Kurt felt sick to his stomach.

He had woken up late, haphazardly put on some clothes and threw on a black vintage jacket on the top to hide his bad fashion choice. He'd spent ages looking for his dad's keys after missing the bus that he and Finn usually got, and had been half an hour late for his first lesson.

The rain droplets pelting against the window pane of the Spanish classroom didn't help to improve his already sour mood.

He swiveled his pen in his fingers, watching it with vague interest. Mercedes nudged him and the pen dropped with a clatter onto the floor. He turned to glare at her, but she simply pointed at Mr. Schuester. “The answer is ‘enfermedad'.”

Mr. Schuester beamed. “I'm glad to see someone was paying attention. Right, Azimio, give me the Spanish translation for asthma.”

Kurt sighed and rested his head on Mercedes' soft shoulder, earning a sympathetic pat from his best friend.

“Are you okay, baby?” she asked gently, stroking his back, a crease appearing on her forehead.

“I've just had a really bad day, that's all,” he responded.

“You can come back to mine after Glee, if you like.” Mercedes told him. “I've got some killer chocolate cookies that need eating, and I can't do it by myself!”

“You're my favorite,” Kurt replied, grinning at Mercedes. “Your chocolate chip cookies are the best cookies I've ever tasted.”

“Your ginger nuts are pretty damn delectable.”

Kurt nodded. “True, that's very true. We'll have to make both and see who the cookie champion is.”

“Bring it, Hummel.”

“It's on, Jones.”

The bell rang and Kurt leaned down to hug Mercedes. He kept forgetting how tall he had gotten over the summer holidays, and how lean after that horrible exercising and dieting. The results, he had to admit, were rather impressive.

Leaving the classroom, he headed towards his locker and pulled out his cellphone. He had a free period next lesson, so Kurt decided to have a look at Tumblr for a little while.

Removing his satchel from his locker, he headed to an empty classroom and sat down at the desk, placing his Geometry textbook on it neatly. He left a scatter of pens next to the book and smiled at his handiwork. If a pupil or teacher came in now, they would think he was only doing some homework.

Logging onto Tumblr, he laughed at a cute picture of Colin Morgan and Bradley James in a funny pose. With a quick reblog, he headed to his inbox, anxious to see if bowtiedjensenfreak had replied to his despondent, tired message.

He paused as he read a nice message from another user, saying how he'd inspired the person to write fics in the first place, though for an entirely different fandom. Kurt felt his world get slightly brighter as he read that message, his smile lighting up his face. It was a slight beacon of happiness in the disheartening day he'd been having.

He grinned as Sam informed him that they were going to meet another Supernatural fan at Sectionals this weekend. For the first time, Kurt found himself wondering what the fan would be like. Would he be crazily obsessive and proud about it, like Sam himself? Would he be more reserved, more like Kurt, scared to let anyone know about his secret life where he could truly be himself? Or would he be different from both Sam and Kurt, a mix of the two? Kurt was eager to find out.

Kurt paused as the door handle bent, signifying the entrance of someone. A sophomore peered into the room, saw Kurt, squeaked and disappeared. Kurt breathed out a gentle sigh of relief. He really didn't want to speak to anyone at this current moment in time.

His mood instantly improved as he spotted a message from his new best friend. His icon was becoming familiar to Kurt, and he was slightly worried by his own weird infatuation to the Tumblr user.

He sobered up slightly as he remembered the terrible message he'd last sent to Blaine. He wondered if Blaine had come back to say that he was pathetic, and should learn to toughen up because he still had it easier than lots of other people in the world.

Kurt forced himself to read the message, reassuring himself that Blaine wouldn't have said anything hurtful. Blaine was nice, a sweetheart. Kurt was a friend. Friends didn't hurt each other intentionally.

“I'm sorry to hear that you're being bullied. I know how you feel, I really do. I was bullied through most of middle school and my sophomore year of high school, until… something… happened, that made me finally make the decision to switch schools. Please, Kurt, hang in there. Running from your problems doesn't solve anything. Trust me, I know, and I've had to live with that decision ever since.”

Kurt frowned, sad that Blaine had had a hard time in his school. Who would want to bully such a nice person? Kurt understood the bullying targeted at him. He could be mean and, in all honesty, he wasn't very likeable. But Blaine? He seemed sweet. He seemed like a person who wouldn't harm anyone, even if damage had been done to him.

Kurt felt his emotions overpower him and typed quickly, saying everything he wanted to say in a character limited message.

“Bullies are idiots. I'm so sorry, Blaine, you didn't deserve that. No one does. But I can't afford to transfer schools. I can't leave. I'm stuck here. For the rest of my school life. It's sad, but it's true. Why shouldn't I run from my problems when it seems to be the only solution? I'm not special, Blaine. I'm nobody. I only have one option and I'm coping. Just.”

He hit send, and felt a tear fall down his cheek. “Hanging on by a thread,” he whispered and wrote a note down in his Geometry book. “The Kurt Hummel story.”

He shook his head and glanced at his inbox again, noticing a little one-worded message from Blaine himself.

“Courage” it simply stated, and Kurt closed his eyes, allowing himself to take a few deep breaths and attempt to feel courageous.

“I'm brave,” he whispered to himself ferociously. “I'm strong.”

Walking out, he held his cell tightly in his hands, looking at the screen with an invigorated sense of satisfaction and revelation.

A quick slam was all it took for him to fall to the floor, his phone dropping slowly from his hands. Kurt glared as he looked up at David Karofsky, who gave him a lopsided smirk.

Kurt picked up his cracked cell and re-read the message Blaine had sent him. “Hey!” he shouted, beginning to run after Karofsky. “I am talking to you!”

Karofsky was walking into the locker room. Kurt inhaled and, with all the courage he could muster, followed in after him.

“Girls' locker room is next door.” Karofsky replied, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

Kurt grimaced, annoyed that Karofsky didn't have the strength to face him. “What is your problem?”

Karofsky turned around, annoyed. “Excuse me?”

“What are you so scared of?” Kurt asked, desperately wanting to know why the bully was so focused on targeting him.

“Besides you sneaking in here to peek at my junk?”

“Oh, yeah, every straight guy's nightmare that all of us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well, guess what, ham hock? You're not my type.”

Karofsky leaned closer, his face red with anger. “That right?”

“Yeah,” Kurt responded, his voice confident. He was proud of himself for not wavering as he spoke. “I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they're thirty.”

Dave's voice was short, almost monotone, as he glared at Kurt. “Do not push me, Hummel.”

“You going to hit me?” Kurt asked, glancing up at Karofsky with hatred. “Do it.”

“Don't push me!”

“Hit me,” Kurt interrupted. “'cause it's not going to change who I am. You can't punch the gay out of me anymore than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!”

“I said get out of my face!” Karofsky shouted, inches away from Kurt.

Kurt braced himself for the blow that he knew would eventually come. “You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!”

Dave Karofsky leaned forward and kissed Kurt full on the mouth.

Kurt couldn't move, too horrified at what was currently happening. He forced himself to move, terrified of what Karofsky would try to do if he didn't. He backed away as Karofsky leaned in for another kiss, shaking his head in terror and bringing a hand to his mouth in shock.

Karofsky let out a frantic noise of dejection and left the locker room, leaving Kurt to stand there in confusion and terror.

His day had gotten implausibly terrifying.