A/N: soooo uh hi guys. i'm sincerely so sorry this update took me all of eternity, but here it is!

just a quick thanks to all the people who stuck with this fic til the end, and every single alert and review is SO greatly appreciated, you all are wonderful, thank you!

and now, without further ado, enjoy.

It's with small, shuffling steps that Kurt and Blaine make their way up to the Hudmel house, each movement slow and heavy with sleep deprivation. After the clock had bypassed 1am and Blaine had nearly nodded off into his lukewarm coffee, Cooper had shooed them out with a yawn of his own, telling them he wasn't going anywhere and that he'd rather not have Blaine drop dead to top everything else off. Blaine had refused at first, insisting that he could sleep in the sticky chair by Cooper's bedside but Cooper had threatened to call security and it was on Blaine's huge, protesting yawn that Kurt had squeezed Cooper's hand and bustled Blaine out of the room while Blaine was still stammering through the fissure his yawn had left in his skull.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had yet to make an appearance, which baffles Kurt and makes him wonder if there's even more to the Anderson family dynamic that he doesn't know about. In stilted, sleepy sentences on the dark ride back home, Blaine had told Kurt about Cooper's estrangement from the family when he boarded that plane so many years ago; how, except for Kurt email and a brief phone call to ensure that Cooper's trust fund had been cut off, the elder Andersons acted much as if they'd never had another son. Kurt is shocked, trying to imagine being cut off from Burt for leaving to New York – lying injured in a hospital bed without harboring any hope for seeing his father. Kurt can't picture it. Aside from Blaine, Burt is the only certainty in Kurt's life. He just can't imagine anything but Burt caring for Kurt for the rest of his life.

Kurt pushes into the house, calling out a soft, "Dad?"

"In here, kiddo," Burt replies softly, and Kurt guides Blaine into the living room, where Burt stares blankly at the muted television, pillowing a lightly snoring Finn's head on his lap.

"How's your brother?" Burt asks without further greeting, twisting to face them, eyes drooping but still concerned.

Blaine smiles tiredly at Burt and Kurt shifts closer to his boyfriend, resting a steady hand on the small of Blaine's back. Blaine's smile hides what Kurt's already seen – exhaustion and worry, and Kurt just wants to get Blaine up to his room so he can hold him safe in his arms.

"He's good," Blaine says, voice dragging with exhaustion but somehow still managing a sliver of cheer. "He's been awake. The doctors say he'll be fine."

"Good." Burt says gruffly, passing a hand over his haggard face and letting out a heavy sigh.

"How's Finn?" Kurt queries, nodding at the gangling boy draped over and off the couch. Burt lets out a small snort and gently ruffles Finn's hair.

"Managing well enough for the moment. Once he heard Quinn was gonna make it he was out like a light."

Kurt nods, sliding his arm around Blaine's waist as Blaine wobbles slightly against Kurt's shoulder.

"Dad, Blaine's going to stay here tonight, okay? It's really late and there's no way either one of us will make it to his house."

Burt waves his hand at them, nodding. "Door open, please."

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly at his father. "Don't worry, Dad. Goodnight."

"Night, boys." Burt yawns widely and rests his hand on the top of Finn's head, muttering something about a sore back in the morning as Kurt and Blaine stumble up the stairs towards Kurt's bedroom.

"Thank god," Blaine groans, going to flop face-first onto Kurt's bed, but Kurt captures the back of his shirt, tugging him gently back.

"That shirt's seen enough distress today, don't you think?" Kurt teases softly, twirling Blaine under his hands and dropping his fingers to the buttons of Blaine's shirt. A ghost of a smile tugs at Blaine's lips and Kurt smiles back, easing the shirt off Blaine's shoulders.

They undress each-other slowly, clumsily; they aren't aiming for intimacy, just comfort and love and the sleep that awaits them under Kurt's crisp sheets. Kurt flips off the light and lies back with a sigh, opening his arms for Blaine. Blaine hums a little and drags himself up to curl against Kurt's bare chest, breath ghosting over Kurt's neck, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. They lie there in the dark, skin on skin, Blaine's body a warm comfort to the things still spiraling around in Kurt's head. He feels like this day has been stretched into a week, or maybe even two – was it really only this morning that they had won Regionals? Just eight since Rachel had shoved a pink bouquet into his hands and rattled off some speech about how she hadn't been able to find him a matching dress at such short notice and he had contemplated how long it would take her to asphyxiate on the flowers in her throat? Kurt wonders at time; so easily manipulated and varied to each individual.

And then there's Blaine, and Kurt thinks this day must feel like a year to his boyfriend. He scrunches his fingers in Blaine's messy, rumpled hair, and startles a little when Blaine speaks.

"I wonder if I sleep long enough, I'll wake up tomorrow and none of this ever happened," he murmurs, hand sliding up Kurt's side, fingers slotting between Kurt's ribs as he goes. Kurt hears his throat contract in a nervous swallow and he drops a light kiss to the top of Blaine's head.

"It'll be okay," he whispers gently, hugging Blaine more securely to him. "You're going to wake up tomorrow and you'll see that everything is going to be alright – even if it doesn't feel like it right now." Kurt's saying that to himself as much as he is to Blaine; he's still scared, still jolted and unsettled, but he's got Blaine's weight solid and comforting against his chest, and he knows that together they can overcome anything.

Blaine sighs and scoots closer, tucking his head under Kurt's chin. "I love you so much."

Kurt smiles into the dark. "I love you, too."

They're silent for a moment, listening to the soothing in and out of their breathing before Kurt speaks up, eyelids drifting down and words dragging on his tongue. "Ready to sleep?"

Blaine huffs out a short, sweet laugh against Kurt's collarbone, stretching up to plant a messy kiss on the corner of Kurt's mouth before plunking his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "Ready to sleep."