November went by at an...acceptable pace.
Most of the time. A lot of times, their days would go completely normal: Kurt came home late, so that even with his commute, Blaine was there an hour or so before him and had cleaned up and started on making dinner by the time Kurt arrived. After dinner, they watched a movie or read, cuddled up on the couch, or sometimes one of them had to finish some work. Then Blaine made sure they got to bed at a reasonable time. Sometimes they had sex.

Kurt was...maybe a little more taciturn than usual. More withdrawn, more cautious not to reveal too much of himself. But on the days when he actually let Blaine be there for him, Blaine was okay with that, because he could feel that despite everything, his presence made a difference. Even just keeping Kurt company and making sure he ate and slept was helping him not to feel alone.

Most noticeable for him was what was lacking. Blaine had expected that; he knew that Kurt felt out of control of his own life and had no capacity to take control of other things. He always called Kurt 'sir', and he liked serving him, but otherwise it was good he was able to function without being Dominated. Even though he especially enjoyed the moments when Kurt's hand found its way into Blaine's hair when they cuddled in front of the TV.

Then there were the bad days. The days when Kurt stayed at work so late that Blaine had eaten hours before and warmed up something for Kurt, who reluctantly ate some of it and then went straight to bed. The days when he would snap at Blaine for nothing and then apologized, his eyes saying that he wondered why Blaine was even still here. Or, somehow the worst, when Kurt came home and everything seemed normal, but Blaine would feel that Kurt only pretended, making mechanical conversation over dinner, and then sat down on the couch with him but Blaine knew he wasn't really there.

There had been a few bad days in a row and Blaine was feeling tired and irritable. He had overslept; only ten minutes, but it was enough to make him almost half an hour late for work because he got into an especially bad patch of traffic.

Then, at lunch, Tina bugged him again to think about if Kurt really was the right man for him, and he wasn't able to give her the impression that everything was fine when really it wasn't – not for the reason she thought, but still. In the end, he told her more directly than his usual way that Kurt had a hard time at the moment, and to please leave them alone. Although he apologized almost immediately for his brusque tone, he could see she was hurt, which in turn made him feel guilty.

Then, when he was finally about to leave, a few helicopter moms came to him to complain about how he wasn't grading their little darlings justly, and he overheard a new father asking other parents if they thought it okay to have a "homosexual" teach their children.

When he finally arrived home, he felt like he had done nothing right for weeks.

Kurt was home and had even brought groceries, but Blaine could see that he was in no state to offer a shoulder to cry on today. He was sitting at the kitchen table, vegetables in front of him as if he had wanted to cut them and then forgotten, and stared into space. He barely reacted when Blaine kissed him on the cheek, but when Blaine sat down on the other side of the table and pulled the knife, cutting board and veggies across, he protested.

"I'm doing that," he said, sounding offended.

"I can do it," Blaine answered, "It's no problem."

But Kurt insisted. "I'm doing it, Blaine."

In hindsight, there were two reasons why Blaine didn't relent. One was, he was really, really hungry by now and didn't trust Kurt to get it done in a timely manner. The other – well, it had been a week from hell. Maybe something had to give.

He was aware that he sounded less than polite as he answered, "No, really. You should let me do it."

Kurt looked up sharply, but his tone was cool and calm. "I didn't ask you to be here. If you can't accept how I do things, maybe you should just leave."

"Maybe I should." Blaine agreed, and though he hardly knew what he was doing, much less why, he rose. He had enough presence of mind to grab his keys and wallet, and then he was out on the street, and then he opened the door to his own apartment and still didn't know what exactly had happened.

…...

It took a few moments for Kurt to realize what had just happened. He hadn't really registered anything, only that Blaine had come home and now he was gone again, and somehow, it was his fault. For some reason, his mind was today shrouded in a cloud of misery so thick almost nothing got through to him. Everything seemed to remind him of either his dad or Finn, and not the good memories, but those of their premature, senseless deaths. At work, he had to go to the bathroom twice to press his hands against his eyes and wash his face with cold water to stave off the tears, and the whole day, he had felt guilty in apprehension of what Blaine would have to go through tonight.

But he hadn't apprehended this.

He left me, he thought. Blaine left me.

Of course he did, a nasty voice in his head said. Just like everyone else.

Just like his mom, and Finn, and his dad, and Chandler.

But this was something he could fix. It had just been a misunderstanding, a result of a week that consisted of one bad day after another. They could get through this.

He had never wanted to hurt Blaine. He had known he would at some point, and this was hardly the first time, but to hurt him so bad that he would leave when he had promised not to...

He didn't even know what exactly he had done, but he felt as guilty as he rarely had before.

He needed help.

He needed...he needed...

In Elliot's office he awkwardly dropped to his knees.

"I need you to punish me."

Elliot, who had looked up from his desk when the door opened, didn't bat an eye at seeing another Dom on his knees before him. He looked at him for a moment, while Kurt shifted in the unfamiliar position and squirmed under his friend's steady gaze.

Finally, Elliot said,"Stand up."

When Kurt was seated opposite him at the desk, looking more comfortable but still miserable, he asked,

"What happened?"

Kurt buried his face in his hands. "I fucked up royally," he said, the words muffled by his hands until he took them away. "Somehow – I don't know what I did, or said, exactly, but – Blaine left me."

He had never admired Elliot's ability of staying level-headed about almost everything more than in this moment.

"Did he really leave you? Or did he just decide he needed to be away from you for a few hours and went home?"

"I-I don't know."

He must have sounded as miserable as he felt, for Elliot came around the desk and hugged him, and then led him to the small table and chairs in the corner of the room.

"I'm so scared, Elliot," he confessed. "I was so wrapped up in myself the last few weeks, and I knew this might happen, but...but I honestly didn't think it would be so bad. I should have just stayed away from Blaine as much as possible this month, I shouldn't have -"

"Yes, you should," Elliot interrupted. "I really don't think it's as bad as you think. Two years ago, Chandler used to come to me when you were at work and cried and raged about you. Last year was better, and I know that Blaine didn't come to Chandler or to me this time. I think he just needed a few hours on his own."

"I hope you're right. But please, Elliot, won't you punish me? I feel so bad, I can't believe I hurt him so much..."

"I won't punish you. It wouldn't help. Go to Blaine, talk to him, make up. If you still feel bad after, come back. Then I'll punish you."

Elliot pushed his chair closer to Kurt and took his hands. "One other thing. I know you're hurting, Kurt, and I know you think that everyone is going to leave you, like your parents and Finn. But they didn't leave you because they wanted to. They died, Kurt, and that wasn't your fault."

Kurt wanted to say something; of course he knew that, rationally. But he also knew that Elliot knew, and anyway, he ignored Kurt's attempts to interrupt him completely.

"Chandler – now you might argue that he did, indeed, leave you. But he didn't, not really. He's still here for you, he still loves you. I am here for you. And Blaine is, too."

Kurt had given up trying not to cry. He let the tears fall freely while he listened to Elliot, and it felt liberating.

"It's almost the end of November," Elliot continued. "It'll be better soon. And you can do a lot to help it get better. As Doms, we are given so much. Our subs give us so much trust, so much devotion. A little self-control is a small price to pay."

Kurt left soon after, but there was no way around some small talk with the Defiance patrons, of which there were quite a lot on a Friday night. So it was close to midnight when he finally got to Blaine's place, feeling better for Elliot's advice, but worse for all the time he had already lost when all he wanted was to make up with Blaine as soon as possible.

It was a little weird, he thought as he made his way up the stairs, the elevator being broken once again. He felt better now than he had all day before. The scare of losing Blaine had as good as obliterated everything else that had weighed on his mind today, and now that he had hope, a purpose...he ran up the stairs until he had to stop outside Blaine's door to catch his breath.

When he finally opened the door with the spare key, the room behind was dark, only lightened by the flickering of the television that was so quiet it could just as well have been muted. Blaine lay on the couch, fast asleep. He looked peaceful, but as Kurt stepped closer, he could see the traces of tears on his cheeks. He longed to wake him and talk to him at once, but he knew that Blaine was in need of sleep, having risen early every day to make his commute to school, and staying up late to care for Kurt. So he went to get a throw blanket from the bedroom, covered Blaine with it, and then cautiously lifted his head and sat down on the couch, laying Blaine's head down on his lap.

It felt strange to do so when Blaine was probably still angry with him, but he needed some kind of physical contact if he was to bring up the patience to wait, possibly until morning. He took comfort in the way Blaine nuzzled his cheek into his thigh in his sleep, and sighed. Once again he had managed to screw things up with Blaine, and once again, he depended on Blaine's love to forgive him. He smiled wryly as he thought that this was a pattern that would probably repeat itself until the inevitable moment that Blaine would finally lose his patience.

He toed off his shoes, turned off the TV, leaned back and closed his eyes.

And he waited.