A/N: SHE'S ALIVE! Hello, everyone! Missed me? I didn't

OoooOoooO

It had been a week from when Blaine had serenaded Kurt, and both boys had been growing steadily closer ever since. Not only did they find common interests in music, films and their hobbies, but they also found a sense of protection and stability within each other that never seemed to occur when surrounded by the Warblers or the thousands of other students at Dalton.

They had become absolutely inseparable once Blaine had disclosed that he'd like nothing more than to help Kurt in any way he could. If they weren't out getting coffee at the nearby Lima Bean or sharing similar thoughts about a recent issue of Vogue, then they'd be knuckling down in either the library or their dorm rooms doing homework.

This is what they had come to find themselves doing on one particularly chilly Wednesday evening just before Christmas break. They'd unanimously decided to finally start on their English assignment that was due next week, to which they had both ended up thankful in being paired up for.

Kurt had made himself comfortable, lying on his stomach in front of the warm, crackling open fire that was situated within the Statham household's library whilst Blaine, on the other hand, chose to sit opposite him, his elbows propped up on his numb crossed legs.

"Kurt, I can't take this anymore!" Blaine whined as he threw his pen into the open copy of the book he'd received. Kurt didn't make any attempt at hiding his giggle at the sight of the ever frustrated Blaine, a boy who was always so put-together and rarely voiced his aggravation.

"Come on, just one more hour. Then we can go back to my room, bury ourselves under my comforter, drink hot chocolate and watch a movie of your choice. How does that sound?"

Blaine closed his eyes, feeling and craving the warmth of the image that was being created in his mind. He hummed with content, "That sounds perfect. But do I have to sit here for an entire hour, really? We've already been in here for 3!"

Kurt shrugged and returned his attention back to what he's been writing in his notebook. "Either you stay here for that duration, or you don't get any cocoa. It's up to you, Mr. Anderson." He said nonchalantly while twirling his pen around his pale, lithe fingers. Kurt didn't even need to look up to know that Blaine would be pouting like a child.

"Meany." The shorter boy muttered once he realized Kurt wasn't going to give him mercy. He sighed heavily, picked up his biro and tried his hardest to continue working with the promise of movies and hot chocolate (At this point, he'd do anything that would get him away from doing this assignment).

But, alas, it appeared that Blaine's brain did not want to cooperate and had officially switched off for the evening. Instead, he decided to watch Kurt. He gazed, completely mesmerized, as the light from the fire gently danced across the sharp, yet utterly soft contours of the countertenor's face. He watched as Kurt delicately nibbled on the end of his pen, something Blaine knew the boy did whenever he was concentrating or lost in his own thoughts.

Blaine caught himself staring at Kurt a lot since they'd become closer; when they were alone and just talking, Blaine loved studying Kurt's facial expressions and animated hand gestures, especially if he got really excited or livid about something. When Blaine convinced Kurt to go to the park down the street with him once, he felt his heart stop and start each time the paler boy smiled or Blaine heard his musical laugh drift through the cold December air.

It may have only been a week, but Blaine was starting to feel like he knew Kurt better than he knew himself sometimes.

"Shouldn't you be staring at your work?" He jumped slightly at the sound of Kurt's voice, which he could hear was thickly laced with mirth. After the Warbler got over his initial embarrassment at being caught gawking somewhat openly, he found the countertenor looking at him, a mixture of joy and wonder glowing from his beautiful cerulean eyes, his pale cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

"P-probably, but I-I don't want to."

Kurt's once flushed stained skin deepened to a scarlet red as he ducked his head to avoid Blaine's piercing gaze. "So… What would you rather be staring at, then?"

The Warbler considered retorting with a remark he knew would make the countertenor blush further, but he'd already made an ass out of himself as it was. So he settled for, "I want to gaze upon the lush, golden locks of thy maiden, Repunzel."

Kurt rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile at the goofy boy who had not only snuck his way into the countertenor's life without him realizing it, but had also become his best friend. And with that, he decided to just give up, knowing he wasn't going to get any more work out of Blaine tonight.

"Fine, but just for that, you have to work twice as hard tomorrow. Understood?" Kurt mentioned as he packed his things away.

Once they were both ready and standing, Blaine saluted him with a firm, "Sir, yes Sir!"

Kurt playfully bumped shoulders with the Warbler as they exited the third floor library. They chatted quietly about different kinds of things; everything from Kurt's friends back home in Lima (Skillfully avoiding anything to do with Sebastian, courtesy of careful planning done on his part), to the Elizabeth Taylor auction that he had actively bid in which ended at midnight.

As Kurt was chatting about how many items he had missed out on, Blaine kept thinking of the one thing he wanted to tell him… What he'd wanted to tell him for the past couple of days, actually. It was to do with the reason as to why Blaine was at Dalton in the first place. Early on before they had even started getting to know one another, they had promised to be there for each other if they ever needed to talk, but had also sworn to never force or push the other into giving out information if they didn't want to. This had ended up creating a firm foundation for their friendship, and knew it would work for them in the long run. But now, much earlier than Blaine had anticipated, he felt the desperate urge to tell Kurt the truth. Not bits and pieces of it like they'd both been doing, no; but the real, honest to God, sordid truth that Blaine had been burdened to carry since he was a child.

Once Kurt had calmed down from his excitement over jewelry he wasn't likely ever to see or own, the rest of the walk towards his dorm was silent, yet comfortable and when they had finally gotten inside, Blaine immediately removed his blazer, tie and shoes in favor of jumping onto Kurt's bed and snuggling down into the royal blue comforter he had recently put on.

"Gee, come on in. Make yourself comfortable." Kurt muttered sarcastically as he pottered about his room removing various items of clothing, sometimes collecting things he would need to get ready for bed after Blaine left.

"I will thanks!" The shorter boy exaggerated his point by burying himself further under the quilt, tucking the top tight around his neck. "Speaking of which – I seriously need to steal your bed. It is so much comfier than mine!"

Kurt stopped to look at the childish grin that Blaine was wearing and placed his hands on his hips with a mock glare. "You know I don't just let anybody make themselves at home in my bed. You're lucky I like you."

"Yeah, but we both know that wasn't always the case." The Warbler sat up straight now, his voice dropping in volume as if he was waiting for the countertenor to bite back with a sarcastic remark. So he was shocked to find that when he looked up from under his ridiculously long and thick eyelashes, that Kurt's demeanor had changed. His shoulders were relaxed and he had his gaze set upon the floor in, what appeared to be, shame.

"Blaine, you do know I'm sorry for anything I said or did, right?"

He smiled slightly at Kurt, who now conveyed the image of a little kid expecting to be reprimanded for his wrong doings. "Of course I do, Kurt. Come here." He lightly patted the space next to him on the bed and patiently sat there as the countertenor made his way over, sitting cross legged beside Blaine. "There's actually something I've wanted to speak to you about."

"Oh? What is it?"

Blaine started playing with a loose thread on the comforter that he found easier to focus on than Kurt. "Do you remember the promise we made each other last week?"

"Absolutely, and I completely respect it." Kurt replied in earnest.

"Well, I think… No, I know I'm ready to tell you." He turned his attention to Kurt when he received no response. "Please say something."

"Are you sure?" Kurt breathed once he regained some composure. The idea of trusting someone so early on in a friendship (or any kind of relationship) was a somewhat foreign concept to Kurt. He spent half of his life hiding who he was, and when he told those around him the truth, he spent the rest of it with walls built high around his emotions because everyone he knew treated him like dirt. And as for those who weren't his friends or his father… they just didn't care about him enough to stop those who would actively show their disgust.

He was used to keeping things to himself due to everyone being too self-absorbed to aid him in his life and problems; so over the past week, when he'd have to bury these desires to tell Blaine of all he's suffered, it scared him to no end. Here he was, a perfect stranger, but a person Kurt wanted to tell things to that even those closest to him didn't know.

Kurt shook his head of his thoughts - he could think and sort out all these overpowering feelings when he was alone, but as of right now, Blaine needed him and his full concentration.

Blaine slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm sure. I didn't think I'd be ready so soon, but for some reason… I trust you. And although it feels nice to finally have someone to share this with, I am absolutely petrified of what you'll say. And you're friendship means the world to me."

Kurt smiled some and rested his hand between Blaine's shoulder blades in an act of comfort, lightly letting his thumb caress that small area. "Believe me; I know exactly how you feel."

Blaine took a deep breath, silently preparing the start of his story so he at least felt somewhat in control. With a shaky exhale and the feeling of having the weight of the world on his shoulders, Blaine began to speak. "Growing up in the household I did, was never easy for me. Don't get me wrong, it started off good; I was happy and I had a healthy relationship with my parents. My dad used to take Cooper and I out on the weekends to the nearby park just so he could spend time with us and catch up on the things he missed during the day… He even used to hug me at night before I went to sleep, telling me I could be anything I wanted to be. The best part of all, the reason I loved and respected him so much, was that he did all of it because he wanted to. Most of the boys I knew back then didn't even have fathers, so I considered myself lucky.

Then, when I was around the age of nine, I began to notice a strain on my parent's relationship that hadn't been there before. He stopped giving my mom kisses in the morning, stopped calling during the late afternoons to see if Coop and I had gotten home okay… I rarely got to see him once things changed. I'd always be in bed by the time he came stumbling through the door." By this point, Blaine had shifted until he was sitting on the very edge of the bed – his eyes locked onto his feet, disgrace and pure abhorrence masking his usually serene features.

Kurt gently took one of the younger boy's hands, which he had balled into fists whilst talking, inside his own and began to rub what he'd hoped were soothing circles onto the smooth, tanned skin. "Blaine, please don't feel pressured into telling me this if it hurts too much. I won't think any less of you."

The shorter one of the two looked up and what Kurt saw there nearly broke his heart.

Blaine was biting down hard on his bottom lip which, from what Kurt could see, was shaking rather violently as the Warbler tried to hold back the gut wrenching sobs that threatened to overtake him. And his usually happy, hazel eyes with their constant child-like excitement and innocence were now clouded with sorrow and a faint sign of unshed tears.

He nervously got himself and his emotions under control before speaking again, and tried with all his might to rid his conscience of any of the doubts he'd had about wanting to tell Kurt what he deserved to know. All of which were now beginning to resurface. "I-I want to tell you. I'm just not used to having someone t-to share this with. It's been a while since I've spoken about it."

Kurt smiled with adoration; the overwhelming feeling of awe towards Blaine's bravery filling up his heart. "Anyway, things continued to get worse – they would lock me in my room for long periods of time with the stereo turned up excruciatingly loud so I wouldn't hear their arguments." Blaine persisted once he felt like he could speak without the occasional sob trying to break its way through. "Coop would always come in afterwards and tell me stories until I fell asleep, telling me it'd be alright if I ever asked what was going to happen to our parents… And although I knew he was lying to me, I still believed him because I wanted so badly for it to be the truth. Anything that meant my life could go back to the way it was.

And I held on to what Coop told me – that our mom and dad would work things it out. But it wasn't until one night during my summer holidays that I knew just how bad it had gotten…"

OoooOoooO

His eyes shot open immediately at the sound of his dads bellowing voice coming from down the hall; at the sound of yet another argument slowly beginning to brew between the two people that used to be his role models.

Normally once Coop had sung him to sleep, Blaine would be out like a light up to when morning came. But on tonight of all nights, he had found himself tossing and turning, incessantly being woken by frightening images that shouldn't be so vivid in a 9 year olds mind. Ones Blaine knew would haunt him long past his teenage years.

"You're nothing but a useless little slut, aren't you?!" Blaine winced at the slurred, yet still harsh tone of his father's words, and buried his head between his soft, comforting pillows that smelled like his older brother. He tried his best to ignore the stream of tears making their way down his face – the knowledge of Cooper staying at a friend's house at the forefront of his thoughts as the shouting got louder and closer.

"George, be quiet! You'll wake Bee up!" His mother kept her voice hushed, but it didn't make a difference as the 9 year old heard everything; every word, every sniffle and every power struggle between the two.

"Like I give a fuck! He's just as useless as you, you-" Blaine squeezed the pillow tighter against his ears, to the point where it brought him pain. The faint sound of a door being slammed broke through the barrier of the pillow, so he knew his parents were now in their room.

As he repeatedly played all the stories and songs Cooper had ever told him, he was reminded of the emergency mobile his older brother had left under the bed in case something like this happened when he wasn't there to protect Blaine. So, he quickly jumped out of bed and waved his hand under the bed blindly, to the moment it came into contact with one of his trainers that he used to wear when playing soccer.

With shaky fingers and his ears trained to listen out for any movement from his mom or dad – who had gone awfully quiet by that stage – he managed to pull the phone out from the shoe and text a short message.

To MiniCooper:

Help me, Coop. Mom and Dad are fihdjdsa.

Blaine's fingers slipped as he jumped at the ear shattering scream that came from his mother. Without a second thought, he pressed 'Send' and dropped the phone on the floor, immediately tripping and stumbling his way across the hall to his parent's bedroom door.

After he burst inside, Blaine could have only wished he'd never seen what he saw before him again.

To his right stood his father, breathing heavily – utter hatred burning like fire and penetrating from his lidded eyes, a scowl etched upon his lips. A far cry from the man Blaine used to look up to; a man who had been so loving and caring, a man who was once respected among his friends and colleagues. How could someone like that become the broken and hurtful monster that towered over him now?

But the weak person his father had become was just a fleeting observation subsequent to seeing his mom. She was lying on the floor next to the bedside table, which had now toppled over and was surrounded by shattered glass from the lamp that once sat on it. Her hands cradled the left side of her face and when she looked up into Blaine's eyes, he didn't see the shock he thought he would at being caught in such a situation. Instead, he saw the agony, the denial and the outright raw fear in her ocean blue gaze. He saw things his father was meant to defend her from, not be the cause of.

"Mom?" Blaine's voice cracked with distress as he ran over to aid her in sitting up. "Mommy, are you okay?" The tender, compassionate tone of her 9 year old son didn't sooth her. It only made her cry harder for she wished she could be as strong as him. That and the last thing she wanted was for her 'husband' to steal Blaine's purity and ability to see the beauty in the world. To look past such arrogance and inhumane behavior that his own father was embodying now.

Blaine wrapped his arms around his mother at the sight of her fresh tears. "It'll be okay, Mama. I'll look after you, I promise!" He repeated these words like a mantra in an effort to calm her down. Just when he thought it was working, he felt an unbearably tight grip begin to rip his hold away from her and haul him across the room. "Mama!" Blaine kicked and screamed as he was dragged along the carpet towards their en suite bathroom. For every shriek he let out, his father's grip on his tiny arms got tauter and stronger.

In the end, all his efforts to struggle came to no avail. He was forced to watch the tormented face of his mother get smaller and smaller until the image became nothing but a blur as he was thrown into the bathroom – the tiles cold and hard against his perspiring skin. The door was slammed shut in his face just as he had gotten up to run back to his mother's side. What he heard following that filled him with panic, but only reinforced his need to get back out there.

With each ounce of his strength, Blaine balled his fists and punched the door as tough as he could. "Let me out, Daddy! Please!" The tears Blaine refused to shed were fast making their way down his flushed cheeks – leaving icy, numb tracks in their wake. "Daddy!"

Every time Blaine heard his mom's cries of anguish or heard another item of furniture being broken or crashed into, he punched and yelled that much louder. Eventually he turned around, his back hitting the wooden obstacle with a thud, and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor, his knees cradled to his chest. He hid his head in his lap, desperately attempting to block out the sounds of a scene he couldn't stop or fix; hell, he didn't even know how it had come to this. He continued to weep, waiting for the moment where he'd be met with complete silence.

In the end, when the quiet came, Blaine listened for any signs of movement, but could only hear the familiar roar of his dads car engine starting up outside.

He lifted himself onto his knees and tentatively called out, "Mama?" – but the peace that greeted him made his heart race with worry and terror. He regained all of his strength and fight, as he began to pound his little fists upon the locked door once more; all the while ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his body as his raw and bloodied hands relentlessly made contact with the one thing that was separating him and his mother.

"Mom! Mom, please answer me… Please." The last word came out as a whisper as he curled into a ball on the floor with his back flush with the wood of the door, tears prickling his eyes at all the scenarios running through his head. Not long after, did he finally succumb to the pending darkness.

OoooOoooO

Hours, maybe even minutes later, Blaine woke up to the familiar voice of his brother in the distance. He mumbled out Cooper's name through his exhaustion, trying his best to lift his body onto shaky arms. At first, confusion gripped onto him as to why he was in his parent's bathroom, until realization dawned on him and the memories came flooding back. "Coop!"

He picked himself up as he heard the voice get closer. "Where are you bud – Oh my God!"

Blaine's breathing quickened. "Coop? What's wrong? Let me out, please!" He waited anxiously, listening closely to the shuffling he heard coming from the other room. The bathroom door suddenly swung open and Blaine immediately ran into Cooper's outstretched arms. He never thought he could miss his brother's touch so much in a short amount of time, but being here, enclosed in his strong, warm embrace made Blaine feel safe and loved – a feeling that would hardly ever get old.

Cooper pulled back and gently held Blaine's face in his hands. "Are you alright, Bud?"

The little child sniffled lightly and gave a frail smile, "I'm fine. Where's Mama?"

Stillness was all that followed. Instead of answering him, Cooper simply lifted his kid brother with ease and carried him out of their parent's bedroom. Blaine concealed his face into Cooper's neck, inhaling the calming cologne; he didn't need to look up to know that as they retreated, his mother's face would be grey and pale, her piercing eyes beyond the realm of lifeless. He didn't need to be reminded that he'd never get to see nor hear his mother sing ever again.

He didn't want to be reminded, that apart from Cooper, he'd spend the rest of his life alone.

OoooOoooO

"Oh my God." Kurt whispered. Not once, since the day he had met Blaine, did he think he would be sitting his dorm listening to, what could only be described, as the most heart wrenching and vile story he'd ever come across. He didn't even know what to feel; part of him wanted to just seep into Blaine's skin and remove all the memories and the grief from his mind, but another part of him wanted to find the boy's dad and kick the living shit out of him. The latter gradually beginning to take over.

From where he was sitting, he could see Blaine's cheeks glisten where a few tears had fallen free. He hesitantly lifted his fingers and used his thumb to wipe and caress Blaine's face. After tensing at the sudden contact that brought him out of his dark, depressing state of mind, Kurt felt him slowly lean into the touch.

Blaine's voice broke slightly as he quietly said, "There i-isn't a day goes by where I d-don't miss her or want to tell her about something that has h-happened."

Kurt felt his heart break for the thousandth time that evening, for he knew exactly how Blaine was feeling. Only Kurt was lucky enough to still have his father, one who loved and cherished him for everything he was – although granted, Blaine did still have his brother, but it just wasn't the same as having a parental figure. "Come here," Kurt shifted and lay back against the headboard, swiftly opening his arms to the troubled teen.

Blaine watched as he was reminisced of all of the times Cooper had sat and listened to him as he spoke of his fears and anger towards their dad; knowing that he'd be there to hold him at the end of it, and made sure Blaine knew he would always be by his side.

Eventually, he moved until he was comfortably curled into Kurt. After a few minutes of silence, where the countertenor listened to the gradually calming breaths emitting from the Warbler's tired and wary body, Blaine mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You probably think I'm some crazy nut-bag who urgently needs a shrink or-"

"Blaine, shut up." Kurt chuckled, making the other smile as he felt the vibrations run through the warm form beneath his. He loved hearing Kurt's tinkling laugh; it always made him feel better. "I don't think you need a shrink. I'm just glad you had your brother at the end of the day."

"Me too. God knows where I'd be without him. He sacrificed everything to keep me safe and worked so hard to get me where I am today. He really is my rock… As cheesy as that sounds."

Kurt smiled a bit, "It isn't cheesy if it's true."

Blaine lifted his head to look the countertenor in the eye. "And when did you become so full of wisdom, oh great one?"

"Hey! I've always been full of wisdom. It's just gone to waste being surrounded by hooligans like you all day."

"I resent that." The Warbler muttered as he returned to the relaxing position he was in before. "But thank you, Kurt. For listening and… Well, for just being here. It means a lot to me that you stayed."

The taller one of the two wrapped Blaine further into his embrace and squeezed him a little. "I'm not going anywhere," He whispered gently into the crazy mass of curls that sat just below his chin. "I'll always be here for you."

"Thank you." Blaine repeated softly as his breathing evened out and he fell into a peaceful sleep – something he hadn't been able to do since that fateful night when he'd lost the only person that ever truly understood him.

Once Kurt knew Blaine had fallen into unconsciousness and wasn't going to wake up any time soon, he finally let himself shed tears for his best friend.