New story for you guys! ok, so I was trollin' tumblr, as most nerdy individuals dooooo, and I found a prompt by evarren on my dash. It was about Kurt struggling with the bullies and school and almost giving up when Blaine, a ghost of a boy who commited suicide for the same reasons, finds him and has to help him so he can move on. I was so inspired by this because I had sort of thought of this before but I didn't really think much of it. I'm sure someone has already filled the prompt but I felt like taking a stab at it. Here it is. Lyrics in this chapter are from "Fix You" by Coldplay (also where the title of the story comes from and a good bit of the foundation of the plot comes from) and "Turning Tables" by Adele. You may recognize a certain sinister villain in this story as well. Enjoy.

Also wanna thank all of you for your support of my decision to join the Guard. Unfortunately, I was discharged for anxiety and depression and came home early. I'll just try and be the best damn civilian I can be. No shame in that ;).


Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try
To fix you

Slam.

"Aah," Kurt grunted as his shoulder collided with the locker for the third time that day.

"Watch where you're going, faggot," an anonymous voice called back at him, the sound of a high five echoing in his ears like a gunshot. Kurt leaned his head back against the locker and took a deep breath. His heart was pounding and his eyes were burning with unshed tears. He couldn't cry. Not here.

"Kurt? You ok?" Mr. Shuester, the glee club teacher approached him, looking concerned.

Kurt jumped, but straightened up. "Fine..."

Mr. Shuester clasped his shoulder. "Are you sure? You look pale-"

"I'm fine, ok?" Kurt shrugged off his hand and backed away, feeling suffocated by the touch. "I'm just not feeling too well...I think I'm gonna go home."

"Ok," Mr. Shue replied. "Be sure to check out at the office."

Kurt just turned and walked briskly toward the office, his chest starting to constrict. It was torture. His life had been this way for the past three years- all through his high school years. It was his third day of senior year and he was already in panic mode. Kurt Hummel was a proud, steadfast seventeen year old with no shame in showing who he really is. Lately, however, the venom of the other students' words were seeping beneath his skin, making him change slowly into a reclusive, nervous person that he never would have recognized.

Kurt checked out without much explanation except 'headache' and all but ran to his Navigator, slamming the door and leaning back against the head rest, the tears he had been holding back spilling out onto his pale cheeks.

Kurt was gay. Anyone with two eyes would have known it. It was part of him and had always been. He was 'that gay kid in glee club' to most of the population of McKinley High School. He had plenty of friends, but it was obvious that none of them really understood him. They often shot him sorrowful looks when he would get shoved aside in the hall or called degrading names, but they didn't exactly jump in to defend him. No one wanted to get involved with defending the gay kid in fear of being called equally degrading names. Kurt understood, but it didn't mean it didn't make him feel alone.

Truthfully, he wasn't alone. He did have one thing that kept him somewhat grounded. Sebastian.

Sebastian was his boyfriend. They had only been together a short time, but Kurt clung to him like an anchor. Their relationship wasn't exactly one he had always dreamed of, but Sebastian was there. Sebastian understood him. His friends didn't like him at all, saying he was too controlling and snobbish, but behind closed doors, he cared for Kurt in ways that his friends never could.

After finally pulling himself together and slowing his racing heart, he cranked his car to sped him, anxious for the seclusion of his room. When he pulled in, he inwardly groaned as he saw his step-mother's car in the drive way. He loved Carole, but he had really hoped to be alone. Kurt opened the door and tried to tiptoe to the stairs, but Carole heard him.

"Burt? Is that you?" she called from the living room where a news story about a young teenager was playing across the screen.

"No...it's me," Kurt called back. Carole stood from the couch and walked into the foyer.

"Kurt? What's wrong? Why are you home so early?"

Kurt avoided eye contact. Moms always knew when kids had been crying. "Just feeling a little sick. I just wanna go to my room if that's ok."

Carole nodded and cupped his cheek. "You don't feel warm. I'll leave you to it, then."

Kurt nodded and moved away from her touch, turning to move up the stairs and toward his room. When he closed the door, he sank to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. The constricting feeling was coming back and he took a deep breath before slowly letting it out. The quiet was starting to bother him a little so he stood up and moved over to his iHome and turned on his iPod, a song that meant the world to him popping up immediately. He had been listening to it the night before after he got off the phone with Sebastian. They had fought and made up coldly and he was convinced it was his fault. As Adele flooded his room, he plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling and let the words wash over him.

Close enough to start a war
All that I have is on the floor
God only knows what we're fighting for
All that I say, you always say more

I can't keep up with your turning tables
Under your thumb I can't breathe

It was all true. Kurt was already trapped in a world where people thought he was a disgrace, but in a relationship with a very charming boy who was just like him, he felt like he was being tied down. He almost feared escape. Sebastian was controlling, but Kurt always defended him saying he was having a bad day or that that's just the way he was. Kurt was never one to be controlled. He was strong and proud. Kurt met Sebastian at a bad time in his life and he gave Kurt the stability he needed. Someone to lean on for support. It scared him to death to know that Sebastian, the controlling, lust-driven boy that he was, had such power in his life.

Kurt's phone buzzed and Sebastian's face lit up the screen. Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe," his cool, high voice drifted through the speaker. "I came to pick you up for coffee, but your brother said you left. What's up?"

"Under the weather, that's all," Kurt turned onto his side.

"Aw, angel," Sebastian cooed. "I bet I could make it better."

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed out. He knew that voice.

"Sebastian, not today."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Sebastian said before disconnecting the call. Kurt groaned and lay his phone down. A knock at the door signaled Carole and he mumbled a 'come in'.

"Kurt? I'm going to the grocery store. Need anything?"

After shaking his head, she walked in and sat on the end of his bed. "Have you heard about that boy in Westerville? Hung himself in his dorm at Dalton Academy. Tragic."

"Yeah, they were talking about that today in French," Kurt said dully. He only casually heard it, trying to block out some of the horrible things they were saying about the boy.

"Kurt...if something's wrong...you'll tell me, right?" she looked upset. "It's just...it really shook me. He was yours and Finn's age...you just know that if anything is going on, you can talk to me."

Kurt sat up and smiled a small smile. "I know, Carole. Thanks."

She blinked quickly and patted his hand. "I'll be back later."

Kurt nodded and watched her leave. Just before she walked out, he heard her greeting Sebastian at the front door. A moment later, he appeared at the door in his blazer and tie.

"We got out early today. Anderson caused a bit of a stir," he strode in and sat down on Kurt's bed.

"You mean the kid who killed himself? You know him?"

"Not really. He was in the Warblers with me, but he didn't say much. Weird kid," Sebastian shrugged and edged closer to Kurt, placing a hand on his upper thigh. "Now, I believe I was here to make you feel better."

"Sebastian, I said not today, ok?" Kurt said a little breathlessly. Sebastian simply leaned over and placed soft kisses to the side of Kurt's neck, reveling in the shiver he got from it.

"Aw, come on...you always feel so much better after," Sebastian lay Kurt back and straddled Kurt, his hips pressing down into Kurt's. Kurt couldn't help the gasp that escaped and the betrayal of his body as his cock twitched to life in his jeans.

"Sebastian...stop, ok?" Kurt tried to sit up. Sebastian gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down, his eyes burning.

"We've talked about this, Kurt," his voice was now low and gravely. "You know how this works. I don't just stop."

Kurt strained against the hold on his shoulders, but moaned softly as Sebastian grinded down on him. A smile crept across Sebastian's face.

"See? You love this."

Sebastian released his shoulders to remove his blazer, tie and shirt, revealing his tanned, muscular chest. He gripped Kurt's collar and pulled him up for a passionate kiss. Kurt could do nothing but kiss back, his throat closing up slightly as he fought back tears. He didn't want this. Not now. Sebastian clawed open Kurt's shirt and pushed him back down on the bed to unbutton his jeans. Kurt closed his eyes against the fear he felt and tried to be anywhere else but where he was at that moment. There was suddenly a feeling he had like someone was watching him- not Sebastian who was busy sliding his jeans down his legs, but someone else. He glanced around and caught a glimpse of something translucent disappearing in the corner of the room. Confused, Kurt barely noticed when Sebastian's lips closed around him and a finger slid inside him.

"Fuck," Kurt gasped, pulling back slightly against the pain of the intrusion. Sebastian gripped his hip and held him down. Kurt felt another finger enter him and a tear escaped. His heart hammered against his chest and the crippling fear of being trapped conquered him. All he could do was lie there and let his boyfriend have him.

Thirty minutes later, Sebastian slid his shoes back on and stood up, zipping his slacks back up and adjusting his tie back into place. "I'll see you tomorrow,
gorgeous," he winked and walked out. Kurt slid his boxer briefs back on and sat up carefully, his backside burning slightly. He felt disgusting. Used. Violated.
He stood up and locked his door quickly before walking over to his en suite bathroom and opening the medicine cabinet. His razor that barely got used was sitting innocently on the shelf. He took it down and examined the silver blades inside. One slip and it could all be over. He glanced down at his milky white wrists and a sudden feeling of control swept over him. He finally felt it. What he had been wanting the whole time. Kurt went back to his bedroom and sat on the end of his bed, the razor held at his wrist. He knew if he pressed hard enough, he would finally have control of something. He could end the feeling of fear and submission and regret.

Then he couldn't. Kurt threw the razor against the wall and dropped his elbows onto his knees, gripping his hair tightly in his fists and letting out a frustrated growl. He couldn't even control his own death. Why was the world doing this to him? Making him feel so lost and weak?

A cold chill quickly shot up Kurt's spine. A feeling like a hand pressed in the center of his back caused him to jump and turn around, but no one was there. He shook his head. Now he's going crazy too?

"You're not crazy," he heard a somewhat distant voice say. Kurt stood up and stared at his bed, looking for whoever it belonged to.

"Kurt," the voice said again, a form appearing slowly on his bed. There, in the center of his bed, was a silvery figure of a boy. His hair looked like it may have once been dark and his eyes were kind and shining with a soft smile like the one on his lips. He sat cross-legged on the bed in a pair of tight jeans, cuffed at the bottom, a white t-shirt with three small buttons at the top, and a pair of black converse. Kurt stared open-mouthed at the boy, not really sure what he was seeing.

"Come sit," the boy moved over, his form becoming more solid. Kurt didn't move, but he let his mouth close.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Come on, Kurt."

"How do you know my name?" Kurt finally asked, his voice shaky.

"I know everything about you," the boy smiled warmly. "If you'll have a seat, I'll explain everything."

Kurt's eyes traveled to the boy's neck. There around the base was a dark bruised ring that circled around to the back. Rope burns decorated the center of it.

"A-are you..." Kurt stammered, indicating the boy's neck.

"Dead?" the boy smiled. "Yeah..."

Kurt stumbled back to his desk chair and sat down, feeling dizzy.

"Easy," the boy stood up off the bed and made his way slowly toward Kurt. "Are you ok?"

"There's a dead guy in my bedroom," Kurt said mostly to himself.

"I can explain-"

"What is wrong with me?" Kurt ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, you're talking to yourself and you sort of fell out...that's two things," the boy smirked and leaned against Kurt's desk.

Kurt sneered at the boy and ran a hand over his face. "What do you want with me?"

"Well, I've been given a mission of sorts," the boy crossed his arms over his broad chest. Kurt couldn't help but admire how beautiful the boy must have been. Even in his ethereal state he was gorgeous. "I'm stuck in limbo, basically. I can't go on just yet."

"Go on?" Kurt asked.

"To Heaven," the boy said matter-of-factly.

"So that's real?"

The boy laughed. "Yeah, it's real. I just can't cross the plain. There's something holding me back and as I was waiting, I was sent here with my mission."

"And that would be..."

"You," the boy's eyes softened. Kurt gave him a confused look.

"What about me? Do you have to kill me or something?"

"The opposite, actually. I have to save you."

Kurt swallowed hard. This boy was now looking directly into Kurt's eyes. "Kurt...I know what you were about to do."

Kurt's stomach twisted just a little. "Yeah...so?"

"Can I tell you something? From experience? It's not worth it," the boy knelt down in front of Kurt, placing a cold hand on his knee. Kurt could feel it. It was a light weight, but it was there. "I know what you're going through. I've been there. I know the names and the shoving and the feeling that the world hates you."

Kurt felt tears in his eyes again. "How?"

"Because I was gay, too," the boy tilted his head slightly, making his eyes lock with Kurt's. "Every day, I woke up feeling numb and heavy. I walked to my classes as quickly as I could to avoid the lacrosse team and went straight to my dorm each evening to lock myself away from everyone." The boy held up his arms, showing Kurt some white scars that ranged from thin to thick all the way up his arm. "Every night until the night I killed myself, I did this. I just wanted to feel something."

"Control," Kurt said in a quivering voice, tears slipping down his face. He had never felt so connected to anyone in his life.

"Yeah...control. Kurt, I'm here to help you. I can't move on until you do," the boy moved his hand from Kurt's knee to Kurt's hands that were clasped in his lap, gripping both of them with both of his. Kurt shivered at the touch that was so cold but so warming at the same time.

"I'm gonna fix you, Kurt," he said, squeezing Kurt's hands gently. "I'm gonna save you from making the same mistake I did."

Kurt let out a sob and the boy stood, pulling Kurt up out of the chair and leading him to the bed. The boy lay down and pulled Kurt over to the middle, wrapping a comforting arm around Kurt's middle. Kurt huddled into a ball and wept into his pillow, letting go as the ghost shushed him and stroked his thumb over Kurt's hand. After several minutes, Kurt finally calmed down.

"Sleep now, Kurt. You need it." The boy's soft sweet voice whispered in his ear.

"Who are you?" Kurt asked sleepily. He felt a smile on the boy's lips against his ear.

"Blaine," he said softly. "Blaine Anderson."


That's chapter one! More to come soon, folks!