Fandom: Glee.
Type of Fic: Oneshot.
Ship: Klaine.
Summary: The shadows are long and he fears if he cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down.
Step by step, he padded down the street. Damn, he shouldn't of stayed behind at school. He should of just gone straight home. He should of showed them that he wasn't afraid. But he was. Of course he wouldn't allow them to see that. 5pm. He stayed behind until 5pm. Until he knew for certain that they wouldn't be hanging around. Waiting for him. To kick his ass. 6th of December. The date was the 6th of December. Dead of winter. It was the dead of winter. Darkness. He was walking home, alone, on the 6th of December, at 5pm, in darkness.
The darkness was not like any shadow any man had ever encountered before. This darkness could still the warmest beating heart, could fill the kindest soul with terror, could tear the last breath from any living body. He had a feeling that it would, too.
His foot pace got faster. Step. Step. Step. Water begins streaming down his face. He's not sure if thats blood, sweat, tears or just plain rain. At this moment in time he doesn't care. After standing tall for so long, he was tired. He was tired of everything. But he just wanted to get home.
He stopped. Dead. Dead in his tracks. The darkness began to move around him, wrapping its dark, looming arms around his scrawny shoulders. It got darker and darker, gaining confidence now, as only daylight could stop it, and this place was dark, oh so dark. No light to be found; no salvation for lost souls.
The weight lifted from beneath his feet and he lost balance in his legs, hitting the ground with a loud thud. He was wrong. They weren't home. He should of stayed longer. They were out to get him. Again.
For certain, it was tears now. Long, cold tears. Tears that made heartfelt people weak at the knees, and heartless people laugh. Those kind of tears. Kicks and punches. Blood. All he could hear was the sneer jeers from the boys around him. The boys that overpowered him, overshadowed him, and scared the hell out of him.
"Blaine's a baby. He can't take it. He's crying! Look!"
This only made the tears fall harder. Blood, sweat and tears dripped down his face, from his eyes, right down to his chin. He was shaking now, and the lump in his throat got larger and larger as the seconds wore on.
Dead.
That's how he felt. He'd been laying there for over an hour, alone. Head throbbing. Sick rising, and aching to spew out of his mouth. Blood dripping from his nose. His eye dressed in a bulging bruise. Both eyes, actually. It was hopeless. He may aswell just die.
Footsteps. He shot up, despite his pain, and edged backwards as he saw a looming figure above him. Too dark to make out the characteristics, he assumed it was another one of them.
"Don't.. P-please... Take my phone.. take my wallet.. there's nothing in it but please don't hurt me.."
The vunerability in his voice was so strong, he could feel it. The opposing figure gave a hearty laugh and to his surprise, held out their hand for him to take.
"I'm not going to hurt you.. I promise."
It was clear the figure was a man, by this point. He gulped, the lump in his throat finally going away and leaving him with the slightest bit of relief. After reaching out and taking the boys hand, he stopped shaking.
"A-are.. are you an angel?"
He spoke quietly, whimperish, as the boy helped him get to his feet. The aches and pains in his body were almost unbearable, and he felt himself going to fall again. But this time, someone was there to catch him.
The boy gave another laugh. The laughter echoing the dark landscape and even brightening it up slightly. He felt his hand quiver in the boys grip, but he felt safe. Safer than he ever had before.
"No, i'm Kurt Hummel. But you could call me an angel, if you like..."
The warm glow of the boys voice brightened his hopes. He stood up straighter, despite his pain, and moved his shoulders back broadly.
"..because i'm here to save you."
Additional notes: Hi, its Charlie. Hope you guys liked. It was short but sweet, like me! :)