Warning: implications of self-harm.

IX. Cut

"Hey."

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

Sam blinked at the defensive tone to Blaine's voice. "It just sounds like there's something wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. Well, I do miss you if that counts."

"I miss you too. I'm flying home tonight though, I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever—no, never mind."

"Blaine, what is it?" A feeling of fear was creeping into Sam's chest now. "You can ask me, whatever it is."

He heard a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Have you ever just had enough of everything and then you did something you thought would help but then it just made you feel worse…so you wanted to do it again?"

"Blaine, what are you talking about? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not sure, no." His voice had dropped to a strangled near-whisper. Sam knew the sound well, as everyone who has a smaller sibling does: it was the choked sound someone made when he was about to cry.

"What do you need me to do? It's impossible for me to come home sooner, but I can steal Mitch's computer, we can video chat if you want. Just—what do you need me to do?"

"It's okay," Blaine mumbled. "No, don't worry, I'm okay. Just keep talking to me."

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

"Got locked in the janitor's closet again, didn't get out until almost five. Nothing new, but today I just…" He blew air from his lips in exasperation. "It was just bad, today."

"Oh, Blaine." Sam closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "You know you don't deserve that, right? You've never deserved it."

"Then why do they do it?"

"Because they're scared of you."

A scoff. "Why would they be scared of me? I'm nothing to them. I'm just the gay kid to all of them."

"And that's exactly why they're terrified. You're not afraid to be who you are. They piss themselves if it's even hinted that they're different."

"Maybe it's better to be normal."

"Blaine, stop talking. You're amazing the way you are, and I know I sound like a broken record filled with clichés, but it's true and I'm not afraid to say it. And you can't be either."

"Sammy…I don't—"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Sam interrupted, lips moving without conscious thought. Blaine had told him to keep talking, and he wasn't about to stop and let his best friend lapse into hysterics. "And I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"No, it has to wait until we're together. I can't do it over the phone. So you have to hold on until I get there, okay? No doing anything…drastic."

Blaine sniffed a small laugh. "You don't have to worry, believe me. I'm alright now."

"Good."

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

A pause. "Thank you."

Sam smiled against his cell phone, letting out a slow breath and hoping Blaine could hear it through the connection. And back home in Ohio, Blaine gingerly placed the knife back down on his desk as if it were an explosive and returned the grin, thankful to finally have someone who would listen.