I can't get freaking angst out of my head! I've always wanted to write a gloomy fic with much deeper meaning to it. It seems as though a few have sprung up, but I just had to get this out. Trigger warning: Self Harm. -Insert Disclaimer-
Kurt let himself lay back on the chair in the common room, where the Warbler's were currently rehearsing their final piece for regionals. The month before summer break had been extremely hot, and of course Wes would choose that day to add in some actual movement to more than just the singing. He let out a soft breath as the other's plopped down on various seats and couches, and some the floor. He couldn't help but frown at the summer uniforms that Dalton had. The shorts were the same color as the normal slacks, and they had a white button down with blue embroidery, and he was happy for that. But the things were ugly as hell.
"Hey, Kurt. Can we get your help?"
Kurt sighed softly to himself but nodded his head at the kind way that Wes had asked him. He glanced at Blaine and David, who had their sleeves rolled up and their buttons undone on their shirts. Kurt bit at his lip, trying to avoid the look of Blaine's muscled chest underneath the thin fabric as he started to walk back towards the center of the room where Wes was waiting. The two shot him understanding looks before continuing to fan themselves off.
Would it kill the school to crank up the air?
Kurt smiled, walking over to his friend and standing in front of him, his arms crossed gently over his chest.
"What exactly do you need?" he smiled happily, his tone a little breathless from the singing and dancing.
"Could you show us that move one more time?"
"Sure" Kurt smiled as he got into a normal pace. He just felt as though he had to stretch out real quick as he raised his hands over his head, arching back slightly as he raised himself on his toes. He didn't really feel his shirt riding up or his shorts sliding down a tiny bit with the stretch before it was too late.
He heard a small hitch of breath come from beside him and his eyes widened before he quickly stood straight, pulling his shirt down quickly.
Wes was staring at him with a look of shock and concern while Blaine was wide eyed, as were the other Warbler's. They all had the same look of worry and concern on their faces.
Kurt was starting to feel sick.
"Kurt?"
The countertenor shook his head. "I really have to go." He spoke suddenly, backing up as he tried to make his way toward the large doors.
"Kurt, practice isn't over."
"I'll make up for it later."
"Kurt!"
The brunette froze, his hand raised slightly towards the doorknob. The first thing that he wanted to do was run the hell out of there. He wanted to bury himself away in his room and hide. Go back home and just cry for a little while.
"Kurt…" this time it was David's voice that said his name. It was quiet and gentle.
Kurt turned slowly to stare at the thirteen Warbler's, who were staring straight back at him. He chewed on his lip as he leaned against the doors.
"You don't have to run from us." Blaine spoke quietly to him as he stood up from his spot on the desk to walk towards his friend.
"Please don't." Kurt whispered softly, as Blaine resumed towards him until he was standing face to face with the male. Blaine placed a hand at the bottom hem of Kurt's button down and the brunette shook his head. "Blaine. Please." He whispered, his voice husky with tears as Blaine lifted his shirt, his fingers grazing over the raised scars along Kurt's hips.
A few were still a brilliant red. Others were old and white. Some pink and some scabbed. The oldest about a month old.
Kurt had transferred to Dalton 3 weeks ago.
"Kurt…why would you…?"
The boy in question shoved his shirt down and looked away from the caring gazes of the Warbler's. His friends.
"I was alone." Kurt whispered softly, his eyes closing. "I was scared and alone and not one person would listen to me or pay attention to me! Everyone at McKinley just watched through all the dumpster dives and locker slams. They turned their eye to all the things Karofsky was doing to me!"
"But Kurt…"
"You weren't there then Blaine. None of the Warbler's were! You're all just so great and wonderful and you're all just so perfect! How could I just walk in here and fit the picture of any of you guys?" Kurt chewed at his lip as the others gazes softened even more.
"You don't have to be Kurt." David spoke as he took a few steps towards him.
"Yes I do! You're all amazing and I come in here scarred up and lost and just plain scared!"
Wes took a step forward before placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You are amazing Kurt." He whispered, the other's nodding their heads. "We all have scars."
Kurt choked on a sob.
"Yours are different Kurt. We can all see them. We can see what you've gone through. What you've survived."
Kurt tightened his arms around his torso as he stared down at the ground.
"I've done the same thing."
Everyone turned to stare at David when the words left his lips.
"There was always so much pressure at my old school. Be the perfect kid, get the perfect grades to make my parents proud, even when they wouldn't notice. So that was my safe haven."
Kurt stared at his friend.
"And you got over it?"
"Yes, Kurt. I haven't cut in three years."
Kurt swallows hard as he lets the tears stream down his cheeks, just trying to breath.
"We're all here for you Kurt. None of us care that you have scars. We all do, just like Wes said. We all have our scars."
Kurt looked up at him, nodding his head slowly.
"I haven't done anything since I came to Dalton." He whispered softly.
"That's good." David smiled, walking towards his friend and giving his shoulder a squeeze.
"Thank you…all of you." Kurt spoke to the rest of the Warbler's who had remained quiet.
"We're all here for you Kurt. That's what the Warbler's are. We don't just sing and sway. We're all here for each other."
"Yup, so if you ever have an urge, there are thirteen people that you can run to."
Kurt blushed softly before nodding his head. "Okay." He whispered.
Blaine smiled, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist, letting the countertenor rest his head on his shoulder.
Kurt knew that it was going to be hard to give up. But at Dalton, with the Warbler's?
He thinks that he can handle it.
Even as his hand brushes against the razorblade in his pocket.