This was written for a prompt over at the Glee Angst Meme. This is my disclaimer saying I own absolutely nothing. And also, I love Burt Hummel, but I needed to write this, the prompt begged for me to. So yeah, this is pretty AU, just go with it.

Kurt didn't mean to leave his stuff all over the kitchen for his dad to find.

Honestly, he didn't.

It's just that after a long day filled with a torrential downpour, a surprise calculus exam, three essays all happening to be due the next week and an extended Warblers meeting, Kurt was exhausted. He placed his keys and cellphone onto the kitchen table before dropping his messenger bag on the floor and quickly took off his coat and blazer, just slinging them over a kitchen chair. I'll come back down and get it all before he gets home, no big deal Kurt told himself as he dragged his exhausted body up the stairs and to his bedroom. He didn't even bother to kick off his shoes, just loosened his tie and collapsed onto his bed, eyes shutting instantly.

"What the fuck, Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes snapped open and his heart plummeted as he looked over at the clock on his nightstand, the numbers 6:37 blinking back harshly. oh god. Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck Kurt thought to himself as he scrambled to get off of his bed and out of his room, flying down the stairs. He skidded to a stop at the entryway of the kitchen and prepared himself for the ranting of his life.

Life in the Hummel household hadn't been all that great ever since Kurt had started going to Dalton Academy. He had cost Burt and Carole their honeymoon and was the reason that they were now slowly but surely falling into debt. At first they were getting by, more or less, but as the months progressed, things just got worse.

The stress from bills had almost landed Burt back in the hospital and so Finn decided to get a part-time job since the football season was over. Kurt had wanted to do the same, but Finn told him to not worry, that he should just go to Dalton and make good use of all the money being spent on him and his new education. That was almost a month ago.

Recently, Burt had gotten so mad one day that he decided to blow up at the first person available- Finn. Carole didn't take too well to Burt yelling at her son and had decided to spend a few days with a friend while Finn alternated between Puck's house and Artie's. That was almost a week ago.

Every day since Carole left, Burt had been a ticking time bomb and Kurt was all but walking on eggshells. He hated to even think it, but he was honestly starting to get scared of his dad. His dad, for Christ's sake. So their current situation wasn't helping any at all.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I—"

"What? You think that now that you go to some fancy school you're suddenly going to have maid service?"

Kurt walked into the kitchen and towards his father slowly, hands up placatingly, "No, I just…it was a long day and I went upstairs to sleep. I was going to come back down and get it before you—"

"Before I what, Kurt? Found your damn mess all over the kitchen like a five year old's?" Burt's voice got progressively louder, angrier and Kurt was really trying to just get a handle on everything.

"Dad, seriously, I'm sorry, next time—"

"Fuck the next time, Kurt. I'm so sick of all this bullshit I have to deal with because of you!" Burt yelled loudly.

Kurt stayed silent, head down, arms dropping to his sides, hands minutely shaking.

"You think I like this shit? Having to deal with people harassing us because of you, having to fucking give up my honeymoon just so people would leave you alone? My fucking marriage is already crumbling and it's because you're a weak fucking fag who just couldn't stand up to his bullies!" Burt was full-on screaming now, face turning red and…hate in his eyes.

Kurt was pretty sure he stopped breathing when his father called him a…he couldn't even finish the sentence in his head.

He didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream or throw up.

In the end he did neither, he simply whispered two words, "Fuck you."

Burt, who was still standing by all of Kurt's things, now stepped forward, "Excuse me?"

Kurt raised his head to stare into his father's eyes as the man got closer. "You heard me, dad. ." He had more to say, was ready to rant on and on at his father about what he had said and how the whole situation was spiraling out of control, but then suddenly his father's fist was colliding with his face and suddenly he was tasting blood and seeing stars. He legs gave way and he landed hard on the tiled floor, for sure he was going to have a bruise in the morning.

"See, even now you can't even fight back, you fucking pansy."

Kurt thought about fighting back, he did, but then Burt was in his face, and gripping his arm tightly, pulling him up despite Kurt's pained cries.

"You're fucking pathetic and I wish that you weren't my son. I wish I had someone normal to calm my own!" Burt's grip on his arm was borderline agonizing.

"Get off of me!" Kurt yelled before he was promptly being shoved into the refrigerator behind him, various magnets cutting sharply into his back. It was then Kurt realized that he had to get away.

Before Burt could make another move, Kurt was ducking past him and making a beeline towards the front door. Burt grabbed at the shirt material at Kurt's wrist and yanked him back, the button ripping off of the shirt and across the kitchen as Burt pulled him back, slamming him against a wall.

Kurt heard a crack of glass as his impact broke a picture frame.

The picture frame that held the last photo Kurt ever took with both his mom and his dad together.

"What, you think you're going to fucking run away? That's all you're good at huh, running away. You can't fucking stand up for yourself, ever. You're worthless."

Kurt held his ground but didn't say a word, which obviously just pissed Burt off more since he then slammed his hand inches away from Kurt's face against the wall, his other shoving Kurt harder up against the wall, the sharp wooden edges of the picture frame starting to really hurt his back.

And that's when he snapped. Kurt used the wall as leverage and pushed off with his foot, shoving Burt away as hard as he could with both hands, making him lose his balance, giving Kurt just enough time to get to the door to wrench it open, stumbling down his front lawn and down the street.

"Kurt! Get back here, where the fuck do you think you're going?" Burt yelled at him angrily, starting his way down the lawn, but he was being drowned out by the pouring rain and Kurt just kept running.

It wasn't until more than 20 blocks later that Kurt realized what he had just done. He doubled over on the sidewalk and planted his hands on his knees, gasping for air and praying to a god that he didn't believe in that he wouldn't keel over right there in someone's hydrangea bush. He looked up and around before patting his pockets only to realize that, fuck he had left his cell phone.

He had left everything.

The lump in his throat was growing by the second and he bit down on his cheek so hard he tasted blood. He was not going to do this. Not here in the middle of nowhere soaking wet. No way, no how.

He decided to just keep jogging up the unfamiliar streets, letting fate chose which was to turn down each road. It seemed he made the right idea when, after another 15 minutes, he saw a small mini mall (more of a smattering of random stores) and two pay phones next to them.

He ran over to them and pulled out the five quarters he still had in his pocket from lunch that afternoon –thank God he didn't change my pants – and shoved them all into the machine. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was pushing numbers and was waiting for the dial tone, looking around calmly, trying not to look like a kid who just ran away from home.

After four rings he heard a confused, "Hello?" and all of his composure went out the fucking window.

"B-Blaine?" He whispered, throat suddenly closing up on him and he didn't know if it was tears or rain drops continuously falling down his face.

"Kurt? Oh my g—are you okay? Where are you?"

Kurt shook his head but then realized that, duh, he was on the phone, and Blaine was yelling his name again.

"I-I…I don't know. I don't know where I am and I just, I didn't know who else t-to call and I don't—"

"Kurt, it's okay, just…I'm coming to find you, can you look around, maybe try and see if you can find a street sign?"

Kurt nodded but then realized again, phone, and he strained his eyes to look at the street sign hanging on the corner. "It's um…Hanger. Hanger Avenue. I'm next to some mini mall…"

Blaine typed the street into MapQuest and was glad to find that only two hits came up for Ohio. He was shocked to see it was almost an hour away from Lima, but that meant it was an hour closer to where he was in Westerville, so he grabbed his keys and left without saying anything.

"Talk to me, Kurt, what happened?"

Kurt didn't answer; he just sat down next to the pay phone and hugged his knees to his chest, the phone clutched tightly to his ear.

Blaine was worried that the line had dropped but he could still hear the pounding rain on the other end and the hitched breaths of the other boy.

"Okay, you don't have to tell me, just stay on the line with me, okay? Please?"

Blaine heard a muffled 'mhm' and took it as a sign of agreement as he sped down the roads, a million and one scenarios racing through his head, each one worse than the last.

MapQuest said it would take 57 minutes to get to where Kurt was. Blaine got there in under 40.

Blaine squinted through the rain to see four small stores next to each other and then at the far end he saw the payphones…and Kurt. Kurt sitting on the ground in the rain curled into himself as much as possible.

Blaine dropped his phone (he stayed on the line with Kurt the whole drive, every now and then saying noncommittal things like "I'm almost there" and "Just hang tight") threw the car door open and torn across the small parking lot.

"Kurt. Kurt!" Blaine yelled the closer he got, dropping to his knees in a puddle next to the other boy and wrenched the phone out of Kurt's grip before pulling him in tightly, wrapping his arms around Kurt's shaking frame.

Kurt didn't make a move at all, just sat curled in a ball while Blaine hugged him.

Blaine pulled back and placed both of his hands on either side of his face to make him look up. Kurt's eyes were bloodshot but his face was pale, lips tinged from the cold. Blaine noticed the split lip faint bruise already forming on the side of Kurt's face and he needed to force himself to keep his anger in check.

"C'mon." Blaine said aloud before grabbing Kurt's forearm to help him stand. Kurt cried out in pain, his first real response since Blaine found him, and Blaine dropped his arm immediately, guilt filling his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Here." He said, placing out his hand for Kurt to take. He wasn't sure Kurt was going to react, but then the boy slipped his ice cold fingers into Blaine's and Blaine helped pull him up and usher him to his car.

Blaine instantly regretted not keeping a blanket in the trunk as he got into the driver's seat so he opted for putting the heat on blast, facing all of the vents towards Kurt.

Before he could pull his hand away and place it back on the wheel, Kurt reached forward and grabbed it, twining his fingers with Blaine's almost painfully. Blaine squeezed his fingers back as he drove back home, trying to focus on the road and not the constant shivers coming from his boyfriend.

His boyfriend who was hurt and terrified and obviously shutting down on him and he had no idea what to fucking do.

He knew one thing though: whoever was responsible for this was going to pay.

Blaine had gotten back home in just under an hour, reading the clock on the dashboard that showed it was almost 9:30. Blaine realized that his parent's hadn't ever even met Kurt yet, let alone that Kurt had never been to his house, but he didn't care. Both of his lives were about to collide.

"Let's get you inside, warm." Blaine said quietly, squeezing Kurt's fingers gently before untangling his hand from Kurt's and getting out to open Kurt's door, grateful that the rain had finally let up and it was now just an annoyingly persistent drizzle.

Kurt thankfully took his hand again and followed without question as Blaine locked his car and led Kurt up the stairs, unlocking the front door and heading inside of the blissfully warm house.

"Blaine Anderson, where the hell did you go?" Blaine heard Kurt's breath hitch and noticed how stiff he suddenly got, fingers clenching almost painfully around Blaine's.

Blaine scrunched his face in confusion before shaking his head slightly, looking over at the kitchen where the yell came from, "Sorry dad, had something to take care of. Hey um…can you come and mom come here a sec?"

Blaine ran his thumb back and forth over Kurt's hand in an attempt to calm him as his parents came out of the kitchen, their looks of disapproval changing into shock and concern as they took in the appearance of the two boys in the foyer.

"Blaine, honey, what…who is this?"

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand gently before answering, "Mom, Dad, this…this is my…boyfriend, Kurt."

Kurt, who was basically hiding behind Blaine up until then, shuffled forward, closer to Blaine, and Mrs. Anderson gasped when she got a good look at the younger boy.

"Oh God, James, go and get some towels for them both, quickly!" Mrs. Anderson told Blaine's dad, who nodded and walked back down the hall, disappearing quickly before coming back with two warm, dry towels. Blaine took his and instead draped it over Kurt, wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulders and rubbing gently, steering clear of where he grabbed Kurt earlier.

"Look um…can we…talk later, please?" Blaine all but begged his parents, wanting nothing more than to get Kurt dry and make sure he's okay.

Blaine's mother nodded and Blaine all but carried Kurt up the stairs and towards the bathroom.
"Shower first; I'm already terrified that you're gunna get pneumonia." Blaine told him quietly, turning on the shower and letting the steam fill up the room before reaching around Kurt to take the towels off of his shoulders. He was surprised when Kurt moved forward and rested his forehead on his shoulder, but Blaine just dropped the towels and wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck, hugging him tightly. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's middle and turned his head on Blaine's shoulder, lips next to his ear. "Don't leave me, please." Kurt whispered, and it was all Blaine could do to not break down right there.

He held himself together and nodded, breaking away to lock the bathroom door before turning around and facing Kurt again, pulling his damp hoodie up and over his head, throwing his t-shirt down with it to make a clothes pile. He just now realized that Kurt was still in his school uniform and his stomach knotted. Not even six hours ago, they were singing and goofing off in the Warblers practice room, smiling and laughing as the guys all took turns to show off their most ridiculous dance moves.

Blaine minutely shook his head to free himself of the memory before reading over to gently loosen Kurt's tie more, pulling it up and over his head before beginning to work the buttons of his oxford shirt out of their holes, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the ground.

His eyes zeroed in on the angry red marks on his right arm but Blaine just clenched his jaw and looked away. They both kicked off their shoes without bothering with the laces before working off their pants (jeans in Blaine's case) and briefs.

Kurt and Blaine had been dating for a few months, but they hadn't really done much. Not that they didn't want to, they just both decided that since it was the first honest to God relationship for the both of them, they wanted to go slow. Neither of them had seen the other completely naked, but right now sex was the farthest thing from Blaine's mind as he helped Kurt into the shower.

Kurt hissed as the hot water hit his back and Blaine quickly rearranged them so he had his back to the spray. Without being asked, Kurt turned around to let Blaine see. Kurt had various small red marks on his back and growing purple bruise above his left elbow, his entire right forearm blotchy red.

Blaine reached out and gently ghosted his fingers over some of the bruising before grabbing Kurt's shoulder to spin him around so they were face to face. Without a word, Kurt took one step forward and launched himself into Blaine's arms, both boys now directly under the spray of hot water as Kurt let himself go.

Kurt had his arms wrapped tightly around Blaine's neck, clinging to him like a lifeline and Blaine held him back as tightly as he could while still minding the bruises. Sobs wracked Kurt's body so hard Blaine could feel it in his own body, his skin, his bones. Kurt being like this shook Blaine to his very fucking core and he had no idea what to do but to try and hold Kurt together while all he obviously wanted to do was fall apart.

It took Blaine a little over an hour to get them to finish showering and both dressed (and really, Blaine must be the worst person on the planet to even think of how hot it was that Kurt was in his clothes right now) and to his bedroom. He glanced over at the clock to see it was almost 11 and decided that they both were staying home tomorrow. Nothing was said as both boys laid on the bed, Kurt using Blaine's left arm as a pillow.

They stayed silent for a long time, just holding each other and silently communicating through their gazes before Kurt took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "It was my dad."

A million scenarios had played through Blaine's head for the past few hours, ranging from Karofsky following him home to someone seeing the Dalton uniform and instantly thinking Kurt's family had money.

But none of them, not one, ever included Burt Hummel.

"Kurt…what?" Yeah, he was totally being one with words right now.

Kurt opened his eyes to face Blaine, but they were different, out of focus, like Kurt was on autopilot as everything in him was shutting down.

"He…We um…well I…ever since I-I started going to Dalton…things haven't been too…too good at home." Kurt's voice was monotone, like a rehearsed speech being told for the 100th time.

"A uh, a few days ago, dad and Carole got…got into a huge fight and Carole said she was staying with a friend for a while. Since then, dad's just been…different. He snapped at everything and would try to pick fights, would get pissed off when I wouldn't argue back."

"Today…today when I got home from school I was really tired, s-so I just left all my crap in the kitchen and…and went to sleep. I was so sure I would be awake before he got home! I had it all planned out so everything would be clean and perfect for him when he got home! But then stupid fucking me had to go a-and over sleep and he got home and saw the mess and …and freaked out and I just—"

Kurt was starting to ramble. During his explanations, Blaine had reached over to his free hand and grabbed his wrist, gently rubbing circles on it as Kurt spoke. But now Blaine could feel how fast his pulse was going, could hear the hitches in the other boy's breathing and knew they were moments away from a complete shut down or a total melt down. Either way, Blaine was fucking scared.

"He uh…we started arguing…well, he started yelling at me, and…" Kurt cut himself off. Blaine didn't miss the tremors that began to move through the other boy's body, or the way his eyes got distant, like he was mentally removing himself from the situation.

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt's forehead before leaning against it with his own, getting as close as possible to Kurt, willing the other boy to stay with him in that moment.

"Kurt?"

"…He called me a fag."

And just like that, Blaine went from comforting his boyfriend to seeing red.

Blaine was also pretty sure he stopped breathing. He just…he couldn't believe what Kurt had just said. At all. There was a ringing in his ears and he almost missed that Kurt was still talking.

"I-I told him 'fuck you' and then the…the next thing I know, I'm on the ground. He-he punched me and I fell…grabbed me by my arm and threw me into the fridge. I-I tried to get away but he stopped me, slammed me into…into the last family photo we had, cracked the glass in it. He tried to stop me from running, but I managed to pull him off me and I ran. I just…I had to get out."

Kurt kept speaking, his eyes now glossing over with tears that he refused to let fall. Blaine realized that if Kurt didn't say it all now, he never would. "He said I was worthless and pathetic…n-nothing. That he wished I was never his son."

Kurt screwed his eyes shut, causing the tears to finally fall. Blaine didn't notice his own tears as he pulled Kurt to him and held him as he cried onto his chest, his fingers gripping hard onto Blaine's t-shirt.

Blaine didn't know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up and tangled in each other so closely that it was hard to tell where one boy ended and the other began.

He was thankful that Kurt had cried himself to sleep, the day's events finally catching up to him and mercifully giving Kurt a few hours of peace. Blaine allowed himself to close his eyes and drift off to sleep, vowing to himself that he'd do anything he could to protect Kurt.

Blaine's eyes snapped open when he something woke him from his sleep. His arms tightened protectively around the boy that was sleeping on top of him when he looked across the room and to the disturbance- his mother carefully opening the door and peaking inside. Blaine almost expected her to walk right over wake Kurt up, upset that he spent the night in bed with another boy, but instead she looked them both over with sad but accepting eyes. She nodded her head towards the hallway before leaving the room.

Here we go… Blaine thought to himself before slowly disentangling himself from Kurt, carefully getting up without waking him. Kurt snuggled into Blaine's pillow and sighed in his sleep. Blaine smiled slightly before turning to go downstairs.

Mrs. Anderson had a mug of coffee waiting for him at the table and he gladly accepted it, sitting across from her and wrapping his hands around the hot cup, reveling in it.

"So…care to fill me in?"

Blaine stared into his cup for a while before looking up into his mother's eyes, "I-I can't tell you everything, it's not my business to tell. But I can tell you that Kurt is someone I care about…a lot. And right now he needs me."

Mrs. Anderson tucked a strand of her brown wavy hair behind her ear before nodding. Blaine didn't have to say it, she could tell how much the other boy meant to her son, and how far he was willing to go to take care of him.

"He goes to your school?"

"Yeah. He just transferred a few months back…He lives in Lima."

"He commutes that every day? Why on Earth would someone go that far just for school?"

Blaine ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was, before shaking his head. "He um…Kurt, his old school, he couldn't go there anymore." Blaine's eyes searched his mother's, silently begging for her to realize what Blaine wasn't saying. He sees the moment understanding flashes through her eyes.

"This happened to him…at his old school? He went there yesterday?"

Blaine shook his head again, keeping his eyes down, staring at his coffee again. He didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it totally real, concrete, that the one person in the world that was supposed to protect Kurt was the person that did this to him. Blaine didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream.

Mrs. Anderson regarded her son and how he was acting before clicking all the pieces into place herself, a horrified look crossing her face before determination settled in its place.
"He can stay here."

Blaine's head shot up, eyes wide. "Wh—really?"

She nodded before standing and rounding the table, wrapping her arms around her son's shoulders. "Looks like I did a good job with you, huh?"

Blaine smiled up at her, holding her arm around his neck. He then stood to face her, "I have something I need to do. I shouldn't be gone long. Tell Kurt not to worry and I'll be back soon, kay?" Without waiting for a reply, Blaine ran back to his room, grabbed his sneakers and a hoodie and tore out of the house.

Blaine stared at the house through his windshield, heart racing but mind determined. He shut off the car and walked up the porch, knocking on the door. After knocking three more time, Blaine tried the knob and was shocked to see it was unlocked. He walked inside tried to stem the anger that suddenly filled him.

There was shattered glass in the hallway, Blaine saw the picture frame hanging on the wall was skewed, chunks of glass still in the frame. Blaine looked down the hall and saw a few beer bottles on the living room table, remote on the floor.

He sidestepped the glass and made his way into the kitchen, glancing at the refrigerator, seeing the magnets splayed about it all over, a few even on the ground. There were bottles of various liquors on almost every surface, a few even smashed in the sink. He then looked over to the table in the corner, expecting to see even more chaos, but instead saw all of Kurt's things. Perfectly in place.

He walked over and picked up Kurt's keys, pocketing them before grabbing his cell phone. The battery was almost dead, but Blaine still flicked through it. He had 9 missed calls (three of them from Blaine, frm before everything happened) and the rest from various people, mostly Mercedes, Finn and Rachel. He had about 15 new text messages, all ranging from Hey hun, wanna go shopping this weekend? to Kurt Hummel your fabulous ass better text me back or we are no longer friends.

Blaine made a mental note to call Mercedes later to fill her in on everything.

He carefully folded up Kurt's blazer before putting it and his coat into Kurt's bag, taking it over by the front door. He then steeled himself to walk upstairs and to Kurt's room, hoping that Burt was still passed out somewhere in the house.

Blaine opened the door to Kurt's room slowly, expecting it to be a mess, but was again surprised when nothing was touched. Kurt's bed was still unmade, but the room was otherwise perfect.

He went over to Kurt's closet and was glad to find a duffel bag crammed into the corner. He then threw in socks and briefs quickly, not paying too much attention to what he was grabbing before he began to pick clothes at random from the closet and drawers, hoping Kurt wouldn't be too mad at his choices of mostly jeans, sweats, button downs and pull overs (They wore uniforms anyways, so for now, Blaine figured what he was picking would do just fine).

Blaine noticed a bag on Kurt's desk, opening it to reveal about 4 different kinds of concealers and lotions. He rolled his eyes and smiled before throwing it over to the bed with the duffel. He was about to start picking what shoes he thought Kurt would want when the door to the bedroom flew open, slamming into the door behind it.

Blaine stood up and spun around quickly, looking over at a very pissed off and very hung over Burt Hummel.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Blaine remembered the last time he saw Burt Hummel- waking up in his son's bed with the mother of all hangovers and having no idea where he was. Blaine figured that wasn't going to bode well in this situation.

"Mr. Hummel, I just came to grab some of Kurt's things—"

"What the fuck for? Are you hiding him? You keeping my fucking son away from me you piece of—"

Blaine felt the anger bubbling up in him, giving him the courage to fight back, "Your son? You lost the right to call him that when your fist slammed into his face! How fucking dare you act like I'm the bad guy here. Your son needed you, he trusted you, and you threw it all into his face! You should fucking be ashamed of yourself."

Blaine didn't realize what was happening until Burt was in his face, slamming him up against the closet, hands fisted into Blaine's hoodie. Blaine didn't back down though, he just glared into the man's eyes, "What, you gunna hit me too? Haven't hit your gay bashing quota for the week yet?"

At that, Burt backed off, eyes glancing everywhere around the room, not settling on one place too long, scared. "I-I didn't gay bash, I'm not homophobic, you little shit. My fucking son is gay, for fucks sake!"

"You're right, hitting Kurt wasn't homophobic, it was child abuse. You're lucky Kurt still cares about you enough to not call the cops on your pathetic ass."

Blaine then closed the short distance between them, anger and hate clear in his eyes, "You honestly think Kurt wanted any of this? You think he wanted to leave his friends and his life and everything he knew? You think he wanted to hurt you or Carole or your family? He stayed strong for far longer than anyone should, for you. So how fucking dare you hurt him, hate him, now that he's trying to help himself. I don't know if you're a religious man, Mr. Hummel, but if I were you, I would start praying for repentance big time, hope you don't get sent to the lowest goddamned ring of hell. And as for Kurt? If it were up to me, you would never see or hear from him again. But it's not my choice. Or yours. It's his. His entirely. So I sincerely suggest you back the hell off and leave us alone until he says so."

Blaine then backed away, going over to the bed and zipping the duffel shut, slinging it over his shoulder and heading for the door, Burt still stunned in place, staring at nothing.

"Congratulations, Mr. Hummel, now you have no son and your money and life back. You got what you wanted."

And with that, he left, going down the stairs, grabbing Kurt's messenger bag from the floor and heading back to Kurt, back home.

Blaine spent the entire drive back in silence, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his fingers were numb and white when he pried them off the wheel. His eyes were red and puffy too, but he never cried. Instead he grabbed the bags from the passenger seat and made his way back into the house, instantly being greeted by his mother who hugged him tightly when she saw the look on her son's face.

"He came down a while ago. He was scared when you weren't there with him, but we quickly calmed him down and told him you had an errand to run. He didn't say much, but we managed to get some toast into him. He looked exhausted so I gave him tea and sent him back up to your room. I suppose he's sleeping again."

Blaine resisted the urge to drop everything and hug the hell out of his mother, but instead he smiled gratefully and headed up the stairs to his room. Our room he thought to himself, smiling again.

His mom was right, Kurt was asleep again, entirely on Blaine's side of the bed (and wow, he now has a side of the bed), curled up under the blanket, hair flopped over his face, covering his features from Blaine.

Blaine worked quickly, moving his own things into different drawers to make room before pulling out various articles of clothing and putting them away, hanging up in the closet certain shirts and pants so Kurt wouldn't have a fit over wrinkles and creases.

Blaine didn't have a vanity like Kurt did, so he left the room to put Kurt's bag in the bathroom.

When he got back, Kurt was awake, sitting up in bed and staring at the top of Blaine's dresser across the room.

"Hey." Blaine called out softly, making Kurt jump slightly as he looked over, smiled slightly, a look of confusion crossing his face.

Blaine shut the door behind him before walking over to what Kurt was staring at, grabbing it and bringing it over to the other boy, sitting in front of him on the bed.

"I uh…okay well, I figured you'd like some of your own things here."

Kurt looked down at his hands, fingers stroking across the small picture frame in his hand, a picture of him and his friends from McKinley smiling back at him.

"How did you?—"

"I went to Lima. Grabbed some stuff for you."

Kurt's head shot up, fear quickly replacing the contentment that was in his eyes.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you, oh my god, Blaine, what the hell were you thinking, you freaking—"

"No, no," Blaine quickly reached out, grabbing Kurt's hands in his, "No, I swear, I'm fine, nothing happened. I mean, your dad was there, but he didn't really stop me. I just—"

"You shouldn't have gone, he could've—"

"It's done, Kurt. I needed to go; I had to do this for you."

"No, you didn't, I can deal with him, I just…why?"

Blaine scrunched his eyes in confusion before answering, "Because we want you to stay here with us, Kurt, my parents and I, we want you to stay."

Kurt's eyes widened, opening his mouth to protest, but Blaine beat him to it, "But my dad, he'll—"

"Nope, I told him he wasn't going to come here, and you weren't going back because it wasn't safe. He isn't going to see you, not unless you want him to. It's a done deal, Hummel. You're staying here. In my house, in my room, with me."

Kurt shook his head, "But your parents—"

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands in his, tugging gently to make the other boy look up at him, "It was my mom's idea, Kurt. She wants you to stay here. And besides," Blaine let go of Kurt's hands and climbed off the bed, walking over to his dresser, pulling open a drawer before reaching over to his closet, opening that as well, "Most of your stuff is already here. I mean, there's still more to get, but I figured this could be a start. I even grabbed your makeup bag—"

"It's concealers."

"Right, that, and I grabbed some of your pictures that you had on your nightstand and some of the clothes I really hope you're okay with having here and I just really don't want you to feel like you don't belong here because you do and I love you and I just wanted—"

"Blaine?"

Blaine didn't notice Kurt had even moved, but he was suddenly standing right in front of him. He had to glance up to meet Kurt's eyes (but damn did he kind of love that Kurt was a little taller than him) and he was surprised to see Kurt smiling slightly.

"Yes?"

Kurt leaned down and pressed his lips against Blaine's, kissing him softly before pulling away, "Thank you."

Blaine's hands had somehow wound up on Kurt's hips, fingertips inching under Kurt's (Blaine's) t-shirt, and he smiled before leaning in and kissing Kurt again.

"Did you really mean it?" Kurt mumbled against his lips, arms now wrapped around Blaine's neck.

"Mean what? You belonging here? Hell yeah, I—"

Kurt shook his head, pulling away slightly to look into Blaine's eyes, "You um…you said…you said you loved me."

Blaine froze, rewinding his ramblings from before in his head and holy shit, he totally said he loved him.

Shit shit motherfucking shit.

"Oh god, just um, please forget that happened? It slipped out, I'm sorry. You totally don't have to say anything in return and I don't want you to think you do, because you don't and I didn't want to pressure you or freak you out or anything and oh my god I'm so stupid—"

Kurt stopped him ramblings by leaning down to press his lips firmly against Blaine's, pulling away with a smirk, "You ramble. A lot."

"Yeah…sorry."

"Don't be. It's kind of adorable."

"I just don't want you to—"

"Blaine… you're about to start rambling again."

Blaine sighed and dropped his arms to his sides, looking down. Kurt rolled his eyes before grabbing Blaine's chin, making him face him.

"I love you."

Blaine's world kinda froze right then. His heart stopping for a second before picking up in double time.

"Yeah?"

Kurt nodded, smirking, "Yeah."

He was grinning; he had to have been because suddenly Kurt was smiling too and oh my god, Kurt loved him.

"How could I not? You're practically my knight in shining…blazer. I don't know what I would have done without you. How I would have been without you in my life. I-I need, Blaine. And it scares me. It freaking terrifies me, but it's true. I love you, and I'm thankful for you. You saved my life, Blaine." Kurt said shrugging at the end, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"God, I love you." Blaine breathed before grabbing Kurt's face in his hands and kissing him again. Moments later, Blaine's mom called for them to come downstairs to eat some lunch and Kurt and Blaine grinned against each other's lips, and Kurt broke the kiss and kissing Blaine's cheek before hugging the older boy tightly, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from crying.

After everything that had happened in his life, after everything that happened in the last 24 hours, Kurt was scared of what was going to happen in the future. But he was finally given a chance at happiness. And as much as it scared him, he was going to make sure he got to keep it this time.