Luckily enough it's Thursday so the week will end and he will at least be free of her for the weekend. He heads to glee club the moment he's dismissed, hoping to escape the rush home. He's shoved by some jock hanging with Azimio, sending him straight into the lockers. A lock smashes into his back, making the air leave his lungs as pain courses throughout his body, it causes him to collapse in a wheezing heap on the floor.

"Wimp ass homo," Azimio mutters, high fiving the other jock.

Their smirks make Blaine's blood boil and he desperately wants to beat the crap out of the duo. He sits there as students walk past, most not casting a second glance in his direction. He slowly crawls up the lockers, wincing with every movement, he then basically limps down the hall to the choir room, the pain making him short of breath.

"So you're getting beaten by jocks now?" A pestering voice says from behind him. He turns, a grimace on his face as he finds Santana looking at him seriously.
"What's your point? Pointing out the obvious?" he remarks, wanting to deal with her as quickly as possible.
"My point is, if you try and talk to Kurt again and convince him, maybe the New Directions will help you out. Maybe they won't encourage those beef heads to hurt you." She retorts, becoming angrier.
"And maybe if you would mind your own business and I had a father who actually accepted me, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But hey, we can't always get what we want right?" His eyes take on a shadowy glaze as he awaits her reply.

"If you would just listen-"
"I'm not going to. You know why? Because it's none of your fucking business. I don't want your help, I want you to leave me the fuck alone, but you just can't seem to get it into that thick skull of yours, can you?!" His shouting shakes his still aching rib cage, some students looking in their direction as the hall empties. "Just forget about me!" He yells, wincing as the pain increases. "Everyone else has, so why the hell can't you?" His legs become shaky again as the pain flows all through his chest, the hall almost empty.

"Will you at least see a doctor?" She begs, looking genuinely concerned as he leans on the lockers for support. "You look like you're about to collapse."

"Just leave me alone. I'm fine. Just leave me al-" Another shock of pain surges across his ribs as his voice rises. He yelps and slides down the locker slowly.
"Blaine, you really need to get checked out..." Santana's tone becomes pleading, as she rushes over to him.
"Why the hell do you care?" he breathes, clutching his side.
"Because, you're the greatest guy for Kurt. And you love him. And as soppy as it is, you need each other, Kurt might not be here if it wasn't for you…" She looks to the floor, hoping he doesn't see what she's hiding.

"What do you mean?" He looks to her suspiciously.
She looks around, making sure there was no one to hear them, luckily the hall is basically empty, one or two students still walking.
"I just think if you hadn't become his friend, the constant torment from Karofsky, might have gotten to him eventually. And…maybe he would've stopped fighting. Give in and….end it all. I guess.."

"Is that why you were so scared to come out? Thought you'd get so much crap, that you'd just give up?" She looks up into his pained, tired eyes.
"Didn't you?" His eyes soften and fall to the floor. She wasn't wrong, everyday he thought he'd give in, even now he still did. It would be so easy. He gently stands upright, looking to her one final time, before turning and heading to the choir room. She follows closely, eyeing him worringly.

He walks into the choir room, to be greeted with smirks and glares.
"Did you have trouble with Azimio, Blaine?" Puck sneers, chuckling.
"Why don't you piss off, Puckerman!" Blaine states.
"What did you say butt boy?" Puck's eyes widen as he realises his words, and all eyes turn to him.

"Oh, so it's fine for you to call me a 'butt boy', but when it comes to Kurt it's another story?" Blaine's features darken as he eyes the club.
"It's different, you deserve it." Sam grinds out, looking hardly at Blaine.

He snaps, almost screaming.
"Were both fucking gay! You can call me a bastard or a heartbreaker or an asshole, but for God's sake, don't discriminate me for being gay. You're only doing the exact same to Kurt by showing you take being gay as an insult. I don't give a fuck what you call me, just leave the fact that I'm gay out of it you assholes!"

"Blaine!" Mr. Schue shouts entering the room.
"What the fuck do you want?" He says turning to face Mr.Schue's baffled look.

"Don't use that language! Or you'll get detention!"
"What the fuck does it matter? It's not like you actually care," he turns to the group. "I've got a good idea, why don't you all just leave me the fuck alone, and get on with your lives like I never existed!" He turns and walks to the door, Mr. Schue catching his arm, his face bordering on furious.

"And what do you think you're going to do? Hit me? Wouldn't be the first time nor the last." He shakes his arm free, marching out the room.

He's getting sick of storming out and running out of glee club. He's getting sick of yelling then yelping in pain. He just wants to be left alone. Everyone else seemed to be doing a good job of acting like he didn't exist or matter. So why couldn't Santana and everyone in glee club do it.

He rushes down the corridor heading for the exit, hoping to get out of school before anyone, namely Mr. Schue or Santana, could try to stop him. He storms off toward his car throwing the door open and chucking his bag in, sitting in the drivers seat as he tries to stop his ragged breaths. His vision is becoming blurry from pain, or tears he hasn't noticed, he doesn't know. He sits there breathing slowly his head leaning on the steering wheel, trying to clear his head.

He pulls his head up quickly, telling himself to pull it together, the movement making his head spin, he grips the wheel tightly. Turning the car on, he pulls out of the McKinley parking lot, heading for the other side of town.

**************************************************************************
He arrives at the local park, kids, dogs, and sickening cute couples occupy the area. He grimaces at the couples just reminding him of the fact he's lost his other half, and that he now hates him beyond belief. His eyes are cast back to his steering wheel and dented dashboard, his mind still teaming with horrible memories. He drops his head on the wheel, a whimper escaping him as he thinks back to his father's disgusted face as he beat him. He thinks back to the nights he'd help his sister with homework, tickling her whenever she became particularly annoying, or he'd gotten bored. He remembers, how whenever she had a problem, she'd barge into his room walk over to his bed and basically fall face first into his covers. Eventually he'd annoy her enough till she'd squirm and pout, then mumble her problem, hitting him the moment he started teasing her. He hasn't heard from her since he's said goodbye. He misses their afternoon talks, where they'd both just talk for hours about everything and nothing. A single hot tear falls down his cheek, pulling him out of his reverie and back to his cold, harsh reality. He sighs looking over to the cafe across the street, the Lima Bean, it's been so long since he's been there, the last time being with Kurt. He's been desperate for some caffeine for days, and food. He's been living off chip packets and candy for the past week. His stomach rumbles as he craves his caffeine and muffin hit. He gives in and throws his door open almost knocking a cyclist off his bike.

He walks through the light crowd of dog walkers and families, wincing with every brush of his shoulder, dodging cars as he rushes over the road, his mind still teaming with memories of the good days.

**************************************************************************
The chatter from the patrons of the Lima Bean cause Blaine's head to throb more. He joins the bustling queue pulling his jacket hood up over his head hoping it might help drown out the noise. His eyes scour the cafe, making sure there's no one he knows to hassle him, specifically Santana. Still as much as he denies it, he's searching the cafe for Kurt, he knows that Kurt will hardly look at him, but be doesn't care, he's just hoping to see his beautiful face.

He turns back to the queue, internally scolding himself for thinking about Kurt. Suddenly a heavy hand claps itself onto Blaine's aching shoulder, making him moan in pain.

"Hey dude!" The voice is heavy with sarcasm, "I didn't hit you that hard you loser. Now for some reason you think you can tell me what to do." The culprit states, who just happens to be Noah Puckerman.

"What so you don't think you were out of line back there?" Blaine states, glaring hard right into Puck's eyes.
"Look, maybe I shouldn't have said that. But people make mistakes-"
"What, and you don't think that maybe I made a mistake with breaking up with Kurt?" Blaine interjects, his brow furrowing at Puck's words, waiting for Puck to really step in it.

"No, that's different," Puck says, beginning to get agitated.
"Because, I'm some stupid jerk, and you just fell back into your old ways of being a jerk?"
"No! Dude just stop thinking you're the exception-"
"NO! Your the one who thinks they're the exception! Everyone makes mistakes, but to you, I'm the only one who's mistakes aren't justified." His raised voice turns heads, most patrons watching the two boys as the line moves slowly with them.

Puck opens and closes his mouth having no idea how much he's stepped in it.
"You know what. Just leave me alone! Because clearly I'm less of a human than you or Kurt or anyone with a beating heart." His voice falls to an angered whisper. He turns back to the queue now being at the counter, completely ignoring the looks of the other customers.
"Ass..." He hears Puck mutter from behind his back as he walks off to a corner of the shop.

Blaine orders his usual, adding a gigantic chocolate muffin to it, when he spots Kurt sitting in the direction Puck walked over to. His head's down, almost buried in his coffee, clearly not interested in whatever Rachel or the rest of the group's talking about. He looks to Kurt's hands, which are gripping his bag strap unbelievably tight. His knuckles are white and he's clearly on the edge of breaking out into a screaming match, which right now, he'd clearly win.

Blaine's pulled out of his thoughts by the barista calling his name and handing him his coffee and muffin.

**************************************************************************
The moment Kurt hears the name his heart falls to the pit of his stomach. His face instantly becoming pale and his mouth going dry. Unfortunately, Rachel catches onto Kurt's reaction, immediately becoming the protective girlfriend.

"Do you want me to tell him to leave?" She asks, scooting closer to him on the couch.
"It's a free country, he's allowed to be here," Kurt mumbles, hoping Rachel will drop it.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." She jumps up, storming over to where Blaine's adding sugar to his coffee. Kurt looks to her, his eyes wide, whispering her name frantically. She taps Blaine's shoulder, putting her stern/angry facade on as he turns to face her.

"Hi," he says eyeing her cautiously, "can I help you?"
"Leave Kurt alone!" She spits, glaring at him.
"I haven't done anything-"
"Why don't you just get lost? No one wants you here, not after what you did to Kurt." Rachel interjects, her eyes beginning to blaze, Blaine looking completely baffled.

"And nice try making him forgive you. It was a complete bullshit story, you're an idiot to think Kurt would believe you." Rachel see's Blaine's eyes begin to glass over, the confusion soon being replaced with heartbreak.

"Right..." his eyes fall to the floor, Rachel just making out a small wobble of his lip. "I guess I should get going."
"Yep! And you should probably find a new coffee shop and school, because I swear, after what you did to Kurt, no one in glee will accept you, which pretty much means no one in the entire school will accept you!" With that she turns around sharply making her way back over to the group.

What she doesn't hear is Blaine mumbling, "no one else does why should any of you?" Nor the completely shattered look that is plastered on his face, as he looks around skittishly, before leaving abruptly. She sits down in her original seat, giving Kurt a sly smile, but only receives a small glance from him as he re-trains his eyes on Blaine.

The sight almost breaks his heart, he's never seen anyone look as broken and hopeless as Blaine had mere seconds ago. And just for one moment, he really did believe that what Blaine had told him was the truth, for one second, he wanted to rush over, and wrap his arms around the poor defeated boy he once loved. No, still loves, but he quickly remembers that his love is not returned, and instantly goes back to despising the one boy who still holds his broken heart.

**************************************************************************
Santana watches as Blaine drags himself out of the coffee shop, completely defeated. She walks over to Puck, tapping his shoulder.
"What?" He mumbles his mouth full of chocolate muffin.
"I need you to stick around here. I'm worried about Blaine…"
"Why the hell are you worried about that asshole?!" He says, spitting muffin everywhere.
"It's none of your business, just stay with me. I need a car and you're the only person who would even consider doing this for me."
He swallows his muffin, looking at her quizzically.
"Why wouldn't anyone else help you?" He mutters, absolutely oblivious.
"Because," she breathes, "everyone is hating Blaine like he's killed puppies, and no one will hear him out, so they have no idea what he's really going through. So he's all alone and…." She stops her scrambled rant, only just noticing how much Blaine really does need her.
"So he's alone and, to be honest I'm scared of what he might do," she looks sternly at Puck, hoping her threatening gaze will make him cave and do what she says.
"Like what?" He says, completely blind.
"Really?! You have no idea as to what I might be referring to!" He shakes his head, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy.
"I don't know, um…maybe hurt himself!" His face doesn't change, "SUICIDE YOU IDIOT!!!" Patrons look to her, her whispered shout, more shout than whisper.
"Oh! Yeah, totally, I knew that….I…" He stutters.
"Yeah, so someone needs to help him, because all this torment we're giving him, might just push him over the edge, so are you going to help?" Puck looks down shamefully, for once actually listening to Santana, he nods his head.
"Good all we have to do is to stick around here and watch him, if he moves we follow. Okay?" She whispers to him slowly.
"Like badass spies right?" He says giddily.
She rolls her eyes, I'm dealing with a toddler.
"Whatever.." His eyes brighten as does his smile as they sit, Santana's gaze trained on Blaine in his car, him more beaten than she'd ever seen.

**************************************************************************
His blood is pumping hard throughout his body, pounding in his ears, blurring his vision. He legs are on fire, he has no idea how long he's been running, he only knows that the moment he heard Kurt cry out, he ran. Searching frantically for the boy suffering somewhere. Suddenly echoes of Lilly screaming his name collide with Kurt's cries, Blaine stops, his eyes frantically searching the darkness for them both. Screaming out their names, begging them to answer. Something shifts in the dark, Blaine begins to panic even more, madly searching for whatever the predator might be. He closes his eyes breathing heavily, within seconds he opens them, his father's smirking gaze greeting him-

He wakes, grasping his chest as his breath leaves him, his vision blurring as he spins his head around to make sure his father isn't present. His breathing slows as he begins to realise it was just a nightmare, again, he rubs the back of his neck, the position he'd been sleeping giving him a crick in his neck. The sky is black, the street lanterns being the only thing giving off light, he looks to the now empty park, his mind replaying memories of his sister and him messing around, and memories of Kurt and him laughing and cuddling behind the trees. He drops his head onto the steering wheel, moaning in frustration, he promised himself he wasn't going to let what happened in the coffee shop get to him, yet here he is, thinking of the better days all over again.

He sighs, unbuckling his seatbelt as he grabs his messenger bag and hops out of the car. He crosses through the park, heading to the lake in the centre, buried behind the trees. His feet dragging across the grass as he walks, his head down and tears still pooling in his eyes. Today was unbelievably emotionally draining, he was reminded of every little thing he's done wrong for the past few weeks, everyone he's lost. He stops by the edge of the lake, looking out to the shimmering water, the moonlight reflecting off the water lighting up the trees by the bank. He sits, throwing his bag to the ground, his mind wandering back to a conversation between Kurt and him. They were sitting in this exact spot, talking about how beautiful it was, Kurt had mentioned something about Finn and Rachel coming to the park at night, Rachel had said it was amazing. Kurt thought Blaine and him should try it, another one of his romantic ideas, that he insisted was silly, when in truth, Blaine found it adorable and it made him think of Kurt as the best boyfriend in the world. He smiles at the memory, a single tear running down his cheek as the smile turns into a wince, the memory still causing a painful pang in his heart.

He rummages through his bag, searching for his ipod, the silence around him making his memories blare louder, desperate to be heard, desperate to hurt him all over again. He grabs the device, searching the songs for one in particular, he presses play, turning the volume up on the small speakers.

He smiles as he remembers Tina saying he should listen to more Florence and The Machine, he always thought her lyrics were moving, and they had never been so relevant as they had now.

*Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.*

He looks to the lake, thinking how easy it would be to sink into the dark waters and never surface, how better off everyone would be.

*And it's peaceful in the deep,
Cathedral where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under.*

He begins to slowly walk into the water, ignoring the cold and letting it slowly consume him, letting it rise to his chest.

*And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,
Found the place to rest my head.

Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.*

He pulls his head under, the cold burning against his bruises, he resurfaces quickly, his heart pounding and his head aching. He can't tell whether or not he's crying or his hair is dripping, the shaky sobs are what get him, for days he's been numb, blind to the pain he knew was there, and only now does he break.

*And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,
And all this devotion was rushing out of me,
And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,
The arms of the ocean deliver me.

Though the pressure's hard to take,
It's the only way I can escape,
It seems a heavy choice to make,
Now I am under.*

He turns facing the bank, looking at his bag, one of the few things he still owns. The images of his father's disgusted face collide with illusions of his sister and Kurt turning against him, completely disgusted with his existent, causing another hot tear to run down his pink cheeks. His lip wobbles remembering how heartbroken Kurt was, and how much he hated the look Kurt had given him when he'd told him everything.

*And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles down to the sea bed,
Found the place to rest my head.

Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.*

The water still stings his blackened ribs, as the cold pierces his skin. He looks to the dark water that's at his chest, his bruised reflection accompanying the shimmering moonlight that falls on the water. Another tear drops from his cheek and into the water, disturbing the calm. He pulls his head up, looking to the dark night sky, he focuses on the full moon the light spiking through the dark clouds. He closes his eyes and falls backward into the dark, letting it consume him.

*And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,
And all this devotion was rushing out of me,
And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,
The arms of the ocean deliver me.

And it's over,
And I'm going under,
But I'm not giving up!
I'm just giving in.*

He opens his eyes, the cold stinging them, as he looks to the faint moonlight shining through the water. He really isn't giving up, he did what he could, he's just giving in and letting the inevitable happen. It was only a matter of time till he went back into the deep desolate mindset he's been slowly falling into, just as before. Only now, he's not sure if he wants to resurface and face his miserable life.

*Oh, slipping underneath.
Oh, so cold, but so sweet.

In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold,
And all this devotion I never knew at all,
And the crashes are Heaven, for a sinner released,
And the arms of the ocean,
Deliver me.

Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.

Deliver me.*

His vision begins to blur, his breathe becoming difficult to hold, images of Kurt's loving face falling into his sight. His mind slowing down as he accepts his fate as his own choice, he knows this is what's best for everyone.

*Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.

And it's over,
And I'm goin' under,
But I'm not givin' up!
I'm just givin' in.

Oh, slipping underneath.
Oh, so cold, but so sweet*

His eyes fully close, the darkness slowly consuming him as he lets the water rush into his mouth and lungs, sealing his demise.

**************************************************************************
10 minutes earlier…..

The coffee shop's been closed for hours now, the sky dark and starry. Puck's been complaining for a straight 20 minutes, making up reasons he should be home, or at a party, or in some girl's bed, Santana had stopped listening after 3 minutes, just nodding her head and saying "just remember your doing it for Blaine. He needs us," but of course that didn't shut him up. Then he says something that instantly sends Santana into a rage.
"He hurt Kurt. He deserves everything he gets, the moment I meet the guy who pounded him one, I'll thank him." He mutters, looking over to where Blaine's asleep in his car.
Santana turns to face Puck, her eyes burning with anger.
"Really?! Well I guess you're going to need to know who he is! He's Blaine's father!" Puck's head turns his eyes widening a little. "Yep, he found out he was dating Kurt and said he had to choose between being who he is and loving Kurt, or lying about who he is and dumping Kurt!"
"Well, he should of chose Kurt!" He retorts, his cockiness returning.
"He did! That's the whole reason he was beaten to a pulp!" His face falls, Santana fuming. "His dad beat him because he fell in love with Kurt and couldn't give him up. So you tell me if he really deserves all that?"
Puck bows his head shamefully, regret beginning to fill him.
Santana looks back over to Blaine's car, Blaine no longer occupying it.
"Where'd he go?!" She looks around frantically, trying to find Blaine hidden in the trees.
She grabs Puck's arm,"come on, we gotta find him." She says as she drags Puck across the street, heading into the trees of the park.

**************************************************************************
They walk through the trees, coming into a small clearing merging into the bank of the lake. A messenger bag, and an ipod the only thing occupying the area. Santana looks out to the dark shimmering waters, just making out someone disappearing into the cold abyss. She looks to the bag, the only person who could own it and be here, is Blaine. She finally realises that it was Blaine who just fell into the water. Her eyes widen, quickly turning to Puck, dragging him to the waters edge, almost about to throw him in.
"Hey..Hey! What the hell?!" He stutters, trying to pull out of her grip.
"Blaine! He's….he…I think he's in there," she points to where he disappeared. "GO! He could be dead!"
Puck begins ripping his jacket off, storming into the water, still a little unsure as to Santana's statement.
He dives down, the water chilling him to the bone.
He desperately searches the pitch black waters, looking for Blaine.

**************************************************************************
It's not long till he's being pulled up out of the water and dragged to shore, completely unconscious. Santana starts shoving Puck away, readying herself to perform mouth to mouth. She begins to lower her lips to Blaine's, grimacing slightly. His eyes suddenly open, widening at Santana. He pushes her away, coughing up water, and gagging from the thought of Santana kissing him.

"You're such an idiot!!! What the hell do you think you were doing?!" Santana shrieks, hitting his chest.
He yelps, still coughing. "I..I was…just, going for a-a s-swim." The cold making him stutter. He hopes she buys the lie, but her face clearly tells him otherwise.
"Oh yeah sure! That's it! I'm taking you to the hospital right now!" She begins hauling him up, causing him to scream louder as the movement sends burning pain across his chest. She instructs Puck to help her, the cold causing him to shiver and again look like some lost puppy.
Blaine pushes the both of them away, sitting up, trying to regain his breath.
"You need to see a doctor!" Santana states, still trying to pull him up by his soaking jacket. He brushes her off, gently standing, each movement striking pain all over his body, grabbing his iPod and messenger bag.

He's basically escorted to his car, Santana's hand tightly clutching his arm, as if he'll somehow vanish or run off if she lets go. Santana takes Blaine's car, essentially shoving Blaine into the passenger seat, Puck taking his own car and meeting them at the hospital. The wait in the waiting room is excruciating, Blaine's shivering and Santana's bickering on about how stupid Blaine is.
"Blaine Anderson," a nurse calls, Blaine pretty much lunges toward the exam room, eager to get away from Santana, unfortunately she follows. He sits on the exam table, swinging his legs slightly, his head still pounding from the cold.

"Of course you're in here, again. Didn't I say I never wanted to see you in the emergency room again, loser?" A voice from behind Blaine states, sighing. He turns to find the doctor, Claire Mulligan, the last doctor he wanted. Her hair's more black than he's ever seen, streaks of blonde flashing into sight, her eyes still piercing him just the same as when he was here after the Sadie Hawkins dance.
"What have you done this time?" She says, walking over to him, a smirk on her face.
"He was beaten by his dad because he loves a boy named Kurt, and his idiotic father couldn't freaking accept it so he beat the crap out of him and kicked him out." Blaine looks to Santana, clearly irritated. "What? I was just getting it out of the way," she shrugs looking to Claire, who's smirk has grown. It actually kind of reminds him of Sebastian's meerkat face, only difference is her black wavy hair, and she actually has a heart, even if half the time she's annoying as all hell.

"You're kidding! Richard did that to you?" Claire looks to Blaine, concern in her eyes. She's always been so protective of him, always seemed as if she was his older sister, when in truth she used to baby sit him in the hospital when his Mom worked late.
"Yes, now can you just freaking make sure I'll live?" He mutters, still shivering, his eyes focused on the floor.
Claire, whispers to Santana, asking her to wait outside, saying she'll make sure he's okay.

Once Santana leaves the room, Claire advances on Blaine, smacking his wet head as she walks past.
"Ow.." He whines, looking like a kicked puppy.
"What the hell happened? You're soaking wet! What did you do?" She whispers, glaring at him.
"I sort of…took a stroll……into a lake," he mumbles, his eyes still not looking to hers.
"You didn't?" He nods, still looking to the floor. "Oh my God! You're not are you…tell me you're not falling back into your old habits?"
"No, I just…. Look can you just check my bruises so I can go?" He says, sighing.
She still see's him as the poor beaten boy who only wanted to go to a dance with his friend. To be honest she's always seen him as a poor beaten boy, whether it be physical or emotional, he never seemed happy. She grabs his jacket, tugging it off harshly, Blaine yelping as she does so. She's gentler as she starts unbuttoning his dripping shit, his deeply bruised chest being exposed.

She gasps, as she sees the full extent of Blaine's injuries, his entire chest has a blue tinge to it from the cold, his left side black and purple, his chest shaking as he breathes. It almost seems worse than what the dance had done to him. She gently touches his ribs, making him flinch and moan, his eyes glaring at her.
"I'm going to have to poke and prod you to figure out what's wrong with you, okay? Stop being such a baby, you loser." She says sternly.
"I'm not a baby, nerd," he mumbles, pouting. They'd always been like this, teasing each other. Even with the age difference, and the fact that the only reason they even know each other is because Claire works with his Mom, and he'd always been stuck in the hospital waiting for her shifts to finish. She shakes her head as she goes back to examining him, each touch making him wince. From what she can tell, Blaine's injuries won't need any surgery, or hospital time, none the less, they'll be excruciating.

"Well, I don't think it's anything really serious, you're not going to need surgery, but it's pretty bad," Claire's face slowly becomes serious, "you've got a fair few bruised ribs, and I'm going to need to have a good look at your arm, those cuts could be infected." Blaine just looks at Claire, completely baffled, "so what do I do?" His voice is small as he looks to Claire, he looks 10 years old all over again, scared of the bullies that might find him, she never thought she'd see him like that again, then again, she never thought the bully he'd be running from was his own father.

"I'm going to prescribe you some pain killers for your ribs, they should help with the pain, but they might make you a bit drowsy. I'll check out your arm and if it is infected, I'll give you some antibiotics, but there is a downside to this plan," his eyes widen as he sits straighter, "I can't give you the pain killers unless you have an adult monitoring you for at least the first two days of you taking them."
Blaine's face falls, his head falling into his hands. Claire sits by him her hand on his cold back, the care in her eyes making Blaine slightly uneasy.
"I can bend the rules for you just a little," he perks up looking to her eagerly, "you need an adult to supervise you, but they can just check on you once a day for two days, okay?" He nods, looking to his hands, a small tear falling from his eye. Her grip on him tightens, his shattered look breaking her heart. She misses the days when the worst thing that would happen to him was some bully pushing him over or being mean, when all he needed was a little fun with her to cheer him up, as they waited for his Mom to finish her shift.

"Now, you won't need surgery for any of that, but maybe once your mother's finished with you, you will," Blaine stiffens as he looks to the door, his mother scowling at him. He cowers before her gaze, honestly scared.
"And what the hell have you been doing mister?" She places her hand on her hip, a clean set of clothes in the other, her black hair tightly pulled back, making her seem even more scary. Her gaze never leaves Blaine, he shrugs, fidgeting.
"I've been trying to call you for days!" Blaine's brow furrows, having no idea as to what she's on about.
"I bet you forgot to charge it right? God, your so stupid some days," his eyes instantly fall to the floor, his mother rushes over, sitting by him and wrapping her arm around him.
"I've been worried sick. And so has your sister," Claire walks around the bed, whispering to Blaine's mother, Blaine just making out the words 'bruised' and 'why would Richard do this?' He pouts, he always hated it when they talked about him when he was in the room.

She waves Claire away, her eyes still focused on Blaine, looking so small.
"Look, it's all going to be okay sweetheart. I'm not going to abandon you, or hate you," Blaine opens his mouth to protest, but his mother's too quick, "and don't say you don't think that, because I know you. You always think the worst of people, and I know why," Blaine shifts in his seat, the cold still making him shake, her caring eyes never leaving him.
"I know that you're scared to get close to anyone," he shakes his head, rolling his eyes, " you keep thinking that I don't notice, but I do. I'm your mother for God's sake, I know everything!" She smiles, pulling him closer. "You don't need to be scared, at least not of me. Now, get your shirt on, you look like death."

"Love you too, Mom," he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as he stands. His mother begins walking over to the doorway, Claire waiting for her, their hushed tones, not as silent as they believe.
"So? Why the hell did Richard do this?" Claire whispers desperately.
"Look, Claire, I told you I don't know what's going on in his head. He…he just found out about Kurt and snapped. I've been trying to figure something out to give Blaine some place to stay, but he'll find out. And to be honest….I don't know what he might do."
"Katie, you need to leave him-"
"No, not to me. To Blaine." Both of the females heads turn toward Blaine, still oblivious to the fact that he can hear them.
"Look, could you make sure he has to come in for weekly check ups? It's the only way I can really keep an eye on him without Richard knowing." Claire nods, rubbing Katie's shoulder, as they both turn back to Blaine, now wearing a dark t-shirt, and waiting silently for them both.

Claire's the first to walk in the room, planting on a fake smile.
"Right, let's check out your arm."

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He's basically dragging himself out the emergency room once they're done, his arm only needing a couple of stitches. He's clearly tired from the poking and prodding, and Claire's stupid comments and stupid face and-
"Now, Blaine we need to talk to you." Claire interrupts his thoughts, her sad eyes concerning Blaine.
His mother slowly walks over to him, grabbing his hand and placing something in it. He looks down to find a fair sum of money in his palm, his mother gently rubbing the back of his hand.
"What's this for?" He looks to her, looking small as ever.
"You need something to look after yourself, there's at least $100. It should last you the week, and this," she holds out a piece of paper, "is where you're staying, it's a hotel, but I can only afford Friday and the weekend. I had to pay in cash because your father would find out and-"
"Mom, it's okay. I get it. Thank you." He pulls her in for a hug, feeling her tears fall on his shirt.
"Just call me, okay? Don't think I'm not here for you. I'll always love you sweetheart, and so will your sister. Just-" She sighs, her voice wavering, Blaine's own eyes beginning to water, she pulls him back looking into his eyes. "Just please call us sweetheart?" He nods, his lip trembling as his tears begin to cascade down his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, pressing her nose into his hair as she finally pushes him away. Looking into his eyes one last time, catching the tears from his cheeks, she turns away, walking back into the hospital, not daring to turn back for one last look.

Blaine looks over to the parking lot, catching sight of Puck and Santana, waiting impatiently. He begins hauling himself over to them, his head down, tears still staining his cheeks. He walks into someone, mumbling an apology, beginning to walk around the stranger, when they grab his arm and pull him to their chest, wrapping their arms around him tightly. He stands there frozen, completely bemused, tempted to return the hug, but then thinking better of it.
"I'm sorry for being such an ass. No one deserves to get their face kicked in, no matter what they do. Except maybe your Dad," the mysterious hugger says. His voice is what make Blaine realise that this hugger is no stranger, but Puck. He pushes him back looking into Puck's, surprisingly, teary eyes, and pats his shoulder, an awkward smile forming on his face. Puck just pulls him in for another bone crushing hug, whispering "dude, I know what it's like to have a deadbeat Dad. And even though I never really knew him, it doesn't mean he didn't screw up my life. So I get it sorta…" He trails off, still gripping Blaine tightly. Eventually Santana, pats Puck's shoulder, freeing Blaine as she pulls him off. They both smile at each other, a mutual understanding established.

"Okay, come on love birds, we gotta get Blaine to his hotel," Blaine turns to her, confused as to how she knows about the conversation he'd only just had with his mother. "Your Mom, told me. She wanted to make sure you actually got there. Plus since I'm eighteen, I get the pleasure of checking up on you for the next 2 days." She smiles tightly, Blaine's features softening.

They head for their cars, Santana sticking with Blaine to make sure he actually goes to the hotel, the entire ride she nags him about how she was right and that he really did need a check up, and for once in a long time, he honestly smiles.

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The room's small, the bed taking up most of the space, with a small TV mounted on the wall and a closet, bolted to the wall. It's clearly not a 5 star hotel, most likely barely passes health and safety, but it's warm and so much better than the back seat of a car.

"Right, so am I getting your bags or…?" Puck looks around the room, shifting uncomfortably. Santana waves him out the room to get Blaine's bags, Blaine throwing his keys to Puck as she surveys the room.
"Well, at least it has heating…" She mutters, looking to Blaine awkwardly, as she awaits his reaction.
"Yeah, beats a hard car seat…" His eyes fall around the room, never focusing on one spot.
She turns toward the door, sighing, thinking he's closed himself off from her, once again.
"Thank you, Santana," she stops, unsure if she heard right. "I know I haven't really been grateful for what you've done for me, but I am. I just…" Santana slowly turns to find Blaine almost in tears, his head facing the ground. "I didn't believe you actually cared, because so many people have screwed me over like that, making me believe I was accepted, then humiliating me, or beating the crap out of me." He grits his teeth, trying to keep calm, as he basically bares his soul. "No one's ever, actually stayed with me, I guess. Other than my Mom and sister…." His cheeks are wet with his tears now. "No one has ever tried to help me, not like you, no one cared…" His voice cracks throughout the sentence as he holds back sobs. "So…." He breathes in, hoping to regain himself, "thank you, Santana. I don't really know where I'd be without you, or if I'd even actually be here…" His tears still cascading down his cheeks, sobs escaping him.

Santana rushes over to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, as she too breaks down into tears. "You're welcome," she sniffles, causing a small laugh to escape Blaine as he buries his head into her shoulder.

"So, you both straight now?" Puck asks from the door, bags in hand.
"No! He needed a hug," she looks to Puck, clearly frustrated with him interrupting. He just shrugs and drops the luggage by the bed, walking over to Blaine, giving his shoulder a squeeze as a sign of goodbye while handing him his keys. He leaves the room, muttering things about Santana's annoyance abilities.
"He's not going to say anything is he?" Blaine asks, panic lacing his words.
"No, he's fine. He said he'd help you, anything you need. And him and I are going to look for jobs for you. You can't live off a hundred dollars a week and a stingy hotel for the weekends, considering I doubt you're planning on going back home."
"I'll be fine-"
"No, you won't. You need something permanent Blaine, a place you can call your home, and not your car!"
"Like what?"
"An apartment, you get a job and you could help pay your Mom with rent and food and other bills. You need a home." The sincerity in her voice still shocks Blaine, he's never really thought this would ever be a permanent thing, he's never thought he'd never go home again, but Santana was right. He had no choice, his father wasn't going to let him come home, not unless he became straight, which is impossible.
He nods his head at her, a smile appearing on her face as she hugs him one last time, before leaving with a final wave, closing the door.

He breathes, trying to let the night's events fully set in, another tear beginning to form in his eye as he tries to keep his heart steady. He rushes over to his bags, searching through the three of them trying to find his pyjamas. He just wants to fall asleep and forget this panic he's feeling, he grabs his pants throwing them on the bed as he begins to almost tear his clothes off, his head starting to pound just a little. He dresses quickly, wearing his pants and a tank top, shutting of the light he almost dives onto the bed, his body still aching and shivering. He crawls under the covers, burying his head into the pillow, slowly breathing, his eyes closed trying to keep the tears at bay. Images of Kurt, Lilly, and his Father keep flashing in his mind, he groans flipping onto his back, staring at the celling.

He looks to his bags, his eyes catching on a t-shirt hanging out of one of them. The same shirt he's been sleeping with to drown out the nightmares, and even though it may be beginning to smell more like him than the owner, it still the closest thing Blaine has to comfort, the closest thing he has to Kurt. He jumps out of bed, grabbing it and pulling it tightly to his chest, inhaling the lingering smell of Kurt. He walks back over to his bed, his face buried into the soft fabric. Crawling into bed he snuggles the garment, closing his eyes, hoping for at least for tonight his terrorising dreams would subside. If only for the night, he hopes he will dream of the boy he loves, happy, and warm in his arms.