(A/N): Hello all! Back so soon? ;)

First things first. I got a beta! :D The wonderful HPkitty and I are now working together to make this story suck less! Hopefully, with her help, each chapter will be up to the standards of the last one—because apparently you all just loved that one. XD

Yeah, so the response was slightly overwhelming and definitely unexpected. But also not unwelcome. Thanks to all that read and alerted and favorited even more thanks to all who reviewed.

This chapter is short than the last one by like 1000 words… but it felt like a good place to stop and last chapter was a beast anyways. ;D

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. :( Dammit.

Chapter 10: Miracles in the Aftermath

-:-Kurt-:-

We were lying back on the bed, propped up by an overabundance of pillows and laughing. He turned towards me, blinding me with his bright smile. I turned on my side too, and we just stared. It wasn't awkward in the slightest; we knew each other so well, connected so deeply that words were hardly necessary anymore. We could share our feelings with a single glance. One look from those warm, twinkling eyes and my heart would melt, knowing he was thinking the same thing as I.

We sighed happily in unison. There was a beat of silence before we dissolved into giggles like teenage girls. The chuckles would peter off, almost dying out completely, before one of us would just start laughing again. It was an endless cycle of hilarity.

I curled a hand around my stomach as I just kept laughing. "Oww!" I said breathlessly. He only laughed harder and pulled me to his chest. "Ow…" I moaned again, my stomach protesting and begging for this outrageous laughing fit to come to an end.

"Aww, poor Kurtie!" He teased, holding me tightly and fighting off his own bubbles of laughter. I pouted, and a chortle burst past his lips.

Another five minutes or so went by, and we were breathing harshly, trying to get our breath back. "That was better than a workout," I announced, resting a hand against my abs as I breathed out slowly.

"I don't even remember what was so funny," He admitted as we settled back into our cuddle, more or less calm now.

I paused, searching my brain. "Me either," I admitted.

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, simply reveling in the warm presence of another. I traced random patterns into his chest, rested my head against his shoulder. "What color are your eyes?" I asked, peeking up through my lashes and meeting his gaze.

"I don't know. People have given me too many different answers. What color are yours?"

"I don't know either."

"That's not an answer," He teased.

"Neither was yours," I pointed out.

"Touché."

Another pause.

We burst out laughing at the same second, our tender muscles protesting at being used again after the latest ordeal. I squiggled around in his arms, to where I was facing him, and giggling as I ran my fingers through his hair. He smiled happily, laughter dissolving to chuckles. His eyes were crinkled in the corners and he just looked so cute that I couldn't help myself—I leaned forward and connected our lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

"Hey kids, enough of that now," the door opened to reveal my father, smiling and happy. I blushed but my smile never faded. Life was good, right here and now, and I didn't want to move quite yet.

My dad looked at us cuddled on the bed with a soft, sweet look in his eyes. An image popped into my head from when I was younger, how my dad would stare at my mom with a look like that. Happy. Content. Peaceful.

He looked down and clapped his hands once. "Sorry to break this up, but I need to borrow Kurt for a second."

Blaine pouted adorably, and I couldn't help but press another kiss against those lips. "I'll be right back." I sighed dramatically, getting up with the slightest shimmy in my hips, and smirking back at the glazed over expression of my boyfriend as I stepped out of the room.

"What did you need, Dad?" I asked as I bounced off the last stair.

He mumbled something I couldn't understand, looking around for a second with a quiet "Hold on…" before snapping his fingers. "Damn it. Kurt, I gotta go grab something from upstairs. I'll be right back, you wait here, okay?"

I nodded and padded lightly into the kitchen, spinning around and spreading my arms as I hummed a song for the newest routine we learned in dance. I leaped and twirled, humming mindlessly along as I halfheartedly followed the learned motions. I stumbled a bit when I heard a loud thud from upstairs.

I froze. "Dad?" I called, some scary feeling crawling up my throat. I made my way quickly to the staircase, ascending it with a bit more caution and apprehension.

I stood looking out into the hallway for a minute and flinched violently when I heard another loud thud, then two more in quick procession along with a weak groan. "B-B-B—" I tried to say, but the name wouldn't make it past my trembling lips.

I ran the last few feet down the hall, spinning around wildly before I located the source of the noise—my room.

I shoved the door open, tensing at the sight that awaited me.

He sat cowering on the floor against the wall, tears steaming down his rapidly swelling cheeks as my dad hissed evil words into his ear with a vindictive sneer, punctuating it with a swift kick to the chest.

His breathless cry of pain and fear is what broke me out of my shock. "Daddy, what are you doing?" I screeched shrilly, bounding forwards and fighting to get between the two. Burt only shoved me roughly away and grabbed Blaine by the shoulders, rattling him like a dog with a new toy.

Something niggled me deep in my chest, in the recesses of my mind, and tears pooled in my eyes. Something didn't feel right. This wasn't right. This wasn't right!

"Daddy, no!" I yelled, hating how childish it sounded through my tears. He flung the beautiful boy harshly aside, and the hard, wet smack of his head connecting with the edge of my desk resounded loudly in my ears. "No!"

Burt advanced towards me, coming closer and closer until I was backed up against the wall, shivering and cowering in the face of a man I thought I knew.

"Why are you doing this? I thought you loved me!" I yelled, shoving roughly on his chest. "I love him! And hurting him is hurting me, don't you care?"

He sneered. "You fucking fairies." My breath hitched, and that uncomfortable squirming in my mind and gut returned, tugging at something deep inside me that didn't quite connect. "You live this disgusting lifestyle—in my house—and you expect me to be okay with it?" he laughed harshly, shoving me pointedly in the chest.

"Yes!" I screamed. "You're… you're my dad, you're supposed to love me, and everything I am!"

With a look of revulsion, he threw me top the ground and turned away. "How can I love" he spat out the word like it was physically painful, "you when everything about you is wrong?"

I let out a sob, a sob that resonated deep in my chest, making me hunch over with the force of it. "I had to show you this, to teach you," he continued fervently. He walked closer to where my love, my life, my world lie motionless on the ground, a dark pool of crimson forming around his head.

"NO!" I yelled, running forward and trying in vain to pull him away.

"So I decided to do it in the one way I knew would work," he continued, kneeling down slowly to the floor. "This is what you deserve!" he yelled, his sudden force shocking me and causing tremors to wrack my frame. "This is what you will get if you choose this horrid way of living!"

A weak whimper sounded from the floor, and Burt rounded on him, immediately assaulting him with punches, kicks, and words.

Screaming, screaming, screaming! We were all screaming; my father words of hate, my love wordless sounds of agony, myself, one name, repeated helplessly over and over as I struggled to stop the assault, stop everything to get it back to the way it was, when we were all happy and in love.

I clawed at his back, his arms, anything to pull him away from the boy I loved. But he was too strong, much stronger than myself, and threw me off every time.

I never stopped screaming. None of us did. It was a symbolical symphony of everything bad and wrong in this world. And I could do nothing to stop it, nothing to stop the pain, the hate, the fear…

All I could do was scream his name.

"Blaine!"

"Kurt? Kurt, Kurt, come on, wake up! Kurt!"

I shot straight up in bed, fighting back tears and struggling to catch my breath. Shivers raised goose bumps through the cold sheen of sweat on my skin, and my eyes were squeezed shut as I hissed in breaths between clenched teeth. I fought back the images in my mind, fisting the blankets tightly in my hands and letting out a frustrated whimper.

"Kurt!" That voice called my name again. That sweet, sweet, honey-coated voice. I gasped in a sharp breath as something tugged at the corner of my mind. Something with a deep sense of foreboding. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, shaking my head, and holding back desperate noises. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to see my life crumble to bits right in front of my very eyes as I watched, helpless. I couldn't. A single, keening whine escaped me and panic swirled uncontrollably in my gut.

"Kurt, you're awake," the voice insisted gently, quietly, soothingly. "You're here, safe, with me. I won't hurt you," the voice was almost crooning. A warm, pleasant weight settled on my shoulder, feather light. It helped ground me, solidify some sort of reality, but it was still hard to fight through the heavy curtain of fog in my mind, covering every coherent thought I had.

"Shh, Kurtie. I'm here. Come here with me."

My breath hitched, and I fought to open my eyes against the fear and apprehension. They snapped open. "That's right. You're awake, and safe, see?" I struggled to focus, my eyes darting around frantically. I pushed down the rising panic in my stomach and blinked, hard. Once, twice, three times. My breathing was beginning to settle, my vision was clearing, slowly, like turning the knobs on a microscope.

The first thing I could make out was the blank, clean whiteness of the surrounding walls. I looked around a bit, seeing machines and uncomfortable looking plastic chairs and medical posters. "That's it," the voice spoke again.

I turned to it.

Blaine.

I let out a sob, a sob that resonated deep in my chest, making me hunch over with the force of it. "I had to show you this, to teach you," he continued fervently. He walked closer to where my love, my life, my world lie motionless on the ground, a dark pool of crimson forming around his head.

"Blaine!" I yell, seeing him in front of me, seemingly unharmed. Panic swirled in my brain and my stomach clenched. Blaine was hurt, and I'm only dreaming he's okay. I need to wake up fro this dream and help him! I lurch forward and grab his arm, ignoring the weak, muted protests of my own body. "Blaine, you're okay?" My hands run over his arms, across his face, carding through his hair. Tears stream down my face as my fingers run tenderly across the back of his skull, finding it unmarred and uninjured. "Are you? What's wrong, where are you hurt? Oh god, Blaine, I'm so—"

"Kurt!" He cut in, grabbing my hands and holding them tightly in his. He cupped my cheek and swiped at the tears with his thumb. "Lay down, you're going to hurt yourself more," I froze. What? No, I wasn't hurt, he was! He must have sensed my confusion, because he elaborated. "Kurt, you're in the hospital, remember?"'

I stiffened underneath his hands. My mind was pulling up thoughts and memories and trying to piece together what was real and what was not. Everything was confused and muddled.

I huffed out a breath and he looked down at me. Blaine gently pushed my shoulders back so I was lying back down. "Please. Don't hurt yourself anymore."

I looked up at him, completely bewildered. "What—What happened?"

His eyes widened, "you don't remember? Everyone's just said that you walked in here, gave your name, and collapsed. We've been waiting for you to wake up to ask you the same thing."

My eyebrows creased in thought and confusion. Blaine settled back into his chair, keeping a careful eye on me but obviously keeping his distance. He wouldn't push me; somehow he knew this was something that needed to come on its own.

So I dove into my thoughts picking out things that couldn't be true. Blaine wasn't hurt. I'm in the hospital .That makes that whole thing… a dream?

I was simultaneously relieved, immensely saddened, and struck by panic. Relieved, because Blaine was fine and I didn't have to worry that he was hurt, and it was all my fault. It wasn't yet another thing to add to my conscience. My father didn't choose to teach me a lesson—I shuddered harshly at the thought—using the person I needed and relied on the most. The person I was almost certain I loved, deep inside my heart.

Saddened, because if all of that was true, if I was right and it was all a dream… then Blaine didn't love me. We weren't dating; we weren't boyfriends happily in love and acting silly on a night together. Blaine didn't care for me. No one cared for me. Once again, I was alone and left to be so for eternity. That dream… I would give anything for it to be reality. Not that I already haven't done so. I'm doing everything in my power to reach that perfection; perfection that I now knew would come with even more benefits. This dream opened my eyes; that life it has shown me is my ultimate goal, and with that in mind, it will be achieved.

Panicked, because the dream, the worst parts of the dream, were brought to the forefront of my mind, and I was forced to relive them, slowly, piece by piece. I fought them, fought the trembles and the shudders and the desperate calls for help. I shoved it away, all of it, and classified it as 'Not Real'.

But with it, along with that dream brought tidbits of repressed fear, repressed memories. Flashes of phantom pain erupted across my body, eliciting a hardly-masked gasp with each one. Visuals soon accompanied it, pictures and images of my father, his once-kind face twisted into a derisive sneer, or distorted as he spit his hate into my face. Echoes of sound, taunting, haunting words came last, bouncing around the inside of my mind tortuously.

"You are going to fucking wish you were never born when I'm done with you!"

"You are nothing to me and never will be!"

"My life was perfect until you chose this disgusting lifestyle."

"If you were normal, if you were the son I've always wanted, she'd still fucking be alive!"

My eyes flew open and I let out a strangled whine before snapping my eyes closed once more and turning my head away. Blaine had jumped up, looking at me with such concern in his eyes, concern I didn't deserve, and I couldn't deal with that on top of this.

It was my dad.

My own father had finally done his part and landed me in the hospital. Every time he's yelled at me, glared at me, beaten me, neglected me… everything he's done wrong by me played through my mind like a slideshow. I tried to shut it out, shut it out before it became too much and I just lost it. I tried to reinforce those mental walls, but it wasn't working. His rage-filled words still bounced around my head, and with one, desperate shout, I clapped my hands to my head and ended it all, blocked it out.

I let out a breath.

Now I just had to figure out how to deal with this. I kept my eyes closed as I let tiny bits of calmness flood my system.

I wondered how I could get out of this. It's not like I could just say "Oh, yeah, my dad beat me. Ha, oopsie!" They couldn't know. No one could know. If they did, if they found out too soon, it would derail everything. They could take Burt away, or take me away, and any chance of repairing our strained relationship would be torn to bits.

When I reopened my eyes, it was to a room with not just Blaine, but a small team of doctors and nurses, all observing me with a disarmingly critical eye. My heart jumped, and I flinched involuntarily when one reached their hand out towards me.

They all took a step back, for which I was thankful. I took a few seconds to breath, waiting for someone to make a move, or do something. Finally, the doctor spoke up. "Hello, Kurt. I'm Dr. Loury. Would you mind telling us what you remember?"

My brain whirred, trying to come up with something plausible on the spot. Averting my eyes, I whispered, "I-I was m-mugged."

Blaine made a sound in the back of his throat; it was sort of a pitiful whimper mixed with a rage-filled growl. It made me want to giggle, strangely. It was an odd noise.

"Could you describe to us your attacker?"

I shook my head. "Dark." I mumbled. "It was too dark."

The doctor pushed on. "Can you remember anything, anything significant about him? A scar, a limp, a tattoo?" I shook my head again.

He sighed, but continued questioning me. "Where did this happen?"

I thought on my feet, picking a street name that was usually deserted. "D.W. Seaton, almost at the corner of John's Drive."

He scribbled some words onto his clipboard. "What did they do to you? Just tell us as much as you remember."

My breathing already began to speed up, both from nerves and the lingering panic that delving into my mind would bring. Luckily, Blaine came to my rescue. "Do you really need to know the specifics? He's already lived it once; don't make him live it again."

Another sigh. "Fine," The doctor relented. "We're just going to check your vitals, Mr. Hummel, and I'm going to schedule a quick CT scan to make sure there are no injuries to your brain, alright?" I nodded wordlessly.

They all left, one by one, and soon it was just Blaine and I alone in the cold, sterile room.

We met each others eyes, searching. Just looking. My heart fluttered pleasantly in my chest when I realized, Non-awkward. Just like the dream.

We sat in comfortable quiet once more. The constant, steady beeping of the heart monitor droned on in the background, and I could feel the pain medicine fading away with each movement.

Blaine cracked a smile small and moved his chair closer to the bed. Without breaking our gaze, he placed a hand gently on mine. My heart stuttered a beat, and it was made painfully obvious by the uneven, obnoxious beeping of the monitor. I blush crept its way up my cheeks.

Blaine's smile only widened and he chuckled, the sound sending butterflies aflutter in my stomach. I couldn't help the smile that crossed my lips either.

He squeezed my hand once as he looked down, gazing at our interlocked hands for a moment before he started to speak. "Kurt… You have no idea how worried I was."

I froze. He was worried? About me? Then something occurred to me. "H-How did you know I was here in the first place?"

It was Blaine's turn to blush, his cheeks darkening just the slightest, though his was accompanied with the tiniest of smiles. "They said you were asking for me when you were unconscious."

I felt my face heat up even more. Oh god, that's so embarrassing! "Wait…" I started, giving him a puzzled glance. "And you came? Just like that?"

"Of course," he said simply, that like that as the most obvious thing in the world. "I lo—y-you're my best friend. I really care about you, Kurt. A lot."

I didn't think I could blush anymore, but it sure felt like I did. My face must be the most unbecoming shade of red. But I shook my head. He shouldn't feel like this; I simply didn't deserve someone like him. Someone as perfect as him. All his love, all this caring should be directed somewhere more worthy. Not to me. I wanted to say all that. To tell him, make sure none o0f this valuable resource was wasted. But all that came out was "You haven't even known me that long, Blaine. Not long enough to care that much."

Blaine blushed and got this adorably flustered look on his face. He gripped my hand in both of his. "I know." He barked out a laugh. "I know that. And I can't explain it but Kurt you freaking matter to me more than I ever thought you would. You just sort of weaseled your way into my life and—and well, you made it so much… more. I wouldn't have it any other way."

My heart skipped a beat, and then kicked it up a notch, speeding up just the smallest amount. What was he saying? Where was this going? What did he mean? He couldn't actually mean what I think he means, because that's not possible. He can't actually mean that he—

"And I don't know why you mean so much to me," Blaine cut me off. "I mean, I don't mind at all, in fact I kind of enjoy it, but at the same time it's confusing as hell. It's so, so nice to have someone who get's me the way you do and just be there to talk to and be myself with. It's the best thing ever."

I didn't even know if Blaine was aware of what he was saying anymore. His mouth seemed to be on autopilot, just spilling out whatever thought he was having at that moment. His eyebrows were still creased and he just looked so cute. My heart fluttered in time with the crazed insects in my stomach. "You're getting at something, Blaine. What are you getting at?" I said carefully, enjoying his cute little ramble but knowing there had to be a point.

"I love having you around and I love being around you," he admitted slowly, almost reluctantly. He seemed to be grabbing words and thoughts from his brain and haphazardly assembling them into coherent sentences to express what he had to say. After the initial sentence, though, the rest just spilled out. He held my hand tighter and looked deep into my eyes. "I love the way you smile and how it lights up your entire face, so it glows and you just look so beautiful." A shy smile graced my lips almost without me knowing. Blaine chuckled exasperatedly. "Yes, like that. And it just… takes my breath away sometimes."

My breath caught, almost delicately, in my throat. I could hardly believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. They couldn't be true; they couldn't, no matter how much I wanted them to.

Blaine just continued in a rush. "I love your hair and how it's always so perfectly styled. I love your eyes, and how they're that color that I can't describe and you won't tell me, and the way they sort of sparkle in the right light and how they twinkle when you get passionate about something," I blushed. "I love how you blush so damned easily, and it just makes you look so adorable I can hardly help myself. I love watching you dance, because you look so free and lithe and graceful and… and majestic and hot because you're all muscle and…"

My heart literally stopped for a second. Blaine thought I was hot? He thought… that about me, when I look as horrible and un-perfect as I do? As much as I wanted to stop him, make him see how wrong he was, something stirred deep in my gut and I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him.

"God, Kurt. I love your laugh because it sounds like music, I love your voice because it is music and… and I-I love how sarcastic you are, and how you can cut people to shreds with just your words, a-and how you're basically a ninja and so charming and sweet and…" Blaine swallowed, and my eyes flitted to his lips, watching as they formed the next few words. "God damn it, Kurt, I love you!"

My jaw dropped when he said that, and all the air left my lungs at once. I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe it; it wasn't possible. Someone like him, someone filled with so much love and life and happiness couldn't love someone like me who hasn't truly known love for too many years, someone who has been so deprived of any sort of affection and doesn't have any clue about how to show it towards another person.

"You can't," I whispered.

Blaine was breathing hard, and clenched my hand even harder between both of his. "W-What?"

"You can't do that. I'm not worth it," I whispered, trying to hold back tears. It hurt to say that. It hurt so much. I wanted to be worth it. I wanted to be something to Blaine. I wanted Blaine so much it hurt. I don't think I've wanted anything more than I wanted him, but I couldn't in good conscience drag him down to my level, hold him back from all the greatness he could achieve. With someone else.

"Kurt, you're more than worth it! You deserve s-someone to love you more than anyone," Blaine insisted, gently wiping away the tears that escaped from behind my closed eyelids.

And I wanted to believe him, to just give in and fall into his arms and let myself be happy for once. But I couldn't. "You are worth more than I could ever be," I said, hating the way my voice quivered with restraint. "You deserve more than someone so… someone like me."

"Kurt, I love you," Blaine said bluntly, yet softly. It was so contradicting yet so endearing and sincere. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me… it just melted my heart.

"You don't understand," I argued.

"No, Kurt. You don't understand," He said, his voice filled with a strength and certainty I didn't know he possessed. "You don't see you the way I do. I care if… if you're broken or hurting or have some baggage. Everybody does! Now you just have me to help you deal with it all. Through it all, Kurt."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe and my stomach was all fluttery and my hands were shaking and all this put together should feel like shit but it didn't, because I was reveling in every moment of it. Blaine just had this way of speaking that drew me in and made me want to believe every word that came out of his mouth, plausible or not. And I already desperately wanted to believe him.

But he wasn't done. **"Kurt, there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'Oh! There you are… I've been looking for you forever," Blaine took a deep breath, "and I can't specify exactly which moment it was for me, Kurt, because every single moment we've spent together has felt like that. Kurt, no one makes me feel… as right as I do with you."

I hardly had time to process those words, because Blaine was slowly leaning towards me, his eyes alight with hope but also caution. His hand snaked around to softly cup my cheek, stroking tenderly with his thumb. He gave me the time to stop him, to push him away… and I knew I should. I knew I should but…

But I couldn't.

Blaine hesitated when he was right in front of me, close enough that I could count the different shades in his eyes. Our hot breaths mingled in the small space between our lips. He was so close. So close, that if I spoke, our lips would brush.

"I… I love you, too," I whispered, closing the minuscule distance between us and pressing our lips together in a sweet, slow kiss.

The heart monitor's beeping, which had gotten increasingly faster as Blaine's speech went on, stopped completely and droned a single, flat note.

Blaine pulled away, cracking a small smile and a giggle. I blushed to the roots of my hair, but couldn't fight off a shy smile of my own.

He ran his hand through my hair slowly, whispering, "Do you believe me now?"

I tentatively placed my shaking hand on top of his, the one that had returned to my cheek. "I want to," I breathed.

"Well," Blaine said, voice soft, as he leaned forward again, "I guess I have some more convincing to do."

(A/N): QUESTION: Who else screamed FINALLY? XD

UGH it's about freaking time, am I right? I could not WAIT for this chapter, so that's why it typed itself in two sittings, one day. (1AM writing FTW!)

I hope you enjoyed it and the lovely progress our boys have made. But how will this change Kurt's mind? How will Kurt face his dad again? And what about dance? You'll have to wait and find out. ;)

…But not for like a week. I'm going on vacation. Sorry? :( At least I posted this though!

~DFTBA and Best Wishes!