Author's Note: I know there are plenty of suicide and Trevor Project fics going around, but this really struck a chord in me. The Trevor Project helped me get through my struggle alone, and I just had to write this little drabble. I took my personal experiences and forced them into this. I hope everyone out there knows that they're not alone. There's always one person waiting with open arms. (Disclaimer: I don't own Glee)

Kurt types in the innocent letters into his search engine. He adds the dot com and is soon brought to the colorful spread of the website. His eyes focus on the screen in the darkness. He searches for what he needs, looking past the emergency number until he finds the two words, followed by a little heart. And that right there is enough to ease the tension in his chest.

He clicks on the submit link and types in everything that the form is asking him to. Soon he is faced with nothing but a blank white box, surrounded by thin black lines, waiting for him to type in what he's feeling. Kurt places his fingers on the keyboard, glances at the dried blood, and nods his head.

Dear Trevor,

My name is Kurt. I'm seventeen years old and reside in Lima, Ohio. I feel for you, and I know what it's like to go through each and every day being tormented for who I am. I am the only openly gay kid in my school, and there are just so many obstacles for me to try and overcome. There are things such as slushie facials, dumpster dives, locker slams. You name it, they have it.

It's not as if I'm trying to force my sexual orientation on anyone and everyone, I'm just proud of whom I am. But sometimes that's not enough to get through the day hearing the slurred 'Fag' and 'Homo' gets to me after a while. I'm just so alone.

I cut. It seems like it's the only way to get through the pain and add relief. It's wrong, I know that. But it still doesn't stop me. I guess that's why I need your help. I need to stop, and I'm so scared. It's like an addiction that's been getting worse and worse. And I don't know how much longer I can hold on…

Noah opens the newest message to the Dear Trevor link. Ever since he got out of juvie he's had to do community service. And after sort of learning about Hummel and becoming maybe sort of friend like, he opted to help out at The Trevor Project, answering emails.

He opens the newest one sent at 3:30am, a few moments ago. His throat constricts almost immediately as he reads, the name catches him, but the location is what forced him to speed through the email and soon his tanned fingers are flying across the keyboard.

Dear Kurt,

Soon Noah has his car keys and he's speeding over to Hummel's house, shimmying through the window and scaring the shit out of poor Kurt, who's staring at his computer screen like it's going to bite him. The brunette turns his head towards Noah, his wet blue eyes staring at him.

You're not alone, you have the strength to get through this. And I'll help you. Because it gets better.

"It was you…" he whisper's quietly.

Noah nods his head, taking Kurt's pale arm in his and stares down at the cuts before doing something he would deny if anyone ever asked.

He kisses each and every one of the scars on Kurt's arm.

"You're not alone Hummel." He whispers.

And Kurt thinks that maybe Noah's right.

Maybe it does get better.