Glee Club is…Glee.

When Kurt finally walks in after two days of avoiding them, thirteen pairs of eyes including Mr. Schue stare at him. Blaine scowls at them behind Kurt's back, but Kurt just keeps his head high.

Rachel is the first to break the uneasy silence. "Hey, Kurt, we really missed you! We're—we're so glad you're back! We thought it'd be a few more days but—yeah." She grins, wide and bright. The rest of the club is in various states of approval and fear, obviously nervous about Kurt's reactions after that lunch and how he hadn't even gone this afternoon. Only Puck gives Kurt a slight nod and small smile.

"It's good to be back," Kurt says lightly. He stalks to the empty seat in the front next to Finn, Blaine right behind him. He sees Finn shift the slightest bit away and Kurt narrows his eyes, but lets it go. Sitting stiffly, Kurt tries to keep his head up. The amount of judging and silent gossip in the room is almost overpowering. He lets Blaine slide his arm around the back of his chair and relaxes slightly.

Mr. Schue claps his hands and grins. "Well, everyone, let's give Kurt a big welcome back!" He claps enthusiastically until the club follows murmurs small words of congrats to Kurt. Blaine's arm slips down to Kurt's waist and rests on his hip, warm and comforting.

As Mr. Schue starts to ramble on about teamwork, Kurt focuses on not freaking out. There are too many people here; too many people that he doesn't really trust. People that saw what was happening to him and let to go.

"I'm really glad you're back," a small voice whispers. Kurt turns to see Tina give him a shy wave from behind him. He nods slowly. "I—we—were going to visit you in the hospital, but Finn told us not to." She says, squeezing Mike's hand. Mike agrees quickly. "He thought it would just upset you, but we were thinking of you," and Kurt's so thankful that she says that instead of the generic "we were praying for you" shit everyone's been tell him. God wasn't with him growing up in Ohio and He certainly wasn't with Kurt in the locker room

Kurt manages to unstuck his voice. "Thanks," he says hoarsely. He really does like Mike and Tina. They are the only sane couple in Glee (other than himself and Blaine) and neither has ever purposely tried to hurt him. Blaine's hand tightens around his waist. "I appreciate it."

He catches Mercedes' eye as he turns back and she winks.

Slowly, Kurt starts to relax. He's safe here, among friends. Maybe not the greatest friends ever, but they all love him (or tolerate him) in their own way.

But it all goes to hell when they start dancing.

Mr. Schue wants them to do something with their hips for their first (as yet undetermined) song. Most of the class catches on, swaying seductively and giggling. Finn is hopeless as per usual and Blaine thinks the whole thing is fucking stupid, but it's Kurt that nearly falls on his ass more than once.

"Come on, Kurt, work your hips, I know you can do it!" Mr. Schue calls out. "You did 'Single Ladies' at that football game last year, I know you can dance!"

Blaine's eyebrows shoot up. "You did what?" He asks, impressed.

"Nothing," Kurt's cheeks burn. God this is humiliating. He can't get his muscles to cooperate, caught between the pain from his healing ribs and the residual reluctance to look, in any way, attractive. Karofsky's voice keeps speaking in his head, talking about how Kurt was so sexy, with those hips, fucking asking for it. He stumbles yet again, close to tears and Blaine's there to steady him.

Santana rolls her eyes and jabs Kurt in the side. "Yo, baby penguin, we're going for sex appeal here, not geriatric hip rolls." Brittany mumbles something about how she used to have a penguin but it ran away.

Kurt flinches back and Blaine steps forward to shove her. "Back off, Satan, don't be a bitch," he snaps.

She glares right back. "Listen, Hobbit, I wanna win this damn competition. And if we lose because Hummel over there can't do a goddamn pelvic thrust, Imma go all Lima Heights on your ass." A few people are nodding along, though they at least look guilty. Kurt feels every one of his barriers go up as he becomes the center of attention because even fucking dancing throws him back in the locker room. He doesn't react when Blaine snarls and lifts his arm to attack the cheerleader.

Mike grabs Blaine before he can punch Santana, but then Sam steps up. "We should come together for the good of the team," he says, though he kind of ruins the altruistic approach by continually glancing back for Quinn's approval. "Maybe Kurt should sit this competition out," he smiles at Kurt apologetically. "What happened to you is a hard thing to come back from, and no one will blame you if you need to take a few months off. We need to think about the team, you know?"

Tina and Mercedes look furious and even Puck starts shaking his head. Lauren just raises her eyebrow as if amused at the insanity before her.

"He still has nightmares about Karofsky, we can't expect him to be okay with this," Sam continues and Kurt glares at Finn because really? At least Finn looks guilty and even Rachel rolls her eyes at him.

"What the fuck, Evans?" Puck puts in. "How can you talk about being a team when you're trying to kick Kurt out?"

"Guys, let's calm down," Mr. Schue starts, but no one listens to him. Even Brad the piano guy rolls his eyes at Mr. Schue's half-hearted attempts at control.

Sam draws himself up. "Someone has to step up, and if Hudson won't call out his step-brother on bringing us down, I will. We need to win this competition or else we're just losers again!"

"We can't punish Kurt for something that's not his fault!" Rachel says desperately. "Music is a healing tool; we can't just cut him off from singing!"

"Sam is right," Quinn takes her boyfriend's arm and eyes Kurt. "Look, we all love Kurt, but this clearly isn't good for him. He shouldn't be forced to sexualize himself so quickly after…you know."

"Kurt can make his own fucking decisions!" Blaine yells, pointing a finger in Quinn's face.

"Get off my girlfriend!" Sam shoves Blaine back.

"Stop being an asshole!" Tina shouts, and then the whole club dissolves into arguing and shouts and Kurt just sits on the nearest chair. His chest feels hollow, like he's nothing. He's so fucking useless.

Of all of them, Artie's the one to come over. "Yo, dude, wanna get out of here?" He says gently, and Kurt could kiss him even though he's wearing a tacky sweater vest with martini glasses on it. Blaine's too busy yelling at Sam for acting like a fuckhead and Finn for spilling all of Kurt's secrets to the biggest gossips in the school to notice Kurt sneaking out with Artie.

He concentrates on wheeling the chair and ignores the commotion behind him.

Artie directs him to the auditorium. It's empty and silent as Kurt pushes him up the ramp. They sit near the edge of the stage; Kurt has his legs hanging off the side while Artie wheels up next to him.

"Figured you needed a break from their crazy," Artie breaks the silence. Kurt just nods jerkily. If he talks, he'll cry. And even though Artie is one of the original five glee club members, they've never been close.

The auditorium is mostly dark except for the lights on the stage, and Kurt tries not to think about who might be hiding under the chairs. He picks at his sweatshirt, an old Ohio State one from Blaine.

"I'm sorry about them," Artie starts but Kurt shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it." He whispers. "They're probably right. I'd just ruin your chances at Regionals if I tried to dance. Can't even do a fucking hip pop," he says bitterly.

Artie laughs and Kurt stares at him in shock. "Neither can I," He waves at his paralyzed lower half. "I ain't dancing anytime soon."

Kurt flushes. "I didn't mean—"

"I know, don't worry about it." Artie waves his hand flippantly and rolls a little closer. "I don't think Sam really means anything he's saying. He's just worried Quinn is getting eyes for Finn now that Finchel is broken up—"

"'Finchel'?"

"Finn and Rachel." Artie explains. "You are Blaine are 'Klaine,' but don't tell him that."

Kurt actually giggles. "Yeah, that sounds way too adorable. He might punch you for that."

"Damn straight." Artie agrees. They quiet for second. "But anyway, Sam will get his head out of his ass in a couple days once Blaine and Puck rip into him. And Santana isn't that much of a bitch. She's been off ever since you left. And Quinn is scared of being a loser again after last year."

Kurt shrugs. They all have their reasons, but still. "It just hurts that they see me as a liability like that." He says softly.

Artie nods understandingly, then changes the subject to their shared chemistry class. They're still laughing over Artie's impression of their frog-like teacher, Mrs. Heinsmann, attempting to demonstrate a sodium-water reaction and blowing up half the classroom last week when Blaine finds them.

"Fucking club is fucking psychotic," Blaine growls as he pulls Kurt into a fierce hug. "Can we go home?" Kurt nods and starts to walk off, but he overhears Blaine talking and stops a few feet away. "Thanks for getting him out of there," he mutters to Artie.

"It got ugly, didn't it?" Artie says, resigned.

"Let's just say we're lucky Lauren stopped us from actually killing each other." Blaine gives him a significant look.

Kurt quickly turns and walks to the car.

Tomorrow is going to suck. He wonders if he's still in the Glee Club.

He wonders if he even wants to be.

The next day, Kurt skips school to go to Karofsky's sentencing hearing. Their lawyer accepted the plea deal quickly and the judge preferred to get the hearing out of the way as soon as Karofsky was no longer bedridden. Burt didn't want to go, but Kurt did and managed to get Blaine to take him.

Besides, he wasn't sure if he was even welcome among his friends anymore.

Unlike Law and Order with its grand, wooden rooms, the courtroom is nondescript with grey walls and a faded blue carpet as well as a few tables and half-filled benches. The judge is an older man, somewhat heavier and with a stern-face. He looks at Karofsky, who sits in front of him with his lawyer, with barely concealed contempt as the prosecutor outlines the plea deal. Karofsky turns slightly to glance at the audience, and Kurt holds back a gasp. White bandages are still wrapped around his head and Karofsky has an ugly yellow bruise across half of his face. Kurt really did a number on him.

Kurt is in the back, Blaine beside him. They'd slipped in just after the hearing started so Karofsky wouldn't see them. The detectives are in front of them. They'd simply nodded when Kurt sat down, though Detective Adler had looked apprehensive. Kurt didn't care. He needed to be here.

His dad doesn't even know about Kurt and Blaine skipping school. Blaine had been skeptical, but relented and agreed to drive. He knows Kurt. This is closure.

Also, Blaine still feels bad about Sebastian and Kurt's not too worked up about using it to his advantage.

Kurt studies the back of Karofsky's head. It's ducked down, though God only knows if it's in actual shame or because his lawyer told him to look repentant. His broad shoulders are tense though, like they got when he was in a particularly foul mood at McKinley. It usually means pain for Kurt, and he unconsciously grabs for Blaine's hand. The light squeeze brings him back and Kurt glances around the room at the rest of the audience.

On the other side of the room, alone, a couple huddles close with a young, wide-eyed girl. She's about twelve, with long brown hair and wet eyes, obviously confused and scared. She just stares at Karofsky. Her parents, both in their forties or fifties, don't take their eyes off Karofsky either. The man has his arm around his wife, who suddenly buries her head in his shoulders and sobs loudly at the charges being read. With a tired expression and sad eyes, the man rubs her back and grabs his now crying daughter's hand. Karofsky turns to look back at them and Kurt's heart jolts.

Family.

David Karofsky has a family, and they're sitting twelve feet away from him and listening to their son get sent to jail for almost killing a gay classmate.

Kurt's stomach lurches and he forces his body under control. For so long, he'd been able to build up Karofsky as some demon incapable of love and compassion. Just some guy, like he'd sprung up from the ground or something. No one would care about him. But that family sitting across from him loves Karofsky—David—and Kurt's just ruined their lives.

A hand winds itself around Kurt's waist and he's tugged towards Blaine. "You doin' okay?" Blaine whispers, though his voice is on edge. Blaine knows something's wrong. Karofsky's lawyer begins swearing that the plea is not being entered under duress and Kurt tunes the noise out. He can only see the little girl, looking at her brother and whispering frantically to her mom as her mom gets increasingly hysterical. Somehow, Kurt manages to unstuck his voice.

"That's his family." Kurt says softly, and then the little girl turns around and sees Kurt. Their eyes meet and Kurt can see the comprehension dawning on her face. Anger and hate bubble up in her big brown eyes and Kurt kind of wants to throw up at the force of it.

He can't even blame her. He's the guy responsible for putting her big brother in a coma for days; for smashing his face in and getting him arrested and making it so that she might not see him for almost two years. Fuck, David probably used to give her piggy back rides or braid her hair or steal her toys or give her extra cookies after dinner. He probably loves her, and she clearly adores him. Now Dave's in a stiff suit and about to get put in handcuffs and get taken away because of Kurt.

He takes a shuddery breath at the venomous expression directed at him, but the girl turns around and pointedly ignores him. Blaine, bless him, hugs Kurt even closer, hooking his chin over Kurt's shoulder and glaring at everyone that tries to give them the side-eye. Kurt should care about their surroundings, but it's Blaine. He tries to relax but still feels like crying. The Karofsky's are going to hate him.

"Do you accept the terms of this plea deal?" The judge says, cutting through Kurt's reeling mind. He frowns at Karofsky.

"Yes, sir." Karofsky says, barely above a whisper. His mother cries harder.

"Very well." The judge sighs and rubs his eyes, tired. "Young man, I…" He trails off and shakes his head. "In all the years I have presided over this court, I have never had to hear about such wanton callousness between two juveniles like what was presented to me today. You acted in complete disregard to Mr. Hummel and damaged him both physically and emotionally."

Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand, pressing their shoulders together. The contact helps Kurt remember to breathe as the judge glances up at them. Mrs. Karofsky is almost wailing and Mr. Karofsky tries to soothe her, murmuring "everything's going to be alright." Their daughter turns and glares at Kurt again.

Karofsky doesn't answer the judge, though Kurt can see his shoulders shaking faintly. He's angry.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense before I sentence you?" The judge says.

A quiet ow from next to him makes Kurt realized he is squeezing Blaine's hand hard enough to cut off circulation. He forces his fingers to relax.

Karofsky lifts his head and Kurt can't breathe. "I am sorry for all the trouble I caused." He says into the silent room.

LIAR! Kurt's mind screams.

The judge glances up from his pile of papers disbelievingly. "Mr. Karofsky, you accepted a plea from the state for juvenile assault and harassment charges. As you are sixteen, you will be placed in a juvenile detention center until eighteen, after which you will be on probation until you are twenty-one. While at the center, you will undergo therapy and complete an anger management course. Some people are gay, Mr. Karofsky." The judge's frown deepens. "You will just have to learn to deal with it. Case dismissed." He knocks the gavel with a final blow before standing up and exiting. Kurt watches Karofsky close his eyes in defeat. It feels like a hollow victory.

The constable steps forward with handcuffs and then Mrs. Karofsky turns and catches sight of Kurt. Her face goes bloodless, then flushes with anger.

"Oh shit," Blaine mutters and starts pushing Kurt out of the row. "Seriously, Kurt, move, this won't go well, she's fucking psychotic."

She pulls away from her husband and starts marching towards Kurt with murder in her eyes. Kurt stands in the middle of the aisle and resists Blaine's insistent tugs. "I ruined her family's life, Blaine," he says sadly. "The least I can do is let her talk to me."

"Fuck, Kurt, she ain't coming over here to talk." Blaine glares at her but crosses his arms. He manages to look slightly intimidating and Mrs. Karofsky falters slightly at the warning in Blaine's eyes. But she gets past it when she's in front of Kurt and shaking with anger, nostrils flaring and looking a little like a pissed off bull. She eyes Blaine like he's scum before turning her glare on Kurt.

Up close, Mrs. Karofsky is much older than Kurt thought. The hasty make-up does a poor job of hiding the bags under her eyes and wrinkles line her mouth and forehead. Her eyes, though, are shiny with hate and fury.

"This is all your fault," she hisses, jabbing a finger into his chest. Kurt takes at step back but she's right there. Dimly he hears the detectives trying to calm her and pull her away but she won't have it. "Your fault! My son—my Dave—thinks he's a fag because of you! His whole life is ruined because you couldn't keep your preferences to yourself!"

Kurt's stomach plummets somewhere to the bottom of his feet. The conversation in the hospital comes back and Kurt's heart clenches painfully. She really did care more about the fact that Dave had attacked a boy than the fact that Dave attacked someone at all.

"—fucking harpy, leave my boyfriend the fuck alone!" Blaine is shouting and shoving her back when Kurt's aware again. "This isn't Kurt's responsibility! This is 'cause your damn son couldn't figure out how to keep his dick in his pants!"

"How dare you, you little criminal—"

"Kurt's fucking innocent here, you fucking cunt!" Blaine spits out. Kurt can't even breathe as she watches Blaine flip out on this woman, barely even feels Detective Adler's comforting grip on his arm as she gently tugs him away from the confrontation. Blaine's face is red and he just keeps going, cursing every few words. He does that when he's pissed. "Your son is a fucking rapist, and flaming gay; gayer than fucking Neil Patrick Harris with his cock up David Burtka's ass while on a unicorn that shits rainbows!" Honestly, Kurt kind of wants to laugh at the absolutely horrified expression on Mrs. Karofsky's face, but his stomach still twists painfully and he concentrates on not completely losing it. The media is already going to have a field day; he shouldn't add to it.

"Stop it! Dave's not like that; Dave's not sick!" a shrill voice interrupts. The little girl is at her mom's side and clutching her arm. "Mom, bring Dave back, he's not bad; he's good, I promise! Bring him back!" She looks back to see Karofsky frozen at the door, hands in handcuffs behind his back and his expression full of anguish as he watches his family confront Kurt. His eyes drag up to meet Kurt's, a mixture of hate and sorrow and resignation.

Kurt's breath hitches and he's going to burst into tears in front of all these people, he just knows it. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Kurt stops when a large hand, not unlike his father's, comes down gently on his shoulders. He looks up to see a tired man with a grey beard. Karofsky's dad.

"It's not your fault," the man says, ignoring his wife's shriek of indignation. "I apologize that we didn't find out what was going on with Dave sooner." Blaine scoffs, but Kurt just watches this man carefully. He and Karofsky have the same eyes, but his lack the hate and fear Karofsky's usually hold. Mr. Karofsky gathers his sobbing daughter up in his arms and nudges his wife to move. "Karen, let's go; Dave needs us," he says evenly.

Her eyes flash. "No, John, no. This—sick—boy; and his insane accusations have ruined David's life!" She rounds on Kurt, who steps back at the pointed finger in his face. "My son is not a fag." She hisses and Kurt's knees shake. He opens his mouth wordlessly.

What can he possibly say to that?

He didn't make this up. He didn't.

How had he wound up as the bad guy in this mess?

Karen gets dragged back by Detective Adler and Blaine pulls Kurt out of the room. Her screams and threats follow Kurt and he focuses on Blaine's hands as he runs, half-blinded by tears. Just before the door closes, Kurt risks looking back. Karofsky is frozen at the sight of his mother screaming at the constable and police officers while his father and sister cry off to the side. Then Blaine whisks him away and the faces are blocked by the heavy wooden door.

Kurt doesn't even wait to get outside before hugging Blaine close and hiding his face in boyfriend's shoulder. His lungs hurt from holding his breath and his eyes burn with unshed tears. Warm arms wrap around his back and Kurt squeezes Blaine's jacket between his fingers. He's warping the fabric, but fuck it. A shaky sob escapes his mouth.

One of Blaine's hands finds its way into Kurt's hair and strokes comfortingly. The other hold his lower back and Kurt feels so loved and safe and protected that he can't stop himself from breaking down into deep, harsh sobs.

"C'mon, we're taking this to the car," Blaine suddenly says, tense. Kurt freezes, scared. Something was wrong. He wipes his wet face quickly. "Keep your eyes forward, ok?" Blaine let go of Kurt and harshly pushes him towards the parking lot, face grim.

Kurt doesn't protest, and they've almost escaped when a hysterical female voice screams after them "FAGGOTS!" The words slice into Kurt and he speeds up, just needing to be the hell away.

He suddenly realizes why Blaine thought coming to the hearing was a bad idea.

Blaine drives them home. He keeps stealing glances at Kurt when he thinks Kurt isn't looking, but Kurt just draws his knees up to chest and watches the scenery fly by. Stupid. Kurt is so fucking stupid.

"Can we not tell Dad?" Kurt whispers, avoiding Blaine's eyes. He really can't deal with his father right now.

Blaine doesn't answer right away, but sighs. "Yeah, I guess." He says grumpily. They fall back into silence.

"I hadn't thought about them before." Kurt picks at his nails. It feels better to talk about it, but it's still hard. Blaine looks at him but doesn't offer anything, letting Kurt sort out his thoughts. "K-Karofsky was just this guy." His throat closes up and Kurt breathes deeply. "You know; just some random asshole that made my life hell. But he has a family. People that love him; people that are going to miss him." Kurt hugs himself. He's such an ass. This is all his fault. "I ruined his life. Their lives. They won't recover from this." He whispers.

The car pulls over to a random parking lot in front of a generic convenience store. Blaine stops the car and looks at Kurt hard. "You once told me I had no responsibility over Karofsky's actions. That I couldn't have stopped him." Blaine lets a hand fall on Kurt's shoulder and strokes firmly with his thumb until Kurt meets his eyes. "It's a two-way street, babe. He fucked up his own life."

"But—"

"No. It's not your fault! Why can't you understand that? It's not your fault!" Blaine growls in frustration and suddenly hits the steering wheel. Kurt jumps at the display of violence and Blaine sighs. "Fuck. That's not—fuck." He rubs his face roughly with his hands and then glares at the dashboard.

The car is silent except for Blaine's harsh breaths as he tries to calm himself down. Guilt twists in his stomach, but Kurt waits for Blaine to collect himself.

"I love you." Blaine suddenly says.

Kurt wrinkles his brow in confusion. "I love you too," he says, because it's Blaine, Kurt loves the shit out of him, but Blaine shakes his head.

"No, Kurt. I love you. Like, a whole fucking lot." Blaine glances at him and tugs on a silver ring in his ear. "I hate it when you blame yourself for thing you didn't do. The Glee club is insane and fucking Karofsky doesn't deserve your sympathy. Neither does his damn family; especially that whore bitch." Blaine growls the last few words. "You're better than them. Better than all of them." Blaine crosses his arms, holding them tight to his body.

"I'm trying to remember." Kurt says softly. He looks outside the window at the fading sun.

Blaine throws the car in drive and pulls out of the small lot.

"We're getting drunk tonight." He suddenly says with a smirk.

Kurt's eyes widen. "What-are you insane, we are not!" He almost yells indignantly.

Blaine just snorts and shoots Kurt a girn. "Just for tonight. We're going to go to my house and drink shit and completely fucking relax because the whole world sucks and we deserve to be happy for once." Blaine's eyes darken as he glances over at Kurt and Kurt licks his dry lips at the amount of love and lust in them.

And oh God, it's tempting. To just give up for now, to surrender to his emotions. But he needs to at least try to be responsible. "I don't even like alcohol." He says unconvincingly and Blaine laughs.

"That's what strawberry Smirnoff is for; my innocent little one," he says, phone already out and texting. Probably Puck, and Kurt really needs to stop that friendship before Blaine gets sent to juvie again, but he's much too empty from the hearing and Karofsky and families at the moment to worry.

"We're going to be a complete mess tonight, aren't we?" Kurt sighs and Blaine grins, even though Kurt totally hasn't actually agreed yet. But he pretty much has.

"When aren't we?" Blaine grins and threads his fingers through Kurt's.

It's kind of perfect.