First off, let me thank everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter of this fic, as well as all of you who may not have reviewed, but nonetheless enjoyed what I wrote. I means a lot to me to have so many encouraging people helping me get through this. Apologies for not posting sooner. Due to midterms (as well as finals, blah) i can only post on weekends, butt hank you for being patient. And now, for the next chapter!

"Blaine, we need to talk." Wes set his lunch down across from his solemn friend.

"Can it wait?" Blaine was impatiently awaiting a text from Kurt and didn't want to explain his unusual new friendship to "The Next Weasley Twins."

"No, it can't." David joined in the conversation. "Not after what you pulled Friday night. I mean, what was with you?"

"I don't know." Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tried to ignore their skeptical stares.

"Blaine," Wes placed his hand gently over his friends. Blaine's instinct at that point was to snatch his hand away as quick as possible. He tried to cover up the action by reaching for his cell phone, pretending he had gotten a text. He hadn't, of course. He gritted his teeth and looked back towards his friend, surprised to see Wes looking at him in shock.

"What?"

"What the hell was that? What, now you don't even want to touch me!"

"Wes, it isn't-"

"No, fuck this, Anderson! You know, I'm trying really hard to be supportive of your pathetic little man-period, and I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but seriously, I don't deserve to be treated like this. I don't care if you woke up and your hair won't stay just the way you want it, or if someone stepped on your new designer shoes, or if you're just pissed off because the whole world isn't bowing down to you, but this is going too far!" Wes practically shouted in his face, and for a few seconds following his little speech the table sat quiet.

Then, keeping a firm grasp on his sanity, Blaine started to speak in a whisper.

"What the hell do you think is wrong with me, hm?" He said each word painfully slow.

"I think that ever since Dean Murray left you haven't been anyone's little golden boy, and you miss the attention." Wes folded his arms across his chest and leaned back as if he expected to get a pat on the back.

David was always the smarter of the dynamic duo, so it was no surprise that he stayed quiet, fully aware of the danger of jumping into this conversation. He saw how hard Blaine was struggling to keep his composure, how his eyes hardened as Wes' explanation. He knew intuitively that this situation was so much deeper than Wes was making it seem, but the look in Blaine's eyes was scary. He was, in all honesty, afraid to discuss the subject any further.

Blaine leaned toward Wes and said, in a quiet, hard voice, "No, Wes, this is going too far."

"Oh yeah? Call me when you stop fancying yourself better than the rest of the world," Wes spit back at his friend. Well, ex-friend. Blaine jumped up from the table and walked away with a speed that would make every sparkly vampire in the world jealous.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Blaine heard David ask bitterly from behind him. He marched out of the dining hall, wanting only the comfort of his room at this point. Not his Dalton room, either. Too many nights have been spent on the brink of insanity for him to find comfort in such a place.

"Blaine, wait!" David was rushing quickly to his friend's side. When Blaine wouldn't stop walking he reached his hand out to catch his elbow, but quickly withdrew it, remembering the way Blaine's hand jerked almost instinctively away from Wes' when he had touched it.

"What do you want, David?" His bitterness towards Wes was poorly concealed, but he tried to remind himself that, contrary to popular belief, Wes and David were two completely different people.

"To tell you that if you ever need a friend I'll always be here for you." This stopped Blaine in his tracks and he turned to look at David, mystified.

"Dude, I know that you're going through something...serious. I may not know what it is, but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna abandon you. When you're ready to tell me, you will."

And this was why David was Blaine's first true friend at Dalton. He had always been there for Blaine when they first met, even before Blaine was willing to tell him why he ran from his hometown. That was the major difference between Wes and David. By the time Blaine and Wes became friends Blaine was comfortable enough with himself to tell Wes everything, and that's what Wes was used to. David, on the other hand, knew that serious issues took time for Blaine to process and accept, and this situation was no exception.

"Thank you, David." For the first time in weeks Blaine smiled. It was small, and short-lived, but it was a smile nonetheless. David reached out tentatively and gently squeezed Blaine's hand in his own before issuing a 'see ya later' and heading to his first block class. Blaine had other plans.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and, checking the caller id, saw that it was from Kurt.

"Finally," he whispered. Blaine made his way up the main stairs of the school, heading for the room where the Warblers usually held practice. It wouldn't be nearly as comfortable now that Wes was being a royal ass, but it was better than his room. He threw some cushions together in a pile in the corner hidden behind couches and cuddled into the pillows, perfectly hidden to anyone who happened to wander in.

Blaine wasn't surprised that it had taken so long for Kurt to respond to his last text. He had asked the boy a very person question, one that he was almost positive he would not receive an answer to, but it appeared that Kurt was willing to answer it.

After spewing his guts to Kurt two days ago, Blaine was dead-set on getting the attention off himself for a while. It became too much to think about his tragic life story, so he had asked Kurt about his situation. Surely if Kurt could comfort him in his time of need than Blaine could return the favor. So Kurt began to tell him about the bullying, and feeling like a complete outcast at his school. Blaine understood it perfectly; it was like he and this boy had almost lived the same life for a short period of time, before Blaine took one path and Kurt took another. Then Kurt told him, in detail, about Dave. He told him about the stupid closet-case kissing him, and how he was more afraid of him after that kiss than he ever was before. When Blaine asked him why, he received a very long silence from the other boy.

Okay, I know this probably sounds stupid to you, after what you've been through. Or maybe it doesn't, I don't know. I'm just...afraid that one day he'll go too far. I mean, on the one hand he has an intense attraction for me, and on the other he wants to kill me. Violence and romance do not mix well. I'm scared how he'll act if I'm ever alone with him again. I'm afraid a kiss won't be enough for him.

It didn't sound stupid to Blaine at all. He knew all too well what happened when affection and violence mixed.

Maybe some people would find that stupid, but I'm not one of them.

Blaine slipped his phone into his pocket and lay back on his mountain of pillows. He could feel himself sinking into sleep and didn't have the strength to pull himself out. Everything- schoolwork, Warblers- seemed completely irrelevant lately. It scared him how little he cared about anything, but at the same time, it didn't altogether bother him. Maybe he just wasn't long for this world.

O.o.O

"Honey, could you come here for a minute?" Mrs. Anderson called up the stairs of her huge house, holding a letter in her hand. Her husband dashed down the stairs, still trying to fix his tie in the process.

"What is it, Sweetie? I have a very important meeting in a short bit, and I can't afford to-"

"It's from Blaine's school."

"Well, then," Senator Anderson puffed out his chest in a pompous manner. "What has our boy done this time? Made the Dalton Academy Hall of Fame? I've always said that boy was the best thing that ever happened to that school."

"Afraid not this time." His wife shook her permed hair out and sighed in an overly-theatrical manner.

"'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,'" she began to read. "'It is a pleasure, as always, to be talking to two such fine people, and truly an honor to be made Dean of such a fine school where I have the privilege of being somewhat of a mentor into life for your talented son. That being said, it pains me to not bring you good news about your boy's education. Rather, I'm forced to bring you the opposite. I know that this goes without saying that Dalton it not at all cheap and I know you would hate to waste your money on nothing at all. So I thought you would like to be made aware of the fact that your son has been skipping classes for the passed week. Not all, mind you, but his patterns are so sporadic that it appears he simply skips whenever he feels like it. Now, skipping is a disciplinary problem, and I have tried to speak with Blaine about the matter privately, but he seems to be displaying rude, disrespectful manners toward me, and everyone for that matter. It is not my wishes to remove Blaine from Dalton because, as I have said before, he is unmatched in talent and has much going for him, but I won't stand for his behavior. Please speak with him, if you can. Again, I am truly sorry for not bringing you happier news, but I have full confidence that the matter will be resolved peacefully very soon. Thank you for your time."'

"Blaine, displaying rude behavior? To a Dean? This has to stop."

"Honey, maybe he's having...I don't know, boyfriend troubles or something. Maybe it's a passing phase."

"You're right, it is a passing phase. Because it's going to pass now."

O.o.O.

Blaine was startled awake by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He looked around, disoriented, and realized that he hadn't even been asleep more than an hour. He pulled his phone out and answered it quickly without checking the id, hoping it was Kurt. Who else would call him during school hours?

"Hello?"

"Hello son, funny you answered your phone during school hours." Blaine knew instantly that he was in trouble. His father's voice was tight and forced.

"Yeah, well, I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. Huge headache, I couldn't be in school."

"Hm, have you, by any chance, been having a chronic headache this entire week?"

"Um...no?"

"Then why have you been skipping?" Oh, so he knew. So that bastard had the nerve to complain about him to his family.

"Dad, I can explai-"

"Explain? Explain why your mother and I are wasting thousands of dollars a year so that you can go to a decent school and not get abused?"

"Dad, stop! This goes so far beyond money-"

"Money is everything, Blaine! Connections are everything! And if you don't start shaping up, I'll take you out of that school so fast you won't even see it coming. Now, I don't want to hear another complaint from Dean Marshall. He's a good friend of mine, and I don't appreciate you disrespecting my friends like-"

"I hate you." The words were out before Blaine could stop himself, spit out violently as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

"I-excuse me?"

"I fucking hate your guts!" Blaine threw his phone across the room, not caring the slightest when it hit the wall and shattered into what looked like eight different pieces. After everything that had already happened, after the way his supposed best friend had treated him, now he had to deal with this!

Why was it that he could only find comfort in the words of a stranger?

He would love to go back to his old school, to get away from an abusive man that his own father regarded with more fondness than his own son. The pain he felt was like a physical tearing in his chest, and he gasped for breath. A cloud of darkness was hovering over Blaine's head, trying to suck him under, and it only took Blaine a few seconds to give up trying to breathe. His chest constricted and he felt himself suffocating, but he couldn't find the willpower to open his mouth and take another breath. There seemed no point in living at this point.

Blaine let the darkness cloud his mind completely, taking him away from the pain that he had grown accustomed to in the last few weeks. And for a few short seconds, he smiled, believing that he was dying.

Hey guys, thanks for reading! Sorry, I know I promised that things would get better. Cross your fingers for the next chapter! Thank you so much for reading, and reviews Would be absolutely amazing!

Since music is my soul food, in case you're wondering these are the songs I used for inspiration for this chapter. The first chapter, and the story as a whole, is inspired by Three Days Grace's "Never Too Late"

Playlist for Chapter 2:

Becoming the Bull- Atreyu
Helena- My Chemical Romance
The Chronicles of Life and Death- Good Charlotte
Hero- Skillet