A/N: Hello. I am so sorry this took so long. There have been a lot of ideas in my head from the beginning and I took time to plan them out until the end more solidly. Also I got a new job in London and it takes me an hour and a half to get to work, and the same back so I get up at 6.30am and get home normally about 7.30pm by which point I want to chill out rather than write more. I've been writing a lot on the train though so a lot of Chapter thirteen is already written so fingers crossed it wont take so long.

I forgot to put the US spell check on when I wrote this chapter so there are probably a lot of UK spellings in it. I'll sort them out when I have time.

Massive thank you to those who reviewed, I have seen them all and I'm grateful to you for taking the time to comment :) And to the new favourites and Story Alerts, thanks for reading too. It's over 8,000 words to make up for the hiatus between updates. So here we go.

Disclaimer: Nope I don't own Glee. If I did Klaine would spend the whole time making out. I do however own Saffron and Lea who makes her debut in this chapter (not based on Lea Michele in any way shape or form)

Chapter Twelve - The Elephant in the Room

The tap of my pen against the open pages of my textbook reverberates around the quiet and almost abandoned Library. With the rest of the students in the cafeteria or walking the corridors, no one but the Librarian and I are here. My history textbook hardly engages my busy mind as I have re-read the third paragraph from the top a dozen times without it making any sense.

It's Monday. Mom made me take Friday off school as well to make sure I recovered. This caused two problems for me. Number one; I couldn't put my plan to keep an eye on Kurt and find out once and for all what Karofsky has been doing, into practise. The second and most annoying side effect is the shed load of homework I now have from my two day 'vacation', as my history teacher nastily referred to my absence as. I had no idea sickness counted as a holiday. Silly me.

Said amount of homework also means I don't have time to keep an eye on Kurt until I've caught up. Hence why I am currently sat in the library agonising over the large pile I've made a minimal dent in.

The Librarian glares sharply at my pen tapping hand and I still my fingers. I'd like to see her concentrate when her mind refuses to focus on anything but that which is worrying it, no matter how often she demands it behave.

I don't know what I'm more concerned about – Kurt being hurt and bullied right under my nose without having the power to stop it, or the fact my sister is keeping something from me. The worst part is, whatever it is, I supposedly ought to have picked up on it. And Kurt found out so easily. I feel a stab of something hot and prickly in my stomach. Something I normally only feel when Saffron gets some sort of gratification from my parents I didn't receive when I did the exact same thing. Or when I look at Jade and Matt's, argumentative but easy transition from friends to a couple.

Is it possible to be jealous of your best friend's relationship with your sister? It sounded like they talk more than I knew. I roll my eyes at myself. This is ridiculous, they were more or less snarling at one another; therefore I wouldn't call their friendship – if that's what you'd call it – a threat to my relationships with either of them. Let's call this version of the feeling I'm getting, continuous spikes of resentment. I'm resentful of the fact my younger sister and my bo- best friend have both kept something from me. And while I have a fairly good idea of what Kurt's is, I'm stumped on Saffron's.

Is she hurt? Is someone blackmailing her? Has someone said something about me and she's trying to cover it up? Am I wrong to think I have the right to know? Should I tell Dad? What if Dad's in on it? Oh god that's a horrible thought – maybe Mom, Dad and Saffron have decided I'm too delicate to know certain things so they've gone and covered something up from me like ... like I'm actually living in the Truman show and everything that has ever happened to me so far in my life has been a set up –

Shut up brain! I think too much.

I cross my arms over the textbook before me and rest my head face first in the gap, nose pressed in my fresh and laundered sleeves.

"Why are you holed up in here?" Santana's raspy voice calls from ahead of me.

I look up, startled to find her sat across the table from me. She looks the same as ever, hair tide back in a dark ponytail, Cheerio's uniform lightly pressed. The only thing out of place is the look of ... is that concern? I'm almost creeped out by its presence. She drums her fingers across the table lightly, and I realise I haven't answered her question.

"Homework."

"Bullshit."

"How can you tell?"

"You mean besides the fact, you've been stuck on that page for the last half hour? You're pissed about something. And not homework pissed. People pissed."

"Am not," I say petulantly.

"You so are."

"I'm not!"

"So why are you currently gnawing to death a perfectly good pen with your teeth?" She looks pointedly at the pen between my lips.

My teeth freeze against the plastic, and my eyes cross in a bid to see the guilty object. I hadn't even realised. I lift it out of my mouth with a pop and busy myself writing any old gibberish to make her think I'm working for real this time. She doesn't move. She does however examine the notebook upside down.

"'I want potato tots. They are yummy. I hate this stupid cafeteria for not serving them?'" she reads aloud. She looks amused as I cup my hand over the page in embarrassment. "You can blame Mercedes for that. I wouldn't eat those anyway, hot stuff. You're hot now but those things will go straight to your ass."

I drag my hand through my hair distractedly.

"Have I ever mentioned what a terrible actor you are?"

My eyes flicker to her in irritation.

She shrugs. "Just saying."

"No you haven't said it before. Kurt has though." I try to keep my voice neutral, but the bite that accompanies his name gives me away.

"I thought this mood might be a Kurt thing." Santana lifts out of her seat and perches delicately against my notebook. I slam my pen down against the wood surface, losing all pretence of calm.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she quips.

I lean back in my seat and stare at her expectantly.

"Whatever this is has been bothering you for a while. Normally I wouldn't care, but you're so mad I haven't gotten my mack on in like over a week. Either get over it, or let me help you get over it."

I rub my eyes tiredly and plonk my head on the desk beside her. "What do you want?"

She's blunt. "Sex."

My shoulders stiffen – I hope she doesn't notice.

"Jesus, you are so frigid." The comments bite is lessened by her hand stroking through my dishevelled hair in an almost affectionate gesture. For a moment I'm able to imagine it is Kurt's hand and I shiver. It's different though. Kurt's fingers dig in and massage my head with gentle circles. Santana's fingers ruffle through the hair in quick, fleeting brushes.

"Gee, thanks," I deadpan.

"It'll make you feel better about whatever Kurt did," she reasons.

I look up at that. She's right; it probably would make me feel better ... if I was attracted to girls. A familiar swoop in my stomach, a feeling I associate with guilt is squashed down as quickly as possible and I rest my head on my hand.

"What makes you think he's done something?" I hedge.

"Blaine, I don't care what's going on with you and Lady Face, okay? You wouldn't be the first straight guy he's had a thing for."

She would care if she knew – wait – "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not stupid. I get that you'd rather not think about it. Finn was the same."

Finn was the same how? I think over what she said before. Kurt had a crush on his step brother? "Huh?"

"He'll get over it..."

"Santana I – I think you've got it wrong-"

"- Oh please! Even that Chinese Warbler thought you were a couple. He hangs over you so much you may as well wear him as a necklace. And you do nothing to discourage him. The more you hang with him and let him do it, the more this whole school is going to think you're a flaming homo too. And how is that going to make me look? They'll think I turned you into one."

I gape at her. I hadn't thought of that. Do people assume I'm gay because I'm close to Kurt? Is that what people used to think about Matt when he hung out with me away from Jade? Oh, she's still talking -

"- and normally I would take pride in scaring someone off my sex but can you see where I am coming from? People know we're sort of a thing, but considering I haven't bragged about nailing you yet, they're going to know you aren't putting out."

I blink at her. It occurs to me I may have been cast as the girl in this relationship. I'm not putting out for her? "Shouldn't that be the other way around?" I ask.

She leers at me and strokes my cheek almost fondly. "Aww, it's kind of sweet how naive you are. Imma spell this out for you." She leans toward my ear and looks around us for any eavesdroppers. "I have nailed every guy in this school except for you and Kurt. I've got a rep Frodo, so no; it shouldn't be the other way around because everyone knows I would have had you by now if there wasn't some obstacle in the way. You don't wear that purity ring nonsense, so the world can only assume either you are frigid or gay."

I gulp.

"So this is what's going to happen." She leans back again. "You are going to rent a motel room for us. Make sure it is at least four stars. We'll arrive; do the nasty, order room service. After that I'll tell Brittany we've finally done it, the whole school will find out, and people will stop thinking you and Kurt take baths together. Okay pumpkin?"

"Has it ever occurred to you I might not be ready for this?" I'm ashamed of the feeble attempt but I know she isn't going to back down. I'm either going to have to tell her the truth and risk her blabbing it to the world, or go through with her plan. Frankly I'd rather look pathetic right now.

"What are you, nine?"

I sigh. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night? In the mean time you might want to do something about the leech that's attached itself to your hip, because as much as I'm weirdly fond of Lady Face, I don't appreciate him hanging all over you, like a lovesick puppy."

I scowl at her. "He's not a leech. He's my best friend around here. And would you stop calling him Lady Face? Just because he's gay doesn't make him a girl," I snap.

She puts her hands up in surrender. "I'm going to let that little outburst go, because you're clearly having a stressful day. But he so is a leech."

I grind my teeth together. How do I get her to see his feelings for me aren't a problem in the way she sees' it? That it isn't the reason we are so distant. There's no way I'm telling Santana of all people the whole truth. Yes I could probably mention the fact he appears to be keeping secrets and talking about me to my little sister behind my back, but the kiss – the fact he refuses to be with me because I'm in the closet – no way.

"Look, I couldn't tell you if Kurt likes me that way or not," I lie. "That's not what's wrong."

"Well spit it out hobbit, I'm going to lose interest in ten seconds."

I roll my eyes at her and pull the chair beside me out. She hops off the desk and takes the seat.

"I'm worried about him," I begin. "You must have noticed he gets harassed around here."

She shrugs. "Sure, I have, but we're all bullied. Well, not so much me. Being from Lima Heights Adjacent has its perks."

I sigh and rub my face with the tips of my fingers, catching the librarian's interested stare. "I think it's getting worse for him but he's not telling me."

"Well why would he? I mean, yeah you are joined at the hip and he's got the hots' for you – don't deny it. Even you aren't that blind – but he hasn't known you that long. If he's going to tell anyone it'll be Mercedes, and she hasn't said a word. The girl's mouth is bigger than Britt's, which means he's not told anyone."

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth in thought. I guess the only way I'm going to find out is if he tells me.

I skip Glee club after school in favour of doing my homework. It's only when I enter the Library though, that I decide I really don't want to sit in there another moment. I'd rather do it at home, so I text Saffron to ask if she has cheerleading practise, stuffing my phone back in my satchel again, only for it to buzz upon getting into the driver's seat. I frown and fish it out, slightly confused by the speed of her reply. She always takes at least 20 minutes.

Cheerleading's cancelled. Be right out.

I blink in surprise. I'd planned on making my way to her school and waiting around there doing my work in the car if she still had to stay.

She's not in the parking lot when I pull in so I park near the entrance and get out peeking around for any sign of her. I can see the sports field to the left of the lot and two groups of kids are playing soccer. I watch with a wistful smile. I used to love soccer. David Beckham was my first crush, if I recall correctly.

"Hi Blaine." I jump and spin around to see a small young girl with long blonde hair up in a ponytail stood beside me.

"Uh hello?" I look around just in case she is talking to a different Blaine, but no one else is in sight. "Who are you?" I ask.

She laughs. "I'm Lea. Saffron's probably mentioned me."

I try to arrange my face into one of comprehension rather than the confusion that actually circulates my head right now. I can say with complete honesty that my sister has never mentioned a girl called Lea ... or anyone for that matter.

"Oh right, yeah. Hi Lea. Erm, out of curiosity, how do you know I know Saff?"

"You are her brother, right?"

"Yeah..." I say slowly. "But I've never seen you, so how have you seen me?"

"I've seen you pick her up, silly." She curls the end of her ponytail around her finger and steps uncomfortably close to me. I manoeuvre away from her under the pretence of seeking out my sister in the lot.

"Where is she anyway? She said she'd be right out."

"She's ... around."

"Okay, well if you see her can you tell her I'm here," I ask and turn away. She doesn't take her cue to leave.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen." I give her an odd look.

"That's awesome." Her smile widens. "I'm head cheerleader, you know."

I purse my lips in confusion. Did I ask for her life story? "Good for you. My sister used to be at her old school," I say out of politeness more than anything.

"Yeah I heard."

"Fuck off Lea." I turn to an out of breath Saffron who has materialised beside her. I withhold the impulse to correct her use of language. I don't want to embarrass her. She bends over and places her hands on her knees inhaling hard. "Sorry I'm late Blaine. I had to ... do something."

I wave it off and look between the two girls. Lea has an extremely large smile on her face, but Saffron's expression is a fraction short of murderous. Something she said to me her first day of school springs to mind.

"What happened?"

"Head cheerleaders a bitch, that's what."

Ah. "Well it was nice meeting you, Lea." I tug at Saffron's sleeve and she gets in the car without a backward glance. Lea flutters her fingers at me as I pull out of the parking space and she heads towards the field where the soccer match is taking place.

"So, that's the bitchy head cheerleader?" I say as I drive around the parked cars towards the exit.

"Uh huh."

"What's she still doing here?"

"Don't give a shit."

"Language!" I scold.

She rolls her eyes and heaves a heavy sigh through her nose.

It's as I pull towards the main road that I notice the group of girls dressed in matching blue uniforms walk out onto the soccer pitch.

I'm sat on my bed with my homework spread out around me when the screaming downstairs starts that evening, and I pause my hand over the page I write on. There's been a raised murmur that floats through my open bedroom door ever since I heard the door slam shut signalling my dad's arrival home from work. But I couldn't hear any words until now.

"How do you think it makes me feel when you treat me like this?" Dad's voice snarls. "I'm trying."

"Well, try harder!"

"I earn more than anyone in this god damn house. Fuck me, Blaine hasn't bothered trying to get a job!"

"Why should he? It was you who moved us here. You who forced us to buy another god damn house! You, who forced this crippling mortgage on us!"

"I did it for us!"

"You did it for you!"

I jump off my bed and slam the door shut, to muffle the words, but it's not enough. The sound still comes through the wood. I jam my ear buds into my ears and turn my Ipod on full blast and lean against my desk a moment and try to calm my racing mind.

It doesn't take a genius to work out that my parents are having money issues, and I groan from the wave of nauseous guilt that travels up my spine and aches in my chest. It's my stupid god damn fault we moved here, and Mom's blaming Dad. Saffron blames Dad. Hell even I blame him sometimes. But he's has a point. Why haven't I tried to get a job?

I'm an idiot who doesn't think. That's why.

I look out of my window at the familiar sight of Kurt sprawled on his bed, books spread out around him and I smile. My thoughts ease as I allow myself a shameless look. The only time I ever catch a glimpse of Kurt in any state other than immaculate is when he is in his room. When I spy him through my window at his most relaxed.

I like this version of Kurt.

Kurt turns on his side until his body faces the window and positions his book so it is at a better angle. I lick my lips hungrily. I devour the sight of his lean body stretched out, and the longing returns. I feel less and less creepy the more I do this. I haven't allowed myself to look in the last week or so because it's painful but right now it's kind of a ... nice distraction.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks through the window and squints in the light at my window. He stares back and gives me a small wave.

I remove my ear buds and open my mouth to call out to him-

SMASH!

I jump out of my skin and run to my bedroom door to throw it open. I peek out at the corridor and listen intently to the sounds downstairs, my gut twisted in panic.

"... so clumsy!" Mom's voice is venomous.

"Oh I suppose that was my fault too," Dad's tone is testy.

"My favourite ornament ... it had to be that?" Mom bites back.

I close my door again with a quiet snap and lean against it, breathing hard. Kurt is stood now in his room and I groan when I see that my bedroom window and his are both open slightly. What's the likelihood he hasn't heard anything?

He scrambles around for something on his desk. My feet take me towards the window on instinct and I watch him stare at his desk intently for a few moments. He holds up a pad of paper that reads;

Is everything okay over there?

I cringe. It's bad enough when my parents fight like this. It's even worse when someone else hears it too.

I nod. He writes something else down: Do you want to come over and watch a movie? I recently bought Aladdin.

"IT'S NOT FAIR WHEN YOU DO THIS TO ME JOHN!"

I flinch and stare uneasily at the door. I can't exactly walk through the house while they are at each other's throats. But I can't pass up an offer of sanctuary. Especially from Kurt, when our friendship is so fragile. And I really want to watch Aladdin. I haven't seen it for a few years now. My thoughtful gaze lands on the window again. I could just climb out the window again, I suppose.

I rummage through my bag and write: Be right over, don't laugh, on my pad when I locate it, holding it up for him to see.

Kurt cocks his head in interest, and I try to ignore him and open the latch of my window. Once it is thrown wide open, I peek at Kurt's wide eyes as I launch myself off the ledge onto the roof of the shed below me again. This time my aim is better and I don't fall off like my last attempt. A feat I'm very grateful about as Kurt watches from above. I clamber a little awkwardly off the roof and onto the side path and gesture up at Kurt to come downstairs. He grins at me and disappears from view.

Once I'm safely in his room I shift awkwardly from foot to foot. The last time I was here we kissed, and our friendship got weird. Kurt gestures for me to make myself at home on the bed which he has cleared of all books and I settle against one set of his pillows as he puts the DVD in the player and sits beside me.

"Why are your parent's yelling?" he asks.

I open my mouth to answer but catch myself just in time and snap it shut again.

Kurt groans and rubs his forehead. "Sorry, that was rude. It's none of my business. Yeah ... sorry."

I smile and rub his knee. "It's okay. Can we not talk? I don't really want to think right now," I ask.

Thinking is bad. Thinking makes me feel guilty, about a lot of things. Mom. Dad. Saffron. Kurt. Santana.

Kurt looks relieved by my request and I bite my lip in confusion. Maybe he doesn't want me here, and he invited me over out of politeness.

"Or I could just go..."

"No! I mean no. No stay. We'll watch Aladdin and won't talk."

I nod and let out the breath I had withheld. I don't want the elephant in the room to be addressed at all. It's too soon.

I snuggle down beside him as the opening sequence of the movie plays, and before long I can feel my eyes drooping. I blink them open with force and concentrate on the action and not the way Kurt's thigh brushes against mine when he shifts his position.

Aladdin has just arrived at the palace with the genie, carpet and Abu, when I feel something solid land on my shoulder. I tense and look down at Kurt's soft head of hair that rests there. My heart feels like it's trying to rival a Salsa beat in my throat and I swallow nervously and peak down to see if his eyes are open.

They're closed. I don't dare move as he lets out a long sigh and curls his arm around my stomach. A simultaneous swoop and clench below my navel sends adrenaline coursing through me as his head rubs against my shoulder and I force my unseeing eyes to look at the screen again. Blood thrums in my ears and his grips tighter around my waist. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to now.

And I don't move my stiff limbs until the end credits roll and I have to wake him up if I'm going to get home before curfew. I gawk at how beautiful he is for a few minutes, and breathe in his familiar fragrance. Then my conscience decides my leer is about to move into weird territory and I shake him awake by the shoulder. His eyes flutter open, and take a while to focus on the scene before him and lastly – me.

He lifts his head off me like I burned him and rubs his eyes. "Hi," he speaks.

"Hi. Sorry I didn't want to wake you but ..."

He groans and I chuckle at his embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's fine. There are worse things happening lately than you using my shoulder as a pillow," I reason.

Kurt nods his agreement and a sad grimace takes over his features. I wonder what thoughts were provoked by my words; the bullying ... his dad's heart attack from three months ago ... me?

"I need to get a job," I admit to take his mind away from the thoughts that mar his happiness.

"Really? That'll look good on a college application," he agrees.

"...yeah." It's always nice when others supply a reason on your behalf without your need to lie. He smiles in understanding and I know he knows the real reason. Damn my parents are loud when they argue. I appreciate his show of ignorance though.

"I better go," I say after a long pause.

"Yeah ... okay."

I make to stand but he grabs my arm. "Hey, I-" he swallows hard. "I if you need to talk about anything that's bothering you, I'm still here. I know I might be – be part of the problem sometimes but I – I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me."

I offer a grateful smile in return. "I know. Same applies to you." I catch his eye pointedly and he dips his head.

"See you," I say.

I don't wait for his reply as I make my way out of his room and descend the stairs. I call a goodbye to Burt as I pass.

"See ya' kid!"

I wonder up my empty driveway (where did Dad's car go?) and rest my ear against the door to listen for any noise.

Silence.

I take a deep breath and slot the key in the lock. All the lights are out downstairs. I close the door quietly and walk past the living room door to see a figure sat on the dark sofa.

"Mom?" I stand awkwardly at the threshold. Her head turns in my direction and she squints at me.

"You okay?" I take a tentative step towards her.

"I'm fine, Blaine," she says cheerlessly. Her dark shrouded face looks smudged with clumps of mascara but I can't tell for sure.

"Why are you sat in the dark?"

"It's a school night. Go to bed, baby."

I clear my throat to protest and offer her a cup of tea when a flash of blinding light through the window signals the return of Dad. Even in the dark I see Mom stiffen.

"Blaine, please go to bed."

I nod wordlessly, watch her for a few more moments and make my way up the stairs. My door closes as the front door opens and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"There he is."

I yell out in surprise and jam my back against the door handle. Saffron snorts at me and I grit my teeth together. She's sat on my bed, hand covered over her mouth.

"Jesus!" I exclaim. "Warn a guy next time."

She lifts her arms up in a sign of truce. "Nah, this was more fun. Where have you been?"

"Kurt's," I answer.

"Figures," she says dully.

I try not to notice the tone. "How long have you been in here?" I take my cardigan and jeans off and pull my pyjama pants and t-shirt on quickly.

"About an hour," she says with a shrug. "I didn't know you were gone but I knew it was near curfew so I stayed."

I look out the window and can see that Kurt's curtains are still open. What's the likelihood she didn't see me over there? Not likely.

"When did they stop fighting?" I ask.

She rests her forehead on my shoulder and I twine my fingers in her long, thick hair. "About forty minutes ago. That's why I-"

"-came in here," I finish for her. "I know. Sorry I wasn't here. Kurt offered me a respite from the yelling and I took it."

"Yeah about that." She picks up the notepad that is still on my bed and holds it up so I can see the message I wrote for Kurt. "You two do know you have cell phones, right?"

I pull her hair playfully.

"Ow! Seriously it's so Taylor Swift it's nauseating."

Another yell makes us both jump again.

Saffron trembles and I put my arm around her. "They'll stop," I soothe. "They always do."

She nods. "Can I stay in here tonight?"

I don't answer. Instead I gesture towards my pillows and lift my covers up as invitation for her. She smiles gratefully and climbs underneath them and I slide in next to her. "We can do top and tail, if you want?" I offer. That's what we used to do when she was really little and didn't want to sleep so close to me.

"Nah. Even at your height your feet reach my head. I don't want to smell that."

I pinch her and she giggles.

"Go to sleep," I say.

Down below us the fighting continues and Saffron snuggles closer to me. I rub her shoulder.

"They'll be okay, right?" Her small tired voice tugs at my heart.

I kiss her forehead. "Sleep."

"Are you sure you're back to health, Curly? You look unwell."

I walk through the threshold of the chemistry lab and out into the hall, with Mercedes in tow, adjusting my bag strap and glance at her with a resigned smile. She's the fourth member of the Glee club to ask me that question today.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well last night, that's all," I say; a half-truth. I really didn't sleep well. Saff is a kicker.

"Okay, well if you need to talk about something – like why you and Kurt seem to spend less time together, for example – I'm here," she offers.

I smile at her warmly. After Santana's warning of her blabber-mouth however, that is never going to happen. "Thanks Mercedes. I'm fine really. And there is nothing wrong with me and Kurt. I think there might be something wrong with Kurt, but our friendship is fine."

"Damn," Mercedes said as we reach her locker. We're on the way to Glee club so we may as well walk together. "I thought you might know what's eating him. I just assumed you guys had a fight the other week and that's why he's acting so ... weird."

"Weird?" I raise one eyebrow in question.

She flings her Chemistry text book inside her locker. "Yeah, weird. Like he keeps jumping and snaps at me for no reason. I asked him if he could go get Finn out of the locker room because Rachel was pissing me off, yesterday and he yelled at me to do it myself. I mean, what's up with that?"

I wince. It's pretty obvious to me why Kurt wants to stay clear of the locker room, but Mercedes doesn't know about the kiss Karofsky inflicted on him. I can't tell her.

"I thought he was over his crush on Finn, but maybe he isn't and then there's y-" she breaks off. "He seems so unhappy," she finishes.

"Yeah."

So I'm not the only one to notice he's upset then. And unlike Santana, Mercedes is worried too.

We walk into the choir room and Mercedes settles herself in the chair on the right of Kurt's usual spot. I look back at the door but he hasn't arrived yet. Santana flutters her fingers at me from the back rafter and gestures at the seat beside her. I gulp and force down the guilt and nerves, remembering our conversation at yesterday lunch time. I haven't decided whether I'll go through with it yet. I shake my head imperceptibly and settle myself on the only vacant seat next to Kurt's empty one. I can feel Santana's curious gaze on me but try to ignore it. She must know why I want to sit next to Kurt surely? I told her I was worried about his bullying. If she thought someone was hurting Brittany I know she wouldn't leave her side.

Mr Shue walks into the choir room and claps his hands together. "Alright guys!"

I check my watch. It's past 3.30. Kurt should be here by now.

"It's Tuesday and sectionals is on Friday so we need to talk competition."

"Oh good," Rachel says and sits up straighter in her chair. "What song are Finn and I going to sing?"

"You're not getting a solo at sectionals, Rachel," Mr Shue says with so much finality, the entire Glee club gapes at him.

"Wait I'm not?" Rachel splutters.

"No."

"Finally!" Mercedes smile is wide. "So what am I singing?"

"Actually, I decided that as the winner of our duets competition, that Sam and Quinn will take the leads," Mr Shue announces. I raise my eyebrows in question and he adds. "The duets happened before you joined, Blaine."

I nod and settle back in my seat, confused by Rachel's livid expression.

"Ken and Barbie? Finn, do something," she hisses at her boyfriend.

He stares wide eyed at her and addresses Mr Shue. "Look I'm all for boosting the team moral and letting everyone have a turn, but that's for practise. You can't take out the two leading players before the big game. We'll be crushed."

"Gee thanks for the vote of confidence," Quinn says sarcastically.

"I'm thinking about the team," Finn defends.

"You are such an arrogant hypocrite," Santana snaps. "This club ain't all about you, Frankenbeans, so shut up."

I glance at Tina sat next to me who leans over and whispers, "Finn and Rachel always get the leads in competition. This is kind of a big deal."

"Why are you punishing me, Mr Shue? I work harder than anyone in this damn club!"

"ENOUGH!" Mr Shue snaps. The room falls silent. Rachel throws herself back down in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest in defiance. "Thank you. Now, Santana will also be singing a solo."

Brittany claps loudly.

"Also, our competition is your average stool choir. Their singing is incredible, but they don't move, which is why I am featuring Mike and Brittany's amazing dance moves this year, during Santana's number, to give us an edge."

"Where's Kurt?" Artie asks from the other side of a fist pumping Brittany.

Mr Shue seems taken aback by the abrupt change of topic and everyone's eyes land on Kurt's still vacant spot.

"He was with me in English," Tina says. "And then Azimio threw a slushie at him so he went to the bathroom. That was fifteen minutes ago."

I stare at her in shock. And she left him on his own?

"Maybe he went home," Sam suggests.

"No he hasn't text me to say he'll be at home," Finn says, checking through the messages on his iphone.

"I'll go look for him," I say and stand quickly.

I vaguely register Mr Shue telling me to sit down but I'm already out the door. I make my way towards the chemistry girl's bathroom. That tends to be the one he favor's over all others. I'm almost there when I hear a loud yell and a slam, and my pace quickens. I run around the corner and burst into the bathroom I was aiming for and pause at the scene in front of me.

My heart lurches up my throat at the view of Kurt slumped against a cubicle door. His usual immaculate hair is wet with traces of blue dye streaked through. His chest heaves as he stares back at me with wide tearful eyes, Karofsky towering over him with his fist raised.

"Fuck off, Hobbit." Karofsky snarls and punches Kurt in the stomach. He cries out in pain and doubles over.

I'm over to them in three strides and push at Karofksy with a strength that surprises even myself. He slams back into a sink and I place myself between him and Kurt. Karofsky's face contorts in rage and he bites out,

"Walk away hero. This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me when you're beating the crap out of my best friend," I snarl back at him.

"Blaine, don't," Kurt says from behind me.

"What are you a faggot too, Hobbit?" He leers down at me, and I straighten my spine in a bid to give myself as much height as possible.

"No more so than you, it would seem."

"Blaine." I ignore the warning in Kurt's tone.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Karofsky looks at me and catches Kurt's eye behind me.

"Kurt told me what you did."

Karofsky's sneer falters a moment, but its back in place a second later. "Told you what?" He stares accusingly behind me and I step to the side to try and hide Kurt from him, in case he makes a sudden move for him. I know it's ridiculous, considering Kurt is half a head taller than me, so it doesn't conceal him as such.

"TOLD YOU WHAT!"

"You kissed me," Kurt breathes behind me.

Karofsky's beady eyes snap to Kurt, and I hear Kurt's sharp intake of breath at the venom behind the glare. Karofsky opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then his expression clears like a slate being wiped and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"He wouldn't make that up," I say coldly.

He holds my eye and chews his pursed lip. "He's lying."

"You forced a kiss on him," I carry on. "I don't care if that was a kind of sick joke or if you're in the closet, you still did it, and it has to stop!"

He lunges forward and grabs me by the scruff of the neck. I yelp.

"Do not mess with me, Hobbit!" he growls. His breath reeks of chilidogs from the cafeteria. Is this what Kurt tasted that day?

"I guess you're confused. I can understand that," I splutter.

Karofsky slams my back against the wall of the bathroom and my head knocks against it. Vision is lost for a few moments as I try to focus on how a forceful hand yanks Karofsky's fist off my shirt and propels him backwards into the sinks. Next moment a livid Kurt has reversed our roles in the space of a few seconds and stands between me and Karofsky with a ferocious glare.

"You have to stop this!" Kurt shrieks.

I slide down the wall and survey the scene – how Karofksy stares at Kurt with a bewildered grimace, like he's looking at him for the first time. And how Kurt shakes with either fear or rage above me. I think it might be rage.

Karofsky comes back to himself, and pushes off the sinks to stand face to face with Kurt. "If you tell anyone else, Fairy, the next time you are alone..." He prods Kurt's chest with his finger.

I rise to my feet unsteadily.

"I will make good on my promise. I will. Kill. You. Is that clear?"

And before I or Kurt can react he spins on his heel and marches out of the girl's bathroom.

I lean against the wall, stunned by what I just witnessed. What I got involved in again. I never fought back in New Jersey. I ran. A lot. But I never got into fights with any of the jocks at school. Not Peter. Not his best friends. Not Jacob Harrison next door. I don't understand where this side of me has come from. And Karofsky just ... he said he'll. He –

"He's threatened to kill you before," I realise aloud. It isn't a question. His words were clear.

Kurt takes a shaky breath and lowers himself to the ground. I let myself drop back to the floor beside him and he curls up into a ball and leans his head back against the side of the entrance to the cubicles. His shoulders quiver and I reach out to try and calm him down. He shrugs me off. I drop my hand.

"That's what you haven't been telling me," I realise aloud.

Kurt blinks up at me, eyes full of questions.

"You've been getting more and more withdrawn," I explain. "You look tired and upset all the time. At first I thought it was just about ... us." The reminder leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "But then you flinch when anyone touches your back and ..."

"Yes, he threatened to kill me a few weeks ago." I blanch at the cold tone directed at me. "He said if I told anyone he would kill me. But I'd already told you."

I rub my hand through my hair in irritation. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have ..."

"That's why I didn't tell you about it," Kurt exclaims. "I didn't want you to confront him. I still don't want you to confront him, but you went and did it anyway!"

"Kurt-"

"- Because he'd know that I'd told someone if you did it! And now you went and told him anyway and he's going to- to-" he chokes back a sob and buries his head in his knee.

A lump rises up my throat and I gulp it down. I can't stand the defeated slump of his shoulders, the trembling, the way his usual immaculate hair is so messed up. The back of his shirt is damp from when he rinsed the slushie out of his hair, and I think I can see the harsh purple outline of a bruise through the stretched fabric of his hunched back. I want to hug him. I want to help him. Tell him it's going to be okay. I can't think of anything worth saying though. All I can think to say is,

"You don't know that."

"YES I DO!" Kurt bellows and jumps to his feet to pace the floor. "You just couldn't leave alone could you? I can't deal with this right now."

"Kurt, I didn't know he would react like that," I say pleadingly. My eyes fill with tears and I blink them back furiously. This is no time to cry; he needs me, not the other way around.

"What did you think would happen, Blaine? That you would swoop in and save the day? That I would fall into your arms and cry hysterically and be all, "My hero," and we'd live happily ever?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"I was handling everything just fine. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Which should be very clear to you now considering I had to save your ass in the end," Kurt snarls.

"Kurt-"

"What were you thinking?"

"I – I was thinking that I couldn't bear to see you being hurt by him," I say weakly.

Kurt laughs humourlessly and throws himself on the floor again. "You just don't think before you act. Oh I know you mean well," he adds at my indignant glare. "But you don't consider what your actions will do. He knows I told you because you told him!"

I shake my head at him in annoyance, "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? Because I am. I'm so sorry! But I wouldn't have told him if I'd known you didn't want me to. If you'd just talked to me I wouldn't have mentioned it!"

Kurt's glare is murderous. "So now this is my fault?"

I bite back the words, 'yes it is your fault,' and take a deep breath instead to calm my nerves.

"I just want to help," is what I say after a pause.

"You can't."

"You can't do this by yourself."

"Yes I can."

"Liar."

"Oh my god, just stop!" Kurt wails, and his heads back in his hands. "You have no idea."

"How would you know if I have any idea?" I growl.

Kurt looks up at that. And comprehension clouds his eyes like he realises what he's just said. "Oh..." He breathes. "Sorry I forgot."

"Yeah." I suck my front teeth in a bid to not yell all my frustrations at him.

This conversation has gone so beyond Karofsky. It feels like the elephant in the room is stomping about, trumpeting for our attention, like we're not fighting because of the bullying. We're fighting because of every pent up feeling that's materialised between us in the last two weeks. And what we really want to shout about is our non-existent relationship. Kurt seems to have come to the same conclusion because his eyes have softened, and he looks like himself again. Almost.

Kurt shakes his head at the floor and rests his chin on his knee again, eyes never leaving the floor. "You know I think we spend more time fighting than anything else at the moment." His voice is barely above a whisper.

I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes to block out the artificial light. "We also spend a lot of time in bathrooms," I observe.

Kurt snorts. "I'm sorry I shouted at you," he mumbles. "It isn't your fault."

"I'm sorry too. It isn't yours either."

"Yeah it is."

"No ... it's not," I open my eyes. From this angle I can see the bruise through his shirt again. "May I?" My hazel eyes hold his grey ones in question as I reach a tentative hand towards the hem of his shirt.

They widen and he twists his back away. I settle my hand on his shoulder instead and rub it in reassurance.

"Please. I promise I won't hurt you."

Kurt bites his lip, sceptical, and I hold my breath as he mulls my words over. His lids drop and I know I have permission even before he slants his head in a just perceptible nod. My heart thuds painfully in my chest as I lower my hand to the hem of his shirt and lift it with careful reverence. I try to stop the heat that travels up my neck, because I've never seen him shirtless. I know he's seen me through the window but I haven't seen him. I bite my lip as each creamy patch of skin is revealed to me. He's beautiful, a beauty that isn't even marred by the violent purple bruise that is spread up his back. My inhale of breath alerts him of my discomfort with the sight and he tries to pull his shirt down again. I stop him.

"Don't." I hold his eye with my steady one and he relaxes again. My finger trails across the bruising with a feather light touch. He shivers. "How long were you planning to put up with this?" I ask.

"As long as it took."

"Kurt ... you have to tell someone."

"No."

"Your Dad would want to know."

"And aggravate his heart? I don't think so."

"Mr Shue," I list helplessly.

"He's tried ... well sort of. He talked to me about it, but Figgins' said there was no evidence and ignored it."

I sigh and drop his shirt over his back with a gentle flourish and soothe my hand up and down it.

"What about Coach Sue? By the way when the hell did she become Principal?"

"Last week when you were ill. And no, I don't think she could help. I know she cares more than Figgins did, but still. If the school board doesn't care then her hands are tied."

I purse my lips in thought. "You've spoken to her," I realise.

He nods. "She needs evidence."

"Have you told Finn? I know he, Puck, Mike and Sam would help you if they could."

"No, I don't want them involved."

"Finn's your brother."

"And he's too obsessed with popularity to notice."

I rub my hand through my hair in frustration and rest my head on my cupped hand that's propped up by my elbow against my knee. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to let me handle this," Kurt says dully.

"That's not going to happen. If you won't tell your Dad or a teacher, then you need to tell Finn. He'll want to help you."

"Tell me what?"

Kurt and I spin towards the door to the bathroom, where Finn's gangly body is stood in the doorway, his shoulders hunched to fit under the door frame.

"Tell me what Kurt?"

Kurt stares at him dumbfounded.

"Kurt?"

A/N: Santana's comment about Purity rings being silly is her opinion not mine. I promise the boys won't stay apart much longer. There are necessary revelations to come.

The Saffron and Lea thing IS relevant. I can imagine a lot of people are probably thinking 'why is she bringing that in?'. It's to do with Blaine's overall arc so go with it :)

I'll try not to take a month to update again. I do have work and my driving test next week though (yup i'm in my 20s and only just learnt to drive) plus xmas shopping and my parents are in the middle of refurbishing their house so I have to help with that. Hopefully with a bit of luck the next chapter will be with you in the next 2 weeks tops. I'll try and make it sooner though.

Thanks for reading Lovelies!