Kurt was curled up on the ground, watching his attackers walking away, laughing at him, covered in his own blood and their spit.
He tried to get up, and as he did, groaned, yep, he had at least two broken ribs. As he led back down, waiting to die from the blood loss, he thought of why they would attack him of all people.
The only thing that he had 'done wrong' was to be gay, he didn't even practice it. He had never had a boyfriend, he had never been in love, and now lying on the ground, dying he knew he never would.
Kurt closed his eyes, deciding to die in his sleep, when he saw a figure approaching him, not very tall, a head of dark, curly hair, sprinting towards the small figure on the floor.
"Hey, are you alright?" A masculine voice asked kindly.
Kurt tried to speak, but he couldn't so his reply was a small groan, even that left him in agony.
"Can't talk? Do you think anything's broken?" The man asked gently.
Kurt indicated towards his rib cage as a reply.
"Oh, broken ribs, okay."
The man pulled out his phone and called 911, explaining that he saw the people attacking Kurt and what state Kurt was in.
"They said for you to try to talk and stay awake, what's your name?"
"K-Kurt."
"Okay, Kurt, I'm Blaine, I'll stay with you until the ambulance gets here"
"T-thank you" Kurt mumbled in reply.
After 10 minutes of a comforting smile, the ambulance arrived and pulled Kurt in on a stretcher, Blaine following into the ambulance.
Kurt thought to himself 'There are good people in the world, after all.'