This began as a oneshot. I knew it would be a long one, but that was my intent. Then it was ten pages…then twenty, and I'm not even halfway done. There was just so much more that needed to be said than I originally thought. Needless to say, it's now a multi-chapter. This is also completely opposite from my other story. Like, completely polar opposite.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy.
Warning: This does center around main character rape. There isn't an in-depth description, but there will be some description in later chapters.
It's 3:23 am when Kurt finally stumbles into his house. There's tears tracking his cheeks, mixing readily with the blood on his face and lip, a small gash on his forehead dripping crimson. He's limping. His eyes are dull. The black and blue is already blossoming on his arms, face, areas unseen as they are shielded by a thin layer of clothing. His shirt is torn, hanging off of one shoulder. There's blood (so much blood) staining his white jeans.
The tears won't stop. He tries making them, but they won't stay in.
It's the sound of his broken body collapsing to the floor that arouses Finn from his nap on the couch. He'd promised Burt he'd wait up for him. As he sees his brother's body lying bleeding, bruising, breaking the emotions come all at once. He swallows his red fury (all he sees is red and it's not just blood), yells to his parents. He's taking Kurt in his arms and choking back tears when he hears a gasp paired with heavy breathing, and all he smells is fear.
His brother's blood is staining his t-shirt as he holds him close in the car, but he doesn't care. He needs Kurt to just wake up.
The waiting room is white. It reeks of bleach trying to cover up death. The walls are made of tears and stained with memories thrown against it as the fear creeps in. No one in this room knows a thing, and they're all preparing for the worst.
Finn smells of blood.
It's Burt who finally has the insight to call Blaine. Even though it's 4:43 am, he's not surprised when it's answered on the second ring.
"Mr. Hummel?"
"Hey, kid." He's exhausted. Tear coated throat because he's not as strong as he pretends he is.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"I…" He attempts to speak, but it doesn't work. He can't say it, "Kid, you're gonna want to come to Lima General Hospital."
"Give me 15 minutes."
Instead of pointing out that it takes at least an hour and a half, Burt hangs up.
Finn is contemplating telling New Directions that he's at a hospital at 5 in the morning because his brother is on the edge of life and death, but all he can do is stare. At his phone. The walls. Thumb hovering over the call button, trying so hard to breathe.
The person he finally calls is unexpected.
Burt isn't sure how he did it, but somehow, 25 minutes later, Blaine Anderson is rushing through the doors, curly hair flying everywhere, dressed in sweat pants, two different Chuck Taylors, and the hoodie Kurt bought him for his birthday. He is closely followed by a one Noah Puckerman who goes straight to Finn and lets him cry.
Blaine's hazel eyes are terrified, bloodshot, mildly swollen.
Burt takes a deep breath.
"Kurt went out with some friends last night. He told me he'd be home by midnight. I waited up until one, then Finn took over. Next thing I know, Finn's yelling and then I'm seeing him holding my son in his arms as he's bleeding and bruised and…he wasn't conscious when we brought him here. He had cuts and stab wounds that needed immediate surgery. They…they don't know whether or not he'll be okay."
He watches his son's ex-boyfriend sink to his knees. There's those damn tears again. Salty and bitter.
Burt sits next to him, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and they cry together. Because neither one of them cares about being strong or boundaries or distance. The man Blaine has sworn to marry and the boy Burt has protected since the day he was born is about to die, and they don't know what they're going to do.
Carole comes back from getting coffee to Blaine and Burt sitting next to one another in plastic chairs in silence and Finn and Puck speaking in soft whispers. Blaine is staring at the wall. Burt gets up and holds her close to him. She feels that he's about to crumble to pieces, so she holds him back, whispering love and comfort into his ear and hoping it'll be of some worth.
The coffee's getting cold.
3 hours have slid by.
"I never stopped loving him. Not for a second." Blaine finally croaks. It's the first words he has spoken since arriving.
"I know, kid. I know."
Blaine doesn't say he's afraid Kurt never will.
In total, between five cell phones, 39 calls have been ignored. The doctors won't talk and no one knows how to feel and Blaine just needs to kiss him again.
It is 9:04 am when the doctor comes into the room. She looks exhausted.
"Family of Kurt Hummel?" She has a doctor voice, and Blaine finally responds. He stands between Puck and Finn, leaning gently on Finn.
"Yeah, that's us." Burt speaks.
"The good news is that physically, Kurt is going to be okay. His wounds were severe and he suffered from a nearly fatal amount of blood loss, but thanks to the surgery and blood transfusions, we were able to bring him back."
A sigh of relief.
Blaine isn't so convinced.
"Physically?"
Five pairs of eyes stare at him.
"You said that physically, he's going to be fine. What does that mean?"
The doctor takes in a sharp breath.
"Mr. Hummel, were you aware when you brought in your son that…" She sighs, "That he'd been raped?"
Blaine's fists clench, his jaw sets, and he feels like he has been punched in the gut. His blood is ice. He sees nothing but red.
"Raped?"
"Yes. We found severe bruising in the shape of hands on your son's upper thighs, evidence of semen, and-"
"I don't need to know the details." Burt mumbles. He looks like he's going to be sick. Carole is supporting him. Doctor nods.
"He's still under the effects of anesthesia and intense pain killers, so he can't make a statement, but we will have to contact the authorities. If, of course, you want to press char-"
"We're pressing charges." Monotone.
"Right. We will get that taken care of. Since they can't talk to Kurt, they'll want to talk to all of you. Be prepared." And she walks away.
Blaine punches a hole in the wall.
Part of Burt is relieved to see him acting so unlike the dapper, put together Blaine Anderson he always is. The other part knows the kid is blaming himself.
Puck places a hand on his shoulder. Blaine turns to him, shaking, eyes blazing with unshed tears. He leads him in the direction of the bathroom.
Burt collapses into a plastic chair.
The word won't leave his mind.
"Punching holes in walls doesn't help." He hands Blaine a wet paper towel which he gingerly presses onto his raw knuckles.
"Sure as hell feels like it does."
Puck chuckles, "I'll give you that. It helps right now. But all you're going to have tomorrow is throbbing pain and more anger than you started with. Trust me, I know."
"Aren't you supposed to be some big tough guy? I'm surprised you don't want to find the sick, disgusting low life who did this and bash his head in as much as I do." Blaine spits out, eyeing him. Puck doesn't even flinch.
"If you think I don't want to tear him limb from limb, you are sorely mistaken. Nobody messes with my boy and gets away with it. But I know Kurt. And even though I wanted to break your face in when I heard that you dumped him," Blaine does flinch, "I know he still loves you. And you still love him or else you wouldn't be here. I also know that Kurt doesn't need us hunting down some douche bag and committing a capital one felony right now. He needs us here, waiting for him when he wakes up, especially you. So push your anger down and focus on Kurt. He needs you."
Blaine nods with a sigh. He stands up from his sitting position on the floor and tosses the paper towel in the trash.
"Anderson?"
"Hmm?"
"You might want to get that wrapped in some bandages or something. If you don't, it'll be a whole lot worse tomorrow."
"Okay. Thanks, Noah."
He starts to leave.
"One more thing, hobbit. If you ever break his heart again, I won't wait to hunt you down and actually beat your face in, then proceed to bury you. Where you will never be found. Understood?"
A gulp, "Yeah."
"Good. Go get that taken care of."
He does.
"What happened?"
He doesn't answer.
She doesn't push.
"Whoever they are, I'm sure they'll be okay."
"Finn, man. When are you plannin' on tellin' everyone else?" Puck is at his side again. Because there's that unspoken promise of best friends between them that will never die.
Finn shrugs.
"Not yet. Not until he heals a bit. I just can't bring myself to do it."
Puck nods.
"Okay."
It's times like these when Burt is eternally grateful for Carole. If he was alone with his son in a hospital bed, recovering from rape, he's not sure what he would do. She's wrapped in his arms, and he's breathing in the scent he is quickly associating with home. She's quiet, breathing slowly, keeping herself together surprisingly well.
"Thank you." He whispers into her hair.
"He's my son, too."
With 21 voicemails from Wes, 13 from David, 5 from his mother, and 56 unread text messages, Blaine suddenly hates technology. He calls Wes.
"Dude! Where are you? I've been worried sick! You've been officially MIA for 8 and a half hours! Jeff told me you ran out of your dorm room this morning at 4:30 like the place was on fire, and I have called you at least 40 times with no answer! Do you have-?"
"Kurt is in the hospital."
Wes is silent.
"We'll be there in an hour."
"No, Wes. You don't need to come here. He's going to be okay, he just…" He starts to choke up. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Blaine. We are your best friends. We're coming. Which hospital?"
Blaine considers arguing, but he can't deny that he needs his best friends right now.
"Lima General Hospital."
"Okay, man. We'll be there soon."
A click.
He falls into a chair with his face in his hands.
No. What he needs is Kurt.
When he wanders back to the original room, Burt isn't there.
"He went to see Kurt, honey." Carole supplies.
"Is he awake?" Hope.
"Kind of. He's in and out. Has been for about a half hour." She explains. He nods and flops into a chair. He heaves a sigh, running a hand down the length of his face.
"Blaine, honey? Why don't you get some sleep? You look ready to fall over at any second."
He shakes his head.
"I…I can't."
She understands.
20 minutes pass. Burt enters with tears in his eyes.
"Blaine? Why don't you go on." He says. Blaine looks up.
"Are you sure that's okay?"
"Yeah, kid. Go on."
But before he can leave, Burt catches him in a bear hug, the kind he always gives Kurt.
"Thank you, Blaine. For being here for Kurt. You're the best thing that's ever happened to my son."
He doesn't know what to say, so he just nods and goes to Kurt.
"Finn?"
"Wes? David? What are you guys doing here?" Finn is always confused.
"Blaine told us that Kurt's in the hospital. Which led us to the conclusion that he's about 5 seconds away from a total mental breakdown." Wes says.
"When it comes to Kurt…he doesn't handle things well." David continues.
"Well, considering the hole he put in the wall about an hour ago, I'd say he's there." Puck responds, gesturing towards the gaping hole.
"It's worse than we thought. Where is he?"
"He went to see Kurt. I think you guys should just stay here and wait for him. He needs this." Finn says, glancing towards the doors. As he does, his phone vibrates in his pocket.
'We're meeting with the police. Stay put so we can find you. I love you.'
Finn reads the text message from his mom in his mind and sighs.
This day blows.