Unsurprisingly, I didn't get any sleep that night. I sat up for hours, just looking through the box of things Kurt had saved for me. I was overwhelmed. What the hell had happened? How did he know that I hadn't killed Billy? How did he know it was Cooper? None of it made sense.
Nobody had looked out for me. Not since my Mom had died. It had to be a joke. Hummel was winding me up or something. He had to be. Nobody knew the truth. Nobody knew that Cooper had done the crime. Only me.

I had to find out what the hell he was playing at. I needed to know why he was screwing with me. Was I some sort of pet project or something? I didn't like it. I pushed the box away from me and sat staring at the ceiling for the next hour or two.

I had to hand it to Hummel, he had played me pretty good. For just a moment, I thought he cared. And that was a mistake. I had learnt many years ago that nobody in this world cared. Everyone was out for themselves. I groaned, realising I wouldn't be able to have it out with him until Friday. It was Wednesday and in an hours time I had to make my way to the shitty mechanics course. Every Wednesday and Thursday I had to go and mess around with cars. I had reasoned at the time that it was the only practical I wanted to do and as we had to pick one, it might as well be that. But now I was regretting it. I didn't want to do any of these courses.

I showered , ate some cereal and got changed , ready for my day of hell. I didn't even have Hummel's arse to look at today. I frowned, shaking the thought's out of my head. I didn't want to think about him. I wanted to deal with him. But I had to put him out of my mind until Friday.

I made my way to the garage where I would be spending the next Wednesdays and Thursdays for at least a year, looking at a map. When I came to the garage, I stopped, staring at the sign in shock.

Why the fuck did it say Hummel? This had to be a joke. I stormed in , joining the other three ex convicts. I recognised one of them. He had given me a beating once around six years ago, but after that, he had left me alone. People like him didn't scare me anymore. I had been through too much in jail to be scared by anyone or anything now.

I sighed in relief as an older guy with a baseball cap came over to us. I was expecting to see Hummel after reading the sign.

"Right guys, let's get this going. You are here to learn. If any of you give me any crap, I won't hesitate to run you out of this place with a tyre jack. I expect you all to be grateful for this opportunity at learning a trade. I'm a fair guy. I believe in second chances. But I don't believe in third or fourths, and as this is the second chance for each one of you, treat it wisely. I'm Burt Hummel."

I frowned as he said his name. He reached out to shake our hands. When he came to me last of all, I shook his timidly.

"What's your name son?"

It felt weird that he just called me son. He didn't do that with anyone else. I tried not to gasp as I looked into his eyes, I realised they were the mirror of Kurt's. This had to be his father. I gulped.

"Anderson."

I muttered , looking down at the floor.

He slapped me on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"We are on first name terms here. So Blaine it is."

I gaped at him, wondering why he bothered asking my name if he knew it anyway, but before I had time to ask, Kurt Hummel came strolling up, standing next to Burt.

I folded my arms and threw my head back, glaring at the ceiling.

"You have got be fucking kidding me."

"Is there a problem?"

I looked at Hummel now, his blue eyes were twinkling with amusement as he stared at me. I wanted to ask him why he was intent on winding me up. Why he seemed to get a kick out of acting like he cared. Why me? But I couldn't. Not with three other jailbirds stood next to me. Everyone was staring at us now and I shrugged my shoulders lazily.

"Just sick of seeing your face everywhere I go, that's all."

Kurt laughed. He didn't have normal reactions like other people. I mean, who laughed when they were being insulted? It was weird.

"Well I hope in time you will learn to tolerate my face. Because as you have probably gathered by now , you will be seeing me a lot. Our three media studies lessons a week combined with two days of mechanics. I'm sure you have figured out that Burt is my Dad and this is his garage. I begged him to let this course happen here and in return for the favour, I agreed I would help him out. So here I am. Oh, and then there is our weekly Tuesday meetings. So yes, it kind of sucks that you feel that way about my face because you sure will be seeing a lot of me."

I frowned again as he chucked some dark blue overalls at me, then chucked the other three their ones as well. Looking at his face now, I realised that I wasn't sick of seeing his face. Not at all. It was the opposite. And that was the reason I was on edge.

I blankly looked at the others as they all started to get changed and stepped into their overalls. I was the only guy who put mine on over my clothes. Burt and Kurt were staring at me like I was some sort of alien.

"What?"

I growled, feeling flushes of anger stirring in me as I was the centre of attention.

"Learning mechanics is hard. You will get hot and sweaty, are you sure you want to stay fully dressed underneath the overalls?"

I nodded my head once , then looked away. What business was it of theirs? They had no right to question my choices. There was no way I was ever getting changed in front of any of them.

"I don't care what you do to me any more Connor. I have been beat so many times in this shit hole that it doesn't matter. It doesn't hurt. Nothing does. You all succeeded . You chipped away at me until there was nothing left. I'm done. So beat me. I don't give a fuck."

My breathing was hard and fast as I looked into the eyes of the 6ft dreadlocked guy who had me pinned against the wall. I had been in prison for nearly two years now. Despite all my attempts to stay out of people's way, I still somehow always ended up the target for a good face kicking.

When I asked again and again why they were doing this to me, it was always the same answer. Because I had picked on the weak. Because I had killed Billy. I thought it was pretty hypocritical considering most of these were in here for similar, if not, worse crimes. And I also told them again and again that I hadn't meant to kill Billy, that I just meant to scare him with the photo frame. I mean, I know I hadn't done it at all, but in a way, I believed that Cooper hadn't committed murder either. He hadn't meant to. Billy died in hospital a while later, and it was mainly from the fall , not the blow. But if I ever tried to explain to these brutes that it was the fall that killed him, it made things worse.

I stopped counting after having my jaw dislocated sixteen times. Every single one of my fingers had been broken or rebroke at some point. Most of my toes from being stomped on. My ribs had been cracked no end of times and I couldn't even begin to guess at the black eyes. It was a stupid amount. And as I just said to the great hulking Connor, I didn't care any more.

I had been in this situation too many times to even care what was coming. It didn't matter.

Connor scowled at me, and rammed me into the wall as hard as he could.

"Who said anything about beating you? Do you know why I'm in here?"

I shrugged. I knew exactly why he was in here. He had killed both of his girlfriends when they found out about each other. The whole prison knew what everyone was in for, but I wasn't going to talk about it with him.

"I killed two people shitface. I'm in here for life. They were horrible little two faced bitches who just couldn't help digging deep. And I'm angry. Angry at the world for making me kill them."

I honestly tried not to, but I couldn't help the huge laugh that escaped my mouth at his words.

I clutched my stomach, it felt weird to laugh, even if it was the fake kind.

"You killed them. The world didn't make you. You did it."

He nodded, clearly agreeing with me. Prison really was full of crazy people.

"What exactly about that story do you find funny Anderson?"

I shrugged again, and stared defiantly into his eyes.

"All of it I guess."

It wasn't true. I really didn't find any of it remotely funny. Two girls were dead because of this man. It was tragic.

"I wonder if you will find it so funny when I kill you."

I gulped as I saw his face change into something else. It had danger written all over it. I breathed out in relief when he let me go, and I was just about to dash away when he grabbed hold of my arm.

I didn't know it was coming.

How could I?

I couldn't have ever imagined that I would be stabbed in prison. One pressing thought ran through my head. Where did he get the weapon? How~?

I stared at him in horror as a gurgling sound escaped my throat. I watched as he walked away, and I clutched my stomach, sinking down against the wall.

The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was indescribable. I had been through pain before. The pain of losing parents. The pain of being beaten. The pain of being a general loser. But this was... this was something else entirely.

I lifted my hands away from my stomach, bile rising in my throat as I saw the dark red blood that covered them. White hot pokers felt like they were ripping my body apart. I felt like I was being stabbed everywhere even though I knew I only had one stab wound.

I pressed my hand to my belly again, hoping to stem the flow.

"Help"

My voice was so weak, so feeble, that I wasn't even sure if I had spoken at all.

I gagged slightly as I tasted blood in my mouth.

Then I saw my Mom's face in my head and I closed my eyes. This was a good thing. I should thank Connor. My years of misery would end here. That thought made me so happy that I could have cried.

I let my hands fall to my sides, no longer wanting to stem the flow. I wanted to die. I laid down on the floor, and even though the pain was way worse this way, I stretched my limbs out, hoping to bleed to death faster. I wasn't sure how long I was on the floor for. It could have been two seconds, it could have been hours. I had no clue.

I felt calm as I saw a white light, just like they did in movies. The end was near and I was grateful. I started running towards it but it seemed to be getting further and further away.

It was only when I woke up, hooked up to all sorts of hospital machines in the prison ward, a huge white dressing covering my stab wound, that the real pain started.

This hell for me would never end.

Kurt took two of the convicts over to work on a car and Burt took me and the last guy. Each team were shown some various basics of a car and how to do certain things. By the end of the day, I was a hot mess. But I tried not to show it. I didn't want anyone knowing they had been right, that working in the overalls and my clothes would be too much.

I kept sneaking glances at Hummel, and to my disappointment, he didn't look at me once. I don't know why I felt disappointed. He was giving me exactly what I wanted, no attention.

So why, as I walked out of the garage that day after not having spoken to Kurt at all, did I feel empty?