"Yeah, I know...When he told me he was my boyfriend, I couldn't believe it. I feel really bad that I don't remember anything. Must hurt him a lot..."

It had been Puck's idea. The party, the liquor, the fact that the whole football team had been invited. Kurt had thought about turning down the offer, but it was a weekend and it was the only way he would be able to see Blaine. With their conflicting rehearsal schedules, it had been impossible to see Blaine for almost two weeks and there was no way that Kurt could go another weekend without seeing him. But with all the homework that weekend, Burt had set down the rules. No going out that weekend whatsoever. He wanted Kurt to spend time away from Blaine, especially because he didn't want his grades slipping.

That's when Puck came in.

"Come on, man, are you scared or something?"

"No Puckerman, but I don't want to run the risk of being forced to work in the garage with my Versace coat on as a form of punishment." Kurt huffed, shuddering at the thought of it. "Now please go away, I need to get to class."

He walked ahead of Puck, weaving in and out of the crowd in the hallway. Puck sped up after him, his guitar hanging across his back. "Dude, I knew you were prissy but this is taking it a bit too far. I thought your boyfriend was more important than your clothes, but whatever, I was just trying to help." He mumbled as he walked past Kurt.

"What was that?" Kurt asked in an insulted tone.

"Look, you've been whining for weeks about how you can't see your boytoy. Don't take it personally but everyone's getting tired of it. I just thought you'd like a chance to see him, but if you don't want to go to the party just because your old man will get mad and you don't want to get your clothes dirty, forget it." Puck said, then turned to walk off.

Kurt sighed, and looked down at his bracelet. It had been a while since he had gotten to spend time alone with Blaine. Of course, it wasn't like he would die if he didn't see him. But with everything going on at school lately, he felt that he needed to see him. What was the problem with being a teenager for a night and sneaking out of the house to go to a party?

Then again, his three week punishment had just ended. Two weeks had passed since his house arrest was over, and he'd only gotten to see Blaine once. The rest of the time both of them had been busy with rehearsals. Dare he risk his freedom again just to see Blaine for one night? Kurt bit his lip and with a bracing sigh, he turned around and ran down the hallway.

"Puck! PUCK!" He shouted, trying to catch him before he turned the corner. He reached out his hand and tugged on his jacket. Puck raised a questioning eyebrow. "Let's do it."

"Atta boy! I knew you had the balls." Puck laughed as he clapped Kurt on the back and walked off.

Between dealing with Karofsky's ups and downs in the previous weeks and the ongoing inner battle to speak our or stay silent, Kurt figured he could use some stress relief. He had never quite immersed himself completely in the teenage world, so why not throw caution to the wind and try it for just one night? How bad could it be?

"A party?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah, Puck is throwing us a party. Well, more like he's using us as an excuse to throw a party." Kurt said, holding the phone to his ear.

"But why would he be throwing a party for us?" Blaine asked from the other line.

"Oh..." Kurt blushed "He just thinks it's been a while since we've seen each other and he thought it'd be a nice gesture to give us an opportunity to spend some time together. Even though that obviously means he just wants an excuse to invite everyone at school."

Blaine scoffed on the other end of the line. Kurt couldn't help but feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "What?" He mumbled.

"You can't seriously expect me to buy that right?" Blaine said, stifling his laughter. "Puck? Being considerate? Ha!"

"Well do you have any better explanation?" Kurt said defiantly.

"I bet you've been acting like a lovesick puppy and he got fed up with it, so he used your me-withdrawal as an excuse for the party." Blaine said.

Kurt managed to scoff in return. "You're blunt. And seriously, me-withdrawal? Really, Blaine?"

"What? I do hear I'm quite addicting. It's my charm and my class."

"Blaine, you have about as much class as Rachel's wardrobe."

Blaine ignored the comment. "So, have you been acting like a lovesick puppy?" Kurt could feel his cheeks burn red and he was suddenly grateful that Blaine couldn't see him.

"Because I know I have." He continued. "Wes and David are pretty close to locking me out of their dorms."

"R-really?" Kurt mumbled.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Blaine laughed. "I do spend 24 hours a day thinking about you."

Kurt blushed. "Um...anyways, do you want to go or not?"

"Considering that it's been at least two or three weeks since I kissed you, of course I want to go."

"Good. Now all we have to do is figure out what we're going to wear."

"Is it for this Friday?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. Oh and I think I should also let you know…Karofsky will most likely be there." Kurt muttered.

"What?" Blaine shouted.

"Okay, could you do me a favor and pull the phone away next time you decide to scream?"

"Why on Earth is he invited? Is Puck crazy?"

"Well, Blaine, he is a part of the football team and all of the team is invited. I told you. This is just an excuse for Puck to throw a party and invite everyone at school. We don't really have much to do with it." Kurt sighed.

"Just stay by me the whole night then, I don't want him anywhere near you."

"You know, he isn't all that bad."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find words. He let the sentence hang in the air before adjusting his voice and continuing. "He isn't all that bad? Did you just say that? After all he's done to you Kurt?" The tone of incredulity was heavy in his voice.

"That's not what I meant—"

"Did you forget about how he used to bully you? Or should I say how he continues to bully you, because I'm not dumb Kurt, I know he's still bothering you. Did you already forget how he kissed you in the locker room? All the times he's shoved you into lockers? You know, I just don't get it Kurt. These last few weeks you've been acting really weird about this idiot. After everything he's done, you're defending him and being nice to him!" Blaine went on, breathing heavily.

"What do you mean? I'm not being nice –"

"Oh, cut it out will you? Everyone's seen you hanging around him. Rachel, Finn, Santana – they all call to tell me that they see you spending time with him. What's the deal Kurt? Do you like him?" His rant had come to an end and the silence that followed left an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart was racing and his chest was heaving and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

Kurt's throat was dry; he opened his mouth to respond but the words got caught in his throat.

"Kurt…?" Blaine's voice quivered.

"Blaine, I want you to look down at your left wrist. What do you see there?"

"…Your bracelet." Blaine mumbled.

"Exactly. The bracelet I made for you. The one that has our initials and a heart in between. The bracelet I made for the sweetest, most attractive, selfless boy I've ever met. The only boy I have feelings for. And apparently, a boy who's feeling a little jealous right now."

Blaine couldn't help but crack a smile. "I'm not jealous, I'm just—"

"No, Blaine, dear, you're jealous."

"Did you just call me dear?"

"Look, the bottom line is I lo—" Kurt coughed, trying to cover up his mistake. "I like you, and only you. And I haven't forgotten what that neanderthal has done to me. I remember everything. But he's been acting weird lately and I've just been hanging around him to find out why. One moment he's awful and the next it's as if he's a decent human being. If I've been spending time with him it's simply to figure out what the hell is wrong, because I do think there's something wrong. Look, I didn't want to tell you because I didn't know whether to involve anyone else but—Karofsky dropped a note a few weeks ago that wasn't all that pleasant…"

"What do you mean, Kurt?"

"It was a suicide note." He whispered.

"Whoa…what?" Blaine breathed.

"Yeah…This whole sexuality thing seems to really be eating at him. It was addressed to his dad."

"So what did you do?" Blaine asked, highly intrigued.

"Well, that's the thing. I didn't know what the hell to do. I didn't want to show it to anyone in case it just pressured him even more. I just went to talk to Ms. Pillsbury that I thought Karofsky could use some counseling for reasons I couldn't share. And she contacted his father and told him that there was a concerned student that thought Karofsky might be upset and he could use some support. And I guess it's been working because that was right after I got grounded, and he's stuck around what—over a month? He's still acting weird but I think he's okay for now."

"I wish you would've told me, Kurt, I could have helped you." Blaine said softly.

"Except for the part where I had no phone to call you with and I simply didn't want to add any more burdens to your plate. But everything's fine now, it seems. And you don't have to be worried about competition. You already know you're the only one. So can we please move on and figure out what we're going to wear? The party's in two days."

"Okay, okay," Blaine chuckled. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions Kurt. But…try and communicate with me, okay? Even if you don't know how to handle a situation, it's okay to tell me."

"I will."

"Okay. Good. Now, how do you feel about bow ties?"

"I have never liked anyone in this room." Puck grinned as he looked around at everyone. The rest of the crowd glared at him, and everyone took a sip of their vodka. There hadn't been enough liquor present for everyone to take a shot at every statement, so they had to make their resources last as long as possible. (Admittedly, many of them were already buzzed just from the loud music echoing off the walls and the heat of the game).

Kurt looked over at Blaine as he lifted his glass up in recognition and took a sip from his own drink. From the corner of his eyes he noticed Karofsky eyeing him hesitantly before he too, took a sip from his drink.

It was then that comprehension dawned on Kurt. This whole time he hadn't been bullied because of what he was or because Karofsky hated him. Kurt didn't understand how he couldn't have seen it before. The side glances that were thrown his way, the small smiles that were quickly covered up with smirks, the way he would always catch Karofsky watching him...The whole time it hadn't been because Kurt disgusted Karofsky...but exactly the opposite.

He felt as if all of the air had been punched out of his gut. It was a disgruntling realization to make, that someone would hide their feelings for someone else by pushing them, threatening them, and being violent. Kurt almost felt sick at the thought but he was too experienced by now to ignore the problem. If he wanted to deal with Karofsky once and for all, it had to be confronted.

He stood up abruptly, excusing himself to the bathroom while giving a barely perceptible gesture to Karofsky to follow him. Unsure of whether to follow, Karofsky looked up at him and searched Kurt's eyes, seeking an answer. Kurt gave another nod and went up the stairs to the hallway so that they could speak more privately. After a two minute wait, Karofsky also excused himself and went upstairs under the pretense of looking for more hidden liquor.

No one thought anything of the two boys' absence, they were far too intoxicated to care. That is, no one except Blaine, who had seen the interaction of looks and noticed Kurt's gestures towards the boy.

Once upstairs, Kurt pulled Karofsky further down the hall so they wouldn't be overheard. Even with the loud rendition of "Raise Your Glass" coming from the drunk teens downstairs, he couldn't take chances. He stood with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"What do you want?" Karofsky spit out.

"Oh cut the act, will you?" Kurt said irritably.

"I don't know what you-"

"Look, I know. I figured it out." Kurt said simply.

Karofsky was getting visibly angrier, unsure of what the hell Kurt was talking about. "Whatever you think you figured out, you're wrong."

"Oh, so you don't like me then? What a pity." Kurt said sarcastically.

The response that followed was unexpected. Kurt barely moved aside in time for Karofsky's punch to hit the wall beside his face. All of the blood drained from Kurt's face as he felt the wall behind him for a way out. There was no escaping unless he called out for help, but he didn't want to be a coward. He swallowed, trying to relieve his dry throat.

"See this is what I don't understand Karofsky!" He didn't know where he got the courage to speak back, but the rant had already begun and there was no way to stop it. "You clearly have feelings for me, but you pull this kind of crap. You push me, throw slushies in my face, threaten me and then try to punch me? You think you can get rid of your feelings for me by beating me up? You think it's going to make me like you any more or make you like me any less?" Kurt hissed at him.

Karofsky brought his face right up to Kurt's, the fire in his eyes dangerously growing stronger. "Shut up." He spit out. "Stop saying that like you know me." He grabbed on to Kurt's shirt collar to make his point.

Under any other circumstance, Kurt would have lost every ounce of pride and courage that he had, but he couldn't hold back. It was as if someone had possessed his mind and taken over his power of restraint. "I'm just trying to help you Karofsky! You owe me, remember? I still haven't told anyone about you being gay! I haven't started screaming for help, because you know my friends would rush here in a heartbeat if they knew something was wrong! So why don't you shut up and listen for once?" Kurt could feel anger bubbling beneath his skin as he hissed every word so that no one else but Karofsky would hear him.

Karofsky's face blanched at this, and he obeyed hesitantly. "You made my life miserable. And still I haven't said a single word to anyone. I could ruin you, I could let you crash and burn but I haven't. The least you could do is to stop taking out your dumb jealousy on me, because it certainly isn't winning my heart over."

"Who said I wanted to win it anyways?" Karofsky laughed bitterly.

"You didn't have to say anything. I've seen the way you look at me. Why are you so stuck in your own little world? God, I can't stand you. You can't accept who you are and you come and take your anger out on me because you like me? What's your problem? You're mad that you have feelings for a guy? You're mad that I'm in love with Blaine and you can't have me?" Kurt pushed Karofsky away from him, unsure about where his sudden strength had come from.

"You're fucking arrogant, faggot." Karofsky shook his head as he talked. "You think I'm actually jealous of you and your dumb boyfriend? I would never look at you even if I was a homo."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt said, breathing hard.

"You're such a prissy know-it-all, you think everyone fucking wants you when you're just pathe-"

Karofsky was taken aback. He didn't know how it happened and he didn't see it coming. But out of nowhere, Kurt had grabbed a hold of his face and pressed his lips to his own. And he felt the chills running rampant up and down his spine, and the bubbling warmth at the pit of his stomach...but just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. And then-

SLAP.

Kurt's face was flushed with anger, he pushed Karofsky into the wall, wiped his own mouth with his arm and looked at him. "You're pathetic. Because if you didn't know you were gay five seconds ago, you know now. Those feelings you just got? Guess what? It means you're gay. I hope you got your answer." He spat on the floor and shuddered, feeling sick to his stomach. "And just so you know, you disgust me."

Kurt turned around and stalked off, his heart still beating a thousand miles per hour. The anger was still bubbling at the pit of his stomach and he couldn't stop his ragged breathing. He had just kissed Dave Karofsky and it was the worst thing he'd ever had to do. He didn't know where it had come from, it just happened. What he did know, though, was that the kiss wasn't out of attraction. He wanted to shut up Dave Karofsky for good. He was tired of the show, tired of the big front he put up, tired of being pushed around because one guy couldn't come to terms with his feelings. Kurt was tired and he decided to close the matter by making it impossible for Karofsky to deny his sexuality any longer. So, he had kissed him, and then slapped him.

He felt disgusted with Karofsky and disgusted with himself. Once again, he shuddered and he rushed down the hallway to the open bathroom to vomit in the toilet. But as he turned into the dark room, he crashed into someone. He fell backwards in the darkness, dizzy from the repulsion and the sudden impact of the crash. He stood up shakily, his face pale from sickness and turned on the light. His gaze fell on the boy standing in front of him, the rims of his eyes were red and there were tear streaks trailing down his cheeks.

"Blaine...?"

The blue eyes met the hazel, but what they found etched across the surface was nothing but disbelief and disappointment. Without thinking, Kurt raised his shaking hand to touch Blaine's cheek but it was slapped away.

"Don't—"

"Blaine, it's not what you think—"

"How could you?" Blaine whispered, unable to keep his voice from breaking. He walked past Kurt and rushed down the stairs. He could feel his heart plummeting far below his stomach with every step he took. Every movement caused a stitch at his side, made every breath more painful. He couldn't see where he was going, but it didn't matter. He needed to get away.

"Blaine, WAIT!" Kurt yelled, following after him. He watched as Blaine walked out of the front door and slammed it shut. His actions went unnoticed however. The music was far too loud and the others were far too busy singing and dancing to take note. Kurt left without anyone turning a head in his direction, but that didn't matter. All he wanted was to catch up to Blaine, to explain everything.

He saw Blaine turning the corner down the street and he ran to catch up.

"Blaine, PLEASE!" He shouted. Tears found their way to his eyes again as he leaned forward just enough to graze Blaine's hand.

"Don't touch me—" Blaine breathed, pulling away.

Kurt's face burned as if it had been slapped. He could feel the heat rising, but he blinked away the tears. "Blaine, please, you have to listen to me…It wasn't what you think!"

"I don't want to hear what you have to say Kurt. What I saw was enough." The disappointment hung on every word.

"Blaine, please. Didn't you hear what I was saying? I wasn't telling him—"

"STOP!" Blaine yelled. "Just stop—I don't want to know what you said to him Kurt. Haven't you done enough damage tonight?" And with the tears streaming down his face, he turned on his heel and walked off.

The heat was quickly rising in Kurt's cheeks. He watched, open-mouthed, as Blaine walked away – unable to do or say anything more. He tried to form words in one last attempt to explain, but no sounds would escape his lips. Everything was closing in. He could feel his stomach dropping, the air around him was constricting. The ground below him seemed to give out and Kurt fell to his knees. He could not make sense of what had just happened. His eyes watched as Blaine turned a corner and walked out of sight. All was lost.

His vision was growing hazier and he let out short, shuddering gasps. Time had stopped and he couldn't make sense of anything. An aching emptiness was consuming him, swallowing him whole and there was nothing he could do to fight it. The hot tears were leaving their burning trails down his cheeks and he gripped his chest with his hand, almost as if trying to hold on to his heart. In just a matter of seconds, everything had fallen apart. He feared that any small movement would break what was left of him completely.

And that's when it clicked. This was his fault. Karofsky's fault. Like a tidal wave, white-hot rage flooded through him, replacing any common sense or emotion. In a second, the emptiness, the aching was all gone – all he could feel was uncontrollable, severe rage.

"Kurt?"

Kurt turned his head, not even bothering to hide the tears that were running down his cheeks. Rachel had followed him, beer in hand and a quickly-fading smile plastered on her face. He got up, letting out a shuddering breath, and walked back towards her.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Rachel said, hiccupping.

"It's nothing, Rachel, go back to the party." Kurt said dryly.

"But you were—"

"I'm fine, Rachel. It's just a small fight. I'm just going to clean up, you go on ahead." He gave her the most forced smile he could, and she walked back to the party, turning her head every now and then uncertainly, as if unsure whether to continue with the festivities or comfort her friend.

When she had finally walked in, he willed himself to follow. His motions were robotic. One foot in front of the other, unthinking, unfeeling – simply moving. With every step he took a deep breath, trying to control the fury that was bubbling at the pit of his stomach. But his efforts were useless. He felt the heat rising again, the feeling of oncoming tears. He could not control the explosion of feelings that had just occurred inside him. And then, as he reached the side of the house, he could no longer contain himself.

His eyes were filling with tears. He struggled for breath to fill his lungs, leaned against the wall of the house for support. He tried to call out Blaine's name again but his voice was far too broken to come out coherently. That's when it hit. Just like that, everything was done. He had lost the person he cared for the most.

He managed to walk to the open front door, leaning against the frame, trying to ease himself in – until he caught sight of the one person he didn't want to see. He gazed at Karofsky who was staring down at him from the top of the stairs. And suddenly the rage overcame him, spreading like a poison through his veins. He ran up the stairs, pushing Karofsky to the wall.

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Kurt cried, throwing his fist at Karofsky, who dodged it. He grabbed Kurt's wrists and pushed him back against the other wall.

"YOUR FAULT. THIS IS YOUR FAULT." Kurt yelled, his screams drowned out by the continued singing coming from downstairs.

He tried to flail his arms or raise his knee to hit Karofsky but he couldn't move.

"It's your fault, you disgusting coward!" Kurt hissed, fighting against the strength that was now crushing his wrists. But what he said had gone too far. Karofsky slammed him to the floor, anger flooding him beyond his control. Kurt gasped at the impact, but was too late in reacting. Karofsky was already picking him up by his arm and was now dragging him away from the hallway and into a room.

Kurt writhed, trying to hold on to the carpet or the door frame, but nothing seemed to work. What was happening? His throat was constricting and his eyes couldn't make sense of what was going on. Karofsky picked him up by the shoulders and threw him to the bed. Before he could make any movement, any sort of attempt at escape, Karofsky had already knelt over him, holding him down by the wrists.

Kurt's eyes widened in fear as he looked into Karofsky's face. There was something animal about his features, the way his smirk had a maniacal twist and the hunger that had taken over his eyes.

"You're going to regret calling me coward now, fag." Karofsky breathed threateningly. In a single movement, he ripped Kurt's bracelet from his hand and without hesitation, he pressed his lips roughly to Kurt's.

He didn't know how he had found the strength to stand up. In fact, he didn't even know how he had made it to the hallway. He felt lost. His vision was blurred by the tears in his eyes and every movement he made only reinforced the numbness he felt. His head was pounding and he could feel the air leaving his lungs.

Karofsky had run. After everything was done, he had adjusted his clothes and left the room running, not even bothering to say anything. He left Kurt lying there like a rag doll; he had broken every single piece that was left.

He wasn't sure how he managed to will his feet to keep moving – but he did. All he wanted to do was disappear. He wanted to be gone. He wanted to fall right there and then, wanted to pass out and never wake up again. He had lost everything. Patches of black seemed to obstruct his vision and he felt a dizziness flood over him. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, he could no longer support himself. The blackness engulfed him and he collapsed.

The commotion downstairs immediately stopped when Mercedes's piercing scream echoed through the room. It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. The circle of kids in the living room watched as Kurt's body fell forward and tumbled down the stairs. They watched in horror as those few seconds stretched out, as Kurt's head violently crashed against the wall and then against the corner of the bottom step. By the time his body had finally reached the floor, everyone had run to his side.

Finn was the first at his side. His heart was racing and he could already feel tears brimming at his eyes. "KURT!" He knelt down next to his brother and was about to pull him onto his lap but Tina's hand stopped him.

"N-no, don't move him" she said, her voice shaking. "It c-could be dangerous…"

"Oh my god…he's bleeding." Brittany whispered.

Only the glee club seemed to circle around Kurt, the rest of the attendees had bailed in fear. Everyone seemed too shocked to do or say anything.

"GUYS, STOP STANDING THERE LIKE IDIOTS AND SOMEONE CALL 911!" Artie yelled. Everyone jumped and turned to look at him, but his announcement had brought back the common sense to the room. Puck rushed to the phone in panic and Finn frantically punched in numbers on his cell phone to call Burt. Santana had run to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel to help stop the bleeding, while Tina, Mike, Sam and Lauren tried to clean up the room and hide the empty bottles of beer before the ambulance got there.

"Rachel…where's Blaine?" Quinn asked softly, tears already running down her cheeks. "You need to go find him." Rachel nodded and ran out the door, and Quinn knelt down next to Finn, placing an arm around him for support.

Rachel 's heart was beating against her rib cage, racing a thousand miles per hour as her feet carried her down the street. She could not make sense of anything, her brain hadn't yet registered what had just happened. She simply turned the corner and silently begged that she would find Blaine in time.

And sure enough, there he was, sitting on the side of the curb, nearly a block away. "BLAINE!" Rachel screamed, her voice dripping with fear and urgency. "BLAINE!"

He looked up, alarmed by the raw fear in her voice. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up. Rachel was running towards him and he could already see that her face was a torrent of tears. Dread filled his heart and he held his breath.

"Blaine, it's Kurt!" Rachel breathed as she reached him, her voice far too broken to say anything else. And that was all she needed to say. Without asking, he ran back towards the house, his legs carrying him as if his life depended on it. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears and he could not form coherent thoughts. When he finally reached the house and saw the limp figure lying at the foot of the stairs, he felt his heart drop.

"KURT! KURT!" He screamed as he rushed to his side. The people in the house were a mess. Everyone was crying. Brittany could not be calmed; Puck continued to shout in anger, waiting for the ambulance to get there.

More panicked voices filled the room with shouts, stifled sobs echoed off the walls, but none of cacophony made sense to Kurt. "KURT!" Someone yelled from far away. "KURT!" He could hear more people screaming out his name, fear evident in their tones. But their voices were distant and the pounding in his ears overpowered the noise. He could see people gathered around him with tears streaming down their eyes. But his vision was becoming unfocused and he could barely make out Blaine's figure right next to him. He tried to speak, but something caught his eye. As he reached out to Blaine, he realized something was missing. His bracelet, where had his bracelet gone? He turned his head to look around, but a sharp pain seared through his body. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the pool of blood that surrounded him.

Finn sat in the waiting room with Burt, Carole and Blaine. No one was saying anything. Thankfully, Burt had not mentioned the lack of propriety of the whole situation. He had not yelled nor even chided Finn for going to a party with Kurt behind his back. All he had done was ask what had happened and he had not uttered a single word since. He sat with his face in his hands, leaning on his knees for support. Carole sat beside him, dried tear tracks evident on her face. Blaine sat across them, eyes unfocused and leaning his face against his hand. He had not said a single word either. When Finn had asked where he had gone before Kurt's accident, he wouldn't reply. But it was very clear that both he and Kurt had been crying.

Everyone else had been forced to go home.

After what seemed like hours, the doctor stepped back into the waiting room. Everyone stood up immediately. His grim look didn't bode good news.

"Doctor, how is he?" Burt asked dryly.

"We've just finished stitching up the wound. Thankfully there wasn't sufficient blood loss to cause significant damage, however, I'm sorry to say that your son is in a coma." He let his sentence hang in the air for a few seconds before continuing. "Now, I've seen people come out of comas relatively quickly from injuries worse than that of your son's, so we have high hopes that he'll regain consciousness within the week."

Burt let out a sigh of relief and Carole squeezed his arm. "Will there be any other complications?" He asked.

"For the time being, we cannot be completely sure. It seems that the impact of the injury wasn't too severe so it is very unlikely that he suffered permanent damage, but we won't know for sure until he regains consciousness."

Burt nodded solemnly. "When can we go in to see him?"

"I'll show you to his room."

"I-I better leave…" Blaine mumbled.

"Sweetie, it's alright, you can come in with us…" Carole said softly.

"No, it's fine…it should only be family right now. And I don't really know if I can—" His voice broke before he could finish the sentence. He blinked away the tears that were accumulating. "I'll just come by in the morning…" He whispered, and with a small smile, he left.

"Hey, pretty boy, what's wrong with you?"

Blaine had been sitting down by himself in the choir room, unable to go to class. He looked up as Santana walked through the door.

"What?"

"You heard me, what's wrong with you? It's been exactly a week and you haven't been to the hospital to see Kurt." She said, anger in her voice.

"I just—I can't…" Blaine muttered.

"Well, if the audacious idiot can drag his ass to the hospital to see Kurt, I'm sure you can too."

"What?"

"Yeah, Karofsky's been to see him. How he has the nerve to show up after everything he's done…I don't know. But I've already dealt with that on my own." She gave him a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you weren't skipping class and actually paid attention as you walked through the hallway, you'd know what I'm talking about. I'll just say that I took care of the problem. He got what was coming to him." And with that, Santana left.

Blaine's eyes followed her curiously. He got up and walked out into the hallway. It didn't take him long before realizing what Santana had done. All of the walls and lockers were plastered with posters of Karofsky's face with the words "I'm in the closet" in bold, black letters. His jaw dropped.

"You and your friends are going to pay big time for this one."

Blaine turned his head and saw Karofsky walking down the empty hallway towards him. When he reached the choir room, he merely smirked, and walked on. Blaine wasn't sure what was more daunting; Karofsky's threat or his lack of response to being outed. Either way, he didn't want to find out what would happen.

That same afternoon, Rachel managed to convince him to go to the hospital. Burt and Carole were busy with work and Finn was going to drop by the house to pick up some of Kurt's things and take them to the hospital.

As they walked through the revolving doors and into the lobby, Blaine braced himself. The fact of the matter was that he was still hurt. He had seen his boyfriend kissing Karofsky; he was conflicted. He was deeply hurt, and even more frustrated that he could not be openly angry at Kurt. He was consumed with worry, fear, anger and pain all at once and he wasn't sure if he was ready to see him again.

But Rachel dragged him into the elevator and to the sixth floor. She pulled him all the way until they reached the door of Kurt's room. Rachel gave Blaine's hand a squeeze. "Are you ready?"

Blaine shook his head, but took a deep breath, braced himself, and pushed the door open. His eyes immediately fell on the pale boy lying in the hospital bed. His heart seemed to ache both with longing and the pang of betrayal. But he could not help himself but feel lured – his feet carried him almost automatically to the boy's bedside. He felt the tears brimming again, but he forced them back. Rachel pulled up a chair behind Blaine and gently sat him down.

"How long do you think it'll be until he wakes up…?" She asked, looking sadly at him.

"I don't know…"

"Blaine…I know it's none of my business, but at the party…I sort of saw what happened. I followed you and Kurt. What were you fighting about?"

Blaine stayed silent. He was not sure whether he wanted to say the dreaded words out loud – it seemed like it would be too final; like admitting it would make everything ten times worse. But at the same time, he was aching to let the words out, hoping someone would understand that he couldn't help but feel angry, even if his boyfriend was comatose.

"Kurt kissed Karofsky." He said, his voice monotone.

"What?" Rachel hissed in disbelief.

"I don't want to talk about it right now…I just…" He couldn't finish his sentence. Rachel merely put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Well…you know, when Kurt's dad was sick, we sang him songs…maybe you could sing him a song too…"

Blaine shot her a look, but she only smiled encouragingly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sang.

He could feel the hot tears racing down his cheek, but he continued, willing his voice not to break.

The image of Kurt kissing Karofsky shot back into his mind and he had to fight back a sob.

Without warning, he reached for Kurt's hand and squeezed it. And Kurt squeezed back. Blaine's head shot up. Kurt's eyes were fluttering open and Rachel ran to the other side of the bed, squealing. Blaine quickly wiped his face with his free hand and scooted closer. No one said a word, they merely waited for Kurt to take in his surroundings. When his eyes had finally adjusted to the light, he looked from Rachel to Blaine, and back again. He became aware that he was holding someone's hand and he turned back to Blaine.

"Who are you?" He whispered croakily.

Blaine let go of his hand.