Title: The Curse, It Is Cast
Beta: None
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I wish!
Warnings: Angst, implied dub-con
Spoilers: None
Pairing: Puck/Kurt
Summary: Puck doesn't know what's wrong with Kurt, but he still vows to help best he can
A/N1: Short and bitter.
Title from 'The Times They Are A-Changin' ' by Bob Dylan


The Curse, It Is Cast

It happens on a Thursday.

Puck is distracted as he pushes the door to the boys' bathroom open; half a million thoughts are flowing through his mind, and he presumes that it is unoccupied, devoid of life. Well, as it turns out, he's half right.

He pushes open the door, and there sitting down by the opposite wall, is Hummel. His knees are being hugged to the chest, and he isn't crying, although his eyes are red, like he wants to cry but he can't.

He looks small and fragile.

For a brief moment, Puck thinks he's broken.

Puck freezes, unsure of what to do. He doesn't even like Kurt, but here he is, alone and helpless. He can't deny someone in need, even if he can't give him anything. So he crosses the room and sits down besides him, silently, not saying anything, not reaching out.

After a few minutes, Kurt cries, but it isn't heart-wrenching, high-pitched sobs that he was expecting; no, the boy is eerily quiet as he lets these sorrowful things show, as he lets himself be weak, if only for a short while. He snuffles a little, and Puck almost goes to touch him, but he's too afraid that Kurt will fray even more so if he does.

What feels like lifetimes later, Kurt gets up, having stopped letting those tears fall, having stopped letting Puck really see him, a piece of glass to be held up to the light, and proceeds to wash his face. Before he leaves, he shoots Puck a look he can't read, and when Puck himself leaves, his heart feels heavier than it did before.

It happens again the next Tuesday.

Same place, same situation, same time- just before school ends, and Puck vaguely wonders why Kurt isn't in his class as he once again takes his place beside the boy, offering his unspoken comfort. It doesn't really matter.

His tears are more intense, more harsh and painful. When he moves, he holds himself like Kurt Hummel never does; scared and weak and deflated. He looks so tired. He looks like he hasn't been sleeping or eating, like all the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. Puck almost cries himself when he considers it later.

When it happens again, his concern gets worse, but he never says anything, never touches Kurt. The rest of the time, there are so many damn walls and masks that you can't tell just how deeply he is hurting. He never treats Puck any differently outside of these bathroom encounters, never mentions them at all. He's a true performer.

Three months of going along like this, on another Thursday, when Puck finds him this time, much like the first time his eyes are red and he isn't crying. Puck opens his mouth to speak, for once, but hesitates and just sits down. After about an hour of sitting there with Kurt not crying, he dares to reach out, to touch the other boy. Rests his hand, feather light, on his shoulder, feels how wrong and cold he is.

Kurt doesn't react, not for a few moments. His face is pale, his eyes glassy. He slowly turns to Puck, to face him, to speak.

"I'm being hurt."

Anger wells up, and he resists the urge to squeeze his shoulder; such an act would probably shatter Kurt at this stage.

"Who by?"

He has an idea, but needs the confirmation. A beat later, and Kurt gives it to him.

"Karofsky." His voice is almost faint and free of inflection.

His eyes, blue green and beautiful, are full of such pain, such desperation, such fear.

Puck inhales a sharp breath. He can't promise to make it stop.

But he can promise to try and make it better.