It was two in the morning, according to Blaine's alarm clock. The red letters stood out against the pitch black of his room. He wasn't really sure why he was awake. He had been asleep just a second ago, hadn't he?

"And if you have a minute why don't we go…"

Oh, that was why.

He reached over groggily and snatched his iPhone from his nightstand. He must have forgotten to turn the ringer off tonight.

It was a good thing he had, though, because the ringtone currently blaring was Kurt's.

"Hello?" he asked sleepily once he'd answered.

"Blaine?" asked a high-pitched voice.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asked, sitting up. He was awake now. Kurt's voice never got that high pitched, unless he was nervous, worried, or scared.

"Blaine, I had a bad dream." Kurt said, his voice cracking a bit. He sounded upset.

"Oh my God, Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine said softly, upset now that his boyfriend was.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Kurt asked, reminding Blaine of a small child.

"Kurt, I'd love to drive over, but my parents are kind of out for the weekend, and they kind of stole my keys so I wouldn't go anywhere." Blaine said, sighing.

"I know, Blaine," Kurt huffed, sounding a bit annoyed, "That's why I drove over. I told Carole that Mercedes had a midnight text breakup, and she needed a shoulder to cry on."

Kurt made it sound so easy, he really did. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how he could so fluently lie to his parents on the spot and actually convince them. Whenever he tried to lie, his palms would sweat and he'd stutter like crazy. It was pretty bad.

"Look outside your window." Kurt said.

Blaine stumbled out of bed, nearly falling flat on his face in his haste, and tore back the curtain hanging daintily in front of his window. In the soft light of a nearby street lamp, he saw Kurt, who was on the phone and looking directly at his window. He waved, and Blaine waved back eagerly. Kurt was wearing nothing but his maroon silk pajamas, the ones Blaine had seen him wear many a time when they Skyped before bed.

"One sec, Kurt." He promised, holding up a finger.

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto his desk before rushing to his dresser in a hurry. He quickly threw on some plaid pajama pants (because he didn't exactly deem a t-shirt and boxer-briefs an appropriate outfit to meet Kurt in) before practically running downstairs.

Blaine flung the front door open and was instantly tackle-hugged by his boyfriend.

"Blaine," Kurt whimpered, "Don't ever leave me, okay?"

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine coaxed, breaking the tight embrace but holding Kurt's hand for comfort, "Let's go upstairs."

He led Kurt up to his room, semi-embarrassed by the mess he hadn't bothered to clean up. Kurt instantly kicked off the flip flops (he really must have been in a rush to get here if he wore flip flops) he'd been sporting and flopped on Blaine's bed. Blaine settled slowly on the other side. Kurt shifted closer to him and threw his arms around his neck, pressing his forehead into Blaine's neck.

"It was scary, Blaine," he said softly, his voice shaky with tears, "Everyone in my family died, and then I was all alone. Then, you said that it was all my fault and you broke up with me, and then you turned everyone against me and you all burned me at a stake and I know it sounds stupid and childish, but it was so real, Blaine."

"I know," Blaine said soothingly, slowly rubbing Kurt's back, "But it was just a dream. You're here with me now. Kurt, I would never turn against you, you know that. I love you, and so does everyone else. I'll always be here to protect you."

Kurt sniffled, nodding slowly. Blaine smiled and held him closer as he kept rubbing his back, humming softly. He kissed his forehead, before whispering "Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Blaine." Kurt mumbled, already half asleep.

Made for hedgerose