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Kurt’s usual cadential chatter had died down, leaving Blaine’s own voice to dominate their conversation. Not that he minded of course, he didn’t mind if Kurt never even uttered a single word, as long as he was steady by his side, gloved fingers intertwined and sitting heavy between his, everything was okay.
They were walking aimlessly, strolling through a park, dodging people every so often like a well practiced dance, clasped hands swinging lightly between them. It was when Kurt stopped replying completely that Blaine faltered. His eyes were far away, either looking through everything in his path or set on the ground.
Blaine tugged his hand slightly, giving it a squeeze - just a slight I’m here. “Okay?”
Kurt looked back at him, his eyes glassy and confused, lips thin. He stared at Blaine for a moment, as if trying to catch up to what he just said. After a beat he gave a nod, swallowed, then returned his eyes to the path as they walked.
So that’s a no.
He knew it was pointless to push it. Kurt wasn’t okay, but he didn’t think trying to force it out of him in the middle of a park would aid either of them, so he kept quiet, his concerned gaze flickering to the side every so often.
A moment later he felt Kurt’s hand pulling away from his, angling his arm back slightly as it slipped away. He watched Kurt take his coat off, a slight flush on his cheeks.
“Kurt- it’s December, you’re going to get sick,” a gentle plead behind his voice as he tried to wrap Kurt’s scarf just a bit more secure around his neck, as best he could whilst walking.
Kurt just shook his head, slightly frantic, as he folded the coat over his arms, resting them against himself.
Blaine relocated his - now empty - hand, stuffing it into his pocket and pulling his coat tightly, bracing against the chill in the air.
He felt slightly frenzied, had he done something wrong? Maybe Kurt was upset at something that he’d completely missed - again. God he kept trying to be more attentive, to dial down the mistakes he made, he thought he had made progress-
He jerked to a stop, something gripping the back of his jacket tight.
“Kurt-?” he turned.
Kurt was standing there - if you could call his trembling form standing - mouth parted, breathing hard. Breathing too hard for something not to be wrong- “Kurt, hey, what’s up?” he tried to turn but Kurt’s fingers were still twisted in his coat, crumpling it tight in his fist.
He put his handle softly over Kurt’s trying to loosen it, turning to him fully.
“Kurt can- can you talk to me, what’s going on?” Kurt shook his head with vigour as he grabbed onto Blaine’s arms, breath shuddering out of him, eyes never leaving the empty space infront of him, his coat falling and crumpling on the floor and god- something must be wrong if he let his new jacket fall like that.
“Hey- woah-“ He caught under Kurt’s arms as his legs gave way slightly and- he was trembling, shaking as Blaine tried to hold him close and upright.
“Need to sit,” Kurt panted out, his voice wilted, swallowing around an invisible lump in his throat.
He could feel the panicky rise and fall of Kurt’s chest against his own, moving too quickly. His body was too warm, too hot.
“Okay, okay we can do that,” He tried not to let the panic seep into his voice as he looked around frantically. Benches were too far to take someone who couldn’t walk - a tree would just have to do.
“Easy, just a few steps back,” he guided him softly, leaning him against the tree as he quickly took off his own coat to place on the floor, still damp from the day’s earlier snow.
He fell rather than sank onto it, drawing his knees close, head tucked down and arms wrapped around himself as his body shuddered.
Blaine stood infront of him, dumb with fear, cold biting at his exposed arms.
He had no clue what was happening, he’d never seen Kurt like this before, never seen anyone like this before.
The realisation hit him all at once, alarm coursing too hot under his skin. Panic attack. He’d never seen anyone- never seen Kurt, strong, brave, beautiful Kurt-
But what else could it be.
Hot panic prickled down his spine at just how helpless he felt and god this really wasn’t the time to be useless. Kurt was always the one who knew what to do in these situations, Kurt took charge, Kurt dealt with the problems and Blaine- Blaine just felt like a child, small and pathetic and confused.
He shook his head, how was thinking about himself going to help his boyfriend, his poor boyfriend shaking and trembling and juddering on the floor, alone- he dropped to his knees next to him, ignoring the feel of the hard surface through the coat, unforgiving on his knees, reaching out, hesitant to touch.
He could hear Kurt’s breath now, ragged and short, could feel him choking it out, trying and failing to suck enough air back in on the intake.
“Can I hold you?” his voice cracked desperately, feeling so stupid at still needing Kurt’s helping hand when he was the one in trouble.
Kurt’s head bobbed in what seemed like a shaky nod, it was all the go ahead Blaine needed, shifting himself back against the tree, knees bent awkwardly under himself as he reached over him, one hand on Kurt’s upper arm and the other on the back of his burning neck, sweat starting to build, pulling him in close.
Kurt curled against him, eyes squeezed tight, a hand gripping his thigh, the other bunching Blaine’s sweater vest in his hand.
It didn’t stop quickly, if anything it got worse before it got better, Blaine’s own eyes prickling with guilt at not being able to help, not being able to make this better because isn’t that what boyfriends are meant to do.
He held him for as long as he had to, not caring about the way his legs cramped from how he sat, trying to whisper encouraging words into his hair, ghosting kisses in an attempt to ground him.
He did come down eventually, shaking slowing to a light tremble, limbs still achingly tense, rough breathing evening out, awareness creeping back in. His grip on Blaine loosened, not digging in anymore but still staying firm, something to anchor himself to.
Blaine moved his hand up to Kurt’s face, the pad of his thumb running along his cheek. “Hey,” he whispered.
Kurt’s face was.. well it was blank, puffy eyes and tear tracks being the only indication that anything had happened. “Can we go home,” his voice was tight, tired, his eyes not meeting Blaine’s.
“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out, just relieved the worst of it was over, the excrutiatingly physical part of- of whatever that was.
Blaine picked up Kurt’s discared coat, completely forgotten in the panic, letting it drape over Kurt’s shoulders, trying to bundle him in it without actually putting it on him, his arms tucked tight around himself protectively inside it.
Blaine put his own coat on without complaint of the damp. He knew Kurt was tired, the exhaustion in his features saying more than he currently could, still uneasy on his feet. Kurt needed him to be the strong one right now - to the best of his capabilities at least.
The walk back to their apartment was quiet. Blaine didn’t try to pry, he knew that whatever had happened - panic attack? - had drained him, now wasn’t the time for questions, now was the time for silence.
Blaine stayed close by the entire time, hovering, always touching Kurt somehow, a palm on his back, a guiding hand on his elbow, just a gentle reminder of I’m here, I promise, I wish I could do more.
The air in their apartment felt awkward. Kurt just standing and looking and not looking and then sitting, uncomfortably, and staring, and Blaine not knowing what to do because.. what do you do when someone’s brain attacks their own body like that?
He knew Kurt wouldn’t be the one to make the first move, when it came to these things Kurt would rather close up and drown himself, usually sinking quietly until Blaine pulled him out of it.
How did he survive before he had Blaine to pull him out of it.
So Blaine sat gently, his thigh to Kurt’s, and slipped their hands together - and Kurt sat beside him, stiff, dregs of tension still holding his muscles taut.
Blaine turned the TV on, more for background noise than to actually watch, putting on an old show - one they’d already seen far too many times for it to not be considered an obsession - and waiting.
It took two episodes for him to begin to relax, body and brain catching up to the realisation that he was in fact safe, three for him to lean his head on Blaine’s shoulder, and four for the built up aching embarrassment in his throat to finally reduce him to tears.
He cried and Blaine let him, let him wrap his arms too tight around Blaine’s middle because Blaine was the only thing he could count on, the only thing he had ever been certain of, the only thing - in the smallest ways - that ever kept him steady, even if Blaine didn’t realise it himself.
“We can talk about it, if you feel up for it,” he whispered into his hair, thumb stroking his back through the coat he hadn’t taken off, just a small and gentle reminder, I’m here, I promise, I wish I could do more. It was never a push with Blaine, always a suggestion, never forceful, always just what he needed.
Kurt didn’t respond immediately. It had already been an emotionally taxing evening without the prospect of having to unpack his mental health.
So they sat.
Kurt rested himself against Blaine, cheek smushed into his chest and arms meeting around his middle. Blaine’s hand made its way to carding through Kurt’s hair, feeling it soft against his fingers. Kurt closed his eyes, welcoming the touch, sitting quietly with it and letting it calm him.
The quiet was nice, almost enough to sink into and just forget.
Almost.
“I haven’t- hadn’t, had one for ages,” he murmured eventually, breaking the silence.
“How long,” Blaine asked softly, keeping up the rhythm of his fingers, letting Kurt pick through his thoughts.
“A year, I think,” he unfocused his eyes, his fingers picking at Blaine’s jacket absent-mindedly.
“You never mentioned it before,” came Blaine’s reply, not an accusation, just an observation, a simple statement of fact.
Kurt felt a tightness winding in his throat, “It’s embarrassing,” his throat hurt with the admission.
“Kurt,” his voice was so soft with distress.
His fingers tightened slightly on Blaine’s coat, “Being completely helpless like that, crying like a baby, and in public no less,” he swallowed, “it’s humiliating,”. He’d never been able to put into words just how utterly stupid it made him feel.
“Don’t- You can’t beat yourself up for something you can’t control,” he moved Kurt up by the shoulders, looking into his eyes. He felt so desperate with the need to make everything okay, to just fix it. “I wish I could’ve been there for all of them,”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything. They’d still happen, I’d still look pathetic,” he murmured, now talking to the sleeve of Blaine’s jacket.
“There is nothing pathetic about it.” He put his hand to Kurt’s face, guiding it up gently, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone. “You’re so strong.”
And I know I can’t stop them happening, and I hate it, but from now on I can be there for you when it does.”
He leaned forward, capturing Kurt’s lips with his, trying to put into it all the emotion he didn’t know how to say, I’m so angry you have to go through this, trying to solidify his intentions with the solid press of his lips, I wish it was me instead. Trying.
Pulling away, resting his forehead against Kurt’s, breathing so close against him, “I’m so proud of you,” grabbing for his hands, just needing to hold them, “please know that,”
And for a moment, nothing.
And then Kurt hugged him.
Launched himself might be a more appropriate way of putting it, eliciting an oof from Blaine, face stuffed into his neck, arms tight wound around his back, as if he might slip away if he were hugged with anything less than everything.
Kurt’s voice came muffled from Blaine’s neck, “Can we get food now,”
A grin broke out across his face, letting a out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and settling his hands on Kurt’s sides, “Okay,”
“And cheesecake,”
The laugh choked out of him, hanging his head and shaking it slightly, squeezing his hands on Kurt’s sides just once “Okay,”