During the next session, Blaine gave Dr. Franco a pretty thorough account of his teenage life.

He talked at length about coming out, something he had barely done before; the only ones who had ever heard the full story were Wes and Kurt.

He talked about his parents' reaction, and how things seemed different since then; like they were still adjusting. Always adjusting. Never quite settling.

"I know they love me, they care about me. But my dad, he's never been very good at showing affection. We just don't talk all that much," Blaine said somberly. "In his defense, he tries, he really does. It's just not easy for him. I think he probably feels that everything would be easier if I were straight."

He sighed deeply. "My mom, on the other hand, has always been protective. Being the youngest of two, and by a wide margin, I was always her baby. When I came out, she started worrying about me. Like she's always bracing herself for the worst."

He talked about Cooper, and how Cooper graduated and moved to LA to study and pursue a career in acting, when Blaine was still in middle school. He explained that he came out to Cooper before he came out to his parents; he had called his brother one morning, when it was early in Lima and even earlier in LA, woke him up and told him he was scared.

"And what did Cooper say?"

"He said that I was going to be okay, but whatever happened, that I could always come live with him in LA," Blaine chuckled even though his voice thickened. "That hardly made me feel better, but I don't think I could've done it if he hadn't said that. If he hadn't been cool. Cooper usually doesn't take things very seriously, but at least he did that time, and it made me feel less scared."

He talked about starting high school, how it had been a tough transition to him, but it was nothing compared to what happened once word got around that he was out. He was already bullied for his height, for wearing bow ties, for his hair, for singing and being in the drama club; and then everything suddenly became ten times worse.

Suddenly he was afraid to go to school. He would often fake being ill so he could skip, which his mother condoned. His father was definitively not happy about it.

"He came down to the school a couple of times and talked to the principal. Basically they lied to our faces about keeping an eye out for me. And when my dad wasn't around, they basically told me that I should just deal with it. They just didn't care."

Then he talked about the Sadie Hawkins dance. How he and his friend braved the odds and went together, and how they ended up in the hospital, and it was weeks before they were both well enough to go back to school.

"Except he didn't. He never came back. He transferred to another school immediately. And I haven't seen him or talked to him since. I've considered friending him on Facebook, but I just can't bring myself to it." Blaine shrugged. "Neither has he."

"Did you ever denounce your attackers?" Dr. Franco asked.

Blaine shook his head. "My friend didn't want to have anything to do with it. It would've been just my word against the three jocks."

He sighed again. "So one day my mom and dad sat me down to talk, and they handed me some pamphlets, and told me about Dalton Academy."

"Hey. Blaine, right?"

Blaine glanced around and saw Wes Hughes jogging to catch up with him as he walked to English Lit.

"Um, hi," he replied, once Wes was walking beside him.

"Hi, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Wes," the junior said, offering his hand. Blaine took it.

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you."

"How's everything? I know you're new to Dalton. And you transferred due to special circumstances?"

Blaine flushed with embarrassment. He should've known that people would talk about it, even if he didn't know anyone yet. "Yeah, I, uh, I'm having a freshman do-over," he said, trying to sound like it wasn't really a big deal.

But it was. He still remembered the meeting with Dalton's headmaster and student counselor, and how frustrated his father had been when they informed them that, due to Blaine's attendance record (both because he skipped on purpose, and the two months he was between the hospital and physical therapy), and the fact that his grades had started to decline halfway through the year, the best thing was for him to repeat his freshman year. And there was nothing that they could do to convince them of otherwise. Dalton Academy didn't take student performance lightly.

Wes winced. "That's too bad. But hey, graduating from Dalton, if you have a good GPA, you're basically guaranteed eligibility for most Ivy League universities."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine said with a small smile, even though going to an Ivy League school had never really been on his mind. It might be on his father's, but fortunately Blaine wouldn't have to think about that; not for another couple of years, at least.

"In any case, I just wanted to introduce myself properly," Wes continued. "And perhaps... I know you're new and all, and you're still adjusting, and I don't know if you've already made your picks for any of the clubs, but... I'd like to make you an offer."

Blaine stopped walking to listen properly. He couldn't help having a bad feeling about this. He'd never been to a private school before, and for some reason all he could think about was hazing rituals and traditional British 'fagging'.

"Okay, I don't mean to freak you out or anything, but" Wes started carefully. "I heard you singing in the shower the other day."

Blaine didn't know what to make of that. Of all the things, he hadn't expected that. "Okay...?"

"I had gone back because I left my phone in my gym locker, and I heard you. At first it freaked me out, I thought the locker room was empty," Wes chuckled. Blaine scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Yeah, I usually wait for everyone to leave before I shower. Old habit."

"I see." Wes nodded in understanding, becoming serious. "Just to reassure you, you have nothing to worry about here, okay? No one's going to do be mean. It's the rule, and everyone follows it without question. That's another plus of this school."

Blaine managed to smile a little. "I know. I guess I just have to get used to it."

Wes smiled back before continuing. "Anyway, I heard you sing, and I thought you were good. I mean, really good. I didn't want to scare you, so I didn't say anything to you then, but I had a talk with the rest of the council, and we agreed on it. So I wanted to see if you'd like to try out for the Warblers."

"The Warblers?" Blaine's eyebrows shot up.

"You know, the glee club?"

"I know who you guys are," Blaine smiled. "Back at my old school, we had no glee club. Apparently it was outstandingly bad, and they withdrew all the funding for it a couple of years ago. So all I know about glee clubs here is Carmel High's Vocal Adrenaline, and the Warblers."

"The Warblers are not just any glee club," Wes explained. "Unlike most clubs, we sing a capella. And it's one of the coolest clubs in Dalton. If not the coolest."

Blaine looked even more surprise. Wes nodded and smiled wryly. "We get the rock star treatment. Because we're good. Now, we haven't had a great lead singer since Tyler Ridgewood graduated two years ago. So we're looking for our new star. And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to see if you can be that star."

"Me? Really?" Blaine shook his head in disbelief.

"Why not? I heard you sing, and I think you've got what it takes. You have all this talent and I think you don't even have a clue. You have to do it."

Blaine wouldn't stop shaking his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Do you suffer from stage fright or something?"

"Um, not really."

Wes sighed, and placed a reassuring hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Look, I know it's tough being the new kid, and I know you've been through some stuff. But that's all in the past. Here you have people who don't care where you come from, who you like, or any of that stuff. In Dalton, everyone gets treated equal. Well," Wes grinned like a cheshire cat, "unless you become the new star of the Warblers; then you get treated like a local god."

Blaine laughed, both nervously and amusedly. Who would've thought a glee club could be cool?

"Alright, you got me."

"Try outs are this wednesday at three. At least give it a go. What have you got to lose?" Wes said with a wink, before sprinting off down the hallway to his next class.

"I auditioned and got the lead in many Warbler performances. We made it to Sectionals that year, though not Regionals."

Dr. Franco nodded, smiling slightly. "So things started looking up for you at that moment."

Blaine nodded. "I know my dad wasn't entirely happy that I was in a club for singing, but he said that at least I was safe."

"Did you feel safe?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel Dalton was the right decision, then?"

Blaine shrugged. "I guess. I mean, I felt completely different, I felt like I could fit in. And I really tried to put everything that had happened behind me. But I couldn't help but think, every now and then, that the way things were in that school, with those people, was unlike anything that goes on in the real world." He sighed. "While being safe was comforting, it was also like living in an illusion."

"So you don't think it was the right decision?"

"After a year of being there, I think I completely stopped thinking about that." His gaze fell to his hands. "Until I met Kurt."

"Feeling better?" Blaine asked, glancing at the boy sitting across from him on a booth at Breadstix.

Kurt Hummel looked up from his salad and forced a smile. "A little."

"Cheer up. I think that could've gone a lot worse."

"It could have also gone a little better," Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry you got pushed around."

"It's okay," Blaine said, even though in the very back of his mind he'd had horrible flashbacks of his days at his former high school. But he wasn't about to mention that. "I came to help you, and you're the one who ended up helping me."

Kurt laughed a small, mirthless laugh. "You also didn't have to buy me lunch."

"Well, I thought it would be nice," Blaine replied, hoping that he didn't sound nervous at all. This had only been the second time they had met, and Blaine was already buying him lunch. Blaine had never treated any boy to lunch, let alone a boy with whom he had trouble making eye-contact.

Kurt picked absently at his salad, and Blaine watched him in silence. He just really wanted to say something to make Kurt feel better.

"I'm really sorry that he stole your first kiss."

Kurt's cheeks reddened slightly. Blaine suddenly wanted to kick himself.

"Nothing I can do about that now, is there?" Kurt said mournfully, and shrugged it off like it was something he would just have to get over. Blaine watched Kurt's face, the bright blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"What am I gonna do, Blaine?" the boy asked in a very small voice.

Blaine almost blurted out 'come to Dalton', and he would've tried to pass it as a joke, but it wasn't funny. Not right now. He knew that Kurt liked the idea of Dalton. But it wasn't an affordable option.

"Well, I'll tell you what you can do, and that is 'not listen to Blaine anymore'," he replied instead, laughing awkwardly. "I wish I hadn't suggested that you confront him. Maybe none of this would've happened."

Kurt shook his head. "No, you know what? I think it would've happened anyway. Sooner or later. Or it would've just gotten worse. But now I have this secret hanging over his head. I don't like that, but at least he knows that he needs to be careful."

He put his fork down and bit his lip. "The thing is, I don't really want him to be careful. I just want him to leave me alone. I don't care if he comes out or not. I just-"

"I know," Blaine interrupted him, because Kurt really looked like he would start crying again, and it kinda broke his heart. Kurt exhaled through his nose.

"Thanks for trying to help me."

Blaine winked. "No problem."

The nice blonde waitress came by to pick up their plates, smiling sweetly as they said thanks. Blaine felt a surge of affection for her, because, while a couple of patrons had glanced at them resentfully (and made no secret of their disdain), she didn't seem to care that there were two boys sitting across from each other on the booth, and she did these little things for them, like bring Kurt extra napkins, and give them free refills on their diet Cokes, and she kept calling them 'hon'. And when Blaine picked up the tab, dismissing any protest from Kurt, she smiled at him like she knew.

So Blaine couldn't help but give her a hefty tip; she had kind of restored his faith in humanity, after all.

"Hey," he said, suddenly feeling rather bold and daring, as he and Kurt headed out, "would you like to hang out again some other time?"

The smile that crossed Kurt's face was worth everything that had happened that day.

"Sure."

"Where've you been? David said you skipped Chemistry," Wes said, as soon as he saw Blaine come into the common room. It was unusually empty, and Wes seemed happy enough to basically have it all to himself, judging from all the open books and the fact that he was still typing away on his laptop, even though he was now looking at Blaine fixedly.

Blaine shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned at his friend.

"I had stuff to do. Remember Kurt?" he answered, turning a bit red.

Wes smiled slyly. "Uh-huuuuuuh...?" he said in a sing-song voice.

"Well, he called me earlier, because he was having some trouble... with a bully."

Wes's smile disappeared. "Uh-huh." Blaine cleared his throat nervously.

"And... I went down to his school to help him confront him."

Wes's eyes widened in horror. "What? Are you insane?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "What did you expect? I couldn't let him deal with that guy by himself."

"Blaine, I expect you to have some common sense. You went and confronted a guy whom you know to be violent. You could've gotten hurt," Wes said, getting up from his chair, as if to emphasize his alarm.

Blaine kept mum about the fact that he almost did, while Wes seemed to be trying to be calm.

"Why didn't he just tell someone? A teacher. The principal. Anyone. You don't confront him."

Blaine shook his head. "You don't understand. It's not that simple."

"Blaine, you can't put yourself at risk like that. I know you like Kurt, but-"

There was an involuntary snort and an unwelcome flash of heat up Blaine's neck. "What? No, no, we're just friends. I was helping out a friend."

Wes rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Look, nothing happened," Blaine continued. "At least, I don't think I made it worse. Hopefully."

Wes still didn't say anything, just shook his head at his friend.

"Come on, Wes, I felt like it was the right thing to do. I know I transferred here precisely to get away from bullies, but I've never felt good about it. I just felt like I was running away, giving up. And for once I just wanted to stand up for myself, or for someone else."

Wes raised an eyebrow questioningly at his friend. "Okay... so this was more about battling your past demons, rather than doing something brave and chivalrous for a boy whom you happened to serenade the first time you met?"

Blaine glared at him and regretted sharing anything with him.

"Shut up," he muttered, while Wes grinned.

"I'm just looking out for you, man," he said sympathetically. Blaine sighed.

"Well, maybe it's time I look out for someone, too," he said, giving him a half smile before heading to his room.

Blaine told Dr. Franco about Kurt transferring soon afterwards. He told her about David Karofsky's actions, and his subsequent expulsion from McKinley. And how his immediate return prompted Kurt's parents to forgo their honeymoon in order to pay for Kurt's tuition at Dalton.

He told her about being there for Kurt as he auditioned for the Warblers, adjusting to the school, feeling a little out of sorts.

"I suddenly felt really bummed out that I had had to repeat my freshman year, because if I hadn't, we would've been in the same classes. After all, I was the only one he knew there."

"But he was okay?"

"Yeah, sure. It's just hard, you know? Being away from his friends, being away from home. And it was hard for him to be part of a glee club that was so different from his old one. Also, the workload. You know, private school and all."

Dr. Franco nodded. "How about you? How did you feel?"

Blaine laughed a little to himself. "I kinda had to hide the fact that I was really happy he had transferred. Obviously not the circumstances, but all that traveling between Dalton and Lima was starting to take a tax on my gas money and maybe even my school performance."

"I was just really excited to have a friend who was gay. Someone whom I liked a lot who also knew what it was like, who had gone through some of the same things as I had. And Kurt probably felt the same way too."

"Did you try to be more than just friends with him? Or think that he might?" Dr. Franco asked. Blaine took a deep breath.

"There was an instant in which I did... But I kept telling myself that it would just be selfish, because he was going through a tough time. He didn't need a boyfriend, or even a boy mooning over him. He needed a friend." He shrugged. "And so that's what I tried to be."

"What about you? Do you think you wanted a boyfriend or a friend?"

Blaine shrugged. "I think I just really needed a friend, too."

"That's what you needed. But what did you want?"

Blaine had never thought about that.

The hour was up. The receptionist let Dr. Franco know that her next appointment was waiting outside. Dr. Franco sat there for a moment, watching Blaine's tension finish unwinding.

"For a first official session, I think that went very well," she finally said. "I'm glad that you've found yourself comfortable and safe enough to talk about anything that's on your mind."

Blaine nodded.

"If you ever feel like you need more time in your sessions, we can always adjust your schedule. Or if you need to call me at any time, you can definitively do that too. I know you must have questions."

Blaine didn't say anything or move. He seemed suddenly transfixed by the floral arrangement on the coffee table. Dr. Franco observed him for a moment and then cleared her throat.

"I have an exercise we can try out," she started; "we can do at the end of each session. Okay?"

Blaine nodded again.

"While you can ask me as many questions as you like, at any time, I would like for you to ask me one question before you go. And I want you to think about that question really well. Because I want you to ask me what you really want to know."

Blaine slowly nodded again. Dr. Franco watched him closely.

"What do you really want to know right now, Blaine?"

Blaine took a shuddering breath and swallowed a lump in his throat, like he had finally gathered the courage to ask something.

"Am I depressed?"

Dr. Franco seemed unfazed, like she already knew he would ask that.

"Do you think you're depressed? Or have you ever felt depressed?" she asked back. Blaine nodded slowly.

"I think so. I just feel... like I don't have anyone to talk to. I have friends, but I just don't feel all that comfortable sharing this with them. My best friend was always Kurt. And he won't answer my calls."

Dr. Franco scooted closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. Blaine didn't look up, studying his hands instead.

"I have to be honest with you; it sounds like you've been depressed for a while. And that's perfectly normal."

Her words were like a trigger, and suddenly Blaine was crying silently, tears spilling like a broken dam. Dr. Franco clasped one of his hands as he struggled to contain his sobs.

"A lot of people, even young people, go through depression. It's a human emotion. There's nothing wrong with it. It doesn't make you a bad person, it doesn't mean that there's no solution to it."

Blaine sniffed loudly, and Dr. Franco handed him the box of tissues.

"You're not clinically depressed; you don't have a family history of it, and your symptoms don't appear to be severe," she reassured him. "You're just in despair. You've been through some very hard situations; it's only natural. And you sough help, because you want to get better. That's good."

Blaine wiped his eyes and nose with a tissue and tried to calm down.

"You know, I was in a deep state of depression when my sister died," Dr. Franco confided. Blaine lifted her eyes toward her. "What you're going through is like a mourning process. You lost someone very important to you."

"I just... don't know where to go from here," he said hoarsely.

"Well, that's what we're going to figure out together," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He took a long, deep breath and wiped his eyes again. Dr. Franco poured him a glass of water.

"If it would make you feel better, I can refer you to a psychiatrist, a good one that I often work with. He can give you a full evaluation; if he finds that you might benefit from a medical prescription, then he can provide it, and monitor your progress. But of course, medication is only part of a treatment. I'd still like it if you continued to meet with me."

Blaine nodded, and Dr. Franco walked over to her desk briefly, retrieving a card from a drawer. She handed it to him, and he suddenly looked apprehensive.

"Does it feel weird?" he muttered.

"The medication? It shouldn't. It's actually supposed to make you feel better, just like any other medication," Dr. Franco replied. "Look, I know it's scary. I was scared too. I was on anti-depressants for a while after my sister's death. And at first I was terrified of taking them. I feared that I would become this detached robot or something. But the truth is, it helped a lot. At a time when I felt like nothing made sense anymore, that there was no point to anything, I started to feel better. I was able to continue with my studies, finish school and set up my practice, and I got to do it for my sister."

Blaine still looked hesitant, but he finally took the card from her.

"Just think about it," she said as he stood up to leave. "But whatever you choose, I promise that here, we're going to work toward you getting better. You're going to be okay."

Kurt jumped slightly as an incoming message beep echoed through the staircase up to his apartment. He glanced down at his phone once he was through the door and he had put his bag and all his stuff down.

Hey, Kurt. How's New York?

It was a text from Sam.

He frowned. Sam didn't exactly text him often.

Hey, Sam. Um... good?

Tina and Artie say hi. Brittany says something about a unicorn poster. She says she hugs it every night and she really misses you.

That's nice.

Kurt retrieved a diet Coke from the fridge and waited for Sam to reply.

Finn and I kinda decided that, since he's back, I'm taking your room for a while. Just letting you know.

Oh really?

I promise to be really careful. I'll put it back the way it was when you come for Christmas.

Sure. Good. Thanks.

I meant to tell you earlier, but Finn's been in a bad mood since Rachel came to visit, so I thought it best to move out of his room quickly.

It's okay, Sam.

Hey, is everything okay between you and Blaine?

Kurt sighed. He really, really didn't want to talk about it.

Why do you ask? he purposely avoided answering the question by asking another question.

Do you happen to know if he's going to therapy or something?

Kurt nearly dropped the glass in his hand.

What? He typed back. It was a couple of minutes before Sam replied again. Kurt stared at the phone the entire time, restless.

Crap, were you not supposed to know?

Did he tell you he's going to therapy?

Actually we haven't talked at all in, like, a week. He hasn't been talking much to any of us lately. He's been a little strange.

A part of Kurt didn't think he should want to know, but most of his brain was screaming for him to get Sam to tell him everything.

Strange how?

Just sort of detached.

Kurt didn't know what to make of that. Blaine had never been too close to anyone in New Directions. But he had never been detached. He didn't know what to say next, but Sam continued anyway.

I thought he was just still having a hard time, with you not being here. But he looks really down lately. And he hasn't mentioned anything to any of us.

Why do you think he might be going to therapy?

Tina says she saw him coming out of a clinic. Her dentist is on the same level as a psychology clinic.

Kurt read over the text. He held on to the edge of the table, feeling he might fall over.

I've got to go.

Seriously, is everything okay between you two?

It was nice talking to you, Sam.

Wait, Kurt.

Kurt.

I'm sorry if I screwed up or something.

Kurt bit his lip before sending one last message.

You didn't, Sam. Don't worry. It was already screwed up.

Kurt put his phone down and ignored the beep of two more messages from Sam. He sat on the nearest stool and stayed there for a while, mulling things over. The Coke was left forgotten on the kitchen counter, drops of condensation gathering slowly.

Rachel arrived a couple of hours later, exhausted and hungry. She just wanted to eat something and take a long hot shower. She forgot all about that, though, when she saw Kurt sprawled on the couch, eating the last of the Rocky Road watching something on his laptop, with a box of tissues at the ready.

"Kurt, honey, you're not watching sad movies, are you?"

"No, I'm watching 'When Harry Met Sally'."

Rachel looked at him and winced. "Honey, don't do this to yourself."

"It's not a sad movie. It's a romantic comedy. It's supposed to be happy. It has a happy ending and all. You know, it makes so much sense and it's so true. 'When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible'. That's true. It's not what everyone gets, but it's still true."

"Kurt, please," Rachel said, rubbing his back. "This isn't good for you."

"It's just a movie, Rachel."

"No, this is torture with a large side of ice cream," she said, snatching the spoon and ice cream container from him. "You'll give yourself a stomachache."

"I've actually been having a sort of ache, and I'm just trying to get rid of it," he said stoically.

Rachel slid onto the space beside him. "What happened?"

Kurt paused the film and put his laptop on the table in front of him. Rachel followed him with her eyes as stood up and paced a little. She had a feeling he did that for a while before she got home.

Kurt stopped and took a deep breath. "Apparently Blaine's been going to therapy."

Rachel's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Really? Since when?"

"I have no idea."

"How did you find out?"

"Sam texted me," he said, frowning and shaking his head slowly. "He said it like he has no idea that Blaine and I are not... Does he not know? Doesn't anyone know?"

Rachel looked at him blankly. "I have no idea."

Kurt started pacing again. "He hasn't told anyone. Sam said he hasn't talked to anyone in over a week. That's just... I don't know."

Rachel looked alarmed. "Do you think he's going through something?"

"I don't know."

"You don't think he tried to... do something to... himself?"

Kurt started crying as he continued to pace, but he immediately controlled himself.

"I don't know," he said again.

"Kurt," Rachel said, leaping from her seat and pulling him into a hug. "Honey, please don't cry. Don't cry anymore. I'm sure he's fine," she said, running a soothing hand over his back.

"I just don't want to care anymore," he mumbled into her shoulder. Rachel made a noise like a chuckle.

"That's a tall order," she said, eliciting a loud sniff from her friend. "It seems he's been having a rougher time than we thought. It's obviously been hard for both of you."

"I keep telling myself that I'm okay. I need to feel okay."

"No, Kurt, you're not okay yet. You're better, but you're not okay. It's only been a week. Give yourself some time. You're going through a lot, and I'm aware of it. I've heard you cry yourself to sleep every night. I understand that you're hurt. I've been hurting too. But don't pretend that you're okay. Talk to me, let's sit down and talk. I want to help you however I can."

"Thanks, but maybe some other time," Kurt said simply, walking back to the couch. He dropped down and picked up the laptop and switched it off.

"Look, maybe Sam got it wrong. Maybe Blaine's not going to therapy after all, and Sam just assumed," Rachel offered. "You know how he is, maybe he got confused."

Kurt shook his head. "Actually it was Tina. And that hardly makes me feel any better," he replied.

"Well, I guess if he has a problem, it's a good thing that he's seeking help, right?"

"I don't know. I don't know..." Kurt said, worrying his lip and wringing his hands. Rachel stared at him for a moment, gauging his behavior.

"You're not... blaming yourself for it, are you?"

Kurt turned to her rapidly.

"No," he said firmly, his expression turning angry. "He's the one who convinced me to come to New York. I was going to wait in Lima until we could come together, and he told me to come." He paused, breathing a little harder. "And then he goes and cheats on me? That is all his fault."

Rachel nodded, letting out a slow stream of air in relief. The past week had been hard enough, and even if she knew it was normal, she couldn't help but be awfully worried about him. She knew very well what heartbreak was like, but she would have bet that Kurt, of all people, wouldn't have to go through it. Because Blaine had been the last person she would've imagined could do something like this.

She wasn't terribly worried about Blaine, but she still felt that his behavior was weird and a little concerning. So, if Sam was right, everything made more sense now.

Kurt suddenly let out a strangled sob, covering his face with his hands. Rachel instinctively reached out to stroke his hair.

"I still can't believe he did that," he blubbered into his palms. "Why would he do that?"

"I'm so sorry, honey," Rachel said, petting him. Kurt breathed deeply and wiped his cheeks.

"Me too. I'm sorry I fooled myself into thinking it could be like a movie."

"Hey, I thought you said that whole movie happy ending thing was true."

Kurt shook his head. "I also said that it doesn't happen to everyone."

"It will happen to you," she said, trying to be as comforting and certain as she could. "You deserve it."

Kurt got ready for bed. It was still early, but he was too tired and stressed to do anything else.

He was still so angry and hurt. And it took all his energy to function normally on a daily basis, to get through the day without thinking about Blaine, stupid stupid Blaine. And now this...

Ugh, he'd be like a zombie by the end of the week.

Getting over Blaine was proving to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever attempt in his life.

He plugged his phone to the charger and turned off the light.

A couple of minutes later, he groped around in the darkness for the phone and scrolled through his contacts. He landed on Blaine's name, and his finger hovered over the 'call' button for a second.

Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

Maybe he should think about this a little longer.

He wouldn't even know what to say, anyway. Or if he'd even get the answer he was looking for. Or any answer at all.

He didn't know if he was even prepared to hear Blaine's voice again.

He just didn't know what was left and right anymore.

So he put the phone down and laid down, trying to relax, trying to block out all thoughts. That proved impossible again, as it had all week. He went over everything that had happened that night, every sentence, every gesture, and that damned song, just like every night, and eventually cried himself to sleep once more.