The scratch doesn't bleed. Neither does the second. They're supposed to bleed and they aren't and the panic is intensifying now. He needs this.
He scratches himself a third time. Suddenly, like they were waiting for each other, all three scratches bleed at once. Kurt feels like he should be relieved, that it finally worked, but there's more blood than he'd expected, too much blood.
This was a bad idea. There is no relief, just blood and stinging pain and God, this was stupid.
He places his hand over the wound, aiming to stop the bleeding and remove it from his sight.
He'd cut himself. This was cutting. He's a cutter.
How'd he let it get this far? He was okay! He was handling this!
He was not okay.
A knock on the door startles him, and the pain in his leg flares more than it has any right to.
"Kurt, are you okay in there?" It's Carole. She can't see Kurt like this. How does he keep ruining everything?
"I'm fine!" He catches another glimpse of the shiny needle in his hand, the blood smeared on his thigh, and it hits him that he can't do this. He can't handle this on his own. He's tried and really, really failed and he needs help.
"Wait," he prays Carole didn't leave, "I'm not okay."
Carole hasn't moved an inch, "Do you want to let me in, Honey?"
"I..." 'I have to.' Kurt stands, and again his leg seers in more pain than three scratches should bring, and he unlocks the door.
It takes all the strength he can muster to open the door, to let Carole see him almost naked and bleeding and having just done the stupidest thing of his life.
He prefaces the reveal with a desperate, "I'm sorry," to give Carole some sort of warning.
It doesn't work. She's shocked. She gasps his name and her eyes widen as if the thought of seeing him like this hadn't even crossed her mind. It probably hadn't. He'd worked hard to seem fine.
Mom-mode kicks in quickly. She grabs Kurt by the arm and pulls him from the bathroom so he can't lock himself away when he so obviously needs care. Then she shouts, "Burt, come down here!"
That's the moment everything becomes way too real. He's still sobbing and still feeling way too overwhelmed and now his dad, who cries too much for him, is going to see. He collapses to the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore. Carole goes down with him, hugging him to her as best she can as he covers his wound, trying to hide this from his dad as long as possible.
Burt races down to the basement, terrified. He sees Carole holding his sobbing, contorted boy and again, the fact that Kurt is alive means a hell of a lot.
Carole removes Kurt's hand from his thigh with little effort and Burt sees the three still-bleeding scratches. It takes a bit for them to register as an obvious sign of cutting.
"Oh, Kurt," he closes his eyes for a moment, then grabs the bedside phone and dials.
A gasp from the stairs announces Finn's arrival. He stares for just a second then runs back up to the main level.
Kurt didn't need Finn to see this. He doesn't need any of them seeing it, but he's brought it upon himself.
Carole kisses his forehead, brushes back his hair, rubs his back, offers every comforting touch at once to try and calm him, "Shh, it's going to be okay. We're going to help you."
Burt, phone pressed to his ear, sits across from Kurt, looking guilty.
Kurt feels they should be mad at him, but he can't bring himself to voice even another apology.
"Hello, Dr. Kymbal? My son cut himself," Burt gets right to the point. "No, it's just a few scratches. They've almost stopped bleeding... Not yet..." Burt continues the conversation, but Kurt stops listening.
Finn comes back, the family first aid kit in hand. He kneels before Kurt's feet and pulls at his ankle until Kurt lets him extend his injured leg.
Football has him well-trained for this, so he's able to be quick and clinical. He cleans the wound with Hydrogen Peroxide, and offers an apologetic smile at Kurt's pained hiss. He applies Neosporin as gently as he can and tapes down a large cotton bandage. He taps Kurt's other knee affectionately to let him know he's done.
Kurt looks up from his leg, and Finn offers him the same, goofy grin he always has, and suddenly he doesn't feel so overwhelmed anymore.
"Do you want sweat pants or PJ pants?"
Oh, yeah, he's almost naked. "Pajama."
Finn nods and retrieves a pair of Kurt's soft cotton pajama bottoms and his own T-shirt.
The shirt is way too big on him, but Kurt thinks this might be another one of Finn's ways of reaching out to him, so this has just become his favorite outfit.
"Okay, thank you, Doctor," Burt finishes up the phone call and turns to Kurt who is once again curled up against Carole. "Kurt, Dr. Kymbal has agreed to meet with you in her office in an hour."
Kurt just nods.
"Kurt... God, why?"
He doesn't really have an answer, but he does have a lot of guilt, "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I make you cry."
Burt closes his eyes and rubs his hand over his head. "Kurt, you've got to quit doing this. You've got to quit pushing us away. You've got to talk to us, even if it makes me cry. I know you've always done this, and when it was just typical bullying, I let it slide, figuring you were growing up and wanted to handle this sort of stuff on your own. But this? Kid, look what you did to yourself."
Kurt can't feel more ashamed than he does now.
His dad tugs at his shoulder, "Come on, we're leaving."
Kurt stands and his dad's hand stays on his shoulder, guiding him up the stairs, out the door, and to the car.
Carole takes him from there, pulling him into the back seat so she can hold him during the ride.
Finn takes shotgun, his eyes darting between his family members the whole time.
Burt puts all his efforts into watching the road. Breaking down, shouting, shaking Kurt until the shit messing him up is dislodged from his mind: not going to help. They'd just get in a wreck.
Dr. Kymbal meets them by the front door and leads them up to her office. The building is closed, but she has keys, so that doesn't seem to bother her. She seems perfectly fine meeting them in the evening.
Carole keeps her arm around Kurt's waist, holding him up, holding him together, keeping him from doing something stupid.
Dr. Kymbal grasps Kurt's hand, finally convincing Carole to release her hold, "Okay, Family, I'm going to talk with Kurt alone first. Please don't interrupt. I don't know how long it's going to take, but we're going to take as long as we need. Then, we're going to come back out here and talk. I don't know how long that's going to take, but we'll take as long as we need. Sit tight, get comfortable, order a pizza, and those are magazines." With that, she locks Kurt away with her in her office.
Kurt takes his regular seat on the couch, not looking forward to what she's going to have to say. The woman is blunt, and he'd been stupid.
Dr. Kymbal takes up one of the patients' chairs so there is no desk between them. Apparently that's emergency procedure. "So, Kurt, your dad tells me you cut yourself."
Kurt immediately feels he needs to defend himself, "They're just scratches. They probably won't even scar."
"Don't justify it. Justifying it makes it easier to do again, and you aren't doing that again."
Kurt bristles a bit and studies his knees.
"You can shut me out. You have that right, but I distinctly remember you saying you wanted to get better."
"Screwed that up."
"Oh, so we're done now? We're giving up?"
Kurt doesn't respond.
"Kurt, why did you open the bathroom door for Carole?"
'How does she know that?' He shrugs.
"Was this your first time cutting yourself?"
A nod.
"Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"I cut my leg!" Kurt jabs his hand at the raised area on his thigh where the bandage is fastened.
"Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"No! I didn't want to die! I don't want to die!"
"Why did you open the door for Carole?"
"Because I needed help! I couldn't handle it anymore..."
"So, let me help you."
He rolls his eyes, "Fine, just... don't judge me."
"What makes you think I'm judging you?"
"You're blunt. Blunt people are judgmental. I should know."
"I'm not judging you, Kurt. We've been through a lot together this week. I want you to get better as much as you do. I just need you to talk to me. Will you do that?"
Kurt sighs, ponders, and offers a tight nod.
"A nonverbal commitment to speaking. Bold move."
Kurt's laughter surprises him. He hadn't expected her to make jokes, to treat him as she had that morning, after he made such a stupid mistake. Why has no one yelled at him?
"Dp you love your family, Kurt?"
"Yes! This wasn't about-"
"I know it wasn't. Does your family love you?"
He answers easily, "Yes."
"Hold onto that. Tonight's going to be tough."
"Okay, I'm ready."
"Tell me why you cut yourself."
"So... I wouldn't feel...so," Kurt flaps his hand in the air, looking for the right word, and ends up with, "much."
"What do you mean?"
"I get... overwhelmed sometimes, and I feel like I have to... let it out, or something."
"How do you usually let it out?"
"Hitting things, screaming into pillows, crying..."
"Does your family know?"
"No, I don't want them to."
"Why not?"
"My dad witnessed one panic attack and I heard him crying about it to Carole. He shouldn't have to deal with this stuff. He already has to worry about enough."
"One might say you're the one who has to deal with too much."
"Yeah, but it happened to me! I'm the one who's supposed to deal with it!"
Dr. Kymbal notices something Kurt doesn't even realize he's showing, and it makes her decision for her, "Kurt, I think we need to talk about the assault."
Kurt looks stricken, unprepared.
"I know it's going to be hard, but once you tell me about it, I can help you get through it. It's ultimately what I'm here for."
Kurt covers his face with his hands for a moment, thinking. "My... my memory of it is... iffy. I forget details."
"That's normal."
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything you're willing to tell me."
"I... I don't know where to... start."
"Where were you?"
"Noah's room."
"What had you been doing?"
"Playing video games... and making out."
"And that's when he came in?"
"Yeah, he... he didn't know about us. He freaked out, called Noah a f-fag, and then he had a gun..." The first tear of many in the coming hours slides down Kurt's cheek. "He said no fag would live under his roof and he put the gun to my head and I thought I was gonna' die! And, Noah just kept screaming at him not to kill me, and when I felt the gun pull away, I was so sure he was gonna' shoot Noah, and I- and I just couldn't take that!"
"But, he didn't shoot Noah?"
"No, he fucked me in front of him instead. Noah was handcuffed to the desk and he told me he loved me before... While he did it, he kept talking about how we deserved it because that's what faggotry is. That's what I am, but that's not what Noah is! He's not gay! He didn't deserve to be punished for what I did to him!"
Dr. Kymbal could smack herself for not seeing this sooner. She knows exactly what to do.
The waiting room is quiet and tense. Magazines are strewn about the cold pizza box, which was emptied of its contents hours ago. Finn and Carole sit together, her cheek on his shoulder and his chin on her head. Burt sits alone in the quiet contemplation of a man in anguish.
Carole pulls away from her son, giving him a kiss on the forehead before sitting beside Burt.
She takes his hand in hers, "I think the fact that it's taking so long is a good sign."
"How could I let this happen, Carole?"
"Burt-"
"I knew something was off with him, but I didn't do anything about it."
"Something terrible happened to him, Burt. He was bound to be off."
"My son's a cutter. There were signs and I missed them."
"There were no scars, I checked. As far as I can tell, he did it once, scared himself, and came for help. After what he's been through... I think it's going to be okay."
Burt's smile is tight, but he nods and squeezes Carole's hand in gratitude.
The office door opens, and Dr. Kymbal leads Kurt into the waiting room. He looks nervous, but he's looked far worse than nervous lately, so nervous is decidedly okay.
He chews his bottom lip as he eyes his father.
Burt firmly plants his feet on the ground, making a strong lap, and waves his kid over, "Come here."
Kurt races to him, arms flying around his neck as he buries his face in his neck.
"Kurt has agreed to let me tell you what's going on, since you are so integral to his healing process," Dr. Kymbal announces. "Kurt has been bottling up his emotional responses to the assault, which makes them manifest in panic attacks. This is incredibly unhealthy, so the attacks have been getting worse. He's been handling them violently, but wasn't harming himself until tonight. Here's where you all come in. While punching pillows and screaming in private is a viable solution to your average panic attack, Kurt is extremely extraverted and gains strength trough human contact. It would be better for him if he had a hand to hold and a hug afterward. Also, talking. These are all in response to emotional issues and will improve with time so long as he talks, which he'll do because he's no longer hiding, right?"
Kurt nods into his father's shoulder, which isn't all that convincing considering the subject, until he speaks, "I'm sorry I shut you out. I didn't want you to hurt like I was hurting, but it just made everything worse. I know you just want to help, and I need your help."
Burt pats his son's back, "What are the odds he'll do it again?"
Kurt cringes but Burt has to know.
Dr. Kymbal responds, "In my professional opinion, he won't, but you're going to keep an extra eye on him anyway in the near future, and I completely support that."
When the family is sufficiently briefed, and the doctor is sufficiently thanked, everyone goes home.
Stepping inside the house, Kurt heads straight for his basement room.
"Uh-uh," his father calls after him, "I'm not letting you be alone for a second. You're sleeping with us tonight."
Kurt looks at the floor, "Can I brush my teeth?"
"I'll go with him," Finn offers. Burt nods, and Finn follows Kurt very closely down the stairs.
They stop upon reaching the bottom step. There is a trail of tiny blood droplets from the bathtub to the spot of the bedroom where Finn had patched Kurt up.
Finn recovers quickly, brushing past Kurt and digging through the bathroom drawers.
Kurt's just started worrying that he's looking for a secret stash of cutting supplies when Finn pulls out a sponge. He wets it in the sink and rubs at the nearest spot of Kurt's blood.
"Oh, God, Finn, I can do that!" Kurt moves to take the sponge.
Finn leaps to his feet and grabs Kurt into a hug, "Promise me you'll never do that again!"
The raw fear in Finn's voice instantly brings tears to Kurt's eyes. He nods.
Finn squeezes tighter, "Say it!"
"I promise. I promise I won't do it again."
Finn relaxes his hold a bit, "You're, like, my brother now. You're not allowed to do stuff like that."
"Okay."
Finn lets Kurt go and resumes scrubbing redness from the floor.
"Finn, please stop cleaning up my blood."
Burt leans against the door jamb, having come in response to the commotion, "Kurt, you ever think of doing something like this again, you remember this: you family is the one left cleaning up after you."
"I- really- I wasn't trying to kill myself!"
"Brush your teeth."
Kurt does, under the watchful eye of his father as Finn continues wiping his blood from the floor. When he's done, Burt guides him by the shoulder up to the master bedroom.
Carole is already in bed, her face warm and welcoming as Kurt slides in next to her. Burt lies on his other side, switching off the light.
"This isn't punishment, Kurt. I'm doing this because I love you."
"I know, Dad. I love you, too."
Burt pulls his son's head to his chest and strokes the soft hair until he feels his son relax into sleep.
