A/N: Ah, I got so many alerts and favorites. Thanks, guys! It means a lot to me.

Anyways, this particular chapter takes place when Blaine is in middle school, so he's not around all of the accepting men of Dalton yet. I predict this is when he is about thirteenish, so eigth grade. Right before he's sent off to DA. (I wanted him to be able to relate to Kurt... somehow.)

Hurt

It hurt, the first time he made contact with a locker. The handle on the metal dug into his back. Day by day, the bruise began to grow larger. Every time he touched it, tears sprung to his eyes, the pain seemingly growing worse. No one ever saw the incident, and no one really understood why, and they never would, he hoped.

Oh, God, he thought, how much longer will I have to deal with this?

He would never tell his friends. When the bruise disappeared, he pretended to go back to normal, but it would never be normal because now his issue had been addressed. At lunch one day, his eyes met the eyes of those sitting at his table. He could feel the wave of distress wash over him without mercy.

"Blaine," Michael asked, "is everything okay?"

Blaine simply nodded, but his heartbeat quickened, and a tear even lingered in the corner of his eye. Finally, he gave up, shaking his head. "You guys, I need to tell you something." All eyes were now on him. Suddenly this didn't seem like such a great idea. "I don't know how you all are going to feel about this, but I-I'm gay."

Silence followed. It hurt him, more than he would ever admit, but he wasn't about to give in to them. Instead, he used his sleeve to eliminate the tear as it sailed down his cheek. He remembered how strong he had been once; he knew that strength still existed within, if only he could pull it out now. No matter what, he wouldn't break, not now, anyways. Just see what they do.

It was as if the entire room had frozen, though no one else heard - or so he'd hoped. Either way, no one dared to move an inch or murmur a single thought. Blaine couldn't help but close his eyes. Eventually, he heard the sound of a chair sliding backwards, then two, three, four. Finally, the noise stopped. When he brought himself to open his eyes, only Michael remained, his blonde eyebrows knit together.

"You stayed?" Blaine's voice was hoarse and weak. It hurt, every ounce of him hurt.

Michael didn't answer for the longest moment. Then, he quietly grunted, almost like a deep chuckle. "I kind of suspected, from… well, just everything. I was never sure, that's why I didn't say anything, but I mean, you were never weird around me, you never - as rash as this may sound - hit on me, so I decided even if you weren't, I would accept you. You're my best friend. No matter what."

The two friends smiled at one another. For such a short speech, it was so meaningful. He didn't know how he had managed to find such a great friend in Michael, but now he knew it had been the right decision all along.

He didn't hurt so much anymore.

That is, until his chair was suddenly thrust out from underneath him. Michael gasped slightly, fear creeping into his mind as the tall kid responsible glared at him. Then, he turned back to Blaine. "I don't think your kind has a right to sit here. So, get lost."

Slowly but surely, the pain returned, draining the color from his face. Even Michael wouldn't stand up for him. Did that mean his words meant nothing? No, they had to mean something, didn't they?

But when the boy gazed at Michael, he spat, "Why don't you take your little girlfriend, and get out of here?"

Michael sprinted out as fast as he could, but he didn't take his "little girlfriend" with him.

Blaine knew it was all too good to be true. How could he have been so stupid to think any differently? He was almost positive he would always have be hurt. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?

I will be taking requests if there's any moment you would like to see of Blaine. Within reason, although, I'm sure that's pretty obvious.

Now, go on and click that review button!