I'm crazy about you

Second one shot in two days. I'm sorry guys. I'm also updating AOTS tonight, promises promises.

How great was Prom Queen? I'm still keyboard smashing, it was AMAZING. I just had to write this. I felt so much for poor Blaine.

Flashbacks are in italics. I don't condone the horrible homophobic words I had to use in here, but it was for purposes of character. T for swearing.

I don't own Glee.

"Blaine Warbler," Kurt paused for dramatic effect, and Blaine smirked at the affectionate nickname Kurt used on occasion for him. It had started when Rachel had drunkenly called him it at the train wreck extravaganza – he was never going to let Blaine live that down was he? - and had stuck. "Blaine Warbler," Kurt said again, before continuing, "will you go to junior prom with me?"

Blaine's heart began to pound, his stomach dropped and he gripped Kurt's hands ever so slightly harder over the table, as some sort of unconscious need for comfort. He swallowed. "Prom?" The word came out wrong and he could see Kurt's face fall ever so slightly that Blaine hadn't been as enthusiastic as he had been.

"It'll be the social event of the season?" Kurt smiled over the table at his boyfriend hopefully.

Blaine wanted to just say yes and be done with it, so badly. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kurt with his secrets – he trusted Kurt with his life, it was that this was Kurt's special day, and he wanted nothing more than to be there and support him during it. But he had to be honest. Kurt would know anyway, he could read him like a book, and always had been able too.

He'd paused too long. Kurt's eyes filled with hurt. "You don't wanna go to prom with me?" He asked quickly, pulling his hands away from Blaine. Blaine sighed inwardly.

"No of course, of course I wanna go with you!" Blaine hurriedly tried to defend himself. And it was true. He did want to go with Kurt, he wanted to slow dance with his boyfriend and hold his hand and tell him how beautiful he looked in his suit. "It's just...prom." Blaine stammered, cursing yet again for how badly he was handling this.

"What about prom, Blaine?" Kurt asked, his hands crossed over his front, his fierce bitch look painting his face. Blaine sighed and looked down at the table for a minute to avoid the warm glow of Kurt's green eyes. He swallowed. He'd have to go back to it, and he really didn't want too.

"At my old school there was this Sadie Hawkins dance.." He began, finally looking up at Kurt, his heart in his throat. "And I had just come out, so I asked a friend of mine – the only other gay guy in the school. While we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys..." Blaine swallowed. "Um...beat the living crap out of us."

Blaine could see the sympathy and hurt in Kurt's eyes as he reached across the table to hold Blaine's hand once again, but suddenly Blaine wasn't there, with Kurt, in Breadstix anymore, he was back at his old school, he was fifteen again.

"That was good!" Blaine laughed, hugging his closest friend Kyle, as they crashed out of the dance , tired, sweaty but pretty happy. As far as it could have, the dance had gone smoothly. Yeah there had been the jeers and the taunts, but that happened everyday, Kyle and Blaine were both out, and it was nothing they weren't used to, or couldn't handle.

"Yeah but the DJ? Not up to scratch." Kyle smirked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting someone. "Dad will be here in fifteen minutes, the traffic is terrible apparently."

"No biggie." Blaine smiled, as the two leaned against a wall outside the back of the hall, waiting for Kyle's dad.

Presently the scene was empty, and a few minutes later Blaine jumped as he heard a loud bang. He glanced around the corner and saw three guys from school walking towards them. One had punched the wall, and the other two had their fists clenched. They were the only three boys at that school that Blaine was genuinely afraid of. And here they were, outside the hall after the dance, deserted, approaching Blaine and Kyle. Blaine swallowed.

"Kyle is your dad nearly here?" He spat through gritted teeth.

"No, it's only been five minutes! Why are..." His words came abruptly to a halt as the three boys rounded the corner and approached Blaine and Kyle.

"Lady boys." The tallest guy smirked, pushing Blaine up against the wall. One of the others did the same with Kyle. Blaine swallowed.

"What is your problem?" Blaine snapped as fiercely as he dared, feeling helpless and small.

"My problem is you two, parading your fagginess about like we all wanna see it." He replied, then spat in Blaine's face as hard as he could. Blaine shut his eyes and willed the nausea to pass as the spit slid down his face.

"Yeah, we don't wanna look at that shit." The one who had Kyle against the wall yelled back.

"So we're gonna teach you gays a lesson. One that hopefully you won't forget." Smirked the boy standing back from the scene.

"Please, don't." Blaine despised the way the sentence came out, despised the way he had to beg for his safety when all he wanted to do was enjoy the school dance and get home.

"Please don't!" The tall boy mimicked Blaine's tone, and before Blaine could say anything more, his face was exploding with sheer pain. The boy threw one, two, three punches into Blaine's face, and by that point stars had begun to cloud his vision. He felt himself fall to the ground, then felt a burst of similar agony in his gut and his chest. He swore through his swollen lips as the toe of the boy's boot hit him particularly hard in the side. He could hear Kyle's screams and his own, and all he could taste was the metallic taste of his own blood, and he willed them to stop.

Eventually they must have gone, but Blaine couldn't wouldn't move, and when he could he pulled his wrecked body into a sitting position, swearing violently at how much the simple movement hurt. He looked up and saw Kyle standing up, clearly a little less hurt than him. Kyle's eyes were shining with tears and his face was bruised.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I can't." Then Kyle ran away in the opposite direction.

Blaine stayed sitting for a while, until he inevitably had to pull himself into a standing position. He held onto the wall for support, his torso burning with pain. His suit jacket was torn to bits, and his white shirt was dappled with blood and tears, under which bruises and cuts lay. He didn't want to know what his face looked like. He limped towards the bus stop, his heart beating faster every single time someone walked past him.

Blaine spat a load of blood on to the road, and when he got on the bus he attracted a few strange looks, people probably thinking he was a drunken teenager got into a fight with a friend. Let them think what they want, just let me get home, he thought.

Eventually he got home, stabbing his key in the door and opening it, listening for any signs of life in the house. He half wanted his mother to come and hold him and tell him it would be ok, and he half wanted to be left alone to sort himself out.

"Blaine darling is that you?" His mother called out from the living room.

"It's me." He called shakily, walking towards the doorway.

"How was...BLAINE?" His mother looked up and saw him, his suit in shreds, his face swollen and bruised and bleeding, blood leaking through his white shirt. "Darling what happened?" She ran over to him and stopped, running a gentle hand over his face. "Derek, get the first aid kit, it's in the cupboard under the sink."

Blaine's father had an empty expression on his face. He followed his wife's orders and disappeared to the kitchen.

"Baby," Blaine's mom whispered, and she ever so gently pulled Blaine into the comforting warmth of a hug. Blaine hugged back tightly, despite the pain it caused in his torso and especially in his side.

"Mommy," Blaine whispered, tears beginning to track down his beaten face.

His father had returned with the first aid kit, and his mother began to treat his cuts and bruises. When she had done all of them, especially the particularly bad one on his side, she sat him down, his father opposite. Blaine nudged as close as he could to her.

"Please don't make me go back to that school." Blaine whispered brokenly, "please. I'll do anything. I don't want any birthday presents. Or Christmas. Or anything. I'll do anything. Just please let me change schools, let me go to one where..." Blaine looked at his father, "where people like me don't get treated like this."

"Blaine..." His father started gruffly, clearing his throat.

"Daddy I know you aren't...you don't...I'm not who you wanted me to be. But it's the way I am and I am begging you, please don't make me go back to that school, I can't." Blaine began to sob again, and his mother pulled him into her chest once more. She glanced at Derek and he nodded at his wife, his eyes on his sobbing son.

"Don't worry, Blaine. We'll fix a transfer. First thing tomorrow. I promise baby." And she kissed the top of his messy almost black curls and rubbed his back, and he laid his head against her and hoped that things would turn out ok.

"I'm out, and I'm proud..." Blaine was back, back in the present, back with Kurt. "It's just a little bit of a sore spot..." He tried to explain.

He was still scared sometimes. What they did to him still scared him. Even when he was at Dalton, somewhere he'd always been safe. But he managed to forget about it most of the time. But this, this prom thing had brought it all back.

But Blaine looked at Kurt's face, watched as he explained that they could stand up together, and if they couldn't they could just go to a movie, he didn't mind, and Blaine felt such a swell of love for his boyfriend he felt like he could hardly breathe.

Kurt was amazing, incredible, brave, courageous, breathtaking, gorgeous, intelligent...any word Blaine could use to describe him was never enough. He felt happy, really, properly happy for the first time in years, when he was stood beside Kurt, knowing that they had each other, they would love and protect each other.

"I am crazy about you." Blaine leaned back and said gently, after a long wait. Kurt deserved this, heck, he deserved this. They both deserved to have a good prom, and as long as they were together, everything would be ok.

This wasn't about shit that had gone down in either of their pasts – that didn't matter. They were each others future, and their future started now.