Hey everyone ^.^ I haven't written for ages D: Sorry.

Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy ^.^

This one os dedicated to Junjou Angel and JasonDragon64 for your awesomeness ^.^

Here you go guys :D

The song is Angel, by Sarah McLachlan, it's a beautiful song so look it up ^.^ I don't own it or Glee.

Enjoy

Going home the next day was an awkward affair. There wasn't enough room in the truck for all of them, so Burt called Carole who came to pick up Finn and Puck and drop them off at school while Burt drove Kurt home. Kurt asked to be taken to school with the others but he didn't push the point when Burt insisted he needed to rest. He didn't really want to go to school. But he didn't want to be alone with his dad either. He was still confused about everything. He knew that his dad cared. He knew that … didn't he? He had never before had cause to doubt him, so why did he now? And Puck!Don't even get Kurt started on Puck. He had no idea what the Mohawked teen was thinking and was trying to ignore the squirming in his stomach when he thought about last night by not thinking about it. But he was glad that Puck seemed to understand … at least a little. And he couldn't help but smile at the irony

'What's funny?' Burt asked lightly, glancing over at Kurt and seeing a small smirk on his lips. He kept a jovial tone, in an attempt to break the tension almost visibly oozing from his son; his posture was rigid and his eyes were fixed straight ahead. As soon as he spoke, the smile was gone and the tension increased tenfold.

'Nothing' Kurt said quickly. Burt sighed

'Look Kurt' he said gently 'When we get home, I'd like to talk to you before you disappear to your room if that's ok?'

'Sure dad' he was obviously reluctant. But at least he had agreed.

When they got there, Kurt lingered uncertainly by the kitchen door. He looked like he was in a strange house, not in the home he had been raised in.

'Sit down Kurt' Burt pulled out a chair and Kurt perched gingerly on the seat opposite.

'Look Kurt.' He began, getting straight to the point 'I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.' He paused, gauging his sons reaction to the apology, Kurt just looked at him warily, head slightly cocked to the side. 'I am so sorry for what I said that I can't even tell you how much …' he trailed off slightly, overcome with guilt 'I should never have said those things to you. I was angry and I was wrong. And I need you to know that …' he took a deep breath, putting his heart on the line 'you are everything to me Kurt. You mean more to me than anyone. And your mom would be so ashamed of me for forgetting that for a single second.' He choked back the ball of emotion in his throat 'I love you Kurt. You are my son and I love you so damn much! I love you for being you, and for not letting anyone else affect that. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I did, and it's my fault you were at the school when you were and when they were' his expression darkened 'And I'm just so sorry. What I did was unforgivable, and I know it won't be easy but I hope that one day, you could trust me again.' Burt stopped, biting his lip as he looked at his son, a purple bruise on his left cheek and dark circles under his piercing eyes. His clothes seemed to hang off his thin frame, his jeans not as tight as they once were. When had Kurt stopped eating? He'd barely noticed. He'd been so concerned with the pain in his son's eyes that he hadn't looked at the rest of him. Burt bowed his head I am a terrible father he thought.

Kurt inclined his head once

'I'm sorry too' he said, then he stood and left before his father could see him cry.

XXX

Carole and Finn came in a few minutes later to find Burt still at the kitchen table, fingers interlocked under his chin, eyes bright with unshed tears. Finn fumbled awkwardly and almost ran to the bathroom. Carole sat down opposite her husband and waited for him to speak first.

'I've lost him Carole' Burt began hoarsely. A tear escaped and he sounded so dejected that Carole had to fight the urge to hug him; he needed to talk first 'You should have seen the way he came in here. It was like he was a stranger, and he didn't speak! He just shut me out. I can't bear that I've hurt him so badly' he buried his face in his hands and began to sob. 'What kind of a father am I?' Carole looked at him pityingly. It was time to step in; she got up and placed her hand on Burt's shoulder

'One who has made mistakes' she said diplomatically 'I'm not going to stand here and tell you that everything will be ok and that you aren't to blame because I'm not going to lie to you. You did a stupid thing Burt. You know how fragile Kurt is and you hit him in his weakest spot. You know how he feels that his sexuality distances him from you. And the other day you made that gap wider.' She paused, letting it sink in 'Kurt is a wonderful boy, and a beautiful person and he idolised you. He loves you Burt, just as much as you love him. But you need to make it up to him big time because you screwed up and he doesn't deserve that. After everything he's been through.' Burt looked up at his wife as if through a wall of mist. She was right. He was in the wrong and he had to do something to make it right again.

'You might have lost him Burt' she continued despite Burt's flinch 'but don't you dare give up on him.' With that she left him alone to think.

Kurt sat despondently at his vanity listening to the end of Carole's outburst. His face was in his hands. His father still loved him. He knew that. So he could forgive him just like that right? No. Even though he wanted to he could no longer view his father in the same way he always had. Burt had hurt him where he felt it most. Not even the vicious beating afterwards had been worse than his fathers' angry words. He had deserved the pain … right? It had made him feel a bit better. Hadn't it? Experimentally, Kurt found a bruise on his arm and pressed it. It hurt, but it was distracting. It stopped him thinking. He pressed a little more and smiled grimly. Life is too complicated he thought might as well distract myself from it as best I can.

He just wanted the simplicity back; he wanted to be able to love his father again, he wanted to feel that his father loved him. He wanted Finn to be his brother and he wanted Carole to be his step mum, and he wanted to be a family.

But only Puck seemed to understand that.

He wanted Noah too.

XXX

Puck lay in bed, thinking of Kurt. He could see how fragile the boy was, and he felt uncomfortable not being there. When Carole had dropped him off, she had gently told him that he'd be welcome if he wanted to come over, but that Burt and Kurt needed a talk first. They would have had that talk by now, right? He decided to send a text. But then he remembered that he didn't have Kurt's number, why would he? They had barely spoken before all of this. So he text Finn instead

How's Kurt?

It took ten minutes for the quarterback to reply, by which time Puck was pacing

Dunno dude, he's in his room. Burt was crying b4. Puck rolled his eyes

Go check on him. It was another ten minutes.

He told me to go away, he's in the bathroom.

'Shit' said Puck, grabbing his jacket. He couldn't rely on Finn to help Kurt. 'If you want something done…'

XXX

'Go away Finn!' Kurt yelled from the bathroom. He was kneeling on the cold tiles, staring at the silver object in his hand. The razor blade glistened prettily in the stark light. He moved it around his palm, as though examining it from every angle. He had established that pain was good; he pressed on his bruise again to make sure, yes. So this would be good too. But won't this just make me another self harmer?

'Good' he answered himself quietly I don't want to be original any more.

He dragged the razor blade gently across his skin and shivered. He hadn't applied any pressure so blood wasn't drawn. Should he?

Maybe.

'Spend all your time waiting

For that second chance

For a break that would make it okay'

He sang softly. He just wanted to feel okay again. He wanted … he wanted too much. He bowed his head and continued

'There's always some reason

To feel not good enough

And it's hard at the end of the day'

He wished he could be good enough again, good enough for his father and for Noah and for everyone. He placed the blade flat on his wrist

'I need some distraction

Oh beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins'

God he needed this. He wanted this . . . didn't he? He was so confused. He raked a hand through his hair; was it too late? Could he do this?

'Let me be empty

Oh and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight'

If he could just empty himself enough so he would sleep … he might have nice dreams. Kurt liked dreams, especially ones that stayed all night. The only problem was waking up. If he did then he would forget his dream, but if he didn't … then his family would be sad. Kurt didn't want them to be sad. He'd made his dad cry already. Kurt felt like he was six years old again and his daddy was crying. Kurt didn't understand. He'd never seen daddy cry before, mommy usually made him happy, he was hugging her, why wasn't he happy? Had Kurt made him sad? He hadn't meant to… Kurt shook himself get out of that place!

'In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here'

What if he slept and he didn't dream? What if he made everyone sad and he wasn't happy either? But Kurt didn't deserve to be happy … right?

From this dark, cold bathroom

And the endlessness that you fear.'

Kurt ignored the knocking on the door, concentrating on the way the blade looked on his pale skin. Red would go perfectly, with the silver and white, maybe he could just … There. Beautiful.

'You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here'

He wished he had someone that would hold him like the person in the song. Despite his pain and inner turmoil and confusion, Kurt wanted to be saved.

'So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There's vultures and thieves at your back'

Kurt picked up the blade, still ignoring the pounding at the door. There was shouting now, but he couldn't make it out. He was lost in the glittering beauty and the pureness of the song

'The storm keeps on twisting

Keep on building the lies

That you make up for all that you lack'

He brought the silver to his wrist again, point down, and he began to stroke it across his skin; it almost tickled. He didn't want to lie anymore. He pressed it a little harder. Maybe in emptying himself, he would become whole again.

'It don't make no difference

Escaping one last time'

Puck would be so disappointed in him. Kurt screwed his eyes shut for a second. Then he blinked back his tears. He'd shed too many already.

'It's easier to believe

In this sweet madness

Oh glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees'

Would he rather be numb? Or would he rather hurt? Maybe neither would be a good thing … maybe they both would. Could one bring on another? The shouting was getting louder now. Kurt couldn't concentrate.

'In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark, cold bathroom

And the endlessness that you fear'

The door was beginning to give Kurt a headache. He glanced towards it, coming out of his trance, his wide eyes on the door. Someone was out there. Someone was trying to get in. If they found him like this … He looked back to the silver blade.

'You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here'

Kurt stood. Letting the blade fall to the flood with a clatter, he pulled his sleeves down hurriedly and faced the door, backing into the sink; the door was being rammed into now

'Kurt, answer me!' It was Noah! Kurt hadn't expected that. The blade! He bent to scoop it up. But what to do with it? So he sang the last of the song, at least he'd have finished something.

'You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here'

The door burst open. Surprisingly quietly, it seems that Noah hadn't broken the door. Just the lock. But Kurt flinched anyway as Puck barrelled into the room, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him,

'Why didn't you answer me? Are you alright? What happened? Why are you in here? Kurt!'

He was so pale. Noah thought, almost as if all his blood had gone … He was just standing there, huge eyes glassy, as if he didn't comprehend what was happening. Then Puck saw the glint in Kurt's limp hand, and lost control

'Kurt!' he yelled, ignoring the way he tried to cower away from him, 'Show me, Now!' he grabbed his arm and yanked the sleeve up. Nothing, he took the other, only a faint red mark. No blood. Noah breathed again and enveloped the boy in his arms.

'I thought … I thought you'd …' he couldn't finish. He could only feel Kurt come apart into his chest. He began to shake.

'Shhhhh' said Noah gently, stroking his hair, they both sank to the floor of the bathroom, where Kurt had been before 'It's okay Kurt. It's okay, you're going to be okay'

I hope.

Puck refused to let his own tears of relief fall. He forced them back and concentrated on the sobbing, broken boy in his arms. He held him tighter, telling himself what he was telling Kurt

'You're okay'

So what do you think? Do you like it? Junjou Angel, my awesome beta seemed to :P Do you?

Any questions or wishes or anything?

If so let me know ^.^

Love you all

Tibbins xxxx (Extra x's as an apology for my tardiness :( )