Karofsky doesn't just kiss Kurt in the Locker room. And now, the glee club has to figure out why Kurt's ignoring them, and Blaine has to deal with his guilt for being the one who told Kurt to stand up for himself in the first place. Klaine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Ugly Courage

All Kurt really remembered was the feel of the dirty locker room floor against his face, the rough hand pushing down on his mouth so hard his teeth hurt, and-

Pain. Heavy Breathing. Take it, he said. Take it like a girl would, fag.

He expected broken ribs, black eyes, maybe some internal bleeding, even, but this-

The click of Karofsky locking the door. The insanity in his eyes. Rage. Pain.

This was not what he expected.

Take it, you little faggot. I bet this feels good, don't it?

At first, he thought it was out of spite. Mostly, he still did think that-

You look so tight in those little glee club outfits. Don't think I'm the only one that noticed, soprano.

But a little part of it must've been actual lust. Which means it could happen again. And- and Karofsky said he wasn't the only one who noticed, so that meant-

faggot

Kurt had sat in that locker room for hours after Karofsky left, with the door locked.

After hours, he unwrapped his arms from around his knees and stood.

Kurt let out a sharp cry as he moved. The pain was the only thing that made him sure this had actually just happened, and it wasn't just a really fucked up nightmare.

Carefully, he took off his clothes, and left them folded on the bench, before stepping into a hot shower, letting the water run all the sweat and other...fluids off his body. He stared at the drain, where a blood red substance swirled down the drain. He had been bleeding.

Stepping out of the shower only because the water was freezing, Kurt dried off and got dressed slowly. All the showers in the world couldn't make him feel clean again.

He tried to fix himself up in the mirror, but his hair stayed messy and his clothes just weren't about to uncrumple themselves.

Calmly, he put his bag on his shoulder and unlocked the door, leaving the locker room, walking down the hall to glee club stiffly and in pain.

When he entered the room, Mr. Schue put his disappointed face on.

Finn, and most of the other club members, turned to greet him, "I thought you left early or something, man, you weren't at lunch."

"Kurt, you're late," He said, a little bit reprimanding but mostly upbeat, like usual.

Surprisingly enough, Brittany was the first to notice his unkempt appearance, "Kurt? You look kind of, like, not put together. You okay?"

The others raised questioning eyebrows when they finally took in his ruffled hair and dirty clothes.

Kurt opened his mouth, but found it extremely dry, and only let out an odd sounding squeak. And then it was like he was back in the locker room, with Karofsky telling him, saying that-

Those little glee club outfits.

"I'm sorry Mr. Schuester," His voice didn't sound melodic. It sounded cracked. Broken. Ugly. "I'm afraid that I no longer wish to participate in New Directions glee club."

"What?" Rachel stood fast, along with the others "You know we need you, Kurt-"

I need you so bad right now

"You're one of our best sopranos-"

Don't think I'm the only one that noticed, soprano

"She's right, Kurt," Finn said, "And we still need twelve people, without you we're short. Again. And the whole people-quitting-every-two-minutes thing- I don't know if our group can take it anymore- "

take it, faggot. Take it like a girl. That's how you want it, right, princess?

"SHUT UP!" Kurt shrieked, covering his ears with his hands and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He felt his eyes burning with tears, "EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

There was silence in which the entire club stared, eyes wide like Ms. Pillsbury, at him. Mr. Schue hesitated, "Kurt...?"

"I just- can't be in glee club anymore," He said, and his voice cracked grossly somewhere in the middle of that.

"What happened?" It was Sam talking, in all his lemonheaded glory, that made him burst into tears. "Why- why is your face all bruised? Kurt, who did that to you?"

Not dainty tears, like he usually cried, but gross, snotty, blotchy-skinned sobs. He dropped his bag and collapsed on the floor.

Will Schuester started forward, alarmed, "Kurt!"

He put his hand on the boys arm gently, and Kurt let out a scream and scrambled backwards before grabbing his bag and hastily standing.

"I- I have to go," He rushed for the exit, pausing briefly to murmur, "Goodbye," before leaving, tearing down the halls.

He had had the courage to stand up for himself.

Just not the strength to back it up.