Chapter 7! I'm really happy right now, though I only have one follower (thank you to that follower) I really love writing this story. That's probably why I update it so much more than Abandoned… anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter. What does everyone think of Blaine's father? He's great, isn't he… well, here it is. Chapter 7. Trigger warning for this chapter: talk of and doing self-harm (not too graphic) and talk of suicide. Well, I guess talk of suicide should be a warning in every chapter...

I finally hear my father's footsteps echo and the door slam. I sigh in relief and get off the floor. I run up to my room and look into the mirror.

"Shit." I mumble. My cheek is red and swelling and my head is throbbing. Normally I would run to Kurt. But Kurt's gone. I bite my lip to keep from crying yet again and try to remember the technique he taught me for hiding my bruises. I walk over to my dresser and take out the cremes and makeup Kurt gave me. He was an expert at hiding bruises from getting bullied for so long. He also had to hide his scars…

I try in vain to block out the memory, sighing.

Grabbing the make-up and blending it to match my skin tone, I experiment the way Kurt told me to. It covers the bruise nicely. Sitting in my room now forces me to think. I don't want to think.

I tried so hard. But in the end, Kurt landed up just like my sister. Dead. Why couldn't I save the best thing in my life?

I knew. I was the only one who knew and yet I didn't do a thing. I could have told someone, got him help. But no, I tried to do it all myself. How could I be so stupid?

I knew about Kurt's cutting.

I knew about everything that was going on with him.

And yet i did nothing.

I feel something I've never felt before. Self-loathing. And quite frankly, it scares the shit out of me. Suddenly something catches my eye. My swiss army knife that dad got me for my birthday last year. Ive never used it; I don't like violence. But something sparks inside of me today.

If it's good enough for Kurt and Lisa, it's good enough for me…

I pick up the knife. I wonder if I'll feel that feeling that Kurt used to talk about… that wonderful sensation… I put the knife to my skin and pull quickly across, gritting my teeth. Blood slowly seeps out of the gash.

I gasp. How can they do this to themselves? It just feels like… pain. It doesn't feel good; it feels like exactly what it is; hurting myself.

When I found out… I never even dreamed I'd ever do this to myself.


"We have to stop." Kurt said, as always, as soon as things got heated enough to start taking any of his layers of clothing off. And I am fine with this; I'm not going to pressure him. But sometimes it feels like he just doesn't trust me.

"Kurt, look... I'm not trying to pressure you, but... Why do we always stop? Are you just not comfortable or... Do you just not trust me?" Kurt sighs and runs his hands through his hair, which I have learned that it means he's stressed out.

"Of course I trust you." He says slowly. "But Blaine, I... I have something to admit. I've been... Lying to you." At my sharp intake of breath he says, "Well, not so much lying as keeping something important… Very important from you. Don't freak out, okay?" He slowly starts to lift his sleeve. There's not just one, though. He slowly peels through many layers until he gets to one last one. He looks incredibly nervous.

"It's okay." I coax. He pulls up the sleeve and I see a row of pink scars. They are lines, across his arm. I immediately know what they are.

"Blaine I... I hurt myself." He says, seemingly calm but I know him well enough to know he is just trying to deflect his feelings. "It's been a while. I've been doing better." I realize he is almost pleading with me.

"Oh Kurt..." His eyes are wide as saucers.

"I've never told anyone before. I've been doing it since I was thirteen. Please don't tell." His eyes are suddenly filled with tears. "Please, you can't tell. My dad..." He trails off.

"I won't tell, Kurt. But I really want to help you."

"You're not going to leave me?" He asks in a small voice. My heart breaks for the scared boy in front of me.

"If course not, sweetie. I love you. But please don't do this to yourself. Try for me?" He sniffles, looking up shyly and giving me a small, sad smile. I beckon him in for a hug and he complies.

"I love you too." He mumbles into my shoulder. I blink away my own tears as he cries into my shirt. I rub his back comfortingly, whispering a string of hopefully helpful nonsense. We stay like that until we find ourselves on the bed, and Kurt, clutching to my shirt like it's a lifeline, finally stops sobbing.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. "I know they're an eyesore. They're ugly and they're just a symbol of how much I hate myself."

"You shouldn't." I say fiercely. "You're amazing." Kurt blushes but I can tell he doesn't believe it. "No, really. You're incredible. You always put others before yourself, and you're so strong. You cried when you broke up with your girlfriend that you despise! You put up with Finn Hudson without saying a word to him about what a complete and total douchebag he is!" Kurt giggles and for that I am glad; I'll do anything to see him smile. "And they're not ugly. They're a part of you." I pull up his sleeve and kiss his cuts gently. Kurt bites his lip.

"I don't deserve you, you know." He mutters.

"I happen to think it's the other way around."


The memory fades and I clean up the cut, putting my knife back in place after it's free of blood. Realizing how late it is, I get into my pajamas and hop into bed. I slowly drift to sleep.