AN: I hereby present my first Fanficiton, ever. Kurt gets beaten up by Karofsky, but it's alright, Blaine is there to make it all better. Huzzah.
Useless retaliation combats each painful punch, and at this point I know there's little reason for me to fight back. He's won. He always wins. With another blow to my stomach, I involuntarily curl in on myself. I'm not sure how long this act has been going on, but before I let myself fall victim to the dark, I remember a single word, mouthed by a beautiful voice. Courage.
"Kurt, wake up! Dammit, Kurt. Stop fooling around."
Stop shaking me. Stop it. That hurts.
"Open your eyes. Now."
Why won't you listen? I don't want to open my eyes… don't make me.
And yet, the relentless mutilation of my form continues, but it's gentler than before. These hands aren't trying to hurt me; in fact, they seem to be taking the extra precaution not too. After an aggressive battle of mind over matter, I convince my throbbing eyelids to reveal the world. I hear a more than relieved sigh from above me, followed closely by the tangling of fingers in my blood-matted hair. "Morning, buddy." A nervous chuckle climbs up his throat and I can't help but smile from the music it makes.
I yearn to respond to his voice, lust to tell him it's going to be OK, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out but a strangled gulp. My breathing hitches, my chest rising and falling spastically with each rasped inhale. My body craves oxygen, and yet I can't seem to get enough of the sweet element. "Mr. Shuester is coming, bud, just hang in there." I know he's trying to be soothing, but there's no hiding the fear that laces his false vibrato. He places a butterfly light peck to my right temple, assuring me he's here, and not leaving. "He got a few good kicks on your stomach. Just…hang on."
I can't breath. Blaine, help. Please. Black dots dance in front of my eyes, a dizzying sensation, far to similar to closing your eyes on a Roller Coaster. "Kurt? Stay with me. Don't close your eyes…" What? I can't hear you. No… Blaine, come back. Blaine, don't go… "… Kurt, remember when we met? You're horrible at spying, you know that? Come on, Kurt. Tell me about when we met." I'm sorry, Blaine. And with that, I graciously welcome the dark.
