A/N: It's been awhile since I've written anything, so cut me some slack. I have to get back into the swing of it :)

(and italicized font is flashbacky. just so ya know.)
I don't do disclaimers. I don't like witty little "baw baw doesn't belong to me baaaw" messages. I don't do them. You know who it belongs to.

Oh, and it looks better in 3/4 or 1/2 view. Don't know why, it just frustrates me when everything is one line. So if you shrink it up, it looks much better.

And since when did Fanfiction outlaw dashes all together for line breaks? Have I been gone this long, really?

CHAPTER ONE.

(o)(O)(o)

Kurt glanced over at Finn, not surprised to see the other boy looking down at the paper on his desk. He wasn't doing homework, he was doing anything that would keep him from having to look at Kurt. Two wrongs don't make a right, and they had both learned it the hard way. Nothing they had done was right, and all Kurt could do was stare. Some days, he regretted what he had done. He wished that they could speak again. He'd made a mistake, a very terrible mistake, but it didn't mean they couldn't be in love again...

Finally, Finn looked up, uncomfortably catching Kurt's gaze. Kurt could see the other boy visibly pale, his dark eyes narrowed. Finn took a deep breath, holding his gaze for only a moment before looking back down to his paper.

Kurt's heart fell, he just wanted to talk. He wasn't all bad...

(o)(O)(o)

"Dude, it's alright-"

"No! No, you don't understand! You don't know what it's like to have to be strong, not just for yourself, but everyone! You've never had to stand up for yourself, everyone just likes you, no one has ever hated you-ever!"

"Kurt, that's not true-"

"Yes, it is! You've never been thrown into a dumpster, or stuffed in lockers! Don't try to act like you understand what it's like! Don't even try!" He was flailing his arms, tears were pouring from his eyes. His white button up shirt was stained with red liquid, some of it blood, some of it dried sugary slush.

And right now, in this very second, Finn found him like an angel stomped to the earth, wings crushed. He wanted nothing but to soothe the pain, but there was so little he could do. The boy was so proud, so independent, even in his worst moments. So all Finn did was stand there, in silence, allowing the other boy to lash out at him.

"It's probably you're fault anyway! You hate living here! You hate living with me, because I'm different! God forbid I do something that you don't like! God forbid I be myself!" He was shaking with anger, pacing in front of Finn, "You probably made them do this to me! It was probably your idea!"

"...you know I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah? Yeah, well you didn't stop them! You'd never stop them! You'd rather see me thrown in the dirt and beaten than stand up for me. You're no better than any of them! It should be you! It should be you on the ground, crying for mercy!" He stormed closer to Finn, his eyes ablaze, "I don't care! I don't care if you didn't hit me!" At that, he swung a small fist, striking Finn just below the eye, "I'm sick of this, I'm sick of taking all your friend's shit! I'm sick of taking everyone's shit! I'm sick of taking your shit!"

Finn stumbled back, his fists clenched, "Kurt. Stop it. Just stop." He wouldn't hit him back, though at this point, he deserved it, "I'll stop them. I'll do... something. Just stop..."

"No! No, it's too late! I don't need to forgive any of you!"

(o)(O)(o)

"Has anything changed since we last spoke, Kurt?" The question could mean anything really. But Kurt knew what she meant. He wouldn't answer honestly even if anything had changed.

"No. Nothing." He sat across the room in a large leather chair, his hands gripping the worn brown armrests. It reminded him of the story about the doctor's office and Type A people and Type B people. He wondered to himself whether he was a Type A or Type B, and if he was wearing out the chair with his nervous gripping...

On the other side of the room sat a small woman with soft blonde hair, staring patiently back at him, despite his uneagerness to speak, "Have you talked to Finn?"

At this, Kurt's eyes snapped up from the arm of the chair, "Of course not. He doesn't want me to. Everything that ever happened between us is done. It's always going to be done." He flicked back his hair in a nonchalant way, hoping to appear uncaring, but he knew it was all in vain. She knew how deeply it bothered him, how terrible he felt.

She sighed, and wrote something short on her clipboard, then looked up at him, "Kurt. You know that's not true. What happened between you isn't ever going to be done. He didn't press charges-"

"Because his mother didn't want to. It had nothing to do with him." This was true, both of them knew it. Finn would have pressed charges if he had been in control of the situation. It was a miracle for Kurt that Carole had decided against it.

The woman decided to ignore his words, "I talk to him as well, you know."

"Yeah, well I know you're not allowed to speak about anything either of us says to anyone." Kurt narrowed his teal eyes, "I don't want to hear it. It's only a lie, anyway."

(o)(O)(o)

Finn sat in the leather chair, wondering if Kurt had been in the exact same position only hours before. His dark eyes examined the room around him, searching for any traces of the other boy left behind. He couldn't handle some sort of...intervention. Not if Kurt was involved. Sure, he could deal with him in classes, usually, but speaking face to face with him? It made him shiver to even think about.

"Finn?"

He looked up at the woman sitting across from him, "Yeah?"

"Well, how have you been since I last saw you?"

"Fine," he mumbled shortly. His fingers rubbed against the worn brown leather of the chair. He didn't want to be here. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here, talking about what had happened, and about Kurt.

"Nightmares?"

Finn took a deep breath, "I'm fine. It's not a big deal." Lies. He was lying. The nightmares plagued him day and night, torturing him every moment he closed his eyes. Only the sleeping pills that put him into a dreamless abyss held off the nightmares long enough for rest.

"What about the paranoia, Finn? How have you been dealing with that, lately?"

He shrugged, "I don't look for people out to get me so much." Which was true, mostly. He still searched for traces of Kurt in the air, but it wasn't all people he distrusted, just the one boy in particular. And he wouldn't call that paranoia, exactly.

"That's progress."

"Doesn't feel like it..." he growled softly, his dark eyes directed at the blue tiled floor. For a moment, he thought about laying down on the tile, pressing his cheek to the ice cold stone. To feel cool and solid, to melt like an iceburg into the cracks.

The woman frowned slightly, "What do you mean by that, Finn?"

"I mean that even if I'm not looking for people, I know there's people looking at me. It's not 'paranoia,' it's the truth. People know what happened, and even if they don't, they know something happened. It's not like I'm making this up. Everyone looks at me differently." This too, was true, it was just human nature. Everyone stares at the boy who's seen tragedy. Everyone edges around him, as if he's a fragile porcelain doll, ready to shatter at any second.

The doctor was silent for a moment, then finally spoke, tentatively, "Have you thought about going back to Glee club?"

"I'm not. I'm done singing." His eyes were cold and dark, this was something he would not budge on. He wouldn't sing again, ever.

"Have you talked to Kurt, then?"

A pang of terror and guilt struck deep in his chest, leaving him with a feeling something like a hard ball catching itself on his adam's apple, "I have nothing to say to him."

(o)(O)(o)

"Boys, what's going on? Jesus Christ, Kurt, what the hell happened?" Burt raced down the stairs, shocked by his only son's appearance.

"A bunch of guys jumped him," Finn mumbled, rubbing his cheek where Kurt had struck him. A bruise was already forming, and past his anger and guilt, he felt a little surprise, the small boy could really throw a punch.

Kurt glared, "I'm fine, Dad. It's fine." He tried to flatten out his hair, only to find sticky, tangled locks. There was dirt and dried slush in his hair, and blood on his hands, and trying to flatten it out wasn't helping in the least.

"Bullshit, Kurt. You're bleeding, you're a mess. Where the hell were you?" Burt turned on Finn, who looked down at the ground. He shuffled his feet a little before speaking quietly, not wanting to disappoint the closest he'd ever had to a father.

"I was still in class." It wasn't a lie, entirely. He had been in class. He had stayed late to talk to one of the teachers. It wasn't a lie. Even though he knew what was about to happen outside in the parking lot.

Tears poured from Kurt's eyes, but he turned away, heading towards the shower, "I'm fine, Dad. It's not a big deal." He was a little shaky on his feet, a little uneasy from the beating he had just taken. His steps were slow and uneven, and there was a part of him that wanted to linger, to run to his father's arms and cry until he fell asleep. Instead, he kept on, slowly moving towards the bathroom door.

Burt looked doubtful of his son's words, but waited until he had closed the bathroom door to turn angrily to Finn, "You find out who the hell did this."

Finn nodded weakly and watched as Burt left the room. And slowly, he walked towards the bathroom door, knocking quietly, "Kurt?" For a long moment, there was silence. Only seconds before Finn was about to turn and leave, a small voice whispered from inside.

"What do you want?"

"I'm sorry I didn't help you. I'm sorry, alright?" This wouldn't be enough for what had happened. He wouldn't even forgive himself for what he had done, why should Kurt?

"'Sorry' doesn't cut it, Finn." His voice was weak and echoed in the small bathroom, "Nothing you can say is going to fix this." And Finn knew it was true. Nothing he could ever do would make up for what had happened.

(o)(O)(o)

Kurt smiled and laughed, his light eyes connecting with the dark ones gazing so intensely into his, "Isn't this perfect?" His hair was swept up, fluttering slightly in a light wind. Everything about him looked so... right. So sweet, and innocent, and...perfect.

Finn nodded, the world almost cloudy around them, "Yeah, it's nice." Momentarily, he wondered where he could be, but quickly shook off the thought, it didn't really matter, did it?

Kurt walked forward, his hands behind his back, "It's so nice being with you. Just you, you know? With no one else around..." He looked so soft. Finn wanted to reach out, to run his hands through the boy's perfect hair, to squeeze his small hands with his own, but something held him back. Was it... fear?

"Yeah, it's kind of cool," Finn said softly.

Kurt took Finn's hands in his, smiling gently, "No one will see..."

"Y-yeah, I know..." he mumbled, allowing Kurt to sweep him into a gentle dance. It felt so perfect, and so normal, with Kurt pressed against his chest, a soft swaying dance taking over their feet. Finn rested his head on top of Kurt's, smiling softly, "Y-yeah, this is okay..." He closed his eyes, allowing the shorter boy to lead.

"I know. I told you everything would be alright." Kurt's voice had changed, no longer sweet and innocent, "I told you this would be good."

Finn's eyes snapped open; he was outside, his arms tied behind him, and Kurt was crouched above him, his sweet teal eyes now narrowed and angry, "W-what?"

"I told you this would be good, Finn." He threw water in Finn's face, laughing, "I told you we'd have fun." His voice was cold and dark, his eyes staring deep into Finn's, "I told you." He swung his fist around to the side of Finn's head, nothing but malice left in his eyes.

"Finn?"

He awoke with a start, shaking in his desk, "W-what?"

Rachel stood over him, her hand on his back, "Maybe you should go to the nurse, Finn..." She knew that he had nightmares. Everyone did at this point. Her eyes looked worried, but Finn brushed her off, swiftly jumping to his feet.

"Y-yeah, that sounds good," he muttered quickly, grabbing up his bag, "See you." Other students were staring, and all Finn could do was glare. He left the study hall room, paying very little attention to the teacher. Surely all his teachers were used to this by now.

Finn stopped at his locker, wondering what he was going to do next. He wasn't going to the nurse. The most logical idea was to go to the psychiatrist. Finn shook his head, he wasn't going to do that either. So he simply stood in front of his locker, unsure of what he wanted to do. He was still shaking, "Damn nightmares," he mumbled softly.

"Finn?"

He turned, surprised to see no one but an old teacher of his, Mr. Schue. "Uh... hi."

"You alright, Finn?" He looked worried, wrinkles deepening on his forehead as he stared at his former student.

Finn nodded quickly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." He ran a shaky hand through his dark hair, then shoved his bag into the locker.

Will frowned, "Alright.. I'm glad I ran into you, though. I've been wanting to talk to you."

Finn already knew where this was going, and he wasn't terribly eager to have this conversation again, "I'm not coming back, Mr. Schue. I'm sorry," He closed his locker, turning to face the teacher, "I don't sing anymore."

"It can be very therapeutic, Finn, if you'd just give it a chance." Will meant it, he'd seen several of the Glee kids work through their problems with music.

"I don't sing anymore, Mr. Schue, I'm sorry." Finn didn't want to explain why. He didn't want to talk to anyone about how Kurt had taken his voice. It was something he planned to keep to himself for the rest of his life.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Finn. But we'll always be waiting for you in Glee club if you want to come back. You're always welcome there."

"Thanks." Finn gave him a weak smile, "I've got to go though, I'm late for an appointment."

"Dr. Alex?"

"Y-yeah," Fantastic, he thought sarcastically, now he'd actually have to go talk to the school psychiatrist. There were a million other things he'd rather do at the moment.

"I'll walk with you," Mr. Schue clapped a hand on Finn's back as they started to walk, "You know Puck and Sam have to sing all the songs I'd want you to sing now."

"Yeah. They're good singers."

"They are good." The teacher gave him a smile, "I know you're not coming back, but I won't lie and say we're just as good without you. We're not."

"Sorry."

There was an awkward pause, and Finn glanced over at the teacher beside him, his brow furrowed, "You know why I can't sing, Mr. Schue."

"I know why you think you can't sing," Will said softly, "But no one can take your voice."

"Yes, they can." Finn mumbled, "It's not just a slap in the face that hurts." There are pains so much deeper than that, he thought to himself.

Mr. Schuester looked down, "Yeah, I know Finn. But song can be one of the best cures for any pain."

"I just don't believe that, Mr. Schue. Sorry." Finn stopped in front of a door, holding out his hand for a handshake with the teacher, "Thanks, though."

Will took his hand in a quick handshake, "Anytime, Finn. We'll always be waiting for you. Tell Dr. Alex I said 'hi.'"

Finn nodded and pushed open the door, not entirely eager for what he was about to go through.

(o)(O)(o)

A/N: Bad Kurt! Something made me want to make him bad and evil and awesome at the same time. But he feels bad about it, I promise.

Tell me how I'm doing, it's been a loooong time since I've written anything.