Blaine sat in the soberly-decorated waiting room outside the office of Dr. Charles Gilbert, psychiatrist. He flipped through a magazine without really perusing it, leg bobbing up and down restlessly.

"Sweetheart, calm down. It's going to be alright."

Blaine glanced at his mother as she offered a smile. It did little to appease his nerves, but he would've probably felt ten times worse if she hadn't been there.

After having a lengthy conversation with both his parents, his father reluctantly agreed that it was best if Blaine was evaluated by a psychiatrist. And his mother offered adamantly to accompany Blaine.

So on the day of the appointment, Blaine hoped, for his own sake, and the sake of his parents, that the evaluation would be positive.

It was long and tortuous, but not unbearable. Dr. Gilbert, a man in his late forties with a deep voice and grey hair, like a middle-aged James Earl Jones, was polite and precise. He seemed to know a lot about Blaine already, from the information Dr. Franco had sent him, so he was concise in his questioning. And once again, to Blaine's relief, there was no stiff recliner involved.

There was an extensive questionnaire, a revision of Blaine's medical history, all his school records, and a brief interview with his mother. The doctor asked if Blaine had trouble sleeping, loss of appetite, tiredness, lack of enthusiasm. He ordered some blood tests, just to be on the safe side, and worked out another appointment to go over the test results.

Dr. Gilbert looked across his desk at Blaine, holding the folder with all of Blaine's information.

"Dr. Franco tells me that you're going through a breakup?"

Blaine nodded, eyes downcast.

"Yes, I... my boyfriend broke up with me," he replied glumly.

"Because you say you cheated on him."

"Yes."

"And you think you might be depressed."

"Yes."

"Do you think you have depression since before the breakup or as a result of the breakup?"

"I... honestly don't know," Blaine shrugged. "Probably before."

"And do you think that's why you cheated? Because you were depressed?"

"Yes."

Dr. Gilbert flipped to another page in the file. "Your boyfriend, Kurt, moved to New York, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you may have started feeling depressed once he left? Or more depressed?"

"Maybe."

"Even after you told him you would be alright with him leaving?"

"Yes."

"And you said he is your first boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Well," Dr. Gilbert nodded slowly, "that seems understandable."

His eyes skimmed the pages of his file one more time, before he intertwined his fingers on top of his desk and watched Blaine over the rims of his glasses.

"As Dr. Franco already told you, you are not clinically depressed," he said. "Major depression shows more severe symptoms, and usually a family history. You're doing well in school, you say you were elected senior class president?"

"Yes," Blaine replied, wishing he could display a little bit of pride.

"And you're a member of almost every club, except sports teams."

"Yes."

Dr. Gilbert raised his eyebrows momentarily. "You could be overexerting yourself. Dr. Franco made a note here that you did all this to distract yourself from Kurt's absence. Although it's not a bad idea, she and I agree that you should take it down a notch, especially now that you're going through treatment."

Blaine nodded. "I know. I actually already quit half of them."

"Good," Dr. Gilbert said. "Just stick with the ones that you really enjoy, the ones that fulfill you."

Blaine thought about saying that the one that used to fulfill him the most was glee club, before Kurt graduated, and that it was now the place where he was constantly reminded of Kurt's absence. He thought he'd rather mention it to Dr. Franco later.

"Yes, sir."

In the end, Dr. Gilbert explained that they would have to wait for the blood tests results to come back so he could decide if a medication prescription was necessary; in the meantime, he suggested Blaine could take valerian root, a herbal supplement to help him sleep and stabilize anxiety and stress. He also recommended that Blaine try some alternate therapies, such as meditation and exercise.

"Sometimes physical therapy can be even more beneficial for the body and the mind than a bottle with a prescription."

"Do you meditate?" Blaine asked curiously.

Dr. Gilbert chuckled. "I try. I haven't quite gotten the hang of it. But my wife's been doing it for years, and she's always going on and on about how great it is, how it helps her unwind at the end of the day, after a long day of dealing with our kids and work and, well, me," he said with a smile. "It's worth a try. You can ask Dr. Franco about alternate therapies, she knows more on that subject than me."

He handed Blaine the blood test order, some information sheets on depression, and arranged for an appointment the following week. He led Blaine out and shook his and his mother's hands.

"Take it easy, Blaine," he said politely.

Blaine got up really early the next day to go to the lab and get blood drawn. He hated needles with a passion, but something about his eagerness to find a solution to this bleakness he was going through, made him momentarily forget about his phobia.

His mother waited for him, to drive him to school; she bought him some breakfast, and he ate it on the way, feeling gradually better. There was something oddly comforting about being driven to school by his mother. He felt like a child again.

As always, he avoided everyone. And everyone seemed to avoid him. Either they knew to steer clear of him, or no one really cared enough to ask him what was wrong. However, he did catch Sam and Tina looking at him a couple of times, but they never said anything.

The day wore on painfully slow. More than ever, he didn't want to go to Glee club. He decided to go to the nurse's office and tell them he had migraine; since there was only one period left for the day, the nurse called his mom to pick him up earlier.

He caught his mother's worried look as he climbed onto the passenger seat, before driving off.

"I got you the valerian root," she said briefly, handing him a small bag from the drugstore. "Maybe you'd like to give it a try."

Blaine pulled out the bottle of 100 capsules and stared at the drawing of a flower under the logo.

Valerian Root has a guaranteed natural potency of .1% Valerenic acids. Valerian has a relaxing effect on the nervous system in that it promotes relaxation in persons leading a hectic lifestyle and helps support restful sleep...

Except Blaine didn't really lead a hectic lifestyle. He just felt miserable, and his sleep was constantly interrupted by the realization that he had screwed everything up with the person that had made him the happiest.

He put the bottle back in the bag and stared out the window the rest of the drive home.

"So, how was your appointment with Dr. Gilbert yesterday?"

Blaine sat down on his usual spot in the middle of the sofa in Dr. Franco's office.

"Pretty good, I guess. He confirmed that I'm not severely depressed. That my depression might stem from overexertion and everything that happened with Kurt," he said simply. Dr. Franco nodded, silently scrutinizing him, as if she was trying to read his face. She cleared her throat.

"Did he prescribe anything?"

"Um, not really, he told me to get some blood tests done first. He only suggested valerian root for now. He says it might help reduce stress, help me sleep better, feel more energy. He also told me to exercise and meditate."

"Excellent idea. People don't give enough credit to how relaxing physical activity can be. Personally, I do yoga," she smiled. "Didn't you tell me you used to practice boxing? Maybe you could take that up again. It's an excellent workout."

Blaine scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I kinda stopped after half my friends from Glee club graduated. I just don't feel as comfortable being in the school gym without them. You know, I don't feel all that safe, so I'd rather not." He shrugged, as if it weren't important.

Dr. Franco seemed to want to say something, but changed her mind. "What about a gym outside of school?" she finally suggested. Blaine shrugged again.

"Sure, I'll see about that."

Dr. Franco nodded slowly and gave him a half-smile.

"Okay. Good. Now, where were we?"

"Hey, I thought you'd be in the library."

Blaine unglued his eyes from the football soccer field and looked up to see David approaching from the top of the bleachers.

"What?"

"That was usually where you went when we had a free period," David said, sitting beside him.

Blaine shrugged, gesturing to the book he had open on his lap. "Oh, I just thought I'd come out and read out here; have some fresh air."

David nodded, looking out onto the field. "Or, you just came to watch Kurt play soccer," he said with a nod toward the action going down below.

Kurt was pretty easy to spot, with his porcelain-like skin offset by the bright red t-shirt and black shorts that was part of the Dalton PE uniform, he stood out slightly from the crowd of red t-shirts of his team, and the black ones of the opposing team.

Blaine gave David a look. "Yeah, I remembered he had PE at the same time, and I thought it be nice to come support him. So what?"

"Nothing," David held up his hands in defense. "Sheesh..." he added under his breath.

Blaine glared at him before glancing down at his book for a second. His eyes drifted to the game again.

"He's pretty good, isn't he?" David pointed out. Blaine grinned.

"Not surprised. Did you know that he was the kicker on McKinley's football team last year? The Titans hadn't had a decent kicker in a long time, let alone a really good one. The only game they won last year was thanks to Kurt."

"Oh well, then I guess it makes sense," David shrugged, eyeing Blaine's smile as he watched Kurt.

"So how do think he's adjusting? Is he as bad as you were last year?" David teased.

"Well, to be fair, I didn't know anyone when I enrolled. At least Kurt knew me, and you and Wes. So yeah, I think he's doing pretty well."

At that moment, someone yelled "Hummel!" and made a pass to Kurt. Kurt dashed ahead of the opponent covering him, chasing after the ball. Two strides later, he drew his right leg back and kicked the ball hard. The ball flew past the defense and straight into the net, just inches from the leaping goalie's outstretched hands.

"YES!" Blaine exclaimed, springing to his feet. David gawked, both at the game and at Blaine.

There was a roar as Kurt's teammates rushed toward him, enveloping in a group hug, while Kurt looked just stunned at what he had just done. Then he broke into the biggest smile.

"I think he's doing better than we think," David smiled as the team stopped celebrating and went back to playing. "And I think this is good for you."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, dumbfounded, as he sat back down.

David shrugged, trying not to smile."Just... making a new friend. It's been good for you."

"Well, he's been through stuff. I've been through stuff too. I think we can relate," he shrugged. "I'm just glad I can help, somehow."

"Yeah, sure." David looked pointedly at Blaine. "But you know what I mean."

"Um, no...?" Blaine replied puzzled.

David narrowed his eyes at him, smirking. "You'll figure it out."

Suddenly, just as Kurt was making another run toward the goal with the ball in his possession, Winston McAllen of the opposing defense tried to kick the ball away from Kurt and instead knocked Kurt off his feet. Kurt landed on his stomach with an 'oomph'. Blaine shot up to his feet again.

"HEY! COME ON!" he shouted in frustration, just as the PE teacher blew the whistle, and the teams both conglomerated around the scene. The teacher signaled for a free throw, and Kurt's team clapped, while Winston helped Kurt get back up. He seemed okay.

Blaine made an annoyed noise as he sat down, shaking his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught David giving him a raised-eyebrow look.

"Don't be so obvious, man. Chill," he said, patting Blaine on the shoulder as he got up to leave.

"What? What do you-"

"I'll be in the library."

"Uh, sure. I'll join you in a bit," Blaine replied distractedly, as everyone got in their positions and Kurt got ready for his free throw, with a teammate talking him through it. The teacher blew the whistle, and then Kurt was sprinting slowly toward the ball, before kicking it with all his might. The ball sailed over the barrier and curved down into the goal, once again out of reach of the goalie.

"WHOO! YEAH!" Blaine clapped.

Kurt's team celebrated effusively with him again. Kurt suddenly glanced up at the bleachers, catching Blaine's eye. Blaine suddenly felt a bit flustered, but he managed to give him a thumbs-up and a smile.

It might have been from all the running about and the excitement, but Kurt's face seemed suddenly redder as he waved to Blaine before going back to the game.

Blaine blushed a little and pretended to go back to reading.

"Hey," Kurt said, dropping down next to Blaine in one of the couches in the common room. Blaine closed the book. Clearly he wasn't going to get any reading done today.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"I'm beat," Kurt replied with a sigh, closing his eyes for a second. He didn't look tired, though; in fact, he didn't look like he had been doing sports at all, just a couple of hours earlier. He was fresh from the shower and his hair looked perfect. Blaine noticed that he smelled great too.

"I can imagine. You were pretty intense in the game."

Kurt snorted. "I wish. I felt so lost out there."

"Didn't look like it."

"No, seriously, I had no idea what I was doing."

"But you were so good out there," Blaine said, smiling brightly. "Too bad you're not interested in trying out for the team. You'd be like Dalton's own Messi."

Kurt made an outraged face. "Oh hey, you can't accuse me of being messy. I literally learned the rules of the game, like, five minutes before we started playing."

Blaine laughed. "No, no, I mean, like Lionel Messi. The Argentinean footballer?"

"Oh, okay," Kurt smiled and shook his head. "I have no idea who that is."

"Well, he's one of the best players in the world."

"I hardly think I'm one of the best players in the world," Kurt chuckled.

"Well, for someone who learned the rules five minutes before the game, you were pretty amazing."

Kurt's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Thanks," he said sheepishly.

They were silent for a moment. Blaine was starting to feel a little dizzy.

Kurt sighed. "I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet with Kyle, I'm tutoring him for a French test."

"Oh, okay, see you later," Blaine replied, hoping he didn't sound as disappointed as he felt.

"Yeah, see you."

He watched as Kurt headed for the door, just as the aforementioned Kyle walked in, looking for him.

Kyle who was in the rowing crew; Kyle who was tall and lean and a junior; Kyle who was actually pretty good in French and did not really need a tutor. Kyle who had suddenly, inexplicably shown a desire to join the Warblers (and bless Wes for telling him, in all honesty, to practice his harmonies and try out again next year).

Blaine watched them greet each other, smiling, and then Kyle led Kurt out of the room. Wherever they were headed, Blaine suddenly wished he didn't care so much, instead of pretending to study while his brain concocted a dozen scenarios.

"So, during that time, what you felt for Kurt was merely a crush?"

Blaine crossed his arms defeatedly. "I guess I thought it was just a crush. Since we were friends, I really didn't want to screw things up with him, so I never said anything or acted on it. Not if it meant losing my best friend."

"Except serenade him as soon as you saw him for the first time," Dr. Franco added with a little smug wink. Blaine blushed.

"I didn't know him, and I didn't think I would see him again."

"But during that time the two of you were friends and schoolmates and fellow Warblers, you didn't know at the time that he also had a crush on you?"

"I kinda knew. I just..." Blaine fidgeted his fingers.

"You didn't believe it."

He nodded. "I thought I might just be making things up in my head."

Dr. Franco chuckled. "Well, haven't we all gone through that..."

Blaine laughed, before he continued talking about serenading Jeremiah at the Gap.

"So, when you sang to that other guy..."

He rubbed his forehead, mortified. "I really don't know what got inside my head... I mean, I kinda liked him. And I thought he might like me." He let out a breathy laugh. "I must have looked like a crazy person; I really wasn't myself when I did everything in my power to get him to ask me out on a second date. And then I sang to him, with the excuse that I was in love with him... So pathetic. And I can't believe the guys let me go through with that madness."

Dr. Franco's lips were pressed, as if she were trying to keep from laughing. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"You can laugh. In retrospect, it's actually pretty funny. But back then, I wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the ground."

"So you didn't really love him."

Blaine shook his head. "No, of course not. I had never been in love in my life before, but I was pretty sure that I wasn't in love." He closed his eyes. "I just wanted to see if I could feel something stronger for him. Stronger than what I felt for Kurt." He laughed again, mirthlessly. "Turns out I can't just make myself fall for someone else that easily."

Dr. Franco shook her head.

"In any case, I thought I'd try. I mean, with him, I had nothing to lose. Except my dignity. Which I totally did. I lost it all, it's probably somewhere beneath a display of scarves."

This time, Dr. Franco did laugh. Blaine himself managed to smile a little.

Then he talked about going with Kurt the party at Rachel's house, where Blaine got drunk for the first time in his life, and waking up in Kurt's bed with a hangover and getting caught by Burt. And talking to Burt about giving Kurt a proper sex talk.

"Was that your first kiss?"

"Yes. But it doesn't count."

Dr. Franco nodded slowly. "So you really didn't think, at the time, that you might be bisexual?" she asked, eyeing him curiously. Blaine shook his head.

"Not really. I was just trying to find an explanation for why that felt good."

"Alcohol?"

"Yep." Blaine laughed a little, then fell silent.

"I think I was just mad at Kurt for saying that there's no such thing as bisexuality."

She shrugged. "What did you expect? He liked you , and you made out with his friend, who is a girl. He was angry and disappointed."

"Yeah, I know that now."

Dr. Franco took a deep breath.

"And did you really talk to Kurt's father about having a talk with Kurt about sex?"

Blaine hid his face behind his hands. "I know, I know. I was so embarrassed," his voice was muffled, so he pulled his hands away and sighed. "He probably thought the worst of me, especially after he had seen me sleeping in Kurt's bed just days before. But in my defense, I had no idea that, a couple of weeks later, I would actually be dating him."

"You had no idea," Dr. Franco repeated, knowingly. Blaine smiled sadly.

"How could I? I never thought I'd get the nerve to even tell him how I felt. I wasn't even sure how I felt. Until the death of the canary."

Dr. Franco tilted her head in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Blaine left the Warbler meeting, feeling a tad dizzy.

He had done it. There was no backing out anymore.

He felt a bit elated, but mostly he was still trembling from the adrenaline rush.

Oh god, what if it had been a mistake?

He had barely any time to think about it, when three pairs of hands were patting him on the back a bit roughly.

"Dude, I can't believe you did it! You finally did it!"

"You totally did it!"

"And the look on his face!"

Blaine stared around in confusion, because the boys were barely talking loud enough for him to hear anything they were saying.

"Guys, keep it down."

David, Trent, Jeff, Thad and Nick all turned around. Wes came out of the choir room with Kurt, talking in hushed voices. Wes said something to Kurt, and Kurt nodded awkwardly before walking away, heading in the opposite direction to them. He glanced over his shoulder once, catching Blaine's eye for a second, before turning away. He had that same mournful look since Pavarotti's death.

"Does he not know we know yet?" Trent asked. "I mean, you guys know we're okay with this, right? In fact, we have been going nuts waiting for one of you to make a freaking move."

"Yeah, man, took you long enough," Jeff added.

"Look, I only asked him to duet with me," Blaine said. "And it was a mistake," he added, mostly to himself. "He's having a hard time right now. He doesn't need me to..." He ran a hand over his hair, messing it up a little. He really couldn't care right now.

Jeff and Nick exchanged shocked looks.

"What, you're not gonna-?"

"Blaine, come on!"

"You're joking, right?"

Blaine started walking off. Only Wes and David followed him.

"Blaine, you know that Kurt likes you. When are you gonna get that through your thick head?" David said. Blaine walked into an empty classroom.

"Just tell him. What have you got to lose?" David added. Blaine looked morose.

"Everything."

The other boys looked at each other, then back at Blaine.

"If it turned out that he doesn't feel the same way, then I'd just..."

His head swam with all the worst possible scenarios. Kurt not being interested; Kurt just wanting to stay friends; Kurt laughing in his face; Kyle.

"Who am I kidding... He's-" he sighed defeatedly. "He's a junior, and I'm just a sophomore."

David gently slapped his own forehead in frustration and took a deep breath.

"That is the lamest excuse I expected you to come up with. Besides, you're both the same age! You'd be a junior too, right now, if it weren't for those guys at your old school!"

"It's not just that, you know. He's... he's Kurt. He's... Kurt."

"He's a guy, like you," David pointed out. "Look, you've gotta stop putting yourself down, man. You're a nice guy, you have a great personality, and I'm gonna be bold enough to say that you're pretty cute. I'm sure that Kurt knows all of that, and I'm pretty sure that he's into you as well."

Blaine turned away from the earnest look of his two friends stared out the window.

"Give yourself a break, man. You are good enough. You're better, in fact. He likes you, and he's damn right to like you." David sighed. "Back me up, Wes. I can't take another day of these two staring at each other longingly in the choir room and neither one doing anything about it."

Blaine felt Wes approach him from behind. He just stood there, and Blaine tried to gauge his friend's expression on the vague reflection on the window pane. A hand fell on his shoulder after a moment.

"Just think about it, okay? Sleep on it, or something. I know it's kinda scary. You think I wasn't shaking like a leaf when I asked my girlfriend out for the first time?" Wes shrugged. "But you should tell him, be honest with him. I think you have no idea what you could be passing up on."

The hour was almost up. Dr. Franco was silent for a moment after Blaine reached the end of his tale.

"Did it ever occur to you that Kurt himself could have the same insecurities as you?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Not at all. He... he's different. He carries himself differently. I know it's a front sometimes, but even back in Dalton, where we knew we didn't have to put on a brave face because we were accepted, he always seemed so much more confident. He doesn't really care about fitting in, he was born to stand out from the crowd. I always need to fit in before I can even try to stand out. He's a lot braver than me."

"But that doesn't mean he's not afraid of getting his heart broken."

"I know," Blaine answered after a beat. "That's just another reason why I'm so angry at myself."

"What is?"

"That I might have made him question, even for a second, how amazing he is. And how lucky I felt to have met him."

He wiped a tear silently. Dr. Franco watched him sympathetically.

"If he is as strong as you say he is, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"What about me?" he asked, staring intently at his knees.

"What about you what?"

"I... I think this is going well, Dr. Franco, but-"

"Please, if you feel comfortable enough, you can call me Nina."

"Nina, I... just don't know what to expect out of all this. Some relief, maybe? Or perhaps a real way to fix things?"

"Is that your question of the day?"

Blaine shrugged for the umpteenth time. Every day he spent on that office, the moment he entered, he felt gradually more comfortable, yes. But at the end of each session, he felt more awkward and confused and lost.

"I guess," he finally replied. "Is this whole treatment supposed to help me get over him and move on, or will it help me correct my mistakes?"

"Actually, it's supposed to help you to be able to decide for yourself which of those two options is best for you."

Blaine nodded slowly, unsure, but a little hopeful.

He didn't come to school today.

Kurt stopped in the middle of the hallway on his way to Isabelle's office, and stared at the text message from Sam. It took him a moment to react.

Do you know why? he typed in reply, as he continued on his way.

No, but he skipped Glee yesterday too. Apparently he wasn't feeling well, and he went to the nurse's office, and they called his mom. She drove him to school. He was late, too.

Blaine's mom drove him to school? And then picked him up early?

"Ouch!"

He had been staring at his phone intently and walking at the same time, so obviously he bumped into someone by accident and dropped his phone.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, bending down to pick up Kurt's phone and handed it back.

"Sorry. Thanks. So sorry. I'm fine. Sorry, Are you okay?"

Kurt checked the iPhone for any damages. He saw another message from Sam.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah..." Kurt looked up from the phone screen. "Sorry, what?"

"You've been really quiet."

"Oh, yeah, just stuff on my mind."

"Is everything okay?"

Kurt wondered how he could tell Chase to get lost without sounding rude, but he settled for a pressed-lips smile and a quick nod.

"Sorry, I've got a meeting with Isabelle. See you around," he said, briskly walking away. He could feel Chase's eyes on his back as he hurried down the rest of the way to see Isabelle. He stopped again, just outside her door, and opened the text from Sam.

Seriously, dude, is anything wrong with Blaine? Is there something wrong between the two of you? Is it his family? Give us something, man. I admit we were a little angry at him, cuz he seemed to be ignoring us, but now we're just, you know, concerned.

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Was there something wrong? Of course there was. But something much deeper was going on with Blaine, and he had no idea what it was. And for the first time since he met him, he couldn't just call Blaine or text him or go see him and find out for himself.

He hated how much he worried over him. He didn't want to. But he'd be lying if he told himself that he could just ignore this and be fine.

Kurt worried his lip for a second, tapping away on the screen.

Don't worry, Sam. I'll talk to him. Thanks for letting me know.

He locked his phone and stashed it in his pocket, and walked into Isabelle's office, putting on a nonchalant face and a disaffected smile.

Once he got home, he spent the remainder of the day holed up in the apartment, debating whether he should try to call or not.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He just wanted to know if everything was okay.

Rachel wasn't there to dissuade him.

Kurt lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling awkward. Like he had on the day after Blaine had accompanied him to confront Karofsky. He and Blaine had been practically strangers, and Blaine had faced a bully for him. He had put himself at risk for someone he had just met. It was a strange feeling of being connected to someone that he barely knew.

And he felt like he barely knew Blaine now.

But if he was honest with himself, he still knew Blaine very well. There was still a connection, one that is not easily broken.

Because before Kurt and Blaine were 'Kurt and Blaine' (or Klaine, as their friends had often referred to them fondly), they were friends. They became best friends, and they would text each other words of encouragement, listen to each other, cheer on each other. They care about and supported one another, and they were honest with each other, no matter what.

If there was any of that left there, in that vague universe that maybe still existed between them, then Kurt probably couldn't tune out his concern over Blaine any more easily than he could stop worrying about the rest of his friends, no matter how far away they could get.

He sat up in bed and grabbed his phone, and speed-dialed Blaine before he could change his mind.

He ignored the increasing rate of his heartbeat as the phone rang.

He hadn't even thought about what he was going to say.

"Hello, this is Blaine Anderson, please leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Beep.

Kurt's face fell.

He stared at his phone for a few minutes. It was early, Blaine would likely still be awake. Maybe he had left his phone in his room and he was downstairs in the kitchen. Or maybe he left it in the car.

Or maybe he just didn't want to talk to Kurt.

He waited a couple more minutes and tried again.

The call was disconnected before it even reached the voicemail message.

Okay, so Blaine knew he was calling. And he didn't want to talk to him.

That settled it then. Sam would probably text him tomorrow to find out if he knew what was wrong with Blaine. And what could he tell him?

The connection is broken.

He opened a message box to text Blaine.

Sorry I called you. I just wanted to know if you're okay.

His thumb hovered over the 'send' button.

What difference did it make anymore?

He let out a long breath. He pressed backspace enough times to delete the entire message and put his phone on the bedside table. Then he got ready to go to bed. He didn't really feel like talking to Rachel, or anyone, really.

Blaine watched his phone intently, as Kurt's face flashed across the screen and the phone vibrated, dancing on top of his bedspread.

He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine what Kurt might want to say to him, and what he'd say in reply.

The idea of something positive barely entered his mind, before it was shot right back out by a flood of doubts.

The phone stopped vibrating, and the screen went black. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief.

It had basically taken him all his willpower not to answer. He shouldn't talk to Kurt right now, he told himself, this was probably not a good time to talk to him. He knew what the sound of Kurt's voice might do to him, what it might do to everything Blaine felt he had accomplished so far.

Which was barely anything, but he still feared the setback would be considerable.

He needed to feel better first; he needed to know that he wouldn't completely crumble and ask Kurt to take him back, beg him even. Because he couldn't risk sinking into an even deeper depression when Kurt told him no, as Blaine knew he would.

He sat in the middle of his bed and took a few deep breaths and thought about distracting himself.

"Why not a journal?" Dr. Franco had said that day, earlier in their session, when Blaine asked him about alternate therapies, like Dr. Gilbert had suggested.

"A journal?"

"Yes. Try some free-writing. Put everything that's on your mind on paper. I've heard from a lot of people who come see me, that it's quite therapeutic. It's a different kind of meditation. It's like emptying your mind of thoughts."

Blaine had had, for a brief moment, the vague image of that scene in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, when Professor Dumbledore using his wand to pull his thoughts out of his head in the form of fine strands of glowing silver, and dropping it into the pensieve. What a delightful idea, to be able to do that with one's thoughts, so that the mind doesn't feel as cluttered and chaotic as it usually does.

He stood up and fetched a small Moleskine journal that was still blank, one that Cooper had gotten him years ago and that had been buried at the bottom of his desk at Dalton. He grabbed a pen from his desk and sat back in bed, wondering how to start.

The pen hovered at the top of the first page, when the phone started vibrating again.

Blaine froze, just about to stare intently at it again until it went to voicemail. But at the second ring, he snatched it up and pressed the ignore button, and the phone stopped vibrating again.

With a deep sigh, he put down the phone and started writing.

He filled three whole pages, which wasn't a lot considering how small the notebook was, but in a cramped, lopsided handwriting he hurried to write everything that crossed his mind. It was like the pen came alive on its own. It was a strange feeling, but altogether fulfilling.

When he felt like he couldn't write anymore, he put the notebook in the drawer of his bedside table. His hand hurt. He grabbed his phone and stared at the first missed call from Kurt.

Kurt had called him. And he decided to take that as a good sign, no matter what the call had been about.

As he went about getting ready for bed, he stared at the bottle of valerian root on top of his dresser.

Without thinking too much about it, he unscrewed the cap and took one capsule. He swallowed with a big gulp of water and took another deep breath. Even though he knew it might take a few days before he felt any different, he suddenly felt better. He had to get better.