely terrified. He was so scared that he would never get to tell Blaine that he loved him again, that he would never get to kiss him or see him happy and healthy or see his dreams come true.

Everything felt like a blur for Kurt. One minute they were in the cab, the next, in the airport, going through security. Finally, Kurt found himself on the plane, settling down in the seat closest to the window. Rachel was sitting next to him. She tapped him on the shoulder lightly, and he looked over at her, confused.

"You should get some rest," she said, handing him a pair of earbuds, "The flight is two hours, you've got time for a nap."

"Thanks," he mumbled, taking the earbuds and plugging himself in, choosing a random playlist from his IPod (which Rachel also magically produced from her carry on) and putting it on shuffle.

It took a few songs, before Kurt realized his mistake.

This was their playlist. Full of their songs. The ones that they'd blast in the car or listen to when they were at home. All the songs Blaine had ever sung to him. All the songs they'd ever sung together. Even songs that Kurt just felt summed them up. Love songs and sappy ballads. Sad songs too, for all the times when they'd made each other cry, but not in a mean way.

Kurt decided to keep it on. He hadn't encountered a sad song yet. Might as well keep it on, let himself relive all the beautiful memories. A part of him felt like turning it off would be a bad thing, that somehow and for some insane reason, something would happen to Blaine if he stopped listening and stopped thinking about him. It was like thinking about him was keeping his beloved alive, that somehow Blaine could feel that he was sorry and that he was on his way and that he still loved him. It was stupid, but it was all he had right now.

He was doing okay until Cough Syrup came on. He was living in a world of happy memories before that song came on. It made him think about what had happened the day Blaine sang it to him, almost crying...

It was right after Karofsky's attempted suicide. A lot of people took it hard, but his boyfriend just seemed to be taking it...differently. Blaine had asked him to come to the auditorium, that he had something he need to say, or sing, for that matter. Kurt was worried, but he agreed to meet him there anyway. Blaine sat him down on a stool at the edge of the stage, and took to the mic stand to start a song Kurt recognized from the very beginning.

And so began some of the worst moments of Kurt's most recent memories . Blaine wasn't himself. He looked sick and exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes, and he kept glancing over at Kurt without making eye contact, like he was trying to tell him something important. Kurt hated seeing his boyfriend so distressed. Frankly, it was unlike him. He was calm and collected without fail. And then the song started and Kurt felt like crying. Blaine wasn't meant to sing such sad songs. His voice was for Katy Perry chart-toppers and show tunes and 90s pop and sappy, sweet ballads. And he surely wasn't supposed to be able to sing such a sad song with so much pain in his voice. He sounded like he wanted to start crying, like he was choking on his own tears.

But soon, the song ended, fading on its final notes. Blaine was left there, clutching the mic stand so hard it was turning his knuckles white. After several seconds of tension, Blaine's head snapped up and he walked stiffly over to Kurt, pulling another stool up close to his boyfriend.

"Kurt," he whispered, reaching out to grasp his boyfriend's hand, "I-I need t-to talk to you about...something. There's...some things...that you-you don't know about me and I-I."

He went quiet for several seconds longer. Trying to figure out what to say. He'd practiced this, but nothing was helping him now.

He let out a shaky breath, "I-I can't do this here. Let's, um, just go back to my house...to, to t-talk. Alright?"

"Of course. Want me to drive?" Kurt asked, trying to cover his overly worried tone.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine."

The car ride was long, but quiet, no music or speaking. They were usually blasting pop music or show tunes and singing along by now. But this time was different. Blaine's eyes were still glistening with unshed tears, his face was ghostly pale, and his knuckles were once again white against the steering wheel. It was unlike him. He was always calm and collected. He was Kurt's rock, his anchor. He was the one who told him to just have courage. He was his role model, someone who had helped him so much, someone he loved with all his heart. But now, it seemed like Blaine was the one who was floating away and it seemed like it was going to be Kurt's job to ground him again.

Eventually, they pulled up the crunching gravel driveway leading up to Blaine's large house. Nobody else was home, Blaine's parents were away on business a lot. Blaine hurried up the steps, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. He waited for Kurt on the front step, and pushed the heavy doors open.

The made their way though the cavernous, impersonal hallways with their polished wood floors, Blaine leading the way because Kurt could never manage to remember which way to go.

They found themselves in Blaine's room. Kurt went and sat cross-legged on Blaine's bed, patting the mattress next to him.

"C'mon Blaine," Kurt started, already having some idea of where this conversation was going but hoping to God he was wrong, "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

Blaine nodded and dropped down next to Kurt, who placed a delicate hands on his love's bulkier shoulder. He shifted to get a better look at Kurt, and finally made eye contact again.

"Alright, yeah...yeah. I j-just don't really know where to even start. Um, okay,, so you know about what happened after, after the Sadie Hawkins Dance, right? How I got...beat up by a bunch of guys outside?" Blaine began, pausing.

"Yeah, you told me when I asked you to prom."

"Well...I might have, I dunno, lied a bit. I-I didn't make to big a deal about it then...but it was pretty serious. I mean, I-I was in the hospital for a pretty long time and after...after it happened things got really bad. Worse than they had been before. I-I well, I mean, I just," Blaine started again, giving a tortured sigh. He let out some deep breaths again, through his nose, trying to calm himself down. No breaking down in front of Kurt.

"It...it'll just be better if I show you...but, please. Please just let me explain and don't-don't say anything. Please," Blaine started again in a hurried, hushed tone.

Before Kurt could even react, before he could even nod, Blaine was rolling up his sleeves.

What Kurt saw made him sick.

There were scars, countless numbers of them. Dark against the pale skin of the dark-haired boy's wrist and forearms, but still fading gradually.

Kurt couldn't even stifle his gasp, it was involuntary. He never could have imagined it, from Blaine of all people. Blaine, his love. Happy, smiling Blaine. Pop song singing Blaine. Perfect, beautiful Blaine.

"I was so alone, Kurt," Blaine whispered, "So fucking alone. Everybody hated me, nobody talked to me. They only made fun of me, bullied me. Shoved me in lockers, hell, I'm short enough for it. My parents were mad with me, I-I think they hated me too. And-and my brother, Cooper, you've never met him, he went off to Hollywood. It was horrible Kurt, and I didn't know what to do. So-so I started...this. Right after I came out freshman year. It helped, for some reason, but...but I-I guess you wouldn't understand. And then...and then after that fucking Sadie Hawkins Dance everything just got worse. I-I lost myself, Kurt. I wasn't the same person anymore. Nobody seemed to even notice. I was really sick. I, um, well I kept hurting myself and...and I started sneaking my parent's booze when they weren't around, just to-to take the edge off and help me sleep because half the time I was kept up with these horrible, horrible nightmares. I, um, I started abusing the pain pills they gave me when I left the hospital too and I ended up getting...getting addicted to stronger stuff. Like, really bad stuff. Like, the Vicodin and Oxycodon kind of bad. And...and God, Kurt, things were just hell. I wanted...I wanted to die. I really did. I was so done with everything and I couldn't even go to school anymore because I was too scared. So, one night, when I thought I was alone...I tried it. Swallowed a whole lot of sleeping pills, almost the whole bottle one by one, and just went to bed like nothing was wrong. I didn't even bother leaving a note, there was nobody to say goodbye to. But my brother had decided to come home for a spontaneous visit, to surprise me and maybe cheer me up. He-he found me in bed though, realized something was wrong. Found the pill bottle next to me and put two and two together. He, uh, he stuck his fingers down my throat and got me to throw up some of the pills. It was gross, but it worked. He saved my life. I-I ended up in the hospital after that, then this rehab place where they got me off the drugs and alcohol and just...helped me deal with everything. They diagnosed me too, clinical depression. Gave me pills for that, and I still take those every day. I still need them. They gave stuff for my anxiety too, but I only take those when I really need them. Then I went to Dalton, you know the rest..." Blaine trailed off, gulping as tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

Kurt just hugged him, hard. He wanted to puke. God, he wanted to throw up right now. He'd never know this, any of this. How could he have never noticed? How could he have never noticed that Blaine never wore short sleeves? How could he have never noticed the pills bottles that were probably in Blaine's bathroom right now. How?

Finally, in a shaking voice, Kurt assured Blaine in as firm a voice as he could, flinching as Blaine buried his head in Kurt's sweater-clad shoulder and sobbed roughly, shaking, "Sweetheart, it's okay. I love you, I still love you so much. I-I don't even want to think about you like that, I can't even imagine it. Because you, Blaine, are special. You are wonderful and beautiful and talented and NOBODY is ever going to tell you are worthless ever again. I am here for you Blaine, just like you were there for me when I needed someone. It is never going to get that bad again Blaine, I won't let it. And if you ever need me, if you ever need to talk about this or if your ever worried or anxious or feeling bad again, just tell me and I'll be here quick as I can. Please, just say something sweetie."

Blaine disentangled himself from Kurt's hug, leaning into his beloved, "Thanks Kurt," he said, sniffling.

"And you don't have to tell anyone else," Kurt assured him, running his hands through the gelled hair.

"No, I-I have to. Now is as good a time as ever, and...and they deserve to know. They're my friends too."

Kurt nodded, giving Blaine a quick kiss of the forehead. He quickly texted his dad, letting him know he would be staying the night, that Blaine really needed him right now. He lied down on the bed, opening up a spot for Blaine to cuddle up next to him. They fell asleep in each other's arms that night, still fully clothed and utterly exhausted from all the emotions of that day.

And, back on the plane. Kurt found himself sobbing silently over the sing Cough Syrup because of everything it meant to him. Rachel and Santana pretended not to notice.

Feedback is appreciated. Don't know when the next update will be, really.