Hi guys. I know this has taken a whole lot of freaking time to write. Especially for being such a short chapter too. I have been feeling bad lately, but now when I´m locked up in the mental hospital, I have loads of time to write. If I take my pills, that is :P Well, enjoy!

"It´s Blaine by the way." The stranger said, his eyes closed and minutes from falling asleep.

Kurt had taken the liberty to place a blanket over him, and was now seated at the end of the couch, uneasily looking at the man as he was dozing off. He jerked slightly at the stranger's voice. They had been quiet for a while, and the contrast between the man´s deep voice and the pressing silence was intense. Kurt shook his head in confusion.

"W-what?" He asked, stuttering slightly. The man laughed silently, almost like a whisper, before he spoke again.

"My name." He said, then took a deep breath and stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he had fallen asleep. "You asked what my name was. It´s Blaine. But you can call me hot-stuff if you want.

S´cool Y´now." He mumbled, his voice tuning out into deep breathing, silently falling asleep.

Kurt remembered when he had first gotten out from that place. How he had been so afraid. Afraid of going outside, because he knew there would be men lurking in the corners, just waiting for him to come out. Waiting to kill him for having gotten free.

He remembered how he had flinched away from everyone´s touch, as if afraid there were going to hurt him. How he, every time someone gave something to him like food, clothes, a towel to wipe himself off, he would look at them hesitantly, as if asking for permission. How he would slowly and with shaky hands, reach out for it and then when he had it in his hands, he would flinch again, as if awaiting a hit for doing something he wasn´t allowed.

He remembered the sudden silence, and the time he got to himself. He had been so lonely. He had so much more time to actually process what had happened to him. When he was at that place, in the whole thing, he didn´t have time to really stop and process what he was feeling. But suddenly he did, and it came all at once. All the pain, all the fear and all the self-hatred. It came rushing down at once and he would sit days at end, only staring into the wall. He wouldn´t eat, wouldn´t speak and couldn´t cry.

That´s why Kurt felt uneasy when looking at Blaine. There was something about the boy that made him want to tear his heart out and just cry. To just let everything out. It made no sense, because the boy had not been very nice or appropriate. Kurt shook his head to rid his mind of his thoughts, and then he flinched. He looked down at the boy and realized he was petting his hair, stroking it back from his forehead and away from his sleeping eyes. He jerked his hand away and the boy squirmed slightly and turned around in the couch with a silent murmur.

Kurt looked at his hand, perplexed at what he had done. He hadn´t touched anyone in three years. He rose from where he sat in a crouched position and walked towards his bedroom lazily taking his clothes off then stopping midway. Should he really take them off? There is another man in his apartment, a stranger. He shook his head. It was too hot to sleep in his pajamas, and he usually only slept in his boxers. He felt a little bit uneasy though. He didn´t want to be half naked when there was a man just a few feet away. Then he sighed. It´s not like a few extra layers would prevent a rapist to do his thing. So it doesn´t really matter how much clothes he was wearing.

He continued taking his clothes off, slipping out of his jeans and then jumping in bed. Feeling very exposed. He shouldn´t give the other man a reason. This was to provoking him. It would be his fault if he was lying here in only boxers. He would be asking for it.

He immediately raised from the bed again, dashing to his cupboard and searching for his pajamas, who really was just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then went to bed again. He looked up into the ceiling, listening to the soft breathing from the couch and feeling sleep overpower him. Soon he had fallen asleep, dreams haunting his mind.

He was captured, stuck and suffocated. He was back in the damp cellar where never ending screams and groans was playing in his ears. He felt so warm; he was sweating and shivering in the same time. He was so afraid. He looked to his right, and saw the siluet of a boy. He sqeeshed his eyes to try and focus his sight, but could only make out the flash of a pair of golden hazel eyes. Then they were gone and Kurt felt a pressure from behind him. It was unfamiliar but still so easily remembered. Then the pictured changed and he was being ripped apart. Cut open and whipped and torn and raped. They were hitting him so hard, graceless thrusts digging into him with no soul. Not hearing his pleas and only laughing, grunting and beating.

Kurt woke up with a start, feeling hands curling around him, grabbing him and dragging him closer. His eyes widened with fear and he ripped himself from the arms, falling to the floor and crawling backwards towards the corner of the room, then sat still, curling his arms around his knees, staring terrified at the person who was sitting in his bed, looking at him.

Kurt looked back, still afraid to his very core, his heart beating to the point where it almost was torn from his chest. He felt his head spinning and everything was so intense. So real. He felt so afraid, and panicked. There were here. They had found him. He was terrified. Afraid of making a sound but his very core telling him to run, to scream and to get away.. His breath started to quicken, a panic attack working its way into his chest. The man stood up from the bed, slowly approaching him and Kurt pressed himself closer to the wall, wanting to sink though it, escaping the horror that was surrounding him. He started shaking his head as the man got closer, crouching in front of him.

"No! NO! DON`T TOUCH ME!" He screamed; his eyes frantic and unable to focus. The man was close now, but so very still. Kurt shut his eyes closed, not wanting to see and his face between his knees whispering silent pleas into them. Telling them to stop, to get away, not to touch him, not to hurt him. Please not again, please I´m so tired. I can´t take it again.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and hearing a soft voice.

"Hey, take it easy, dude, it was just a nightmare. I´m not going to hurt you."

Kurt snapped his head up, looking wide eyed at the man in front of him. His brain was working frantically but he was still so afraid and shocked to understand or recognize. He looked at the hand that was placed at his shoulder and he flinched away from it, creeping under the man´s arm and backing to the other side of the room, his brain finally starting to remember the night before and slowly making him able to control his breathing, and the situation.

"W-what… How… What the fuck do you think you´re doing?! You fucking piece of rotten meat, how much of an incompetent fucking moron are you?!" Kurt suddenly outburst, tears building up in his eyes at sheer anger and embarrassment but he refused to let them fall.

"I´m sorry, I just woke up and wanted a little snuggling. The couch was awfully uncomfortable, if you didn´t already know." The curly headed man said causally, though his eyes slightly cautious.

Kurt however was staring at him utter disbelief. He couldn´t believe the stupidity and lack of sense of the other man. He just shook his head, unable to wrap his finger around the situation and just sunk down to the floor, feeling exhausted. He rested his forehead on the top of his knees, letting out the breath he´d been holding and tried to calm down.

"Geesh, calm down. If I´d known you were such a prude I wouldn´t have done it." The man said nervously, wanting to defend himself for erupting such fear and angst he had seen in the blue-eyed boy.

Kurt let out a deep, exhausted sigh and let his head fall to his knees as he closed his eyes.

"Please…Please, just… Just leave." He whispered weakly as he hugged his knees with his long arms and listened to the steps that first got closer then disappeared from the room. Soon he heard the front door shut closed and he relaxed.

Weeks went by and Kurt was once again locked up in his apartment, not answering his friend´s calls or messages. He didn´t want to speak to them. He was too tired and he needed to be alone. At least that was what he told himself. Saner people would probably be around people, having some kind of life around them so they wouldn´t lose themselves completely. But Kurt was already lost. Lost beyond repair. He saw no meaning in life. Why should he carry on? This wasn´t life anyways. He wasn´t living. He might as well be dead. At least death would make him stop being afraid. It would end all the pain. All the suffering.

He stood up carefully, dizzy from not having eaten anything for two days. He slowly made his way to the bathroom, standing in front of the sink, looking himself in the dirty mirror. He was nothing. Useless. He lowered his gaze and it stuck on the white containers standing so heroic on the sink. It´s so easy. He reached his hand out and grabbed the different pill containers. He opened all of them, placing them in a row and then took one of them, pouring the pills left in there into his hand, put them in his mouth and turned on the water. Slowly, he bowed his head and let the water pour into his mouth. He swallowed. His heart was beating fast. He was doing it. Finally he would end this.

He took the second container and repeated the same procedure. Pills, water, swallow. Next container. Pills, water, swallow. Then the phone rang.

Blaine was sitting on the side of the street. He had three bags, filled with his belongings. Clothes, mostly. He should have known this would happen. There is a limit for everything, and he had crossed the only one he should have stayed away from. His father´s thickly drawn line. Blaine had called him. That was strike number one. He wasn´t meant to call. Wasn´t allowed. But he had. He was drunk, and somehow, he had thought it would be a good idea to call his father and let him listen to the dirty-fag fucking session he and his nightly hook up was having.

"Enjoy." He had whispered and then left the phone on the tableside, smirking as the guy above him fucked him senseless. He made sure to make as much sounds as possible. The final straw had probably been when he had screamed: "Oh yeah, fuck me daddy!" To his counterpart who was probably in the same age as his father.

Now he had paid the price. The next day, after his hangover had past, the apartment owner knocked on his door and told him to pack up his things and get out. His father had called him and said that he would stop paying the rent, and so Blaine was thrown out of his home and left on the dirty sidewalk, nowhere to turn.

He took out his phone and went through all his contacts. There were no friends. No relatives. Only meaningless guys who he had fucked once or twice. But then he stopped. Blue-eyes. His heart stopped a beat and then he pressed the button, and raised the phone to his ear. He waited. And waited, and was just about to hang up when he heard a rumbling noise as if something was dropped on the floor. Like a cup of pills. He heard water flowing in the background and then breathing.

"Hello?" He asked. He waited.

"Wh-who is…?" The breathing continued, slow and uneven.

"Hey, are you okay?" Blaine urged, something was obviously not right. The boy´s voice was weak and hoarse.

"He-hel- ph." The voice whispered. Even though it was weak it sounded panicked. But it was so low, that Blaine couldn´t hear what he said.

"What? " He urged.

He heard some rustling sound and then slow steps and then a thump, as if a body falling to the ground.

"H-help!"

Oh god, oh god. Oh god. The sound of pills dropping, water flowing and a weak voice. He was killing himself. Blaine immediately began to panic, but forced himself to be calm.

"Hey. Hey! Talk to me, don´t fall asleep, you hear me? Talk to me. What´s your name?"

Blaine stood up from the street side and called for a cab. When no one stopped he went out on the middle of the road, his hands outstretched. The cab hit the brakes and honked at him.

Blaine didn´t care but went to the side of the car and opened the door, grabbed the guy who was sitting in the backseat and closed the door.

"Take me three blocks west from here and then go right to the apartments there. Now! My friend is fucking killing himself!" He screamed, his eyes frantic and promising a deathly fate if the driver would not listen to him. The driver immideatly began driving, looking distressed and genuliy worried. He was drying very much faster then allowed, driving past red lights and almost hitting a car from behind.

Blaine went back to the phone.

"Hey- HEY? Are you there? Tell me you name."

"K-kurt." He breathed, barely audible.

"Okay, Kurt, I need you to stay awake, do you hear me? Try sitting up. I´m on my way."

Blaine heard more rustling and then a soft thump.

"Are you sitting now? Kurt? Try sticking your fingers in your throat? You need to get the pills out, okay?"

"I-I. Feel s-so… numb. I… Don´t… W-want. To feel… A-anymore."

Blaine felt his heart sinking and his lungs shrinking.

"No, yo-you don´t want this. You need to live, okay? I know it´s hard but whatever hard things you´ve been thorugh… If you die, you let them win. You are strong, okay? Stay strong for me. I´m on my way. K-keep talking to me. Tell me… Think about the good stuff. Tell me about you happiest memory."

"I- I can´t… Remember. Anymore. The-they´ve. Taken… Everything. Taken… my life, already. They… Destroyed me. They… were r-right. Useless." Every word was said in a breathing whisper, but they screamed to Blaine as if Kurt had been just next to him.

Blaine was lost for words, but then the cab hit the brakes and he was there.

"No! You´re not useless! You saved me the other day, don´t you remember? You´ll be okay, I´m right here, I´m coming up now!" He said hoarsely. He threw what was left in his wallet at the taxidriver and then bolted up the stair of the apartment and stopped at the door where he remembered Kurt lived. It was locked. Luckily enough this door seemed close to falling apart on it´s own, so all it took for it to open was a couple of desperate kicks and he was inside.

He ran inside and went straight for the bedroom, and there he was, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, his phone laying loose in his hand that was weakly resting on the floor.

"KURT!" Blaine ran to him and kneeled beside him, smacking his face and trying to get eye contact.

The blue eyes was unfocused and glazed but he was still breathing, if still very weakly.

Without further ado, Blaine lunged forward and put his fingers in Kurt´s throat, forcing him to throw up. He was gagging and coughing and then a cascade of water and pills hit the floor. Blaine did it again, and again, until Kurt was only couching up air, then he lifted him up and placed him on the side of the bed, sitting up and stood in front of him.

"Kurt?" He said, his hands stroking his face and searching for his eyes. They soon found him, and blue found Hazel. Blaine blinked, a strange feeling erupting in his chest.

"You." He said, his eyes slowly blinking and keeping them shut, and then just as slowly opening them again.

"Yes, me." Blaine said while continuing his stroking of the soft face.

Kurt mumbled something incoherent and closed his eyes again. He sat like that for a while, then slowly, a frown appeared on his forehead and before Blaine knew it, his hand was smacked away and Kurt had back to the head of the bed with a weak, but immensely furious expression.

"YOU!" He repeated, though now shouting it with a hoarse and judging voice.

"No! Wh-why. Why would you do that?! How the hell did you get into my apartment?! What the fuck have you done!?" He yelled hysterically.

Blaine gave him a slightly annoyed huff and crossed his arms.

"I saved you, a little appreciation and gratefulness would be nice." He said gruffly.

"I DIDN`T WANT TO BE SAVED!" Kurt roared, tears building up in his eyes.

"I-I wanted… I was so close. T-to rid all of it." He shook his head and covered it with his hands, then he rasied it again his eyes now overflowing with tears, flowing down his cheeks. Blaine started advancing on him, standing on the side of the bed next to Kurt and attempted to place a hand on his shoulder.

"I WANTED TO DIE!" He cried, then lunged forward at Blaine and slapped him across the face, breathing heavily and furiously. Blaine didn´t budge though, but remained calm. Kurt slapped him again, harder this time, but once again, Blaine didn´t move a muscle.

"URGH!" Kurt exclaimed, and started boxing and hitting on Blaine´s chest and attempting to push him away. But the attempts were weak, but Kurt kept going. Hitting and pushing and crying. Blaine just waited, waited until Kurt was finally slowing his pace and his entire body sagged and he collapsed into Blaine´s arms. Resting his head on his shoulder and crying, sniffling and hiccupping until the last of his strength was washed out of him. Blaine slowly sat down on the bed, and let Kurt rest on his shoulder. Soon his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Blaine stared down at the boy in amazement. He couldn´t believe what just happened. He had saved a life. He had cared. Again. There was something with this boy that took out some forgotten part of him. It was unnerving he thought as he sat there, petting the boy´s hair back, stroking it out of his tear-streaked face. He don´t know for how long he sat there, but soon light started streaming through the sheet covered window and it wasn´t until then that Kurt moved again. Blaine looked down at him and searched his reaction. Was he going to lash out again? But Kurt only blinked and smiled a sleepy smile before he mumbled something slurred. Like he wasn´t really awake.

"Thank you." He whispered and yawned. "Now we´re even."

Aaaaalrighty then! Rewiev? :D