A/N: I wanted to write this because I was told I was good at delving into a character's psyche in certain situations. There is a complete plot to this but I didn't want to write it just yet. If people are interested, I'll continue. Thank you for reading and reviewing.


"Finn! Finn!"

Finn spun around, hearing his step-brother's piercing yell over the babble of the frantic crowd. Kurt pushed his way through the hoards of people, crying and holding each other or else utterly confused and searching for their friends.

"Finn, what happened? We heard gunshots and then…" Kurt asked as he reached the taller boy, breathing heavily, his eyes searching the crowd for familiar faces…he searched particularly for one face, the face of the curly haired boy whose name was racing through his mind. Kurt's thoughts were interrupted when Finn suddenly grabbed Kurt's shoulders, roughly dragging the small boy into a tight embrace. Kurt gasped as Finn stuttered shakily.

"K-Kurt, you're alright! Oh g-god, I was so scared!"

"Yes, Finn, I'm fine! What the hell happened?" Kurt asked brushing his brother off. His eyes rested on the ambulance a few feet away from where he stood, the siren deafening as paramedics scrambled at the head of the buzzing mass.

Finn's eyes anxiously scanned Kurt, searching for some sign of injury or harm.

"Finn!" Kurt yelled when his stepbrother didn't answer him.

Finn looked up at Kurt then, distracted. His eyes looked weary yet a frenzied liveliness remained in his distant expression.

"Finn, please! What happened?"

"He…he brought a gun…and he just started shooting. It was K-" Finn stopped short, his eyes widening and realization spread across his face. He stared at Kurt for a moment as if seeing him for the first time.

"Kurt…Kurt…" Finn repeated it, his voice rising in pitch and volume slightly each time. "Kurt, we need to move. Now. Come on, we have to get away from here." Finn reached and took Kurt's elbow, trying to lead him away, but the smaller boy struggled.

"Finn, stop! Why do we need to move?" Finn pushed harder now, terror lighting his expression as he tried to pull his younger brother away, but Kurt fought harder too and refused to be moved.

"Finn! What happened? What are you doing?"

"Kurt, please! Please, just move, please!"

"Finn, stop it! What's going on? Wh-"

Kurt's shout was silenced as the small boy stopped struggling. He had frozen in his spot, his eyes locked on a location five feet away, his mouth still open, mid-speech but his voice had caught in his throat and his ability to breathe escaped him.

Finn turned, his eyes meeting the spot where Kurt stared. The older boy sucked in breath quickly, sighing in defeat and bracing himself for the moment to come.

Kurt choked, his strangled voice coming out in no more than a whispered tremor.

"Bl…Blaine…"

The paramedics had pushed the stretcher into view and a part in the crowd provided a straight view of the boy upon the gurney. He laid, a peaceful expression dusted on his features. Loose ringlets rested perfectly on his forehead and around his square-face, forming a frame ending just above the sharp jaw line. The dark, full lashes did not flutter but simply lay, completely still. His chest did not rise and fall with the constant intake of breath but remained stagnant. The tranquil figure could have been carved from stone as it remained ever motionless as the paramedics let the white cloth drape over him gently, settling upon his serene face.

Kurt watched as they moved the stretcher toward the ambulance, tracing the white sheet with his eyes. He felt a hard impact against his knees and realized he had fallen upon them, as a tremor overtook him, the violent shaking obscuring his vision. A scream, wild and inhuman erupted from what seemed like far, far away. Only after the screech ceased and sobs overtook the frail boy did he realize the shriek had been his own.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!" He sobbed, beating the cracked pavement with his fist. He trembled violently, incoherent screams emitting from his throat, now dry and without the luxury of oxygen.

He felt arms wrap around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides. Finn had knelt to the ground and held him from behind, restraining the thrashing boy as sickening screeches continued to escape at their own merit. Finn held his flailing brother tightly and pressed his forehead against Kurt's back, trying to remain calm himself and hating the silent sobs he allowed and the inexcusable tears rushing down his cheeks.

Kurt tried fleetingly to escape Finn's hold, flailing and fighting with all his might, but when his efforts seemed to make no difference, he surrendered, closing in on Finn's thick arms encircling him. He wept into those arms, vile screams escaping all the while and the shuddering did not stop. His head spun and all matter in his stomach seemed to have dissolved in one nauseating moment, now leaving only an empty, radiating space. But worst of all his chest, the left half which contained the ever beating muscle that allowed life to continue flowing through the veins of the pale-skinned boy seemed to be writhing inside, an unbearable ache consuming it as he felt what could only be described as a shredding sensation slice open his throbbing core.

He continued to scream, sitting there amidst the unfamiliar, weeping throng, his brother's arms holding him together for he feared that if he were ever released he would simply shatter, the many pieces of a once whole boy scattering upon the broken ground. Only one word rang in his ears now, a word he'd cherished, the name of the one piece of hope that had allowed him to fight and live on in a world determined to destroy him; Blaine. Blaine. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. It sounded in his ears, making them vibrate and causing all consistent thought in his brain to cease and focus on the name, trying to hold onto it and amplifying it, making it resonate throughout his entire being.

"Why?" he choked, gasping for the air that the boy he loved would never feel fill his being, allowing life, again.