Kurt rubbed his hands together and pulled them up to his face breathing against his knuckles hoping to warm them up in the New York winter's cold air and then tried to pull his light jacket over him further.
Frowning he looked back to the nearest buildings where he had smelt something cooking inside a warm looking house when standing on the pathway, he usually tried avoiding himself to do that, but for some reason tonight in the spirit of Christmas he liked to think a lot. He thought about what they were cooking. It appeared to be what could be a roast dinner, with laughter coming from the windows.
A thought of his father on Christmas day cooking a chicken bought a lump to his throat and he finally moved on.
"I'm so disappointed in you Kurt,"
Kurt lowered his head even more at the memory as tears gathered and kept walking until he came up to Central Park, he found a bench near a beautiful bridge that he always liked to walk on when he woke up and with little strength he crawled into a ball in a sleeping position on the corner of the bench hoping to keep himself warmer as he hid his face in his elbow.
He always missed his dad when it was Christmas, he knew it had to be Christmas when there was trees out and fireworks exploding in unknown areas, because that's why he had gone out longer than usual on his walk looking at the lights, and watching the fireworks from different places. Sometimes he went to the shelter if he was desperate for food, but some of the juvenile drop outs that ended up there made sure they knew that he was unwelcomed, because of his disease of being gay, and that they deserved the right to be alive more than he did.
"Oi! You little shithead,"
Kurt winced. Please not today. This was an example of one that liked to roam the streets in hopes to find drugs.
"Hey I'm talking to you faggot, why don't you look me in the eye like your stupid fuck buddies? You little fairy,"
Kurt's stayed where he was, sometimes they left him alone, and he had hoped tonight was one of those times.
He was startled alert when the guy that had screamed at him invaded his privacy and shook his shoulders.
"I said look at me princess. Got any drugs? I bet that's why you were gone longer weren't you; you like to keep it all to yourself,"
"Please I don't have any," Kurt whispered, teeth clattering together from the cold.
The man punched him.
Kurt didn't even hear himself scream in the next punch or see the blood come out of his nose before everything went black.
Darkness was all around him, he knew he was still alive because there was no white light as everyone claimed there to be when you died. Not that he believed in heaven anyway.
He couldn't after they took his father away. Was this what dying was like? Constant pain and blackness everywhere?
But then there was a voice.
"Open your eyes," It was saying.
How?
"That's it. Open them just a little bit for me,"
All he did was move his eyelids.
He didn't know how to open them.
He thought he was dead. Maybe he should be dead.
It hurt
Everything hurt.
"Don't give up on me,"
Since when did anyone care?
He could feel himself slipping again, but strong arms lifted him up.
He must be alive because he felt the wind, and suddenly he groaned from how cold that wind hit him like lightning.
"Sh…It'll be alright, I'll get you somewhere safe,"
Let me die, he thought furiously.
"W…"
Who are you?
Why didn't he let him die?
The arms tightened under him as he felt himself moving. The pain increased and he whimpered.
"It's alright," The voice was of a man.
A gentle man, who walked holding him at least an hour.
"Sorry my apartment's not far from here,"
Why are you sorry?
Kurt finally gathered some strength in his body and turned a bit so he could keep warmer against the man's jacket.
Kurt's head throbbed with pain.
He felt a warm cloth on his forehead, and the sudden movement caused his eyes to flatter open slowly. He had fallen asleep and was now in some room.
He was met with a pair of hazel brown eyes.
"Hi," The man smiled as he continued pressing the cloth gently to his forehead.
Kurt started coughing.
The stranger looked concerned, and his eyebrows raised in alarm as he reached his hand out to grip his shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
Kurt swayed his head a bit.
He felt really light headed, but he nodded twice so the man could relax.
It was the least he could do.
The cloth on his forehead disappeared and his head lifted as the stranger put a soft piece of material behind his head. He turned a bit and saw it was a pillow.
He had forgotten what a pillow felt like, and he stared at it blankly.
"My name's Blaine, you're probably terrified, but I found you in Central Park, you um….you were attacked,"
I know.
"I know this might seem a little strange right now, but I've been there, and the least I could do is take you home and find out where your family is, they must be worried sick,"
Kurt shook his head.
Blaine was about to say more but stopped as he watched Kurt.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Kurt nodded.
"I'm sorry, I really am, but I couldn't leave you there, and I don't think your family knows, and you were hurt badly, I…um, I cleaned you up a bit while you were asleep, I hope you don't mind,"
Kurt shook his head again, and then frowned.
Now Blaine looked really clueless.
"Do you know where you are?" He asked carefully.
Kurt opened his mouth surprised that it was working.
"Y…your apartment, m…my name's ..K…Kurt,"
Blaine stilled as he heard him speak, but then smiled.
"I'm glad whoever did this to you didn't damage your voice,"
Then realisation hit him.
"Oh god that was rude I'm…"
Kurt lifted a hand towards his lips blushing, and placed his finger across it to shut him up, which had immediate effect.
"Do…n't…"
He breathed in deeply, and Blaine continued to watch him.
"D..on't apologise,"
Blaine nodded.
"Okay,"
Blaine reached over and tucked Kurt's blanket around him which he also hadn't noticed.
That was why he was so warm.
He stared at Blaine's hand like a worthless doll.
His eyes started to flatter shut again as Blaine tucked him around the edges and fluffed up the extra pillow that was behind his bed. It felt nice.
It felt like he had died, but the proper way. His body didn't even feel now, it just went limp by the sudden comfort.
Maybe if he closed his eyes he could finally rest.
It didn't last long.
"Why is there a boy in your bed?!"
"Coop! Shh, he's asleep,"
"Yeah I'm aware. Again why IS there a boy in your bed, I thought I asked you to respect my rules when you came to live with me Blaine, you know I have no problem with you being gay, but it doesn't mean I want you having sex in my apartment!"
Kurt didn't mean to listen in, but he couldn't do anything else, and he was too frightened to open his eyes at the what must be the owner of Blaine's apartment. Not only that, he didn't have the energy to get up and run like he wanted to.
"For christ sake Cooper, look at him, does he look like someone I slept with in a passion one night stand? I don't do those things, you know that, and you should know I always tell you about my personal life if I ever find someone which I haven't, but it's not fair for you to have rules, anyway because you're not even here most of the time," Blaine whispered.
"Well somebody has to pay the Rent," Cooper fumed, but then the voices stopped, as Kurt got courage to open his eyes and widened at the sight of the two boys in front of him. Well Blaine was in front of him and Cooper was in the doorway looking at him like he'd seen a ghost.
"Oh my god," Cooper muttered.
Blaine gave him an apologetic look as Cooper walked over to him and grabbed his hand that he had lifted from his pillow into the air trying to push himself up from the bed in an attempt to run. Whether that hurt or not.
Kurt winced.
"Gentle Coop,"
"Why didn't you tell me he was bleeding?" Cooper accused Blaine and then glanced at Kurt lowering his arm.
"Someone attacked him, and I saw the attacker pull him of the bench he was on which caused that scratch under his arm, I was about to clean it," Blaine added.
"Who did this to you?" Cooper finally calmed down looking back at Kurt.
"Cooper," Blaine warned.
"No, I have a right to know who attacked your friend,"
Kurt wondered why Blaine didn't correct him on the friend part.
"….Enemy,"
"You have an enemy?" Cooper asked frowning.
"I…I'm gay, please…please don't hurt me," Kurt supplied lowering his head.
Cooper sighed.
Blaine was at his feet next to his bed in a second and took his arm of Cooper into his own.
"No one's going to hurt you,"
"Yeah Blaine's gay too. I have a no bullying policy here. What do you mean they pulled him of the bench?" Cooper asked suddenly.
Blaine bit his lip.
"I found him just as he was getting attacked…I um, punched the guy in the face, and he seemed to be shocked, so he left, he would have killed him, if he kept punching him."
Cooper chuckled, a slight grin on his face.
"You…punched…Alright, alright, he can stay, but you have to take care of him, get him checked out by the doctor to make sure he has no broken bones. If he does, find his family, and if they can't help him I'll contribute with my work money. We can compromise, I cook, clean the house, and you nurse him till he gets back on his feet, okay?"
Blaine nodded eagerly as Kurt eyes grew even wider if possible at the offer.
Just like that Cooper left to do something at one more look at Kurt, with a kind smile.
"Welcome to the Anderson's apartment, I'm gonna cook us some lunch,"
Blaine instantly sighed as Cooper left.
"Sorry we woke you, I didn't think he'd be home today,"
Kurt didn't say anything.
"Coop's my brother, if you didn't already get that, now…did you…did you want me to ring anyone? Or let you borrow a phone?
Kurt's face scrunched up, and he closed his eyes before looking scared at Blaine at what the kind man would think of the person he saved.
"There's no one to ring,"
"Family?"
"No,"
"Workmates?"
"No,"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes,"
Blaine looked unconvinced.
"I'm…homeless,"
The smoothness of Blaine's thumb on his cheek wiping away a tear brought his eyes back to the man's face.
"Good thing I found you then,"
