The hallway is empty as Kurt steps inside his old school. His shoes clip sharply against the cold linoleum. He can hear the sounds of the students and teachers faintly emanating from the classrooms. So many memories in these halls. Good and bad. Lost in thought, he almost slips. Looking down, he sees some colored water. Remnants of a hastily wiped up slushy. I wonder who delivered it, Kurt thinks with a sigh, and who was the recipient.

The thought sends Kurt walking faster, rage building and building until it flares up, sparking a boiling furnace, making his very eyes crackle like lightning.

He's going to change this.

Kurt reaches Principal's Figgins office and barges in without knocking, slamming the door behind him. Figgins is in there of course, it's as if he lives there.

The McKinley principal looks up and seeing Kurt smiles, "Oh hello Mr. Hummel, welcome back!" Kurt looks wordlessly down at him, blue eyes flashing. "Mr. Hummel?"

"My boyfriend," Kurt emphasizes, "Blaine Anderson is being bullied. And I need it to stop. And those responsible punished."

Figgins sets his hands on the desk, lacing his fingers together before sighing, "Slushies are not on the school board's approved list of suspend worthy weapons."

"I don't think a slushy could have done this," Kurt spits, slamming the file down on the Principal's desk.

Hesitantly, Figgins slides the photos out and flips threw them, inhaling sharply. Images of Blaine's bruised body inked into the crisp pages in vibrant color. Every detail laid in scorching clarity onto every page. As he goes through the small stack, Kurt continues with a steady voice, "Now I have seriously thought about reporting this. Or giving these photos to the school board, or CNN. But I don't think you want that."

Kurt stalks closer to the desk, looking down at Figgins who sits frozen in his seat. His hands shake and he grips the edge of the desk tightly, the wood digging into his palms as he snaps, "This is not acceptable. And I'm not the kid who walked into this school years ago so don't you dare ignore this.  This time I'm not going to take the damn high road. I've seen my boyfriend in a hospital once, and I will not be doing it again. I will do something if you do not. This school is supposed to make kids-" His voice begins to tremble with withheld rage, "safe. And if you cannot create that environment the board will find someone suitable to replace you, I'll make sure of that."

Figgins carefully sets the photos back down on the desk, as if they'll explode and set fire to the school. "We have a zero-tolerance physical violence policy..." he whispers meekly.

Kurt scoffs, "Apparently not everyone knows. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to tell every teacher to keep their eye out. You are going to stay afterschool and monitor what happens and anyone seen harming another student faces an automatic suspension. And you make that clear to the entire student body as well. You are also going to wipe Blaine's record of all those misconduct infractions because they were clearly products of self defense. And you definitely are not going to suspend him for fighting because he has to right to defend himself if you fail to do so. If this doesn't happen then I'm going to the board, and I'm bring those photos and my boyfriend with me." Figgins nods slowly and begins to return the photos to the file when Kurt interrupts his movement, "Oh you can keep those. I have copies at home."

Kurt turns to leave when Figgins calls out weakly, "Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes Principal Figgins?"

"I didn't know. If I had-"

"I know you didn't. You don't know about a lot of things that happen in this school. But the thing is, I don't care," Kurt hisses, "It's your job to know."

Figgins forces a smile, "You would make a good lawyer Mr. Hummel."

Kurt laughs humorlessly, "Oh I'm not sure about that, but you can be sure that I will find one if anyone in this school lays a finger on my boyfriend again." And with that Kurt leaves, slamming the door behind him a crash, leaving Figgins staring after him in shock. 

-

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The lunch bell rings loudly throughout the halls as Kurt weaves through the mill of students who are eager for lunch and eager to escape class. Kurt smiles. The scene is so familiar. But is it just him, or are the hallways quieter?

Shaking his head, Kurt reaches the choir room. His breath catches in his throat as he looks into the room. The chairs. The piano. The band. That window he always looked out of. It's all the same. Oh the things that happened here. The laughs, the shouts, the tears, the speeches. It's as if nothing changed. There's Finn, Mercedes, Puck, Quinn and Mike on the seats, while Rachel buzzes about ordering people around and perfecting the scene while Santana scoffs in response. All the returning students are back, and they chat amongst themselves.

It feels like home.

Pizza is spread out on a few empty chairs, and Mr.Schue sets out the plates. Kurt hugs all his old friends and his teacher, and as they wait for the younger members of the New Directions to arrive, they talk excitedly about their college experiences and how it feels to be back.

But Kurt isn't entirely captivated by the conversation, and every couple of seconds his blue eyes flit to the doorway. Watching. And waiting.

Finally, Blaine arrives with Tina and Artie in tow, and the other members of the Glee club only seconds behind. Kurt narrows his eyes when he sees that Blaine's wearing a different shirt than earlier in the morning.

"SURPRISE!" The returning students scream, jumping out of their seats.

Kurt watches Blaine receive hugs with a careful eyes as he deals out his own. Once everyone is reunited and has a full plate, everyone sits in a sorry excuse of a circle and talks, relishing every moment together as the dysfunctional but loving family they are.

Blaine hesitantly makes his way to Kurt. The boys look at each other for a second. "Did you do this?" Blaine asks quietly. Kurt nods. "Why?"

"Because once that bell rings for the end of classes, I'm spending every minute of my vacation with you," Kurt replies in a soft voice, "But I knew you wouldn't want to miss seeing everybody again. This way, you don't have to stay after school so I can take you to dinner at Breadsticks."

 He doesn't mention that he only wants to keep Blaine away from the school as long as possible.

Blaine looks at him suspiciously for a moment before finally saying, "No finger snapping involved?"

"No finger snapping involved. But if we don't get our food it's your fault," Kurt assures with a smirk.

Blaine gives a small smile, "Thank you Kurt. For everything. I'm-"

"Loverboys you can fuck each other later, sit asses down," Santana shouts.

The two laugh and join the rest. First, they sit just with their fingers laced together.  But as time passes they eventually get closer and closer until Blaine is between Kurt's legs, leaning his head back against his boyfriend's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Kurt wraps his arms tightly but gently around him, holding him close, and feeling the rumble of his chest whenever he laughs. He tries to get involved in the conversation but the sensation of having Blaine wrapped safe in his arms is obscenely distracting. Every so often Kurt kisses Blaine's neck or the top of his head, or lifts a hand and fiddles with the curls that he manages to release from their gelled prison, much to Blaine's annoyance. Kurt ignores his protests and soon Blaine gives up with a chuckle.

Kurt runs his fingers up and down Blaine's arms, tracing random patterns onto his warm skin. Blaine snuggles closer to his boyfriend, tilting his head back against Kurt's chest, relaxing in his arms. Muscles loosening. Breaths deepening. He could fall asleep here. In this perfect, warm place of safety, love, contentment, and light. He could fall asleep here and just forget the world. But he doesn't.

Blaine sighs and Kurt kisses his curls softly, tightening his hold around him, cradling him gently in his arms, making Blaine hum in contentment.  He seems so small, nestled into Kurt's body. The rest of the Glee club shoots them quick glances, gazes softening and sighing in relief. Because Blaine's in Kurt's arms, so everything is all right again.

After a few minutes, Kurt bends down and whispers in Blaine's ear. "You see Sam's hair?"

Blaine nods, corners of his mouth twitching up. He knows where this is going.

"He's gotten highlights. And from a cheap salon."

"How do you know?" Blaine teases. "Could be natural. Or could be from sitting in the sun too long."

"Oh Blaine. You know I have three gifts: my voice, my ability to spot trends in men's fashion, and my-"

"-ability to know when it come from a bottle," Blaine completes with an impossibly adorable giggle, twisting his body so that he can see his boyfriend's face, content hazel eyes beautiful, shining with excitement.

How did I get so damn lucky? Kurt thinks. And not for the first time.

"I love you," Blaine murmurs, closing the distance between them, staring into Kurt's arms, golden eyes wide. Then, he does one of those little things that made Kurt fall in love with him. He breaks their locked gaze and blinks, glancing away at the floor, inhaling slowly. As if the moment with Kurt is too much for him, and he needs relearn how to breathe.

Kurt smiles fondly at him and swallows the lump in his throat. "I love you too."

Their lips are only centimeters away when suddenly Blaine pulls away. Kurt looks at him confused.

"Did you hear that?"

There's a loud crack. And then another.

Kurt nods and everyone in the room looks at each other confused.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

A blood curdling scream splits the air.

Kurt's heart sinks in his chest and his eyes widen in shock and fear. And he's not alone. Because now everyone knows what the sounds are.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The cracks are gunshots.