TRIGGER WARNING –

The following chapter contains violence, coarse language and sexually explicit scenes - including non-consensual sexual acts.

This fic is rated 'M' for this reason. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.

Chapter 15

The night was eerily soundless apart from the steady dull thud of music that could be heard from inside the gymnasium. The sky was pitch black dark, with only a few stars shining in the distance. The grey clouds that lingered in the night sky made the cool February evening appear dreary. The light breeze flowing through town was just enough to make the trees sway gently and send a slight shiver up Blaine's spine.

He shuddered and pulled his arms into his torso, momentarily scolding himself for not bringing along a jacket. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and an orange and blue-striped dress shirt. It was his favorite shirt. He loved the way the collar sat just below his chin when he had all of the buttons done up. He didn't get a chance to wear it as often as he'd like. His father had told him that it wasn't formal enough to wear to any of the fancy dinner parties he was often forced to attend. But tonight was different. He'd known from the moment that he'd made plans to attend this dance that it would be his blue and orange shirt that he would wear. Something about it just made him feel relaxed. He didn't have to feel self-conscious or nervous. He could just be himself.

"Are you cold?" A deep voice interrupted his thoughts from beside him as he walked through the parking lot of the Westerville High School.

Blaine shook his head and smiled. "No, I'm good. I just should have brought my coat with me."

The second boy returned Blaine's smile and shrugged. "Do you want my suit jacket? That's the proper thing for the guy to offer, isn't it?"

Blaine blushed and looked down to the ground. He chose not to answer.

"What?" The voice said with a chuckle. "You're the one who asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Doesn't that make you the girl?"

Blaine flushed an even darker shade of red as he shook his head.

"Jake... we agreed to go together."

The taller teen snickered and bumped his shoulder against Blaine's.

"I'm just messing with you Blaine. I appreciate you convincing me to go. It was actually kinda fun."

Blaine sighed. It hadn't been an easy decision to attend the dance. Although he and Jake had merely kept to themselves for the majority of the night, they were still cautious of announcing the fact that they'd actually showed up together.

Westerville, Ohio was a small town. Coming out as a gay teenager in a small town had not been a particularly enjoyable experience. Technically, Blaine wasn't really 'out' either. As far as he knew, only a handful of people from school had knowledge of his secret. He still heard whispers in the hallways as he walked to class every day and occasionally found homophobic slurs drawn on his locker. Once, he'd been unceremoniously deposited into the girls change room – immediately following gym class.

That particular experience hadn't gone over very well with anyone.

Blaine hadn't exactly wanted to expose his secret to his friends at school. He wasn't overly popular to begin with; he had a handful of friends that he'd made back in kindergarten, and he was hesitant to risk ruining the relationships he'd groomed over the years.

But he finally decided to come clean and he'd confided in his 'best friend' a few weeks prior to the dance. It hadn't gone well. At all.

~~~ FLASHBACK ~~~

Blaine and Alex had been walking home after school that fateful day. Both boys were bundled up in scarves, hats and mittens as a bitter January wind whipped through the air.

Alex was rambling on about the new PS3 game that he was going to play that night until he noticed that Blaine hadn't been paying him an ounce of attention.

"Dude… what the hell?"

Blaine snapped his head up, facing his best friend with a guilty look written into his young features.

"Sorry Alex, what were you saying?"

Alex scoffed. "What's up with you? You've been AWOL all week."

Blaine took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any.

He stopped walking and looked over at the other boy. "I have to tell you something."

"Oh god. You're not pregnant are you?" Alex said with a laugh.

Blaine's bushy eyebrows knit in confusion. "What? No."

He straightened his posture and looked back over to the other boy who was still enjoying a chuckle at his own attempt of a joke.

"I'm serious Alex. It's important."

"Okay dude, chill. I was just fucking around. What's up?"

"I…" Blaine started.

This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.

"Blaine, spit it out. My PS3 is calling my name."

Blaine looked down at the ground. "I-I'm… I'm gay."

Silence.

Blaine kept his eyes focused on the ground, waiting for the backlash. Instead, he was surprised when Alex began laughing hysterically. He looked up at the other boy with wide eyes.

Not the reaction he'd been anticipating.

"Bah ha ha ha! Oh Blaine! You're such a dork! I thought you were being serious for a minute."

Blaine's heart tightened in his chest. This wasn't good.

Alex, still laughing to the point where he now held his aching abdominal muscles with both hands, suddenly looked back over to Blaine, realizing that the smaller boy had not cracked a smile.

"Blaine… you are fucking with me, right?"

Blaine stood motionless, unsure of how to respond. Finally, after several nervous moments, he gently shook his head.

Alex's eyes opened wide and he instantly stopped laughing. The smile disappeared from his face.

"You know we were all just fucking with you at lunch today about that fag in the movie, right? No one really thinks you're gay."

Blaine swallowed the large lump in his throat with great difficulty. He wondered to himself how many times he was going to have to hear that horrible word spoken out loud. Maybe he should have kept this to himself after all.

"It's true, Alex. I am."

Alex's face turned white. "You're a… I mean…you like… what… when…?" He stammered, subconsciously backing away from his friend.

Blaine noticed his retreat and his stomach clenched even tighter.

"I-I don't know. I guess I always have been. I j-just finally decided to accept it." He stammered, trying to answer all of the unasked questions that lingered so obviously in the air between the two adolescents.

"Blaine. We're fourteen. Maybe it's just a phase?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"It's not a phase, Alex. I think I've known for quite a while." Blaine countered, growing increasingly more uncomfortable.

"Dude… you told me the other day that you thought Allie Harper was hot."

"She is." Blaine frowned. "Alex, I'm gay, not blind. She's a pretty girl."

"Oh god. You're not like…into me, are you? Cause that is… really not cool."

Blaine sighed. He really should have kept this to himself.

"Alex… I…"

He was interrupted. "Blaine look, I have to go. I just remembered that my mom needed me home right after school."

"Okay." Blaine answered hesitantly. "Can I call you later?"

"No." It was a quick reply. Too quick, and the one syllable shattered Blaine's heart into even more tiny pieces. Alex was quick to add, "I have to study for my history exam next week." But the damage was done.

Blaine couldn't speak, so he merely nodded his head sadly. Although he'd hoped to avoid this scenario, he wasn't completely surprised.

His throat tightened as he watched his former best friend walk away without so much as a glance behind him.

~~~ END OF FLASHBACK ~~~

"Blaine? Are you sure you're okay? You got pretty quiet all of a sudden." Jake sounded worried.

"Huh? Sorry, I'm good. I was just thinking." Blaine sighed.

"You sure?"

Blaine was silent for a few minutes before he took a deep breath and looked up at the taller teen.

"How long have you been out?"

Jake looked slightly surprised at the boldness of Blaine's question. He'd only known Blaine for a couple of weeks. The curly haired boy was a year younger than him and one grade below him in school. He'd noticed that Blaine had been getting bullied a lot in the past few weeks; graffiti on his locker, shoves from upperclassmen between periods and name calling in the hallways. He'd even heard that Blaine had involuntarily ended up in the girl's locker room one afternoon so Jake had taken it upon himself to introduce himself to the kid. Not that he was a complete pro at 'all things gay', but at least he'd been around the block a time or two, maybe he could give Blaine some tips.

Plus – the kid was pretty cute.

"Well…" Jake reminisced. "I told my parents when I was eleven. But most people at school didn't really clue in until the next year."

"How did you tell them?" Blaine asked. "Your parents, I mean."

Jake released a deep laugh that made Blaine look up at him, surprised.

"We were sitting at the dinner table one night and my dad asked me to pass the peas." Jake said with a smile. "I did. Then I asked him if it was okay if I kissed a boy in my class."

Blaine's eyes widened. "What did he say?"

"Well. He dropped the peas." Jake said with another laugh. "At first I think he thought I was kidding. My mom was the one that clued in that I was being serious. I told them that there was a boy in my class that I wanted to be boyfriends with."

Blaine nodded, urging him to continue.

"It was weird. I think they assumed I'd grow out of it. But that was four years ago, and look at me now - taking a boy to a dance."

Blaine felt his cheeks flush again as he looked down to the ground. If he was telling the truth, he hadn't invited Jake to the dance as a 'date'. He was a nice enough guy, sure, but Blaine had ulterior motives. He just wanted someone to talk to. He knew that Jake was 'out and proud' and all that, but Blaine was more impressed by the fact that Jake had managed to get through high school without too much trouble so far. It could have something to do with the fact that Jake was the star center of the school's hockey team. He was a popular athlete. That was his 'in' factor. The fact that he was gay was apparently an afterthought to most of his classmates.

Blaine was the weird, quiet kid who read books all the time and kept mostly to himself. He was afraid that if he came out publically that his life would be a living hell.

"So your parents are…okay with it now?"

Jake laughed again. "My mom runs the Westerville chapter of 'PFLAG'."

Wow, I wish.

"You haven't told your parents yet, I'm assuming?" Jake asked, looking out across the football field to the North of the school. A number of fluffy snowflakes had begun to fall gracefully to the ground.

Blaine scoffed. "I don't think that will go well."

Jake raised an eyebrow, indicating that Blaine was free to continue if he wanted to, but not to feel pressured into talking about something that would make him uncomfortable.

Blaine acknowledged the look and appreciated the gesture.

"My dad is… pretty old school. My older brother told him that he wanted to be an actor instead of a lawyer like him and he flipped out. They fought, my brother took off, and they haven't spoken since."

"Ouch."

"That was six years ago." Blaine added with a shrug.

"Wow. Yeah… that's kinda crappy." Jake admitted. "But maybe he's changed. You're his son. How pissed could he possibly be?"

Blaine sighed. He knew his dad hadn't changed. They were watching TV just the other night and there was a gay couple on the program they'd been tuned into. Blaine's dad had grabbed the remote and changed the channel immediately, muttering something about the 'sanctity of marriage'.

"He hasn't changed."

Anxious to break the awkward silence, Jake stopped pacing in the parking lot and glanced at his watch as the two boys sat down on the snow-dusted curb.

"Speaking of my 'daddy dearest'…where the hell is he?"

Jake's dad had offered to pick up the two boys following the dance and drive Blaine home. It was twenty past eleven now and Blaine had an 11:30 curfew.

Jake pulled out his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Oh shit! He called me a few minutes ago but my phone was on mute." He said, dialing his voicemail. He listened to a message for a few minutes before deleting the voicemail and looking back at Blaine.

"I guess he got a flat tire on the way here. He's going to be a bit yet." Jake informed, standing back up and dusting the snow off his rear end. "But he said he called your parents and they know you're going to be a little late."

"Oh, okay." Blaine shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wanna walk to the gas station and grab a coke or something? I have a few bucks in my pocket." Jake said. "It'll pass the time. His message said he'd be a little while. He's waiting on Triple A."

"Sure." Blaine said, standing and wiping the snow from the back of his jeans.

The two boys walked down the sidewalk towards the gas station. It was only about six blocks away and it was a relatively pleasant night – even if it was a little breezy.

They made small talk as they walked, mostly about how school was going for Blaine. They were both in the middle of cramming for final exams. The semester had finished on Thursday and exams were scheduled for the following week. Blaine would be entering tenth grade next year, so he knew he had to keep his marks up for the second semester of this school year. He was a good student. Not necessarily straight A's, but definitely an 'A' average in all of his classes combined.

"So…" Blaine started, looking for another topic of conversation. "How is hockey going this year?"

"Pretty good. We finish up the season in April. We did okay this year, but we probably won't make the playoffs. Maybe next year we can…"

Blaine looked up at his friend as he suddenly dropped his conversation mid-sentence. Jake's eyes were wide as he looked over Blaine's left shoulder.

He was about to turn and look at what had so obviously caught Jake's eye when the taller boy held and arm out to stop him.

"Don't turn around."

It was ominous. Blaine had never heard the boy's voice go as deep. He sounded… almost feral.

A shiver ran up Blaine's spine and it had nothing to do with the cool breeze that was drifting by.

"Jake?" He asked cautiously. "What is it?"

The other boy nudged Blaine in front of him and picked up the pace of his stride. "Nothing. Come on, let's get to the store."

Blaine shook his head, confused at his friend's sudden outburst but decided that it must be nothing. He continued walking in front of Jake until he could hear heavy footsteps rushing up behind them.

"Jake?" He said, turning to face the taller teen, only to once again be re-directed. This time Jake hustled him down an adjoining alley. It was darker here, having no streetlamps to provide a clear path for the two boys.

"Blaine. We might have a problem."

Blaine was about to stop and ask what the hell was going on but Jake kept pushing him forward down he dark and damp alley. There was a horrible smell emanating from one of the buildings to his left. It smelled like a combination of cleaning solvents and rotten Chinese food. The smell, blended with the present circumstances had Blaine's stomach tied up in knots.

"Don't stop walking." Jake instructed sternly. "We're being followed."

What the fuck is this? A spy movie?

Blaine followed the orders from the older boy and carried on down the alley. He hadn't heard the footsteps behind them since they'd turned off the main sidewalk.

"Jake? Who is it?"

"Some guys that don't like me very much."

That didn't appease the butterflies that were whizzing around in Blaine's stomach.

He didn't ask any more questions. Jake had taken him by the hand and was now leading him in a hurried pace towards the lightened street on the other end of the alley.

They were only twenty feet from the light when two figures approached from the adjacent street.

Shit shit shit.

Jake stopped abruptly, Blaine nearly running smack into his back on the unexpected halt.

"Jake. What's up dude?" A husky voice hollered from where the figures stood in front of the two boys.

Blaine looked up at Jake, anxiously wondering what their next move was going to be.

"Not much man. Just going for a coke. You?" Jake was nervous. Blaine could hear it in his voice.

"Who's your friend?" The voice asked, obviously ignoring Jake's inquiry.

Jake suddenly realized that he was still holding Blaine's hand and suddenly dropped it quickly, as though it was a hot iron.

"Is that your boyfriend Jake?" The second voice was higher pitched, and sounded irritated.

Another shiver crawled up Blaine's spine.

"Blaine. You should go back." Jake whispered.

The shorter boy looked up again at Jake, who even in the dim-light alley, looked incredibly pale.

"What? I'm not going to leave you here."

Jake shook his head.

"This might not be good. These guys are a couple grades ahead of me. They don't think much about my… or… our… 'lifestyle choices'." He indicated the last two words with air quotations.

Blaine was suddenly very aware that the two much older, taller and obviously stronger individuals had been creeping closer and he could now see their faces.

They didn't look impressed.

"I'm not going back without you, Jake." Blaine whispered, trying to maintain the strength in his voice, but he failed miserably. He was freaking out.

"Fuck Blaine, just go. Go back and get a teacher or something."

Oh god. He was serious. This was going to get ugly.

Blaine looked into Jake's eyes and saw nothing staring back at him except fear - pure unadulterated fear. This time Blaine couldn't contain the shudder that racked his body and made his muscles twitch.

He nodded his head silently and began to back away from Jake slowly, towards the direction they'd just come from.

"Hey! Where you goin' fancy pants?"

Blaine's stomach dropped and he turned around to start running back to the school when he smacked directly into a third and apparently very sneaky individual.

He bounced off the large teen with a surprised "oomph" and nearly fell to the ground; except he was hauled up to his feet and his arms were pinned behind his back. A sudden ache surged up both of his shoulders and into his back and neck and he released a pained whimper.

"Leave him alone!" Jake turned towards Blaine, but was jumped from behind by the original two delinquents. The larger of the two grabbed him in a manner identical to how Blaine was being restrained.

Both Blaine and Jake struggled against their captors, but the teens were strong, incredibly strong, and even Jake, a year older than Blaine and easily forty pounds heavier, could not gain the upper hand.

The third teen, a gangly, mousey looking boy with his greasy black hair only slightly hidden under a black wool hat walked up to Jake and without so much of a warning punched him directly in the stomach.

Jake released a loud gasp and doubled over, only being held up by the boy standing behind him.

Blaine was beginning to panic. Three against two. Their odds weren't looking so good.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to see your ugly faggy face around here Walker." The Black-haired boy spat.

Jake was still trying to collect himself after the punch and didn't get an opportunity to speak up before a second blow landed in his face. Blood from his ripped lower lip spilled down the front of his suit jacket and dripped slowly onto the snow-dusted pavement below him.

Blaine struggled against the strong arms of his captor, kicking with his feet and jerking his arms in attempt to get free. The boy simply tightened his grip and pulled Blaine's shoulders further behind him until it felt like they were going to be pulled out of their sockets.

"Arrrgghh!" He howled. "Let. Me. Go!" He struggled harder with each word he grunted through gritted teeth.

"Hmmm… it seems you've chosen yourself a feisty one, Jake." The boy sneered, now turning to face Blaine.

"Steve, please just leave him alone. This is between you and me." Jake's voice sounded pained and he now had a lisp since his lip was deeply cut, blood still seeped down his front.

"What's your name faggot?" Steve asked Blaine as he approached him, prowling around him much like a lion circling its prey.

Blaine couldn't speak. His breaths were coming rapidly and his head was spinning. He looked back to Jake, who was still actively bleeding and the older boy gave him a look with his eyes that spoke only two words, 'I'm sorry'.

A calloused hand grabbed Blaine's chin and forced his head around to look at the greasy-haired Steve.

"I'm talking to you, homo. What's your name?"

Blaine shook his head fiercely, trying to knock the boy's filthy hand from his chin, but to no avail.

His efforts earned Blaine a solid backhand across his right cheek, splitting his own lip in the process.

Tears welled in his eyes and his face stung from the sudden, harsh contact.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Awwww… faggy boy is gonna start crying boys! Look at this little loser!"

A second blow landed against his left eye.

"I said… What is your name?" The boy asked leaning into Blaine close enough so that he could smell his acrid breath, which was laced with cigarette smoke and alcohol.

Blaine struggled to maintain what little composure remained. His face burned like hell and he was growing increasingly sick to his stomach.

"B-Blaine." He squeaked.

"Well B-Blaine," the older boy mimicked with an evil sneer, "I have another question for you… and you better answer this one right away or you and I are gonna have problems, okay?"

Blaine could only nod, several tears sluggishly finding their way down his bruised cheek.

"Are you a fag?"

Blaine's blood ran cold. His dampened eyes darted to his sides, trying to find an escape route, but there was none.

A punch to his stomach brought the nausea to a maximum and he had to focus his breathing to force himself not to get physically sick.

"I. Asked. You. A. Question!" Each word was accentuated with another ruthless punch to Blaine's gut.

By the fourth blow, Blaine was seeing black spots in his vision and was so unsteady on his feet that the boy standing behind him had taken on his full weight. His head was so foggy that he hardly heard the screams coming from Jake only several feet to his left.

"Please! Steve, stop this! You're going to kill him!"

Steve reached up and once again, place his rough fingers under Blaine's chin, bringing his face back up to meet his own.

"Are you gonna answer?"

Blaine blinked hazily. What was the question again?

"Are you a faggot?"

Another punch.

"Do you like taking it up the ass?"

Another punch.

Blaine's chest and abdomen were on fire.

"Answer me!" The boy shouted, saliva flying from his filthy mouth and landing on Blaine's face. "Answer me and I will stop hitting you!"

Blaine was crying. He wasn't sure when the tears had started freely flowing, but he realized that he'd completely lost control of himself. He was blubbering incoherently, drool and blood dripping down from the gash in his upper lip.

Jake was screaming at Steve to stop the beating, but his howls fell on deaf ears. The boy behind Jake tightened his grip on him and whispered into his ear, "Shut the fuck up or we're going to kill your little bitch!"

Jake fell silent instantly.

Steve however, was still standing in front of Blaine and was growing increasingly angry that the small boy still refused to answer his question. He moved in close and reached up and placed his arms around Blaine's shoulders as though he was giving the boy a hug.

He leaned his head up into Blaine's neck turned his mouth next to his ear and whispered harshly,

"Tell me you like it up the ass and I will leave you alone."

He then brought his knee up and swiftly connected with Blaine's abdomen once again, causing the boy to scream out in agony.

The teen behind him let Blaine slip to the ground, where he landed with a dull thud. He lay in the filth of the alley writhing in pain and gasping to keep his breath. His respirations were labored and harsh sounding. Steve leaned down next to him and lifted up his head by cruelly grabbing a handful of soggy curls.

"Say it."

Blaine continued to struggle to breathe.

"Say it."

The nausea finally hit its breaking point and Blaine threw up, retching the contents of his stomach onto the snow covered ground beneath him, and all over Steve's shoes.

"You little fucker!" He screamed. "Look what you fucking did!" He slammed Blaine's head downwards, where it connected with the frozen ground, bringing stars dancing into his vision.

Steve stood up and delivered a hard kick to Blaine's middle, the force of which was so strong, that it knocked the boy sprawling onto his back.

Blaine laid on the cold, damp ground, coughing and choking on the blood and saliva that filled his airway. He was gasping to get enough air into his lungs, which were burning like wildfire with every ounce of effort.

Steve knelt down besides Blaine and pulled a black knife out of his coat pocket. He slowly opened the blade and flashed it in front of Blaine's vision and with the blackest eyes Blaine had ever seen, lowered the blade to rest on Blaine's throat, directly below his Adam's apple.

"Say it or I'm going to cut your throat."

Blaine sputtered, causing more blood to come spraying from his mouth. He could feel the droplets of blood landing back on his own face and begin dripping down his chin and bruised cheeks. He suddenly felt his lower body grow very warm, but was too dazed to understand what had happened to him.

"Tell me you like it up the ass."

Tears flowed freely down his face, mixing with the blood and saliva as he struggled to find his voice.

"I-I like it…" He cried, feeling the blade press deeper into his skin with every syllable causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down.

"Go on…" Steve encouraged. "Say it."

"U-up the… t-the ass…" Blaine sobbed, clenching his eyes closed and waiting for the blade to slice through his delicate skin at any moment.

To his surprise, Steve stood then and walked several steps away from where Blaine lay, still sputtering and sobbing uncontrollably.

"There! See! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

By this point, Jake had tear-stained cheeks and was physically exhausted from trying to fight his way out of his attacker's embrace. He had desperately wanted to get to Blaine and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

But deep down, Jake knew that everything was going to be far from okay.

"You see Jake? That's all it takes? You just gotta be honest. If you had been honest with me from the start we wouldn't be here right now. If you had told me you were a fucking faggot, your boyfriend over here wouldn't have just pissed his pants."

Blaine suddenly realized where the warmth had come from and his stomach plummeted in shame. The nausea had returned and he was deathly afraid that he might be sick once again.

"Steve, I'm sorry okay! Please just leave him alone!" Jake begged. "It's not his fault. Please, just stop hurting him."

"No." Steve sneered. "You know what Jake? I'm going to fuck him up and you get to watch. This is your fault, and I want you to think about that when you hear him screaming for help."

Steve walked over to a green dumpster several feet away and grabbed a broken beer bottle that was lying next to a pile of filthy trash. He dumped the remaining liquid from the bottle and walked back over to where Blaine lay on the ground.

"You like it up the ass Blaine? Let's see how much you take up the ass."

Blaine ignored the screaming hot pains that were piercing his abdomen and sides with every inch he moved and began to flail around on the ground, screaming uncontrollably as he realized what was about to happen.

"Noooo, please… Jake! Please help me!"

"Kent, fucking hold him down!" Steve ordered, pointing to the teen that had previously been holding Blaine's arms.

Blaine was blubbering and screaming and sobbing as the older boy rolled him onto his stomach and pinned his arms down to his sides, effectively immobilizing him.

His screams became more desperate when he felt Steve kneel between his legs and slip and hand under his crotch, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans. It took him only a minute to unbutton them and lower the zipper before he was able to pull the dampened denim down below Blaine's ass. The chill of the evening air was shocking as it hit the exposed skin of the boy's backside.

Blaine screamed louder and tried to kick out his legs, in attempt to get the older boy out from between them.

"P-please don't do this…" He cried. "Please, I'm b-begging you…"

Steve grinned an evil grin and re-adjusted his position, now straddling the boy, effectively restraining him on the cold, unforgiving ground.

"But Blaine, I thought you liked it up the ass. I'm only trying to get you off!" The teen mocked.

Blaine blubbered incoherently again as he felt the boy slide a hand down his exposed ass crack. The hand moved farther down and separated his cheeks, filling Blaine with even more of the cool evening air.

By this point Blaine was hyperventilating and with each pained and labored breath, additional black spots found their way into his vision.

Please let me pass out. Please let me pass out.

Everything was suddenly stilled. It was as though someone had pressed a mute button and all was silent. Blaine picked up his head, and through the fog he could see Jake still struggling against his captor, his mouth open screaming silent profanities, while tears streamed down his face and mixed with the blood around his mouth and nose.

Blaine unexpectedly felt the frigid, inflexible neck of the broken beer bottle press up against his flesh and everything came crashing back down to him. He stopped struggling. It was of no use. His body was so beaten and battered that it was a hopeless cause.

This was it; he was going to be de-flowered right here in this filthy alley, by a group of homophobic teenagers with a broken beer bottle.

He laid his face down on the cool pavement and let his mind wander, trying to send his mind somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

He thought about the summers his family had spent out at the lake when he was younger. They hadn't done it as much now that he was older and his father was so busy with work, but back in the day, it was what Blaine looked forward to the most. The old tire swing that hung from a tree branch over the water. The late night campfires and roasting marshmallows. His grandfather strumming his guitar as they sat around the campfire and sang songs together. Those moments were undoubtedly the happiest of Blaine's existence.

A burning pain brought him back to reality as the threaded lip of the bottle was forced through the tight ring of muscles in his ass. The friction made it burn even more as Steve struggled to force the bottle past Blaine's dry, tight, muscular entrance.

Blaine clenched his muscles as hard as he could, trying in vain to prevent the bottle from entering his tense asshole, but Steve brought his second hand up and parted Blaine's cheeks, allowing for an easier entry. Blaine suddenly felt the frozen glass leave his flesh and thought for a moment that he was going to be spared. His stomach vaulted and he visibly cringed when he both heard and felt Steve expel a large gob of mucus from his mouth into Blaine's ass before re-attempting to force his way in with the long neck of the beer bottle.

The pain-induced black spots returned to Blaine's vision and he let them come, silently praying for the blackness to consume him.

Jake was desperate. He had to do something. The screams coming from Blaine were piercing his soul.

He'd never forget those screams for the rest of his life.

"Steve!" He screamed. This was his last resort. "Why can't you just admit that you're the gay one?"

Steve tensed up and released his hold on the bottle, letting it fall out of his hand and roll away from Blaine. He looked up at Jake, shooting him daggers from his eyes.

"What the FUCK did you just say?"

"You heard me." Jake gulped. His plan had worked. But perhaps – a little too well?

Steve stood up and grabbed the broken bottle from the ground on his way over to where Jake was being held up by the third attacker. He raised the bottle up and without warning, brought it down hard against the side of Jake's skull.

A sickening crack was heard as the near-frozen bottle exploded, bits of amber colored glass flying in every direction.

Jake slumped forward, but was hoisted back up to his feet by the two assistants.

"Kent, Ben, hold him up. He's fucking dead."

Steve reached down and grabbed a piece of pipe that had been lying next to the dumpster. He brought it down over the back of Jake's head several times, gritting his teeth and muttering a single word with each blow, "Accuse. Me. Of. Being. A. Faggot!"

With the last blow, the two boys holding Jake up released his arms and allowed the teen to slump to the ground. He hit the cement face first and his body immediately began convulsing when it connected with the unforgiving ground. His body seized, all muscles contracting and then relaxing simultaneously as he flailed around on the ground almost bonelessly.

The two teens that had dropped him looked at each other in horror.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

'That shit is fucked up. Let's get the hell outta here."

They didn't even bother asking their apparent ringleader for permission before they turned and hightailed it out of the alley.

Steve stood up and watched almost neurotically as the boy continued to convulse on the ground next to his feet.

He delivered one last solid kick to the face of the thrashing boy on the ground before he too, turned around and promptly ran away.

Jake's body stopped convulsing and once again, all was silent.

Blaine struggled to open his eyes. It had been such a deep and enjoyable sleep that he didn't want to wake up. A putrid smell wafted in front of his nose and a shiver streaked up his spine as he realized that he was laying face down on something hard. And he was cold. Freezing fucking cold.

Had he fallen out of bed?

As he picked up his head, he was quickly reminded that his body had been severely abused. Even the slightest movement caused him an excruciating amount of pain.

What the fuck happened?

His body screamed with every breath he tried to take. His head was foggy and he could hardly find the strength to keep his eyes open.

He moved his head to his left and the scene before him sent waves of panic thorough his veins.

Jake was laying a mere five feet from him, battered and beaten. Blood was oozing from several wounds on his face and skull, and Blaine was certain he could see some dripping out of his right ear. A bright red stain had eerily melted through the white snow around the boy's skull, as he lay there utterly motionless.

Blaine's breath caught as he tried to maneuver himself into a crawling position, and he settled instead on merely trying to pull himself forward using only his arms. His lower half shrieked in agony as his exposed hips rotated slightly with each pull of his arms.

The frozen asphalt burned the skin on his abdomen and chest as he inched his way towards his friend's brutalized frame. Every inch caused Blaine to feel an unbearable amount of pain surge throughout his entire body, and several times, he had to pause and close his eyes, afraid that he might pass out once again.

Blaine had edged to within a foot from Jake's head now, and he could see that he had been unfortunately correct; there was blood oozing from both of his ears. He swallowed a lump of fear and continued on, his hands and elbows now raw from the friction burns of the ice-covered pavement.

"J-jake…" The weakness of own voice startled him.

Still sprawled on his stomach, Blaine reached his hand out and felt his friend's face, it was cool and felt very sweaty. Blaine lowered his hand to Jake's mouth and was relieved when he felt the slightest flow of air connect with the back of his fingers.

He was still breathing.

Blaine moved several more inches and reached into Jake's back pocket, praying to anyone who would listen that his phone would still be there, undamaged.

His heart soared for the first time as his swollen fingers discovered the cold plastic device and he slowly pulled it out of the pocket. Just as he had cleared it from underneath the fabric, the muscles in his fingers twitched and he dropped the phone. The sound of plastic connecting with frozen pavement was harsh and seemed so incredibly loud in the silence of the alleyway that it caused Blaine to flinch. He picked it back up with a trembling hand, afraid that it would be damaged and was relieved to see that when he pressed the small button on the bottom of the device, the screen lit up.

Blaine sent a silent thank you to deities unknown, and brought the phone back to where his own head was now resting in the snow. His strength was diminished, but he knew if there was any chance in getting himself and Jake out of here, he had to make himself alert enough to call for help.

A shiver slithered up his spine as he slid his trembling finger across the locking feature on the home screen, silently planning what he would say to the emergency dispatcher when the call was connected.

His vision was blurred, but his heart sank and he angrily threw the phone back down to the pavement in frustrated defeat when the phone changed screens, asking for a passcode.

Blaine woke up in a panicked cold sweat. He sat up in his bed suddenly, earning himself a painful groan as his shoulder and ribs ached. It was a frequent occurrence for him to wake up several times in the middle of the night screaming after suffering a similar nightmare, but this one had been particularly vivid.

He reached down subconsciously and ran a finger across the wide scar that stretched from the side of his torso to his umbilicus.

These nightmares had been plaguing him for months since the attack. Sometimes he was blessed and would only have to re-live the painful memories once or twice a week, but lately, he'd been waking up several times each night, gasping for breath and holding his arms tight around himself.

It took him several minutes to re-acclimatize himself before he was able to slow his breathing and lay back down for a few more hours of restless slumber.

Author's Note:

Oh Blaine… I'm sorry that I keep doing this to you.

Forgive me, my beloved readers, I'm afraid the worst is yet to come… :(

-RH