Filll for this prompt on the GKM = ( inspired wholly by this: post/18123940222/glee-au-sebastians-reason-for-getting-involved )

Sebastian feels incredibly guilty for what happened to Karofsky, but for more reasons than what anyone can imagine. See, he's had someone close to him commit suicide before and he never wanted to experience a repeat of that with Dave. The last person who took their own life was his twin brother and it hit Sebastian as hard now as it did then.

That's why he left Paris. He couldn't bear to stay at the same school, same home, around the same things that constantly reminded him of his brother. (Same with why he's adopted the vicious attitude, maybe? He doesn't need to make any more friends when he's already lost the best friend he used to have)

When he tells this to Kurt & the New Directions kids, it comes as a surprise to him too. But they give him the support he needs and maybe help him make amends for what he's done. I'd like to see a friendship (AT THE VERY LEAST) come out of it, especially between Sebastian and Kurt (who now sees him in a very different light).

I wooould like to see Sebastian/Kurt get together eventually, but gen fic is awesome too!

No extreme kinks if sex is included. I JUST WANT ALL THE ANGST.

General Warnings: angst, suicide references, traumatic memories, bad/foul language, maybe a bit of violence, tears, may be explicit post-suicide discovery, terminal illnesses.


Chapter One

The Lima Bean was bustling as usual; not particularly busy, but not empty either. The light, incessant, meaningless background noise of other people's lives swirled around him, completely unaware as usual. He sat, working at a maths exercise in mindless boredom as he waited. He knew that they'd arrive.

It was bare moments later when he was rewarded, his attention immediately grabbed by a familiar, bitchy tone.

"Let me break it down for you, from one bitch to another." The dark-haired girl in a red cheerleading uniform plonked herself down into the other chair at his small table, her expression hard and understandably pissed off.

"Um…" He tried, still not quite used to Santana's incredibly to-the-point-bitches attitude, but she didn't let him get a word in edgeways.

"All of this vicious, underhanded crap has got to stop." Santana snapped, Kurt, Blaine and Brittany standing behind her, a brigade of defence; all wearing defensive, angry expressions. He took a breath, steeling himself a little and trying to contain a wince at the memory of what he did to Blaine.

"Exactly. That's why I called you here." He could hear his voice, slightly choked, slightly off, and it was that more than anything else which made Santana's mouth drop a little in confusion, rather than his actual words. "First of all," He turned to Blaine, trying desperately to not let his face twist too much, "Blaine, I am sorry about your eye." He said, swallowing.

"That means nothing to me." Blaine's voice was harsh, anger simmering beneath his tight control, and Sebastian took another calming breath, still staring up at him.

"Just give me a chance. I have no excuses, other than… a lame prank got completely out of control." He noticed Blaine's eyes tightening in outraged confusion, and he knew that it would be a while before his words even sank in properly. He plunged on, before either Blaine or his boyfriend could say anything in response. "Secondly, the Finn photos have all been destroyed." He addressed that part mainly to Kurt, before turning back to Santana, barely pausing for breath.

"I want the Warblers to win, fair and square. And," The four members of the New Directions were exchanging very confused glances by this point; Kurt's expression with his one eyebrow arched probably the most amusing, "We're going to take donations for Lady Gaga's Born This Way foundation. Win, lose or draw, we're going to dedicate our performance to Dave Karofsky. I thought you might want to join us." He tried to meet all of their eyes, willing them to see his sincerity without him having to further explain.

"Wait for the punch," Kurt said, not even trying to keep his voice down as he leant closer to Blaine. "You know it's coming." Blaine looked at him, still looking shocked by this turn of events but by that point even more willing than before to trust his boyfriend's words over Sebastian's.

"No." God dammit, his voice was steadily getting worse. "Not this time." He looked down, swallowed, but tried to carry on. "For… too long, I have treated… everything," He shrugged helplessly. "Like a big joke."

He tried not to remember, tried to stop the flash of the memory of that night in Scandals with Dave that passed through his mind, but he saw enough of it for another wave of self-disgust, shame and guilt to come crashing over him, words like '100 pounds overweight' and 'stay in the closet' whirling around his brain.

His eyes flashed to Santana, not particularly because he was specifically speaking to her, but because he knew she would understand his next words more than any of the rest of them.

"It's all fun and games." Another shrug. "Until it's not." He shook his head, watching them all as they stared at him, pity in their eyes. He looked up as Kurt gave a little snort of disbelief, his heart twisting in his chest.

"What, so that's it? You've suddenly seen the light, you're suddenly sorry? Why do you care? Since when do you care about anything but yourself?" Kurt demanded, and although the questions were accusing, and very pointed, there was also an undercurrent of plain confusion; none of them could understand his sudden change. He closed his eyes, swallowed; he had to tell them more.

"Did you know I had a twin brother?" He asked, working to keep his voice neutral as he looked up at them. They all looked mystified, Kurt raising an eyebrow; but something flashed in his eyes on the word 'had'. Something jolted in Sebastian's stomach when he realised that Kurt had noticed. Noticed his use of the past tense, when none of the others did. He wasn't sure what to think of that, so he resolutely continued.

"We did everything together… but he was sick. He was dying. And one day, the pain got too much, and he killed himself." He looked up, shoulders hunching slightly. The two couples facing him had gone very very still and quiet at his sudden confession, and he couldn't bear looking at Blaine's sympathetic face, Kurt's softening features, Brittany's confused sympathy; because he knew he looked completely and utterly heartbroken. And while Brittany didn't appear to completely understand, she still looked distressed by his grief, sending another funny pang through him.

The safest person to look at was Santana, and his eyes fell to her smooth, shielded face as he carried on.

"I didn't just lose my brother that day. I lost my best friend. And realising that… my words," he choked a little again, more obviously that time, feeling the air thicken with shock as he did so. "My words could drive someone to that point… That I could be responsible for something like that…" He shook his head a little, finally dropping his gaze when he saw a flash of pity even in Santana's eyes. "That was something of a wakeup call for me." He let it settle, actually physically unable to speak as he tried to keep the other memories from rising, keep his emotions vaguely in check.

Fuck, he needed to get drunk tonight.

"Well. That's… That changes things." Santana said quietly, but he couldn't look at her, at any of them, not quite yet. "I still don't trust you… but, well. I might be a bitch, but I'm not completely heartless." She stated, eyes unsure as Brittany reached for her hand and she squeezed back, her eyes never leaving Sebastian. "We'll give you a chance, Warbler. But if you're lying to us, or this is some ploy…" She left the threat hanging there, and once Sebastian would've risen to the bait. Now, it was the last thing he felt like doing. Instead he nodded, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.

"Thank you." He was relieved to hear that his voice was steady, a remarkable feat considering how close he was to losing control. He watched Santana lead Brittany out by their linked hands, staring up at Kurt and Blaine as neither of them moved.

"Sebastian…" Blaine started, but before he could shake his head no, tell him 'not now, please not now', Kurt laid a hand on Blaine's shoulder and shook his head a little. Sebastian felt a surge of gratitude towards Kurt, which was yet another new feeling, still watching as Kurt gently coaxed Blaine away, giving a sharp nod of thanks. Something in Kurt's expression shifted, but before he could try and figure out what it was, they were gone. He turned back to his table, breathing out shakily and resting his head in his hands.

Apparently, his therapist was right; bottling things up and burying them was bad for you. Because later they all came exploding out of the box, leaving shrapnel wounds and burns in their wake at just one trigger.

Karofsky's attempted suicide was Sebastian's trigger. Suddenly, all those memories were back, all the screaming and the shouting hurting just as much as the happy laughter and smiles as his mind flashed through them like some morbid film he couldn't pause anymore, only try to ignore.

He wa suddenly startled from his anxious, calm-the-fuck-down-now-you-can't-cry-in-a-coffee-shop session by soft material suddenly nudging against his hand where it was cradling his forehead.

Her jerked around to find himself staring at the inscrutable figure of Kurt Hummel, of all people, holding out a handkerchief to him.

For a moment all he could think, as he glanced between the hanky to Kurt's carefully expressionless face, was 'he would have a handkerchief with him' before he realised why Kurt was offering it.

Hesitantly and trying not to think about it, he accepted it, pressing it to his watery eyes thankfully in time to catch the liquid before it could spill over. He glanced up at Kurt, still very confused, and tried a smile of sorts.

"If you're planning on comforting me, couldn't you have at least brought Blaine with you? He's…" He bit off his words about how he'd rather be comforted by Blaine. "Cuddlier." He finished lamely, and he could tell that Kurt noticed. He stared at Sebastian for a second, before rolling his eyes and gracefully folding himself into the chair that Santana had recently vacated.

"I'm not here to comfort you, because you don't want comforting. Am I right?" He asked, surprisingly softly, watching Sebastian with wary but cautiously gentle blue eyes. Silently, Sebastian clenched the damp cloth between his hands, before realising his actions and beginning to smooth it out, mainly for something to do.

"So why are you here?" He asked, momentarily considering trying for flippancy, but dismissing the notion instantly. It was too late for that. For whatever reason, Kurt had come back and had now caught him almost crying. He could try and fix his reputation later when he was more emotionally stable, when all the memories threatening to overrun him now were shoved away again.

Oh, he'd be more careful with his words now. But he was not going to turn into Mr. Nice and Polite; he has never naturally been that way and now, now he couldn't give it up. He needed his wit, his sarcasm, his more gentle insults and jibing like a shield; without them he was just a scared little boy, as defenceless and broken as that day he came home to find his brother's body on the cold bathroom tiles.

"I'm…" Kurt trailed off, looking frustrated and a little unsure as Sebastian watched him from the corner of his eye, still smoothing the hanky out with long, trembling fingers. Kurt sighed, folding his arms.

"I don't like you." He said bluntly, and Sebastian could feel his defences rising like a tide, but Kurt continued. "You don't like me. I'm not about to hold you while you cry on my shoulder, nor would you want to cry on my shoulder… I just… I understand." He shrugged a little, dropping his gaze and tightening his grip on his elbows.

They sat, not looking at each other, in silence for several minutes as Sebastian tried to process this. Once he thought he understood, he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. Obviously Kurt had lost someone, someone close, which Kurt was presuming meant he understood.

Sebastian was still struggling with this concept.

"It hits you." Kurt said suddenly, raising his eyes as his posture straightened a little. Sebastian watched him, listening, and for once in his life he had no fucking idea what to say. "Really suddenly, at the strangest of times, it hits you. Full on hits you like a slap in the face." He said, and Sebastian merely stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Reminders. It can be something almost completely unrelated, something you've seen or heard thousands of times before, and then suddenly it reminds you. Of… it." Kurt continued thoughtfully, half speaking to himself as Sebastian stared at him. He swallowed.

"Like a song on the radio. Or something in a display window." He offered quietly, hearing Kurt's breathing hitch a little in surprise. "Or a whole country." Sebastian mumbled, not even considering the words. He looked up abruptly, catching Kurt's gaze with sudden intensity.

"You too." It was a statement, not a question, but at the same time it was a plea for confirmation, that Kurt hadn't just read a lot of books about loss and grieving, that he actually understood. Kurt seemed to hear that desperate plea, because he nodded jerkily; a quick, violent movement of affirmation.

"Whenever I look in the mirror… I see him." The words were out before he could stop them, and he could feel his own eyes widening even as he watched Kurt's do the same.

"Whenever I see my name." Kurt replied. Sebastian frowned, and Kurt gave another small shrug, giving a lopsided sort of smile. Despite never having seen that expression on Kurt's face before, Sebastian recognised it. It was the hiding-feelings smile, the one you used when you feel like crying and screaming but for whatever reason you couldn't.

Yes, Sebastian was very familiar with that smile.

"My middle name. It's… it's her name. Elizabeth." Kurt explained, still wearing that little pained smile, and Sebastian didn't ask for more clarification upon who Elizabeth was. He just sat, and for once, unlike with his now ex-therapist, unlike with the many, many family members or well-meaning people who'd tried to coax his feelings from him, get him to talk about it, Sebastian didn't feel the need to reply.

He was very aware that Kurt had just divulged a very personal piece of information, but he also knew that it was because for whatever reason, Kurt wanted to. Not because he wanted Sebastian to reply, or trade painful memories for painful memories. They sat in silence as the sky outside slowly darkens, and Sebastian felt more relaxed than he had in years; content to sit in silence with a boy he would probably still profess to hate or at least intensely dislike and not speak. Content to know that Kurt understood that they didn't need to talk, that Sebastian didn't want to go and cry somewhere, didn't want to be held or comforted with words or gestures.

It was dusk by the time Kurt suddenly shifted in his seat, and then there was a sudden awkwardness in the air. They had just spent the better part of an hour sitting at the same table in silence, but only then did it feel awkward, as Kurt mumbled something involving 'time' and 'home' and stood, dusting imaginary dust from his jeans.

They stared at each other for a few moments, Kurt seemingly deliberating something as he contemplated Sebastian. Apparently coming to a decision, Kurt snatched up his abandoned pen from where it was lying on his maths paper, and scribbled quickly on a napkin.

He handed the flimsy wad of paper to Sebastian, looking extremely nervous, and he took it, eyes dropping to the hastily scrawled digits. It was a phone number.

His eyes flew back up to Kurt, searching. Kurt coughed uncomfortably and shifted his weight to his other leg.

"Just if you… you know. If you need someone who… who understands. You… you can call. If you want to." Kurt explained helplessly, nodding at the napkin. Sebastian dropped his gaze back to it once more, looking up only when Kurt walked away; half rising from his seat.

"Kurt!" the other boy halted, turning to face him. "Thank you." He flapped the napkin with Kurt's number on it a bit, but Kurt, once more, understood; giving another nod, a tentative smile, and leaving.


So I started filling this on the GKM, but due to my general failing at working that website, I am going to continue it here. I haven't updated it for quite some time, but rest assured I will see this through to the end; it hasn't been abandoned! :)

Please review! XD