How could you describe the sound of a breath?

The soft vacuum of an inhale. It's sharp. And cold. And now it is slow as Kurt feels his lungs slowly inflate with oxygen. The breath stays there until there's a tightness in his chest, but he doesn't exhale. 

Blaine hand had slipped from his own. A hard shove had sent him crashing to the floor, pain jarring up Kurt's shoulder from the force of the fall. There were sounds of confused cries and protests. Kurt had shaken his head, trying to unscramble his thoughts. 

He rises to his feet slowly, but as his eyes widen in shock and he feels his body sinking to its knees again, hands hovering over a figure at his feet.

Blaine is curled up on his side.

The world is muted, but Kurt can faintly hear screams behind him, some lingering shots that racket against the lockers and ceiling, and the scuffle of fleeing footsteps. He's frozen. He can't function, he cannot possibly comprehend.

And it's all horribly familiar.

But so, so much worse.

There's a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, and a voice is murky, calling to him, "Kurt. Kurt. We have to get him out of here. They'll be back. Kurt."

Kurt exhales, the exiting air rattling in chest and up his throat. He watches as his shaking hands softly touch Blaine's side, the body strong and warm beneath his hands. Trembling¸ he gently rolls Blaine onto his back, hearing his boyfriend groan and choke in pain.

His eyes trace up Blaine's body and linger on the growing stain on his left side. There is red spreading on the white linoleum and as Kurt adjusts Blaine, his fingers brush against it. It's not cold. It's not icy. It's hot and warm.

He can hear stifled sobs behind him. "Oh my, oh my god." It's Rachel.

The world rushes back and Kurt watches a large hand cover the dark stain, pressing down firmly. He hears Blaine cry out.

"You're okay Blaine, you're okay," Finn is saying as he stares at the warm blood as it stains his hands and seeps out through the gaps of his fingers.

"Stay with us dude," Pucks orders as he strips off his button down and adjusts it over the wound. The grey t-shirt beneath it is stained with small scrapes of red when Puck wipes his hand on it.

Kurt's eyes move up to Blaine's face hesitantly and he sees him nodding weakly, biting his lip, face screwed in pain. "I'm alright, I'm fine." He chokes. His chest rises and falls heavily, his breathing labored. "K-Kurt?"

"I'm fine baby. I'm right here." Kurt replies softly, moving to cradle Blaine's head in his lap.

Blaine's lashes flutter as hazel eyes look up at Kurt, "Hi."

"Hi there, silly boy," Kurt whispers. His fingers tremble as they stroke Blaine's cheek.

Finn exhales, looking up from the blood on his hands and trying to refocus. He has to be strong. Be strong. Be strong. Be strong. "We need to go guys, find a way out."

"Finn there's no way out dude, we've tried."

"I don't care Puck! We have to get Blaine of here or he'll.... he'll... we need to get him help. Or at least find someplace to hide. We don't know why they left but sure as shit we need to go somewhere. We can't stay here."

Kurt nods slowly, leans down to shakily to kiss Blaine on his sweaty forehead before asking him softly, "Can you move sweetheart?"

Blaine nods quickly and sucks in a breath, trying to control his breathing, "I'm fine, Kurt."

Kurt just sighs and shakes his head before beckoning over Finn. Together, they help Blaine to his feet. Involuntarily, Blaine shouts in pain as he is lifted, eyes squeezing shut. The sound rips through Kurt's body.

He never thought he'd have to hear it again.

The four move through the halls, Blaine between them. Rachel moves ahead, tears still tracking down her face but her jaw is set, eyes moving rapidly as she scans the halls for any danger.

There are gun shots ahead and Rachel turns sharply, leading down them down another passage way. But there are screams this way and the group back tracks. Blaine is quiet except for the occasional groan, and Kurt's eyes flit between the growing stain and his boyfriend's pale face.

"We need to go faster," Puck says, shaking his head as he stumbles, almost slipping on some blood. There are drag marks where a body must've been only minutes earlier. Soon, Kurt forgets where they're going, letting his friends lead him down the hallway. Because there's Blaine's arm slung around his shoulder, gripping him tightly. There's Blaine, Blaine, and Blaine and he can't focus while seeing his Blaine in so much pain. He winces as he hears the small cries and gasps, heart squeezing cruelly. He can hear the drip of Blaine's blood as it seeps through the shirt and down onto the floor.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

After a bit, Kurt hears less of the gasps and more drips. He sees Blaine's eyes fluttering closed, head lolling slightly as most of his weight is being lifted.

"Come on, almost there," Finn whispers.

The school is eerily quiet. The hallways empty, except for backpacks dropped in panic, and papers scattered across the floor. Papers that keep you up all night, for maths or history. An essay scribbled together in the early hours of the morning. All meaningless. All forgotten and left fluttering on the pale floors. Everything that seemed to matter so much doesn't seem to matter at all.

"Go, go, go," Puck orders softly, stepping behind Blaine and pushing the small of his back, urging him forward. Blains groans but blinks his eyes and forces himself forward, stumbling slightly. Finn and Kurt pull him up and they continue. Go. Go. Go.

But after a couple more steps, Blaine falls, his chest cracking sharply against the hard floors, making him cry out in pain and cough. Kurt and Finn instantly pull him to his feet, Kurt biting his lip.  

"We need to rest," he says quietly and he hesitantly pushes through the doors to a small classroom. "Just for a second." It's dark, quiet, and empty. Kurt ushers the others inside and quietly closes the door behind them.

They all lean against the wall, breathing deeply. Kurt and Finn gingerly situate Blaine, and Kurt supports his head on his lap.

"I'm sorry," Blaine gasps, "Just need a second... I'm fine."
Sweat trickles down his face despite the cool air conditioning, and his tan face is pale. His chest rises and falls sporadically, breaths stuttering past his lips, which bleed from being bitten so much. His eyes are closed and after a minute Kurt whispers to him. 

"Blaine. Look at me."

No response.

A little louder, but still quietly to avoid being heard by the gunmen stalking the halls, Kurt shakes Blaine gently, panic rising through him. "Blaine, open your eyes. Blaine, Blaine! Look at me. Please, please open your eyes."

Blaine groans and his eyes slowly flutter open. Kurt sighs in relief. "K-Kurt..."

Kurt sniffs, forcing a watery smile onto his face, "I'm here. You have to stay awake for me. Keep those beautiful eyes open for me."

Blaine nods and looks up into Kurt's eyes and they capture him like they always do. His hazel eyes are dark and he stares into Kurt as if he can see through him and into him. A gaze so intense and familiar, Kurt can barely hold it. But he does. "That's it," Kurt whispers.

He's faintly aware of Finn and Puck moving, readjusting Puck's shirt over the wound and tightening it to staunch the bleeding. The hazel eyes disappear as Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, face contorting in pain. "He shouldn't be bleeding so much," Puck whispers, barely audible.

But Blaine's eyes flutter open again so Kurt can't focus and listen to Finn's reply. "Hey that's it, you're doing great baby. Stay with me, just stay with me. Talk to me."

Blaine clears his throat and he struggles to speak, "Don't worry about me," He says hoarsely, "You're not going to get rid of me so easy. I made a promise remember."

Kurt smiles, "And what did you promise?"

"To always love you, to defend-" Blaine takes a stuttering breath, "- you, e-even if I know you're wrong. To surprise you. To always..." His eyes flutter shut again, face screwing in pain as another fire lights across his nerves. He breathes heavily for a bit before forcing his eyes open again. "To always answer your phone call, no matter what I'm doing. To b-bake you cookies at least twice a year and to k-kiss you wherever and whenever you want." He continues softly, "But mostly, just to make sure you remember how perfectly imperfect you are."

"You remember."

"Every word. And Kurt..."

"Yes Blaine?"

"I mean it. And I'm sorry-"

Kurt shakes his head, unable to stop a few tears from spilling over. "No no we're not doing apologies now. You're going to be okay. You're okay. You're okay." He bends down and kisses Blaine's salty lips impossibly gently, just ghosting across them. "You're okay." He mutters, staring down into Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes.

They sit quietly for long, fleeting moments. There are no gunshots cracking. There are no more screams being uttered. All that's left is silence.

After a while, Blaine closes his eyes and says weakly, "Kurt... I'm cold."

Kurt swallows and just strokes his pale face tenderly. He looks up at the others, eyes shining but jaw set, "We need to get him out of here."

Everyone nods and then Blaine's being lifted to his feet again. He's too tired to protest. Hesitantly, they step out of the small room and back into the hallway.

The door, heavy, slams shut behind them, a resounding crash echoing through the halls.

Shit.

They all wince and quicken their pace. The main entrance is at the end of the hallway. The main entrance with its glass, sliding doors. Glass, sliding doors that can be shattered by a hurled chair. It's a way out. It's a way out and that's all that matters. Just go, go, go.

They all freeze as a figure steps into the hallway in front of them, a dark gun raised, pointed at the small, exhausted group.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He demands, walking up to them, his face frantic. Panicked. Afraid.

"Please... We have to get him out, he's hurt." Kurt whispers.

The teen shakes his head and jabs at the air with the gun. "The school's on lockdown!" His voice cracks as he yells.

Puck steps forward hesitantly, arms raised. "I know but if we don't get him out of here, he's going to die."

"I'm uh..." His eyes flit between Blaine and the bloody shirt tied across his torso and the gun in his hand.

"Please."

He stutters for a second, gun trembling slightly in his hands. "I can't... I can't!"

Rachel forces a smile, "Yes you can... You don't have to do this. Just let us go. Just drop this. Leave with us. Don't worry about the rest of them."

"I can't stop. I can't take this back," he chokes. He digs his fists into his eyes before readjusting the gun, pointing it at the group. It shakes violently in his hands. "I can't. The school's on lockdown! You can't leave! You can't!"

Her smile falls, "Why are you doing this?" she asks, throat thick.

"You're Rachel Berry right? Star performer of the Glee club, Nationals champion and all that bullshit. What's my name?"

Rachel looks at the others, eyes despaired.

"LOOK AT ME! What's my name? WHO AM I?"

"I don't know," she sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Blaine looks up weakly, "It's Collin. Collin Thomas. We're in... We're in Superhero sidekick club together. Do you remember?"

Collin hesitates before nodding, the gun jerking back and forth, his eyes wide.

"Collin... Why are you doing this?"

"We're doing it because we so sick of this. Sick of being hated, or unnoticed, or bullied. No one knows we exist. No one cares. No one does anything. This is the longest time I've spoken to you ever," he stutters, voice trembling slightly, "And it's only because of the gun in my hand."

Finn speaks softly, "Look man I'm sorry this happened to you, but it's only high school, it gets better..."

"Bullshit. Why does everyone ever say that? These are days of my life that I'm never going to get back. You can't give them back to me."

"We didn't take them from you..."

"Exactly! All of you just sit around and ignore it. You forget about everyone else and focus on your little club. You worry about the next big game, or your next Sectionals, or...or whose going to be Prom King and Queen. Or what you're going to wear when your boyfriend who'd forgotten about you finally comes to visit. And you ignore everything else. And you leave us."

"I'm sorry... " Blaine chokes, guilt flooding his eyes.

"No! It's too late for that now!  It's too late!" He yells, jerking the gun to Blaine's direction. Blaine slackens in Kurt's arms, defeated. 

Kurt reacts instantly, launches himself in front of Blaine, twisting his body around him so his back is to the shooter, holding him tightly in his arms.  Blaine's curls are damp against his neck as his head lolls slightly on Kurt's shoulder. He breathes in little pants, a small pool of dark scarlet sliding onto the hard floor, the liquid hot and sticky as it seeps through Kurt's jeans. Kurt holds his hand up in protest as he tries to shield Blaine from Collin's crazed eyes. "Please don't," he whispers frantically, looking at Collin over his shoulder, voice cracking as he tries to speak a little louder, "Please don't hurt him."

Collin bites his lip, shaking his head and pulling his gun back, digging its hilt into his forehead, as if he needs to try and hold his head together. The teen looks like he's falling apart, and he roughly fists away a tear that trickles down his cheek. He looks so lost and confused.

But Kurt only pulls Blaine closer into his body, feeling his heartbeat against his chest. He doesn't even look at the shooter behind him, because the most important thing is Blaine in his arms. And he has to keep him safe. God knows he's failed. But he has to try.

The group stands in silence, before Puck, after taking a look at Blaine sagging slightly in Kurt's protective arms, steps forward. "Forget this, we need to get him on of here.  Look, just let Kurt take Blaine out."

Collin looks up and with trembling hands straightens the gun, pointing it at Puck. "NO! The SHOOL IS ON LOCKDOWN!"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. He's DYING COLLIN!" Puck yells back.

"Stop telling me what to do! STOP!" Collin chokes brokenly, his voice ending in half a sob. "Stop." He puts his finger on the trigger.

"Wait, Colin don't shoot!"

Surprised, the group spins around and sees Josh with two other boys striding towards them. All wear haughty expressions, guns slung over their shoulders much too comfortably. They're enjoying this. "Don't shoot. There's a SWAT team outside and if they hear a gunshot they'll come in. As long as the situation is static they won't. We talked about this remember?"

Collin nods his head jerkily and he lowers his gun. "What are we going to do with them?" He asks, voice soft and uncertain.

"Just put them with the others in the gym. Come on people let's move."

The group simply stays.

Josh snorts and lifts his gun, the two boys behind him mimicking his action. "Move," he orders.

Kurt looks up at him, eyes pleading. "Josh, please, please let Blaine go. This isn't fault. He's not going to last. You can be better than them, let him go."

But Josh only stares down at Kurt and speaks, voice cold and flat, "Move."