#dannahwrites

Hey, guys! Long time no see! There was no prompt for this, I just watched Prom Queen earlier, and I just saw this in my head (along with another scene I’m hoping to post later in the week!) So, enjoy?..

TW: mentions of Sadie Hawkins, mentions of bullying

"Sorry, girls, if you'll excuse us, I have a private fashion question for Hummel." Santana smiled, reaching for Kurt's hand and dragging him over to a quieter area of the changing room.

Kurt grinned around at the others as he headed across, heart still beating wildly at the thought of taking Blaine to prom. Santana turned to face him and looked across to the others to make sure nobody was listening in.

"Have you really asked Blaine to the prom?"

Yes, I’m still here. Writing has been slow lately, but then I got this prompt yesterday and couldn’t get this out of my head. So thanks to the anon who prompted and managed to finally get me inspired to put ink to paper. Hopefully it’ll set off a chain of inspiration on some of my other half-finished works.

And, yes, it is Seblaine. I know some of you don’t like that, but it was a request, and Seblaine isn’t really a TW...

TW: injuries, hospital (setting),

"Did you finish that assignment for Charms?" Sam asked, falling into step with his friend.

"Uh, yeah. Tina and I worked on it down in the library last night."

"Oh. Can I borrow it?"

"Sure, yeah. It's up in the dorm at the minute."

"Cool. I'll grab it after the game." He took the opportunity to eye Blaine up as they ambled across the grounds towards the stadium. His quidditch slacks were neat enough, goggles perched precariously upon his loose curls. "You seem to distracted. Everything OK?"

"Just thinking about the game."

"The game?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Or a certain player?"

Please find the original prompt at the end of the post.

TW: asthma, hospital (setting)

Tony really didn't think sometimes, and that was something he was going to have to improve on now he had a kid running about the place. Well, that being said, Blaine had been on his feet for four years now, and Tony still hadn't got any better at thinking. Yes, that was really something he should get on to.

The particular morning that raised this idea, he was in the basement working on a new chest of drawers for Blaine's bedroom. The younger boy's room was being redecorated for his birthday, and Tony could find no furniture that adequately fitted the theme. He'd finished drilling the basic frame together, and was just about to get started on sanding down some drawers when Pepper came running into the room, Blaine in arms.

"A couple of the managers have dropped by about our latest merger, Tony. I can't keep them waiting." Oh, right, Pepper had been down a little earlier to come and ask him to watch Blaine.

"Go ahead." He waved a hand aimlessly at the door. "Dummy and I can watch Blaine."

Pepper looked dubious for a moment, but placed the squirming boy on the ground and headed back upstairs.

"Hey, daddy." Tony jumped as Blaine suddenly appeared at his elbow, curly head not even the height of the workdesk. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just sanding a bit of plywood for a surprise. You like surprises, don't you?"

"I love surprises!" Blaine bounced up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly. "Is it a surprise for me?"

"You'll have to find out."

"OK." A pause. "Can you play-" Something caught his sight out of the corner of his eye, and his head snapped to the left. "Oooh. What's that?"

"Just don't touch anything hot, sharp or dangerous." There was a vague mmhmm as the younger boy dashed off to investigate whatever it was he'd noticed further along the bench. Tony lowered his safety goggles and turned the sander on.

Not even a minute later, Tony was impressed with the wood panel, and turned to fetch another from the pile. With the sander off, he noticed the real quiet in the room. There was no joyful squeals, telltale banging or even little voices as Blaine entertained himself (and Tony was used to all three when the boy was in the workroom with him). That only meant trouble - either Blaine had done something he shouldn't, or something had happened to Blaine.

"Blaine?" He looked to where he'd last seen the boy head off, to his left, and dropped the panel instantly. The young boy was sitting on the floor, clawing on the collar of his shirt and choking noiselessly as he struggled to draw in a breath. His lips were already turning blue and there was a look in his eyes that Tony could only describe as sheer panic.

"JARVIS!" Tony called, dropping to his knees beside the younger boy, hands scrabbling for anything anything he could do to help the younger boy. He unbuttoned the top button of Blaine's shirt, rubbing his other hand soothingly along the younger boy's back. "Get Pepper down here with his inhaler! And get Happy to bring the car around - we need to get Blaine to the hospital."

He turned to Blaine, voice dropping. "It's going to OK, B. Pep's going to bring the medicine and it'll be better, OK?" Blaine nodded as he struggled to take another wheezy breath. He could see the younger boy trying to protest, even as he gasped for air.

Trust Tony not to think. Blaine had been diagnosed with asthma two years back, yet Tony hadn't even hesitated in turning on the sander, churning up sawdust and other particulates into the air. How long had he been working that Blaine had been struggling for breath? He was turning blue for goodness sake!

"Tony?" He heard the door swing open and Pepper's footsteps charging into the room.

"Behind the desk!" He called, and then softer to Blaine. "See, Pep's here now. She's going to make everything OK."

The footsteps came clattering around the desk, and Pepper dropped to her knees beside the duo. She held the inhaler to Blaine's lips.

"Big breath for me now." She smiled as she administered the medicine. "Good boy." The trio sat in near silence, the only sound Blaine's struggling breaths, as Pepper helped administer another three pumps. Then Tony stood, lifting the small boy into his arms and climbing the stairs to meet Happy. Pepper followed close behind, offering the inhaler when needed on the journey.

*

At the hospital, Blaine was whisked away into a room with Tony hot on his heels, whilst Pepper and Happy waited anxiously outside. It was a good half an hour before Tony emerged from the room, face more serene but still pale.

Pepper was up on her feet in an instant. "How's Blaine?"

"He's good. Sleeping right now, but they managed to stabilize his breathing and get rid of the-" he shook his fingers in disdain "blue. They want to keep him here for a couple of hours just to check it doesn't start up again."

"You should go sit with him. He won't want to be alone when he wakes up."

Tony nodded, but made no real movement. "I just-"

Pepper placed a hand on his upper arm. "The Tony Stark I know never admits when he does something wrong." She tried a smile. "Every parent makes mistakes, Tony. Just be there for him when he wakes up."

Tony tried a smile in response, but was cut off when a nurse appeared from Blaine's room.

"He's looking for you."

"Go." Pepper urged.

Tony took one look at Happy, also nodding for him to rejoin Blaine, and turned, striding back to the room. He took a deep breath at the doorway and stepped inside.

"Daddy." He beamed, his voice still soft.

"Hey, Blaine. How is my brave little boy?"

"I-" He looked down at the sheets, fiddling them between his fingers. Tony reached across and took his hand in his.

"What is it, kid?"

"I don't have to eat lots of soup for a week now, do I?" His face was one of utter seriousness, brow crinkled and eyes concerned. "Only this boy at kindergarten, Wesley, his mum made him eat lots and lots of soup when he came home from the hospital, and I don't like soup. 'Specially Pepper's chicken soup." He made a face.

Tony laughed. "I'll tell you a secret - I don't like her chicken soup, either." Blaine grinned. "How about we get you out of here and go for ice cream? How does that sound?"

Prompt: That one time Tony Stark didnt think about Blaine and things went wrong... On an Andertark high right now. Thanks

Agh! So this has been in my drafts for eternity. Sorry I should have posted.

Week 48: 26/11/2014 - 02/12/2014

Nights Are Long Alone (Part A)

Week 49: 03/12/2014 - 09/12/2014

Nights Are Long Alone (Part B)

Week 50: 10/12/2014 - 16/12/2014

Nights Are Long Alone (Part C)

Week 51: 17/12/2014 - 23/12/2014

Danced With Monsters Through The Night

Week 52: 24/12/2014 - 30/12/2014

Before It Gets Better

Favourite Fic of the Month: Nights Are Long Alone (Part B)

If you want to prompt me, feel free - I'm always open to them. I have a ton to get through, but progress is being made.

I’m back, and working on all of these prompts that I have (though more are welcome). Most are half done or at least planned, so we’ll see how this goes. I don’t know if anyone still reads Blangst or Glee fanfic, but I feel bad not fulfilling prompts people once gave me.

This is a prompt from anon, which can be found at the end of the post.

TW: PTSD, panic attacks, mentions of Sadie Hawkins (brief)

"It's OK. I'll have Happy take your car around to the garage, shall I?" Tony called over his shoulder. He was in the kitchen of their Westerville manor, making himself a drink whilst he thought over the mechanics in his latest boots. "When did you get so lazy, Blaine Anderstark? I must be rubbing off on you."

"Erm, Tony-" Kurt began.

"So long as you've called your Dad, it's OK with me if you guys-" He cut off as a loud beep was heard, and JARVIS' report flashed up on the screen of his tablet. He rapidly turned on his heel, abandoning the drink and hurrying down the staircase from the elevated kitchen area.

"The sofa. Put him on the sofa." Tony muttered, wiping the clutter off the coffee table in front so he could sit in front of the boys. "JARVIS, get Banner up here with Blaine's meds." He turned to the boy in question, voice calming as he asked. "Blaine?"

Please find the original prompt (BPoTD #997) at the end of the post, or via the link. This is just another short drabble as I try to bust through this writer's block...

TW: blood, Finn (mention), stress, exams

They’d spent weeks revising for the test. Blaine had a mid-term in French, and it was the only subject where he wasn’t getting an A. Kurt was in AP French so had willing volunteered to help his boyfriend out with the language, and their consequent evenings spent together had been conducted entirely in French. Blaine was getting a lot better and was more than ready for the test.

Still, Kurt thought it would be nice to meet him outside the classroom and buy him lunch to celebrate afterwards. In fact, he still thinks it would have, but they didn’t get around to it. He turned up to the classroom, watching for the thick gelled skull to pass by, or the hazel eyes to flash up to his own. It didn’t happen. Nick offered him a small smile as he left, and a couple of the other boys looked his way, but his boyfriend didn’t appear.

He glanced inside the classroom. It was empty. Where was Blaine?

“Excusez-moi, Monsieur Retillion?” He inquired, knocking politely.

“Ah, Mr Hummel. Can I help you?”

“Have you seen Blaine?”

Monsieur Retillion glanced across to Blaine’s usual seat, frown wrinkling at the boy’s stuff which was still on the desk. “No. He left a few minutes ago. I assumed he’d be back to collect his belongings.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“He muttered something about the nurse’s office.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. Do you mind if I take his things?”

“Of course not.” Monsieur Retillion extended an arm in invitation, and Kurt nodded his appreciation. He began collecting Blaine’s things into his bag. Where had his boyfriend got to? Had he left early, or was he too busy freaking out? Kurt was a little unsettled. “Did Mr Anderson leave his paper?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” Kurt looked up, having forgotten that there was someone else in the room. “It’s here.” He lifted it up to hand across to the teacher. There was a spot on the top of the page that looked remarkably like blood. He frowned. “Thanks for your help, Monsieur.” Kurt offered him a small smile as he left the room.

*

He glanced left and right, but the corridor was empty – everyone was at lunch. He took a wild guess and turned right, heading for the nearest bathroom. It wasn’t the nicest on the floor, but that only meant it would be quieter. He swung open the door, finding what he was looking for. To an extent. His boyfriend was stood there, leant over the sink. Blood, however, was streaming from his nose, no matter how hard he was trying to stop it.

“Blaine?” He didn’t know why it was a question – it was clearly him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Blaine’s hazel eyes flickered across, before he returned to concentrating on what he was doing. Kurt immediately took over, hurrying to his boyfriend’s side and helping to pinch the bridge of his nose – Blaine’s hands were shaking so much there was no way he could effectively do it himself.

“It’s alright. Are you OK?”

“I messed up the test, Kurt. I failed it.”

“It didn’t look like that to me. You’d answered most of the questions.”

“I got to the end and I panicked. It was all about the futur proche and I am awful at that!”

“You’re getting loads better!”

“I freaked out and look where that got me.” He gestured to the sink which was tinged red with blood.

“It’s alright. I think its stopping.”

“But I wasted the last five minutes of the test – I didn’t even answer the question.”

“Monsieur Retillion will let you answer the last question I’m sure. And if not I’m sure you’ve done well enough to get an A anyway.”

“I don’t know.”

“I believe in you. You’ll have done terrifically.” He paused. “Look, it’s stopped. See? Everything’s going to be OK.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Blaine leaned back onto his boyfriend’s chest.

“You’d be terrific. You’ll always be terrific. Now let me clean this mess up, and then I’ll buy you lunch.”

“I should probably change first.” Blaine glanced down at his shirt which was spattered with blood.

“It’s barely noticeable, and I know a great way for getting it out later. No-one will care for the last two classes. You can change before Warbler practice – I’ll tell Wesley. It’s better to get some sustenance in you and raise that blood sugar than to worry about what you’re wearing.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Kurt Hummel?” He asked with a grin.

“Hush, you.” He teased in response.

“Thank you, Kurt.” He replied, his face suddenly serious.

“It’s OK – it’s what boyfriends are for.”

“I thought they were for teaching French.” He teased.

“So that’s why you’re dating me!”

“Of course not. You’re just irresistible.”

Kurt’s stomach soared at the words, but he kept his face serious. “What do you say about coming back to mine this weekend?”

“OK… I thought you were going shopping with the glee girls on Saturday?”

“I am. I just thought Carole could sort out something for you.”

“I can entertain myself here. I’m a big boy. There’s always Wes or Nick to wind up.”

“I meant for the nosebleeds.”

“Oh.”

“Stress nosebleeds are pretty common. Finn gets them all the time, and there’s some techniques Carole has for dealing with them. I thought I could ditch the shopping and we ask Carole for some help.”

“I can’t ask you to ditch Mercedes!”

“You’re not asking.”

“We could do it on Sunday instead.”

“What about our date?”

“The Lima Bean’s no Cartoni’s, I grant you, but it’s always had a special place in my heart.”

“Glad to hear it.” Kurt pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Sunday it is.”

Best wishes, Dannah :)

This is for an original prompt from anon that can be found at the end of the post. I’m not really feeling in a writing mood today, but I know if I didn’t write this now I’d lose what inspiration I did have. So it’s here, and if it’s shocking, I apologise.

TW: drunkeness, violence, abuse, injuries, blood, Blainofsky elements

He let Kurt go. He wasn’t cruel – much as he wanted right there and then to blurt out his feelings, he was a Dalton alumni. It wasn’t proper to throw Kurt’s world out of kilt like that, particularly not with Walter there. Kurt deserved an enjoyable moment every now and then, and Walter hadn’t done anything cruel to Blaine – if Kurt was dating him, he was probably a nice guy.

Tomorrow.

He’d talk to Kurt tomorrow.

For now, he just needed to find somewhere to stay. There was always Dalton? It was a two hour drive away, but the Dean would certainly let him borrow one of the spare rooms. Unless there wasn’t a spare room? And what kind of professional brought their personal issues to work? No, Dalton wouldn’t do. In the past he’d always relied on that, or the Hummels. Which was certainly not an option. Was it? He shook the thought away. Of course it wasn’t!

That left Dave’s. In his own way, Dave had supported this. He’d told him to go after Kurt, hadn’t he? So he wouldn’t be mad if he came crawling back, right? It was just for one night after all, and he certainly couldn’t go ruining Kurt’s date. Yeah, Dave’s was a good idea.

*

Dave’s was not a good idea.

This is for an original prompt from anon that can be found at the end of the post. I'm not really feeling in a writing mood today, but I know if I didn't write this now I'd lose what inspiration I did have. So it's here, and if it's shocking, I apologise.

TW: drunkeness, violence, abuse, injuries, blood, Blainofsky elements

He let Kurt go. He wasn’t cruel – much as he wanted right there and then to blurt out his feelings, he was a Dalton alumni. It wasn’t proper to throw Kurt’s world out of kilt like that, particularly not with Walter there. Kurt deserved an enjoyable moment every now and then, and Walter hadn’t done anything cruel to Blaine – if Kurt was dating him, he was probably a nice guy.

Tomorrow.

He’d talk to Kurt tomorrow.

For now, he just needed to find somewhere to stay. There was always Dalton? It was a two hour drive away, but the Dean would certainly let him borrow one of the spare rooms. Unless there wasn’t a spare room? And what kind of professional brought their personal issues to work? No, Dalton wouldn’t do. In the past he’d always relied on that, or the Hummels. Which was certainly not an option. Was it? He shook the thought away. Of course it wasn’t!

That left Dave’s. In his own way, Dave had supported this. He’d told him to go after Kurt, hadn’t he? So he wouldn’t be mad if he came crawling back, right? It was just for one night after all, and he certainly couldn’t go ruining Kurt’s date. Yeah, Dave’s was a good idea.

*

Dave’s was not a good idea. He was a little, less himself, than he had been when he’d left. He’d knocked, but when nobody answered he took out his own key and let himself in. The apartment stank of alcohol, but he didn’t let that deter him.

“Dave?” He called out hesitantly. There was no reply. “Dave?” Maybe he’d had some friends over and they’d all gone out.

There was a clattering in the living area, so he took a few more steps until he could see clearly. Dave was standing (or more accurately swaying) in the middle of the room, his eyes red-rimmed and a bottle in his hand.

“Oh, it’s you.” It was slurred, and the way it was spat, Blaine felt on edge. He’d seen Dave drunk before, of course he had. They were regular customers at Scandals and he’d been the designated driver many a time, but there was something different. Dave had never been this drunk, and in all honesty it reminded him of the first time they’d met. In the grounds of McKinley when it had only been Kurt that had kept him from running.

“I was just- um –“ He stumbled over the words. Did he want to stay here with Dave in this state? Even more, was it safe to stay here?

“What? You what?”

“I-“ He rose the keys in his hands as if to make an excuse without having to come up with something.

“We went halves on the apartment, if you remember.”

“So it’s OK for me to stay the night, then?”

“It’s half mine.”

“Yeah, I-I know.”

“Good.”

“Cool.” He turned to head towards the spare room – might as well let Dave have his own space. The bottle smashed onto the kitchen counter, not even a foot from where he was standing, littering the floor with its unfinished contents and shards of glass.

“Dave, what-?”

Another one landed even closer than the first, this one thankfully empty, and then another one hit its target. He was shocked to say the least. Too shocked to notice the fast approaching figure until it was too late. He soon found himself flat up against the kitchen wall, Dave’s face in his.

“It was always him wasn’t it?” He struggled not to retch at the stench of breath invading his personal space. “There was never any us. There was never going to be any us, and you let me think there was. You knew it, you always knew it, and you thought you could play your way through all of this.” The hands dropped from his shirt collar, and quick as a flash he ducked under Dave’s arms and sprinted for the door.

Only when he was outside did he stop for breath, wiping the glass from his hair. His hands came back a little bloody, and with the adrenaline fading quickly, he began to feel a little dizzy as well. He needed to get somewhere safe (in case Dave decided to leave the apartment) and he needed to do it quickly (or he’d end up passing out in the street.)

*

He rang the doorbell, praying Kurt was still at Breadstix, and fighting as hard as he could against the dark tendrils at the edge of his vision. Burt answered.

“Blaine?” He took in the boy’s state. “Jeez, kid, let’s get you inside.”

“Burt?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Is Kurt home?”

“No, not yet. He was going to Breadstix with Rachel. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly. I can-“

He shook his head, stumbling as the dizziness worsened and sighing an internal breathe of relief. “No. He can’t know.”

“I don’t know yet. What happened? Did you get in a car wreck? I can deal with the police or-“ Burt cut off as Blaine shook his head again.

“It’s not important.”

“Not important? Kid, look at the state of you!”

“Shouldn’t be here.” His eyelids felt like lead and his speech was becoming less and less coherent.

“It’s not an issue, son. Carole’s due home from work any minute and Kurt’ll be back shortly. Hell, even if it’s just me in the house you’re welcome anytime.”

“M’tired.”

“You look dead on your feet, kid, but you’ve got to stay with me at least until Carole gets home. You can tell me what happened.”

“Fight.”

“A fight? Like at Dalton? Or as in beating?”

“I-I- I couldn’t tell Kurt and Dave was drunk.”

“Dave did this?!” He didn’t bother to answer. “How long’s this been going on? I thought he’d changed!”

“He’s not- I-“ He shook his head to clear his thoughts, but then the sofa tipped on its end and the world went black.

*

“- let him rest.”

“He’d be down like a shot. Blaine asked-“

*

“-like fifteen hours.”

“It’s just the shock. You said yourself you don’t know how long it’s been going on. Maybe he feels safe here?”

“I’m just-“

*

“ –up this time?”

“I- Burt?” He blinked open his eyes, taking in the surroundings. Burt, as he’d predicted from the voice, was settled on a chair at the desk. He himself was on some sort of bed. In an office?

“Good to have you back with us, kid.” He smiled over, closing a window on the computer, before approaching the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“A little confused. My head aches.”

“You should take some painkillers.” He sat up, noticing his cardigan, bowtie and shirt were gone, replaced with an old McKinley PE shirt.

“I-I don’t remember changing.”

“That was Carole. She didn’t want you sleeping in your things. She’s going to put them in the wash tonight.”

“Thank you.” He took the cup and the tablets offered, swallowing them quickly.

“I don’t know what to say. Where are we?”

“I converted Kurt’s room into an office after he moved out.”

“Where is Kurt?” His heart was heavy – had he stayed at Walter’s?

“He’s staying in the guest room upstairs. I thought it was easier to keep you hidden down here. It’s a sofa-bed for starters, and then I could also keep an eye on you without Kurt getting suspicious. You should tell him, though.”

“I- He wouldn’t understand.”

“He’s head over heels for you, kid. That’s why he came back.”

“He’s got his own life here now. I’m too late.”

“You’ll never be too late. He’s never going to stop loving you, no matter how much you both convince yourselves to the contrary.”

“I-“

“I know that after Dave you might not want a relationship, but friends is a good start. And with time, and maybe some help, we can get the old you back.”

“After Dave?”

“You said he did this.”

“Karofsky did this. Dave-Dave’s not like that.” Burt raised an eyebrow. “He was drunk. Really drunk and I shouldn’t have gone back to rub it in his face. I just needed somewhere to stay whilst Kurt was with Walter.”

“Walter?” The doorbell went, but they both ignored it.

“I-uh-he’s Kurt’s boyfriend.”

“Like hell he is. I’ve not even heard of him!”

“Oh, I-“

“Dad!” Kurt’s voice echoed down the staircase. “Dad!”

“What is it, kid?”

“Can you get the door? I’ve got flour all over my hands.” Right, the door.

“I’m on it.”

Burt rolled his eyes at him, and he offered a small smile in response, before leaning back against the headboard.

*

At some point he must have closed his eyes, but he opened them as he heard the tell-tale creak of the stairs.

“You still awake?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head, forcing his eyes open to look at Burt. Despite his long sleep he was still knackered.

“What you said about Dave and Karofsky, it was true, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he was just drunk. He’s never been like it before.” He paused. “Why?”

“He’s upstairs. He wanted to see you, said he figured you’d be here, but I didn’t want to lead him straight here in case-“

“It’s fine. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and then I’ll come up.”

“Dad?”

“Kiddo?”

Kurt’s footsteps sounded down the first few steps before they stopped. “Blaine?” He lifted his eyes until they met the glasz pools of his ex. And then Kurt’s feet were pounding down the stairs. “Oh my god! What happened?”

“Dave and I had an argument.” His voice was small and he cursed himself for making it sound so.

“He did this to you?!”

“No! Well, yes, but he was drunk.”

“Drunk or sober – you look awful!”

“Thanks.”

“I-How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know.” He answered, as Burt said “since about eight last night.”

“Eight last- why didn’t you tell me he was here?!”

“I told him not to!” Blaine interrupted before Kurt could go on.

“Why?” Kurt looked heartbroken.

“You were busy with Walter.”

“I could’ve dropped everything.”

“You were happy.”

“I’m happier when I’m with you.”

Burt cleared his throat.

“Wait, if Dave did this, then why is he upstairs on the couch?!”

“I need to talk to him.”

“I’m not letting you anywhere near him! Your skin-tone is more like a plum than an olive. He’s not getting to touch you again!”

“He won’t.” Kurt raised an eyebrow in challenge.

He sighed. “He won’t, Kurt. Last night – that wasn’t him. He was really drunk, and I’m not condoning violence in any form, but I think that’s why he’s here. He wants to apologise. He really messed up, I’ll give you that, but I want to hear his apology.”

Kurt glanced at Burt as if to say ‘and you’re going to let this happen?’ but one look later he deflated, taking a deep breath. “Alright, but he so much as touches a hair and I’ll be in there like a shot.”

“He won’t.”

“He’d better not, or you might finally end up seeing some of the moves Sue taught us cheerios in her self-defence phase.” He smiled at that, washing away any doubts he had. He needed to face up to Dave, or he’d build up his fears and make things worse. And if Dave tried anything, he had the Hummels here. Maybe things really could go back to normal.

Best wishes, Dannah x