He finally ends up driving to Mckinley's parking lot, only to sit there and think of the events at the start of the day. He had a family, a home, and a loving boyfriend. Now he had nothing, no where to turn to, no one to help him. That night he cries himself into to a nightmare filled sleep, waking almost every hour praying for the boy he loves.
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The next morning couldn't have come sooner, Blaine gets out of his car, his back and ribs aching from the horrible bedding and beating from the night before. He grabs some clean clothes and heads for the school's locker rooms, each step making him yelp or moan in pain. Once he gets there he passes a mirror, his bruised reflection catching his eyes. His cheek is purple and tender, the bruise reaching most of his left cheek and eye, there's dry blood down both sides of his face, one from the cut above his right eyebrow, the other from small cuts from the glass of his coffee table. He can see the tear marks that run down his face from all of last nights torments. He tears his eyes away from the sight heading for the showers, hoping to rid himself of the grime and blood that clings to him.

As he showers he realises the full extent of his injuries, the left side of his chest is turning slightly yellow, and with every breathe his it feels as if his entire chest is screaming, his left arm is raw, from where the glass had pierced his flesh. The warm water pelts down on his bruised chest, causing spikes of pain all over his body. He leans his head against the cool tiles, letting the water wash over him, trying to clear his head, and to ease the throbbing. He doesn't hear the locker room door ease open, nor the footsteps edging closer toward the showers.

"Oh my God!" A familiar voice says behind him, "what the hell are you doing here Frodo?!"
Blaine spins around to find Santana staring at him wide eyed and confused.
"Well, Bilbo?!" She yells, starting to get angry.
"I….I went for a run and was working out. I really needed a shower. It's not that big a deal." He mumbles, hoping she believes it. He grabs his towel, turning off the water, and wrapping the towel around himself.

"You're pretty stupid to even show your face around here. Especially after what you did to Kurt!" She says, eyes boring into him. He grabs his towel, wrapping it around himself, hoping to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Look, I'm going to make it right, I just need sometime," he mutters, clearly scared of Santana.
"I don't care what your-" Santana stares at Blaine's face, confused.
"What?" He looks at her frozen face, wondering why the sudden stop in conversation.
"What the hell happened to your face?" She breathes, pointing to the bruises darkening his face.

"I….I fell down the stairs, tripped on my guitar case," he casts his eyes to the floor, trying to hide the lie.
"As if! I know what the aftermath of a beating looks like, I've seen enough to know the difference between an accident and a bashing! Who hit you? Finn? Kurt?"
"My Dad!" He shouts, anger boiling through his veins.

Santana's eyes widen, guilt and regret filling them with in an instant.
"Why? Did you spill the milk at dinner? Or did he find your hair gel bill?" She asks, attempting light humour, still skeptical as to whether he was being sincere. Blaine's features only darken at her words.
"He found out I was dating Kurt. He said if I didn't break up with him, I'd no longer be his son, no longer welcome in his home, and he'd planned on sending me to the hospital, he didn't plan on me fighting back." He says, his eyes watering from the memories.
"But you did break up with Kurt, you ass!" She yells, ignoring Blaine's tears.

"I know, but the moment I did, I knew my Dad wasn't worth it, that the pain and hate I'd get was… no is worth Kurt. So I told my Dad that I broke up with him, but nothing's going to change the way I feel," his voice wavers, almost breaking. His eyes clouding over as he thinks back to the fight. Santana immediately regrets what she said, taking pity on the broken boy in front of her.
"So, now you know, you can leave! Go comfort Kurt when he gets here, and act as if you never knew, and that I broke up with him because I'm just a stupid jerk!" He shouts, voice lowering and eventually breaking.

"No! I want to help you! You need to tell Kurt, or at least see a doctor. Kurt will forgive you, he'll give you a place to stay." She whispers, doing her best to be comforting.

"No he won't! And when the hell did you become so caring," he spits, eyes still boring into hers. "No one in glee club gives a crap about me! So don't lie to me! He won't accept me, my own father doesn't why the hell would he?!" He yells, his voice bouncing of the lockers and tiles. He walks around to his bag gathering his clothes, he looks to Santana, frustration clear on his features.

"Will you leave now or do I have to do a freaking strip tease!" He yells, tired of the conversation.
Santana merely stares at him, pity in her eyes. She eventually casts her eyes downward and heads to the door.

"Just so you know, not all of us hate you. It's just that we're more loyal to Kurt. I'm sure if they knew what was going on-"
"Well they're not going to!" Blaine bellows, sending shockwaves of pain through his entire chest as he does so, causing him to fall against the locker next to him, his head spinning. Santana steps toward him, but the way his eyes darken at her, makes her stop as he recovers. He turns back to his clothes no longer caring about Santana's presence. She silently leaves the room, Blaine barely noticing continues to dress himself, most movements sending shocks of pain throughout his body.

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Blaine heads to his car, his body still aching, he throws his gym bag into the back seat, grabbing his messenger bag.
"Look, you need to listen," a voice from behind him announces, causing him to jump, hitting his head on the car roof in the process.
He turns glaring at the person behind him, Santana of course.
"Santana, what the hell?" He says through clenched teeth, rubbing his throbbing head.
"You need to listen to me! Kurt needs to know. He will help you, he will take care of you. He loves you! And I am not going to let you throw that away, not after all he's been through!" In an instant, Blaine's rage resurfaces.

"All that he's been through?! You ever freaking thought about what the hell I've been through! Has he been constantly yelled at because he was gay?!"
"Yes!" Santana retorts.
"By his own Father?! Was he beaten almost everyday after he came out?! Was he tormented and ignored to the point where he was ready to jump of a freaking building?!"

His eyes widen and his mouth goes dry as he realises all that he has revealed, *SHIT, SHIT FUCK! WHAT THE HELL?!Shut your mouth you stupid fucker!! God sakes…Damn it Damn it Damn it!!!!*
Santana stares at him, baffled.
"You…..you tried to…" She mumbles trying to take in the information. "You tried to kill yourself?" She breathes, her eyes searching the silent boy in front of him, for some hint that he was joking. Blaine slowly lifts his eyes to meet Santana's.

"I stood on the top of my old school's bell tower, and I was going to jump." *What are you doing?! Shut up! Why the FUCK did you say that?!?!?!? SHIT, SHIT, FUCK, CRAP! Fuck...*
Santana's eyes widen even more, if that's even physically possible and she begins to redden with embarrassment.
"Now you tell me, whether or not Kurt has been through that!" He slams his car door, knocking Santana's shoulder as he storms past.
Santana stands there shocked and embarrassed. "No," she breathes, "he hasn't."

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He walks through the doors and into the crowded hallways, the chatter dies down as his peers turn to him. Most of them gasping or gawking, some even smiling, the moment they catch site of the bruises covering his face. Blaine's thoughts instantly turn to the possible reactions of the glee club. *I should have stayed in my freaking car!*

He rushes to his first class of the day, thankful none of the glee kids are in his class, that doesn't mean he'll be left alone. Almost every student that walks into the room, instantly locks their eyes onto Blaine's battered face, even the teacher seems surprised, but of course, isn't concerned enough to ask about the injuries. The bell for second period finally rings, and Blaine rushes out of the classroom, only to run into the last person he wants to see. Their shoulders smash together, causing Kurt's books to tumble to the floor and Blaine to wince. Blaine immediately bends down to pick them up. He frantically begins stacking the books as Kurt kneels in front of him. Blaine looks up quickly noticing Kurt's angered expression, frantically he begins apologising.

"Oh, shut up!" Kurt mumbles, "it was just an accid-" his words disappear as he sees Blaine's face. Blaine looks up at his sudden stop in speech, and is shocked by the concern clear in his eyes, and just for a moment he forgets they're broken up, he forgets the pain he's in, and the pain he's caused.

Blaine quickly gives Kurt his books, stands up and heads of to his second class, walking as fast as he can, trying to keep his tears at bay. Kurt's left there, his hands limply holding his books, still stunned he barely notices the single tear slowly making it's way down his porcelain face.

The rest of the day, Blaine's deaf to the world, lost in his thoughts. He can't get Kurt's face out of his head, even though his eyes had shown concern, they were red and tired. The bright eyes Blaine was so used to, were dark and heartbroken, and it was all his fault. As he walks down the hall heading to glee club, he knocks other students as they head home, he hardly notices his mind focused on the possible reactions of the glee club, majority of scenarios ending in some sort of bloodbath.

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"Hey, did you guys see Anderson's face at lunch? Looked like he'd had his face kicked in a few times," Puck laughs lightly.
Most of the glee kids nod in agreement, Santana being the only one angry with Puck's words.

"Asshole deserves it," Finn mutters, "he shouldn't have done that to Kurt, lead him on like that."
"So did you take care of him?" Puck asks, a sly smile on his face.
"What do you mean?" Finn asks, blind as ever.
"Were you the one who kicked his face in?" Puck smiles.
"No! But whoever did, I wouldn't mind giving them a high five," he chuckles, as Kurt walks into the choir room, followed by Blaine.

The room goes silent, most of the teenagers looking from Kurt to Blaine, worried. Except Puck, who's smiling and laughing lightly.
"So, Kurt. Was it you who smashed up Blaine's face?" Puck chuckles, looking to Blaine mockingly.
Kurt walks over to a seat in the corner of the choir room, ignoring Puck and the rest of the club, glancing at Blaine. Blaine looks at the club, the majority of the members glaring at him, or smirking. He walks over to a seat, the furthest from Kurt, trying not to anger him.

Mr.Schue walks into the choir room going on about regional ideas when he notices the silence and everyone staring at Blaine, except Kurt.
"Hey, guys what's going-?" He finally notices Blaine's blue and purple cheek. "What happened to Blaine?"
"He got his face smashed by Hummel" Puck says proudly.
"I didn't touch him Puck, we haven't even spoken," Kurt mumbles clearly irritated.
"I tripped on my guitar case and fell down the stairs, it's no big deal," Blaine mutters, pulling his hood up trying to hide his face.
"O-kay. Anyway, so I was thinking we could do another full on dance number-" Mr.Schue instantly went back to his planning.

Blaine wasn't surprised that no one showed any concern for him, not unless he'd been beaten, but even then they only wanted to know whether Kurt had hit him. He tunes out Mr.Schue's voice and the world around him. He doesn't notice Santana's eyes still trained on him, let alone the fact she's the only person in the room actually concerned about him. She has planned on confronting him again, hoping she could convince him to at least tell Kurt everything he'd told her, after glee club.

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Mr.Schue dismisses the club, and Blaine bolts for the door hoping to escape any questions from Mr.Schue or his so called peers. He manages to escape the room without one glance from anyone, he rushes through the halls desperate to get out of the school and home, AKA his car. He turns a corner and is stopped by a firm hand against his chest. The owner being Santana of course, the smug grin on her face immediately aggravates Blaine.

"You're coming with me," she grabs his shirt pulling him into an empty classroom.
"Look, just 'cause I broke up with Kurt, doesn't mean I actually play for your team," he says smirking, hoping he'd be able to annoy her enough till she'd leave him be.
"Do you want me to slap you?" Her stern tone, makes him only slightly regret his comment, but still he shakes his head and cowers away from her.
"Good, 'cause I need you to do something," she tries smiling warmly, but it comes off manic, making Blaine stare at her slightly afraid.
"What am I doing?" He asks cautiously, stepping toward the door.
"Calm down, Frodo, it's nothing freaky. I need you to tell Kurt everything you told me."
"No! I told you to mind your own business!" He shouts already opening the door.
"No. Please, Blaine you have to! If not for me or for yourself, do it for Kurt!" Her attempt of convincing him is ignored as he steps through the door, but is soon crashing into someone, causing the both to fall to the floor. Blaine lands hard on his back followed by his victim landing flat against his chest. Blaine winces and yelps at the pain that shoots throughout his chest from the fall, his vision blurring from it.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," he hears an all to familiar voice say. He opens his eyes to find ones staring right back at him, they were either eyes or galaxies, Blaine couldn't tell.
"It's…..It's fine," Blaine breathes looking deeper into Kurt's eyes.

Kurt basically jumps off of him, gathering himself, fixing his hair and jacket. Blaine begins getting up, wincing from the pain as his breathe escapes him once again. Kurt offers his hand, trying to act annoyed, but only coming across as shy. Blaine grabs it, accidentally pulling Kurt close as he stands, till he's flush against his chest.

"We seem to keep colliding with each other don't we?" Blaine breathes, smiling as if the past few days weren't real.
"Correction," Kurt says pulling his hand out of Blaine's, "you keep colliding with me."
Blaine's smile falls, and he drops his hand already missing the warmth of Kurt's.
"Sorry," Kurt looks to Blaine's chest slightly staring, "are you…are you okay? It seemed like I hurt you…"
"Ahh-"
"That's 'cause of his bruises. There pretty bad to be honest. You should talk to him about it. And….GO!" Santana cuts in, hoping she'd given Blaine no choice but to explain.

"Wait, don't tell me your screwing Santana?" Kurt says, disbelief in his expression and anger in his voice.
"What?!?! God no! Never, that's just to weird to think about!" Blaine stutters, looking as if he's about to puke.
"But you basically said that you found being gay was disgusting!"
"Wow, you said that?" Santana interjects. "No wonder he's pissed with you!"
"Santana, not really helping!" Blaine mutters, beginning to get aggravated again.
"Right! Look, Kurt he had a reason, a good reason! Just please hear him out." Santana pleads.

Kurt looks at the both of them in disbelief, confused beyond recognition.
"Look, my dad made me choose between you or him and my family. He said if I chose you he'd beat the crap out of me and I'd 'no longer be his son and no longer welcome in his house'. I chose him, only because I was terrified he'd try and find you and hurt you. But when I broke up with you, I couldn't take it. I went home and told my dad I didn't care! So he did what he said he'd do, beat the crap out of me and kicked me out. Please, Kurt I wanna make this right, please…." Blaine looks to Kurt begging every God out there to make Kurt believe him.

Kurt's face scrunches up in confusion and disgust.
"What kind of sick joke is this? For God sakes haven't you made me look enough like a fool for one lifetime, don't fucking lie just so you can fucking hurt me all over again! You sick bastard!" He spits, bumping Blaine's bruised shoulder.
Blaine's stunned for sometime, making Santana worry extremely.

"Look, I'll talk to him, I'll get him to believe you I promise…" She trails off as his eyes darken, chilling her to the core.
"You made me tell him! And he still didn't care at all! I've had my heart broken enough for one lifetime so why don't you FUCKING LISTEN FOR ONCE, and just mind your own FUCKING BUSINESS!" He storms past slamming his fist against a locker, causing Santana to jump back in terror. As he walks away she tries not to notice the tears in her eyes or the urge to run as far away from him as possible.

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Blaine throws his gym bag into the back seat of his car, placing it on the far end of the seat, almost throwing himself in after it. His hands were still throbbing from the pounding they received against lockers and punching bags. He lays on his back seat trying to calm his mind, which only makes more thoughts swim around.

He grabs his pillow from his bag, and begins, basically, smothering himself with it. It doesn't help, it only makes him picture Kurt's disgusted face, it only makes him remember how much he's 'fucked up' recently. *There's no point now! I've lost him completely. The one boy I loved is disgusted with me, and probably wants to smash my face in.*

He throws the pillow at the closed door, the quick movement making his ribs spike with pain. His brow furrows, deciding he should get checked out, there's nothing more that could destroy his world anymore. Now he really has lost everything. He grabs his blankets from the passenger seat and pillow, wrapping the blankets around himself, snuggling into his pillow. He closes his eyes begging his mind to stop and sleep, but he keeps twitching, and feels something strange in his make shift bed. He grabs whatever the invader is and pulls it out, finding it to be a shirt. It's Kurt's, he'd forgotten the night Kurt left his under shirt at his house. It wasn't long before all this had happened, he'd convinced Kurt to stay for the night, considering it was late, his father was away for work, his mother was working late, and to be honest they were both exhausted from their activities barely an hour before.

They held each other all night, whispering their amount of love for each other. God he misses Kurt's arms around him, his warmth, his love. He pulls the shirt to his chest, burying his nose into the material, the smell of Kurt overwhelming him. His eyes begin to water, soon becoming thick heavy tears. He clings to the shirt for the rest of the night, crying himself into a nightmare filled sleep, images of Kurt smirking as Blaine's beaten, mixing with illusions of Kurt lying on the ground screaming in pain. All night the dreams haunt him, waking him, and every time he clutches the shirt just a bit tighter as he cries himself back to sleep, thinking of the boy who holds his, now, broken heart.