Trigger Warning- Public shooting/semi-hostage situation. It may not be a common trigger, but it's one of MY worst fears, so I figured that if I have a problem reading (and writing) these situations, then other people might, too.

Rumor Has It, February 8th, 2012 5:19 p.m.

"No, hold your arm out a little bit more-"

"Remind me why we're taking a picture at the bank?" Kurt asked, trying to hold Blaine's phone farther back.

"Because I'm bored, the line isn't moving, and I'm bored."

"You said that-"

"I know what I said! Now turn the phone a bit or the picture is going to be crooked." Kurt tried to turn his arm, whining at the pain in his elbow. The man in behind them reached around, grabbing the camera out of the teen's hand.

"Let me take it," he said, "twist your arm anymore and you'll have joint problems like me." The man laughed and held up the camera button, pressing the shutter button. Kurt smiled, taking the camera back.

"Thanks, I-" BAM!

"Everybody get down!" Screams echoed through the room as everyone dropped to the ground, covering up their heads. "Take out your phones and put them beside you." Everyone complied, including Kurt. He slid the iPhone across the tile, shaking with terror. "Hands on your head, don't move, don't talk, don't do anything and nobody gets hurt." Kurt shakily moved his hands up to cover the back of his head, and he whimpered, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Everyone watched from the corner of their eyes as the men kicked the phones to the other side of the bank, and then went behind the counter. One man, wearing dark sunglasses, held a gun to the cashier's head. He pushed her towards the back door, and three more robbers followed. One man with a gun stood beside the mass of customers, pointing and ready to shoot. Kurt started sobbing, muffling the sounds into the linoleum.

Blaine glanced out of the corner of his eye, seeing his boyfriend shake and sob. He slid a slight millimeter closer, quickly looking up to make sure the man hadn't seen him. He took a deep breath and slid to Kurt's side, turning his head to whisper in Kurt's ear.

"It's going to be fine-" he whispered. "This will all be over soon, and we'll go home, and-" The barrel of a gun pushed against the side of Blaine's head.

"You have something to say, faggot?" The gun was huge, most likely automatic. "I thought I gave you homos specific directions to shut the fuck up. Do what I tell you, and you don't get hurt." Kurt let out a little cry, a little louder than he had meant it to be. The man growled, kicking him in the side.

"Don't hurt him!" Blaine shouted with anger. The man scoffed, grabbing Blaine by the collar and pulling him off the ground.

"That's it-" He said, raising the gun to the back of Blaine's head. Kurt screamed. Just as the robber pulled the trigger, the old man from earlier grabbed his leg and tugged, bringing the man with the gun falling to the ground. The weapon- a submachine gun, like Kurt had guessed- kept firing. It pummeled into Blaine's right arm. Blaine screamed in pain, pinned beneath the robber's body weight.

The grey-haired man from earlier wrapped his arm around the gunman's neck, pulling him up. Bullets flew across the room, lodging in Kurt's leg and causing screams from several other people in the small crowd. The gun turned and sent bullets flying into both the robber and the old man's head, and then it was over. The police came in just as it ran out of ammunition.

Kurt raised his head, getting a glimpse of the bloody scene around him before burying his face in Blaine's chest again and sobbing. A few S.W.A.T. team men, who knows how they got there so fast, ran into the back to handle the other criminals. The rest of the cops formed an outward facing circle around the injured crowd and a few paramedics rushed in. It took only a split second to assess the damage and decide who needed help sooner. Two rushed to Kurt and Blaine's side. A woman with blonde hair lifted Kurt off of Blaine and started working on his leg, while the other- a man- started checking Blaine's breathing.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The woman asked softly, holding Kurt's wrist and pressing two fingers down.

"Kurt H-Hummel." She scribbled down his name. Kurt heard more emergency vehicles in the distance.

"Okay, Kurt, this is what we're going to do." She said, pressing a cloth to Kurt's wound. "When the police get the rest of the robbers out, we're going to do a lot of stuff to get you and your brother to the hospital." Kurt didn't correct the woman. "It's all going to happen really fast, and I need you to try not to ask too many questions, okay?" Kurt nodded. "All right. While we wait, I have to ask a few things. How bad is your pain, on a scale of 1-10?"


"Do you or your brother have any allergies or medical conditions?"

"Boyfriend. I'm allergic to shrimp, he doesn't have any allergies, and neither of us have any medical conditions." Kurt took a deep shaky breath, trying to stay calm.

"All right, are either of you on any medications?"


"When was the last time the two of you ate or drank anything?"

"Noon." She wrote on her clipboard again, just as the SWAT team left with the last of the robbers. Just as they were loaded into the truck, more paramedics rushed in with gurneys and stretchers. The woman looked down at Kurt.

"Just lay back, relax, and we'll be at the hospital before you know it."

I'm keeping this story as 'complete' because I honestly have no idea how many chapters of this I'm going to write. Just in case I write more, italics will be flashbacks, and normal text is "current day." They will alternate. Like- current day, flashback, current day, flashback, etc. etc.

IF I write more. I don't know yet.

A good way to encourage me is to click that little button right there vvv ;)