Disclaimer: Still don't own it….

Kurt strode toward the hospital doors, pausing momentarily to wave 'goodbye' to Blaine. The male diva turned back toward his goal, squaring his shoulders as he went. With each step, fear and bile rose up in the back of his throat. He gulped nervously as he stood outside of the room where Finn was being held. Subconsciously, he reached a hand up, his fingers ghosting over the uncovered bruise beneath his eye.

"Courage," he whispered to himself, his fingers clenching around the door handle, turning his knuckles snow white. He jerked the handle down and pushed the door open to reveal Burt and Carole sitting beside Finn, whose arms were wound in gauze bandaging. "Hey," Kurt greeted as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey, kid…" Burt trailed off as he looked up and saw the bruises marring his child's face. His eyes narrowed as he started speaking again. "Son, who did that to you?"

"Did wha-?" Carole looked up, gasping in horror. Finn kept his gaze averted, looking down at his mummified arms instead.

"That's what I came to talk about," Kurt answered, standing next to his father, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Dad, you have to promise not to go flip when I explain."

"Kurt, you know damn well I can't promise that. Whoever did this has hell to pay." Burt answered, the threat laced with the anger that always visited when somebody hurt his baby boy.

Kurt hesitated slightly. "Do you remember last night when I said that Finn and I had a disagreement?" Burt and Carole, who had obviously been told by her husband, nodded. "Well, yesterday when I got back from Dalton, I was reading Vogue when he walked in. He asked what I was so cheerful about and before I could answer, he knocked my magazine out of my hands and started yelling, then punched me." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for his father's reaction. "He called me a 'fag'."

Before Carole or Kurt could react, Finn was pinned flat on his back on the bed, held down by Burt's hand around his throat. Frankenteen's eyes widened as his arms pathetically attempted to claw his stepfather's hand away. "We've been through this before," Burt growled, glaring at Finn with a mixture of infuriation and disappointment. "If you expect to stay in my house, you won't lash out and attack my son for his sexuality. I thought we had that clear the first time."

"Dad, calm down," Kurt murmured, pulling his dad back with Carole's hand. "You don't need to get excited over this; it'll just cause your blood pressure to go up."

"Kurt's right, dear," Carole supplied. "We need to talk this out calmly, not jump down each other's throats." She turned her gaze from her husband to her son. "However, Finn, I am upset that would say and do those things to Kurt again. Why did you do it?"

Finn gritted his teeth, glaring at his stepbrother. "'Cause his life is perfect and amazing and he doesn't have to deal with any of the shit that I go through! Both girls I've ever been with cheated on me with my best friend and what's happened to him? He's off at his safe, private school with an endless supply of guys to ogle, probably singing Clay Aiken, Adam Lambert, and Ricky Martin." Finn stared at his mother and stepdad. "He's gay. Life shouldn't be that easy for him!"

Kurt's arms found themselves wrapped around his waist as he bit his lower lip, hoping the pain would keep his tears at bay. "Yeah, Finn," Kurt choked out before Burt could say anything else. "My life's been really easy. I've been thrown in dumpsters, slushied, and been issued death threats. My life's really such a walk in the park." He couldn't help the snarky comment that fell from his lips and tears fell from his eyes.

Finn stared at the other teen incredulously. "You don't get it, do you?" he demanded, a sneer playing at his mouth. "All that comes with what you are. You're gay, Kurt." The emphasis he put on 'gay' made Kurt want to crawl into his sock drawer and sleep for days with the hope that he would never wake up. "Life isn't supposed to go your way."

"That's enough," Carole snapped, awestruck and angered by her son's outburst. "Burt, I think these two need space, don't you agree?"

Kurt didn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He slid it out, his eyes scanning the text message from Blaine. He felt his mouth tighten into a thin line as he finished, looking back up at his dad.

"Would that be alright with you?" Burt asked worriedly, taking in the look on his son's face with apprehension.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket.

"Would you mind staying with Blaine for the next week or so? Then the week after that, we'll send Finn to his grandparents' for the week so you can come home."

"No," Kurt answered. "I wouldn't mind." He glanced down at his watch. 12:23. "Blaine's here to get me, so I'd better head out." He hugged Burt and Carole goodbye, promising to call them every night. He rushed out of the hospital straight to his boyfriend's car, where he was greeted by an innocent hug and a not so chaste kiss.

"How'd it go?" Blaine asked when they parted.

"Well, Dad almost killed Finn, Finn made me want to go eat a body-pillow sized Hershey's Bar, and Carole decided that Finn and I need space," Kurt summed up, leaning back into his seat and sighing. "Do you mind if I spend next week with you?"

"No, I don't," Blaine answered, taking Kurt's hand and squeezing it softly. "I would actually really enjoy it."

Kurt smiled slightly. "So what happened with you?"

The curly haired teens smile withered away. His mumbled response of "I'll tell you later, mkay?' as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot was barely audible, leaving Kurt to wonder what had happened.

A/N: Just a little note: I have nothing against the artists Finn mentioned. Nor do I agree with the statements Finn expressed.

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