I'm back with another fic! I'm both happy and unhappy with the way this turned out. Some parts I don't like my writing, but I can't find a way to change it. Please give feedback!

-Fiona

WARNING: Possible triggers. Contains self-harm, attempted suicide, and attempted rape. Discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters. That privilege is RIB's...


Suicide.

I thought about that every day. I thought about it every time I was pushed into a locker, every time someone shouted "fag" into my face.

It seemed like such a simple solution. For a while, though, the glee club kept me grounded. They supported me and helped me get back on my feet after a tough day. But ever so slowly, they drifted away.

Then I truly became alone. Glee used to be my sanctuary…but it became like any other class. I wasn't noticed. I might as well have been dead; they probably wouldn't have even realized I was gone.

This was proved when Mr. Schuester called for boys vs. girls again. I moved to the girl's side and he didn't give a reason to believe that he'd consciously saw this action. Neither did the girls. They formed a circle, excluding me. After a minute, I stormed out of the room. No one followed or even called my name.

Angry and depressed, I skipped the rest of class and drove home. My father and Carole were at work so the house was empty and quiet.

I didn't know what was happening until I felt the razor cut into my flesh. I broke out of my trance when I saw red spill out of a thin line on my forearm. For half a minute, my mind was focused on the physical pain. I forgot about glee, I forgot about Karofsky, I forgot about every single thing that had screwed up my life. I just felt for those thirty seconds. Then I started to remember.

So I cut again.

And again.

And again.

I didn't stop until the skin on both arms were stained red and I couldn't hold the razor anymore. The bloodied piece of metal fell to the tile. In a twisted way, for the first time in month, I felt happy. Maybe it wasn't happiness…I felt calm.

I turned on the shower to wash off. I laughed sinisterly as my tears mixed with the blood going down the drain.

With my arms bandaged, I drove. I didn't have a clue where I was heading until I pulled into a parking lot. Looking up, I noted that it was a small coffee shop called The Lima Bean. It was on the edge of town so I wasn't afraid of running into anybody from school.

Walking in, I realized I didn't have a jacket to cover up my bandages. Then I realized I didn't care. I knew no one would notice anyways.

I had to clear my throat so the barista would take my order.

A few minutes later, I was sitting at a table, staring blankly into the distance and sipping my coffee.

"What are you thinking about so hard?"

I looked up and saw a boy around my age with gelled hair looking at me.

It took me a second, but I finally responded.

"Life."

He quietly laughed. "May I sit?"

Raking my eyes down his body, I slowly nodded. He looked harmless.

"What happened to your arms?"

I tensed. "Pry much?" I asked with an annoyed tone. "I don't even know your name, why should I tell you the first thing about me?"

"Blaine Anderson," he said with a grin, seemingly oblivious to my deathly stare. He gave me an expectant look.

"Kurt Hummel," I mumbled back, eyes focused on my coffee and all confidence I'd had ten seconds ago gone.

"So do you want to tell me what happened?"

"My cat," I lied easily.

Blaine nodded as he took a drink from his coffee.

"I used to have a cat," he commented. "This time of year he used to shed like crazy. I'd be lucky if I could find a shirt with no cat hair on it. So, judging by the clean state of your clothes, you either have a severe case of obsessive compulsive disorder, or you're lying."

"Fine, it was my dog."

He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow.

I sighed and slumped back in my chair. "Well?" I asked. "What are you going to do? Laugh at me? Find some friends to help beat me up? Call me an emo fag?"

Blaine looked at me with a new expression I couldn't name. "Is that what people do to you at school and at home?"

"School, yes," I said cautiously. "Home, no. They're both just as bad, though."

"Why is home as bad as school?"

I looked up and stared the boy in the eye. Why did he want to know my life story, why did he give a shit about the gay kid in the corner of a coffee shop?

In his eyes, I saw nothing but compassion and understanding.

"Because," I started with a sigh. "I've talked more with you than I have in the past week. The friends I had don't even say hi in the hallway. No one talks to me unless it's to call me homo or lady or fag. Even my dad hasn't said more than three words to me today."

The boy, Blaine, looked at me with the most genuine apologetic and sorrowful eyes I'd seen in months.

"And what happened today that made you hurt yourself?"

I shrugged.

"It might take a while."

Blaine pulled out his phone to check the time. "How about this," he said while pocketing the device. "I have choir practice in an hour and I need to get down there, but if you would feel so inclined, I'm sure my friends on the council wouldn't mind you sitting in."

I should've known it was too good to be true. As soon as he offered to go somewhere with me, I was positive he was someone Karofsky had gotten to help harass me.

I angrily stood. "Give it up. Tell Karofsky hi for me. I'm leaving; I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing any more of my problems."

I took a step but felt Blaine grabbing me.

"Don't touch me."

He grabbed my hand anyways. "Look at me," he said. I refused. "Look at me!" I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to let me go. "Please?"

The desperation in his voice caught my attention. I met his hazel eyes. What I saw there took my breath away. It had been so long since someone had looked at me like that.

I saw acceptance. I saw pain. I saw knowledge. I did not, however, see deceit or mockery.

"I'm sorry if something I said upset you," he said sincerely, staring into my eyes. "But if you're comfortable with it, I do wish you you'd join me."

For a moment, I was struck speechless. No one had ever tried to help me so persistently. I always had to find them and make them listen to my problems.

"I…okay."


"I'm really sorry about that back in the coffee shop," I said, a blush creeping up on my face. "I'm so used to having to keep my guard up for Karofsky and his pack of Neanderthals that of course. A cute boy just walks up to me and I start spilling my insecurities to him, my luck would be that he's one of Karofsky's friends."

Blaine simply grinned while he drove. My eyes widened when I realized what adjective I'd used to describe him.

Change the subject. Now.

"What school do you go to?" I asked innocently.

"Dalton Academy," he replied cheerfully.

Dalton Academy…I recognized that name. Where had I heard that before? Dalton Aca—oh.

"And this rehearsal we're going to…"

"I'm in my schools glee club, the Warblers."

Shit.

"I don't think I should go," I said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Um…I'm in the McKinley High New Directions."

"Ah," Blaine said, smiling at me. "Looks like I'll have to sneak you in."

Then he winked at me.

Good god.

I started to unconsciously lean on my elbow, but immediately jumped back with a quiet screech of pain. The cuts had started hurting a lot more.

"Do you want to start on that story, now?"

I sighed. "Can I ask you a sort of personal question?"

Blaine shot me a look. "Okay?"

"Are you gay?"

He burst into laughter.

Well, I guess that answered my question.

"No, god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but people always ask me that. I guess I do look pretty straight for a gay guy, but really. If you could just see my Vogue collection…yes, yes I am. Very gay."

That slightly comforted me.

"So you know the type of bullying a gay kid can go through in Ohio."

Blaine's grin became strained. "Y—yeah. Yeah I do. That was my reason for going to Dalton in the first place."

I raised my eyebrow inquisitively.

"There's a strict no bullying policy," he explained. "Everyone's treated equally."

Words couldn't describe my shock. The idea of that kind of haven existing seemed like just that. An idea.

"Hey, you okay?" Blaine inquired, lacing his fingers through mine in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. However, all it succeeded in was confusing me even more.

I'd never held hands with another boy before. Maybe it's stupid, but for a flamboyant gay teenager living in a small town in Ohio, it felt like a big deal.

"Um…" Very articulate, Hummel, I criticized myself. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm great."

"In that case," Blaine said calmly. "Would you like to begin?"

"Let me just start by saying that being the only out gay kid at McKinley doesn't make me the most popular person there, and being in glee doesn't help that."

"Really?" Blaine asked incredulously. "At Dalton, if you're in the Warblers, you're automatically popular."

"Stop making me jealous," I said, frowning.

"Sorry," he snickered at my expression. "Please continue. I'll try not to interrupt."

I took a deep breath.

"I'm pushed into lockers, laughed at, and slushied every day. For a long time, I could deal with it. The entirety of New Directions backed me up. I had a place to go when things got bad." When I paused, Blaine squeezed my hand encouragingly.

"Then the bullying gradually got worse. I was even being followed home. People would drive by my house and shout 'you're a fag'. They would call me, and somehow they finally got my father's number." I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. "He stopped telling me when he got the calls after a little while, but I could tell when he'd received them. He would look at my differently. He's always said before that he doesn't care if I'm gay, but I know he just wishes I was straight."

Blaine squeezed my hand again. I clutched his back.

"What happened today?"

"I was in glee," I started. "Last year, before sectionals, we did a boys verses girls competition to get us psyched up or something. I had automatically gone to the girl's side." Blaine laughed quietly. "Don't judge," I said playfully. "I get along with them better.

"Anyways, as soon as I got there, Mr. Schue had told me to go to the boy's side. Today he announced that we'd be doing that again. I went to the girl's side and…nothing. No response from Mr. Schue. I was happy that he'd finally let me be in their group until I realized that the girls didn't notice either. I finally walked out. No one paid attention to the sound of me slamming the door."

"So why did you self-harm?"

After a minute, I said quietly "I've had that razor for months. I just never used it because my dad would notice…but, like the glee club, he just stopped paying attention. And when I made that first cut, the physical pain outweighed the emotional and for that moment, I just forgot."

"Kurt," Blaine said quietly. When he said my name, shivers shot down my spine. What? We pulled into what I assumed was the Dalton parking lot. "I know that you feel really alone, but now that I've met you, I will always be there for you. I don't care how strange that sounds. I will be."

He squeezed my hand one more time before getting out of the car and opening my door for me. I quickly slipped out. Looking down, I wished I hadn't come. The bandages were very obvious; anyone who took one look at them would know what I'd done.

Blaine noticed my reluctance immediately. "Here," he said, shrugging out of his uniform jacket.

I gratefully put it on, but then made a sound of disgust. "God, this is so boxy, and the color does nothing for my complexion."

A laugh came from the boy next to me. He simply grabbed my hand again and led me into the massive building.

After half a dozen turns, we finally entered a well decorated room filled with uniformed boys.

"Warbler Blaine, how nice of you to join us," said a dark skinned boy sitting at a desk at the front of the room.

"Oh, shut up, David," Blaine responded.

"I see you brought a friend," the Asian sitting next to him commented.

"Guys, this is my frien—"

"Wes! He's wearing Blaine's blazer!"

"Get some, Anderson!"

"Our lead singer finally found a boyfriend!"

"They grow up so fast."

The group suddenly became very rowdy.

"Warblers!" The one that a boy had called Wes exclaimed. He banged a gavel on the table to get their attention. "Calm. Blaine, would you like to introduce your…friend?" He asked with a smirk.

"This is Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt! You gay?" A boy in the back yelled.

My eyes widened and suddenly I was back at McKinley with Karofsky shouting in my face. My breathing sped up and I quickly shook my head.

I flinched when I felt a hand grasping mine, but began to calm as Blaine spoke quietly in my ear.

"Shh, it's okay, you're safe," he repeated. Slowly, I came out of my panic and was faced with twenty curious stares. I slowly edged behind Blaine. "Yes, he's gay," he answered for me. "But, no, we are not dating."

"Aw," the boys, including Wes and David, whined.


I sat next to Blaine for the rehearsal which wasn't really a rehearsal. It mostly consisted of the council talking about what songs Blaine could sing best and what would or would not show Dalton in a positive light.

After the hour was over, I left with Blaine to go back to his car.

"Got enough info for your glee club, spy?" He asked teasingly.

"Ha," I snorted. "If they ask where I've been, I'll tell them everything. Lucky for you, no one will."


On Thursday, I walked down the hallways of McKinley feeling ten feet tall. I'd been texting Blaine all week and he made me feel better when everyone else ignored me.

To: Kurt

From: Blaine

Anything bad happen so far?

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

Nope, just being ignored. I guess it's better than being harassed.

To: Kurt

From: Blaine

If anything happens, call me and I'll ditch class. Even if it's small, I really want to get out of history :)

To: Blaine

From: Kurt

Good to know I'm just a reason to get out of class :P

And everything was great for that moment. I was smiling as I walked down the hallway until a hand shot out and pushed me into the lockers, right next to one being closed.

Pain shot through my hand as the metal swung shut against my wrist. The girl closing her locker gasped and reached out to help me, but then noticed Karofsky laughing and thought better of it. Throwing an apologetic glance, she scurried away.

I bit back a scream and hurried away. I went to the glee classroom, cradling my hand against my chest. I knew it would be empty; we had another class period until it began. Someone was bound to notice me writhing in pain and offer to take me home before I got there, right? But no, of course not. I found a seat in the empty choir room. Using my good hand, I fished out my phone and called Blaine.

"Hello?"

"Blaine?" I whimpered.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Can you come pick me up?"

"Of course, I'm almost to my car. What happened?"

"My wrist is sprained. I don't think it's broken, but I'm not sure."

"God, Kurt, you need to go to the nurse."

"I can't," I said as a sob shook my skinny frame. "They'll call my dad and…I just can't face him like this. He'll know it happened because I'm gay, and if I have to see that look in his face that says he wished I was straight one more time, I'll lose it, Blaine. Please, just come pick me up."

There was silence on the other end for a second, until I heard his voice again. "I'll be there in a little over an hour."

"Thank you," I whispered. I told him where the glee room was and hung up. I took some pain medication that I'd stashed in my bag a while before and settled in to wait.


After an hour, people started trickling in for glee. No one noticed me.

The boys and girls sat on opposite sides of the room, making last minute plans for the competition. Mr. Schue came in and started shuffling papers around and paid no attention to me, sitting in the middle of the room holding a swollen hand.

Fifteen minutes later, my ear drums were shattered by Rachel screeching "Spy!"

My eyes flashed open and I saw Blaine standing breathlessly in the doorway.

Mr. Schue made his way over to the boy at the door. "I'm sorry; you're a Warbler, right? Do you need something?"

"No, I'm here for Kurt," he gasped out.

Everyone searched the room for me and the sudden intake of breath meant they'd seen me and my hand.

"Kurt, what happened?" Finn exploded. So much for being brothers.

"I have been sitting here for over an hour," I said, attempting to keep my voice level.

The confused looks said enough.

"Let's go, Blaine," I said softly, starting to stand.

"Hell if I'm letting you walk," he muttered, swinging my messenger bag over his shoulder. He then proceeded to knock my feet out from under me and picked me up bridal style.

"It's good to know that you finally acknowledged his existence," Blaine said with a judgmental tone before walking out with me.

Before I began to protest about being carried out, I realized how strong Blaine's hands were and how safe I felt. I threw my good arm around his neck and rested my head on his chest. I closed my eyes and for those few minutes that he carried me to his car, I could ignore the pain of my hand and just relish the fact that I was in Blaine's arms.

After gently depositing me in the passenger seat—and I was surprised to realize how disappointed I was when he let go of me—he climbed into the driver's side and examined my hand.

"Hospital?"

"Home, please."

"But Kurt—"

"No, I want to go home. I'm almost one hundred percent sure that it's not broken and I have a brace at home. Besides, we couldn't afford the hospital."

Blaine gave me a look that I couldn't name, but relented. I gave him my address and he started driving.


"So what do you think I should do now?" I asked while holding a bag of ice to my wrist.

"For obvious reasons you can't confront Karofsky, but I do think you should accuse the glee club of what they've done," Blaine offered.

"Could you…do you think you could be there when I do?"

"Whatever you need."

"And I saw a guitar in the back of your car, do you play?"

"Uh…yeah, I do."

"I don't know how the Warblers go about these things, but I'd like…wow, it sounds so awkward when I say this, I don't know how Rachel does it. I'd like to perform a song when I talk to them."

Blaine nodded in understanding. We sat in silence for a few moments until I finally found the courage to ask something that had been swimming around my head all day.

"Can you…" I began. "Can you tell me what happened at your old school that made you transfer to Dalton?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. His brow furrowed and he appeared to be thinking very hard about something.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable with it," I said quickly.

"No, I just…haven't told anyone in a long time."

I nodded and waited patiently.

"First, let me say that your bullies are far worse because they don't just physically hurt you, they're also emotionally and mentally hurting you. Mine just pushed me around." Blaine pulled his legs onto the couch and sat cross-legged. "Most of it was just shoves. Pushing me into lockers, throwing my bag to the floor. Simple stuff, it never really got to me. The first time they actually beat me up, I went home bloody and cleaned myself up. When my parents found out I had a broken nose, I told them I accidentally got hit by an open locker. They didn't know I was gay.

"When I was fifteen, I was walking down the hallway, minding my own business, and some jocks came up." He paused and took a breath. I reached out for his hand and held it in mine just like he'd done for me so many days ago. "I tried to run, but they pushed me, and pushed me, and pushed me, until I didn't feel anything below my feet. I fell down the staircase, and when I reached the bottom, they came down and threw me down the next set." His grip on my hand strengthened.

"I broke my right leg, sprained my elbow, and my nose got broken again. While I was in the hospital, I came out to my parents. My dad…didn't take it well. He told me it was wrong and disgusting and that I better take it back and promise that I was straight or else he would kick me out. My mom worked to calm him down and while she wasn't wild about it at the time, she told me that I was still her son and if that's who I was, then that's who I was. My older brother, Taylor, went to a school called Dalton because he wanted a prestigious school like that on his college applications. My mom transferred me there for the no bullying policy.

"I hated myself for transferring because I felt weak. I wasn't the only out gay person at my school. There was another guy, his name was Brayden Murray. We stuck together and helped each other out when the bullying got bad. We were each other's only friend. One week after I transferred…Bray was killed. He was found in an alleyway, he'd bled to death. I found out that it took him hours to die. Hours that I was sitting safe at Dalton, hanging out with my new friends. I just sat there while he was bleeding to death in an alley. Everyone said it was a mugging gone wrong, only I knew that it was the jocks from school that'd killed him. Bray's parents didn't know he was gay, and we'd promised each other that no matter how unlikely it was, if something like this happened, I'd tell his parents that he was gay and vice versa. So I told his parents…and they didn't believe me. They told me I was sick for trying to hurt them even more after they'd lost their only child. That hurt me so much because even after Bray was dead, he still wasn't accepted by anyone other than me.

"Later, my parents got divorced. My mom said that my dad was a threat to me. Sometimes he would drink too much and yell and scream at me and tell me that he didn't want a f...a f..." He rubbed his hands against his face. "God, I'm sorry...when I'm reliving this...I can't even say it." I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "He didn't want a you-know-what living under his roof. Once, my mom didn't know he'd been drinking and she left for thirty seconds just to get the mail, and he started attacking me. Gave me a black eye and a broken rib. I live alone with my mom now. My older brother lives in an apartment and goes to a community college. He's waiting until I graduate to leave Ohio."

I pulled the boy in front of me into a hug. I couldn't imagine having my dad do that to me. My dad who I'd had forever, backing me up in everything I tried to do, just turn his back on me one day because of who I was. I couldn't imagine losing my only friend and then feeling positive that it was my fault…that if I hadn't wimped out and ran away, that he'd still be alive. I almost asked why Blaine's brother still lived here, but decided that I'd have time later to ask. He needed to be comforted right now.

Blaine hugged me back for a few more seconds than was normal but when he released me, the look in his eyes scared me. "I'm not done yet. When Bray died and when my parents were going through the divorce…I…I did this."

He took off his blazer and tie, and then began to unbutton the white shirt underneath. He took a deep breath and took off the dress shirt.

Blaine sat in front of me with only an undershirt covering his chest and I could see possibly a hundred old cuts along his arms and upper chest. Tears pricked my eyes. For the days that I'd known him, he'd been so confident and sure of himself, but now he couldn't have looked more afraid and vulnerable.

He slowly put his hands in my lap and showed me the pulse points in his wrist. There, I saw something I would never forget. I saw deep scars over the pulsing skin that had once been fatal.

Tears fell across Blaine's cheeks slowly. I pulled him into my arms again and the dam broke. He sobbed into my shirt and using my good arm, I rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked quietly.

Half a minute later, he tried to calm his tears and appeared to prepare himself to tell the story. "When I was still fifteen, a week before I was scheduled to transfer to Dalton, I did this to myself," he started, absently touching one wrist.


'Do you see what you're doing? You're tearing your family apart, you worthless piece of shit.' I looked into the mirror of my bathroom, shirtless, staring at the half a dozen fresh cuts on my stomach.

My mother had worried and hovered like a mad woman before she left for a meeting with the dean of Dalton. She was discussing my past, making sure the dean knew everything so that if I reacted…badly to anything, I had an excuse.

My brother was on a date for crying out loud, but that didn't stop him from texting me every half hour, checking up on me.

My father was gone for good. Because of me, Taylor and I had to lose a father, and our mother had to lose a husband.

I was ruining my family.

If I was gone, everything would be right again.

It's my fault that our family was incomplete.

Taylor's grades were probably dropping at Dalton. He boarded, but the only thing he did at his dorm room was sleep. All of his other time was spent at home. He hadn't done this until after their father had attacked me. Could I live with myself if Taylor threw away his academic scholarship for me?

No, I was better not being there to wreck anything else.

Still shirtless after cutting my stomach, I sat down in my bathtub. It was bound to be messy, so when Taylor, who would probably be home sooner, found me, he wouldn't have to clean anything. Just turn on the shower head and it would all wash away. I wouldn't be a nuisance to them.

I held the razor up to the pulse point in my wrist. After a second, I sat the metal down and grabbed my phone. After a second of thinking, I composed a text message.

To: Taylor

From: Blaine

Bye. Tell Mom I love her. Sorry to have been in the way.

I pressed send and sat the phone down on the tile next to the bathtub.

There. Now I could do it.

Feeling eerily peaceful, I picked up the razor. Quickly, I made the first slash. I gasped out in pain as blood flowed freely from the deep, pulsing wound. My eyes swam with the involuntary tears. I made my wounded arm move and forced my fingers to grip the razor. The intensity of my hold cut into my fingers. Somehow, I found the strength to cut into the veins on my other arm.

As I faded out of consciousness, I heard my phone ring. "All that I know is I'm breathing, all I can do is keep breathing, all we can do is keep breathing now" it sang. A smile graced my face as I silently laughed at the irony.

I couldn't keep breathing.

I let out what should have been my last breath.


"Blaine? Where are you? Blaine?" Who was that? Am I dead yet? "Oh my god, Blaine!" I think I am. The pain is nearly insufferable. I guess Heaven and Hell must exist, because I'm sure I'm in the latter.

Suddenly, I was being moved. Pain shot through my entire body and I cried out. "God, Blaine, please wake up!" Wake up? Does this mean I'm still alive? "Please, please, please, Blaine."

I felt myself being jostled and tried to groan out "No, let me die," but from what I could tell, it came out as a garbled mush.

"Please, Blaine. You can't die, you just can't!"

I tried to open my eyes so I could attempt to tell whoever it was that yes, I could die if I so pleased, which I do. I'm a bother and I mess up everything I touch.

I was better off gone.

I fell back into the blackness.


After a few minutes, Blaine's cries quieted. "I woke up a day later in the hospital. Taylor looked dead on his feet from lack of sleep and his eyes were bloodshot from crying. My mother was asleep in another chair in the room. Taylor still lives in Ohio because he likes to know I'm close by. He was accepted into Julliard, he likes theater, and said that after I graduate, we're going to move to New York together. Taylor…Taylor's my whole world. I've never told anyone that, including him," he whispered. He looked up at me and his hazel eyes bore into mine. They were red from crying but they also sparkled with more tears. "That's why I went up to you in the coffee shop, you know. I couldn't stand to see someone else with those scars. Whenever I look at myself…I feel disgusted that I could do that. I don't want anyone else to look at themselves and feel what I feel every day."

Hearing him talk like that…it did things to my heart that had never happened before. It felt like it was swelling so much it would burst. When he said he disgusted himself, it almost physically hurt me. This boy, this loving, caring, beautiful boy…hating himself every time he looked into the mirror? The tears that had been welling in my eyes while he told me his story finally spilled over. I held onto him while I cried, never wanting to let him go. I wanted to keep him in my arms, away from the world.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you for saving my life."

"Thank you for giving me a reason to live," Blaine whispered back.

I pulled away and look into his hazel eyes, glistening with tears. "I'm your reason to live? What about Taylor?"

"Taylor kept me safe and made me feel important. He set up a plan for us. I stayed alive to keep him happy. But you make me happy to be alive."

For what seemed like forever, I simply stared at him. Then, I gave in.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

For a moment, I was in pure bliss. Then I noticed that Blaine was unresponsive.

I quickly pulled away and stared at my hands in my lap, tears welling up again. "Sorry," I muttered.

Blaine unfroze and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.

"For what?"

"Because," I started, confused. What did he think? "That was stupid of me to just…kiss you when you're going through an emotional crisis."

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"If I hadn't been emotional, would you still be sorry that you did that?"

I looked deep into his eyes, cocking my head at him quizzically. I slowly shook my head.

A smile spread across his face and he leaned in, firmly kissing me.

My eyes were wide and all I could see was Blaine's softly shut eyelids a mere two centimeters away from me. Then I realized.

I'm kissing Blaine Anderson. No, he's kissing me. Voluntarily.

At that thought, my eyelids fluttered shut and I melted into the kiss.

So this is what being needed felt like.

It felt real good.


"Are you sure we should do this?" I asked nervously. I'd skipped all of school, but was now in the passenger seat of Blaine's car in the parking lot of McKinley. Dad hadn't noticed that I had stayed home.

Blaine had stayed over for hours the night before, and we'd simply talked about anything and everything. Finn had tried to talk to me countless times, but I kept my door locked and went silent when he knocked.

"Kurt, they need to know the extent of what they've done to you," Blaine said, laying a hand on mine. My other hand was in a brace. Seeing Blaine carrying his guitar made everything seem much more real.

I looked at our hands and then gave a sigh. "I know, I'm just scared."

When Blaine was silent, I looked up. He was looking at me with an expression I'd never been looked at with before. It was caring, it was acceptance, and it was affection. He leaned over and pecked me on the lips. "Don't be," he whispered.

I almost whined after he kissed me. If I could have just spent the whole day kissing him, I would. We climbed out of the car and then walked hand in hand into the school building. It was after three so very few people were around.

I led us to the glee room. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. Mr. Schue seemed shaken while he quietly addressed the club, mumbling something about the performances each group was supposed to do. No one was listening; they were all in their little worlds.

"Mr. Schue?" I asked.

He looked up. "Kurt," he said, looking relieved. "We've all been worried about you."

"Well, you should have been."

"We wanted to—"

"If what you wanted was to apologize to me, save it. I have something I need to say."

Mr. Schue nodded dejectedly and sat down.

I looked at Blaine and he squeezed my hand encouragingly.

"I can see your remorse, but I don't want your pity. I want your understanding."

Finn had his head in his hands while Mercedes' and Rachel's expressions had screwed up into those of near tears. I couldn't help but wonder, was it bad that I was happy they felt awful?

"These past weeks, hell, probably a month, I've been alone. Glee was always the place that I was welcomed, but you all made it just like everywhere else. Harsh. Unaccepting. The only thing that kept me…alive these past few days, was Blaine."

I looked at him. He was gazing at me with pain in his eyes.

"I can't really begin to explain how depressed I was, so I decided to sing it."

Blaine opened his case and pulled out an acoustic guitar. He slung the strap over his shoulders.

He began to strum the chords and I focused on him when I began.

Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby?

Right now I feel invisible to you, like I'm not real

Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you?

Why'd you turn away? Here's what I have to say

I took a deep breath and began to roll up my sleeves.

I was left to cry there

Waiting outside there

Grinning with a lost stare

That's when I decided

I rolled my sleeves up a little higher than my elbow. I looked down at the nearly healed scabs. I heard quite a few gasps come from the club, but I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't look at them.

Why should I care?

'Cause you weren't there

When I was scared

I was so alone

Eyes still shut, I took a step closer to Blaine. I laid my arm on his shoulder, needing to feel him there.

You, you need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

And I'm in this thing alone

I opened my eyes, but focused on nothing. I blankly stared at the tiled floor. I finally concentrated on Blaine when he moved his head to look at me, taking his eyes off the guitar for only a moment. But in that moment, I got the courage I so desperately needed.

Am I just some guy you place beside you

To take somebody's place?

When you turn around can you recognize my face?

You used to love me, you used to hug me

But that wasn't the case, everything wasn't okay

I looked up and made eye contact with each person in the club. Some wouldn't look back at me. Some looked ashamed. Some were crying. Some showed no emotion, like they were in shock.

I was left to cry there

Waiting outside there

Grinning with the lost stare

That's when I decided

A tear escaped my eyes as I started the chorus. I suddenly felt so exposed. I no longer had the adrenaline rush from earlier and I was having second thoughts. But there was no going back now. I couldn't just make them forget my scars, just like I never would.

Why should I care?

'Cause you weren't there

When I was scared

I was so alone

I self-consciously rubbed my hands against the scars as if I could rub them away. Another tear fell across my cheek.

You, you need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

And I'm in this thing alone

I closed my eyes again as more tears fell.

Crying out loud, I'm crying out loud

Crying out loud, I'm crying out loud

Open your eyes

Open up wide

My grip on Blaine's shoulder strengthened and I felt his neck muscles shift. I opened my eyes and just watched him. He glanced at me, making sure I was okay, and then turned back to the guitar.

Why should I care?

'Cause you weren't there

When I was scared

I was so alone

Why should I care?

'Cause you weren't there

When I was scared

I was so alone

Why should I care?

If you don't care

Then I don't care

We're not going anywhere

Why should I care?

'Cause you weren't there

When I was scared

I was so alone

Why should I care?

If you don't care

Then I don't care

We're not going anywhere

Blaine let the last chords fade out and I sang the few added lines at the end in the silence to him.

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

We're in this thing alone

Blaine pulled the guitar off and sat it on the piano. The moment his arms were free, I fell into them and let a sob rip through me. I'd never felt more vulnerable in my life. These people…these were the people who had been there for me for so long, and then they just stopped. I was baring all my secrets in front of them. I was showing my physical and emotional scars.

"Kurt," Finn started.

"No," I half shouted. I'd had enough of their looks. I stood in front of Blaine but kept one hand in his. "You can't just say that you're sorry and then let everything go back to the way it was. I thought you were all there for me; I thought you were my friends."

"We are your friends," Mercedes said quietly.

"You've got a damn strange way of showing it!" I shouted. "Karofsky, Azimio, everyone, they've been getting worse, and I've been dealing with it alone. Yesterday they shoved me into a locker that was being shut, and this happened!" I waved the arm that wasn't in Blaine's hand in the air. It was being supported by a tan brace. "I sat here for an hour and a half waiting for Blaine to pick me up because none of you noticed."

"If you'd just said something—" Finn started.

"So I have to go up to you to get attention? I have to request it? Do I not deserve to be noticed? Am I just the twelfth member, the one who makes you eligible for competitions?"

"Kurt, you know none of those things are true," Mr. Schue said, standing up. "We all care about you."

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his caring, when Blaine stepped in front of me. "You care about him? You care about him? You've got some nerve to say you care about him. I've only known Kurt for a week, and the first time we met, he told me he'd spoken more in those ten minutes than he had in the week before. I doubt any of you have ever gone through a true depression, because if you had, you would have noticed the signs of Kurt's. I saw him in the coffee shop; I saw the bandages; so I talked to him. That's all any of you had to do. Just talk to him. Let him know that someone cares. But no, that was too much for any of you to be bothered with; you were too wrapped up in your petty high school dramas to notice someone who was truly suffering."

A fresh wave of tears came and I wrapped my arms around Blaine's waist. He turned around and I buried my head in his chest, simply letting his scent wrap around me and calm me. What hurt the most was that it was all true. All I needed was one full conversation with someone who actually thought I was important. Instead, I got silence.

"Kurt—" Rachel began.

"I think I'd like to leave," I said, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm my tears. "Can we leave?" I whispered to Blaine.

"Of course," he replied just as quietly.

I kept my eyes trained on the floor, not brave enough to meet their eyes, as Blaine wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out of the classroom. We noiselessly walked down the hallway and we were soon at Blaine's car.

"You okay?" Blaine asked, brushing a bit of hair out of my eyes.

I took a shaky breath and nodded, leaning into his touch. "I will be."

"Let's go to your house, okay? We'll talk over our next steps and maybe talk to them again tomorrow."

After a moment, I shook my head. "No, I think there are a few more things I'd like to say to them today." Blaine made to walk back with me, but I laid a hand on his arm. "Could I do this bit alone?"

Blaine slowly nodded.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"I'll wait in the car."

I wrapped my arms around myself and made my way back to the building. I had an idea of what I was going to tell them. Maybe I shouldn't hate them so much, but am I not allowed to hate the people who drove me to self-harm? Blaine, a complete stranger, saved my life, while they, my supposed best friends, just sat in the side lines. How could they not—

I was hit with what seemed to be the force of a semi into a row of lockers.

"Hey, Lady," Karofsky breathed into my ear.

I closed my eyes. Just imagine you're somewhere else, he'll leave soon.

"Why are you crying? Did your little glee friends finally realize what a freak you are?"

I lowered my head and tried to stop listening.

"I saw you walk in with another guy, he your boyfriend, Hummel?"

"Leave me alone," I managed to squeak out.

"This is my school, I don't like you bringing your faggy boyfriend here, breathing up my air."

"Don't talk about him like that," I said, my voice slightly less shaky.

Karofsky's meaty hands pushed me tighter against the locker. I whimpered in pain. Go away, go away, go away, go away, go away!

The pressure disappeared and I found myself being shoved down the hallway. I was pushed through a door which swung open when I hit it. We were in the locker room.

"I don't think you get what I'm saying, Lady," Karofsky muttered into my ear. I was shoved into the lockers again.

"Walk out that door now, Karofsky, and I won't report you."

"Oh yeah?" He said with a mocking tone. "Gonna report me? For what? Showing you your place?"

"For harassment."

"Harassment, huh? This is harassment?"

Then his lips were pressed against mine.

I tried to scream, to push him off, anything. I could do nothing. I was immobile. I pushed against his huge form.

I felt a fist impact my gut. I was released. I fell to the ground with a scream.

"Don't fight back," he whispered with a look on his face that made me want to vomit.

I struggled to sit up and get away, but was pushed back down onto the floor. Karofsky straddled me.

"Please stop, please stop, please!" I closed my eyes, wishing that if I couldn't see it, it wouldn't happen. Tears fell down my cheeks.

Karofsky shushed me, making soothing sounds as if I were a crying baby. I felt his weight move, his hot breath blowing across my face. He forced his lips on mine again.

I gave up. I stopped fighting. I cleared my mind. If I couldn't stop him, then I would do my best not to feel.

"What the hell is going on here?"

No, no, no. Don't let him see me like this.

Karofsky's weight was pushed off of me and I heard him hit the lockers next to us. A hand gripped me around my waist and I was slid across the floor. Blaine's familiar arms wrapped around me. A sob ripped through my body.

I opened my eyes slightly. Blaine stood up as Karofsky did.

"N—no, Blaine," I said softly, my voice cracking.

Crack!

Blood fell from Karofsky's nose where Blaine's fist had connected with his face.

"Never. Touch him. Again."

Even I shrunk back at Blaine's tone.

Karofsky held a hand up to his nose.

Blaine rushed over to me. I tried to stand, but he shook his head and picked me up. He gripped me tightly to his chest. He gave another glare in Karofsky's direction and rushed out. Blaine ran through the hallways with me, and burst out the doors. Soon we were at Blaine's car. He stood me up and opened my door and ushered me in. He hurried to the driver's side and got in.

"You have no idea how hard it was not to crush his face in," Blaine seethed, staring at the steering wheel.

A sob wracked my body. Blaine's head flashed up and his expression softened a considerable amount when he saw my current state.

"Come here," he whispered, holding his hands out.

I gratefully fell into his embrace. Sure, the gear shift was sticking into my back and this definitely wasn't the most convenient position, but I needed comfort. Blaine's comfort, specifically.

I closed my eyes and cried into his shirt. I lifted my hand and scrubbed it against my lips, trying to get the taste of Karofsky off.

"Shh, no, Kurt," Blaine said in a calming tone. He gently pulled my hand away from my mouth and wrapped his fingers around mine.

"I hate him," I gasped.

"Me, too," Blaine said soothingly.

"Take me home?" I asked weakly.

"Of course."


"I feel disgusting," I said after finishing brushing my teeth for the tenth time.

"You're not going to do yourself any good staying in that bathroom," Blaine called from my room.

I sighed and turned off the light. I saw Blaine lying on my bed, arms opened invitingly. I fell into bed and curled up against his chest. I looked down and saw the sleeves of my shirt were still rolled up. I self-consciously rolled them down.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked.

"I don't want to look at them," I muttered.

"Okay, sit up," he ordered.

I slowly did, dejectedly staring at my lap.

"Shirt. Off."

My eyes widened and I looked up at him.

"B—Blaine…"

"Nothing sexual, I swear. Just do it."

My heart rate sped up, and not in a good way.

Blaine lifted his hand to cradle my cheek. "Please? I want to help you."

I leaned into the touch and then gave in. I touched the hem of my shirt, took a deep breath, and then pulled it off.

I looked away from my scarred arms.

Blaine pulled out my arms so that they were in the center of attention.

"What do you see when you look at this?"

"I feel disgusted. I see that I was too weak to handle anything. I permanently marred myself because I was too powerless to control myself. Look at you, your bullies were so much worse, but you're so strong."

"Let's say my bullies were worse than yours. I tried to kill myself. You think that's strong? You had the strength to stop yourself before you did anything worse. Do you want to know what I see when I look at your scars? When I look at you?"

I looked down and slowly nodded.

"I see a boy who was hurting and dealt with it in the only way he could think of at the time. You felt completely alone and felt like you had control over nothing, so you exercised the only control you had, the control over your body. You wanted to feel, you wanted to know you were able to make decisions." Blaine put a finger under my chin and made me look at him. "I'm sure you're hurting, now more than ever, but I know you're strong, and that they can't touch you. You'll always be better than them, no matter what happens. And I'll be there next to you."

That broke me. I cried for the tenth time that day and fell into Blaine's arms. He gripped me tightly and didn't let go until I pulled away.

"Do you want to go downstairs? I bet we can find an episode of Project Runway…"

I could only smile. "I think that sounds perfect."


"I can't believe she won that round, her outfit was awful! The colors didn't match correctly, and didn't go along with the theme. Those judges need to get their eyes checked."

Blaine said nothing. I looked up from where I was curled and saw him staring at me.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

I self-consciously reached my hand up.

"It's nothing, you just amaze me sometimes."

I gave a soft smile then bit my lip nervously.

"What's wrong?"

I looked into Blaine's eyes, then leaned up and kissed him. For a moment, fear raced through my veins, the action drawing me back to the events from earlier in the day. Then I realized that Blaine's lips felt nothing like Karofsky's. Karofsky was rough, dangerous. Blaine's were cautious and loving.

When we separated, Blaine's eyes were sparkling.

"Are you okay with that? Does it remind you too much of what happened today? Because if you're uncomfortable, I promise, I'd wait as long as you need until you're ready, just as long as you let me be arou—"

I silenced him by giving a chaste kiss.

"It's more than okay," I whispered.

His smile could have lit up the entire world.

I spread my body across the couch and rested my head on his chest. Blaine automatically wrapped his arms around my still quite bare torso.

For a few minutes, it was quiet as we watched the rest of the episode.

Then keys jingled in the lock.

My eyes flashed to the door right as it opened and I became hyperaware of my exposed scars. Before I had a chance to cover them up, my father walked through the door, and his eyes fell upon me.

Shirtless.

Lying on Blaine's chest.

Whose arms were wrapped around me.

With nearly healed cuts on my forearms.

My father stood in the doorway for a second, only half through the threshold, and was simply frozen for a few seconds. Then he averted his eyes and he walked fully into the living room, closed the door, and shuffled to the recliner.

I sat up, feeling exposed, and grasped Blaine's hand in mine.

Burt opened his mouth a few times, only to close it a second later.

"Dad? This is Blaine, my, um, boyfriend. I told you about him a few days ago."

"I don't remember that," he said gruffly.

"Because you never listen to what I'm saying," I muttered. "Well, I did."

"Kurt…what happened to your arms?"

I stared at my lap. I didn't know how to answer. I looked up to Blaine with pleading eyes.

"Sir," he began.

"Burt."

"Burt. I haven't known Kurt for all that long, but I do know that he has been going through some very tough times at school, and from what I understand, at home, too."

"What do you mean, problems here?"

His ignorance made me break my silence.

"You never listen to me! I talk to you, and it's like I might as well not be saying anything at all. It goes through one ear and out the other. This has been going on for a long time, and you never noticed anything."

"Kurt…"

"I just needed my dad to be there for me."

"I am here, kid."

I stood up and fell into my father's arms. He wrapped his warm arms around me and I felt at home.

"Burt, I think there's more you should know."

I snapped my head up and stared at Blaine, begging him not to.

Please don't tell him.

"He needs to know, Kurt. Karofsky needs to be punished for what he's done."

"Karofsky? What'd he do?"

I extricated myself from my father's arms and sat down next to Blaine. I couldn't look at my dad's expression when he found out. I knew better, but it didn't stop me from thinking…would he think I was weak for not being able to defend myself?

"Kurt? What happened?"

I shook my head, blocking the memories as tears welled in my eyes. I crossed my arms across my chest, wincing when I felt the roughness of the old cuts against my chest. Blaine wrapped an arm around my waist and I relaxed the smallest bit.

"I'm not sure what happened before I got there, but we'd been at McKinley, telling the New Directions what was happening with Kurt. We went to my car, but then Kurt decided to go back to tell them something else. It had been a few minutes and I was starting to get a bad feeling, so I went back in, and I passed a door and I heard Kurt crying."

I knew what was coming next. I tried to swallow my tears before they fell onto my cheeks. God, I was pathetic. How many times had I cried today? Get ahold of yourself, Hummel.

"I opened the door and I saw someone who I assumed was Karofsky on top of him…kissing him. I believe that if I hadn't shown up, which I'm so happy I did, that Karofsky may have raped him."

I closed my eyes and fell against Blaine's shoulder. I took in deep, even breaths to calm myself. I pushed away the memories and focused on Blaine's warmth next to me, his tight grip on my waist. I was safe.

There was a beat of silence.

"Kurt, is this true?"

Eyes still closed, I nodded.


Saturday morning, I woke up to light streaming through my window. I blearily opened my eyes and suddenly realized there was someone else in my bed. I was being held and I was acutely aware of the warm body that was spooning me. Blaine. I slowly turned around as to not wake him, and a smile touched my face when I saw him sleeping.

He looked so peaceful. His eyes fluttered as if he was dreaming and his mouth was slightly open as he breathed.

The events of yesterday came back to me. Dad had been furious and quickly called Figgins and then the police. I was forced to recount what had happened a couple times, but managed to keep myself calm because of Blaine's presence.

We went to my room early. Blaine said his parents were out of town on business, so he could spend the night, if I wanted him to, which of course I did. He was the only person I wasn't at least a little wary around. Burt told us later that the police had taken Karofsky into custody and there would be a hearing in the near future. It was likely that he would be sent to juvenile detention because I had Blaine as a witness.

We had heard nothing from Finn or any of the glee club members. I was almost happy for that, I needed some space away from them.

But for now, I had Blaine, and my only dilemma at the moment was how to wake him. I really didn't want to interrupt him, but I knew that I needed to eat, and he probably did, too. I gently placed my hand on his cheek and shook his face.

"Blaine."

The only response I got was him rolling onto his back, groaning something that sounded like "sleep".

The action warmed my heart. How was it possible to be this…this adorable? The word seemed like an understatement. I couldn't think of anything that described him.

"Blaine."

I received another groan.

Smirking, I leaned down to press a kiss to his lips and was rewarded with an entirely different groan. Blaine responded, sleepily sitting up and holding me. I pulled away.

"Good, you're awake."

"That was a nice way to wake me up…until you stopped. Come back."

He yawned widely and tried to bring me back. I laughed and grabbed his hand. "Breakfast."

I almost laughed when I realized I was still very much shirtless. I usually wasn't this comfortable when exposed this way, but for some reason, I wasn't itching to put on a shirt. I walked down the stairs hand in hand with Blaine, and then suddenly wished I had covered up.

The entirety of New Directions was standing in my living room.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Kurt, we felt awful after hearing what you revealed to us yesterday," Rachel started.

Finn picked up. "And we spent the rest of the day preparing this."

Puck began picking at an acoustic guitar. Finn started singing.

I guess you really did it this time

Left yourself in your war path

Lost your balance on a tight rope

Lost your mind trying to get it back

Wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into

Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?

And everybody believed in you

Blaine led me over to the couch and I sat down in his lap. I stared wordlessly at the group as they all sang the chorus.

It's alright, just wait and see

Your string of lights are still bright to me

Oh, who you are is not where you've been

You're still an innocent, you're still an innocent

Mercedes walked up and grabbed my hands and sang directly to me.

Did some things you can't speak of

But at night you live it all again

You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now

If only you had seen what you know now then

Wasn't it easier in your firefly catching days?

When everything out of reach someone bigger brought down to you

Wasn't it beautiful running wild 'til you fell asleep?

Before the monsters caught up to you

I squeezed her hands right before she stepped back to rejoin the group.

It's alright, just wait and see

Your string of lights are still bright to me

Oh, who you are is not where you've been

You're still an innocent

It's okay, life is a tough crowd

Seventeen is still growing up now

Who you are is not what you did

You're still an innocent

Rachel stepped forward, singing through the tears. I was touched because I could tell the difference between Rachel crying simply for effect, and Rachel crying because she was hurting.

Time turns, flames to embers, you'll have new Septembers

Every one of us has messed up too

Minds change like the weather, I hope you remember

Today is never too late to be brand new

I leaned back into Blaine's chest, containing my emotion. They regrouped and sang the end.

It's alright, just wait and see

Your string of lights are still bright to me

Oh, who you are is not where you've been

You're still an innocent

It's okay, life is a tough crowd

Seventeen is still growing up now

Who you are is not what you did

You're still an innocent, you're still an innocent

Lost your balance on a tightrope

It's never too late to get it back

I stood up and hugged Finn.

"Thank you," I said, directing it to the entire group.

"You know we love you no matter what."

"Even when we're acting like complete douchebags. And if Karofsky ever gives you any more shit, just come to us, we'll punch him in the face."

I smiled at Puck.

"I think you'd find it hard to do that while he's in a holding cell."

"What?"

Everyone looked at me with complete shock.

Finn smiled.

"Mom told me what happened last night. You guys go eat; I'll tell them what they need to know."

I gave him a short, grateful hug, and then walked into the kitchen. Blaine followed.

"I feel like I should still be angry with them, but it's hard to after that."

I smiled at Blaine's torn expression as I grabbed a banana and sat on a bar stool.

"It might take a little while for me to trust them completely again, but I think they're forgiven."

Blaine smiled at me and I stopped eating for a moment and just looked.

"What is it?"

"I think I love you."

There. I'd said it. Well, almost said it. But it was true, no matter what.

"It's just…you've saved my life. I'd probably have killed myself within days, and if I hadn't, I would've have gone through something so much worse with Karofsky. I'm so happy you came into my life when you did."

Blaine just smiled.

"I think I love you, too."


Thank you for reading! I like the ending very much so.

(insert shameless self promotion here) Please follow me on tumblr: cutegayboysex . tumblr . com (remove the spaces)

The song Kurt sings to ND is: "Losing Grip" by Avril Lavigne. Blaine's ringtone is: "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson. ND sings to Kurt: "Innocent" by Taylor Swift.

Please review! I will also take prompts for my next oneshot, if you're interested in helping that.

Every single review I get is an inspiration to write more! I try to reply to every one, but I'm sorry if it takes me a while. I've been very busy.

-Fiona