Kurt Elizabeth Hummel - No, really. That was his actual name - was the enigma of William McKinley High School.

Since beginning school there Blaine had spent a lot of time observing the boy. He never said anything because that would be, well, creepy. Not that watching him wasnt.

Kurt was average height, though his carefully coiffed hair gave him an extra few inches. His frame wasnt scrawny nor was he overtly muscular, rather he had a slender build that was often hidden behind layers of clothing. His eyes were a watery mixture of grey, blue, and blue.

However, it wasnt so much his physical appearance that made Blaine wish he could read minds. It was his personality, his attitude, that made Blaine the slightest bit desperate to try to understand what was going through his head. While it was quite entertaining watching him verbally spar with McKinleys worst and most idiotic, he must have been a lunatic to do so. At certain points in the day, almost like clockwork Kurt could be found either being body-checked, slushied, thrown into a dumpster, or whatever the flavor of the week was - pun intended, when it came to the slushies one could never predict what color theyd be painted. Moments later Kurt would be seen picking himself up off the ground or fishing his bag out of the garbage with the same bitchy, disgusted look, yet still kicking. Then Kurt was always waltzing around school wearing crazy, elaborate outfits, many of which looked physically exhausting. No matter how many times he got thrown in a dumpster or slushied (an annoyingly popular past time there) he simply brushed himself off or changed into another ridiculous outfit and walked on.

What further amazed Blaine was how much these jocks, Dave Karofsky in particular, seemed to hate him. Not just your typical teenage angst, but really hate him. What a scrawny glee club dork did to them to warrant such hostility was mind-boggling.

However interesting Blaine found it, he rarely talked to anyone often enough to find out why.

In the classes he and Kurt shared they had only crossed paths a few times; as it was the extent of their communication was a few furtive glances thrown across the room during the first few weeks, then the one time they were paired up for a French lesson. After the teacher assigned partners Hummel had slowly approached him, fear and wariness in his eyes. Eventually he must have realized that Blaine wouldnt try anything and they were able to finish the assignment with minimal conversation. During the exchange Blaine had been mildly surprised that Kurts voice really was that high-pitched all of the time. That was the end of their social interactions during the first weeks of the semester.

* * *

The rule that he had set in place at the beginning of the year had been thoughtlessly broken when he took a guy home the previous night. The guy immediately left afterwards, but come morning Blaine was left with a raging headache and an ever familiar dull ache in the pit of his stomach. During his daily coffee run he had been unable to dupe the barista as it had been a buff, very straight male. It was a very real possibility that the guy was on steroids, so Blaine didnt even think about trying his normal nonsense.

Blaine sat in the back of first period clutching his throbbing head. A few of his fellow classmates sent him knowing looks that he pointedly ignored.

Bang!

The teacher slammed the door shut. The noised seemed to resonate throughout the room, increased tenfold by the hangover.

"Good morning class!" She chirped, walking over to the front. "It seems that its that time of the year again."

A collective groan followed the statement.

"Thats right, assigned seating."

Blaine gingerly lifted his head from his arms and glanced around the room, sizing up the potentials. His eyes leapt from person to person.

Stoner Brett in all of his smelly, tripping glory. Mike Chang. Brittany, who had somehow managed to get into an advanced class. A creepy blonde that was staring at Blaine, making him cringe and turn away. Hummel.

His eyes bounced back to the blonde who gave a little wave. He shuddered.

The teacher split them into pairs alphabetically, beginning with Z. In the end, he was the odd man out. This suited him just fine. He gathered his things and traipsed back to the lonely desk in the far corner.

Throughout the rest of the day most the other classes instituted a new seating chart as well. For whatever reason Blaine always ended up by himself. It was a cruel metaphor to his life: always alone and immediately given up on. He made a point to think about it too hard, the headache was taking too long to dissipate for him to care about much else anyway.

He slumped out of history and ploughed through the masses, taking a detour to his locker before going to French (the school had managed to screw up his schedule and he wasnt about to go through getting it fixed, not this late in the semester). The crowd no longer parted for him. Over recent weeks his red alert status had subsided into a mindful yellow, warning people to remain vigilant, but acknowledging that he wasnt an imminent threat. The lack of action on his part kept them from cowering in fear - that was left to the jocks.

Speaking of which: Diagonally across the hall from his locker Karofsky had Hummel backed against the wall, his large figuring looming over him and his fist raised near Kurts face. They were locked in a battle of wits and Karofsky was losing. Kurt verbally slammed Karofsky while the jock struggled to mentally keep up. It quickly ended with Karofsky getting annoyed with their little game and forcefully shoving Kurt. The only adult around was the Spanish/glee club teacher Mr. Shue, but he didnt see it because his vision was blocked by an angry Sue Sylvester.

Blaine watched Karofsky walk away. Kurt slumped to the floor in a dejected heap. Something inside Blaines chest tugged painfully. Maybe it was the familiarity of it, otherwise it was indigestion. With a huff, Blaine closed the locker and crossed the hall, stopping a little away from Kurt.

Kurts eyes opened at the sound of approaching feet. He took in the dark leather of a pair of combat boots and thought that it was Puck, then his eyes trailed up and met a pair of unfamiliar honey eyes. Blaine Anderson. He wore his normal bored expression, only his expressive eyes gave away hints of pity. In his left hand he dangled Kurts messenger bag that had skidded across the floor when he was pushed. The gesture shocked him.

When he first transferred the second week of school everyone had assumed that he was the new Noah Puckerman who had, in their eyes, gone soft. Blaine proved them all wrong by generally keeping to himself, then over time fading into the background. Even though now he wasnt seen as a threat he still held the bad boy title. Kurt didnt have his own opinions on the guy as they had only spoken once. From this point of view Blaine Anderson didnt seem so bad boy.

He had on dark jeans tucked into heavy boots, a plain white t-shirt, and his iconic black leather jacket to top it off. His dark curly hair hung over his eyes; ever since hed transferred it had gone from shaved to where it could now be considered an afro. And of course, there was the bar through a thick eyebrow, the stud on his right earlobe, and the tiny hoop through his lip... So he actually was very much bad boy, but certainly not so much a hooligan or a bully. He donned the costume, but other than that there wasnt anything overtly terrifying about him, even from where he was looming over Kurt. Unlike when in the presence of Karofsky or some of the other jocks there wasnt an air of fear or hatred. It was just another guy.

The shock must have shown on his face. Blaine rolled his eyes and dropped the bag heavily in Kurts lap. Rather than offer a hand up - not that Kurt expected him to - he squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Hummel," He sighed. "Do yourself a favor and stay down."

Before Kurt could reply Blaine stood and walked away.

* * *

Kurt stomped into the French classroom, ten minutes late, and made a beeline to Blaines desk in the back. Blaine hadnt noticed him walk in and remained slumped in his chair, picking his fingernails boredly. He didnt even blink when Kurt slammed his palms down on the desk.

"What is your problem?"

"Okay class," The teacher said, looking up from her papers. She noticed Kurt standing. "Mr. Hummel, please take your seat."

Blood pulsed so loudly in Kurts ears that he didnt hear her. "Answer me!" He demanded.

Raising a pierced eyebrow, Blaine sat up straight. "You annoy me."

"Youve never even talked to me!"

Their raised voices began to attract the attention of everyone in the room.

"Class, pay attention! Mr. Hummel! Mr. Anderson! You can continue this after my class."

Everyone ignored her.

"You know I havent done anything, right?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond but the teacher had made her way to them and grabbed his arm tightly.

"If you werent usually so good, youd be in a months worth of detention - both of you! Now sit." She directed toward Kurt.

With one last glare Kurt turned on his heel and walked to his own seat. From across the room he could practically feel Blaines smirk on him. The teacher continued her class normally, and per usual the students ignored her. This time in favor of whispering about what had just occurred.

When only ten minutes were left, the teacher wrapped up the lesson and turned off the overhead.

"Thanks to a certain disagreement," Her eyes flicked between the offending boys, "I forgot to assign the seating chart."

As the second to last class for the day, nobody even bothered protesting anymore.

The teacher had drawn up a seating chart at random, so who Kurt would be stuck by for the remainder of the semester was anyones guess.

As she named off students he became increasingly nervous. He ended up being one of the last in a group that consisted of Azimio Adams, a soccer player named Christian Vidales, and Blaine. Christian was directed toward the table in front of the teachers desk and Kurt was sent to the back. He tried not to pout too much about it, but he knew he was already screwed.

"Kurt Hummel, I was going to have you next to Azimio. But I have a better idea." She said. "Blaine Anderson. Here, please."

Kurts wide eyes followed the delinquents journey across the room to the chair to his right.

"Lets see if we cant resolve our issues, hmm?" She gave them a pointed look that clearly meant, Behave. and then announced the remainder of the hour as free time.

For five minutes neither said anything. Blaine was bent over a notebook, doodling something, and Kurt stared at the opposite wall with crossed arms.

Blaine shoved the notebook away. "I was giving you some sage advice there."

Kurt jumped a little at the unexpected voice and swiveled toward Blaine, eyeing him warily. Blaines eyes were staring straight ahead. Kurt might have thought someone else had spoken, but though hed only heard it a handful of times Blaines smooth voice wasnt something he could easily mistake.

"It would do you good to listen." Blaine finally looked at him. "Youre welcome."

Since the beginning of the class period hed calmed down a good deal, but rage flared up in him again. "And what would you have me do?"

Without getting out of it, Blaine picked his chair up and turned it toward Kurt, giving him his full attention. Kurt got the impression that Blaine had spent the past class period thinking this over and waiting for him to ask.

"You have two options: Id love to tell you to try blending in," He smiled wryly. "But I know for you perky, glee club types that can be difficult."

Kurt would have been offended had that not been so true.

"Or," Blaine continued. "You could refuse to be the victim." The rest of his face remained impassive, but his eyes were so deep and bewitching it made Kurt forget to be angry.

"How?"

"Call them out," Blaine made a sweeping gesture, indicating some of the jocks in the room. "Confront him."

Blaine didnt have to explicitly say who he was talking about; he clearly meant Karofsky. Kurt blushed. He had figured the guy was smart enough to deduct how hed ended up on the floor, still hed been hoping that Blaine hadnt actually witnessed it happening. He wondered if Blaine had also noticed all of the other times. On the off chance that he did, why choose now to say anything? Then again, today had probably been happenstance; a freak encounter. Why would a guy like Blaine take interest in Kurt?

Kurt wouldnt get to ask any of these questions today because Blaine was speaking again, "Instead of coming after me, you could have gone for hammer hawk and bashed in his overly waxed eyebrows... If those toothpick arms are up for the challenge." He tapped Kurts bare arm with his pen. Kurt flicked it away, sending it skidding across the floor, then jerked the sleeve of his cardigan down self-consciously. Blaines stare made him uncomfortably turn away and begin packing his things.

"I dont condone violence. It doesnt solve anything."

"My last two problems beg to differ."

"I dont care. I wont resort to it." Kurt said firmly.

"Then my suggestion," Blaine got to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Join the track team."

Kurt stood as well, and followed him to the door. "Why?"

Blaine abruptly turned, making Kurt stumble a few steps backward. "Because youre going to spend the rest of your life running." Overhead the bell that signaled the end of the period chimed. Blaine didnt wait for a reply and walked away, leaving Kurt frozen in the doorway. Kurt watched him disappear into the crowded hallway.

"Kurt, dont forget your notebook." The teacher indicated toward the table hed just vacated. Lying on top of it was the same one Blaine had been drawing on.

"Oh, thats not mine. That belongs to..." The name on the corner of the cover caught his eye. "Me?"

He picked it up. It was indeed his sketch pad, the one that was supposed to be safety tucked away at the bottom of his bag. His blood boiled as he flipped through each page searching for signs of vandalism. The nerve of -

"Oh."

On the very last page in big letters the word Courage was printed neatly in ballpoint pen.

* * *

The next day shaped up to be equally as awful as the previous one before the first bell even rang.

That week must have been a record for Kurt. With the exception of earlier in the year when his dad was in a coma, never in his life had it felt like the world was actually out to get him. Kurt thought about all of the things he must have done in a previous lifetime to warrant being tossed in garbage, while he brushed said contents off of himself. He had been so close to making it into the school without incident when a band of Neanderthals picked him up from behind and pulled him off his feet, then dropped him in a dumpster and left. He had been on time, but now there was no way he would make it to class before the final bell.

Kurt pulled himself out of the trash and walked toward the school. While walking he shed his filthy outer jacket. Without it there was little need for further clean up.

Up until then hed been on a roll. The glee clubbers hadnt suffered a single slushy facial or been dumpster diving in weeks; those torturous activities had simply gone out of style. The only bullying had been pushing and taunts, most of which came from Karofsky, and all of which were directed at Kurt alone.

Inside the school the halls were empty and quiet. After a trip to his locker to drop off the jacket Kurt was finally on his way to first period, taking his time. The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of rapid footsteps and a swish. Kurt turned around just in time for the contents of a large cup to be emptied in his face. Freezing red liquid dripped down into his shirt and onto a puddle on the floor. By the time he wiped it from his eyes the culprit was gone.

Apparently slushies were back in season as well.

* * *

With less than half an hour to spare, Kurt trudged into Math. He took the assignment from the teacher and passed his seat up in favor of going to the back of the classroom. He disregarded any feelings the last desks occupant may have had about his company and sat down.

"How was the dumpster?" Blaine asked nonchalantly, continuing to copy down an equation from the board.

Kurt looked at him. "How did you-"

"Its the second Wednesday of the month, which means," Blaine flicked his pen in the direction of the window. "Trash day." Kurts eyes followed Blaines out the window where the dumpsters were in full view.

Without missing a beat Kurt deadpanned, "Soft as a pillow. I had a nice little nap."

He was happy when the lights dimmed; they effectively hid the heat that was spreading all the way down to his neck.

Blaine had seen him pushed around and endure the countless other tortures he was put through. Having his morning dumpster dive added to that list was absolutely mortifying, not to mention painful - there was a nice big gash on his side where a piece of glass had cut him. He made a mental note to clean it up and sterilize it when he got home.

Blaine leaned over sideways, his eyes glued to teacher, and said from the corner of his mouth, "No one else saw."

Kurt spent the little time left in the class period ignoring the strange tickling sensation on his left arm and mechanically taking notes while his mind kept going to the Karofsky problem and his Blaine solution. All hed been able to think about the previous night was Blaines advice. The mere thought of actually confronting Karofsky, and not just verbally sparring with him, was nerve-racking to say the least.

"What do I do?" He blurted.

Blaine started and hastily shoved a sharpie pen into his bag looking guilty. Kurt ignored it and continued to look at him beseechingly.

Blaine shrugged. "Confront them like you confronted me yesterday."

At nine oclock the final bell rang and everyone left quickly, including Blaine. Kurt was the last one out, still contemplating what he should say, if anything at all.

* * *

Confront them. Easier said than done.

He couldnt even stand up to the people he called friends. Now he was lost in Ohios very own Hogwarts almost two hours from home. Dozens of students tragically clad in red and blue blazers maneuvered around each other in every direction easily. Of course it was easy: they belonged there and knew where they were going.

A few minutes previously Kurt had managed to get stuck in a group of private school boys, all with a mission to get somewhere quickly. It was by sheer luck that they happened to be going to an impromptu performance put on by the Warblers. When they made it to the senior commons, he assumed from what he gathered from the boys excited chattering, he slipped in with them and was able to get a spot near the door.

Now that he was where he was supposed to be he was able to breathe and take in his surroundings. Being stuck in a small room full of boys that actually attended Dalton made Kurt fully realize how mistaken he was when he thought he would be able to blend in with a simple red tie and bondage shorts. To put it simply: He stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet nobody paid him much mind; they were all preoccupied.

In the middle of the room a small group of boys standing in a circle with their heads bowed and hands clasped began harmonizing. Slowly the boys moved out of the circle to reveal a brunette boy and then formed a line on either side of him.

The sun goes down

The stars come out

And all that counts is here and now

My universe will never be the same

Im glad you came, Im glad you came

The Warblers heads shot up and their acapella tune became much livelier. Suddenly the doors burst open and a dozen more boys, all singing, ran into the room displaying various dance moves and jumps on their way to the rest of the group. Everyone in the room cheered at that.

Rather than allowing himself to get sucked into the performance, Kurt carefully watched the group.

While the beginning of the song had been very energetic with lots of dancing and jumping around on everyones part, about halfway through just a little of the enthusiasm died down and it showed. It became clear that while very good singers, the Warblers were still a typical stool choir and tired easily. At the end of the song the Warblers were standing in a neat line looking much the same as when they began, if sweatier. The room burst into raucous applause.

Instead of leaving under the cover of the chaos Kurt stayed where he was and eventually everyone calmed down and began pushing tables and chairs back to their original places.

A tall boy with platinum blonde hair that stuck up everywhere slipped into the room looking flushed. He was the first to notice Kurt to his knowledge, but he didnt stop so Kurt wasnt bothered by it. Only a few other people noticed the blonde addition and watched him cross the room while giving him looks of thinly veiled exasperation.

The lead singer heard them and turned around. When he caught sight of the boy he smirked and called, "Im glad you came, Sterling."

Their friends rolled their eyes and gave them disgusted looks, but didnt say anything.

The blonde boy with the crazy hair sidled up next to the lead singer. Rather than making a show of flirting back the he tilted his head to the side and whispered something to him. The lead singers head shot up and looked directly at Kurt. Kurts eyes widened as he realized that hed been caught. Instead of trying to make a run for it as he probably should have, he looked down at his feet and awaited his retribution. He only looked up when two pairs of shoes shuffled up to him. It was the blonde and a round faced boy who had sang backup during the performance. They didnt look very menacing - in fact, they were smiling at him.

"Do you like coffee?" The round faced Warbler asked brightly.

* * *

Ten minutes later Kurt found himself sitting at another part of the school sitting at a round table, fresh latte in hand.

"Its very civilized for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying."

"We are not going to beat you up." Trent said incredulously. "Who do you take us for, Fight Club?"

Jeff kicked him under the table, and then looked at Kurt seriously. "Were not beating you up. Maybe give you tips, because I spotted you in like, five seconds flat."

"Im curious," Trent said. "Why did the New Directions send you?"

Kurt didnt even bother asking how they knew who he was. After all, Rachel did post all of their performances on MySpace, YouTube, and Facebook.

"Yeah, I get it Im a terrible spy." Kurt sighed. "It wasnt the New Directions that sent me. Just Puck and my stepbrother. They just wanted me to leave so the boys could put together a less gay performance for glee club." Kurt gasped at what he had just said and clapped a hand over his mouth. Hed really put his foot in it now. Trents eyebrows were raised high and Jeff wouldnt even look at him, instead his eyes were staring down into his lap. They sat in awkward silence. Trents eyebrows went back to normal and Jeff finally glanced at him, but hed prefer both of them to look at something else.

"You rang?" The lead singer from earlier appeared at the doorway. One look at Kurt and his look of confusion morphed into understanding. He strode over to the table and took a seat to Jeffs left. "Nick Duval." He said, holding out a hand.

Kurt took it cautiously. "Kurt Hummel."

"Pleased to meet you."

Jeff intertwined his and Nicks fingers on top of the table and smiled at him coyly. They might have been having a laugh, but the heart eyes were so genuine and tooth decayingly sweeet. Kurt finally understood.

Still he had to put his foot in his mouth again and say, "Is everyone gay here?"

They laughed.

"Oh God, now Im imagining gay Hogwarts." Trent chuckled.

"No." Nick said to Kurt. "Well, we - Trent, Jeff, and myself - are, but most of the others have girlfriends."

Though he no longer had anything to fear his heart was still beating fast causing the room to seem hotter than it really was. He pushed his sleeves up. Glancing down, he noticed black ink standing out against his pale skin. The memory of Blaines weird behavior in first period resurfaced. He pushed down the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Blaine would write courage on him in sharpie without his permission.

Though the temporary tattoo was annoying and potentially cancer causing, like the doodle in his sketchbook it him feel better. Stronger.

"You go to McKinley right?" Trent asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. Kurt nodded. "Thought so. Not a very nice place is it?"

Kurt looked at him bewildered.

"Both Trent and I went to McKinley our freshman year." Nick explained. "Hated that place. There was this one guy, made it his lifes goal to ruin mine when he found out I was gay. I didnt last a semester before I came here. I had been looking into Dalton months before that though."

The three Warblers looked at him expectantly.

"Im the only out kid there anymore. Theres this Neanderthal whos made it his mission to make me miserable and nobody - except maybe one person - seems to notice." It was suprising how easily that came out.

"Thats rough." Nick said sympathetically. "And if Im being honest, there really isnt much you can do, other than make sure you have a good support system and talk to them about it."

Kurts face fell. Hed figured as much. The rules at McKinley simply werent strong or imposing enough to be very effective.

Trent held out his phone to Kurt. "Give me your number and if theres ever anything you need, feel free."

After Kurt put his number into Trents phone the Jeff and Nick handed him theirs to do the same. Once they all had exchanged phone numbers they offered to show Kurt out. Happy to not have to find his own way back to his car, he accepted.

While they walked back through the school they made small conversation about much lighter subjects and Kurt was grateful for it, it took his mind off things for just a little while.

"Courage." Trent said, staring at Kurts forearm. Kurt looked down at the words and rubbed them lightly. "Interesting concept."

"Oh, no. My," Kurt struggled to find a word that appropriately described his relationship with Blaine. "Um, friend, did that with a marker."

"A special friend?" Trent prompted with flirtatious wink.

Kurt laughed. "No. Like I said, only gay kid I know."

Trent grinned broadly. "Not anymore. Now you know three."

"We should all hang out sometime. We can discuss our fabulous lifestyles." Jeff joked.

The other two rolled their eyes goodnaturedly.

"Or we could go get coffee and talk about the rumored revival of Rent?" Kurt suggested.

"Fair enough. Text us a and well meet up sometime."

Kurt got into his Navigator and pulled out of the massive Dalton parking lot. As he drove out the gates he saw three boys waving him away through the rearview mirror.

* * *

The next day in math Kurt sat in the back again. This time it wasnt because of a bad day, yesterday had actually turned out surprisingly well, but simply because he wanted to.

"You werent in class after lunch yesterday." Blaine observed.

"I wasnt."

Blaine looked at him expecting an answer.

"I had a thing that I had to do during school hours, that the teachers and my parents may not have known about."

"You skipped class." Blaine said simply. Kurt nodded. "I guess if Im that bad of an influence, maybe you should go back to Brett. Hes looking a little lonely over there."

"No." Kurt glanced at the ginger, who was attempting to smell his own shoe. "Ill take my chances over here if that means I dont have to smell the stench of homelessness. I cant take the smell."

"And how do I smell - in comparison?" Blaine rested his cheek in his fist and looked at him with bright, puppy eyes.

Amazing, Kurt couldnt help but think.

Even with the distance between them he could smell leather and raspberries; the scent invaded his senses and made it hard to think.

Rather than tell Blaine that he said, "Im not answering that."

"Fair enough."

Kurt bit his lip. "I just hope I wont be forcefully removed."

If he was forced to move back over to Brett he might just fall to his knees and beg for mercy.

Blaines lips twitched. "I think the teacher will give you a pass on this one."

They turned and watched as the Mrs. Terri approached Brett with a crinkled nose and informed him that it was not acceptable to put his bare feet on the table. This caused both boys to snicker.

After that Blaine actually initiated a conversation about the revival of Rent that was coming to Westerville in a month. Kurt was surprised but happily kept up the conversation. By the end of the hour they were talking about Kurts dads tire shop, after having been through multiple subjects. It supports Kurt how easy and natural it was talking to the other boy.

Blaine appeared scary and unapproachable, he often had a bad attitude, and he took advantage of people, but he was a good guy. Kurt hoped that Blaine wouldnt just grow bored of him one day. Blaine made him want to be brave and fight his own battles. He gave him hope in a place full of negativity and hate. If a bad boy and show choir gleek could accept each other despite their differences maybe everyone else could too.

Later that day when Karofsky slammed him against a locker something broke inside of him and he didnt think twice about running after him, Nicks advice be damned. He wanted to face his demons like a man.

Unfortunately fate threw him a curve ball that wasnt anticipated. Karofsky was gay and Kurt thought he was probably going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.

* * *

When Kurt woke up Thursday morning all he wanted to do was lie there forever, especially when he remembered the events of the locker room. Finn had to literally drag him out of bed so they could get to school on time. He hadnt had the energy to pick out an outfit the night before and threw on dark jeans and a button up. He had then been horrified to notice that he and Finn looked like they had coordinated their outfits to match.

He shuffled into first period with bags under his eyes and hair sticking up.

"Lookin good Hummel." Blaine commented when he sat down.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How did it go?" Blaine asked, disregarding his question. Seeing the expression on Kurts face Blaines feigned cheerful disposition disappeared and was replaced by a more serious expression. "Its all over the school that you and Karofsky had an, ah, altercation."

Kurt blanched. "He said that?"

Kurt felt uneasy at Blaines concern for the subject. Somebody had obviously said something if that was the gossip. Whatever Blaine had heard must have been proven right judging by how quickly his face was turning darker.

"Someone saw you follow him into the locker room yesterday. They wanted to know from Dave what happened in there." Blaine paused, seeming to decide whether he should continue. He finally sighed, then said in a low voice, "A few of them were evidently worried whether he was still straight."

Kurt held back a cringe. Vivid memories of the day before came flooding back, he had to focus on his breathing until he was able to calm down enough to push them from his mind. Blaine was too busy frowning at the desk to notice. "I heard them in the hallway this morning. Karofsky looked really freaked out when they mentioned it. It was weird."

"Hes probably just afraid hell catch the gay." Kurt lied. He was so angry that he didnt even bother considering Blaine might be homophobic.

Like the Warblers Blaine didnt react horribly as was expected. Instead, he looked at him sympathetically.

* * *

It shouldnt have been a hard decision. Kurt should have been able to take one look at Karofsky and realize that Nick was right. All he could do in this situation was avoid the problem and rely on his support system. But where was his support system now? Finn and Rachel were fighting in the choir room, while Quinn jealously watched. Artie was playing parole officer for Puck. Santana and Brittany were nowhere to be found. Mercedes was sick. Tina and Mike were too busy in an empty classroom. It wasnt their fault that they had lives outside of babysitting him, so he just had to accept that in that moment he didnt have an available support system.

Even though following Blaines advice didnt turn out so great the last time, he didnt want to back down just yet. He didnt blame the Warblers for being safely tucked away at Dalton. If he had that opportunity he would take it without a second thought. Kurt wasnt at Dalton where the normal rules of survival didnt apply. At McKinley it was fight or flight, and he was sick of running.

This was no longer just about him either. Dave Karofsky was gay and obviously very confused. There were no excuses for his behavior, but Kurt thought that maybe if he talked to him he could help him. Kurt realized that confronting him didnt mean things had to get physical, they could talk things out maturely. If that worked then so many problems at the school could be solved for at least two people, if not more.

He would try to talk to Dave during lunch.

Kurt never showed up to French. His absence made Blaines stomach lurch unpleasantly.

He supposed the only reason he cared about Kurt at all was because he had been in a similar situation not so long ago. After all that he had been through it seemed like he didnt care about anything at all, and often times it was hard to find reasons to, but he didnt want to see anyone else fall in the dark place he had. He knew Kurt was going through a lot and that he didnt let on how badly it was affecting him. Blaine had, in his mind, already screwed up his own life with the help of a lot of horrible people. He felt that even though he hadnt even made it to seventeen yet, he was already done. He never wanted someone as innocent as Kurt to feel like that. So when Kurt missed another class it was worrisome.

During chemistry he began to grow more restless and distracted himself by guzzling down water and fidgeting a lot. By the time the class was over his bladder was about to burst. He rushed into the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.

He was washing his hands at the sink when he heard a quiet sniffling in one of the stalls. Curiosity overtook him. The stall hadnt been locked and so the door gave easily. Kurt was slumped against the handicap rails, wiping his dripping nose with a wad of toilet paper. When he pushed the door all the way open Kurt startled, making Blaine jolt a little himself.

"Oh God, not you." Kurt groaned quietly and brushed past him.

Blaine caught sight of a bruise on his cheek. "Hey, hey. Kurt, look at me." He reached a gentle hand up by Kurts purple cheek, but Kurt jerked out of the way. Blaine immediately dropped it.

"Please, just not now." Kurt said sharply, though he didnt appear to be angry with him, just embarrassed and a little in shock. So Blaine stepped back and allowed him to brush past and out the door.

Blaines lips parted as he continued to stare at the spot Kurt had just vacated long after he was gone. It was a knotting feeling in his stomach that finally brought him back to reality. His jaw tightened and a hot flash struck his chest, rapidly expanding and filling his limbs with a fire where for so long there had only been ice. He slammed his fist down on the door and let his head rest next to it.

Even though he hadnt owed Kurt anything when he started giving advice and it was Kurts own discretion that he chose to follow it, he felt responsible. He felt that it was his harebrained advice that put Kurt in a bad situation. It was easy to forget that not everyone was as gung ho as he was and that not everyone could hold their own in a fight if it led to that.

Eventually he left the bathroom still fuming. His frustration was further increased when he saw a McKinley Titans Letterman jacket. He didnt know who the jacket belonged to, but he did know whose fist was imprinted on Kurts face. And Blaine swore that that person would pay for it.