Don't worry! I'm planning on this being a one-shot. It's really dark - you've been warned. Slightly AU - Kurt dropped out of New Directions mid-first season, around Sectionals. Karofsky did a lot more than just kiss Kurt, and he's never met Blaine.
Kurt was never a fully happy boy. He had his dad. That was it. He was the only person in his life who'd never betrayed him or tortured him... or left him.
He used to be in a glee club, New Directions. Stuck with them for around half a year. They might've been going places - especially that Rachel Berry - but he wouldn't be around to find out. The whole time he was there he was invisible. There was no change. If anything, joining glee made him feel worse about himself and got him thrown in dumpsters more often. So he quit. Right before Sectionals. They hadn't even noticed he'd gone, as far as he knew. He just stopped showing at rehearsals, and no one even bat an eyelash. It what was he expected.
His mother was dead. She'd died when he was eight.
He was bullied constantly. Shoved into lockers, slushied, threatened, beaten up, locked in closets, dumpster tosses, vandalized...and worse. He'd never forget that day when the big meaty jock stole something he'd never get back. Of course he'd kept all this to himself.
The breaking point was in October, when the jocks had snatched him on his way home and beat him with baseball bats and threw rocks at him until he was too tired to fight back. Then they'd just left him in the street to...what? Bleed? Die? Get run over? Kurt would never know.
Kurt came home every day in a daze, the same expression on his face. It was sad in the beginning, like he was just a sulky teenager - normal. But recently, he'd been coming home with his face completely blank. No emotion whatsoever. He'd lock himself in his room, do his homework and fall asleep. At least, to his father's knowledge.
Kurt Hummel absolutely hated himself and he hated his life. He wanted out, and the scars up and down his arms were sure proof of it. But it wasn't enough. Cutting wasn't enough to ease the pain. Kurt had always prided himself in being strong - but he wasn't anymore. He was broken. And he was exhausted from the effort of living. Putting on a happy face every day - a practice he'd given up long ago. Eating. Walking. Talking. Caring. Everything. He was done. Part of him hated that he was letting himself give up, but Kurt could easily silence that voice with a razor.
So on that Friday night, after having told his dad he was going to a sleepover (it was a miracle Burt believed him), Kurt went out in the woods with a rope.
On that same Friday night, simply due to fate, a seventeen-year old Blaine Anderson was in the same wood. He went their to write songs, mostly. He always came up with his best lyrics when he was staring up into the sky in a certain clearing, where the trees outlined the moon perfectly, the light shining down onto his notebook, serving as the perfect light.
So, on that night, he was walking to his clearing, thinking. Not about anything in particular, really. His guitar at home. Projects he had yet to finish. So on and so on. He was essentially in his own world until he heard what sounded like a strangled sob. "Who's there?" he said, instincts kicking in. He heard it again. It sounded more like someone was crying than looking for trouble, so he followed the source. He walked in a part of the woods he wasn't completely familiar with, and he started to get anxious. What if it's a trap? It wasn't. At least, not for him.
In the dark, barely visible, Blaine caught sight of a boy, tying a rope around a sturdy branch on a tree, sobbing quietly and muttering what sounded like a prayer. As soon as he began to wrap the rope around his neck Blaine was in action. "What are you doing?" he cried, running to the boy who hadn't even acknowledged him. He was closing his eyes. "Get down from there!" He wasn't very high up, maybe half a foot off the ground, but it was enough for the job to get done. The boy was already starting to choke.
Blaine climbed up the tree and the boy finally noticed his existence. "Don't," he choked out, and when Blaine began to untie the rope it turned into a scream. "Don't!" he shrieked, smacking his hands away, tears pouring down his face in buckets, eyes ablaze. Finally he managed to untie the knot and the boy fell to the ground. Not far enough to hurt him, and Blaine thought he was going to get up and run away, but he just lied there, sobbing quietly again.
Blaine climbed down from the tree and slowly walked towards the boy. He had never seen him before in his life, but something about him made the raven-haired boy want to get him to safety, and it wasn't just being a good person.
He kneeled down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, the boy whipped around and slapped his hand away, and Blaine got a good look at him. He was ashamed that the first thing that came to his mind was how attractive he was. "What do you want?" he demanded, staring at Blaine like he wanted to spit at him.
"I wanna h-help," Blaine said nervously. Most people would have abandoned the kid by now, but Blaine wasn't about to.
"Why? Why would anyone want to help? Leave me alone!"
"Look, I -"
"I swear if you don't leave right now I'll -" Suddenly the fury was gone and his face was buried in Blaine's shoulder. Blaine refused to shed a tear. This boy needed someone, even if he didn't want anyone.
"C'mon," Blaine muttered, urging him to stand up - which he didn't. After several attempts, he finally settled on picking up the boy bridal style.
"H-help," the boy squeaked, and Blaine couldn't tell if he was trying to call for someone or speaking to him directly.
He knew it was a bad idea, but Blaine took the strange boy to his car and sat him in the passenger's seat. He looked at him for a while. He'd stopped crying and now looked completely blank. Blaine wouldn't learn until later that he'd just put up his walls.
"Hey," Blaine said quietly. The boy didn't look up. "Don't try anything like that again, ok? You could seriously scare somebody. You sure scared me."
"I don't care," the boy replied quietly. "I don't want this anymore."
"Want what?" Blaine said half-desperately, having absolutely no clue why he was so curious. The boy didn't respond, so Blaine changed the subject. "Where do you live?"
"I don't."
"You don't have a home?" The boy's limit seemed to be one question per subject, for he didn't reply again. "Well, what's your name?"
"Kurt," he said, spitting it out like it was the ugliest thing he'd ever said in his life. Blaine opened his mouth to speak again when Kurt continued, much too calmly for comfort. "Anything else you'd like to know? Because I was sort of in the middle of something."
"Kurt, there's no way in hell I'm letting you back out there." Kurt looked at him with pleading eyes. Blaine sighed. "C'mon, I'm taking you home. It's already...midnight. You can spend the night." He knew it was a long shot, that he'd only just met the boy, but he wanted to help more than he wanted to breathe.
"No." He choked it out, crossing his arms defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You ruined everything." He said the words with so much hatred Blaine almost lost hope.
"Would anyone be looking for you?"
He looked at Blaine like he wanted to rip out his throat. Then, his eyes fluttered shut, and before Blaine knew it, he was either sleeping or out cold.
He knew there was probably some sort of law against it...but he had to help Kurt in any way he possibly could. He didn't know what was going on in his life, but he was ready to find out.
And just like that, he turned on the ignition and headed towards Westerville.
Really dark, I know. I hope I wrote this alright. I know it's a really serious topic and I don't want to be disrespectful, but I'm not one to do anything half-assed, either. I hope this wasn't too exaggerated. I feel like Kurt's really just lost in this one. He's feeling a mixture of emotions all at once - anger, exhaustion, depression, defensiveness - and it's making him seem a little crazy because he's just too tired to control himself. I've never been in this situation, so I wouldn't know what it's like, but, hey, everyone's different, right? And it's midnight and I'm assuming he isn't taking very good care of himself, hence the falling asleep/passing out. If I offended anyone, please, no hate!