Summary: Karofsky's pled guilty but the fallout of his conviction sends tidal waves through McKinley High. It's hard enough to deal with the fallout, but it's even harder when no one knows just how far Karofsky's friends will go for revenge. Sequel to Invisible.

Warning: Mentions of non-con and a dream sequence including some violence and non-con elements, also some swearing.

A/N: Well here's the next chapter. It may seem a little Blaine-centric at the moment, but I promise that there's more Kurt and Finn in chapter three, as well as once we get more into the story there will be some Rachel, Mercedes, Puck and Sam involved. Plus I plan for a little Azimio action at some point as well. I pretty much have the story all planned out, now just to finish writing it! I have notes in my file with comments like: Klaine scene here, Brotherly Furt here, DK is an asshole here and such. It's actually a little more detailed, but I can't give everything away.

Oh yeah and I made a twitter to go with my fanfic account. Username is Nicbearosaurus if you want to find me. :D

Please enjoy the chapter. There will be a new one up next Friday at the latest!

Chapter 2 – Uncomfortable Encounters

Blaine stepped into his aunt's house, his house; he amended with a tired sigh. He was certainly glad and he and Wes and David were on slightly better terms, but he still hated how they were trying to tell him how he felt.

"Hey Auntie," Blaine greeted his aunt as he carefully hung up his jacket on the metal coat rack that stood in the small porch and pulled off his shoes, setting them carefully on the mat.

"Hi Honey," she returned the greeting softly, "How was it with Wes and David?"

He frowned for a moment, before pasting on a smile as he stepped into the living room.

He was still getting used to the changes of scenery. His aunt's small house was so much homier that the large Victorian-style house his mother and father owned. Instead of paintings on the walls, there were pictures of him, her only nephew, adorning the walls, as well as a family picture of his aunt, his father and their parents when they were young.

Instead of the living room looking sterile and pristine, it looked worn and lived in and he loved it.

"It was good. They're not mad at me for leaving Dalton anymore, and I guess I forgive them for being less than accepting of my decision at first." He shrugged his shoulders, "So it's good."

She raised an eyebrow at him, showing she didn't really believe him, but didn't comment. After a moment her tanned face softened and she told him, "Your father called today. He says since he doesn't have to pay Dalton's tuition anymore that he's willing to pay for your sessions. He's also going to start depositing money in your bank account regularly as a kind of allowance."

He scoffed, remembering the phone call he'd accidentally overheard before he'd left for coffee, "Yeah, because money makes up for him abandoning me when I needed him the most."

"He loves you honey," Marina said with a sigh, wrapping her arms around her nephew in a hug and drawing him down to sit on the couch, "He really does, you know that? He just doesn't know how to show it."

Blaine relished the physical comfort for just a moment, before pulling away and wrinkling his nose as he stood and headed towards the kitchen, "He could have just- been there." He let out an irritated growl, "Even if he had just show up for the trial when I had to testify, that would have been something." He looked inside the fridge as he heard his aunt follow him and grabbed a can of Coca Cola.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said in a quiet voice. He saw her frown had deepened when he turned around, "I do need to talk to you about something though." She pointed towards the dining room table, motioning for him to sit down.

He sat obediently and opened his pop, watching as she took the seat opposite him, "What is it?"

"I'm concerned about you," she started after a moment. "Sometimes I hear you crying out in your sleep." There was a soft pause, "and you never talk about what happened."

"What else is there to say?" He asked, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of the sweet drink, "I wasn't even there when it happened. All I know is what Kurt told me Auntie and I talk about how I feel about it at length with Dr. Seguin already." He shrugged his shoulders and set the can down, "I don't want my whole life to revolve around it and neither does Kurt."

Marina Anderson leaned forward, pressing her face into her hands, before raising it up again to look at him, "I'm not talking about what happened to Kurt, Blaine. I'm talking about what happened to you. You're not dealing with it."

"Oh my God!" He exclaimed in frustration, rising from the chair, "Why won't anyone just leave it alone? It wasn't a big deal! It was nothing Auntie! Nothing!" He paced the dining room for a moment, before adding, "Why is everyone so - so - adamant on making it out to be worse than it was? I mean he pinned me against a wall, no big deal."

"Blaine!" She raised her voice authoritatively, "Sit down."

He sank angrily back into the chair, his eyes glaring at her darkly, forgetting about the coke on the table.

"It's not everyone who is adamant on making it out to be worse than it was," she told him, her voice firm, but soft, "It's you who is being adamant that it wasn't a big deal. I know you and Kurt haven't gotten around to the physical part of being in love; neither of you are ready for that plus you both respect that about each other. What that Karofsky boy did to you was sexual assault, whether you want to admit it or not. He threatened to rape you, touched you inappropriately without your consent and took away your first serious intimate encounter with another boy. That leaves scars Blaine. Not ones you can see, but it still leaves scars."

Blaine clenched his hands into fists tightly. "Okay, you've had your say. Can I go now?"

"No," she said firmly. "You cannot. You need to realize that whether or not it 'compares' to what he did to Kurt, it still did something to you."

His mind tried to wrap around her words, but he couldn't. He shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Have you talked to Dr. Seguin about your nightmares?" She asked quietly, only slightly changing the subject.

He frowned tightly, "No. They're not important. They're just nightmares. I'm not a child. I can deal with them."

"That's where you're wrong," she took a deep breath; "You are a child. You're sixteen years old and you're taking on way more than you can handle on your own. I know you love Kurt and you don't want to take away from what he's been through, but admitting your suffering isn't going to do that."

He didn't say a word, just frowned at her.

"Alright," she said finally in a soft voice, "You can go now."

He rose from his chair, leaving his nearly full drink and heading to his room, and said "Thank you," stiffly as he walked. The moment he was in his bedroom he flopped down onto his unmade bed, sticking his feet under the chocolate colored comforter and pulling it up to his chin.

He remembered a time when he made his bed unfailingly. That time was over. It had ended only mere days after he moved in with his aunt. She never commented on it, but then again, she never knew he used to do different.

His eyes peered to the clock. How was it only seven o'clock and why was he so tired? It seemed like he was never fully awake anymore.

He curled up onto his side and stared at the wall, part of him wishing he could go home to his parents. He didn't know why, but for some reason he still missed them. Well, he missed the parents he used to have when they thought he was straight.

His dad used to take him fishing and talk to him, really talk to him. It wasn't like it was now, where every conversation was strained and awkward. They hadn't gone on a fishing trip in a long time.

His mother, she used to hug him. He missed that most of all.

It was almost like they were afraid of him sometimes.

He blinked back tears and wrinkled his noise as the familiar tightness of his sinuses before a crying jag became apparent.

He loved his aunt, he did. She treated him the same after he came out as before, but she wasn't his mother. As much as he wished his mother was like her, or that she was his mother, she still wasn't. It just wasn't the same.

He let his eyes flutter closed. If he slept he wouldn't cry.

"Hello?" Kurt answered his cell phone uncertainly, recognizing the number as Blaine's new home phone number. It was just kind of weird because Blaine always, always called on his cell phone.

"Kurt," a decidedly feminine voice answered, "This is Marina Anderson, Blaine's aunt."

"Oh, right," he frowned in concern, "Is Blaine okay?"

There was a long sigh on the other end of the phone, "That's actually why I'm calling you Kurt." There was a short pause, "I'm worried about Blaine and honestly, I don't know what to do. I don't want to put anything else on your plate right now, because I know you're going through a really tough time, but I don't know who else he'll listen to."

Kurt's frowned deepened and he swallowed, "What's wrong with him?"

"He refuses to accept that he's hurting," the woman told him, her tone sounding somewhat desperate. "I've tried talking to him myself, but he won't listen to me. I mean, he accepts that he's hurting on your behalf, but he won't accept that he's suffering his own pain too."

"W-what do you mean?" He asked, licking his lips. "What kind of pain?"

"Oh Kurt," she sighed, "He's been having nightmares every night. He went out to see Wes and David today and they called me in concern, saying Blaine had some sort of flashback when he was out for coffee with them. He won't talk about it. All he ever says is he's fine and it doesn't compare; that it was nothing."

"I still don't understand," Kurt murmured, although he understood perfectly. He remembered how upset Blaine had been after Karofsky had attacked and threatened him. He just hadn't thought of it since. He'd been too busy dealing with the trial and having to testify to even give it a thought. His heart clenched; had he really been that selfish? Had he leaned on Blaine so heavily, without letting the other boy lean back?

"When that boy attacked him," Marina said in a quiet tone, "It really affected him. He can't admit how much it scarred him Kurt and I'm afraid of what will happen if he doesn't come to terms with it. I just wanted to ask you if you could remind him that it's okay to admit that it hurt. He's so afraid that admitting it will take away importance from what happened to you. You need to remind him that it won't."

"I will," Kurt promised her softly. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Kurt," she cautioned softly. "I want you to help him, but don't do to yourself what he's doing either, okay?"

"Okay," he replied after a moment, "I won't." He paused for a long time, "Would you mind I came over?"

"Please."

"Please," he begged, pushing desperately against the bigger boy. "Please don't touch me. St-stop."

"Don't cry Blainey-boy," Karofsky whispered, his hot breath making him wrinkle his nose in disgust. "You know this is what you really want. All little fags want a good fucking. Isn't that right?"

"No! No," he pleaded, feeling the warm hand slip underneath his shirt and tugging lightly at the hair sprinkled across his stomach. "Stop." A fog seemed to slip into the hallways, paralyzing him the moment it touched his skin.

"I can't do that Blainey-boy," Karofsky told him in a mockingly gentle voice, this time slipping his hand downward into his jean and gripping him there. The squeeze felt like it should be painful through the cloudyness and he gasped out despite that everything seemed so disconnected, tears sliding down his face helplessly. "You should have kept your mouth shut Blainey."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, apologizing over and over again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sorry just ain't good enough," was his answer as the hand gripped tighter and jerked hard. He screamed out loud.

"Help me!" He screamed into the emptiness as the halls of the school seemed to fall away into cloudy blackness, but no one was there to hear him. No one was there to help him. "Help me! God, somebody please help me."

"No one's going to help you," Karofsky murmured, kissing his unwilling lips as he gave another painful jerk. The hand left him, and snatched his pants downward, before slamming him around. "It's just me and you now."

"No!" He braced himself for the unbearable pain.

Blaine's eyes snapped open, hearing the "No!" leave his lips before he even realized it. His whole body trembled and he realized suddenly that his cheeks were wet.

"Blaine?" His head jerked upward and he spotted Kurt as the other boy ran into the room.

"Kurt?" He whispered, wiping his cheeks in surprise and sitting up in his bed. His eyes immediately checked his digital clock. It was only seven-thirty. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't come visit my boyfriend?" Kurt asked, his eyes filled with concern. He licked his lips softly and frowned, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Blaine assured him, faking a smile, "It was just a bad dream, promise."

"Looks like it was a really bad one," Kurt commented, sitting down on the bed and getting under the covers with his boyfriend. He grasped his hand tightly. "You yelled pretty loudly and I can tell you were crying." Quietly he leaned against Blaine and looked up at him, "Want to tell me about it?"

Blaine shook his head, still faking a soft smile, "No, it's alright."

Kurt frowned at him, "I want you to tell me about it."

Blaine ground his teeth together as he yanked his hand away, asking tightly, "She called you, didn't she?"

"Is it so bad that she did?" Kurt asked him in a soft voice, his eyes starting to shine slightly at Blaine's rough words, "She loves you Blaine. She's worried about you. I'm worried about you too."

"Exactly!" Blaine exclaimed in frustration. "You're not supposed to be worrying about me. You're supposed to be worrying about you. You don't need this right now."

"What I need," Kurt's voice got tight, "is for my boyfriend to let me be there for him. It's not fair Blaine. It's not fair that you get to be there for me and help me and I can't do the same for you. Do you know how hard that is for me? I feel like such a Goddamn burden, to everyone. I know you're hurting too, so do me a favor and let me help you."

"No," Blaine shook his head softly, "Kurt, it just- it doesn't compare. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Kurt bit down on his lip hard and tried again, "Blaine, please. Let me do something that makes me feel like I'm worthwhile. Let me listen. Please, just tell me about your nightmare, okay?"

Blaine sank down slightly in the bed. When Kurt begged like that, sounding so sad and hurt, he just couldn't deny him. "Okay, fine, but if I do this, you have to talk to me too. You can't keep brushing me off about it, okay?"

Kurt frowned deeply, before muttering a soft, "fine."

He swallowed thickly. "It's like this. I'm at McKinley and he- he's touching me and I'm begging him to stop. I'm screaming for someone to help me, but no one comes, then I wake up. Alright?"

"Blaine," he let out the name in a whisper, snaking his arms tightly around Blaine's waist, "I'm sorry."

"No," Blaine told him, swallowing thickly, "Don't be. It was only a dream after all. You- you had to live it."

"What aren't you telling me," Kurt asked after a minute, looking carefully into his eyes.

Blaine sighed and knew better than to lie when Kurt was looking at him like that, "Sometimes I don't wake up right away, okay? Sometimes, in the nightmares, he rapes me." He shook his head, "but like I said. It's just a dream. Eventually I always wake up. You don't get that."

"I get those dreams too," Kurt admitted in a soft voice, trying to keep up his side of the bargain. "I dream about what happened- or sometimes I dream about what he could have done to you-" he paused quietly, biting down on his lip, "You may not think what happened to you was a big deal, but it was. It was because in that moment, when he had you there, you didn't think he was going to stop, did you?"

Blaine looked down, "Maybe." He paused, before being more truthful, "He wouldn't have stopped Kurt. I know that. I know how lucky I was."

Kurt's tongue flitted over his lips nervously, remembering just how he'd felt during the harassment and the moments leading up to the brutal attack. Maybe Blaine hadn't been broken in the same way he had, but he remembered the terror that had been his constant companion in the days leading up. "You really think you were lucky?"

"Don't you?" Blaine asked thickly after a short pause. "Don't you wish it had stopped after a few uncomfortable encounters?"

"No Blaine," Kurt leaned away from the other boy, looking at him with a pained expression, "Maybe it would have been better than what happened in the end, but what I really wish for… is that none of it had happened at all." He shook his head vigorously for a moment, as if it would clear his head, "Is that what you call it, an uncomfortable encounter?"

Kurt let out a bitter sounding laugh despite the watery shining in his eyes, "I don't know about you Blaine, but it was more than uncomfortable for me, even before he raped me. It was Goddamn terrifying."

"I never meant it like that-"

Kurt shook his head, "It doesn't matter how you meant it Blaine. You're so scared of admitting to anyone, let alone yourself that what happened to you hurt. And your excuse is so stupid." The taller boy's voice was shaking now as he pulled himself up from the bed. "You think that admitting it will detract from what happened to me? No Blaine, that's not what it would do. That's what you're doing now." Kurt took in a few heavy breaths, blinking to try to keep his emotions at bay. "Uncomfortable encounters?"

"Kurt I-"

Kurt shook his head, stopping the other boy. "I should go. This was a bad idea."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. I also hope that you leave me a nice little review. I just got a new cat and found out reviews make Patches happy! So... make my kitty happy please :D.