A/N: Alright, major warnings for this chapter guys. I don't usually write stuff like this but I though this story could use a little more drama. Lol, not really, but I just wanted to write this. How awesome am I. So, if you're offended by rape (even though it's not quite rape) DO NOT READ. But please do read it if you can, because I think it's really awesome.
Cheers erupted as Blaine pushed open the choir room door and for the first time in weeks I smiled genuinely, and everyone smiled back. We took out seats up the back, next to Mercedes and Sam. Quinn and Rachel were nowhere to be seen but I pushed that thought to the back of my head and focused on the lesson.
Mr Schue grinned when he walked in and saw us, and Blaine grinned back. I smiled a smiley smile and waved. He clapped his hands together and began talking. I couldn't focus very well, though, and my eyes kept trailing to the drum set at the side of the room.
Halfway through that period, when Sam was going to sing a song about something or another, the door opened and Quinn walked in. She had tears running down her face and her eyes were red and puffy. She handed a note to Mr Schue and he nodded, gesturing her to a chair. She shook her head though, and went to stand in front of the piano.
"I was a horrible girlfriend to Finn," she stated shakily. Blaine's brow furrowed. Quinn took another deep breath and continued.
"I took advantage of him... I paid more attention to myself than him and I realise now I brought him down..." She looked at me. I frowned and tilted my head. Blaine looked at me.
"I want to sing," she said, looking at Brad and mouthing something I couldn't understand. But when the first few bars of 'Hurt' by 'Christina Aguilera' rang out through the room I understood. She started shakily but her voice grew stronger as the song progressed, but she faltered a little at the chorus.
"I'm s-sorry for, blaming y-you, for everything I just c-couldn't d-do," she stuttered, and Santana walked over to rub her back and sing the next few words with her. When Quinn couldn't sing because she was crying again Santana took over.
And the other day, at Finn's funeral, when Quinn couldn't finish her speech because she was crying (again), Santana got up and finished it for her. These two usually hated each other, so why were they being so nice all of a sudden? I looked at Blaine and he knew what I was thinking but he just shrugged. I took a deep breath and watched the rest of the song, without shedding so much as a tear.
Everyone quietly clapped when she was done and Santana led her to a chair, whispering random consoling words into her ear. Yep, that was weird.
A few minutes later the bell rang and I picked my bag up and took Blaine's hand and made my way to English. Tina smiled at me as I walked out the door and I smiled back.
As we made our way to English Blaine tried to make conversation.
"Kurt, why didn't you cry?" he asked as we scurried through the crowded halls. I frowned and smirked at the same time.
"You wanted me to cry?" I asked, and he immediately shook his head.
"Not what I was implying at all," he said as we rounded the last corner and walked through the door of our English classroom. We took our usual seats and the teacher smiled at us when we sat down and I beamed. Blaine stared at me like I was crazy.
"Well? What were you implying?" I asked, thoroughly enjoying this game. See, I decided this morning that feeling sorry for myself would only make the people around me feel worse so I made a promise to myself; I wouldn't cry once, I'd be happy, and so far it was proving to work. Blaine put his hand on my thigh, scarily close to my groin, and I looked at it first and then his face.
"I was implying that you seem happy. Too happy."
I looked at him indignantly. "Am I not allowed to be happy? Did you like whiny, sooky Kurt more?"
He smirked. "No. I was just wondering." I flashed him a smile and took out my work book and so did Blaine, but his hand never left my thigh.
Xxxxxxx
"I don't want to leave you," he mumbled against my lips. I fisted his hair and snaked my tongue into his mouth again. He reacted by grabbing my hips and grinding against them, and I moved my mouth away from his with a smirk.
"Blaine," I warned. "Not here. Later."
He shivered and I chuckled, pushing my mouth to his again.
"I don't want to leave," he said again. I sighed.
"I have Spanish," I said and made a face. Blaine laughed and released my hips, but not my lips. I was the one who had to pull away and take his hand in mine, and lead him back to class and reality.
"I have science. See you after?" he said as we crossed the threshold of the door, and I nodded, kissing him once before we parted. I saw out of the corner of my eye a hulking figure at the end of the corridor as I turned but I ignored him and began to walk a little faster. But I threw a quick glance over my shoulder and saw he was following me, and I began to jog. Another look and he was even closer, so I broke into a run, almost tripping over a Cheerio. I turned three more corners before I realised, this wasn't the way to my Spanish classroom, but I couldn't turn around because Karofsky was hot on my tracks. So I began to sprint, rounding another corner that was apparently a dead end because I ran face-first into a wall. I teetered and fell over backwards, and when I sat up, Karofsky was standing over me, smirking, his arms crossed and his feet flat on the ground.
"Hey lady," he said. "Have a nice trip?"
I tried to stand up, but he pushed his foot against my shoulder and pushed me back down, and I hit my head on the wall. He laughed cruelly, and squatted down next to me.
"You don't need to go to Spanish," he breathed in my ear. "You can stay here with me. I'm more... fun." He exaggerated that pause by licking a trail up the side of my face, and I whimpered.
"Get off me," I said, but I wasn't able to raise my voice above a whisper. He chuckled darkly and brought his hand down to the crotch of my jeans.
"I'm not on you yet," he stated, rubbing me harshly through my jeans. I winced, because he was strong, and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Look at me," he growled, and I turned my head away. He grabbed my chin with two fingers and pulled my face up roughly, while pushing down on his other hand. I gasped when he smashed his face against mine, biting roughly at my lips. His tasted like cigarette smoke and I retched. He pulled away and frowned.
"There a problem, Hummel?" he asked and I nodded feebly.
"Get your hands off me, David," I gasped, and his face morphed into an evil grin. He brought our mouths together again, and bit my lip hard, so hard that I felt blood trickling down my chin. I cried out in pain against his mouth, and he squeezed me through my jeans. He was not gentle.
I felt something metal clicking against my teeth as he shoved his tongue as far into my mouth as possible. I was having trouble breathing now, because he'd pushed me back into the wall and had his elbow in my stomach as he groped me. The tears brimmed and overflowed, and he pulled back as he felt them on his own cheeks.
"Are you a pussy, Hummel?" he asked menacingly as he began to work the button on my skinny jeans. I was terrified; I didn't know what was about to happen but I was sure it wasn't going to be good. I tried to cry out but my throat was too dry. He hissed and slapped my cheek, and I immediately brought my hand up and winced when my cold fingers connected with red raw skin. He stopped his ministrations on my pants and ripped my shoe off, and my sock, and shoved the black material in my mouth and down my throat. I gagged and coughed, and I felt the bile rise in my throat, but he just smiled in satisfaction and went back to working my pants down. After he'd gotten them off I tried to curl my legs up to my chest but to no avail, as he forcefully pushed them back down and I screamed into the sock as I felt my knee crack. It wasn't broken but something was wrong.
"That pussy Blaine doesn't deserve you," he growled as he ripped my briefs from my body. I felt so dirty as he stared, and his eyes kind of sparkled, because this sight was for Blaine and no one else. He licked his lips and I saw a glint if silver against the light – holy fuck, Dave Karofsky got his tongue pierced. He must've noticed my shocked expression because he smiled.
"Just for you, baby," he said before lowering his head to my cock. I whimpered but not in pleasure as he pushed the ball of his new accessory to the slit at the end of the head, and the whimper turned into a scream as he pushed so hard it began to slip in. And it fucking hurt.
"Stop! Stop!" I tried to scream but it came out muffled. He drew his head back and I screamed again as the ball was ripped out of me, and the smallest drop of blood gathered at the tip.
"You wanna fight with me, Hummel?" he asked, inching his face closer to mine and I shook my head furiously. He yanked the sock from my mouth and brought our lips together again, more forcefully than last time which was funny because I didn't think that was possible. I shook my head and tried to push his shoulders back and wondered why I didn't try that before and then I remembered, he was fifty pounds heavier than me so it was useless. He grabbed both my hands and roughly shoved them against the wall above my head, and without breaking contact with my lips he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small-ish length of blue rope. I could see he'd prepared for this moment as he tied the rope around my hands, twice, and pulled the knot hard. I winced as the cord cut into my wrists and made a burn there.
"Suck me off, bitch," he commanded as he shoved his jeans and boxers down and rubbed the tip of his hard member against my lips like lip gloss. He was small and red and ugly, and I was scared this image would be burned into my retina so I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to picture how Blaine looked when he was going down on me, how Blaine looked when I was going down on him and when he was about to fall off the edge. But I was abruptly pulled out of my reverie as I felt a hard pressure against my lips.
"I said suck me, slut!" he yelled and I turned my head away, yelling, "No! Help!" as loud as I could. Karofsky grabbed my hair and ripped, hard, and when I opened my mouth to scream he shoved his cock hard into my mouth and I gagged when he hit the back of my throat. I sputtered and coughed and I vaguely heard the sound of running footsteps. So did Dave, obviously, because he quickly pulled out of my mouth and released my hair so he could hurriedly pull his jeans up and button them before Emma and Mr Schue ran around the corner. Emma gasped loudly, and Mr Schue stared at me, then Dave, then me again. There were more footsteps and Blaine emerged, followed closely by Puck and a few seconds later, a panting Lauren. I curled my knees up and hung my head in shame, and out of habit I bit my lip but regretted it as fresh blood gushed out of the wound made earlier by Karofsky. I began to sob as Blaine rushed to my side, attacking the knot that bound my hands with his fingers and teeth, as everyone else, including Karofsky, stared. Lauren had her hand up to her mouth, gaping, and Puck was fuming. Mr Schue was the first to talk as Blaine stood me up and pulled my jeans up over my knees, and I leaned on his shoulders for support as he zipped and buttoned them up.
"Oh my god, Kurt, what happened?" he asked, but his gaze was locked on Karofsky's face. The boy looked guilty but evilly satisfied. I turned and buried my head in Blaine's shoulder and cried, more than I ever had before, until Blaine set my shaking body down in the corner and turned to Karofsky with a face like the blackest thunder.
"You sick, twisted, evil FUCKHOLE," he spat and Karofsky actually flinched, and Mr Schue lunged at Blaine just as Blaine lunged at Karofsky. Emma stepped back and Lauren stepped forward, clutching Puck's hand. But Puck let go of her hand and threw himself at Karofsky, kicking and punching him as he fell to the ground. Mr Schue did his best to peel Blaine off Karofsky's back but failed, and I winced as the jock's face hit the ground with a smack. Blaine grabbed as much of Dave's short hair as possible and repeatedly bashed his face into the ground, screaming incoherently each time his skin came in contact with the linoleum. Mr Schue was screaming now, so was Puck, who was kicking the side of Karofsky's stomach each time his cheek hit the floor. I looked up to see almost the entire glee club watching now, and Jacob Israel had his stupid video camera and was taping the whole thing.
Karofsky had stopped struggling now and was just lying there, and when Blaine brought his head back up I saw that the boy's eyes were closed and his face was black and blue.
"Stop, Blaine, stop!" I screamed, horrified, jumping up from my place in the corner and trying my hardest to pull him away. He slowed down and looked sincerely into my eyes and I saw there were tears – of rage? Fury? – running down his face. He stopped, let go of the boy's hair and stood up. Puck stopped kicking and stared down at the still boy on the floor, and a few whispers and gasps passed through the crowd of people that was steadily growing.
"Blaine Anderson, Noah Puckerman, to my office now," a voice came from behind the mob, heavy with an Indian accent. I grabbed Blaine's hand and held tightly, refusing to let go as he weaved his way through the crowd behind Puck. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dave twitch, and try to pick himself up on shaky arms. Mr Schue didn't even try to help him up, he just stood there, arms folded, staring down. I met Quinn's worried and puffy eyes as we walked down the hallway and Mercedes pushed to the back of the crowd of people, looking shocked and horrified.
Xxxxxxx
"Both of you boys are not allowed at school for the next three weeks," Figgins declared, and Blaine nodded. He was still panting, hard, and Puck had his head in his hands.
"Blaine, you may take Kurt to the nurse. Noah, I have called your mother, she is waiting for you outside," the principal said, scrawling something down on a bit of paper. Puck nodded and stood up, snatching his bag off the floor and storming out. Blaine looked at Figgins.
"I have my car, I can drive me and Kurt home," he said, and Figgins nodded. We began to walk out, me still sniffling, when Figgins called us back in.
"I understand you were just defending Kurt, Blaine, and I accept that. David Karofsky will not be coming back to William McKinley High School and I don't think you boys should, either. At least for a term or two," the man said, and I stared, but Blaine nodded and pulled me gently out the door and down the corridor towards the nurses office. But as soon as we were out of view of Figgins he pulled me into a gentle hug and I found myself sobbing into his jacket.
"I almost killed him," he whispered into my hair. "Fuck, Kurt, what did he do to you?"
I shakily explained the story, and somehow I found myself sitting on the ground with my head in Blaine's lap who was leaning against the lockers running his hands lazily through my hair. Only a few people came past, each with questioning looks on their faces, but no one dared to ask questions because the look on Blaine's face was utterly terrifying.
It wasn't until Mercedes came past that I stood up a half an hour later, and let myself be held by her. The tears had slowed but I was still shaking, and over her shoulder I saw Tina and Artie standing, and sitting, confused. Blaine came over, and placed his hand on the small of my back, and Mercedes reached out a hand to place it on his shoulder. Mr Schue came around the corner and jogged over to us.
"Kurt, you should be in the nurses office. Mercedes, Tina, Artie, we have glee club, let's go," he said, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. Mercedes kissed my forehead and Tina wheeled Artie past, and they both waved. I folded my arms and let Blaine hug me, as he gently explained to Mr Schue what had happened.
"Oh my god," Mr Schue said, hanging his head. "When will you guys catch a break?"
Blaine shrugged, and began to tow me away towards the nurses office, but I turned back around.
"Mr Schue?" I said and he spun. I took a deep breath. "We won't be coming back for a while. So, goodbye."
He nodded, and waved with a sincere smile on his face. We both waved goodbye and turned our backs to one another.
A/N: Oh wow, what a shitty way to end one of the best chapter's I've written. I hope you guys liked it too! I don't even know where that came from, I just really wanted to see Karofsky get hurt and even though it would be awesome for Blaine to go all ninja-Warbler on him in the middle of the hallway without provocation, there needed to be a reason. And, what better reason than Kurt getting semi-raped by him? Jolly good.
You guys are getting awful slack with the reviews. Like Santana needs something warm beneath her or she can't digest her food, I need reviews in my inbox or I can't write any more stories. It's a two way street, people. So review, tell me if you love it, hate it, any ideas? Klisses .x
