Not much to say, other than there aren't many chapters left to go with this story :( But enjoy this one, and review!

Kurt closed the door all but silently behind him. The morning air was a little cold, but he could tell it would definitely get warmer later in the day. Still, to ward off the slight chill, Kurt tugged at the scarf around his neck as he set off down the footpath.

It'd been almost two weeks since that incident in Blaine's room. His father had been barred from seeing his son, and Theresa had been stunned by his outburst. She promised Blaine would always be able to come home, no matter what. Kurt didn't know what, if anything, was going on between the parents lately, but it was Blaine he was focused on. He was starting to get his voice back. He could only speak a few words before his voice broke and left him silent. But it was a milestone. Just under a month ago, he hadn't even been conscious. He'd been kept alive by machines, held together with bandages and the sheer will to live.

Kurt pulled his jacket around him tighter as a car swept past him and rustled up a cold wind. He watched the car pass, frowning. He was sure he'd seen it somewhere before. But he couldn't place it, and so kept walking with a shrug. It didn't really matter.

He didn't notice the car slide to a stop a few metres ahead of him. He heard the car door open though and looked up in surprise. When he saw who the driver was, now getting out of the car and walking towards him, Kurt froze almost solid. He couldn't take a step back, he couldn't turn and run.

"You little…" Jack never finished, he shoved Kurt violently. Kurt stumbled backwards, willing himself to run. But his muscles refused to work properly. Jack took another step forward, fist flexing.

"My son was perfect. Perfect! And you had to come along and fuck everything up!" he growled darkly, reaching out to grab Kurt. Something inside the teenager snapped; the frost tugging at his muscles melted in a split second, and Kurt turned and ran.

He heard Jack coming after him. His house was still in view, just a hundred metres away. But Jack was taller, stronger, faster. He launched himself into Kurt, slamming him into the pavement. His head cracked the concrete hard and Kurt saw stars. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he was on his back and Jack was pulling back his fist to punch him. He didn't remember how to move anymore. Jack only landed one punch before stopping. And then he whispered something harshly in Kurt's ear.

"You're pathetic. You deserve to die. You ruined my family. You wormed your way in and broke it down from the inside. I didn't even see it coming. You happy, now that you've completely and utterly fucked up everything I love?"

Someone was yelling his name, so Kurt didn't catch the last few words Jack spat at him. Plus, his head was spinning and his ears were ringing. He could barely see straight. Jack disappeared from his hazy view. He head more yelling, abuse being hurled through the air. He tried to sit up, but his whirling head point-blank refused. Then someone came into his sight and he blinked.

"Kurt, can you hear me? Answer me!" his father demanded, panic in his voice.

"Hurts," Kurt managed to get out.

Burt helped his son to his feet and towards the house. Kurt stumbled a few times, his vision still swimming. But eventually they made it back to the house.

"Finn!"

The teenager appeared almost instantly, like magic. He stared at Kurt in horror as Burt sat him down on the couch.

"What happened?" Finn asked, shocked.

Burt started to answer, but Kurt beat him to it with a weak, "Blaine's dad."

The murder that entered Finn's eyes was impressive and he bit back what he was going to say. It took him a moment to calm down enough to speak civilly.

"I'm going to kill him. I don't care who the hell he is, I'm going to kill him."

"Finn…" Kurt began.

Burt shut him up with a hand over his mouth, "Be quiet, we're taking you to the hospital. It looks pretty bad, but that might just be the blood."

Kurt frowned, wincing at the small movement. Blood? It certainly didn't sound too good, so he gave up fighting and willingly let his father help him back to his feet. He was too dizzy to argue anyway.

/\/\

"Can I go now?" Kurt asked, touching his forehead. The cut had been cleaned and covered, looking a lot less deadly than it had before. He knew he'd have one hell of a black eye eventually, but he was forcing himself not to worry about it. At least he was alive.

The doctor smiled and nodded, "Just be careful. You might get some headaches…"

Kurt tuned her out, itching to get out of there to see Blaine. He'd probably be wondering where he was, considering Kurt was always there the moment he was allowed in the door.

The second he could make his escape, he did, leaving Finn and his father behind. Finn rolled his eyes and shook his head. The kid had just been bashed but he was more worried about Blaine. Typical.

Kurt made it to Blaine's room quickly. He didn't stop to think about his injury as he walked in, knocking on the door as he entered. Blaine looked up from his clipboard, his smile fading as he saw Kurt.

Quickly he scribbled something down, then held the paper up for Kurt to see.

What happened?

Kurt paused, brushing the cut. How could he have been so stupid? Maybe Jack had hit him harder than he thought – he wasn't thinking straight. He was an awful liar and Blaine didn't need to know that his father had just beaten his boyfriend up.

"Just tripped on my way here. It's nothing," Kurt replied as he sat down.

Blaine gave him a disbelieving look and wrote something else.

You're an awful liar, Kurt. What really happened? Did someone hurt you?

Kurt couldn't stop the quick flash of guilt from crossing his face. Blaine's face took on the guilt instantly, multiplying it tenfold. Shakily, he wrote a simple, short question.

Did my dad hurt you?

Kurt shook his head, but Blaine knew the truth. He stared, horrified. He reached out and brushed his fingers against the injury, Kurt wincing. Blaine swallowed, pulling back.

It's my fault. I should have hidden the clipboard better – he saw the notes we were writing and got suspicious. I should have kept it hidden better, it's my faul-

Kurt gently held Blaine's arm, stopping him from writing anymore. Then he took the pen from Blaine and wrote his own answer.

It's not your fault, Blaine. It's mine. If I wasn't so obvious he never would have been suspicious in the first place. I just ruined everything. I'm sorry.

Did he say that to you? That you ruined everything?

Why?

He came in the other day. And, word for word, this is what he said. 'How could you? You ruined everything. You tore this family apart because you couldn't be fucking normal'

But that's not true.

Neither is what he said to you – whatever he said is just lies. He's trying to make you feel guilty so you'll go away and he can have me back. What did he tell you?

Kurt bit his lip as he replied.

He said that I was pathetic. And I destroyed everything he loved, that I ruined his family.

Blaine was quiet for a moment, regarding Kurt curiously. Then, slowly, he asked a question.

He said something else, didn't he?

Nothing I haven't heard a hundred times before.

They're the ones that hurt the most. Someone says something once and you brush it off. But when you hear it over and over again, it gets lodged in your brain. You can never forget it, no matter how hard you try. I know, Kurt, they're the ones that hurt worst of all. What did he say?

Kurt shot Blaine a worried look, wondering. What had Blaine been through before they'd even met? What had he had to live through? What taunts and hate had he had to listen to?

That I deserved to die.

Don't listen to him. Don't believe him. He's a manipulator. He breaks you down, and you don't realise until it's too late to do anything about it – you're too scared. He brings you down so you won't rise up again.

I'm sorry Blaine.

For what?

I don't know. I'm just sorry.

Don't be

Then Blaine turned to Kurt, smiling slightly. He put an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, Kurt leaning in slightly.

"Don't be," Blaine said, his voice scratchy and rough, hoarse from lack of use and the abuse it'd suffered "'Cause you didn't do anything wrong."