A/N: This one is a lot of angsty fluff. I'd love to hear what you think... reviews mean a lot to me!

Nightmare

Blaine's hands were being held behind his back in a bone-crushing grip. He struggled ferociously to free himself, but he simply wasn't strong enough. He watched helplessly as the hulking boy in front of him brought his fist smashing to his face, then his stomach, shouting venomous insults all the while. Tears were streaming down Blaine's face and he was thrashing violently, but he just couldn't get away...

"BLAINE!"

Blaine awoke with a start. He sat bolt upright in bed and looked around frantically, still unsure of where he was and what was going on. As he took in the familiar layout of the dark bedroom around him, his eyes finally settled on Kurt, propped on one elbow beside him, an expression of deep concern on his moonlit face.

"My God Blaine, what's wrong? You're shaking like a leaf," Kurt said worriedly, reaching out to wipe the tears from Blaine's cheek. Blaine flinched away from him without even meaning to, images from the dream still fresh in his mind. Kurt's eyebrows furrowed - Blaine was a very physical person, and generally he loved being touched. "Hey, calm down, it's just me," Kurt said soothingly, keeping his hands to himself this time.

"Sorry," Blaine said, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, heart still pounding in his chest.

"It's okay. Were you having a nightmare?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine nodded. His eyes were still flicking nervously around the room, as if he were expecting someone to suddenly spring out from his closet and start attacking him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I..." He didn't, really, but he also wondered if finally talking to someone about it, especially if that someone was Kurt, might help. The truth was he'd been having the same dream every night since Kurt had invited him to prom. And it wasn't a dream, actually, so much as a memory. A flashback to the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance, when he and his friend Matt had gotten the shit beaten out of them by three guys from the football team.

"You don't have to. I'd understand."

"No. It's okay. I just - I've been dreaming about the night I got beaten up. At the Sadie Hawkins dance," he mumbled, feeling suddenly ashamed. He hated to seem weak or vulnerable in front of Kurt, especially since he was the one who was always going on about courage and standing up to bullies. But Kurt was watching him intently, his expression sincere and completely devoid of judgment.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt said softly. "I'm so sorry. How long has this been happening?"

"Since you asked me to prom," Blaine admitted. This was why he had been avoiding telling Kurt - he knew that Kurt would blame himself.

Kurt looked horrified. "Oh God, why didn't you tell me? I feel horrible, I never should have pressured you into going -"

"Kurt, it's fine, it's not your fault -" Blaine tried to reassure him, but Kurt was rambling now.

"I'm such an idiot, I should have known, we won't go, we don't have to go, it's just prom, I got too caught up, we'll go to a movie instead, I'm so sorry, oh my God, I'm sorry, we won't go -" he sounded almost hysterical.

"Kurt!" Blaine practically shouted. Kurt stopped. "It's really fine."

"No, it's not," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"I want to go to prom with you," Blaine insisted. And he did, he really did. He was just terrified.

"No, we're not going." Kurt was now sitting up and facing Blaine, his pale arms crossed over his white t-shirt-clad chest.

"Yes, we are."

"Blaine, I'm not going to force you to do something you're clearly uncomfortable with," Kurt said stubbornly. His face was set in that I've-made-up-my-mind-so-don't-even-bother expression that Blaine normally knew better than to argue with.

"I really want to go with you, Kurt," Blaine said quietly. "You deserve to have an amazing prom."

"Not if it means you're going to be having nightmares for the next week," Kurt replied, his tone gentler now.

"I can manage," Blaine said bravely, though the thought of revisiting that experience every night for the next week made him sick to his stomach.

"Blaine," Kurt said, reaching out tentatively to touch Blaine's face. This time, Blaine didn't flinch away. He leaned his cheek into Kurt's delicate hand, letting his eyelids flutter closed as Kurt gently traced the features of his face with his thumb.

"That feels nice," Blaine murmured appreciatively, letting Kurt's loving touch drive away the memories of hard knuckles and shattered dignity. Kurt smiled and continued what he was doing, tracing his fingers over Blaine's eyelids, his lips, the curve of his jaw. His heart was aching for his boyfriend, and he was grateful for any opportunity to ease Blaine's pain.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Kurt asked after a while, pulling his hand away from Blaine's face and instead lacing their fingers together.

Blaine opened his eyes. Once again, he was struck by the expression on Kurt's face - no judgment, no disgust, only compassion and concern. Blaine felt as if his heart might explode with love for this beautiful boy in front of him, so earnest and kind and understanding. Kurt gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I just - it wasn't even getting my ass kicked that was so bad. I mean, yeah, it hurt like hell, but I could take it. And it wasn't that they were doing it because we were gay, because I knew people would hate me for that. I knew people were ignorant and cruel. I was ready." He took a shaky breath. "The worst part was just how helpless I felt. They had my hands behind my back so I couldn't defend myself, and I just had to stand there and take it. I had to watch his fist coming at me again and again knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it -" he broke off, his voice ragged and broken. He was shaking again, and he hated himself for reacting like this - he felt utterly pathetic.

Kurt crawled over and wrapped his arms around Blaine, hugging him tightly and stroking his back. He pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's neck, and Blaine felt like crying at the tenderness of the gesture.

Taking strength from Kurt, Blaine went on. "It's the weakest I've ever felt in my life. And they kept yelling that I wasn't really a man, that I couldn't even fight back because I was just - just a fag. Like being gay made me less of a man somehow. Maybe they were right. I am weak. Two years later and I'm still having nightmares." Blaine registered a feeling of wetness on his neck, and he realized Kurt was crying.

Kurt pulled away from Blaine slightly so that he could look him in the eye. "You're not weak, Blaine," Kurt said. His voice was soft but surprisingly forceful. "It doesn't take much of a man to beat up a guy who can't defend himself. A real man is someone who has the courage to show the world who he is and what he believes in, no matter the consequences. I learned that from you."

Blaine was overcome by a familiar feeling as he listened to Kurt speak, and he realized that this was exactly how he had felt when he watched Kurt sing "Blackbird." He was moved by Kurt's passion and sincerity, his fierce love for the people (and birds) in his life.

Kurt was still speaking, his eyes boring into Blaine's. "That's why no matter how many times Karofsky shoves me into a locker, I will always be stronger than him. And no matter what those guys did to you or how many nightmares you have, you are still the most courageous man I know."

Blaine grabbed the front of Kurt's shirt and kissed him fiercely, bringing his hands up to clutch at Kurt's face and hair. When their lips finally broke apart, Blaine kept his hands on Kurt's face, resting their foreheads together. "Thank you," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead and leaned back, his hands dropping back to his lap.

"You're welcome," Kurt said. "And all that nonsense about you not being a man - well, I certainly wouldn't be this attracted to you if that were true."

Blaine actually managed to laugh at that. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said.

"I try."

They settled back into bed, lying face to face. "You know, I had nightmares about Karofsky for a while," Kurt said quietly. "But eventually they went away."

"What happened?" Blaine asked curiously, surprised that Kurt had never told him about this.

"I met you. And then I started dreaming about you instead." He reached out to brush a stray curl off of Blaine's forehead.

Blaine smiled, a gorgeous, truly happy smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I wish I could dream about you instead," Blaine said, pulling Kurt closer to him.

"Maybe you will now," Kurt said.

"I hope so."

"Maybe this will help." Kurt prodded Blaine until he rolled over, then pressed up against Blaine's back, spooning him. He draped one arm over his boyfriend, sliding a hand under the thin cotton of Blaine's t-shirt and resting it protectively on the taut skin of his stomach. Blaine sighed happily at the contact, loving the feel of Kurt's warm body curved around him. "Good night, Blaine," Kurt murmured, kissing the back of Blaine's neck and nuzzling into his shoulder.

"Good night," Blaine replied. He stayed awake for a little while after that, taking comfort in the feel of Kurt's chest rising and falling evenly against his back. When he did finally fall asleep, he dreamed of dancing at prom with Kurt. And one week later, that was exactly what they did.