Generic Disclaimer: Glee nor Klaine is mine. If you recognize it, it probably isn't mine.
A/N: So, I think this is going to be the final chapter, but I might post an Epilogue or something, I dunno yet. I'm swamped with classwork. Anyway, this is an action-y one, except I fail at action, so this is what you get. :)
"Um...Kurt? What are you doing in here?" Kurt looked up from the desk he was sitting at in the empty classroom, eyes wide and terrified.
"Is he gone? Blaine, is he gone?"
"Is who gone? Kurt, what's wrong? Are you okay? What are you doing in Monsieur Fourier's classroom? Aren't you supposed to be in lunch right?"
"Oh God, he was here, Blaine. I saw him. He was in the cafeteria, and I can't go in there, Blaine, I just can't."
"Kurt, who did you see? Who's got you like this?"
Blaine had heard about David Karofsky after he and Kurt's third date, from Kurt's father. Burt had told him about the football player's harassment and Kurt had later told him about what else the teen did. Hearing that Kurt had seen him in Dalton's cafeteria did no wonders for his temper.
After storming (calmly, of course) out of Monsieur Fourier's empty classroom and into the cafeteria, he stomped over to his group of misfits and slammed his hands down on the table.
"Dude, what's up with you?" Wes asked, looking alarmed at the short boy's actions."You took your meds today, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did, Wes, thank you. Now I need you all to help me find a guy in a red and white jacket that has an M on it, okay?"
"Blaine, what's the big deal?" David began, shoving a forkful of tomato into his mouth. "Those aren't even our school colo—"
"Dammit, just do it!" Blaine yelled, effectively ending any argument the remaining boys could have provided.
Within seconds the twelve boys had scouted the entire cafeteria, and Karofsky was nowhere to be found.
"What's going on, Blaine? Why's it so important to find this dude?" Trent asked, panting slightly from the running around the huge cafeteria.
"He hurt Kurt! I won't let him get away with that!" The ten other boys were startled at the fury and passion in Blaine's eyes. They'd never, ever seen anything of the sort in the musician, and were, to be completely honest, scared.
"Right." Trent said, voice trembling as he did.
"Blaine!" Wes jogged up to him, putting a hand on David's shoulder to steady himself. "One of the guys saw some kid in a red and white jacket leave the caf about five minutes ago. He was headed toward the Art wing. Blaine, wait!"
It was a lost cause. The small but powerful musician was gone, racing down the hallways to the Art wing. Left, left, right, up the stairs, left, right, right, down this corridor, left, he coached himself, sprinting as fast as he could.
A flash of white, red, and yellow caught his eye from a corner, and his legs instantly pumped faster. He's got Kurt. Blaine was a one-man train at this point, barreling through the hallways as he rushed to get to where Kurt and Karofsky were.
"Let go of me, you Neanderthal!" Blaine turned immediately to his left at the sound of Kurt's voice. I will not let him hurt you again.
"Kurt!" He called, skidding to a stop at Miss Harrison's art room. "Kurt, are you okay?"
"Blaine! Blaine, thank God!"
"Who the hell's this? Another fairy?" Blaine's eyes lit with fire as he charged Karofsky, hurtling him into the wall.
"Don't you dare touch my boyfriend, you god forsaken prick." Blaine growled, picking up one of his steel-toed leather motorcycling boots and slamming it down on the football player's toe. Karofsky tried to shove him off, but Blaine dodged easily with his smaller height, and delivered a quick jab to the stomach and a knee to the crotch and then nose. "I swear to God, if you don't leave right this minute I will call the police and have you arrested for assault."
"I haven't laid a finger on you, fairy." Karofsky spat, glaring intently at the tiny boy.
"No, but you laid a finger on him, and that, you closeted homophobe, is where you made the biggest mistake of your entire life. I am the son of one of the wealthiest families not only in Ohio, but in the nation, and I swear to whatever deity you worship, that if you do not leave right now, I will exhaust every last one of our connections until you are in prison for at least fifteen years. Do you understand me?"
"Whatever, dude. You're crazy." The football player struggled to his feet, glancing between Blaine and Kurt, and walked away, uttering one single, three-letter word in his wake that made Blaine want to bury an engraving knife into the back of his head.
"Thank you, Blaine. I...I didn't know what was going to happen to me. You probably saved my life." Kurt smiled, and Blaine saw the tears that had already fallen and were threatening to fall once more. On impulse, he took the taller boy into his arms, squeezing him closer.
"I will always protect you, Kurt. Always."