16

Look Harder

Three weeks later...

"I got it, Kurt, I'm okay," Blaine assured, holding his side and limping up the stairs with Kurt beside him. "Be careful, Kurt. I could trip you."

"I'll be okay. Are you alright?"

"Jus...just need to lay down soon," he said, trying to smile and keep his tone light.

"You're almost there. Six stairs left, baby," he said encouragingly, a soothing hand on his back.

"And then I'm gonna sleep," he breathed, sighing. "I'm gonna sleep for a week...which is really pathetic."

"It's alright," Kurt assured. "Last night it was the yard, today it's the stairs." Blaine's breath hitched, stopping again to hang onto the rail. "Shh, take it slow, take it slow."

"What about tomorrow?" He asked, wiping sweat from his brow. "What happens tomorrow?" Kurt gently kissed his cheek.

"You rest. Wednesday through Friday you have physical therapy for your ribs. But tomorrow and the rest of today you rest, alright?" He said, smiling, offering as much hope for him as he could. Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt's, smiling back.

"Nobody else could make me smile right now," he admitted, kissing the tip of his nose. "Six more?"

"Six more."

Blaine didn't scream in his sleep. He gave no warning at all that he was having a nightmare, not until he woke. He opened his eyes and God, how he gasped, tears streaming down his face. No sobs, not anymore, just tears and desperate reaches for Kurt with trembling hands and a soft, nearly silent, "please."

Kurt would take him in his arms, shush him and hold him without having to say much. Not unless he had that other tiny whisper asking, "sing to me?"

And he would. Whatever he needed he would do it. No matter what. He pulled his head into his lap, ran his fingers through his curls and let him shake, let him be weak and afraid in front of him, hidden away where no one else could see. Somewhere safe.

He'd been so awful these past few weeks, jumping at the sound of swings and glasses clinking together.

Once, during these first few weeks of being out of the hospital he was sitting on couch across from Burt, watching a basketball game while Kurt was at school he yelled at the screen, cursing a player for a foul in the last close seconds. Blaine jumped, hurting himself, fear and tears sparking in his eyes so quickly it was dizzying. He curled into himself, shuddering, so quiet that it took Burt a moment to notice what had happened.

"Blaine? Hey, what's wrong?" He moved closer to him, frowning when he whimpered quietly. "What did...?" His eyes grew, realizing. "No, no, no, hey. Look at me, please, look at me," he begged, carefully touching his shoulder. "Blaine, I'm not mad at you. That wasn't...I wasn't thinking, okay? I'm not mad at you, it's okay."

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered, still so lost in his own mind. "I-I'll try not to upset you again-"

"No, no, no," Burt said, gently cupping his neck."Blaine, listen, it's alright. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. Don't apologize. I'm sorry for scaring you. It's okay. It's okay." Blaine still looked at him, still trembling, still so afraid. Burt shook his head. "Come here," he said as gently and carefully as he could, slowly pulling him into a hug, holding him. The boy gasped, shuddering as if he'd been doused in cold water.

"Shh...Shh, it's okay. Shh...it's alright. I've got you." Blaine started to cry, unable to stop himself.

"I'm sorry I'm afraid of you," he whispered. "I know I shouldn't be, but-"

"It's alright. I just don't want you to be scared anymore," he gulped. Burt rocked him, holding the back of his head. Just a little boy. Such a scared, wounded little boy that needed something so simple. Compassion. Patience. Just love. Just a little. Something he'd never had before.

"You don't have to be, I promise," he nodded. "You don't have to be scared anymore. I've got you. Me, Kurt, Carole, Finn, we're not gonna send you away or let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

"Thank you. You...you don't have to do that," he whimpered. "You don't owe me anything."

Burt looked at him, smiling softly. "Blaine, you made my son happy. You brought him out of the dark and got him to smile. I owe you my son's life. The least I could do is protect yours. You're just a kid..."

He held him for awhile longer, waiting until he was alright before going back to watching the game, joking with him, watching his eyes light up behind the bruises and the bandages.

And Kurt...

Was perfect. Imperfectly perfect as usual. Talking about his day, asking Blaine which outfit looked best, dancing with him in his room to the new, or old, Lady Gaga song. Gently, of course. There was only so much his ribs could take. They sang together for fun, finding harmonies while Kurt cooed away about how lovely it would be to sing with him in glee club. He'd win the next duet competition for sure. And Blaine smiled. He held his hand, kissed his cheeks and spiraled further and further into the crevice that had no end called love. Loving him. Loving every single molecule of that sweet boy's soul.

"Would you want to transfer schools?" Kurt asked one night, lying beside him when he should be in his own room down the hall. "With me?"

"I thought your friends didn't like me," he chortled, his nose healed, most of the bruises faded brown or yellow, burns that weren't going to scar. Not when Kurt had the regiment to totally take care of that. The same went for the cuts his father inflicted.

"Too bad if they don't," Kurt snapped, touching his face. "I want you to be with me, and I want you to be safe. McKinley might be your best choice for that."

"You want me to come with you, right?" He asked, smiling softly.

"I want you near me every second of every day," he breathed, kissing him.

"Then I'll go," he said sleepily. "Follow you to the ends of the earth..."

Kurt smiled, equally as tired. "Why would you do something that silly?"

"Because I love you."

A sloppy, lazy kiss on waiting lips. "I love you too."

"Ooh, if that's what I get I'll start tomorrow," he smirked, kissing again, dirtier this time, sliding his piercing on the underside of his tongue, smiling when he shivered. Kurt blushed, pulling away and gasping.

"Tomorrow will work," he whispered, grinning. "Now go to sleep."

"You should be in your room."

"I'll just tell Dad I got lost," he giggled. Blaine rolled his eyes. "Wake me up if you have a nightmare." They snuggled close together, warm and content.

"You sure we won't get in trouble?"

"Since when is Blaine Anderson afraid of a little trouble?" He teased. Blaine grinned.

"Trouble's my middle name, baby."

"Now just look into the camera and tell us everything. You won't have to appear in court, just give your testimony right here." The woman in front of him was kind in a stern sort of way, her eyes blank with a small smile on her wrinkled lips.

Carole had asked him if he wanted her in there, being the only person there with Burt at the shop and Kurt and Finn at school, for both legal purposes and she didn't want to leave him all alone. She couldn't do that to him. He looked at her now, fear in his eyes and a lump in his throat. This stuffy room with this woman that didn't care. No one could care when they were paid to do it. She smiled gently at him, squeezing his hand with both of hers holding his.

"Take your time sweetie. It'll be okay."

He took a deep breath, feeling constrained, confined, scared. Terrified of that blinking light.

What if he gets out? What if he comes after me and hurts me? What if he kills me? What if he doesn't go to jail at all?

He won't unless you tell them what he did.

I'm so scared.

The weight and warmth of Carole's hands pulled through his thoughts, her gentle squeeze and soft smile. She cared. This little woman had so much care and compassion in her it was overwhelming. "It's okay," she smiled.

He took a breath, stared right into the camera as if it were the face of his father, and spoke.

Tears tapped onto his hand when it was through, shaking a little, knuckles ghost-white. "Then Kurt found me and took me to the hospital," he breathed, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson," the woman said, turning off the camera. "He'll be going away for a long time, don't worry."

She stood, leaving with it.

Blaine hadn't moved, staring at the floor, shaking.

"Blaine," Carole said softly, her free hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, eyes wide and wounded, looking defeated. "Come here, sweetie, it's okay." She pulled him into a hug.

"You were so brave, honey. You did the right thing, it's okay. It's okay. I'm really proud of you," she smiled, looking at him steadily.

"You are?" He asked, voice cracking.

"Absolutely I am," she said, smile growing.

"No one's ever told me that before," he said quietly. She hugged him again, patting his back.

"Well they should," she said. "There's a lot to be proud of, Blaine."

He buried his face in her shoulder, hanging on to her. "You wouldn't have let him hurt me, would you?"

"Not for a second," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I wouldn't have let him get near you."

"Ev-even if he would've hurt you too?" He asked, unable to stop himself from asking, feeling awkward for doing so.

"Absolutely I would," she said, eyes closed.

"Why isn't my mom like normal ones?" He breathed. She squeezed tighter.

"It's okay, it's okay..."