“Just know this, Hummel. No one—and I mean no one—hits me and gets away with it.”

The threat had been repeating in Kurt’s head all night and even a warm bath couldn’t help him relax. Sleep consisted of nervously thinking of ways Blaine would get back at him, and before he knew it, the alarm clock on his nightstand was shrieking the start of a new day. He shut it off with a quick slam and lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling before dragging himself out of bed.

Sighing, he retreated to the bathroom and started his daily moisturizing routine, applying a bit more than normal to hide the light purple bags under his eyes and changed from his silk pajamas into his Dalton uniform.

At promptly 6:30, he was headed out the door and down the hall. It was much quieter than it had been the day before, probably because of most of the boys were still sleeping. This made Kurt stop suddenly.

“Today’s Sunday…“ he muttered to himself. “There are no classes, so what do we do?”

He didn’t have any class work since it was all rather simple—much simpler than what he had been given at McKinley—and he had finished it in class. His weekend privileges were revoked so he couldn’t visit his family and his cell phone had been taken since he had first arrived here. Using the computer was also out since the only computer that was usable was the one in the library which was being watched over by Mrs. Bowen, the cranky old librarian. She smelled like carrot juice and liked to pick on the boys. So this really only left one option for him.

He would just spend his day in the library, taking breaks for meals and bathroom breaks, and read.

The fact that Dalton was a reform school didn’t matter- there had to be a book that would captivate him. But first, he needed breakfast. His stomach was growling fiercely as he tried to remember where the cafeteria was.

He was halfway to the dining hall when he heard the click of heels against tile behind him.

Kurt turned to see who the footsteps belonged to but instead found nobody in sight. In fact, the footsteps seemed to stop as soon as he did. He frowned and did a quick once over of the area, but he turned back around when he saw nothing and continued down the hall.

Whomever the footsteps had belonged to, they weren’t following him anymore.
__________________________________________________________________
The same thing had been happening to him all day.

It started at breakfast.

Kurt was the first one there, which wasn‘t a surprise. He sat down at the closest table to the back and waited for the clock to hit 7 so he could eat and head to the library.

At 6:58, more boys started piling in and while most gave him dirty looks, there was something off about the way they looked at him and it was something that Kurt wasn’t used to seeing.

A flicker of fear.

At 6:59, Trent walked in and that’s when it became strange. Yesterday, Trent had been the closest that he was ever going to get to a friend. They sat together at lunch and talked and Trent even offered to show him a few tricks to survive around Dalton, a sort of guidebook.

But today, as soon as Trent had seen him, the other boy had given him a strained smile and then sat near the back with two other boys who kept glancing at him and whispering.

And so, Kurt grabbed his breakfast, which consisted of an apple, some sort of porridge, and a slice of stale bread and ate alone.

After breakfast, he strode out of the dining hall and made his way to the library. On the way, he received 12 glares, 5 smirks, and another lost friendship from Greg, the skittish student from his group therapy session who made it his apparent mission to completely avoid him.

As he stepped inside, he gave it a once-over. The library was rather large for a school. Much larger than the one at McKinley. It was separated into 12 rows vertically and organized into genres and alphabetized by authors. In the center of the room was Mrs. Bowen’s desk where she sat writing something down on a small yellow post-it note.

“Do you need something?” She questioned, focusing her crooked gaze on him, eyeing him up and down with a scowl.

“No, I’m just looking.” He smiled but her scowl deepened.

“If I see any gum on any of these books, you’ll be punished severely.” She threatened but turned away.

Kurt glanced at the tall bookshelves and their genres as he walked past them.

Fiction, Non-Fiction, Biographies, Textbooks, Cookbooks, Myths, and some others. Eventually, he stumbled upon a book that was rather familiar to him.

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

With a small shrug, he took the paperback novel and sat down at one of the very small and very empty tables to read.

A mile above Oz, the Witch balanced on the wind’s forward edge, as if she were a green fleck of the land itself, flung up and sent wheeling away by the turbulent air…

He sat there for hours becoming absorbed in the book that he didn’t notice when the clock that hung high on the wall struck 11. He hadn’t even registered that he might be hungry until about 12 when he had finished and Mrs. Bowen started yelling at him to get out of her library because she was closing up for the rest of the day.

The halls were filled with other boys talking quietly to one another, although the volume of their voices got quieter as he walked past them. He steeled himself and ignored them as he walked to the doors of the dining room.

Officer Simmons stood blocking the doorway, her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun. Next to her stood another officer who looked rather bored. They glanced at him as he walked towards them but held their arms out as he tried to get inside.

“Can I-?”

“It’s 12:05.” Officer Simmons interrupted.

“…What?”

“It’s 12:05,” She repeated.

“So?”

“So, lunch is served at noon.” She glared at Kurt unsympathetically.

“But, I—” He tried.

“You missed your chance. Be sure to come at 7 for dinner,” she told him briskly.

“…Fine.” Kurt scowled but turned on his heel and headed back down the hall, trying to ignore his growling stomach.

During his time at Dalton, he had become familiar with a few key items: a painting of a man with a small child standing next to him resided on the far left wall, a vase filled with pink flowers that sat on a table to the right of the staircase, and a rather nice chair which was placed near the dining hall—these were his guides, his way back to his room.

Unfortunately, the vase of pink flowers were replaced by a vase filled with yellow flowers and Kurt had gotten lost this time around. He took wrong turn after wrong turn, becoming more and more panicked as his surroundings became more alien.

He had somehow managed to end up in an almost abandoned room filled to the brim with racks of stacked chairs. Dust, cobwebs, and chipped gray paint decorated the walls along with a broken piece of chalk on the floor near the blackboard.

Kurt was about to turn back and attempt to retrace his steps when he saw a figure through the window. A pudgy boy with very thick and very familiar dark hair.

Trent.

That wasn’t the only one he saw either.

Two boys followed after him, keeping at least ten feet of distance between them at all times so as not to seem suspicious.

One of them, a burly boy with spiky brown hair, kept sneaking glances at Trent who still remained oblivious, his hands tucked firmly in his pockets. The second boy, a very tall and very lean boy whose sandy-blonde hair was messily styled, was much stranger. His left hand was gripping tightly onto something in his pocket while his right was clenched in a firm fist at his side.

Kurt narrowed his eyes as he stepped closer to the window in order to get a better view.

Trent stopped and so did the other two. It was only when Trent glanced behind him did they move.

The burly boy ran straight for Trent and tackled him into the ground. Trent squirmed helplessly beneath him. He threw a few punches but Trent was no match with the strong hold that he had on him.

Kurt didn’t have any idea where he was. He wasn’t that familiar with Dalton but he couldn’t just sit here. He needed to go for help.

A tiny glint from the sun attracted Kurt’s attention back to the fight and over to where the other boy stood, as the blonde showed Trent the switchblade knife he held.

Trent’s eyes widened in fear as the blonde waved it in front of him and then opened his mouth, a sly smirk growing on his face.

Kurt watched as the fallen boy’s eyes narrowed in rage and he kicked and punched and squirmed much harder than before. The blonde pocketed the knife once more and mentioned something to his companion. He nodded and turned away and disappeared out of Kurt’s sight.

That left just Trent and his assailant.

Kurt ran out of the room, fueled by Trent’s cries of pain as the other boy punched him brutally again and again.

He turned down several corners and doorways as the shouts got louder until he reached a doorway that lead outside and into the almost abandoned pathway.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Trent shouted before the boy on top of him landed another punch to his jaw, issuing a sickening crack through the courtyard.

Kurt didn’t hesitate. All he knew was that he had to help Trent in anyway that he could.
He ran towards them, the blood dribbling out of Trent’s mouth becoming more apparent as he drew closer.

“Hey!” He shouted.

The distraction was more than enough. As the boy turned his head to glance at him, Trent squirmed underneath him and managed to land a solid punch to his nose, making the boy fall backwards and off of him.
Kurt ran towards Trent and grabbed his left arm as he helped him up.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, giving him a once over before turning to glance at the other boy.

The calm and happy boy from before was long gone. In his place stood a nervous and angry one, glaring heavily at the one who tried to attack him.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” Trent murmured, wiping the blood off of his chin. “Oh god, my jaw hurts…”

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Trent massage his lower jaw. He turned them both away to lead them back inside when quickly approaching footsteps made them both freeze.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bud?”

“I think he’s trying to do a sneak attack there, Nick.”

There was a rustle and a heavy grunt, and Kurt and Trent both glanced behind them.

A blonde boy was sitting on Trent’s attacker looking rather bored. Another was poking said brunette with a stick, chuckling when the boy gave out a snarl in response.

“Nick…Jeff…What the hell are you two doing here?” Trent mumbled, glancing between both of them.

“We heard a scuffle so we came to see what’s up. After all, scuffles are no fun without the power duo, right Nick?” Jeff grinned, and glanced at his partner in crime. They fist bumped.

“That’s correct. What happened here anyway?” Nick’s eyes flickered briefly to the blood on Trent’s blazer.

“He snuck up on me. Kurt here helped me out.” Trent smiled at the shaken boy beside him.

Nick’s gaze landed on Kurt.

Kurt didn’t know how he looked. He was shaken, sure, but would that make him look weak? He didn’t want to give the top guys here a reason to pick on him since all he really wanted to do was survive here and go back to McKinley.

“Alrighty then.” Jeff grinned, ignoring the groan that fell out of the fallen boy’s mouth. He looked down at the guy he was sitting on and smirked.

“Kirk, you should head back to your dorm,” Nick said.

“It’s Kurt,” he scowled.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Just head back to your dorm.”

“But how do I—”

“Go back inside through that door,” He gestured to the door that Kurt ran out of originally. “From there, take a sharp right, go down the hall until you reach a painting of an ugly dog that looks like a rat. From there, go to the left and the stairway will be right there. I think you’ll be able to find it from there.” Nick waved him off.

“And what about Tr—?”

“We’ve got him. Don’t even worry about it. Just go,” Jeff grinned, and wrapped his arm around Trent’s waist from his seat on the other boy.

Kurt nodded and with one last glance at the situation, he disappeared inside.

“Now then…” Nick mumbled thoughtfully, turning back to the boy who’d attacked Trent.

“What are we gonna do with you?” He reached into his blazer pocket and felt the blade in his palm and smiled.
_______________________________________________________________
Blaine had been in his room for hours.

There was something off about Hummel. He was innocent, way too innocent to be considered a delinquent, worthy of attendance at Dalton Reform. Yes, he had spunk and and inkling of bravery, but he was mostly just a simple guy.

So what the hell did he do to get in here?

Theft? Joyride? Drugs? He counted off each one on his fingers as he went but still couldn’t come to any conclusion that made much sense. Kurt just didn’t seem…bad.

“Don’t you dare assume that you know my past, or what I did. You don’t know anything.”

“Knock, knock.” Jeff sang, interrupting his thoughts. He stumbled through the door with Nick right behind him.

“What the hell do you two want?” Blaine asked tiredly.

“Can’t two friends just come and visit?” asked Jeff in a falsely hopeful tone.

“No.”

“You’re so mean, Blaine.” Jeff pouted.

“We’ve got news, Blaine.” Nick interrupted and glanced pointedly at Jeff.

“News?”

“It’s about Tiller. They’re going after all of the Warblers. They nearly got Trent today. They, uh…they threatened to do him the same way they got Thad.” Nick said carefully. He was aware of Blaine’s sensitivity to this.

Blaine clenched his fists as the memories started to resurface.

‘Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out… breathe in…’

“Help me, Blaine… please…”

‘Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out… breathe in…’

“You’ll be next. You’ll all be done for, just like that dumb faggot, Thad.”

‘Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out.’

“Blaine?” Jeff called again and shook Blaine out of his reverie.

“What?”

“Did you hear us?” Nick asked.

“Hear what?”

“That if it wasn’t for your new boy toy, Trent might’ve gotten far worse than just a bruised jaw,” Jeff repeated.

“Hummel?” he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Where’s Trent now?”

“In the infirmary. He said he just fell down the stairs and hit his jaw on the way down but the old bat didn’t look like she was buying it. But, we know what really happened. We let Shaun off to relay a message to the others but I doubt it’ll do much,” Nick answered. Blaine nodded and pushed himself off of his bed and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Heading out to see the hero.” He emphasized ‘hero’ with a smirk and air quotes before leaving the room with the slam of his door.

There was a small silence, and then, “Wanna take bets on how long it’ll take till they fuck again?” Jeff asked, grinning.

“They fucked already?” Nick asked with a low whistle. That was a record, even for Blaine.

“Of course they did, you moron. Didn’t you see what happened at the Cafeteria?”

“Nope. Just heard it from Wes and David.”

“Oh, well they fucked.” Jeff chirped.

“Hm…It’ll probably happen within the first ten minutes.” Nick held out his hand.

“I’ll say the first five.” The blonde held out his.

“Deal.” And they shook on it.