The evening after the fight in Gym had taken place was a subdued one in Dormitory Thirteen. Though this was in part due to the absence of two of its inhabitants - Wes and Joseph - it was mainly because of the reason why the latter absentee was not there. Joseph had taken a major beating at the hands of Kurt and after having been half escorted/half dragged to the hospital wing at Dalton, he had not been seen by anybody. And so the general atmosphere in the dorm was very sombre that evening; even Karofsky had laid off somewhat; instructing the boys in a low voice to get changed and go straight to bed, only snapping once at Blaine who apparently did not comply with his orders fast enough for Karofsky's liking. Even when Karofsky shut the lights out and slammed the door behind him, leaving the dormitory in a pit of darkness, the usual murmuring and whispers between the boys did not occur.

Kurt felt sickened with the whole events that had taken place and was in a severe state of confusion. Adrenalin was still coursing through his veins and his heart had not stopped drumming against his rib cage savagely since the fight had ended, but even so, he felt completely wiped out and empty, as though he was detached from his body and emotions. All he kept seeing every time he closed his eyes was Banks nodding his approval at him with that twisted smirk on his face, as though Kurt had made him proud. He supposed he had done, though of course kicking the shit out of Joseph had not been for Banks' benefit. It was simply a fight or flight situation: If he hadn't have beaten Joseph then Joseph would have beaten him.

He didn't remember falling to sleep, but he must have done, because he awoke suddenly with a start - sweat-soaked bed sheets twisted in his pyjama bottoms, an obvious sign that he had been tossing and turning through his nightmare. It was a bit hazy, but the fact that Banks' smirking face was imprinted in the forefront of his mind indicated that he had been involved in it somehow. The moon shining through a small window showed that morning was not yet upon them, but Kurt knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for a while. He winced as he sat up in bed; his head was pounding like crazy after the kicks Joseph had delivered to it and for one horrible moment he thought he was going to be sick right there and then. He untangled his legs from his bed sheets and then padded as quietly as he could over to the small wooden door at the back of the dormitory that led to the bathroom. He pushed it open slowly, gritting his teeth at the usual loud creaking noise it made that always sounded so loud in the dead still of the night, before letting it shut behind him.

He fumbled for the cord in the darkness, before finding and pulling down on it. At once, the bathroom was flooded with an obscene fluorescent light that had him blinking his eyes rapidly for a few moments at the harsh change of scenery, before he finally got used to it. He didn't need to go to the toilet, nor did he want a drink of water (the water provided to the Dalton dormitory bathrooms was not exactly sanitary) but he just needed to get away from the others for a while. Though the dorm had been completely silent with the sound of evident sleep, the silence just seemed so loud that it caused Kurt's ears to ring. His thoughts were buzzing around his head constantly and so he turned the cold water tap as a distraction and washed his hands for what seemed like the hundredth time since the fight between him and Joseph. It didn't make a difference though. His hands still felt unclean and grimy with blood.

Kurt hated blood. It reminded him of the day his mother died and how it was all his fault and the reason why he had been sent to Dalton. He felt hot tears begin to well up in his eyes and he blinked them away angrily. Dalton was enough of a head fuck at the best of times but even worse was when severe depression was introduced to the mix. And the worst thing was that the energies at Dalton seemed contagious: one boy moping around almost always set off a chain reaction so by the end of the day, the entire dormitory felt lost and defeated.

But alone, Kurt didn't have to worry about dragging his dorm-mates moods down with his own and fully allowed himself to wallow in his own sadness and self-pity. Though his own recollection of the events leading up to the death were not accurate (and a small part of him actually knew this) he constantly tortured himself with his own version of what happened. For instance: He often thought back to the final conversation he had ever had with his mother when he shouted angrily at her for reading his diary, even though he had sort of wanted her to discover it in the hope that the bullying at school would stop. This was not the case at all, as that had taken place a month or so before her death, but being able to punish himself further by imagining the way the twisted tale played out was the truth served his masochistic need.

That final conversation when he had shouted at her always played in his mind. The crestfallen look on her face. The way Kurt was sure that he would never speak a single word to her again. The way he ignored her the next morning only to see her face that fateful afternoon as he tried to escape... Kurt was sure that he had gotten the final events correct as he remembered them so vividly and the colours in his memory were so bright.

He was walking to the gates that lay at the front of McKinley to go home when he spotted three figures ahead, lingering by the exit, obviously waiting for someone. Him.

The three guys weren't anyone special. They were just three bullies who hated him and who would have certainly been replaced by another three had they happened to not have a problem with him. But it seemed at least someone always had a problem with him. And in their case, it was the fact that he was gay, that he was a fag, that he looked and sounded like a girl, probably was a girl, a flamer, a queer, cocksucker, sissy, homo and any and every other offensive name they could come up with using their combined IQ's that couldn't have scraped much higher than twenty-five. These three had been bothering him for a while now, probably because the main instigators before them had since graduated and had somewhat matured (one of his previous tormentors had actually muttered an apology to Kurt about six months ago) and took great delight in making his life a living hell.

Kurt swallowed hard. Because he knew they would get him. He could tell that much from where he was standing even though the three bulky figures standing with their arms crossed and their faces twisted into menacing smirks were all the way by the school gates. He could run for it, but it wouldn't do any good. They were faster than he was, but if he played his cards right, he could have run back into school and weaved and dodged down various corridors before finding a safe shelter for a while. Ultimately though, it wouldn't have mattered. They'd just make him pay doubly the next time.

He tightened the grip on his satchel that was hanging from his shoulder and had taken a deep breath. He would not be beaten, he would not be destroyed. He slowly continued on his path, the three bullies looming ever closer. They were watching him intensely and he felt like prey willingly approaching a mighty predator. They made no attempt to move and so it was he who was actually putting himself in danger by encroaching into their 'territory'. After all, should anyone have asked; they hadn't approached Hummel. Hummel had approached them.

He started to get hot and prayed that he didn't start visibly sweating. Although Winter was finally beginning to disappear for another year, it was still quite cold on that day when Kurt had dressed for school in the outfit that he had planned the previous night. He thought it rather modest, personally. A grey three-quarter length military jacket with diagonal buttons and intricate seam detailing on the breast pockets, teamed with some dark skinny jeans and oversized boots. Not exactly fitting in with what the other guys at school wore, but it wasn't one of his more feminine or outrageous looks. Toning it down, however, didn't help matters at all. If joining the football team and scoring the final goal that led them to victory didn't get them off his back, then changing his fashion style ever so slightly certainly wouldn't.

He got ever closer and he could start to feel them shifting from foot to foot restlessly now. Agitated? Or excited perhaps. He was sure that they could sense the fear emitting from his body in waves. Perhaps they could smell it. Either way, this had only forced him to hold his head higher and to make his steps toward them seem more confident. He knew it would probably irritate them more, but it was an automatic response for him. He would not lower his gaze to the floor and shuffle past meekly in the hope that they wouldn't notice him and leave him alone. This was who he was and if it meant he got beat up to within an inch of his life every day because others didn't like it, then so be it. He wasn't going to change. He wasn't going to change for anyone, especially guys like them. He had thought about making sure he was with someone at all times during school hours, but he quickly brushed that notion away. If he did that, then he'd have to have someone by his side for the rest of his life, because there would always be someone out there who disagreed with who he was. No, this was something he had to deal with himself. And deal with it he would.

But even so, as Kurt had walked forward ever closer to the trio that lay in wait for him, he felt like they were the only four people in the universe at that moment. And from the looks on their faces, they felt the same way too. Sure, they could have beat on some other unfortunate kid as he left school that day. And if he hadn't been there at that particular moment, they would have done, it was in their nature. But he was their chosen victim at that point.

He was close enough to see the expressions on their faces now and remained as poised as possible, cool, calm and collected, for he knew if he could read their expressions, then they could certainly read his. His confident walk was only slightly marred by the trembling tremors in his arms and he tightened the grip on the strap of his satchel even tighter in an attempt to stop this from being visibly noticeable. Bully number one, Peter Finlay, was grinning, though it was not pleasant. There was hatred laced in that grin and he had unfolded his arms and started to crack his knuckles, a forewarning gesture that was designed to scare the shit out of Kurt. Bully number two, Lee Bartley, could barely contain his malice; his hands had been bunched into fists and his whole body was shaking with an uncontrollable rage, as though the mere sight of Kurt simply living offended him. But it was bully number three, Dane Kitcher, that truly unnerved him - so much so that for a split second the thought of stopping in his tracks and running in the other direction flashed across his mind...

Kurt was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realise the bathroom door was slowly opening, so it was lucky for him that it was not a teacher or mentor doing their nightly checks. His shoulders stiffened as he heard the tell-tale creaking sound of the door opening and turned around, only to breathe a small sigh of relief seeing Blaine enter the bathroom, letting the door behind him, wincing at the creaking it made. Kurt forced himself to remove all negativity from his mind and attempted to smile at Blaine, though he was sure it came out more like a grimace.

"Are you okay?" Blaine whispered.

Kurt nodded, though didn't verbally reply but as Blaine didn't seem convinced by this, he whispered back, "Yes." Blaine nodded, though he still seemed unsure, but didn't say anything after that and just stared into Kurt's eyes for a while. An uneasy feeling began to wash over him. "You should go back to bed," Kurt warned. "If they catch us in here we'll both be in deep shit."

Blaine smiled half-heartedly. "Karofsky's probably storming his way in here as we speak." But he made no attempt to leave. "Were you thinking about the fight?"

"Joseph got what was coming to him," Kurt replied automatically, as though he'd been waiting for Blaine to ask his opinion on it, even though it hadn't been dominating his thoughts at all. "He was asking for it, so I gave it to him. He's done."

A flicker of fear mixed with uncertainty crossed Blaine's face, though he attempted to smooth it out as soon as it had appeared. "I don't think he'll bother you again," he offered. Kurt nodded absent-mindedly. An uneasy silence followed this slightly doubtful statement but Kurt didn't bother to fill it, just didn't seem to have the energy to do so. Blaine seemed unsure of what to do or say next, so he delivered Kurt another half-hearted smile and reiterated his earlier question. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Kurt hesitated, and then: "I was... just thinking about my mom."

And those seven words that he blurted out before he even realised he had said them were enough to spring more tears to Kurt's eyes as he shook his head, as though trying to shake the memories away, and squeezed his eyes shut trying to squeeze the tears away, though neither actions fulfilled their purpose. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the blurry figure of Blaine moving towards him through teary eyes. He thought Blaine was going to hug him, but instead he placed his hands on each of his shoulders and gently forced him to hold eye contact.

"It sucks, Kurt," Blaine said. "It sucks so bad, I know. But you can't blame yourself. And you can't keep punishing yourself because of it."

But Blaine didn't know. Blaine only knew what Kurt had told him through late night whispered conversations in their beds. He hadn't revealed everything. Hadn't revealed that because Kurt wasn't strong enough that she had suffered the ultimate and cruellest of fates...

"You are one of the strongest people I know, Kurt," Blaine continued earnestly, refusing to break eye contact with him. Blaine had the most wonderful chocolately deep brown eyes that Kurt was sure he could get lost in, should the circumstances have been different. "You really are. I knew it from the first day I saw you here. It was confirmed to me when you stood up in Science class and told that bastard Bickerly where to shove it, even though you knew he'd come down on you. Kurt, there's been too many 'Joseph's' here than I can remember, but you're the first person I've seen stand up to someone like that... you never cease to amaze me."

Kurt's eyes were leaking now and he was sniffing uncontrollably, certain in the knowledge that he must look grossly unattractive at that point. But he couldn't help it because Blaine was being so nice.

"You inspire me, Kurt," said Blaine. "And since you arrived, things feel different. I'm not sure how the hell we're going to get out of here but since you came here, I feel like there's hope. If you hadn't have come, I probably would have given up by now."

Kurt dissolved into further tears. Blaine was so kind and Kurt felt like he didn't deserve it yet had no strength to argue his point at that moment. Blaine took Kurt's silence as agreement with his words and cupped Kurt's chin with one hand, tilting his head so he was looking into Blaine's eyes. Blaine ran his thumb below Kurt's eyes gently, wiping the tears away. And it wasn't that the gesture alone was enough to make him stop crying, but he realised with a jolt that this was the closest contact with another guy he had ever had (not counting the unwanted advances of Karofsky and the other bastards at Dalton.) His breath hitched slightly as Blaine continued to rub his thumb under Kurt's eyes, almost absent-mindedly, before he traced it down Kurt's cheek and rested it on his bottom lip.

Kurt was looking into Blaine's eyes but could see further through them and when Blaine locked eyes with Kurt again, an invisible spark of something special shot between them and before he was even able to take it in properly, Blain had bridged the small gap between them and locked his lips on Kurt. For a split second, Kurt just stood there, eyes widened and his lips remaining static in surprise. When he came back to reality, he returned the kiss with as much vigour as Blaine, tongues sliding together messily and passionately, running his fingers through Blaine's hair as Blaine's hands travelled down to grip Kurt's ass and it didn't matter to Kurt that he had never done this before because everything he was doing and everything that was happening at that moment just felt so damn right.

Before either boy had time to come to his senses to realise that they were breaking the number one rule at Dalton Academy, the door to the bathroom was kicked open violently to reveal the huge, ugly figure of Banks. Kurt literally pushed Blaine off of him, but Blaine's face was frozen in fear to barely even register the pain in his back as it slammed against the wall. Banks was looking between them both, a look of pure disgust etched over his face at what he'd just witnessed, though he had slight beads of sweat on his forehead and a noticeable bulge was increasingly forming in his pants.

"Sir -" But that's all that Blaine managed to say before Banks stomped over and silenced him with a stinging backhand across his face. He stared at Blaine angrily before his attention turned to Kurt. "Get in bed, Hummel. Now."

Kurt shot one last look at Blaine before he silently made his way out of the bathroom. He tensed up as Banks shifted as he brushed past him, expecting to be hit or at least spat on.

But Banks did neither, for which Kurt was grateful for. But for the sounds from the bathroom of a hand slapping against bare ass followed by a whimper, and then a thanks from Blaine, Kurt was not.

Blahhh. No excuses. I know this has taken a long time to upload and I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for this chapter as well. One, because it's short and Two, because it's quite dull and nothing really happens (except for Blaine and Kurt's first kiss, yaaaay!) . I did want to extend it and to also include more stuff from later chapters in this one, but there was no way this would have been uploaded today if I had tried to write more, so I posted it like it is. Think of it as a filler chapter :D There will be more flashback scenes in upcoming chapters to fully map out the history and backstory of Kurt's mom and how she died. I'm also quite excited because I've worked out the entire timeline of this story and also how it's going to end. I was a bit unsure before of why exactly the reason Kurt was sent to Dalton, but I've got it all planned out now... I think!

Everybody left signed reviews on the last chapter so you should have all received a reply to them by now.

I'm not sure what will be in the next chapter, so I won't do any teasers about what to expect in case it doesn't turn out the way I want it to. However, I'm like 90% sure that the Warblers will be in the next chapter. Good luck, Hummel! I think you're gonna need it! :S

Thank you once again and once again, I apologise for my slowness and will try and update quicker next time.

Johnny xo