I do not own Glee.

This is rated M for mature situations and instances involving characters. Includes some violence, rough language, and (non-gory) blood and anatomical/medical cases. Issues with self-expression which result in harsh behavior, decreased self-respect, occasional desires to commit self-harm, and etc. among a character.

These may be triggers for indecisive and curious individuals.


Kurt could feel heat and malice filling every inch of the gym and slowly suffocating him every time he took a breath.

He rubbed his eyes for a moment, struggling to process what horror had taken place. Within seconds of their victory, the girls had pelted innocent Rory with dodgeballs as they glared with their beady, disgusting eyes - it was sheer evil, and Kurt could sense it.

The wrath of the tension grasped Kurt so harshly, he wasn't sure how to react. He clenched his fists until they turned shining ivory, until the tightening of his muscles brought up mad pain. He took one large gulp after another, before his throat had grown stiff and even numb. He began to shake as he tried to exhale, only to tautly trap his lower lip between his sharp, furious teeth.

Rory now appeared even worse, and more unable to compensate. The boy was on his knees, gasping and grunting from the apparent agony. He looked up with drops of crimson blood piling from his nose, and slipping down his hands as he tried to hide his humiliated countenance.

Kurt huffed, grinding his teeth deeper into his lip, and grimacing as he tasted blood run down his own mouth. Like a warm, salty metal. He wasn't sure what agitated him more: the smell or the taste, but he was still very livid indeed.

He then sprang to Rory, attempting to provide solace to the crippled and helpless boy. He'd taken a closer glance at the boy's flaws; it'd been a horrifying sight of a grisly gushing nose, a vilely bruised display, and especially the gloom that appeared through his bloodshot eyes.

How could those girls have soullessly disfigured Rory? Kurt could not take any possible reason into consideration, finding it difficult to even concentrate as he watched the cruel dwindling of Rory's well-being.

Now his brother, Finn, was rushing to Rory's aid. He let out a gasp of, "Let's get you to the nurse." In Finn's attempt to pull Rory to his feet, he'd impulsively knocked Kurt to the ground - which had been rough, absurd, and the final straw.

Kurt yelled firmly, with a touch of upset that could not be underestimated.

"Kurt, calm down." Finn sighed, accompanied by a shrug.

Rory assured the lightness of his condition. "You do not have to get panicky and unstable about this, you know." His Irish accent was very heavy, anxiety incited from the excitement, however it was not as thick as the solid drops leaving his nose. The blood, the crimson line carrying all elements urgent for human function, the crimson line of life. The life was leaving Rory slowly and horrifically, not regarding the lethality. At this level, there was nothing light about his condition.

Kurt began thrusting at the racing of his heart, which had been pressing down on his organs and springing up to his throat madly and achingly. He began wheezing as his chest seemed to tighten to he point of collapsing. He could just see himself sparkling a ghost white, with no vitality to be found - as he'd gradually lost all his will to be conscious anymore.

His eyes were rolling around in his skull, the world around him growing foggy and being canceled out. Through the frustration, he began to shove people violently. He must have a clear trail to the door, he must have a feasible exit. He must leave the torture of this bloody event, the gross pain of witnessing an innocent person leak of blood and dignity. He really must leave this Hell land. He headed for the gym doors when one of he offenders, Santana had stopped him. He sternly and slightly inaudibly demanded, "Out of my damn way."

"Watch your language, Porcelain." She raised her eyebrow, while dodging his persistent pushes and smacks.

He growled, with full fury.

"Where do you think your going, now?" Her hands were on her hips, defying him. She stared him down with black eyes, resisting all his strength.

He would not let this bitch dominate him. She had already wounded his dear friend, she would definitely not tolerate her attempt in blocking his path. He repeated his demand, only to find her ignorance.

He planted a slam to her rib and chucked as he watched her limp up in pain, very satisfied with the blow. She now glared at him with her evil eyes, which made him take a step back.

Fuck, she wanted to hurt him. He could see it, the urges embracing her as a large bubble.

Kurt glanced into the distance, the small group of people occupying the gym observing him with obvious emotion. Actually, he soon realized, they all wanted to hurt him. Every single person in that place was out to get him - and he would not let them win.

He pucked her again, even stronger than before, to show off his ability. Despite Finn's pleads to calm down, he only continued. He crashed his fist into the second person nearest him, Mike, without fear or even a hint of hesitation.

He had stopped a nice portion of the people in the gym before a shorter figure appeared behind him to tap his shoulder. He wouldn't turn around. It was only a trap. And he wouldn't fall for it.

A voice easily recognizable - Tina - accompanied another tap on his shoulder with an inquiry of, "Are you okay?"

At that point, he wondered if he had been okay. He took a moment to rub his spiraling head.

Kurt ran two fingers along his chin to catch stale blood, also feeling a tightened, warm spot near his eye and upper cheek. A large bruise. They were injuries, caused by those damn people. Why did they have to fight, rather than allowing him to go about his exit?

He saw the harmed people rise from the ground, some clenching at least one aching part of their body. Fuck, they would not give up! They must have really, truly, deeply, passionately wanted to hurt him! He would have to-

He had abruptly been captivated in the strong arms of Finn, pressure killing every inch of his will. He screamed a demand to be let go.

"No, Kurt." Finn grasped around his waist even tighter, now covering his mouth. This restraint was so unnecessary. "You're going through a rough time, you're going insane. Just breathe."

Kurt wasn't insane, he wasn't mad. He was only defending himself from the harm. And he was unsure whether Finn had been keeping him from attacking for his life, or if he'd been trying to destroy Kurt and all his glory. He struggled as much as he could, but had no way to break free. Now, he'd found Blaine coming over to hold him, also.

"Why are you acting this way, Kurt? It was just a few dodgeballs to Rory." Blaine was quiet though firm.

Within the second, Kurt's struggles had made the three tumble harshly to the floor. Finn was not hesitant to grab a hold of Kurt once again as he'd previously been doing. Damn, they really, truly, deeply, passionately wanted to hurt him.

"Calm down!" Finn was now commanding loudly into his ear.

Blaine gasped as he found the strength to run off, unable to watch this incident any longer. Kurt could sense the apathy of Blaine, it had been obvious that Blaine did not care enough to defend his control - and Kurt enjoyed to know that. It had been one less pin to aim the ball for.

Filled with sizzling adrenaline, Kurt felt an impulse and force to battle. His life would depend on his ability to fight. Finn had a severely taut hold of Kurt's belly, enough to make the younger boy gasp for a breath and grow somewhat ready to cry. Kurt attempted to bite Finn's shoulder, but was unsuccessful. He made muffled screams into Finn's hand, kicking and elbowing very aggressively. Finn let Rory's mouth go and reached to squeeze his hip, which was burning in pain from the blows, making Kurt laugh a little.

"Fuck you, Finn!"

Mr. Schuester had arrived, following Blaine. The man had been very concerned and eager to help, although unsure of his steps.

Kurt's muscles fell lax as he began to shed a tear or two. He was helpless, weak, in danger with the fear of defeat and the threat of harm. And all he could do now was break down as Mr. Schuester grabbed hold of him. Provided with some solace, he was able to calm down somewhat before being escorted to the abandoned nurse's office to lie down.

Meanwhile, an authority figure gathered witnesses as well as Mr. Schuester with inquiries before a large van had appeared in front of the school. This would be a very long day.