AN. *peeks from behind wall* I'm an awfulawful person oh man I'm so sorry for the wait on an update. But it's here now so FINALLY.
Awesome points for people who pick up on my references here too ;)

Warnings: Um, self loathing, bullying, memories of bullying...guh I suck at warnings.
(so if anyone see's something I should/shouldn't warn...drop me a hint, please)

Anywaaaaaaay, enjoy!

It's 7am when Blaine is awakened by his alarm for yet another school day. He contemplates hitting snooze and just lying there for another few moments, but the smell of cooking and thrum of melodies coming through his cracked door evoke his curiosity too much, and in the end he hauls himself off to the bathroom for his morning routine.

Toothbrush, toothpaste. Water. Hairgel, comb, hairspray.

Blaine scrunches his nose at his reflection in the mirror once he thinks he's done. It's not the best he's looked, Blaine thinks, but he could look a lot worse.

Just as he's about to leave, a little orange tub balancing precariously on the shelf grabs his attention. Blaine almost sighs in defeat. It's as if he's spent his entire high school life drugged up on various types of medication. Well, at least that's what he tells his parents anyway; when in reality it's been a constant supply of painkillers which have recently gone up in strength. Sports injuries, he's said. Stress induced headaches, he uses frequently. I fell down the stairs last night…twice! he's even used once, in a desperate bid to explain why he urgently needed another prescription after that one time he tried to fight back against Bradley. (Hint: if it wasn't for Professor Smythe's habit of taking a shortcut between the main building and the dumpsters, Blaine wasn't sure he would've walked away). Pouting, Blaine clicked open the top and tipped a couple of white pills into his hand. He sticks the container in his pocket before half filling a glass with water and swallowing both pills in one go.

Examining his reflection again, Blaine can't help but think how much of a false pretence his whole life is. He shakes his head and ignores the fact that his only chance at relief comes from those two little blocks of powder every morning.

"You are my sunshiiiiiine, my only sunshiiiiine, you make me happyyyyyy, when skies are graaaay…"

Following what smelled like a promise of fresh pancakes and eggs, Blaine can feel a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth when he approaches the kitchen. Zach stood in front of the cooker wearing their mother's apron, skilfully tossing pancakes into the air and catching them again on the frying pan.; his hips popped from side to side in time with the beat of the music he was also singing along to. Blaine's position from the doorway was compromised however, when he caught a glance of his brothers' face and noticed the splotches of flour covering his flawless complexion.

Zach spun round and beamed at Blaine, "B! You're up! Breakfast?" he said, moving to the side to reveal a giant pile of fresh pancakes and eggs.

"Did you make these from scratch?" Blaine asked, taking a seat at the old dining table in the middle of the kitchen.

"Yup." His brother replied, not even trying to hide the pride in his voice or on his face, "The folks left early this morning, thought I'd see if this kitchen was as good as they say so."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Zach, questioning his brothers' motives. Zach sat down across from him and presented their breakfast in the middle of the table, not wasting a second before forking three pancakes onto his plate.

"Who knew something as simple as pancakes could take so much effort." He proclaimed, looking confused as he scrutinized his pancake.

Blaine just smiled and shook his head, reaching out to take a pancake from the top of the pile. He risked a glance up at Zach before striking a conversation, "So um, when are you planning on heading back to New York?"

"Sick of me already little brother? Fine, suppose I'll just have to take these then!" Zach exclaimed, reaching out and pulling the plate into his arms. Blaine gasped, mocking offense as he grabbed the plate back again.

"Not at all. I just want to know if you'll still be here for the weekend. I was thinking of going to see a movie and-"

"Aaand you want your brother to come be your wingman as you pick up some hot guy, whom you shall then go and see the movie with, not watching obviously, before whisking him away into a bathroom stall and ravishing him as I stay clueless in the lobby . Of course B, of course." Zach finished, talking sincerely like that would be the most obvious situation in the world.

Blaine laughed. A proper out loud bark of laughter. The sensation felt odd, something Blaine hadn't felt in a while. He looked over at his brother with eyes twinkling in delight. You'd never catch him saying this out loud, mainly because it would only add to the size of Zach's ego, but his brother made him happy. Really, really happy. Zach looked back at Blaine and smiled his goofy big brother smile - the one that makes his chin go a little wonky and his nose scrunches into an honest expression that just radiates home.

Zach was the first to break Blaine's little bubble of peace, "Come on, I'll give you a ride to school."

"You don't have to do that. I know you probably have other things to do." Blaine tried to protest, but before he even had both of his shoes on, his brother had whisked up Blaine's bag and was standing on the front porch.

"Blaine, get in the car." Zach said simply.

Blaine happily obliged.

It's not often that Blaine reaches the end of lunch period with a clean outfit and the hope that maybe, just maybe, today will be a good day.

With Sam out due to flu or food poisoning or whatever reason he gave for not coming in for his calculus test today, Blaine is left to wander school alone. He makes a detour by his locker to swap some books for todays remaining classes, and it isn't until he's about to close his locker that all his hopes of a good day are dashed in the second it takes for the slushie to fill his pores.

"Looks like even Sammy boy has come to his senses and ditched you, fag!" comes the sneer soon after, and Blaine thinks he would've rather taken another slushie to the face than hear those words. It takes him a second to feel around in his locker for the towel he keeps there in case of emergencies like this. And even after the majority of the ice is gone from his face, hair and clothes, it still takes him a moment to notice the damage. But when Blaine sees it, it's like a blow to the stomach.

The photograph Blaine kept pinned to his locker was ruined. Obviously the angle those assholes had thrown at had been further into his locker than he thought. Blaine carefully removed the photo and tried his best to wipe the ice and dye from it, but his attempts were wasted. The dye and colours had blended together too much; changing what used to be a photograph of him and Zach sitting on the bonnet of Blaine's first car, arms around each other's shoulders and alike grins on their faces, into a blob of tones. Ignoring the pressure building behind his eyes, Blaine tossed the photo into his locker and slammed it shut; walking in the opposite direction of his English literature class with no intention of turning around.

Blaine thought back to how he and Zach had sang along to "Highway To Hell" obnoxiously loudly as Zach drove him to school, something which should have made him smile.

But instead, Blaine now thought of how he finally understood irony.

He reaches his destination and pushes the door to the library open. As soon as it closes the noise and bustle of McKinley is blanked out, allowing Blaine to relax a little. He walks to the furthest away corner, giving the librarian a tiny smile as he passes, and drops down into the chair. Before making himself comfortable Blaine pulls off his sweater and hangs it along the radiator adjacent to him - leaving him in just his undershirt. He then reaches into his bag and pulls out a book, the pages worn with age and use; quotes circled and favourite passages highlighted.

Wiping at his eyes a little, Blaine curls up into the chair and reopens the book at a familiar page. He re-joins The Land Of Stories, not for the first time wishing that he could join the twins and fall into a fairytale too.

After a lack of small and curly in Kurt's class today, he's not too surprised when he finds Blaine huddled into himself in a far away corner of the library. He begins to head toward Blaine when- oh snap, is he only in his undershirt? Kurt drifts for a moment, appreciating the way Blaine's muscled arms flex slightly with every tiny movement, and the smooth, tan skin over his chest that leads up to his face – a face with an expression that punches Kurt in the soul. Right. Student, Kurt, stop it. He knows this is the right moment. Cautiously, Kurt wanders over and sits himself gently in the chair next to Blaine. Blaine doesn't acknowledge his presence, but Kurt knows Blaine is aware of him.

After a moment in silence, Kurt recognises the old worn out book Blaine is cradling in his hands, and smiles.

"You know um, they have hardback editions of that too. Seems like you need a new one." Kurt tries, gaining no kind of response from Blaine.

Swallowing slightly, he tries a different angle, "A flame may love a snowflake, but they can never be together without harming the other. Chapter 10, page 234," that gains a flick of Blaine's eyes in his direction, so he continues, "Fairytales are very good to read. I've read a lot of books, fairytales and not, and trust me when I say that book…it's something magical."

"I know." Blaine says quietly, not looking away from the pages.

Kurt smiles in reply; steeling himself in the moment because he knows it's now or never, and never just isn't an option anymore. "Look, Blaine...I know when people say to you, 'oh I know how you feel' you think…how? How do you know what I feel like right now? And for most people, you'd be right to question that. But every now and then you encounter someone who really does know how you feel because…" Kurt stops to take a shaky breath, focusing on the table in front of him and pushing down the emotions battling to break through his voice, "…because maybe they've been in your position. Maybe when they were your age, they had people like Bradley, and people in the rest of the school who saw everything first hand but never spoke up when it mattered most." Kurt's face twisted in disgust, "Maybe…maybe they couldn't help themselves, they just gave up and let the pain take over until they could get out of that hell hole and be free, but that just makes them all the more determined to prevent anyone else from following their path…to show just one person that they're not alone…" Kurt trailed off, not quite realising how much he'd said.

At some point after beginning to stare at the table, Kurt had failed to notice Blaine looking up from his book and giving Kurt all his attention. It wasn't until Blaine spoke that Kurt remembered exactly where he was and why.

"Why are you telling me this?" Blaine asked softly, timidly keeping eye contact with the teacher.

"Because I want to show you why I care. So maybe you'll open up to me. I don't know. I just want…need to help you, Blaine."

Kurt looked intently into Blaine's eyes, trying to show as much sincerity and promise as he could from his blue eyes into Blaine's brown, which right at this moment remind him significantly of that of a puppy's.

The door to the library opens and they are both brought roughly back to oh yeah, McKinley. Kurt reaches into his pocket for a slip of paper, creased and a little smudged from the number of times he's tossed it between his hands, waiting for the right moment to give it to Blaine since his evening with Quinn.

Kurt looks up at Blaine a little sheepishly, "I, um, I know this is very unprofessional of me. But I also know what it's like to need someone to unload to." He leans over and drops the paper onto Blaine's open book, pausing on his way back over. Watching Blaine very carefully, Kurt lightly grasps Blaine's hand in his, tracing his thumb in circles over Blaine's knuckles. When Blaine doesn't retract, Kurt takes it as an invitation to continue. "Don't be afraid to use it." he finishes with a smile, and with one final squeeze to Blaine's hand Kurt turns and walks back out of the library, ignoring the pounding in his chest.

Blaine watches him leave; too scared to move in case the whole moment falls apart. As soon as Kurt disappears from the door, Blaine's gaze drops to the worn little piece of paper on his book. He watches the paper, as if waiting for it to spontaneously combust or something, all the while ignoring the strange tingling sensation across his hand. Blaine thinks if he concentrated hard enough, he'd still be able to feel the soothing circles over his hand.

He subconsciously wonders what it'd be like to have that sensation again.

It's late when Kurt hears his ringtone from the other room, and it takes all of his self-control not to dive from his bed to the couch. Not getting my hopes up, he thinks.

Kurt opens the message. Only a simple one worded text, but at the same time it's enough to make Kurt want to explode with relief and happiness and love and…love?

"Okay.

x"

Oh.

Tadaaaaaa... :)
I have the next chapter almost completely planned out, so it shouldn't be too long before the next update. It won't be as long as this one though omg.

Thank you for reading! A review is always encouragement.

:)