Welp. So I've been working on this for a while. Major triggers for self harm. Please don't read if it will trigger you. Enjoy, or don't.
Thank you to Press528491 for helping me with grammar/spelling for this. Go check out her story ''Ersatz''
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters you recognize.
Blood.
Once you start, you can't seem to stop.
You keep going back.
It's a comfort.
To know that you're in control of something; finally.
He didn't even know why he did it. He just picked up the pocketknife that was always on his desk and dragged it across his pale arm. The blade dug in and bright red sprang up from where the it had been a moment ago. He did it again. And again. And again. Kurt decided he liked the colour of his own blood.
Kurt was sitting in his bed. This had become routine now. Sleep. Go to school. Come home. Go to the basement. Lock himself in his room. Then he could enjoy the sweet relief of pushing the knife's blade into his skin and watching the blood drip down from his wrists.
He was going to Dalton.
He had thought it would be better at Dalton. Without the bullying. He was wrong. He felt alone. Isolated. Lonely. All he wanted was someone to talk to. Anyone. Just someone who would listen.
But he still had his blade. He cut every night. And usually ended up curled in a ball, crying himself to sleep.
Another day. Great. It was getting harder and harder to go through each day and pretend he was okay.
Nobody noticed anything was wrong. Not even Blaine. Blaine was his best friend. Or so he thought, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Because it seemed like Blaine didn't even want to be friends anymore. He was just so lonely and... numb. It felt like he couldn't feel anything at all.
Kurt didn't know what to do anymore, so he went and did what he always did when he didn't know what else to do. He sang.
Kurt walked down the hall to the choir room, hoping there wouldn't be anyone there.
He let out a breath of relief when he walked in and saw the room was empty.
Kurt started to sing.
I just wanna be okay, be okay, be okay
I just wanna be okay today
I just wanna be okay, be okay, be okay
I just wanna be okay today
And I just wanna feel today, feel today, feel today
I just wanna to feel something today
And I just wanna feel today, feel today, feel today
I just wanna feel something today
This song explained what he wanted at the moment so perfectly, that he almost wished someone was here so they could hear it. So someone would finally understand how he felt.
Open me up and you will see
I'm a gallery of broken hearts
I'm beyond repair, let me be
And give me back my broken parts
'Cause I just wanna know today, know today, know today
I just wanna know something today
'Cause I just wanna know today, know today, know today
Know that maybe I will be okay
That's what he wanted. He wanted to know that things would get better, and that it would all be okay.
Just give them back to me, please
Just give me back my pieces
Just give them back to me, please
And let me hold my broken parts
At that moment Kurt realized that was alll he wanted. He just wanted to feel okay. Or maybe he just wanted to feel something. He hated feeling numb. Feeling nothing. Feeling something was better than feeling nothing, right?
Know that maybe I will be okay
Know that maybe I will be okay
Blaine had stopped walking down the hallway when he heard the singing coming from the choir room. He turned around and started walking towards the sound.
He got to the choir room door and noticed Kurt was singing, with his back to Blaine. Blaine recognized the song. But when he listened to Kurt singing it, it sounded so forlorn and sad.
Kurt turned slightly and Blaine could see he was crying. He didn't know how to react to that, so before Kurt could see him, he walked out of view of the doorway and back to his room.
He had to think of something to do. Kurt looked so sad. Maybe he'd go to his room and try to find out what was wrong. Yes, that's what he'd do.
Singing had always made Kurt feel better, but this time, it just didn't do it for him. He felt a little better when he was singing the song, but as it had ended, he still felt numb and empty. Kurt stood there for a moment before turning and walking out the door of the choir room. He headed to his dorm room.
Since Kurt transferred to Dalton in the middle of the year, he had gotten a dorm room to himself. And right now he was very grateful for that.
As soon as he entered his room, he closed the door and locked it. He didn't want anybody walking in on him. Kurt shrugged out of his blazer and took his shirt off, opting for an old T-shirt over his Dalton uniform.
Kurt sat down on his bed and pulled out his pocket knife from its place in his nightstand drawer. His dad had given it to him for his tenth birthday, although he didn't really understand what for.
He opened the blade and just looked at it for a couple seconds before putting it to his wrist and pressing down. Blood sprang up almost immediately. He looked down at it. The blood looked almost beautiful, in a twisted kind of way. He brought the knife down on his wrist again, and felt the relief he had been craving. He needed more though. So he kept cutting. He slashed at his wrist again. And again. And again.
There were already a dozen fresh cuts there, but he didn't stop. No, not yet. He kept tearing up his skin, and when he ran out of room on his wrist, he just moved further up his arm and kept pressing the blade into his pale flesh. He felt like he couldn't stop cutting. Just feeling the need to keep pressing furher and further.
But what if he couldn't stop?
What if he cut too deep and killed himself?
What if?
Kurt decided he didn't really care, and nobody else would care either. They might even be happy if he died. Then they wouldn't have to tolerate him. Kurt cut a bit deeper after thinking about that.
He repeatedly pressed the blade into his skin. He was almost up to his elbow now.
Then there was a knock on the door.
Kurt froze. Maybe if he didn't say anything they would go away.
"Kurt? Are you there? I thought I saw you go in here earlier." Crap, it was Blaine. What the hell did he want anyway? He had been basically ignoring Kurt since he got here.
Kurt stayed silent.
"Kurt, please answer. I really want to talk to you about something"
"What do you want?" Kurt said. He meant for it to come out a bit sharper, but it sounded weak and tired, even to him.
"I just need to talk to you about something. Please open the door."
Crap. Now that Blaine knew he was in here he couldn't just not let him in.
"Uh, yeah, okay. Just give me a minuite." Kurt wasn't sure what to do. He had blood all over his arm.
Kurt grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and wiped off the blood as best as he could. Quite a few cuts were still bleeding, but that was okay. Kurt didn't think Blaine would be staying long anyway. He threw the towel back in the bathroom and closed the door, then put a sweater on so his arm wouldn't show. He wasn't sure what to do with the knife, so he just shoved it under the covers of his bed.
Kurt took a deep breath and composed himself before going over to the door and opening it.
He looked at Blaine.
Blaine looked very... not Blaine-like. His face was distraught and his hair looked messy; like he had been running his fingers through it. His tie was loose and he wasn't wearing his Dalton blazer.
Kurt frowned. What was wrong with Blaine?
"Blaine, what's wrong?" Blaine looked up when Kurt said that, as if just noticing that he was
standing there.
"That's the question I should be asking you, Kurt. It's just... I heard you singing in the choir room earlier today and you just sounded so sad. I didn't really know how to react to that. So I just left, but I thought I should talk to you and make sure you were okay. So, are you okay?"
"Ya, Blaine, I'm fine."
Except you're not. You're lonely and sad. A voice in his head whispered. He just told it to shut up, only he needed to know that. No one else.
"Are you sure Kurt? You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything."
"I'm sure. I think I know if I'm okay or not. Now can you just leave, Blaine?" That came out a but harsher than he had intended. Oops.
Kurt really wanted Blaine to leave so he could contiue, but Blaine was just standing there, looking at him.
"Kurt, I'm just worried about you. You don't really seem to have made any friends since you came to Dalton, and you tend to keep to yourself. Look Kurt, can I just come in?"
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea. I have a lot of homework to catch up on." Ya, good excuse, Kurt. You really couldn't think of anything better?
"Please Kurt. Just let me come in for a couple minutes."
"No."
"Kurt, just please let me in. I want to talk to you."
Kurt could see that Blaine wasn't going to leave, so he sighed opened the door a little wider so Blaine could enter.
"Fine, you can come in."
Blaine walked into the room and sat down on Kurt's bed. Kurt felt himself tense up. The knife was under his bed covers. Blaine was sitting on his bed. What if Blaine found his knife? Awe, hell, that was a stupid place to put it. Why didn't he put it somewhere else?
Kurt closed the door and walked over to where Blaine was sitting on his bed and stood in front of him.
"Well? What did you want to talk to me about?" Blaine paused and looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what happens, or what has happened, I will be there for you, Kurt. I just feel like I haven't been a good friend to you lately. And I.. I heard you singing in the choir room earlier and you just sounded so... alone and sad. I just wanted to say that you can always talk to me, Kurt." Blaine stopped talking and looked up at Kurt, waiting for a response.
Kurt really just wanted Blaine to go so he could get back to cutting. The need was itching at him, getting stronger with every second.
"Well, um, thank you, Blaine. But, I think you should leave now. I have homework to do." Blaine frowned at him.
"But Kurt I-" Blaine cut off mid sentence and stared to the side of Kurt, eyes going a little wider. No, he wasn't staring to the side of him, he was staring at him. But more specifically, at his left arm. Kurt looked down at his arm and realized that his blood had begun soaking through the sleeve.
"I think you need to go now Blaine." Kurt crossed his arms, trying to hide the blood, despite knowing Blaine had already seen it.
"Kurt, what happened to your arm?" Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine and shook his head.
"Nothing." Blaine stood up and walked over to where Kurt was and stood in front of him.
"Kurt, can I see your arm?" Blaine's words were gentle, and for a moment, Kurt actually thought about letting him see. But then he reconsidered. No one had ever cared before, so why would they care now?
"No."
"Kurt, please. It's okay. I promise I won't judge you. I just want to see." Kurt dropped his arms down by his sides, still not willing to let Blaine see what he had done to himself.
"Please, Kurt?" Blaine took both of Kurt's hands in his.
Even though everything in Kurt screamed at him not to flip his hand over, but a small part of him wanted someone to know what was happening to him. So he slowly flipped his left hand over and Blaine gently rolled up his sleeve to reveal dozens of cuts, some old and some new. He desperately hoped Blaine wouldn't leave. Or think he was some kind of freak.
But Blaine stayed silent for a long time, just staring at Kurt's exposed skin. Kurt was getting more nervous by the second, beginning to shake a little because Blaine stillhadn't said anything.
Blaine was in some sort of trance at seeing all the scars littering Kurt's arm. He felt like he couldn't say or do anything. So he just stood there and simply stared. Trying to find the right words to say. The shaking is what finally got him out of it. Kurt shaking.
Oh God, I haven't said anything for like five minutes. I'm an idiot. Okay, just relax, do what feels right, don't think about it.
Blaine looked up at Kurt's face and saw how scared he looked. And that his eyes were beginning to fill up with tears. He took a little step closer.
Do what feels right. Don't think about it.
"Kurt? I- I'm going to hug you now, okay?"
Kurt nodded mutely and Blaine pulled him into his arms. He felt the other boy start to shake again, and felt the collar of his shirt start to dampen from his tears. He just held on tighter, rubbing Kurt's back and whispeing words of comfort.
Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and just held on. He needed something to hold onto. He couldn't do this anymore. Not alone anyway. He tightened his hold on Blaine and they just stood there holding each other.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt shook his head and his breathing sped up a little as he started to shake a little more violently. Blaine nodded.
"Okay. It's okay, we don't have to right now. Come on, let's go sit down."
Kurt felt himself whisper. "Please don't let go."
God, he felt pathetic. And humiliated. Seriously, who the fuck does this? I'm just some freak who is too clingy and I should just tell Blaine to leave because I obviously have a problem that is so fucked up that I need someone with me so I can touch them and just know that they're there. Fuck, he's going to think I'm so fucked up and-
"I won't."
Blaine sat down on the bed and backed up until he was leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed. He gently tugged Kurt down by the hand he was holding and Kurt hesitantly sat down on the edge of the bed.
Blaine saw that Kurt was still silently crying. His face red and tears streaming down his face.
Don't think about it. Do what feels right.
"Hey. It's going to be okay. Come here." He pulled on Kurt's hand again and Kurt slowly crawled up to lay beside Blaine. Blaine slid down a little and laid right beside Kurt, so that the sides of their bodies were flush with each other.
They laid like that for a long time. Bodies pressed together, hands intertwined. Just listening to each other's breathing. They could hear some of the boys outside talking occasionally. And sometimes vehicles moving outside in the parking lot. But they didn't talk. Just listened. And let everything that happened sink in.
Kurt desperately wanted to move in closer to Blaine and just have something to hold onto again. But he was so, so afraid Blaine would- would what? He didnt't know, get up and leave maybe.
Blaine could feel Kurt shaking a little beside him.
Blaine sat up a little and looked over at Kurt's face. Kurt looked at him with alarm.
"Are- are you leaving?" His breathing quickened as he asked the question and his eyes started weeping tears again.
"Oh, no. I was just seeing if you needed something, you're kind of shaking again."
"Sorry." He just couldn't do anything right. He was humiliated and apparently couldn't just lie still. He felt a few hot tears escape from his eyes as they welled up.
"Hey, no. Don't be sorry. It's fine." Blaine brushed a couple of tears that had begun to roll down Kurt's face away.
"I'm just being stupid. You can leave if you want to. I'm just being weird and clingy. You probably think I'm some freak now. You can just- leave." He finished pathetically.
Blaine stared down at Kurt's face. He brushed another tears off of Kurt's cheek, this time leaving his thumb there.
"Kurt. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you, okay? Just, whatever you need right now."
Kurt looked shocked at that, but nodded his head slowly. Blaine removed his hand and lay back down.
They lay there for a few minutes before Kurt rolled over onto his side and tentatively placed his head on Blaine shoulder. After that he rested his arm on Blaine's chest and fisted his hand in his shirt anxiously. Blaine wound his arm around Kurt's waist and took hold of his hand, twining their fingers together.
"This okay?" Kurt nodded his head against his chest sleepily.
"Thank you. For staying." Kurt murmured quietly. He could already feel himself drifting off.
Blaine nodded.
He would stay with Kurt. That's all he could do.