He walked down the hallway and sighed. The school looked the same but different at the same time. It wasn’t unusual, as Carole had told him, to feel like things were different, to see things in a different light. Now he could see potential evil around every corner, even the brush of air along the back of his neck made him stiffen and in every person he saw, he saw another person who could harm him.

It had been a week since Kurt had left for New York and things hadn’t gotten any better. He missed the other man. He missed the way he looked at him, the way he spoke to him, those soft lips forming the syllables that made up his name. He’d lain naked on their bed the night before Kurt left in an effort to show Kurt he wasn’t as damaged as everyone said. Kurt hadn’t made love to him since Blaine had seen him when he’d visited last, a couple of weekends before the Thanksgiving trip that went so wrong.

Kurt had smiled lovingly at him, kissed him, stripped as Blaine watched hungrily and kissed every inch of his skin, making love to him soft and slow in ways Blaine craved and needed and softer than he felt his damaged soul needed.

It had been enough, and yet nothing at all. He needed more.

The other students were wary around him now. He was mostly left alone, even by those he knew could, and would’ve used it to bully and intimidate him but he’d heard from overheard whispers as he listened in the hallway at home between Kurt, Burt and Finn; the school had been slapped with a threat that if any kid laid a finger on Blaine that one way or another the school would pay.

He should feel grateful, happy that they loved him. It just made him feel more of a freak than before.

Glee club was horrible. His friends looked at him differently, with sad eyes like they wanted to hug him but they couldn’t and their hands and fingers and arms couldn’t understand why when he watched them tremble and flap uselessly at the others’ sides. He won solos he didn’t want, gained praise he didn’t deserve and was alternately asked to portray how he felt and then looked at as if they couldn’t understand his words.

He’d dropped out of all of his other extracurricular clubs on his first day back. He’d sat down with Kurt and discussed his options. He’d already applied to New York universities and a few in California after Mr Schue had gone on and on about how New York bred Broadway stars and L.A bred pop stars, and Blaine was a pop star, not a Broadway star. He’d never wanted the stage, the makeup, the songs about defying gravity and flying cars. He was Katy Perry, Pink; he dressed like a hipster and talked like a poster boy for pop culture.

Kurt had been understanding and told him whatever he chose, they’d deal with it.

He’d joined the other clubs to feel less alone without Kurt but now he couldn’t stand to be around other people. His friends, he could tolerate, his and Kurt’s family he ached to be around, but others; he just wanted to run away.

It would take time, that’s what they all said. It would take time and understanding and patience from everyone else and a lot of confidence and determination from Blaine but as he walked through the door and into the choir room he was at a loss to all of it. He just wanted to go home, or run all the way to New York and Kurt’s warm, safe arms.

Blaine walked into the room and smiled slightly at his friends. Most waved or smiled and Finn gave him a grin from where he was sat behind the drums.

It all happened so fast.

Blaine didn’t see Sam coming towards him from the side, his arms opened wide to hug him and neither teen saw Finn start to get up and warn Sam or call out but suddenly Sam’s arms were around him, hugging him around the neck in a friendly move they’d all seen a thousand times but today, they all froze.

“Blaine.” Sam called and walked over; forgetting about Kurt’s warning for a second and wrapped his arms around the other teen, hugging him.

Blaine froze, his blood level rising as it boiled, rage clouding his vision as white noise filled his head, his brain screeching the words his father last spoke to him as his fingers wrapped around his throat.

Sam let out a cry as Blaine’s face turned red, his eyes cold and he shoved him backwards, Sam’s arms went back to cushion himself and felt the shake of bone as he impacted the hard floor. He quickly shielded himself as Blaine grabbed a chair and threw it across the room, the legs disconnecting and flying through the air, landing near Artie and Mr Schue.

Finn raced over and grabbed hold of Blaine, pinning his arms to his sides and let him kick and wrestle until he passed out.

“Blaine?” Mr Schue’s soft voice called out to him as he regained consciousness.

Blaine blinked and held his head as he sat up. “What happened? Where am I?”

Mr Schue smiled sadly at him and Blaine looked around, surprised to see himself in the waiting room outside of Principal Figgins office. Finn and Burt were inside. “Do you remember what happened?” Mr Schue asked and Blaine shook his head. “Sam hugged you. You pushed him over and threw a chair across the room.”

Blaine’s eyes widened and his head buzzed. Sam. Sam hugged him. All he could feel was the pressure around his neck. “He hugged my neck.” Blaine said brokenly and Mr Schue nodded. They both looked over as the voices rose in the office and Burt was shouting at the principal, looking enraged. “What’s going to happen?” Blaine asked but Mr Schue had no time to answer before Burt wrenched the door open, grabbed Blaine’s bag and steered him out of the waiting room and down the hallway, muttering under his breath about ‘this damn place never changes’ the whole way.

Blaine didn’t speak a word until they got home. Sitting in the driveway Burt’s breathing slowed and Finn, who had been looking out of the window deep in thought, looked back at Blaine sadly. “What happened?” Blaine ask quietly and Burt raised his fist to smack the steering wheel then let it drop to softly rest on the leather.

“You’re suspended.” He said simply and unlocked his seatbelt, the the door open and walked down the path.

“C-can they do that?” Blaine asked.

Finn sighed and got out. He opened the door for Blaine and undid his seatbelt. “Yeah they can dude. Destruction of property and physical violence on another student is, like, they could kick you out. Figgins is meeting with the school board and stuff to work out stuff but he said you might have to leave school. Do you remember what happened to Kurt with Karofsky? It’s like this but a million times worse.”

Blaine stared at him, his jaw swinging open. “But he hugged my neck. Don’t they care?”

Finn shook his head sadly. “No, they don’t dude. Sorry.”

Blaine blinked and walked silently up the stairs. He dropped his bag in the closet and stripped, taking out some of Kurt’s clothes and put them on then laid down on the bed.

Hours later Burt stood at the door, listening to the heaving sobs emanating from the room, the door locked tight. “What do I do with that kid?” He whispered to Carole.

Carole shrugged, placing her hand on the wood of the door and hoping some of the love and reassurance she felt passed through it to the young, broken man on the other side. “Just be the dad his father never was. Kurt needs to know though.”

Burt choked out a laugh. “Yeah and I’ll come to you for patching up when he skins me and uses me for his next fashion statement.”

“Oh honey,” Carole said, amused. “I think you’d look adorable as a suit vest.”

Burt shuddered and put his arm around his wife, walking down the stairs with her. “Maybe, but I like my skin.”

The teen laid inside the room, listening to their exchange and the retreating footsteps, the squeak of the stairs as they descended and sighed. He ran his fingers over the picture of himself and Kurt and a tear slipped down his cheek. “I wish you were here, then things would make sense.” He whispered to the smiling faces of himself and his soul mate. He let his eyes close and mind drift away to summer days of the past where new love blossomed deep and steady and enduring love grew strong and passionate among the flowers.