I figured I would wait until season 3 started before I updated again, because I've been busy with college preparation and it felt like a good way to celebrate and unwind a bit. Besides, season 3 feels like it's going to be really good! Let's see if I can finish this before they develop the plot any further and ruin all the canons I'm working with.

Thanks for being so patient with me! By the way, am I the only one that thinks Chris Colfer got even more beautiful during the break?

-x-x-x-

Please hold.

"... It'll be okay though, right? It's just school. I can handle school."

Kurt stared out the car door window through hundreds of droplets of rain, trying to pick out a familiar face on the front steps of McKinley. The students ducking in out of the shower were all covering their faces with jackets and umbrellas, and for a moment, he felt that maybe they were at the wrong school. How was it that he couldn't recognize anyone?

"You'll be fine, Kurt. You've got Finn there with you and the whole Glee club," Burt replied confidently, lifting his work-hardened hand from the steering wheel and placing it on his son's knee. Kurt was silent for a moment, chewing gently on his lower lip, before he nodded.

"Right. Yeah, I know."

"Listen, you call me if anything happens. Hell, even if nothin' happens and you just wanna come home. We'll take this slow, alright?"

Somehow, Kurt wrapped his thin fingers around the handle of the door and held it a moment, dropping his eyes to his lap. With a quick breath, he turned his head around toward his father as he pushed his way out of the truck. "Thanks, dad."

"One thing at a time," Burt reminded him just before the teen pushed the door shut, hunching to open his umbrella against the rain. He turned, moving slowly across the puddled sidewalk toward the school, all the while listening to the sound of the truck engine behind him. Even as it faded, melting into the drumming of the rain, Kurt knew his father was still sitting there, watching him. He knew it as he walked past the dumpsters, down the front walk, and up the steps. Other students bustled in around him, too rushed to notice his presence, too focused on their greetings and gossip. Kurt could feel his father's eyes on his back, but he refused to turn and look until he was holding the front door open. Only then did he chance a look over his shoulder, spotting the truck sitting where he had left it.

After a pause, he lifted his arm up and waved, watching the familiar vehicle pull away from the curb and vanish into the rain. Kurt lowered his arm slowly before shaking himself out of his daze, turning and sliding into the foyer.

Umbrella closed, hood down, hideous raincoat off. Standing to the side, he carefully wrapped up the umbrella and folded his coat, tucking everything together neatly under his arms before twisting to face the crowd of soaked students.

He was startled to find, however, that people had already noticed him. Their conversations seemed to mute themselves as they walked passed, their eyes flicking over their shoulders at him. Is that him? He's back? Wow, I thought he was still in the hospital. I heard they broke both his legs.

For the smallest of seconds, he thought he would dart back outside and chase his father down. Hell, he'd be up for walking home. But, all too quickly, a sense of stubborn resiliency flashed through him, and he straightening his posture as best as his sore torso would allow.

As he had done for so long, he prepared for whatever bullying might come his way: chin up, chest out, (though his ribs were still too sore to really achieve it,) face straight. You will grow up and get out of this town and find more happiness than they'll ever know.

Once he was sure his face wouldn't falter, he started down the hallway toward the choir room.

-x-x-x-

Finn let the crowd lead him into the cafeteria. While his feet stepped blindly along with the herd of other students, his eyes scanned to the left and right for a familiar head of well-maintained hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Kurt wouldn't be eating in the cafeteria today, but he didn't see him bring his own lunch. He was thinking about getting double portions and bringing them to the choir room for his step brother when something swung into his good arm.

"Hey, I heard you're going to be staying with Berry."

Puck parted the crowd like an angry bull, mindlessly shoving people out of their way. Finn hugged his sore arm close and tried not to pay attention to it.

"Yeah, well, they have this top-notch security system or something, so, we'd be safer there."

Puck nodded absently, seeming not to have been listening. "Right, cool. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get some, man. I mean, think about it: you in one room, her right down the hall. Maybe you'll even have to share a room with her."

Finn wrinkled his nose. "That's actually the farthest thing from my mind. Besides, my mom and Burt are going to be there."

"So? Sneaking around makes it even better."

The crowd around them suddenly dispersed as students spread out to their respective tables. Finn stepped away from Puck, hoping he'd get the message and leave, but the mohawked delinquent kept right up along side him.

"At least score a brother some panties."

"Dude, shut up."

Puck laughed, lifting a few fingers off of his backpack straps to concede defeat. Finn pulled a faded red tray out of the stack at the start of the line and slid it down the counter, pulling off two servings of everything.

"You're eating your feelings now?" Puck asked, snagging a bottle of milk and some chicken.

"I'm getting something for Kurt to eat. I doubt he's in here."

Puck set his jaw, and for a moment, Finn thought he saw actual concern. Just a moment, though.

"I heard he's been in the girl's locker room between every class. Brit and 'Cedes won't let him out of their sights."

Finn stopped at the end of the counter and looked down at the tray, suddenly realizing that he would have a hard time lifting it with his arm in a sling. Puck sighed, setting his own food down on top of Finn's lunch and lifting the tray with one hand.

"Seriously, how much longer do you have to have that thing on?"

"Til' the end of the week."

"Sucks, bro... Hey, does Kurt have, like, a blue jacket on today?"

Finn looked up as the cashier handed him his change. "Yeah, why?"

"Because there's Kurt, and there's Azimio."

-x-x-x-

Kurt had adapted to the school lunch schedule years ago. He only started to get hungry right before lunch began, and the rest of the day went without the smallest intestinal growl. But today, be it because of the stress or the sudden return to said schedule, Kurt found himself hungry after only his second class.

Brittany had offered him an aged granola bar during morning break as they sat on the benches in the girl's locker room, but it hadn't been enough. By the time lunch rolled around, Kurt was facing a dilemma: go to the cafeteria and risk public exposure, or stay put and chew on a bar of soap. And Dial would probably only make things worse.

With some work, he got the sleeve of his blue Marc Jacobs jacket over the cast on his forearm. Taking a few careful breaths, he slid his sunglasses on over his tired eyes and stepped out into the hallway with Mercedes by his side, bracing for whatever might come his way. Gossip or not, Kurt Hummel needed a salad.

Not but four steps into the cafeteria, he was already weighing the pros and cons of eating the soap. The walk down the hallway hadn't been that terrible, only a few straying glances and an awkward nod in his direction. But the table nearest the door to the cafeteria grew silent when Mercedes pulled him into the large room. Again, Kurt reached an impasse: the smell of food drew him toward the lunch line, the stares of football jocks pushed him back to the door. If Mercedes wasn't keeping him rooted to the spot, he would be floundering.

"Hey Fancy, how was the vacation?"

He didn't even need to look at who was talking to decide that a soap diet might help his complexion. He gave his arm a gentle tug, hoping that Mercedes would turn, tip her chin up, and flick her hair over her shoulder on the way out, but she remained still. Kurt slouched a bit, suddenly too tired to deal with the same old song and dance, even with Azimio towering over him.

"Wow, you couldn't even wait a day before jumping back onto the Douche Express?" Mercedes planted her free hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes.

"Well excuse me, I wasn't aware you hired a bull dog to guard you, gaywad."

Mercedes dropped her jaw and stepped forward threateningly, her hand slipping out from around Kurt's elbow.

"You wanna say that again to my face, you sorry fat son of a-"

"Kurt, is there a problem here?" Finn's voice sliced into the tension like a cleaver. Mercedes turned around, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and stepped back with victory on her face. It was clear by Azimio's sudden reserved look that he wasn't going to continue.

"We're fine, Finn," Kurt said absently, trying to find his voice in all this. For the first time since freshman year, he didn't feel strong enough to defend himself.

"You want I should have words with him?" Puck asked, stepping between Finn and Azimio, sizing up the challenge before him.

"To hell with you guys," Azimio spat, waving a hand at them. "I'm tired of hearing about what happened. It ain't a hate crime if the guy is justified."

"The hell did you just say?" Mercedes snapped, stepping forward dangerously. But Azimio had waved them off and turned away, vanishing back into the crowd toward the football table. The four New Directions members stood in silence for a moment before Kurt felt a presence beside him and looked down.

"You can eat lunch with me in the biology lab if you want, Kurt," Artie said, offering a smile up at him as Kurt felt the urge to cry sting at his nose. He nodded and took a deep breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Mercedes sighed and put on a smile, wrapping her arm around Kurt's lower back to lead him out of the room. Before they left, Kurt's eyes landed on the tray Puck was carrying.

"Please tell me you're willing to share."

-x-x-x-

Oh Azimio, you butthead, lay off.

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