I Walk a Lonely Road

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Till then I walk alone

Blaine Anderson had never spoken to Kurt Hummel despite sharing a few classes with the boy. He knew Kurt was a junior like him and Blaine thought his comments during English class were always interesting and thought provoking – Kurt had a talent for noticing details most people overlooked – but they had never talked. Kurt usually sat in the first rows while Blaine always sat in a corner in the back in every class he had. Blaine didn't have anything against Kurt, he just didn't talk much to people unless it was necessary. People, no matter how harmless they might have seemed, had a tendency to bring trouble and disappointment and Blaine wasn't interested in either. Most of his classmates considered him a loner and left him alone, and as long as his marks were steady so did the teachers. It was safer for everybody involved.

It wasn't until Ms. Holly Holliday subbed for his English class that Blaine found himself in close proximity to Kurt. Apparently she thought having half of the class switch seating would be a good way to 'shake things up' and that's how Kurt ended up sitting in the last row of the class at the desk previously occupied by Blaine only. Kurt didn't seem fazed by the switch, even though his friend Tina didn't look pleased at all to see Kurt replaced with Brett, one of the resident stoners.

It didn't take long for Kurt to shatter Blaine's previously neutral-leaning-on-decent opinion of him. It was Blaine's own fault really. He shouldn't have said "Wow, I thought teachers like this only existed in movies. Can you believe her?". He had meant it as a compliment and thought the boy would agree with him since he was smiling in a way Blaine had never seen him do in class. Not that Blaine cared but he was a natural observer.

Kurt barely glanced at him as he pulled a disgusted face, "You smell homeless, Blaine. Homeless."

Fear shot through Blaine like a jolt of electricity and his heart skipped a beat. Kurt wasn't even looking at him but Blaine could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, shame and anger boiling up in him. He took a steadying breath, his hands balling up into fists on his knees. There was no way Kurt knew. There was no way anybody knew.

Blaine always prioritized personal hygiene. It was important for his health, it was necessary to keep up appearances, and it was paramount if he wanted to keep his sanity. When he had at first found himself living on the streets he had gone almost a month without a shower, only managing to wash in bits and pieces in public bathrooms. That on top of the stress, loneliness and fear accumulated during those weeks had almost driven him to madness. Now, almost a year later, he had a system that allowed him to shower regularly even if not every day. It was easier when school was in because he could use the showers in the boys' locker room under the pretence of doing some exercise in the gym, preferably when no one was around so he didn't have to pretend and could just shower – he got plenty of exercise riding around town on his bike, thank you very much. He did not smell. His clothes did, though. They were due for laundry and Blaine could distinctly pick out the smell of the frying oil they used in the pizzeria he worked at. Sometimes he just didn't have the time or energy or the change to spare to go to a Laundromat. It was hard when he had to go to school, do homework and then work till late at night just to make sure he had enough money to eat or occasionally buy himself a few hours of sleep on an actual bed in a shady motel at the edge of town where they didn't ask many questions.

Kurt was just a jackass who didn't know how good he had it.

Blaine wanted to grab his backpack and storm out. He wanted to scream that it wasn't his fault and that Kurt didn't know what the hell he was talking about. A part of him wanted to cry because when he was alone at night with nothing to hold on to that part of him still wondered if it had been his fault.

Instead he kept silent, clenched his jaw and stared ahead, pretending to listen to Ms. Holliday until the bell rang. Then he leant in just enough so Kurt would know he was talking to him and muttered, "You're a jerk, you know that?" with venom before exiting the room.

That was his first mistake.

His second mistake was thinking that ignoring the mere existence of the boy who had inadvertently humiliated him would be easy. It wasn't an unfounded hope, after all they had managed not to cross paths for almost a year, but it suddenly seemed like Kurt was now everywhere. Perhaps Blaine's still burning embarrassment had made him hyperaware of the other boy, like he would be to a threat while alone on the streets, or maybe it was simply too hard to turn a blind eye to what he was seeing.

Because now that Blaine was actually looking it didn't take a genius to realize that Kurt didn't have it so good, at least not at school. For Blaine school was the only place where he felt normal. It was the only place where he got to do regular things like attending lessons, turning in homework and spending hours in the library studying for a test. He was safe there. Every time he stepped out of those doors the reality of having no place to go and no one who cared slammed back on him with a million worries.

How much time do I have before work? What am I going to eat? Am I going to eat or should I save the money? Can I go one more night without dinner? Will I get jumped/robbed/assaulted leaving work after midnight? Where will I sleep? Will it rain? Will it be too cold? Should I use the money to sleep somewhere warm?

What if someone finds out?

What if it gets worse?

Surely Kurt didn't have to worry about those kind of things (his wardrobe spoke for itself) but school definitely wasn't a safe place for him.

Blaine was aware that bullying was a common practice at McKinley, everybody was, but he had somehow always managed to stay out of the way and out of reach of the bullies. It repulsed him having to turn a blind eye on it but he had already gone through hell at his former high school and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of torment on top of his current situation.

Kurt wasn't as lucky. In the course of the following three weeks Blaine rapidly lost count of how many times he saw Kurt being roughly pushed into lockers, loudly called horrible names, slushied or thrown into dumpsters.

He also caught Kurt staring a few times and one particular instance left him puzzled. One morning Blaine was locking his bike when he saw Kurt pushing his friend's wheelchair as they crossed the parking lot with Tina. Blaine immediately averted his eyes and went back to his business but couldn't help noticing when Kurt suddenly stopped and Blaine looked up to see Kurt staring at him like he had seen a ghost. Blaine had no idea why as he wasn't wearing anything flashy – he never did, that would catch people's attention – but he couldn't help the slight glare he sent Kurt's way. Kurt blinked, obviously realizing he had been caught, and moved on. Blaine figured the boy was probably offended by his clothes this time and imagined he would say something snarky about how the colors didn't match, which they didn't, but that was the kind of preoccupation that took a backseat when you lived on the streets and shopped at Goodwill.

He didn't think too much about it until one Saturday morning he woke up to find himself covered with an unfamiliar coat. Blaine's first terrified thought was that someone had approached him while he was sleeping and he hadn't noticed. That was the main reason why he normally avoided sleeping in parks, it was too public, too much of a risk of being caught or worse, assaulted, but the night before he had gotten off work later than usual and had been too tired to ride his bike anywhere else. He consoled himself thinking at least he had been lucky and nothing bad had happened.

He took a closer look at the coat, it was black, probably made of wool but not too thick, warm without being too much for early November, clearly of refined quality. He traced his fingers over the lapel until they bumped into something.

Something Blaine recognized.

~:~

On Monday Blaine saw Kurt making his way through the parking lot during lunch break and took the chance to corner him. "What is this?" he asked as he pushed the coat at Kurt, who instinctively recoiled and let it fall at his feet.

"A coat?"

"Don't be a smartass, Hummel. Did you seriously think I wouldn't know where this came from?"

"You think it's mine? Why?"

"Because you forgot to take your brooch off!" Blaine pointed out, picking it up and showing Kurt the lapel where an elegant horse head was pinned. "I haven't seen many people wearing this kind of stuff around here but I know I've seen this on you."

Kurt fell silent, clearly caught. "Fine," he reluctantly admitted, "it's mine. I still don't know what you're so mad about."

"I don't need your pity!"

"It wasn't pity!"

"Oh, really? And what would you call it?"

"A kind gesture? Sorry for trying to do something nice. My bad!" Kurt drily retorted.

"I don't need you to do anything for me! And if you tell someone…"

"What? You'll kill me? I've heard that one before." He scoffed.

Blaine froze, losing his momentum. "What?"

"Nothing. Look, I don't know why you were there but you looked cold, okay? That's why I put that coat over you. End of story. Nothing to tell anyone." Kurt stormed away and Blaine just watched him go, coat still in his hands.

He saw Kurt again only later in the hallways. He was putting away his books in his locker when Karofsky pushed him hard into it, causing him to fall to the floor. Blaine flinched, sure that Kurt had hit his head this time.

And then it happened. Instead of quickly getting up and brushing it off as he usually did, Kurt drew his knees up to his chest and remained there on the floor. People walked past him without sparing him a glance.

In that moment the mask slipped and all Blaine could see was a broken boy.

And no one who cared.