Bullying was a difficult thing to deal with at McKinley, the entire glee club knew this from many many past experiences. Sure the pushing and shoving and dumpster or port-a-potty tosses were horrible, they hurt and made you feel small and worthless. But what was the worst was the slushies, most of the bullied students didn't even know why the school didn't remove those damn machines. If anything the janitors would be glad, no more puddles of colored syrup to have to clean off of the floors. They stung horribly, the sudden whack of sold ice was like being bitch slapped by an ice berg. The coloring and syrup got into your eyes making it hard to see for hours afterwards, it stained clothes and took sometimes three showers to get it out of your hair completely. And it actually left marks, depending on the fairness of the person's skin, it could look like they were slapped across the face for a couple days afterward. Yep, if the kids of McKinley high were questioned, without a doubt, slushies would be voted the worst of all the bullying at the school.

It was a sunny spring afternoon that brought the brutes out in full force, there had been four slushies tossed by then already, and the members of the glee club were just thankful that none of them had been a target yet. Most of the club were sitting in the parking lot atop the hoods of a couple of their chairs that happened to be parked next to each other, the group talking animatedly. "No, I'm telling you, a Cher song would work perfectly!" Rachel argued from where she sat between Finn's legs on the hood of his truck, resting her back against his chest.

"Rachel, I never thought I'd say this." Kurt called over from where he was sitting next to Blaine on the latter's car, his arm drapped around his boyfriend's waist easily. "But no fricking Cher!"

"Why!?" The girl pouted. "She's an icon."

"She's lame." Puck said from his lounging spot on the actual roof of Finn's truck, his sunglasses on to keep the glare of the daylight out of his eyes.

"While I don't agree with that assessment." Kurt glared the the other boy for a moment before looking back at Rachel. "I think it'd be better if we did someone less... flamboyant?" As the words left his mouth, there was a wave of tittering that ran through his friends, well, expect Rachel, who just looked at him in horrified shock. "What's so funny?"

"Dude, you are the last person I would think who would be against flamboyance." Finn said at the same time as Rachel snapped. "Cher is not flamboyant! She's amazing and one of a kind!" She then turned her ire on Blaine. "What do you think?"

"I'm not really a Cher fan." He shrugged, which got another gasp from Rachel.

"And you call yourself a gay man." Mike teased from across the way, sitting on his car with Tina and Sam.

"Shut up." Blaine called, tossing an empty water bottle at the boy, of course it didn't actually get that far, instead it thumped Rachel on the leg, the girl yelping. "Sorry Rachel." Blaine said with a little sheepish smile as the others chuckled. Just as the conversation started to pick up again, steering away from all things Cher related, Kurt's phone buzzed. He looked down at the screen, seeing a text from Mercedes. "That's Cedes, she say her and Satana have an idea about song for Nationals, she wants us all to meet up in the choir room." He relayed.

With a little sigh, Rachel slid forward, managing to keep her skirt from riding up as she did, before hoping off the hood. "Fine, but I still maintain that we're not doing Beyonce!" She huffed, it had been a fight she and Mercedes had been having for a couple days now. Finn just rolled his eyes as he hopped down, the rest following suit quickly.

"Whoa, incoming." Sam muttered, putting his hand up to halt everyone's movement, the group freezing like they were trying to trick a predatory animal into not seeing them. And in a way they were, because there was a group of jocks dragging a smaller boy dressed in black between them toward one of the dumpsters. He was sort of kicking his feet in a feeble attempt to get away, although once the group of neanderthals got close enough it was easy to see that the poor sophomore was basically blind. There were two distinct colors of syrup and ice dripping down his face, soaking his shirt. Two slushies at once, that was the worst. The glee kids watched as the teen was dragged toward the dumpster, picked up and then tossed roughly into it. The sickening sound of glass breaking could be heard as the boy landed on something fragile that no doubt cut his back at least a little bit. The group of outcasts all cringed before freezing once again when the bullies turned toward them. "What're you looking at!?" The biggest snarled.

"Nothing." Rachel said with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, we were just leaving." Tina said as she grabbed Mike's arm, pulling him toward the school before he had a chance to do something stupid, like mouth off to the morons.

"Finn, move." Rachel hissed, pushing him forward, the taller boy tripping over his feet slightly before righting himself.  Puck meandered behind, acting like he didn't care one tiny bit what happened one way or another, even they all knew he actually did. "Sam, man, come on." He said to his friend, the blonde boy snapping out of his dumbfounded staring contest with the dumpster to follow the others.

"Come on Blaine." Kurt said to the other boy when he realized that Blaine wasn't following him.

"But.." The darker haired boy started, moving to point toward the dumpster.

"No no, he'll be fine, come on." Kurt coaxed, grabbing Blaine's hand and dragging him forward. "You don't want to follow him, lets go."

"Kurt, I really think..." Blaine started again, dragging his feet as they walked farther and farther away from someone who very well could need their help.

"We've all been there, he'll be fine. Scraped up a bit, maybe a cut or two, but nothing that won't heal." Kurt assured him with a caring pat on his back, but Blaine couldn't shake the feeling that they shouldn't be walking away. He sometimes thought it was just because of being at Dalton for so long that stuff like he had just witnessed hit him so hard, Dalton's no bullying policy was rarely, if ever really, broken. Sure, Blaine knew not all schools were like Dalton, in fact in his experience no schools were like it.

The next day started like any other, the hustle and bustle of teens running between one class to another, shouting and laughing at one another in the halls. The occasional dramatics from one of the girls over a boyfriend or something life ending, like their favorite actor getting married. Whatever it was, the sounds were almost homey, their normalcy welcoming. Blaine was standing by his locker as he spoke to Rory, the Irish boy chuckling as he copied down something from one of Blaine's books. "You know, one day you will remember to do your calculus homework."

"I doubt it." Rory smirked, pausing when he saw the look on Blaine's face. 

"Duck." Was all the other boy said, so of course Rory turned around opposed to ducking, which meant he was met head on with a slushie.

Blaine, who not only had ducked, but used his locker door as a shield, peeked around the edge to see Rory standing there in shock, purple ice dripping slowly down into his shirt. "Oh man." Blaine huffed.

"Ow." Was all Rory said, turning around slowly to face his friend.

"That sucks."

"I feel like I just face flopped into Loch Eanach." Rory said stiffly.

"What's a face flop?" Blaine asked curiously, only to get an attempted bitchy glare in return. "Right, sorry, not the time. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Blaine said as he stooped down to grab the dropped books from the ground that were now splattered with syrup. He tossed them into his locker before slamming the door shut, placing his hands on Rory's shoulders, he started to steer the boy toward the locker room to get cleaned up.

"I don't have a change of clothes." Rory said once they were arrived, taking the offered towel that Blaine held out. 

"Looks like you'll just have to do with a quick sink rinse and wear your gym shirt for the rest of the day." Blaine said, opening the other boy's gym locker as he recited his combination. "And tomorrow pack a change of clothes to keep on campus, just in case. It's one of the first things Kurt told me to do, and lemme tell you, it's come in handy." He explained before looking over his shoulder to see Rory awkwardly attempting to clean the ice out of his hair over the sink. With a chuckle, Blaine grabbed a chair and dragged it over. "Sit, lemme help." He offered. It took a good twenty minutes, and missing both the warning and official bell, but eventually Rory was good to go. Damp and in a bright red t-shirt with the school's initials printed on it, but at least he wasn't purple anymore. "Well, we've missed half of math, wanna go wait in the choir room?" Blaine asked, since they had glee club next.

"Sure." Rory nodded, grabbing his bag as the two headed out, walking toward their destination.

They were quite as they went, the silence being broken finally by Blaine's cell going off, the tone was the one he had assigned to Kurt. "Hey." He smiled into the phone only to be met with a slightly frantic sounding Kurt.

"Where are you!?"

"I'm on my way to the choir room, I was helping Rory get slushie out of his hair and we-"

"Shut up!" Kurt cut in.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" Blaine questioned, stopping in the middle of the hall to put a hand on his hip even though he knew very well that Kurt couldn't see him do it.

"Yes, you need to get... oh my god."

"Kurt? What the hell's wro-" Blaine was cut off when a pre-recorded voice suddenly echoed throughout the halls via the loud speaker.

Lock down, repeat, lock down. This is not a drill. Lock down, repeat, lock down. This is not a drill.

"What's that?" Rory asked, looking around curiously as Blaine fought to keep breathing.

"Someone brought a gun." Blaine whispered, his eyes wide. Sure it was one thing to know the drills for when someone was on campus with a weapon that posed a threat to the greater student body. But it was another thing to live it.

"What!?" Rory nearly yelped.

Blaine leaped forward, slapping his hand over the Irish boy's mouth. "Shhh." He hissed, just then cluing in to the fact that Kurt was still talking on the other end of the phone.

"You need to get to a class room before they're all closed!" Kurt urged.

"You know the rules, they won't open the doors for anyone but a cop." Blaine said in a rushed whisper to Kurt as he grabbed Rory's wrist, pulling him forward and down the hall.

"Come to senior history, Mr. Schue will let you in, I'll tell him you're coming."

"We're two floors down!"

"Just get here!" Kurt nearly ordered.

"We're coming!" Blaine hissed back before shutting his phone off, slipping it into his back pocket. "We need to get to Mr. Schue's history class, he'll let us in." Blaine said to Rory, who looked about ready to piss his pants. It was obvious he was not use to the idea that a school even needed a plan for people showing up with guns, it was all so crazy.

The two managed to get up the two floors they needed too, the sounds of sirens could be heard from outside the windows, which just cemented the whole fact that this was real, it was really happening. They rushed around a corned only to skid to a sudden halt, standing in front of them and not more than two feet from the very class they were heading too, was a small looking teen dressed in black. His back was too them, but they could see his arm up, pointing  a gun at a larger boy in a Letterman's jacket. Blaine looked over to the jock, recognizing him from the day before. "I'm sorry!" He sobbed out, not even trying to hide his terrified tears as the other teen pointed a automatic handgun at him.

"Sorry's not good enough!" He snapped, shaking the gun angrily. Blaine saw a series of bright red raw gashes on the nape of the boy's neck, dipping down beneath his dark shirt. He was the boy from the dumpster, Blaine didn't even need to see his face to know it. 

Blaine and Rory started inching backward, trying to get out of view. Blaine locked eyes with the terrified jock who looked about a second from calling out to him, so he put his finger up to his mouth to motion the boy to be silent. Reaching into his pocket to pull out his cell, he waved it in the air to allow the current hostage to see it, hoping that he would get what Blaine was trying to say. He wasn't running away and leaving him alone, he just needed a second to call the police outside to ask them what to do. Of course that was right when the phone rang, Kurt's ring tone sounding loudly in the hall, causing Blaine and Rory to cringe. "Dammit!" He hissed as the boy in front of them whirled around, his gun pointing wildly at them in surprise.

"Put it down!" He ordered, Blaine doing as he was told, bending down slowly to place the mobile on the floor, but not before hitting the answer button.

"It's down, we're cool." Blaine said calmly, which surprised the hell out of him because he felt like he was about a second from crying for his mommy. He held his hands up in surrender, Rory doing the same, standing just slightly behind and to the left of him.

"Get over here." The boy said, motioning with a little wave of the gun. Rory and Blaine both shuffled carefully around the boy to stand next to the jock, their hands still up.

"Let's stay calm." Blaine said, unsure where he was even finding his voice right then, but he hoped to whatever god there was that it didn't go away. "Wanna tell me what's up?" He asked, only to get a curt laugh in return. "Come on man, what's up with the gun?"

"Don't!" The boy shouted, pointing the gun completely at Blaine this time.

"Don't what?"

"Don't talk to me like you fucking know me! You don't know me!"

"I might not know your name, but I know about you." Blaine offered.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you're new here. People make fun of you because you dress sort of funny and are in the AV club. You have a slushie tossed in your face at least once a week, and yesterday you were tossed into a dumpster full of glass that left you cut up." Blaine said evenly.

"How... how do you know that?"

"Because, I was you at the beginning of the year." Blaine explained. "I wear clothes that sort of stand out, I'm in the glee club and more than once I've had the word 'fag' painted on my gym locker. My first slushie nearly blinded me, and my first dumpster toss ruined my favorite pair of jeans when a jagged can sliced through them and jammed into my thigh." Blaine smiled a wary little smile. "Three stitches." He held up his fingers in the number. "And a whole slue of antibiotics to make sure it didn't infect."

Inside the classroom, Kurt had his cellphone on speaker as his friends all huddled around to listen to what was going on outside the blocked off door. The lights were out and the window covered so no one could see in, everyone was ducked down on the floor quietly. A few people where crying softly, clinging to one another in fear. "Is any of that true?" Rachel asked Kurt gently.

"Yeah." He nodded. "It was after school the first week he was here, a couple of the guys from the hockey team got him, tossed him the dumpster. His dad was pissed, threatened to send him back to Dalton."

"That's horrible! Why didn't tell me?" Rachel asked.

"Contrary to popular belief, not everything at this school involves you!" Kurt snapped softly, his tone full of venom. He didn't mean to be rude to her, but he was extremely stressed and it was coming out in the form of bitchy retorts.

"It's tough." Blaine said, hands still up as he continued to attempt to talk the boy down. "Being the new kid, being hated for no reason. I know, hell, people who I've known for months, I sometimes feel like they still hate me. Fake friends who put up with me just because I happen to be dating their friend or family member."

At that Kurt shot a scathing look at Finn, who had enough sense to look upset at the words he had just heard through the phone. Did Blaine really feel like that? He thought they had worked everything out, they were cool now.

"And you know what?" Blaine continued, looking straight into the boy's sad and scared blue eyes, not once letting his gaze waver. "Sometimes I want nothing more than to punch them in the face, to make them hurt, because I think it'll make me feel better. Teach them a lesson, but I never do, because I know it wouldn't. You can't force someone to change, they need to come to it on their own."

"They won't!" The boy snapped, scared and angry tears slipping down his flushed cheeks.

"They will, because they're human, and we're not inherently evil. You know we're not, we're just stupid and slow and it takes time to realize that we don't want to be that kind of person. We want to be good, you want to be good. You do don't you?" He asked, the boy's arm slowly lowering in an almost tired manner. "You want to be good, you are good. You're not this, you're better than this. You know you are." Blaine coaxed, taking a small step forward. "You don't want to hurt anyone, you can't go back from that. If you pull that trigger, everything is gone. But right now, there's still time. Time to be good."

Kurt and everyone listened intently to Blaine's speech from the other side of the door, most of them staring at the phone in Kurt's hand like it was Blaine himself. A silent tear slipped down Kurt's cheek as he closed his eyes, letting Blaine's words wash over him. Please listen, please be good, please. He thought to himself, willing the gunman to hear his thoughts, to feel them. To know that everyone in that class could hear his pain, that they were rooting for him, that they were sorry and that he was good, so good.

"Be good." Blaine said softly, reaching forward to grasp at the boy's arm as he let out a small broken sob. It was so close to being over, so very close. All Blaine needed was to get the gun, to take it away and put it on the ground. It was so simple, it should have been so simple. But it wasn't, because apparently the jock standing next to him felt like he needed to be the hero suddenly, lunging forward to grab at the gun. "No!" Blaine shouted as the two boy's wrestled, Blaine turning to grab Rory and give him a shove out of the way, the Irish boy's back slamming roughly against the class room door, causing the people on the other side to jump. It was a flurry of movement, three people all fighting. Blaine trying to pull the jock off the gunman while said jock tried to yank the gun out of the smaller boy's hand. The scuffle could he heard inside the class, everyone holding their breath as the footfalls and grunts sounded through the phone and through the door. When a shot rang out, everyone jumped, a few of the girls letting out small screams from behind their hands that were pressed to their mouths in shock. "Blaine?" Kurt looked up towards the door, the silence that hung in the air was thick, weighing heavy on him as he dropped his phone onto the ground with a clatter. He stood and rushed toward the door, only to be grabbed by Mr. Schue. "No! Blaine!?" He shouted, trying to get out of the hold. Kurt didn't know what had happened beyond the door, but he needed to find out.

Outside, everyone was breathing heavy, Rory stood up from where he had ducked down against the door instinctively when the shot rang out, covering his head with his arms. He looked over at the three boys who were all standing in the middle of the hall, not moving. The smaller of the three stood behind Blaine, the gun smoking, the wisps curling up from it's barrel, circling toward the ceiling. The jock was standing in front of Blaine, looking down at his chest, breathing heavily as he stare at his bloodstained shirt in horror. Blaine was gazing at him, his mouth agape. "What -" He said, trailing off as he looked down at the shirt of the boy in front of him. "Happened?" As the word left Blaine's mouth he collapsed in a heap.

"Blaine!" Rory shouted as he rushed forward, dropping down on the ground next to his friend, watching a seeping red blotch on the back of his shirt just below his left shoulder blade slowly begin to form. Rory quickly rolled him over, seeing the same type of seeping on the front of Blane's shirt, the spot getting bigger and bigger as he continued to bleed. "What did you do!?" Rory screamed at the terrified boy who was shaking from head to toe, gun still in hand. "What did you do!?"

Just then the door to class opened, Kurt running out, the sound of Mr. Shue shouting for him to stop could he heard. "Blaine!?" He cried, dropping to his knees next to his boyfriend. "Blaine? Baby, come on, don't do this." He said, tearing streaming down his face as he placed his hands over Blaine's wound, not caring about the blood staining his skin.

"I... it.... it hurts less than I thought it would." Blaine said softly, his voice quivering.

"You're in shock." Kurt said. "Help!" He shouted toward the class, only to hear Rachel call out for Finn to stop. But he obviously didn't listen since a moment later he rushed out of the class, followed closely by Puck and Mike. 

"Why'd you grab that gun!?" Rory shouted at the jock in an angry tone. "He almost had it!"

"I didn't... I didn't mean too." The jock said, staring at Blaine, knowing that he had his blood covering his shirt. They all looked up when the gunman very suddenly took off in a run, gun still in hand.

"We need the paramedics." Mike said from where he knelt with Blaine's head leaning against his knees like they were a pillow, his hands on his best friend's cheeks, keeping his head from lulling to the side as the blood loss started to get to him.

"I'm on it." Puck said, talking off in a sprint down the hall, the opposite way that the gun toting boy had gone.

"Blaine, please baby, hold on." Kurt cried, leaning over his boyfriend.

"You're not allowed to leave man." Finn said, his voice hitching as he knelt next to Kurt, putting an arm around him.

"I love you." Blaine said to Kurt through lidded eyes, his words slurring slightly.

Kurt let out a choked sob, leaning forward to place his forehead against Blaine's, feeling Mike's thumbs brush against his temples as he did so. "I love you too." His whispered, kissing him gently. The rest of the students stood in the doorway and hall, watching. Rachel was sobbing against Mr.Schue, her hand fisting his shirt as Brittany and Santana clung to each other, silent tears slipping down their faces. Mercedes cried against Sam silently, as he held her tightly, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Everyone in that history class watched as Kurt slowly lost his boyfriend, unable to stop the nothingness that was pulling at Blaine. "You can't leave me, I need you." Kurt wept.

"M'sorry." Blaine muttered, his eyes slipping close.

"Don't be sorry, stay me with. Please. Blaine?.... Blaine?" Kurt wailed as he broke down, leaning forward against his boyfriend's chest, fisting his shirt as Finn's arms tightened around him, pulling him back. "No."

"Come on man, let them work." He said gently, causing Kurt to look up, he hadn't even noticed that Puck was back with the paramedics. "Let them work." Finn coaxed, pulling his brother away from Blaine's stilled body, holding the shorter boy to his chest as Kurt sobbed against him.

Kurt stood in his bedroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. There was something off about his hair, and it was driving him insane. He fiddled with it a bit more before deciding that no, it wasn't his hair that was the problem, it was his tie, it was all wrong. With a huff he yanked the thin piece of fabric from around his neck, tossing it onto his bed. He needed some color, something nice to go with the simple black suit he was currently wearing. There was suddenly a knock on the door, it opening a crack after a moment. Kurt looked over to see his father standing in the doorway. "Hey kiddo." The man said softly. "Almost ready?" He asked.

"Almost, I just need a decent tie." Kurt said with a sigh, staring at himself in the mirror again. "I can't do this." He muttered quietly.

"You don't have too." Burt offered. "No one would think less of you if you didn't go." 

"No, I need too, for him." Kurt said, looking over at his father mournfully. "He needs me."

"I know." Burt said with a little nod. "We'll be waiting downstairs."

The Hudson-Hummel's walked into the church just before the service began, Kurt noticing the faces of all his friends sitting in the pews, a sea of somber black. It made his stomach turn as he walked froward to take a seat, noticing Finn going over to sit next to Rachel and her fathers. Kurt was silent as he stared up at the deep colored casket, a wreath of white flowers perched atop it. They were a stark contrast to the dark muted colors of the surrounding room, which allowed Kurt to get lost in them, staring until his eyes lost focus. Not looking so much at that flowers, more like he was looking through them. He started slightly when a hand slipped into his, the boy looking over to see Blaine sit down in the pew next to him. "Hi." The shorter boy said.

"Hi." Kurt replied quietly.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming."

"You needed me too." Kurt said with a shrug.

"I did." Blaine agreed as he looked up at the casket, his eyes drifting to the picture sitting on it next to the flowers. It was of a happy smiling boy, with eyes that were clear and free of fear and sadness. Blaine bowed his head as the preacher started up his speech; "It's always a sad day when a young person is troubled enough to take his own life, Mitchel Harris had lost his way but we hope that wherever he is now, he has found his way, he has found peace...."

And now I know your name. Blaine thought mournfully, squeezing Kurt's hand. The two looked at each other at the same time, their eyes meeting for a breathless moment. 'I love you' Blaine mouthed silently.

'I love you too." Kurt mouthed back before he turned his attention back to the service, content with the warm feeling of Blaine's hand in his own, determined to never lose that sensation ever again.