I stare out the lake, watching with disinterest as two young boys splash in the water. They sound and look so happy. I can distantly remember that feeling. I can remember laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, I can remember the rush after a performance, and basking in the applause.

I can't pinpoint the exact moment that feeling began to crumble. It was a gradual process, barely noticeable. And when I finally noticed, it was much, much too late.

A tear slides down my cheek, but I don't have the energy to wipe it away. I don't have the energy to move at all. I know I can't stay here forever, but my body doesn't want to move. I'm like a statue, still and unblinking, sitting cross legged on the grass. It's not until I hear his voice that I'm startled into action.

"Blaine."

I jump and tilt my head up to look at the boy standing beside me. He's breathtakingly beautiful, tall and graceful with clear blue-green eyes and adorable elfish features. My breath hitches in my throat and I stand, swallowing. "Kurt," I whisper, my voice dry and cracking from the tears I've cried.

His eyes instantly soften and he opens his arms silently. I throw myself at him, burying my face in his neck. I'm shaking and sobbing all over again, clinging tightly to him.

Kurt rubs my back gently, whispering sweet words of comfort in my ear. I drink in his scent before pulling away and attempting to collect myself. "You came," I say quietly.

Kurt cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at me. "Of course I came, " he answers, confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

I sigh and look away. "I-I don't know," I admit softly.

Kurt watches me closely. "What happened tonight, Blaine?"

I shut my eyes tightly. "Please, can I just go to your house and sleep?" I murmur softly "I don't want to think about it right now."

I can't see him, but I can feel the disapproval radiating from him. However, he doesn't argue. I let him take my hand and lead me to the car.

I never look back.

X-X-X-X-X-X

When we get to Kurt's house, all the lights are on even though it's midnight. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. My call had been rather startling.

Kurt parks smoothly and turns to me with an unreadable expression. I stare back at him, sleepiness washing over me. I really wasn't feeling that well. I suppose walking for ten miles in the rain will do that.

He steps out of the car and I follow suit, grabbing his hand and firmly grasping it. I need the physical contact to keep myself calm.

The door opens before we even reach the steps and Burt is standing there. He gazes at me, his brows furrowed in concern. I instantly lower my head. This shouldn't be happening. I shouldn't be bothering these people this late at night.

"Blaine... Are you okay, son?"

I clear my throat, still looking down. "Fine, sir."

"I told you to quit with the sir. Call me Burt."

"I'm sorry, si- Burt," I apologize automatically, scuffing the dirt with my toe.

Burt stares at me for a minute and sighs deeply, backing up to clear the doorway. "Come in and change. You can sleep in Kurt's room tonight, but only tonight. We'll fix the guest bedroom up for you tomorrow."

"Thanks," I murmur quietly as Kurt tugs me toward the stairs. I collapse on his bed, mumbling incoherently into the sheets.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Kurt says as he searches through his closet for clothes I can sleep in.

"I said your bed is soft," I snuggle under the covers. It smells like Kurt and the whole effect of it is making me drowsy.

"Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable yet. You have to change. Get up."

I ignore him, hugging his pillows tightly.

"Blaine Anderson, you are not sleeping in my bed in wet clothes. Get the hell up."

I grumble and kick my way out of the blankets, grabbing the shirt and sweatpants Kurt is holding. I peel my damp shirt off, wincing as the effort pulls on my strained back. Yeah, I was definitely going to feel that in the morning.

"Blaine," Kurt says quietly.

I turn to him, blinking. "What?"

"What happened to your back?"

My blood runs cold. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean there's a huge bruise on your lower back that wasn't there earlier."

"I fell," I shrug, tugging on the sweatpants and climbing into bed. "It was a result of my own clumsiness, nothing more."

Kurt's eyes narrow. "Lucky for you, it's late and I'm tired," he says evenly. "Tomorrow, I will find out why you called me crying hysterically, walked ten miles in the rain, and appeared with a bruise on your back," he flips off the light and crawls into bed without another word.

I shiver, knowing very well he wasn't joking.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"You're disgusting."

"I can't believe you're doing this to us. Look at your poor mother. Don't you care about what this is doing to her?"

"I would rather kill myself than live with the fact that my son is gay."

"What am I going to tell the church? Oh God, the things they are going to think."

"I always thought you were a good kid. My boy... As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a son anymore."

I jerk up, cold sweating soaking my shirt and the memories of those last words reverberating through my mind. I gasp for breath, feeling sick and rush to the bathroom. I barely manage to make it to the toilet before I'm puking. I puke until there's nothing left and I'm sitting there, sobbing and dry-heaving. My head throbs painfully and my back screams for mercy. I don't want to move, I don't want to think, I don't want to remember.

"Blaine?"

I freeze at his sleepy voice. "Go back to bed, Kurt," I murmur quietly, keeping my head down.

He ignores me and kneels down, rubbing my shoulders soothingly. "What's wrong, baby?"

I snort and another small sob escapes. "Everything," I whisper.

Kurt kisses the side of my neck and I lean into him, closing my eyes. "Tell me about it," he pleads softly, wrapping his arms around me. "Please."

I stiffen, trying to pull away, but he's not letting me budge. "I don't want to talk about it," I say simply. It's the truth. I'm trying so hard to black it out, trying to forget.

Kurt hugs me tightly. "Blaine, you're scaring me," he says his voice pained. "Please... I have to know what's going on."

I swallow and start to shake as the words and images fly through my mind once more. The dry-heaving begins again and my back groans in protest. Oh God, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe.

"Kurt," I gasp out, my breath coming in fast, frantic bursts. He shushes me, drawing me close and stroking my hair. I sob, clinging to him and fighting the words running rampant through my head.

Kurt has tears running silently down his cheeks. "Shhh, baby," he chants, tangling his fingers in my hair. "It's okay, you're okay. They're not here, they can't hurt you anymore. I promise."

I shake my head violently and gulp in mouthfuls of air, burying my face in his neck. "Please don't make me talk about it," I beg desperately. "I can't... I can't do it right now. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it's a lot to call you and not tell you any-"

"Hush," Kurt interrupts, pushing me away so we're staring at each other with eyes bright with tears. "You don't have to apologize," he says firmly. He stands, holding out his hand. I take it and let him pull me up.

Kurt looks at me sadly and I cringe. That's twice tonight I've made someone look like that. If he notices the expression on my face, he chooses to ignore it and squeezes my hand as he leads me back to his room.

Ten minutes later, Kurt is snoring softly and I'm staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Unwilling to face the monsters that haunt my dreams.