23

Dimmed

Kurt retched into the toilet again, gripping the edge of the bowl, coughing, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. Blaine shushed him softly, gently rubbing his back, repeating over and over again that it was alright. Kurt trembled hard, gasping, choking and leaning back into him to be sure he was there.

"I've got you," Blaine whispered. "I'm right here. It's okay. You sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm just scared," he breathed. "I'll be okay."

"Hey," he said softly, kissing his cheek. "You don't have to pretend for my sake. If you're upset, you're upset. You have every right to be, baby. It's okay."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," he trembled, voice breaking, tears coming again. The sight made his chest ache. He held him, gingerly at first, waiting for him to pull away if he didn't want the contact. He leaned back into him, taking huge gulps of air, shaking so hard. "Don't make me go, please."

"I won't. I won't. They said you were alright, but you need to calm down, okay? If you don't calm down I'm gonna have to take you to the emergency room. Just breathe. Just breathe…" He whispered, rocking him, arms protectively wrapped around his chest. "Breathe with me, Kurt. In...out…in…out, there you go. Easy. In…out…" The blind boy obliged, steadying his pulse and his body, the tremors fading just a little. "What do you need, baby?" He asked, his own voice strained. "Just tell me what you need."

"D-Dad thinks I sh-should talk to Ms. Pillsbury, but-but I can't! I can't talk to anyone! Th-there's nothing to talk about!" He trembled, gasping again. "They saw what happened, they know what happened, why do I have to say it?" He sobbed aloud, trying not to scream, to shriek the agony he was in.

"Shh, shh, hey, it's alright. It's okay. Don't get worked up again, baby," he soothed. "What can I do?"

"I-I don't know!" He moaned, whimpering, sobbing softly. "Just don't leave me alone. Don't leave me in the dark, Blaine."

"I'm not gonna leave you, baby. I'm right here. Right here. It's okay. I love you," he whispered. "And I'm right here." Tears slipped down Blaine's cheeks, gently stroking his hair. He waited for Kurt's breathing to quiet before slowly helping him up, hushing him gently. "Shh, shh, it's alright. Come here, come here. It's alright, Kurt. Shh, I'm here. I'm here. I've got you. Come here."

Kurt stood, body never turning from Blaine's warmth, panicking just a little whenever he was too far away, holding himself. He trembled, knees weak, wishing he could stop crying and be brave. He smiled graciously when Blaine pushed his toothbrush into his hand, gently kissing his temple and stepping to the cabinet, retrieving a washcloth while Kurt got the ungodly taste of bile out of his mouth. Five minutes later he was finally satisfied, rinsing his mouth and taking a shaky breath. He gasped quietly when Blaine pressed the warm rag to his cheek, wiping away tears and attempting to soothe the swell in his face.

"You know that only works with cold water," he croaked.

Blaine smiled. "I didn't want you to be cold." Kurt sniffed, holding onto Blaine's shoulder, shaky.

"I-I need to take a shower," he whispered, still nervous.

"Do you want me with you?" He said gently.

"I don't know," he gulped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just, I don't-"

"Shh, okay, okay," he said, holding his shoulders. "I can go get you clothes, your towel and your robe and fix you something to eat, okay?" He nodded, sniffling. "You just yell if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," he breathed, hesitating letting him go. "Just a minute. I-I don't want to let go yet," he breathed.

"It's okay. It's perfectly okay, baby."

It took ten minutes of Kurt resting his cheek against Blaine's shoulder, his arms wrapped and clinging to his back too tight but Blaine wasn't about to move. He smoothed his hair and shushed him quietly, swaying with him. They stood in silence, Kurt trying to brace himself, Blaine waiting and willing to do so for the rest of his life.

"Okay," he finally breathed, releasing him. "Okay."

Blaine kissed his hand before letting him go, chest aching. "Remember, just yell if you need me."

"Okay," he nodded, breath trembling.

Blaine left with the door halfway open, his ears perked to any noise just in case Kurt needed him.

He went to his room, making his bed and taking out the most comfortable clothes he could find. He came back into the bathroom, setting out his towels and his robe, clothes on the counter beside his lotion. "Kurt?" He said gently, watching his silhouette jump a little behind the curtain. "Sorry, sorry, baby. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured, eased by his presence again. "I'm alright, Blaine."

"Okay, I'm going downstairs, alright? I'll be up in just a minute," he assured.

"Okay."

Kurt listened to him leave, setting back to washing his hair. He felt the water work through the knots and aches in his body, taking away a few layers of the filth he'd felt since that moment. He swallowed, crying still, wishing he could go back to this morning. He didn't feel so used then. He didn't feel like he'd been soiled and Blaine shouldn't touch him anymore. He didn't relive awful touches every time his shirt touched his skin. The bruises and scratches weren't there either. He sniffed, so scared.

He knew David could be dangerous, he knew the constant shoving and tossing into dumpsters would climax at some point. But…but the result had always been different in hindsight. He'd thought he'd be in the hospital from receiving the beating of a lifetime, not being touched and groped and-

He gave a quiet sob, shuddering aloud and snatching up his body soap. He scrubbed the loofa into his skin a little too hard, hurting himself. If not for Blaine being so close he might've taken away skin and stepped out of here raw and stinging. But it might get rid of that feeling.

He shut off the water, forcing himself to, and stepped out, drying quickly, hating being naked in the open air. He shivered, for reasons other than the cold, feeling for his underwear.

"Here baby," Blaine said, stepping into the room and offering them to him. Kurt nodded his thanks, hesitating to take his towel off. "I'll turn around, okay?" He offered, spinning on the spot. Kurt reached out to touch his back, just to be sure before slipping them over his waist.

"You can turn around now," he assured.

Blaine was sure he'd never get over how beautiful Kurt was. How smooth and soft his skin looked, how elegant each line of his body flowed together, and the always present innocence in his gorgeous eyes was always breathtaking. No, he'd never, ever get over this beautiful boy.

The bruises and cuts on that precious skin ignited such fury in him, that same blind, red rage that made him scream, shriek and rip the boy that had done this to him apart. He walked to him, gently kissing a deep scratch on his neck, tears welling in his eyes again.

"Don't," he whimpered, bowing his head and shrinking away. "Don't do that, Blaine. Please."

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he said, taking a step back. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I need to get dressed," he whispered, so vulnerable and small like this. He snatched up his robe, knowing the guilt he was forcing on Blaine by doing so. "I-it's not that I don't want- that I don't trust you-"

"Shh," he soothed, taking his hand. "I understand, baby. It's okay." He gave a soft squeeze before letting him go, handing him the rest of his clothes, keeping his head turned to allow him privacy.

Kurt sighed, wrapped in layers, warm again. He attempted to moisturize his face and his hands, trembling, tears welling again as he tried, Blaine standing quietly and waiting.

"Shh…" Blaine whispered, carefully pulling him from his chair and bringing him up into his arms. "Come here, come here, baby. It's okay."

He guided him into his room, a reassuring hand on his shoulders, sitting him on his bed. He gently handed him a bowl of leftover soup they'd had yesterday, kissing his forehead again.

He went around, picking up his clothes and plopping them in the hamper, putting his shoes away, trying to do anything and everything he could to make things easier. And damn it, he had to keep his hands busy or he'd go insane. He'd scream and yell and break things. He'd scare Kurt, make him worry and probably make him cry if he behaved that way. He'd cried enough. He'd been hurt enough.

He wanted to call Burt and see if that fuckin' bastard that did this was dead yet, or what the fuck was going on to begin with. Just to know that some justice was being given to what he'd done.

Kurt set the bowl down, sniffling, graciously accepting the cup of tea Blaine gave him, sipping slowly, the warm liquid soothing his throat and settling his stomach.

"Feeling any better?" He whispered, cupping his cheek. He swallowed the lump in his throat again, still shaky.

"No," he admitted. "I just…I'm tired."

"Go ahead and sleep, baby," he urged. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, desperate for his embrace that made him feel so safe. Secure.

"Stay with me," he pleaded quietly, begging. Scared.

"Of course. Whatever you need," he swore, cradling him. He got him into the blankets. Kurt squeezed as close to him as he could, nuzzling into his neck, trying to surround himself in him to drown out the pain. Blaine tilted his chin, attempting to kiss him. Kurt turned away, shaking his head.

"I can't. Not right now, please. I'm sorry."

"Shh, hey," he rested his cheek beside his, allowing him to see his expression while he spoke. "Kurt, this is your body. That's your mouth and your voice, not mine. I'm not entitled to anything, whether I'm your boyfriend or not."

"Still-"

"Shh, no. Just sleep, baby."

"Wasn't there something you needed to tell me?" He breathed, changing the subject. Blaine shook his head.

"It's not important. It can wait," he assured. Kurt shook his head.

"Tell me. I-I want to think about something else anyway," he gulped. Blaine looked down at him, watching his face, so weary and void, the glow in his skin gone. His chest clenched in it's already painful vice.

"I talked to Cooper," he offered, keeping his tone light, smile fake. "We fixed things."

"That's great," he said shakily, a real smile beamed his way.

"He…he said he bought a house here in Lima and…and he wants to adopt me so my parents can't try anything if my dad gets out," he said, smiling softly. Kurt squeezed him, still giving that genuine, precious smile through his own pain.

"That's wonderful," he said, resting against his chest.

"It's not important right now," he said gently, stroking his hair back. "You getting some sleep is important, okay? You rest. I'm right here and I'm gonna hold you, okay? I've got you." Kurt shut his eyes, still clinging to him, scared. "Shh…"

They lied in silence for some time, Kurt's breathing not getting any easier, tears leaking down his cheeks, still so afraid. Blaine kissed his forehead again, resting there. Kurt sniffled, nuzzling his face into Blaine's shirt, trying to focus on sleep, immersing himself in Blaine's arms, so afraid.

Blaine swallowed, shushing him softly, knowing what would soothe him. "And if you have a minute why don't we go, talk about it, somewhere only we know…" Kurt sighed, finally relaxing, letting Blaine's smooth voice fill his ears and find its way to his heart, still cradling him more gently than he'd ever touched anything in his life. "So why don't we go, somewhere only we know?"