Frozen in shock.

And as the screams beckon and the gunshots draw even closer, cracking and ringing through the halls of McKinley High School, a room of people sits frozen.

But as the sounds that will be forever imprinted in the minds of those there to hear them grow louder and more frequent, the people in the room begin to thaw. They rise shakily to their feet and the questions that everyone already know the answer to are asked:

"Are those gunshots?"

The answer: Yes.

"Are there gunmen in the school?"

The answer: Yes.

"There must be more than one. Who are they?"

The answer: I don't know.

"Why is this happening?"

The answer: ...

Mr. Schue shushes the frantic questions and panicked whispers and is the first to spring into action. "Lock the door and pull the blinds. Mike, close the lights," he orders, "And quietly."

The students do just that and then Mr. Schue beckons them to the wall, beside the door, just in case the shooter could see through the blinds and into the room. Also so they could hear what was going on outside. Everyone huddles together and Blaine holds Kurt tightly in his arms as they try to quiet their rapid breaths. Kurt can feel Blaine trembling against him, so he laces their fingers together, squeezing his boyfriend's hand tightly. I'm right here, you're going to be okay, we're going to be okay, the gesture whispers, I'm right here.

The gun shots draw nearer. Closer, closer, ever closer. The sound of a door being kicked down. Screams. "Please don't! Please! I'm sorry!" the screams beg. Rachel clamps her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. The hushed sound of Quinn talking into her cell phone, the murmurs of the 911 operator from the other end. Tears run down cheeks. Kurt and Blaine squeeze their hands tighter, We're going to be okay.

We're going to be okay.

But closer.

And closer.

Ever closer.

And then, beating on the door.

"Hello? Glee club you in there? Ready to dance for us?"

The door knob jiggles.
The lock holds.

Laughter. More beating.

"We know you're in there," another voice jeers. "Let's see your singing make things better now."

The beating stops.

"Get ready to run everyone, they're going to kick down the door!" Puck shouts, "Finn, Mike, Blaine, with me. We need to floor those assholes the minute that door gives way."

Mike and Finn pull away from their girlfriends, hearts caught in their throats. Blaine quickly brushes Kurt's cheek with a swift and gentle touch and tears himself away.

"Blaine!" Kurt moves to follow but Mercedes holds him back. "Let me go Cedes! I can help!"

"No, I need you to calm Rachel down so we can get the hell out of here."

Kurt nods reluctantly and rushes to the brunette, dragging Brittany along.

The boys line up in front of the door and Santana stands beside them. They look at her with raised eyebrows but she just snorts, "Just because I wasn't on the football team doesn't mean I can't tackle. It's how we do it in Lima Heights."

The lot can't help but chuckle and Puck instructs steadily, "Dive toward the legs, not the chest. We're just looking to trip the bastards and not get shot." He turns to look back at the others who stand behind them. "The moment they drop we all run like hell, yeah? And when you hear shots, hit the floor."

There's no time to see them nod because suddenly a splintering crack resounds and the door gives way with a loud crash and suddenly the world is a blur of bodies and motion. Leaping over and around the stumbling and falling gunmen, Kurt launches into the hallway, dragging Blaine up and pulling him along. He can hear the footsteps of the other glee club members and Mr. Schue racing around him, the shouts of the gunmen, and the heavy breaths of Blaine running beside him, still gripping his hand tightly. His heart pounds and adrenaline shoots through his veins, painting the world in sharp colors and clarity. Just run.

Run.

Run.

Run.

Kurt stumbles to a halt at the side entrance and sees the doors locked shut with heavy iron chains. "Turn around! We can't get out from here! Turn around!" he shouts breathlessly.

His swift feet carry him and he tightens his grip on Blaine's hand as they twist and turn through the hallways. They turn a sharp corner, skidding and using the lockers to push off again. Blaine almost slips on a pool of blood but Kurt pulls him up and steadies him. All around his friends run, forgetting the layout of the school, no idea where they are going in this race. It's just run and get away. Run and find a way out.

There has to be a way out.

There has to be.

Kurt steps on something and freezes.

"Kurt don't look down!" Blaine pants, "Just keep going!"

Too late though.

This segment of hallway beside the cafeteria is littered with bodies. Most look dead, from bullet holes in their heads or their limp figures or the wave of scarlet that drips from their body and creeps across the floor. Some twist and groan.

Kurt screams before clapping a hand over his mouth. His body shakes as he stares in wide eyed horror along with everyone else. Blaine wraps his arms around him and holds his body tightly as the group begins to carefully pick their way across.

"Kurt look at me," Blaine whispers. Kurt obeys and looks into those beautiful hazel eyes and allows himself to get lost in that smoldering gaze for a moment. Blaine grips his shoulders tightly, "You're going to be okay. You're going to get through this. I promise."

Kurt nods slowly and steadies his breathing, giving Blaine swift hug.

Finn clears his throat and Kurt is surprised that he can muster enough strength to roll his eyes.

They begin to pick their way across when suddenly...

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

"You can't go this way! You don't have time! Hide!" Mr. Schuester shouts from the other end of the hall before he disappears, leaving Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, Finn and Puck with their hearts in their throats.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Blaine springs into action, remembering an exit, "This way!" he shouts as he pulls Kurt into the cafeteria and then five young people run into the room, carefully avoiding the bodies sprawled across the floor.

The cafeteria is bloody. It is quiet. It was the scene of the massacre, where everything had started. Bullet holes are carved into the walls, dark against the white. They wonder what happened to the lunch ladies. Did they get out in time?

They pass a table, where a couple of students lie hidden, whimpering as they approach. But they can't join them, the gunmen will see. So they keep running, not giving them a second glance while the hidden stare gratefully after them.

Blaine bursts out of the door on the other end of the cafeteria. The hallways are empty here, except for small drops of blood that are carelessly splattered upon the pale floors. Hearts beat and flutter fast as the group twists, trying to run faster and faster but behind them they hear footsteps pounding and guns firing. The cracks and steps growing louder and louder.
Closer.

And closer.

Ever closer.

Heart heavy, Blaine looks right and left. They're running out of time. Every single classroom door is sealed shut, with no hint as to whether anyone hides inside.

And there's no one there to help.

Blaine swallows as tears prick his eyes. He has to keep Kurt safe but he's so tired. God he is so tired. His ribs and chest ache, his battered body about to collapse. He wants to cry.

Sensing his distress, Kurt squeezes his hand and pulls ahead, hearing Blaine's tired breaths behind him mingling with the feet of Finn, Rachel, and Puck.

They turn right.  No left. Stay straight. Left again. Locked door. Dead end. Turn back. Turn left. Turn right. Locked door. Dead end.

And still the cracks ring sharper and sharper. Louder and louder. The silence of the school painted with exhausted breaths, pounding feet, fluttering hearts, and a distant laugh echoing through the halls.

Kurt and Blaine falter as Blaine coughs, the sharp pain in Blaine's ribs stabbing deep into him like a sharpened blade. He can't breathe and he coughs again, the action shaking his trembling body.

Puck looks at him with concerned eyes, but pushes him forward, making Blaine stumble slightly. Kurt glares at him but Puck simply whispers, "We can't stop."

And then finally. There's the side exit. Hardly anyone uses it. Except those trying to conquer the steepest wheelchair slope in Lima.

Relief floods into Puck, streaming through his body and down into the tips of his fingers. He runs ahead quickly knowing that they have to go now, the gunmen are right behind them. He pushes the door.

It doesn't move.

Puck pushes harder and Finn and Rachel join him. They push and beat the door.

And then laughter as the gunmen step into the hall behind them.

"Help!" Rachel yells, her cracking voice trying to penetrate through the door and into the world beyond, where police officers and worried parents wait at the front of the school, some with solemn faces, breaths trapped, and others in hysterical tears and shouts, being pulled back by others. Where a squat team in full protective gear unloads out of a dark truck. But no one hears a word. Because no one uses this gate except those trying to conquer the steepest wheelchair slope in Lima.

And those who wanted to get stoned during school. And those who wanted to avoid the jocks in the front with the freezing cups in their hands.

But no one ever thought about them, now did they?

The doors rattle but do not budge, the heavy chains on the other end doing their job magnificently.

The laughter is right behind them. And Rachel fists the tears off her cheeks and turns to face them with the others. On instinct, Finn steps in front of her, shielding her with his body. Puck simply glares at gunmen, his body motionless but his heart beating so loudly he's afraid everyone else will hear. Blaine swiftly stands in front of Kurt, holding him back with an arm, because he knows these boys.

Stoner Brett stands with his gun pointed at them along with other loners. The video game geeks. The repressed and closeted homosexuals. Those people that were always alone, now standing together, some with uneasy expressions and others with smiles.  Jacob Ben Israel peeks his head out from behind the group, looking at Rachel with wide eyes, his own gun hanging limply in his hand.

"Look whose back," a boy, Mark, smirks.

Kurt stares uneasily at the closest gun to them, seeing it tremble slightly in Stoner Brett's hands. Except he doesn't seem so stoned today. Today his eyes are clear and he swallows, gripping the gun tighter.

"Hey guys, stop this. I'm like you," Blaine says carefully, raising a steady hand and taking a step toward the angry boys. "We went through the same thing."

"We're not the enemy," Kurt calls, stepping up beside his boyfriend.

The gun falters.

"Put the gun down Brett," Blaine pleads softly.

"No!" Another boy, Josh, shouts, raising his gun and training it on Blaine. This one doesn't tremble. "We went through the same thing but you didn't help us. You left us like everyone else. You didn't do anything. You didn't say anything. You're just as bad as the rest of them!"

Blaine stares at the boy, stunned into silence. Kurt steps closer, eyes blazing. "Can you even hear yourself?" he asks incredulously, "He couldn't do anything! You all left each other."

"You! You have the nerve to speak to us?" Josh snarls, moving the gun and pointing it at Kurt's heart, which beats rapidly in his chest. "You. You taught us all to be free and be ourselves and LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED! And then you leave and never come back and leave us all here to suffer the consequences.  We were fine before you opened your mouth and changed this place," Josh hisses through his teeth with an accusatory glare, "You didn't even know."

"I'm sorry." Kurt whispers. "I'm here now, I know now. We can change things."

"No, no, NO!" Josh shouts, his face contorting, his eyes flashing. Insanity is written all over his features as he laughs. And he speaks clearly, with a confident smile on his face, "Everyone has to pay."

He pulls the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the air. 

Crack.

Within the span of a second a million thoughts flit through Kurt's mind. But primarily it's Blaine squeezing his hand. We're going to be okay.

We're going to be okay.

Kurt crashes to the floor.