Author's Note: I'm going to rename this story. Kurt's Decision was a lame title thrown in because I actually forgot that stories needed titles. I also have a bit of a dilemma. I tend to revisit previous chapters and make minor alterations. I should have thought about that before feeding you the first chapter of what is looking to be an epic fic. I've already written the epilogue, so at least I know how it's going to end. But what comes in between is anybody's guess. I had an outline, and then wrote three short chapters that weren't originally in it while at work. (Having a desk job really does rock, but let's not tell my bosses I'm writing slashfic while answering phones.)

So, before I post a chapter, I'm going to do my best to be certain that it's complete. And the only reason I'll change something is if there's a continuity error within my own semi-canon universe down the line. This I promise you, readers. Also, each chapter is going to have a name, instead of a boring number.

And tonight, only days later, I'm breaking that promise. I'm reformatting the entire story. I'd first intended for the second chapter to be two separate chapters, and it was bothering me for days, plus it wasn't even the correct final version, so I came back and fixed it. So my new promise is, if I'm going to massively change a chapter, I'll at least post the next chapter, to make it worth your while. I hope you think so, too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. I don't own James Blunt (or his music) and sadly, I don't own Blaine, or Kurt. (Which is probably for the best, all things equal. Hate to see how many cute boys I'd have hidden under my bed.) No money is being made off of this work. It's a work of fiction, and it's going to potentially contain triggers for all sorts of squicky stuff. So please, if you're easily triggered by mentions of rape, suicide, depression, I won't be at all offended if you go find another story to read. I'd appreciate it, however, if you do read it, please review! The more reviews, the faster I post the next chapter.


Chapter 1 - Kurt

"Blaine, we need to talk," Kurt Hummel said quietly, looking down at his hands. "Will you stop dancing around for a moment so we can?"

Blaine Anderson stopped mid-twirl. "Yes, my love?" he asked, a cheeky grin crossing his handsome face. They were in Blaine's bedroom, like so many times before, Kurt sitting primly on the edge of the bed, his boyfriend dancing in front of the mirror like he was wont to do.

"I know you invited me over today so we could, well, you know…"

"Make out in the comfort and privacy of a home with no parents home? Absolutely!" Blaine said. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Well, anyway, I need to talk to you about something serious."

Blaine frowned slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked, settling down on the opposite side of the bed.

"I want to break up," Kurt blurted out. He stood and paced. "I don't think we should date anymore."

"What? Kurt, but why?" Blaine looked stricken. "Just last night..."

"I'm done," Kurt said. "I'm going to New York in a few months, and I want to concentrate on my studies and my art until then. I don't have time for distractions."

"But, I love you," Blaine said softly.

"I know you think you do," Kurt said. "But we're young. And not exactly ready for a commitment. At any rate, I'll just show myself out." He reached for the doorknob.

Blaine sighed and bit his lower lip. "Kurt, wait." He stood up from the bed and walked over to the door on legs that barely held his weight.

"Look, Blaine, there's nothing more to be said. We're through." Kurt offered a slight smile. "You'll find someone else."

"That's it, isn't it. Who is he?" Blaine asked suddenly.

"He? Who are you talking about?" Kurt looked genuinely confused.

"The other guy. The guy who is making you leave me. Who is he?"

"There is no other guy, Blaine. I just want to be single, okay?" Kurt's voice rose a full octave. "Why is that such a crime?"

"Because you're breaking my heart," Blaine said. He reached out and touched Kurt's shoulder. "Please reconsider. I'll give you time, I'll give you space. Anything you need. If this is about sex, we don't have to do it. You're right, things were moving too fast. We'll take a step back."

"Blaine, stop. Just stop," Kurt turned the doorknob and stepped out of the bedroom. "Goodnight, Blaine. See you in glee tomorrow." He strode down the hall, made it to his car, and a full block and a half away before the tears overwhelmed him and he had to pull over. He sobbed into his arms over the steering wheel for a long, long time.

Back in his bedroom, Blaine slid down the back of the door, the tears streaming down his cheeks. He sobbed until he fell asleep there, curled into himself, on the floor of his bedroom.

Carole Hummel-Hudson sorted the laundry, knowing that she was the only one in the house trusted to launder Kurt's designer fashions. Usually super-organized, Kurt rarely left his clothing scattered about for her to find, but today she'd gone into his room and found he had wadded up a full outfit in the back of the closet. Separating the whites, she began tossing them into the washer, one piece at a time. She so rarely had to treat any stains on her step-son's clothing, she almost missed the spots on a particular pair of boxer briefs.

Frowning, she pulled the shorts back out of the washer. The red stains made her worried. Was that blood? She knew things had gotten serious between Kurt and Blaine, but she didn't think the boys were that close. Or that they'd ever do anything that would hurt Kurt in such a way. She set the shorts aside, and finished the rest of the laundry she was working on. She picked up the phone and called Kurt's cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Then she went and found Blaine's phone number.

"Hello?" the young man asked, a note of hope in his tear- and sleep-roughened voice. "Kurt?"

"No, sweetie, it's Carole. Are you ill, Blaine? You don't sound so good."

"What do you need?" Blaine asked dejectedly.

"This…Blaine, is Kurt at your house?"

"No, he left." There was a pause as Blaine checked the time. "Two hours ago. Isn't he home yet?"

"No," Carole said. "Okay, this is going to be rather awkward, but I have to ask you a very personal question."

"Look, Mrs. Hummel, I'm not exactly in the mood for questions. Kurt and I broke up."

"What?" Carole's eyes went wide. "But…you two were so in love. What happened?"

"I don't know. He came over, I thought everything was fine, and then he broke up with me. Suddenly. Then he left. Two hours ago."

Carole sighed. "Blaine, I still have to ask you a rather awkward question. I was hoping to ask Kurt, and spare you the embarrassment, but I need to know."

"What is it?" Blaine asked.

"Are…Blaine, did you and Kurt ever have sex?" Carole asked. "I found…something…and I'm worried."

"What? No!" Blaine exclaimed. "Never! I mean, we've made out, but that's it. We've been responsible. We know we're too young."

"I see," Carole asked. "Well, then, never mind."

"No," Blaine said. "What did you find? Please, I'm trying to understand why he left. Please, Mrs. Hummel."

"Sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Carole?"

"Well, Mrs-er, Carole, since Kurt and I aren't together, I just thought…" Blaine sighed. "Please tell me what you found. I need to know."

"I don't know that I should, but Blaine, I found a pair of Kurt's boxer briefs. They have…a lot of blood on them."

"What?" Blaine asked. "He…Kurt swore there wasn't anyone else. I…I don't understand."

"Sweetie, don't jump to conclusions. I'll ask Kurt when he gets home. I'm sure there's an explanation for it. Please don't jump to conclusions. I shouldn't have said anything. Blaine, I want you to know, Burt thinks you're the best thing to happen to Kurt since the glee club, and I have to agree with him. I hope you two work things out. But if not, well, I, for one, will really miss having you around for Friday night dinners."

"Thank you," Blaine said. "Um, I need to go."

"Alright, honey. I hope to talk to you soon."

"Goodbye," Blaine said. He pressed the end button on the phone, and threw it across the room. Kurt was sleeping with someone else. His beloved boyfriend was letting someone else do to him what he had never let Blaine even come close to doing. The man he thought he would spend the rest of his life with, was bottoming to some faceless stranger.

Kurt arrived home and went straight up to his room.

"Kurt, honey!" Carole called. "Sweetie, come back down here, please."

Kurt wanted to hide, but he knew his stepmother would come looking for him if he didn't answer her. He felt sick, he hurt all over, and all he wanted was to sink into another hot bath and wallow for the next few hours. Reluctantly he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Yes, Carole?" he asked.

"Honey, we need to talk."

"What's on your mind?" Kurt asked with false cheerfulness.

"I just spoke to Blaine."

"What? Did he call here? I told him I'd see him tomorrow. And he knows my cell number. There was no reason for him to call here!"

"No, Kurt, honey, I called his house looking for you."

"Why didn't YOU call my cell phone?" he asked.

"I did. It went straight to voicemail. He told me you two had broken up."

"Yes. I made the adult decision to work on my singing and dancing for the next few months before going to New York. What's the crime in that?"

"The crime is I was doing your laundry and found the outfit you wore last night, in the back of your closet. Kurt, is there something you want to tell me?"

Kurt's already pale face lost all its color. "Carole, it's nothing," he said. "I just…I got lazy and tossed it in there. I'll…I'll take care of my laundry. Don't worry about it."

"It's too late, sweetie. I saw the blood. That's why I was calling you. What happened? Blaine said you two hadn't….that you hadn't had sex, but then why?"

"You asked Blaine?" Kurt's voice rose to its highest. "Did you tell him about the blood? Carole, that was none of his business, or yours! You have completely invaded my privacy!" He spun on his heel and stomped out of the room and back up the stairs.

Minutes later, the bathroom door was locked, and Kurt was ready to slip deep into a lilac scented bubble bath. He cranked up his stereo, turned off the lights, and cried. He hurt, inside and out, and needed to be alone.

Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul,
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

Kurt sank beneath the bubbles for a moment. He broke the surface for a breath, and hoisted himself out of the tub. It was a blessing that his skin routines were ingrained into him, else he might not have bothered.

Forgoing supper, Kurt laid a towel on the sheets and slid beneath the covers. He was protecting the sheets from the blood, same as he had the previous night. He hoped it would end soon. Unlike the torture in his heart, the physical pain had a definite limited duration.

The next afternoon, Blaine sat in the corner of the choir room, while Kurt said on the other side, the two completely ignoring one another. Neither added to the conversation, neither stepped forward with song ideas, and everyone noticed when Kurt bowed out of dance practice, saying he didn't feel well.

That night, Monday, Kurt mentally finalized his plans and did several hours of internet research.

Tuesday night, Kurt lined up two bottles of pills, a brand new straight razor, his favorite bubble bath, a picture of him and Blaine, and the dried pink carnation he'd worn in his lapel to prom. He put them all into a shoebox and slid it under his bed.

Wednesday night, he checked the website again, making sure he had the amounts, the locations, everything precisely as it needed to be. He printed out the pages and added them to the box.

Thursday night, he wrote the letters. A separate letter for each member of the glee club, one for his dad, one for Carole, one for Mr. Schuester. Only one more week he had to endure. Regionals were a week from Saturday. That night, all the pain would end.

The entire week, he claimed to have a cold, or maybe the beginning of the flu, anything to keep his glee club teammates off his back. He would have to suck it up during the practices before competition, but for now, he couldn't bring himself to fake it. He avoided the assignment in glee that week through his supposed illness. The assignment had simply been to sing a song that told the story of how you were feeling, at that moment in time.

Blaine sang, in rehearsal after school on Friday, "Behind These Hazel Eyes". He'd always had a way of turning a traditionally female song into one for his voice and range. Kurt shouldered his bag and left the room midway through the song. Blaine, ever the showman, finished his performance.

After a week of watching one of her best friends mope around in a serious funk, Rachel Berry had had enough. When Kurt fled the room, she followed immediately. Glee was letting out soon, and she needed to try to talk to him before one of the others came along.

"Kurt!" she called, running to catch up with the longer-legged teen. "Kurt can we talk?"

"Rachel, I don't have time," he said. "I…I need…" He strode down the hall and into the women's washroom. Rachel followed without a second thought.

"What happened between you and Blaine?" Rachel asked persistently. "You two are perfect together. You've been avoiding me all week, and I've had enough."

"What does it matter to you?" Kurt asked. "You have your Finn, your NYADA, your resume. You don't care about Blaine and I."

Rachel took a deep breath. "Kurt, there is a distinct possibility that, one day in the future, you'll be my brother-in-law. Well, step-brother-in-law, but the details don't matter. You matter. To me. I love you. Like a brother, or a sister. You're my best gay. And I don't like to see you hurt. And Blaine, well, Blaine is the first man who ever went gay after dating me. So I care what happens to you two. Seriously."

"I knew you had amazing lungs, but that was a bit much for one breath," Kurt said. "And I see that yes, you do care. But please, it's not really any of your business. We broke up. End of story." He offered her a slight smile, then pulled her to him for a hug. "I love you too. Even though you're persistent, annoying, and far too much a diva, I still love you."

"Alright, well, if you need anything, please, don't hesitate to ask. I'm here for you. So is Finn. And everyone else. Everyone feels kinda helpless, since you've been ignoring us all this week."

Kurt nodded. "I'm surprised Mercedes isn't in here," he said. "But…Rachel, could you leave me alone now? I want to be by myself."

Rachel sighed and hugged him again. "Alright," she said. "But you're miserable without him. I can tell." She turned and left the washroom, and literally ran into Blaine. "Blaine!" she squeaked.

"Is he in there?" Blaine asked quietly. He handed Rachel her bag, which he'd picked up for her when she'd chased Kurt out of the room.

"Yes," Rachel said absolutely. "He's in there, and he still doesn't want to talk to any of us. What happened, Blaine?"

"He came over on Sunday, and told me he didn't want to be with me anymore. I honestly don't know what happened. I just…I want him back, Rachel. I don't care what he did. I don't care if he slept with the entire football team. I love him. I want him back."

"Wait. Kurt SLEPT with someone else?" Rachel asked incredulously, her voice rising a full octave.

"I don't know for sure, and please, don't go telling anyone. It's none of anyone's business. I love him, Rachel. And I don't want to be without him. I can't be without him." The last came out in a whisper. "Make sure no one comes in," he instructed Rachel, before pushing the door to the women's restroom open and striding in. "Talk to me," he demanded.

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed, turning away from the mirror where he had been dabbing at his cheeks, wiping away another round of tears. "What are you doing in here?"

"I should ask you the same thing. Now, are you going to tell me what's really going on?" Blaine's voice was pleading, begging. It was so unlike the younger boy to be so open, so sadly emotional. Usually he ran to anger, happiness, exuberance. So rarely sadness. It pained Kurt to know that he alone was responsible for the look on Blaine's face.

"I cheated on you," Kurt said flatly. "Saturday night, when I left your place, I stopped for gas on the way home, and hooked up with a random guy at the truck stop."

"You're lying," Blaine said quietly. "You'd never do that."

"How do you know?" Kurt asked. "We did it in the bedroom of his semi-truck. It was…fantastic," his voice trembled on the last word.

"Then why were you bleeding afterwards?" Blaine's question cut Kurt to the bone, but the taller boy shrugged it off.

"Probably because of his huge…" Kurt sighed, unable to continue. "Just go. I don't want to talk about this."

"Don't lie to me, Kurt. Whatever happened, we meant something to each other once. Please, baby, don't lie to me."

"Don't call me that!" Kurt screeched. "I don't deserve it! I don't deserve your love! I don't deserve you, Blaine. Just, please, leave!"

"What really happened?" Blaine asked, advancing on Kurt and crowding him into a corner of the bathroom. "What really happened when you left my house on Saturday night, as horny and frustrated as I was."

Kurt closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. "He raped me,"


TO BE CONTINUED…

If, that is, I receive any feedback that says it's wanted.