Blaine pressed himself against the bathroom door as he clasped his hands over his ears. He could hear their shouting as if they were in the bathroom with him. His phone was on the floor between his feet in front of him. He flinched instinctively as he heard the sound of a smashing vase. This always happened. His parents would argue, they would shout, they would break something, someone would scream more, then Blaine would usually yell at them to stop which would earn him a back-handed slap from his father for daring to defy them, then his mother would scream more at his father for touching him and Blaine would go to his room and curl up under his sheets and hope that it wouldn't happen again. Now, Blaine didn't want to go downstairs. He just wanted to stay in the bathroom and wait it out. Blaine, with his entire body shaking, picked up his phone quickly typed out a text.

"They're fighting again. I can't go anywhere without hearing them shout." He sent it to his boyfriend, needing the comfort. He knew that Kurt would immediately call him back with comforting words, and soothing voice. He'd make things right. He heard pounding footsteps coming upstairs and he tried to make himself smaller. His mother's shrieking voice reached his ears. This fight was about how his mother wanted to redesign the kitchen. Their fights often went from being something simple to being something big.

Ten minutes went by without a text from Kurt. Blaine felt himself slipping further downward. Finally his phone lit up. He bit his lip as he looked down to read it.

"Kurt left his phone at home. He's having a party with the Glee Club." Blaine's lip quivered. The phone fell from his hands and hit the ground with a loud clatter. Kurt was with the Glee Club, without Blaine. Why wasn't Blaine invited to this party? He was part of the New Directions now. Did they still think of him as the enemy? Blaine felt tears run down his cheeks as he pulled his knees to his chest. Kurt didn't want to hang out with him, he didn't want Blaine to be with his friends. Blaine wiped his eyes as yet another thing crashed. He heard his mother scream something and then heard the exact signs of someone being slapped. He looked up and his eyes fell on the medicine cabinet. He pushed himself up and opened it. The bottle of Ambien stared at him. His mother had recently got it to help her sleep through the night. Right next to it was a bottle of Melatonin. He remembered what his mother had told him when she had gotten it prescribed to her that he needed to help her keep watch so that she wouldn't take anything else with it because it could be fatal.

Excellent. He glanced down at the phone on the floor, as if willing it to ring, silently begging Kurt to call him, to stop him. Nothing came. He picked up the bottle of Ambien and opened it. He poured the pills into his hand and looked down at his phone again. Nothing. He quickly crushed the pills into his hand and swallowed the powder. He blinked a few times, feeling tired already. He gripped the sides of the sink in an attempt to steady himself as he grabbed the bottle of Melatonin that his parents had gotten for him. He quickly took all of the pills that were left and he blinked a few times as the room began getting blurry. He slouched against the bathtub, and glanced at his phone. Nothing.

Blaine tried to keep his eyes open, but he was so tired now. Everyone hated him. His parents hated him, his 'friends' hated him, Kurt hated him. Kurt hating him was what got to him most. Kurt was the person who helped him when he needed it so now... He didn't think he could handle it if Kurt hated him, so he didn't handle it. Instead, he took himself out of the game. He managed to pick up his phone to text Kurt one last time.

"I love you. Even if you didn't love me back. You won't have to worry anymore though. I'm sorry." The phone slipped from his hand as he slumped over and let himself fall into the darkness. The shouting stopped and a knock came to the door, but Blaine couldn't react. He was gone. There was a mess of shouting, sirens, and a glasz-eyed angel with tear rimmed eyes but Blaine didn't react to any of it. He was gone, he had succumbed to the darkness. A smooth hand ran over his face, pushing the strands of hair out of his lifeless face, trying and begging him to come back. It was in vain.

Blaine Anderson had passed.

Kurt Hummel cried.