a/n: hi, it's me, the author. :) i forgot to say, but this story contains non-con and abuse (only implied and/or in flashbacks) so if it seems like this is not your piece of cake, please stop reading. the other thing is that i will probably be updating once a week or a bit less frequently. i'm a slow writer who loses interest in a chapter pretty quickly, and i have school and other stuff that keep me busy.

a big thank you to everyone who left a review, followed or favourited this story - it means a lot to me to know that someone is reading my story! anon, are you a mind-reader or something or am i just really obvious? :D yes, that was my original plan. i don't know if it's going to happen, though. fangirl, it's not told in the fic but let's just say that he did call the police lol because i'm a lazy ass and want to go to sleep.

anyway, here's chapter two!

It's like Kurt wakes up a bit during the car trip. By the time they stop in front of Blaine's house his ears are up and twitching a little, like he's vaguely interested about his surroundings. His eyes are still dull, though, and he doesn't resist when Blaine scoops him in his arms and carries him inside.

He's not entirely sure what he should do then, though. He's not sure if Kurt can stand on his own by now, but he doesn't know what else to do. Can he just drop him on the couch? Or on the bed in the guest room?

But somewhere while he thinks Kurt begins to paw at his shirt, and as he looks down he realizes no matter he's going to do he's going to have to do it soon, because it looks like Kurt is becoming more and more terrified by each second. His ears are flat against his head and his eyes are wide as a small whimper escapes his mouth and Blaine thinks quickly.

He lifts one hand to awkwardly pet Kurt's hair behind his ears, scratching lightly and smiling a bit as Kurt continues staring at him with wide eyes. It's not much, but it's a distraction – and soon enough he's pressing his head tentatively against Blaine's hand and letting a small, breathy purr pass his lips.

It's not much but somehow it feels like the greatest victory to Blaine.

In the end Blaine decides that it may be the best to tuck Kurt in bed even though it's barely nine o'clock and he somehow involuntarily carries him into the room he had decorated for him.

It's not too much – the walls are painted blue and there are new, clean sheets in the bed and a desk, a bookshelf and a colorful carpet on the floor. He thinks that they can maybe shop together for some new furniture once Kurt feels better. They'll pick the curtains together and maybe re-paint the walls, if Kurt doesn't like the color, and they can buy him books and dvds and a computer if he wants one, and cds, of course. Blaine can't imagine a life without music. They can get Kurt absolutely what he ever wants.

For now, though, the room is enough, as Kurt will probably not do anything else than sleep. So, he lies the already half-asleep boy on the bed and draws the covers up to his neck.

It's dark and quiet when Kurt wakes up.

That alone should be enough to alarm him, but somehow he's still too exhausted and out of it to really notice, and he just sighs softly and rolls over, slumping his head into the pillow and moving a bit around. The blanket is tangled up around his feet, and he sighs in frustration as he tries to disentangle it with his feet. His limbs feel oddly heavy and the room is dark, and oh jesus christ that blanket is not going to straighten, is it? He's so tired and he really just wants his blanket and -

wait.

There's no blankets in their cages.

Which means that he's not in the Shelter. Which means that he's either dead or adopted.

He flails a bit, hits the wall with his wrist and grimaces a bit at the feeling, white pain shooting from his wrist down his arm and he hisses a little as he cradles his arm against his chest. Alive, then.

But – if he's alive and adopted and he's lying in a bed -

Kurt freezes.

He's in a bed. In a bed. Inabedinabedinabedinabedhave togogoingtobehurt -

It takes a while before he realizes that the horrible noise he's hearing is coming from his own mouth.

It takes Blaine a few minutes to realize what woke him up.

It's still dark in his room, the headlights of the cars passing his house lighting up the wall every now and then, and still, he's hearing a voice – an insistent, panicked voice, and okay, oh god, why is there someone in his house?

He's halfway up and away before he realizes – Kurt. It's Kurt, of course. Who else could it be? And okay, what t he fuck is happening?

The door is slightly open, and there's dim light coming from the room. The noises sound more distressed this close and Blaine is getting worried. He knew Kurt would probably have trouble adjusting, but these noises – they don't sound like a human at all. These are noises a dying cat would make. But Blaine braces himself and pushes the door open.

His blood runs cold.

Kurt's on the floor, curled up into a tight ball, his hands protectively over his ears and terrified little noises escaping his mouth. His nose is bleeding and Blaine guesses he hit it somewhere when he woke up (fell from the bed? Got scared when he woke up in a strange place?) and oh jesus christ how is he going to fix this? No-one ever told him how to make a terrified, hurt hybrid trust him.

So, he falls on his knees next to Kurt, trying desperately to keep his voice low and calm as he speaks.

"You're okay, Kurt, It's okay", is what he means to say but honestly, he has no idea what passes his lips as he tries to calm the trembling, crying boy down. It doesn't make a difference, anyway, as Kurt continues crying harder, his hands clutching at his ears as he tries to curl into himself even tighter, and dearjesushelp what is he going to do with this boy?

Blaine shakes those thoughts away, and praying for the best he lifts Kurt up by his shoulders, forcing his body to uncurl and straighten into a sitting position his face still crumbled up with hysterical cries and furious trembling shaking his lithe body.

"Kurt", he says loudly and as calmly as he possibly can, looking straight into the other boy's blue eyes. They're rimmed red, wet and there's a steady flow of tears streaming down his cheeks but oh god, are they beautiful. Blaine shakes his head; this is not going where he wants it to. But – it seems like Kurt is listening to him. At least his eyes seem to be more in focus now, the pupils blown in the dim light and ears twitching nervously every now and then towards Blaine, as if he was expecting him to do something.

So he does.

Kurt flinches when Blaine takes his hand but he doesn't try to shy away from the touch; Blaine isn't entirely sure if it's because of him or because he's been told to do so. His heart clenches painfully at the thought and he forces it in the back of his mind – he'll come back to that later. Right now he has more important issues in his mind. Like Kurt. Who has started shaking again. Fuck.

"Kurt", he starts again, and he hates to admit it, but his voice isn't as steady as he'd like it to be. He's usually so dapper and put-together and he honestly isn't sure if he's capable of doing this. He honestly can't even remember the last time he felt this unsure and nervous of himself, and okay, it's a little bit terrifying, but for god's sake, Blaine, put yourself together.

So, he does.

"You're okay", he says, as calmly as he possibly can, relieved when his voice shakes only the tiniest bit. Kurt's eyes are still wide, and with Blaine's fingers wrapped tightly around his delicate, thin wrists he just looks so young and fragile, and Blaine can feel himself melting. Oh, for the love of god...

But well, Kurt seems to actually be listening now, so that's a good thing, he thinks. He gives Kurt's hand a quick grasp before he lets go, his fingers suddenly burning as he clears his head a little.

"Okay, you're okay. Calm down for me, can you do that? Good, keep breathing, shh, it's okay- no, hey, shh, come on", Blaine's voice grows a bit desperate when Kurt whimpers and hides his face behind his hands. Blaine is a bit unsure what to do; he's afraid that the younger boy might start panicking again now that he's got this much control, but he thinks that it may be just worse for Kurt if he takes his hands again. He lets out a frustrated huff; no matter how good he though he had been prepared to own a hybrid, he never cared much to find out how to deal with a terrified boy who refused to stop crying over no reason at all. Because frankly, Blaine has no idea what could have upset him so bad. He had been sleeping just fine not over five hours ago, sound asleep in a fetal position under three blankets (he had figured that extra warmness was always good, especially when the boy was so thin that he was probably unable to develop any body heat by himself) with his thumb in his mouth.

He frowns. Maybe the boy had a nightmare? Yes, that must be it – because he doesn't know why else he would have panicked this much. Maybe it was about his previous owner? Owners? Blaine frowns again. God, he doesn't even know if the boy has had more than one owners – maybe he's one of those who never really seem to find a good family? Though Blaine has no idea why anyone could have let someone like Kurt go... But that must be it, and that's why Kurt is so scared.

He's side-tracking again, Jesus fucking Christ. Kurt has stopped crying, only letting out small whimpers every now and then but otherwise silent. The tears have stopped streaming but he's still pretty shaken, apparently. He's still hiding his face behind his hands but not so desperately anymore. It's more like he can't gather the courage to remove them than anything else. Blaine kind of understands him. He knows what it feels like to be in a strange, scary situation, but well, okay, this is a bit more scary and strange to Kurt than it ever was for him, even when he came out and his dad wouldn't look him in the eye for a week.

"Hey", he says softly, his fingers tracing lightly the bone in Kurt's wrist. The boy stills at the contact and he draws in a shuddery breath, and Blaine really isn't sure what he's supposed to do here.

"Why are you so upset?" he asks, careful to keep his voice low and calm as he caresses Kurt's wrist. The other boy moves his hands enough to look up at him, his eyes wide and glossy, expression curious but withdrawn at the same time. It makes Blaine wonder how anyone could look like that, but he mentally shakes his head. Woah, he's got some serious trouble with concentrating tonight.

"It's okay, you can tell me", he says, smiles carefully and ohgodohgod let him realize that he's trying to look nice and not scary and threatening old man -

but Kurt wipes his nose on the sleeve of his shirt (Blaine can see how much the motion disgusts the boy but he does it anyway) and opens his mouth.

"Bed", he says simply. His voice is so quiet Blaine isn't sure he heard right, but wow, okay.

"So, bed?" he asks conversationally. "What about the bed? Isn't it good?", he asks, totally no judgment in his tone and trying to keep the smile on his face, but the boy shrinks back into himself.

"No, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep in the bed, I didn't – please don't send me back, I can be a good boy, please let me prove it, please do what you want with me, I deserve your punishments, I-" he rambles, his voice taking the shrill edge of panic as he talks faster and faster, his eyes growing wider as he talks. And woah, well, Blaine knew that people didn't really think much of hybrids, didn't he? But Jesus did it make him angry and sad to hear this beautiful boy, this person talking about not having the right of sleeping in a fucking bed.

"Kurt", he interrupts. "You're allowed to sleep in the bed. I'm not going to punish you. I am never going to punish you – never. You hear me?" Blaine hopes his voice isn't too scary (that's the last thing Kurt needs right now) and he tries to sound as sincere as he can, and oh, he thinks that's a nod there. He'd call that progress.

"Good", he says softly, his eyes warm and looking straight into Kurt's. It's clear how hard he's struggling to look back but Blaine appreciates it, he really does, and well, okay, that's not a tear. Totally not. And even if it is it's just because he's over-emotional and it's fucking two in the fucking morning. But Kurt is fidgeting nervously, his eyes downcast again. There's a little something in him that's absolutely screaming – Blaine could be wrong, there are many times he's misjudged the situation and made it awkward – his need to be held, and okay, well, that Blaine can do.

So, moving slowly enough to give the other boy time to refuse, he moves closer, looking directly into Kurt's eyes as he does so, and when the boy doesn't move, wraps his arms around the thin boy. He's rigid and stiff in his hold, but slowly he relaxes, his posture softening against Blaine as tentative arms wrap around his neck and a face presses against his neck.

It's comforting, and he can feel Kurt's breathing evening out as he sings softly into his ear.

Blaine has always considered himself as a cuddly person.

He prefers a touch over words and a hug over a "you mean so much to me", that's always been clear – so it's not really a surprise to him to wake up tangled into something. Usually it's a blanket, or a pillow – one time he had even proceeded to take off his hoodie and wake up cradling it to his chest like it was his newborn baby. So, naturally, when he wakes up holding onto something tightly his instincts tell him to keep holding on.

The thing here is just that this time the thing was, trusting in the steady rise and fall of it's chest, even though the thing was trying to stay very still and very quiet, actually alive.

There's a bunch of thoughts racing through his mind – jesus christ how drunk was I last night, who is this and when did I get a dog being the top three – before his mind fully registers what's happening.

Kurt. Of course.

Then he remembers – this is the broken boy he held in his arms for two hours before he fell asleep last night, and panics a little.

Kurt lets out a distressed noise and Blaine loosens his grip.

Or okay, maybe a lot.

He hurries to let go completely, then, his arm stuck underneath Kurt's body and wow, it's completely asleep and kinda hurts. He's pretty sure he's destroyed their fragile friendship (? or okay, maybe it's a bit too early to call it that) with the cuddlewhore-ing and probably also traumatized Kurt so thoroughly he's never going to talk to him – but then Kurt turns around in his arms to look sleepily at him.

And Blaine realizes that he's purring.

It's subtle, quiet but it's definitely there, rumbling in Kurt's chest and vibrating against Blaine's stomach and chest, and don't cats purr when they're happy? Blaine's pretty sure that's what he's read, at least he thinks it is. Rachel's cat purrs when he pets him, anyway. He's a real cat, though, and Kurt is a hybrid, and he wonders if there's a difference between them? If Kurt purrs when he's distressed and scared?

But the lazy smile and slow blinking of his eyes tells him otherwise. It's like he's not completely awake yet, his body heavy with sleep and eyes drooping shut in the first rays of sun shining through the curtains. Blaine can feel Kurt's tail curling slowly against his leg and his ears twitch a little against his cheek.

It's kind of beautiful, really. Watching the otherwise scared boy so content and unhurried... Blaine can kind of feel his heart swelling in his chest, and okay, this could be a problem.

But as much as it pains him, Blaine gets up before Kurt wakes up properly, puts on some clothes and walks into the kitchen to make some coffee.

Kurt slips into the kitchen a full hour later, his ears flat against his head and his whole posture as small as possible, his long tail curled between his legs and his steps small and tentative. Blaine lifts his eyes from the newspaper he's been reading for the past forty four minutes or so, and smiles warmly at Kurt. The hybrid seems to still be a bit jumpy, but at least he smiles tentatively back.

"What do you want to eat?" he asks, getting up. Kurt's eyes widen.

"Uh, what ever you have is fine?" he answers, biting his lip. Blaine stares at him.

"Anything in particular?" he asks, and frowns when Kurt shakes his head. "Are you sure? I have bread, and cereal, and I think there might be some yoghurt in there... I also have some tuna if you want it? Or, I have oranges and bananas, do you want them?" he asks, but Kurt just shakes his head.

"Just.. Whatever you want", he says and his voice is small, but he eyes the items on the counter curiously and Blaine sees straight through him.

"Banana then?", he guesses with a small smile. Kurt gives him a shy smile as he takes the banana.

"Having problems?" Blaine asks with an amused smirk when Kurt keeps staring at the banana with a deep frown. The boy blushes – actually blushes and grumbles something under his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Blaine asks, now deeply amused. The question, though, sends Kurt into a full-on panic mode. His head snaps up and his eyes widen to the size of an apple and god, Blaine wants to hit himself. He keeps on forgetting.

"Hey", he says very softly. "I didn't mean it like that. Remember what I said about punishments? There will be none. Calm down, Kurt – you're okay, breathe -"

The boy is very near to hyperventilating when Blaine finally gets him to calm down. His insides twist as he thinks about what his previous owners probably did – or didn't do, in this case – when Kurt panicked. It's like he's honestly surprised when Blaine doesn't ignore him, or beat him up, or god knows what people have done to him. He tightens his hold of the boy every time it looks like he's going to start to cry again.

By the time Kurt disentangles himself from Blaine it's well past eleven am and Kurt's stomach grumbles loudly. The boy ducks his head as he flushes, and Blaine chuckles again.

"What about I peel that banana for you and we can talk a bit after that, huh?" Blaine asks conversationally as he takes a new banana (the first one looks more like a smoothie by now, Kurt's grip is strong) and begins to peel it. Kurt's eyes follow his hands hungrily, and it would be amusing if it wasn't so sad. He knows that Kurt probably hasn't had proper food since forever – the owners like to think that the hybrids are completely animals, giving them only food meant for animals. It disgusts Blaine, frankly, but what can he do?

His fears are proved right when he looks at Kurt, his eyes full of wonder as he holds the fruit in his hand like it's the most prized possession he could imagine. His teeth graze the banana grazefully and his brows are furrowed in an expression so adorable Blaine has to kick himself mentally to stop himself from smiling.

Eventually, Kurt has eaten the banana (as well as two oranges and a cup of cocoa) and is just kind of sitting at the table, his ears up and tail twitching behind him against Blaine's kitchen chair which he's sitting cross-legged on.

Blaine really doesn't want to have this conversation – as in, really, really doesn't. But Kurt is right there, looking happy and pleased and much like he's going to start purring soon, and Blaine wants him to know that he's always allowed to be happy. So, he gathers the pieces of his courage and responsibility and opens his mouth.

"I think it's the time for us to set some rules", he begins, and oh, he can see how Kurt's smile disappears and ears drop against his head. Great. He tries to smile calmly, but Kurt won't look him in the eye. Guess he'll just have to go on.

"Firstly, I don't know what your rules with your last "owners"" - he draws quotation marks with his fingers in the air at the word "owners" - "were, but I don't have that kind of rules. You're always allowed to sit, sleep or generally just be on the chairs, beds or the couch. I'd recommend you not to sit or sleep on the table, but that's not forbidden. You're allowed to eat whenever you feel like it, and entertain yourself as you like. You can watch the television or read or listen to music, what ever you want to do", he lists, and Kurt just looks at him with his mouth slightly open.

"What I expect you to do is keep your room clean – that kind of clean that it isn't full of two weeks old leftovers and dirty socks. I'd also appreciate if you helped me to cook sometimes, but frankly, right now the only thing I want you to do is eat and sleep. You look like you could use some more weight", he says. Kurt's eyes are starting to get glossy.

"I don't believe in punishments. Therefore, there will be no punishments. At all. Never worry about that, I will never hurt you", and this time his tone is softer. Kurt nods, his eyes huge and solemn.

"I believe that's all. Now, what do you want to do?"