Blaine pushed the bathroom door open and stumbled inside, palms pressed against his eyes. Tears were pouring down his cheeks from the dye irritating his eyes as he crashed headlong into the wall next to the sink. Instead of trying to keep his balance he slumped down miserably and pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing as his back twinged sharply from where the locker vents had dug into his skin.

He'd have to change into his gym uniform or find a way to sneak out of the school, because his clothes were soaked. Blaine brought a clean shirt with him every day, but not pants or underwear. Even his socks were drenched in the freezing mess. It made him feel as numb on the outside as he did inside. It was normal for him to get slushied two or three times a week, and then to be slushied by a trio of Cheerios every Friday morning, but that had been a new experience. And Kurt had instigated the whole thing. No matter what Blaine did the other boy wasn't going to care about him again. His jaw clenched tightly at the thought and fury surged through him.

Before Blaine realized what he'd done his fist slammed back against the wall and the cheap tiles cracked from the impact.

"Wow, dude. You're like some sort of cold, red Hulk," a voice by the door said in awe.

Blaine's head shot up in surprise. Finn was standing in the doorway, bathroom pass in hand, watching him with a mixture of amazement and... concern? The thought that Finn Hudson might actually be worried about him made Blaine snort loudly. The slushies must have frozen some part of his brain because this was ridiculous.

"Do you... do you want some help washing that off?" Finn volunteered awkwardly, stuffing the little pass on the shelf by the door.

" 'm fine," Blaine muttered, gripping the sink tightly and using it to pull himself up.

"Here," Finn said, hurrying over and slipping an arm around his waist to help Blaine up. Blaine was so surprised by the gesture he let it happen, let Finn hoist him up and set his right in front of the sink. A hiss of pain slipped out of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut again and heard the squeak of the faucet being turned on.

"T- thanks," Blaine stammered shakily. His body was trembling as he gripped the sink's edge again and bent down to start flushing his eyes out.

"I tried to stop him," Finn said quietly as Blaine started splashing water into his eyes.

At Finn's words he swallowed a cherry flavored mouthful and started coughing. "You what? Why?"

Through his blurry, still streaming eyes, Blaine saw the outline of Finn's towering figure shrug and lean back against the wall next to him. "I dunno. You're, like, cool. You're helping me out even though you don't have to, so I wanted to help you, too," Finn told him.

"I don't need your help," Blaine grumbled. "I'm getting extra credit for tutoring you. Let's just call that even."

"But that's not the same, dude!" Finn argued. He was quiet for a moment and then said more quietly. "Burt said you and Kurt used to be... yanno, friends. Really great friends. It's not right what's hap– "

"It is what it is," Blaine cut in, drying his eyes on his sleeve. They were still burning, but the pain was starting to dull now that the dye was out. "He's not worth it anymore. Maybe he never was."

When Finn didn't answer him, Blaine started pulling chunks of ice from his hair and dropping them into the sink. He wished Finn would just leave. All he did was remind him of Kurt for more reasons than one.

Sure, Finn seemed like a nice guy in comparison to the other jocks, but he'd also played a part in the end of his friendship with Kurt, whether he realized it or not. Blaine couldn't be mad or angry at the other boy for it since he was still oblivious to Kurt's old crush, but he didn't like having the reminder around anymore than he had to. Even agreeing to tutor him was too much for Blaine's liking, and to make matters worse he actually got along with Finn – could actually see them being friends if things were different or if time jumped forward a few years.

"I've got an extra shirt in my locker if you want it," Finn offered as Blaine shut off the water.

"I – no, thanks," Blaine decided, still wary of the kindness Finn kept showing him. "I'm soaked through, so I'm just going to head home."

"I'll help you sneak out," Finn persisted eagerly.

Blaine stared up at Finn for several minutes, still amazed at the kindness he was being shown. Part of him also couldn't help but think this was another layer to the trick. That Kurt had put his stepbrother up to all of this to absolutely humiliate him again. But Finn's smile looked so genuine and eager, Blaine decided to trust him this once. Things couldn't get much worse could they?

Two years of letting himself be tormented and made a fool of had amounted to nothing. The slushy in Kurt's own hand might have missed, but his plan with his friends had more than made up for that. He was done with trying to bring the real Kurt back to life. Maybe when he got home he'd tell his father he'd reconsidered following in his footsteps and going to Dalton.

There was nothing real left for him here. Not anymore.

As the lunch bell rang Blaine slung his bag over his shoulder and quickly headed downstairs to Kurt's locker to meet him. All day he'd been working out the conversation he was preparing for. It had to be perfect, absolutely perfect. He had to be clear if Kurt was going to understand what he meant today.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine paused at the end of the hallway and straightened his bow tie. He ran a careful hand through his curls and fixed his glasses. Today was the day he finally found the courage to tell Kurt he liked him. In a few minutes he'd be down the hall by his best friend's side and pouring his heart out.

A flash of tight white pants and a turquoise sweater swept through the crowd towards the locker bay. With another deep breath, Blaine started down the hall towards Kurt. As he walked he replayed the phone conversation he'd shared with Cooper the previous night. Well, parts of it. He was resolutely ignoring the advice to be loud, intense, or to bellow his feelings from the bleachers. But not all of Cooper's advice had been horrendous. Some of it had been really good in Blaine's opinion. He only hoped he could manage to pull it off.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine greeted, his voice cracking loudly as he stopped next to Kurt's open locker.

Kurt startled a bit, his eyes focused on some point down the hallway. "Wh– oh, hi, Blaine," Kurt said distractedly.

"Are... are you ready to go to lunch?" Blaine asked, trying to see around Kurt to figure out what was so fascinating. Some of his gusto evaporated when he saw two jocks in their grade talking at another row of lockers down the hall. He knew the one – the new varsity quarterback – by sight. Finn Hudson. A gangly, incredibly tall freshmen.

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course," Kurt said dreamily, eyes still fixed on the other boy.

Blaine watched Kurt's face careful, taking in the dazed look in his eyes and the dreamy expression. "There's um, there's something I want"– Finn and the other jock started to move towards them down the hall and Kurt's face flushed as he fixed his hair– "... something I wanted to tell you."

"What?" Kurt asked breathlessly, eyes shining brightly as Finn passed them without a glance.

Blaine felt like someone had pierced his chest with a needle and burst the bubble of courage and happiness that had been welling up inside of him all day. How was he supposed to compete with that? What was so great about Finn anyway? The other boy hadn't even spared Kurt a glance.

Blaine stared after his tall frame as Finn turned the corner, suddenly feeling even smaller than Kurt. "I... there's something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh, okay," Kurt mumbled, still staring transfixed down the hall where Finn and the other boy had disappeared. Without another word Kurt started down the hall, practically skipping on their way to the lunch room.

Chest tight, Blaine followed after him. Was Finn the kind of guy Kurt wanted? What if he wasn't good enough? Maybe Kurt liked the big, muscular sports guys. As Kurt disappeared into the lunch room, Blaine flexed one of his arms and squeezed his muscles with his other hand. He wasn't football material, but he was still pretty strong for a fourteen year old, even if he wasn't the tallest guy around. There had to be something else he was missing, something that made Finn so much more appealing than him.

Still, as he went through the line, grabbed his lunch, and then settled down across from Kurt at their usual table he started to reassemble his courage. Burt had said Kurt was sort of oblivious, and Blaine knew from experience how true that could be. Maybe if he put himself out there, let Kurt see him in that way, Kurt might stare down the hall at him the way he had just looked at Finn.

"So what did you want to tell me?" Kurt asked as they started to eat.

Blaine felt his face heat up, and his palms got so sweaty his fork slipped from his grasp. "I... um, I li– "

"Oh, here they come," Kurt whispered excitedly, his voice high and breathy again.

With a quick glance over his shoulder Blaine spotted Finn and the other jock again and his heart sank. He turned back to Kurt and took a deep breath. "Kurt, I... I like you."

"Huh? Oh, I like you, too, Blaine. Of course I do. That's why we're friends."

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the ache settling in his chest, but he couldn't close off his ears. He heard the dreamy sigh that slipped past Kurt's lips, and the tone of longing in his voice. "He's so handsome, Blaine. But he'll never notice me."

"I...um, he might once you're a Cheerio," Blaine offered miserably.

"You think so?" Kurt asked, perking up some at the thought.

"Sure," Blaine grumbled, stabbing his chicken viciously. "You're amazing, Kurt. What's there not to like about you?"

Kurt brow furrowed slightly as he glanced back at Blaine. "You think I'm amazing?"

"I think you're perfect," Blaine replied immediately, heart starting to pound hopefully once more.

With a wistful sigh, Kurt glanced at the boys across the cafeteria. "I'll never be perfect enough for him."

As Kurt's attention turned once more to the other boys, Blaine mumbled quietly so that only he could hear. "You'll always be perfect to me."

When Blaine could no longer stand sitting in his car shivering to death from how cold he was, he circled back around the block to his house and pulled into the driveway. It was almost eleven o'clock, but his father's car was still in the driveway. He knew his parents were attending some gala or something out of town this weekend, and Blaine had hoped by the time he got home they would be gone. Unfortunately his luck just kept getting worse today.

Trembling and shaking from the icy crust forming on his clothes he got out and crunched through the snow up to the front door. A few quick explanations for his presence flashed through his head as he tried to unlock the door. It took several minutes of focusing on his trembling hand before he managed to get the door open. Immediately he grabbed for one of his other jackets on the coat hook and zipped it up, covering the disaster that had been a great outfit two hours ago.

"Did you find the right toothpaste?" his father's voice hollered from the kitchen.

Still shivering and hugging himself tightly, Blaine hooked his bag back over his shoulder and started for the kitchen. There'd be no avoiding his father now. Not when he thought Blaine was his mother coming back from the store. With a last glance at his appearance, Blaine walked towards the kitchen. Most of the stains were covered up, only his jeans hinted at something being wrong and they were so dark the wet patches were difficult to see. Not something his father or mother would notice at any rate. His face and hair on the other hand, he'd just have to make something up for that, too.

"I- i- it's m- me, Dad," Blaine stuttered, his cheeks and jaw numb and shaky.

"Blaine," his father's voice suddenly became stern as they met in the doorway to the kitchen. "It's not even noon. You're supposed to be in school."

"Short day to s- s- start break," Blaine managed to get out, quailing slightly under his father's gaze.

His father made a noise of disgust. "Public schools waste so much time. You should be learning. Even on half days you should stay after and work in the library," his father said sharply. "Or join a sports team like Cooper did."

"Sorry," Blaine said quickly, staring at his father's shoulder instead of his face. "The library is closing early and it'll be quieter here."

Down the hall the front door creaked open, and his mother's voice trilled out. "James, I found everything. Have you packed up the car yet?"

"It's already done, dear," he called back, eyes still fixed on Blaine. His expression remained stern as he looked over Blaine, at his soaked hair and the way he was trembling. "Decided to waste more time with a snowball fight or whatever you kids do these days, huh?"

"I, um... "

"Your time would be better spent disciplining yourself with a sports activity," James informed him. "A school sports activity and not that silly boxing league you like so much. Even that girly boy you used to hang out with is part of the athletics department. Why can't you do something, too?"

Blaine bowed his head, feeling humiliated once more. Tears were building behind his eyes at his father's words, both at the mention of Kurt and the underlying message that who he was wasn't good enough. His morning had been mortifying enough and now he was getting the usual ridicule that made him feel worthless.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better," Blaine acknowledged quietly. As his father gave him a sharp nod, Blaine decided to add, "Maybe I could go to Dalton next year. They have more sports and academic options."

James's surprise registered on his face as Blaine's mother came into view down the hall. "You– really? You want to go to Dalton?"

"Hello, darling," his mother greeted, pecking Blaine on the cheek softly. "I didn't realize you had a half day today."

But Blaine was too busy staring at his father's hopeful expression. It was a look he hadn't had directed at him in years. Not since he'd scored the most goals out of all the boys on his soccer team back in Columbus. "I think I'd like it there. I could join their fencing team, or soccer like Cooper did."

James nodded, looking ecstatic in a way Blaine could never recall before. At least not when it had concerned him. "That'd be fantastic, Blaine. You could do with being more like your brother. More... manly."

Blaine flinched slightly at the meaning behind his father's words. More straight, more confident and masculine. Not gay.

"Oh, Dalton would be wonderful for you," his mother gushed. "You'll get to sneak out with the other boys to visit the girls at their sister school like your father and his friends used to do."

"Same reason Cooper almost got expelled," his father boasted proudly. "He's quite the lady's man."

Heart sinking for the second time today, Blaine nodded. Maybe Dalton wasn't such a good idea. What if he fell for one of the boys there and got taunted because of it? Or worse, what if it was his roommate that caught his interest?

"You'll be able to join the Warblers, too," his father added. "They're much better than that Glee Club you keep wasting your time with."

The grandfather clock down the hall chimed to signal that it was half past eleven. His mother jolted into action, grabbing the last bag from the hall and kissing him on the cheek once more. "We're going to miss our flight if we don't leave now. Have a good week, Blaine."

"Week?" Blaine echoed as his parents started down the hall to the door. "I thought you were coming back Monday."

"The gala's extended since it's Christmas week," his father informed him, pulling on his jacket and hat. "We'll be back a few days after Christmas, but Cooper should be coming into town tomorrow evening as always." His father held the door open for his mother. "I expect the house to be in one piece when I return, and no girls," his father finished with a small wink, ignoring the grimace that took over Blaine's features. "I'll contact Dalton while we're away. With any luck we could get you transferred by the time term starts in January."

Blaine nodded mutely as they dashed out of the house and to his father's car. He waited until they had disappeared down the road before closing the front door and locking it. In some ways he loved getting the house to himself so much, but it was also very lonely. Especially over the holidays when everyone he knew would be busy with their families.

Still shivering from his soaked clothes, Blaine made his way upstairs and into his bedroom, stripping off his bag and coats before grabbing some clean clothes and heading to the bathroom. He plugged the drain in the tub and turned the hot water on full blast as he started to peel off his ruined clothes. After examining each article of clothing and deciding that they were all, in fact, ruined beyond repair, he grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around himself, trying to warm himself up some before submerging himself in the hot bath water.

After a long time soaking in the tub, and a lot of vigorous scrubbing Blaine climbed out and dried off. He paused to examine himself in the mirror, taking in the different areas of his scalp that were dyed red or blue and the hand-shaped marks on his arms where Puckerman and Karofsky had held him in place. With a little twisting he managed to see the bruises on his shoulder blades from the locker vents, but a little ice would numb that up so that he could sleep.

A quick trip back downstairs to the kitchen for an ice pack and a snack, and then he holed up in his room. It took a little arranging for him to get comfortable on his stomach, but finally he had the pillow squashed beneath his chest as he shifted the ice pack into place. From his bag on the big chair across the room his phone started to ring loudly. The first few notes of Rio blared around the room, and Blaine sighed, but got up and retrieved the device.

Right now he really needed to talk to his older brother.

"Hey, Coop," Blaine greeted, dropping back down onto the bed and curling up on his stomach. He placed the ice pack back on the bruises as Cooper's voice sang out his own greeting.

"Blaineeey, about time you answered. I left you six voicemails, all trying out different versions of my commercial's new jingle."

"Oh, I'll listen to them later," Blaine told him, pressing his cheek into the pillow. "I guess you're calling to tell me when your flight comes in?"

"Actually, I'm not going to make it out this year, squirt," Cooper said, sounding regretful. "We're getting ready to launch the new commercial and we've still got to film it. I tried calling Dad but his phone was off."

"They're on their way to St. Louis for some gala or something," Blaine mumbled miserably. "I– " Blaine paused and fought down the tight ball forming in his throat. "Are you sure you can't make it out?"

"They've got me booked all week, and then I've got an audition on Tuesday," Cooper said excitedly. Before Blaine could get another word in his brother was going off on a long tangent about his latest work and all the auditions and things he was doing. Blaine listened in silence, barely hearing the words his brother was saying because of the misery swallowing him up.

Maybe he'd just been in denial for the past two years about Kurt, maybe that's why this all hurt so much. And now on top of finally realizing that his best friend really didn't exist anymore he was going to be alone for the majority of his winter holidays. Tina, Mike, and Rachel were all going out of town. Besides, he'd probably want to slap himself if he decided to hang out with Rachel for an extended period of time.

"– and then I'll get a two week hiatus in April, so I'll definitely come out for a visit then," Cooper finished. "Might even make it for Easter."

"Oh, yeah, that's... that's great," Blaine choked out, fisting his free hand into his pillow and trying to force his tears down for a few minutes longer. "I s- should go. Hanging out with... with friends tonight."

"Oh, okay," Cooper said. "Have fun, Blaine! Throw a big house party in my honor since I won't be around."

Before Blaine could say goodbye the phone line clicked and went dead. He let his phone drop to the floor as he curled himself around his pillow, his sobs finally breaking free as he buried his face in soft fabric. For the first time ever he wished he'd never met Kurt, that they'd never moved to Lima, and that he'd never fallen in love. He hated everything Kurt had done to him and kept doing, but mostly he hated himself. Blaine hated that even now he kept wishing his best friend was curled up behind him, kissing his hair and holding him close while he told Blaine everything was going to be all right.