A/N: It's short, but I'll try to have the next chapter up soon. Weekend at Blaine's should be updated as soon as my writer's block on that story is lifted. Which is sometime in the near future, I hope. I'm putting the whole AN up here because of how it ends, so I'd just like to say you guys are amazing and I love you all. I can't respond to every review but I do read every one of them and take note of all the suggestions that I can possibly work with. Please please please review!

YOU'RE THE BEST! REALLY! -CatCompanion09

Kurt looked in the mirror, and, for the first time in a while, saw not a fat, too-pale boy, but a skeleton, each rib clearly visible under his scarred skin. He didn't want to be like this, but every time he ate without throwing up, he saw rolls of fat instead of his ribs. Too terrified to get help, he turned to cutting as an outlet. It didn't make sense- hurting yourself to feel better shouldn't work, but it gave him an illusion of control. And he wasn't about to let go of the one handle on life he still felt he had.

It had been a rough day. He had been slushied once (even Karofsky wasn't so cruel as to slushie anyone more than that in a day) but thrown into lockers at least eight different times. He could hear people whispering behind his back, along with the occasional shout. Homo. Fag. Queer. Lady-boy. Queen. Usually he could tolerate it, but something about today was different. It was just too much, and Blaine hadn't even texted him once that day. Sometimes a simple text was enough to stop him from sliding the razor across a patch of unmarked skin. Sometimes it would even convince him to eat and not throw up. But the latter usually required Blaine to call or actually be there. Slowly, Blaine was helping him regain control of his life without even knowing there was something wrong. Yes, there was something truly special about that absolutely gorgeous boy, and Kurt wanted to be around long enough to find out what exactly that was. His fingers found the razor blade he kept hidden in his bathroom, and he dug it into his skin between two fading cuts. The first had healed a while ago, and his chest was so covered he wouldn't be able to find it even if there was still a faint mark. But he still remembered exactly where it was. Right below his ribcage on the left side, a thin line that barely broke the skin. He was timid then, unsure of how much blood would spill. Nothing like now.

The feel of blood running down the blade onto his hand brought him back from his memories into reality. He looked down, and tears fell as the truth of what he'd become struck him, hard. He collapsed onto the bathroom floor, sobbing, the bloody razor blade still clutched tightly in his fingers. Blood dripped across his chest and onto the tile. Pain radiated from the fresh cut, but it didn't even feel real. Nothing did. At least, nothing did until he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt! Oh my god, Kurt, what happened?" Blaine was there. Of all the people to show up, it was Blaine.

Kurt just kept sobbing, unable to say he cut, unable to say he starved himself.

"Kurt, calm down. I'm not angry, or afraid. I'm here." And with that, Blaine found the bandages and brought the still-sobbing Kurt into his arms, doing what he could to clean and bandage the fresh cut.

"T-thank you." Once the cut was bandaged, Kurt hugged Blaine, not caring that the older boy could feel his ribs.

"I'm here, I'm always here for you. Can you promise me one thing, though?"

Glasz eyes, still shining with tears, were entranced by warm caramel ones, and Kurt was so overcome with love he could only ask, "What?"

"I want you to eat and not throw up. It would mean a lot to me. I know it's hard, believe me, I know, but I promise I'll be there if you need me. No matter what." Blaine hugged Kurt closer, and the younger boy latched onto him.

"I-I'll tr-try," Kurt choked out, and relaxed into Blaine's strong arms. It was like heaven, but he was still disgusted with himself. How could Blaine be so kind, so understanding. Kurt was a freak, starving and hurting himself on purpose.

"I need a promise, Kurt. Otherwise I won't be able to sleep. I've noticed how little you eat, and it really worries me. You're thin even without starving yourself. I shouldn't be able to see or feel your ribs, baby."

Kurt's heart fluttered, and he curled into Blaine's chest. "I promise, I'll eat and not throw up. If I do throw up, I'll call you." The last part wasn't asked of him, but he felt it would really help.

"And if you cut or want to cut, call me. If I can't come over, I'll talk you through it. I promise. Even if it's two in the morning."

Blaine was slightly disturbed by the fact that he could see almost all of Kurt's bones. He was almost ghost-like, and definitely not in the good, Harry Potter way. Kurt was so light, Blaine could easily have lifted him with one arm. He couldn't have weighed over 90 pounds. There was no way.

"Hey, Blaine? What's wrong?" Kurt looked up into those incredible eyes, which never seemed to be able to decide if they were caramel, gray, green, or blue.

"Of all the people to be asking that. I'm just worried about you. You're too amazing to lose." Kurt swore time stopped when he heard those words. For being frozen in time, his heart sure was beating fast. It was like he couldn't make up his mind between fast and slow.

"I-If I hadn't met you, I'd probably be dead," confessed Kurt. Then, out of sheer instinct, he reached up and pressed a kiss to Blaine's lips. They were sweet, but not so sweet it overpowered Blaine's slightly musky taste. If there was a heaven, this must be what it tasted like. Everything mixed so perfectly and Kurt never wanted to break away. But he had to if he wanted to breathe.

Neither boy could speak for a moment, but when they regained coherency, Blaine was the first to speak. "Tell you what. If you eat all your food, three meals a day, and don't cut at all, we can do that again."

A chance to kiss Blaine again was an offer Kurt would not refuse. "I promise, I will."

Blaine pulled him back into a hug, and Kurt melted into his arms. It was so warm and soft and strong and just so comforting. He almost felt normal.

Almost.