Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the song 'Unwell' by Matchbox 20.

Warning: Cursing, offensive language, self harm, and Boy/Boy relationship. Don't like any of it? Don't read.

All day, staring at the ceiling,

Making friends with shadows on my wall.

Sunday, Blaine failed to leave his room. His parents were hosting a company dinner party and he had been threatened to be beat within a millimeter of his life if he was even seen on the staircase. He felt completely hollow, like he did every other time his parents wanted to act like he didn't exist. Before he came out, he had been extremely close to both of his parents. Playing guitar while his mother sang during the holidays when the family got together or going outside, throwing the football with his dad when he had some spare time to spend with his only son.

Afterwards though… Blaine shuddered as he thought about the day he came out, naively expecting his parents to still accept him…

His mother gasped as soon as the words passed his lips, her eyes comically wide. Mr. Anderson's eyes narrowed, glowering openly at his son with disgust. "There is no way," he began; his voice low. "That I'm going to let you run your mouth and ruin our corporation's reputation with this silly phase."

"It's not a phase," Blaine defended himself, completely lost with his parents' attitude with his confession. "I just don't like girls. I like guys. I don't underst-,"

The slap rang out through the room. Blaine tasted blood in his mouth before his mind registered the pain. His father's words stung at his heart as tears formed in his eyes. "There's no way my son is a faggot."

All night,

Hearin' voices tellin' me that I should get some sleep,

'cause tomorrow might be good for somethin'.

It was well past midnight and Blaine still hadn't fallen asleep. Each beat of his heart sent new jolts of pain through his body as he thought about his parents. He still loved both of them dearly; how could he not? Up until he had come out, they had absolutely adored him. He still held on to the vague hope that they would love him again as they once had, that they would get over their homophobia, even three years later when there seemed to be no hope.

Hold on…

However, that didn't mean that the taunting and bullying he dealt with the one year he went to public school after announcing his sexuality and the harsh words of his parents afterwards didn't emotionally scar him. He stood up, walking through the doorway into his bathroom. He lifted the soap dish from the counter, only to be greeted with the familiar glint of silver.

…feelin' like I'm headed for a break down…

Blaine hated when people just cut up their skin. He cringed when he saw cutters whose arms were nothing but webs of crimson lines. The artistic part of his mind wouldn't let him get away with it. His scars, as twisted as it would seem to someone else, had to be beautiful.

....and I don't know why.

He brought the razor to the outline of a fading cut, digging the blade in deep enough to bring up fresh blood. He carved the heart into his wrist again, appreciating the scarlet liquid that flowed from it. When he finished the design, he cut little notches all around the edge of it, giving the appearance that the heart was stitched into his skin. He brought the blade further down his arms, stopping a few inches from the crook of his elbow. He drew a star into his skin, filling it in with small, closer place nicks, making it seem solid. Three curved lines trailed behind it, giving the illusion of a shooting star going toward his wrist. Tears started to flow as freely as his blood as he retraced all of the burgundy patterns on his skin: his initials in script, a treble cleft, an eighth note, and the word 'love'.

But I'm not crazy; I'm just a little unwell…

He returned to the dorm he shared with Kurt the next morning, already dressed in his blazer and tie, thankful that the uniform had long sleeves. Kurt was standing in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie. He looked up as his boyfriend walked in, smiling at his sudden appearance. "Hey," Kurt called, walking over to give him a quick kiss. "How was your weekend? I tried to call, but all of my calls went right to voice mail."

"I left my charger here on accident," Blaine lied, setting his bag on the foot of his bed. "Sorry."

…I know, right now you can't tell.

But stay a while and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me.

"I missed you," Kurt murmured, pulling the older teen into a hug.

"I missed you too." Blaine responded, torn somewhere between relieved and hurt that Kurt didn't realize something was off about him. He worked so hard to keep up his strong façade so that Kurt would have someone to lean on when things got overwhelming. But, it was almost as if Kurt hadn't learned enough about him to know out when he was putting on a mask.

He shook his head. He was reading way too much into this; he knew he excelled at masking his emotions. It would take Kurt a lot more time to figure out how to pry that mask off.

"What's wrong?" Kurt frowned. "You look upset."

Blaine plastered one of his infamous smiles on, turning up the charm. "Nothing, just got a little lost in thought, that's all. How was your weekend?"

"Went to the mall with 'Cedes and ran into Karofsky. He tried to pull me away from her, but she threatened, fairly loudly I must add, to castrate him with a rusty metal spoon if she ever saw him near me again."

Blaine smirked; glad Kurt had friends to look after him when he wasn't able to. "That's great."

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired.

I know:

Right now you don't care.

"Warbler Blaine, Warbler Kurt," Wes greeted both of them at breakfast that morning at their usual table. David rolled his eyes at his friend's formal behavior.

"Blaine, we have an amazing solo idea for you," the council member started, but Blaine shrugged him off, standing up almost immediately again.

"I don't think I'm up for a solo right now. Give it to someone else." He started walking away, feeling all three pairs of eyes drilling into his back as he left the school's café.

But soon enough you're gonna think of me

And how I used to be…me.

Blaine sat in his desk in the middle of the classroom during study hall, trying to think of the best way to keep Kurt from finding out about the cuts on his arm. They never had problems changing in front of each other before and his lover wasn't stupid: He would notice Blaine slipping into their bathroom to change. His scars were never a problem before: they were so faint before that you couldn't notice them unless you staring right at them. Plus, he always wore long-sleeves, so it never gave Kurt a chance to see them.

Blaine heard someone cough. He looked up to see Thad giving him an amused grin while everyone else whispered to each other, throwing glances his way. Flushing with embarrassment, the lead Warbler realized he had been muttering out loud to himself the entire time. He bent his head over his notebook, refusing to make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the period.

I'm talkin' to myself in public

And dodgin' glances on the train.

And I know… I know they've all been talkin' 'bout me.

I can hear them whisper

And it makes me think there must be somethin' wrong…

…With me.

Blaine skipped lunch and headed back to the dorm, making a beeline for his bed, discarding his blazer, tie, and shoes on the way there. He refused to go back for the rest of his classes. He couldn't handle being around people today without the extreme paranoid feeling every one was judging him based on his sexuality. Sure, it seemed ridiculous, but after the fresh reminder of how suddenly his parents had turned on him, it didn't seem so silly to him. With a sigh, he stood, figuring he'd use this time to take a long, hot shower.

Out of all the hours thinkin',

Somehow,

I've lost my mind.

But I'm not crazy,

I'm just a little unwell.

I know:

Right now you can't tell.

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me.

I'm not crazy,

I'm just a little impaired.

I know:

Right now you don't care.

But soon enough you're gonna think of me

And how I used to be.

That night, as per usual, Blaine waited an hour after Kurt went to bed to get ready. Then, almost silently, he stripped to his boxers, his preferred form of pajamas. He always woke up before Kurt, enabling him to get dressed before his boyfriend even woke. After he brushed his teeth, he crept back into his bed, falling asleep almost too easily.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, he heard Kurt's voice nervously calling his name. His eyes opened, revealing his porcelain skinned boyfriend worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "What?" Blaine asked.

I've been talkin' in my sleep…

"You were screaming," Kurt whispered shakily, taking Blaine's left hand into his right. "It woke me up. You didn't stop though. You sounded so… scared."

"What was I saying?"

"'Please don't hurt me' over and over again." Kurt let go of Blaine hand to turn on the overhead light. Blaine flinched at the light, bringing his right arm up to cover his eyes. He heard Kurt take in a sharp breath of disbelief.

"What?" Blaine asked again, refusing to move.

Pretty soon they'll come to get me.

Kurt returned to his side, his hand running down his left arm, over his… fuck.

Yeah, they're takin' me away…

Blaine sat up, all traces of previous tiredness gone. Kurt's hand didn't move. Blaine gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the onslaught of threats to drag him to a counselor or, even worse, the harsh words of disgust that would fall from his boyfriend's lips.

"Blaine," the countertenor said softly. "Look at me. Please."

Unable to refuse, he turned his head, startled to see the tears glistening as they fell down Kurt's perfect face. He felt his breath hitch as Kurt's finger traced absentmindedly over the heart on his wrist, tears falling onto his arm. "Kurt, I…" he trailed off, his throat tightening up as he attempted to speak, his own eyes filling up with boiling tears. He bowed his head in shame, wishing that he could just vanish.

"Blaine, babe," Kurt voice sounded slightly choked as he tried not to break down. Carefully, he made the older teen lay back. Blaine didn't fight it, as he was still battling with his tears. Before Kurt could move away though, he pulled his boyfriend down to lay next to him, resting his head against his chest.

But I'm not crazy,

I'm just a little unwell.

"Promise me we'll talk about it tomorrow," Kurt whispered as wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him closer.

"I promise," Blaine agreed, his hands fisted into the front of Kurt's pajamas.

With a sigh, Kurt stroked at the other's hair. "You can cry," Kurt assured him. "I won't think any less of you."

I know:

Right now you can't tell.

But stay a while and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me.

Blaine let go completely, sobbing, clinging tightly to Kurt. The younger teen muttered 'I love you' and 'I'm right here' over and over again, holding the boy in his arms tighter.

I'm not crazy,

I'm just a little impaired.

I know:

Right now you don't care.

But soon enough you're gonna think of me…

Morning found the two boys wrapped around each other, both of their faces covered in tear tracks. Blaine had woken up two other times during the night, screaming 'don't hurt me' again through his tears. Kurt had shushed him with kisses both times, swearing that he wasn't going to hurt him.

Blaine had always been the strong one. But Kurt realized that night that he would have to be strong for Blaine, lest the other boy fall completely apart.

…and how I used to be.

A/N: I realize that Blaine's cutting seems a tad unrealistic, but, to me, it fit the flow of this story too well to get rid of it. Thanks for reading. Reviews mean the world to me if you enjoyed the story or have something constructive to say. ~C.Y.R