Obnoxiously long AN. Skip if you'd like, it's not overly pertinent to understanding the story.

You guys are all so, so lovely. Just saying :] Sorry this took a little while! I got busy with Christmas, and then the night I started writing this chapter, my friend and I watched some To Catch a Predator, and then with every piece of dialogue I wrote for Blaine at that point, I was like, "Oh God, he sounds like a child molester." Anyways. I got past that; Kurt is not a child, and Blaine's intentions are most definitely not sexual, which is yet another thing that I adore about him. And it's CHRISTMAS (ish. I'm a bit late.) , so yay!

A couple people have asked me what Kurt looks like physically, which is an awesome question because I've totally been avoiding that in the fic because I've been debating it. So – Kurt's cat characteristics: he has furry ears and a furry tail, and he has fur on head as well, instead of hair – it's not short fur, though. It's long and resembles hair, though the texture is more fur-like and it's very fine, so it gets tangled easily. His fur also extends more around his face and neck than normal human hair would. Also, his eyes and facial features are cat-like. However, they're not so cat-like that it prevented Tom from disguising himself as a human with facial features that are just uniquely distinctive. And as you've seen, Kurt also has cat-like qualities: he liked the shiny Christmas balls and lights, he enjoys being petted and sort of rubs up against Blaine when he wants physical affection, he curls up on Blaine's lap, is curious but also likes to laze about, likes his stomach rubbed when he really, really trusts someone (not at that point yet with Blaine, but he was with his human mother), purrs and meows, all that kind of stuff. Hope that clears it up a bit!

Also – this is technically part one of this chapter. Second half will be up soon, once I get the chance to go over it and fix a few things. I'm sorry about the cliffhanger at the end of this one, but it will all work out, and I really want to do justice to the next scene before posting it.

Over the next few days, under Blaine's tender care and guiding hand, Kurt's wounds gradually began to heal, his strength returning slowly. The two had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of life, not fully at ease with each other, but each growing used to the other's presence and mannerisms. Blaine still attended the shelter, but had cut down on his hours, feeling uncomfortable leaving Kurt by himself for long stretches of time.

Not surprising to Blaine, since he had come to realize it was typical of cat hybrids, Kurt napped fairly regularly. Sometimes it was gradual, when the two were watching a movie, Kurt curled in Blaine's lap, and his eyes would slowly flutter shut, burrowing his warm face into Blaine's legs. Others, it was sudden – they would be talking, and almost comically, Kurt's eyes would widen adorably as if suddenly realizing how exhausted he was, his mouth stretching into a yawn, pink tongue slipping out to lick at his lips before his eyelids drooped drowsily and Blaine tucked him into bed.

Blaine often gave Kurt his own space as he napped throughout the day, not wanting to crowd him. He checked on him from time to time but took the opportunity to stop by the shelter and converse with fellow veterinarians or see his more regular patients. Returning home to Kurt, though, did inexplicable things to his heart; he was still getting used to the luxury of it all, of coming home to someone who was happy to see him, who benefitted from his care, who he could actually keep safe in his home and not be forced to send back into society. He worried, though, when he wasn't there, whether Kurt would wake from a nightmare, as he tended to during nights, only to see that Blaine wasn't there with him, whether he would wake up ill with no one to turn to, to rub his back and warm a washcloth to soothe the headaches and stomachaches that so often disturbed his sleep.

Today, though, Kurt was just sleeping soundly on the floor in front of Blaine's radiator. Blaine had offered the couch and bed to him, but Kurt had refused, already half-asleep, and Blaine had settled for bringing him a few blankets and cushions from the couch, even though Kurt had ignored them. He had a definite tendency to choose spots on the floor when left to himself. It worried Blaine, who could only guess that it stemmed from Kurt's previous life. Kurt actually had yet to tell him almost anything about what he had gone through; Blaine had a vague idea from what he had seen hybrids go through, but he didn't want to pry, so he steered around the topic unless Kurt happened to bring it up.

He softly stepped closer to a sleeping Kurt. He didn't miss the way Kurt began to squirm as he heard the footsteps, didn't miss the way Kurt's eyes jolted open, wide and anxious until they trailed up Blaine's legs and met his face.

Blaine fought to keep the concern from showing on his countenance, knowing how sensitive Kurt was to even slight changes in his expression. He knelt beside Kurt.

"Did you sleep well, kitten?"

Kurt's face darkened, but he just nodded, brushing his face up against Blaine's leg until Blaine soothed a hand across the warm fur on his head, finding the spot behind Kurt's ear that never failed to bring out a light purr.

Kurt's stomach clenched and knotted inexplicably, but he pushed the feeling away, just lying on his back. His gaze climbed up Blaine's body, his legs crossed indian-style, one hand in his pockets, the other cupping his chin as it rested in his hand, his shirt – unbuttoned a bit at the top, the stubble on his cheeks.

"It's so nice to come home to you. I miss you when I'm not here."

"I missed you, too," Kurt said shyly, quietly. He was so adorable, Blaine couldn't breathe for a moment.

"You slept for quite a while, then, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Soundly, I hope?"

Kurt hesitated. "For the most part."

Blaine paused, wondering whether it was an invitation to pry, then deciding against it. "I'm glad, Kurt. Really glad," he said carefully. "Your cuts are looking much better, from what I can see just now."

"Yeah, it's…. they're definitely healing a lot faster than they were before. It was hard to keep them clean before, you know."

Blaine didn't know, though, and he couldn't help the way his heart leapt up and pushed the words from his mouth. "I'm sorry it was hard for you before, kitten. I can't say that I know, though. What it was like, I mean." he said, his voice almost a mumble.

Kurt's eyes were wide and shocked for a moment before he turned away, burying his face into the couch cushion Blaine had placed by him earlier, and Blaine sagged a bit. Not controlling his impulses and asking Kurt before he was ready was the last thing he had wanted to do, but he had done it nonetheless, and he could have kicked himself, really, he could have.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he blurted almost instantaneously. "I shouldn't have… it's not my place to bring that up. I just – it's hard to control myself."

Kurt didn't turn around, but his thin frame trembled.

"I really am sorry, you know. Would you like me to go? I don't want to be here when you don't want me to be. You need time by yourself, to process everything."

A small shake of his head.

"Okay. I'll stay, honey. Just right here with you."

Blaine could see the tension in Kurt's frame, the way his elegant fingers were hooked around the edges of the cushion, clutching it anxiously, the way his feet were arched and twisted about one another, his tail not relaxed on the floor at his side but curled upward. He thrust his other hand in his pocket to hold back the temptation to reach out and rub his back.

"You don't need to talk to me about anything you don't want to, or aren't ready to. You don't have to talk to me at all. You don't owe me anything of the sort. I'll just sit right here, waiting. I just want you to be comfortable. Happy, too, but I'll settle for comfortable right now."

A few minutes passed. Blaine felt helpless. He just wanted to lie next to Kurt and pull him into his arms until they couldn't breathe, drowning in each other's scents, until Kurt's tears all spilled from him and none were left, until all that was left was them, Kurt and Blaine, happy and safe.

"I am sorry, you know."

Kurt's fingers unclenched, and he turned around slowly. "It's not that – I just, I don't understand why you're sorry. I should be sorry, Bl-" Something inside of him prevented him from saying Blaine's full name, and he just trailed off helplessly.

Blaine's eyes wrinkled at the corners. Not in the way he did when he was smiling, laughing – they just looked pained. Pained, but energized; never weary. "Baby, no. Whatever you've been through, that's your story, to share with someone you trust. You don't owe anything to anyone, especially not something as intimate and personal as that. It's totally okay to not want to tell me - I never want you to feel like you have to apologize for feeling uncomfortable."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," Kurt murmured. Blaine's brow furrowed in spite of himself, and Kurt couldn't bring himself to explain that Blaine was just so lovely, so gentlemanly and sweet and perfect, and Kurt just… Kurt didn't want to ruin him, didn't want to burden him with his story and worthlessness. He had ruined enough people's lives already. And Blaine – Blaine wouldn't be able to care for him anymore, not if he knew what Kurt had been through, so much that Kurt was hardly even a person anymore.

Who would want to hold and care for and love someone who was worthless? Kurt couldn't risk the last remnant of love he had left in his life, and sat silent, willing himself to not turn away from Blaine. He had taken Blaine's time, home, food, medicine – he could at least look him in the eyes – eyes were so caring that they pierced through him painfully.

Blaine sensed the need to change directions for a while. "That's alright, honey. Are you up to doing anything, or would you rather just rest?"

"Whatever you want."

Blaine bit his lip to repress an overly harsh-sounding 'it's not what I want, it's what you want.'

"I want whatever you're feeling up to doing."

"I'm… I'm sorry. You sound – you sound angry."

Blaine could have kicked himself at the way Kurt's small frame tensed, cowering back against the cushions and shivering. "No, Kurt, of course not. I just want to make you feel better, you know that."

Maybe somewhere distant in the back of his mind, Kurt knew that. He knew it logically, but it just didn't register emotionally. It wouldn't resonate anywhere within him, like for some reason it was hitting the wrong frequency.

"At least, I want you to know that."

Kurt's eyes looked pained.

"Shhh, kitten. We'll work on it, alright? We have all the time in the world for you to get better, one step at a time."

One step at a time… but what if Kurt couldn't handle it, what if he needed to backtrack a step or two, how would Blaine react when he realized what a disappointment Kurt really was? And, worst of all, what if he brought Blaine down with him? After all, no one had been able to handle Kurt for long.

Something was wrong with Kurt. He was sure of that. He just needed to work it out internally, before he had a chance to ruin Blaine, just like Kevin, just like all the others…

He felt a bit uncomfortable beneath Blaine's gaze and kind smile, despite the way warmth crept into his stomach, curling itself up his torso and settling into his heart.

"So," Blaine said conversationally, the little smile still on that achingly beautiful face, "What would you like to do?"

Kurt wasn't tired, and he felt horrible making Blaine sit around watching him sleep. "Whatever you'd like."

Kurt obviously had never had the opportunity to make many decisions on his own, Blaine realized, somewhat painfully. "Okay, baby. Well… hm. I have an idea, but it probably sounds a little silly."

As if anything perfect Blaine said could ever be silly. "Mpf. Try me?"

"Well, when I was little, I always wanted to make a blanket fort, but my parents were on the strict side, and now there's not really anyone who wants to build one with me. I guess I'm a bit old, but…"

Kurt leapt at the opportunity to do something to make Blaine happy for once, though in the back of his mind, he did wonder if Blaine had done that on purpose. Whatever the reason, he couldn't bring himself to care. Besides, Blaine always had seemed a bit spontaneous and shenanigan-y. "Of course," he said softly, taking Blaine's outstretched hand and pulling himself up.

"Kurt, it's so good to see you getting your strength back."

Kurt smiled, keeping his hand in Blaine's when Blaine didn't seem to want to let him go.

"Come on, let's go see what sheets I've got laying around."

.o0O0o.

"This is nice," Kurt said simply, lazing back against the pillows behind him and looking around at the comforters draped haphazardly across stacked tables, pillows piled about them in a circle of sorts, sheets over the window that shed a pretty purple light over the room.

"Isn't it?" Blaine mused rhetorically, pushing a sheet to the side and bending to enter, taking a seat opposite Kurt. He pointed to a quilt above their heads that was caving in a bit. "You see that one?"

"Yeah. It's beautiful."

"Mmm. Well, it's an Anderson family heirloom of sorts. I spilled cherry juice on it once when I was little. I swear, I never heard the end of that one." He chuckled good-naturedly. "I guess it all comes to pass, though, in the end."

"So I've heard."

Unwilling to let their comfort take the tone of awkward seriousness, Blaine went on. "God, Kurt, I'm so glad I had you here to reach the tops of those bookcases. They were always just the slightest bit too tall for me."

"Saved you quite a bit of standing on chairs, I would venture to guess?" There was a little light behind Kurt's eyes, and Blaine could have just given him a bear hug, right then and there.

Blaine looked Kurt up and down objectively. "You're tall for a cat hybrid, aren't you?"

"Yeah, a bit," Kurt hummed. "My mom used to tell me I'd reach the sun one day if I kept climbing the air that fast. I told her I wouldn't just reach it, I'd pass it up until I could look down on the world, see absolutely everything."

"Ah, an ambitious child, I see." Blaine teased. "Though I can't say I didn't have a bit of that in myself."

"Oh no?"

"Mm. I'd spend hours banging at the piano, trying on my mom's shiniest clothes, pretending I was Liberace. My father wasn't thrilled to say the least, but hey, eventually my banging turned into something resembling a tune, and I've done pretty well for myself performance-wise, so that's enough for me."

"I've always sung. Never learned how to play, though."

"Hmm, we'll have to remedy that at some point."

"We will?"

"'Course. It'd be a sin not to learn how to play the piano – I mean, look at those gorgeous, long fingers you have." He held his hand against Kurt's, casually comparing the lengths of their fingers. "See? Mine are all short and stubbly. There was a day when I felt I could kill to have fingers like yours."

"Yours are thicker, though. Stronger."

"Very true. I suppose it's all give-and-take."

"Ideally," Kurt chirped before suddenly realizing the weight the word held. Ideally. Everything worked ideally. "Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't some things just… work? The way they're supposed to?"

Blaine sensed the intention behind Kurt's question. "Well, Kurt, I mean... everything works in theory, I guess. I mean, hybrids are supposed to find a human and fall in love, or maybe fall in love with each other and find a human willing to care for them, and I mean… it's all supposed to fall into place. I think the problem is just… people are selfish, is what it comes down to. Everyone's out for what's best for their own self, and those who are in more vulnerable positions happen to be exploited."

Something shook deep in Kurt's core, and he was at once heaving, tremors beginning in his heart, coursing outwards to every inch of his body, almost until there was nothing left. "He beat me," he managed. "Every day. Every single day, he'd come down to the basement, where he kept me chained up, and he'd just… I could never do anything right for him." Kurt fought the urge to look into Blaine's eyes, knowing he would never finish if he did, and soldiered on. "I could handle it if it was just… if it was just him taking out his anger or resentment or anything, but no. He'd tell me to not fall asleep, make me stay awake until I didn't even know how long it had been, just sunrise after sunrise until I couldn't take it anymore. But I tried, Blaine. I tried. I tried harder than I had ever tried at anything, ever, in my entire life, tried to obey him, to make him happy with me. But I couldn't even do that right, follow his simple little instructions. And then he'd come down, once I fell asleep, and he'd have… I don't know, it varied, sometimes a stick, sometimes a whip. And he kept me in that collar, and I couldn't go anywhere, and I'd hide in a corner, but I knew it was coming, and I knew that I deserved it, and he told me how bad I'd been, made me say it to him, how I could never do anything right-" Kurt gasped for air, his phrases coming out in short, stuttering bits.

And then he felt a soft cotton tissue press to his face, its light blue color turning dark and wet – and Blaine's hands were so gentle despite the callouses, and his body looked so warm and solid, and those eyes, those painstakingly beautiful and heartaching eyes, tears glinting like specks of gold.

Kurt lurched forward, grasping for something, anything, just Blaine, and Blaine caught his trembling body against his chest. He held him tightly, stroking his ears, the fur atop his head, running his hands up and down Kurt's back desperately.

Kurt couldn't stop, not until everything was out. "There were others, but he was the worst, and he just wouldn't even feed me sometimes, not unless I earned it. I tried, I always, always, tried, but there's only so much time you can spend trying before it loses meaning."

The stories of the others came cascading from his blubbering lips – of Kevin, of Ben, of his parents, of the animals at the shelter. Blaine was silent, save for his hands rubbing Kurt's back with just the right weight, save for the gentle yet pained rise and fall of his chest beneath Kurt's body. And when it was all too much, when Kurt couldn't talk anymore and needed to pause, he clung to Blaine, fisting his hands in his shirt, and Blaine clutched Kurt to his chest like he could never let him go, whispering comfort and affection into Kurt's ear until he felt he couldn't breathe from the intense intimacy of it all.

"I'm so sorry, precious, you didn't deserve any of that, no one does."

"You don't understand, I – "

"Kurt, beautiful, no one has the right to tell you to do things like that, things that no one can do, and then punish you for them."

"No, it's – I'm not good at this, Blaine. I'm not good at being a hybrid. No one wants me, they just beat me. There's something wrong with me, I just… I just can't please anyone, not them, not me, not anyone."

"I know I can't teach you this right away, Kurt, because it's something – well, it's something you just have to feel, somewhere inside you, but you're perfect, so sweet and caring and trusting and affectionate and just wanting to make people happy, to feel whole. Your body, Kurt, is precious. It's a marvel of science and art and everything that's wonderful, and no one, no one has the right to lay a finger – no, a single cell on you, when you don't want them to. That's abuse, plain and simple." Blaine buried his face against Kurt's fur, trying to surround him with comfort and love, desperately wanting him to believe him, to let him block out everything that sought to harm him.

"How can it be abuse if I deserved it?" Kurt choked, his voice muffled against Blaine's neck.

"Kitten, there's nothing in the world you could have done to ever deserve that. Nothing is wrong with you – nothing could ever, ever be wrong with you, not the way I see you being so lovely, so endearing and trusting – Kurt, everything you do, it just lights up my heart. There's humans in this world who are horrible, horrible, people, going on power trips at the expense of others-"

"How can they be horrible, Blaine? I'm the one who-"

"Sweetheart, what they're doing says everything about them and nothing about you. You came across the wrong people, is all. There's good humans in this world, there really are. There's so many people who would love to have you and cherish you and love you."

Kurt didn't respond and cried into Blaine's chest until he could no longer force out any tears. Blaine's words of comfort fell about his body, scattering themselves around his limbs and rolling off of him, but some – some stuck with him, and that was enough, for then.

"Thank you," he murmured, feeling guilt eat at him for burdening Blaine with this, feeling that the least he could do was thank him. "I'm so lucky to have you."

"No, honey. I'm so lucky to have you, right here with me. I know this is hard for you to get through, it being so much at one time, but… you're not alone. We'll get through this together, step by step."

"Together?"

"Of course. I'll never leave you alone, Kurt. You're worth so much to me."

There was something about the simplicity of that phrase that calmed the wild, overwhelming sadness in Kurt's chest. Placated and weary, he allowed his eyes to drift shut. He didn't allow his spirit to float away into escape as he slept, as it normally did – rather, he felt it melt into Blaine. Something about that felt ever so right.

.oO0Oo.

When Kurt awoke, it was still dark. Moonlight streamed faintly through the sheets, but all was still. Blaine's chin was heavy against the top of Kurt's head, his arms warm and tight around his tired body. Kurt pulled away and examined him achingly. His cheeks were stubbly and just the slightest bit rough, yet somehow even more perfect in that state. His berry lips were parted just slightly, and moisture shone between them. As Kurt trailed his eyes further up his face, from the long, dark curls to the crust that collected at the corners of his eyes, he felt guilt seep into his body.

Blaine was so perfect, so pure, so lovely. So opposite from Kurt. And he'd said they'd figure this out together. Kurt had ripped Blaine from this perfect, beautiful, live and thrown him into the havoc that pulsed through his own. Kurt had broken Blaine's sweet, loving heart with the filthy tales of what had happened to him. Kurt had stolen his time, his house, his attention. Kurt had brought him down to his level, to the point where Blaine cried beside him as he regaled him with things that should have never left his past and his nightmares.

Kurt was ruining him.

It was with a sharp, throbbing pain in his heart that Kurt slipped out of Blaine's arms, planted a final kiss on his cheek, and made his way out the back door and into the black of night.