A/N: Hello, my fellow Klainers! How nice to meet you all! I'm one of those lurkers that hover in the shadows and only pop out for a visit when it best suits me. I.e., to review Glee fanfictions. :D
Warnings/notes for the story on a whole: This chapter will be extremely awkward. I'm not used to writing outside of my roleplay, and the entire structure of this piece is... really wonky. I sincerely apologize for that. There is, also, a point to the fact that I had a psychology trip at the beginning. It's a theme in the story. On that note, this story will contain dark themes and adult themes. The rating will eventually fit to M.
There is a possibility that any spoilers up to the latest aired episode will be in my fanfiction. I don't read ahead in to spoilers, so please for the love of god, do not use any in your reviews. I will actually cry! I will gladly respond to any of your reviews, if you feel the need to grace me with them! Happy reading!
I don't own Glee. This accounts for all of my chapters.
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It was a fairly common system. Kids who got bullied or abused at home often ended up being bullies themselves. Kids with strongly religious parents and a strict upbringing came out of it believing in their family's preferred religion. At a young age, children are frighteningly easy to influence, learning their morals from mom and dad, using the media to shape their personalities. There wasn't an escape. When a child experiences early trauma, it will hover over their heads until their last breath. Turning to drugs, or alcohol, or sex, as methods of escapism. Taking it out on others in abusive manners. Developing personality disorders.
Sometimes, those disorders are so subtle, it's hard to see that they even exist. Now, on the surface, Kurt Hummel is one of the most confident young men there is. Out and proud, wearing whatever took his fancy, be it rainbow colored if it must be. He had his bitchface perfected, and alongside his favourite leg-position when sitting, it wasn't hard to conclude that he was one hundred perfect gay. That was even before considering the fact that he was far too pretty for a girl want to touch him or be on his arm. They would feel inadequate next to such a beauty, and Rachel herself had mentioned that once, during one of their cheer-up-Kurt-heart-to-hearts.
But on the inside, Kurt wasn't as strong as he seemed. His thoughts weren't always pure. Dear god, he wouldn't ever hurt another person, hell to the no. That was simply unacceptable. But he had developed quite the hero-complex, one that involved a lot of self-sacrifice. Small, insignificant occurrences, such as throwing his high F for his father and taking a slushie to the face (and ruining one of his favourite coats to date) weren't all that significant. He had grown up since then, and Kurt had matured a lot in the last year.
The problem with that? Now that he was older, sacrifices were growing bigger. He didn't leave McKinley because he wanted to. He left because Karofsky was there. He left so that Karofsky could be there. He kept his mouth shut so that Karofsky wasn't 'shamed' and 'exposed,' for being what he was. A death threat was terrifying, but if he exposed Karofsky and got attacked for it, at least the guy would have been shipped off to some insanity ward far, far away.
Dalton was a nice place. The boys were kind, he wasn't bullied for who he was. Classes were harder, but he'd come out of it with better grades. And then there was Blaine. That was self-explanatory. Looking back at his crush on Finn, Kurt wanted to drop his head on his desk and groan in disgust. He hadn't ever felt anything for Finn. He hadn't even had a crush on Finn. He thought he did, but he hadn't. The concept of having a male friend who treated him kindly had been so ridiculous that he had fabricated the entire thing, (which could possibly be why he could understand Blaine's Jeremiah fiasco, and allow the older boy to buy him coffee as an apology for being such a lovesick puppy,) but what he felt for Blaine… it was so special, so deep, that he could hardly comprehend it himself.
And that was why he chose not to.
Once upon a time, he'd told Blaine how he felt, sort of. He thought he'd ask him out. He'd gotten all giddy over it, telling the Warblers that Blaine should be allowed to sing in public to woo a guy, thinking the entire time that it was him. And if Blaine hadn't made those connections after Kurt's confession, he would personally select Blaine's best shirts (yes, those ones that Kurt had advised him to try on in the store,) and set them on fire.
But here they were, weeks later. Blaine had gone out with Rachel, and discovered that, sweet Gaga, he was actually one hundred percent gay! Kurt? He was biting his thumb in the shadows, because he wasn't sure anyone should be as insensitive as Blaine had been with him during the entire thing. Comparing him to Karofsky, no less! When Rachel had left The Lima Bean to begin composing another song, Kurt had stood in the line for Blaine until his friend had wandered back out of the restroom. But by that time, Kurt had purchased his coffee, left it at their usual table for him, and was gone.
It had been three days. Kurt had been purposely avoiding Blaine for three days, responding to his texts with a brief 'k,' or 'can't, busy, sorry'. He didn't know why. He didn't want to be apologized to. He didn't want to meet up with Blaine and be expected to apologize to him. Because no matter how hard he tried to tell himself otherwise, it hurt. The fact that Blaine had taken his words and slaughtered them right in front of him… If he thought about it too hard, his eyes would water and he'd ruin his morning routine before he'd even finished it.
That night, Kurt was venturing in to an experience he hadn't so much as thought about before.
It had been four days when Blaine got a phone call at four am on a Saturday morning. The Warbler had patted around on his nightstand for several moments before he could grab his vibrating cell in his secure grasp. Giving the caller ID a glance, he brought the iPhone up to his cheek and murmured, "Kurt? It's four in the morning."
"B-Blaine-"
Blaine sat up in his bed, eyes widening at the sound of a raspy and frightened Kurt. Already, he was pushing the covers off of him and slipping his slippers on, ready to rush over to Kurt's dorm room.
"Kurt? What's wrong? Are you okay?" He could see Wes turning over and reaching for the lamp, woken up by Blaine's rising tone. At that moment, he didn't care. "I'm coming over."
The voice on the other end of the call didn't respond, because Kurt was shaking his head, and it took a little while for the boy to realize that Blaine couldn't see that. "N-no, I'm not… Blaine, I need you to pick me up…"
Blaine stopped dead in his tracks. Kurt wasn't in his room and Kurt wasn't at home. Kurt needed him to pick him up from somewhere at four am in the fucking morning. What the hell had happened? He turned back to his room, something foreign present in his hazel eyes. Hurriedly, he was picking necessary things up, finding a pair of pants, his car keys.
"Tell me where you are. I'm on my way."
