Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows - they really mean a lot! Here's the next chapter - moving on a little bit to Blaine's release from hospital. I had an idea and then it turned out to be a little longer than I originally anticipated, but I hope you like it anyway. The other stuff I hinted at in the note at the end of the last chapter will come up next, along with any suggestions you may have. Please review :)

The next few days were stressful to say the least. There seemed to be an endless list of tasks to complete in order to try and secure Blaine into the Hummel household. Summers, for her part, proved to be a very useful and reliable ally. She worked with all her power, even as an outsider to the hospital staff, to help set in motion meetings involving people who would ultimately be able to grant Burt at least temporary custody of Blaine. Burt suspected that she was vastly exceeding what her job qualified her to actually do, as a psychiatrist and therapist, but he certainly wasn't complaining. In fact, he was beginning to realise just why Summers had such a glowing reputation. She literally did everything she could to help a patient.

Much of the interactions seemed to take place between Summers and the people involved, such as the hospital social worker, allowing Burt and Kurt to pretty much remain vigil at Blaine's bedside. One particularly helpful initiative Summers had undertaken was handling the police. She had typed up a report from the limited information Blaine had been able to recall about his attacker and handed it over to the police, who apparently were now attempting to sketch out an outline of the assailant's appearance. She had thankfully emphasised that Blaine was in no condition to be facing any pressing questions by intimidating police officers who could potentially come blundering in, pressuring the teenager for information as though he were a suspect rather than a victim. The police had also promised that they would try to keep their search for the attacker relatively subtle, so that only limited press would grow aware of the story. Burt had emphasised through Summers that Blaine's identity be kept quiet at all costs though, because the last thing the kid needed was the entirety of Lima, Ohio laughing behind his back. And Burt was prepared to bet that some vile people would laugh if they found out that the rape victim was gay. He hated merely even thinking that but he had resided in Lima all his life, and with having lived with Kurt all these years, he knew just how awful some people could be.

It was just as well that Summers took care of many things, because Blaine did not seem to be getting much better. On that second night at the hospital, after Burt had called Carole following his conversation with Summers, they had spent a little more time with Blaine before admitting defeat, realising that they would have to return home at some point. Kurt, though he would never admit it, had been on the verge of collapse, having insisted on staying awake, sitting resolutely by his best friend's bedside for near enough forty-eight hours, and according to Carole, Finn was getting a little prickly that his family had 'virtually abandoned him' in favour of someone he had never met. It had been then that Burt had realised that they had yet to explain to Finn about Blaine most likely residing at the Hummel house, and he wasn't altogether sure he had told Blaine about Finn either, something which he quickly amended. Blaine took it just about as well as he had taken Carole's presence in the Hummels' lives. In other words, he had begun another round of fretful apologies about him being a burden and imposing on their life, and whilst Burt had attempted to quieten the boy, like before, it didn't really seem to have a long-lasting effect. The apologies continued.

After seeing Blaine's broken condition for those past couple of days, Burt had been convinced that his heart couldn't possibly be shattered into even tinier pieces, but he had been proven wrong when he had gently tried to inform Blaine that he, Kurt and Carole had to go home. Poor Blaine had misunderstood, believing that they were leaving him for good. He had been nothing short of hysterical, sobbing heavily that he was sorry and that he could be better, pleading with them in great distress not to leave him and send him back. Kurt of course had burst into tears alongside him, his tiredness and heightened emotions taking their toll, and for a few minutes, his son had stubbornly refused to leave Blaine's side, telling the adults to leave him there for the night.

Both Burt and Carole had been at a loss as to what to do. Their solution, though Burt was in no way pleased by it, came in the form of a young nurse, who had heard the commotion due to Blaine's feverish cries waking up half the neighbouring ward. She had promptly sedated the frenzied boy, even though Blaine begged her not to; begged them not to let it happen. As Blaine had screamed and fought to the second his head slumped onto the pillow, his breathing evening out, both Burt and Kurt had felt like they were betraying him. Kurt in particular had been furious, shrieking at the poor nurse that what she had done was inhumane. Burt, aware that she had only done her job, had apologised for his son's conduct, though the nurse was thankfully cooperative and understanding. Burt had promised Blaine quietly that they would return in the morning, even though the kid couldn't hear him, before dragging Kurt forcibly from the room, Carole at his heels.

That night they had all cried themselves to sleep, Kurt especially. When they returned in the morning, Blaine had apologised desperately for his behaviour and didn't seem to be able to process their consoling assurances that they didn't blame him. Instead, he was just more self-deprecating than ever. Burt and Kurt's hearts broke just a little more when the nurse on duty informed them that Blaine had woken up screaming on and off throughout the night; the sedation had not been just a one-time thing.

The nightmares did not stop, and the cycle just ran on and on. Doctor Carlton had told them that the best healer for Blaine's physical injuries was sleep, but although that had fully treated his fever, the terrible flashbacks the boy experienced whilst unconscious actually made him fear sleep. Kurt would whisper for long hours gentle words of encouragement to coax the younger boy into a half-decent slumber, and although Blaine tried to obey, his mind didn't seem to let him. Even if he did sleep, he would wake up hours later, crying out.

Physically, Blaine was very weak. Just about the only thing the teenager could stomach was water and even then he could barely hold his head up enough to take tiny sips from a plastic cup. The journey the poor boy had undertaken, wherever he had travelled from, had been exhausting and had almost wiped him out entirely. As Doctor Carlton had not-so-helpfully reminded them, Blaine had been hypothermic upon arrival at the hospital, looming dangerously towards pneumonia; had Carole not found the boy when she did, the cold October climate and his current state could have claimed his life. Both Hummel men didn't even want to think about that prospect so they just glared at the doctor until he shut his damn mouth.

Once Burt was granted temporary guardianship of Blaine, at least until Jonathan Anderson's whereabouts were discovered, or Cooper was found, a dietician came to explain to Blaine about his condition. Blaine was still pretty out of it, so eventually, she had ended up explaining the logistics of it to Burt and Carole. Carole, as a qualified healthcare professional, knew most of what the dietician discussed already, so between the two of them, they planned a careful diet for Blaine to follow. Having a BMI well below what was defined as healthy, the dietician recommended a gradual intake of proteins and carbohydrates. Burt had to be the one to remind them that the kid could barely drink let alone eat, so they started him off with something easy – a few crackers and some toast. During that first meal, even with Kurt's gentle urging, Blaine only managed one cracker out of three, and the toast was left untouched. About an hour later he had ended up vomiting it back up, which caused yet more tears and distressed apologies from Blaine. Carole had tried to reassure him that he wasn't used to eating much and so gradually, with more routine eating, he would get his appetite back on track. From the look on the look on the boy's face, Burt and Kurt weren't sure Blaine believed her.

When Blaine wasn't sleeping, crying or frantically apologising, he lay there quietly, a deadened look filling his once so-expressive hazel eyes. Kurt missed the way they used to glow amber when the younger boy grew enthusiastic about an idea, or the way he would develop crowfeet at the corner of his eyes when he laughed. Kurt tried his hardest to bring just a little of that joy back to the kid; regaling stories of school and past times to detract from the terrible circumstances, but it was clear that Blaine had experienced too many horrors to just go back. Burt saw that the younger boy tried as best he could to at least smile for his best friend. Even now, at least when he was conscious enough of his actions to do so, Blaine tried to protect Kurt from the truth. It was to no avail, of course; they all knew that Blaine was suffering.

No matter how brilliant his son had been throughout the ordeal, Burt could see that Blaine's unhappiness was seeping into Kurt as well, the two still connected by that invisible tether. If one was miserable, so was the other, as had been the circumstances since they were little. He could see how tired his son was but despite his own encouragements to sleep, the boy only did so when he absolutely had to or in other words, when he was dragged from the hospital by force. He had also noticed how Kurt's phone kept buzzing, but the pressing messages and calls from his son's friends went unanswered. Burt wondered if he should press Kurt about it, especially when the boy turned his phone off altogether, but he didn't feel that it was his place. Thankfully, the weekend had stretched in so Kurt didn't have to miss much more school due to his time at the hospital, but as Sunday came to an end, Burt knew it was his responsibility as a parent to make sure Kurt went back soon.

On Monday, following a final check-up by Carole, again, overseen by Doctor Carlton, because Blaine became panic-stricken at the mere sight of the man, Blaine was given the all-clear to go home with the Hummels. Burt had made sure that all had been sorted with Blaine's room at the house, much to Finn's chagrin. The boy had made it perfectly clear that he was unhappy sharing his already new home with a complete stranger, but this was something Burt and Kurt were not prepared to back down from.

Doctor Andrew's, Carlton's superior, had even dropped by Blaine's room once to check on matters as he had been the one who first saw to the boy when he was brought into the hospital, and Burt vaguely remembered Carole mentioning him that first day, even though the majority of those hours he could barely recall now. Thankfully, Blaine had been sleeping when Andrews visited so they didn't have the same recurring problem that they did with Carlton. He just talked to Burt briefly about Blaine needing to visit either the hospital or the out-patient clinic for a few regular check-ups concerning any potential STDs that may be discovered later, or from the tests they had already taken. It was also made clear that two conditions of Blaine being allowed to go home with them were that, with Carole being a nurse at the hospital anyway, she was to take over his physical recovery. Her job entailed helping him with washing until his cast was off, making sure the healing fissure didn't open any more or become infected, ensuring he ate the right amounts and just general care. It was a big pressure on his fiancé, but Burt felt overwhelmed with gratitude when Carole instantly volunteered herself.

The other condition was that once Blaine was settled, he was to make and participate in regular appointments with Doctor Summers to begin his mental and emotional road to recovery. At present, from just the short period that Summers had seen Blaine, she had diagnosed him as suffering from a relatively acute form of post-traumatic stress disorder, also enduring a psychosomatic belief that everything bad that happened was his fault. However, given a safe, loving home environment and the correct amount of time and nurture, Summers was optimistic Blaine would be able to overcome the disorder.

It was a mark of just how miserable Kurt had been, that when Burt suggested the boy go out to the mall to do a little clothes shopping for Blaine, just to give him some time away from the hospital, he steadfastly refused, opting to visit Blaine instead. For the moment, Blaine could borrow some of Kurt's clothes. Burt wasn't quite sure if he could imagine Blaine dressed in designer attire, at least to the degree Kurt exhibited, but the clothes the younger boy had been found in had been so filthy and bloody, they had been thrown away. Besides, given Blaine's state, Burt decided that the kid probably wouldn't care anyway.

So that was how both Burt and Kurt found themselves on a grey Tuesday morning – visiting Blaine in the hospital, thankfully for the last time, Kurt clutching a small bag of his own, plainer clothes for Blaine to travel home in. Seeing through the small window fitted to the door that Blaine was already awake, Burt knocked once before he and Kurt entered.

Kurt had made a mental note to himself to be as cheerful as possible around Blaine that day, even if he didn't feel particularly happy himself. He was aware that it would be very awkward for all of them, having Blaine coming to stay. Kurt feared Blaine might withdraw even further inside himself if put in a strange environment. Was it a strange environment, though? Blaine had been inside the Hummel household since he was five years old; he knew every nook and cranny of the place, having participated in frequent sleepovers, and it wasn't as if they had redecorated much over the years. All that had changed was that the two spare rooms, one of which used to be Kurt's nursery as a baby, had been fully painted and converted into Finn's room (which was now unrecognisable and vastly smellier), and the spare had been transformed into Blaine's new room.

Then again, Kurt was adjusting to being around Blaine again, and of course, Blaine was doing the same with all of them. Kurt just had to remind himself that it would be so much harder for Blaine than it was for him. Of course, he was glad to have his best friend back again; it was what he had wished for constantly for six years. However, Kurt had to admit to himself, because he would never voice his worries aloud, that in those six years Blaine had changed quite a lot. That wasn't to say Kurt didn't care about him, because he did, so much. After all, Blaine's gentleness and his care towards others were still blatantly present, even with the younger boy so broken. But Blaine just wasn't that bouncy, energetic, enthusiastic little kid anymore; the one who protected him without fail in the school yard. He was timid, subdued and terrified and… Kurt just wasn't sure how to handle it. It was like treading on eggshells; the slightest thing might upset Blaine and Kurt didn't want that at all.

So Kurt just plastered a smile over his face and prepared himself for the worst. However, as he stepped inside the room and took in the sight before him, he felt the corners of his mouth tug into a genuine smile. Blaine was no longer hooked up to any strange machines or that annoying saline drip and the feeding tube through his nose had been entirely removed. In fact, other than the fact that his skin retained a sickly pallor, he was unhealthily thin and that his arm was still wrapped in its solid cast, Kurt might actually have been able to believe Blaine was simply in his own bed.

The boy was curled up on his right side, mindful of his broken left arm, and probably avoiding the healing fissure which still made its presence known whenever he sat up, or put too much pressure on his backside. He had been staring into space, his eyes still blank and haunted, but thankfully tearless. He glanced up as they walked in.

"Hey, you!" Kurt greeted with as much cheer as he could muster, though thankfully, the image of Blaine being a little better added some oomph to the sentence.

Blaine gave a half-smile and slowly uncurled himself under the blankets, wincing as he measured his weight onto his bottom and then tried to haul himself into a sitting position. Kurt's instinct was to rush forward and help him, but he had been advised by his dad earlier not to smother Blaine too much. Summers had mentioned that whilst it was important for Blaine to realise he had love and support, he had to be allowed to feel as though he could retain some forms of dignity and independence, especially after the humiliating circumstances of the rape. So Kurt just watched, slowly approaching the bedside and occupying one of the chairs until his friend had finished.

"Hi, Kurt." Blaine replied softly, panting quietly against the pillows, tired just from the effort of sitting up. He hadn't been eating again, Kurt worried, otherwise Blaine would have more energy.

Still, he was glad that the younger boy seemed a little calmer than he had that first night they had tried to go home. Gradually, over the last few days, they had attempted to alleviate Blaine's fears of them abandoning him. The panic attacks had decreased and Kurt was happy that Blaine finally seemed to have figured out that they weren't going to leave him, or send him back to Jonathan. As if they would!

"Today's the day, kiddo!" Burt said, also in a cheery voice, plonking himself down next to Kurt. "Time to bust out of his joint and come home with us."

Kurt saw the anxiety and doubt in Blaine's eyes; the hesitance to intrude upon their lives rolled off Blaine's reticent form in massive, one hundred-foot waves.

"Don't even say it, Blaine." Kurt warned him, with more resolve in his voice than he felt considering he had barely slept the night before. "You're not a burden okay? We just want you to come home." He looked at the younger boy steadily, a small smile playing on his face. "I just want my best friend to come home."

Blaine looked so small and vulnerable as he glanced between the two Hummel men, as if trying to figure out if they were lying, or just being kind for the sake of it. Kurt wondered desperately when Blaine was going to realise that they actually really cared about him. Eventually, he just dropped his eyes to the mattress and nodded.

"Okay." The younger boy whispered his acquiescence.

Burt rubbed his hands together dramatically, "Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

He turned to Kurt who immediately got the message and bent down to pick up the plastic bag he had carted in with him. He untied it and began removing its contents. They weren't the most designer clothes he owned – just an old beige sweater and sweatpants. However, Burt had insisted on Blaine wearing the plainest clothes possible, especially since he was most likely going to be sick down them later on as he was still unable to keep food down. In terms of plain clothes, Finn was the most likely source to go to, but the jock had been a complete douche recently, refusing to give up some of his old clothes to a kid he didn't even know; a kid who was apparently 'taking over their lives'. Even though Finn's clothes would be massively too big for Blaine, as would his dad's, Kurt wasn't best pleased with his almost-stepbrother at the moment. He finished up by digging out a pair of boxers which he had never worn, some socks and a pair of old converses he had worn once for a glee club assignment.

"The clothes you arrived here in had to be thrown away, bud." His dad said to Blaine as gently as possible, as if fearing the news would upset him, but the boy didn't really react to this information; he just stared vacantly at Burt and then at the pile of clothes in Kurt's lap. "So Kurt's brought you some of his old stuff."

"I'm ashamed to say that these aren't very fashionable at all-" Kurt said in a falsely despairing voice, waving the clothes in the air, hoping it would draw a smile from Blaine. Even though they never got to attend middle school together, the place where Kurt really started adhering to the latest fashion trends, becoming an avid reader of Vogue, Blaine had of course always been aware of Kurt's obsession with clothes. He had constantly praised and enthused over Kurt's designs in his little notebooks when they were younger.

"-My doing." His dad interjected, raising a hand, as if admitting guiltily to something serious, though his eyes twinkled slightly as he added in a loud aside to Blaine. "Count yourself lucky, bud. You should have seen some of the things he was going to have you wear-"

"Hey!" Kurt bantered back with false indignation.

"-All this fancy Alice McGreen stuff-" Burt continued, gesturing to the McQueen scarf that Kurt was currently wearing, apparently enjoying his son's outrage.

"Alexander McQueen, dad." Kurt huffed exasperatedly.

He felt his heart lift when Blaine gave a small, fleeting smile as he watched the two Hummel men engage in a dose of good-natured banter. But sadly, it was gone within a matter of seconds.

"Th-They're great… thank you, Kurt." The younger boy whispered timidly, his eyes meeting Kurt's briefly to illustrate his sincerity, before his gaze dropped back down to the mattress.

Kurt didn't know why he felt so happy about Blaine's small input but his smile noticeably widened.

"They'll do for now, I suppose." He relented warmly. "But we have to go shopping soon to find you some real outfits."

To Kurt's horror, Blaine's face fell completely, his eyes quickly becoming panicked and frightened again.

"I… I c-couldn't repay you." He stuttered in a small, tight voice, barely above a whisper. His eyes were fixed on the bedclothes, as if fearing the older boy's reaction. "I… I can't… I h-haven't-"

Kurt could sense Blaine beginning to get upset again, and glanced desperately at his dad for help. He wanted to cry himself as he realised his mess-up. The very last thing he wanted to do was upset Blaine again, especially with him doing so well today. So he was very thankful when his dad interrupted soothingly:

"You don't need to repay anything, bud. Remember me telling you that when you first arrived here?"

"B-But-" Blaine tried to justify, his breathing accelerating as he began to panic.

"But nothing." Burt said firmly, in a tone that quite clearly forbade any arguments yet was gentle and reassuring. He nodded towards the clothes still piled high in Kurt's lap. "Come on, bud. Let's just get you home for now, eh?"

Blaine still looked doubtful and as downcast as ever, but he nodded silently. Kurt was prepared to bet the younger boy was only agreeing so that he didn't anger Burt. Kurt really wanted to drop the subject, so he didn't have the heart to convince Blaine otherwise. He could only hope that in time Blaine would learn that unlike his father, they wouldn't fly off the handle at him for the tiniest things.

Kurt reached forwards slowly, so as not to startle the other boy, and gently placed the items on the bed next to Blaine. He waited patiently with his dad for Blaine to say something or make any more towards getting dressed but he just continued to sit there, staring blankly at the pile.

Kurt tried to imagine what Blaine was thinking about right now. He had to admit that if he was the one in this situation, he would perhaps feel like a charity case – being given someone's old clothes and being taken in by a friend who hadn't seen him in six years. And then Kurt realised that after living on the streets for who knew how long, and even living with Jonathan Anderson, Blaine probably hadn't seen much kindness or a great deal of charity, so maybe the younger boy was just processing things.

All was silent for a few minutes. Kurt was glad his dad didn't push Blaine. They didn't after all, have any particular timescale in which to get Blaine and take him home. They could take things as easy and gradually as Blaine needed to.

It took a little while but slowly, ever so slowly, Blaine's hand edged along the mattress until his fingers were tentatively trailing along the hem of the jumper. This happened for a good few seconds, Blaine just tracing the material, almost reverently, as if generosity and compassion were behaviours he was unused to. Then, Kurt's heart almost broke and swelled all at the same time when the boy repeated in a whisper:

"Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt smiled genially, "You can keep them." He told the other boy tenderly, not knowing if he was pushing his luck.

Blaine looked a little panicky again. He opened his mouth and Kurt just knew he was going to refuse so he continued hastily:

"Really, Blaine. They're all too small for me now, anyway." In an attempt to be light-hearted, he added in an undertone: "My growth spurts just keep coming, you see."

It was true. Kurt had grown a lot since they last knew each other, as had Blaine. However, Kurt was quite clearly the taller of the two; he always had been, but he was prepared to bet that Blaine's malnourishment hadn't helped him grow at all. He was certainly small for his age.

Blaine was silent for a while longer before he hesitantly offered another brief smile and whisper of gratitude. Kurt decided that was as close to an affirmation of acceptance as he was going to get so he just smiled back and nodded.

The boy in the bed slowly lifted the first item from the pile into his lap: the boxers. He glanced towards them and then around the room, looking a little lost. Suddenly, both Kurt and Burt seemed to realise the potentially problematic situation here. Blaine had to get changed and he probably didn't want them here. He had already suffered enough humiliation from the rapist and from the frequent examinations of his lower body.

Kurt watched as his dad hovered uncertainly before rising from his seat.

"Shall I get a nurse to come and help you get changed, bud?" he offered, eyes roaming over the cast on Blaine's arm and the sluggish, painful way in which the boy moved, still clearly troubled by the fissure and other cuts and bruises.

Blaine's eyes widened and he shook his head wildly. Apparently he didn't want strange nurses helping him with such a personal, yet everyday task. Kurt didn't blame him. He also doubted Blaine wanted Doctor Carlton's help, so he was very glad his dad didn't even bother suggesting it. Kurt suddenly wished Carole had come with them today, but unfortunately, she had to go back to work today and she was scheduled to an entirely different area of the hospital. Blaine at least seemed to have grown moderately comfortable in Carole's presence, perhaps because she had been the one to see his injuries whilst he was at his most vulnerable, but unfortunately she wasn't an option today.

"You think you can do it yourself?" Burt asked Blaine softly, though he still looked a little apprehensive.

Blaine nodded slowly in response.

Sensing that they weren't going to get a verbal response out of Blaine for the moment, Kurt heard his dad ask in preparation for another nod or shake answer.

"Do you want us to wait outside? Give you a little privacy."

Blaine looked almost pained at the thought, but he didn't give an immediate response. He just sat there anxiously.

"You want us to help you?" Burt questioned patiently.

Again, Blaine just sat there, looking scared to actually articulate his own opinion. Kurt didn't know how he understood, but he did.

"How about we just turn away?" he suggested gently. "That way, if you need help… well… we can help you."

He felt a rush of gladness when Blaine responded this time with a small, but clear nod.

So both Hummel men turned, somewhat awkwardly, to face the wall, giving Blaine his own privacy and independence. For a minute or so, they heard nothing. The boy did not seem to make any movements at all and it took all of Kurt's restraint not to look around curiously, but he guessed what Blaine was doing. He suspected that the teenager was either giving himself a minute to work up to the strenuous task of moving, whilst his limps were still stiff and underused after residing in a hospital bed for the last few days, or he was afraid of them turning around after all. Blaine clearly had a lot of trust issues after all he had been through and Kurt felt unbelievably sad at the thought of Blaine not trusting him. They had always trusted each other implicitly. Again, he was reminded just how long a time period six years was.

However, a while later, the sound of rustling sheets became audible, as if Blaine was easing himself towards the edge of the mattress. Kurt winced as he heard a sequence of small whimpers being elicited from his best friend's efforts, and he was sure he saw his dad have a similar reaction beside him. He didn't know how long they waited but Kurt was sure it was bordering on half an hour or so, all the while listening to Blaine's heart-wrenching hisses and whimpers of pain. By the time Kurt heard a very strangled, yet distinguishable sob, as if Blaine was actually attempting to conceal his struggles from them, Kurt had had enough.

"Blaine, are you okay?" he asked softly.

The sound of frantic rustling stopped altogether, replaced by quiet sniffs.

"Blaine?" His dad prompted in a tone worried. "You okay, buddy?"

No reply sounded from Blaine's direction, so Kurt took it as his cue to turn around again, his dad immediately following. And then his heart really broke.

Blaine was sitting, crumpled and broken at the edge of the bed, tears running silently down his cheeks as he cried as quietly as he could manage. He had successfully slipped on the boxers and sweatpants, and had managed to remove his good arm from the frustrating, flimsy hospital gown sleeve, however the thin cloth had twisted as he couldn't really move his left arm, so he was stuck. Kurt blinked back his own tears, determined to stay strong for his friend who just looked so devastatingly helpless in that moment, and walked back towards him.

"Oh, sweetie." He murmured.

Blaine must have realised that he been found out now because he suddenly released a loud sob, as if he had been holding it in for all that length of time. Kurt sat down opposite him and reached up to tenderly wipe away any excess tears with the pad of his thumb.

"It's okay." He whispered comfortingly, when the other boy looked down, an expression of shame and mortification darkening his features, not unlike the first time he had been sick that second afternoon.

Burt placed a gentle hand on Blaine's shoulder, an action which Kurt was pleased Blaine didn't flinch away from. "It's okay to ask for help, bud. That's why we're still in the room, remember?"

Blaine didn't respond immediately but a few seconds later he choked out another sob, whispering to himself in a berating tone, "U-Useless."

"What?" Kurt crooned softly, claiming Blaine's good hand, just as he had done all week when the boy was upset.

Blaine couldn't seem to bear to look up, so he just mumbled ashamedly to the floor, "I-I'm… u-useless."

"No you're not." Kurt argued firmly. "You're not, Blaine."

"I am." Blaine sniffed back, his gaze still resolutely on the floor. "He always s-says I'm u-useless. H-He's right. He's always b-b-been right."

Neither Hummel even needed to ask who 'he' was. Jonathan bloody Anderson. Of course it was.

"No, Blaine." Burt contended strongly. "He's wrong. You're not useless."

Blaine shook his head slowly in disbelief, deaf to their arguments. He had stopped crying – thankfully, these tears had only been momentary, induced by frustration and a feeling of complete hopelessness – but the horrible, deadened, blank expression had returned. Kurt was beginning to think he preferred the constant waves of emotion.

"I can't even dress myself." Blaine whispered by way of justification.

"You've been hurt. Badly." Kurt watched as his dad gently tried to reason with the shattered boy. "Your arm's broken, you're exhausted, your whole body's hurting… and so for a while, you're going to need some help to do things. But that won't last forever." Burt promised, and Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand to emphasise the fact. "But until you're better, buddy, you're going to need that help. And it's okay to ask for it, you know. We're not going to get mad at you for that."

They had been reiterating to the younger boy all week that they weren't going to lose their temper with him for tiny things, but Blaine still didn't seem to have grasped that. It was going to be a long road with a lot of repetitive phrases. He saw a double meaning in his dad's words about Blaine getting better. Physically, his injuries were temporary and would heal quickly given the right treatment, but emotionally… Kurt had a horrible feeling it was going to take Blaine a long, long time to recover mentally from… everything.

"And needing help doesn't make you useless, Blaine." Kurt added, his dad nodding along with him.

"Exactly." Burt agreed.

Blaine did not say anything this time. He was silent. Kurt hoped he was at least absorbing their words.

"Let me help you get this awful thing off, eh?" Burt asked eventually, indicating the flimsy gown.

Blaine raised his head slowly, eyes meeting Kurt's, as if searching for some help or reassurance. Kurt smiled encouragingly, nodding his head and realising all at once that actually, Blaine seemed to trust him after all. His reaction seemed to be enough for the younger boy, because seconds later, albeit hesitantly, Blaine nodded his consent.

Burt frowned slightly, as if trying to figure out the best way in which to go about such a task. Finally he suggested that Blaine turn around to at least give him some form of privacy and he would slip the article off from the back.

For a few moments, Kurt thought he saw yet more panic fire up in Blaine's blank expression, yet he relented after a couple of beats. Obeying Burt's instructions, he turned around agonisingly slowly, releasing Kurt's hand as he did so. Kurt observed as his dad worked carefully with the cheap, twisted fabric, inching it up Blaine's body bit by bit. Each time he did, Kurt saw that Blaine tensed up a little more, and even though he couldn't see his friend's face, he was sure he was wincing. Finally, Burt managed to slip the whole gown up and over Blaine's head, finishing with easing the broken arm out of the remaining sleeve.

It was then that the entirety of Blaine's back was revealed. Kurt couldn't stop himself from gasping.

Aside from the obvious fact that Blaine was so thin, he could see the boy's bones, a large proportion of Blaine's back was layered with bruises and scars of different sizes and depths; some thick and deep, others barely scratching the surface of the skin, but all of them pink and painful-looking. There was one particular jagged cut that looked about a year old, ranging from the right side of the back, expanding past his ribs and onto Blaine's front, which was hidden from view. Kurt didn't know what the story was behind that one, but he had seen scars quite similar the others before, in the bathrooms back at elementary school, when Blaine had first admitted to his father beating him with a belt. But these… these were more than just a few hits to reprimand a person, not that that was okay either. These were brutal – savage even, and made for one purpose: to cause absolute pain.

Kurt clapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself from sobbing out his anguish. He realised that Carole must have seen this when examining the tear, but she hadn't said anything. She was probably respecting Blaine's already depleting dignity. He wished she had told them though because at least a heads-up could have prepared him for such a sight. Kurt glanced up at his dad to see a look of pure, unadulterated rage. The gown had been placed on the bed and both Hummel men were now staring in utter horror at the damage before them. Kurt didn't know much about the recovery time of scars, but he was almost certain that many of them would never heal. The traumatized boy would have to carry some of these wounds for the rest of his life.

Blaine did not turn around. Even when facing the opposite way, his head seemed to be bowed towards the floor, like knew what they had discovered and thought it was he who should to be ashamed; as if he had resigned himself to that fate when he let them help him. Kurt wished he could do something, say anything to let Blaine know that this wasn't his fault; that he didn't deserve any of this, but he knew that if he spoke, he would start crying. And that would just set Blaine off again.

"It's alright, buddy." Burt growled fiercely, though they all knew his anger was not directed at Blaine but at that the monster who had done this. He picked up the beige jumper and began pulling it gently over the boy's head. "He's not going to hurt you again. No one's ever going to hurt you again."

Kurt found himself biting his lip to prevent more threatening tears upon hearing the fierce protectiveness in his dad's voice. He didn't think he had ever been so thankful to have Burt Hummel as his father. He had been the lucky one. He been blessed with the good father; the wonderful dad who loved and cared about him unconditionally; who let him naively grow up aware of, but away from danger. He and Blaine had been so similar when they were younger, having the same interests, hopes and dreams, and yet… their worlds had been so vastly apart.

His dad finally succeeded in securing Blaine inside the jumper, leaving the left sleeve up to avoid coming into contact with the arm cast. He watched silently as his dad coaxed Blaine into sitting back down on the bed before slipping on the socks and converses. The younger boy followed every instruction without question, his face emotionless and looking anywhere but at Kurt.

"There we go." Burt stated, tying a concluding bow across the last shoe. "All done."

Kurt tried not to think about the fact that the last time he had seen his dad tying someone's shoelaces was when his mom was dying and couldn't do anything for herself. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Blaine wasn't going to die. He was hurt but he wasn't dying.

Burt clambered up from his crouching position, stretching his obviously aching back before surveying the smaller boy. Blaine didn't look back, his gaze still on his fastened shoes.

"How are you for walking?" he asked the kid with a sigh. "You up to it?"

Not much in Blaine's expression changed, but Kurt thought he sensed a slight spark of determination in the boy's eyes as he nodded.

"Okay, then." Burt replied, though with a little trepidation. Blaine seemed to be pushing himself too hard to do things he wasn't physically able to do just yet.

They watched as Blaine got to his feet, flinching as his backside came into contact with the mattress. Kurt wanted to reach out to steady him, but he also didn't want to crowd his friend so he kept within an arms distance, ready to catch him if he fell. It turned out that this was rightfully needed because following a few tentative baby steps on visibly shaky legs that hadn't been used in less than a week, Blaine's knees buckled and Kurt was the first to reach him.

Kurt knew he wasn't very strong but it was sheer adrenaline and willpower that managed to keep Blaine upright against him before the boy fell, an arm wrapped firmly around his friend's waist until he could manoeuvre him back to the bed. Blaine sat back down with a slump and an expression of devastation written across his face. Kurt dreaded to think what the setback had done to his already fragile morale.

"It's okay." Kurt murmured, rubbing Blaine's forearm soothingly when he felt his friend inhale and exhale several fast, shaky breaths, as if he was trying not to cry again. "It's okay."

"Your muscles just need practice again." Burt explained kindly. "You walked for so long and then to do virtually no exercise for days, with all these meds flowing through you… your body just wants time to catch up. It'll help when you've got food down you as well."

Blaine didn't respond this time. He just retreated into himself, staring impassively at the floor.

Kurt glanced concernedly at his father who just sighed and jerked his head towards the door, "I'll be back in minute."

Sure enough, Burt retreated from the room for a while, leaving a strained silence between the two boys. Kurt tried looking at Blaine in the eye to offer some bland reassurance but his friend, again, seemed too immersed in the floor.

He suddenly became aware that he was still rubbing Blaine's forearm, even though the boy seemed to have calmed slightly, or at least, to outward appearances. Needing to offer at least some small comfort, he stopped rubbing, reaching for Blaine's hand instead and squeezing it gently. Kurt was pleasantly surprised when the younger boy did not pull away as he had expected; even more so when Blaine actually squeezed back. The gesture was shy and a little uncertain, but Kurt would take what communication he could get right now. At least he wasn't shutting him out. He wondered if Blaine knew that in responding, the younger boy had actually made Kurt feel a little better.

About a minute later, his dad returned with a hospital wheelchair.

"Your carriage awaits, my good sir." Burt said jokingly, looking at Blaine expectantly.

Kurt squeezed his friend's hand once more, just to make sure he wouldn't get worked up again. The action had the desired effect and a few minutes later, Blaine was settled into the wheelchair, with only a few winces of pain along the way.

They wheeled him out towards the reception, Burt at the head, so that he could fill out the necessary paperwork to sign Blaine out and receive the correct medication. A nurse subordinate to Doctor Carlton was thankfully on the desk and was extremely efficient in indicating to Burt what to do, and what needed signing along which line. Doctor Carlton himself appeared briefly to hand off the prescription, a tube of ointment for Blaine's tear and to annoyingly reiterate what the nurse had already told them. Kurt was a little surprised that Blaine did not flinch away from Carlton as he had throughout his stay and was just in the process of thinking that maybe things were getting better after all, when he realised that Blaine hadn't actually noticed the doctor. He was instead staring at something further up the corridor with an expression he couldn't quite work out. It was as if an array of different emotions were playing in the younger boy's head and he couldn't quite focus in on one of them.

Kurt followed Blaine's line of vision. Standing in the middle of the corridor were a young couple, perhaps in their late twenties, each occupying a child. The man was carefully clutching the hand of a little boy, a toddler who couldn't be more than three or four years old, presumably to prevent him from running off. This wasn't necessary however, because both males seemed completely enraptured by what the mother was cradling: a tiny baby – most probably a new-born – dressed in a typical, but nevertheless cute, pink jumpsuit and bobbly hat; smothered in a blanket. The toddler was clamouring to reach up to see the baby, hence the father lifted him up onto his shoulders so that the boy could cautiously prod at the little bundle. Giggling softly, the mother planted a wet kiss on the little boy's cheek and then she and the father shared a tender moment as well. Just as a tiny hand was emerging from the bundle, which of course had the family cooing in delight, Kurt heard his dad's voice from somewhere next to him.

"Ready to go?" the mechanic asked both boys, tucking folded paperwork into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Kurt smiled slightly at the adorable couple before nodding. When he looked down at Blaine, the boy's eyes were still firmly fixed on the family, and Kurt thought he sensed something akin to longing in them. The contrast of it all was awful now that Kurt considered it. This couple, obviously fresh from the maternity ward, were bringing home a new life; it was a perfectly happy occasion and probably one of the best days of their lives… and Blaine was going through hell. No wonder Blaine seemed to be longing for that love; that intimacy and care from a family. He had never had that. He placed a gentle hand on his friends arm, effectively startling Blaine out of his thoughts.

"Ready to go, sweetie?" Kurt asked him quietly.

Blaine took one last look at the happy family before nodding silently. As the three of them made their way down the corridor, towards the lift, Kurt saw that Blaine kept his eyes on the family for as long as they were in sight.

So I hope that wasn't disappointing. I promise there's a method to my madness and some of the stuff in this chapter is essential to revelations later on. Next up: Blaine's finally home and trying to get used to things, Finn's reaction to Blaine (three guesses how that'll turn out), and Kurt finally contacts his friends after pretty much ignoring them to be with Blaine. Then there'll probably be another chapter and then maybe another short time jump to keep things moving. I'll try and update asap. Please review :)