The rain echoed on the picnic shelter roof. Lighting streaked the darkening sky. He could barely move, the mottled colours painted his back like a rotting canvas. Blaine's hand fisted in the bag of peas, no longer frozen, his knuckles white with disgust. It had been on impulse, a spilt second decision that turned nervously in his head as he had stuttered into the phone. He didn't really want Blaine to see him like this, when despite everything his courage had abandoned him. So, when Blaine had turned up at the local park with a first aid kit he hadn't really known how to act. Lucky for him Blaine murmured soft instructions and was brave and sure enough for both of them. Kurt shifted uncomfortably, both in the pain of his bruises and at the concern the other boy showed. "He shouldn't be doing this to you, to anybody. You need to tell someone." Blaine's angry murmurs were only just decipherable over the summer rain. Kurt played with the hem of his shirt that was pulled up over his shoulders, he knew the rich blue of his button down would now be decorated with dark speckles of crimson. "It's okay to need someone sometimes." Blaine reached around and placed a comforting hand on his forearm and gently squeezed. He nodded his head once and whispered in a small voice. "Thank you."

It was quarter to three on a storming Friday afternoon and a silent silver river pooled at the tip of his nose.