A/N: In order to make things less confusing: a.) Yes, it was researched that Dalton is approximately two - two and a half hours away from McKinley. So let's just say Dalton is like Hogwarts. There's dorms and such. Eh? b.) I know Glee Season 3 just started tonight, but I'm still on Glee Season 2. I hope you don't mind. Also, how'd you think of the first episode? c.) I know, I should start writing happier things, huh? Probably more sign language scenes as well? I'll try my best. As always, enjoy and thank you for reading.

D/N: The characters of Glee within this story are not owned by me.

Kurt looked down at him arm. He gave in again. This situation had now turned into a brutal battle. He sighed and laid the razor on his skin again and almost tugged. As he stared at the blade, he realized that if his sleeve went up the tiniest bit, someone would have caught him. He needed to find a different spot on his body to release this pain and emotion. He took a quick thought on how he needed a space that no one would be able to see and if someone did see, he would need to be able to explain quickly a story on how he got that cut. A fib. A lie.

After mulling over the subject, he decided to try his leg. While even though his leg had more muscle than the inside of his forearm, when he sliced over his shin, a sheer pain overcame him. It wasn't that he hit his bone or cut deep, in which he was perfectly capable of, it was the tingling that came afterwards that made him feel like his skin was crawling. As he exhaled, he felt pain slip away from him and that a weight had be taken off of his chest. He sliced again. This time his head became light and airy. He sliced again. Blood rushed hrough his body but stopped at the same time.

Even though his hands were shaking, he sliced himself one last time for the night. This time, putting more pressure, but not too much. Nothing he didn't want immediate care for. He dropped the razor onto his bedroom floor and lie against his bed, just staring at the ceiling. He felt all of his emotions at once; sadness, relief, tension, happiness and more importantly, euphoria. He liked the euphoria. The way his senses tingled. He decided that night after many nights of trying before, that he liked this activity and the feeling that came before, during and afterward.

"Blaine?"

"Blaine? Are you there?"

"Hello..."

A hand waved in front of his face and he snapped out of it, shaking his head. Blaine was with the Warblers during their after-school meeting. His notebook was blank in front of him and the others were not impressed. Normally, he took massive amounts of notes and spoke out during the meetings, but lately there was nothing from him. To give him slack, all he was thinking about was Kurt and how unfair it must of felt that he had to go away all because of those damn bullies.

Whevener he had the chance, he wondered about Kurt. Where he was. What he was doing. How he was coping with the situation. Then he thought of ways to get back to Kurt. The weekend trips was a start, but it wasn't enough to fulfill him. He absolutely loved him and needed to be there for him more than what was now.

He finally got back into the conversation that was among the other students, "Blaine, what do you think of the song selection?"

"Great," he nodded and rubbed his eyes.

Wes just stared at Blaine blankly, "You didn't even hear the selections, did you?"

Blaine bit his lip and looked down at the floor before softly saying, "No."

Some of the Warblers groaned as Wes stated the selections, "'Hey, Soul Sister' by Train, 'Animal' by Neon Trees and 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?' by the one and only Rod Stewart. What do you think?"

Blaine furrowed his brow, "'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?'" Some Wablers chuckled at his apparent question, "Do you think that's even appropriate to perform?"

"I don't know," Jeff interjected, "Do you have something else in mind?"

Blaine gave it thought. He realized the other song choices were fun and upbeat and wanted a similar feel for the last song. He wanted the three-song set to end with a bang. Then he remembered... "Hey guys, what was that song we were rehearsing last week? I think... Wednesday?"

The others gave quickly into thought, thinking rapidly. That is until Trent interjected, "Oh! Something about a glass!"

"Raise Your Glass!" Nick corrected Trent.

"There we have it," Blaine shrugged and smiled. "Alright guys, let's get to practice!"

All the Warblers put away their notes and started walking to the Main Hall. Blaine was dragging the group behind as he literally dragged his feet and hung his head. All he kept thinking was about how he left Kurt to face the bullies by himself. He felt selfish and like a horrible boyfriend. How was he going to protect him now? As he came upon the Main Hall, he put on a fake smile and began the rehearsal.

Kurt's legs hurt. They stinged. He made an average of ten light cuts every time he had the feeling. That gut-wrenching feeling. It hurt for him to walk, sit, stand, dance during Glee Club rehearsals. It was enough for him to remember at least.

At least he had the weekend to look forward to. Blaine would be there and everything would feel right. He wouldn't feel depressed or the need to release his sorrow in a painful way. That is, until Sunday afternoon came around and Blaine would leave. Then it washed over him heavily. He would hold his head high and smile to hide the fact. Every once in a while, he caught Puck staring at him then looking away quickly. He was up to something, Kurt knew it. He looked at his arms and saw the cuts through the shirts. Unfortunately, a nervosa overcame him at that moment and made him squirm.

He had it. A need. He needed to let out some pain.

Kurt felt the pain build up in his chest. He looked at the ceiling then the rest of the Glee Club. No one was paying attention. Even Puck looked away to chat with Lauren Zizes, his voluptuous girlfriend. He decided to run for it.

He packed up his belongings and walked out of the room as calmly and normally as he could. He went to the boys restroom and locked himself in a random stall. He hung his backpack on the hook on the door and put his textbooks on the toilet tank. Finally, completely hiding himself, he firmly placed both feet on the toilet seat to hide the fact that he was in there.

Kurt made sure to be as quiet as he could since he didn't know when other boys would walk in. He crouched over his knees and pulled up his left pant leg. There, a new patch of un-ruined skin. He reached up to the backpack and got within the secret compartment, his baggie of razors.

His skin trembling, heart racing and shown skin area already ready for the pain he was about to feel. The pain that was still building up in his chest that he desparately needed to let go.

Why did those jocks have to go after Blaine? Him, fine. He was used to it. But not Blaine. Definately not Blaine. If they didn't go after his boyfriend, his dad wouldn't have came to the school and have to take him out of McKinley. It was already bad enough that Dalton was about a two hour drive away. But Blaine was so good about it and got up early to drive to the Hummel Household. He was so good about everything; with everything. Quite literally as well. Kurt thought about their first night in the tent. It was magical and wonderful. He never felt better and happier with someone.

Finally, after all those thoughts, he dug deep and yanked the razor. He bit his lip to stop the screams he had. But the pain felt so good. The built up feelings in his chest were released as he exhaled. After a few, he rolled down his pant leg until he saw some paper fell near his stall. He dropped the razor onto the floor and held the ankle wound in shock of the fallen papers. Someone was in here. He decided to get off the toilet quietly and gather his belongings. He opened to door to see Sam Evans, the latest addition to Glee Club.

Kurt helped him gather his fallen paper before curtly nodding and getting out of there as fast as he could. Hopefully, Sam didn't think anything was suspicious. Normally, Kurt wasn't religious, but this time, he prayed that Sam didn't suspect anything.