Chapter 24

Fourth quarter. Third down. One minute left in the game. Down by four. The teams take their positions. The crowd becomes a muffled roar. Everything seems to slow. The whistle blows. Finn takes the ball. Adrenaline is rushing. Fifty yards from the end zone. Feet pound on the grass. Forty yards. Finn narrowly misses being sacked. Thirty yards. Sweat pours down his forehead. Twenty. Another close call with defense. Ten. The rest of the world quiets.

Touchdown.

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Yeah!"

A loud cheer erupted from the drunken crowd as Blaine finished his keg stand and fell down, stumbling and trying to catch his balance. The game against their rival school had been won and differences had been forgotten; the only thing that anyone cared about now was ingesting as much booze as humanly possible before the end of the night.

Blaine found his footing, but only for a second. He fell forwards, face planting to the ground with a loud 'thud'. A hush fell over the crowd, all of them waiting in anticipation to see if he had died or something. Blaine suddenly jumped up, throwing his hands into the air.

"I'm good!"

They cheered for him once more and Blaine gave them a big smile, stumbling forwards to fill a cup up with beer. This was, by far, one of the crazier after-parties that the football team had ever thrown. It started with just the team and the Cheerios and about an hour in, had turned into about half of the school; all of them happy and drunk as they celebrated with almost every alcohol known to man.

Loud music thrummed throughout the house, red plastic cups, empty beer cans and bottles of liquor littering the floor. Some of the more promiscuous girls were letting loose out in the living room, meanwhile Stoner Brett and a few of his friends stumbled out of a bedroom; smoke billowing out when they opened the door. There were couples all over the room, practically mauling each other in sexual frustration, while some of the tamer students, freshmen, decided to play seven minutes in heaven. Over on the dining room table Artie was doing a body shot off of Brittany's stomach, everyone cheering loudly as he knocked back some tequila.

Blaine nodded his head in time with the music while he surveyed his insane surroundings, taking a drink of beer as he spotted Puck and Sam doing a huge chest bump. He giggled a bit, watching as Sam fell and Mike had to stumble over and pick him up, which really only resulted in Mike falling over as well.

He let his gaze drift on until he spotted Santana crying with a bottle of raspberry vodka in hand.

Blaine's vision was fuzzy and he almost tripped over his own feet as he headed over to Santana, her sniffles slowing when he put a hand on her arm.

"Hey, you oka-"

Without warning she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him forward and slipping her tongue through his lips. Alcohol was flowing through his veins, his judgment hazy while the beat of the music pounded on him like a drum.

He was confused when Santana pulled him even closer, not really sure what was happening, and even more confused because it actually…felt good. He wasn't even sober enough to realize that he should have said 'no' when Santana pulled him over to the couch.

She set her bottle down on the floor before taking Blaine's drink, knocking the rest of it back and then throwing the empty cup somewhere on the ground. She pushed him down onto the couch and then crawled onto his lap, placing one leg on each side of him.

She was incredibly forward, kissing without abandon as she eagerly ran her hands over his torso before once again wrapping them around his neck. Blaine went along with it, his eyebrow scrunching a bit when she took hold of his hand and placed it on her ass. He squeezed tightly, his other hand making its way up to her chest as he instinctively bucked his hips up against hers. A moan escaped her lips and she leaned forwards, whispering in his ear.

"How about we take this upstairs?"

A goofy smile plastered itself onto Blaine's face; barely aware of what he was even saying.

"Surrrre!"

She smiled and stood up, the music getting quieter as she pulled him up the stairs to the second floor. Santana had one hand on Blaine's ass and the other on a doorknob when Kurt walked out of the upstairs bathroom.

"Blaine?"

All of his attention switched over to Kurt, his face lighting up with a dumb, dopey smile when he saw his boyfriend.

"Oh hey, Kuurt!"

Kurt glared down at the hand on Blaine's butt.

"What are you doing?"

Blaine's brow scrunched.

"Uh…Santana…I think…"

The edge of his mouth twitched up in a slight smile but Kurt just looked disgusted. Blaine felt when Santana's hand left him and he looked over to see that she was already making out with Brittany; drunkenly walking her into the upstairs bedroom instead.

Blaine shrugged and headed for Kurt who, with a quick glance around to make sure the coast was clear, pulled him into a nearby bathroom.

"Blaine-"

"Kurt, you're so cuutteee."

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, leaning forwards to speak right into his face and Kurt gagged at the smell of his breath, bringing a hand up to cover his nose.

"Jesus! How much have you been drinking?"

"Uh…not sure. Kinda losht count."

Blaine laughed, putting his other hand on Kurt's shoulder and burying his head into Kurt's collar; slurring his words as he spoke.

"Can you believe I jus' made out with Santana? She's a girrrl! But it felt reaalllyy good!"

Blaine snorted a bit, holding on tighter to his boyfriend. Kurt took him by the shoulders, lightly pushing him off and receiving a look of confusion. Kurt looked him in the eyes, trying to get his attention.

"That's because you're drunk, Blaine."

The handle of the door twisted a bit and Kurt immediately stuck his hand out, clicking the lock on the knob to keep it closed.

"Occupied!"

Blaine toppled forwards a bit, nearly falling onto Kurt and putting both hands on his chest.

"I'm not drunk. I jus' had a few drinksh. It's a party, Kurrrt. C'mon. Kiss me."

Kurt shook his head.

"No."

There was knocking on the door as the same person tried to get in.

"Somebody's in here!"

Heavy footsteps moved away from the door. Blaine tilted his head to the side, placing a hand on Kurt's cheek and moving his lips even closer. The stench of his breath was heavy and Kurt had to turn his face away.

"Oh c'mon. You're not still mad at me for that fight, are you? I said I was sorry. I thought we agreed to let it gooo."

He slid his other hand down to Kurt's hip.

"No, I'm not still mad but-"

Blaine had both hands on Kurt's hips now and his lips were dangerously close.

"Then kiss me. Please?"

He squeezed Kurt's hips and whispered right into his ear, a few of his fingers dipping below Kurt's waistband.

"Did I ever tell you how hot your ass looks like these Cheerio pants? Because-"

Kurt roughly shoved Blaine away from him, completely repulsed.

"Can you stop it?! I'm not in the mood, Blaine!"

The shorter boy was dazed to say the least, suddenly very confused.

"Jesus, why are you yelling?"

Kurt put a hand against his forehead, too tired and too annoyed to deal with this right now.

"Because nothing else seems to work with you, Blaine! And what made you think that I would be okay with you hooking up with Santana? Especially after everything we talked about, after you promised me you would break up with her?"

Blaine put his hand on the counter, swaying back and forth a bit as he stared down at the floor. His brain finally processed what Kurt had said, eyes blinking a few times as a look of guilt came over his face.

"Oh. Oops."

Kurt looked at him for a second, arms crossed, and the tiniest bit of amusement peeked through.

"Yeah, 'Oops.'"

He rolled his eyes and stepped around Blaine to walk out of the bathroom. Blaine stumbled as he turned around, trying to keep up with Kurt's pace as he followed him out like a lost puppy.

"Kurt? Kurt, where are you going?"

Blaine tried to catch up with Kurt but he was caught off guard when another Cheerio grabbed him by his Letterman jacket and pushed him up against the wall, kissing without permission.

Kurt went downstairs, ignorant of Blaine's latest escapades, music getting louder with every step he took closer to the first floor. He felt utterly exasperated, not just at Blaine, but at everything.

He knew he wasn't mad. After all, Blaine was drunk and people do stupid things when they're drunk; things that they'd rather forget in the morning. He just couldn't handle him right now. He couldn't handle any of this; not the trashed house, or the deafening music and especially not the drunken teenagers.

The second the whistle had blown signaling the end of the game his mood had grown progressively worse, his head filled with a festering migraine that was only amplified by the obnoxiously pumping backbeat. Every little thing was setting him off and he couldn't stand it anymore; he just wanted to go home and sleep it off.

After wading through a sea of smashed, hormonal teenagers, he found Finn holding a soda. Probably the only one besides himself who wasn't completely plastered. Finn spotted him and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning forwards so he could be heard over the music.

"Hey bro, you alright?"

Kurt shrugged, looking back over at the staircase and hoping that he would see Blaine stagger down the stairs any second.

"I'm fine, just…really don't want to be here."

Finn raised his eyebrows.

"You wanna go home? Now?"

They had come to the party together, which meant in order for Kurt to leave, Finn would have to leave. Finn looked almost panicked, taking his hand off of Kurt's shoulder and using it to gesture as he spoke.

"I mean, usually I'd be cool with that it's just…this is our victory party, man! Do you know how long it's been since McKinley High had a reason to throw a victory party?!"

Finn's over excitement seemed to completely pass by Kurt, he couldn't have cared less. However, the Cheerio quickly realized this was a battle he was just going to lose. He took a deep breath, grimacing as he looked back around the room.

"It's fine. I'll just go sit over on the couch by the mound of drunkards that have already passed out and wait for you. Maybe it will be a little quieter over there."

"Aw c'mon, Kurt. It's a party. Have some fun!"

Finn gave him a pat on the back and Kurt lurched forwards a bit, forcing a tight smile before walking away. He found space on an empty couch, sitting down and fixing his hair a bit as he tried to get himself out of the sour mood he was in.

Finn's right. This is supposed to be fun. I need to enjoy myself, maybe this isn't so bad.

He glanced over just in time to see a football player puke into a potted plant.

Who am I kidding? I just want to go home.

He resigned himself to an aggravating night of loud music as he looked; actually he glared, around the room, rolling his eyes at the various displays of stupidity. He settled his gaze on two guys who had just begun to argue, one of them completely convinced that the other had stolen his drink.

They were now moving onto fisticuffs, both of them deciding to throw a punch at the exact same moment and simultaneously knocking the other out. One of the guys crashed into a lamp and it fell over, a look of panic crossing Brett's face when he saw the light fixture crack.

Kurt would have laughed had a couple not just collapsed on the space next to him, the pair of them looking in desperate need of a condom.

He took a deep breath, using all his will power to keep himself calm. But then he spotted Blaine stumbling down the stairs with a Cheerio clothed in only a bra and skirt; seemingly having 'misplaced' the rest of her uniform. Blaine threw his arms in the air, shouting loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Best! Party! Ever! WOO!"

He slipped down the last few stairs, drunk and happy, laughing the whole way. He finally stood; wobbling as someone stuck another drink in his hand. The goofy jock then spotted Kurt, looking cantankerous and uncomfortable. But Blaine's face was still bright as he walked over, clearly having forgotten the conversation they just had a few minutes ago.

"Hi, Khurt!"

He plopped himself down on the couch right next to him, the other couple finally having the good sense to go find somewhere a little more…private.

Blaine turned to him, drink in hand, and all Kurt could do was glare, not wanting to say anything because he knew it wouldn't end well. Everything was far too chaotic and he was on the verge of losing whatever patience he had left. Blaine looked at him through half lidded eyes, his words slurring even worse than before.

"Youh ohkaye? Wha's wrongg?"

Kurt glanced over at him before crossing his legs and mumbling his words.

"You mean beside you making out with girls all night?"

Blaine's face dropped but then immediately lightened back up. He leaned forwards, placing his free hand on Kurt's knee and whispering in his ear.

"I'd much ratheur be mahking out whith you."

Kurt rolled his eyes again and shoved Blaine's hand off of his leg; he had never been less attracted to his boyfriend. But the jock didn't seem to realize that as he leaned forwards again, holding out his drink as a peace offering.

"Aww, Kurt. C'mon. I don't like seein' you allll grumppy. Smiilleee. Pleeease? Have a drink with me."

Kurt didn't even look over at Blaine.

"No."

"C'mon. Just a sip. It'll make you feeel better. I feel greahtt."

Blaine moved the drink up closer to his boyfriend and Kurt turned to him, his eyes a piercing and livid shade of blue.

"I'll pass. Thank you."

Blaine sloppily tossed his free arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"Oh come onnn. It's just one drink. It's not like it's gonna kill youuu."

Blaine moved the cup right up to Kurt's lips.

"I said no!"

Kurt smacked the drink out of Blaine's hand, immediately standing up and leaving Blaine to fall over on the couch where he had been previously leaning on the cheerleader's body. He pushed himself up, looking at his boyfriend, completely shocked and hurt; he thought he had been helping.

Kurt took a deep breath, smoothing out his uniform as he tried to regain his composure.

"I…I think I'm just gonna go."

He turned before he saw Blaine's reaction, pushing through the crowd of people to get to the nearest exit and then he left the party.

Cool night air splashed across Kurt's face and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath now that everything didn't reek of alcohol. Even after closing the sliding glass door behind him the bass line could still be heard, now just a muffled, repetitive beat vibrating the ground in otherwise silent surroundings.

He opened his eyes, the full moon casting shadows everywhere as he tried to figure out where his exit had taken him. The backyard it seemed, one of those endless yards that led off into the woods with no actual fence surrounding the property.

His mood seemed to calm a bit, his migraine starting to subside, his shoulders starting to ease up. But a bitter feeling still stuck with him.

Why did I even come here in the first place?

Another gust of wind hit him and he pulled his Cheerios jacket closer; his head, along with the ringing in his ears, beginning to clear. If there was ever a night he regretted being a cheerleader, tonight was definitely it.

He blinked his eyes a few times, the day's exhaustion finally getting the better of him. A chill ran down his spine as the cold set in and he pulled out his phone to text Finn, already having decided that the twenty minute walk back to their house was significantly better than waiting here for his brother to want to go home.

Kurt: Walking home. Don't wait up for me.

The beat of the music was still going strong and he let out a small sigh. He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket as he turned, deciding to walk around the side of the house instead of trying to fight his way back through the party.

I wonder if Blaine will even remember any of this…

He turned the corner, walking down the side yard with his head lowered and hands in his pockets.

"You just think you're so freakin' special, don'tchu."

Kurt's head shot up and he stopped cold, his back stiffening at the sound of Karofsky's all too familiar voice. The brute was a few feet away from him, merely a figure in the shadows that the house cast. He swayed a bit, foot shifting and hand going up against the wall to keep his balance, his other hand occupied by a half empty bottle of whiskey. Kurt was immediately on edge when he saw the glint of the glass bottle, a sick feeling swelling inside him as he watched the amber liquid swish back and forth.

He took an unsteady breath, trying to keep calm even though every fiber of his being was telling him to run.

"I don't want you near me."

But Karofsky stumbled towards him anyways, feet uncoordinated as he walked across the grass. Kurt could only stand and watch as he got closer, too petrified to do anything more. His eyes were the only thing moving as he watched Karofsky lift the hand with the bottle and poke him hard in the chest, causing a bit of liquor to splash onto his uniform.

"With your…stupid uniform…stupid boyfriend…"

Kurt held his breath as Karofsky's face moved in, his stomach tightening at the stench of the alcohol. He closed his eyes, completely silent, hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets as he tried to stay calm. He stared into Karofsky's eyes but the expression on his face was nearly unreadable, deranged and twisted from intoxication.

Kurt took a small breath so he could speak, but his voice cracked a bit as he watched Karofsky take a quick swig of whiskey and he only managed to squeak out a few words.

"Leave me alone."

Karofsky wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, giving Kurt a cold glare.

"And I'm just not good enough for a special little fairy like you, am I? Am I?!"

With his last couple words Karofsky reached forwards with his empty hand, his rage finally breaking through to the surface as he pushed Kurt roughly, forcing him to stumble backwards. He was caught off guard, bumping into one of the metal garbage cans set up against the side of the house and almost making it fall over. Kurt's throat tightened, fear closing in on him as regained his balance.

"Leave me alone, David!"

Kurt tried to turn and run, tried to save himself, but Karofsky had already grabbed his arm; iron clad grip dragging Kurt towards him.

"Don't ignore me, you faggot!"

He was mere inches from Kurt's face, screaming at him as Kurt tried to turn his head away, eyes closed as he held back tears. A brief look of what could only be described as drunken lust flashed across Karofsky's face and he leaned forwards, pulling Kurt closer, trying to kiss him.

Kurt opened his eyes just in time and he panicked, heart pounding loudly in his ears as he used all of his strength to shove Karofsky away with a shaking hand; his voice nearly a shriek as he yelled.

"Get away from me!"

Karofsky was completely wasted, too drunk to react properly; unable to regain his balance and unable to let go of Kurt's arm in time. They fell to the ground, both landing on their backs, the bottle of whiskey falling from Karofsky's grasp and breaking on a sharp rock hidden in the grass. There was a single second of dead silence after the bottle's crash, and in that second so much happened.

Kurt's eyes locked with Karofsky's, a sense a terror shaking him to the core as he saw something shift, something change.

Whatever this man, this jock, this thing was lying next to him, it wasn't Karofsky; not anymore. The closeted bully was now warped by intoxication, deranged and hedonistic. An animal. An animal Kurt had barely gotten a glimpse of on the other end of that drunk dial. And now it was lying next to him, savage and unpredictable.

Kurt saw it in his eyes; he saw the change, all within a second.

And he had to get away.

Before Kurt's mind could fully process what was going on, his body had already kicked into action as he tried to get up and run, but that thing, that thing that could no longer be called Karofsky, was moving solely on animalistic instinct, already having turned over himself and sat on top of Kurt, one leg on each side on his body.

"Look at you! You think you're better than me, huh?! What?! Because you can shake some damn pompoms? Not so tough now are you?! Are you?!"

Kurt wasn't listening; he wasn't focused on the raging mass holding him down, but on a way to escape. He looked around frantically, head whipping this way and that as he looked for something, anything to help himself. Moonlight glinted off the broken bottle of whiskey, its neck still intact; the bottom half the only shattered part. If he could just grab what was left of the bottle, if he could just get it into his grasp then maybe he could use it as a weapon, maybe he could free himself-

But the monster sitting on top of him saw what he was reaching for and grabbed his arm, lifting himself up a bit to flip Kurt over onto his stomach before sitting back down.

Everything suddenly went dead silent, Kurt holding his breath as he laid there immobile. Terror began to build in the pit of his stomach as the seconds ticked by, unknowing and unable to do anything, his body completely at the mercy to the raging drunk currently sitting on top of him.

Oh god. Is he going to kill me?

The brute pressed his hands down on Kurt's shoulders, quiet as he knelt on the back of Kurt's legs. The only thing Kurt could do was lay there, face pressed into the grass, tortured by the uncertainty. As the silence dragged on, his breathing became harsh and ragged and a horrifying sense of dread came over him.

He felt the inebriated jock above him shift a bit, and then he began to slide his hands down Kurt's back, moving at a torturously slow speed. A chill ran down Kurt's back and every part of him froze, his mind going blank as he began to hyperventilate. Between frantic breaths he managed to choke out a few terrified words.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Kurt felt his hands slither down his sides, grasping his hips while a few fingers slipped underneath his shirt. Kurt bit back a scream when he felt the rough, calloused hands on his skin. The brute then began to lower himself, leaning down until he his front was almost flush to Kurt's back. Kurt closed his eyes, jaw clenched as he tried to push himself into the ground, dirty uniform be damned, he just had to get away.

The monster above him leaned his head down to Kurt's neck, dragging his nose along the skin there and taking in a deep, long breath; as if to commit the scent to memory. Kurt's whole body was shaking, a single tear escaping as the jock turned his head ever so slightly, lips just brushing against Kurt's ear with breath that still smelled like whiskey, his voice raw and scratchy as he spoke.

"Oh god, you turn me on."

His last word was punctuated by a small thrust of his hips and Kurt's eyes shot open, a shriek escaping from his lips. His silent exterior shattered, snapped away completely to reveal the panic he had been trying to control. The brute sat back up, his hands immediately going to the hem of Kurt's shirt.

"Wh…What are you doing?! Stop!"

Tears began to fall when he yanked the fabric up, revealing Kurt's lower back and he cringed as the cold night air hit his exposed skin. Kurt screamed when he felt the lewd monster put his hands underneath the shirt. Tears, hot and salty, streaked down Kurt's cheeks as his hands moved around; underneath him to the front of his torso, creeping their way down to his stomach, invading, unwelcome and unrelenting all the same. Kurt began to kick and scream, twisting this way and that, struggling as he tried to get those hands off of him.

"David?! David, stop! What- What are you doing to me?! Stop!"

Kurt refused to keep still, using every ounce of his rapidly depleting energy to fight back. The drunken fiend began to struggle as well, unable to do anything until finally, he had enough. He reached forwards and grabbed a fistful of Kurt's hair, moving himself back a bit so he could yank Kurt up into a kneeling position. He snaked a hand around Kurt's waist, pulling him close. Kurt's head was held back at a harsh angle, neck completely exposed and tears in his eyes as he looked back; a breathless whimper falling from his trembling lips.

"Please."

The crazed jock leaned forwards a bit; hand drifting down Kurt's torso as he slowly pressed his hips firmly up against Kurt, hissing in his ear.

"Relax."

He slammed Kurt back down onto the ground.

"NO!"

Sobs began to wrack his body, screams ripping themselves from his throat, muscles straining as he tried to push himself up with whatever strength he had left, desperate to get away and keep this horror from happening.

"No! Help me! Someone! Please!"

He had twisted his upper torso around, almost facing up to the night sky when he felt a hand clamp over his mouth.

"Would you keep quiet?!"

Kurt chomped down on soft flesh, the monster pulling his hand away quickly with a curse before delivering a sharp slap to Kurt's cheek.

Kurt's face smacked against the ground and he started gasping for air, hysterical as he tried to breathe again. The moment he regained some sort of control over himself he went right back into fight or flight. He began to scream bloody murder, his throat in pain and torn raw from his ear-splitting shrieks. But he kept going, not willing to give up.

"Help! Help! Someone! Someone help me! Please! Oh god please!"

But his voice was lost in the deafening thrum of the party's music, everyone completely ignorant of Kurt as he struggled, cold and alone, deathly afraid of what was happening to him.

"HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY! PLEASE! RA-"

But before Kurt could finish his cry, the barbarous jock grabbed him by the throat and smashed his face into the dirt.

"SHUT UP!"

The cheerleader spit some of the soil from his mouth and then began to claw at the grass, his desperation drastically increasing as his fingers dug into the ground. He didn't even try to push himself up again; he knew he didn't have the strength, he just kept grasping at nothing, frantically reaching out for something to hold onto.

Kurt felt as those invasive hands moved lower, winding down to his pants, fingers only just gracing his waistband before traveling lower until they grasped his ass and he felt a whole new wave of hysteria come over himself. The only thought on his mind was just how easy it was for his uniform pants to slip off, how with a small tug of the fabric the last barrier protecting him would be gone in an instant, leaving him vulnerable and open. How this uniform was supposed to be a fortress, supposed to make him invincible, but tonight, it felt more like some sick curse.

The small boy could feel his heartbeat vibrating against the ground; it was pounding hard, too hard. He knew had to get away. He had to stay strong and keep fighting and save himself. But he had been ignoring what his body had been telling him. He had been ignoring the pain he felt every time he took a breath, ignoring his strength slowly slipping away, ignoring the utter physical and mental exhaustion that was slowly taking over.

And he couldn't ignore it any longer.

He couldn't ignore it when his voice became too hoarse for him to yell above a whisper.

He couldn't ignore it when he no longer had the strength or the energy to fight.

He couldn't ignore it when his body couldn't handle the stress anymore, when his body started to fail him.

"No. No! Please, no!"

His muscles began to let go, his own body betraying him and leaving him defenseless. The fight, the struggle; it all slowly drained out of him, a sense of despair taking its place. The wicked animal above him immediately took notice and he seemed to slow down, taking his time, savoring this moment as his hands palmed at Kurt's butt through the fabric of his pants and a rough moan escaped from his lips.

Karofsky had taken everything from him. All of these precious firsts; his first kiss, his first relationship and now, if something didn't stop this, his first time. Stolen. Gone. Ripped away from him without so much as a single thought for him or his well being.

It can't end like this…

His body was sprawled out across the cold, hard ground, every bit of strength gone, every ounce of hope having vanished. It was quieter, now that Kurt hadn't the energy to scream. The sound of the jock's zipper pierced clearly through the silence and caused Kurt to cringe. He wanted to puke, hushed tears slipping down his cheeks as he choked out one last plea.

"Don't do this…Please…"

His body finally surrendered completely, forcing him to accept his fate. He let his eyes close, immediately feeling as though a massive weight had been lifted off of him.

Until he realized that it actually had.

Karofsky was no longer sitting on him, but Kurt didn't even care why as he curled into himself, pulling his knees to his chest as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

He was still a bit dazed, looking up when he heard grunts of pain. Through hazy eyes Kurt saw a figure sitting on top of Karofsky, throwing blow after blow into his face, each hit harder and more excruciating than the last. He granted one final punch and Karofsky's body went limp on the ground. The figure stood, turning his attention to Kurt as he ran over.

"Kurt!"

He looked up from the ground, reaching out a hand as he spoke, his voice soft and worn out.

"Blaine…?"

Blaine got down on the ground and took Kurt in his arms, drawing him close, smoothing his hair as he pulled Kurt up into his lap.

"I'm here."

The moment Kurt felt the reassuring, gentle warmth of Blaine's loving touch something snapped within him. Everything that had just happened came rushing back to him in an instant and his hands clenched in Blaine's shirt, holding on for dear life as sobs wracked his whole body, his cries almost screams as he buried his face in Blaine's chest.

Blaine held him tighter, if that was even possible, tears now streaking down his own cheeks as he tried to comfort his boyfriend.

"God, Kurt! I'm so sorry!"

Kurt moved his head, looking up at Blaine, his eyes full of pain as he tried to speak.

"B- Blaine I-…"

He tucked his head back into Blaine's neck; unable to finish his thought before tears overcame him. Blaine dried his eyes and tried to keep himself calm for Kurt's sake, his heart breaking with each horrifying cry that Kurt let out. He rubbed Kurt's back, brushed at his hair, tried to help him through this.

"Shhh…It's okay. It's okay, I'm here. It's all over. I…I'm so sorry."

Blaine waited a few minutes for Kurt to quiet a bit, all the while whispering gentle words and softly rocking him back and forth. Kurt was finally calm enough, he was still crying, but he was no longer sobbing, only shaking slightly against Blaine, half of it from the cold, the other half from sheer exhaustion.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

Blaine went to loosen Kurt's hands from his shirt but he only held tighter, pulling himself closer to Blaine, curling himself smaller around Blaine's body.

"Kurt, I have to get you home. You need to help me out here."

Kurt's voice was small and shaky, barely audible.

"…Okay."

Blaine took Kurt's hands, wrapping them around his neck. Blaine put one hand under Kurt's legs and the other under his back, pausing a moment before he did anything else.

"I'm gonna pick you up now, hold tight onto my neck, 'kay?"

Kurt gave the smallest nod and Blaine struggled to stand up, stumbling because, even though this whole ordeal had sobered him up quite a bit, he was still pretty drunk. The sudden lurch startled Kurt and he almost lost his grip on Blaine, a new wave of tears coming fresh to his eyes.

"Shh…It's okay. It's okay, Kurt. I'm here. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

He began to walk, not even glancing down at Karofsky who was still lying unconscious in the grass. Kurt's tears kept coming, silent with the occasional hiccup or shuttering intake of breath where he momentarily held stronger to his boyfriend. Blaine had to make Kurt feel better, had to make the tears stop. It killed him to see Kurt so…broken and he had to do something to make him feel at least the tiniest bit better.

With his feet a steady beat to keep time to he began to hum All I Ask of You, the first tune that came to mind. His soft hums turned to lyrics as he tried his best to remember the words. He was still fuzzy from the alcohol but he was pretty sure he was skipping the girl's parts of the song. He stumbled through two verses before happening upon a chorus, quickly realizing that he had skipped the first one. His singing was a jumbled mess, but it was warm and calming as his voice reverberated through his chest. Blaine stopped singing when he realized Kurt's sudden cries and hiccups had silenced, Blaine's feet padding along the sidewalk once again the only noise.

He looked down at Kurt, his eyes were closed and his breathing was even, the stress of today finally catching up with him and pulling him down into slumber. Kurt's mouth was open just the smallest bit, soft puffs of breath regularly hitting Blaine's neck. It was those soft little puffs of breath, that sound of just Kurt breathing, in and out, in and out, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, that kept Blaine going. He listened intently, focusing on Kurt to distract from the pain forming in his feet.

Kurt was still sound asleep when Blaine rang the doorbell, not even stirring when Carole opened the door, a look of surprise on her face.

"Blaine?"

Her eyes went to the sleeping boy in his arms.

"Kurt!"

She reached out a hand but Blaine instinctively took a step back, still over protective as he held Kurt just out of arms length. Carole pulled her hand back, confusion and worry etched in every line on her face. Blaine took a deep breath, looking down at Kurt's face. He shut his eyes, trying to keep himself from crying again before looking up at Carole.

"H-He's had a rough night. Can I, uh…can I go tuck him in?"

"Sure."

She opened the door wide and stepped to the side so Blaine could get in, speaking as he passed by.

"Do you need a ride home?"

He paused briefly before walking up the stairs.

"Yes, please. That'd be great."

He made it to Kurt's room, nudging the door open with his foot. Now that they were in the safety of the house, Blaine stared to feel his own fatigue; arms aching as he pulled back the covers on Kurt's bed and laid him down. Kurt still clung to Blaine, face scrunching up in his sleep when he felt the loss of warmth.

Blaine lightly kissed him on the forehead, holding on to Kurt's hands and gently pulling on them until he finally let go. He went into Kurt's bathroom, grabbing two hand towels and running one underneath some warm water. He came back, pulling off Kurt's shoes before sitting down next to him on the bed. He took the wet cloth, lightly wiping his face to get rid of the dirt before moving down to get the worst of the grime off of his uniform. He took the other hand towel and dried him before tossing both into the nearby hamper.

Blaine reached forwards, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Kurt's ear just as Carole cracked the door.

"Are you ready to go, hun?"

Blaine turned to look at her, glancing down at Kurt as he spoke.

"Yeah, just…can I have a minute?"

She nodded and quietly closed the door.

Blaine let his fingers trail over Kurt's face, his brow, his nose, his cheek, his lips. He somehow looked so peaceful and at ease in spite everything that had just happened. Blaine wasn't even quite sure what had happened.

"I…I'm so sorry, Kurt."

He pressed another kiss to Kurt's forehead, tears swelling in his eyes. He needed Kurt to know. Needed him to know that he was there, that he didn't ignore him or leave him. That he would never leave him. That he would always be there for him, to protect him, to keep him safe no matter what.

An idea finally struck him. A few minutes later, Carole poked her head back in, asking Blaine if he was ready. He gave her a tearful nod and a small smile, reaching back to leave a small touch on Kurt's cheek before getting up to go.