Chapter 11

Puck and Blaine were huddled on the floor around the small TV in Finn's room, watching as another shot was fired and then James Bond was dashing from an oil drum as an explosion lit up the screen.

"Dude!"

Puck gave Blaine a high-five.

"I know man, it's awesome."

The door opened and the two boys hissed when a bit of light entered the room. The door shut and once their eyes adjusted back to the darkness they could make out Finn walking over to them, snacks and drinks in hand.

"What did I miss?"

He plopped down on the bed as Puck and Blaine stared at each other, unable to describe the pure awesomeness that had just, literally, exploded across the screen.

The boys then sat in silence, mesmerized by the action in front of them and completely unaware of anything else. They had won one of the toughest games of the season and had finally given Karofsky what he'd deserved for so long. Everything in the universe seemed so right, so what could possibly be wrong?

Blaine's mind snapped away from the movie in sudden realization.

"Hey, what time is it?"

Finn stared at his watch, angling it this way and that, trying to catch some of the light from the TV so he could read the numbers.

"Uhhh, it's, uhh I think it's"

"Dude."

Puck interrupted Finn's pointless search for light as he dangled his cell phone for Finn to see.

"Oh, right. Phone."

Puck looked down at his phone and read off the time.

"It's eleven thirty-eight. Why? You gotta go home?"

Blaine shook his head, barely visible in the dim room.

"No, my parents are out of town. I'm just thinking, shouldn't Kurt have been home by now?"

Finn waved a hand at Blaine, now focused on the screen as he replied.

"He probably went over Rachel's or something-"

There was a loud bang as the front door slammed closed. Blaine and Finn stared at each other for a second, their faces dropping as they realized who it probably was. Finn scrambled to grab the remote and paused the movie before cautiously calling out,

"Kurt?"

The only answer he received were quick, pounding footsteps storming up the staircase. The guys shared a quick worried glance before jumping to their feet and rushing out of the room, Finn leading the way.

"Yo, Kurt are you- Oh my god! Kurt!"

Blaine felt his stomach twist into knots and he almost wanted to heave when battered boy turned to face them.

He was standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the banister looking utterly broken. He wasn't standing straight, a bit slumped over as he held his left arm close to his chest, avoiding any movement in his shoulder. There was a nasty, purplish bruise forming on his swollen jaw and a bit of blood had dried where it had dripped down his forehead.

He looked like death, his eyes drooping and every part of him looking spent of every bit of energy. It seemed like it had taken a great amount of sheer will to just stand there and not slump to the ground. Kurt glanced up at them with weary eyes, no emotion showing through the once joyous blue pools.

Finn immediately took a step towards him.

"Kurt. W- What happened?"

Kurt drew back, careful not to jostle his injured arm, suddenly defensive when Finn began to invade his personal space.

"Get the hell away from me."

Blaine looked at Kurt with pleading eyes, but Kurt just shot back daggers.

Finn noticed the small exchange and took a small step back, he spoke softly but his voice was underlined with fury.

"Did Karofsky do this to you?"

Kurt stepped forward, grimacing as he did so, but still bristling with the beginnings of what was sure to be a furious case of rage.

"It's not your business, Finn. None of this was. Just leave me alone!"

Finn was tired of people telling him that this wasn't any of his business and it showed when he drew himself to his full height, using it as a sort of power over Kurt who was still slumping against the banister of the stairs.

"You're my brother so it is my business. We're talking about this right now!"

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You just think you can do whatever the hell you want, don't you?"

"Kurt, you need to talk about this."

"C'mon, dude, we're just trying to help."

Kurt snapped his head up towards Blaine and Puck who had just spoken.

"Help?"

Kurt shook his head a bit and let out a small, dark laugh, thinking about just how much these guys had helped him in the last couple of hours. He placed his eyes back onto Blaine and Puck, handing them each a furious, scorching glare.

"I don't want you help. So just go."

The pair got the message and quickly stumbled backwards, heading straight for Finn's room. They had their ears pressed against the door the second it closed, ensuring that they heard every single word of the heated exchange.

Kurt watched as the two boys scrambled back into the bedroom, his gaze lingering on the door for a second or two. He then turned his glare back on Finn, silence filling the space around them.

Their eyes locked and neither could look away. Kurt's voice broke the silence, a loud growl in the almost silent house, but his demeanor was unnervingly calm.

"You want to talk? Fine. We'll talk. First of all, you are not my brother. Second, you need to learn to keep out of my business-"

Finn tried to interject his defense, but it fell on deaf ears.

"He was going to kill you, Kurt!"

By this point Kurt was a crackling ball of wrath, each word encompassing more and more of his rage, each second adding the growing animosity he felt.

"And thanks to you he almost did! God! You always have to play the hero, don't you?! Well you're not, Finn! You're just an insecure coward who walks all high and mighty thinking he can meddle around in everyone's life and just because it's you doing it, it's perfectly okay! But it's not! So stop thinking that being my step-brother gives you some sort of right to stick your nose in my business! Especially since less than a year ago you were too embarrassed to be seen around me! You are such a hypocrite! Trying to act like some noble high school superman who goes after the big bully in defense of his poor, helpless fag of a brother so the whole damn school can praise you like some friggin' idol! But that's a little ironic when you're just as much of a homophobic ass as he is! And don't even try to act like you're okay with who I am, because I know you're not! I mean, the second I show even an ounce of interest in someone you freak out just like every other creep in this school! And just because Blaine's your friend doesn't mean I can't like him! Because I do, a lot!"

Kurt took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second as the house was once again filled with a silence that seemed even quieter now that he had stopped screaming. He took a moment before flicking his gaze back up to Finn. His words were steady, calm, measured. And brimming with fury.

"You have caused nothing but trouble for me. And I don't need it. I don't need you, or your damn 'brother' crap, or anything else for that matter. You are not a hero, Finn. So stop acting like one."

Blaine sat silently on the other side of the door, trying to make sense of what Kurt had just said.

"And just because Blaine's your friend doesn't mean I can't like him!"

He was full of too many emotions right now and didn't even notice when Kurt's door crashed shut or when Finn came into the room, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, his whole body radiating defeat.

"Because I do, a lot!"

Blaine's heart was pounding and breaking at the same time. All he wanted to do was run into Kurt's room and hold him and tell him that he felt the same, but there was no way he could. Especially not with the guys here.

He likes me. All this time and- I wonder how long. My god this is all my fault. I shouldn't have pushed Finn and- he looked so terrible.

The three of them were dead silent, neither of them really sure what the proper reaction to this was. No one looked at each other, no one said a word.

Puck was the first to speak.

"I- I think I'm gonna head home."

Finn raised a hand in goodbye and Puck slowly made his way out of the room. They heard the front door close and then Blaine looked up at Finn, who had taken a seat in his desk chair.

"I should probably go home, too."

Finn gave a small nod, a weak 'bye' the only sound he made.

Blaine walked down the stairs and had his hand on the door knob when a sob rang out through the house. Kurt was up there crying and Blaine knew about it and yet he couldn't do a single thing in comfort. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and was out the door before his heart could break anymore.

Blaine stood in his kitchen, putting small scoops of vanilla ice cream into a bowl. His head was full of thoughts of Kurt.

His voice, his face, his smile.

His pain, his anger, his injuries.

It was a mixed bag of emotions swirling around in his head like a tornado and Blaine couldn't ignore the raging storm of thoughts anymore. Kurt wasn't supposed to show up like this, to just appear and ruin Blaine's plans of having a quiet existence the last three years of high school. But there he was, beautiful and broken, causing Blaine to question every decision he had made.

The front door shut and Blaine snapped out of his thoughts to look up and see his brother coming towards the kitchen.

"Hey Coop."

"Hey Blainers! How'd the game go? Sorry I couldn't make- what's wrong?"

Cooper's happy-go-lucky attitude seemed to fall off his face and he looked very concerned when he saw Blaine, who was now slicing a banana on top of his ice cream.

"What? Nothing. Why?"

"You're making a banana split, Blaine. A banana-freaking-split! That is an Anderson Brothers telltale sign that something is not okay. Now what's wrong?"

Blaine gave his brother a forced grin.

"What? A guy can't enjoy a good bowl of ice cream without being questioned?"

Cooper just crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow at his brother. Blaine sighed as he closed the cap on the chocolate syrup and looked up at Cooper.

"We can share it."

Cooper still stared at him with a worried gaze and waited as Blaine grabbed two spoons and sat down at the kitchen table. Cooper immediately sat and grabbed a spoon, unable to keep from digging into the sweets in front of him.

"So what's going on? Is it school?"

Cooper was busily shoving ice cream into his mouth and Blaine couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. His brother was acting just like himself, protective and caring, but perpetually starving whenever food was around.

"Yeah."

Blaine's eyes seemed to glaze over a bit.

"It's just…there's this guy-"

Cooper quickly gulped down the bit of ice cream in his mouth so he could speak, instantly assuming the worst about Blaine's comment.

"Holy crap. Is someone messing with you?! We're not going through this again! I'm calling Dad and you're going to Dalton-"

He had pulled out his cell phone and was about to start dialing their father's number when Blaine caught his attention.

"Cooper!"

Cooper halted his dialing and turned to Blaine, waiting for the younger boy to say something.

"It's not that. I…He's…ugh"

Blaine let out a sigh of frustration and Cooper's gaze softened as he watched his brother.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

The edges of Cooper's lips curved up a bit in a knowing smile as it dawned on him.

"You like this guy, don't you?"

Blaine buried his face in his hands, signaling to Cooper that had he guessed right.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to just go to this new school and forget about all that stuff and just be normal-"

"Blaine-"

Blaine's body tensed, clearly annoyed and unwilling to hear the same lecture for the billionth time.

"I know!"

He took a breath, realizing he was being a bit harsher than he wanted to be. Arguing with his brother was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I know. I am normal. But I… I can't go through what I went through Coop. I can't."

Blaine's eyes were pleading with his brother, though neither of them was really sure for what. Cooper reached out an arm and gave Blaine's hand a small, comforting pat.

"I know. Trust me, I don't want you to. But I do want you to be happy. So…this guy, um…"

Blaine supplied Cooper with a name and as he did, an almost unnoticeable smile crept onto his lips.

"Kurt."

"Kurt."

Cooper repeated the name to make sure he heard it right. His eyes then glinted with mischief and an impish smile appeared.

"Is he a sausage lover too?"

Blaine's mouth dropped open and he pretended to be annoyed as he rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his grin. His brother was the master of breaking the tension in situations like this.

"Cooper."

"Sorry. Couldn't stop myself. But in all seriousness, is he gay?"

Blaine gave a firm nod and then picked up the second spoon to join his brother in devouring the ice cream as he spoke.

"Yes. Definitely. He's been a friend of mine for a while, a really good friend, and I just found out he likes me too. Apparently he and Finn had talked about it before."

Cooper's eyebrow quirked up at this new bit of information.

"Oh, he knows Finn?"

Blaine stopped his eating to look Cooper in the eye.

"They're step brothers."

Cooper's mouth formed a small 'o' when he heard it and his head tipped to the side just the slightest bit.

"Oh. Well that makes things a little awkward."

There was a small, sarcastic smile on Blaine's lips when he spoke.

"Yeah. Just a little."

"So does he know you're gay?"

A weird feeling formed in Blaine stomach at that word. It had been so long since he really identified with it.

"No. No one does."

His thoughts seemed to drift off for a moment and in that moment all he could see was Kurt on that staircase looking like some handsome, yet tragically damaged, porcelain doll. He opened his mouth to speak, slowly coming back to reality.

"But…there's more. He- there's this guy, the right guard on the team, Karofsky, he's… he threatened to kill him. And I should've seen it coming. I mean, he had been acting really different and just- it was so familiar. Like-"

"Like the way you used to act."

"Yeah…"

Blaine looked down and began to poke at the ice cream, feeling guilt wash over him.

This is how Coop felt when I pushed him away? Oh God.

The guilt only intensified as he continued his explanation.

"Well, apparently today after the game, Karofsky found him and beat the crap out of him. He-he's fine…kind of…not nearly as bad as I was but still, I kinda feel responsible. Like I should have done something more and-"

Blaine's head shot up to look at Cooper the second he was interrupted.

"Well maybe there is something you can do."

He gave his brother a questioning look.

"Tell him how you feel."

Blaine began to shake his head, unwavering in his decision.

"No. Absolutely not."

Cooper looked at his brother, almost a bit disappointed.

"You've been there, Blaine. You know how alone he feels."

Blaine shot up from his chair, completely outraged.

"Exactly! I've been there! And I'm not going back! Not after everything I've had to do to fix it! No!"

"Blaine-"

"I said No!"

"Ok! I got that! But can you just hear me out for a second?"

Blaine reluctantly sat down, trying to rid himself of his irritation and actually listen to his brother.

"This guy clearly has feelings for you and has probably never felt so alone in his life. You went through what he's going through now. Didn't you ever wish that there was just one person who was like you and could help you? Just one person you who really cared, who understood?"

Blaine looked up at his big brother, hazel eyes as big as saucers.

"I had you."

Cooper's features softened and he spoke quieter.

"But this is different, Blaine. You know it is. He needs you. And to be perfectly honest, I think you need him just as much."

Blaine chewed on the inside of his mouth as he considered Cooper's words.

"I…I need to think about it."

Cooper gave a supportive nod.

"That's understandable."

A warm smile pulled at the corner's of Blaine's lips, feeling a bit of pride at his brother's care and maturity.

"When did you get so grown up?"

Cooper immediately shot back with a quick witted comment.

"When your last growth sprit never came"

Blaine just rolled his eyes as his brother who had, notoriously, ruined a perfectly sentimental moment.

"There it is."

It was the final hours of what seemed to be the longest and most excruciating weekend of Kurt's life.

He had been so tired.

Tired of meetings, of talking and explaining.

Tired of worrying about his dad every time he started yelling at Karofsky's, of Mr. Schuester's voice trying to reason with everyone and defend Kurt.

Tired of Karofsky's glares and Ms. Pillsbury's ridiculous pamphlets.

Tired of that stupid feeling of hope he got when Principle Sue said she was going to expel Karofsky.

The feeling of hope that burned inside him, that made him feel that, finally, everything would be okay again, or at least somewhat okay. That feeling that fell to shit at the next meeting when he was told that the school board wasn't going to do anything. That he was just gonna have to 'deal' with the bullying and the threats. And it all just seemed so unfair.

He had no control.

He was going to have to go to school tomorrow, no exceptions. He was going to have to go through the terror again and again and every day because he apparently "chose" this life and it was going to suck and he was just going to just have to deal with it.

Well he was tired of 'just dealing with it'.

He had lain on his bed for hours, trying to find the willpower to face another day. But it seemed the harder he tried, the less willpower he had. The more he just wanted to start over. A new life. A new chance. Because according to the people who had control, he was doomed. And that was that.

But a thought had been creeping into his mind since the night after that game. A thought that he had tried so hard to push away, completely terrified by it, but he couldn't anymore.

For a moment, as he laid on the cold, locker room floor with Karofsky smashing his shoe into his skull, he felt like he was going to die. And in that small moment before everything went dark, he had felt calm, at peace. Because dying meant he didn't have to go through any more torture. It would all simply be over. And if there was some sort of afterlife, at least it would be a new start.

He knew he shouldn't have been alone, not with such poisonous thoughts coursing through his mind.

But he was.

Because he had no friends. He had pushed every single one away. There was no one there. No one to save him from the dark abyss that he was only steps away from falling into. No one to help him fight against such a horrid thought. And so the thought had swelled, until it became an idea. An idea that grew until it was the only thing he could think about. Until it was the only thing that made sense.

He had to take his own life.

The very idea of it made him sick. He had sat on the edge of his bed, silent, arms wrapped around himself, shaking violently. His breathing became shallow and soon he was hyperventilating. His eyelids began to flutter and he finally just squeezed them shut, slowly rocking back and forth, trying to keep himself from falling into the ferocious panic attack that was about to happen whether he liked it or not.

He had no control. No way out. No way to end this daily barrage of torment. No other possible solution other than to end his own life. And he was scared to death at the thought of it, but he couldn't think another way to protect himself from this living hell.

It was cowardice, yes, but what other choice did he really have? In a world where everyone else made decisions for his life, this seemed like the only thing he could have control over.

With every tear that dripped off of his cheek, he could feel every ounce of emotion in his body slowly drain out with them. He began to blocked off any thought of his dad, or Finn, or Mercedes.

Or Blaine.

The wet stains below his eyes began to dry and he stopped shaking so horribly. An icy layer formed over his heart as he did his best the let himself go completely numb, the only feeling in his body being the blood coursing through his wrists boiling with desire to be freed. He tried his hardest not to second guess himself. He just had to do it. No emotion, just action.

It was around three in the morning. The house was as silent as death as he crept down the stairs and entered the kitchen. His eyes fell on the rack of perfectly sharpened knifes. He pulled out the one on the far left, his favorite one. It always produced a nice, clean cut. He rested the smooth part of it on his wrist, almost enjoying the feel of the cool metal on his warm skin. He slowly turned the metal upwards until the thin blade was sitting on his vein.

And as the blade began to rest on his skin the reality of his situation hit him like a high speed train flying down the tracks.

He pulled the knife away in a movement quicker than lightning, only thinking that he had to get that knife away from himself as fast as possible. He leaned forwards, placing both hands on the counter in front of him. Knife still in hand, he closed his eyes and drew in a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down.

I can't. At least, not here.

He tried to think of a better place to do it, though it felt more like an excuse to not go through with it now. But after a little self-conflict, he decided; the locker room. Karofsky was the one who had pushed him to this point; Karofsky would be the one to find him lying in a pool of his own blood.

He packed the knife away in his cheerios bag and desperately tried to get some sleep.

But there was no possible way he was going to be able to get any sleep tonight. He was tossing and turning for hours with images crawling into his mind, thoughts invading his head. He was being worn down from the inside out. And just before he shut his eyes, he did something he thought he'd never do.

He prayed.

He prayed for someone to come along. Someone like him. Just one person who cared about him in a way he'd never been cared for. Who understood and could look him in the eye and let him know that everything would be okay. Someone who could save him from himself.