Phoenix Chapter 10: Cold As You, a glee fanfic

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Cold as You".

Note: Putting a twist on this chapter. Well, the song, anyway. You'll see what it is. And don't worry, our first big Puck/Kurt scene is most likely in the next chapter. Beyond excited to write that one, believe me. Oh, and, ahem, where are my reviews? Ha, ha. Please do review, it means so much to me.

"So, who has a song for us today?"

A tall boy stood up. Santana recognized him as the one who had been muttering to himself and punching the wall in the waiting room. What was his name? She couldn't seem to remember.

"Jonathan? You'd like to sing something?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. Jonathan was tall, with spiky black hair. He was a bit too punk-rock for Santana's taste (and for Kurt's taste, for that matter), but he was still a fairly handsome boy. He had been on the quiet side since arrival, so the fact that he was willing to sing a song so early on was impressive to Santana. She didn't know much about his situation other than that his girlfriend—or rather, ex-girlfriend—had gotten him addicted to drugs, used him, cheated on him, and left him heartbroken and wanting to die. She didn't even know the ex-girlfriend's name, as he wouldn't ever say it aloud. But Santana didn't doubt that this song was going to be about her.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "This song is dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, who got me here in the first place. Her name," he cleared his throat again. "Her name was April."

You have a way of coming easily to me
And when you take, you take the very best of me
So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel something
And you do what you want 'cause I'm not what you wanted

Santana's eyes widened. The last thing she'd expected to come out of the punk rocker's mouth was a freakin' Taylor Swift song. She squinted her eyes, trying to see what was going through his mind. She supposed the lyrics did fit him rather well. They also fit her, she thought. Brittany had a way of coming very, very easily to her. Santana started a fight with her just to feel something, anything at all. But Santana was not what Brittany wanted. She was never what she wanted. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

Oh, what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day
Just walk away, no use defending words that you will never say
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through
I've never been anywhere cold as you

Kurt shivered. He'd never been anywhere as cold as Karofsky. That boy had ice in every vein, ice in every corner of his body. He knew how to make the seemingly perfect day the worst day ever. He knew how to make Kurt shake in terror at the mere thought of him. He knew how to write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day. Karofsky thought he was in love with Kurt, but he wasn't. He could never be in love with Kurt, because it just wasn't right. Kurt didn't deny that Karofsky was way in the closet. But he could deny that Karofsky was in love with him. He—Karofsky—didn't know what love really was. You didn't hurt the people you loved. You didn't beat them up in the bathroom. You didn't rape them.

You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey\
And I stood there loving you and wished them all away
And you come away with a great little story
Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you

This reminded Kurt of Puck now. Ever since Quinn had given their baby up for adoption, Puck had put these walls up around him. He painted them all grey, dark grey, and wouldn't let anybody in. Kurt stood there, rain or shine, whishing that he could break those walls down. But he couldn't, he never could. Those walls would always stay up. He knew that Puck would just come away with a story. And that story would be about Kurt, who had the nerve to love and adore Noah Puckerman. Kurt began to cry softly. He wanted Puck to love him so much, but he knew that Puck was just leading him on, was just lying and pretending to love him. Kurt almost couldn't take the thought of all this anymore. He wanted so desperately to burn himself right then and there.

Santana looked over to see Kurt crying. His face was sweaty, and his stare was glassy, almost feverish. She recognized that expression, as she'd seen it around there so many times. She knew he was craving the flames. She knew that he wanted to burn himself so badly, but couldn't. She knew that this was an addiction that he just couldn't keep down anymore, that Kurt was slowly relapsing. She looked at him in concern, wishing there was something she could do, and also wondering just what was making him cry.

You never did a damn thing, honey
But I cried, cried for you
And I know you wouldn't have told nobody
If I died, died for you
Died for you…

Kurt began to cry harder now. It was true, it was all true. He'd cried for Puck. He'd cried for him, and Quinn, and baby Beth. He'd cried for Puck's past and he'd cried when Puck was sent to juvie. Puck hadn't cried for Kurt (as far as Kurt knew). And it was true. If Kurt had died for Puck, thrown himself in front of a bus for Puck, Puck wouldn't tell anybody. That was just how Puck operated. Kurt didn't think he'd tell anyone if someone died for him. And Puck wouldn't die for anyone. Kurt knew that much about him. He began to sweat even harder, the need to burn coming even stronger.

Oh, what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day
Every smile you fake is so condescending
Counting all the scars you made
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through
I've never been anywhere cold as you

Kurt cried out and ran into his room, searching desperately and feverishly for something, anything he could use to start a fire. Santana scurried after him. "Kurt, please don't do this," she begged. "You don't need the flames to feel better!"

"Yes, I do," he cried, hysterical. "I need them, Santana!"

Santana called for one of the nurses. "He's having a relapse…oh God, I haven't seen him this bad since…"

Kurt collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "He wouldn't care if I died for him. He won't die for me, won't die for me," he sobbed incomprehensively. "He won't die for me."

The nurse rushed over. "Kurt, tell me, who won't die for you?"

Santana motioned to her. "Let me." The nurse pushed her closer to Kurt. "Honey, I know you're talking about Puck." Kurt sobbed harder at the mention of his name. "And you don't need the flames to get rid of him. It's okay, Kurt. Puck cares about you. He really does."

"How do you know?" Kurt muttered darkly through his tears.

"I just do. Call it ESP or whatever."

"I don't believe you," Kurt wiped the tears off his cheeks. "I don't believe a single word."

Santana threw her hands up. "Whatever, Kurt. But Puck does care about you, whether you want to believe it or not." She left Kurt alone to drown in his pity tears.

"He doesn't care," Kurt muttered again. "He doesn't."

Puck would die, die for Kurt.